Iberoes of tbe IRations 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 Swelien Bbbott, flB.H. 
 
 FELLOW OF BALLIOL COLLEGE, OXFORD 
 
 FACT* DUCI8 VIVENT, OPEROSAQUE 
 SLORIA RERUM.— OVID, IN LIVIAM, 265. 
 
 HENRY OF NAVARRE 
 
 2 7 8 4 5 f
 
 HENRY IV. 
 FROM A CONTEMPORARY PAINTING IN THE MUSEUM AT VERSAILLES.
 
 HENRY OF NAVARRE 
 
 AND 
 
 THE HUGUENOTS IN FRANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 P. F. WILLERT, M.A. 
 
 FELLOW OF EXETER COLLEtiE, OXFORD 
 
 "Truly your great enemy is the Spaniard. He is naturally so, he is 
 naturally so throughout — by reason of that enmity that is in him against 
 whatsoever is of God." — Oliver Cromwell. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 Sbe 'Knicherbocher press 
 
 309'^" 
 
 o
 
 Copyright, i8c3, bv 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 ^EUt^ereji at ^StationerA' H^U^Lpo^mi 
 
 ttbe Itniclierbocher press, Hew B?orll
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 II.— 
 
 J(III. 
 IV.- 
 
 v.- 
 
 VI.- 
 VII.- 
 
 4 VIII. 
 
 IX- 
 
 THE REFORMATION IN FRANCE — THE WARS 
 OF RELIGION BEFORE THE DEATH OF 
 CONDE (1512-1569) I 
 
 THE PARENTAGE OF HENRY OF BOURBON 
 
 HIS EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE — ST. BAR- 
 THOLOMEW — THE PEACE OF MONSIEUR 
 (1555-1576) 44 
 
 -HENRY OF NAVARRE THE PROTECTOR OF 
 
 THE CHURCHES (1576-1586) . . . Ill 
 
 •THE THREE HENRYS (1585-1589) . . I49 
 
 •CAN A HERETIC BE KING OF FRANCE ? 
 
 (i589-'592) 183 
 
 ■THE KING GOES TO MASS, AND ENTERS PARIS 
 
 (1592-1595) 247 
 
 OPEN WAR WITH SPAIN — PEACE WITH FOR- 
 EIGN AND DOMESTIC ENEMIES THE EDICT 
 
 OF NANTES (1595-1598) .... 292 
 
 -THE REORGANISATION OF THE MONARCHY 
 (1598-1610) 347 
 
 •THE DIVORCE AND SECOND MARRIAGE OF 
 
 THE KING (1598-1601) .... 378 
 iii
 
 IV 
 
 Contents. 
 
 CHAFTEU I'AGE 
 
 X. WAR WITH SAVOY SPANISH INTRIGUES 
 
 CONSPIRACIES OF BIRON AND THE EN- 
 TRAGUES (1599-1609) .... 399 
 
 XL — COMPLICATIONS IN GERMANY — PREPARA- 
 TIONS FOR WAR — ASSASSINATION OF THE 
 KING (1609-1610) ..... 428 
 
 GENEALOGICAL TABLES 
 HOUSE OF LORRAINE 
 HOUSE OF BOURBON-VENDdME 
 
 . fating page 464 
 • " " 465 
 
 INDEX 
 
 465
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PORTRAIT OF HENRY IV. FROM A CONTEMPORARY 
 
 PAINTING IN MUSEUM AT VERSAILLES, FrOJltispicce 
 PORTRAIT OF ADMIRAL COLIGNY . . . . 6o 
 
 MEDAL OF CHARLES IX. STRUCK TO COMMEMORATE 
 
 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW . . 78 
 
 MEDAL OF GREGORY XIII. STRUCK TO COMMEMORATE 
 
 THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW . . 78 
 
 PORTRAIT OF HENRY III 92 
 
 PORTRAIT OF CHARLES IX. FROM THE PAINTING 
 
 BY F. CLOUET . ...... lOO 
 
 PORTRAIT OF CATHERINE DE' MEDICI , . . 146 
 
 FAC-SIMILE OF THE WRITING OF HENRY IV. . . 152 
 
 PORTRAIT OF DUKE HI XRV OF GUISE. FROM THE 
 
 PAINTING BY F. CLOUET .... J70 
 
 PORTRAIT OF HENRY IV. . , . . . 2l6 
 
 ENTRANCE OF HENRY IV. INTO PARIS (bY THE 
 NEW gate). FROM A CONTEMPORARY EN- 
 GRAVING OF A PAINTING BY N. BOLLERY . 282 
 EXIT OF THE SPANIARDS FROM PARIS (bY THE 
 ST. DENIS gate). FROM A CONTEMPORARY 
 ENGRAVING ....... 284 
 
 PORTRAIT OF MARGARET OF VALOIS . . . 380 
 
 PORTRAIT OF MARY OF MEDICI. FROM THE 
 
 PAINTING BY F. PORBUS IN PRADO MUSEUM 
 IN MADRID ....'.. 394 
 
 DEATH MASK TAKEN FROM FACE OF HENRY IV. . 454 
 
 V
 
 HENRY OF NAVARRE 
 
 AND THE HUGUENOTS IN FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE REFORMATION IN FRANCE — THE WARS OF 
 RELIGION BEFORE THE DEATH OF CONDE. 
 
 1 5 12-1569. 
 
 iRENCH historians, anxious to vindicate- 
 in all things the priority of their na- 
 tion, point out that in 15 12, five years 
 before Luther denounced the sale of 
 indulgences, Lefevre, a lecturer on 
 theology and letters at Paris, published 
 a commentary on the Epistles of St. Paul in which 
 he taught the doctrine of justification by faith. 
 
 But an isolated theologian might deny the efficacy 
 of good works without danger to the established 
 system, so long as the logical consequences of such 
 doctrine were not pressed vigorously home against
 
 2 Henry of Navarre. ti5i2- 
 
 the abuses of Rome. Lefevre had nothing of the 
 passionate activity of a successful reformer ; his 
 teaching produced little effect till the minds of 
 men were stirred by the great events taking place 
 in Germany. \ 
 
 Lefevre and his friends did little more than give 
 expression to the general desire that the Church 
 should be reformed from within. They were sup- 
 ported by the sympathy of the scholars and men of 
 letters who had long been engaged in a bitter quarrel 
 with the monkish pedants, to whom the system and 
 the maxims of the schoolmen were not less sacred 
 than the cardinal doctrines of the Church. 
 
 The false renderings, the spurious documents, the 
 historical frauds and obsolete philosophy, on which 
 the Catholic theologians of the day relied, hardly 
 allowed a learned man to be orthodox. 
 
 But these cultivated men had not the fervour and 
 their doctrine lacked the emphasis needed to stir 
 popular enthusiasm ; the real impulse to the Refor- 
 mation in France was given by men of more decided 
 views, who at first, with the exception of Farel, a 
 friend of Lefevre, belonged to a lower class. 
 
 The growth of heresy did not escape the notice of 
 the University of Paris, the acknowledged judge and 
 champion of orthodoxy throughout Latin Christen- 
 dom. In the 14th century the University had in- 
 terfered in politics with the authority of a Fourth 
 Estate and had lectured kings and princes. In the 
 15th century at the Councils of Constance and Basle 
 its doctors had been the acknowledged leaders of the 
 Western Church. As if foreseeing the approaching
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 3 
 
 struggle, the faculty of theology, the Sorbonne, as it 
 was called from the name of the College founded by 
 Lewis IX. for the support of the teachers of divinity, 
 appointed a permanent committee to watch over the 
 purity of the faith. 
 
 Heresy was in France an offence against the Com- 
 mon Law, and those accused of it were tried before 
 the ordinary courts of justice ; but these courts 
 never entered into the question of what constituted 
 heresy, allowing the decision of the Sorbonne to be 
 final on that point. Hence their function seemed to 
 be little more than the punishment of whomsoever 
 the theologians chose to pronounce guilty. 
 
 In 1521 the Sorbonne solemnly condemned the 
 doctrines of Luther, declaring that they ought to be 
 extirpated by fire and sword ; yet the new sectaries 
 were little molested till after the fatal day of Pavia. 
 
 Francis L was not sorry to have a convenient bug- 
 bear wherewith to frighten the clergy. He was also 
 disposed to toleration by more worthy motives, by 
 the influence of his sister Margaret, and by his un- 
 feigned sympathy with letters and culture, the best 
 trait in a character which has been saved from well 
 deserved infamy by the gratitude of the Muses. 
 But when the King was captive in Spain the Regent, 
 his mother, was anxious to secure the co-operation 
 of the Pope and clergy in her efforts for his libera- 
 tion, and the heretics, who it was said had drawn 
 down the wrath of heaven on their country, had a 
 foretaste of the severities which awaited them. 
 Lewis de Berquin a young man of great promise, a 
 scholar and a courtier, was thrown into prison, al-
 
 4 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 though a favourite of the King. On the return of 
 Francis, Bcrquin was released. Erasmus, whose Col- 
 loquies had been condemned by the Sorbonne, was 
 invited to Paris, but preferred to revenge himself on 
 his opponents by satire from a safe distance. He 
 criticised a book published by Beda, the leader of 
 the bigots of the University, and proved that that 
 pillar of orthodoxy had been guilty of eighty lies, 
 three hundred calumnies, forty-seven blasphemies. 
 Lefevre now in his eightieth year, who had recently 
 completed his translation of the New Testament 
 into French, was recalled from Strasburg and ap- 
 pointed tutor of the King's youngest son. The 
 hopes of the reforming party ran high. Zwingli 
 the most amiable and tolerant of the great fathers 
 of the Reformation dedicated his book on true and 
 false religion to the King of France. 
 
 But the tide of court favour was already turning: 
 the influence of Margaret over her brother was in the 
 wane. The Chancellor Duprat, who aspired to the 
 Papacy, and the King's favourite the Constable Anne 
 of Montmorency, urged the repression of heresy. 
 Yet Francis hesitated to sanction active persecution 
 — when an event occurred which at once gave the 
 preponderance to the fanatical party, 
 r One evening ( June i, 1528) an image of the Virgin 
 at a street corner in Paris was thrown down and 
 mutilated. The whole town was in an uproar ; the 
 numerous guilds formed in honour of Our Lady 
 looked upon the outrage as a personal insult. The 
 ignorant mob was infuriated by such sacrilege to their 
 favourite deity, the better classes were alarmed by
 
 15^9] The Reformation in France. 5 
 
 this proof of the audacity of the sectaries, the King 
 was indignant at an act which seemed an abuse of 
 his indulgence and which was likely to provoke dis- 
 order. For a whole week there were expiatory pro- 
 cessions — processions of the University, of the clergy, 
 of the King and his courtiers. The partisans of 
 persecution triumphed, and Lewis de Berquin was 
 one of their first victims. 
 
 Henceforth the history of French Protestantism is 
 that of an oppressed minority, never safe from legal 
 persecution and from public and private violence, 
 except when, from time to time, their own valour 
 and resolution or political expediency obtained for 
 them a partial and precarious respite. 
 
 Persecution compelled the French Reformers to 
 become a church militant, yet it may be doubted 
 whether any organisation or discipline would have 
 enabled them to increase their numbers and their 
 influence during the remainder of the reign of Fran- 
 cis I. and that of Henry H., exposed as they were 
 to the rigour of the law and the hatred of the mobj 
 had they not found a leader and an inexpugnable 
 citadel — Calvin and Geneva. 
 
 Calvin threw the doctrines of the French Reform- 
 ers into the most definite and logical form possible 
 — he organised their churches, his personal influence 
 gave unity to their councils. 
 
 Under the anagram of A lcuin. Calvin published 
 in 1555, after he had fled from Paris to Basle, a book 
 called Listittition dc la Religion CJircticnne dedicated 
 to Francis I. It professed to be an exposition of 
 tne doctrines of the Reformers, and to point out
 
 1/ 
 
 6 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 how undeserving they were of persecution, and how 
 untainted by all doctrines dangerous to society. In 
 this book — amplified in later editions — Calvin laid 
 tiie__foundations of the religion of the Huguenots, 
 of the Dutch, of the Scotch, of the Puritans in 
 England and America, in short of the most heroic, 
 the most militant and the most characteristic form 
 of Protestantism. 
 
 In the dogmatic part of the treatise Calvin does 
 not originate, he only presses the doctrines of others 
 to their logical conclusions. The fundamental dog- 
 ma — justification by faith of those elected by grace 
 — is borrowed from Luther and Lefevre. But Calvin 
 draws from their premises the irrefutable conclusion, 
 that those predestined to salvation by the certain 
 foreknowledge of God must of necessity be saved. 
 More original than his dogmatic theology was the 
 combination by Calvin of views about church gov- 
 ernment far more revolutionary than those of the 
 Lutherans with the High Church doctrine of the 
 independence of the Church and of its authority 
 over the State. " He saw," says a French historian, 
 "the Church among the Lutherans fallen from the 
 control of the Pope to that of the princes, and that 
 the great maxim of Luther, ' Everyman is a priest,' 
 was interpreted in practice to mean, ' Every prince 
 is a Pope.' Even in Switzerland, where there were 
 no princes, the magistrates took upon themselves to 
 legislate for the Church, which appeared to be upon 
 the point of becoming wholly merged in the State." 
 Calvin endeavoured to secure her independence and 
 spiritual authority. ' He insists upon the importance
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 7 
 
 and power of the ministry, who are to be elected 
 V ith the consent and approval of the people, the 
 pastors presiding over the election. The Consistory, 
 the assembly of ministers and elders, must admonish 
 and censure all breaches of discipline and morality. 
 The Church, as represented by this assemblage, has 
 the power of the keys, the right of excommunication 
 — surely an empty terror to the Elect ? There is no 
 remission of sins for those who are outside the pale 
 of Christ's Church, we must therefore beware of 
 separating ourselves from it, because we may have 
 been offended by some trifling imperfections. The 
 true Church is that in which the Gospels are faith- 
 fully and simply preached, in which the sacra- 
 ments are administered according to the ordinance 
 of Christ, as interpreted by Calvin, and in which 
 new articles of faith are not devised ; those who 
 separate themselves from the true Church, like the 
 Anabaptists, those who adhere to a false church like 
 the Papists, are alike apostates from the faith and 
 irrevocably damned. 
 
 It might be supposed that a careless despair, or a 
 self-satisfied and inactive acquiescence in the con- 
 viction of personal election would result from rigid 
 predestinarianism. But this has not been the case. 
 No doctrine has proved more capable of nerving 
 men for great efforts, of sustaining them in moments 
 of doubt and difficulty and isolation. The feeling 
 that we are but the puppets, or the passive instru- 
 ments of an overruling fate — identified with the 
 Divine Will — has enabled the soldier to advance 
 undaunted to a hopeless struggle, the reformer to
 
 8 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 attack institutions which have the sanction of cen- 
 turies, the martyr to beheve in his cause amid the 
 execration of a unanimous crowd. 
 
 The Papacy had upheld monarchical principles in 
 the Church. QEcumenical councils had asserted 
 the authority of an hierarchical aristocracy. The 
 constitution of Calvinism was representative and 
 emocratic. It is therefore natural that no other 
 religious system should have shown itself so favour- 
 able to political freedom. The struggles for liberty 
 and constitutional government made by the Euro- 
 pean nations during the i6th and 17th centuries 
 are unmistakably connected with Calvinism. 
 In the Netherlands, as in Scotland, the return 
 of the Protestant exiles who had taken refuge at 
 Geneva was the signal for resistance to the excesses 
 of arbitrary power. The English refugees who fled 
 from the persecution of Mary Tudor became the 
 founders of the great Puritan party. Nowhere — 
 not even at his own Geneva — were the principles of 
 Calvin more energetically carried out than in New 
 England, by the Pilgrim Fathers, the founders of 
 the freest as well as the greatest republic the world 
 is ever likely to see. 
 
 In France, as elsewhere, the Calvinists were the 
 opponents of despotism, the champions of popular 
 government. That some historians should have 
 failed to see this must be explained by the accident, 
 that the prin.ce whom the Huguenots recognised as 
 their leader, happened to be the claimant of the 
 throne by indefeasible hereditary right, so that his 
 and their enemies naturally appealed to the elective
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. ^ 
 
 and popular theory of sovereignty ; while their 
 alliance with the populace of the big towns gave a 
 spurious air of democracy to these defenders of the 
 Papacy and clients of the Spanish tyrant. 
 
 Calvin became the legislator, the acknowledged 
 leader of the French Reformers, y_et_ even Calvin 
 could have effected little without Geneva. That 
 little town, situated on the confines of three nation- 
 alities and inhabited by a French-speaking popula- 
 tion, was admirably adapted by its position to 
 interpret the teaching of Germany and Switzerland 
 to France. For a hundred years Geneva was the 
 citadel of the Evangelical religion. There were the 
 printing-presses which, as St. Francis de Sales com- 
 plained, scattered their pestilential produce over all 
 the world ; there was the Seminary, where the min- 
 isters were trained who preached the Gospel to 
 congregations assembled by stealth on desert moun- 
 tain or heath, or in towns amid the more dangerous 
 fanaticism of the crowd, whose least hazardous 
 service was to invoke the blessing of heaven while 
 they accompanied their flock into battle. There ex- 
 iles and pilgrims from every part of Europe met and 
 took council for the common interests of the Cause. 
 
 The influence of Calvin and of his doctrines was 
 needed to give the French Reformers the energy and 
 the organisation which enabled them to sustain an 
 unequal and unavoidable conflict ; yet that conflict 
 was embittered, the issue enlarged and a compromise 
 made impossible by the extreme and aggressive 
 form assumed by French dissent. The majority of 
 Englishmen who conformed with equal readiness to
 
 lo Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 the religion by law established under Mary Tudor 
 or Elizabeth probably saw no essential difference 
 between a service said in Latin or in English, but 
 the most careless Gallio could not but perceive 
 something more than a dissimilarity in forms be- 
 tween the prayers in a Calvinist meeting-house and 
 the "idolatrous sacrifice " of the Mass. 
 ' Francis I. had long shrunk from persecution, but 
 having once begun he showed no further hesitation. 
 I / During, the remainder of his reign and the whole of 
 that of his son Henry II. (1534-1559) the cruelty of 
 the sufferings inflicted on the Reformers increased 
 Avith the number of the victims. At first they were 
 strangled and burnt, then burnt alive, then hung in 
 chains to roast over a slow fire. It was found that 
 this last method of prolonging their agony gave 
 them time to sing their psalms and to pray for their 
 persecutors from the midst of the flames. Even the 
 stupid ferocity of the mob might be touched ; it was 
 therefore ordered that they should be gagged ; but 
 the fire snapped the cords, the gag fell out and the 
 ejaculations of the half-charred lips excited pity : it 
 seemed a safer plan to cut out the tongues of the 
 heretics before they were led to execution. 
 
 The Edict of Chateaubriand (1551), taking away all 
 right of appeal from those convicted of heresy, was 
 followed by an attempt to introduce an Inquisition 
 on the model of that of Spain, and when this failed 
 owing to the opposition of the lawyers, the Edict of 
 Compiegne (1557) denounced capital punishment 
 against all who in public or private professed any 
 heterodox doctrine.
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 1 1 
 
 It is a commonplace that persecution avails noth- 
 ing against the truth — that the true Church springs 
 from the blood of martyrs. Yet the same cause 
 which triumphed over persecution in France was 
 crushed by it in Spain and in the Walloon Nether^ 
 lands. Was it therefore not the truth? The fact 
 would rather seem to be, that there is no creed, no 
 sect which cannot be extirpated by force. But that 
 it may prevail, persecution must be without respect 
 of persons, universal, continuous, protracted. Not 
 one of these conditions was fulfilled in France. The 
 opinions of the greater nobles and princes, and of 
 those who were their immediate followers, were not 
 too narrowly scanned, nor was the persecution 
 equally severe at all times and in all places. Some 
 governors and judges and not a few of the higher 
 clergy inclined to toleration. Sadolet, Bishop of 
 Carpentras, protected the Vaudois, and Du Chatel 
 of Macon saved for a time Stephen Dolet, the 
 learned friend of Rabelais. " Do you, a Catholic 
 bishop, dare to defend a Lutheran and an atheist?" 
 asked the pitiless Cardinal Tournon. " I am a bishop 
 and I speak like a bishop," was the undaunted reply ; 
 " but you — you play the hangman." At the worst 
 the preachers of the Word found a sure refuge at 
 Geneva, in the dominions of the Bourbons and at 
 IVIontargis, where Renee of France, the Duchess of 
 Ferrara, kept her court. 
 
 The cheerful constancy of the French martyrs was 
 admirable. Men, women and children walked to 
 execution singing the psalms of Marot and the Song 
 of Simeon. This boldness confounded thc'r enemies.
 
 12 Henry of Navarre. ii5l2- 
 
 Havvkers distributed in every part of the country the 
 books issued from the press of Geneva and which it 
 was a capital offence even to possess. Preachers 
 taught openly in streets and market-places. One of 
 these missionaries of the Gospel was asked when in 
 prison, how it came that he laughed and rejoiced in 
 the prospect of death, although our Saviour in His 
 agony sweated blood and prayed that the cup might 
 pass from Him? Still smiling, he replied, "Christ 
 had taken upon Him all human infirmities and felt 
 the bitterness of death, but I, who by faith possess 
 such a blessing, the assurance of salvation, what can 
 I but rejoice ? " Such men died in ecstasy, insensible 
 to the diabolical ingenuity of the punishments in- 
 flicted on them. The sight of sufferings thus 
 endured could not be without an effect. More than 
 one judge was stricken to death with horror and 
 remorse ; others embraced the faith of their victims. 
 The executioner of Dijon proclaimed his conversion 
 at the foot of the scaffold. 
 
 The increasing numbers of their converts and the 
 high position of some among them gave confidence 
 to the Protestants. Delegates from the reformed 
 congregations of France were on their way to Paris 
 to take part in the deliberations of the first national 
 Synod on the very day (April 2, 1559) when the 
 geace of Cateau Cambresis was signed, a peace 
 which was to be the prelude to a vigorous and con- 
 certed effort to root out heresy on the part of the 
 kings of France and Spain. The object of the 
 meeting was twofold : first to draw up a detailed 
 profession of faith, which was submitted to Calvin —
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 13 
 
 there was, he said, Httle to add, less to correct — 
 secondly to determine the "ecclesiastical discipline" 
 of the new Church. The ministers were to be chosen 
 by the elders and deacons, but approved by the 
 whole congregation. The affairs of each congrega- f 
 tion were placed under the control of the Consistory, 
 a court composed of the pastors, elders and deacons ; 
 more important matters were reserved for the deci- 
 sion of the provincial " colloques " or synods, which 
 were to meet' twice a year, and in which each church 
 was represented by its pastor and at least one elder. 
 Above all was the national Syno d also composed of 
 the clergy and of representative laymen. 
 
 This organisation was thoroughly representative 
 and popular, the elected delegates, of the congrega- 1 y^ 
 tions, the elders and deacons, preponderated in all 
 the governing bodies, and all ministers and churches 
 were declared equaL 
 
 The Reformed churches, which although most nu- 
 merous in the South spread over almost the whole 
 country, are said at this time to have counted some 
 400,000 members (1559). These were of almost all 
 classes, except perhaps the lowest, although even 
 among the peasantry there were some martyrs for 
 the faith. Coligny truly said that the lowly had 
 been the first to show the way of salvation to the 
 rich and powerful ; the vast majority of the earliest 
 converts belonged to the middle classes, the better 
 educated artisans and traders and to the lower ranks 
 of the professions ; but the upper classes had not 
 been slow to follow. Little is proved by Michelet's 
 assertion that he could find only three men of noble
 
 IX 
 
 14 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 birth among the lists of victims who perished before 
 1555, except that the privileged classes escaped the 
 persecution the weight of which fell on their poorer 
 brethren. 
 
 The first minister of the Church of Paris, which 
 was founded by a noble, was the son of a rich and 
 dignified magistrate of Dijon ; honourable women 
 were among its earliest martyrs. The first converts 
 in Dauphiny were of gentle birth. The Edict of 
 Fontainebleau (1540) speaks of the favour and sup- 
 port received by the heretics from men of rank. In 
 Brittany the nobles welcomed the new teaching 
 which was rejected by the ignorant and supersti- 
 tious peasantry. 
 
 The rapid diffusion of their doctrines among the 
 upper classes and the consciousness of the sympathy 
 and support of men of great position probably gave 
 the Huguenots a boldness remarkable in a small 
 and persecuted minority : but it would be altogether 
 erroneous to imagine that they were an oligarchical 
 faction. The strength of the Protestants always lay 
 among the trading and professional classes and the 
 country gentry. From these classes came the men 
 who were the first to embrace a simpler faith and 
 who clung to it after great nobles, courtiers and 
 statesmen had fallen away. At the Revocation of 
 the Edict of Nantes not many Schombergs and 
 Ruvignys passed the frontiers, but 'thousands of 
 skilful artisans, frugal tradesmen and honourable 
 merchants. 
 
 The most significant, and to the orthodox the 
 most alarming, symptom of the difTusion of the new
 
 15691 Tha Reforjnation in France. 15 
 
 opinions and of the sympathy with which they were 
 regarded, was that the Parhament of Paris, long the 
 uncompromising opponent of dissent, hesitated to 
 enforce the laws against heresy. 
 
 Henry II. determined himself to be present at a 
 general meeting of the members of the various 
 courts of law, at which it was proposed to decide 
 how the laws against heresy should be applied. 
 It was thought that the King's presence would over- 
 awe those who were in favour of toleration. But 
 the most respectable magistrates disdained to con- 
 ceal their opinions. Anne du Bourg thanked God 
 that his Majesty was present at the decision of a 
 matter which concerned the cause of our Saviour. 
 " It was," he said, " no light thing to condemn those 
 who from the midst of the flames call upon His 
 name. What ! Crimes most worthy of death, blas- 
 phemy, adultery, horrible sins and perjuries are com- 
 mitted day by day with impunity in the face of 
 heaven, while day by day new tortures are devised 
 for men whose only crime is that by the light of the 
 Scriptures they have discovered the corruptions of 
 the Church of Rome ! " " Let us clearly under- 
 stand," said another judge, " who they are that 
 trouble the Church, lest it should be said, as Elijah 
 cried to King Ahab, ' Thou art he that troublest 
 Israel.' " The indignation of the King exceeded all 
 measure. He ordered Du Bourg and seven others 
 to be at once committed to the Bastille ; he swore 
 he would see Du Bourg burn with his own eyes. 
 
 But before his vengeance could take effect Henry 
 II. tilting with the Captain of his Guards was killed
 
 1 6 Henry of Navarre, » WbM- 
 
 by the splinter of a lance. Some bold believer who 
 had access to the room where the King's body lay, 
 threw over the corpse a piece of tapestry: Saul fall- 
 ing from his horse on the road to Damascus, as the 
 terrible words sounded in his ears, " Saul, Saul, why 
 persecutest thou me ? " 
 
 Although the Protestants saw the judgment of 
 God in the King's death, the more farsighted among 
 them must have doubted whether that event was 
 likely to improve their position. Two policies had 
 divided the councils of Henry II. The Constable 
 Montmorency had been in favour of alliance with 
 Spain, an alliance the necessary consequence of 
 which was the violent suppression of heresy. Mont- 
 morency's rivals, the Guises, although not less hos- 
 tile to the Reformers, were opposed to the Spanish 
 connection. They wished to support the claims of 
 their niece Mary Stuart to the English throne, and 
 dreamt of uniting France, Scotland and England 
 into a monarchy capable of balancing the Austro- 
 Spanish power. Thus it came that Philip II. was 
 compelled to protect the heretic Elizabeth, while 
 the Guises were placed in the difficult position of 
 being at once the enemies of Spain and of Protes- 
 tantism. 
 
 The Guises, ignoring the elder branch of their 
 family, which sought to maintain itself peaceably and 
 unambitiously in Lorraine, and to provoke as little 
 as might be the interference of more powerful neigh- 
 bours, claimed to be the representatives of the 
 ambitious and unfortunate House of Anjou, from 
 which they were descended in the female line. Duke
 
 1569J The Reformation in France. 1 7 
 
 Francis signed his marriage contract " Francis of 
 Anjou " ; he obtained from Henry II. when Dau- 
 phin a promise of the investiture, or as he preferred 
 to call it the " restitution " of Provence ; he sacri- 
 ficed, when commanding an army in Italy, the 
 interests of France to some chimerical plan for 
 asserting the old Angevin claim to the Crown of 
 Naples. This baseless assumption was the prelude 
 to bolder flights of ambitious fancy. The time was 
 not far distant when the agents and pamphleteers 
 of the House of Lorraine strove to establish that 
 the Crown of France might more justly be worn by 
 the descendants of Charles the Great than by any 
 member of the usurping House of Capet. 
 
 The Duke of Guise had the reputation of a great 
 and popular captain. He had been successful in 
 war, his bravery was undoubted, and he affected 
 magnanimity in success and a soldierly directness 
 of bearing and conduct. The pliant disposition of 
 his brother the Cardinal, his experience in every 
 form of intrigue, maintained the influence of the 
 family at Court, and enabled the Duke to stand 
 aloof from a contest of meanness and duplicity, alien 
 not so much to his real character as to an ostentatious 
 display of chivalrous pride and independence. 
 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine was of graceful and 
 commanding presence, gifted with refined and per- 
 suasive eloquence, an accomplished scholar and 
 singularly successful in winning the confidence of 
 those with whom he conversed ; but he was as mean- 
 spirited and despondent in adversity as he was 
 arrogant and presumptuous in success, and the
 
 1 8 Henry of Navarre. {\b\2- 
 
 lustre of many splendid qualities was dimmed by a 
 sordid avarice unusual in a man of such lofty ambi- 
 tion ; and not to be excused in one who enjoyed 
 the revenues of three archbishoprics, nine bishoprics 
 and numerous other benefices. 
 
 The accession of Francis II. threw the whole gov- 
 ernment of the State into the hands of the Guises. 
 The new King was a sickly boy, weak in body and 
 mind, the slave of his wife Mary Stuart, who was 
 herself ruled by her uncles. 
 
 The Cardinal of Lorraine was so elated to find 
 himself in the undisputed control of the royal power 
 that he disdained to conciliate his rivals and enemies. 
 The Princes of the Blood were treated with con- 
 tempt, the Queen-Mother was neglected, no attempt 
 was made to disarm the hostility of the nobles, who 
 hated the Guises as foreign favourites and upstarts. 
 The Protestants were persecuted with increased 
 severity. All who attended their meetings, all who 
 knew of such meetings and did not at once denounce 
 them, were to be punished by death. Du Bourgwas 
 burnt, notwithstanding the urgent intercessions of 
 the Elector Palatine and the Swiss. 
 
 The authority of the Guises depended on the frail 
 life of the King ; their power was not firmly enough 
 established to render hopeless the thoughts of resist- 
 ance which it provoked. These Lotheringians, it was 
 muttered, had usurped the Government ; if the King 
 was himself incapable of ruling he ought to be 
 assisted by the natural advisers of the Crown, the 
 Princes of the Blood, the great officers of state, the 
 representatives of the Three Estates of the Realm.
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 19 
 
 Calvin persistently inculcated the passive endur- 
 ance of persecution, and the majority of the ministers 
 of the French Church were his obedient disciples, 
 but it became more and more difficult for them to 
 restrain their flocks. The early Christians had suf- 
 fered themselves to be led unresistingly to martyr- 
 dom, and had not cared to attempt to reform — 
 except by their prayers and example— a state and a 
 society of which they scarcely felt themselves to be 
 members, and the end of which they believed to 
 be at hand. There was little of this patient spirit 
 about the Huguenots — as the French Protestants 
 began to be called.*' Those of them who belonged 
 to the middle classes had not yet forgotten the 
 struggles of their ancestors for municipal indepen- 
 dence ; the country people had, it is true, been accus- 
 tomed to oppression, but there were few proselytes 
 among the peasantry, except where, as in Languedoc 
 and the country of the Vaudois, the ground was 
 prepared by older traditions of resistance ; least of 
 all were the Protestant noblemen and gentlemen, 
 whose numbers were rapidly increasing, disposed 
 quietly to submit to persecution. By what argu- 
 ments could Calvin restrain them ? He might 
 appeal to a few isolated texts in the New Testament, 
 but the Huguenots, like the Puritans, considered 
 themselves a chosen people, and could find warrant 
 enough in Holy Writ for smiting the enemies of the 
 Lord. If any scruple was still felt in resisting a 
 
 * The derivation of this name is very obscure. According to the 
 most probable guess it is a corruption of the German, " Eidgenossen,^" 
 confederates.
 
 20 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 lawfully constituted authority, this, it was urged, did 
 not apply to the tyranny of the Guises. Moreover, 
 the Protestants were dragged before extraordinary 
 tribunals unknown to the laws, or hunted down by 
 riotous mobs. It was afterwards their boast, that 
 they had patiently submitted so long as they had 
 been butchered under the forms of law and by 
 sentence of the established courts. 
 
 In the spring of 1560, partly among the Hugue- 
 nots, partly among those who for public or private 
 reasons hated the Guises, a plot was formed to seize 
 the King and to place the Prince of Cond^ at the 
 head of the Government. The conspirators failed, 
 and were cruelly punished. But at an assembly of 
 notables, which the Cardinal had summoned in his 
 first alarm, those who were opposed to the policy 
 of the Government on religious and political grounds 
 made themselves heard. Marillac, Archbishop of 
 Vienne, an old diplomatist, insisted that the repre- 
 jSentatives of the nation ought to take their part in 
 / the government of the country ; the Admiral of 
 I / France, Coligny, presented a petition from the 
 Reformers of Normandy, of which province he was 
 governor, repudiating all sympathy with the late 
 conspiracy but demanding toleration. 
 
 The Guises believed that the influence of the 
 Government could secure a subservient majority and 
 determined to summon the Estates. The Protes- 
 tants were to be excluded by requiring all members 
 to subscribe an orthodox confession of faith. All 
 who refused to do so would not only not be allowed 
 to take their seats, but would be at once thrown into
 
 1569] The Reformation ifi France. 2i 
 
 prison ajul punislicd as heretics without further 
 form of trial. 
 
 By these means the Guises trusted to obtain from 
 the States-General such a confirmation of their 
 authority as might effectually silence all objections 
 to its legitimacy. They were the more confident 
 because the men who would have been the natural 
 leaders of all opposition both religious and political, 
 Antony of Bourbon, King of Navarre, and his brother 
 Lewis, Prince of Conde, had foolishly ventured to 
 Court and placed themselves in their power, and 
 might be punished as accomplices in the conspiracy 
 against the liberty of the King. 
 
 The death of Francis II. (December 5, 1560) 
 frustrated all these plans. The accession of Charles 
 IX., a child barely eleven years old, necessitated the 
 appointment of a Regent. That Regent could only 
 be the Queen-Mother or the first Prince of the 
 Blood, the King of Navarre. But the latter had 
 promised Catherine de' Medici as the price of her 
 protection against the Guises, that he would not, in 
 the event of the King's death, press his claim to the 
 Regency, and he now kept his word. But the coun- 
 cil decided that all questions should in the first 
 instance be referred to him, and if his authority 
 carried little weight, this was due rather to his 
 weakness and want of political skill, than to the fact 
 that he did not hold the title of Regent, 
 
 The States-General met on December 15, 1560, 
 but under auspices very different from what had 
 been anticipated. The enemies of the Guises, the 
 Bourbons, Montmorency and Chatillons, were now
 
 22 Henry of Navarre. [1512 
 
 in the ascendant in the royal council. Notwith- 
 standing government influence many Protestants 
 had been elected and were allowed to take their 
 seats ; a larger number of members belonged to the 
 moderate party ; and as yet all who were not fanati- 
 cally orthodox were disposed to sympathise with 
 the Huguenots, who so far had suffered without 
 attempting to retaliate on their enemies. 
 
 The proceedings of the States-General of 1561 
 would, had we space, be deserving of our most care- 
 ful attention, because they show that there was at 
 that time in France a large party in favour of a 
 policy of religious, constitutional and administrative 
 reform, which could it have been adopted might 
 have changed the whole future of the country and 
 have saved it from many years, perhaps from centuries, 
 of war, suffering, despotism and revolution : because 
 then for the first time we find the great principle of 
 toleration authoritatively laid down. " It is unrea- 
 sonable to compel men to do what in their hearts 
 they consider wrong. , . , for whatever we do 
 against our conscience is sin." 
 
 The Estates would have sold the property of the 
 ,(3hurch for the benefit of the King and nation, re- 
 formed Religion in accordance with the word of God. 
 as interpreted by a national council in which both 
 the clergy and representative laymen should have 
 sat, limited the royal prerogative by periodical meet- 
 ings of the representatives of the nation, diminished 
 the privileges of the nobles, and substituted an elec- 
 tive magistracy for one which, owing to the sale of 
 offices, was rapidly becoming hereditary.
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 23 
 
 The demands of the States-General of 1561 are 
 the best evidence of the poHtical tendencies of the 
 majority of the Huguenots and of those moderate 
 men who although opposed or indifferent to changes 
 in doctrine were hostile to the Pope, the King of 
 Spain and the Guises. We may contemplate in 
 them an ideal, compared with which all that Henry 
 IV. was able to effect shrinks into insignificance. 
 But what he attempted was possible, the scheme of 
 the Reformers of 1561 was too complete and con- 
 sistent to be within the range of practical politics. 
 Changes so great could only have been effected by 
 an overwhelming tide of public opinion, or by an 
 energetic minority controlling the machinery of 
 government. The States-General were not supported 
 by public opinion and many of the measures they 
 proposed excited the violent opposition of all 
 constituted authorities. The Third Estate for the 
 most part represented municipal oligarchies, neither 
 numerous nor popular. The nobility were not organ- 
 ised for united action ; among their natural leaders, 
 the great nobles and princes, there were few who 
 were not mainly actuated by selfish motives, and 
 those few were w^anting in political insight. Coligny, 
 pre-eminent in character, ability and position, failed 
 to see that a reformed Church was possible only in 
 a reformed State. 
 
 Not only did the proposals of the Estates meet 
 with no acceptance, but the dislike with which they 
 were regarded was extended to the religious opinions 
 with which they were believed to be connected. 
 
 We may henceforth notice a marked change in the 
 
 K
 
 \ 
 
 24 Henry of Navarre. 11512- 
 
 attitude of the Parliaments, of the higher clergy and 
 of a powerful party at Court, whose enmity to the 
 Huguenots became implacable. The lawyers were 
 indignant at the attempt, if not suggested, at any 
 rate countenanced by the Protestants, to interfere 
 with the number, the emoluments and the tenure of 
 judicial offices, which they had begun to consider 
 the hereditary possessions of their families. They 
 were especially jealous of the interference of the 
 States-General, for they had never regarded the 
 principle of representative government with favour, 
 and had themselves usurped many of the functions 
 which a popular assembly, meeting at regular inter- 
 vals, would have resumed. Henceforward all but a 
 small minority of the judges were eager to strain 
 the laws against the dissenters and reluctant to apply 
 them in their favour. 
 
 It was, as we shall see, only after years of civil 
 war, after full experience of the unpatriotic fanati- 
 cism, the anarchy, the selfish and unconstitutional 
 ambition of the League and its leaders, after the 
 weight of their traditional respect for monarchical 
 principles had been thrown into the scale, that a 
 considerable number of the more eminent lawyers 
 joined the moderate or " political " party ; and, even 
 then, a majority in the courts opposed the formal 
 recognition of the principle of toleration. 
 
 Hitherto, also, many of the higher clergy, though 
 they had not embraced Calvinism, had been well 
 disposed to some measures of reform, which, freeing 
 them from the interference of the Roman Curia and 
 the avarice of Italian churchmen, might leave them
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 25 
 
 in the enjoyment of their revenues and dignity ; but 
 henceforth, since the Reformers proposed the secu- 
 larisation of the estates of the Church, they could 
 only be regarded as pestilent heretics. 
 
 A proposal to resume the lavish grants of money, 
 crown lands and pensions made to his favourites by 
 Henry II. alarmed and irritated many powerful men, 
 such as the Constable Montmorency and Marshal 
 St. Andre ; while the fact that the Huguenots should 
 have been able to exercise so great an influence 
 over the election of the members of the Estates, was 
 a confirmation of the alarming reports of the wide 
 diffusion of the new doctrines. Fear stimulated the 
 hatred of their enemies. 
 
 A quarter of the inhabitants of France were, it 
 was said, included in the 2,500 reformed congrega- 
 tions. This is certainly an exaggeration, but it is 
 probable that the number of the Protestants was 
 never greater than during the first years of the reign 
 of Charles IX. What that number was we can only 
 guess. The 2,500 congregations may have existed ; 
 but while some of these counted many hundred or 
 even thousand members, others were composed of 
 only the family and retainers of the owner of the 
 manor-house in which they met. On the other hand 
 among the townspeople and smaller gentry there 
 must have been numerous believers who had no op- 
 portunity of public worship, or but seldom met to 
 partake of the rare ministrations of an itinerant 
 preacher. The most probable estimate is that at 
 the beginning of the wars of religion, the Hugue- 
 noti with women and children amounted to some
 
 26 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 1,500,000 souls out of a population of between 
 fifteen and twenty millions. But in this minority 
 were included about one-fourth of the lesser nobility, 
 the country gentlemen, and a smaller proportion of 
 the great nobles, the majority of the better sort of 
 townspeople in many of the most important towns, 
 such as Caen, Dieppe, Havre, Nantes, La Rochelle, 
 Nimes, Montpellier, Montauban, Chalons, Macon, 
 Lyons, Valence, Limoges and Grenoble, and an im- 
 portant minority in other places, such as Rouen, 
 Orleans, Bordeaux and Toulouse. The Protestants 
 were most numerous in the South-west, in Poitou, 
 in the Marche, Limousin, Angoumois and Perigord, 
 because in those districts, which were the seats of 
 long-established and flourishing manufactures, the 
 middle classes were most prosperous, intelligent and 
 educated. 
 
 It is doubtful whether the Catholics were not in a 
 large majority, even where the superior position, 
 intelligence and vigour of the Huguenots gave them 
 the upper hand. Only in some parts of the South-west 
 and of Dauphiny do the bulk of the population appear 
 to have been decidedly hostile to the old religion. 
 
 During the course of the Civil War the Protes- 
 tants came to be more and more concentrated in 
 certain parts of the country, as for instance betvv"=?en 
 the Garonne and the Loire. A scheme for the con- 
 version of this district into a Protestant republic was 
 discussed by the English Council as late as 1625. 
 Where they were not strong enough to hold their 
 own in arms the Huguenots were either compelled to 
 migrate or were butchered and extirpated.
 
 1569] The Reformation i7i France. 27 
 
 On the first outbreak of hostilities, the Catholi^.s 
 of Toulouse supported by the Parliament massacred 
 or drove into exile 3,000 heretics, — among them a 
 majority of the scholars of the University and 
 nearly all the leading members of the municipality. 
 In Provence, although supported by the Governor, 
 the Count of Tenda, the Protestants could not main- 
 tain themselves. The Parliament of Aix began the 
 work of extirpation by sentencing 1,300 heretics to 
 the flames. These are two instances out of many. 
 Thus it was that Protestantism tended to become 
 more and more local in character. Yet from the 
 first it made little way in the North-east, in Picardy 
 and in Champagne, and in the very heart of the 
 country, the Isle de France. It must therefore be 
 allowed that the Reformation took root most readily 
 in those provinces where the traditions of local inde- 
 pendence were strongest, or the immediate authority /^ 
 of the Crown most recent, in Gascony, Guienne, ' 
 Languedoc and Dauphiny. 
 
 The Huguenot preachers at first met with con- 
 siderable success in Paris. Their congregations 
 amounted at times to 50,000 people, but they could 
 not make way against the fanaticism of the mob, 
 the unscrupulous hatred of the clergy, the opposi- 
 tion of the municipality, who dreaded disturbance, 
 and the enmity of Parliament and University. 
 The Protestants, La Noue tells us, were as little 
 a match for their opponents in the capital as a gnat 
 is for an elephant : the novices of the convents 
 and the priests' housekeepers could have driven 
 them out with their broomsticks. Paris indeed was
 
 28 Henry of Navarre. \\^\1- 
 
 scarcely less than Rome the centre of Catholicism. 
 Tier University was the chosen abode of sacred 
 learning, the supreme teacher and judge of ortho- 
 dox doctrine. All strangers admired the piety of 
 the Parisians and the many churches which vied 
 with each other in the splendour of their services 
 and filled the air with the peals which rang from the 
 forest of their spires and towers. The streets were 
 crowded with monks and nuns ; a procession was 
 met at every turn, and the passerby who did not do 
 reverence to the Host by kneeling in the filth of the 
 ill-paved lanes was likely to rue his excess of nice- 
 ness or want of fervour. The tenants and clients of 
 the monks filled the populous suburbs, which for the 
 most part were the property of the great religious 
 houses, St. Germain des Pres, the Charterhouse on 
 the site of the Luxembourg, St. Victor, the Car- 
 melites in the Faubourg St. Jacques. The Univer- 
 sity with its sixty-five colleges was almost a town in 
 itself. Inside the walls the convents and monas- 
 teries were not less numerous, many of them rising 
 like fortresses from the lofty enclosures of their 
 gardens. 
 
 Not only were the Huguenots but a small minority 
 of the nation, but that minority itself was composed 
 of two very different classes of men. There were 
 those whom we may call the French Puritans, men 
 of austere life and firm convictions, who wished to 
 establish throughout France the same rigid disci- 
 pline which Calvin had introduced at Geneva, and 
 which John Knox was labouring to uphold in Scot- 
 land. There were also those who had embraced the
 
 1569] The Reformation in France. 29 
 
 doctrines of the Reformation, not so much from 
 spiritual conviction as from discontent with the 
 abuses of Rome, from love of change, from the 
 influence of the new learning, which had shaken the 
 foundation of old beliefs, or for purely political and 
 social reasons. 
 
 The bold attitude of the Reformers in the Estates, 
 the apparent influence at Court of the King of 
 Navarre, who boasted that before the year was out 
 the Gospel should be preached throughout the King- 
 dom, the conversion of many even of the higher 
 clergy, the Cardinal of Chatillon, the Archbishop of 
 Aix, th.^ Bishops of Uz^s, Oleron, Lescars, Chartres 
 and Troyes, were held to be heretics — these were 
 among the signs which convinced many that the 
 Reformation was on the point of triumphing in 
 France. Time-servers like Monluc, Bishop of Va- 
 lence, began to preach the Gospel and to denounce 
 the errors of Rome to crowded congregations of 
 courtiers and nobles, many of whom were glad to 
 show their sympathy with a less superstitious creed 
 by eating meat in Lent, avoiding the confessional 
 and looking forward to a share in the spoils of the 
 Church. 
 
 The Queen-Mother appeared not displeased to 
 see her ladies reading the New Testament, singing 
 the psalms of Marot, and practising the "language 
 of Canaan," as they called the biblican cant of the 
 zealous Reformers. Margaret of Valois boasts in 
 her memoirs that her infant orthodoxy stood un- 
 shaken in the midst of this rising tide of heresy, in 
 spite of persecution suffered at the hands of her
 
 2,0 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 brother, Henry of Anjou, because she would not 
 change her missal for a Calvinist hymn-book. 
 
 Indifferent to the principles involved, Catherine 
 de' Medici was watching events, leaving them to 
 determine what her future policy should be. 
 
 Thus much at any rate was clear, that it was to her 
 interest that neither party should become so strong 
 as to be indifferent to her support. Besides she was 
 as much attracted by the intrigues, the constant 
 negotiations, the trickery which a trimming policy 
 entailed, as she was repelled by the dangers of a 
 more decided course. Machiavelli's heroes, the Cas- 
 tracanis, the Sforzas, the Borgias of Italian history, 
 may be cited to prove that courage and a tortuous 
 policy are not incompatible : their treachery often 
 wears the air of splendid audacity. Not so the 
 statecraft of the Florentine who so long and so 
 fatally influenced the destinies of France. 
 [ The character of Catherine, which has sometimes 
 been called an enigma, would rather appear to have 
 been singularly simple. A really great statesman 
 must understand the varied passions and motives 
 of men ; he will understand them best if he has him- 
 self experienced them, if he is indeed " so various as 
 to be, not one, but all mankind's epitome," but he 
 may also understand them, less intimately indeed yet 
 sufficiently, by the force of a powerful and sympa- 
 thetic imagination. Catherine had neither passion 
 nor enthusiasm nor virtue. Revenge and hatred, if 
 not malice and rancour, were as strange to her nature 
 as gratitude and love ; nor had she sufficient imagi- 
 nation to realise how others might be influenced by
 
 1569] The Wars of Religion. 3 1 
 
 emotions of which she herself had no experience. 
 Hence the defects of her poHcy, due less to her ina- 
 bility to see that the tricks and devices, which might 
 have been successful in some petty Italian State, were 
 ill adapted to the wider stage and different con- 
 ditions of France, than to the assumption that 
 others were swayed by the same simple motives of 
 self-interest as herself. Thus her schemes generally 
 ended in failure, though she was a clever, unscrupu- 
 lous woman with insight and adroitness, full of 
 energy and restless activity ; as indefatigable in the 
 pursuit of her ambitious intrigues as she had been, 
 when younger, in hunting the deer amid the forests 
 of Vincennes and Touraine. s 
 
 Since it seemed to the Queen-Mother's interest to 
 endeavour to keep the peace between the Reformers 
 and their enemies, lest she should be at the mercy of 
 the conquerors, she allowed herself to be guided by 
 the Chancellor L'Hopital, a sincere advocate of 
 toleration, and a true patriot, a man, says a contem- 
 porary, "who wore the lilies in his heart." 
 
 L'Hopital had shown by his opening address to 
 the States-General, in which he expatiated on the old 
 maxim — one faith, one law, one king — that he, a 
 representative of those moderate men, afterwards 
 called " politicians," still clung to the Galilean prin- 
 ciple of the intimate connection between Church and 
 State, of the dependence of the unity of the one on 
 the unity of the other. A Frenchman and an Eng- 
 lishman, he said, might, holding the same faith, live 
 in peace together ; not so two citizens of the same 
 town who differ in religion. He dreamt of some
 
 32 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 compromise acceptable both to the Huguenots 
 and to the orthodox. But of such a compromise 
 the necessary conditions were, first, mutual tolera- 
 tion, and secondly, a calm discussion of the points at 
 issue. ' The Chancellor persuaded the Queen-Mother 
 to assent to an edict, known as the Edict of January, 
 by which all breaches of the public peace were strictly 
 forbidden ; and toleration promised to the Protestant 
 congregations, provided that they built no new 
 places of worship, restored the churches they had 
 occupied and held no synods without the sanction of 
 the royal council. 
 
 But a conference of the most moderate Protestant 
 and Romanist theologians at Poissy disclosed the 
 impossibility of a compromise when the points at 
 issue were fundamental ; and the Regent, in return 
 for a large subsidy, promised the clergy to maintain 
 the rights, privileges and orthodoxy of the Catholic 
 Church. 
 
 The " Edict of January," although very note- 
 worthy as the first legal recognition obtained by the 
 Reformed Church, was merely an attempt to compel 
 the members of the two religions to live peaceably 
 together under the protection of the law.' 
 
 It was intended by L'Hopital to be a temporary 
 expedient, lasting only till some compromise could 
 be effected. It did not go far enough to satisfy the 
 majority of the Huguenots, whose hopes had been 
 raised to an extravagant pitch, while it excited the 
 violent opposition of the Catholics and may be said 
 to have given the signal of civil war. Every- 
 where the Huguenots were exposed to violence and
 
 1569] 
 
 The Wars of Religion. 33 
 
 insult, and vainly importuned the law courts for 
 protection and redress. In Paris attempts were made 
 by the mob to disturb the worship of the Protestants 
 in the suburbs. Riot and bloodshed followed. The 
 King's council ordered the townspeople to be dis- 
 armed. It was clear, the citizens muttered, that the 
 Court intended to deliver up the orthodox people of 
 Paris to the tender mercies of the Prince of Cond6 
 and his armed nobles. Cond6 was now the acknowl- 
 edged leader of the Huguenots. His credulous and 
 vacillating brother, Antony of Navarre, had preferred 
 the vague and deceitful promises of Spain to his 
 religion and his party. The baits by which he was 
 caught give the measure of his capacity. The king- 
 dom of Sardinia and conquests on the African coast, 
 or the hand of Mary Stuart and the help of Spain 
 to make good her pretensions to the English Crown: 
 true he was married and owed his title and the greater 
 part of his dominions to his wife, but the Pope might 
 annul his marriage with a heretic. 
 
 The first service which Antony of Bourbon did his 
 new allies was to demand that the Admiral Coligny 
 should be dismissed from Court. Coligny, who seems 
 to have dreaded the outbreak of hostilities more than 
 any other man, and to have foreseen more clearly 
 the evils of civil war and the dangers of his party, 
 voluntarily left Paris. Catherine endeavoured to 
 obtain the simultaneous retirement of the Catholic 
 leaders. But the Marshal St. Andr6, a man enriched 
 and powerful by the favour of Henry II., refused to 
 go to Lyons, the seat of his government, and spoke 
 of the Queen-Mother in no measured terms. He 
 
 3
 
 34 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 said, she would but meet with her deserts if she were 
 tied in a sack and tossed into the river. The Guises 
 and their allies agreed to meet in Paris (March, i'562) 
 and to try conclusions with Conde. It was clear that 
 hostilities could not long be averted. 
 
 It was important to deprive the Huguenots of the 
 sympathy and help of the German Lutherans. No 
 prince had greater influence among the German 
 Protestants, by his character and family connections, 
 than Duke Christopher of Wuj'temberg. The Duke 
 of Guise and his brother the Cardinal visited him. 
 They were prodigal of flattery and caresses. They 
 listened to the arguments of his theologians and 
 pronounced them reasonable, nay convincing. The 
 Duke said he was a rough soldief and did not profess 
 to understand such things, but it seemed to him that 
 he was a Lutheran. The Cardinal declared that he 
 would as soon pray in a black gowm as a red. Both 
 thanked God that they never had and swore that 
 they never would put any man to death for his 
 religion's sake. The first, act of the Duke on his 
 return w^as, as he passed through St. Nicholas in 
 Lorraine, to order the execution of an artisan whose 
 child had been baptised according to the Lutheran 
 rite ! On reaching Vassy, a small manufacturing 
 town, whose inhabitants had embraced Calvinism, 
 he allowed his guards to fire upon a barn in which 
 they were assembled for their Sunday worship. The 
 Protestants tried to barricade the door and a horrid 
 struggle ensued, if indeed that can be called a strug- 
 gle in which one side consisted of unarmed towns- 
 folk encumbered by women and children, the other
 
 1569] The Wars of Religion. 35 
 
 of veteran soldiers armed to the teeth. Sixty men, 
 women and children were killed and far more 
 wounded. But the importance of the " Massacre of 
 Vassy," from which we may date the commencement 
 of the wars of religion which were to desolate France 
 for more than a generation, was out of all proportion 
 to the number of vactims ; far more atrocious scenes 
 of bloodshed had taken place in the South, yet had 
 excited little attention. It was the presence of 
 Guise at this bold violation of the Edict of January, 
 at this defiance of the Huguenots and of the law, 
 which made it so important. The most notable man 
 in the Catholic party had thrown down the gauntlet, 
 would the Protestants dare to pick it up ? 
 '•• The Catholic preachers glorified the slaughter of the 
 heretics. They justified it by the example of Moses 
 who ha^ caused the worshippers- of the golden calf 
 to be slain, and of Jehu whose godly zeal had 
 put to the* sword two kings and twelve hundred 
 princes, and cast out Queen Jezebel to be eaten by 
 the dogs. The irritation .of the Protestants was 
 proportionate to the- exultation of their enemies^ 
 They sent Beza, the most eminent as well as the 
 most courtly of their divines, to wait upon the Queen 
 and to demand the punishment of the assassins who 
 violated the royal edict. These requests were ar- 
 dently supported by Conde, who offered to raise 
 50,000 men to maintain the King's authority. The 
 King of Navarre on the other hand angrily reproached 
 Beza with stirring up civil strife : " Sire," replied the 
 divine, " it is true that it is for the Church of God 
 to receive rather than to give blows, but remember.
 
 36 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 it is an anvil on which many hammers have been 
 broken." 
 
 On March 10, Guise, accompanied by other 
 nobles and escorted by 2,000 men-at-arms, entered 
 Paris. The people hailed him as their deliverer and 
 received him with royal honours. Cond^ was com- 
 pelled to leave the city and fell back on Meaux in- 
 stead of hurrying with the forces at his command to 
 Fontainebleau, whither the Queen-Mother and her 
 children had retired, and thus securing for his party 
 the prestige of the King's name and presence. 
 
 Catherine had repeatedly written urging him to 
 protect her, the King and the nation against the 
 men who would overthrow all peace and order. But 
 before the Prince made up his mind to act, the op- 
 portunity was gone. The confederates had reached 
 Fontainebleau, and although the Queen-Mother 
 resisted for a few days, and even attempted flight, 
 she was in the end compelled or persuaded to return 
 to Paris. 
 
 Conde had perhaps been delayed by the hesitation 
 of Coligny. The Admiral shrank from civil war, he 
 recognised also more clearly than his friends the 
 weakness of his party. His brothers and his wife 
 urged him to join the Prince ; for two days he 
 refused to listen to their arguments. The story has 
 often been told how during the night he was aroused 
 by the sobs of his wife : " Husband, I fear lest to 
 be so wise in the wisdom of this world prove folly in 
 God's sight ; you Avill be the murderer of those 
 whose murder you do not prevent." " Lay your 
 hand on your heart," he replied, " ask yourself
 
 1569] The Wars of Religion. 37 
 
 whether you are ready to bear failure and defeat, 
 the reproaches of enemies and friends, the condemna- 
 tion of the many who judge causes by the event, 
 treason, exile, dishonour, nakedness, hunger, and, 
 harder to endure, the hunger of your children, death 
 on the scaffold after seeing your husband suffer. 
 Ponder these thing for three weeks, and then, if you 
 so decide, I will go and perish with you, and with 
 our friends." " The three weeks are already passed," 
 she exclaimed, "let not the blood of the victims of 
 three weeks be upon your head, or I shall be a witness 
 against you before the judgment-seat of God." 
 Next morning the Admiral took horse with his house- 
 hold and his brothers to join the Prince of Cond6 
 at Meaux, and the civil war had begun which was to 
 desolate France for forty years. 
 
 Was the hesitation of Coligny justified? Had the 
 Protestants any alternative to an appeal to the 
 sword? Some writers both at the time and since 
 have maintained that if the Huguenots had continued 
 to submit to persecution with the same patience as 
 in the past, their doctrine would have continued to 
 spread ; that the sight of their sufferings and of 
 their virtues would have converted the less fanatical 
 of their opponents and have softened the hearts of 
 even the most cruel. Undoubtedly the number of 
 Protestants in France diminished after the first civil 
 war ; therefore it is argued the war was the cause of 
 that diminution. But the Great Hound, as the 
 Catholics called the fanatical mob, had been slipped ; 
 before the outbreak of hostilities, the Protestants of 
 the middle classes were beine massacred or robbed
 
 38 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 and driven into exile by their orthodox neighbours. 
 There were more victims in 1562 than ten years 
 later in the year of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. 
 Soon the nobility would have fared no better. Even 
 the leaders themselves, had they not taken up arms, 
 would have been sacrificed to the jealous ambition 
 cloaked by religious zeal of the Guises and their 
 allies. No patient endurance on the part of the 
 Huguenots would have disarmed their persecutors ; 
 and the time was past when such patient endurance 
 could be expected from them. Here and there they 
 were and felt themselves to be the stronger party. 
 The images and relics of the Papists were an abom- 
 ination to them ; on these at any rate they could 
 avenge the sufferings of their brethren. But, although 
 with few exceptions they abstained at first from 
 injury to the property or persons of Catholics, the 
 orthodox population resented far more bitterly the 
 disfigurement of a statue of the Virgin, the destruc- 
 tion of the toe bone of St. Crispin, or the thumb nail 
 of St. Athanasius, than an insult to a nun or the 
 assassination of a friar. 
 
 Yet, although we hold that the Protestants had 
 no alternative but to fight for their existence, when 
 once they had drawn the sword, all chance of France 
 becoming a Protestant country, if such chance ever 
 existed, was at an end. They were too small a 
 minority to impose their faith on a majority whose 
 fanaticism and zeal were inflamed by the struggle. 
 
 At the outset the numerical superiority of the 
 Catholics was to some extent counterbalanced by 
 the organisation of the Protestant churches, which
 
 1569] The Wars of Religion. 39 
 
 enabled the Huguenots to act with singular una- 
 nimity and concert. They had seized many of the 
 most important towns before their adversaries had 
 even begun to take the field. It was also counter- 
 balanced by the fact that the Huguenot minority 
 was almost entirely composed of the most warlike, 
 intelligent and industrious classes ; that in short 
 it comprised the very flower of the French people. 
 The noblest traditions of feudal chivalry, the culture 
 of the Renaissance, a piety inspired and sustained 
 by the constant study of the Gospels produced men 
 in whom the best characteristics of their nation were 
 combined with a moral elevation, a purity and 
 dignity of character, " an heroic breath of soul ani- 
 mated by a simple piety and chastened by a chequered 
 experience " rarely if ever equalled. By the side of 
 the Colignys, the La Noues and Du Plessis-Mornays, 
 the characters of the Eliots, Hampdens and Hutchin- 
 sons of our own civil wars appear narrow and incom- 
 plete, and not a few of the rank and file of the party 
 were worthy of such leaders. But besides their 
 numerical superiority the Catholics had three great 
 advantages : the possession of the King's person ; 
 the control of the capital and the sympathy of its 
 inhabitants ; the command of the financial resources 
 of the Government and of the clergy. 
 
 The contributions of their churches were a pre- 
 carious resource, insufficient to provide for the 
 regular payment of the infantry and of the foreign 
 mercenaries, whom the Protestants were obliged to 
 employ. The cavalry which formed the strength of 
 the Huguenot armies was indeed composed almost
 
 40 Henry of Navarre. [1512- 
 
 entirely of the gentry, who served at their own ex- 
 pense. It was their poverty which compelled them, 
 armed only with rapier and pistols, to encounter the 
 mailclad lancers of the royal armies. Few among 
 them could afford the high price of a trained charger, 
 able to carry his own and his rider's armour. But 
 though, in La Noue's phrase, the Huguenot gentry 
 were better armed with courage than corselets, the 
 lightness of their equipment had its advantages. It 
 enabled them by the rapidity of their movements to 
 hold their own against the greater numbers of their 
 enemies. In battle, the cumbrous defensive armour 
 and ponderous lance of the man-at-arms made him a 
 formidable antagonist, but only when he could fight in 
 his own way and on suitable ground. A more serious 
 disadvantage was the difficulty of enforcing dis- 
 cipline among these well-born volunteers, of inducing 
 them to serve far away from their homes and the 
 impossibility of keeping them together for a long 
 campaign. The dangers incurred by their families 
 during their absence, the necessity of obtaining 
 further resources, could always be alleged as an 
 excuse for leaving the army. 
 
 The leadership of Conde was another source of 
 weakness to the Protestant cause. Lewis of Bourbon 
 was more sincerely attached to the Reformed Reli- 
 gion than his brother, yet the licence of his life was 
 strangely at variance with Puritan morality. More 
 than once Calvin had rebuked him for his " mad in- 
 trigues," which were not less dangerous to the cause 
 than to his own salvation. His good nature, his 
 bravery and his chivalry were far from compen-
 
 15691 The Wars of Religion, ' 41 
 
 sating for his political incapacity and reckless- 
 ness. On most occasions the Prince, much to his 
 credit, showed due deference to the wisdom and ex- 
 perience of Coligny, his uncle by marriage ; yet 
 there were times when the Admiral must have felt 
 how greatly the necessity of working in harmony 
 with such a man, of leading while he appeared to 
 follow, increased the difficulties of the situation. 
 y We have not space to follow the events of the wars 
 of religion, except so far as they immediately affected 
 the fortunes of Henry of Navarre. Nor is it im- 
 portant to remember the terms of treaties and of 
 edicts of toleration which were never observed, nor 
 perhaps intended to be observed, or the details of 
 battles which decided nothing, and to each of which 
 we might apply the answer of Marshal Vielleville 
 when asked by Charles IX. who had won the day at 
 St. Denis (1567). " Neither your Majesty nor the 
 Prince of Cond6, but King Philip of Spain, since as 
 many gallant gentlemen have fallen on both sides, as 
 would have sufficed to drive the Spaniards out of 
 Flanders." 
 
 One by one the men fell whose ambition had led 
 them to provoke the war in the name of Him who 
 had said that whoso draws the sword shall perish by 
 the sword ; St. Andre at Dreux, Antony of Bourbon 
 in the same year before Rouen (1562); in the next 
 year Francis of Guise by the hand of an assassin ; 
 four years later the Constable Anne of Mont- 
 morency at St. Denis. ; 
 
 In the summer of 1568 the Chatillons and the 
 Prince of Conde escaped almost miraculously an
 
 42 Henry of Navarre. 
 
 [1512 
 
 attempt to seize them in time of peace. A sudden 
 and unexpected flood of the Loire saved from their 
 pursuers the httle band of women and children who 
 escorted by barely 150 men had traversed the breadth 
 of hostile France to gain the sheltering walls of La 
 Rochelle. 
 
 Early in the next year (1569) the Prince and the 
 Admiral were marching towards the upper Loire to 
 effect a junction with the Protestants of Languedoc, 
 when want of discipline brought on an engagement 
 between the vanguard led by Coligny, and the Cath- 
 olic army under the command of the Duke of Anjou. 
 Conde, hearing that the Admiral was attacked by 
 overwhelming numbers, galloped to his assistance at 
 the head of his staff and escort. As he was about to 
 charge, a kick from the horse of his brother-in-law, 
 the Count of La Rochefoucauld, broke his leg. The 
 bone protruded through his jack-boot, but he refused 
 to leave the saddle, and, as he gathered his little 
 troop around him, exclaimed : " Nobles of France, 
 this is the moment we have longed for ; remember in 
 what state Lewis of Bourbon charges for Christ and 
 his country," 
 
 The onslaught of the Prince and his guard broke 
 through the Catholic ranks, but overwhelmed by 
 numbers he was at length borne from his horse^ He 
 was unable to rise and had surrendered to a gentle- 
 man whom he knew, when the Captain of the Guards 
 of the Duke of Anjou came up and shot him from 
 behind, by the command of his master, as was gen- 
 erally believed. 
 
 The Battle of Jarnac, so this engagement was called,
 
 1569] The Wars of Religion. 43 
 
 was little more than a skirmish, but the death of 
 Conde was an event of importance. 
 
 So far as the presence of princes in their army was 
 an answer to those who affected to despise the 
 Huguenots, they did not suffer by Condi's death, for 
 no sooner had the news reached the Queen of Navarre 
 than she hurried to the camp at Cognac with her son 
 and his cousin, the heir of the murdered Prince. 
 
 In the presence of the army, the young Prince of 
 B^arn, Henry of Bourbon, swore '* on his honour, soul 
 and life " never to abandon the cause, and was hailed 
 as their leader by the acclamations of the soldiery. 
 
 The Queen herself solemnly put on her son's 
 armour. The joy of maintaining so just a cause 
 raised him, she said, above his age, and her above her 
 sex. 
 
 But, although accompanied by the two young 
 Princes, whom the Catholics mockingly called his 
 pages, Coligny had henceforward the undivided com- 
 mand of the Huguenot army as well as the principal 
 voice in determining the policy of his party.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PARENTAGE OF HENRY OF BOURBON — HIS 
 EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE — ST. BARTHOL- 
 OMEW — THE PEACE OF MONSIEUR. 
 
 1555— 1576. 
 
 T the beginning of the i6th century the 
 three branches into which the House 
 of Bourbon, descended from Robert 
 of Clermont, sixth son of St. Lewis, 
 had divided, were represented re- 
 spectively by Peter, Duke of Bour- 
 bon, husband of Anne of France, the daughter of 
 Lewis XL, Charles, Count of Montpensier and Charles, 
 Count of Vendome. The only child of the Duke of 
 Bourbon became the wife of her cousin Montpensier, 
 who with her hand obtained the duchy, but fell child- 
 less, a traitor and an exile, leading the army of 
 Charles V. to the sack of Rome. By his death Ven- 
 dome became the head of his family and heir to the 
 French throne, should the male lineage of the House 
 of Valois fail. His son Antony of Bourbon was 
 brave and good-natured, showing flashes of gener- 
 osity and enthusiasm, but unstable and licentious, 
 easily influenced by those around him, as dangerous 
 
 44
 
 Parentage of Henry of Bourbon. 45 
 
 and as little to be trusted, said Calvin, as if his fits of 
 zeal had been the calculated hypocrisy of a traitor. 
 Such as he was he obtained the hand of the greatest 
 heiress in France, Jane d'Albret, the daughter of 
 Henry d'Albret, King of Navarre, and Margaret of 
 Angouleme, the sister of Francis I. 
 
 The saying of Napoleon, that Africa begins at the 
 Pyrenees, can scarcely fail to occur to the traveller 
 who climbs to the Port de Venasque, or to any other 
 of the high passes, which are little more than notches 
 cut into a continuous wall of mountains, and turns 
 from the green valleys and chestnut-clad slopes of 
 France to the stony mountain ridges which rise on 
 the Spanish side, one behind the other, till they 
 gradually sink into what appears an arid table-land. 
 Here at any rate he must believe Nature herself has 
 set the limits of two nations; yet during the Middle 
 Ages the Pyrenees separated nothing. On the east 
 the counts of Barcelona, afterwards Kings of Aragon, 
 were the lords of wide domains in Languedoc and 
 Provence, which before the i6th century had shrunk 
 to the county of Roussillon. On the west the Kings 
 of Navarre owing fealty to the French Crown for 
 other possessions, ruled from the Ebro to the Adour 
 as sovereign Princes over a territory inhabited by a 
 population mainly Basque in origin. 
 
 The marriage of Jane of Navarre with Philip the 
 Fair, in 1285, united for a time the kingdom of Na- 
 varre to France. In 1 328 her granddaughter, excluded 
 by the Salic law from the French throne, inherited 
 Navarre, which passed by marriage successively to 
 the House of Evreux, Foix and Albret.
 
 46 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 In 1 5 12 Ferdinand of Spain conquered all Navarre 
 south of the Pyrenees, on the pretext that John 
 d'Albret, King of Navarre by right of his wife 
 Catherine de Foix, had refused a passage through his 
 dominions to the Spanish troops, and had concluded 
 a treaty with Lewis XII. 
 
 The kingdom of Navarre was henceforth reduced 
 to a few square leagues of territory on the French side 
 of the Pyrenees ; but its ruler w^as still a sovereign 
 monarch, who paid homage neither to France nor 
 Spain, while Beam and the other fiefs of the houses 
 of Foix and Albret supplied the means for keeping 
 up some show of kingly state. It did not therefore 
 seem a wholly disproportionate match when in 1527 
 Francis I. allowed his sister Margaret to marry Henry 
 d'Albret, the son of John d'Albret and Catherine of 
 Foix. The county of Armagnac, given to her in 
 perpetuity as part of her dower, very conven- 
 iently rounded off the possessions of the Kings of 
 Navarre. 
 
 Margaret, lively and high-spirited, eagerly inter- 
 ested both in this world and the next, had before 
 been ill matched with the dull and lethargic Duke 
 of Alengon, to whose cowardice at Pavia the defeat 
 of the French and the capture of their King, her 
 hero and her idol, had been ascribed. Her fancy 
 probably fixed on Henry of Albret because he 
 possessed those brilliant qualities in which her late 
 husband had been wanting. He had fought with 
 the same valour as Francis, he had shared his cap- 
 tivity till he made his escape under romantic v.ircum- 
 stances, he was chivalrous — as chivalry was then
 
 15761 Parentage of Henry of Bourbon. 47 
 
 understood — ready-witted and justly popular among 
 his subjects. 
 
 The King of Navarre was twelve years younger 
 than his bride, but it was not disparity in years only 
 which made the second marriage of Margaret as 
 little happy as the first. It was more bitter to be 
 the victim of misplaced love than of a match imposed 
 by political necessity. Henry of Albret, who had 
 neither elevation of character nor fixity of purpose, a 
 libertine in an age when what would now be licence 
 was accounted sober and godly living, was not likely 
 to be faithful to a plain and elderly wife, or even con- 
 siderate in the manner of his infidelity. There may 
 possibly have been faults on both sides. The Queen 
 was an author, a theologian and a poetess ; in short, 
 a most superior woman, accustomed to the homage 
 and flattery of courtiers, scholars and divines. 
 " Madame, you would know too much," her hus- 
 band is said to have exclaimed with an irritation 
 perhaps pardonable, had it not been emphasised with 
 a box on the Queen's ears. Nor could Margaret's 
 blind devotion to her selfish brother, however amia- 
 ble a weakness, have been other than an additional 
 element of discomfort in her married life. 
 
 Henry of Albret would have been well pleased that 
 his only child Jane should'have married Philip of Spain; 
 and since the match would have given the Spanish 
 house a sure title to Navarre and a firm footing on the 
 French side of the Pyrenees it might not have been 
 displeasing to Charles V. But the mere suggestion 
 of such an arrangement was alarming to Francis I., 
 and his sister would not entertain the thought of any
 
 48 Henry of Navarre. ti555- 
 
 opposition to the King's wish ; she would sooner, 
 she said, see her daughter dead than do him a 
 disservice. 
 
 After the accession of Henry II. (1547) Jane, now 
 a handsome brunette of seventeen, was among the 
 gayest of his Court, and the King, haunted Hke his 
 father by the fear that Spain might with her hand 
 obtain the northern slope of the Pyrenees, was well 
 pleased to see her encourage the addresses of Antony 
 of Bourbon, a suitor but little approved by her 
 parents. Their opposition yielded to the royal 
 will, and the marriage took place at Moulins on 
 October 20, 1548. 
 
 Henry of Bourbon was the last of three sons born 
 to Jane of Albret and her husband. His little 
 brothers died in their first infancy. The eldest was 
 entrusted to the care of a chilly old lady who so 
 carried into practice her maxim that it was better to 
 sweat than to shiver, that no breath of air was ever 
 allowed to reach the hot and stifling rooms where 
 the unfortunate baby was slowly suffocated in his 
 swaddling clothes. The next child was dropped by 
 his nurse and a gentleman who were amusing him, or 
 themselves, by tossing him in and out of a window. 
 His hurt might have been cured had it not been con- 
 cealed by the terrified culprits. 
 
 The King of Navarre, anxious for an heir, de- 
 clared that, since his daughter so little understood 
 how to look after her children, the next baby must 
 be born in Beam, and that he himself would see that 
 it was properly brought up. Accordingly, although 
 it was winter, Jane hurried in a fortnight from
 
 j576] Edtication of Heiity of Bourbo7i. 49 
 
 Picardy to Pau where, ten days later, Henry of 
 Bourbon came into the world during the night of 
 December 13, 1555. : 
 
 Jane and her husband had seen with some anxiety 
 the influence gained by his mistresses over the King 
 of Navarre ; they feared that his will might not 
 be satisfactory. The Princess hinted to her father 
 that she would like to see it. He replied : " You 
 shall have it to keep, if you will give mc in exchange 
 a lusty grandson, and sing when he first sees the 
 light, for I want no whimpering, puling baby ! " 
 It has often been told how the bargain was kept. 
 How the King brought to his daughter's room his 
 will in a golden casket, and received in exchange the 
 new-born infant which he wrapped in a fold of his 
 dressing-gown, delighted to see it joyously nod its 
 head and suck its lips when they were rubbed 
 with a clove of garlic and moistened with a drop of 
 Gascon wine. It was perhaps this precocious indul- 
 gence which gave the infant a distaste for its natural 
 food. Nurse after nurse was tried, and it was with 
 the eighth that the little Henry was sent to a castle 
 in the mountains of Beam, where the air was keenest 
 and most bracing, to be brought up according to the 
 directions of his grandfather, under the care of 
 Madame de Miossans, a connection of the Bour- 
 bons. 
 
 Historians tell us how the King of Navarre insisted 
 that the child should run about barefoot, join in 
 the rough sports of the village lads, and live on 
 the national porridge. Since, however, Henry of 
 Albret ^died when his grandson was only two years
 
 50 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 old,we may surmise that this hardening process was 
 scarcely begun during his hfctime. 
 
 On the old King's death, his daughter and her hus- 
 band hurried to take possession of their inheritance, 
 and at once sent for their little son, whom they took 
 with them to the French Court, where their interests 
 required their presence. Henry II. was attracted by 
 the bold prattle of the child and made some pro- 
 posal that he should be affianced to his daughter 
 Marguerite, his senior by six months. The King 
 also offered to have him educated with his own 
 children, but this Jane refused, and returning to 
 B^arn took her son with her. There he remained 
 till the death of Francis II. (1560), and there we may 
 suppose the education began which helped to make 
 Henry of Navarre, in the |)hrase of a Protestant 
 writer, " that iron wedge tempered by God, to cleave 
 the hard knot of our calamities." If it was Henry 
 of Albret who determined that his grandson 
 should be no effeminate weakling, but a true moun- 
 taineer, frugal, active and enduring, the Queen of 
 Navarre must at least have the credit of having carried 
 out her father's intention. Nor was the rod spared. 
 " Whip the Dauphin well," wrote Henry IV., " when- 
 ever he is naughty. I know by my own experience 
 there is nothing in the world so profitable. I was 
 constantly thrashed when of his age." Graver 
 studies were not neglected. His first tutor was 
 one La Gaucherie, a man of learning who, like the 
 great majority of scholars, had adopted the opinions 
 of the Reformers. He was probably chosen by 
 Antony of Bourbon, at whose invitation " the Ven-
 
 1576] Education of Henry of Bourbon. 5 1 
 
 erable Company of the pastors of Geneva " had sent 
 Theodore Beza (de Beze) to Nefac, to instruct the 
 royal family in the doctrine of Calvin (July, 1556), 
 The convictions of Antony were fleeting and super- 
 ficial, the deeper nature of his wife was less easily 
 stirred. " In your family," wrote a correspondent of 
 her daughter, " by some reversal of the Salic law, 
 constancy is the exclusive heritage of the women." 
 Jane was slow to embrace the faith in defence of 
 which she afterwards hazarded her possessions, her 
 children and her life. Beza wrote that the King of 
 Navarre showed great devotion. Every one be- 
 lieved that he thought of nothing but the means 
 whereby Christ's Kingdom might be advanced, while 
 the Queen his wife was very cold, fearing to give the 
 Spanish or French King a pretext for seizing her 
 dominions, and unwilling to sacrifice the pleasures of 
 this world. 
 
 . It was not till 1560 that Jane abjured the errors of 
 Rome. " Hearing the news of the imprisonment of 
 the Prince of Conde and of the plots formed against 
 her husband, as well as that the Spaniards were pre- 
 paring to seize by surprise her principality of B^arn 
 and what she still retained of Navarre, the Queen, 
 seeing that her trust in man availed nothing, and 
 touched to the quick by the love of God, had re- 
 course to Him as to her only refuge." No doubt 
 she saw the answer to her prayers in the death of 
 Francis II. and the release of her brother-in-law and 
 husband. 
 
 La Gaucherie, like a more celebrated educator of 
 the time, Beroalde, taught the dead languages orally,
 
 52 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 a method by which surprising results appear some- 
 times to have been obtained. Henry learnt Latin 
 sufficiently well for practical purposes ; of Greek he 
 seems only to have known a few tags, w'hich his tutor 
 made him learn by rote, parrot-fashion.,^ He was 
 probably not a very apt or patient pupil. His 
 wonderful physical activity, or rather abnormal rest- 
 lessness, must have made all sedentary study difficult 
 and unprofitable. In later years, when after a long 
 day's hunting his w^eary attendants could scarcely 
 stand, he could not rest, but must move about or 
 dance ; even when he was past middle life his sub- 
 jects wondered how a Prince so constantly in the 
 saddle or at the tennis court had time for affairs of 
 state. No wonder that a man who was movement 
 incarnate could scarce find leisure or patience to read 
 a book.> 
 
 .._' All Henry's childhood was not spent in the brac- 
 ing air of the Pyrenees and in the healthy moral 
 atmosphere of the more and more Puritan Court of 
 Nerac or Pau. After the death of Francis H. the 
 Queen of Navarre, bringing her children with her, 
 joined her husband at the French Court. We have 
 already seen how Antony of Bourbon allowed him- 
 self to be outwitted by the Queen-Mother and 
 befooled by the Guises and Spain. Jane, indignant 
 at the weak inconstancy of her husband, retired to 
 her hereditary dominions. Antony kept his son 
 with him, but neither dismissed his Protestant tutor 
 La Gaucherie, nor even seriously insisted upon his 
 attending !Mass. Probably the recent orthodoxy of 
 the King of Navarre had no other root than his am-
 
 15761 Education of Henry of Bourbon. 53 
 
 bition. Such religious convictions as he ma}- have 
 possessed remained unchanged. The heretical edu- 
 cation of the Prince of Beam was however supple- 
 mented by such instruction as a boy of nine could 
 obtain at the College of Navarre,* where in a desul- 
 tory fashion he attended lectures with two other 
 young Princes, his name-sakes, Henry of Valois and 
 Henry of Guise. 
 
 After Antony of Bourbon had fallen before Rouen 
 and Cond6 had been taken prisoner at Dreux (De- 
 cember, 1562), the Queen-Mother, fearing nothing so 
 much as the growing power of the Guises, was 
 anxious to conciliate the Huguenots. She therefore 
 allowed Jane of Navarre to send for her son. But it 
 seemed very important to Catherine and her council 
 to keep under their control and influence a boy who 
 was the head of the House of Bourbon, the heir to 
 vast possessions and who would be a hostage for the 
 good behaviour of his mother, for she more and more 
 identified her interests with those of the Huguenot 
 party. He was therefore urgently invited to return 
 to Court in the name of Charles IX., w^ho had now 
 attained his nominal majority.) 
 
 _,The Queen of Navarre did not think it expedient 
 to disregard the King's wish. She had been excom- 
 municated by the Pope, and a conspiracy had been 
 formed to betray her into the power of Philip H., 
 who, so it was reported, hoped to merit the special 
 
 * The College of Navarre, one of the oldest colleges attached to the 
 University of Paris, founded in 1304 by Jane of Navarre, wife of 
 Philip the Fair, had at all times been especially distinguished by 
 royal favour.
 
 54 Henry of Navarre. ti555- 
 
 favour and indulgence of heaven by an aiito-da-fif, of 
 which a queen should be the victim, while he trusted 
 to secure the possession of her dominions by the 
 eternal captivity of her children. The French Gov- 
 ernment had interfered eneri^etically on her behalf 
 at Rome and she might need the same help against 
 Spain. She therefore sent her son once more to a 
 court where he would be beyond her care and ex- 
 posed to influences which she could not but dread. \ 
 The Prince of Beam accompanied Charles IX. and 
 the Queen-Mother during a long progress through 
 the kingdom (March, 1564, to December, 1565). It 
 is probable that in this wandering court the book- 
 learning of Henry made no great progress, although 
 he is said under the supervision of La Gaucherie to 
 have completed a translation of the Commentaries 
 of Caesar. But he must have learnt much far more 
 useful to a future ruler of men than Greek and Latin 
 syntax, perhaps also much that had better been un- 
 learnt. For the sharp-eyed, quick-witt,ed and ready- 
 tongued boy of twelve, who appeared^ says an eye- 
 witness, several years older than his age,^ and whom 
 Catherine liked to have about her, for the sake of 
 his bold and lively sallies, must have seen through 
 the thin veil of decorum spread over a court, the 
 ladies of Avhich were allowed at their will to be " vo- 
 taresses of Dian or of Venus," provided that their 
 intrigues were serviceable, or at least no hindrance, 
 to the policy of their mistress, 
 
 v^ But though the knowledge of manners acquired 
 among the courtiers of the Florentine must have 
 been singularly unedifying, a progress through France
 
 1576] Educatioti of Henry of Bourbon. 55 
 
 which lasted nearly two years, must have taught the 
 young Prince better than the care of any tutor to 
 know the provinces, the cities and the men by whose 
 side and against whom he was destined to fight and 
 whom he was afterwards to reunite under his sceptre.3 
 
 In the course of this progress the Court visited 
 the Queen of Navarre at Nerac, but it was not till 
 Jane had returned this visit in the following year and 
 had again entertained the King and his mother in 
 her Picard county of Marie, that she was allowed to 
 take her son back with her to Beam. She seems to 
 have been satisfied that by the care of his tutor her 
 boy had escaped the contagion of the Court ; for 
 (December, 1566) she wrote to Beza that it was to La 
 Gaucherie that Henry owed " that root of piety, 
 which by God's grace has now been so implanted 
 in his heart by godly precepts, that it already puts 
 forth both branch and fruit." I 
 
 .Henry, now thirteen, had during the latter half of 
 his short life spent most of his time at Court, and, ex- 
 cept so far as his studies were directed by his Calvinist 
 tutor, had shared the education of the Valois Princes ; 
 but for the next two years he was trained physically, 
 intellectually and morally under the eye of his 
 mother. The hardy education of his childhood was 
 resumed. He was taught to live a frugal and active 
 life, to endure fatigue and privation, to excel not 
 only in riding, fencing and tennis, the universal ac- 
 complishments of a gentleman, but also to run and 
 wrestle and to climb the rocks barefoot in pursuit of 
 chamois and bear. La Gaucherie was succeeded in 
 the office of tutor by a more eminent scholar, Flo-
 
 56 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 rent Chrestien, the pupil of Henry Stephens, the 
 friend of De Thou, a man whose friendship was 
 sought and valued even by Ronsard and Pibrac, 
 whom he had engaged in theological controversy. 
 The Prince of Beam's scholarship apparently im- 
 proved under Chrestien's tuition and he became in 
 Scaliger's opinion no bad judge of Latin style, yet it 
 is probable that classical studies were not much in- 
 sisted on, since the Queen thought it more important 
 that he should know the history of his own and other 
 countries and the languages of Italy and Spain. 
 Chrestien afterwards accompanied his pupil to the 
 camp of the Huguenot army and showed himself as 
 capable of using a sword as a pen in the defence of 
 his religion, no doubt to the advantage of his influ- 
 ence over the Prince. 
 
 Michelet fancifully speculates how far Henry of 
 Bourbon's versatility and many-sidedness of character 
 may have been due to the rapid succession of wet- 
 nurses during his infancy. We might more plausibly 
 seek to explain it on the principle of "heredity," 
 and point out that he was the descendant of the 
 Foix, the Graillis and the Albrets, half princes, half 
 adventurers, who pushed their fortunes by love and 
 war, amid the quarrels of more powerful neighbours: 
 that he was the grandson, of the mystical and 
 romantic yet alert and cheerful Margaret of Angou- 
 leme and of the popularity-loving, affable and jovial 
 but licentious and superficial Henry of Albret ; the 
 son of the determined, passionate and religious 
 Queen of Navarre and of the weak and inconstant 
 though physically brave Antony of Bourbon. But
 
 1576] Education of Henry of Bourbon. 57 
 
 it is perhaps more profitable to bear in mind how 
 various were the influences to which the boyhood 
 of Henry was exposed. How useful an education, 
 though dangerous to any strength or depth of moral 
 and religious conviction, it was, that the Prince who 
 was destined to reunite the jarring factions and sects 
 of France, should have been from his earliest youth 
 equally at home in the Tuileries or the Louvre, 
 among the motley crowd of Italian adventurers, in- 
 triguing priests, dissolute gallants, ambitious nobles 
 and unscrupulous statesmen, in the little court of 
 Nerac and Pau, the asylum and stronghold of French 
 Protestantism, in the farms and cottages of the 
 Gascon peasantry and in the camps of the Huguenot 
 veterans. 
 
 After the battle of Jarnac, Coligny, who had been 
 joined by a powerful body of German auxiliaries, 
 was compelled by the impatience of his followers to 
 besiege Poitiers and afterwards, at Montcontour, to 
 engage with inferior forces the army of the Duke of 
 Anjou. Their superior numbers and a field of battle 
 well suited to the manoeuvres of heavy cavalry gave 
 the Papists a victory loudly celebrated throughout 
 Catholic Europe. Yet the results of the victory 
 were unimportant. 
 
 Charles IX., jealous of his brother's glory, joined 
 the army, and sat down before St. Jean d'Angely, 
 wasting three months and the lives of 6,000 men. 
 The Admiral, accompanied by the young princes of 
 Beam and Cond6, after throwing strong garrisons 
 into the Protestant towns of Poitou, led the remains 
 of his cavalry into the South, where he was joined 
 
 V
 
 58 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 by numerous partisans and soon found himself once 
 more at the head of a formidable force. 
 
 It was clear that without the help of Spain the 
 Huguenots could not be crushed; but Philip II. was 
 fully occupied by a war with the Turks and with the 
 revolted Moors. He moreover expected as the price of 
 his assistance that the interests and policy of France, 
 if not her independence, should be subordinated to 
 Spanish ambition! If war and persecution implied 
 submission to Spain all Frenchmen, whose love of 
 their country was not extinguished by fanaticism, 
 were necessarily disposed to peace and toleration. 
 Catherine de' Medici, who cared little for the sup- 
 pression of heresy, thought that too high a price 
 might easily be paid for an object itself of doubtful 
 advantage. It was true that her favourite Anjou 
 was for the moment the Catholic hero, his fresh 
 laurels overshadowed the old glories of the House of 
 Guise, yet at some future time Coligny and his fol- 
 lowers, who seemed less formidable since their defeat 
 and the death of Cond^, might be needed as a 
 counterpoise to the faction of Lorraine. 
 
 The unsuccessful siege of St. Jean d'Angely had 
 disgusted the King with a war which exhausted his 
 resources, interfered with his amusements and min- 
 istered only to the aggrandisement of a brother 
 whom he detested. The country generally Avas 
 weary of a painful and indecisive struggle. The 
 Protestants were anxious to return to their homes 
 and were exhausted by the sacrifices required to 
 maintain so unequal a contest. To none was the 
 civil war more hateful than to the Admiral himself.
 
 1576] Education of Henry of Bourbon, 59 
 
 His loyalty to the King as a French noble and great 
 officer of his Crown, his patriotism, his inborn love 
 of order, his feelings as a Christian were alike pained 
 by a war against his King, in which Frenchmen 
 destroyed Frenchmen to the profit of their common 
 enemies, which ruined the social order of the coun- 
 try, demoralised his own adherents and was waged 
 on bath sides with countless circumstances of horror 
 and atrocity. 
 
 In order that the growing inclination of the Court 
 to peace might be confirmed, and to secure more 
 favourable terms, he determined on a movement of 
 ably calculated audacity. Accompanied by the 
 young Bourbon Princes and a small army of veteran 
 cavalry he left Languedoc and moved rapidly on 
 Paris. Acceptable terms were at once offered by 
 Catherine and the King. Greater freedom of worship 
 than had been allowed by previous edicts ; the 
 members of the so-called " Reformed " Church to be 
 in every respect on a footing of equality with the 
 Catholics and equally eligible to all civil and military 
 offices ; an amnesty for all that had happened dur- 
 ing the war. Finally, as a pledge of the sincerity of 
 the Court, four important fortresses were to be placed 
 in the hands of the Huguenot leaders for three years : 
 Montauban in Languedoc, La Charity commanding 
 the Loire, Cognac in Poitou, and La Rochelle on 
 the ocean. It was in vain that Pius V. andPhilip II. 
 protested with loud outcries against so iniquitous a 
 peaice with the enemies of God and man ; the terms 
 were joyfully accepted by the Protestants and rati- 
 fied at St. Germains by the King (August 8, 1570).
 
 6o Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 So far from being crushed the Protestants after 
 eight years of civil war had obtained terms which 
 the.y would have welcomed at the outset. It is true 
 that the same concessions would have meant more 
 had they been granted earlier. The war had shown 
 that the Huguenots were too strong a minority to 
 be subdued by force, but it had also made it impos- 
 sible for that minority to become a majority. The 
 numbers of the sectaries had been greatly reduced, 
 less by losses in the field than by massacres in the 
 towns. 
 
 According to some historians 10,000 had so per- 
 ished in one year alone (1568). These victims for 
 the most part belonged to the middle classes, to the 
 better sort of townspeople. Many others had been 
 compelled to fly the country. In war, as was natural, 
 the nobles and soldiers became more and more in- 
 fluential ; but the great majority of these had little 
 sympathy with the strict morality and discipline of 
 Calvinism. Even at La Rochelle, where the ministers 
 exercised an authority almost as absolute as at Geneva, 
 a spirit of lawlessness had been fostered by the 
 adventures and more than half piratical enterprises 
 of the citizens. 
 
 The Italian admirers of the Machiavellian state- 
 craft of Catherine de' Medici, and the Protestants to 
 whom she appeared a monster of dissimulation, rep- 
 resent the treaty of St. Germains as the first of a 
 series of measures devised to lure the Huguenots to 
 destruction. Such was not the opinion of the best 
 informed contemporaries. 
 
 VValsingham, the English ambassador, assured
 
 ADMIRAL COLIQNY.
 
 1576] Education of Henry of Bourbon. 6i 
 
 Queen Elizabeth that the peace would last. The 
 King had always been averse to the civil war, the 
 Guises were in disgrace, the favour of the Montmo- 
 rencys and of the " Politicians " constantly growing. 
 Petrucci, the Florentine envoy, wrote that the King 
 was determined at all costs to avoid future conflicts 
 with the Huguenots. Alava, the Spanish ambassa- 
 dor, told Philip 11. that Catherine was the source of 
 all evil, although with her usual oaths and tears she 
 had sworn that her son no longer listened to her 
 advice. 
 
 The Queen-Mother, who had been seeking an es- 
 tablishment for her third daughter Margaret, believed 
 that she had reason to complain of Philip II. After 
 the death of his wife Elizabeth the King in reply to 
 a proposal that he should marry her sister suggest- 
 ed that his nephew Sebastian of Portugal would be 
 a more suitable match for the young lady. Long 
 negotiations followed. It was believed that the 
 young King of Portugal, who had romantic visions 
 of combining the saint and the hero, did not wish to 
 marry at all ; he certainly showed no eagerness to 
 marry Margaret of Valois. Catherine thought that 
 Philip II. had not seriously attempted to overcome 
 his nephew's reluctance, and in her irritation lent a 
 ready ear to those who suggested that though little 
 remained of the independent kingdom of Navarre, 
 yet the head of the House of Bourbon, the heir of 
 domains which extended from the Pyrenees to far 
 beyond the Garonne, of the principalit)' of Beam, 
 of the duchies of Vendome, Beaumont and Albret, 
 of the counties of Bigorre, Armagnac, Rouergue,
 
 62 Henry of Navarre. 11555- 
 
 Perigord and Marie, of the viscounties of Marsac 
 and Limoges and of numerous other lordships, the 
 acknowledged leader of a great and martial faction, 
 was no unequal match for the third daughter even 
 of a King of France. 
 
 After the conclusion of peace Henry had been 
 sent back to Beam, while his mother and the Prot- 
 estant leaders remained at La Rochelle ; refusing to 
 separate or to visit the Court till the provisions of the 
 edict had been fully carried out. Towards the end 
 of 1570 Marshal de Cosse, a prominent member of 
 the moderate party was sent to assure the Queen of 
 Navarre that the Government was determined to ful- 
 fil its engagements, and at the same time to let it be 
 known that Charles IX. would gladly see Henry of 
 Bourbon a suitor for the hand of his sister. Early 
 in the next year (1571) riotous mobs robbed and 
 massacred the Protestants of Orange and Rouen. 
 The exemplary punishment of these excesses, and 
 the permission to hold a national synod of the Re- 
 formed churches at La Rochelle, went far to convince 
 the Huguenots of the good faith of the Court; a 
 conviction which was strengthened by the eagerness 
 with which the King pressed on the negotiations 
 for the marriage of his brother to Queen Elizabeth, 
 and the favourable reception given to Count Lewis 
 of Nassau. 
 
 The King and the Queen-Mother repeatedly in- 
 vited Coligny to Court. His cousin Montmorency 
 urged him to grasp so favourable an opportunity of 
 overthrowing the influence of the Guises. 
 
 The well-known story of Coligny's reception at
 
 15761 Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 63 
 
 Blois, how the King embraced him again and again, 
 exclaiming " Now we have you we shall not again 
 let you go," rests on no good evidence. Charles 
 received the Admiral well, but with no excess of 
 cordiality, while the Queen-Mother and Anjou had 
 taken to their beds the day of his arrival : they were 
 really ill, but the circumstances were so suspicious, 
 that Coligny alarmed by the coolness of his recep- 
 tion was on the point of leaving Blois. Soon, how- 
 ever, he received abundant proof of royal favour and 
 affection. His advice constantly prevailed in the 
 King's council, where his supporters now formed the 
 majority. The royal council was a large body. 
 Some members were summoned by letters patent, 
 while Princes of the Blood, dukes and peers, the 
 great of^cers of the Crown and knights of the King's 
 orders appear to have had a right to sit ex-officio. 
 But of these privileged persons only a small number 
 attended, or were expected to attend, and a change 
 in policy was often marked by one set of members 
 absenting themselves, their place being taken by 
 others who had preyiously stayed away. Now the 
 Guises and their most devoted adherents were no 
 longer seen in the council-chamber — there was as it 
 were a change of ministry favourable to the Hugue- 
 nots and the Politicians. 
 
 'Meantime (winter of 1571-1572) the negotiations 
 for the marriage of Henry of Navarre and Margaret 
 of Valois continued. Coligny, now persuaded that 
 the King was sincere, urged Queen Jane to bring her 
 son to Court, to see the young lady and to conduct 
 the treaty in person.
 
 64 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 The Queen of Navarre was full of misgivings. She 
 trembled for her son's religion, for his morals ; she 
 could not trust the Florentine and the King whose 
 bible was Machiavelli. Her ministers by their contra- 
 dictory advice distracted her still further ; but finally, 
 leaving the Prince at Pau, she accepted the King's 
 invitation.^ The Court was at Blois, and there also 
 was a papal legate who had been sent to protest 
 against so impious a marriage and to offer once more 
 the hand of the King of Portugal or of an Austrian 
 Prince to Madame Marguerite. But the victory of 
 Lepanto (October 7, 1571) had only increased the 
 King's jealousy and dislike of Spain. All his 
 thoughts, he wrote to his ambassador at Constanti- 
 nople, were directed to the one object of humbling 
 the power of Philip II.; he was determined to main- 
 tain peace in his kingdom and to marry his sister to 
 the Prince of Beam ; in no other way could he avenge 
 himself on his enemies. The legate departed, in 
 dignantly refusing the customary gift of plate. 
 I Charles IX. received his " best beloved aunt " with 
 effusive affection. The first interview with Catherine 
 was satisfactory and the Queen of Navarre a$ she 
 left the room said joyfully " the marriage is settled.' 
 But the negotiations did not proceed so smoothly 
 as their beginning promised.} Queen Jane dreaded 
 the effect on her son of the corruption she saw 
 around her, she had believed it to be great, but she 
 found it to be greater than she could have con- 
 ceived. If he were there, she said, nothing short of 
 the signal grace of God could save him. 
 I With prophetic eagerness she begs him to be on
 
 1576] Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 65 
 
 his guard against the attempts that will be made to 
 debauch him in his life and his religion\ " It is their 
 object ; they do not affect to conceal it." They wish, 
 she said to Walsingham, to keep the Prince at Court 
 to turn him into an atheist. If this happened, what 
 greater calamity could befall him or the Cause ? 
 
 , Catherine accepted the marriage because she 
 trusted to keep her future son-in-law at Court. She 
 hoped that her band of lively maids of honour, her 
 masques and ballets, would prove more attractive 
 than the rough Calvinist soldiers, the tedious theo- 
 logians, the prayers and improving discourses at 
 Nerac and Pau. If Henry were converted, the 
 Protestants lost the support of the first Prince of the 
 Blood, and of the most powerful vassal of the French 
 Crown; if he remained a Huguenot, his rank secured 
 to him the first place among the sectaries and he 
 might be the means of perplexing their councils and 
 embarrassing the Admiral. Either alternative filled 
 the Queen of Navarre with apprehension. " Pray, " 
 she writes to her son, " that this marriage may not be 
 made in God's anger for our punishment." Her 
 letters are full of nervous irritation ; she finds it 
 impossible to speak to the King or his sister ; she 
 only sees their mother, who treats her with insolent 
 duplicity. " She behaves in such wise, laughing in 
 my face, that you may say my patience surpasses 
 Griselda's ; though I burst, I am determined not to 
 lose my temper. I cannot say I lack advice ; ever)' 
 one has advice to give me and all different. It is a 
 marvel I can endure the annoyances I suffer. I am 
 dared, insulted and worried. They even make holes
 
 66 Henry of Navarre. ' [1555- 
 
 in the walls of my room to spy upon me." The 
 poor woman, naturally self-willed and irritable, was 
 all the while suffering from the disease which ended 
 her life a few months later. No wonder that the 
 Florentine envoy thought that her temper was 
 uneven and that she was full of whims and fancies. 
 
 In her more hopeful mood she describes Margaret 
 as good-looking though somewhat stout and too 
 tightly laced, and so much painted that it was dif- 
 ficult to see what her face really was, sensible and 
 pleasant-mannered and with great influence over her 
 mother and brothers. At the same time she gives 
 Henry some hints about his behaviour as a suitor. 
 " Do not be afraid of speaking out, for remember 
 that the impression you make at your first coming 
 will determine the esteem in which you will be held. 
 Wear your hair more raised, not in the style of 
 Nerac, but with large locks ; I should recommend 
 the last fashion as the one I prefer." 
 
 When more despondent, she remembers that the 
 young Princess has been educated in the most cor- 
 rupt and abominable society, where the women woo 
 the men. She certainly was clever, but that was 
 only another cause for anxiety ; if she remained 
 Catholic her prudence and judgment were but addi- 
 tional dangers. Was Henry wiser or more expe- 
 rienced than Solomon, who was misled by his 
 Egyptian wife ? 
 
 We must allow that Jane showed some insight 
 into the character of her future daughter-in-law, 
 though it is probable that the Princess Margaret, 
 whom she saw shrinking behind her mother, was not
 
 1576] Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 67 
 
 more like the Queen of Navarre of later years, in 
 character, than the graceful and lively bright-haired 
 girl, with eyes only too expressive, was like the 
 painted and beruddled woman whose exuberant bulk 
 was made disgusting and ridiculous by vast farthin- 
 gales, hung round with pockets containing, it was 
 reported, the embalmed hearts of dead lovers, by 
 tightly laced but too scanty bodices stiffened with 
 steel, and large frizzed wigs shorn from the heads of 
 her flock of flaxen-haired footmen. 
 
 Margaret of Valois was a clever, even a talented 
 woman. Though her letters would not, as Brantome 
 pretends, have excited the envious despair of Cicero, 
 they are as free from the determination to have a 
 style, the affectation which disfigures so much of the 
 prose of the i6th century, as the letters of Henry IV. 
 himself, and they show a more cultivated literary 
 sense. Even higher praise might be given to the 
 " memoirs," which she wrote with taste and tact to 
 prove herself the victim of circumstances and of the 
 cruel malignity of her brother Henry HI. Henry IV. 
 could never read to the end of a serious book, 
 Margaret became so absorbed in what she read, that, 
 fond as she was of the pleasures of the table, she 
 would forget to eat and drink. In practical matters 
 she had clear insight and could give sound advice, 
 nor was she without some good qualities of the 
 heart as well as of the head. She was a constant 
 friend, though a fickle mistress, kind-hearted and 
 charitable ; and her good-nature was of a better 
 quality than that of her mother or her husband, 
 since it proceeded neither from insensibility nor
 
 68 Henry of Navarre, [i555~ 
 
 indifference. Her gallantry was scandalous in an 
 age of incredible licence. She indulged her love of 
 eating and drinking till her size became so enormous 
 that she could scarcely squeeze through an ordinary 
 doorway. Her taste for music and painting, her 
 extensive use of perfumes seem to show that all her 
 senses imperiously demanded the satisfaction which 
 they largely received. 
 
 A disposition not averse to vice had received a 
 detestable education, and she disliked the marriage 
 imposed upon her ; it is not therefore surprising that 
 a union which proved both loveless and childless was 
 a curse to bride and bridegroom. The life and 
 character of Henry of Navarre might have been 
 different had he, before his moral sense was blunted 
 by vice, been brought under the influence of a woman 
 he both loved and respected. His subsequent rela- 
 tions with his mistresses showed that his affections, 
 if not his senses, were capable of constancy. 
 
 \The marriage contract was signed on April ii, 
 1572. Charles IX. insisted that the wedding should 
 take place in Paris, in order that he might exhibit to 
 the world in the chief city of his kingdom this proof 
 and pledge of his determined love of civil peace.) 
 
 The ceremony itself had been one of the questions 
 most debated. Jane would not allow her son to 
 countenance by his presence the idolatry of the Mass. 
 It was finally arranged that Henry's uncle the 
 Cardinal of Bourbon should give the nuptial bene- 
 diction at the door of the Cathedral and then lead 
 the pair to the high altar, but that as soon as the 
 celebration of Mass began, the Prince of Beam should.
 
 1576] Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 69 
 
 say to one of the King's brothers, " My lord, I beg 
 you to attend Mass for me," and should then, without 
 leaving the church, retire into one of the side 
 chapels. 
 
 Charles IX. affected to make light of the Pope's 
 refusal to grant a dispensation. If the old gentle- 
 man persisted, he would take Margot by the hand 
 and marry her to his cousin in the Protestant meet- 
 ing-house. 
 
 The Queen of Navarre did not live to see the 
 marriage. She had been unwell when she came to 
 Blois ; perplexities, vexations of every kind had taken 
 away sleep and appetite. All the symptoms of her 
 illness appear to have been natural,^ but her death 
 was generally attributed to the arts of Catherine de' 
 Medici and her Florentine perfumer. 
 1^ Henry of Navarre was in Poitou on his way from 
 Beam when the news of his mother's death reached 
 him. He continued his journey and entered the city 
 in the first week of August, accompanied by his 
 cousin Conde and eight hundred gentlemen dressed 
 in mourning. 
 
 ■ The marriage was celebrated on August 18, 1572. 
 Margaret, accompanied by her mother and brothers, 
 by the great ofificers of the Crown and the principal 
 members of the Court, met the young Prince of 
 Navarre, who was attended by his cousins the 
 Prince of Conde and the Count of Soissons, by the 
 Admiral, the Count of La Rochefoucauld and other 
 Huguenot nobles, upon a great stage covered with 
 cloth of gold, erected before the portal of Notre 
 Dame. The bride, glittering with the Crown jewels,
 
 70 He7iry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 was adorned as a queen, with crown and ermine, the 
 train, four yards long, of her blue mantle carried by- 
 three princesses. The bridegroom and his attend- 
 ants had laid aside their mourning and were dressed 
 in all the gay magnificence which the fashion of the 
 time allowed. 
 
 Henry and his Huguenots walked in the nave of 
 the Cathedral, while the bride heard Mass in the 
 quire. The Admiral noticed hung round the walls 
 the standards he had lost at Montcoutour ; soon, he 
 exclaimed, they should be replaced by more glorious 
 trophies won from the common enemy. 
 
 The Duke of Anjou organised the feasts in 
 honour of his sister's wedding, questionable and ill- 
 omened revels, in which the King, his brothers, the 
 Bourbon princes and the young nobles of both par- 
 ties joined, while the older Protestants, witnessed 
 these scenes of sinister and ill-timed debauchery with 
 invincible repugnance. "As before a storm," says a 
 contemporary," the ocean is seen to heave and mutter, 
 so men's minds appeared to be moved by a prophetic 
 horror and foreboding of the evils so soon to come." 
 The air was heavy with a feeling of disquiet, alarm- 
 ing reports spread on every side, and the pulpits of 
 Paris re-echoed with exhortations to intolerance and 
 bloodshed. 
 
 More serious questions than the marriage of the 
 Princess Margaret had divided the councils of the 
 French King during the past year, questions which 
 involved the whole future policy of France and the 
 fate of the Huguenots.
 
 1576] Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 71 
 
 At no period has the connection between the 
 domestic and foreign poHcy of the states of western 
 Europe been closer than during the sixteenth cen- 
 tury. The Protestants in England, in France, in 
 the Low Countries, in northern Germany, were con- 
 scious that their interests were the same. 
 
 At the beginning of the eighteenth century we 
 find a European league formed to check the pre- 
 ponderance of the House of Bourbon, which, like 
 the power of Philip II. a century and a half earlier, 
 appeared dangerous to the independence of other 
 nations. But resistance to Spain in the name of re- 
 ligious and political liberty meant something very 
 different from resistance to France for the preserva- 
 tion of the balance of power. Spain was at once a 
 domestic and a foreign enemy to the Englishmen 
 who thought like Cecil and Walsingham, to the 
 French Huguenots, to the patriots of the Nether- 
 lands ; and they had more in common with her 
 enemies, though foreigners, than with countrymen, 
 who were her friends. A check to the policy of 
 Philip II. a defeat of his partisans in one country, 
 reacted upon the balance of parties elsewhere, gave 
 confidence to his opponents, and diminished the 
 authority of his allies. Hence to understand the 
 course of French politics it is often necessary to 
 bear in mind contemporary events in England and 
 in the Netherlands. 
 
 The destinies of the three countries were never 
 more closely interwoven than during the time which 
 elapsed between the Peace of St. Germains and the 
 Massacre of St. Bartholomew ; indeed, that trcmen-
 
 72 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 dous catastrophe itself may be said to have been 
 occasioned as much by the vacillation of Elizabeth 
 of England and by the course of events in the 
 Netherlands, as by the jealous and unscrupulous 
 ambition of the Queen-Mother, the party hatred 
 and private vengeance of the Guises and the fanati- 
 cism of the Catholic mob. 
 
 The all-important question for the Low Countries, 
 for France, and for Europe was: could Charles IX. 
 be induced to take part openly in the struggle 
 against Spain ? This was the stake against which 
 Coligny was willing to set his life. With the assist- 
 ance of the Politicians, of soldiers who preferred 
 the honour to be gained in fighting against Spain to 
 the questionable triumphs of civil war, the Admiral 
 hoped to carry through his policy, — if possible with 
 the good will of the Queen-Mother, but if that 
 might not be, then, in spite of her opposition. 
 
 Ii_^s_ mainly ori _ the English rn ar riag g.-^at 
 Colig ny reire3""as~the means of winning the s upp^ort 
 of CatTTerme! Had Elizabeth been able to make up 
 her mind, had the marriage been concluded, a war 
 with Spain would have followed, and it is probable 
 that " Walsingham and Burghley were right in be- 
 lieving that the course of European history would 
 have been different and the power of the Papacy 
 would have been rolled back in one broad wave 
 across the Alps and the Pyrenees." 
 
 But Elizabeth could not make up her mind, and 
 the success of Coligny in establishing his influence 
 over the King became the chief source of his dan- 
 ger. It seemed as if peaceably and by moral means
 
 1576] Marriage of Henry of Bourbon. 73 
 
 he was about to succeed in doing what physical 
 force had failed to effect at Meaux, when the 
 Huguenots had attempted to seize the young King 
 and to remove him from under the control of his 
 mother. Henceforth therefore her opposition to 
 and hatred of the Admiral became desperate and 
 irreconcilable. Her first object now was by fair 
 means or foul to remove an influence fatal to her own. 
 
 In the early summer of 1 572, when Holland and Zea- 
 land were in arms and the Huguenots pouring over 
 the frontiers of Hainault to the assistance of the 
 rebels, peace or war with Spain rfteant the predomi- 
 nance of Catherine or of Coligny. 
 
 The King's hatred of Spain, his jealousy and sus- 
 picion of Anjou, the great personal influence of 
 Coligny, the favour of Teligny, the Admiral's son- 
 in-law, of La Rochefoucauld and other young Hugue- 
 not nobles, the obvious advantage of strengthening 
 the royal authority at home by a successful foreign 
 war were thrown into the scale against the authority, 
 confirmed by long habit, of the Queen-Mother, the 
 advice of councillors who from deference to her, 
 from jealousy of her opponents, or from sincere con- 
 viction pointed out the danger of entering upon so 
 formidable a struggle without any formal offensive 
 and defensive alliance with England, with an empty 
 treasury and a country exhausted by war and divided 
 by faction. For if the war meant, as it did, the pre- 
 dominance of the Protestants and their friends, 
 those zealous Catholics, and they were many, who 
 preferred their religion to their country would be 
 the best allies of Philip H.
 
 74 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 Had the Nassaus and their Huguenot confeder- 
 ates been more successful in the Low Countries it is 
 possible that Coligny might have prevailed. 
 
 More than once it was generally believed that the 
 King had determined to declare war. But at two 
 meetings of the council held on August 6th and 9th, 
 attended by all the officers and ministers of the 
 crown, a large majority pronounced against a breach 
 with Spain. Charles IX. yielded to their representa- 
 tions and to the urgent and private expostulations 
 of his mother, who, says Tavannes in the memoirs 
 of his father, one of her most intimate and trusted 
 advisers, threw herself at the King's feet and burst- 
 ing into tears begged him to allow her to leave the 
 Court, since after all her labours on his behalf he no 
 longer had any confidence in her, and abandoned 
 himself to the councils of his enemies. But even 
 yet her victory was not assured. On August loth 
 Walsingham wrote to Burghley that " though the 
 Admiral cannot obtain what were requisite and 
 necessary for the advancement of the cause, yet doth 
 he obtain somewhat in conference with the King." 
 Charles IX. in a letter of the same date to his am- 
 bassador in England told him that he must exert 
 himself to induce Elizabeth to help Orange. It was 
 evident that the frank acceptance by the Queen of 
 England of the French alliance or any decisive re- 
 verse to the Spanish arms might again turn the scale 
 in favour of war and of Coligny. 
 
 " The Queen," says Tavannes, " considering that 
 not only the fortunes of France, but, what touched 
 her far more nearly, her power and the safety of
 
 1576] SL Bartholomew. 75 
 
 Anjou were at stake, resolved with M. d'Anjou and 
 two other advisers to compass the death of the Ad- 
 miral, believing that the whole Huguenot party was 
 centred in him ; and trusting to remedy all— z. ^., 
 prevent the outbreak of civil war — by the marriage 
 of her daughter to the King of Navarre and by 
 throwing the blame of the murder on the Guises, to 
 the assassination of whose father the Admiral had 
 been privy." 
 
 By making the Guises responsible for her crime, 
 Catherine trusted, it is said, to obtain an even more 
 satisfactory result. She expected that the Hugue- 
 nots would rush to arms and attack the Guises, that 
 the populace of Paris would seek to protect their 
 favourites, the leaders of the faction of Lorraine, 
 and that the Montmorencys and their friends would 
 support the Huguenots ; whichever side prevailed 
 would be exhausted by a bloody and obstinate con- 
 flict and might be fallen upon and annihilated by the 
 King's troop's, as disturbers of the public peace ! 
 
 All the great nobles of France, gathered together 
 in Paris to celebrate the wedding of the King of 
 Navarre, would thus be destroyed and the Queen 
 and the Duke of Anjou left without rivals in the 
 King's council. Moreover, this great end would be 
 attained without incurring the odium of the crime; 
 it would appear to have been the unavoidable result 
 of the violence of faction, and would not commit 
 the Crown to irreconcilable hostility with either the 
 Catholic or Protestant party. 
 
 After the wedding of the King of Navarre, Cath 
 erine and Anjou sent for the young Duke of Guisw
 
 ^6 Henry of Navarre. [1556- 
 
 and his mother to concert measures for the death of 
 the man who, as they pretended and perhaps be- 
 Heved, had encouraged the assassin of Duke Francis, 
 A bravo formerly in the service of Anjou and at 
 that time of the Guises was stationed behind the 
 bhnds of a house which the Admiral used to pass on 
 his way to the Louvre. Three days he lay in wait. 
 But when the opportunity came, although his piece 
 was loaded with three balls he only wounded his 
 victim. Coligny at once sent to inform the King of 
 what had happened ; his messenger found Charles 
 IX. playing tennis with Henry of Guise and 
 Teligny ; turning pale and dashing his racquet to 
 the ground he exclaimed with many oaths, " Are we 
 never to have peace ? " and went to his room " with 
 sad and downcast countenance." 
 
 Soon the King of Navarre, the Prince of Cond^ 
 and a crowd of nobles demanded an audience and 
 the King's permission to leave a town where their 
 lives were in danger. Full, apparently, of grief and 
 anger Charles declared he would take such vengeance 
 as should never be forgotten on those who were 
 guilty of the outrage. Nor could his sincerity be 
 doubted when he ordered the gates of the city to 
 be shut to prevent the escape of the would-be assas- 
 sins, intrusted the inquiry into the crime to an 
 impartially chosen commission, forbade the towns- 
 people to arm or to close their shops, sent a detach- 
 ment of his guards to protect the Admiral, and 
 offered lodgings to the Huguenot gentlemen near 
 Coligny's house, or in the Louvre. 
 
 After dinner Charles came accompanied by his
 
 t576] SL Ba7^tholomew. yy 
 
 Court, his mother and his brothers to visit the Ad- 
 miral, whom he overwhelmed with demonstrations 
 of affection. " My father," he said, " the pain of 
 the wound is yours, but the insult and the wrong are 
 mine," and again he swore with his usual oaths that 
 the guilty should dearly rue their deed. The Queen 
 and Anjou were filled with apprehension and as soon 
 as they had reached the Tuileries sent Gondi, Count 
 of Retz, formerly the King's tutor, and who had still 
 much influence over him, to pacify him. 
 
 On the next morning the Protestant nobles delib- 
 erated whether they should leave Paris, taking with 
 them the Admiral, wounded as he was; but Coligny 
 and the majority were persuaded of the King's good 
 faith ; to fly would be to abandon him to the Guises 
 and to make civil war inevitable. They determined 
 to stay, and Catherine heard that they intended on 
 the next day to present themselves at Court in a 
 body, and to accuse the Duke of Guise of attempt- 
 ing the life of Coligny. It was probable that Henry 
 of Guise would not care to deny his complicity in an 
 act which established his popularity among the mob 
 and the friars, but would excuse himself by saying 
 that he had acted by the authority of the Duke of 
 Anjou, the lieutenant-general of the kingdom. Thus 
 the vengeance of the Protestants and the anger of 
 the King would fall on the Queen-Mother and her 
 favourite son. Catherine felt that she must act, and 
 act at once. Accompanied by Anjou, by Gondi, by 
 Gonzaga, Duke of Nevers, Birago, a Milanese, the 
 unworthy successor of the Chancellor I'Hopital, and 
 Marshal Tavannes, she requested an audience of the
 
 yS Henry of Navarre. [1555 
 
 King. There are three fairly authentic accounts, 
 which agree in the main, of what passed at this inter- 
 view ; nor is it hard to understand how the half mad 
 King, whose nature had been prepared for crime, 
 whose nobler qualities had been perverted or stunted, 
 was harassed and perplexed and driven into the toils 
 by the infernal art of his advisers. No argument 
 was neglected which might overcome his reluctance, 
 not so*much to break his faith, as to sacrifice men 
 for whom he seems to have felt sincere respect or 
 liking. ' 
 
 ■The dangerous ambition of the Huguenots, their 
 turbulence and previous attacks on the royal author- 
 ity, the discontent of the Catholics at the favours 
 shown to the heretics, and their determination if the 
 King did not listen to their complaints to form a 
 Holy League under a captain-general of their own, and 
 save the realm in his spite, — -all this and much more 
 was urged. For an hour and a half Charles resisted, 
 but stung at length by the imputation that he was 
 too timid to act, he leapt up in a frenzy of passion, 
 cursing everybody and everything : " By God's death 
 since you insist that the Admiral must be killed I 
 consent; but with him every Huguenot in France 
 must perish, that not one may remain to reproach 
 me with his death ; and what you do, see that it 
 be done quickly." So speaking, he rushed like a 
 madman from the room'. 
 
 When the King's assent had been obtained, the 
 arrangements for the massacre were soon concerted 
 between the Quean-Mother, Anjou, the Guises and 
 the leaders of the Parisian mob. The signal was to
 
 MEDAL OF CHARLES IX. STRUCK TO COMMEMORATE THE MASSACRE OF 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW. 
 
 MEDAL OF GREGORY XIII. STRUCK TO COMMEMORATE THE MASSAOfit OF 
 ST. BARTHOLOMEW.
 
 1576] Si. Bartholomew. 79 
 
 be given that very night by the bells of the church 
 nearest to the Louvre. 
 
 [ As the fatal moment approached Charles IX. 
 attempted to revoke the permission extorted from 
 him. Even Catherine felt some misgivings, but it 
 was too late. " We went," so the Duke of Anjou 
 during a sleepless night told his physician, " we went 
 to a room in the gate tower of the Louvre, to watch 
 from a window which looked into the yard the 
 beginning of the execution. We had not been there 
 long, and we were considering the consequences of so 
 great an enterprise, when we suddenly heard the 
 report of a pistol. I do not know where the shot 
 was fired, nor whether it hurt any one, but the mere 
 sound struck us with strange terrors and apprehen- 
 sions of the great disorders that were then about to 
 be committed. We suddenly and hastily sent a 
 gentleman to M. de Guise, bidding him retire to his 
 house, and to beware of attempting anything against 
 the Admiral. But our messenger came back, and 
 said that it was too late, and that the Admiral was 
 already dead." 
 
 Guise himself and the Duke of Angoul^me, a 
 bastard of Henry IL, superintended the murder of 
 Coligny. The guards who were sent by the King 
 for his protection were the first to fire upon his 
 retainers. Coligny, hearing the uproar, knew that 
 his last hour was come. He told the great surgeon 
 Ambrose Pare, himself a Protestant, and others 
 who had been watching in his room to escape by the 
 roof ; only one of his attendants, a German, refused 
 to leave him. The murderers burst open the door
 
 8o He7iry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 but they were so abashed by the fearless dignity of 
 their victim, that they stood hesitating on the thres- 
 hold. One only, a foreigner, a Bohemian who was 
 half drunk stepped forward : " Are you the Ad- 
 miral ? " and with an oath felled him to the ground. 
 The others hacked him with their swords. " Have 
 you finished?" shouted the Duke of Guise from the 
 courtyard ; '' throw him out of the window for us to 
 see with our own eyes." Even yet there seemed to 
 be some life in the body, for a moment it clung to 
 the window bars. The features were crushed and 
 scarcely to be distinguished. Angouleme wiped 
 away the blood from the face, and recognising the 
 Admiral, kicked it as he turned away. When Guise 
 in his turn fell by the assassin's sword and his 
 corpse was spurned by the man he had despised and 
 dared, the accomplice of his present crime, it was 
 remembered that he also had struck the dead hero 
 with his foot. 
 
 So perished Admiral Coligny, one of the noblest 
 characters and of the ablest soldiers and statesmen 
 produced by the French Reformation. 
 \ Aristotle describes the man of j)erfect character as 
 slow and deliberate of speech, considerate to his 
 inferiors, but unaccommodating to his equals and 
 haughty to his superiors, little disposed to frequent 
 places where he has to give way to others, more ready 
 to confer than to receive obligations, and with a high 
 and just conceit of his own merits. Devout Chris- 
 tian as he was, the Admiral would have satisfied the 
 pagan philosopher's ideal.) But a virtue less proud 
 and austere would not have given him the influence
 
 1576] 
 
 St. Bartholomew. 8i 
 
 which he needed to control the excesses, the dis- 
 cordant aims and councils of his party. The vanity 
 of the Pluguenot nobles yielded to a pride better 
 founded and more masterful than their own. As 
 a general, he knew how to efTect great results with 
 small means and was never more formidable than 
 when defeated. 
 
 Coligny was a Puritan by conviction and tempera- 
 ment, but a Puritan of the French Renaissance. His 
 house of Chatillon sur Loing, where the day began 
 with prayers, which he himself conducted, contained 
 choice collections of books and works of art, and 
 was as hospitable to scholars and artists as the 
 palace of a Montefeltro or a Medici. The interest 
 in literature and culture which somewhat redeems 
 the bestial licence of the French Court in the i6th 
 century made Calvinism itself more amiable. 
 
 " There," said the Elector Palatine, showing the 
 portrait of his victim to Henry of Anjou, " there is 
 the most virtuous man and the wisest, and the 
 greatest captain of Europe, whose children I have 
 invited to live with me, lest they should be torn in 
 pieces like their father by those French hounds." 
 
 But there is perhaps no greater tribute to the 
 Admiral's integrity than the praise of Brantome, 
 who belonged to the faction of the Guises, yet main- 
 tains that no selfish motive led Coligny to draw his 
 sword, and that had he been less patriotic and less 
 loyal he would not have perished a victim to his 
 hatred of civil strife. 
 
 The death of the Admiral was the signal for the 
 slaughter of the Huguenot gentlemen who were
 
 82 Henry of Navarre. [1555 
 
 lodged in the neighbourhood. It was in the Louvre 
 itself that the massacre was most odious, if not most 
 cruel. The Protestant nobles who were sleeping in 
 the palace had been expressly invited by the King, 
 and were protected by the duty which he owed to 
 them as his guests as well as his subjects, by his 
 honour as a prince and as a gentleman. One by one 
 they were summoned and cut down by the Swiss 
 guards under the very eyes of the King, who, mad 
 with the excitement of his crime, himself urged on 
 the butchery. His victims as they fell reproached 
 him with his broken faith. 
 
 When day dawned the great bell of the Hotel de 
 Ville summoned the rabble of the city to complete 
 the slaughter. On the first day the massacre was 
 chiefly confined to the Huguenot nobles and their 
 followers. The municipality and the most respect- 
 able citizens begged the King to put an end to the 
 disorders which they said were committed by the 
 princes and nobles of his Court, and by the dregs of 
 the populace. Charles IX. asked them to assist in 
 quelling the riot which he affected to deplore. But 
 nothing was done, the bloodshed and horrors of the 
 second and third days outdid the atrocities of the 
 first. Every evil passion, fanaticism, hate, envy, 
 lust and avarice raged uncontrolled, in a hideous 
 scene of anarchy and carnage. Catholic tradesmen 
 murdered their Huguenot competitors, needy cour- 
 tiers hounded on the mob to slaughter their credit- 
 ors, men were killed for their ofifices, for their houses, 
 for their wives. But most horrible perhaps was the 
 ferocity of the mob, of the women and even of the
 
 1576] 
 
 6V. Bartholomew. 83 
 
 little children. A ferocity, which the dregs of Paris 
 had shown in the civil wars of Armagnac and Bur- 
 gundy and which they were again to display in 1793. 
 Women were ripped up, babies spitted on pikes or 
 dragged to the river by children scarcely older than 
 themselves. 
 
 At the lowest computation 2,000 Protestants per- 
 ished in Paris, and these men were the flower of the 
 Huguenot nobility, the most enlightened and ener- 
 getic of the professional and mercantile classes of 
 the capital. It is remarkable that the boldest sol- 
 diers and proudest nobles in France allowed them- 
 selves to be slaughtered like sheep, so completely 
 were these men, whom their enemies accused of 
 plotting to seize the capital and the King's person, 
 taken by surprise. Only one man, and he a lawyer, 
 attempted resistance, barred his doors and kept his 
 assailants at bay, till his house was stormed by a 
 company of the royal guards. 
 
 The Count of Montgomery, the vidame of Char^ 
 tres, with other nobles who were lodged in the Fau- 
 bourg St. Germain, had timely warning and escaped. 
 
 The Duke of Guise, suspecting that an attempt 
 miefht be made to throw the odium of what had 
 happened upon his faction, was anxious that his 
 moderation should contrast with the mad frenzy of 
 bloodshed into which the King had fallen. " He is 
 not," the English envoy wrote to Cecil, " so bloody, 
 neither did he kill any man himself, but saved divers ; 
 he spake openly that for the Admiral's death he was 
 glad, for he knew him to be his enemy, but for the 
 rest the King had put to death such as might do
 
 84 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 him very good service." Following the example of 
 the Guises, other influential Catholics saved some of 
 the victims who took refuge in their houses. A few 
 were even protected by the favour of the Court ; 
 among these was the famous potter Bernard Palissy, 
 who escaped in his workshop in the garden of the 
 Tuileries, to perish eighteen years later of want and 
 ill usage in the prisons of the League. 
 
 The horrors of Paris were repeated on a smaller 
 scale, but with not less atrocious circumstances, at 
 Meaux, Orleans, Angers, Troyes, Bourges, Lyons, 
 Rouen, Toulouse, Bordeaux and other places. Al- 
 though not a few of the governors refused to obey 
 the orders of the Court and the tranquillity of some 
 provinces was comparatively undisturbed, yet at 
 least 20,000 victims perished. 
 
 The Queen-Mother and her advisers had, it is 
 said, at first intended that the King of Navarre and 
 the Prince of Conde should share the fate of the 
 other Huguenots. But their individual importance 
 appeared too insignificant, their rank too exalted. 
 It was not worth while to incur the odium of put- 
 ting to death the first Prince of the Blood, the hus- 
 band of the King's sister, in order to guard against 
 any danger that seemed likely to arise from this 
 " half-fledged kinglet," who appeared less eager to 
 share in the councils of his party than in the revels 
 and debaucheries of his royal brothers. 
 
 Margaret of Valois gives in her memoirs an ap- 
 parently faithful account of the events of the fatal 
 night of St. Bartholomew, so far as they concerned 
 herself and her husband. " The Hug-uenots," she
 
 1576] 
 
 Si. Bartholomew. 85 
 
 says, " suspected me because I was a Catholic ; the 
 Catholics, because I had married the King of Na- 
 varre. So that I heard nothing of what was going 
 on till the evening, when, as I was sitting on a chest 
 in my mother's room by the side of my sister, the 
 Duchess of Lorraine, whom I saw to be very sad, 
 the Queen-Mother noticed me and told me to go to 
 bed. As I was curtesying to her my sister laid 
 hold of my arm and burst into tears saying, ' For 
 God's sake, sister, don't go.' I was greatly fright- 
 ened and seeing this the Queen, my mother, spoke 
 very sharply to my sister, and forbade her to say 
 anything to me, adding that, please God, no harm 
 would happen to me, but that, come what might, go 
 I must, lest something should be suspected. I did 
 not hear what was said, but again and very roughly 
 my mother told me to go. 
 
 " As soon as I was in my room I threw myself on 
 my knees and prayed God to protect me, though I 
 knew not from what or against whom. 
 
 " Meanwhile the king, my husband, had gone to bed 
 and sent word to me to come to him. I found his 
 bed surrounded by thirty or forty Huguenots whom 
 I did not yet know, for I had only been married a 
 few days. All night long they remained talking of 
 what had happened to the Admiral, and determining 
 as soon as day broke to ask for redress against M. 
 de Guise; and if it were not granted, then to seek it 
 for themselves. As for me the tears of my sister 
 weighed on my mind and I could not sleep for fear 
 of some unknown evil. At dawn, the King, my 
 husband, said he would go and play tennis till 
 
 ^^
 
 86 Hefiry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 King Charles was awake, having made up his mind 
 to ask him at once to do justice. He then left my 
 room, and his gentlemen with him. Seeing that it 
 was light, and thinking that tiie danger of which my 
 sister had spoken was passed, and being heavy with 
 drowsiness, I told my nurse to lock the door, so that 
 I might sleep undisturbed. An hour later, when I 
 was fast asleep, some one came beating with hands 
 and feet against the door and shouting ' Navarre, 
 Navarre ! ' My nurse thinking that it was my hus- 
 band ran to open. It was a gentleman wounded by 
 a sword-thrust in the elbow, and his arm cut by a 
 halberd, who rushed into my room pursued by four 
 archers. Seeking safety, he threw himself on my 
 bed [no doubt a four-poster with curtains out of the 
 comparative privacy of which her husband had 
 talked with his gentlemen]. Feeling this man 
 clutching me, I threw myself into the space between 
 the bed and the wall, where, he still grasping me, we 
 rolled over, both screaming and both equally fright- 
 ened. Fortunately, the Captain of my Guards, M. 
 de Nangay, came by, who saw me in such plight, 
 that sorry as he was he could not help laughing, but 
 drove the archers out of the room and gave me the 
 life of the poor gentleman, who was still clinging to 
 me, and whom I caused to be tended and nursed in 
 my dressing-room till he was quite cured. While I 
 changed my night-dress, for he had covered me with 
 his blood, M. de Nan^ay told me what had happened, 
 but assured me that my husband was in the King's 
 room and in no danger. Making me throw on a 
 dressing-gown, he then led me to the room of my
 
 T576] S^. Bartholomew. 87 
 
 sister Madame de Lorraine, which I reached more 
 dead than alive; just as I was going into the ante- 
 room a gentleman trying to escape from the archers 
 who were pursuing him fell stabbed three paces from 
 me. I too fell half fainting into the arms of M. de 
 Nangay and felt as if the same blow had pierced us 
 both," 
 
 Meantime the King of Navarre and the Prince of 
 Conde had been summoned to the King's presence. 
 All that had happened, had, he told them, been done 
 by his oiders. Henceforward he would tolerate no 
 other religion in his dominions than the Roman 
 Catholic. They had allowed themselves to be made 
 the leaders of his enemies, and their lives were justly 
 forfeit. But, as they were his kinsmen and connec- 
 tions, he would pardon them on condition that they 
 conformed to the church of their ancestors ; if not 
 they must prepare to be treated like their friends. 
 
 Navarre, surprised and disconcerted by the unex- 
 pected catastrophe, muttered some ambiguous words ; 
 Cond6 more boldly replied, that he was accountable 
 for his religion to God alone. They were then dis- 
 missed with threats of the Bastille or death, should 
 they be obstinate. 
 
 After some weeks the cautious and measured re- 
 sistance of Henry and the bolder defiance of Conde 
 alike yielded to their fears. The latter indeed, after 
 he had been once dragged to Mass, was zealous in 
 the observances of his new religion ; he was, laughed 
 the courtiers, so busy crossing himself in season and 
 out, that he had no time to notice the love passages 
 between his Princess and Anjou.
 
 88 Henry of Navarre. 11555- 
 
 Henry's life was now safe, perhaps it had never been 
 seriously threatened, but it would not be easy to 
 imagine a more difficult and dangerous position than 
 that in which he now found himself. The eight 
 hundred gentlemen who had accompanied him to 
 his wedding were slain or fled, there was none near 
 him to warn him or advise, powerless as he appeared 
 in the hands of his mother-in-law. Catherine sug- 
 gested to her daughter, if the latter may be believed, 
 that a divorce might easily be procured, which would 
 have deprived him of such security as the position 
 of the King's brother-in-law conferred. But Mar- 
 garet declined to be a party to any such scheme, 
 and, though she had no affection for her husband, 
 appears at this crisis of his fortunes to have played 
 the part of a loyal friend, helping him by her advice 
 to thread his way through the mazes of a Court, 
 than which none was ever more disturbed by un- 
 scrupulous intrigue, by mutual hatred and suspicion. 
 
 It was indeed a strange stage on which this beard- 
 less youth of nineteen, this King, with more nose 
 than kingdom, as the courtiers jested, was called to 
 play his perilous part ; still reeking with the blood 
 of the tragedy just enacted, crowded with a motley 
 crew of cut-throats, courtesans and adventurers, 
 elbowing nobles, ladies and princes, who differed 
 from them little in manners, dress or decency of 
 life. 
 
 " In that Court," says an eye-witness, " common 
 sin seemed too near virtue to please, and he was reck- 
 oned to show little spirit who was content to be the 
 gallant of but one adulteress." There everything,
 
 1576] S^. Bartholomew. 89 
 
 another contemporary declares, was tolerated, except 
 a decent life and virtuous conversation. There, too, 
 was " hate hard by lust," and the general profligacy 
 was accompanied by a violence of manners such as 
 we cannot easily realise. Flown with insolence and 
 wine, the princes and their minions ranged the streets, 
 insulting the women, beating and wounding inoffen- 
 sive citizens and engaging in bloody and fatal 
 broils with their rivals in debauchery. 
 
 Such was the example set in the highest places. 
 The Kings of France, Poland and Navarre and their 
 attendants, after a hideous orgy which began with a 
 banquet served by naked women, stormed and sacked 
 the house of a gentleman, who had offended Henry 
 of Anjou by refusing to marry his cast-ofT mistress. 
 Nor did this exploit attract attention as anything 
 out of the common course. 
 
 Eight thousand gentlemen were killed in duels 
 during the reign of Henry IV., and probably no 
 fewer during the previous twenty years. The 
 Romans, a moralist complained, left the duel and the 
 point of honour to gladiators and to the dregs of 
 their slaves. Now to be the first to break through 
 the ranks of the enemy, to plant the standard on the 
 breach, to rally a flying squadron, is no proof of 
 courage — courage can only be shown in a quarrel 
 about a dog or hawk or harlot. 
 
 To kill an enemy in fair combat was a source of 
 legitimate pride, but it was scarcely reckoned dis- 
 honourable to get rid of him by assassination. Writ- 
 ing a few years later, the diarist L'Estoile remarks, 
 that the gentry following the example of the great
 
 90 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 nobles were beginning to have recourse to assassina-- 
 tion instead of to the duel. The annals of one 
 princely house will furnish us with sufficient exam- 
 ples. The Duke of Mayenne killed with his own 
 hand a soldier of fortune who had the assurance to 
 propose to marry his step-daughter, the son of Henry 
 of Guise proved his manhood by stabbing the Cap- 
 tain St. Pol, the Duke of Aumale sought to assas- 
 sinate the Duke of Epernon, the Count of Chaligny 
 murdered Chicot the Court jester. Maurevert, a 
 hireling bravo of the Guises, who, after failing to 
 assassinate Coligny, killed by treachery a Huguenot 
 .gentleman, his benefactor, was made a knight of the 
 order of St. Michael by Charles IX. But nothing 
 perhaps is more significant than that, when Aubign^ 
 accuses his admired master Henry IV. of seeking to 
 compass his assassination, either because he had 
 refused to pander to his licentious amours, or, as he 
 would have us believe, from jealousy of his martial 
 renown, he evidently does not suspect that he is 
 bringing a monstrous and improbable charge against 
 the Prince, whom he elsewhere so loudly praises. 
 Even the women were prompt in the use of the 
 dagger. Madame de Chateauneuf, discovering the 
 infidelity of her husband, stabbed him " in right 
 manly fashion " then and there with her own hand. 
 Never have the unbridled ferocity and savage pas- 
 sions of the barbarian shown themselves in closer 
 and more startling contrast to the artificial corrup 
 tions and effeminate graces of an apparently decadent 
 society. 
 
 The most prominent actors were worthy of the
 
 /576] SL BartJiolomew. 9 1 
 
 scene and the drama. The half frenzied King dis- 
 trusted all around him, and none more than his 
 brother Anjou and his mother, by whom he had 
 allowed himself to be persuaded to sacrifice the one 
 man who had touched his better nature, and to 
 exchange his dreams of honourable renown for 
 eternal infamy. Charles IX. was capricicms, violent, 
 liable to sudden starts and gusts of passion. In his 
 fits of fury, he lost all control over his actions, and 
 showed in his sports a morbid cruelty and love of 
 bloodshed. Yet he was perhaps the best of his 
 family. He kept clear in some measure of the 
 shameless immorality which disgraced so many of 
 his contemporaries ; he had real feeling for music 
 and poetry ; he addressed Ronsard in well known 
 lines not inferior to anything written by that poet. 
 He was not incapable of being influenced by noble 
 motives, or by a noble character, if brought into 
 contact with it. We have seen the ascendancy 
 Coligny obtained over him, and towards the misera- 
 ble end of his life, he befriended and clung to his 
 brother-in-law Henry of Navarre, recognising in him 
 some sparks of generosity, manliness and honour 
 wanting in his own brothers. 
 
 Next to the King, says a satirist, came one who 
 appeared better skilled to judge of the harlots of the 
 Court, better composed for love — smooth chin, pale 
 face, the gestures of a woman, the eye of Sardanapa- 
 lus ; and he goes on to describe how this ambiguous 
 thing appeared without a blush at a Court ball, its 
 hair full of strings and pearls under an Italian cap, 
 its smooth face rouged and whitened, the body of
 
 92 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 the doublet cut low like a woman's with long sleeves 
 falling to the ground, a painted courtesan rather than 
 a prince — a second Nero, and worse than Nero, fed 
 from his cradle on poisons, secret wiles and treachery. 
 The picture of course is overcharged — even Henry 
 of Valois had some qualities not wholly abject. He 
 was neither a madman like Charles IX. nor an ambi- 
 tious and meddlesome fool like his younger brother 
 Alengon. He had insight into men and things. He 
 could speak with weight and dignity ; he had more 
 than once given proof of personal courage. But the 
 influence of his mother, the evil atmosphere in which 
 he had been brought up, had at an early age encour- 
 aged a luxuriant growth of vices and follies which 
 choked his better qualities. He was so entirely 
 without any moral sense, that not only did it seem as 
 if good and evil were indifferent to him, but also as 
 if he had lost all measure of the relative importance 
 of the objects he pursued. 
 
 Of the three sons of Henry H., the youngest, 
 Francis Duke of Alengon, was the most contemptible, 
 in ability and even in character ; and although, as a 
 contrast to the shameless effeminacy of his brother 
 Anjou, he affected a rough frankness and martial 
 bearing, he was not less false, or less corrupt. If all 
 treachery were banished from earth, said Margaret of 
 Valois of this her favourite brother, he had enough 
 to re-stock the world. 
 
 Next in importance to the Princes of the Blood, 
 was the head of the younger branch of the House of 
 Lorraine, the youthful Henry of Guise — courting 
 popularity, affable and splendid, concealing an
 
 HENRY III.
 
 15761 '^^^ Bartholomew. 93 
 
 insatiable and unscrupulous ambition under the 
 exterior of a soldier and a man of pleasure. 
 
 United in their amusements and debaucheries, 
 these young Princes were divided by their ambition 
 and by the interests of those who had attached them- 
 selves to their fortunes. 
 
 ^Catherine de' Medici no doubt was well pleased 
 with the success of her policy. The Admiral, whose 
 influence over the King would have been fatal to her 
 ambition, was dead. Six hundred of the most prom- 
 inent Huguenot nobles had perished, and a blow had 
 been dealt to their party from which it was believed 
 that it would not readily recover, "^ 
 
 The French Court showed a little consistency in 
 the accounts which it gave of the events of the 24th 
 of August. Naturally it did not wish to present the 
 massacre in the same light to Elizabeth and to the 
 Protestant Princes of Germany as to the Pope and 
 Philip of Spain. But the version which on the whole 
 it seemed desirable to have accepted was that the 
 Huguenots had formed a conspiracy against the 
 Crown, that the King had been compelled to take 
 measures to defend himself, but that the excesses 
 committed had proceeded from the hostility of the 
 Plouses of Guise and Chatillon, and from the uncon- 
 trollable religious zeal of the Parisians. 
 
 To Catherine the massacre was merely a domestic 
 incident ; she did not intend to allow it to influence 
 the foreign policy of France. What she had ob- 
 jected to had been not the policy which Coligny 
 urged upon the King, but Coligny himself. It is 
 true that she had shrunk from a formal declaration
 
 94 Henry of Navarre, [1555- 
 
 of war against Spain, but she was ready to vie with 
 Queen EHzabeth in helping the rebels and harrying 
 the subjects of a Prince still, in diplomatic phrase, 
 her good friend and ally. 
 
 Various circumstances tended to encourage Cath- 
 erine in the belief that a government so stained with 
 murder and perfidy, execrated by half Europe, could, 
 up to a certain point, adopt as its own and carry on 
 the policy of the Admiral. 
 
 At the first report of the blow, the fatal blow as 
 it was supposed, dealt to the Protestant cause in 
 France, Orange advancing to the relief of Mons was 
 driven back into Holland. The rebellion was crushed 
 in the southern provinces, the garrisons and popula- 
 tions which had refused to admit the Spanish troops 
 were exterminated. Holland and Zealand still re- 
 sisted, but their resistance seemed hopeless unless 
 they could obtain help from no matter what quarter. 
 It was just because her crime had been so fatal to 
 them, that the Nassaus could not refuse the hand 
 which Catherine held out, red though it was with 
 the blood of their brethren. 
 
 Nor did Queen Elizabeth venture to break with 
 the French Court, fearing lest :t should be driven 
 into an alliance with Spain. The indignation of the 
 English people was indeed deeply stirred, and the 
 Queen gave some satisfaction to their feelings by 
 the theatrical severity of her reception of the French 
 ambassador, when he attempted to justify his Gov- 
 ernment. Cecil, whose sympathy with the Protes- 
 tants of the continent was deeper than that of his 
 mistress, ventured to condemn in harsher terms the
 
 1576] Results of tJic Massacre. 95 
 
 unexampled infamy of a crime committed in the 
 presence of the King and in violation of his plighted 
 word, but he too felt that even in such a cause, Eng- 
 land could not venture to quarrel with her only ally. 
 
 It is not probable that Catherine quickly realised 
 how completely her master-stroke had failed in at- 
 taining the result she expected in France. The 
 Huguenots were stunned for a space by the violence 
 of the blow. The death of the Admiral and of so 
 many of their leading men threw the organisation 
 of the party out of gear. Many who had joined the 
 Protestants from interested motives abandoned a 
 cause which they considered desperate ; others af- 
 fected to see in this disaster the judgment of heaven, 
 and followed Navarre and Conde to Mass. Nothing 
 but a conviction of the hopelessness of further re- 
 sistance could have induced La Noue, the Knight 
 without reproach, the Bayard of his party, to be- 
 come the agent of the murderers of his friends and 
 to undertake the task of persuading La Rochelle to 
 admit a royal garrison. 
 
 But friends and enemies were soon to learn that 
 though the effect of the massacre on the Huguenot 
 party was great, it had done little to break their 
 spirit, or even to diminish their power of resistance. 
 Most of the powerful nobles to whom they had 
 looked up as their leaders had been slaughtered, 
 others had conformed to Romanism. After 1572 
 the popular element predominated in the Huguenot 
 assemblies. The struggle which the Bourbons and 
 the Chatillons had begun was continued by the 
 citizens of La Rochelle and Montauban, of Sancerre
 
 96 Henry of Navarre. [1553- 
 
 and Nimes. But the princes and nobles had only 
 demanded religious liberty, the townsmen, not con- 
 tent with asking for toleration, required also that 
 the States-General should be assembled, the politi- 
 cal grievances of the country remedied. The repub- 
 lican tendencies which seem to be the necessary 
 consequence of Calvinism, began to make them- 
 selves felt. Numerous books and pamphlets poured 
 from the press, publishing on the housetops, what 
 hitherto men had scarcely whispered in a friend's 
 ear, discussing the reciprocal rights of rulers and 
 subjects, and affirming that if the King sought the 
 hurt of his people, they were absolved from their 
 allegiance. The obedience, so it was now taught, of 
 the people is conditional on the Prince performing 
 his engagement, whether implied or explicit, to gov- 
 ern justly and equitably. No man is born a king, 
 and it was proved historically that the French mon- 
 archy was elective, and that sovereignty was not in 
 the Crown, but in the people, represented by the 
 Three Estates. This natural and lawful sovereignty 
 of the nation, after lasting eleven centuries, had been 
 extinguished by the gradual and unconstitutional 
 encroachments of the kings. The inapplicability to 
 the French monarchy of the Imperialist maxims 
 borrowed by the lawyers from Roman law was 
 pointed out. The only possible justification of des- 
 potism is the maintenance of order ; the Massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew had been an appeal to disorder, 
 licence and anarchy. The Government had let loose 
 upon society those destructive passions which it is 
 its primary function to bridle. It was thus that the
 
 1576] Results of the Massacre. 97 
 
 Protestant publicists forged the weapons afterwards 
 used by the League in their struggle against Henry 
 III. and Henry IV. 
 
 The Protestant middle classes in uniting the cause 
 of political liberty and progress with that of their 
 religion showed a truer insight into the needs of 
 their country than was ever attained to by the 
 nobles of their party. It would have proved of in- 
 estimable advantage to France had they been able 
 to make their voice heard with more decisive effect. 
 In the mouths of the demagogues of the League, of 
 the hirelings of Spain and of the disciples of the 
 Jesuits, such an appeal to the old constitutionaC 
 liberties of France, and to the indefeasible sover- 
 eignty of the people was a meaningless or hypo- 
 critical jargon. 
 
 Montauban, Sancerre and La Rochelle set the first 
 example of resistance, refusing to receive the royal 
 garrisons. Towards the end of 1572 a synod held 
 in Beam drew up a plan for the organisation of the 
 Protestant communities in districts, governed by 
 officers elected by all classes. 
 
 The Government determined to attack La Rochelle, 
 in every respect the most important of the Huguenot 
 strongholds, the port by which they communicated 
 with their friends in the Low Countries and Eng- 
 land, and which assisted the cause by contributing a 
 considerable share of the wealth acquired by prey- 
 ing on Spanish commerce. 
 
 The siege of La Rochelle cost the lives of over 
 20,000 men and of more than three hundred officers 
 of some distinction The King of Navarre and the
 
 98 Henry of Navarre. [|555 
 
 Prince of Cond^ were compelled to prove the sin- 
 cerity of their conversion by serving side by side 
 with the Guises under the Duke of Anjou. But 
 this Prince had meantime been elected King of 
 Poland. The French agents had spared neither lies 
 nor promises. Anjou, they declared, had taken no 
 share in the persecution of the Protestants, which he 
 had always lamented. It was not desirable that the 
 Polish ambassadors, who were on their way to salute 
 their new sovereign, should find him engaged in the 
 siege of a Protestant town. To appear to yield to a 
 diplomatic necessity was less humiliating than to 
 confess the total failure of all efforts to take La 
 Rochelle by treachery or force ; and the Court 
 gladly seized the opportunity to offer acceptable 
 terms to the besieged (June 24, 1573). -* 
 
 The lesson taught by the successful resistance of 
 La Rochelle was not thrown away. On the anniver- 
 sary of the massacre (August 24, 1573), the delegates 
 of the Huguenots of Languedoc and Guienne met 
 and after organising themselves into a kind of federal 
 republic, sent a deputation to communicate their de- 
 mands to the King : complete toleration and liberty 
 of worship throughout the kingdom ; all law courts 
 to contain an equal number of judges of both reli- 
 gions ; members of the Reformed Church to be re- 
 leased from the payment of tithes ; punishment of 
 the authors of the massacre and restitution of the 
 property of the victims to th^ir heirs ; two fortresses 
 in each province to be placed as security in the 
 hands of the Protestants and garrisoned by them at 
 the King's expense. Catherine exclaimed in indig-
 
 1576J Results of the Massacre. 99 
 
 nant amazement, " that if Conde had been ahve and 
 in possession of Paris with 70,000 men he would not 
 have asked half so much," yet she did not dare 
 altocfether to refuse to entertain the demands of the 
 Reformers — so threatening had become the attitude 
 of the moderate Catholic party, the Politicians. They 
 were disgusted by the misgovcrnment of Charles IX., 
 the perfidy and cruelty of his mother, the baseness 
 of her Italian favourites. The sufferings of the 
 Huguenots had excited the sympathy of many who 
 did not care to abandon the Established Church, yet 
 were not fanatically attached to its doctrines. A 
 spirit of compromise and toleration was more widely 
 diffused, weariness of the sufferings caused by a 
 struggle in which the atrocities of the Catholics had 
 been avenged by reprisals scarcely less cruel, indigna- 
 tion that such horrors should be perpetrated in the 
 name of religion, experience of the fact that it was 
 possible for two religions to exist side by side in the 
 same state and even in the same town, disposed all 
 humane and moderate men to wish rather to join in 
 seeking to remedy the anarchy and misgovcrnment 
 under which the country was sinking, than to attempt 
 to restore unity of faith by the sword. Moreover 
 the Montmorencys, the leaders of the moderate 
 party, were aware that the Queen-Mother intended 
 their ruin after that of the Bourbons and Chatillons. 
 The Politicians published a manifesto demanding 
 the reformation of the Government, the assembly of 
 the Estates, and the restoration of the national liber- 
 ties. The Huguenots began to occupy the fortresses 
 of Poitou. Montgomery, the splinter of whose lance
 
 lOO Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 had killed Henry II., and who, to the disappoint- 
 ment of Catherine, had escaped on St. Bartholomew's 
 Day, landed in Normandy with English supplies and 
 English volunteers. 
 
 The Duke of Damvillc, the second son of the Con- 
 stable Montmorency, who was governor of Languedoc, 
 where he ruled with almost sovereign authority, 
 observed an attitude of friendly neutrality to the 
 Huguenots of his province and of Guienne. 
 
 In Poitou the Huguenots prospered, but in Nor- 
 mandy Montgomery was unable to maintain himself 
 and was finally compelled to capitulate. 
 
 Catherine hurried to tell the King that Mont- 
 gomery, whom she hated, was a prisoner ; but turn- 
 ing his face to the wall he asked to be left in peace. 
 Even Protestant historians are moved to pity by 
 the miserable end of Charles IX, He had again com- 
 pletely fallen under the influence of his mother. On 
 one point only he had firmly insisted. He compelled 
 his brother Anjou to leave France (September, 1573), 
 to take possession of his Polish throne. Notwith- 
 standing his weak health he exhausted himself in 
 insane revels. He appeared to seek to lose himself 
 in the wildest physical exertions. His eyes were 
 sunk, his complexion livid, he was unable to meet 
 the gaze of those with w^hom he spoke. In the 
 autumn of 1573, he was attacked by smallpox, his 
 health became worse and worse, he often awoke 
 bathed in his blood, a judgment as it seemed to him 
 of the carnage to which he had consented. Indeed, 
 from the first he was tormented by remorse. 
 
 Less than a fortnight after the massacre, so Henry
 
 CHARLES IX. 
 From the painting by F. Clouet.
 
 1576] Results of the Massacre. loi 
 
 IV. used to tell his friends, Charles IX. sent for him 
 in the middle of the night ; the King had started 
 from his bed alarmed by a confused noise of shouts, 
 shrieks and groans, such as had re-echoed through 
 the streets of Paris on that fatal night. Henry of 
 Navarre himself and all who were present heard the 
 turmoil, and officers were sent to discover what new 
 riot had broken out in the city. The streets were 
 empty, all was quiet in Paris, only round the Louvre 
 the air was filled with horrid uproar. 
 
 At other times the King was disturbed by black 
 bands of obscene birds, crows and ravens, who ob- 
 stinately perched on the towers and gables of the 
 palace, and by their importunate cries appeared to 
 call for such another banquet of murdered corpses. 
 
 As his death approached, the King was constantly 
 disturbed by fearful visions. He begged God to 
 have mercy on him and on his people. What would 
 become of them ? he cried ; as for himself, he well 
 knew that he was lost. His last words were that he 
 rejoiced to leave no son behind him, the heir of his 
 kingdom and his crimes. 
 
 Queen Catherine showed both spirit and skill in 
 securing the peaceable succession of her favourite 
 son. Fortunately for her the opponents she had 
 most reason to dread were in her power. Montmor- 
 ency and Cosse the leaders of the Politicians were 
 in the Bastille ; Navarre and Alencon prisoners in 
 all but name, watched, wrote the English envoy, by 
 guard upon guard, and even the windows of their 
 rooms grated. 
 
 Cond6 alone had slipped from her clutches, and
 
 102 Heiiry of Navarre. [i555- 
 
 after visiting Geneva, was negotiating with the 
 German Princes and collecting mercenaries at Stras- 
 bourg. The news of his brother's death reached 
 Anjou in Poland, where he had already disgusted 
 his subjects by his womanish ways, his evident dis- 
 taste for their country and customs and his neglect 
 of his public duties. He fled from Cracow with in- 
 decent haste in the middle of the night, excusing 
 himself on the ground that the state of France was 
 so disturbed that a week's delay might imperil his 
 succession. Yet instead of taking the shortest road 
 to the French frontier, he preferred to travel by 
 Vienna and through Italy, and wasted two months 
 in luxurious debauchery. Pignerol, the gate of Italy, 
 was restored to the Duke of Savoy, in acknowledg- 
 ment of his sumptuous hospitality. The Duke at 
 least repaid Henry's generosity by good advice, such 
 as he had already received from the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian and the Venetian Doge. He urged him to 
 conciliate the Politicians, and to re-establish peace 
 by moderate concessions to the Protestants. He 
 invited Damville to Turin to confer with the King. 
 Damville came and the King tried to persuade his 
 host to allow him to be arrested. Damville w'as 
 warned to be on his guard, and hastily returning to 
 Languedoc at once formed a closer alliance with the 
 Huguenots. 
 
 He was elected protector of the confederates, but 
 was to act by the advice of a council composed of 
 three representatives of each of the districts which 
 adhered to the cause of the Protestants and the 
 allied Catholics. Of these deputies, one was to be a
 
 1576] Results of the Massacre. 103 
 
 noble and two of the Third Estate ; the majority was 
 thus assured to the representatives of the commons, 
 a decisive proof that the movement was not, as has 
 been often alleged, aristocratic. Yet it must be 
 allowed that the Protestants from henceforth became 
 less and less a national party. In the manifesto 
 which they now published we find for the last time 
 demands for toleration coupled with a clear state- 
 ment of the reforms necessary for the constitutional 
 development of the monarchy — regular meetings of 
 the States-General, abolition of arbitrary taxation 
 and other securities for public liberty. 
 
 Persecution and war had driven the Protestants 
 out of the provinces in which they formed only a 
 small minority of the population ; they stood at bay 
 in Dauphiny, Languedoc, Guienne, Poitou, Auvergne 
 and the lordships under the Pyrenees, districts in 
 which the traditions of provincial independence were 
 most powerful, the sense of national unity weakest. 
 Hence the danger that the great nobles, the heads 
 of families, who had long enjoyed a consideration 
 and authority in their respective provinces scarcely 
 inferior to that of the Crown, such as the La Tour 
 d'Auvergnes in Auvergne, the La Rochefoucaulds in 
 Guienne, the La Tremoilles and Rohans in Poitou, 
 might use the strength of the party for the gratifica- 
 tion of their private ambition. But it cannot be too 
 often repeated that the Catholic party, the party of 
 the League, was not in any true sense a more popu- 
 lai party, more patriotic, or more concerned for the 
 maintenance of the national liberties and unity than 
 their opponents. One of the main objects of the
 
 I04 Henry of Navarre. 
 
 [1555- 
 
 Catholic leaders was to convert the governorships of 
 provinces and towns into hereditary offices ; yet it 
 was not forgotten that a similar conversion of the 
 counties and duchies of the Carlovingian kingdoms, 
 from offices held during the good-will of the sovereign 
 into hereditary principalities, had produced the dis- 
 ruption of those kingdoms and the feudal anarchy of 
 the loth and nth centuries. The numerous towns 
 which joined the League aimed only at recovering 
 the selfish municipal privileges of the Middle Ages. 
 To secure the independence enjoyed by the free 
 towns of Germany, they would have acquiesced in 
 the partition of the monarchy. 
 
 Catherine de' Medici was waiting to welcome her 
 son at Bourgoin and they entered Lyons in state 
 together. There the new King proclaimed his inten- 
 tion of subduing by force of arms those who resisted 
 his authority. Refusing to listen to those wiser 
 councillors who pointed to the exhaustion of the 
 country and the emptiness of the treasury, he fol- 
 lowed the advice of his mother, who, fearing, if peace 
 were made, the influence of Montmorency and other 
 Moderates, and believing that nothing was impossible 
 to the hero of Jarnac and Montcontour when directed 
 by her councils, had abandoned her habitual caution 
 and was the advocate of a vigorous policy. 
 
 But when the money needed to pay the expenses 
 of military operations had been raised by loans from 
 foreign princes, by extortion and by ruinous ex- 
 pedients, it was wasted in senseless profusion by the 
 King, who showed his Catholic zeal not by placing 
 himself at the head of his army, but by conducting
 
 1376] Results of the Massacre. 105 
 
 fantastically dressed processions of penitents. These 
 processions had one good consequence. Cardinal 
 Charles of Lorraine unaccustomed to such barefoot 
 devotions, caught a chill which proved fatal. The 
 Protestants believed that he was carried off by the 
 devil ; for " something more violent than the wind 
 tore down and whirled off into the air the lattices and 
 window bars of the house where he lodged." 
 
 While Henry III. was parading his puerile piety in 
 the papal city of Avignon, Damville held twenty 
 miles away, at Nimes, a general assembly of the 
 Huguenots and " united Catholics." Discredited and 
 ridiculed, the King journeyed north to be crowned at 
 Rheims and the confederates were encouraged to 
 propose terms which implied not the humiliation 
 only but the ruin of the monarchy. Efforts were 
 made to continue the war with greater vigour, when 
 the Court was suddenly alarmed by the news of the 
 flight of the Duke of Alengon, who placed himself at 
 the head of the rebels (September, 1575). 
 
 Henry of Bourbon both disliked and despised 
 Alen^on and chafed to see him occupying, as the 
 champion and leader of the Reformers, a position to 
 which he felt that he himself had a better claim. 
 Soon after the Duke's flight, Cecil's agent reports that 
 " Navarre was never so merry nor so much made of " 
 — but as time went on, his position at the French Court 
 became neither more secure nor more honourable. 
 
 It was humiliating to masquerade in Henry III.'s 
 penitential processions and still more degrading to be 
 the companion of debaucheries, which in themselves 
 were not attractive to an appetite for vice, which if
 
 io6 Henry of Navarre. [1555- 
 
 scarcely less keen than the King's, was less sophisti- 
 cated and jaded. And what if not even the sacrifice 
 of his self-respect, his dignity and his ambition could 
 secure his safety ? 
 
 All his Huguenot servants had been removed, ex- 
 cept Aubigne, the historian, who, like his master, 
 had hidden a serious purpose under a frivolous ex- 
 terior, and one other : these two sitting by his bed, 
 heard him sigh and repeat the 88th psalm, " Thou 
 hast put away my acquaintance far from me and 
 made me to be abhorred of them. I am so fast in 
 prison that I cannot get forth." Upon this, Aubigne 
 drew the curtains and addressed to his master one of 
 those sententious speeches with which, if we may 
 believe his history, he would seem to have been 
 always provided. " Is it true, Sire, that the spirit 
 of God still dwells and works in you ? You sigh to 
 Him for the absence of your faithful friends and ser- 
 vants, while they are met together grieving that you 
 are not with them, and labouring for your deliver- 
 ance. Are you not weary of trying to hide behind 
 yourself ? you are guilty of your greatness and of the 
 wrongs you have endured. The murderers of St. 
 Bartholomew's Day have a good memory, and cannot 
 believe that of their victims to be so short, 
 
 " Nay, if what is dishonourable were but safe ! But 
 no risk can be greater than to remain. As for us 
 two, we were speaking, when what you said led us to 
 draw the curtain, of escaping to-morrow. Consider, 
 Sire, that you will next be served by hands which 
 will not dare to refuse to employ poison or steel 
 against you."
 
 f576] Results of the Massacre. 107 
 
 / It is probable that no eloquence was needed to 
 induce Henry to attempt his escape as soon as occa- 
 sion offered. In the meantime he feigned to believe 
 the King's protestations of good-will and to fear the 
 hostility of Alengon, while he continued his appar- 
 ently careless and trivial life. In a letter to the 
 Governor of Beam, which he no doubt expected 
 would be read by others, he describes the Court 
 as being strangely distracted, " we are all ready to cut 
 one another's throats, and wear daggers, chain vests 
 and often corselets under our cloaks . . . the King 
 loves me more than ever. M. de Guise and M. 
 de Mayenne [Guise's younger brother] never leave 
 my side"; the partisans of Alengon, he goes on to 
 say, hate him to the death, but in a Court where all 
 others are his friends, he does not fear them. 
 
 He played the dupe so successfully, Henry III. 
 was so convinced of his infatuation, that greater liberty 
 began to be allowed him. Toward the end of Jan- 
 uary (1576), some ofificers who bad been disappointed 
 in their expectation of royal favour offered, if the 
 King of Navarre would separate himself from the 
 Court, to put him in possession of Chartres, le Mans 
 and Cherbourg. In order that they might have time 
 for their preparations, and to enable his friends to 
 collect a force near Paris, Henry postponed his 
 attempt to escape till February 20th. 
 
 On February 4th as he came back towards night- 
 fall from hunting near Senlis, he met Aubign^ and 
 two or three of his attendants galloping at full 
 speed from Paris. "Sire," cried Aubigne, "we are 
 betrayed ; the King knows all. The road to Paris
 
 io8 Henry of Navarre. [1555-* 
 
 leads to dishonour and death, those to Hfe and glory 
 are in the opposite direction." " There is no need," 
 was the answer, " of so many words ; let us be off." 
 All night long they hurried through the dark and 
 frozen woods, crossed the Seine as the day broke, at 
 Poissy, and without meeting any of the numerous 
 bodies of troops by whom the country was patrolled, 
 reached Alen^on in safety the next day. Here 
 Henry stood sponsor at the christening, according 
 to Calvinist ritual, of the child of his doctor. As he 
 entered the meeting-house, the congregation were 
 singing the 21st psalm. " The King shall rejoice in 
 thy strength, O Lord, exceeding glad shall he be of 
 thy salvation. Thou hast given him his heart's 
 desire." 
 
 Hearing that the psalm had not been specially 
 chosen, he said that he welcomed the omen. 
 
 During his long ride he had been thoughtful and 
 silent beyond his wont. He now began to talk to 
 those about him with his usual cheery vivacity 
 and apparently careless good-fellowship. He had, 
 he said, left in Paris only two things which he 
 regretted — the Mass and his wife. The latter he 
 would have again ; the former he might make shift 
 to do without. 
 
 From Alengon Henry proceeded to Saumuronthe 
 Loire, where he was joined by some of the numerous 
 Huguenot gentry of the neighbourhood. Yet his 
 position was difficult. Not only was Alen^on recog- 
 nised as the leader of the opponents of the Court, 
 but Cond^ had been acting as the chief of the Prot- 
 estants, and it was doubtful whether his greater
 
 1576] The Peace of Monsieur. 109 
 
 services and more earnest devotion to the cause 
 would not be held to outweigh the superior rank of 
 the King of Navarre. The wisest course probably 
 was to take no decided action, and to await the 
 result of the negotiations which were being carried 
 on between the Government and the rebels. This 
 Henry determined to do, and in the meantime urged 
 his friends to join him and thus strengthen his posi- 
 tion whether for peace or war. 
 
 Catherine and her son in their terror at the 
 alliance between Protestants and Politicians, and at a 
 threatened invasion of German mercenaries due to 
 the negotiations of Conde, released the Marshals 
 Montmorency and Cosse. Montmorency bestirred 
 himself to bring about an agreement which should 
 end the war. Whole districts were being reduced 
 to desolation. Both sides plundered the unhappy 
 peasantry with impartial cruelty. But the German 
 Reitcrs excelled in systematic rapacity and the 
 atrocities perpetrated by their allies increased the 
 popular hatred of the Huguenots in the North- 
 eastern provinces. 
 
 The Court proposed terms which were generally 
 acceptable {Paix de Monsieur, February, 1576). The 
 conditions granted to the Protestants were more 
 favourable than any they had hitherto obtained : 
 complete freedom of worship throughout the king- 
 dom except at Paris ; the establishment of courts in 
 all the Parliaments composed of an equal number of 
 judges of both religions ; the restoration of the 
 Protestants and their allies, who were declared to be 
 the good and loyal subjects of the King, to all their
 
 no Henry of Navarre. [1576 
 
 honours and offices; the disavowal of the Massacre 
 of St. Bartholomew and the restitution of the prop- 
 erty of the victims to their heirs ; and the occupation 
 of eight fortresses, as a_ security for the due ob- 
 servance of the treaty. In order that other griev- 
 ances might be remedied, the States-General were 
 to be assembled within six months. Such were the 
 more general stipulations. Alen^on further obtained 
 the addition to his appanage of the duchies of 
 Anjou, Touraine and Berry and of other lordships 
 which raised his revenue to 400,000 crowns. Conde 
 was confirmed in the government of Picardy. 
 Navarre in that of Guienne. A large sum was paid 
 to John Casimir, the brother of the Elector Palatine 
 for the wages of his Reiters and to compensate him 
 for the trouble and expense of his invasion of France.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HENRY OF NAVARRE THE PROTECTOR OF THE 
 CHURCHES. 
 
 1 576-1 586. 
 
 iHE terms of the "Peace of Monsieur" 
 were far too favourable to the Prot- 
 estants not to excite the greatest 
 irritation among the more zealous 
 Catholics. > 
 
 Henry III. had been determined to 
 end the war, even, he said, should it cost him half 
 his kingdom. He probably counted on the violent 
 reaction which was certain to be provoked, and on 
 the resistance which the Parliaments and clergy and 
 other bodies would offer to the execution of the 
 treaty, as an excuse for the non-performance of the 
 concessions by which he bought peace. But if so, 
 he ought to have seen how much his authority 
 would be weakened by the double humiliation of 
 yielding such terms to rebellious subjects and of 
 subsequently excusing their violation by the plea 
 that he was powerless to enforce them. 
 
 Ill
 
 1 1 2 Henry of Navarre. ti576- 
 
 Humi^res, the Governor of Peronne, refused to 
 surrender that strong fortress to Conde, who, accord- 
 ing to the terms of the peace, ought to ha\^e been 
 placed in possession of it as Governor of Picardy, 
 and sought for support by forming an association 
 between the partisans of the Guises and the most 
 fanatical Catholics in the province. The Catholics 
 as well as the Protestants had proved in the South 
 the value of such confederations for political and 
 military purposes. 
 
 The movement spread, and, although the better 
 class of citizens and magistrates held aloof, was re- 
 ceived with special favour in Paris, and soon grew 
 into a general Holy League, or association of the ex- 
 treme Catholic party throughout the kingdom. 
 
 A paper setting forth the objects of the associa- 
 tion and the obligations which its members assumed 
 was widely circulated. The preamble declared, that 
 the Holy League of the Catholic princes, lords and 
 gentlemen — it is significant that there is no mention 
 of towns or burgesses — was formed to re-establish 
 the authority of the law of God and of the Apos- 
 tolic Roman Church ; to restore to the provinces and 
 estates of the kingdom their privileges and fran- 
 chises, as they had existed in the time of King 
 Clovis ; to support the honour of the King and to 
 obey him and after him all the posterity of the 
 House of Valois, thus implicitly excluding the 
 Bourbon Princes from the succession. The members 
 bound themselves to obey loyally the head of the 
 association, to punish with the utmost severity who- 
 soever under any pretext whatever attempted to
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 113 
 
 withdraw himself from the League, and to regard as 
 enemies all who refused to join it, to defend each 
 other against any assailant, whoever he might be — • 
 i. e., even against the King — and to endeavour to 
 compass the objects of the association against no 
 matter what opposition. 
 
 The same articles of association were probably not 
 shown to all members, and those which were most 
 threatening to his authority were certainly concealed 
 from the King. Yet they could not long be kept 
 secret. From the first the League was regarded with 
 suspicion by all loyal Frenchmen, and Henry IIL 
 endeavoured to obtain a promise from the Guises, 
 that they would form no associations which were 
 likely to lead to a breach of the recent peace. 
 
 But the reaction of popular feeling against the 
 Protestants was violent. They were attacked and 
 their worship disturbed by the populace ; if they 
 appealed to the protection of the laws, they ob- 
 tained no redress, and the obstinate ill-will of the 
 Parliaments prevented the establishment of the 
 mixed courts. 
 
 The King hoped by his statecraft and their mutual 
 rivalry to depress his opponents, whether Guises, 
 Bourbons or Montmorencys, and gradually to eradi- 
 cate heresy without having recourse to arms, and with- 
 out subordinating French interests to those of Spain. 
 But to carry out such a plan required patient self- 
 control as well as extreme skill in perceiving and 
 utilising the force of opposing tendencies. 
 
 Henry HL studied his Commines and MachiavelH, 
 spun fine webs of policy and intrigue in his cabinet, 
 9
 
 114 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 but either failed to carry them out, or carried them 
 out in such a manner that they only damaged his 
 position. 
 
 For instance, the idea of counterbalancing the 
 power of the great nobles by raising to an equality 
 with them, men who should owe their fortune to his 
 favour was not impolitic. But Henry chose such 
 minions as Villequier, and the son-in-law of this 
 wife-murderer, the not less infamous D'O, recom- 
 mended only by a common taste for debauch- 
 ery. His great favourites, Epernon and Joyeuse 
 were indeed men of a different stamp ; the former 
 especially did him good service. But that service 
 was more than counterbalanced by the discredit 
 and the reputation for weakness which the King 
 incurred by his foolish fondness and profusion. 
 Almost everything depended on the personal im- 
 pression made by the King and on the practice of a 
 wise economy. But Henry HI. threw money away 
 with both hands, wasting it in frivolous, indecent, 
 but most costly feasts, squandering it on the minis- 
 ters of his pleasures, buying curiosities and precious 
 stones at absurd prices. 
 
 He was in many ways very jealous of his royal 
 dignity, and endeavoured to introduce into his Court 
 the stately ceremonial of Spanish etiquette. But 
 since this to some extent restricted the crowded 
 publicity in which the French kings had been accus- 
 tomed to pass their lives, the innovations he made 
 were generally unpopular; and the worst interpreta- 
 tion was put upon the King's supposed desire to 
 avoid the observation of his subjects. To a modern
 
 t586] The Protector of the Churches. 1 1 5 
 
 reader the regulations which he pubhshed do not 
 seem to indicate any morbid craving for solitude. 
 The cup of beef-tea, on which the King broke his 
 fast before leaving his bedroom, was to be borne in 
 procession by the chief physician, accompanied by 
 two chamberlains, one carrying bread, the other 
 water, and by the cup-bearer, followed by the Car- 
 dinals and Princes, the great officers of state and the 
 members of the council attending the Icvc'e. 
 
 On Mondays the King would hunt, on Wednes- 
 days ride his managed horses, on Thursdays and 
 Sundays play tennis or pall-mall in public. All day 
 long he was followed about by a crowd of courtiers; 
 at dinner a balustrade gave him the privacy of a 
 beast in a menagerie. At night when he retired 
 into his room, he found his " singing men discours- 
 ing music," and only after his boots were taken ofT, 
 he went into his cabinet, into which none might fol- 
 low but Epernon or Joyeuse bearing his bed candle. 
 
 But no elaboration of ceremonial could make his 
 subjects respect the person or policy of a King, who 
 — to mention his follies rather than his vices — 
 dressed more like a woman than a man, who kept 
 his council waiting for hours while he dressed his 
 wife's hair or starched her ruffs, who at a serious 
 crisis of his affairs found time to drive round Paris 
 and steal the ladies' lapdogs ; wdio gave solemn 
 audience to ambassadors with a basketful of puppies 
 slung from his neck by a broad silk ribbon ; who left 
 the reports of his ministers unread, while he re- 
 freshed his memory of the Latin Grammar ; who 
 introduced the fashion of playing Cup and Ball in
 
 1 1 6 Henry of Navarre. ti576- 
 
 season and out ; and whose devotions were hardly 
 more serious or more decent than his debaucheries. 
 
 He was soon so despised, that the dignity, the 
 grace and the fascination which were his when he 
 chose to assume them, lost all power. But indeed 
 at the best his dignity was too much that of an actor 
 on the stage, a hasty word or an aside would often 
 betray that it was only assumed for the occasion ; 
 his grace and fascination were those of a fawning, 
 cat-like beast, whose treacherous claws may at any 
 moment be darted into the flesh which it caresses. 
 
 The States-General had been summoned to meet 
 at Blois in December (1576). The League exerted 
 itself to the utmost to terrorise the elections, and it 
 was assisted by the whole influence of the govern- 
 ment. The Protestants and the Politicians, discon- 
 tented at the non-fulfilment of the terms of the 
 peace, and seeing that the Catholic associations and 
 the Crown nowhere allowed even a semblance of 
 freedom to the elections, held wholly aloof ; no 
 deputies of any of the Three Estates came from the 
 districts and towns which were in their power. 
 
 They expected that measures would be passed 
 fatal to their interests, and wished to leave no pre- 
 tence for describing the States-General of Blois as a 
 free and full meeting of the representatives of the 
 nation. Yet in so acting the Huguenots and their 
 allies made a grave mistake, since, notwithstanding 
 their abstention and the terrorism of the League, 
 only a bare majority of the Third Estate voted in 
 favour of restoring the unity of the faith by force ; 
 and that vote was rendered nugatory by the refusal
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 1 1 7 
 
 of the supplies without which war could not be suc- 
 cessfully waged. 
 
 As the proceedings went on, the members of the 
 lay Estates showed more and more aversion to the 
 League, and one of their number published a pam- 
 phlet in which he accused the Guises and other leaders 
 of the association of seeking only how they might 
 establish themselves as independent princes in their 
 respective provinces. 
 
 After obtaining all he wished by the treaty of 
 1576, Alengon had been at little pains to conceal his 
 dislike of his Protestant allies. He told his intimates 
 that to know the heretics was to hate them, that 
 La Noue was the only honest man in the whole set. 
 It was therefore easy for the friends of the King of 
 Navarre to establish his superior claim to be recog- 
 nised as the Protector of the Reformed Churches. 
 
 But although he had been publicly re-admitted 
 into the Calvinist communion (at Thouars or Niort, 
 in June, 1576), Henry did not without difficulty ob- 
 tain admission into the walls of La Rochelle. The 
 citizens could not forget that he had fought in the 
 ranks of their assailants and that even now there 
 were among his followers many who had taken an 
 active part in the massacre of St. Bartholomew's 
 Day. At length he was allowed to enter the Prot- 
 estant stronghold accompanied only by his sister 
 and a few Huguenot attendants, and when with tears 
 and ready emotion he deplored his enforced apostasy 
 before the assembled congregation, there seemed to 
 be no further reason to question the sincerity of his 
 religious convictions.
 
 1 1 8 Henry of Navarre. Wbi^ 
 
 From La Rochclle Henry journeyed through 
 Guienne to his hereditary dominions in the South. 
 The news which he received from Court made it clear 
 that the treaty so recently concluded was not even 
 to be a truce. La Noue, he wrote to Damville, had 
 been with him and had given him good and faithful 
 advice. It was the intention of their common enemies 
 to destroy them ; an intention only to be prevented 
 by their union. 
 
 While preparing for the impending storm, Henry 
 received at Agen (February, 1577) a deputation sent 
 by the estates of Blois, to express their regret that 
 he had not seen good to attend their session, and 
 their hope that he would assist their endeavours to 
 restore unity and peace to France. He was moved 
 to tears by the eloquence with which their spokes- 
 man, the Archbishop of Vienne, dwelt on the ca- 
 lamities which resistance to the King's commands 
 would entail on the country ; but replied, that the 
 evil advisers who persuaded his Majesty to break the 
 peace would be responsible for those sufferings. 
 They had urged him to embrace the true Catholic 
 faith ; as to that, his constant prayer to God was, 
 that if, as he believed, he held the true faith, he 
 might be confirmed in it, but if not, that He might 
 be pleased to enlighten him, and give him will and 
 power to drive all error not only from his own heart, 
 but also from his kingdom, and if possible from the 
 world ; — a declaration which showed no very stub- 
 born dogmatism, and not out of keeping with a 
 profession of faith made a few days earlier in a letter 
 to a Catholic friend. " Those who honestly follow
 
 1686J The Protector of the Churches. 119 
 
 their conscience are of my religion, and mine is that 
 of all brave and good men." Sentiments, laudable 
 in themselves ; yet such professed latitudinarianism 
 was unpalatable to the Calvinists, even before it 
 could be interpreted by the light of later events. 
 Yet, though on this as on other occasions Henry did 
 not forget to treat his enemies as if they might some 
 day be his friends, he was active in preparing for the 
 hostilities which ensued, and in carrying them on 
 when once begun. The m.an, he said, who after he 
 has put on his breastplate still loves his ease, had 
 better not meddle with war. 
 
 He had now for the first time an opportunity of 
 showing how far he possessed the qualities of a gen- 
 eral and a statesman ; that he was brave and clement 
 he had already given some proof. Entering the 
 small town of Eausse in his county of Armagnac, he 
 had been suddenly attacked with cries of " Aim at 
 the white plume," by two hundred or more fanatics, 
 who by dropping the portcullis behind him separated 
 him from his guards. Accompanied by only four 
 gentlemen, the King charged his assailants with such 
 vigour that he was able to reach the porch of a house, 
 where with his companions he kept his enemies at 
 bay till his followers had scaled the walls. When 
 master of the town, he forbade all reprisals, ajuLpaiy 
 allowed the punishment of two or three of the'ring- 
 leaders. 
 
 Among the four who fought at Eausse by the side 
 of Henry of Bourbon, were two young men whose 
 names and renown are closely connected with that 
 of their master : Philip de Mornay, Lord of Le
 
 1 20 Henry of Navarre. [1S76- 
 
 Plessis-Marly, and Maximilian dc B^thune, Baron of 
 Rosny. 
 
 Philip de Mornay was born in 1549. Destined by 
 hjs Catholic father for the Church, he matriculated, 
 when eight years old, at the College of Lisieux in the 
 University of Paris. Two years later his father died, 
 and his education devolved on his mother, a Cal- 
 vinist. Her care and circumstances combined to 
 give him the training best suited to fit him for the 
 part he was destined to play. He visited Geneva, 
 he studied at Heidelberg and Padua, he travelled in 
 Germany and Italy and the Low Countries. He 
 was equally versed in books and in the manners and 
 cities of men, in the accomplishments of a scholar, 
 and of a soldier and statesman. 
 
 In his twenty-third year he submitted to Coligny 
 a memorandum on the state of the Low Countries, 
 which determined the Admiral to send him as con- 
 fidential envoy to the Prince of Orange. The massacre 
 prevented this mission with the other plans of the 
 Protestant leader. 
 
 Mornay escaped immediate death by the humanity 
 of his Catholic host. Disdaining the proffered pro- 
 tection of the Guises, he made his way by prudence 
 and good luck to the coast and crossed over into 
 England, wheie the warm recommendations of Wal- 
 singham obtained for him a favourable reception at 
 Court and the confidence of the Queen's advisers. 
 Recalled to France by La Noue, Mornay had taken 
 part in the negotiations between Cond^, Alencon 
 and the Germans, and in the following campaign. 
 In the midst of the bustle of diplomacy and war he
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 121 
 
 found time to woo and wed Charlotte Arbaleste, a 
 young Protestant widow, well fitted by her talents 
 and character to be the worthy partner of his life 
 and thoughts. 
 
 After the conclusion of the Peace of Monsieur, 
 Mornay joined the King of Navarre, and was at once 
 admitted into his council, where his intimate ac- 
 quaintance with foreign courts and countries was of 
 the greatest service. A manifesto, in which Henry 
 justified his conduct, his attitude to the Estates, and 
 his warlike preparations was the first of that admi- 
 rable series of state papers written by Mornay, 
 remarkable alike for their lucidity, dignity and 
 moderation, which did much to raise the reputation 
 of the King of Navarre in Europe as well as in France. 
 
 At Eausse he proved that he was as ready with 
 his sword as with his pen, and although his exploits 
 as a soldier were obscured by his renown as a states- 
 man, the King had little reason to boast in his off- 
 hand way, when on a later occasion Mornay had 
 done some notable service, " that he knew in case of 
 need how to turn even an inkhorn into a captain." 
 Not men only of the moderate party, such as I'Estoile 
 and De Thou, but Leaguers who continued French- 
 men, like Jeannin and Villeroy, sought the friend- 
 ship of Du Plessis-Mornay, and the verdict of his 
 contemporaries has been confirmed by posterity. 
 " Even in the caricature of the Hcnriadc, where the 
 figures of the wars of religion are set up in gilt 
 gingerbread in the taste of the Grand Sitcle, the noble 
 lineaments of the Calvinist gentleman stand out as 
 if incapable of disfigurement." " If," says a clear-
 
 122 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 sighted though fanciful French historian, " if virtue 
 had a home on earth, it was in the heart of Mor- 
 nay." 
 
 Very different was the character and the am- 
 biguous reputation of Maximilian de Bethune, 
 Baron of Rosny, better known to posterity as Duke 
 of Sully. Like Du Plessis-Mornay, he had narrowly 
 escaped the massacre of 1572, partly by good-for- 
 tune, partly by a presence of mind remarkable in a boy 
 barely thirteen years old. A student at the College 
 of Burgundy he had, warned of his danger by the 
 master of the house in which he lodged, put on his 
 academical dress, and breviary in hand passed unmo- 
 lested through the scene of bloodshed till he found 
 shelter in the house of the rector of his college. 
 
 As soon as it was safe to do so he sought out and 
 attached himself by his father's orders to the King 
 of Navarre and followed his fortunes when he 
 escaped from Paris. 
 
 The number of portraits extant often only in- 
 creases the difficulty of forming a consistent con- 
 ception of the features of the dead, and the fact that 
 the character of Rosny has been sketched from the 
 most various points of view, does not enable us to 
 
 V pronounce judgment with greater confidence on the 
 minister of Henry IV. 
 
 He was disliked by the Catholics as a Protestant, 
 who nevertheless reached the highest position in the 
 state ; the Huguenots suspected the sincerity of a 
 believer who constantly preferred the interests of 
 the monarchy to those of his sect, who approved or 
 even urged his master's perversion, who was the
 
 1686] The Protector of the CJiurches. 123 
 
 rival of Du Plessis-Morna}^ the friend of Dii Perron, 
 the ex-Huguenot, court divine and sophist. 
 
 The whole tribe of courtiers, place-hunters and 
 publicans hated the man who was so austere a guar- 
 dian of the public purse, and who, while ruthlessly 
 reforming the abuses and peculations by which they 
 trusted to become rich, himself amassed a colossal 
 fortune. The lawyers could not pardon the disre- 
 gard which Sully showed more than once for the 
 authority and the pretensions of the Parliaments. 
 Just or unjust, the King's will, he said, was law. 
 Men of letters were estranged by the economy 
 which checked the not too generous flow of the 
 King's bounty. All ^like were offended by rude and 
 overbearing manners. Not only was Sully obstinate 
 in saying no, but he never cared to take the edge 
 off a rebuff by any softness or flattery in word or 
 manner. 
 
 Though honest, Rosny was not disinterested ; un- 
 like Du Plessis-Mornay, who " put no farthing in his 
 purse and acquired no inch of land," he grew rich 
 in the service of his master. Even the war, to carry 
 on which many Protestant nobles mortgaged their es- 
 tates and cut down their timber, was to him a source 
 of profit. In the escalade of La R6ole, one of his 
 earliest exploits, he gained booty worth 1,000 crowns ; 
 from the sack of Cahors he carried off a strong-box 
 containing four times as much ; when the royalists 
 stormed the Faubourg St. Germain, he laid his 
 hands on some 3,000 crowns ; during the siege of 
 Louviers, on as many more. As if guided by some 
 unerring instinct, he found his way to treasure with-
 
 124 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 out the help of any divining rod. It has been re- 
 marked, and with truth, that though an excellent 
 man of business, Sully was no financial genius. He 
 looked upon the King's far-seeing attempts to en- 
 courage arts and manufactures, much as an old 
 fashioned and parsimonious bailiff would regard his 
 master's costly experiments in scientific farming. 
 But the evils which he w-as called upon to remedy 
 were gross and patent. To deal with them in his 
 common-sense fashion, needed only plain honesty, 
 unwearying industry, power of comprehending 
 minute and intricate details, combined with great 
 capacity for organisation and a most determined 
 and relentless persistence. These qualities may not 
 amount to genius ; but their combination in such 
 perfection is rarer than any genius ; and the man 
 who possessed them was invaluable to a prince called 
 upon to rule a country perishing, not because it 
 needed a revolution or the reconstruction of its in- 
 stitutions, but because those which it possessed were 
 threatening ruin from neglect, or so choked and en- 
 cumbered by abuses that they no longer performed 
 any useful functions. Nor are other reasons want- 
 ing which account for the favour shown to Sully by 
 Henry IV. He was his faithful and constant com- 
 panion in arms. At Coutras, Arques, Ivry, Aumale, 
 Rouen, Amiens, in a hundred nameless skirmishes 
 he fought, "as headlong," said the King, " as a cock- 
 chafer," with a fiery valour surprising in a man of 
 cold and calculating character. Sully moreover 
 combined a courtier's pliability with great outward 
 frankness, and even roughness of bearing in council.
 
 1586] The P7^otecto7'- of the C J Lurches. 125 
 
 for Henry, who justly prided himself on the patience 
 with which he accepted rebuke, and listened to un- 
 palatable advice, was often flattered rather than irri- 
 tated by contradiction. He did not refuse services 
 which the more austere integrity of Du Plessis-Mor- 
 nay declined. When, for instance, Henry desired 
 to obtain possession of a promise of marriage ex- 
 changed between his hardly used sister Catherine 
 and her cousin the Count of Soissons, Rosny spared 
 no artifice or lie till he had deceived the lovers into 
 entrusting the precious document to his keeping. 
 While, therefore. Sully, an exile from power, found 
 solace and dignity in the vast fortune of which the 
 foundation had been laid by horse-coping at the 
 Court of Pau, what other reward could virtue such 
 as Mornay's expect than to be praised and starve ? 
 
 During the first part of the 17th century, Sully's 
 reputation was depressed by his personal unpopu- 
 larity ; during the second half it was, like that of his 
 master, obscured by the rising sun of Lewis XIV. 
 But the eclipse and darkness in which that sun set, 
 led men to reflect on the different course of events 
 during the reign of his grandfather, when each year 
 saw some increase in the security, strength and pros- 
 perity of the country. Moreover, the exaggerated 
 mercantilism of Colbert provoked a violent reaction, 
 and those economists who held the land to be the 
 true source of wealth, extolled the wisdom of the 
 minister who had proclaimed pastoral and arable 
 farming to be the breasts from which the whole sus- 
 tenance of the country must be drawn. Unlikely 
 as it may appear to the reader of that amazing and
 
 126 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 mendacious compilation of pompous egotism, Sul- 
 ly's Memoirs have also exaggerated his posthumous 
 fame ; historians have largely used them as a valu- 
 able contemporary authority, and have in many 
 cases, half unconsciously, adopted the view of his 
 actions, the estimate of his importance, which he 
 wished to prevail. 
 
 The Estates, though ready to vote resolutions 
 urging the restoration of the unity of the faith, ab- 
 solutely refused to sanction any further alienation 
 of the Crovm lands, or any other way of raising the re- 
 sources necessary for a vigorous campaign. They were 
 therefore dismissed by the King, who loudly expressed 
 his disappointment, but probably was well pleased 
 at the proved weakness of the party of the League. 
 Meantime hostilities had begun and were carried on 
 in a desultory fashion, though with some vigour and 
 much ferocity, to the disadvantage on the whole, of 
 the Huguenots, who were weakened by the defection 
 of Damville, now by his brother's death Duke of 
 Montmorency and head of his house. But his 
 example was not generally followed by the Catho- 
 lics of his party, nor even by his own family. His 
 brother Thore and his cousin Chatillon, the son of 
 Coligny, were on the point of attacking him under 
 the walls of Montpellier when news came that peace 
 had again been concluded. 
 
 The King of Navarre, who was not on good terms 
 with his cousin Conde, and whose little Court was 
 distracted by the enmities between his Protestant 
 and Catholic followers, listened readily to the pro. 
 posals of the King and Queen-Mother for a general 
 pacification.
 
 15861 The Protector of the Churches. 127 
 
 The Peace of Bergerac (September 17, 1577) was 
 based on a fair compromise. Protestant worship was 
 allowed in the towns then held by the confederates, 
 and in one town in each bailliagc and to the nobles 
 in their houses. The Protestants were to be fairly 
 represented in the law courts. Eight cautionary 
 fortresses garrisoned at the King's expense were 
 to be left in their hands for six years. All leagues 
 and secret associations were forbidden. This set- 
 tlement was gladly received by moderate men of 
 both parties ; it was honestly meant by the King, 
 and might have been lasting, but for the turbulent 
 ambition of the House of Lorraine, the intrigues of 
 Philip II. and the influence of events in other parts 
 of Europe. 
 
 If he could not compel the Protestants to con- 
 form, Henry III. wished to keep on good terms with 
 them ; since he and they had the same enemies, 
 Spain and the Guises. The subsequent infractions 
 of the edict of which the Huguenots loudly and 
 justly complained, were due, not so much to the bad 
 faith of the King, as to the disobedience of govern- 
 ors who, like Montmorency in Languedoc, or Guise 
 in Burgundy, acted as if independent sovereigns, 
 and to the fanaticism of the populace encouraged 
 by the stubborn ill-will of the law courts. When 
 their own leade-r succeeded to the throne, the Prot- 
 estants found that their position was not bettered, 
 and looked back to the years which followed the 
 Peace of Bergerac as to the time when on the whole 
 their condition had been most tolerable " for good 
 but ill, for ill yet passing good."
 
 128 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 The King of Navarre as Protector of the Reformed 
 Churches was zealous in calling the attention of the 
 Government to their grievances; and not less im- 
 portunate in demanding the payment of his wife's 
 dower, and in protesting against the sequestration 
 of the revenues of his wide domains in the north 
 and centre of France. 
 
 To satisfy his clamis and to settle the points still 
 in dispute, Catherine de' Medici accompanied her 
 daughter to the Court of Navarre, rejoicing in an 
 opportunity of diplomatic intrigue and trickery. 
 Margaret of Valois was not sorry to rejoin her hus- 
 band; she hated her brother Henry III., and had 
 chosen her lovers from among the favourites of the 
 Duke of Anjou, between whom and the King's 
 minions insults, broils and duels were of constant 
 occurrence. 
 
 With the two Queens came a bevy of ladies, 
 among them Madame de Sauves, a woman who had 
 given Henry of Bourbon some early lessons in prof- 
 ligacy. It was not without reason, that when writ- 
 ing to ask the Huguenots to send representatives to 
 assist him at the approaching conferences he also 
 bade them " pray God to fortify him with sobriety 
 and prudence, in order that he might withstand the 
 wiles and artifices of those who are plotting the ruin 
 of the churches." 
 
 Catherine remained eighteen months with her 
 daugnter and son-in-law. He fell in love with one 
 of her girls, Cond6 with another, the Viscount of 
 Turenne, the most powerful of the Protestant nobles, 
 devoted himself to the Queen of Navarre. This was
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches, 129 
 
 what the Queen-Mother had hoped, her main object 
 being to sow dissension between the King of Na- 
 varre, the Prince and Turenne, and to prevent any 
 close understanding between Margaret and her hus- 
 band. The Florentine was so far successful that 
 Henry and his young courtiers yielded at once to 
 the allurements of her " flying squadron." Even an 
 old and sober Calvinist captain, a pillar of the Church, 
 was seduced by one of these girls to betray La R^ole, 
 an important Huguenot stronghold. The King of 
 Navarre heard of this treachery when entertaining 
 the Queen-Mother with a ball at Auch. He silently 
 slipped from the room, summoned a few trusty com- 
 panions and before morning escaladed Fleurance, a 
 small town in the neighbourhood, held by a garrison 
 of French troops. Catherine when she heard of the 
 exploit, only laughed : " It is his revenge for La 
 R^ole ; cabbage for cabbage, but mine has the better 
 heart." 
 
 The Queen-Mother was disappointed in her hope 
 of profiting by the estrangement of her daughter and 
 son-in-law. Margaret even encouraged her husband's 
 gallantries and taught him to tolerate her own. 
 Thoroughly acquainted with the objects and methods 
 of her mother's policy, she gave him advice which 
 though inspired by base motives was in itself useful. 
 
 Catherine's negotiations ended with a promise of 
 further securities to the Huguenots and of the com- 
 plete redress of their grievances. The non-fulfilment 
 of this promise was one of the pretexts of a futile 
 .resumption of hostilities by the King of Navarre in 
 1580 — the so-called Lover's Cour--of which LaNoue 
 
 9
 
 1 30 Henry of Navarre. ti576- 
 
 and the most sober Protestants disapproved, and in 
 which La Rochelle and other towns refused to take 
 any part. The desultory campaign which followed 
 only deserves mention for an opportunity it gave 
 Henry of conspicuously displaying that valour, not 
 less obstinate than fiery, which so greatly impressed 
 the imagination of his countrymen and established 
 his influence and popularity among the warlike gen- 
 try of both religions. 
 
 He had never been able to obtain possession of the 
 district of Quercy which had been settled on Margaret 
 of Valois as her dower. The inhabitants of Cahors, 
 the capital of Quercy, had been notorious usurers 
 during the Middle Ages, and the town was still pros- 
 perous and wealthy. Defended by strong walls, by 
 a garrison of 1,500 men, under a brave and trust- 
 worthy governor and still more by its position, for 
 the narrow and steep streets wind up to the summit 
 of a bold rock surrounded on three sides by a bend 
 of the river Lot, Cahors appeared to defy any sudden 
 assault. 
 
 Henry, who was at Montauban, marched thirty 
 miles under a scorching summer sun with a force not 
 more numerous than the garrison ; and at nightfall 
 approached Cahors under cover of the thick groves 
 of walnut trees which grew close to where the road 
 from Montauban entered the town by a bridge de- 
 fended by two gates and other outworks. A heavy 
 storm favoured the surprise. Even the explosion of 
 the petards by which the gates were blown in was 
 mistaken by many for a peal of thunder. But it 
 was after ihey had penetrated into the town that the
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 131 
 
 assailants realised the full difficulty of their enterprise. 
 The garrison was zealously assisted by the towns- 
 people, fanatical Catholics, who feared the punish- 
 ment of atrocities perpetrated on Huguenot fellow- 
 citizens. Every house was a fortress, every steep 
 and narrow street a barricaded and well defended 
 pass. For five days and nights the conflict was con- 
 tinued, amid an indescribable scene of uproar and 
 confusion — ^clash of swords, clanging of bells, volleys 
 of firearms, roar of burning houses, shouts of fight- 
 ing men and shrieks of women and children. Spent 
 with blows, worn out with want of sleep, their 
 armour battered, their feet sore and bleeding, almost 
 all wounded or bruised by missiles thrown from the 
 housetops, those around Henry urged him whilst 
 there was yet time to retire from so unequal a con- 
 test ; especially since they were not sufficiently 
 ■numerous to occupy the gates and to prevent rein- 
 forcements reaching the garrison. But he obstinate- 
 ly refused, and at length his perseverence overcame 
 the resolution of his opponents and the sack of the 
 town rewarded the constancy of his followers. 
 
 The capture ofCahors spread dismay among the 
 Catholic towns of the South. Toulouse already saw 
 before her gates the avenger of the innocent blood 
 so often shed in her streets. 
 
 Henceforward none were disposed to laugh at 
 Henry of Bourbon ; but the establishment beyond 
 all cavil of his reputation as a fearless and adven- 
 turous soldier was all that he gained by his brilliant 
 feat of arms. The Huguenots, even had they been 
 more unanimous would have been no match for
 
 132 Henry of Navarre. [t576- 
 
 three powerful armies sent against them by the 
 King. That Henry III. consented to treat, and that 
 the conferences held at Fleix in P^rigord were fol- 
 lowed by a treaty confirming all previous concessions 
 to the Reformers and to their leader, seems some 
 proof that the King was sincerely desirous of peace. 
 No doubt also the exhaustion of his finances, the 
 ravages of a virulent epidemic, which is said to have 
 carried off 30,000 victims in Paris alone, the renewed 
 intrigues of Spain and the importunity of his 
 brother and mother, again absorbed by ambitious 
 projects in the Low Countries, inclined him to mod- 
 eration. 
 
 Henry HI. succeeded in putting an end to the 
 civil strife which desolated his kingdom, but he 
 failed to use the respite which he obtained so as to 
 guard against future troubles. L'Estoile certainly 
 exaggerates when he complains that nothing could 
 have been more perverse and monstrous than the 
 government ; that the care of the finances was en- 
 trusted to the greatest knaves, of the army to the 
 greatest cowards, of the provinces to the greatest 
 fools. But his testimony is valuable- because it shows 
 how completely Henry HI. failed to secure the con- 
 fidence of that moderate party on whose support his 
 strength depended, and whose opinions are faithfully 
 reflected by the Parisian diarist. 
 
 An edict embodying many useful reforms was 
 published in 1580. The remark of the same writer 
 that this, like all others of the kind, might have 
 been endorsed, " Good only for three days," is 
 borne out by the preamble to another ordinance of
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 133 
 
 1583, which complains that licence, disorder and 
 confusion have so grown, that hardly a trace of old- 
 fashioned integrity remains. 
 
 While the reputation of the King of France was 
 sinking, the King of Navarre was rising in public 
 estimation. No doubt there were vices and follies, 
 intrigues and factions enough and to spare at the 
 little Court of Nerac or Pau, where, says Aubigne, 
 " we were all lovers together," and where the preten- 
 tious solemnity of Sully owns'that in the soft south- 
 ern nights and under the pleasant shade of garden 
 walks planted with bay and cypress by Margaret of 
 Angouleme, the only converse among courtiers and 
 ladies was of love and of the delights to which it 
 leads. 
 
 " Our Court," Queen Margaret boasts in hev 
 memoirs, " was so fair and agreeable that we did not 
 envy that of France. ... I had around me 
 many ladies and maids in waiting, and the King 
 my husband was attended by a gallant following of 
 lords and gentlemen ... in whom there was 
 no fault to be found except that they were Hugue- 
 nots." If Margaret could find no fault in her hus- 
 band's courtiers except their religion, we may be 
 certain that religion sat but lightly on them. 
 
 The negotiation of the Peace of Fleix was the pre- 
 text of a visit of several months paid by the Duke 
 of Anjou with his train of rou^s and bravos to his 
 brother-in-law and sister. Anjou, who had a monkey, 
 like aptitude for mischief annoying to others though 
 profitless to himself, succeeded in destroying the 
 good understanding based on mutual toleration
 
 134 Henry of Navarre. ti576- 
 
 which had so far existed between the King and 
 Queen of Navarre. It must also be allowed that 
 Henry showed a cynical indelicacy in the demands 
 he made on his wife's complaisance. 
 
 In 1 581 Margaret left her husband's Court, on the 
 pretext of a visit to her mother, whose tenderness 
 could no longer endure so protracted a separation. 
 
 Aubigne contrasts the virtue of the Court of Na- 
 varre with the licence of that of France. There the 
 greatest were proud to minister to the King's foulest 
 pleasures ; at Pau, Henry's mistress, the Countess of 
 Grammont, was neglected. Yet some credit is due 
 to this lady, if, after his wife had left him, the King's 
 life became more decorous. She is popularly known 
 as the mistress to whom he sacrificed the fruits of the 
 victory of Coutras. Yet it is possible that without 
 her Coutras might neither have been fought nor won. 
 Diana, or, as she was commonly called, Corisande 
 d'Andouins, widow of Philibert de Guiche, Count of 
 Grammont, was a year or two older than her royal 
 lover. Of the three women who so influenced his life 
 that it is impossible to pass them by in silence, the 
 Countess of Grammont was the most respectable. 
 She stimulated the ambition of Henry, assisted him 
 with her fortune, and shared his councils, nor, though 
 a Catholic, disliked and suspected by the Protestants, 
 has her fidelity been seriously impugned. Her posi- 
 tion, that of a widow who had formed a lasting con- 
 nection with a prince separated from his wife, was 
 not one which in those days appeared other than 
 honourable, nor did the King scruple to entrust his 
 sister Catherine to her care.
 
 1986] The Protector of the Churches. 135 
 
 Henry was always anxious to marry his mistress 
 for the time being, a proof that the reiterated and 
 passionate protestations of constancy in which his 
 letters abound, were not wholly insincere. Tossed 
 by fate, ever in the saddle, not less restless by choice 
 in his amusements than by necessity in the business 
 of life, he had a strong yearning for the quiet joys 
 and repose of home. 
 
 Aubigne tells us that his master charged him on 
 his allegiance to give him true advice ; and then, 
 after citing thirty instances of princes who had mar- 
 ried subjects, said that he had promised his hand to 
 the Countess of Grammont in case he should, as he 
 hoped, obtain a divorce from Margaret. If we may 
 believe the garrulous vanity of the Huguenot his- 
 torian's old age, he replied that his master, must 
 remember that he had three parts to play, as King 
 of Navarre, as heir to the Crown of France, as Pro- 
 tector of the Churches, that in each character he was 
 served by a different set of followers, who expected 
 a different payment. The servants of the King of 
 Navarre and of the Dauphin of France looked for 
 honours and temporal rewards, either in the present 
 or the future ; the wages of those who followed the 
 Protector of the Churches were less easily paid by a 
 prince, for if in some things they were his servants, 
 in others they were his fellows and for sharing his 
 dangers they asked to be repaid by his zeal, by his 
 noble actions, his virtues. Aubign6 did not suppose, 
 so he continued, that hating books as he did, the 
 King had himself collected the mischievous examples 
 he alleged, but he must remember how very different
 
 136 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 the position of those princes had been from his own. 
 He need not give up his love — this concession from 
 a sincere Calvinist is notable — but let him serve and 
 honour his mistress by living worthily. 
 
 During the long visit paid by Margaret after 1581 
 to the French Court, the emnity between her and 
 Henry HI. increased. Provoked by her intrigues 
 and her malice, the King avenged himself by pub- 
 lishing and exaggerating the scandals of her life. 
 He came up to her at a ball in the Louvre and with 
 loud anger enumerated her lovers and dalliances, 
 reproached her with the birth of a bastard child, and 
 bade her rejoin her husband ; she might live more 
 decently with him, than where her presence was 
 both scandalous and mischievous. After so intoler- 
 able an affront the Queen of Navarre hurried from 
 Paris, exclaiming that she and Mary of Scots were 
 the most wretched among women, that she wished 
 some one would end her miserable life ; but such for- 
 tune was too good for her, she had neither friends 
 nor enemies. Her husband refused to receive her. 
 If the charges made against her were true she was 
 not fit to be his wife, if they were false his honour 
 required that her brother should w^ithdraw and apolo- 
 gise for calumnies so atrocious, for an insult so 
 humiliating. Aubign^, and then, with further pow- 
 ers, Du Plessis-Mornay, were sent to remonstrate 
 with Henry HI. on the want of consideration he had 
 shown for their master's honour. Apparently, 
 Henry HI. repented of his haste. He made a half 
 apology, he begged his brother-in-law not to take 
 the matter too much to heart. The most virtuous
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 137 
 
 princesses were subject to such calumnies ; he re- 
 minded him of old scandals which had been current 
 even about his mother the pious Jane of Albret. 
 " His Majesty," laughed the Bearnese, " does me too 
 
 much honour; he tells me I am a , by way of 
 
 excuse for calling my wife a wh — ." 
 
 But neither Prince wished to quarrel ; Navarre 
 expressed some willingness to receive his wife back, 
 if only the royal garrisons were withdrawn from his 
 frontiers, so that he might not appear to be acting 
 under compulsion, and he claimed credit for rejecting 
 the large offers made by Philip II.— the hand of the 
 Infanta Isabella, after Spanish influence at the Vati- 
 can should have o-btained for him a divorce from his 
 dishonoured wife, and powerful assistance in money 
 and men against all enemies if only he would abjure 
 his heresy. Nor can it be doubted that Philip II. 
 was sincere in making these advances. He was discon- 
 tented with the conduct of the Guises and eager to 
 aveng-e himself for the interference of France in the 
 Low Countries. 
 
 Henry III. expressed his gratitude to his brother- 
 in-law, sanctioned the continued occupation by the 
 Protestants of their places of security ; and! when the 
 uncertainty of the succession in the event of Anjou's 
 death was mentioned, showed surprise that the mat- 
 ter should be discussed as if open to question. The 
 King of Navarre, a prince of exalted birth and good 
 parts, whom he loved, was his natural heir. " I 
 know," he said to the Provost of Paris, " that some 
 are trying to supplant him, but I shall take good 
 care to prevent them from succeeding"; as for the
 
 138 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 Cardinal of Bourbon who hoped to step into his 
 nephew's shoes, he was an old fool. When Anjou 
 was dying (May, 1584), Epernon was sent with a 
 sumptuous retinue to invite the King of Navarre to 
 come to Court to take his place as heir-apparent — 
 after first hearing a Mass. The Catholics about him 
 had for some time been urging him to remove by his 
 conversion the only obstacle to his universal recog- 
 nition as heir to the French throne. 
 
 Menry reminded his cousin, the young Cardinal of 
 Vendome, that a man's religion, could not be put off 
 and on like his shirt. However lightly he held by 
 his creed he may well have thought that there was 
 as much to be lost as gained by sacrificing it at this 
 moment.] 
 
 Epernon was therefore answered with protestations 
 of gratitude and loyalty — of readiness to receive 
 instruction or to submit to the decision of a free and 
 universal council ; but the King of Navarre showed 
 no eagerness to accept the invitation to Court, and 
 still less to go straightway to Mass. 
 
 Yet the fact that the legitimate heir to the throne 
 was a heretic made the renewal of the civil war in- 
 evitable. Even if all the means which the gold of 
 Spain, the intrigues of the Jesuits and the ambition 
 of the Guises could set in motion or suggest to excite 
 the alarm and stimulate the fanaticism of the popu- 
 lace had not been employed, it is not likely that the 
 Catholic majority would quietly have submitted to 
 the rule of a Calvinist king. In England and else- 
 where they had seen the religion of the country fol- 
 low the creed of the prince. The intimate connec-
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 139 
 
 tion of the State and of the orthodox Church was 
 held to be a fundamental law of the monarchy. 
 Even moderate men, who were willing that the 
 Huguenots should be tolerated, were alarmed at the 
 prospect of their domination. 
 
 These feelings were shared by Henry HI. Though 
 it had little influence on his life, he was more sin- 
 cerely attached to his religion than Henry of Guise, 
 or Henry of Bourbon ; for the former was suspected 
 by those who knew him best to be a Lutheran at 
 heart, and the latter, like James I. of England, 
 believed that faith in God is suf^cient to save a man 
 let him belong to what sect he may ; although there 
 is no reason to doubt, that, as he told the historian 
 De Thou five years later, he held the one in which he 
 had been bred to be the truest and the best. 
 
 A rapid glance at the condition of the general 
 conflict between Protestantism and Catholicism will 
 explain the impatience with which Philip H. and 
 his clerical allies saw France gradually settling down 
 into something like tranquillity. In England, the plots 
 for assassinating the queen, although approved by 
 the Pope and encouraged by the promise of Spanish 
 gold and honours, had failed, as well as the schemes 
 of domestic rebellion and foreign invasion organised 
 by the Spanish ambassador against the sovereign to 
 whom he was accredited ; and the abrupt expulsion 
 of Don Bernardino de Mendoza made it clear that 
 open war between the two countries could not much 
 longer be avoided. 
 
 In the Low Countries there seemed little hope 
 that without foreign help tlie exhaustion of the
 
 140 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 States would be able to resist the skill and energy 
 of Alexander Farnese ; even before the murder of 
 Orange, an English envoy had reported " that the 
 cause was panting and all but dead." Dendermonde 
 and Ghent had opened their gates to the Spanish 
 troops already closing round Antwerp. In Germany 
 the conversion of the Archbishop of Cologne would, 
 if he could maintain himself, give a majority in the 
 Electoral College to the Reformers ; but in the South 
 the Catholic reaction was making rapid progress, 
 supported by the Emperor Rudolf, who had been 
 educated at the Court of Spain, and who resembled 
 in nothing his wise and tolerant father Maximilian II. 
 
 An eminent English historian believes that after 
 the death of Orange, Henry III., could he have 
 trusted Elizabeth, was willing to defy Spain and the 
 League, to place Henry of Navarre at the head of 
 his army and in close alliance with England, to fall 
 with all his forces on the Duke of Parma. He would 
 thus have secured the active co-operation of the King 
 of Denmark and of the Elector Palatine, the Arch- 
 bishop of Cologne would have been maintained in 
 his electorate, and at the next vacancy the Imperial 
 crown might have passed from the House of Haps- 
 burg. 
 
 We must doubt whether even if he had been will- 
 ing to break so completely with his past, to overcome 
 his own prejudices and predilections, Henry HI. 
 could have taken up and carried out on a bolder 
 scale the policy of Coligny. Not the Guises only, 
 but his mother, his favourites, the ambitious Eper- 
 non not less than the Catholic Joyeuse, would have
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 141 
 
 resisted to the uttermost, strong in the support of 
 populace and church, a course of action which would 
 have thrown all power into the hands of the heretic 
 heir and his followers. Yet there was much in the 
 conduct of the King well calculated to excite the 
 alarm of the Catholic and Spanish party. After the 
 death of his brother he publicly recognised the King 
 of Navarre as his successor, and announced his inten- 
 tion of bestowing upon him the duchy of Alen^on, 
 which had lapsed to the crown. An embassy bring- 
 ing from Elizabeth the insignia of the Garter was 
 received with the utmost cordiality and magnificence, 
 and the King showed himself in public wearing the 
 badge sent by an excommunicated heretic. The 
 envoys who came to offer the sovereignty of the 
 Low Countries obtained, it is true, little but gold 
 chains and fair words, yet the Austrian Resident 
 assured his master that the active intervention of 
 France was daily expected. 
 
 Parma, who dreaded a diversion which might 
 compel him to raise the siege of Antwerp, joined 
 with Mendoza in urging the League and the Guises 
 to action. On January 15, 1585, a formal treaty was 
 signed at Joinville by the Dukes of Guise and May- 
 enne in their own name and that of their family, by 
 a representative of the Cardinal of Bourbon and by 
 the Spanish agents Tassis and Moreo. Since no 
 heretic might ascend the French throne, it was agreed 
 that in the event of the death of Henry IIL, the 
 Cardinal of Bourbon should be proclaimed king. 
 The contracting parties bound themselves to do their 
 utmost to extirpate heresy, both in France and in 
 
 ;
 
 142 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 the Low Countries. The King of Spain promised a 
 subvention of 1,000,000 crowns for the first year, in 
 return for which the French princes undertook to 
 place him in possession of Cambray, to prevent 
 French privateers from preying on Spanish com- 
 merce, to hand over to him Don Antonio, the pre- 
 tender to the Portuguese Crown, who had found a 
 refuge in France, and to renounce all further alliance 
 with the Turks. 
 
 The Guises had now secured the co-operation of 
 Spain by a formal document ; the preparations of 
 their party at home were also well advanced. The 
 weakness of the League at the time of the States- 
 General of 1576-77 had been conspicuous and unex- 
 pected. It was not till after the death of Alengon, 
 when the thought that the heir-apparent of the 
 crown was a heretic thrilled Catholic France with 
 horror, that it again started into new and vigorous 
 life, and received that form and organisation which 
 identified it with popular passions and aspirations, 
 as well as with feudal and dynastic ambition, and 
 which enabled it in close alliance with Spain to bring 
 France to the very verge of ruin. 
 V Paris was the heart of this organisation. The 
 capital was divided into five districts under five 
 leaders, who with eleven others formed the supreme 
 council, the notorious Sixteen. These men were for 
 the most part lawyers and tradesmen of middling 
 condition, but distinguished for fanatical zeal and 
 party spirit, well suited to be the instruments of 
 cooler and, if not more scrupulous, yet higher placed 
 and more cautious ambition. The parish clergy, the
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 143 
 
 friars and the Jesuits vied in the violence of their 
 sermons. Terror and pity were aHke employed to 
 excite the mob. A hundred pulpits re-echoed with 
 the legend of the virtues and sufferings of the sainted 
 Queen of Scots, whose charms and innocence v/ere 
 in the eyes of her votaries beyond the reach of 
 calumny and years. Great pictures were exposed in 
 the cemeteries and public places, exhibiting the tor- 
 tures inflicted on Catholic martyrs by the English 
 Jezebel, the close ally of the Most Christian King, 
 under whose heretic heir the faithful in France must 
 expect the like treatment. Nay, they need not hope 
 for so long a respite ; ten thousand armed Hugue- 
 nots, it was confidently reported, were already lurk- 
 ing in the Faubourg St. Germain, awaiting a signal 
 to massacre the Christian people of Paris. To guard 
 against such dangers, the council of the League were 
 diligent in buying arms and in drilling the stoutest 
 of their adherents. 
 
 Encouraged by the approbation of the Pope, the 
 confederates published their manifesto (March 30, 
 1585). They declared that they were prepared to 
 draw the sword to restore the dignity and unity of 
 the Church, to secure to the nobility their ancient 
 privileges, to relieve the people from all new taxes 
 imposed since the reign of Charles IX., to drive 
 unworthy favourites and advisers from Court, to 
 prevent future troubles by settling the succession, 
 and to provide for regular meetings of the States- 
 General. Until they should have attained these 
 objects, they, princes of the blood, cardinals, and 
 other princes, peers, prelates, ofificers of the Crown,
 
 144 Henry of Navarre. [1576- 
 
 governors of provinces, lords and gentlemen, together 
 with sundry good towns and corporations, constitut- 
 ing the best and soundest part of the realm, swore 
 to hold together and persevere " until they should 
 be heaped one upon another in the tomb reserved 
 for the last Frenchmen fallen in the service of their 
 God and country." Then followed a list of the 
 leaders, the Cardinal Charles of Bourbon, " first 
 Prince of the Blood," the Dukes of Lorraine and 
 Guise, "lieutenant generals of the League," and 
 the names of the Xing of Spain and other Catholic 
 sovereigns. 
 
 The King seemed at first disposed to resent this 
 bold defiance of his authority. Epernon, never 
 wanting in audacity, and who had devoted some of 
 the money lavished upon him to secure the services 
 of a considerable body of mercenaries, urged him to 
 lose no moment in replying to so insolent a challenge. 
 Montmorency the governor, or rather sovereign, of 
 Languedoc, was to be surely counted upon in a 
 struggle against Lorraine and Spain, and would be 
 followed by the moderate party. For every man 
 whom his enemies could hope to enlist among the 
 Swiss, two would hasten to the standard of the King 
 of France. Nor was it likely that the majority of 
 the smaller nobles, the country gentry, who had 
 little to gain by the substitution of the nearer, more 
 invidious and oppressive authority of a feudal ruler 
 for that of the Crown, would forget their hereditary 
 loyalty any more than that the lawyers would aid to 
 overthrow the monarchy on which their own import- 
 ance depended. As for the Huguenot gentry and
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 145 
 
 towns, the King of Navarre was urgent in pressing 
 their services and that of his own small but excellent 
 army on the King. But Henry III., ever undecided, 
 averse to strenuous action and preferring middle 
 courses and the chances of diplomacy to war, closed 
 his ears to bolder councils and allowed himself to be 
 influenced by Joyeuse's Catholic fervour and jealousy 
 of Epernon and by the advice of his mother, who, 
 undeterred by gout, rheums and unwieldy bulk, 
 hurried from Paris to negotiate with the Guises. 
 Catherine had not become less pusillanimous with 
 age, and it had ever been her way to bend before 
 those who were in the ascendant, yielding everything 
 with the comfortable determination to break her 
 word as soon as it should be safe to do so. But on 
 this occasion, she was at heart a traitor to her 
 favourite son. 
 
 Like the rest of the world, she appears to have 
 made up her mind that the King must soon die, and 
 she had already survived so many of her children, 
 that it seemed to her a matter of course that she 
 should survive him. But to lose her power was un- 
 endurable, worse to see it pass into the hands of 
 Navarre. The old Cardinal of Bourbon was a nonen- 
 tity, a wine tun rather than a man, as Beza said, and 
 after his death Catherine hoped to secure the crown 
 for her daughter Claude, the wife of the Duke of 
 Lorraine, a prince of weak character, whom she 
 would easily control. Thus the Florentine, as if 
 immortal, spun her schemes with characteristic inca- 
 pacity to distinguish between what was and was not 
 possible. Easily alarmed by present difficulties, she
 
 146 Henry of Navarre. [1576 
 
 allowed her hopes to blind her to those still future. 
 
 Yet it was easy to foresee that the Guises would work 
 
 for their own aggrandisement and not for that of the 
 
 elder branch of their house ; and that if the Salic law 
 
 ^ was to be violated, Philip II. would not allow the 
 
 \ superior claims of the Infanta Isabella, the daughter 
 
 y of Claude's elder sister, to be passed over. 
 
 ^ After negotiations which lasted two months the 
 
 League presented an ultimatum. The King must 
 
 enforce unity of religion by an edict, which all the 
 
 princes, peers and parliaments, officers of the Crown, 
 
 governors of provinces and towns and other officials 
 
 should swear to observe. 
 
 Henry III. still hesitated. He had written to the 
 King of Navarre, warning him to be on his guard, 
 and adding that he was glad to hear that he was on 
 good terms with the Duke of Montmorency. He 
 had not himself been able to prevent the evil designs 
 of the Duke of Guise, but at any rate he would not 
 conclude any treaty with the League to the disad- 
 vantage of his lawful successor. The Queen of Eng- 
 land wrote a letter to the King of France, the vigor- 
 ous style of which so pleased Henry of Bourbon that 
 he sent a copy of it to his Corisande. " If you could 
 know, my dear brother, the pain and grief I feel at 
 the danger to which you expose yourself, I am 
 assured that you would believe that there is no 
 creature in this world on whose help you can more 
 surely rely than myself. Good God ! is it possible 
 that a great king can bend himself without reason 
 and against his honour to sue for peace to rebels and 
 traitors, and not at once cut off from them all oppor-
 
 
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 B^^Hhb^ '-jg.uf<\ ^S^K^Ml 
 
 
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 H^^^^^Hfl^^HB^^BBHl^^ °^ 
 
 1 
 
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 i^^F^ 
 
 CATHERINE DE' MEDICl.
 
 1586] The Protector of the Churches. 147 
 
 tunity of exalting themselves, compelling them by his 
 royal power to submit to the yoke of their deserts. 
 I marvel to see you thus betrayed in your council 
 and even by her, who of all the world is nearest to 
 you, and that you should be so blind as to tolerate 
 such villany . . . Alas ! think you that that cloke of 
 religion in which they wrap themselves is so well 
 lined that their hope of ruling France in your name 
 but at their own discretion, cannot be seen through 
 it ? And I pray God that that may content them, 
 for Princes held in subjection by their subjects are 
 rarely long lived." Let him only, she goes on to say, 
 pluck up heart and if he will accept her help they 
 will soon put his enemies to greater shame than ever 
 rebels felt. If he manfully took his own part, his 
 loyal subjects w^ould come to his assistance; she ended 
 by praying God to help him and to raise his courage. 
 Brave words and at the time perhaps honestly meant, 
 for Elizabeth could not but feel that the victory of 
 the League and Spain in France, now, when Parma 
 was triumphant in the Low Countries, would be 
 the certain prelude to her own overthrow. But 
 Henry IIL knew, none better, how little the acts and 
 words of the Queen of England were apt to cor- 
 respond ; how often the shortest performance would 
 follow her largest promises. 
 
 In any case, Elizabeth and Navarre were far away, 
 the Queen-Mother was at his ear and her creatures, 
 who formed the majority in the royal council, played 
 upon the fearsof the King, exaggerating the strength 
 of the League, the dangerous discontent of the Pa- 
 risians. The rebels already held many of the most
 
 ) 
 
 V 
 
 148 Henry of Navarre. [1586 
 
 important towns and fortresses. " The penitential 
 sackcloth of the King," writes a contemporary, 
 " was not of proof like the cuirasses of the League, 
 they had already mounted their horses and he 
 was on foot." On July 5th (1586) their demands 
 were granted in the King's name by Catherine 
 de' Medici. 
 
 On July i8th the King summoned the Parliament 
 of Paris and caused the revocation of the Edicts of 
 Toleration to be read and entered upon the rolls in 
 his presence. Turning to the Cardinal of Bourbon 
 who accompanied him, he said : " Against my con- 
 science, but very willingly, I came here on a pre- 
 vious occasion to seek the relief of my people by 
 the proclamation of that Edict of Toleration which 
 I have now come to revoke, in accordance, it is true, 
 with my conscience, but most unwillingly, since from 
 this act will follow the ruin of my realm and of my 
 people."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE THREE HENRYS. 
 I585-I589. 
 
 was useless, now that the forces of 
 the Government and of the League 
 were united to bring about the ex- 
 tirpation of heresy and the triumph 
 of Spain, for the King to attempt to 
 disclaim responsibility and to wash 
 his hands of the blood that was about to be shed. 
 We are told that when the King of Navarre heard 
 of the treaty between Henry III. and the League, 
 pondering long and deeply, his chin resting on his 
 hand, the half of his beard on which he leant turned 
 white, so great was his apprehension of the evil times 
 which he foresaw. The prospects of the struggle 
 were indeed unfavourable to the Huguenots. Their 
 numbers which had decreased after the Massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew, had again grown since the Peace 
 of Bergerac ; but they had lost much of their 
 old unanimity, and the zeal of many Protestant 
 nobles had grown cold. The Duke of Parma had
 
 \ 
 
 150 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 compelled Antwerp, the last and in every respect the 
 most important stronghold of the Cause in Flanders, 
 to surrender (August, 1585); it seemed unlikely that 
 Holland and Zealand, now that William the Silent 
 was no more, would long detain the conqueror, who 
 might next direct his victorious army against the 
 French heretics. 
 
 ' Contrary to all expectations the war was carried, 
 on with so little vigour in 1585 and 1586 that the 
 Huguenots were able to hold their own. The King 
 sent whatever supplies and money he could raise to 
 Epernon or Joyeuse and crippled by his ill-will the 
 operations of the Leaguers. The nobility generally 
 showed little interest in the cause, disliking equally 
 the alliance of the Guises with the fanatical demo- 
 cracy of the great towns, their disloyalty to the 
 Crown, and their subordination to Spain. The sup- 
 port of the Duke of Montmorency (Damville), an 
 unscrupulous and dissolute man, indifferent to the 
 religious question, but the determined enemy of the 
 House of Lorraine, secured the predominance of 
 the Protestants in Languedoc,/ while in Poitou they 
 had been greatly strengthened by the conversion of 
 the young Duke of Thouars, the head of the great 
 House of La Tr^moille, and grandfather of that 
 Countess of Derby who defended Lathom House 
 so gallantly in the English Civil Wars. 
 
 'The Huguenots might perhaps have been even 
 more successful had they not, like their opponents, 
 been divided by faction. Cond^wasthe rival rather 
 than the lieutenant of his cousin ; the Viscount of 
 Turenne and other great nobles were difilicult to
 
 t589] The Three Henrys. 151 
 
 manage and too ready to sacrifice the common good 
 to their private aggrandisement, but still the party 
 had a head, and that head was Henry of Navarre.^ 
 
 His activity was prodigious. Not only did he ap- 
 pear to see everything and to do everything himself, 
 but if there was any quarter from which assistance 
 might be hoped, any friend whose zeal needed en- 
 couragement, any opponent whose hostility might 
 be disarmed, there never was wanting some weighty 
 despatch from the pen of Mornay, some shorter but 
 pregnant letter written by the King himself, or one 
 of those spirited notes, which, says a great critic, 
 seem written when his foot was already in the stir- 
 rup, which breathe the fresh vigour of the morn- 
 ing and recall in their stirring brevity the note of 
 horn or trumpet rousing huntsman or soldier. 
 
 What Gascon squire, ever ready for war and adven- 
 ture, but must have felt his heart beat quicker on 
 receiving such a summons as this : " Put wings to 
 your best horse. I have told Montespan to break the 
 wind of his. Why? That I will tell you at Nerac. 
 Hasten, speed, fly. This is the command of your 
 master and the prayer of your friend " ; or this : 
 "You will doubtless not have failed to sell your 
 woods and they will have produced some thousand 
 pistoles. If so, be sure to bring me all you can, for 
 I never in my life was in such need ; and I do not 
 know when, or whence, or if ever I shall be able 
 to repay you. But I can promise you abundant 
 honour and glory, and gentlemen like you and me 
 do not live on money." 
 
 Even before the conclusion of the treaty between
 
 152 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 the King and the League, Henry had appealed to 
 his countrymen in a manifesto pubHshed at Bergerac 
 (June, 1585). He was a good Christian and no here- 
 tic, since he was wilHngto receive instruction from a 
 free and general council while a heretic is one who 
 obstinately persists in error. ' Neither was he, as his 
 enemies pretended, a persecutor. He had never 
 interfered with Catholic worship in the towns he 
 occupied, but had protected the monks and priests 
 and had left them the use of the churches, while he 
 retired to pray with his fellow believers in some pri- 
 vate house. His enemies in their solicitude to settle 
 the succession to the throne had chosen as heir to 
 the Crown of France, an old and childless man of 
 sixty-six, as if the King who was married and in the 
 vigour of his life had only a year or two to live. 
 He was anxious above all to spare his country the 
 evils of civil war; for this he would even surrender 
 the towns held by the Protestants, although neces- 
 sary, as experience had shown to their safety, pro- 
 vided that the chiefs of the League would also place 
 the fortresses they occupied in the King's hands. 
 If they would do the like, he would also resign his 
 governments. Should these offers not be acceptable, 
 the quarrel might be fought out without injury and 
 ruin to the Commonwealth, if the Duke of Guise 
 would meet him in single combat or with ten or 
 twenty champions on each side. '' 
 
 Next followed (August 10, 1585) a declaration 
 published in the names of the King of Navarre, the 
 Prince of Conde, the Duke of Montmorency and 
 ** the lords, gentlemen, towns and communities of
 
 I ^
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 153 
 
 both creeds associated for the defence of the realm," 
 accusing the House of Lorraine of seeking to over- 
 throw the Monarchy and of being the source of all 
 the sufferings of the country. In attacking these 
 traitors, the associates protested that they had no 
 aim but the service and independence of the King. 
 The German Princes, the Kings of Denmark and Scot- 
 land, the Protestant cantons of Switzerland, the Eng- 
 lish nobles and their Queen were warned, that the 
 Holy League had devoted them all to the same 
 destruction, that nothing appeared inaccessible to 
 the ambition of Spain, which already stretched across 
 so many seas and lands. Therefore they should 
 support those who were fighting in France against 
 the common enemy and his allies, the rebels who 
 had compelled their king to break his edicts and to 
 attack his most faithful subjects. 
 f Nor was the papal bull left unanswered, which 
 Sixtus v., more violent though less favourable to the 
 League and Spain than Gregory XHL, had ful- 
 minated against Henry of Bourbon. The astonished 
 Romans awoke one morning to see the celebrated 
 statues of Pasquin and Marforio and the doors of the 
 principal churches decorated by a document which 
 professed to be a proclamation of Henry, by the 
 Grace of God, King of Navarre and Prince of B6arn, 
 in which he gave the lie to " Monsieur Sixte," self- 
 styled Pope of Rome, asserted that he was prepared 
 to prove him a heretic in a free and oecumenical 
 council, and declared that he would avenge on the 
 Bishop of Rome and his successors the insult done to 
 the royal House of France in his person.
 
 1 54 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 Sixtus, bold himself, appreciated boldness in others 
 and was disposed to admire rather than to be angry 
 with the audacity of Henry and the faithful courage 
 of his agents. The insulting document itself was 
 written not by a Protestant, but by a Galilean lawyer 
 and placeman, L'Estoile, whose diary is one of the 
 most useful documents for the history of this period, 
 as a record of the feelings and opinions of the most 
 enlightened, the most honest and moderate of the 
 middle class. 
 
 The Parliament of Paris showed its hostility to the 
 League and its readiness to support the King should 
 he venture on a bolder policy, not only by vigorous 
 protests against the infraction of Galilean liberties by 
 the unauthorised publication of a Bull, excommuni- 
 cating the first Prince of the Blood, but also by 
 declaring that it was monstrous to expose millions of 
 men, women and children to death without apparent 
 cause on an ill-established and vague charge of heresy, 
 and that it would not honour as royal edicts, the 
 articles of an unconstitutional league, in arms not 
 only against God but against nature, which com- 
 manded fathers to be no longer fathers, friend to be- 
 tray friend, and which promised to the assassin the 
 spoils of his victim. 
 
 The Guises on the other hand, conscious that they 
 were hated by the King, and that at any moment he 
 might turn against them, did not cease to discredit 
 and undermine his authority, and their fears when 
 Catherine began once more to negotiate with the 
 King of Navarre, were not allayed by the protesta- 
 tions of the Queen-Mother and her son, that their
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 155 
 
 only object was to prevent or delay the invasion of 
 France by a powerful army of German Protestants. 
 
 The GermanJ^rinces declared that it was to Francis 
 I. and Henry II. that Germany owed the toleration 
 of Protestantism, and that gratitude for what those 
 kings had done compelled them to endeavor to 
 secure the like boon for France. The Protestant 
 Swiss, cantons allowed 10,000 men to enlist for the 
 service of the King of Navarre. These mercenaries, 
 when united with the Germans and with a body of 
 French refugees, formed an army of some 30,000 
 men. They were to march from the Rhine to the 
 Loire and there to join the forces of the King of 
 Navarre. 
 
 Henry III. determined to send his favourite 
 Joyeuse against the Huguenots, and himself to take 
 the command of the army opposed to the Germans, 
 Even the Duke of Guise, lieutenant-general of the 
 League though he was, could not pretend to the 
 supreme command when the King in person was 
 present. 
 
 :^ At Coutras on the borders of Saintonge and Peri- 
 gord, a few miles north of Libourne on the Dor- 
 dogne, Henry of Bourbon met Joyeuse and won the 
 first victory which had been gained by the Protes- 
 tants in twenty-five years of civil war (October 20, 
 1581). ) 
 
 The King's minions and courtiers had crowded 
 to serve under Joyeuse and vied in the magnificence 
 of their arms and equipments. As the autumn sun 
 shone on the first ranks of the Catholic army, wholly 
 composed of nobles resplendent with embroidery
 
 156 Hejiry of Navarre. [i585 
 
 and gold, Henry pointed out the glittering line to 
 the Protestant gentry, who had cut down their tim- 
 ber and mortgaged their estates to equip themselves 
 and their followers w^ith the bare necessaries of war. 
 His words have been compared to that proclamation 
 in which Bonaparte inflamed the zeal of his ragged 
 and half starved battalions by the prospect of plun- 
 der and licence in the fertile plains and luxurious 
 cities of Italy. " Here, my friends, you have before 
 you a very different quarry from any we have hith- 
 erto followed. A bridegroom [Joyeuse had been 
 recently married] with his wife's dowry still in his 
 pocket and accompanied by the flower of the Court. 
 Courage ! there is none among you of so little 
 account that he shall not henceforth ride a made 
 charger and be served on silver plate." But it was 
 not with thoughts of booty alone that the Hugue- 
 nots entered the battle. They threw themselves on 
 their knees to implore God's help. The young 
 courtiers round Joyeuse shouted, " They are afraid ! 
 they are confessing themselves," and were urgent to 
 be allowed to charge, and the more so because the 
 enemy's artillery well directed by Rosny, was plough- 
 ing long furrows through their ranks. As the 
 Catholic army advanced, the Protestants, led by the 
 King's chaplains sang the triumphant verses of 
 the 1 1 2th psalm. ' " They came about me like bees, 
 and are extinct even as the fire among the thorns, 
 for in the name of the Lord I will destroy them." 
 While Henry turned to the Prince of Cond6 and his 
 brother the Count of Soissons, " Cousins, I have 
 only to remind you that you belong to the family of
 
 1589] 
 
 The Three Henrys. 157 
 
 Bourbon, and, God's life ! I will prove to you that I 
 am its head." 
 
 The King of Navarre handled his army, which 
 though about equal to the enemy in infantry, was 
 greatly inferior in cavalry, with great judgment. 
 He made up for the light equipment and inferior 
 numbers of his horse by drawing them up in deep 
 masses and placing his matchlock men between their 
 columns. It was not till Joyeuse's men-at-arms were 
 within a few yards, the heavy men and horses tired 
 with attempting to trot up the rising ground, and 
 galled with the fire of musketry, that Henry headed 
 the decisive charge upon their extended line. The 
 pistols of the Huguenots emptied many a saddle, 
 before they closed, and fighting hand to hand their 
 opponents could not use their lances. In an hour 
 the royalist army was in headlong flight. Joyeuse 
 himself, 400 gentlemen and 2,000 soldiers Avere killed ; 
 the booty gained by the Huguenots, who lost but 
 forty men, was immense. 
 
 ( Although so complete, the victory of Coutras had 
 no important results. Henry has been blamed for not 
 pressing on to join the advancing Germans, after 
 which he might have fallen with superior forces on 
 the King, or have extorted peace by a bold march on 
 Paris. He sacrificed his victory to love, says Aubign^ 
 — and some years later, his chaplain D'Amours 
 reminded him how he had vainly urged him on 
 the morning after the battle to use to the utmost 
 the victory God had given him. Yet we can scarcely 
 believe that his conduct at so important a crisis was 
 determined by his desire to lay his laurels at the
 
 158 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 feet of the Countess of Grammont. Devoted 
 though he was to his mistresses, Henry maintained 
 that he never had preferred them to the interests 
 of the Statei and after reading his voluminous cor- 
 respondence, it is difficult not to allow, that, at 
 any rate during the earlier part of his life, the boast 
 was not ill founded, nor was Corisande the woman 
 to expect or encourage such weakness in her lover, 
 
 (it was in part the completeness of the defeat of 
 the Catholics, which was their salvation. Henry 
 could not keep his army together, so eager were the 
 soldiers to secure and carry home their booty. 
 Moreover, a large part of his forces consisted of the 
 levies of the districts in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood, Poitou, Saintonge, Angoumois, who had come 
 prepared to fight a battle, but not equipped for a 
 campaign.^ These and other reasons for inaction are 
 alleged in a despatch to Elizabeth of England. 
 
 It may perhaps be thought that the eagerness with 
 which Henry excuses his failure to meet his allies, 
 argues a consciousness of some want of energy on 
 his part, but it was necessary to keep the Queen 
 of England in good humour, and she was natu- 
 rally incensed at the futile conclusion of an expedition 
 to further which she had done violence to her 
 habitual parsimony. 
 
 John Casimir, the brother of the Elector Pala- 
 tine, from some strange scruple about attacking the 
 neighbouring House of Lorraine, had not placed 
 himself at the head of the motley army he had as- 
 sembled. He entrusted the command to Fabian of 
 Dohna, a Prussian noble of considerable military ex
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 159 
 
 perience and of great zeal for the Protestant cause, 
 but of neither sufficient reputation nor rank to com- 
 mand the ready and cheerful obedience of his sub- 
 ordinates. The Swiss, when they found the King 
 of France in person opposed to them, refused to 
 fight, and gladly accepted Henry Ill's offer to pay 
 them 400,000 ducats to go home. The confederates 
 reached the Loire. Instead of being met by a Pro- 
 testant army they found the towns and bridges occu- 
 pied by the King. The Guises were advancing in 
 their rear ; and at Auneau surprised the Germans in 
 their quarters and inflicted on them a loss of 2,000 
 men. After this slaughter and the desertion of the 
 Swiss, the whole Protestant army barely amounted 
 to 12,000. They were without any definite plan of 
 operations, the season was late and inclement, the 
 soldiers were exhausted by fatigue and disease, 
 the line of march was marked by abandoned waggons, 
 by the corpses of men who had fallen out of the 
 ranks from sickness or fatigue and had been piti- 
 lessly slaughtered by the peasantry in retaliation for 
 their rapine and cruelty. One woman boasted that 
 she had with her knife cut the throats of seventeen 
 of these accursed heretics, who had crept into a barn 
 for a little shelter before they died. The Germans 
 followed the course of the Loire till they saw before 
 them the high mountains in which it rises. On the 
 other side of the hills was a friendly district and 
 towns garrisoned by their allies. Chatillon, the 
 eldest son of the Admiral, who accompanied the 
 invaders with a body of French refugees, undertook 
 to clear the passes and lead the army into Languedoc
 
 i6o Henry of Nava^'re. [1585- 
 
 in four days. But the offer of the King, to assist 
 them to return to their own country if they would 
 swear never again to bear arms in France, was too 
 tempting to be refused. Bolder counsels would have 
 been safer. The Guises treated the royal safe con- 
 duct as valid only in France ; as soon as the retreating 
 Germans had crossed the frontiers of Franche-Comt^, 
 they fell upon them and cut the greater number to 
 pieces. 
 
 The campaign of 1589 had decided nothing. The 
 hopes of the Huguenots were not crushed by the 
 misfortunes of their allies ; since the victory of 
 Coutras they felt confidence in their own unassisted 
 strength. 
 
 ! The enmity of Henry HI. and of Guise was em- 
 bittered. The failure of the German invasion was 
 really due to the negotiations of the former, but all 
 the credit was ascribed by the populace to the latter. 
 He was a glorious conqueror, the King had treach- 
 erously saved the Swiss from his avenging sword 
 and had given them money into the bargain. Henry 
 HI. found that he had only bestirred himself to 
 increase the power and popularity of the Duke. He 
 bitterly declared to his courtiers that the King of 
 Navarre was not his worst enemy^j The morning 
 after Coutras, Henry of Bourbon had written : " Sire, 
 my lord and brother, return thanks to God, I have 
 defeated your foes and your army. You will hear 
 from the bearer, whether, though I stand sword in 
 hand in the midst of your kingdom, it is I who am, 
 as it is pretended, your enemy," and the King of 
 France was disposed to believe that his brother-in-
 
 15891 The Three Henrys. i6i 
 
 law spoke the truth ; that Henry of Guise was his 
 worst enemy he at any rate did not doubt. A 
 remarkable despatch, written by the English ambas- 
 sador, throws light upon the situation and upon the 
 character of the French King. Sir E. Stafford tells 
 how secretly and by night he was brought to a 
 house where he met Henry HI. alone. The King 
 began by saying that in the confidence that his words 
 would be communicated to no one but the Queen of 
 England he would explain openly and fully the po- 
 sition in which he found himself, so that his sister 
 might consult thereon with her most secret council- 
 lors, she had such, and wise ; he had no one whom 
 he could trust. By the advice of the Queen-Mother 
 and his council he had refused a proposal made by 
 Elizabeth to mediate between him and the Hugue- 
 nots ; but he besought her to do so with all his heart ; 
 and above all to persuade Navarre to have a care of 
 his own interests and to accommodate himself to him 
 in such sort (/. e. by his conversion) that the League 
 might have no pretext to undo him and France. He 
 himself was a good Catholic, and wished all France 
 to be Catholic, but he was not such a bigot as to prefer 
 to ruin himself and his kingdom rather than tolerate 
 the Reformers. If the Germans had shown valour 
 and discretion they might have brought the League 
 on their knees. Why had they not attacked Lor- 
 raine, Champagne and Burgundy, instead of fol- 
 lowing him to the Loire? He had been obliged 
 to act as he had, so as not to leave all honour 
 to the Guises. Stafford remarked that it hardly 
 seemed to be to the King's interest that Henry of
 
 1 62 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 Bourbon should conform. All men would then turn 
 to the rising sun. The King was silent for awhile. 
 He then said every one could rule a shrewd wife 
 except he that had her, and such was his case ; 
 he hardly knew which way to turn, yet he would 
 rather risk what might come from Navarre. 
 
 • The feelings with which they were regarded by 
 Henry HI. were well known to the League. Seditious 
 pamphlets were hawked about the streets of Paris and 
 the pulpits rang with discourses not less outspoken. 
 The King, it was repeated, sympathised with the 
 Huguenots; he had saved their foreign allies from 
 destruction, he had advised his dear friend the 
 English Jezebel to murder the sainted Queen of 
 Scots. He left the troops who were shedding their 
 blood for God and country to starve, while he 
 squandered vast sums on the atheist Epernon, and on 
 indecent orgies and follies. The Sorbonne in secret 
 session— thirty or forty dirty pedants and masters 
 of arts, grumbles L'Estoile^decided that incom- 
 petent and faithless princes may rightly be deposed.) 
 
 [ The " Sixteen " and their most violent supporters 
 plotted to seize the King's person.) The Duchess 
 of Montpensier, the sister of the Guises, whose fer- 
 vid fanaticism and feminine recklessness were the 
 useful instruments of her brother Guise's calculating 
 ambition, boasted that she wore at her girdle the 
 scissors which should give Henry of Valois his third 
 crown, the tonsure. 
 
 ( The leaders of the faction met at Nancy and 
 agreed upon new articles to be presented as an ulti- 
 matum to the King. In these they demanded that
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 163 
 
 he should assume a less ambiguous attitude, wage a 
 war of extermination against the heretics, dismiss 
 all suspected ministers and officers, accept the 
 decrees of the Council of Trent, establish the Holy 
 Inquisition, place more fortresses in the hands of 
 the Princes of the League, and provide for the pay- 
 ment of their troops ; the last might be done by 
 selling the estates of the heretics and of their allies, 
 the skin of the living bear. The King again began 
 to negotiate — not daring to reject these insolent 
 proposals.) 
 
 •In the spring of 1588 the Invincible Armada was 
 preparing to sail, and Parma had received orders to 
 collect his forces and to be prepared to embark as 
 soon as the Spanish fleet had swept the narrow seas. 
 But if this was to be done with any degree of safety, 
 it was absolutely necessary that the action of France 
 should be paralysedy Otherwise so favourable an 
 opportunity of interfering in Flanders, and the 
 vital importance of not allowing England to become 
 a Spanish province, would not suffer even the most 
 supine and irresolute of French kings to remain 
 inactive. 
 
 (The Spanish ambassador was accordingly ordered 
 to insist that the League should either compel the 
 King to give satisfactory pledges of his devotion to 
 the Catholic cause, or deprive him of the power of 
 becoming dangerous.) 
 
 Henry III., aware of the plots against his liberty, 
 if not against his life, was fortifying himself in the 
 Louvre, and had garrisoned that palace, the Bastille, 
 and the Arsenal with a stron<2' force of Swiss. The
 
 164 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 Sixteen and the Spanish envoys urged Guise to 
 hasten to the Capital. 
 
 Not only did Henry of Guise, in defiance of the 
 King's prohibition, enter Paris where he was re- 
 ceived with delirious joy as a conqueror and saviour, 
 he had even the incredible audacity to venture 
 almost unaccompanied into the Louvre. The King 
 grew white with anger when the approach of the 
 Duke was announced. " He shall die ! " he ex- 
 claimed with a vehement oath. An Italian priest 
 who stood by quoted the text, " I will smite the 
 shepherd and the sheep shall be scattered." " Stone 
 dead," said the soldiers about the King, " hath no 
 fellow " ; but the courtiers who feared the vengeance 
 of the people, urged caution, they described the ex- 
 cited crowds who thronged the streets and even 
 the courtyard of the Palace. While Henry hesitated, 
 Guise entered, accompanied by the Queen-Mother ; 
 he looked pale and discomposed ; he had passed 
 through ranks of armed men ; Crillon the Captain of 
 the Guard had defiantly neglected to return his 
 salute. " I ordered you not to come," were the 
 first words of the King. " Sire, I received no ex- 
 press command," replied Guise, " or I should not 
 have ventured into your presence, though I have but 
 come to beg for justice against the calumnies of my 
 enemies." Catherine, alarmed at the evident rage 
 of her son, led him aside and urged him to do noth- 
 ing which might provoke the fury of the people. 
 What protection could a few thousand Swiss afTord 
 against the armed multitude of Paris ? Guise took 
 advantage of the opportunity to escape from so
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 165 
 
 dangerous a situation. When he next visited the 
 Louvre he was accompanied by 400 gentlemen, who 
 wore arms under their clothes. 
 
 It was evident that the King was raging under the 
 yoke of the League, and that he would throw it off 
 if occasion offered. Epernon had occupied Lagny 
 on the Marne with his troops, and was about to se- 
 cure Rouen and Orleans. Holding these towns he 
 could threaten Paris on all sides and interrupt the 
 supplies and trade of the great city. The ferment 
 among the inhabitants increased. The King 
 ordered the municipal militia, supported by 6,000 
 Swiss, to occupy the most important points of the 
 city. The trainbands either refused to obey the 
 summons of their captains, or deserted the posts 
 they were ordered to hold. Barricades arose every- 
 where in the narrow streets. The Swiss were sur- 
 rounded by an armed mob, and themselves without 
 shelter were exposed to the fire of enemies covered 
 by the barricades and by the houses which they had 
 occupied and turned into fortresses. 
 
 When Guise showed himself it was to protect the 
 King's troops from the fury of the people, and to 
 release those who had laid down their arms on a 
 promise that their life should be spared. Unarmed, 
 in a white silken doublet and a switch in his hand, 
 he walked through the enthusiastic crowd deprecat- 
 ing their rapturous applause — " Enough, enough, 
 dear friends, cry Long live the King." Next morn- 
 ing a threatening mob, the dregs of the people, led 
 by a sacred band of friars and students of the Uni- 
 versity, assembled with cries of " To the Louvre,'
 
 1 66 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 " Let us fetch brother Henry," for the fanatics now 
 talked of nothing less than of deposing the King and 
 compelling him to end his days in some monastery. 
 Fearing for his liberty and his life the King fled 
 through the one gate he still held, the Porte Neuve, 
 situated near the middle of the great gallery of the 
 present Louvre, and took horse at the stables of the 
 Tuileries, accompanied by his courtiers and the 
 majority of his Council. So unpremeditated was 
 this flight that many mounted their horses unbooted, 
 in silken hose and robes of ofiflce. The guards at the 
 Porte de Nesle fired across the river at the motley 
 cavalcade as it passed along the bank, while the peo- 
 ple shouted taunts and insults. On the hill of Chail- 
 lot, Henry turned to look once more on the Capital 
 he was never again to enter. " Ungrateful city," he 
 muttered, " I loved you more than my wife." 
 
 No pursuit was attempted ; Henry HL a prisoner 
 in the Duke's hands would have been a terrible source 
 of embarrassment ; it would have been difficult to 
 find a cage for such a bird. It is not likely that the 
 ambition of Henry of Guise extended to the throne. 
 He wished for the sword of Constable, the position 
 of Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, and these he 
 felt certain that he would be able to obtain by the 
 vote of the Estates and from the fears of the King. 
 The prize for which he strove seemed already within 
 his grasp ; but the death or captivity of the King 
 would have revived the loyal instincts of the nation, 
 his follies and vices would have been forgotten, a 
 civil war would have been kindled, which would have 
 invited the ambitious intervention of Spain, have
 
 t589] The Three Henrys. 167 
 
 given an opportunity to the Huguenots and at the 
 end of which Guise, even if successful, could scarcely 
 hope to be more powerful than he was already. If 
 more splendid hopes dazzled his ambition their 
 realisation would be easier, when, after the natural 
 death of the last Valois, a distant collateral and a 
 heretic was the heir of the Capets. Then the Con- 
 stable and Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, dis- 
 posing of the army and of the administration, might 
 assert the right of the orthodox Church and people 
 of France to prefer a prince of the old Carolingian line. 
 
 It is difficult to say what was the policy of Henry 
 III. during the six months which elapsed between 
 the Day of the Barricades (May 12, 1588) and the 
 assassination of Guise (December 23, 1588). 
 
 It is probable that as yet he had no fixed plan, but, 
 living from hand to mouth, left the morrow to take 
 thought for itself, — a policy consisting in the absence 
 of all policy, commoner, Aubigne remarks, among 
 princes than those would readily believe who have 
 not enjoyed their confidence. 
 
 The sufferings of the people, the anarchy and dis- 
 solution of every principle of order, could not escape 
 the notice of the most careless observer. Already, 
 as at the time of the English wars, the peasantry, 
 tired of sowing when they were not allowed to reap, 
 were abandoning the plough to live as brigands on 
 the highways, or to collect in large bands among the 
 forests. " Gallia silvescit," wrote Du Plessis-Mornay 
 in 1 587. " One who had fallen asleep twenty-five years 
 ago, would, if he now awoke, imagine himself trans- 
 ported to some barbarous island,"
 
 1 63 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 I. To ?vcid an open breach with the League and 
 such an ou^'break of civil war as must complete the 
 ruin of the country, the King offered to yield every- 
 thing to Guise short of the entire government of the 
 state ; and when the Estates met at Blois (October, 
 1588) made another attempt to gain the confidence 
 of the Catholic party.j 
 
 He offered the largest concessions, the fullest con- 
 fession of his errors in the past and the most explicit 
 promises of future amendment. " I know, gentle- 
 men, that I have sinned, I have offended God — but 
 for the future I will do better — I will reduce my 
 expenses to the lowest limit, where there were two 
 capons on my table there shall henceforth be only 
 one." He even most reluctantly recognised the Car- 
 dinal of Bourbon as first Prince of the Blood, and 
 assented to a declaration that, as a relapsed heretic, 
 the King of Navarre had forfeited his right to the 
 succession. 
 
 But no concession would satisfy his opponents ; 
 they drove him from point to point, inflicted humilia- 
 tion upon humiliation, until at length he turned 
 savagely to bay. 
 
 He was warned, even, it is said, by members of 
 the House of Lorraine, who were jealous of their 
 kinsman, that the Duke of Guise intended to pro- 
 cure a confirmation of his authority and the dignity 
 of Constable from the Estates and carrying the 
 King back to Paris to govern the kingdom in his 
 name. 
 
 VAs Henry HL had before shared with his mother 
 the mistake of supposing that the whole future and
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 169 
 
 strength of the Protestant party depended on the 
 life of Coligny, so he now seems to have beheved 
 that the League was incarnate in Guise, that if he 
 could be removed, the Cathohc party would wel- 
 come the King as their leader.* Some of his most 
 intimate advisers encouraged him in this view, quot- 
 ing an Italian proverb, " No fear of the dead viper's 
 venom." The Duke was repeatedly warned that his 
 life was in danger. A few days before his assassina- 
 tion he debated with his friends whether he should 
 leave Blois — in other words begin a civil war against 
 the King, or continue to coerce Henry by his pres- 
 ence and by the authority of the Estates. The 
 former course would have compelled Henry HI. to 
 make common cause with the Protestants and the 
 Politicians, and unless he was prepared to become 
 the mere tool of Spain, Guise was not strong enough 
 to struggle against such a combination. Many of 
 the nobles, who had at first adhered to the League, 
 had been disgusted by the court it had paid to the 
 democracy of the towns and by the contumelious 
 treatment of the King. The League, it was said, 
 had gained the Huguenots more adherents in three 
 months than they could by their own efforts have 
 secured in thirty years. The personal followers on 
 whose devotion Guise might count, his advisers and 
 confidants, were men of tarnished reputation and 
 broken fortunes. He determined therefore not to 
 risk the failure of his plans by leaving Blois : if he 
 saw death come in at the window he would not, he 
 said, escape by the door. Besides he too thor- 
 oughly despised the King, who affected to be more
 
 1 70 Henry of Navarre. uses 
 
 than ever immersed in frivolity and devotion, to be- 
 lieve him capable of any energetic and determined 
 resolution. There was, he said, no spark of manliness 
 or courage left in him. He forgot that the vilest 
 reptile will turn when trodden on, that the most timid 
 beast will defend itself if no way of escape remains. 
 In those days political assassination was regarded 
 as one of the ordinary resources of statecraft, and, 
 when we remember that even two generations later 
 the chivalrous Montrose advised Charles I. to get 
 rid in this way of Hamilton and Argyle, we must 
 allow that the murder of the Duke of Guise, an un- 
 doubted traitor, too stout to be dealt with in the 
 ordinary course of law, can scarcely be accounted a 
 crime. Yet it was accompanied by dramatic circum- 
 stances which have impressed the imagination of 
 posterity. The shivering, frightened King, rising in 
 the black winter night, to prepare the death of his 
 accomplice in a far bloodier scene of midnight 
 slaughter ; his long suspense after he had placed his 
 guards in the narrow passage through which the 
 Duke must pass when summoned from the Council 
 Chamber to his presence ; the meeting of the Coun- 
 cil in the gray rainy December twilight ; the mur- 
 derous scuffle heard by the old Queen who lay on 
 her death-bed below ; all this has been often de- 
 scribed. Guise in his death struggle dragged himself 
 and his assailants as far as the King's room. It was 
 told that there, as Guise sixteen years before had 
 spurned the murdered Admiral, so Henry now kicked 
 the corpse of his enemy, saying, as was noted by 
 those who were curious in omens and in other
 
 mmi^^lr? S 
 
 DUKE HENRY OF GUISE. 
 From the painting by F. Clouet.
 
 15891 The Three Henrys. 171 
 
 obscure suggestions of the future, " He seems even 
 greater dead than alive." 
 
 The Duke's brother, the Cardinal of Guise, the 
 Archbishop of Lyons, Espinac, author of the Ga- 
 veston, a scurrilous libel in which Epernon and his 
 master were compared to Edward II. of England 
 and his favourite, together with the old Cardinal of 
 Bourbon, were arrested in the Council Chamber and 
 other leaders of the League on the same day, but of 
 these only the Cardinal of Guise was put to death. 
 
 The King's first visit was to the Queen-Mother. 
 He told her triumphantly that at length he was 
 King of France, for he had killed the King of Paris. 
 She said : '' You have cut boldly into the stuff, my 
 son, but will you know how to sew it together?" 
 
 Henry III. was indeed much mistaken in sup- 
 posing that the death of the Duke would make 
 him King of France — he was soon in danger of be- 
 ing little more than King of Blois. Yet, had he 
 acted vigorously, it is possible that his position might 
 have been improved by the bold stroke he had 
 ventured. 
 
 \He should have justified himself by some solemn 
 form of judicial inquiry. This he might easily have 
 done, for the treason of Guise was patent. He 
 should have appealed to the loyalty of his nobles, 
 recalled Epernon and his soldiers and taken the field 
 at the head of his army. Even had he done so, the 
 grief and fury excited among the popular and fanati- 
 cal section of the League by the death of their idol 
 might have stirred them to a resistance which he 
 could only have overcome by the help of the Protes-
 
 1 72 Henry of Navarre. [i585 
 
 tants : but he showed no vigour. He remained at 
 Blois trying to persuade the Estates to be reason- 
 able, seeking to conciHate when concihation was im- 
 possible, and by the release of Brissac and other 
 violent partisans gave leaders to his rebels.' 
 
 In Paris the news of the assassination of Guise 
 produced an uncontrollable outburst of sorrow and 
 passion. The tidings reached the town on Christmas 
 Eve. At once all signs of rejoicing and festivity 
 disappeared. The churches were thronged with 
 mourning crowds, who listened to funeral chants 
 unaccompanied by music, which took the place of 
 the cheerful services appointed for the most joyful of 
 Christian festivals. The preachers did their best to 
 raise the contagious emotions of the people to the 
 highest pitch of fury. They denounced in unmeas- 
 ured terms the treacherous murderer, the Ahab, the 
 impure Herod, the Judas possessed not by one but 
 by lo.cxx) devils, to whom they would no longer 
 give the name of king. The Sorbonne (Jan, 17, 
 1589) solemnly declared that, owing to his manifold 
 crimes, the subjects of Henry HI. were released 
 from their allegiance. The Parliament attempted 
 to resist, by continuing to administer justice in the 
 King's name, but the more obstinate magistrates 
 were thrown into the Bastille, and the more pliant 
 compelled to make common cause with the munici- 
 pality and with the Council which had been appointed 
 to carry on the government in the name of the Holy 
 Catholic Union. 
 
 The Duke of Mayenne, the eldest surviving brother 
 of Guise, presided, with the style of Lieutenant-
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 173 
 
 General of the Realm and Crown of France, over 
 this Council, which was composed of the most 
 important Catholic nobles, of some of the most 
 prominent preachers and doctors of the Sorbonne, 
 of a few members of the High Court of Justice, of 
 representatives of the city of Paris and of the other 
 towns which adhered to the League. For the 
 example of Paris had been followed by many other 
 great cities — Rouen, Amiens, Abbeville, Troyes and 
 Rheims, Toulouse, Orleans, almost the whole of 
 Burgundy, Brittany and Provence, besides numerous 
 towns in other parts of the country, refused any 
 longer to recognise the King's authority. On all 
 sides he saw his power crumbling away. Mayenne 
 contemptuously rejected all overtures. He would 
 not give Henry of Valois the title of King. He was, 
 he said, a miserable wretch, in whose promises it was 
 impossible to place any further confidence. As the 
 fanatics were irreconcilably hostile and his own 
 unsupported strength was unequal to the unavoid- 
 able conflict, the King could no longer hesitate to 
 accept the help offered to him by Henry of Navarre. 
 The small advantage reaped from the victory of 
 Coutras, the discouragement of his German allies by 
 the destruction of the forces they had levied, the ill- 
 temper of the Queen of England, who complained 
 that her subsidies had been wasted, the dread, 
 common to all Protestants, of some fatal blow to be 
 dealt to the Cause by the mighty armament collect- 
 ing in the Spanish ports, the jealousy of the 
 Princes of his family, the disunion among his fol- 
 lowers, and, lastly, the complete submission, as it
 
 1 74 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 seemed, of the King to their common enemies, had 
 severely tried even the serene and persistent self- 
 confidence of Henry of Bourbon. " The devil is 
 loose," he wrote in March, 1588, to his Corisande. 
 " I am indeed to be pitied, and it is a wonder that 
 I do not sink under my load. If I were not Hugue- 
 not I should turn Turk. Oh, by what violent trials 
 my head is racked ! This year will be my touch- 
 stone ; I must assuredly either become mad or turn 
 out a clever man." But such moods of doubt and 
 depression did not last long. Two years before he 
 had written that his own head was the best part of 
 his Council, and that his judgment was rarely at 
 fault ; and although we must allow some credit to 
 his advisers, and above all to Du Plessis-Mornay, the 
 skill with which he steered through the dangers of 
 this crisis justify the boast. 
 
 In the field he maintained his reputation as a 
 skilful captain and fearless soldier. When, in No- 
 vember, 1588, the representatives of the Huguenot 
 Churches met at La Rochelle, a tone of manlier 
 resolution may well have been given to their delib- 
 erations by the sight of the standards taken from the 
 enemy, which decorated the roof of the hall in which 
 they met. 
 
 The death of Conde, March 5, 1588, who perished 
 the victim of a domestic crime, in which his wife 
 Charlotte de la Tr^moille was implicated, freed 
 Henry from a rival in the affections of his party and 
 from comparisons not always to his advantage. > 
 
 The King of Navarre sincerely lamented his 
 cousin. " One of the greatest misfortunes possible
 
 1589] 
 
 The Three Henrys. i 7^ 
 
 has befallen me," he wrote to his mistress, " the 
 sudden death of the Prince. They have poisoned 
 him, the miscreants ... a wicked woman is 
 a dangerous beast," yet, he added, he lamented 
 rather what his cousin ought to have been to him, 
 than what he had been. He had discovered a new 
 plot to take his own life. These murderers were all 
 Papists, and he hoped that Corisande would abandon 
 a religion which brought forth such fruits. To his 
 Chaplain he wrote: "What a miserable age this is, 
 which produces monsters who, though assassins, 
 think to be held men of honour and virtue." 
 
 Though the Assembly at La Rochelle passed some 
 useful measures, it was by no means to the taste of 
 the Protector of the Churches. He bore with char- 
 acteristic patience the exhortations of the ministers 
 that he should amend the irregularities of his private 
 life ; but he warmly resented the criticism of his 
 public policy, and the proposal of some to place 
 the French Protestants under the protection of the 
 Elector Palatine : and did not conceal his displeasure 
 at the appointment of a permanent Council consist- 
 ing of princes and nobles and of representatives of 
 the general and provincial synods. " If there is to 
 be another meeting," he complained, " I shall go 
 stark mad. But, thank God, all is ended and well 
 ended." 
 
 The Assembly had scarcely dispersed, and Henry 
 was collecting his troops for a winter campaign, 
 when the news came of the assassination of Guise. 
 Although Aubign^ professes that the Huguenot gen- 
 try loudly lamented the treachery of which he had
 
 I "jd Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 been the victim, extolling the virtues of the dead 
 and the courtesies which many had received from 
 him, yet the general feeling was one of relief and 
 exultation. " How many men," Du Plessis-Mornay 
 exclaimed, " have been overthrown in this one man ! 
 How many battles won, and towns taken ! How 
 many years compressed into one morning ; how 
 many poor souls raised up and churches restored ! " 
 To his master he wrote that it was a signal mercy, 
 that without staining his hands he should have been 
 avenged on his enemy. He had, however, better do 
 nothing rashly. It was well to sleep a night on so 
 great an event. 
 
 The King of Navarre exulted in less seemly 
 fashion. If, in addition to this good news, he might 
 only hear that his wife had been strangled and that 
 her mother was dead, then, he said, he would have 
 every reason to sing the song of Simeon. 
 
 Meantime, he followed the advice of Mornay and 
 carried on the war with vigour, till he was suddenly 
 attacked by a pleurisy so severe that his life was in 
 danger. The Huguenots were in despair, valuing 
 their leader more highly now that they feared he 
 might be taken from them, and touched by the con- 
 solation which he sought and found in the singing 
 of psalms and edifying conversation. But the inac- 
 tion to which he was reduced was not inconvenient. 
 He was relieved from the necessity of taking any 
 decided step before he could well judge what was 
 likely to be the future course of events. 
 ' Du Plessis-Mornay urged his master to hasten to 
 the assistance of Henry III. Chatillon was equally
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 177 
 
 eager to bring about a satisfactory understanding 
 with the RoyaHsts. The sternest Huguenots could 
 scarcely murmur at being called upon to help a 
 prince so deeply stained with the blood of their 
 brethren, when they saw the heir of the murdered 
 Admiral sacrificing his resentment to the welfare of 
 his country. The Protestants and the Royalists had 
 the same interests and the same enemies. It was not, 
 therefore, difficult, when sentimental obstacles were 
 laid aside, for them to come to an understanding. 
 A truce was concluded for a year, during which the 
 King of Navarre engaged to employ his forces 
 "only by consent or command of His Majesty." 
 Saumur, a strong fortress, commanding the passage 
 of the Loire, and one town in each province were to 
 be placed in the hands of the Reformers for the free 
 exercise of their religion and as a pledge of the 
 King's sincerity. ; 
 
 Henry of Bourbon advanced to the banks of the 
 Loire with a small but veteran army — 5,000 infantry, 
 500 horse, and 500 musketeers. The good economy 
 of Mornay had enabled him to pay his troops, and 
 therefore to maintain a discipline which contrasted 
 most favourably with the savage licence of the 
 Leaguers. The Champions of Catholicism were not 
 less terrible to the orthodox than to heretics. The 
 churches were often the scene of their vilest ex- 
 cesses. They derided the holiest mysteries of their 
 faith, and trod under foot the consecrated Host, 
 the Body, as they professed to believe, of their 
 Redeemer. 
 
 When the soldiers of Mayenne first saw the uni-
 
 1 78 Henry of Navarre. [1585- 
 
 form of the Protestants among the ranks of their 
 opponents, they shouted to them — "Back, white 
 scarves ; back, Chatillon ; it is not you who are our 
 enemies, but the murderer of your father, the traitor 
 King, who has betrayed you once and will betray 
 you again ! " But Chatillon replied that they were 
 rebels and traitors to their country, and that, when 
 the service of his Prince and of the Commonwealth 
 was concerned, he cast under foot all thought of 
 private interest and wrong. 
 
 When this was told to Henry III. he praised him, 
 and ever after treated him with the greatest favour, 
 and would, it was thought, had he lived, have ad- 
 vanced him marvellously. So, at least, Chatillon 
 himself believed, for he was grievously afflicted at 
 the King's assassination, and said that he had lost 
 his good master and all hope of prosperity in this 
 world. His friends pointed out that after all Henry 
 HI. had compassed his father's death, and that he 
 might reasonably hope for more favour from Henry 
 IV., to which he replied : " What you say is true. 
 Yet be assured that the late King would have 
 acknowledged and rewarded my services, while this 
 one will rather abase me for serving him." 
 
 The King of Navarre had once sworn that he 
 would never again enter his brother-in-law's pres- 
 ence, except between the ranks of his army. Yet, 
 although warned that the King might offer his head 
 as a pledge of reconciliation to the Catholics, he 
 accepted an invitation to an interview in the park of 
 Plessis les Tours. In the midst of a great and joy- 
 ful crowd which had assembled to see the meeting
 
 1589] The Three Henrys. 1 79 
 
 of the Kings, Henry of Bourbon threw himself on 
 his knees before Henry of Valois, who hastened to 
 prevent him with repeated embraces. 
 ' It was observed by the spectators that the King 
 of France excelled in grace and dignity ; but the 
 vivacity, the soldierly bearing and the genial frank- 
 ness of the King of Navarre won the favour of the 
 people. He was in appearance the perfect type of 
 the well-born, hardy, adventurous and restless Gascon 
 soldier of fortune ; but there was also something 
 about him of a crafty Ulysses who had seen the cities 
 and evil manners of many men. He was of small 
 but active and wiry make, with strongly marked ex- 
 pressive and mobile features, piercing eyes, equally 
 ready to laugh, to frown or to weep, surrounded by 
 careful and cunning wrinkles', and glancing from 
 under highly arched ironical eyebrows ; the long sen- 
 sual nose of Francis I., but less villainous and more 
 aquiline, drooping over a pointed chin, his hair thick 
 and curly though prematurely grey — bleached, he 
 used to say, by the breath of adversity — his short 
 beard hiding a closely shut mouth. His dress was a 
 brown velvet doublet, worn on the shoulders by his 
 breastplate ; he was only distinguished from his fol- 
 lowers by his scarlet cloak and by the white plume 
 fastened to his grey felt hat by a costly brooch. 
 What more complete contrast could be imagined to 
 the effeminate graces of the last Valois? 
 
 " The ice has been broken," Henry wrote to Mor- 
 nay, " in spite of many warnings that if I went I was 
 a dead man. When I crossed the river I committed 
 myself to God, who in His mercy has not only pre-
 
 i8o Henry of Navarre. [isss- 
 
 served me, but caused the King to show extreme 
 joy." "You have done, Sire," was the reply, "what 
 it was right for you to do, but what none should have 
 ventured to advise you to do." 
 
 ( The reconciliation of the King with the Protestants 
 was far from displeasing to the Politicians and mod- 
 erate Catholics. They gladly acquiesced in a policy 
 which implied toleration, enmity to the League and 
 a vigorous opposition to the patron and master of it, 
 the King of Spain. The League in the meantime was 
 daily becoming more hateful to a majority of the 
 nation. At Paris it rested on the support of the 
 lower classes, who were propitiated by an exemption 
 from the obligation to pay their rent, — a communis- 
 tic measure of confiscation odious to the middle class.^ 
 In Normandy the Catholic leader, Brissac, had made 
 common cause with an agrarian rising of the peas- 
 antry, — a sure method of alienating the sympathies of 
 the landowners. While all who were less Romanists 
 and Guisards than Frenchmen were disgusted by the 
 ever growing subservience to Philip IL The Spanish 
 envoy Mendoza, whose insolence and love of intrigue 
 had caused first Elizabeth and then Henry IIL to 
 refuse to tolerate him at their Courts, enjoyed greater 
 authority in the Council of the Union than Mayenne 
 himself, who apologised humbly to the Escurial, on 
 the plea of haste and urgency, for accepting the 
 authority conferred upon him, without the previous 
 permission of the King of Spain. 
 
 ( The Royalists and the Protestants flocked to the 
 army of the two Kings ; they were joined by a 
 poweiful body of Swiss, enlisted by the Protestant
 
 1589] 
 
 The Three Henrys. i8i 
 
 cantons, and were soon able to advance upon and 
 threaten Paris.) Nothing had been neglected which 
 might arouse enthusiasm or coerce and crush any- 
 growing spirit of moderation among the citizens, — 
 frantic and sanguinary sermons, processions of men, 
 of women, of relics. Four thousand children were 
 paraded through the streets with torches in their 
 hands, singing the " Dies Irae." As they halted 
 before the churches they turned the torches to the 
 ground, stamped on them with their feet and cried, 
 " Thus may God quench the House of Valois." 
 Wonderful tales were told of the crimes and cruelty 
 of the King, of his determination to glut his revenge 
 on his rebellious Capital. All who were suspected of 
 being Royalists were imprisoned or watched with 
 malevolent suspicion. The slightest symptom of dis- 
 affection was punished by fine and imprisonment, 
 frequently by death. A servant accused her mistress 
 of having laughed on Ash Wednesday ; the charge 
 was sufficient to endanger the life, not of the lady 
 only, but of her whole family. Yet without large 
 and immediate assistance from the Spaniards, Paris 
 could not be held against the overwhelming forces 
 of the kings of France and Navarre, The day for 
 the assault was already fixed. The respectable citi- 
 zens, disgusted by the licence of the mob, the ruin of 
 trade and the prospect of famine, desired at least as 
 much as they feared the entrance of the King. The 
 monks, students and paupers, whatever their zeal, 
 would be no match for the Swiss and for the veterans 
 of Epernon and Navarre. 
 
 But although the devotion of many to the Catho-
 
 1 82 Henry of Navarre. [1599 
 
 lie cause had cooled, popular passion, as is often the 
 case, became incarnate in an individual, entered into 
 and took possession of him. 
 
 Jacques Clement was a Burgundian monk, ignor- 
 ant, violent and fanatical ; encouraged by his superiors 
 he determined to strike down the murderer of the 
 champion of the Church, the ally of heretics, the per- 
 secutor of God's people. No means were neglected 
 which might raise his enthusiasm to the highest pitch. 
 He was introduced to the Duchess of Montpensier, 
 perhaps to other leaders of the League, who promised 
 him all that could tempt the ambition of a friar in 
 this world and the next. 
 
 He executed his purpose with the deliberate sim- 
 plicity and success of a man too much in earnest, or 
 too stupid, to be distracted by any apprehension of 
 consequences to himself or others. 
 
 The assassination of Henry HI. saved Paris. The 
 Duchess of Montpensier fell on the neck of the mes- 
 senger who brought her the tidings of the King's 
 death ; the townspeople gave way to transports of 
 unreasoning joy. The assassin was honoured as a 
 saint and as a martyr, his image and those of the 
 two Guises were placed on the altars of the churches 
 and received the adoration of the faithful.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CAN A HERETIC BE KING OF FRANCE? 
 
 I 589-1 592. 
 
 wwHfrmiwWHWfminniB 
 
 HE death of the last Valois, worthless 
 man and weak King though he was, 
 appeared a most serious calamity to 
 the few statesmen whose love for 
 their country was not obscured by 
 the spirit of faction or fanaticism. 
 Three parties in the state had a clear conception 
 of their own aims and were prepared to bestir them- 
 selves to attain those aims. 
 
 These were first the Romanist and Spanish party, 
 composed of men who, sooner than that France 
 should cease to be orthodox, were prepared to sacri- 
 fice her national existence. 
 
 Secondly, there was the faction of Lorraine, the 
 Guises and their adherents devoted, under the pre- 
 text of religion, to the aggrandisement of their 
 House. 
 
 And thirdly, the Huguenots who wished to over- 
 throw the religious system hitherto accepted by the 
 
 X83
 
 184 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 nation, or, at the least, to destroy the connection 
 between Church and State^ 
 
 Besides these the many princes and nobles who 
 sought only to advance their own personal fortunes, 
 to become hereditary rulers in their governments, 
 whether of province, town or castle, knew clearly 
 what they wanted. Believing and even hoping, that 
 the ship of the state was breaking up, each tried to 
 possess himself of some fragment ; but these selfish 
 wreckers can hardly be said to have had a policy. 
 The great majority of the nation were indeed con- 
 scious of the evils under which they were suffering, 
 but stood hesitating and uncertain by what means 
 they might be remedied. 
 
 j_ Henry of Bourbon was the lineal descendant of 
 St. Lewis, but for ten generations none of his ances- 
 tors in the male line had sat on the French throne. 
 He was the champion and leader of a violent minor- 
 ity ; if he, a heretic, was enabled by the swords of 
 his Huguenots and by virtue of strict legitimist 
 principles to establish his claim to the throne, this 
 would be the triumph of one, and that the least 
 popular, of the three existing constitutional theories"^ 
 
 It was only a minority, chiefly composed of law- 
 yers, who asserted that indefeasible hereditary right 
 must, under all circumstances, determine the descent 
 of the Crown. 
 
 The principle of ultimate popular sovereignty, 
 that the King derives his power, if not from election, 
 at least from the consent of the people, historically 
 true of the earlier Capetian monarchy, and never 
 wholly forgotten, had been recently revived, mainly
 
 i592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 185 
 
 by the Huguenot writers. The greater part of the 
 Catholic clergy and many of the laity believed in the 
 indissoluble connection of Church and State. In their 
 eyes the title of the "Very Christian King " de- 
 pended on his coronation and unction with the 
 miraculous oil at Rheims. It could hardly therefore 
 be expected that the conservative and personal 
 feeling which had attached the majority of the 
 nobility and of the magistracy to Henry III. would 
 be transferred to Henry IV. 
 
 I On hearing of the attempt on the King's life, 
 Navarre had hurried from his quarters at Meudon 
 to the bedside of Henry III. at St. Cloud. Holding 
 his successor's hand the dying man had said to the 
 nobles who were thronging the room, " I beg you 
 as my friends, and command you as your King, to 
 recognise my brother here after my death." Upon 
 which all present had with many protestations 
 pledged their faith to Henry of Bourbon.^ 
 
 But all was changed when sixteen hours later he 
 again came to the royal quarters. He was received 
 as their liege lord by the officers of the household, 
 but in the,chamber of death he found the corpse 
 watched by two friars and many courtiers, who, after 
 a scanty salute, gathered in knots with scowling 
 faces and angry gestures, loudly protesting to each 
 other that they would rather die a hundred deaths 
 than serve a heretic master. 
 
 D'O, a man of the vilest reputation, who, by the 
 ignominy of a " mignon " and the arts of a swindler, 
 had earned the office of minister of finance, whose 
 shameless prodigality was supported by an insatiable
 
 1 86 Henry of Navarre. ii589- 
 
 rapacity, had the effrontery to present himself before 
 Henry, as the spokesman of those whose tender con- 
 science would not allow them to acknowledge an 
 unorthodox Prince. If he would at once abjure 
 his heresy and engage not to confer of^ce on any 
 Huguenot, then they were prepared to be his obedi- 
 ent subjects. 
 
 But Henry, who had found time to consult some 
 of his most trusted advisers, though paling with 
 anger, restrained his indignation and returned a 
 politic as well as spirited answer. " Would they 
 take him by the throat in the first moment of his 
 accession, and forgetting the oath which they had 
 sworn but a few hours before t6 their murdered 
 master, seek to compel him to a compliance which 
 so many simple folk had been able to refuse, because 
 they knew how to die? Who but a man entirely 
 without religion would change his faith in such 
 fashion? Would they prefer an atheist for King? 
 or to be led on the day of battle by a man without 
 any fear of God ? He was ready — as he had always 
 been — to receive instruction from a council of the 
 Church, and meantime would refuse r|(Ji|-easonable 
 pledges to the Catholics ; although his fiast treat- 
 ment of them was the best guarantee for the future." 
 
 He had scarcely spoken when Givry, one of the 
 most gallant of the late King's officers, who had 
 been serjt to sound the disposition and to secure the 
 adhesion of the camp, came in and clasping the 
 King's knee, said " in his pleasant way, " " I have 
 seen, Sire, the flower of your brave gentry. They 
 are impatiently awaiting your commands. You are
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 187 
 
 the King of all brave men — none but cowards will 
 desert you." 
 
 Almost at the same moment Sancy introduced the 
 forty captains of the Swiss companies who had come 
 to kiss the King's hand and to offer their services. 
 Sancy was renowned as a skilful diplomatist, but he 
 had never given a more striking proof of his ability, 
 nor one more useful to his country than by now per- 
 suading these mercenaries so far to abandon their 
 native prudence as to promise to serve the King of 
 France three months on credit. Henry embraced 
 him and grasped the hands of the Swiss leaders ; to 
 them, he said, he should owe his throne. 
 
 The Marshal Biron, who of all the Royalist cap- 
 tains had the greatest military reputation and most 
 authority with the army, reproached Sancy for his 
 too great zeal. " I thought you," he said, " a wise 
 man, but you are doing your best to spoil a good 
 opportunity of making our fortunes." But the 
 promise of the county of Perigord and of other 
 bribes to his insatiable greed and vanity, induced 
 Biron not^anly to undertake to serve the King him- 
 self, but alio to act as a mediator between him and 
 the malcoi)tents. 
 
 The result of this negotiation was that, ten days 
 later (August 4th), Henry signed a declaration in 
 which he solemnly undertook to maintain free from 
 all innovations the Catholic, Apostolic and Roman 
 faith, to submit himself to the instruction of a 
 general or national council within six months if 
 possible, to deprive none of the dignities and offices 
 they had held under the late King, to appoint no
 
 1 88 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 Protestants during the next six months to any vacant 
 dignity or office and to grant to the Huguenots no 
 privileges of worship or other advantages to which 
 they were not already entitled by the treaties and 
 edicts of Henry HI. In return for these conces- 
 sions, the majority of the Catholic nobles consented 
 to recognise him as their King. 
 
 Yet the royal army began to melt away. Epernon 
 left the camp with 7,000 men ; he professed that he 
 could do the King better service in his governments 
 of Saintonge and Angoumois. His intention was 
 to watch the turn of events, and if the opportunity 
 offered, to establish himself as an independent ruler. 
 Many other nobles followed his example. 
 
 It was perhaps the hope that he might succeed the 
 King of Navarre in the protectorate of the Churches 
 which made the Duke of Thouars (la Tremoille) 
 hurry back to his fiefs in the Protestant districts of 
 the South-west. The Gascon and Poitevin Hugue- 
 nots who followed him might with more reason ex- 
 cuse their departure by the state of destitution in 
 which they found themselves. 
 
 (Soon the royal army was reduced fo half its 
 numbers, while that of the League was constantly 
 strengthened by the arrival of Spanish or native 
 reinforcements. To persist in remaining before 
 Paris was to invite disaster, yet the retreat of the 
 King appeared a confession of weakness and encour- 
 aged the impression that he would be no match for 
 his opponents. The League not only held Paris 
 but most of the great towns. They already out- 
 numbered the King in the field, and would soon be
 
 1592] Ca7i a Heretic be King of France? 189 
 
 joined by the mercenaries who were being levied 
 with Spanish and Papal money in Germany, and if 
 these did not suffice, Philip II. promised the sup- 
 port of Parma's invincible veterans. Henry IV., on 
 the other hand, was penniless, even his Huguenots 
 were beginning to desert him, and it was believed 
 that he must either retire south of the Loire, or be 
 driven to seek a refuge at the court of his ally the 
 Queen of England. ^ 
 
 But in truth the strength of the League was more 
 apparent than real. That it became more and more 
 subservient to Philip XL, more and more dependent 
 on Spanish money and Spanish soldiers, was at once 
 a proof and a cause of its weakness. Why, if it was 
 so strong and popular, was it compelled to rely on 
 foreign support ? Villeroy, an able statesman, though 
 timid to the verge of dishonesty, and who, dismissed 
 from office by Henry III., had joined Mayenne, 
 wrote, " We must render to the King of Spain the 
 credit and the gratitude due for our existence." 
 But it was the conviction that they could only main- 
 tain themselves by Spanish help which made him, 
 and all the less fanatical and reckless among his party, 
 anxious to come to terms with the legitimate heir 
 to the crown, and opponents of the extreme courses 
 Avhich made a future reconciliation more difficult. 
 Nor was there any agreement on other points among 
 even those who were unanimous in inveterate hos- 
 tility to Henry of Bourbon. The spurious ultramon- 
 tane democracy of the great towns was eager only 
 to secure the re-establishment of Catholic orthodoxy 
 and a large measure of local independence. The
 
 190 Henry of Navarre. P5893 
 
 leaders of this party, who revered in PhiHp II. the 
 champion and temporal head of Romanism and the 
 dispenser of the treasures of the New World, would 
 willingly have thrown the Salic law overboard, and at 
 once have recognised the Infanta Clara Eugenia 
 (Isabella), the granddaughter of Henry II., as their 
 Queen. When we condemn this subservience to 
 Spain, it is only fair to remember that Artois, 
 Franche Comte and other French-speaking prov- 
 inces among the dominions of the Spanish King, en- 
 joyed a large measure of provincial independence 
 and did not feel their nationality to be endangered. 
 But the pretensions of Philip II. were odious to the 
 Guises and to the few great nobles who had joined 
 their faction. The personal government of the Es- 
 curial would not be compatible with the feudal 
 independence which it was hoped to re-establish, 
 nor was the House of Lorraine struggling to snatch 
 the Crown from the Bourbons in order that they 
 might place it on the head of the Hapsburgs. 
 
 The Guises themselves were not united. The Duke 
 of Mayenne was jealous of the rising popularity of 
 his nephew, the young Duke of Guise. He could 
 scarcely venture to hope for the Crown himself, and 
 apparently did not see how any settlement satisfac- 
 tory to his ambition could as yet be brought about ; 
 he was therefore content that matters should drift on, 
 his only policy was to prevent, so far as in him lay, 
 every definite solution, in the hope of profiting by 
 any, as yet, unforeseen chance. 
 
 The wholly selfish and unpatriotic aims of the 
 leader of the League were not compensated by any
 
 tS92] Ca7t a Heretic be King of France f 191 
 
 exceptional ability, by any special aptitude for the 
 part he was called upon to play. That Mayenne 
 should have been praised, even by Protestant his- 
 torians, for probity and humanity, that he should 
 evidently have been regarded as a Prince of more 
 than average virtue, is most damning testimony 
 against the age in which he lived. He was suspected 
 of more than one murder, not to mention the assas- 
 sination with his own sword of a soldier of fortune 
 who had dared to aspire to the hand of his step- 
 daughter. He was cautious and prudent both in 
 policy and in war, but these respectable qualities pre- 
 vented him from venturing to seize the object of his 
 ambition when it was perhaps not beyond the reach 
 of audacity, and did not fit him to cope with the 
 restless and daring energy of his opponent. 
 
 It was also fortunate for Henry IV. that being 
 unable to agree in the settlement of the succession, 
 his opponents sought to postpone the difficulty by 
 proclaiming the old Cardinal of Bourbon King. By 
 so doing they recognised the legitimacy of the claim 
 of his family to the throne and set up as the rival of 
 the undoubted head of the house an old man, nearly 
 imbecile, of whom, even in his youth, Calvin had said 
 that unless quickened with wine he was more lumpish 
 than a log, and that he might well be mistaken for a 
 wineskin or a cask, so little had he of the semblance 
 of a human being ; — an old man, moreover, who, at 
 this juncture, was a prisoner in the hands of his 
 nephew. 
 
 ' Although the League held the Capital and many 
 of the most important towns, it may be doubted
 
 192 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 whether it anywhere commanded the hearty alle- 
 giance of a majority. In Paris we are assured a 
 violent minority terrorised the loyal and law-abiding 
 citizens by means of foreign mercenaries and of the 
 rabble, hired by the doles of the convents and the 
 bribes of Spain, j 
 
 ' But if his opponents were so weak, how came it 
 that so long and doubtful a struggle had still to be 
 waged before the authority of Henry IV. was univer- 
 sally acknowledged ? The King's difficulties were, 
 we shall find, due not so much to the strength or 
 statecraft of his native opponents as to the interven- 
 tion of Spain and to the want of loyalty and unanim- 
 ity among his own partisans, and perhaps also to the 
 misery and exhaustion of the nation, so reduced by 
 suffering that it lacked the strength and spirit needed 
 for the vigorous effort by which alone it could throw 
 off the maladies under which it was perishing. . 
 
 The body politic appeared to have reached the last 
 stage of dissolution, and it profited but little that 
 there should now be a vigorous will at the centre of 
 the government, when all the departments of state, 
 the nerves, so to speak, by which that will might 
 have set the limbs in motion, were paralysed or dis- 
 ordered, and those limbs themselves wasted and 
 powerless through misery and privation ; when the 
 supplies which are as necessary to the political, as 
 food is to the physical organism, were either not to 
 be obtained, or if obtained were diverted from their 
 natural and wholesome uses, further to inflame the 
 peccant humours. 
 
 " France," says a contemporary poem, " is like a
 
 1592] Cafi a Heretic be King of France? 195 
 
 storm-tossed vessel surrounded by reefs and breakers, 
 whose crew have deserted the care of sails and helm 
 to turn their guns upon each other. Conquerors or 
 conquered, the most they can hope is to be the last to 
 perish in the universal wreck. Her cities are full of 
 injustice and violence; the just judge is dragged be- 
 fore the judgment seat of the criminal. Yet those 
 who in walled towns snatch, arms in hand, a pre- 
 carious sleep are happy compared with the miserable 
 country folk. All that the earth can do for those 
 who taught the streams to water her green fields and 
 enamel them with flowers, who decked her with 
 golden harvest and purple vintage, is to offer them th^ 
 shelter of her forests, the covert of the boar and the 
 lair of the wolf. There perhaps they may escape the 
 soldiers, who to compel them to disclose their poor 
 hoards, their only resource against starvation, sus- 
 pend them by their thumbs with cutting cords, or 
 scorch their greased and naked bodies with burning 
 brands, or hang by the feet their children, torn from 
 the breast. . . . Man is no longer a man when he 
 feeds on grass and roots, on raw flesh and carrion, 
 when the starving children gnaw the bark of the 
 forests, while the village streets are the abode of 
 wolves and foxes, the houses, without furniture, doors 
 or windows, bearing mute witness to the crimes that 
 they have seen." This might perhaps be thought 
 poetic rhetoric, but the sober lawyer, L'Estoile, is 
 not less emphatic. " In this month the people almost 
 throughout France were dying of famine and went in 
 bands cutting and eating the unripe ears of corn." 
 
 " In this month companies of robbers went through 
 13
 
 194 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 the land robbing and plundering the houses of gentry 
 and labourers of all they contained." Such are the 
 constant entries in his diary. So also Villeroy com- 
 plains that the towns which were rich before the Civil 
 Wars had now become desolate and poor; that there 
 was no longer any justice ; the magistrates being no 
 longer paid, lived in constant apprehension and 
 misery. That all cities, and Paris more than any, 
 were full of fear and discontent, confusion, faction 
 and poverty ; while if the towns were wretched no 
 words could describe the misery of the open country, 
 the villages deserted, the fields fallow, the face of the 
 earth hideous and deformed. 
 
 No wonder that the peasantry were beginning to 
 join together in armed bands, for those who had 
 been robbed of all could still fashion some rude 
 weapons formidable in the hands of despair, and 
 that gentry and nobles dreaded a revival of the 
 Jacqueries of the Hundred Years' War. 
 \ Such, however, was the state of things which many 
 among the King's followers were anxious to perpetu- 
 ate. So long as the war lasted and his authority was 
 disputed, they believed that they could extort a high 
 price for their services and immunity for their crimes 
 and extortions."^ 
 
 So much was clear, that the rule of Henry of 
 Bourbon would be a very different thing from that 
 of the last Valois, — that it would at least be a real- 
 ity. It was therefore dreaded by all those who had 
 usurped or who still hoped to usurp an authority 
 which did not belong to them, by all those who prof- 
 ited by abuses and irregularities which a strong gov-
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 195 
 
 ernment was certain to check, and there were many 
 such among the nominal adherents of the King. 
 
 Nevertheless there can be little doubt that, with- 
 out Spanish intervention, Henry IV. would before 
 long have overcome the obstacles raised by the open 
 hostility of the League, and by the treacherous 
 jealousy and ill-will of his own followers. Yet that 
 intervention, although it protracted the struggle in 
 France, is not to be regretted by Europe. It diverted 
 from the Low Countries the treasures and the men 
 which might have enabled Parma to complete the 
 subjugation of the Dutch. The Spanish invasion of 
 France in 1590 postponed for two years Henry IV's 
 entry into his capital, but it gave Maurice of Orange 
 an opportunity and a sorely needed breathing space. 
 
 Breaking up his camp before Paris the King sent 
 the levies of Picardy under the command of the 
 Duke of Longueville, and accompanied by 3,(X)0 
 Swiss, back to their province, and the Marshal d'Au- 
 mont to Champagne with the same number of Swiss 
 and the gentry of that district ; while he himself 
 with the rest of his forces, — some 10,500 men — 
 marched into Normandy. 
 
 He wished to prevent the Leaguers from drawing 
 money and supplies from the wealthiest province of 
 France, to confirm the loyalty of the well-disposed 
 nobility and governors, to determine those who were 
 wavering and by threatening Rouen to divert 
 Mayenne from attacking the Royalist garrisons 
 round Paris. A third motive was the necessity of 
 securing a port, conveniently situated, for keeping 
 up communications with England. Elizabeth had
 
 196 Henry of Navarre. [1589 
 
 at first demanded a promise to cede Calais as the 
 price of effective help, but Henry IV., at the time 
 of his utmost necessity, and when his opponents 
 were bribing the King of Spain and the Duke of 
 Savoy by hopes of the partition of France, refused 
 to cede an inch of French territory, and the English 
 Queen, with more than usual generosity, had with- 
 out further huckstering promised ample assistance 
 of supplies and men. 
 
 Many of the Norman towns opened their gates at 
 the King's approach, others he occupied by force. 
 The governor of Dieppe had been among the first to 
 recognise the King's authority. (August 6, 1589.) 
 
 Dieppe was the wealthiest and most prosperous 
 of the Norman ports. The tidal harbour was safe 
 and convenient for the largest ships which at that 
 time navigated the Channel. The population of the 
 town, composed for the most part of wealthy traders, 
 and of hardy fishermen and sailors, well trained in 
 the use of arms, was more numerous than that 
 which now brings home the cod of Newfoundland 
 and the herrings of the North Sea, or ministers to 
 the wants of a fashionable crowd of summer visitors. 
 
 Of the twenty-five or thirty thousand inhabitants 
 a large proportion were Protestants : while the Catho- 
 lics among the rich merchants and other leading men 
 were like their governor determined enemies of the 
 League. The Spaniard was the natural enemy and 
 prey of the seafaring population on both sides of 
 the Channel. The fortifications of Dieppe were 
 strong and in good repair, well supplied with artil- 
 lery and defended by a garrison — including the
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? igf 
 
 local militia, — 6,000 strong, all well drilled and 
 equipped by the care of the governor and the liber, 
 ality of the townsmen. 
 
 Towards the end of August the King with a small 
 escort rode from his camp at Darnetal, three miles 
 from Rouen, to Dieppe. The inhabitants received 
 him with enthusiastic loyalty, but he cut short the 
 laboured discourses of the magistrates : " No cere- 
 mony, my children ; I only want your love, good 
 wine, good bread and friendly faces." 
 
 Two days sufficed to confirm the zeal of the citi- 
 zens, to inspect the fortifications and to learn the 
 military capabilities of the neighbourhood. Scarcely 
 was the King back at Darnetal when the news came 
 that Mayenne was on the march from Paris. Eight 
 hundred thousand gold crowns sent by Philip II., 
 and the contributions, voluntary or forced, of the 
 richer citizens had enabled him to collect a formida- 
 ble army of 25,000 foot and 8,000 horse. 
 
 He boasted that he would soon bring back " M. 
 de B6arn," " the Gascon heretic," or drive him into 
 the sea, and the more fervent and credulous of his 
 partisans already began to hire windows from which 
 to view his triumphal entry into the Capital. 
 
 It would have been madness for the King with his 
 small army to have awaited the attack of his oppo- 
 nent at Darnetal, with the great and hostile town of 
 Rouen in his rear. He therefore fell back upon 
 Dieppe, where he could face his enemies and await 
 the English, Scotch and Dutch succours and the 
 approach of the other divisions of his army under 
 Longueville and D'Aumont. The position he had
 
 198 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 chosen, five miles from Dieppe, was defended by 
 three little rivers, by woods and marshes and rested 
 upon the village and castle of Arques. The zeal of 
 the inhabitants of Dieppe, who turned out to work, 
 men, women and children, enabled the King to 
 strengthen his line by earthworks and by an en- 
 trenched camp, commanding the main road to 
 Dieppe. The slow and cautious approach of May- 
 enne gave Henry full time to make every preparation 
 that prudence could suggest. There was nothing to 
 which he did not himself attend ; his indefatigable 
 activity was a marvel to all — even to himself. " It 
 is a wonder that I am alive," he wrote to Mme. de 
 Grammont, " I am so hard worked ; but I manage 
 to keep well, and my affairs prosper better than 
 some folk expected. ... I hope, with God's 
 help, that if they attack me they will find that they 
 have made a bad venture." This was written on 
 September 7th ; on the 13th Mayenne was in front of 
 the royal lines; on the i6th he attacked the suburb 
 of Le Pollet, which he hoped to carry without much 
 difficulty and the possession of which would have 
 given him the command of the harbour and prevented 
 the English reinforcements from reaching the King. 
 But meeting with an obstinate resistance, both there 
 and at Arques, where he had attempted a diversion, 
 he drew off his troops and, after the next day had 
 been spent in sallies and skirmishes, determined to 
 mass his men for a decisive attack on the entrenched 
 camp and other works defending the direct approach 
 to Dieppe. 
 
 Three days were spent in preparations. Early on
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 199 
 
 the morning of September 21st (about 5 or 6 A.M.), 
 the Leaguers silently advanced to the attack under 
 the cover of a thick autumnal fog, which not only 
 concealed their approach, but also, when the attack 
 had begun, prevented the King from using his artil- 
 lery. Yet the Catholics were unable to make any 
 impression on the Royalist position, till their German 
 mercenaries cried out that they too were Protestants 
 and wished to surrender, upon which their country- 
 men and the Swiss in the royal service held out their 
 hands and the butt end of their lances to help them 
 over ditch and rampart. These lansquenets at first 
 obeyed the orders of the King's ofificers to draw up 
 apart, but when some of the Leaguers appeared to 
 be about to force the entrenchments, then, either 
 from premeditated treachery, or because they wished 
 to earn their pardon from those whom they now 
 believed to be the victors, they suddenly turned upon 
 the Royalists. For a time it appeared as if Henry 
 IV. must fall back. The treachery of the Germans 
 had driven him from his first line. He had charged 
 ten times at the head of his division, and two horses 
 had been killed under him, but neither his own exer- 
 tions nor those scarcely less determined of his fol- 
 lowers would have been able to keep in check the 
 heavy masses of Mayenne's mail-clad horse and the 
 serried columns of his Swiss and German infantry, 
 had not the sun at the most critical moment scat- 
 tered the fog, so that the guns of the Castle of 
 Arques began to play upon the advancing Leaguers, 
 while at the same moment Chatillon appeared lead- 
 inCT the Huq;uenot g-arrison of Le Pollet. " Here we
 
 200 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 are, Sire," their commander shouted as they passed 
 the King, " ready to die with you," while his men 
 broke into that fierce chant, " Let God arise," which 
 on so many fields from the Danube to the Boyne has 
 struck dismay into the hearts of the enemies of Prot- 
 estantism. The Leaguers were driven from the posi- 
 tions they had won, and Mayenne fell sullenly back. 
 
 Long after Aubigne asked the Captain-General of 
 the League to what cause he should ascribe his de- 
 feat at Arques. After a moment's pause the Duke 
 replied : " Write that it was due to the valour of the 
 old Huguenot phalanx, composed of men, who, from 
 father to son, were hail fellow well met with death." 
 
 The army of the League had only lost from 600 
 to 400 men, and Mayenne was able, five days after- 
 wards, to march round the King's position and occu- 
 py a height from which he could bombard the town 
 of Dieppe. But English vessels had already run 
 into the harbour, bringing ammunition and supplies. 
 On September 29th, 1,200 Scotch landed, and three 
 days later Elizabeth's fleet disembarked 4,000 men. 
 Henry IV. dined on the Admiral's ship, and the 
 besiegers might hear the salvos of ordnance, while 
 kettle-drum and trumpet brayed out the triumph of 
 the toasts he pledged. 
 
 The armies of Longueville, D'Aumont and La 
 Noue were collecting in the rear of Mayenne, his 
 supplies were intercepted by the King's garrisons, 
 his army was melting away — the day after the en- 
 gagement at Arques 3,000 men, mostly Parisian 
 militia, left his camp. Tlie trainbands of the towns, 
 like the noble volunteers, only conceived themselves
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 201 
 
 bound to serve during their good pleasure. Since 
 the arrival of the English reinforcements, whatever 
 chance there might have been of reducing Dieppe 
 was gone. The General of the League, therefore, 
 broke up his camp and retreated, glad that the ne- 
 cessity of obtaining help from the Spaniards gave 
 him a pretext for hurrying to Amiens and spared 
 him the mortification of returning baffled and de- 
 feated to Paris. 
 
 Shortly before the attack on Arques the Count of 
 Belin, a Leaguist ofificer, had been taken prisoner 
 and was received by the King with the courtesy and 
 caresses by which he generally sought to disarm and 
 win his opponents ; he v/as a very spaniel, his old 
 followers grumbled, whom you must beat if you 
 would have him fawn upon you. Belin in return for 
 the King's civilities said that from what he saw of 
 the strength of his Majesty's forces he feared that 
 he would not be able to resist the great army about 
 to attack him. " You forget, M. de Belin," was the 
 reply, " that part of my strength which you do not 
 see — the help of God and my good cause." The re- 
 pulse of the army of the League opened the eyes of 
 many to what M. de Belin had been unable to see. 
 It appeared likely enough that Heaven would help 
 one so indefatigable and brave in helping himself. 
 And it was seen that on earth, too, he had allies ; — 
 the ships and soldiers of the Queen of England, 
 fresh from the defeat of the Invincible Armada, the 
 treasures of the Dutch who thought their money 
 not ill spent if it should aid in diverting Parma to 
 France. " Arques," said a young prince who fought
 
 202 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 in the Royalist ranks, " was the gate through which 
 the King entered upon the path of his glory and 
 prosperity." 
 
 That Europe thought so too was shown by the 
 action of the Venetian Senate. That prudent oli- 
 garchy, in spite of the protests and threats of the 
 Spanish ambassador and of the papal legate, deter- 
 mined to recognise Henry IV. and to send an 
 embassy to his Court. That these wise statesmen, so 
 careful to trim the sails of their shattered bark to the 
 wind of success, should thus show that they believed 
 the future to be on his side, was an omen of sad im- 
 port to the French King's enemies and greatly raised 
 the hopes of his friends. 
 
 The first use made by Henry IV. of his victory 
 was to let it be understood that he was prepared to 
 grant the most liberal terms to Mayenne, not, he 
 said, that he feared him, but that his heart bled for 
 the sufferings of his people. The Lieutenant-Gen- 
 eral of the League, deaf to the arguments of Villeroy 
 and of the most honest among his advisers, rejected 
 all overtures. 
 
 After uniting his forces with those of his generals 
 the King advanced upon Paris with an army of 
 20,000 men. Slowly at first, hoping that Mayenne 
 would hurry to the defence of the Capital and give 
 him the opportunity of winning a pitched battle. 
 Then, finding that his opponent did not accept the 
 challenge and encouraged by messages from his par- 
 tisans within the walls, by forced marches. Before 
 daybreak on November ist, and in a thick fog, his 
 columns carried by assault in three places the sub-
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 203 
 
 urbs on the right bank of the Seine and all but 
 succeeded in entering the city itself pell-mell with 
 the fugitives they were driving before them. It 
 was perhaps well for the Royalists that they did 
 not succeed in penetrating into the town, where they 
 might have " been lost and overwhelmed in the 
 labyrinth of narrow and barricaded streets. 
 
 The suburb of St. -Germain was sacked, and it is 
 said that the slaughter of the Parisians by Chatillon's 
 men to the cry of " Remember St. Bartholomew ! " 
 greatly impaired for a time the popularity of the 
 King's cause in Paris. Yet the churches were 
 respected, no violence was offered to women, nor 
 were any victims slain in cold blood. Meantime 
 the Duke,, hearing that Paris was in danger, had 
 left Amiens and was advancing with all possible 
 speed. He entered the town two days after the 
 attack on the suburbs. Henry, after drawing up 
 his troops and offering battle in the plain of Mont- 
 rouge retired slowly towards the Loire, reaching 
 Tours on November 21st. 
 
 Through the province of Maine, which submitted 
 after the surrender of the Capital, Le Mans and 
 Brittany, where he was welcomed by the Parliament 
 of Rennes and by a loyal minority among the nobles, 
 the King marched into Normandy and in less than a 
 month had reduced to obedience all the important 
 towns and fortresses, with the exception of Rouen, 
 Havre and Avranches. 
 
 His necessities compelled him to levy contributions, 
 but all plunder and licence were severely punished ; 
 he showed the most scrupulous respect for the
 
 204 He7iry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 churches, and received all who submitted with the 
 most gracious courtesy. A harmless sarcasm was the 
 worst they needed to fear. When the magistrates of 
 a town which had only opened its gates after it had 
 been played upon by the royal batteries assured him 
 in a set harangue of that loyalty which was his by 
 divine and civil law, he corrected them with a smile : 
 "Cannon law you mean, gentlemen." 
 
 Meantime Mayenne was playing a difficult game 
 with considerable skill in Paris. Philip II's envoys, 
 Tassis and Mendoza, urged that their master should 
 be proclaimed "Protector of the Kingdom"; if he 
 was, he would pay the cost of the war. The taxes of 
 France should be devoted to paying her debts, and 
 Frenchmen should share the trade and wealth of the 
 New World with the subjects of his Catholic Majesty. 
 After the death of the Cardinal of Bourbon, the suc- 
 cession might be settled on some French prince with 
 the hand of the Infanta Isabella ; — offers, tempting 
 in themselves, but as little agreeing with Mayenne's 
 ambition as with the patriotism of those of his 
 advisers who had not forgotten that they were 
 Frenchmen. The authority of the Lieutenant-Gen- 
 eral of the Union would pale before that of the Pro- 
 tector of the Kingdom, and since the Duke was 
 married he could not hope to be the Prince favoured 
 with the hand of the Infanta ; while the sounder part 
 of the Catholic party, men who, believing in the in- 
 timate connection of Galilean Church and State, felt 
 unable to recognise an enemy of that Church as the 
 Most Christian King, were far from wishing to see 
 their country the tributary of Spain.
 
 15921 Can a Heretic be King of France? 205 
 
 As a temporary compromise all were willing to 
 recognise the Cardinal of Bourbon. It was known 
 that he could not live long, and meanwhile the Span- 
 iards trusted to be able, with the help of the Jesuits 
 and their other allies in the confessional and the pul- 
 pit, by large bribes and still larger promises, to pre- 
 pare public opinion for the succession of the Infanta. 
 The more patriotic Leaguers, statesmen such as Ville- 
 roy and Jeannin, hoped that time would be gained 
 for the conversion of Henry of Navarre, or, if he 
 proved obdurate, for securing the accession of some 
 Catholic prince of the House of Bourbon ; while 
 Mayenne, too cautious to attempt to seize the Crown 
 himself, could not hope to have more power than 
 while carrying on the government in the name of an 
 old man, a prisoner in the hands of his opponents. 
 Charles of Bourbon was accordingly proclaimed 
 King, and his supporters pledged themselves to 
 labour for his release and coronation at Rheims. 
 
 After this, on the ground that the large powers 
 which it claimed to exercise were inconsistent with 
 the authority of a legitimate and orthodox monarch, 
 Mayenne no longer summoned or consulted the 
 "Council General of the Union," but appointed a 
 Council of State attached to his person, composed in 
 part of the more important members of the Council 
 General, in part of Secretaries of State nominated by 
 himself. This was a revolution in the constitution 
 of the League. The Council General had been 
 largely representative and democratic — the Council 
 of State was the mere instrument of Mayenne's 
 personal government.
 
 2o6 He7iry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 But while the Spaniards, Guisards, Politicians and 
 Fanatics were intriguing against each other at Paris, 
 the King was extending his conquests. Meulanhad 
 been relieved, Poissy taken, and now he was threat- 
 ening Dreux. The possession of the towns on the 
 Seine enabled the Royalists to prevent the supplies 
 of Normandy reaching the Capital. If Dreux fell, 
 the rich crops of the fertile plain of the Beauce 
 would also be lost. Already the pressure of want 
 was felt. Mayenne, who had been joined by 2,000 
 Spanish and Walloon men-at-arms under the com- 
 mand of the Count of Egmont, and by some German 
 foot in the pay of Spain marched to the relief of 
 Dreux. The King, whose army was very inferior in 
 numbers, was compelled to raise the siege, and 
 Mayenne, having attained his object, would have 
 fallen back without offering battle, had he not 
 yielded to the representations of his officers. They 
 pointed out to him the superiority of his army to 
 that of the King; the Count of Egmont, zealous in 
 the service of his father's murderers, protested that 
 his mailed lancers would ride down the lightly armed 
 cavalry of the King. More trusted advisers whis- 
 pered to the Duke that the general of a victorious 
 army might boldly demand the Crown from the 
 representatives of the nation. If he could hope to 
 meet them on anything like equal terms Henry IV. 
 was not the man to baulk his opponents of their 
 wish to fight a pitched battle. During the two days 
 which intervened between March 12th; the day on 
 which he broke up his leaguer before Dreux, and 
 March 14th, that on which the battle of Ivry was
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 207 
 
 fought, his army was considerably increased by 
 reinforcements from Normandy and Picardy and 
 even from Champagne and the banks of the Loire. 
 Though impatient of a protracted campaign, the 
 French gentry scented a battle from afar, and eager 
 for the fray hastened to swell the King's ranks. But 
 even so, he was greatly outnumbered, and could 
 oppose only 2,200 cavalry and 8,000 infantry to 
 Mayenne's 4,000 veteran horse and 12,000 foot. 
 
 Du Plessis-Mornay, always first where he could 
 serve his master with pen or sword, reached the field 
 in time to charge in the first line of the King's 
 division, composed almost entirely of men of birth 
 and quality, but after the day was won he exclaimed : 
 " You have. Sire, committed the bravest folly that 
 ever was, in staking the fate of a kingdom on one 
 cast of the dice." 
 
 Yet Henry IV. had been careful to leave as little 
 as possible to chance. Nothing was omitted which 
 might enable his men to enter the battle with stout 
 hearts and vigorous bodies. The March night was 
 stormy and cold, but most of the royal troops were 
 lodged in the villages on the fringe of the plain of 
 Ivry, and large fires, tents and shelter were provided 
 for those who were compelled to encamp in the 
 open. A plentiful supply of wine and provisions 
 was distributed to all. The King himself visited 
 their quarters with such words to officers and men 
 as were likely to raise their enthusiasm to the highest 
 pitch. The Count of Schomberg, the Colonel of the 
 German mercenaries, asking on the previous day for 
 the arrears of pay due to his men, had received a curt
 
 2o8 Henry of Navarre. [i589- 
 
 reply : " Men of honour did not ask for money on 
 the day before a battle." Now Henry sought him 
 out: " M. de Schomberg, I insulted you. This may 
 be the last day of my life and I would not wrong 
 the honour of a gentleman. Pardon me, and em- 
 brace me." " Sir," replied the German, " yester- 
 day, it is true, your Majesty wounded me — but 
 to-day you kill me; for the honour you do me 
 obliges me to lay down my life in your service." 
 Schomberg kept his word ; obtaining permission to 
 leave his command and to charge with the King's 
 division, he forced his way into the densest ranks of 
 the enemy and fell fighting valorously. 
 
 The King protested to his followers that he fought 
 not for personal aggrandisement, but in the hope of 
 restoring peace and unity to his unhappy country, 
 and that it was his earnest prayer his life might not 
 be preserved, unless it was for his people's good ; 
 and since he passed much of the night in private 
 devotions it would be unjust to question his sin- 
 cerity. The edifying example of their leader was 
 followed by the royal army. The village churches 
 were full of Catholic Royalists hearing Mass and 
 confessing ; while the Protestants sang their psalms 
 and listened to the exhortations of ministers not less 
 valiant than pious.) 
 
 The zeal of the Swiss was stimulated by means 
 more congenial to the practical genius of their nation ; 
 40,000 crowns which the economy of Mornay had 
 provided were distributed among them. 
 
 '^The King threw himself down to rest for a couple 
 of hours, but before daybreak, was again astir, visit-
 
 1592] Ca7i a Heretic be Khig of France? 209 
 
 ing his men, explaining his simple plan of battle to 
 the officers and raising the spirits of all by his 
 cheerful confidence. In an army of barely 10,000 
 men, all could hear the words, could at least see the 
 countenance and be brought under the personal in- 
 fluence of their commander. ) 
 
 Henry's tactics were much the same as at Coutras. 
 He supported each division of cavalry by infantry on 
 both flanks ; and drew up his horse in deep masses, 
 so that they might be able to force their way through 
 the gaps made by the musketry in the enemies' 
 hedge of lances. Mayenne also placed his regiments 
 of infantry in the intervals of his cavalry, and drew 
 up his forces in the same order as those of the King, 
 except that as his army was much the more numerous 
 his line was in the form of a crescent. The Duke 
 himself, with his best men-at-arms, placed himself 
 with Egmont and his Flemish horse in the centre 
 opposite the King. After the rebels had formed 
 their line of battle they halted, and the King took 
 advantage of their hesitation to alter by a skilful 
 manoeuvre the position of his men, so that they 
 should not advance with the sun and dust in their 
 eyes. 
 
 The engagement began by nine volleys fired with 
 great effect by the King's cannon — ^some six pieces, 
 — a respectable field battery in those days. But 
 although Marshal d'Aumont drove the light cavalry 
 of the League headlong from the field, fortune did not 
 at first appear disposed to favour the Royalists. The 
 German Reiters and the Walloons broke the lighter 
 French horse, who in vain attempted to protect the
 
 2IO Henry of Navarre. ri589- 
 
 artillery. The Duke of Montpensier on the King's 
 left was driven back by the Duke of Nemours ; and 
 the advance of Biron's division, A"hich had been 
 stationed somewhat farther back tnan the rest of 
 the line, barely saved D'Aumont's cavalry from 
 being overwhelmed by their numerous assailants. 
 France, said an eye-witness, appeared to be on the 
 very verge of ruin. 
 
 Henry IV. saw that the decisive moment was 
 come, and himself prepared to lead his choicest 
 troops in the supreme and desperate struggle. As his 
 helmet, conspicuous by a vast plume of white pea- 
 cock feathers, was placed on his head, he cried : 
 " Comrades, God is on our side. There are his ene- 
 mies and ours, and here is your King. Should your 
 standards fall, rally round my white plume ; you 
 will find it on the path of victory and honour! " 
 
 Mayenne's horsemen outnumbered those of the 
 King by three to one, but fortunately at the mo- 
 ment of Henry's attack his opponents had been 
 thrown into confusion by the German Reiters, who 
 after their charge had fallen back, as their custom 
 was, to re-form behind their own line. Sufificient 
 space for this manoeuvre ought to have been left 
 between the corps supporting theni. But the 
 Leaguist officer, on whom the duty devolved of see- 
 ing that the different bodies of troops took up the 
 positions assigned to them, was shortsighted, and 
 had placed them too closely together ; and this mis- 
 take was the more serious, because, arranged as they 
 were in a crescent, they converged in advancing 
 upon the enemy. The Reiters finding no space left,
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France f 211 
 
 tried to force their way through Mayenne's and Eg- 
 mont's ranks, threw them into disorder and checked 
 their advance, so that the King was among them 
 before they could get into a charge or use their 
 lances with effect. Yet the contest was fierce and 
 for a time uncertain. Though Henry amply justified 
 by his intrepid valour what else had seemed a bom- 
 bastic vaunt, plunging into the enemies' ranks two 
 horse-lengths ahead of his followers, nor resting till 
 his sword was beaten out of shape, his arm spent 
 and swollen with changing blows, some of his men 
 had fallen back, thrown into confusion by a volley 
 poured into them at twenty-live yards by Mayenne's 
 musketeers. But the greater number pressed on, 
 fired by their King's example and emulating his 
 courage. The Count of Egmont fell and his Wal- 
 loons took to flight. Mayenne and Nemours seeing 
 their horse give way hurried from the field. The 
 infantry of the League as yet stood their ground 
 and outnumbered the whole army of the King; if 
 his cavalry had scattered in pursuit, the issue of the 
 day might have remained ambiguous and incom- 
 plete. But Henry had given most express orders 
 that his horse if they broke the enemy were to keep 
 their order and return to their positions. The Cath- 
 olic Swiss, when they saw that the King's guns were 
 about to be turned against their squares, did not 
 care to be shot down in the cause of a leader who 
 had proved an indifferent paymaster, and surren- 
 dered without a blow. The German foot would 
 gladly have done the same, but the memory of their 
 treachery at Arques was fresh, and they were cut
 
 212 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 down without compunction. A large part also of 
 the French infantry either perished on the field, or 
 were drowned in trying to cross the flooded Eure. 
 Mayenne, careful only to secure his own escape, 
 caused the bridge at Ivry to be broken down as soon 
 as he had crossed, but the King passed the river at 
 another place, and hunted him as far as the gates of 
 Mantes. 
 
 The victory was complete. The ^rmy of the 
 League was annihilated ; of 4,000 horse, 1,500 were 
 dead or prisoners. The infantry had disappeared, 
 the standard of Mayenne, black lilies on a white 
 field, and the red cornet of the Count of Egmont, 
 were among the King's trophies. 
 
 The unexpected and complete rout of their army 
 caused such alarm and confusion among the partisans 
 of the League at Paris that it was generally believed 
 that if the King had ridden straight on to the gates 
 of the Capital he would have met with no resistance. 
 He himself wished to make the attempt, but, with 
 the noteworthy exception of La None, the most 
 authoritative voices in his Council were loud against 
 such rashness. Continuous rains had made the 
 roads impassable. The treasury was empty and the 
 most necessary supplies not to be obtained. The 
 soldiers had exhausted their ammunition. Specious 
 reasons, but few of the King's advisers wished his 
 triumph to be speedy and complete. Least of all, 
 Marshal Biron, whose opinion had the greatest 
 weight in military matters. Even among the Prot- 
 estants, some like the Dukes of Thouars and Bouil- 
 lon thought the}' had more to hope from the
 
 15921 Can a Heretic be Ki7ig of France? 213 
 
 necessity than from the gratitude of Henry, while 
 many honest Catholics, believing that by his conver- 
 sion he might at any moment disarm all serious 
 opposition, did not wish him to secure the throne 
 without paying the price which he already, so to 
 speak, held in his hand. He might be honest in 
 protesting that he intended no change in the estab- 
 lished religion of the State ; but as a heretic he must 
 remain under the papal ban, and in a prolonged con- 
 test with Rome to what lengths might he not be 
 driven ? How painful in any case the dilemma to 
 his orthodox subjects ! On the other hand, if, as the 
 oflEicial phrase ran, he received instruction, Sixtus V., 
 whose hostility to the League and Spain was no 
 secret, would without delay welcome him into the 
 bosom of the Church. The more moderate of the 
 King's opponents were not less desirous of his con- 
 version than his Catholic supporters. Villeroy, who 
 had left Paris, visited his friend and neighbour Du 
 Plessis-Mornay, and endeavoured to prove to him 
 the necessity that Henry IV. should conform to the 
 religion of the large majority of his subjects, in order 
 that the perishing State might be relieved from the 
 misery of civil war ; while he pointed out to May- 
 enne with a frankness creditable to a man constitu- 
 tionally timid, that he was now entirely dependent 
 on Spain, and that Spain insisted upon being paid 
 for every soldier and every ducat by some strip of 
 territory, some sacrifice of French interests and inde- 
 pendence. The Guises asked for and expected Span- 
 ish doubloons, but Philip would send them Spanish 
 veterans. Besides, who could believe that the Duke
 
 214 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 was fighting for the CathoHc faith and the relief of 
 the people, who saw how those who followed him 
 served God by blaspheming His Holy Name, pil- 
 laging churches, violating every law human and 
 divine. "Our Union," he concluded, "from top to 
 bottom is nothing but disunion ; our towns are full 
 of lawlessness, riot and poverty ! " 
 
 The King had probably from the moment of his 
 accession looked upon his conversion as a conces- 
 sion which might become unavoidable, and he had, 
 as we have seen, even before 1589 prepared the way 
 for such a step by professing on all occasions his 
 willingness to " receive instruction " and to renounce 
 any errors of which he might be convinced. 
 
 Henry IV. was not an unbeliever, not inaccessible 
 to religious emotion ; in trouble or sickness he found 
 comfort in prayer and in the psalms which had 
 soothed his infancy, but his emotions were super- 
 ficial and transitory, his ambition deep and enduring. 
 His creed he said was that of all honest men. Yet 
 it cannot be doubted that in his heart he held 
 Protestantism to be nearer the truth than Romanism. 
 D'Amours preaching before the King, when it was 
 known that he had made up his mind to be con- 
 verted, warned him not to provoke God's judgment 
 by wilfully sinning against light. The Catholic 
 courtiers cried out that such insolence should be 
 punished. "Why," said the King, "what would you 
 have? he has only told me a home truth." 
 
 Perhaps Henry still hoped that he might be able 
 to establish his authority while remaining a Prot- 
 estant. Elizabeth of England had tried the policy
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France ? 215 
 
 of comprehension ; like him a latitudinarian, she had 
 endeavoured to establish a national Church on so 
 broad a basis that by degrees both CathoHcs and 
 Reformers might, it was hoped, be induced to attend 
 its services and be able to interpret its doctrine to 
 their own contentment. This attempt had failed. 
 The hostility of the Romanists was growing more 
 and more marked, and there were already signs that 
 the more logical Protestants would before long as 
 unequivocally reject the Anglican compromise. In 
 France, at any rate, it was clear that comprehension 
 was utterly impossible ; and Henry was determined 
 to adopt the other alternative, toleration. 
 
 But then the old principle of the French Mon- 
 archy — " one king, one faith, one law " — must be 
 abandoned, the close connection between Church and 
 State must be severed or at least relaxed. A State 
 Church, an established Church, might continue to 
 exist, and that Church could be none other than the 
 Roman Church, the Church of the vast majority, but 
 it would have to be recognised that those who were 
 not within its pale might be good and loyal members 
 of the State. 
 
 This could perhaps be best brought about if the 
 King, the personification of the State, the symbol of 
 national unity, was himself a Protestant, sufficiently 
 liberal and honest to respect the position and priv- 
 ileges of the Establishment. 
 
 If the King was Catholic, the identification of 
 Church and State would again appear so complete 
 that heresy might lead to disloyalty, that a man 
 who rejected the King's creed would not un- 
 
 X
 
 2i6 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 reasonably be suspected of wishing to impair his 
 authority. 
 
 Besides it was evident that the Protestant minority 
 must have an organisation — for the government of 
 their Church, if not for self-protection ; if the King 
 was a Huguenot he would be the natural head of 
 this body, if he was a Catholic the Protestant com- 
 munity might become a danger to national unity. 
 
 The army of the League was so entirely annihilated 
 at Ivry that Mayenne was scarcely able to collect 
 6,000 men in the course of the next five months. 
 Nor had his partisans been more lucky in other parts 
 of the country. It was noticed by the Royalists as 
 a remarkable and auspicious coincidence that on the 
 very day of the great victory the Leaguers of 
 Auvergne were routed and their leader slain, and 
 an attempt to surprise the garrison of Le Mans 
 defeated. 
 
 Henry IV., now that he was undisputed master of 
 the open country, determined to starve the Capital 
 into submission. Even had it appeared an easy 
 thing to take by assault a town defended by a 
 garrison of three or four thousand regular soldiers 
 and ten times as many armed and trained citizens, 
 the King was unwilling to expose his Capital to the 
 horrors of a sack. 
 
 When the first panic caused by the news of Ivry 
 was allayed, vigorous preparations were made for 
 the defence of the city. The Spanish ambassador, 
 Mendoza, was foremost in authority and counsel. To 
 him and to his master the defeat of Mayenne was 
 not wholly unwelcome ; for the Duke was now com-
 
 HENRY IV.
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France ? 217 
 
 pelled to lay aside all affectation of independence 
 and to approach Philip as an humble suppliant, al- 
 though secretly as determined as ever to play for his 
 own hand. 
 
 Careful inquiry showed that Paris which contained 
 220,000 inhabitants was provisioned for about a 
 fortnight. 
 
 The King's garrisons commanded the rivers ajid 
 roads, but the venality of their officers allowed many 
 convoys to pass. Eight thousand measures of corn, 
 I0,CXX) barrels of wine were added to the public stores. 
 For a month no scarcity need be feared, and long 
 before then, so the preachers assured their congre- 
 gations, Parma's matchless veterans would relieve 
 the Catholic King's " good city," or else God would 
 raise up a second Jacques Clement to save His 
 people in the hour of their need. And this perhaps 
 was the hope on which most reliance was justly 
 placed, for, as Henry wrote to his mistress, the num- 
 ber of assassins who were persuaded to attempt his 
 life was scarcely credible. The usual means, pro- 
 cessions, placards representing atrocities inflicted by 
 heretics and Royalists, virulent broad-sheets and 
 more virulent sermons, were employed to rouse the 
 fanaticism of the mob. The Sorbonne declared 
 (May 7th) that even if Charles of Bourbon on his 
 death-bed were to recognise his nephew as his heir 
 (the King of the League died in prison two days 
 later), and Henry abjuring his heresy were absolved 
 by the Pope, even then he would be incapable of 
 succeeding to the Crown. 
 
 Scarcely had this decision of the Faculty of The-
 
 2 1 8 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 ology been promulgated, when the citizens saw from 
 the walls the Royal army, 1 2,000 foot and 3,000 
 horse, drawn up in order of battle before the suburbs 
 of St. Antoine and St. Martin. Charenton and all 
 the fortified places in the neighbourhood fell, and 
 although an attack on St. Denis was repulsed, the 
 city was soon closely invested. 
 
 Before the beginning of August, although some 
 precarious supplies had found their way through the 
 royal lines, and although the Jesuits and other re- 
 ligious houses had been compelled to produce their 
 private stores, the Parisians had well-nigh exhausted 
 the disgusting though common dietary of famine, 
 rats and other vermin, boiled leather, ofTal and the 
 like, and were compelled to have recourse to even 
 stranger and more hateful viands. By the advice of 
 the Spanish ambassador bones were collected from 
 the cemeteries, ground down and baked into loaves. 
 But those rarely survived who ate of this so-called 
 " bread of Mme. de Montpensier." That lady herself 
 refused, it was said, 2,000 crowns for her lap-dog, 
 reserving it for her last meal ; but on what, mean- 
 time, was the animal itself fed ? A woman, and she 
 one of the wealthier sort, salted down her infants who 
 had died of starvation, but found in this Thyestean 
 banquet no sustenance, only madness and death. 
 The stomachs or fancy of the lansquenets was less 
 nice, if, as was believed, they carried off and roasted 
 any stray child they met. 
 
 On July 24th, the royal army, which had been 
 considerably reinforced, assaulted and carried the 
 suburbs. The walls of the city itself might no doubt
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 219 
 
 have been stormed, but the King knew the extrem- 
 ities to which Paris was reduced, and beheved it 
 to be impossible that it should hold out for more 
 than a few days. The people were daily dying by 
 hundreds, their corpses lay unburied in the streets, 
 noisome reptiles, toads and adders, multiplied in the 
 empty houses. Processions, sermons thrice daily, 
 the Host permanently exposed on the altars, nay 
 even Spanish silver could not stay the pangs of star- 
 vation. Everywhere the cry, " Peace or Bread," be- 
 gan to be heard. Parma indeed had sent word that 
 he was preparing to march, and hoped to unite his 
 forces with those of Mayenne on or before August 
 15th; but these tidings only increased the popular 
 despair. Why could not this have been done a 
 month, two months earlier? In a fortnight more 
 Paris would no longer be a city of the living, but a 
 vast charnel house ! 
 
 To satisfy the people, Nemours and his council 
 were compelled to send Gondi, the Bishop of Paris, 
 and Espinac, Archbishop of Lyons, to open negotia- 
 tions with Henry. Although they styled him King 
 of Navarre, he received them with courtesy, only re- 
 marking that their feet would be well scorched in 
 the next world for so misleading their flocks in this. 
 But he flatly refused to allow questions concerning 
 the general settlement of the nation to be mixed up 
 with a treaty for the capitulation of Paris. 
 
 It seemed impossible that the patience of the 
 citizens could endure for another week ; yet the 
 siege continued more than twenty days longer. 
 Henry's humanity prevented his triumph. He al-
 
 2 20 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 lowed many of the starving inhabitants to pass his 
 lines, three or four thousand miserable wretches on 
 one day ; thus exciting the indignation of his good 
 ally, the Queen of England. " If God," she wrote, 
 "shall, by His merciful grace, grant you victory, I 
 swear to you it will be more than your carelessness 
 deserves." He sent presents of food and of dainties 
 to the Princesses, even to his most determined 
 enemy, Mme. de Montpensier, and thus seemed to 
 sanction similar attentions to their friends on the 
 part of the nobles in his camp. The officers and 
 even the private soldiers at the outposts thought it 
 no great harm to sell small quantities of provisions 
 at enormous prices to the starving citizens ; an irreg- 
 ularity which it was difficult to check, since the King 
 could not pay his troops and did not choose to bribe 
 them by the prospect of the sack of the great city. 
 
 But though such chance supplies might enable the 
 besieged to struggle on a few days longer, Henry IV. 
 was confident that the final catastrophe was none the 
 less inevitable and near. Mayenne, whom he had all 
 but captured on his way to Laon, he did not fear, 
 and he could not believe that Parma would leave the 
 Netherlands and his all but accomplished task, to 
 march to the relief of the League, letting the sub- 
 stance go, to grasp at the shadow, as the Prince 
 himself complained to Philip II. 
 
 It was therefore a most unwelcome surprise to the 
 King to hear that the Governor of the Netherlands 
 with 13,000 men had joined the Lieutenant-General 
 of the League at Meaux on August 23d, and that 
 they were marching upon Paris.
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France f 221 
 
 La Noue, Bouillon, Henry himself, wished to leave 
 a sufficient force to prevent any convoys of provi- 
 sions entering the Capital, — the Parisians were so re- 
 duced, that it need not be numerous, — and with the 
 rest of the army to take up a strong position at 
 Claie, three leagues from Meaux, thus compelling 
 Farnese either to make a long circuit or to give 
 battle in a position advantageous to his adversaries. 
 In the latter case, there was every hope that a 
 decisive victory would end the war, in the former 
 that before the Spaniards could reach Paris the 
 Royalists would be within the walls. 
 
 The Leaguer Villeroy and the Huguenot Aubigne 
 agree that this plan would have been successful. 
 But the strenuous opposition and specious argu- 
 ments of Marshal Biron induced the King to with- 
 draw his forces from all the posts they occupied 
 round Paris, and to offer battle to Parma in the 
 plain of Bondy. 
 
 The forces of the Duke of Parma were about equal 
 to those of the King of France. His Spanish 
 veterans had proved their quality on many a battle- 
 field amid Dutch dykes and swamps, in many a 
 wearisome siege and fiery assault ; their stubborn 
 valour and discipline, their rapacious and devilish 
 cruelty were the admiration and the dread of Europe ; 
 but to their general this expedition into France was 
 but an episode, and an unwelcome interruption in 
 the great contest to which he had devoted his genius 
 and his life, seeing the resolute countenance and 
 brave array of his opponents, he had no mind to risk 
 in a pitched battle the army without which he could
 
 22 2 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 not hope to attain the object of his ambition. When 
 he found himself confronted by the French army he 
 took up a position which Vv^as soon made too strong 
 for attack by the labour of his men, trained like the 
 Roman legionaries to the use of pick and spade. 
 Henry IV., following the usage of feudal warfare, 
 sent a herald to offer battle. Parma replied, that he 
 would fight when and where it was convenient to 
 him and not before. Five days the armies remained 
 opposite each other. Then by some skilful manoeu- 
 vres Farnese threw part of his forces across the 
 river, and taking Lagny, opened the navigation of 
 the Marne. Convoys of provisions were now pouring 
 into Paris, the King in vain attempted to lure or 
 compel the Spaniards to fight. The royal army 
 melted away. Henry did what, under the circum- 
 stances, was probably the best he could. He distrib- 
 uted his mercenaries as garrisons in the towns near 
 Paris, and himself retired into the Beauvaisis with 
 the most faithful of his friends and a small force 
 composed mainly of cavalry. 
 
 On September i8th Mayenne entered Paris, but the 
 past sufferings had been too severe, the future was 
 too threatening for the sight of the Prince who called 
 himself their deliverer to excite any enthusiasm 
 among the inhabitants. Parma also visited the city 
 he had relieved. But he pleased few. He humili- 
 ated Mayenne, making him feel that the Lieutenant- 
 General of the Crown of France must not presume to 
 think himself the equal of the Lieutenant of the King 
 of Spain. Even those Leaguers who were not unwil- 
 ling to be the servants of Philip were disgusted when
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of Fra7ice? 223 
 
 they found that the doubloons earned by their sub- 
 servience were not forthcoming. The Parisians bit- 
 terly complained that the Spaniard did not clear all 
 the neighbourhoodof the Royalist garrisons. Parma 
 did indeed take Provins and one or two small places 
 and next attacked Corbeil, but Corbeil resisted for 
 three weeks and the siege cost the lives of many of 
 his veterans. A few more such captures and his 
 army would be undone. Deaf therefore to the 
 entreaties of his allies and the outcries of the citizens 
 the Italian marched away, compelling Mayenne to 
 accompany him, pursued and harassed as far as the 
 Belgian frontier by the King and his horsemen. 
 
 No sooner had the Spaniards turned* their backs 
 than Paris was once more surrounded on every side 
 by hostile garrisons. Yet two things had been 
 achieved by Farnese. He had proved to Mayenne 
 that he was powerless without Spanish help and he 
 had prevented Henry from entering his capital a con- 
 queror and a Protestant. Yet it may well be doubted 
 whether he would have accomplished even so much, 
 but for the fatal advice of Biron. The Marshal was 
 determined to prolong the Civil War, that work-shop, 
 as La Noue terms it, of every iniquity detestable to 
 honest folk, but also, as Biron conceived, the work- 
 shop in which the edifice of his fortunes might be 
 completed. What to such as he was the ruin of their 
 country, the unutterable misery of thousands, com- 
 pared with the satisfaction of their ambition ? 
 
 Paris continued to be hemmed in by the royal gar- 
 risons. Provisions became ever scantier and dearer, 
 and strange diseases, the result of privation and un-
 
 224 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 natural food, decimated the population. Trade and 
 industry had ceased. The colleges of the University 
 were deserted. Desolate streets and empty houses 
 bore witness to the sufferings of a town which even 
 then owed much of its prosperity to the visitors who 
 were attracted by the fame of the gayest and most 
 pleasure-loving capital in Western Europe. But an 
 unsuccessful attempt to surprise one of the gates was 
 made the pretext for introducing a Spanish garrison 
 sufficient to guard the city against the despair of its 
 inhabitants as well as against assault. 
 
 As Philip II. had previously embarked on the In- 
 vincible Armada the men and treasures which would 
 have completed the conquest of the Netherlands, so 
 he now left Parma to struggle with insufffcient 
 resources against Prince Maurice, while he poured his 
 soldiers into France. Four or five thousand Span- 
 iards were sent into Brittany. The wife of the Duke 
 of Mercceur, the Leaguist governor of that province, 
 was descended in the female line from the old ducal 
 House, and Mercoeur had counted on Breton love of 
 independence for support in a struggle against a 
 prince in whose veins there ran no drop of the blood 
 of the Duchess Anne ; but he was soon so hard pressed 
 by the Prince of Dombes, the chief of the Loyalists, 
 that he had been compelled to beg for help from 
 Philip II. No sooner had the Spaniards landed than 
 Queen Elizabeth, who could not allow the Breton 
 ports to fall into the hands of Spain, sent 3,000 Eng- 
 lish to the assistance of the King's forces and Brittany 
 became the scene of a tedious war, little connected 
 with military operations in other parts of France, in
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 225 
 
 which English and Spaniards consulted rather their 
 own interests than those of their native allies. 
 
 In Languedoc also the League had been unable to 
 hold their own against the Duke of Montmorency 
 without foreign help, and a small Spanish army of 
 4,000 men garrisoned Toulouse. 
 
 The Duke of Savoy, who had crossed the frontier 
 as the champion of orthodoxy, was making rapid pro- 
 gress in Provence ; he had been received with royal 
 honours by the Parliament of Aix, had entered Mar- 
 seilles and scarcely concealed the ambitious hope of 
 reconstructing the Burgundian kingdom, a name 
 applied at different times to states of very various 
 extent, but embracing at least Provence, Dauphin6 
 and the country between the Saone and Jura as well 
 as Savoy and much of south-western Switzerland. 
 
 On all sides the neighbours of France were pre- 
 paring to divide the spoils of the expiring monarchy, 
 while the Spaniard was determined that the lion's 
 share should be his. 
 
 The death of Sixtus V. (August 2^, 1590), violent 
 fanatic though he was, and the election of Gregory 
 XIV. added to the difificulties of Henry IV. For 
 Sixtus, though he hated heresy much, hated Spain 
 more. Not long before his death he had been heard 
 to say that Elizabeth of England and Henry of Na- 
 varre were the only sovereigns living to whom, had 
 they not been heretics, he would have disclosed 
 the great projects he meditated, and he had not con- 
 cealed his displeasure that his legate Caetano allowed 
 himself to be the tool of the Spanish faction in Paris. 
 One of the most ardent preachers of the League an-
 
 2 26 Henry of Navarre. 
 
 [1589 
 
 nouncing from the pulpit the death of God's vicar, 
 thanked Him for deUvcring Christendom from a 
 "wicked and poHtical Pope." 
 
 But the opposition of open enemies was perhaps 
 not the greatest difficulty against which Henry had 
 to contend. His Catholic supporters began to ques- 
 tion the sincerity of the often repeated promise to 
 receive instruction. If he was in earnest, why, it was 
 asked, defer a step so advantageous to his interests? 
 If a dozen bishops and divines could not supply suffi- 
 cient learning to" enlighten the royal conscience, 
 would the more tumultuous theology of a council 
 suffice? 
 
 The Huguenots, on the other hand, complained 
 that it profited them nothing that a King of their own 
 faith and supported by their arms had ascended the 
 throne ; their condition had been better during the 
 last reign. Now, if three families met together to 
 pray for the King's prosperity, if a citizen sang a 
 psalm in his shop, or had among his wares a French 
 bible or psalter, they were punished as criminals by 
 the Royal Courts. 
 
 The Princes of the King's own family sought to 
 profit by the general discontent. A letter was inter- 
 cepted addressed to the Pope by the Cardinal of 
 Bourbon, the brother of the late Prince of Conde, in 
 which he excused himself for having hitherto ad- 
 hered to the King of Navarre. He had done so in 
 the confident hope of his conversion. But as he 
 was now convinced that this hope was futile and 
 that the head of his house was an obstinate heretic, 
 incapable of reigning, he begged the Holy Father to
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 227 
 
 assist him in establishing his right to the succession. 
 His elder brother, the Prince of Conty, might indeed 
 seem to have a prior claim, but he was deaf, as well 
 as deficient in mental and bodily vigour. The Car- 
 dinal indeed was himself little better than imbecile ; 
 but his abler brother, the Count of Soissons, had 
 joined in the intrigue to which many of those about 
 the King were more or less privy, even his mistress, 
 the Countess of Grammont. 
 
 Soissons, after fighting valiantly by his cousin's 
 side at Coutras, had been encouraged to hope for 
 the hand of the King's sister Catherine. The match 
 was a brilliant one for a poorly endowed younger 
 son, and the Princess herself was well worthy of a 
 disinterested attachment. But Henry changed his 
 mind and told Soissons that he must look elsewhere 
 for a wife. The lovers thought that after he had 
 himself brought them together the King had no 
 right to insist upon their separation, and Mme. de 
 Grammont, to whose care Henry had entrusted his 
 sister, permitted or encouraged their correspond- 
 ence, and listened to Soissons's schemes even when 
 stretched beyond the bounds of loyalty. Perhaps 
 she thus sought to avenge herself for the more fre- 
 quent infidelities and the growing coldness of her 
 lover. 
 
 Henry IV. had a pretty gift of writing love letters, 
 in which Jove might have found matter for perennial 
 laughter; and he was rarely wise enough to be off 
 with the old love before he was on with the new, a 
 want of prudence which was the source of much 
 vexatious and undignified embarrassment.
 
 22 8 Henry of Navarre. [i589- 
 
 Down to the end of 1590 he continued to write to 
 Corisande with his usual protestations of eternal 
 fidelity, kissing her fair eyes a million times and 
 omitting none of the common forms of epistolary 
 fervour, yet in the summer of the same year — not to 
 mention more commonplace gallantries — he had 
 been ardently courting a lady, who remained un- 
 moved by an offer of marriage even though written 
 in his blood, and by the well-known letter sent on 
 the eve of an expected battle with Parma. " My 
 mistress, I am writing this line to you the night 
 before a battle. The issue is in God's hands, who 
 has already ordained what it shall be, and what He 
 knows to be for His glory and for the good of my 
 people. If I lose it you will never again see me; 
 for I am not the man to turn my back. Yet this I 
 can assure you, that if I die, my last thought will be 
 of God, to whose mercy I commit both you and my- 
 self ; my last but one of you." 
 
 This Platonic infidelity to his Corisande was no- 
 torious; not less notorious the intrigues with the 
 abbesses of Poissy and Montmartre which had re- 
 lieved the tedium of the blockade of Paris. Mme. 
 de Grammont, perhaps was conscious that she 
 had become elderly, bloated, and red, and her 
 coldly sceptical annotations on letters written two 
 years earlier remain to show how little she was the 
 dupe of her royal lover's professed constancy — a 
 constancy he declared so great that it was a per- 
 petual marvel to himself. She probably felt that her 
 tenure of the of^cial position of mistress was very 
 precarious, and hoped by serving the ambition of the
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of Fraiice ? 229 
 
 younger Bourbons and the affections of Catherine 
 of Navarre to make herself friends who might re- 
 ceive her, if abandoned by the King. 
 
 Henry IV. on discovering the intrigue contented 
 himself with summoning his cousins to attend him, 
 trusting while they were under his eye to be able to 
 prevent any further treachery, and it is possible he 
 might have continued to throw himself at Cori- 
 sande's feet and to kiss her hands — at least on paper 
 — had not a new passion led him to seize so decent 
 a pretext for ending a now irksome connection. 
 
 During the campaign of 1590 Bellegarde, a favour- 
 ite officer, asked his master as they were passing by 
 Coeuvres, the seat of Antoine d'Estrees, to visit a 
 daughter of that gentleman whom he was courting. 
 The King went, and found that even a lover's tongue 
 had done scanty justice to the charms of Gabrielle. 
 No sooner had he left her presence, than he felt that 
 he must at all risks return ; but Coeuvres was sur- 
 rounded by parties of the enemy. Prudence and 
 dignity were laid aside ; disguised as a wood-cutter, a 
 bundle of straw on his head, the King of France 
 found his way to the feet of his mistress. At first 
 she laughed at the swarthy, grizzled, hook-nosed little 
 man who aspired to be the favoured rival of the brill- 
 iant Bellegarde, a model of manly beauty. But she 
 was dazzled by the splendid prospect of becoming 
 the acknowledged mistress of the King, and Henry 
 profuse in promise was scarcely less liberal in 
 performance. 
 
 To save appearances Gabrielle was married to a 
 M. de Liancourt, a widower with eleven children, so
 
 230 Henry of Navarre. [i589 
 
 ugly and elderly that he was not likely to provoke 
 comparisons unfavourable to the King. To the 
 young lady this was the least satisfactory part of 
 the arrangement, and after the King had publicly 
 acknowledged her first child, the superfluous husband 
 was got rid of by an indecent divorce. 
 
 Mme. de Liancourt was successively created 
 Marchioness of Monceaux and Duchess of Beaufort. 
 The portraits of the fair Gabrielle scarcely justify the 
 extravagant terms in which contemporaries celebrate 
 her beauty; and some scepticism is perhaps justi- 
 fied when we reflect that during her lifetime there 
 was every motive to flatter the all powerful favour- 
 ite, and that when dead she became a legend. 
 
 When, in her twentieth year, Gabrielle first met 
 the King, her figure, although already too mature, 
 was exquisitely proportioned. Her complexion was 
 fair and brilliant, her golden hair contrasted with 
 dark, well pencilled eyebrows, and long lashes 
 shadowing blue eyes, which though soft were bright 
 and lively. Her regular and placid features — whose 
 rare beauty, says Aubigne, was free from all wanton- 
 ness — suggested a candid and virginal innocence 
 strangely inconsistent with the scandals reported of 
 her youthful depravity. These stories, too vile to 
 bear repetition, were probably false, but the reputa- 
 tion of her family was thoroughly bad. Her mother, 
 a woman of no character, was one of a house noto- 
 rious for gallantry. She and her sisters had been 
 known as the seven deadly sins. 
 
 It is not therefore surprising, that the virtue of 
 Gabrielle was not of a kind to take alarm at the
 
 1592J Ca7i a Heretic be King of France f 231 
 
 bargain by which she passed into the King's posses- 
 sion, nor even sufficient to induce her to mitigate 
 the shame of it by observing from the first an in- 
 violable fidelity to her royal lover. The King's 
 letters prove that Bellegarde at any rate continued 
 to be a not unfavoured rival. 
 
 " The influence your eyes have on me," he writes 
 on one occasion, " saved you from half my re^ 
 proaches. But if I had known what I have since 
 learnt of my rival's visit, I should not have seen you, 
 but have broken with you for good. . . . What 
 more can you promise than you have already prom- 
 ised ? What oath can you swear that you have not 
 twice broken ? " It is characteristic that Henry ends 
 his, no doubt just, complaints by protesting that he 
 would give four years of his life to reach his mistress 
 as soon as his letter, and that a few days later he 
 should thank her for the gift of her likeness in such 
 terms as these : " I am writing to you, my dear love, 
 at the foot of your picture, which I worship because 
 it is meant for you, not because it is like you. I am 
 a competent judge, since you are painted in all 
 perfection in my soul, in my heart, in my eyes." 
 
 Men who allow themselves the grossest licence 
 not unfrequently expect their women to attain to an 
 almost ideal standard of constancy and purity. 
 Henry was less exacting. His experience of married 
 life had taught him to give and take in such matters; 
 and Gabrielle, though not a woman of much ability 
 — her prayer-book was her whole library, — knew how 
 to flatter the King, " the bravest man in all the 
 world," as she called him ; she protested that the
 
 232 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 least of his sufferings was mortal to her. " I am the 
 Princess Constance," she writes, " full of feeling for 
 what concerns you, insensible to all the world 
 besides." 
 
 On the whole, and compared with the intrigues 
 which caused much of the disquiet and sadly tar- 
 nished the glory of Henry's later years, his connec- 
 tion with Gabrielle d'Estrees was neither harmful to 
 the State nor disgraceful to himself. Even austere 
 Calvinists commended her modestly dignified be- 
 haviour, " that of a wife rather than of a concubine," 
 and occupying a position most exposed to envy and 
 malevolence she yet made few enemies. 
 
 Urged on the one hand by the Catholics to abjure 
 his heresy, and on the other by the Protestants to 
 make their condition under a king of their own 
 faith more tolerable, the King determined upon one 
 more effort to crush his enemies by force of arms, 
 before attempting a final settlement of questions 
 with which as a victor he would be able to deal more 
 satisfactorily. To quiet the impatience of the Hugue- 
 nots he meantime revoked such edicts as had been 
 extorted from Henry HI. by the League, and de- 
 clared those of 1577 and 1580 to be still in force; 
 while he endeavoured to allay the apprehensions of 
 the Catholics by reiterating his promise to " receive 
 instruction," and his firm determination to maintain 
 the Catholic and Apostolic Church in all her dignity 
 and privileges. He at the same time pointed out that 
 religion was but the pretext under which his foreign 
 and domestic enemies were pursuing the ruin and 
 partition of the kingdom.
 
 1692] Can a Heretic be King of France ? 233 
 
 By assembling a strong army of regular troops, 
 composed for the most part of foreign and Protestant 
 mercenaries, the King trusted to avoid two of the 
 difficulties which had hitherto prevented him from 
 reaping the full advantage of his victories. The one 
 was that of keeping the nobles and gentlemen who 
 served as volunteers in the field during a protracted 
 campaign or siege ; the other was that which arose 
 from the determination of many of his Catholic sup- 
 porters that he should not be too easily successful 
 and thus escape the necessity of abjuration. 
 
 Turenne, ably seconded by the arguments of an 
 English embassy, was sent to the Protestant Courts 
 of Germany, and when he returned at the head of 
 6,CK)0 German Reiters and 10,000 lansquenets, he had 
 fairly earned the reward of the staff of marshal and 
 of the hand of the heiress of the La Marks, in her 
 own right Duchess of Bouillon and sovereign Princess 
 of Sedan. 
 
 Elizabeth also, urged by Walsingham and by Es- 
 sex, forgot her wonted parsimony, and 6,ooo men 
 well supplied with artillery and with all the materials 
 of war landed under the command of the favourite 
 at Dieppe. 
 
 The English Queen once more asked for Calais 
 as the price of her assistance ; but to this de- 
 mand Henry would not listen. It was as bad, he 
 said, to be eaten by the lioness as by the lion ; and 
 whatever his enemies might do he would not buy 
 the throne by partitioning the kingdom over which 
 he aspired to rule. Like the true mother in Solo- 
 mon's judgment, rather than receive part of a
 
 234 Henry of Navarre. L1589 
 
 mangled corpse, he would altogether forego the pos- 
 session of his own. 
 
 He employed the spring and early summer of 
 1591 in reducing Chartres and other places in the 
 neighbourhood of Paris while his captains attacked 
 the towns held by the League in Normandy. Before 
 the end of the summer, the double crosses of the 
 League floated only over the walls of Havre and 
 Rouen. 
 
 The Parisians were again sorely straitened for 
 food. Mayenne was execrated for allowing Chartres, 
 the granary of Paris, to fall into the hands of the 
 enemy. The preachers had promised their congre- 
 gations that no such triumph should ever be granted 
 to the wicked. Should this happen, exclaimed one 
 fanatic, might the devil have his soul — but no, never 
 would the Bearnese, that dog heretic and tyrant, 
 take Chartres. 
 
 Mayenne had summoned a meeting of the Estates- 
 General at Rheims, but on the day fixed so few rep- 
 resentatives appeared that no attempt was made to 
 hold a sitting. Yet clearly, unless the succession 
 was settled, a pretender to the throne selected and 
 recognised, the opposition to Henry IV. could not 
 be continued. 
 
 The King of Spain was urgent that the claim of 
 his daughter should be at once acknowledged. He 
 was assured by the Sixteen and by the extreme party 
 that nothing could delight them more than that he 
 should reign over them; if that might not be, then 
 they and all good Catholics would be the loyal sub- 
 jects of the Infanta and of an}- son-in-law it might
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France f 235 
 
 please his Majesty to choose. The letters in which 
 the faction expressed their devotion to Philip II. 
 were intercepted by the Royalists and forwarded by 
 the King to Mayenne. The Lieutenant-General of 
 the League was already sufficiently perplexed by 
 the escape from prison of his nephew, the young 
 Duke of Guise, whom he dreaded as his most 
 dangerous rival. Guise, as the son of their martyred 
 hero, was highly popular with the Catholic mob, 
 and his marriage with the Infanta and election as 
 King by the Estates might have united the sup- 
 porters of the House of Lorraine, the Spaniards and 
 the democratic party, and have reduced the Lieu- 
 tenant-General of the League to insignificance. 
 
 Mayenne was therefore scarcely less anxious than 
 Henry IV. to prevent the marriage of his nephew 
 with the Spanish Princess. His wisest and most 
 staunch adviser, Jeannin, began to urge what Villeroy 
 had seen from the beginning : that the League could 
 be maintained only by Spanish help. " We cannot," 
 he said, " do otherwise than ascribe to the King of 
 Spain the credit and gratitude due for our existence, 
 but the payment which he demands involves the 
 sacrifice of the independence and future of France." 
 He therefore maintained that Mayenne ought to 
 conclude an arrangement on the best terms possible 
 with Henry of Navarre. The King's conversion in- 
 deed might be insisted upon, but, if this essential 
 point was secured, further resistance would be both 
 foolish and criminal. 
 
 The Duke affected to be convinced by the argu- 
 ments of his followers, but was none the less de-
 
 236 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 termined to let matters drift, careless, provided he 
 could glut his selfish greed, whether France became 
 Spanish or perished, the prey of more ignoble 
 domestic enemies. 
 
 Meantime the sympathy of all decent citizens in 
 Paris had been alienated by the violence of the 
 fanatics, who, trusting to the support of the con- 
 siderable Spanish garrison, had established a reign 
 of terror, and appealed although in vain to popular 
 passion. Privation, famine and pestilence had so 
 broken the spirit of the mob, that not even the 
 highly spiced invectives of the preachers and the 
 prospect of licence and plunder could arouse it to 
 acts of violence. 
 
 By the sale of Crown lands and of much of his 
 private domain, the King had raised a considerable 
 sum of money for the expenses of the campaign. 
 He was joined in September by the English com- 
 manded by Essex, and on the last day of the month 
 he met, in the valley of the Aisne, the Reiters and 
 lansquenets of Turenne, led by the Prince of Anhalt. 
 In November he undertook the siege of Rouen with 
 an army composed of between 5,000 and 6,000 
 English, as many Swiss, 14,000 Germans and only 
 5,000 French — an army of Protestants and merce- 
 naries. The capture of Rouen, the second town in 
 the kingdom, would have made him absolute master 
 of Normandy and of north-western France, would 
 have dealt a fatal blow to the League, and have com- 
 pelled the Parisians to acknowledge the authority of 
 a heretic king. Unfortunately Henry was compelled 
 to allow the Catholic nobles to occupy the most
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 237 
 
 important posts in his army ; had he not done so, it 
 would have been said, that trusting none but heretics 
 he obviously intended the ruin of the Church. As 
 it was, the success of the King's plans was made to 
 depend on the co-operation of men who were de- 
 termined that they should not succeed : the baser, 
 like old Biron, till their greed was gorged ; the less self- 
 seeking, till, by his conversion, he had pledged himself 
 to maintain the established religion. 
 
 Now, when their services would have been of ines- 
 timable value, Henry must sorely have missed two 
 men, so greatly trusted and respected both by Calvin- 
 ists and Romanists that their employment would have 
 given umbrage to none. La Noue, whose noble char- 
 acter and Christian resignation to the indignities and 
 sufferings inflicted on him in his Flemish prison by 
 the mean rancour of Philip II., had stirred the sym- 
 pathy of the cold and pitiless Parma, whose integrity 
 even Catherine de' Medici had not doubted, whose 
 disinterestedness no temptation had ever shaken, who 
 had been as unsparing of his fortune as of his blood 
 in the service of his religion and of his country, who, 
 keenly sensible of the pleasures of retirement, of 
 study and family life, had spent his years hurrying 
 from battle-field to battle-field — La Noue, the Protes- 
 tant Bayard, without fear and without reproach, had 
 fallen in August (1591) before Lamballe in Brittany. 
 The day before his death, gathering a spray of 
 laurel, and handing it to a kinsman he had said : 
 " There, cousin, is all the reward that you and I 
 may expect." 
 
 Scarely less lamented or less honoured by friends
 
 238 Henry of Navarre. [1589 
 
 and foes, Chatillon, Coligny's son, had died, con- 
 sumed, so it was reported, by disappointment and 
 melancholy, shortly after his skill as an engineer had 
 compelled the surrender of Chartres. His house of 
 Chatillon had been pillaged, his young brother D'An- 
 delot had been taken prisoner, and, seduced by the 
 caresses of the Guises, had forgotten his cause, his 
 religion and his father's blood. His son, a mere 
 child, had fallen fighting against the Spaniards in 
 Holland. His services had been requited by neglect, 
 although the King with ready tears lamented the 
 worth he had slighted when living. "Alas! I loved 
 him well ; he should have opened his heart to me 
 and it would have been my study to content him." 
 
 Biron, who had been sent to open the siege of 
 Rouen in November, delayed the attack on the ill- 
 fortified town and citadel until the Governor, Villars, 
 a man prepared to sell himself to the highest bidder, 
 but who, to enhance his price, was determined to 
 give no ambiguous proofs of his valour and capacity, 
 had had ample time to complete his preparations. 
 Great stores had been accumulated. The old walls 
 had been strengthened and new fortifications added 
 on every side. All useless mouths and all who were 
 suspected of royalism had been sent out of the city, 
 and everything done to raise the spirits and confirm 
 the resolution of those who remained. 
 
 Never would the citizens of Rouen acknowledge a 
 heretic as King of France ; such was the answer to 
 the herald who bade them open their gates to their 
 rightful sovereign ; and this temper was sustained by 
 constant processions, solemn oaths to resist to the
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France f 239 
 
 death, fiery sermons and eloquent decrees of the Par- 
 h'ament, and lest these should not sufifice, by gibbets 
 prepared in all public places for the traitors who first 
 spoke of treaty or surrender. 
 
 It was a perilous venture to begin the siege of 
 a strongly garrisoned and well provisioned city in 
 November. Yet it is possible that, had Biron not 
 been wanting in loyalty or resolution, the city might 
 have been carried by an immediate assault : in any 
 case, the King was compelled to use an army which 
 his finances could not maintain in idleness. Unfor- 
 tunately the winter proved exceptionally severe. 
 The trenches could scarcely be dug in the frozen 
 ground ; sickness and privations decimated the be- 
 siegers. Before the end of the year, Mornay had to 
 be sent to beg for further help from Elizabeth. 
 
 The old Queen was in no pleasant mood. She 
 complained that her men had been recklessly ex- 
 posed, that they had borne more than their share of 
 the hardships and privations of the siege ; out of 
 5,000 barely 600 survived. Henceforth she would 
 only assist the King of France with her prayers. 
 She was highly indignant with Essex for not coming 
 back when summoned and for exposing himself in 
 the trenches. As for the King himself, his reck- 
 lessness was incurable — apparently he wished to be 
 killed, yet he must know that everything depended 
 on his life. She even blamed the revocation of the 
 edicts against the Protestants as impolitic. 
 
 The United Provinces were less easily discouraged 
 — Parma might as well be fought in France as in the 
 Netherlands. Early in January a Dutch squadron
 
 240 Henry of Navarre. [1589- 
 
 brought 3,000 men and large supplies up the Seine, 
 and the losses of the besiegers were more than made 
 up by the numerous French Royalists who hurried to 
 the King's standard, when it was known that Far- 
 nese was assembling his forces for the relief of 
 Rouen. 
 
 By the end of January, Parma and Mayenne had 
 met and were advancing through Ponthieu. The 
 King, who had been pushing the siege with indomi- 
 table energy, endeavouring by his personal exertions 
 to remedy all that was done amiss or left undone by 
 Biron, believed himself strong enough to hold the 
 allies in check without breaking up his leaguer. 
 
 Leaving the Marshal with his infantry before 
 Rouen, he advanced to meet the Spaniards with 
 3,000 Reiters, 2,000 French horsemen, and 2,000 
 dragoons, a name then first given to troops who 
 were used as mounted infantry. 
 
 Near the little town of Aumale he met the enemy 
 23,000 or 24,000 strong, and when himself leading a 
 reconnaissance, was surrounded by a much larger 
 force of cavalry. Speedy flight would have ensured 
 his safety, but he persisted in charging to cover the 
 retreat of his escort ; he was wounded by a ball which 
 pierced the bow of his saddle, and was only saved from 
 capture or death by the devotion of those around him 
 and by the caution of Parma, who checked the pur- 
 suit, since he was convinced that the King of France 
 would not have ventured so boldly unless supported 
 by a considerable force. When he learnt what an 
 opportunity he had lost, he exclaimed in his vexa- 
 tion that he had supposed himself to be fighting
 
 1592] Can a Heretic be King of France? 241 
 
 against a general and not a guerilla chief. In little 
 more than a week Henry was again in the saddle, 
 harassing the advance of the Leaguers, cutting off 
 their parties and beating up their quarters. On 
 February 17th he attacked their camp by night, carry- 
 ing ofT much booty and many prisoners. Among 
 the latter the Count of Chaligny, a prince of the 
 House of Lorraine, was captured by Chicot, the 
 Court jester, a Gascon of sense and courage as well 
 as of merry wit. " Here, Henriot," he said, bringing 
 his prize to the King, "is a present for you." The 
 Count, enraged at the tone and quality of his captor, 
 struck him so violently on the head with the pommel 
 of his sword that Chicot never jested again. 
 
 The King's energy so delayed the advance of 
 Parma, that it was not till the end of February that 
 he found himself within striking distance of Rouen. 
 But Biron, instead of pressing the siege with energy, 
 had allowed himself to be surprised by Villars in 
 a furious sally on February 24th. The Royal- 
 ists lost 800 men, their ammunition and mines 
 were destroyed, their batteries overthrown, and 
 many of the guns triumphantly dragged into the 
 town. The old Marshal himself was wounded. 
 Parma might have now entered Rouen, but Villars 
 and Mayenne were so elated, that they trusted to 
 hold the town without the assistance of a Spanish 
 garrison. More than one intercepted despatch of 
 Mendoza and Tassis had been forwarded to Mayenne 
 by Henry IV., and their contents had increased the 
 fear and suspicion with which he regarded his allies. 
 This jealousy of Parma .perhaps counterbalanced
 
 242 Henry of Navarre. [1689- 
 
 the injury done to the royal cause by the half-hearted 
 service of Biron. But when Farnese fell back to the 
 Somme, the people of Rouen found that they had 
 been premature in thanking their patron Saint for 
 delivering them out of the hand of the Heretic, who, 
 after repairing and strengthening his works, was 
 again pressing the siege in person. Elizabeth, less 
 bitter since the safe return of Essex, and moved 
 perhaps by her favourite's report of Henry's roman- 
 tic admiration of the Virgin Queen, a topic on 
 which he never failed to dilate with Gascon emphasis 
 in her subject's presence, sent timely reinforcements, 
 while the Dutch fleet prevented any supplies reach- 
 ing the town by water. 
 
 Urgent messages came from Villars to Mayenne 
 and Parma: unless relieved by April 20th he must 
 capitulate. 
 
 In four days the Spanish general marched from 
 the Somme to the Seine. The King of France had 
 dismissed his cavalry ; his infantry was scattered in 
 the towns round Rouen, where they had been 
 quartered to recover from the sufferings of the 
 winter. Henry himself was at Dieppe when he 
 received the news that Parma was again marching 
 on Rouen (April 19th). He at once flung himself on 
 his horse and rode without drawing rein till he 
 reached the camp. It was midnight, but he found 
 his men already in full retreat. Nor could he blame 
 the resolution of his captains. It would have been 
 madness to attempt to hold their extended lines 
 against such an enemy as Parma, and when threat- 
 ened both in rear and front by far superior forces.
 
 1592,1 Can a Heretic be King of France? 243 
 
 The King determined that he would at any rate 
 fall back no farther than was absolutely necessary. 
 He took up a strong position three leagues from 
 Rouen, and there awaited the feudal militia he had 
 already summoned to his standard, and the troops 
 dispersed in the neighbouring towns. On the next 
 day 1,500 of the Norman gentry rode into camp, and 
 before the week was out (April 26th) he was once 
 more at the head of 18,000 infantry and 6,000 cavalry. 
 Meanwhile Parma and Mayenne had destroyed the 
 siege works, entered Rouen in triumph, reinforced 
 the garrison and relieved the necessities of the 
 inhabitants. Parma wished to attack the King at 
 once before he had collected his forces ; but Mayenne 
 persisted that Rouen was only half relieved so long 
 as the Royalists held Caudebec and commanded the 
 navigation of the river. Caudebec accordingly was 
 invested on the 24th of April and surrendered on 
 the 26th. Parma, while directing the attack, had been 
 wounded in the arm. Without changing counte- 
 nance he continued to point out how his batteries 
 should be placed. But his physical endurance was 
 not equal to his courage ; high fever set in, and he 
 was obliged to leave the command to Mayenne, who, 
 as soon as Caudebec had surrendered, took up his 
 quarters at Ivetot, a few miles to the north. 
 
 When the King found himself at the head of an 
 army superior in numbers to the enemy, he marched 
 round their rear and threatened their communica- 
 tions with Havre and Lillebonne. Constant engage- 
 ments were fought from April 28th to May 9th in 
 which the Royalists had the upper hand. The sup-
 
 244 Henry of Navarre, [1589- 
 
 plies of the confederates were intercepted, and they 
 were reduced to extreme want. 
 
 The King's hopes ran high — with a wide tidal river, 
 commanded by the Dutch fleet, in their rear, either 
 his enemies must starve or they must attempt to 
 force their way to Picardy or Rouen and give battle 
 to an army superior in numbers, and which was daily 
 growing. Surely, he said, they were delivered into 
 his hands. But he forgot the ill-will of his own 
 captains and the genius of his opponent. Parma, 
 though his weak constitution was still suffering from 
 the pain and fever of his wound, left his bed and dur- 
 ing the night of May loth led his army back towards 
 Caudebec. Henry IV. fell on the retreating Span- 
 iards, while Biron attacked Mayenne's French. The 
 Leaguers were thrown into such confusion that the 
 younger Biron engaged, if his father would give him 
 800 horse, to complete the rout. " What," shouted 
 the Marshal with an oath, " would you send us back 
 to plant cabbages at Biron ? " As he turned away 
 the young man muttered that, were he the King, his 
 father's head would not long remain on his shoulders. 
 But even so, enclosed as he was by superior forces 
 and by a river as broad as an arm of the sea, there 
 was, Henry supposed, no escape for Parma. 
 
 But the Italian strategist while tossing in the fever 
 of his wound had formed the plan which he now pro- 
 ceeded to carry into execution. For some days all 
 available boats, rafts and pontoons had been col- 
 lected by his orders at Rouen, and on the night of the 
 1 2th were sent down with the ebb tide to Caudebec. 
 Before morning dawned the greater part of the
 
 1692] Can a Heretic be King of France ? 245 
 
 Catholic army had already crossed to the southern 
 bank of the river. Their cavalry and the guns of a 
 hastily constructed fort kept the King's horse at a 
 distance from the place of embarkment till the re- 
 maining infantry and artillery had been ferried 
 across. Then the Catholic horse retreated along 
 the river bank to Rouen with such speed that the 
 Royalists could not intercept them. 
 
 But although Farnese had accomplished a feat 
 which raised to a still greater height his reputation 
 as the first general of that century, he was far from 
 having extricated himself from danger. The King 
 had, even yet, a chance of annihilating his opponents. 
 They could not shut themselves up in Rouen, which 
 was but scantily provisioned. Henry IV. saw that 
 it was possible for him to send his 8,000 cavalry 
 across the Seine at Pont de I'Arche to break down 
 the bridges across the Eure, and delay the advance 
 of the Catholics until he should have time to throw 
 himself with his infantry between his enemies and 
 Paris. But his generals protested that Parma had 
 too great a start, that pursuit was useless. The 
 Swiss and some of the Germans refused to move till 
 they had received their arrears of pay, conduct so 
 much in accordance with the usual practice of these 
 hirelings, that we need not suppose it to have been 
 suggested to them by the traitors in the royal camp. 
 
 Farnese, suffering from his wound and from his 
 constitutional ill-health, hurried on past Paris, leav- 
 ing 1,500 Walloons to reinforce the Spanish garri- 
 son, and reached the Netherlands with an army 
 reduced to half its numbers bv sickness or the sword.
 
 y 
 
 i 
 
 246 Henry of Navarre. ti592 
 
 The subsidies of the Dutch had been weU invested. 
 Mayenne, who had gained httlc honour in the cam- 
 paign, lay sick of an illness caused by debauchery at 
 Rouen. 
 
 But the King was in no position to profit by the 
 weakness of his enemies. His treasury was empty. 
 He could not pay his Swiss and German mercenaries ; 
 and without pay they would serve no longer. The 
 French nobles and gentlemen hurried to their homes, 
 as their custom was after a campaign. It therefore 
 only remained for him to dismiss with gracious 
 words his English and Dutch allies, and to abandon 
 the hope, so nearly realised, of crushing his opponents 
 and of entering his capital, the master of his kingdom 
 on his own terms. 
 
 In all parts of the country from Languedoc to 
 Lorraine, and from Savoy to Brittany, the civil war 
 dragged on during the summer, on the whole to the 
 advantage of the Royalists. But the most marked 
 result was the increased misery and devastation of 
 the country, and that everywhere the Leaguers be- 
 came more and more dependent on the money and 
 men of Spain, and therefore more and more the ob- 
 eequious clients of Philip II. 
 
 The death of Marshal Biron before Epernay, de- 
 livered the King from the exorbitant pretensions of 
 a man whom he could not afford to offend, and whose 
 insatiable vanity and selfish ambition made his great 
 parts, improved though they were by study and 
 knowledge of books, as well as by a wide experience 
 of camps and courts, of little use to the cause he 
 served, or to his country.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE KING GOES TO MASS AND ENTERS PARIS. 
 
 I 592-1 595. 
 
 I|HE great hopes founded by Henry on 
 the powerful army which had been 
 so painfully collected, were baffled. 
 Rouen and Paris had been snatched 
 from his grasp. Yet it is not true that 
 after a struggle of two years, after 
 heroic exertions and brilliant victories, the King was 
 in no better position than before Ivry. 
 
 Frenchmen had at least learnt to know what 
 manner of man it was who claimed their allegiance 
 as the legitimate heir of St. Lewis. His gay and 
 chivalrous valour, his jovial wit, his genial affability, 
 which, free from all condescension, rather raised those 
 to whom it was shown than lowered him who showed 
 it, his marvellous placability, his humanity, his ready 
 sympathy, nay his very vices recommended him to 
 his countrymen. Even the most credulous must 
 have smiled when they heard Henry of Bourbon 
 inveighed against from the pulpit, as a merciless and 
 fanatical tyrant ! 
 
 847 
 
 \
 
 248 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 In Paris the Moderates at length began to stir. 
 In the previous year (1590) Mayenne himself had 
 broken the power of the fanatical faction. The 
 Parliament, although composed of those mem- 
 bers who had refused to follow their more loyal 
 brethren when they seceded from the rebellious 
 capital, had never entirely forgotten the conservative 
 traditions of their profession ; and, by acquitting a 
 lawyer accused of royalist proclivities, aroused the 
 anger of the " Sixteen." The people, they exclaimed, 
 must seek by the dagger that justice which was 
 denied in the law courts. Lists of the proscribed 
 were prepared. Brisson, the first President of the 
 Parliament, a jurist of European reputation, and two 
 other magistrates of high position and character were 
 seized, dragged before a tumultuary and illegal 
 tribunal, and hurriedly executed. But the mob lis- 
 tened with apathy to the wild and inflammatory 
 harangues of preachers and demagogues. So unusual 
 was such moderation on the part of the excitable and 
 violent populace of Paris, that in L'Estoile's opinion 
 it could only be ascribed to an extraordinary and 
 singular mercy of God. 
 
 Not only the Politicians, but all Leaguers who had 
 any sense of humanity and justice, called upon the 
 Lieutenant-General to put an end to the tyranny of 
 a handful of murderers and fanatics. 
 
 Mayenne had no love for a faction which was 
 devoted to Spain and which would gladly have 
 assisted the young Duke of Guise to supplant him. 
 He hurried to Paris, obtained possession of the Bas- 
 tille, seized and executed four of the most active
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 249 
 
 members of the Sixteen. Others not less guilty 
 saved themselves by flight. An oath of obedience 
 to the Lieutenant-General of the Union and to the 
 Parliament, until the Estates should have elected an 
 orthodox King, was imposed on all. 
 
 The vigour shown on this occasion by Mayenne, 
 gave him for the moment an appearance of strength, 
 yet it was but the appearance. He was hated by 
 the fanatics, suspected by the Spaniards, neither 
 liked nor trusted by the Moderates ; he was supported 
 only by a few personal followers, and by some am- 
 bitious nobles who hoped, by adhering to him, to sell 
 themselves, when the time came, at a higher price to 
 the King. 
 
 All this had happened while the royal forces were 
 gathering round Rouen ; and since then the desire 
 for peace and weariness of clerical and Spanish 
 domination had been growing. In the autumn 
 of 1592 the Politicians and the more moderate 
 Leaguers made the scarcity of provisions and the 
 cessation of all trade a pretext for holding meetings 
 to consider how the war might be ended and the 
 sufferings of the people alleviated. A large majority 
 were in favour of "summoning" the King of 
 Navarre to abjure his heresy, and of endeavouring 
 in the meantime to conclude some form of truce 
 which would allow supplies to reach the capital. 
 
 Mayenne in alarm collected what troops he could, 
 and came to Paris, where the Spaniards assisted him 
 in preventing a step which would have amounted 
 to an engagement to recognise Henry as soon as he 
 should "receive instruction." Hitherto the accepted
 
 250 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 doctrine of the League had been, that as a relapsed 
 heretic he had forfeited all claim to the throne, 
 and that no simulated conversion, nor even the 
 papal absolution itself, could relieve him from this 
 disability. 
 
 Mayenne had promised to the Spaniards that the 
 Estates should meet and settle the succession in the 
 first months of the new year (1593). Philip II. had 
 determined, if possible, to secure the Crown for the 
 Infanta in her own right, or, if that might not be, as 
 the wife of a prince, to be chosen by him and elected 
 by the representatives of the nation. To obtain this 
 end he intended that the Estates should meet in the 
 presence of an irresistible Spanish army. 
 
 Parma was determined that if the thing must be 
 done it should not be done by halves. If he must 
 again abandon the war against the Dutch, to in- 
 tervene in France, he would perform his task so 
 thoroughly that it should need no repetition. 
 
 During the summer he had been recovering from 
 his wound and nursing his constitutional infirmities 
 at Spa. In the late autumn he ordered his Spanish 
 and Italian veterans, his lansquenets and Walloon 
 men-at-arms to assemble at Arras. He intended to 
 enter Paris, where a palace was being prepared for 
 him, at the head of an irresistible force, and to im- 
 pose his master's will on Mayenne and the Estates, 
 while he earned the gratitude of the citizens by 
 driving the royal garrisons out of the neighbouring 
 towns. This venture, at any rate, little as he ap- 
 proved of it, would not, like the invasion of England, 
 be at the mercy of fickle winds and waves.
 
 1595J 
 
 The King Goes to Mass. 251 
 
 But fate can baffle men in many ways, and on 
 December 3d, Alexander Farnese lay dead at Arras. 
 His army dispersed : he had only been able to pay 
 it by pledging his personal credit ; for the master of 
 Mexico and Peru was once more a bankrupt. 
 
 The Duke of Feria, with a few troops and a scanty 
 supply of money, was left to attempt a task which 
 the prestige and resources of Parma might hardly 
 have accomplished. 
 
 The death of the great Italian was welcome news 
 to Mayenne. Now he trusted to find Philip II. less 
 stiff. Now he could look forward with less appre- 
 hension to the meeting of the Estates. Now he felt 
 confident that, if the Spaniards did not close with 
 the terms he offered, he would be able to hold 
 matters in suspense till he compelled the King to 
 purchase peace at a price which would entail the 
 division of France into provinces ruled by hereditary 
 governors, as independent of the Crown as the 
 great feudatories of the loth and i ith centuries. 
 
 The States-General were summoned to meet in 
 January (1593). The partisans of Spain and the 
 League were active in endeavouring to secure the 
 return of their friends. " They say," the preachers 
 exclaimed, "the Bearnese will go to Mass; so will a 
 dog. Credulous blockheads ! Don't you see the 
 old wolf is only foxing, in the hope of eating the 
 sheep ? But go to ! our good Politicians love this 
 Ventre St. Gris. He is a spark to their taste, for they 
 are swine whose bellies he has promised to fill. 
 Good God ! it is a fearful thing to imagine that there 
 should be any peace possible with a bastard such
 
 252 Henry of Navarre. [1592 
 
 as he is, a heretic, a relapsed miscreant, a devil ! " 
 But diatribes such as this excited only disgust, except 
 among the dregs of the mob, who lived on the doles 
 of the convents and the largess of the Spaniards. 
 
 On January 26 (1593), the representatives met in 
 the hall of the Louvre, to decide, so Mayenne as- 
 sured them, the weightiest matter ever laid before 
 the Council of the nation. At this first session there 
 were only 60 members present and among them 
 no representatives of the nobility. When, after- 
 wards, the deputies of the more distant towns and 
 provinces had arrived, the greatest number who 
 ever sat was only 128, among whom there were but 
 24 nobles. The lay Estates of the South-western 
 and Central Provinces did not send a single repre- 
 sentative. According to Villeroy, those who came 
 were for the most part factious and needy men, 
 enemies of the public peace, elected for the express 
 purpose of supporting the designs of the Spaniards. 
 Such is the evidence of a Leaguer ; the Royalist De 
 Serre says that they were seditious and corrupt 
 fellows chosen from the very dregs of the people. 
 So contemptible in numbers and composition was 
 the Assembly which was summoned to subvert the 
 fundamental laws of the kingdom and to disinherit 
 the rightful heir of St. Lewis. Yet a majority of 
 the representatives of Paris belonged to the moderate 
 party in the League, nor does the conduct of the 
 Estates generally appear to merit such uncompro- 
 mising condemnation. They showed some signs of 
 patriotism, some desire of peace, some wish to 
 escape the domination of Spain.
 
 15951 The King Goes to Mass. 253 
 
 The Clerical and Spanish party suffered a defeat 
 on the first question decided by the Estates. May- 
 enne had invited the Catholic nobles and Princes of 
 the King's party to abandon an obstinate heretic, 
 and to join the representatives of the people in 
 bestowing the crown on a Catholic king. They had 
 replied by proposing that the Estates should send 
 envoys to a conference to be held at some place be- 
 tween Paris and the royal lines. These proposals, in 
 spite of the opposition of the Hispaniolised fanatics, 
 were accepted by the Estates. The chosen envoys 
 left Paris amid loud rejoicings and cries of " Peace, 
 peace— blessings on those who ask for and obtain it ; 
 all others to hell and damnation." 
 
 But before the arrangements for the conferences 
 at Suresne, between the royal commissioners and 
 those of the Estates, had been completed, Feria, the 
 plenipotentiary of Philip II., had entered Paris to 
 make known the will of his master and what he was 
 prepared to do for France and the cause. 
 
 Although the instructions given to Feria ad- 
 mitted the possibility of less favourable contingencies, 
 Philip II., misled by the servile protestations of the 
 extreme faction of the League, imagined that he 
 could obtain France on his own terms. The Duke 
 was first to demand from the Estates the recogni- 
 tion of the Infanta as the direct heir of Henry II. ; 
 if the Salic superstition could not be overcome, he 
 was next to suggest that they should elect as king 
 the Archduke Ernest, who should receive the hand 
 of his cousin with the throne. If, incredible as it 
 seemed, the French should cling not less to the
 
 254 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 spirit than to the letter of the Salic law, and should 
 refuse a foreign king, then let the Crown be be- 
 stowed on the Infanta and such French prince as 
 her father should select as her husband within two 
 months. Lastly, if the Estates should prove so un- 
 reasonable as not to be willing to leave the choice of 
 a king to their benefactor, let them elect the Duke 
 of Guise, and Philip would condescend to accept 
 him as son-in-law. 
 
 The last was the only really possible alternative. 
 If, from the first, Feria had said, " Elect Guise, and 
 my master will marry him to his daughter and main- 
 tain the claim of the new King with his men and 
 money," there is little doubt that the fervour of the 
 Fanatics and Democrats, of the clergy and of the 
 adherents of the House of Lorraine, would have 
 overborne the open opposition of the more moder- 
 ate, and the secret ill-will of Mayenne. The elec- 
 tion of a pretender whose hereditary popularity and 
 personal attractiveness would have excited some en- 
 thusiasm, and in whose assistance Philip would have 
 strained to the utmost his still formidable resources, 
 would certainly have revived the war, and post- 
 poned, even if it had not changed, the issue. But, 
 fortunately for France and Europe, Feria was not 
 the man to go beyond his instructions. Wrapped 
 in the dense self-conceit of his Castilian pride, and 
 mistaking an ill-timed dilatoriness for dignity, he 
 did not even begin to negotiate with the States- 
 General, until Henry IV. had communicated to 
 their envoys at Suresne his determination to "re- 
 ceive instruction " within the next two months.
 
 15$5] The King Goes to Mass. 255 
 
 without waiting till a council could be assembled, 
 and until the retreat in miserable plight of the 4,000 
 or 5,000 men with whom the Spaniards assisted 
 Mayenne to take Noyon, had proved how little was 
 to be expected from their arms. 
 
 Two months elapsed in futile discussions before 
 Feria had exhausted the previous alternatives and 
 produced Philip's last offer — to honour Guise, if he 
 were elected, with his daughter's hand. Abundant 
 signs had not been wanting that it was mere waste 
 of time to attempt to secure the Crown for the In- 
 fanta on other terms. When the Spaniards claimed 
 the throne for her in her own right, Rose, Bishop of 
 Senlis, one of the most rabid Leaguers, burst forth 
 into a violent tirade. He saw that the Politicians 
 were right when they said that Spanish zeal was all 
 hypocrisy, a mere cloak for worldly ambition. Nay, 
 he shouted, such pretensions would make him turn 
 Politician himself. To break the Salic law was to 
 ruin the kingdom. 
 
 As for the Parliament, they protested that it was 
 treasonable even to debate proposals so subversive 
 of the fundamental constitution of the realm, and 
 proclaimed null and void any treaty for the election 
 of a foreign prince or princess to the French throne. 
 
 Dreux meantime had fallen, and the last remain- 
 ing road by which supplies could reach Paris was in 
 the King's hands. It was certain that Henry IV, 
 meant to conform ; and, if he did so, by far the 
 larger part of the League and the vast bulk of the 
 Catholic population in Paris and in the other great 
 towns would be anxious to end the war by submis-
 
 256 He7iry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 sion to his authority. Behn, the Governor of Paris, 
 not unmindful perhaps of courtesies at Arques, said 
 that if Henry went to Mass he and the other nobles 
 would at once acknowledge him as their King. It 
 was idle for the papal legate to declare that only the 
 Pope could absolve a relapsed and excommunicated 
 heretic ; and when Mayennewith an air of compunc- 
 tion said, that Christ did not accept lip service and 
 must be worshipped in heart, the audience laughed. 
 
 The King had invited various prelates and theo- 
 logians to meet on July 15th, for his instruction. 
 None could doubt that the League was at the last 
 gasp, when in spite of spiritual and temporal threats, 
 four of the parish clergy of Paris made their way to 
 St. Denis, and among them one of the most furious 
 of the preachers who, with such frantic and weari- 
 some pertinacity, had beaten to arms on their drum 
 ecclesiastic. 
 
 ^^Henry, as it will be remembered, had promised at 
 his accession to " receive instruction " within six 
 months. Four years had now elapsed and he was 
 still listening with more or less profit to the sermons 
 of his Calvinist ministers. " The same," wrote Du 
 Plessis-Mornay, " in religion, the same, alas, that I 
 should say it, in his pleasures. I rejoice when I see 
 that he is not ashamed of Christ's gospel, I grieve 
 when I see the shame his life does to the profession 
 of that gospel." 
 
 The Catholics had looked upon the promise to be 
 instructed, as equivalent to an engagement to con- 
 form to the Roman Catholic Church. The Protes- 
 tants had hoped that the King would preside over a
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 257 
 
 council in which both religions would be repre- 
 sented, and in which the superiority of the argu- 
 ments of their divines would be so conspicuous 
 that Henry might fairly refuse to abandon a faith 
 the truth of which had been publicly and trium- 
 phantly vindicated. These hopes might perhaps 
 have been realised had the King been able to take 
 Rouen and to crush the League with his Protestant 
 army. He would then have been strong enough to 
 brave the discontent of his Catholic friends. But 
 now, although no enemy dared to meet him in the 
 field, he had more to fear from those in his own 
 camp than from his declared opponents. The ma- 
 jority of the latter openly protested that nothing 
 but his religion prevented them from acknowledging 
 him as King ; while many of the former were already 
 plotting against him. The troubles of the country 
 would, they said, be ended if one of the Catholic 
 Bourbons were chosen King. An orthodox prince 
 would be readily accepted by the League, he might 
 satisfy Spain by marrying the Infanta ; Mayenne 
 had his price, and such was the exhaustion and suf- 
 fering of the country that no terms by which quiet 
 and peace were restored would be unwelcome to 
 the people. Even those who were more loyal were 
 discontented. They could, they complained, endure 
 this continual warfare no longer. They were weary 
 of serving a king who never rested day or night, 
 who was accustomed to live with his Huguenots on 
 the wretched plunder of peasants' hovels, to warm 
 himself by a blazing barn, to sleep among cattle and 
 
 horses in filthy stables. 
 17
 
 258 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 D'O, weary of the care of an exchequer so empty 
 that even his skill and experience could find noth- 
 ing to steal, made himself the mouthpiece of the 
 discontent of the old courtiers of Henry III. " Un- 
 less the King could make up his mind to go bravely 
 to Mass he must expect the Catholics to mount 
 their horses and leave him." Wherever he turned, 
 writes a fervent Calvinist, the King saw cold looks 
 and the hearts of his followers alienated from him. 
 Every hour he was warned of attempts to corrupt 
 the loyalty of the governors of his towns and castles. 
 He was so uncertain whom he might trust that he 
 surrounded himself with English troops. 
 
 On all sides he was plied with the same argu- 
 ments : by his mistress, who imagined that the Pope 
 might be induced to grant him a divorce, and who 
 urged the tranquil delights they might enjoy if he 
 were released from his perpetual anxieties and 
 alarms; by the envoys of the Italian princes, who 
 complained that they were in a false position, as the 
 friends of an excommunicated heretic, but that all 
 Italy, weary of the tyranny of Spain, would be the 
 ally of a Catholic king of France ; by his own most 
 trusted advisers ; and especially by the Huguenot 
 Sully, who pointed out the many advantages the 
 King might hope to gain by conforming to the 
 church of the majority of his people : the submission 
 of the moderate Leaguers and the satisfaction of his 
 Catholic partisans, the rude awakening of his cousins 
 from their ambitious dreams, his own safety and 
 ease, the termination of the misery and sufferings of 
 the country, nay, even the gain to the Protestants
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 259 
 
 themselves, who might be better protected by a 
 CathoHc than by a Huguenot reigning on suffer- 
 ance. He even went so far as to maintain that, in 
 his opinion, the King need not be disturbed by any 
 fear lest his spiritual welfare should suffer. Since 
 surely "whoso believes the Apostles' Creed and dies 
 obedient to the Decalogue, in charity with his neigh- 
 bour, loving God with all his heart, and trusting in 
 His mercy and the merits of Christ's death, cannot 
 fail to be saved, whatever the sect may be to which 
 he belongs." A fine sentiment no doubt, and true, 
 but which does not meet the case of the perjured 
 profession for worldly motives of a creed which is 
 not believed. 
 
 The sophist Du Perron, Sully's friend, who had 
 recently obtained the bishopric of Evreux and one 
 or two latitudinarian ministers, who, it was sus- 
 pected, had been not inaccessible to bribes, assisted 
 in stifling the King's scruples. 
 
 Yet bolder and more honest advisers were not 
 wanting. Aubigne, if we may believe his own testi- 
 mony, assured his master, that matters were not so 
 bad as they seemed : the majority of Frenchmen 
 were so weary of the war that for the sake of peace 
 they would gladly acknowledge him whether Catholic 
 or Huguenot. If the Catholics chose a king, all 
 the disappointed pretenders would turn against 
 him. The insolent threats of the late King's cour- 
 tiers, the plots of his cousins, were idle bugbears. 
 But even if the worst were granted, God had raised 
 him to victory and power from far lower depths. 
 His chaplain D'Amours and the aged Beza, his
 
 26o Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 mother's friend and spiritual director, to whose out- 
 spoken admonitions he was in the habit of listening 
 with much good-natured respect and little profit, 
 begged him to beware of God's judgment if he be- 
 came an apostate to what he knew to be the truth. 
 Surely it was unworthy of a brave and magnanimous 
 Prince to be driven to Mass by the fear of man. 
 
 But Henry had made up his mind, and that not 
 lightly or readily. His conversion would end the 
 struggle in which the country was perishing. It 
 would give him the repose, for which even his rest- 
 less nature began to crave, in the midst of constant 
 campaigns and sieges, cabals, conspiracies and plots 
 against his life. It would really, so he persuaded 
 himself, be to the advantage of the Huguenots ; the 
 most they could now hope for was toleration and 
 equal rights with their Catholic countrymen. As a 
 Protestant King, all that he attempted to do for his 
 fellow believers would be watched with the greatest 
 suspicion, opposed and rendered nugatory by law- 
 courts and officials. As a Catholic he would have a 
 far freer hand. He afterwards repeatedly said that 
 like St. Paul he had not refused to be anathema for 
 his brethren. 
 
 Du Plessis-Mornay, who some weeks before had 
 believed the King, when he assured the Huguenots 
 at Saumur that he did not mean to abandon the 
 faith in which he had been bred, was now convinced 
 that his purpose could not be shaken. Yet he 
 wrote, " I will trust in our tears, and that though 
 he forget God, God may not forget him . . . 
 only I fear that our life, which we ought to have
 
 1695] I he King Goes to Mass. 261 
 
 changed rather than our religion, may lead us even 
 to worse." Although Mornay had a taste for theo- 
 logical discussions he refused to be present at the 
 King's instruction. He was certain that Henry 
 would not be moved by his arguments, and with 
 pardonable self-complacency believed that after lis- 
 tening to them he would more than ever be sinning 
 against light. After the pervert had been received 
 into the Roman Church, Mornay at length obeyed 
 his reiterated prayers and commands to come to him ; 
 for the King feared that in their first dismay and 
 anger at his apostasy the Protestants might take 
 some rash step. He had kept the Dukes of Bouillon 
 and Thouars, whose ambition he most suspected, 
 near him, and he wished to consult Mornay, to con- 
 vince him that he did not intend to neglect the in- 
 terests of the Huguenots, and to use his great 
 influence to pacify their discontent. 
 
 As soon as Mornay reached the Court, Henry 
 called him into his cabinet, and attempted to justify 
 his conversion in a private conversation which lasted 
 three hours. The arguments which he used were 
 probably those which had satisfied his own con- 
 science. The position of his affairs had, he main- 
 tained, giving the reasons urged by Sully and others, 
 left him no choice. In his heart he was unchanged, 
 yet he trusted that God would be merciful to him, 
 since he acted for the good of his people. Also he 
 believed, that the differences between the two re- 
 ligions were not fundamental and had been exag- 
 gerated by the animosity of the preachers, and he 
 trusted to be able to compose them. Lastly, he
 
 262 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 complained that the Protestants had not supported 
 him as they might have done; Mornay himself had 
 cared less for him than for the interests of the cause. 
 
 It was no doubt painful to Henry to abandon doc- 
 trines which he held to be true, and which he knew 
 well how to defend. The Catholic theologians said 
 they had rarely met a heretic better able to hold his 
 own against them in argument, and he drily com- 
 plained, that they had not satisfied him, as he had 
 hoped, on the disputed points. 
 
 Before rising on the morning when he was admit- 
 ted into the Catholic Church, he spoke long with his 
 Calvinist chaplain La Faye, his hand resting on his 
 neck, and kissed him two or three times. On the 
 day before, when he bade his ministers farewell, he 
 asked them with tears to pray fervently to God for 
 him, ever to love him as he would love them ; re- 
 member them and never permit any wrong to be 
 done to them or violence to their religion. Long 
 after, when he thought himself dangerously ill, he 
 was tortured by the fear that, in abjuring a faith in 
 which he believed, he had committed that sin against 
 the Holy Spirit, of which there is no remission. 
 
 All this searching of the heart seems strangely at 
 variance with the saying attributed to Henry — that 
 " Paris was well worth a Mass." Yet he may have 
 said that also. He passed rapidly from tears to 
 laughter; from meeting-house or Mass to the 
 chamber of his mistress. Since he had made up 
 his mind to abjure his heresies, he carried out his 
 resolution with the same light-hearted and cheerful 
 assurance which he showed in battle, though he
 
 1595] The Kuig Goes to Mass. 263 
 
 often shivered and turned pale while putting on his 
 armour. " I begin this morning," he wrote to 
 Gabrielle, " to confer with the Bishops in addition 
 to those whom I mentioned to you yesterday. The 
 hope I have of seeing you to-morrow prevents my 
 writing at greater length. On Sunday I shall take 
 the perilous leap. At this moment, while I am 
 writing, I have a hundred troublesome bores on my 
 hands, who will make me hate St. Denis as much 
 as you do Mantes. Good-bye, sweetheart, come in 
 good time to-morrow, for it seems to me a year since I 
 saw you. A million kisses for the fair hands of my 
 angel and the lips of my dear mistress," 
 
 On July 23d the King " received instruction " 
 from the Archbishop of Bourges and four Bishops. 
 They wished him to sign a detailed confession of 
 faith in all the points of Romanist doctrine disputed 
 by the Reformers. This he altogether refused. He 
 was willing to live and die in the Roman Catholic 
 Church, but he would not sign a confession contain- 
 ing puerilities (badincries) which he was certain they 
 did not themselves believe. 
 
 The Bishops gave way, and a formula was pre- 
 pared in which the King simply recognised the 
 Catholic, Apostolic and Roman Church as the true 
 Church of God, promised obedience to it and to the 
 Pope, and renounced all heresies contrary to its 
 doctrine. 
 
 On the next Sunday (July 25th), Henry, accom- 
 panied by his princes and nobles and by the great 
 officers of the Crown, and escorted by his French, 
 Swiss and Scotch Guards, passed through streets
 
 264 Henry of Navarre. L1592- 
 
 ^ thronged with a joyful crowd and strewn with 
 ~n( flowers to the old church of St. Denis, of which the 
 Kings of France were canons during their life, and 
 in which they rested when dead. It was noticed 
 that not a few of the thousands who rent the air 
 with their cries of " Vive le Roi " were Parisians 
 who had made their way through the fortifications 
 to witness an event which, it was hoped, would end 
 the war. The church doors were shut. The King 
 knocked ; they opened and disclosed the Archbishop 
 of Bourges surrounded by seven Bishops and a crowd 
 of clergy. " Who are you ? " asked the Archbishop. 
 " The King." " What do you seek ? " " To be received 
 into the fold of the Catholic, Apostolic and Roman 
 Church " ; as he spoke, Henry knelt down and con- 
 tinued, " I protest and swear in the presence of God 
 Almighty, to live and die in the Catholic faith, to 
 protect and defend it against all at the peril of my 
 life and blood, and to renounce all heresies," hand- 
 ing at the same time his signed confession of faith 
 to the Archbishop, who thereupon gave him absolu- 
 tion and led him into the choir, the clergy following. 
 While the Te Deum pealed forth and the enthusi- 
 astic multitude shed tears of joy, the King was 
 heard in confession behind the High Altar, after 
 which High Mass was celebrated, Henry devoutly 
 casting himself on his knees at the elevation of the 
 Host. 
 
 The reiterated cheers of the populace, blare of 
 trumpets, salvos of artillery, and, as the night closed, 
 bonfires in all the neighbouring villages, announced 
 to Paris that the " most Christian King," the " eldest
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 265 
 
 son of the Church," had been welcomed back, a re- 
 pentant prodigal, into her communion. **It is a 
 perilous thing to do evil that good may come," 
 wrote Elizabeth of England, lamenting the apostasy 
 of her ally. If this be true, — and who will care to 
 deny a truth which cuts away the root of that 
 casuistry which is fatal to public and private 
 morality? — then we cannot join those who praise 
 the conversion of Henry IV. as a sacrifice of private 
 feelings to public welfare. No doubt it facilitated 
 the work of pacification and shortened the material 
 sufferings of France, but at the price of setting up 
 before the nation an example of the sacrifice of 
 honour and principle, to expediency. The King 
 assured the friends, whose faith he formally abjured, 
 that he would never forget them ; that if need were 
 he was ready to die in their defence; and when in 
 his coronation oath he swore to drive all heresy 
 from his dominions he had fully determined to 
 secure toleration and equal rights to his heretical 
 subjects. This the Romanists knew, and therefore 
 his abjuration did not preserve him from their plots, 
 nor ultimately from the assassin's knife. If it was 
 necessary that the King of France should be a 
 Romanist ; if the connexion between Church and 
 State was so intimate that all heresy was politically 
 dangerous, then Richelieu who deprived the Hugue- 
 nots of their political privileges, and Lewis XIV. who 
 refused toleration to their doctrines, were better 
 statesmen than Henry IV. The dragonnades of his 
 grandson were the logical consequences of the con- 
 version of the first Bourbon King.
 
 266 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 The establishment on the French throne of 
 Henry IV. even as a Roman Catholic was no 
 doubt of the greatest service to the Protestant 
 cause in other parts of Europe. Personal enmity 
 to Spain, ambition and patriotism combined to 
 cause Henry IV. to pursue as a Romanist the same 
 policy he would have followed as a Protestant. But 
 when Spain was no longer formidable, Lewis XIV., 
 the ruler and the idol of Catholic France, was but 
 acting in accordance with his position, when he in 
 turn became the champion of orthodoxy and of 
 despotism, the scourge of liberty and of Protes- 
 tantism. 
 
 The news of the King's conversion was received 
 by all among the Leaguers who desired the preser- 
 vation of the kingdom and of the Faith with as much 
 joy, says Villeroy, as if they had been restored from 
 death to life. 
 
 The fury of the Zealots, on the other hand, knew 
 no bounds and became even more extravagant in 
 expression. Not the Pope, not even God, said the 
 preachers, could absolve a relapsed heretic. Where 
 was the Balthasar Gerard, the Jacques Clement, who 
 would rid the world of this monster? But with the 
 exception of a few fanatics, the Leaguers listened 
 with growing distaste and weariness to sermons 
 sometimes three hours long, filled with abuse and 
 scurrility. The more moderate among the clergy 
 began to preach reconciliation and the Divine right 
 of Kings. 
 
 The controversy was waged even more vigorously 
 in the pamphlets and broadsheets which poured
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 267 
 
 from the press, than in the pulpit, and here also the 
 Royalists had the better of their opponents in wit as 
 well as in moderation and good taste. 
 
 But the Spanish party had other weapons besides 
 those of argument and of honourable warfare. In 
 spite of many previous failures it was hoped that 
 the assassin's dagger might eventually deliver the 
 Church from her enemy. The Rector of the Jesuits 
 and one of the parish priests of Paris encouraged a 
 young man, not unwilling to lay down for the faith- 
 ful, a life, which disappointed love had rendered 
 worthless to himself, to join the royal camp, and 
 to watch for an opportunity of assassinating the 
 King. Fortunately an Italian Dominican, to whom 
 the plot had become known, sent a warning. Bar- 
 riere, so the youth was called, was arrested and 
 broken on the wheel. 
 
 A week after the King's conversion, a truce had 
 been concluded for three months with the Leaguers. 
 Henry had consented to treat with Mayenne as with 
 an equal, for he believed that when the country had 
 once tasted peace it would not permit itself to be 
 dragged back again into war ; especially if, as he 
 hoped, he in the meantime obtained absolution from 
 the Pope. Clement VIII. had hitherto refused to re- 
 ceive his envoys, but he was now no longer a heretic. 
 The Pope before his election had not been a par- 
 tisan of Spain, and the Duke of Tuscany and other 
 Italian princes promised to exert their influence at 
 the Vatican to the utmost on behalf of the King of 
 France. Mayenne also told Villeroy to assure 
 Henry that he desired peace, that he was disgusted 
 
 )(
 
 ^ 
 
 268 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 with the Spaniards and that he also would do his 
 best to persuade the Pope to grant the absolution. 
 
 The Lieutenant-General of the Union had assented 
 to the armistice because he had no choice. The 
 mob threatened to throw the priests, whom they 
 regarded as the main obstacles to peace, into the 
 river ; they turned their backs on the legate when 
 he gave them his benediction and insulted Feria, 
 The Spaniards indeed made large offers, to Mayenne, 
 of little less than the partition of the kingdom. 
 But to carry on the war, money and men were 
 needed and not promises, which, moreover, the Duke 
 did not believe to be sincere, for he knew that the 
 Sorbonne had advised that everything should be 
 promised to him and nothing given. Meantime, 
 with characteristic double dealing he sent a secret 
 envoy to Rome to urge the Pope on no account to 
 absolve the King of Navarre, and his son-in-law to 
 Madrid to persuade Philip II. to promise the hand 
 of the Infanta to his eldest son. 
 
 The truce was prolonged till the end of the year. 
 When it expired, all in arms against the King were 
 to expect the punishment of rebels unless they 
 submitted within a month. 
 
 The hope that the Pope would readily grant the 
 absolution had not been realised. Clement VIII. 
 scarcely deigned to receive the letter which Henry 
 IV. wrote to announce his conversion. He would 
 not listen to the Duke of Nevers who was sent as 
 ambassador. " Don't tell me," he exclaimed, "that 
 your King is Catholic. I could never believe him 
 to be converted unless an angel from heaven came
 
 1595] The Kifig Goes to Mass. 269 
 
 to whisper it in my ear. As for the Cathohcs who 
 have adhered to him, I do not say that they are 
 rebels and renegades to their religion, but they are 
 only the bastard children of the maidservant, while 
 they of the League are the true lawful children — 
 buttresses and pillars of the Catholic Church." The 
 Duke left Rome without having effected anything, 
 or obtained any more comfortable assurance than a 
 whisper from Cardinal Toleto, the chief adviser of \ 
 the Pope, a moderate man, though a Spaniard and 
 a Jesuit, that the Holy Father only wished to prove 
 the King of Navarre's sincerity. 
 
 A pretext therefore still remained for those who, 
 like Mayenne, wished to hold out on a scruple of 
 conscience till they could obtain better terms. 
 
 In other respects the results of the truce were 
 very much what the Royalists expected. The 
 Estates like a burnt-out candle had dwindled and 
 gone out in such obscurity that it is impossible to 
 determine the date of their final meeting. The last 
 ill-smelling flicker which attracted attention was 
 the recognition by them of the decrees of the Coun- 
 cil of Trent — a measure forced on their weariness 
 and weakness by Mayenne, in order that reconcilia- 
 tion might be made more difificult, since it was quite 
 incompatible with the privileges of the Galilean 
 Church, and with the principles of national indepen- 
 dence stoutly upheld by the law-courts. 
 
 The impossibility of any tolerable arrangement 
 with Spain, the duplicity and selfishness of May- 
 enne were more than ever patent ; and many sepa- 
 rate negotiations had been opened with the towns
 
 270 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 and nobles of the League, the effect of which was 
 seen as soon as they had to choose between making 
 their peace with the King and the renewal of 
 hostiHties. 
 
 Vitry, Governor of Meaux, one of the most able 
 and active of the Catholic captains, had been the 
 first of the officers of Henry III. to leave his suc- 
 cessor, because he would not serve a heretic. That 
 he had no personal animosity to the King he had 
 shown by consenting, while still in arms against 
 him, to hunt the royal hounds during an illness of 
 the huntsman. He now told the citizens of Meaux 
 that as his Majesty was no longer a heretic he meant 
 to return to his service, and the townspeople deter- 
 mined to follow the example of their Governor. 
 
 Le Chastre, Governor of the Orleanais and Berry, 
 the uncle of Vitry, acted in like manner and the 
 municipalities of Orleans and Bourges united with 
 him in making their peace with the King. The 
 citizens of Lyons had ended a long feud with their 
 Governor, the Duke of Nemours, by seizing and 
 imprisoning him in their citadel, and now in spite 
 of their Archbishop Espinac admitted a Royalist 
 garrison. The submission of this great and turbu- 
 lent town, the commercial centre of France, was a 
 great gain to the Royalists, and was likely to deter- 
 mine the hesitation of Villars, the Governor of 
 Rouen, with whom Sully was already negotiating. 
 The terms granted to the towns which submitted 
 were generally the same. A complete amnesty for 
 the past ; the confirmation of all the municipal 
 privileges and franchises they already possessed ; an
 
 1595J The Khig Goes to Mass. 271 
 
 engagement to build no citadel or to destroy those 
 which already existed ; exemption from extraordi- 
 nary taxation, together with large pensions and 
 gifts of money to their Governors. No doubt it 
 was better and even cheaper for the nation that the 
 gates of the hostile cities should be opened by 
 gold, that the King should buy back his kingdom, 
 than that the country should be devastated, agricul- 
 ture, manufactures and trade, the sources of all 
 wealth, ruined by civil war. Yet, by purchasing 
 the submission of his rebels Henry IV. taught the 
 French nobility to believe that turbulence was prof- 
 itable, a lesson not forgotten during the regencies 
 of Mary de' Medici and Anne of Austria. Nor did 
 it appear just that loyal subjects should bear a 
 heavier load of taxation in order that the rebel towns 
 and provinces might escape from the obligation of 
 contributing to the necessities of the State. The 
 King's most faithful servants had some reason to 
 complain when they saw not only their services un- 
 rewarded, but the sums lent to their master unpaid, 
 while wealth beyond the dreams of avarice was lav- 
 ished on his enemies. " It is, I suppose, because I 
 am necessary, that the King keeps me necessitous," 
 wrote Du Plessis-Mornay, who had never grudged 
 his money to the Cause ; and the large sums which 
 La Noue had raised by mortgaging his estates were 
 never repaid to his heirs. It is true that the King 
 himself felt the pinch of want. He had not in the 
 winter of 1594 wherewithal to buy fodder for his 
 horses. " My plight," he complained to the treas- 
 urer D'O, " is indeed wretched ; I shall soon have 
 
 \
 
 272 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 to go on foot and naked." Turning to one of his 
 attendants he asked how many shirts he had — 
 "A dozen, Sire, and some of them torn." — "And 
 how many handkerchiefs ? Eight, is n't it ? "^ — "No, 
 Sire, only five." D'O, in excuse, said that to sup- 
 ply these wants he had ordered 6,000 crowns' worth 
 of linen from Flanders. " Well," answered Henry, 
 " it seems I am like those scholars who, when they 
 are dying of cold, talk of the furred robes they have 
 at home." Yet this destitution did not prevent him 
 from giving to his mistress a service of plate and a 
 diamond heart, " very appropriate for her if angels 
 wear jewellery." It is seldom that a dissolute and 
 ragged pauper whose children are starving is with- 
 out a shilling for drink and tobacco. 
 
 Few could any longer affect to doubt that there 
 was again a ruler in France, and two great events 
 which took place during the first months of 1594 
 made it plain to all that there remained no colour- 
 able pretext for refusing to him the title of King. 
 These events were his coronation and the submis- 
 sion of Paris. 
 
 The monarchy of the Franks had been elective 
 like that of the other Teutonic nations. The Mero- 
 vingian kings attempted to assert an unconditional 
 hereditary right ; but the Church which had assisted 
 them to establish their authority, while she hedged 
 round their Crown with a mystic and almost divine 
 dignity, claimed the right of bestowing that dignity 
 by a ceremony analogous to that which raised the 
 priest above his fellow-men. Under the Carolin- 
 gians the elective principle was reaffirmed, and the
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 273 
 
 nobles and prelates, who passing over the lineage of 
 Charles the Great chose Hugh Capet as their king 
 (987), doubtless intended to establish an elective 
 monarchy no longer confined to the members of one 
 family. For the next two hundred years the reign- 
 ing monarch never omitted to procure during his 
 lifetime the election and coronation of his eldest 
 son. It was mainly owing to the fortunate chance, 
 that till the death of Lewis X. (13 1.6) a direct male 
 heir never failed the house of Capet, that the de- 
 scent of the Crown to the nearest male heir of the 
 deceased King came to be regarded as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 The presence of the peers of France at the King's 
 coronation became an antiquarian pageant, which 
 reminded only the most thoughtful spectators that 
 the royal power had once been based on a compact 
 between an elected ruler and his people. 
 
 On the other hand the religious and mystic im- 
 portance attached to the coronation ceremony had, 
 if anything, increased. To lead her Prince to Rheims, 
 that he might receive the sacred unction, was the 
 final aim and crown of Joan of Arc's ambition ; till 
 after that ceremony he was to her only the Dauphin, 
 nor does Froissart give him till then the style of 
 King. 
 
 One of the arguments used to determine the con- 
 version of Henry IV. had been the question, how, 
 while he remained a heretic, could he be crowned ? 
 
 This difficulty no longer existed. Rheims with 
 
 its cathedral and mystic oil was still in the power of 
 
 the League. But there were precedents for the per- 
 18
 
 2 74 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 formance of the rite elsewhere. The coronation of 
 Lewis VI. had taken place at Orleans and Henry 
 determined to be crowned at Chartres, in the cathe- 
 dral of which his ancestors had been patrons and 
 benefactors. For once the tendency of relics to 
 exist in duplicate was found useful. If the oil, 
 brought to St. Remigius by an angel for the unction 
 of Clovis, was not forthcoming, another scarcely less 
 revered fluid of miraculous virtue was contained in 
 a precious phial given by another angel to St. Mar- 
 tin, the apostle of Gaul. This was preserved in the 
 convent of Marmoustier, near Tours, where it had 
 by special mercy escaped a wholesale destruction of 
 relics in 1562. 
 
 Everything was done to make the ceremony im- 
 pressive. Henry of Bourbon claimed the throne as 
 the representative of hereditary right, he had been 
 opposed on the ground that sovereignty was con- 
 ferred by the people, and that to exercise it was an 
 ofifice so sacred, so nearly a priesthood that it could 
 not be held by a heretic excommunicated and un- 
 absolved. Yet all the ancient forms were now care- 
 fully observed, forms from which, if all the annals 
 of the French monarchy had perished, an historical 
 student could have concluded with more certainty 
 that it was originally elective and endowed with 
 mystic sanctity by close connection with the Church, 
 than the physiologist is able, from the presence of 
 organs now useless and atrophied, to conjecture 
 what were the conditions under which an animal 
 has previously existed. 
 
 The greatest nobles present with the King, dressed
 
 1595] The King Goes to Mass. 275 
 
 in magnificent and archaic robes, figured as the six 
 great vassals, the lay peers of the French Crown, the 
 Dukes of Normandy, Burgundy and Aquitaine, the 
 Counts of Flanders, Toulouse and Champagne. 
 Five Bishops represented the spiritual peers, the 
 Bishops of Laon, Langres, Beauvais, Chalons and 
 Noyon, who were either absent or dead. These 
 peers raised Henry from his seat under the High 
 Altar and presented him to the crowd, while the 
 Bishop of Nantes, acting for the Duke-Bishop of 
 Laon, asked whether they accepted him as their 
 king? Then having been acknowledged by all the 
 orders as their sovereign lord, he was clad in the royal 
 robes, emblematic, as it was supposed, of the sanc- 
 tity of Holy Orders, the tunic of the subdiaconate, 
 the dalmatic of the diaconate, while the royal mantle 
 represented the chasuble of the priesthood, girt with 
 the sword, the rod of justice placed in his hands, and 
 anointed in seven places with the miraculous chrism. 
 After which he swore, his hand upon the Gospels 
 which he reverently kissed, to protect the peace of 
 the Church and of all Christian people ; to put down 
 iniquity and violence ; to deserve God's mercy by 
 enforcing justice, and lastly, to drive from his do- 
 minions (exterminate) all heretics. Then, and not 
 till then, did the oflficiating Bishop take the royal 
 Crown from the High Altar, and the peers each 
 touching it with their hands, place it on his head. 
 Next they led him to a throne raised aloft on a stage, 
 where they did homage to him in the sight of the 
 crowd who thronged the vast nave of the stately 
 Cathedral, — a crowd of nobles, magistrates and
 
 276 Henry of Navai're. [1592- 
 
 soldiers scarcely less bright than those marvellous 
 windows above them which the art of the middle 
 ages has filled with translucent gems. The loud and 
 reiterated shouts of joy spreading from the interior 
 of the church to the populace collected outside 
 drowned the blast of the trumpets and the procla- 
 mation of the heralds scattering largess. 
 
 The crowned and anointed King returned to the 
 neighbourhood of Paris to conduct in person the 
 negotiations which were to place him in possession of 
 his Capital, while Sully continued to bargain with 
 Villars, the Governor of Rouen ; and to endeavour to 
 beat down terms, the extravagance of which was a 
 vexation to his economic soul : perhaps also he com- 
 pared the price demanded by Villars for ceasing to 
 be a rebel, 1,200,000 livres, equivalent to nearly ;!^500,- 
 000, a pension of 60,000, equivalent to nearly ^^24,- 
 000 and the revenues of six abbeys with the hardly 
 earned rewards of many years of loyal service. 
 
 The higgling and hesitation of his agent excited 
 the King's impatience. " It is folly," he wrote, 
 (March, 1594) " to raise so many difficulties in a mat- 
 ter the conclusion of which is so important for the 
 establishment of my authority and for the relief of 
 my people. Do you not remember how often you 
 have quoted the advice of a certain Duke of Milan 
 (Francis Sforza) to Lewis XI. ? To separate by their 
 private interests those who had leagued themselves 
 against him under the pretext of the public weal. 
 This is what I intend to attempt. I prefer, even 
 though it should cost twice as much, to treat with 
 each severally, rather than to attain the same end by
 
 15951 The King Enters Paris. 277 
 
 means of a general treaty with a single leader, who 
 would thus be able to keep together a faction in my 
 realm." 
 
 Thus urged, Rosny accepted Villars' terms, and 
 Henry IV. was undisputed master of Normandy. On 
 March 17th Sully received a letter from the King 
 bidding him join him before the 21st in order that 
 he might help to cry " Vive le Roi " in Paris. 
 
 Ever since the conversion of Henry, the Politi- 
 cians and the more moderate and patriotic members 
 of the League would gladly have thrown open the 
 gates of Paris to a Catholic and national king. 
 Mayenne on the other hand had drawn closer to the 
 Spaniards, both because he felt their support to be 
 more necessary to him and because they encouraged 
 him to hope that Philip might marry the Infanta to 
 his son. 
 
 The Lieutenant-General of the Union felt the 
 ground trembling under his feet. He strengthened 
 the garrison, re-established the Council of Sixteen, 
 the committee of public safety of the League, per- 
 fected the organisation of the " minotiers," — a militia 
 recruited by Spanish money from the lowest classes 
 to overawe the more respectable citizens, and ban- 
 ished some of the most prominent of the Moderate 
 party. Since Belin, the Governor of Paris, had not 
 scrupled to say that he was French and not Spanish 
 and that the time was come to end the Civil War, he 
 was dismissed and his place given to Brissac, the hero 
 of the Barricades, a favourite of the democratic fac- 
 tion. The study of antiquity had converted Brissac 
 to Republicanism in theory, but his actions were
 
 278 Henry of Navarre, [1592- 
 
 solely determined by the intelligent pursuit of his 
 own interests. He was not, therefore, likely to be 
 scrupulous in fidelity to a losing cause ; yet Mayenne, 
 who never allowed his own conduct to be hampered 
 by the most solemn engagements, trusted Brissac's 
 word, showing that strange infatuation which not 
 unfrequently exposes a swindler to be cheated more 
 easily than an honest man. Feria was convinced 
 that a man could not be dangerous, who, instead of 
 listening to what passed in Council, amused himself 
 by catching the flies on the wall ; and the legate felt 
 that confidence was not misplaced in a Catholic so 
 scrupulous, that he cast himself on his knees to crave 
 absolution after an interview with his brother-in- 
 law, the Royalist St. Luc, — an interview which, 
 Brissac asserted, was rendered necessary by a law- 
 suit, in which his whole fortune was at stake, but 
 which really was to settle the price of his desertion. 
 
 During the next six weeks (January and Febru- 
 ary, 1594), each day brought the news of further 
 disaster to the cause of the League ; of fortresses 
 and towns returning to their allegiance. At length 
 the Spaniards sent some troops to the frontier and 
 on March 6th, Mayenne left Paris with the avowed in- 
 tention of attempting with their help to open a way 
 by which supplies might reach the Capital. But since 
 he took his wife and children with him, his departure 
 appeared little less than a retreat from an untenable 
 position, and gave a great impulse to the negotia- 
 tions carried on by the King's friends within and 
 without the walls. 
 
 Brissac was not more faithful to the League than
 
 1596] The King Enters Paris. 279 
 
 his predecessor, while his dissimulation and the trust 
 reposed in him made him far more dangerous. The 
 price he exacted from the King for his services was 
 a high one, 20,000 crowns down, and a pension of 
 20,000, the confirmation of the dignity of Marshal 
 bestowed on him by Mayenne, and the governorship 
 of Corbeil and Mantes. The Parisian magistrates, 
 who joined in the plot for opening the gates of the 
 city to the King, deserve the praise of disinterested- 
 ness in comparison with the Catholic nobles. But 
 few stipulated for private favours. The conditions 
 upon which they insisted were such as they sup- 
 posed to be for the public good. The maintenance 
 of the privileges of Paris ; the prohibition of Prot- 
 estant worship within ten leagues of the walls ; a 
 general amnesty and permission to the foreigners in 
 the town to depart uninjured. Since they had been 
 invited and received as friends it would have been a 
 treacherous breach of hospitality to have delivered 
 the Spaniards into the hands of their enemies. 
 
 After the term.s had been agreed upon, daybreak 
 on the morning of March 22d was fixed upon as the 
 time when the King and his troops should be ad- 
 mitted. A large force could not assemble near the 
 gates without attracting the attention of the Span- 
 iards and of the Sixteen whose suspicions were al- 
 ready aroused. Henry IV. was obliged to venture 
 into the narrow and tortuous streets of the populous 
 city with some 4,000 or 5,000 men. The Spaniards 
 with their armed and disciplined adherents were at 
 least three times as numerous. The safety and 
 success of the King depended therefore, in the first
 
 28o Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 place, on the good faith and skilful arrangements of 
 his friends within the walls, and in the next, on the 
 sympathy, if not on the active co-operation, of the 
 citizens. 
 
 The plan of the Royalists was well conceived and 
 punctually executed. Never, perhaps, has a large 
 and unruly city, held by a powerful garrison, changed 
 hands with so little disorder or bloodshed. 
 
 Brissac on various pretexts got rid of two French 
 regiments whom he knew to be devoted to May- 
 enne, and persuaded the most energetic of the 
 Spanish commanders to leave the town, in the hopes 
 of intercepting an imaginary convoy. At the same 
 time he enrolled as new recruits a number of Roy- 
 alist soldiers who slipped one by one into the city. 
 
 Feria and Ibarra were warned that the King would 
 enter Paris on the night of the 2ist ; but their in- 
 formant assured them that midnight was the ap- 
 pointed hour and appears only to have suggested 
 a possible complicity on the part of the Governor. 
 Feria accordingly, shortly before midnight, warned 
 Brissac to be on his guard, and sent his Spanish cap- 
 tains to visit the gates in his company. They were 
 ordered to stab him at the first sign of hesitation or 
 treachery. Brissac hurried them from post to post 
 till they were tired out, and brought them back to 
 Feria, well satisfied of his zeal and fidelity. Mean- 
 while all the trainbands, whom the Royalists could 
 trust, had been quietly got underarms. They were 
 told that peace had been concluded between May- 
 enne and the King, that it would be proclaimed on 
 the morrow, but that it was necessary to antici-
 
 1595] The King Enters Paris. 281 
 
 pate and prevent the resistance of the Spaniards and 
 their adherents. 
 
 Brissac and the Provost of Paris, L'HuilHer, ac- 
 companied by a strong body of citizens, seized the 
 Porte Neuve — the gate on the bank of the river by 
 the Louvre. The gates of St. Denis and St. Honore 
 were held by other magistrates privy to the plot, 
 and the commandant of the Arsenal allowed the 
 chain to be lowered which barred the river, so as to 
 admit by water the garrisons of Corbeil and Melun. 
 The Royalist troops entered the town from four 
 sides, and then uniting with their friends, who had 
 collected to hold and open the gates, occupied the 
 great arteries which divided the labyrinth of narrow 
 and crooked lanes, — the streets of St. Denis, St. 
 Honore and St. Martin. Then converging they 
 marched upon the centre of the city where their 
 friends were astir, and where they met with no resist- 
 ance. When the Spaniards took the alarm they 
 found themselves surrounded in their several quarters 
 and deprived of any possibility of concerted action. 
 
 With the last of four bodies of troops which en- 
 tered the Capital by the Porte Neuve came Henry 
 himself. The Provost and Governor were waiting 
 to welcome him at that same gate through which 
 six years before the last Valois had fled, pursued by 
 the execrations of his people. 
 
 The King received the keys of the town from 
 the Provost, and embraced Brissac, saluting him by 
 the title of Marshal, while he threw his own white 
 scarf over his neck. The division which had 
 entered immediately before the King, alone met
 
 282 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 with any resistance. As it moved along the quays 
 a small detachment of lansquenets, stationed on the 
 Quai de I'Ecole, refused to surrender, but were 
 promptly put to the sword or thrown into the river. 
 Henry heard the noise of the skirmish, and, as he 
 had entered the gate unarmed, called for his armour. 
 For a moment, fearless soldier as he was, he hesi- 
 tated to enter the gloomy streets which had so often 
 been the scene of riot and bloodshed fatal to his 
 friends and to the authority of his predecessors. But 
 assured that his soldiers held the gates, that his ad- 
 herents were in possession of the city, the Louvre 
 and the twoChatelets, he proceeded along the street 
 of St. Honore towards the bridge of Notre Dame. 
 The people crowded the street in silent curiosity and 
 amazement at the unexpected sight, while the King 
 advanced surrounded by his escort, trailing their 
 pikes in sign of peace. Taking their clue from the 
 shouts of the better class of citizens, first one and 
 then another of the mob raised the ciy of " Vive le 
 Roi." Before the bridge was reached, the infection 
 of enthusiasm had spread and the air rang with loyal 
 acclamations. " I see," said Henry, " how these 
 poor people have been tyrannised." Then, turning 
 to a former Leaguer who was by his side, he asked, 
 " What think you of seeing me here ? " " That what 
 is Caesar's, Sire, has been given to Caesar." — " Given," 
 said the King, looking at Brissac, who rode near him, 
 " Given ! no, sold and for a good price." 
 
 When he approached Notre Dame and saw the 
 clergy waiting under the great portal to receive him, 
 he dismounted. The throng was so great that he
 
 tr^C.i: 
 
 #ani' ■ 
 
 w^^^ ^
 
 15951 The King Enters Paris. 28 
 
 o 
 
 was lifted off his feet. The guards would have 
 made the people stand back, but Henry prevented 
 them ; the citizens, he said, had long missed the 
 sight of a King, and should now look their fill. It 
 was no small risk which he thus ran in exposing 
 himself to the blow of any frenzied fanatic. When 
 the Duchess of Montpensier was told that he 
 had entered Paris, she exclaimed that surely 
 some one would be found to plunge a dagger into 
 his heart. 
 
 Meantime the bells pealed forth a joyous wel- 
 come, while the Te Deum re-echoed through the 
 nave and aisles of the crowded cathedral. 
 
 Some futile attempt made by the Sixteen to rally 
 their forces in the quarter of the university where 
 they were strongest was repressed without blood- 
 shed ; and the King's heralds, accompanied by a 
 shouting crowd of boys and children, rode through 
 the town, proclaiming peace and amnesty. 
 
 The Duke of Feria and Don Diego Ibarra were 
 glad to accept the terms offered by the King, and 
 to evacuate the city with bag and baggage and 
 the honors of war. At three o'clock, pelted by a 
 pitiless March storm, 3,000 Spaniards, Italians and 
 Walloons filed through the gate of St. Denis. The 
 King, who had dined, was watching them from a 
 window above the gate. Feria and Ibarra under 
 circumstances which might have made other men 
 feel and look sufficiently crestfallen, were sustained 
 by their Castilian pride, and barely saluted him 
 whom they still affected to call the Prince of Beam. 
 Henry returned a lower bow and shouted, " Com-
 
 284 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 mend me to your master, gentlemen, but don't 
 come back." The other officers and the common 
 soldiers, less proud, or more grateful for being 
 allowed to depart with life and property, passed 
 under the King's window bareheaded and with low 
 obeisance. 
 
 Fifty or sixty of the most rabid Leaguers accom- 
 panied the Spaniards. The legate, who refused to 
 see the King, was allowed to take with him the 
 Rector of the Jesuits, and a priest who had insti- 
 gated the would-be regicide, Barriere. 
 
 Henry IV. declared that he was determined to 
 forget the past ; that it would be as unreasonable 
 to hold the fanatics responsible for what they had 
 done, as to blame a man who was beside himself for 
 striking, or a madman for walking about naked, — 
 a generous and politic sentiment, if not carried 
 too far. But, as has already been remarked, a well 
 founded confidence in his boundless placability, 
 doubtless encouraged the intrigues and conspiracies 
 which disturbed Henry IV's reign and confirmed 
 the French princes and nobles in the belief that 
 rebellion was a game in which there was much to 
 win and little to lose. 
 
 The evening of his first day in Paris the King not 
 only visited the mother of Mayenne, the old Duchess 
 of Nemours, and the widowed Duchess of Guise, to 
 assure them of his favour and protection, but even 
 joined the card party of the Duchess of Mont- 
 pensier, the termagant of the League, the patroness 
 of Jacques Clement, and who a few hours before 
 had been calling for some one to assassinate him.
 
 < g 2 
 
 zoo 
 
 o s
 
 1595] The King Enters Paris. 285 
 
 Surely he had the right to forgive his own ene- 
 mies, but, muttered the old servants of Henry III., 
 was it thus he kept the oath he had sworn to avenge 
 the murder of his predecessor ? 
 
 The possession of Paris, followed in a few days 
 by the news of the submission of Rouen, firmly 
 established the King's superiority over his enemies. 
 There was now little danger that the hope of ob- 
 taining the support of a dying faction would tempt 
 any prince to play the part of a pretender. The 
 Parliament, without awaiting the return of the 
 Royalist magistrates from Tours, eagerly annulled 
 all that had been done during the last six years " to 
 the prejudice of the authority of the Crown or of 
 the laws of the country," and summoned the Duke 
 of Mayenne and all others at once to recognise 
 Henry IV. as their lawful King, unless they chose 
 to incur the penalty of treason. 
 
 Even the University of Paris, so long the 
 stronghold of opinions which subordinated the 
 hereditary right of the Prince to the popular will, 
 and to the approval of the Church, yielded to the 
 pressure of circumstances and to the persuasion of 
 anew Rector, the King's physician. The Sorbonne 
 solemnly declared that, " notwithstanding the doubts 
 of certain men imbued with erroneous doctrine," 
 Henry of Bourbon, the legitimate heir to the 
 throne, must be obeyed by all ; even though, owing 
 to the intrigues of the enemies of the country, he 
 had not as yet been recognised as the Eldest Son of 
 the Church by the Holy Father. "■ All power," as 
 St. Paul teaches, " is of God. The Powers that be
 
 286 Henry of Navarre. 11592- 
 
 are ordained of God, and they that resist shall 
 receive to themselves damnation." 
 
 But much remained to be done. The leaders of 
 the League, who continued in arms, must be con- 
 ciliated or subdued ; and if the King was to rule as 
 an orthodox and Catholic monarch, if no pretext 
 for disobedience was to be left to his subjects, he 
 must be acknowledged by the Pope. 
 
 In the North, Laon, Soissons, Amiens and Beau- 
 vais were held by Mayenne and Aumale, supported 
 by the Spaniards at La Fere. The Duke of Guise 
 was still master of Rheims and of the greater part 
 of Champagne. Chalons, Dijon and most of the 
 towns of Burgundy, though weary of the war, and 
 anxious to return to their allegiance, were coerced 
 by the garrisons of Mayenne. In the South, Tou- 
 louse and a considerable part of Languedoc were 
 still unsubdued. 
 
 In Provence the Leaguers had acknowledged 
 Henry's title, but were still in arms against the Duke 
 of Epernon, the Governor. So universal w^as the 
 discontent excited by the outrages of his Gascon 
 mercenaries, and by Epernon's own avarice or 
 cruelty, that the King was obliged to allow Lesdi- 
 guieres to send assistance from Dauphiny to the 
 men who were resisting his representative. The 
 Duke, who protested that, rather than lose his 
 government, he would sell himself to Spain or the 
 Devil, began in revenge to negotiate with Philip II. 
 
 The exhaustion and misery of the country were 
 greater than ever. Plains once rich with harvest 
 were rapidly becoming barren moors or fever-stricken
 
 1596] The King Enters Paris. 287 
 
 morasses. The wretched peasantry, driven by des- 
 peration and want, banded themselves together and 
 became in their turn the robbers of those who still 
 had something left. In the Limousin, Quercy and 
 La Marche 50,000 men were in arms under the 
 name of " Croquants." Partly by force, but more 
 by policy, the royal governors dispersed these bands 
 before the movement spread into Poitou. 
 
 When there were such troubles in the heart of the 
 kingdom, and so many rebels and traitors in all the 
 frontier provinces, the King of Spain might well 
 hope that even if he could not seat the Lifanta on 
 the French throne, he might easily find sufificient 
 employment for Henry IV. at home to prevent his 
 becoming troublesome abroad. 
 
 The power of Spain was most dangerous on the 
 northern frontier, and Mayenne was at Laon urgently 
 pressing the Governor of the Netherlands, the Arch- 
 duke Ernest, to send his troops into Picardy. Henry, 
 therefore, marched in person against Laon, that hill 
 fortress, which had been the capital of those Caro- 
 lingians from whom the genealogists of the Guises 
 derived their patron's claim to the throne. 
 
 Laon surrendered on August 2 (1594), but not 
 without much loss to the besiegers. Givry, the 
 gallant gentleman who had done Henry such good 
 service on the day of his accession, was one of those 
 who fell. A fortnight later, Amiens and the other 
 Picard towns submitted. 
 
 The lieutenant of Guise in Champagne, a soldier 
 of fortune, who, although the son of a gamekeeper, 
 called himself St. Pol and Duke of Rethelois, treated
 
 2 88 Henry of Navarre, [1592- 
 
 the Duke with insolent independence. In an alter- 
 cation between them he laid his hand on the hilt of 
 his sword, but before he could draw it, fell stabbed 
 to the heart by Guise. The dead man's mercenaries 
 at once opened the gates of the towns they garri- 
 soned to the Royalists. The Duchess of Guise, won 
 by the King's courtesy, urged her son while it was 
 yet time to accept the generous terms offered : 
 400,000 crowns to pay his debts, pensions for him- 
 self and his brothers, and the government of Pro- 
 vence in exchange for that of Champagne. 
 
 The family of Lorraine imagined that their descent 
 from King Rene of Anjou gave them an hereditary 
 claim to Provence, which was not less a frontier prov- 
 ince and exposed to Spanish aggression and intrigue 
 than Champagne. The majority, therefore, of the 
 Royal Council protested against the policy of en- 
 trusting it to the young man whom the King's 
 enemies had put forward as a pretender to the 
 Crown. But the event proved the wisdom of 
 Henry's decision. Guise, though young and fiery, 
 had a reserve of sober sense. In the days of his 
 popularity he had checked the foolish adulation of 
 the rabble, and had threatened to kill with his own 
 hand any one who addressed him as King. Eper- 
 non indeed, immediately on hearing that Guise had 
 been appointed governor, concluded his treaty with 
 Philip II., and persuaded the Leaguist magistrates 
 of Marseilles to follow his example. Marseilles, the 
 one great port between Barcelona and Genoa, had 
 long been the object of Spanish ambition. Carlo 
 Doria, with a Spanish fleet, was already in the
 
 1595] The King Enters Paris. 289 
 
 harbour, when a conspiracy and a rising concerted 
 between Guise and the townspeople, who detested 
 the yoke of Spain, drove the foreigners and their 
 supporters from the town. It was no small triumph 
 for Henry of Bourbon to have turned the son of 
 the hero of the League into an instrument of his 
 anti-Spanish policy. (Feb. 17, 1596.) 
 
 The Duke of Lorraine followed the example of his 
 young kinsman, abandoned the League, disbanded 
 his army and restored Toul and Verdun to France 
 for 900,000 crowns. 
 
 After the submission of the Duke of Guise and 
 the treaty with Lorraine, the only members of 
 the Lotharingian family whose hostility was still 
 formidable to Henry IV. were the Dukes of May- 
 enne and Mercoeur. These nobles, although they 
 could no longer hope to deprive him of the Crown, 
 still trusted to be able to convert their Governments 
 of Burgundy and Brittany into hereditary and inde- 
 pendent principalities. The support of Spain gave 
 them courage and strength to continue their rebel- 
 lion ; the fact that the King was still unabsolved by 
 the Pope supplied a pretext. 
 
 In all the difificulties and dangers which he had 
 encountered, Henry traced the persistent malevo- 
 lence of his hereditary enemy, Philip II. To hurl 
 defiance against the dreaded tyrant by an open decla- 
 ration of war would not only satisfy his personal re- 
 sentment, but might also be justified as politically 
 expedient. Whether war was declared or not, it could 
 not be doubted that Philip II. would do France all 
 the injury possible. But the less Henry IV. appeared
 
 290 Henry of Navarre. [1592- 
 
 to fear him, the less dangerous would he be. Much 
 of his power to do harm depended on the dread 
 inspired by the name of Spain, a dread based more 
 on her old renown than on her present strength. 
 Moreover, when once war had been declared, it 
 would be impossible for Frenchmen any longer to 
 pretend that in placing themselves under the pro- 
 tection of Philip II. they were not allying themselves 
 with the enemy of their country. Henry's Protestant 
 allies suspected him, since his abjuration, of a wish 
 to come to terms with Spain at their expense. Open 
 hostility would be the best reply to such suspicions. 
 The English and Dutch promised that they would 
 find Philip II. such occupation elsewhere, that it 
 would be impossible for his armies to invade France. 
 The Duke of Bouillon was certain that by means of 
 his friends in Luxembourg, and other Spanish prov- 
 inces, he would be able to do wonders for the King's 
 service. Sancy boasted that he could induce the 
 Swiss not only to connive at, but even actively to 
 assist in, the conquest of Franche Comt^, although 
 they had guaranteed the neutrality of that province. 
 \ Gabrielle d'Estrees, who had persuaded Henry to 
 
 j acknowledge and legitimise her recently born son, 
 / Caesar, supported the war party. If Franche Comt6 
 was conquered, she hoped that it would be bestowed 
 on him as an appanage. 
 
 Yielding to these arguments as well as to his 
 own indignation, Henry determined on open war 
 ' and closed his ears to Sully and other more cautious 
 advisers, who urged him to wait till he had consoli- 
 dated his power at home, before by an open defiance
 
 1595] 
 
 The Kino Enters Paris. 
 
 <3 
 
 291 
 
 he roused the old King to exert to the utmost 
 his still formidable resources. The Spanish mon- 
 archy was like some mighty beast of chase which, 
 bleeding from many wounds and apparently ex- 
 hausted, may yet, if the hunter approach too 
 incautiously, gather its failing energies at the touch 
 of his weapon and perish not unavenged.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OPEN WAR WITH SPAIN — PEACE WITH FOREIGN AND 
 DOMESTIC ENEMIES — THE EDICT OF NANTES. 
 
 1 595-1 598. 
 
 jEFORE the Spaniards were met in the 
 field, it was necessary to deal with a 
 domestic enemy scarcely less danger- 
 ous. 
 
 The Jesuits, alleging the traditional 
 respect of their order for the Holy 
 See, refused to offer up prayers in their churches 
 for an excommunicated Prince. 
 
 It was not true that the Society of Jesus had been 
 founded, as was pretended by their French oppo- 
 nents, to make the Church subservient to the ambi- 
 tion of the Spanish King. The primary object of 
 Loyola and of his successors had been to maintain 
 and to extend the authority of the Roman Church ; 
 to advance her frontiers over the realms of heathen- 
 dom as well as to defend them against the encroach- 
 ments of heresy. It was because, in the main, the 
 policy of Philip II. had not been inconsistent with 
 this object, because his enemies had also been the 
 
 292
 
 open War with Spain. 293 
 
 enemies of Romanisn, and not because the founder 
 and the first generals of the Order had been the sub- 
 jects of Spain, that the Jesuits had been the close 
 allies of the Spanish King. They had been intro- 
 duced into France by Henry II. at a time when 
 he had determined to join the crusa,de against heresy. 
 The rapid increase of their numbers, the crowds 
 who flocked to their churches, the popularity of their 
 schools, the noble and wealthy penitents who showed 
 by large gifts and bequests their gratitude for the 
 skill with which the fathers ministered to the 
 diseases of the soul, increased the jealousy and sus- 
 picion with which they were from the first regarded 
 by the constituted authorities in Church and State. 
 The Parliaments resented their assertion of papal 
 supremacy and their attacks upon the absolute 
 authority of the Crown. The higher clergy, not less 
 anxious than the lawyers to maintain the liberties 
 of the Galilean church, were further incensed by the 
 immunity claimed by the Jesuits from episcopal 
 jurisdiction. The older orders were irritated by their 
 popularity, their assumption of a name which seemed 
 to imply that they were the truer and more familiar 
 servants of the common Master. The University of 
 Paris was jealous of their educational success, and 
 after affiliating on certain conditions their College 
 of Clermont, was even more indignant that the 
 popularity of their instruction should attract the 
 vast majority of students belonging to the higher 
 classes, than it was at the non-fulfilment of the 
 stipulated terms. In 1565 the University, supported 
 by the Bishop and Clergy of Paris, as well as by the 
 
 7
 
 294 Henry of Navarre. 
 
 [1595- 
 
 municipality, ordered the Jesuits to close their lec- 
 ture rooms. An appeal to the law-courts followed. 
 Notwithstanding the ill-will of the lawyers, the 
 support of powerful friends obtained for the Jesuits 
 the permission of Parliament to continue their 
 teaching, pending the final decision of their case and 
 indefinitely postponed that decision. While the 
 League flourished, the Jesuits had been all powerful 
 in the University as well as elsewhere. But the old 
 quarrel between the Order and the University re- 
 mained in suspense, and appeared to the King's 
 advisers to supply a convenient weapon against his 
 most insidious enemies. The new Rector persuaded 
 the Faculties to reopen the litigation. Not satisfied 
 with demanding that the Jesuits should be forbidden 
 to teach, he asked that they should be banished 
 from the kingdom as the spies and tools of Spain. 
 The case against the Society was argued at great 
 length, with much eloquence and more learning by 
 counsel representing the University and the paro- 
 chial clergy of Paris. The advocate of the Univer- 
 sity was Antoine Arnauld, the father of a son of 
 like name, destined to win undying fame in battle 
 against the same antagonists. 
 
 Arnauld exaggerated the subservience of the 
 Jesuits to Spain, but not the irreconcilable antago- 
 nism between the principles of the Order and Galli- 
 canism. The Galilean Church had always maintained 
 the supreme authority of oecumenical councils in 
 things spiritual, and the independence in its own 
 sphere of the temporal power. The Jesuits on the 
 other hand taught that the Pope when he spoke as
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 295 
 
 Christ's vicar was the supreme and infaUible head of 
 the Church, and that an excommunicated Prince 
 was a tyrant, to whom his subjects not only owed 
 no allegiance, but whom any might lawfully slay. 
 
 To the charges of having violated every condition 
 imposed upon them when admitted into the king- 
 dom, of aiming at the subversion of the national 
 laws in Church and State, of instigating rebellion 
 and assassination, were added those other accusa- 
 tions to which, whether more or less founded, it has 
 been the misfortune of the Order to be at all times 
 exposed. 
 
 The counsel of the parochial clergy dwelt on 
 the sinister characteristic which distinguished the 
 Jesuits from other monastic bodies. The statutes 
 and rules of the older Orders were fixed and 
 immutable, while theirs could be changed or sus- 
 pended by their superiors as season, place and 
 circumstances might be thought to require. Yet 
 so great was the influence of the Order, so numer- 
 ous and powerful their friends, that they probably 
 would have escaped condemnation but for an event 
 which excited great popular feeling against them. 
 
 On November 27 (1594) after the King, on his 
 return from a journey, had entered the house of 
 Gabrielle d'Estrees, a young man slipped in, unper- 
 ceived among the crowd of courtiers, rushed forward 
 and struck at him with a knife. The blow might 
 have been fatal if at the very moment Henry had 
 not stooped forward to raise two gentlemen who had 
 been presented to him and who were kneeling, ac- 
 cording to custom, to clasp his knees. As it was,
 
 296 Henry of Navarre. [1595^ 
 
 his upper lip was cut through and his mouth wound- 
 ed. The would-be assassin proved to be a youth, 
 Jean Chastel by name, a pupil of the Jesuits, whose 
 weak intellect had been shaken by the discipline and 
 the threats of damnation with which they had at- 
 tempted to cure his moral depravity. He hoped 
 by some deed of conspicuous merit to escape the 
 punishment of his sins ; nay, to exchange the pains 
 of hell for the crown of martyrdom, should he perish 
 in the endeavour to deliver his church and country 
 from an excommunicated tyrant. 
 
 The attempt to assassinate the King was certain 
 to produce consequences so inconvenient to the 
 Jesuits, that they must be absolved from the charge 
 of having directly incited the murderer. But they 
 who excuse and glorify crime, cannot refuse responsi- 
 bility for the fruits of their doctrine. The men who 
 had exalted Jaques Clement as a saint and martyr 
 were not less guilty than if they had placed the 
 knife in Jean Chastel's hand. The Parliament no 
 longer hesitated. On the same day that Jean Chas- 
 tel was sentenced to suffer the barbarous punishment 
 inflicted on regicides — his flesh to be lacerated with 
 red-hot pincers, his right hand to be struck off, his 
 limbs to be torn asunder by four horses — the Jesuits 
 were banished from Paris and the kingdom. " It 
 seems," jested the King, " that the reverend fathers 
 could only be convicted by my mouth." There is 
 no more convincing proof of the imperturbable se- 
 renity and healthy elasticity of Henry's tempera- 
 ment than the fact that it was not warped by the 
 ever present danger of assassination, a strain under
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 297 
 
 which so many not ignoble natures have given 
 way. Soon after his accession he wrote to his mis- 
 tress that the number of men suborned to attempt 
 his Hfe was greater than could easily be believed. 
 But God, he added, would keep him. He could 
 scarcely be persuaded to take the commonest pre- 
 cautions. Yet it was with a sad and depressed coun- 
 tenance that he rode to Notre Dame to offer thanks 
 for his escape. When a courtier called his atten- 
 tion to the popular enthusiasm, he shook his head 
 and replied, " They are a mob {C'est un peuple\ ; if 
 my greatest enemy was where I am, and they saw 
 him pass, they would do as much for him as for me, 
 and shout even louder." \ 
 
 On January 17 (1595), war was declared against X 
 Spain. The Duke of Bouillon (Turenne) had at his 
 own suggestion been sent to invade Luxembourg. 
 The Duke of Montmorency, on whom the King had 
 bestowed the sword of Constable, condescended to 
 show his gratitude by leaving his province of Lan- 
 guedoc to drive Nemours, and an army sent to his 
 assistance by the Duke of Savoy, from the neigh- 
 bourhood of Lyons. But it was in Burgundy and 
 Franche-Comte that the King hoped to strike a 
 decisive blow. Burgundy was the province in which 
 Mayenne trusted, even if the rest of France slipped 
 from his grasp, to establish himself as an indepen- 
 dent ruler. Franche-Comte was an outlying portion 
 of the Spanish dominions, inhabited by a French- 
 speaking population, which the King thought 
 might form an appanage for Gabrielle's little son, 
 'fecently created Duke of Vendome. But money 
 
 ■i
 
 298 Henry of Navarre, [1595- 
 
 was needed to carry on the war. The disorganisa- 
 tion of the administration, not less than the exhaus- 
 tion and misery of the country, made it very difficult 
 to obtain the necessary resources. However reluc- 
 tant to impose new burdens on his people, the King 
 could not begin the campaign with an empty 
 treasury, and took the remonstrances of the Chambre 
 des Comptes on the measures adopted in no good 
 part. They raised objections, he told them, but 
 suggested no other means whereby he could support 
 his armies. If they had each offered him 2,000 or 
 3,000 crowns, or advised him to take their salaries, 
 there would have been no need of these new edicts. 
 He was not less outspoken to the Parliament, the 
 fervour of whose new loyalty had not been strong 
 enough to overcome their inveterate habit of seek- 
 ing to exalt their own importance, by criticising and 
 delaying the measures sent to them for registration. 
 "You have," he said, "kept me waiting these three 
 months, and I am now going to my army, as ill 
 provided as ever Prince was. You will shortly see 
 the injury you have done me. There are three 
 hostile armies in my kingdom. I shall seek them 
 out and I trust to bring them to account. I shall 
 freely expose my life. God will not desert me. He 
 has miraculously called me to the throne and as- 
 sisted me till now. He will continue to help me. 
 He does not leave His works imperfect. ... Be 
 as careful of what concerns the Commonwealth as 
 you are of your own interests. Do your duty. Be- 
 ware lest the venom of passion enter the heart. 
 France is the man, Paris is the heart. I love you
 
 '598] Open War with Spain. 299 
 
 as much as King can love. My words are not of 
 two colours. What I have in my mouth I have in 
 my heart. It is the nature of the French not to 
 iove what they see. When you no longer see me 
 you will love me ; and when you have lost me you 
 will regret me." 
 
 The King was eager to join his troops in Bur-. 
 gundy. Bouillon feebly supported by the Dutch 
 had effected nothing in Luxembourg ; but the Duke 
 of Longueville, Governor of Picardy, had overrun 
 Artois, defeating the Spanish governor of that prov- 
 ince, and, since the Archduke Ernest, Governor of the 
 Netherlands, had recently died (February 20th), it 
 was supposed that the Spaniards would not, during 
 that spring, attempt to do more than hold their own 
 on the Flemish frontier. 
 
 The younger Biron, who, since his father's death 
 had received the stafT of Marshal and the govern- 
 ment of Burgundy, had been sent to take possession 
 of his province. Assisted by the inhabitants, he had 
 driven Mayenne's garrisons from town after town, 
 and by the end of May had obtained possession of 
 the city of Dijon, although the citadel was still held 
 by Mayenne's soldiers. 
 
 Don Fernan de Velasco, Constable of Castile and 
 Governor of Milan, was ordered by his master to 
 collect forthwith all the forces he possibly could, 
 and to drive the French troops which had crossed 
 the frontiers out of Franche-Comte. Velasco with 
 10,000 men easily compelled the Lotharingian mer- 
 cenaries, who, as yet, were the only French army in 
 the country, to retreat. He boasted that the Prince of 
 
 y
 
 300 Henry of Navarre. t1595 
 
 Bcarn should rue his impertinent defiance of Spain, 
 threatening to devastate France with fire and sword. 
 Mayenne had joined him with an inconsiderable 
 force, all that was left of the army of the League. 
 
 Biron urged the King to hasten to his assistance. 
 Henry, who left Paris on May 30th reached Dijon on 
 June 4th, the very day on which the Constable of Cas- 
 tile was preparing to cross the Saone, which divided 
 the county from the duchy of Burgundy, the terri- 
 tory of the empire from that of France, at a little 
 town called Gray, eight leagues from Dijon. 
 
 The King and Biron determined to take up a 
 strong position at Lux, half way between Dijon and 
 Gray, with their infantry, and to delay with their 
 cavalry the advance of the enemy, till their position 
 was entrenched and the siege works round the citadel 
 of Dijon strengthened. Henry, who was without 
 any certain information of the Spaniard's movements, 
 sent Biron forward with a small detachment of cav- 
 alry to discover whether some troops reported by 
 his scouts to be advancing, were an isolated body of 
 cavalry or the advanced guard of Velasco's army. 
 
 After passing Fontaine Fran^aise, a village not far 
 from the frontier, Biron was met by an officer pre- 
 viously detached by the King, to discover the 
 enemy's position, who assured the Marshal that their 
 army was nowhere near; that the cavalry in front of 
 them were only some two hundred men with w^hom 
 he had been engaged. Upon this, Biron at once 
 sent word to Henry that he might safely advance, 
 and himself hurried forward with his men, putting to 
 flight some fifty or sixty skirmishers whom he met
 
 1598] Ope7i War with Spain. 301 
 
 as he pressed on to the summit of a hill midway be- 
 tween Fontaine Fran^aise and Sainte Seine, another 
 hamlet close to the frontier. From the top of the 
 hill he commanded a wider view, and soon saw that 
 he was on the point of being surrounded by a large 
 force of cavalry supported by infantry. "Would I 
 were dead," he exclaimed, " I have sent for the King 
 and here is the whole Spanish army." He at once 
 tried to fall back so as to warn the King, but was 
 furiously charged by the enemy. Wounded in face 
 and belly, covered with blood and dust, he main- 
 tained himself against ever increasing odds, till Henry 
 came up. Even then but two or three hundred 
 French horsemen were collected, while the enemy 
 were four times as numerous. The King without 
 stopping to put on his breastplate charged and drove 
 back Biron's assailants, and then, a few more of his 
 men having come up, attacked in succession, and 
 with such fury, three squadrons of the enemy's horse, 
 each more numerous than his own, that he drove 
 them back in confusion to seek the support of their 
 infantry. 
 
 Four hundred Spanish men-at-arms had not been 
 engaged. Mayenne urged Velasco to cut off the 
 King's retreat with his infantry, and to allow him to 
 lead the whole of the cavalry against the handful of 
 French, who were exhausted by their repeated 
 charges. If this were done, the defeat and probably 
 the death or captivity of the King would be the re- 
 sult. But the Constable of Castile could not believe 
 that the King would have bee^n so foolhardy were 
 not his army close at hand.
 
 302 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 While the enemy's generals debated, new bodies 
 of French horse were constantly gathering round 
 their King, who soon found himself too strong to 
 fear an attack. On the next day Velasco recrossed 
 the Saone, deaf to Mayenne's entreaties that he 
 would at least make some attempt to relieve the 
 citadel of Dijon. Mayenne had no personal animosity 
 to the King and had long cordially detested his 
 Spanish allies. As they would do nothing to assist 
 him he gladly acquiesced in a suggestion secretly 
 made to him by Henry, that he should retire to 
 Chalons, the only important town he still held in 
 Burgundy, and remain there quiet and unmolested 
 till they could come to terms. 
 
 The so-called battle of Fontaine Fran^aise, was 
 only a brilliant cavalry skirmish, but by removing 
 any inclination Velasco may have had to invade 
 France, by securing Burgundy and determining the 
 submission of Mayenne, it was as useful as the gain of 
 a pitched battle. Henry, by his headlong bravery, 
 no doubt imperilled a life of inestimable value to his 
 country, but it was at the price of such risk that he 
 maintained the reputation for chivalrous courage, 
 which gave him his chief hold on the loyalty and 
 affection of the French gentry. 
 
 During the next two months, the royal army 
 wasted Franche-Comte without provoking the Span- 
 iards to meet them in the field. The Swiss cantons, 
 guarantors of the neutrality of the County, had 
 been tempted to acquiesce in the French invasion 
 by a promise that, if conquered, the province should 
 be formed into a semi-independent state under their
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 303 
 
 suzerainty. But reflecting how idle this suzerainty 
 would be, they now alleged ancient treaties, and 
 summoned Henry to withdraw his forces. He was 
 anxious not to offend such useful allies, perhaps also, 
 since his presence and his resources were urgently 
 required in another quarter, glad of an honourable 
 pretext for withdrawing from an arduous adventure 
 too lightly undertaken. 
 
 Longueville, the Governor of Picardy, died soon 
 after his success in Artois, and was succeeded by 
 his brother-in-law, the Count of St. Pol. Philip H. 
 strained every nerve to enable the Count of Fuentes, 
 his commander in the Low Countries, to carry on 
 offensive operations with a chance of success. 
 Fuentes entered Picardy with 10,000 veteran troops 
 and after taking Catelet laid siege to Doullens. 
 Admiral Villars, the brave and able defender of 
 Rouen, and the Duke of Nevers were ordered to 
 hasten with the forces they commanded into Nor- 
 mandy and Champagne to the assistance of the 
 Count of St. Pol and of the Duke of Bouillon in 
 Picardy. Bouillon, always impatient of an equal 
 and insubordinate to a superior, quarrelled with 
 Villars and was anxious to achieve something deci- 
 sive before the arrival of Nevers, to whom the King 
 had entrusted the chief command. Supported by 
 St. Pol he insisted that the relief of Doullens should 
 at once be attempted and would not listen to Villars 
 who urged caution and the prudence of awaiting 
 the hourly expected approach of Nevers and his 
 army. 
 
 The result was a most crushing defeat (July 24,
 
 304 Henry of Navarre. t1595- 
 
 1595), 3,000 Frenchmen, and among them 600 men of 
 quahty, were killed. Villars, after fighting bravely 
 and with perhaps too much pertinacity, was taken 
 prisoner and put to death in cold blood by the 
 Spaniards as a " traitor." Doullens shortly after fell 
 (July 31st). The atrocities which accompanied the 
 sack of the town were marked by that cold-blooded 
 devilry in which the Spanish troops surpassed all 
 rivals. 
 
 Bouillon, far from learning modesty in defeat, lost 
 no opportunity of thwarting Nevers, who had joined 
 his colleagues a few hours after the rout. No 
 attempt was made to prevent Fuentes from laying 
 siege to Cambray with 18,000 soldiers besides 5,000 
 sappers and 72 cannon, a most formidable park of 
 artillery for those days. Cambray, a free Imperial 
 city, had been taken in 1581 by the Duke of Anjou, 
 who had placed a certain Balagny, bastard of 
 Monluc, Bishop of Valence, in command of the town 
 and garrison. 
 
 On the 2d of October while the garrison was on 
 the walls expecting an assault, the townspeople 
 seized one of the gates and admitted Fuentes, who 
 had promised to restore and respect the ancient 
 privileges and liberties of the city. A week later 
 the citadel in which Balagny and the French had 
 taken refuge capitulated. 
 
 On hearing that Cambray was threatened, Henry 
 hurried from Lyons towards the North-western 
 frontier. 
 
 When Henry reached his army, he found the 
 Spaniards in Cambray, and the French frontier-
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 305 
 
 towns panic-stricken. Collecting all his resources 
 and assisted by the Dutch with 2,000 men and the 
 pay for 2,000 more, the King laid siege to La Fere, 
 a Picard fortress surrendered by the League as 
 the price of Spanish help, and in which great stores 
 of warlike material and provisions had been accumu- 
 lated by Fuentes. 
 
 The siege of La Fere continued throughout the 
 winter. Meantime the leaders of the League found 
 in the absolution of Henry by the Pope, a decent 
 pretext for withdrawing from a hopeless contest. 
 
 Dislike of Spain, which he shared with the other 
 Italian princes, the warm intercession of Venice 
 and of the Duke of Florence, the advice of his con- 
 fessor Baronius and of his minister Cardinal Toleto, 
 led Clement VI IL to regret the harshness with 
 which he had rejected the French King's overtures. 
 It was an indication of his changed disposition that 
 he authorised the monastic orders in France to men- 
 tion the King in their prayers. 
 
 Notwithstanding the expulsion of their order 
 from Paris and Northern France, the most influen- 
 tial Jesuits agreed with Toleto in approving of a 
 conciliatory policy. Partly because they thus hoped 
 to make their peace with the French Court and to 
 obtain the revocation of the sentence of banish- 
 ment, partly because the alliance of the order with 
 Spain had broken down. Philip II. only tolerated 
 the Jesuits with their secret and powerful organisa- 
 tion so long as they were thoroughly Spanish. In 
 1573, a Spanish Jew was about to be elected general. 
 The party in the order opposed to Spain brought
 
 3o6 Henry of Navarre. [1596- 
 
 about his rejection. Henceforth PhiHp regarded 
 the order with dislike as a mere instrument of the 
 Papacy. Their rehgious doctrine appeared ques- 
 tionable to the Dominicans of the Spanish Inquisi- 
 tion. Their polemic against the Calvinists, their 
 desire to make things easy, so to speak, to put things 
 in a way acceptable to the common sense of the 
 average man, led them to express views not to be 
 reconciled with the theology of Aquinas, the canon 
 of Dominican orthodoxy. 
 
 The Jesuits, on the other hand, were too clear- 
 sighted not to see the growing impotence of Spain. 
 \ To make France subservient to their policy would 
 be a triumph not perhaps unattainable by patient 
 perseverance. 
 
 The adroit Du Perron, who had played a con- 
 X spicuous part in his master's conversion, arrived at 
 . Rome (July, 1595) to assist Cardinal d'Ossat in set- 
 tling with the Curia the method and conditions of 
 the King's absolution. Du Perron has been accused 
 of sacrificing his master's interests to the hope of a 
 Cardinal's hat ; a charge rendered credible by the 
 contemptible character of the time-server against 
 whom it was brought. Yet he supported D'Ossat 
 in stoutly contesting every point, and those on which 
 they gave way were for the most part matters of 
 form and ceremonial ; such as the blows which the 
 representatives of Henry knelt to receive, while they 
 kissed the Pope's foot, before he pronounced the 
 formula of absolution,— concessions which maybe 
 justified as the price paid to the Holy See for the 
 surrender by it of the two most vital points at issue.
 
 19981 Open War zuith Spain. 307 
 
 I. The French refused to admit that the heresy 
 or excommunication of their King could affect his 
 right to the throne or his claim to the allegiance of 
 his subjects : and by allowing that he did not require 
 " temporal rehabilitation " the Pope gave up that 
 dogma of the supremacy of the spiritual over the 
 temporal power, which, since the days of Hilde- 
 brand, it had been the aim of his predecessors to 
 establish. 
 
 II. Clement VIII. had declared it to be impossible 
 that he should absolve Henry of Bourbon, unless 
 he would prove the sincerity of his orthodoxy by 
 causing the decrees of the Council of Trent to be 
 observed in his dominions. But by admitting a 
 written stipulation that this should only be done so 
 far as was consistent with public tranquillity, he 
 gave back with the left hand what he took with the 
 right, and sanctioned that toleration of heresy, 
 which he pronounced to be inadmissible. 
 
 The final submission of Mayenne (January, 1596) 
 was the outward and visible sign of the dissolution 
 of the League. Yet the discredit of the Duke was 
 so great, and his power had been brought so low, 
 that the terms which he obtained might well appear 
 extravagantly favourable. He received the govern- 
 ment of the Isle of France, three fortresses as places 
 of surety, Chalon-sur-Saone, Seurre and Soissons, 
 together with the payment of all his debts. The 
 Parliament remonstrated against such lenity ; but 
 Mayenne had secured the intercession of Gabrielle 
 d'Estrees, by promising, in the event of the King's 
 death, to support the claim of her son, the infant
 
 \/ 
 
 -< 
 
 308 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 Duke of Vendome, to the Crown. The debts of 
 the Duke grew hke the hydra's heads. Directly 
 one was paid two more sprang up in its place, to 
 the profit of the debtor, if, as was suspected, this 
 was the source of his subsequent wealth. Yet it 
 must be allowed that Mayenne acted the part of a 
 defeated and pardoned rebel with some dignity and 
 honour. Unprincipled, and unscrupulous in his 
 ambition, and without those brilliant qualities which 
 dazzled the mob in his brother Guise, he was, 
 nevertheless, a man of considerable, though some- 
 what inarticulate ability. He had played the game 
 of conspiracy and treason and had lost, and was too 
 wise to return to it, when the chances of success were 
 infinitely less favourable. Henceforth, therefore, he 
 proved a loyal and useful subject. 
 
 His first interview with the King took place at 
 the country house of the royal mistress. Taking 
 him by the arm, Henry walked the Duke rapidly up 
 and down in the garden, till Mayenne, crippled with 
 the gout and of unwieldy bulk, was almost at his 
 last gasp. " One more turn," the King said in an 
 aside to Rosny, " and I shall have punished this fat 
 fellow for all the trouble he has given us," — and 
 then aloud : " Confess, cousin, that I am going a 
 little too fast for you." — " Faith, Sire, it is true ; if 
 your Majesty had gone on, I think you would have 
 killed me." — " Shake hands, cousin," laughed the 
 King, " for, God's truth, this is all the ill you need 
 ever fear from me," and he sent him back to the 
 house to drink a couple of bottles of a favourite 
 vintage.
 
 I5d8] Open War with Spain. 309 
 
 Not long after, Epernon, who had not published 
 his treaty with PhiHp II., and who found the inhab- 
 itants of the towns and districts he held everywhere 
 turning against him, thought good to make his peace 
 on terms not less favourable than the other rebels. 
 Henry's one aim was to conciliate his domestic V^ 
 enemies in order that he might direct the united \ 
 strength of the country against Spain. He was so 
 far successful that in the next year we find May- 
 enne, Epernon and Montmorency, representing the 
 parties of the League, of the Royalists of the time 
 of Henry III., and of the Politicians fighting to- 
 gether in the royal army under the walls of Amiens. 
 Yet it was difficult for his faithful servants, many of 
 whom could not obtain payment of the sums they 
 had spent in his service, to see the traitors who had 
 fought against him lavishly rewarded and caressed,, 
 without some feeling of discontent. These new 
 courtiers had not been standing idly waiting to be 
 hired in the market-place, but busily employed sow- 
 ing tares, and trampling under'Toot the master's 
 fields. And now, were they to receive a day's fair 
 wage many times over, while the honest labourers 
 who had borne the toil and heat of the day were 
 sent empty away ? 
 
 Although it was with the utmost difficulty that 
 the King found the money to keep his troops to- 
 gether, the siege of La Fere continued. After the 
 death of Francis D'O, he had placed his finances 
 under the management of a board. Some of the 
 members proved to be wanting in experience and 
 vigour, others in honesty ; even Rosny, who was
 
 3IO Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 among them, could effect nothing in the face of the 
 lethargy and ill-will of his colleagues. In the middle 
 of April (1596) the King wrote that it went to his 
 heart to see his people so ground down. That his 
 one wish was to relieve them from so many subsidies, 
 tallages and oppressions. But before anything could 
 be done, the Spaniards must be driven out of the 
 country. The 1,500,000 crowns of which his treasury 
 board had cheated him during the year, would have 
 sufBced for this. But, as it was, he was close to the 
 enemy without a horse that could carry him, with- 
 out a whole suit of armour: his shirts torn, his 
 doublet out at elbow, his larder empty. For two 
 days he had been taking pot-luck here and there. It 
 is indeed probable, that but for a most timely loan 
 from the Grand Duke of Tuscany he would have 
 been compelled to raise the siege. 
 
 The master of the Indies, the ruler of Mexico and 
 Peru, was not less poverty-stricken than his antago- 
 nist ; yet, early in 1596, he had been able by the most 
 desperate expedients to collect a considerable treas- 
 ure. Part of this was devoted to preparing a great 
 armament for the invasion of England ; but part 
 also was employed in supplying with a formidable 
 army, the new ruler of the Netherlands, the Cardinal- 
 Archduke Albert, who was about to exchange his 
 red hat for the hand of his cousin, the Infanta 
 Isabella. Twenty thousand men were collected at 
 Valenciennes, and it was generally thought that an 
 attempt would be made to relieve La Fere. Henry 
 hoped that the Archduke would fight a pitched 
 battle. But the movements of the Spaniards were
 
 IS98] Open War with Spain. 3 1 r 
 
 directed by a French renegade, De Rosne, a Marshal 
 of Mayenne's fashion, and a man of remarkable skill 
 and daring, to whom Fuentes had owed the successes 
 of the previous year. Acting by this man's advice, 
 the Cardinal-Archduke sent detachments to make a 
 feint in the direction of La Fere, and marched the 
 bulk of his forces rapidly on Calais. 
 
 On April 14th the King was startled to hear that 
 the enemy had stormed the outworks of that town. 
 Within twenty-four hours he was on the march with 
 his cavalry and some light infantry. Bad new^s met 
 him on the way. The Governor of Picardy, the 
 Count of St. Pol, had been driven back by a furious 
 storm when near the mouth of the harbour with re- 
 inforcements. No sooner were the walls of the town 
 breached, than the inhabitants, fearing the fate of 
 Doullens, compelled the Governor and garrison to 
 retire into the citadel. But that also was defended 
 with little perseverance or courage. The victors 
 acquired a vast booty, in addition to the possession 
 of a stronghold not less useful for their designs 
 against England than as a basis of operations in 
 Picardy. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth had once more overreached her- 
 self by trying to take advantage of her neighbours' 
 necessities. The Spaniards had captured the port 
 which commanded the narrow seas almost in sight 
 of a powerful armament collected at Dover under 
 the command of Essex. In a few hours 16,000 
 English might have been landed on the French 
 coast, a force sufificient to have compelled the hasty 
 retreat, or to have secured the defeat, of the Arch-
 
 312 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 duke. But the Queen asked for Calais as the price 
 of her help. Henry IV. replied that he would 
 sooner see it in the hands of the Spaniards, from 
 whom he trusted shortly to recover it, than of the 
 English, who had so stubbornly held it for genera- 
 tions. When Elizabeth relented, and the eagerly 
 expected permission to sail reached Essex, it was 
 too late, the Spanish flag already floated over the 
 citadel. 
 
 Since he could not save Calais, the King strength- 
 ened the garrisons of the neighbouring towns and 
 hastened back to La Fere, which surrendered on 
 May 22d. The Spaniards, meantime, had taken 
 Ham, Guines and Ardres. The gentry in the King's 
 service hurried home, according to their custom, as 
 soon as the siege was concluded, and the emptiness 
 of the treasury made it difficult to keep even the 
 mercenaries together ; yet Henry contrived to march 
 towards the Archduke at the head of an army more 
 formidable than the Austrian cared to meet. The 
 Spaniards recrossed the frontier and sat down be- 
 fore Hulst, which they took from the Dutch, at the 
 cost of many men, much money and a loss far more 
 irreparable, the life of Marshal de Rosne. 
 
 The recent successes of the Spaniards raised the 
 hopes of those nobles who saw in the weakness of 
 the monarchy a chance of enlarging their own privi- 
 leges. The Duke of Montpensier, a personage less 
 ill-meaning than foolish, was put forward to suggest 
 as an excellent plan for keeping an army on foot, 
 that the King should grant the hereditary possession 
 of their ofifices to all governors, whether of provinces
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 313 
 
 or towns, on condition that they should constantly 
 keep a certain number of men under arms for his 
 service. Henry asked his cousin, whether he had 
 taken leave of his senses, but this brilliant suggestion 
 was a straw which showed clearly enough from what 
 quarter the wind was blowing. 
 
 On the other hand, Henry IV, probably owed to 
 the unfavourable aspect of his affairs, the signature 
 by the Queen of England and her clients, the 
 United Provinces, of an offensive and defensive 
 alliance with France against Spain (May 24th). 
 Elizabeth's friendship was ever warmest in his ad- 
 versity. Although the assistance promised by the 
 allies for the war in France was meagre, the moral 
 efTect of the treaty was great. It committed the 
 Queen to open war against Philip II. She could 
 not, after so public an engagement, conclude without 
 indelible infamy a separate peace at the expense of 
 her allies, and exchange, as she had thought of do- 
 ing, Flushing and Brill for Calais. 
 
 It was something to have secured the open alli- 
 ance of England and of the United Provinces. But 
 if the struggle was to be carried to a speedy and 
 successful issue, it was not only necessary for Henry 
 IV. to obtain further resources, but also to prove to 
 his enemies at home and abroad that he commanded 
 the support of a vast majority of the nation. 
 
 There were some who advised the King to con- 
 vene the Estates and thus to show that he possessed 
 the confidence of his people. But the greater num- 
 ber of his councillors pointed out the opportunity 
 that would thus be given to intrigue and faction :
 
 314 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 the little good effected by recent meetings of the 
 States-General ; the weary debates that would ensue 
 accompanied by unprofitable complaints of evils, 
 which all must see and deplore, but which could 
 hardly be remedied while a hostile army was in the 
 land ; the certainty that the necessary supplies 
 would only be voted after long and perhaps ruinous 
 delay. Henry, not more disposed to share his au- 
 thority than other born rulers of men, listened read- 
 ily to advice which fell in with his humour. Nor 
 can it be denied that there was no general wish in 
 France that the Estates should meet. The country 
 was incHned to acquiesce in personal government by 
 the same weariness of political strife, the same ma- 
 terial exhaustion, the same desire of repose, the 
 same tendency to await reforms from above, which 
 led the national representatives, at the conclusion 
 of the hundred years' war, to surrender the power of 
 the purse by voting a permanent tallage, and which 
 at other periods have led the French to submit to 
 the usurpations of some " Saviour of society," a 
 Richelieu or a Napoleon. 
 
 The last meetings of the States-General had 
 merely been the preludes to civil war. The tradi- 
 tions of constitutional government had been dis- 
 credited by being used as the instruments of faction. 
 The reforming, the constitutional and progressive 
 party, so influential a generation earlier at the 
 States-General of Orleans and Pontoise, had been 
 composed of two kinds of men, the Huguenots 
 and the Moderates or Politicians. The Huguenots 
 when the hope of seeing their creed adopted as the
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 315 
 
 national faith faded away, appear to have laid aside 
 all wish -to introduce constitutional reforms ; the 
 Politicians, weary of anarchy and of the insolence 
 of Spain, were willing to support any government, 
 strong enough to establish order at home and to 
 make France respected abroad. The King, there- 
 fore, met with general approval when he had re- 
 course to a half measure, for which precedents were 
 not wanting, and summoned a meeting of Notables 
 for the Autumn (1596). 
 
 The Notables met at Rouen (Nov. 4, 1596), for an 
 epidemic was raging in Paris. One hundred and 
 fifty nobles, prelates and magistrates had been sum- 
 moned, but on the first day only eighty were present 
 and these for the most part lawyers and ofificials. 
 The King welcomed them in a characteristic har- 
 angue : " If I wished to gain the name of orator, I 
 should have learnt some long and eloquent speech 
 and have spoken it before you with suitable dignity ; 
 but, gentlemen, my wishes aspire to two more glori- 
 ous titles, to be hailed the Saviour and Restorer of 
 this State. You know, to your cost, as I to mine, 
 that when God called me to this Crown, I found 
 France not only ruined but almost lost to the French. 
 By the divine favour ; by the prayers and good 
 counsels of my servants who do not follow the pro- 
 fession of arms ; by the sword of my brave and gen- 
 erous nobles — among whom I reckon the Princes, 
 for the honour of a gentleman is our best possession ; 
 by my own toils and exertions, I have saved our 
 country from annihilation. Let me now save it from 
 ruin. Share this second glory with me, my dear
 
 3 1 6 Henry of Navarre. \\b^^ 
 
 subjects, as you shared in the former. I have not, 
 like my predecessors, called you together merely to 
 approve what I have determined. I have summoned 
 you to take your advice, to believe and to follow it. 
 In short because I desire to place myself under your 
 guardianship, a desire seldom felt by a King, a grey 
 beard and a conqueror." 
 
 The King's answer to some expression of surprise 
 from his mistress that he should have spoken of 
 putting himself under the tutelage of the Notables, 
 has often been repeated, " Ventre St. Gris, so I 
 said, but I meant with my sword by my side." 
 It is not so well known that the draft of his frank 
 and artless speech, written and elaborately corrected 
 in his own hand, still exists in the French National 
 library. Had they known that it was an after 
 thought which made them " Gentlemen " and " his 
 dear subjects," and that his love for his people was 
 not at first extreme, the Notables might have dis- 
 trusted their Prince's flattery. The King's impul- 
 sive frankness was indeed not wholly false : he often 
 said what he really meant and said it simply, but 
 this simplicity was the perfection of art. He boasts 
 of everything, and even his frankness is the subject 
 of his self-commendation. " I am grey without, 
 golden within." " What is on my lips is in my 
 heart . . . my words are not of two colours." 
 If we examine his speeches we find in them little ar- 
 gument, but skilful flattery and sometimes scathing 
 denunciation ; vague and often repeated promises 
 of future benefits; much praise of himself and ener 
 getic exhortation to others to go and do likewise.
 
 1598J Open War with Spain. 3 1 7 
 
 The Notables protested their devotion ; suggested 
 some reforms ; and, quite unconstitutionally, voted 
 a duty of five per cent, ad valorem on all goods 
 brought for sale into towns, villages and markets. 
 This tax, called the Pancarte, proved eminently un- 
 popular, and was withdrawn after no long time. 
 The assembly was dismissed and the King returned 
 to Paris, where, for the first time since his accession, 
 he lived for a while the life of a pleasure-loving 
 Prince, enjoying ballets and masques, hunting parties 
 and sumptuous feasts. It was noted as a mark of 
 sinful extravagance, likely in a time of general want 
 and public poverty to provoke the wrath of Heaven, 
 that Bon Chretien pears at a crown a piece, and 
 sturgeons which cost one hundred crowns, were 
 served at the christening feast of the son of the 
 Constable Montmorency. 
 
 Yet more serious matters were not neglected. 
 Preparations were made to open the campaign of 
 the next year by the siege of Arras, and stores and 
 ammunition were collected at Amiens. As the 
 citizens insisted that their privilege not to receive a 
 garrison should be respected, they could guard their 
 own walls with 10,000 armed men, the King ordered 
 the Count of St. Pol, the Governor of Picardy, to 
 take up his abode in the town and to watch over its 
 safety. 
 
 But Hernantello de Portocarrero, the Governor of 
 Doullens, an officer as fertile of resource as he was 
 prompt and bold in action, heard that the train- 
 bands of Amiens were not over-exact in performing 
 their military duties. Accordingly a party of his
 
 3i8 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 men disguised as peasants on their way to market 
 and driving a big waggon, appeared early one morn- 
 ing at the gates. As they passed under the arch of 
 the portal the neck of a sack filled with nuts came 
 undone, and while the guards were scrambling for 
 the scattered contents, some of the pretended 
 countrymen blew out their brains, or stabbed them 
 with their concealed weapons, while others cut the 
 traces of the cart horses, so that the waggon was left 
 standing in the way and it was impossible either to 
 close the gates or to drop the portcullis. Porto- 
 carrero and his men lurking in ambush hard by 
 rushed up at the sound of the scuffle and were in 
 possession of the town before the terrified citizens 
 could collect or offer any effective resistance. 
 
 *' On Wednesday, the 12th of this month " (March, 
 1597), writes the diarist L'Estoile, " in the midst of 
 feasts and dances came the news of the surprise of 
 Amiens, to the dismay of the revellers and of Paris. 
 Even the King, whose constancy and magnanimity 
 are not easily shaken, seemed stunned by the blow. 
 Yet looking to God, as is his wont in adversity, 
 rather than in prosperity, he said aloud : ' This blow 
 is from Heaven. These poor people have lost them- 
 selves by refusing the small garrison I wished to 
 give them.' Then, after a moment's thought, 
 ' Enough of playing the King of France ; it is time 
 to be again the King of Navarre.' " 
 
 That same day, Henry determined on the measures 
 to be taken for the recovery of the lost town, and 
 suggested or approved of expedients for raising the 
 money required for a long and difficult siege. Before
 
 1598] Open War tvith Spain. 319 
 
 nightfall he was on horseback, and on his way to the 
 frontier. He sent Marshal Biron to invest Amiens 
 on the north, to cut off the communications of Por- 
 tocarrero with Doullens and to prevent reinforce- 
 ments or supplies reaching Amiens from the Low 
 Countries. He himself visited the towns on the 
 Somme, reassured the panic-stricken inhabitants and 
 strengthened their garrisons. Then he hurried back 
 to Paris to obtain the necessary means for paying 
 and supporting his army. The Parliament had re- 
 fused to register the financial edicts. The creation 
 of new judicial ofifices for the purpose of raising 
 money by their sale, diminished both their emolu- 
 ments and their dignity. Among other grounds for 
 their opposition, they alleged that the King wasted 
 money on his buildings. This Henry took much 
 amiss; he ought not, he complained, to be grudged 
 the little he spent in this way. Building was his 
 only consolation and pleasure in the midst of his 
 toils ; hunting, gambling and women were appar- 
 ently not worth mention. Yet in addressing the 
 Parliament he restrained his anger and almost 
 assumed the tone and attitude of a suppliant. He 
 had come to beg alms from them on behalf of those 
 who were spending their lives and toiling day and 
 night to secure the tranquillity of their countrymen, 
 •'I have been," he continued, "on the frontier. I 
 have done what I could to keep the people in good 
 heart, I have encouraged the country folk. I have 
 fortified their church towers. But I must tell you, 
 gentlemen, that I felt their cries of ' Vive le Roi ' 
 like so many stabs in my heart, knowing that I 
 
 X
 
 320 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 shall be compelled to abandon them on the first 
 day " (of the enemy's invasion). The lawyers were 
 obdurate until the King held a "Bed of Justice" 
 and commanded instant registration. By this means 
 and by the zeal of Rosny, into whose hands the 
 control of the finances was gradually passing, some 
 2,700,000 crowns were raised and it became possible 
 to press the siege of Amiens with vigour and at the 
 same time to check the renewed aggressions of 
 Mercceur in Brittany, and of the Duke of Savoy on 
 the Eastern frontier, as well as to guard against the 
 intrigues and plots reported from various quarters, 
 last writhings of the scotched snake of the League. 
 
 During April and May the energy and care of 
 Biron prevented the Spaniards from throwing more 
 than one reinforcement of 600 men into Amiens and 
 drew a double line of entrenchments round the town 
 to the north of the Somme. Henry reached the 
 leaguer on June 7th and completed the investment 
 by extending his posts south of the river, but with- 
 out protecting them by defensive works. 
 
 The King found an army of barely 15,000 men, 
 which after his arrival quickly grew to 25,000, the 
 gentry showing their usual zeal when there was an 
 opportunity of fighting under the immediate com- 
 mand of the King. Queen Elizabeth was with diffi- 
 culty induced to fulfil her obligations under the 
 recent treaty and to send 2,000 men. The rebellion 
 in Ireland, the armament which, notwithstanding 
 the capture of Cadiz and of his fleet in the previous 
 year, Philip II. had again equipped for the invasion 
 of England, were more than mere pretexts. But in
 
 1598] Open War with Spain, 3^1 
 
 addition to the Queen's contingent, English volun- 
 teers crossed the Channel, or came from Flanders to 
 fight under so popular a Prince against the common 
 enemy. Six thousand English and Dutch soldiers 
 made up for the absence of the majority of the 
 French Protestants, who, indignant that so little 
 attention was paid to their complaints, and alarmed 
 by the King's reconciliation with the Pope and by 
 the concessions made to his opponents at their 
 expense, listened to wild talk of rising in arms, 
 seizing Tours and taking advantage of the King's 
 difficulties to compel attention to their wrongs. 
 
 Although more than once Henry's resources were 
 nearly exhausted, the care of Rosny never allowed 
 the military chest to become quite empty ; and since 
 the soldiers were paid, they could be kept under 
 good discipline. The peasantry of the neighbour- 
 hood instead of being plundered and tortured were 
 able to cultivate their fields and reap their harvest 
 in safety, whilst they found in the royal camp a 
 profitable market for their produce. It was perhaps 
 the first time during these wars that the proximity 
 of a large army was felt to be a blessing rather than 
 a curse. 
 
 Sufficient accommodation, a well-supplied com- 
 missariat, excellent sanitary arrangements, good 
 quarters and attendance for the sick and wounded 
 bore witness to the King's humane and intelligent 
 care for his men. It was usual in the sieges of this 
 period for a quarter or even half of the assailants to 
 perish from disease, privations and neglect, but 
 before Amiens, notwithstanding much hard fighting,
 
 32 2 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 the French lost barely 600 men in four months. The 
 Archduke Albert, though fully alive to the import- 
 ance of holding Amiens — he would sooner, he said, 
 see the enemy in possession of Ghent or Antwerp — 
 could attempt nothing to raise the siege till he had 
 money. But as the Spanish Government was en- 
 tirely without credit, money was not procurable till 
 the taxes were collected and the galleons had 
 arrived from the Indies. Portocarrero, though 
 unaided, showed the same enterprise and resource 
 in defending as in taking Amiens, and his death on 
 September 3d was an irreparable loss to the 
 besieged. 
 
 It was not till the 12th of the same month, that 
 the Cardinal Archduke succeeded in assembling his 
 army, 18,000 foot and 3,000 horse at Douai ; on the 
 14th the sound of the guns he fired to announce his 
 approach, was heard by the besieged. On the north 
 of the Somme, the French lines were too strong to 
 be attacked, but if the Spaniards could cross the 
 river and approach the town from the south, they 
 would either oblige the King to fight a pitched 
 battle with only a part of his army, or to raise the 
 siege. 
 
 On the 15th the Archduke attacked the village of 
 Longpr^, which lay outside the French lines and 
 commanded the nearest bridge over the Somme. 
 Marshal Biron, suspected of wishing, like his father, 
 to protract the war, was accused of having left Long- 
 pr^ purposely unfortified and of having informed 
 the enemy that this was the vulnerable point of the 
 French position, but as the King had personally
 
 1598] Open War with Spain. 323 
 
 directed the siege for three months, he must share 
 the blame of what was more probably a careless 
 oversight. 
 
 In the absence of the King, who was visiting his 
 posts south of the river, the Duke of Mayenne took 
 the command of the French, sent the Swiss and all 
 the artillery he could collect to Longpre and began 
 hastily to throw up entrenchments. If the Spaniards 
 had pressed resolutely forward, Mayenne with his 
 inferior forces would scarcely have been able to pre- 
 vent them from occupying the village and crossing 
 the bridge. But they halted at the first salvo of 
 artillery, then fell back and gave the Duke time to 
 strengthen his position and to bring up more men. 
 By the time that Henry returned to his army, the 
 Archduke had lost his opportunity, and began to 
 retreat after a futile attempt to throw a division of 
 picked men across the river. He came on, Henry 
 wrote to Elizabeth, like a soldier, but fell back like 
 a priest. The King would have pursued and 
 attacked the retreating enemy, but was restrained 
 by the caution or jealousy of his officers ; but the 
 effect of a victory in the field could scarcely have 
 been greater than that of the precipitate retreat of 
 the relieving army and the consequent capitulation 
 of Amiens (September 19th). 
 
 The recovery of Amiens after the futile attempt 
 of the Regent of the Netherlands to raise the siege, 
 the good order and discipline of the French army, 
 the unshaken loyalty of the majority of the former 
 leaders of the League, the unexpected resources 
 obtained by the ingenuity and energy of Rosny, did
 
 324 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 more than any previous success to raise the reputa- 
 tion of the King and the opinion of his power at 
 home and abroad. He determined to make use of 
 his superiority in arms and of the discouragement 
 of his opponents to ome to terms with his domes- 
 tic and foreign enemies, and to satisfy, so far as was 
 practicable, the demands of the Huguenots, before 
 their despair or the ambition of some among their 
 leaders led to new broils and complications. 
 
 The life of Philip H. was drawing to a close in the 
 midst of sufferings so awful that his enemies could 
 not but recognise in them the divine chastisement 
 of a tyrant and a persecutor. He had determined 
 that the Netherlands should be the appanage of his 
 daughter Isabella, and that she should rule there 
 under the suzerainty of Spain, jointly with her 
 cousin the Cardinal-Archduke Albert, whom she 
 was to marry as soon as the Pope had released him 
 from his priestly vows. But the position of the 
 new Governors of the Netherlands would be pre- 
 carious if exposed to the enmity of France as well as 
 of England and of the United Provinces; nor did he 
 wish to leave his young and incapable successor on 
 the Spanish throne involved in the dangers of a great 
 war. He therefore gladly availed himself of the 
 mediation of the Pope to open negotiations with the 
 man to whom he had so long denied any title but 
 that of Prince of B^arn. 
 
 Clement VHI. had for some time been endeavour- 
 ing to bring about an understanding between the 
 two great Catholic powers and to unite them in an 
 attack upon England, the stronghold of heresy.
 
 1598] Open WaT- with Spain. 325 
 
 Early in 1597 he assured Cardinal d'Ossat, the 
 French ambassador, that his master was not bound 
 to keep faith with heretics, nor indeed, as a sover- 
 eign, to observe any engagements injurious to the 
 interests of his country : " Salus reipublicae summa 
 lex." To these Machiaveiiian suggestions Henry 
 IV. replied in a vein of impassioned honour: " I have 
 pledged my faith to the Queen of England and the 
 United Provinces to join my forces with theirs to 
 resist the arms of the King of Spain. How could I 
 then treat with him to their hurt, or even fail in a 
 single one of those points I have promised to them, 
 without betraying my duty, my honour and my own 
 interests? No pretext, I think, could be sufficient 
 to excuse such baseness and perfidy ; and if it could, 
 sooner than avail myself of it I would lose my life. 
 I have always found it better to trust in God than 
 in the strength and works of men. Since His divine 
 justice is infallible, I can nevei believe that He would 
 favour an act of treachery so glaring as I should 
 commit, if I were to desert my friends and allies for 
 my own profit." Perhaps when the King sent this 
 despatch, he protested over-much, perhaps he now 
 argued, not without show of reason, that he had no 
 intention of betraying his allies and turning his arms 
 against them, and only contemplated opening ne- 
 gotiations and concluding a peace in which they 
 might, if they pleased, be included. 
 
 No doubt he violated the express stipulations of 
 the treaty concluded two years before, by which the 
 contracting parties bound themselves to enter into 
 no separate dealings or treaty with Spain, yet the
 
 326 Henry of Navarre. [159% 
 
 severity with which some even among French his- 
 torians condemn Henry's conduct, appears excessive. 
 When the French envoys signed the treaty with 
 Ehzabeth, they assured their master, " that no Prince 
 can be bound by any treaty to do that which may 
 endanger the safety of his people," and although he 
 himself, as we have seen, appears to have repudiated 
 this axiom of sixteenth-century statecraft, it was 
 recognised by the English ministry when, after 
 Henry's abjuration, they pointed out that the rela- 
 tions between France and England must henceforth 
 be determined by considerations of self-interest. 
 Elizabeth herself certainly never acted, nor intended 
 to act, on any other principle. Again and again she 
 had been prepared to betray her allies and clients, 
 the Dutch, if only Philip H. had made it worth her 
 while. At that very moment, so his agents assured 
 the French King, she was secretly negotiating with 
 the Archduke Albert, and would have concluded 
 peace on the basis of an exchange of Flushing and 
 Brill for Calais and Ardres. Henry at any rate 
 contemplated no such baseness as this. He gave 
 his plenipotentiaries the most stringent directions to 
 conclude no peace to which his allies might not have 
 the option of acceding. From the first he made no 
 attempt to conceal his intentions from them. Soon 
 after the recovery of Amiens he wrote to Elizabeth 
 " that he knew it to be more than ever necessary for 
 their common safety, that they should in all things 
 be close friends. He himself would never weary of 
 fighting for a cause so just as theirs; born and 
 reared as he had been in the midst of the toils and
 
 1598] Ope7i War with Spain. 327 
 
 dangers of war, where glory, the best food of every 
 truly royal soul, is to be gathered like a rose amid 
 thorns. But for all that, he might well be weary of 
 the evils and miseries inflicted by war on his peo- 
 ple; since therefore the Spaniards were disposed to 
 negotiate, he could not do otherwise than enter into 
 treaty with them." 
 
 The French and Spanish plenipotentiaries met at 
 Vervins in February ; the peace was signed on 
 May 2, 1598. 
 
 The terms between the two contracting powers 
 were settled without much difificulty. Retaining 
 Cambray, the Spaniards evacuated Calais, the other 
 Picard towns and the port of Blavet in Brittany. 
 The French restored the county of Charolais. The 
 negotiations were somewhat protracted by questions 
 concerning the allies on both sides. The inclusion 
 of Mercoeur in the treaty was absolutely refused by 
 the French. On the other hand, Henry insisted that 
 the option of acceding to the peace within six 
 months should be offered to his confederates. 
 
 The Dutch refused to accept a truce which the 
 Spaniards were with difficulty persuaded to offer, 
 and Henry IV. promised to continue to assist them 
 indirectly by the most prompt repayment possible 
 of the large sums for which he was their debtor. 
 
 While his ministers began to negotiate the peace 
 with Spain, Henry left Paris for the west to re- 
 ceive the submission of Brittany. The departure 
 of the English, recalled by their Queen on account 
 of the threatened Spanish invasion, and of serious 
 troubles in Ireland, together with the discontent of
 
 ^^, 
 
 328 Henry of Navarre. 11595 
 
 the Huguenots, had given a respite to the Duke of 
 Mercoeur. But the Bretons, however much attached 
 to their provincial independence, felt no hereditary 
 loyalty to a Lotharingian Prince, and were weary of 
 the civil war and of the presence of the Spaniards. 
 As soon as the King's approach was known, town 
 after town threw open its gates. It seemed that 
 Mercoeur must either submit himself a suppliant to 
 the King's discretion, or seek a refuge among his 
 Spanish allies at Blavet. A little daughter of six 
 years was the sole heiress of his vast riches and wide 
 domains, and he offered her hand to the four-year- 
 old Caesar of Vendome. After this he and his 
 adherents were confirmed in all their possessions, 
 ofifices and dignities, their zeal for the Catholic faith 
 was commended in the public treaty, and by secret 
 articles they were promised additional gratuities and 
 pensions. The King probably persuaded himself 
 that whatever Mercoeur gained would be to the 
 ultimate advantage of his son, and that the complete 
 restoration of domestic peace could scarcely be 
 bought at too high a price. 
 
 In forming our estimate of Henry IV's treat- 
 ment of the Huguenots, we have to consider two 
 questions : First, did he unduly delay the satisfac- 
 tion of their just claims? Secondly, was the final 
 settlement fair and equitable? 
 
 When Henry IV. succeeded to the throne, the 
 Catholics feared that, if immediately victorious, he 
 would disregard his promise to respect and protect 
 the Roman Church, as the established religion of 
 the State. The Protestants, when he abjured their
 
 V 
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 329 
 
 creed, disbelieved his assurance that he would con- 
 tinue their friend and that if they were attacked he 
 was prepared to die in their defence. Du Plessis- 
 Mornay, generally just to the honesty of his master's 
 intentions, expressed this feeling openly in writing 
 to him. His conversion, he maintained, must either 
 be sincere, or yielded to compulsion. If sincere, 
 what have the Reformed Churches to hope from his 
 affection ? If compulsory, can he, who could not 
 protect his own conscience, protect that of others? 
 And if his conscience is enslaved, is his will likely 
 to remain free ? It is a shorter step from one wrong to 
 a greater than from right to wrong, from idolatry 
 to persecution than from pure religion to idolatry. 
 
 Both Romanists and Reformers were unjust to 
 their King. He could not fail to see that while on 
 the one hand the supremacy of Catholicism was too 
 firmly established in France to be overthrown, on 
 the other hand the disappointment and despair of 
 the Protestant minority would be fatal to all possi- 
 bility of a quiet reign. Had he felt no gratitude to 
 the men " who had guarded his cradle and borne 
 him to power on their shoulders," there were two v j 
 suf^cient motives to determine him to make the X 
 condition of the Huguenots as tolerable as possible. 
 One of these motives was the wish to convince the 
 Protestant powers that he was no enemy to their 
 religion, and that they might trust him as their 
 leader in that renewed struggle with the Austro- 
 Spanish house, to which he looked forward ; the 
 other was the fear that the Huguenots might place 
 themselves under the protection of England or of 
 
 X
 
 -+. 
 
 ;^T,o Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 the Elector Palatine and so once more expose 
 France to the danger of foreign intervention. 
 
 He who believed that no form of ecclesiastical 
 polity was of divine institution, and who, while con- 
 vinced that there was much error in the doctrine of 
 Rome, suspected that his Calvinist friends had no 
 monopoly of truth, was not likely to hold the balance 
 unfairly, when the tranquillity of his kingdom and 
 the success of his policy demanded that he should 
 do equal justice to the jarring sects. 
 
 Nor do the complaints appear just which were 
 constantly made by the Protestant assemblies, re- 
 peated by Aubigne and other Huguenot writers, 
 and endorsed by their co-religionists down to the 
 present time, that the King wilfully delayed the 
 satisfaction of the demands of the Reformed 
 Churches, that he granted their desire to all other 
 factions and gorged his enemies with favours, be- 
 fore he gave a thought to his most faithful friends. 
 After he was firmly established on the throne, he 
 required all the authority, all the resources he had 
 painfully accumulated to impose the acceptance and 
 the observation of the Edict of Nantes on the courts 
 of law, the magistrates and officials. 
 
 It was the constant and well-founded complaint 
 of the Protestants that the moderate concessions 
 made to them by the treaty of 1589 and by the 
 edict of 1577, re-enacted in 1594, were rendered 
 nugatory by the ill-will and disregard of the King's 
 authority, shown by the Parliaments and by the 
 Governors of towns and provinces. But if his 
 authority was not suf^cient to obtain for the Protes-
 
 1598] The Edict oj Nantes. 331 
 
 tants a moderate instalment of what they might 
 justly claim, how would it have been possible for \1 
 Henry to enforce the complete satisfaction of their A. 
 demands ? 
 
 We may fairly ask those who accuse Henry IV. of 
 neglecting the interests of the Protestants, to point 
 out the time previous to 1598 when he could not 
 only have promulgated an edict securing to them 
 equal rights, toleration and liberty of worship, but 
 also have enforced such a law. 
 
 Clearly he could not have done so at his accession. 
 At that anxious time the utmost Du Plessis-Mornay 
 ventured to advise, was, that toleration should be 
 granted to what might be named the " so-called " Re- 
 formed Church, under colour of the old edicts set 
 aside, but not legally repealed, by the League ; while 
 at the same time the Huguenots should be warned 
 to behave with greater moderation. 
 
 Nor in 1591, after the victory of Ivry, does the 
 same " Pope of the Huguenots " ask for more than 
 the re-enactment of the edict of 1577 " under which, 
 France had been prosperous, all the King's subjects 
 satisfied, . . . the Catholic religion maintained 
 in its dignity, the necessities of the Reformed re- 
 ligion provided for ; by which in short it had seemed 
 that the question had been so settled, that it ought 
 not to have been re-opened." 
 
 After his conversion and the recovery of Paris 
 (1594), Henry accomplished the desire of Du Plessis- 
 Mornay, by re-enacting the edict of 1577 together 
 with the clauses added to it by the treaties of Nerac 
 and Fleix. Nay, more, since the Reformed Churches
 
 332 Henry of Navarre. [1596- 
 
 had lost their protector by his abjuration, and he 
 neither would nor could allow a foreign prince or a 
 powerful and ambitious noble to succeed him in that 
 office, he not only permitted, but even suggested, 
 that the Churches should organise themselves more 
 efficiently for self-government and defence. The 
 Huguenot community was divided into ten prov- 
 inces, each province elected an assembly composed 
 of an equal number of nobles, commoners and min- 
 isters, and these provincial assemblies nominated a 
 general council composed of ten members — four 
 nobles, four burgesses and two ministers. The ec- 
 clesiastical organisation, the consistories and synods, 
 remained unaltered. 
 
 If then the position of the Reformed Churches was 
 still unsatisfactory and precarious, this was not so 
 much owing to the neglect of the King, or to the 
 absence of legal guarantees as to the persistence of 
 their enemies and the weakness of the central Gov- 
 ernment, which could not control the law-courts and 
 officials, or punish the insubordination of the more 
 powerful nobles. More ample concessions would 
 have been valueless, since they would have remained 
 a dead letter. 
 
 The Huguenots not only complained that the 
 turbulence of their enemies and the ill-will of the 
 judges rendered the protection of the law futile, but 
 also that each treaty the King concluded with his 
 rebels contained clauses impairing their right to that 
 protection. The Catholic nobles and princes were 
 allowed to proscribe dissent within their domains, 
 the towns stipulated that it should not be tolerated
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 333 
 
 within their walls. The sturdy importunity of the 
 Protestant assemblies was not wholly displeasing to 
 the King. He writes to a friend, that he wished 
 that it might seem as if he granted whatever may be 
 necessary for their welfare, rather because he cannot 
 avoid doing so, than from his love towards them. 
 Yet the Reformers not unreasonably suspected the 
 sincerity of the royal intentions, when they saw the 
 growing favour of their old enemies ; the presence of 
 former Leaguers in the royal council ; the reconcilia- 
 tion of the King and the Pope ; the heir to the 
 throne, the young Prince of Conde, taken away from 
 his Protestant teachers and educated as a Catholic ; 
 their own position becoming every day more pre- 
 carious. Would Henry after he had come to terms 
 with or subdued all his enemies, when his power 
 was firmly established, care to provoke new discon- 
 tent and to encounter fresh trouble in order that he 
 might provide for their interests? 
 
 When Amiens was surprised the Protestant Parlia- 
 ment was in session at Saumur, that strong fortress 
 overhanging the Loire, which under the government 
 of Mornay was in some sort the metropolis of the 
 Huguenot Church. The King desired them to 
 postpone their debates and to hasten to his assist- 
 ance. Mornay urged them to obey the summons. 
 Although a few young nobles joined the royal army, 
 the majority held aloof. Yet the violent counsels of 
 some rash and unpatriotic men were rejected by the 
 influence of the wiser and better part — perhaps also 
 frustrated by other means. Henry IV. afterwards 
 complained that the malcontents had nearly ruined
 
 334 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 everything by their perversity and had only been 
 prevented doing so by the traitors among them who 
 accepted his bribes or sought his favour. " How 
 often," he concluded, " when I saw you so opposed 
 to my wishes, have I exclaimed to myself, O that 
 my people would have hearkened unto me ! For if 
 Israel had walked in my ways, I should soon have 
 put down their enemies and turned my hand against 
 their adversaries." 
 
 To mitigate the impatience of the Protestants, 
 commissioners were appointed to treat with them 
 touching the satisfaction of their demands. These 
 commissioners were men of known impartiality and 
 moderation. The historian, De Thou, President of 
 the Parliament of Paris, and Gaspard de Schomberg, 
 Count of Nanteuil, a German by birth but no rela- 
 tion of the Schomberg whose death at Ivry has been 
 mentioned, or of that French marshal and English 
 duke of the same name who fell leading his men 
 to victory across the Boyne. 
 
 In addition to the liberty of conscience and tolera- 
 tion of their worship promised by previous edicts, 
 the Protestants demanded : (i) that they should 
 retain — at any rate for a considerable time — their 
 places of surety ; (2) that no one should be in- 
 capacitated by his religion for public office; (3) that 
 all cases in which Protestants were concerned should 
 be tried by courts composed of judges of both 
 creeds {Chambres vii-partics). The negotiations 
 continued during the siege of Amiens and to the end 
 of the year (1597). 
 
 The King did not grant the demands of the
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 335 
 
 Protestants till he had not only settled the terms of 
 the peace with Spain and stamped out the last 
 embers of the civil war, but had also dispersed the 
 Protestant levies which Mornay and De Thou had 
 vainly urged the Dukes of Bouillon and Thouars to 
 lead to his assistance before Amiens ; until, in short, 
 he was suf^ciently powerful to settle the question 
 on his own terms. That he was able to give the 
 Huguenots so much, is the best proof that he might 
 have compelled them to accept infinitely less. If 
 then the terms of the Edict of Nantes were fair and 
 equitable ; if in it the principle *of religious tolera- 
 tion was for the first time distinctly recognised and 
 practically applied in the legislation of a great coun- 
 try, it is to Henry of Bourbon that the credit is due. 
 An American historian of the Huguenots, no lenient 
 critic of Henry's policy and character, allows that he 
 from the first contemplated some such settlement, 
 and that no one probably was better pleased than 
 he when that settlement could finally be accom- 
 plished. We may then conclude that it was not the 
 fault of the King, if the satisfaction of the claims of 
 the Protestants was delayed ; neither can it reason- 
 ably be denied, that that satisfaction when made 
 was as ample and complete as the circumstances 
 permitted. 
 
 Henry IV., in the preamble to the Edict of Nantes 
 (Apriii5, 1598), expresses his gratitude to God for 
 having inspired him with courage and strength to 
 struggle against the fearful disorders and troubles 
 which he found at his accession. But ai! things 
 could not^be done at once Therefore he had
 
 ^^6 Henry of Navarre. Li 595- 
 
 chosen to remedy first those evils which could only 
 be dealt with by force of arms; postponing other 
 reforms till these ci\nl broils should be ended. For 
 the fury of arms scarce allowed the establishment 
 of laws. " But now that it has pleased God to 
 grant us the enjoyment of some quiet, we think that 
 we cannot better use this tranquillity, than by en- 
 abling all our subjects to worship His Holy Name; 
 and, if it has not pleased him to permit, that this 
 should as yet be done in one form of religion, by 
 providing that it be at least done with one and the 
 same intention, and with such order that there 
 arise not hence any trouble or tumult." He has, 
 therefore, determined to give to his subjects on this 
 matter a general, clear, definite and absolute law in 
 a perpetual and irrevocable edict, and he prays the 
 Divine Mercy to convince them that the chief 
 security for their union and peace, and for the re- 
 establishment of the State in its former lustre de- 
 pends on the faithful observance of this ordinance. 
 
 It was no doubt with the intention of disarming 
 opposition and allaying the alarm likely to be felt 
 by the Catholics, that the first provision of the 
 edict was in their favour. The King had already 
 (December 6, 1597) engaged to leave the Protestants 
 in possession of the towns they occupied for eight 
 years and to pay their garrisons. The edict ensured 
 to the Catholics the free celebration of their worship 
 and the undisturbed possession of their churches in 
 these towns as well as in Beam and in the domains 
 of the Huguenot nobles. 
 
 The members of the so-called Reformed Church
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 337 
 
 were to have full licence to settle wherever they 
 pleased in the kingdom, without being called upon 
 to do anything against their conscience. Protestant 
 worship was to be permitted in all towns where it 
 had been allowed by the edict of 1577, or in which 
 it had been held in 1596 and 1597, and also in one 
 town in each bailiwick, or sc'n^chaiissee, as well as in 
 the fiefs of the nobles of the religion. 
 
 The Protestants were to be freely received into, 
 and to enjoy the benefits of, all colleges, schools 
 and hospitals, to be allowed to found colleges and 
 schools, and to print religious books in all towns 
 where their public worship was sanctioned. They 
 were to be capable of holding all offices in all 
 places, notwithstanding any provisions to the con- 
 trary in treaties made by the King with Catholic 
 towns and princes. In all places, portions of the 
 churchyards, or cemeteries of their own, should be 
 assigned to them. No minors should on any pre- 
 text of religion be removed from the guardianship 
 of their parents, whose provisions by will for the 
 religious instruction of their children must be re- 
 spected and enforced by the courts. 
 
 The ministers of the Protestant Church were to 
 be exempted from all obligation to military and 
 other service inconsistent with their sacred func- 
 tions, and the King undertook to contribute an 
 annual sum towards their support. On the other 
 hand, the dissidents were to pay tithe and to respect 
 the holidays of the Church and not to contract mar- 
 riages within the prohibited degrees. 
 
 A " Chamber of the Edict," consisting of magis-
 
 338 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 trates of approved moderation, one at least of whom 
 was a Protestant, was to be established in the Par- 
 liament of Paris, and in those of Rouen and Rennes, 
 to take cognisance of cases in which Protestants 
 were concerned. Three courts, at Castres, Bordeaux 
 and Gap, composed of an equal number of Roman- 
 ist and Huguenot judges {Chambres mi-parties), were 
 to exercise a similar jurisdiction in southern France. 
 The political provincial councils of the Huguenots 
 were to be dissolved, and they were forbidden to 
 raise any common funds, or to form any confedera- 
 tion or league within or without the kingdom, unless 
 permitted by the King. 
 
 Such were the most important provisions of the 
 Edict of Nantes, which, if it only secured toleration 
 to the Calvinist Church, at least placed its members 
 on a footing of complete civil equality with their 
 orthodox countrymen. But what especially distin- 
 guishes this from any previous edict favourable to 
 the new religion, is that the King, who granted it, 
 was determined that it should be no dead letter, but 
 as strictly observed as any other fundamental law of 
 the kingdom. 
 
 The Huguenots were not entirely satisfied, al- 
 though the wiser part agreed with Mornay that the 
 King showed both wisdom and resolution and had 
 secured terms for them as favourable as they could 
 reasonably expect. The clergy and the lawyers vied 
 in the loudness of their protests and in the virulence 
 of their opposition. For nearly a year the Parlia- 
 ment of Paris resisted the repeated commands of the 
 King that they should register the edict. For many
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 339 
 
 reasons he was unwilling to compel them to do so 
 by the public exercise of his sovereign authority, 
 and instead of holding a " Bed of Justice," he sum- 
 moned the members to attend him at the Louvre. 
 They found him in his private apartments and were 
 welcomed by a speech, in which an inflexible deter- 
 mination to be obeyed was no way concealed by the 
 tone of humour that tempered his reproofs. 
 
 " Before speaking to you about that for which I 
 summoned you, I will tell you a story of which I 
 was just reminding the Marshal de la Chatre. Soon 
 after the day of St. Bartholomew, four of us playing 
 at dice, saw drops of blood appear on the table ; and 
 as they reappeared a third time after being twice 
 wiped away, I refused to continue the game, and 
 said it was an evil sign to those who had been guilty 
 of so great bloodshed. M. de Guise was of the 
 party." Then after reminding his audience that 
 blood called for blood, the King continued : " You 
 see me in my cabinet, where I have come to speak 
 to you, not in royal robes, nor with sword and man- 
 tle like my predecessors, nor like a Prince giving 
 audience to ambassadors, but in the guise of a father 
 about to talk familiarly with his children ; what I 
 want to say is this, that I pray you to verify the 
 edict which I have granted to those of the Religion. 
 What I have done is for the sake of peace. I have 
 made peace abroad ; I wish to establish it within my 
 kingdom. You should obey me, since I am your 
 King, because of the obligations under which my 
 subjects and especially you of my Parliament are to 
 me. I restored some of you to your houses from
 
 340 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 which you were exiles ; to others I restored the 
 religion you had lost. ... I know well that 
 there are intrigues among you ; that seditious 
 preachers have been put forward. This was the way 
 taken to the barricades and which led by degrees to 
 the assassination of the late King. I shall be on my 
 guard against all that. I shall cut off the roots of 
 all faction and of all seditious preaching, by causing 
 those to be cut short by the head who incite to 
 them. I have overlept the walls of towns. I shall 
 easily leap over a barricade. Do not make the Cath- 
 olic religion your pretext. I love it more than you 
 do. I am a better Catholic than you ; I am the 
 eldest son of the Church, which none of you are or 
 can be. You deceive yourselves if you think that 
 you are the Pope's friends. I am more his friend 
 than you. When I choose I will have you all de- 
 clared heretics for not obeying me. . . . Do 
 what you will I shall know what each of you says. 
 I know everything that happens in your houses, 
 all you do, all you say. I keep a little familiar who 
 reveals these things to me. . . . Those who 
 desire to obstruct my edict wish for war. Very well. 
 I will declare it to-morrow against those of the Re- 
 ligion, but I will not fight — no, you shall all go to 
 the war in your robes and you will be like the pro- 
 cessions of Friars with their muskets and frocks at 
 the time of the League. I am now King and speak 
 as your King. I will be obeyed. It is true that the 
 Judges are my right arm, but if the right arm is 
 gangrened and corrupt, the left must hew it off. . . 
 The last word I shall say to you is just this : Follow
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 341 
 
 the example of M. de Mayenne. An attempt was 
 made to induce liim to join in some intrigue against 
 me. He replied that he, hke my other subjects, had 
 too much cause to be grateful to me ; and that he 
 for one would always risk his life to do me a service, 
 because, he added, I had saved France in spite of 
 those who sought to trouble her, while he himself 
 in the past had done what in him lay to ruin the 
 Commonwealth. . . . This is what the Head of 
 the League said. . . . Grant to my prayers what 
 you might have refused to my threats. . . . Do 
 quickly, I pray you, what I ask, and not for my sake 
 only, but also for your own and for that of peace." 
 The deputations sent by the Parliaments of Bor- 
 deaux and Toulouse to protest against the too favour- 
 able terms granted to the heretics, were given not 
 less plainly to understand that the King meant to be 
 obeyed. The magistrates of Toulouse had excelled 
 in fanaticism and faction and in addressing them 
 Henry assumed a tone of angry expostulation. " It 
 was strange that they could not cast off their per- 
 versity. It was plain the Spaniard still stuck in their 
 belly. Who could believe that those who have 
 risked life, goods, rank and position for the defence 
 and preservation of the kingdom are to be held un- 
 worthy of honour and public office, are to be hunted 
 and driven out of the country as traitors, while those 
 who have striven with all their might and main to 
 destroy this State are to be reputed good Frenchmen 
 capable and worthy of office ? I am not blind, I can 
 see clearly ; I choose that those of the Religion shall 
 live in peace and be capable of holding ofifice, not
 
 34^ Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 because they are of the ReHgion, but because they 
 have served me and the Crown of France faithfully. 
 I must insist upon being obeyed. It is time that we 
 all, having had our fill of war, should learn wisdom 
 by what we have suffered." 
 
 Henry IV. proved his sincerity by continuing up 
 to the end of his life to watch over the interests of 
 his former co-religionists. 
 
 Nothing had been more strenuously insisted upon 
 by the Catholics or more carefully provided, not only 
 by the terms of the treaty between the King and his 
 Capital, but also by a provision in the edict itself, 
 than that Protestant worship should not be publicly 
 held in Paris or within a distance of five leagues 
 from the walls. Yet in 1606 the King, moved by 
 the hardships endured in winter by the Huguenots, 
 and especially by the sickness and mortality which 
 exposure, during a journey of thirty miles, caused 
 among the children, authorised them to build a 
 " temple " at Charenton, barely five miles from Paris. 
 Avast building capable of holding 14,000 worship- 
 pers soon arose, although the Catholics protested 
 against the King's arbitrary violation of his own 
 edicts and engagements. 
 
 The rays of the royal favour fell perhaps most 
 warmly on those who did not shame their master's 
 compliance by constancy to their creed ; yet during 
 the twelve years which separated the promulgation of 
 the Edict of Nantes from the King's death, the Re- 
 formers enjoyed greater peace and prosperity than 
 at any other time before 1789. "Our churches," 
 wrote Du Plessis-Mornay, " enjoy, by the grace of
 
 15981 The Edict of Nantes. 343 
 
 God and under the blessing of the King's edicts, a 
 condition they are not disposed to change. The 
 Gospel is freely preached, and not without making 
 some way. Justice is dispensed to us, we have 
 towns in which we can take shelter from the storm. 
 If any infraction of the law occurs, our complaints 
 are listened to and reparation is usually made. We 
 might wish that in many localities our places of wor- 
 ship were nearer and more convenient, that we had 
 a greater share in the distribution of honours and 
 offices. . . . But these are things to be desired, 
 not to be exacted." 
 
 So long as Henry lived, the law was observed, and 
 the Protestants had little reason for complaint ; nor 
 is it easy to see how he could have secured them 
 against the evils to which they were afterwards ex- 
 posed. After the promulgation of his edict, the 
 King wished the national synod, the supreme 
 authority of the Calvinist Church in spiritual mat- 
 ters, to elect the two deputies who were to attend 
 the court as agents of the churches and defenders 
 of their interests, but he eventually permitted the 
 meeting for this and other purposes of the political 
 assemblies, so that at his death both the ecclesiasti- 
 cal and temporal organisation of the Huguenots 
 remained unimpaired, and knitted them into a com- 
 pact and formidable body. They held seventy-five 
 fortresses, some, such as Saumur, St. Jean d'Angely, 
 Embrun, La Rochelle, Nimes, Montauban, of great 
 importance, and among these seventy-five were not 
 reckoned the towns and castles belonging to the 
 domains of the great Protestant nobles.
 
 344 Henry of Navarre. [1595- 
 
 Yet the Huguenots were but a small minority of 
 the nation. At the end of the sixteenth century 
 there would seem to have been about 800 Protestant 
 congregations ; these for the most part were confined 
 to Languedoc, Poitou, Guienne, Provence and Dau- 
 phin^. In Normandy there were about sixty 
 churches ; very few in the remaining provinces. 
 The Protestants were at the very outside some 
 1,250,000 souls — men, women and children, not 
 more than a twelfth, and probably less than a 
 fifteenth part of the population of France. It is 
 indeed true that these were the very flower of the 
 people ; the most intelligent and industrious artisans, 
 the most enterprising as well as the most thrifty an(/ 
 diligent tradespeople, the most educated and public 
 spirited of the gentry and the most enlightenet' 
 among the members of the learned profession. It i( 
 true also that the democratic organisation of theii 
 community, the temporal and spiritual affairs of 
 which were administered by popular and represen- 
 tative bodies, taught them those manly and self- 
 reliant virtues which are 'believed to be the best 
 fruits of popular institutions, and gave them inter- 
 ests extending beyond the narrow sphere of private 
 selfishness. 
 
 On the other hand not only were they a minority, 
 they were also an unpopular minority. The odium 
 of the excesses committed by both sides during the 
 civil wars fell upon them, just as the French people 
 hated the English, after the Hundred Years' War, 
 for all they had suffered at the hands of ruffians and 
 brigands of every nationality. Even the purity of
 
 1598] The Edict of Nantes. 345 
 
 their morals made them hateful at a time of gross 
 and general licentiousness ; who were they that they 
 should affect to be better than other people? . Their 
 success in trade, due, like that of the Quakers, as 
 much to the help, which members of their commu- 
 nity were ready to give to each other, as to their 
 industry and probity, excited the rancorous envy of 
 their competitors among the Catholic middle classes. 
 The lawyers disliked their independence. Even 
 those magistrates who, in other matters, opposed the 
 Jesuits and Rome, sought to prove their orthodoxy 
 by denying justice whenever it was possible to the 
 Huguenots. These dissenters with their privileges 
 were an anomaly which marred the uniformity of the 
 fair edifice of centralised government and law. The 
 prejudices and fanaticism of the populace were artful- 
 ly aggravated by the professed enemies of the Reform- 
 ers, Jesuits and others. Hence riots, which were made 
 a pretext for inveighing against those, who suffered 
 by them, as a danger to the public peace. Their 
 funerals were so constantly disturbed by the mob, 
 that they were obliged to bury their dead by night. 
 Therefore they were called Parpaillots, night moths, 
 creatures who shunned the wholesome daylight. 
 
 When, therefore, the loss of their King and pro- 
 tector left the Protestants exposed on all sides to 
 the attacks of their enemies, the necessity of self- 
 preservation compelled them to draw even more 
 closely together, to become to some extent what 
 their enemies reproached them with being, imperium 
 in impcrio, a separate community in the State. If 
 the Government was hostile to them, even if it was
 
 34^ Henry of Navarre. fi598 
 
 neutral, and did not protect them against their ad- 
 versaries, then they must either make shift to protect 
 themselves or seek protection elsewhere. If they 
 attempted the first, they were accused of arming 
 against their country, if the second, they incurred 
 the charge of allowing themselves to be made the 
 tools of the enemies of France. Yet during the 
 troubled regency of Mary de' Medici, amid the con- 
 flict of selfish factions and contemptible ambitions, 
 although many Protestant nobles, Bouillons, Lesdi- 
 guieres, and even Chatillons, were as false to their 
 country as to their cause, the conduct of the Hugue- 
 nots as a whole was marked by a loyalty, patriotism 
 and forbearance, which, had they existed to the 
 same extent among other classes, might have sparec' 
 France long years of suffering and civil strife.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE REORGANISATION OF THE MONARCHY. 
 
 1598-161O. 
 
 iFTER peace had been restored and the 
 religious difficulty compromised, the 
 most pressing need of the Govern- 
 ment was to find some escape from 
 the terrible financial embarrassment, 
 due as much to extravagance, malad- 
 ministration and dishonesty as to thirty-five years of 
 civil and foreign war. Henry IV. was fortunate in 
 having by his side the right man for the task, and 
 he showed himself worthy of such good fortune 
 by giving to that man full confidence and constant 
 support. 
 
 The merit of Rosny lay, not in the possession of 
 creative genius, but in an exceptional talent for ad- 
 ministration and organisation ; in an ink?orn hatred of 
 extravagance and disorder. His reforms were in no 
 sense revolutionary ; and consisted for tl^ most part 
 in introducing a careful and orderly collection of the 
 revenue ; in abolishing abuses not a necessary part 
 of the e.xisting system ; in establishing, wherever he 
 
 347
 
 34^ Hmry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 was able, a rigid economy ; in restoring and fostering 
 those sources of national wealth which had been 
 choked or neglected during a generation of mis- 
 government and anarchy. He was laborious, clear- 
 headed, endowed with indomitable energy. When 
 conscious of the King's approval and support, his 
 unbounded self-esteem and self-confidence made him 
 as careless of giving offence to the most powerful 
 noble as to the humblest officer of the revenue. 
 " He treats all alike, worthy or unworthy, good and 
 bad, deserving or undeserving, great and small ; re- 
 ceives, or rather scorns, all with the same scowling 
 face," wrote Casaubon to Scaliger. But this chur- 
 lish and disobliging temper was of real service to the 
 State, when it was necessary to disregard so many 
 vested interests in fraud and robbery. 
 
 Rosny was one of the committee of the council 
 to whom the King entrusted the management of the 
 finances, after the death of Francis D'O. His zeal, 
 his determination to inquire into everything, above 
 all his honesty, were insupportable to his colleagues. 
 Finding himself thwarted at every turn by their 
 ill-will, he withdrew from the board to be sent back 
 with enlarged powers and promises of support. For 
 the King was convinced of the dishonesty of his op- 
 ponents and influenced in his favour by Gabrielle 
 d'Estrees, who had been courted by Rosny and who 
 was eager to avenge on his rival Sancy the ridicule 
 he had thrown on her ambitious hope of sharing her 
 lover's throne. Rosny's energy supplied the money 
 which made it possible to retake Amiens and re- 
 lieved the King's most pressing needs, by compelling 
 the farmers of the taxes and other harpies to dis-
 
 1610] Reorganisatio7i of the Monarchy. 349 
 
 gorge some part of their ill-gotten gains. His 
 colleagues on the treasury board either yielded to his 
 ascendancy or withdrew. 
 
 Each year he received increased marks of royal 
 confidence and favour. He was appointed Con- 
 troller of the Canals and Rivers of France (1597), of 
 the Highways and Ports — grand voyer, — and Grand 
 Master of the Ordnance (1599), Superintendent of 
 the King's Fortifications and Buildings (1602), Grand 
 Master of the Ports and Harbours, Duke of Sully 
 and Peer of France (1606). Although de facto 
 Minister of Finance from 1597,110 only received in 
 1 60 1 the ofificial title and rank — Suri7itendant des 
 Finances. He was also Governor of the Bastille, of 
 Mantes, of Poitou. He managed his own exchequer 
 not less skilfully than that of the State, and, al- 
 though he kept the promise made to his master not 
 to seek to enrich himself by underhand means, his 
 income, 200,000 livres, equalled that of the 
 wealthiest princes, and he had amassed valuables 
 worth 2,000,000 livres. 
 
 The state of the French exchequer, when it was 
 taken in hand by Rosny, might well have daunted 
 the most intrepid financier. The public liabilities 
 amounted to some 350,000,000 livres, of which one 
 third was floating debt.* The causes of the financial 
 confusion and distress were many and deep-seated. 
 The right of levying some taxes had been assigned 
 as security to the native and foreign creditors of the 
 Crown. These taxes had generally been alienated 
 at a valuation far below their real worth. The pro- 
 
 * The intrinsic value of the " livre ' was al this time about 2 fr. 50c., 
 the relative value perhaps three or four times as great.
 
 350 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 ceeds, for instance, of a tax which produced 150,000 
 Hvres were assigned to the Duke of Montmorency 
 as the equivalent of a pension of 27,000 livres ; the 
 difference represents the profit of the pubhcan who 
 farmed the tax. 
 
 As the creditors of the Government had often to 
 wait long for their money, priority of payment de- 
 pending on favour and bribery, those who had 
 dealings with the State insured themselves by ex- 
 orbitant charges against the risk of delay or 
 default, and often sold their claims at a heavy dis- 
 count to courtiers or placemen, who used their 
 influence or official authority to obtain for themselves 
 prompt and full payment. 
 
 The public accounts were so ill kept and carelessly 
 audited that the Controller of the Exchequer could 
 appropriate twenty per cent, of the sums which passed 
 through his hands without fear of detection. At 
 the time of the siege of Amiens, Rosny knew that 
 of 500,000 crowns which he had paid into the treasury 
 200,000 must be remaining, since he had kept a 
 careful account of the expenditure to which the 
 money had been appropriated and could produce 
 the receipts given him for his payments. Ignorant 
 of this the Controller boldly asserted that the 
 balance in his hands only amounted to 90,000 
 crowns. Rosny produced documentary proof that 
 it must be 1 10,000 more. The Controller was com- 
 pelled to disgorge, but neither punished nor even 
 dismissed for his attempted fraud. 
 
 The taxes were farmed, not to the highest bidder, 
 but as a matter of favour; the members of the
 
 1610] Reorga7iisatio7i of the Monarchy. 351 
 
 council, the King's favourites, or even the Minister 
 of Finance himself stipulating for a share in the 
 profits of the publican or becoming his partner. 
 The Surinte7idant D'O had a share in the farm of the 
 salt tax. The Government paid exorbitantly for 
 everything, not only because of the uncertainty of 
 payment, but also owing to the dishonesty of its 
 agents, who imitated the unjust steward in the para- 
 ble, " take thy pen and write so much more,'' but 
 unlike him did not wait for a consideration till dis- 
 missed. Another evil was the inordinate number of 
 ofificials of every kind. 
 
 Nor among the causes of public distress must we 
 forget the ruinous and oppressive nature of many of 
 the taxes, which became the more economically dis- 
 astrous as the capacity of the country to bear the 
 load of taxation diminished. Commerce and manu- 
 factures totally ceased in many districts. Not only 
 were all ways of communication insecure, but the 
 very roads themselves had ceased to exist. It was 
 no uncommon thing for the inhabitants of a town 
 to be suffering the extremity of famine, while a few 
 leagues away the crops were rotting in the fields for 
 want of a market. The population was decreasing; 
 the land was going out of cultivation, partly owing 
 to the devastation of the country and the destruc- 
 tion of villages and towns by hostile armies, or by 
 bands of brigands and of desperate peasants, who, 
 robbed of all else, still found arms wherewith to rob 
 their neighbours ; partly because of the excessive 
 tallage, just as in Egypt, before the English occupa- 
 tion, and in other Eastern countries, the peasantry
 
 352 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 have not unfrequently abandoned their fields be- 
 cause the land tax has not left them a share of the 
 produce sufificient to support life. 
 
 While taxation pressed more and more heavily on 
 the poor, those who were best able to pay eluded 
 their part of the public burdens. This they effected 
 sometimes by claiming exemption, either as " noble " 
 because they had borne arms in the King's service, 
 or because they had acquired some small oflfice, 
 sometimes by bribery and corruption. The e'lus, who 
 determined the quota of tallage to be paid by each 
 parish, were no longer elected as their name implied, 
 but petty officials, for the most part venal like their 
 betters. The assents or assessors, who fixed the 
 share of each individual, were not more incorruptible. 
 
 To reform, root and branch, the evils and abuses 
 under which the country was perishing would have 
 required a treatment perhaps more drastic than the 
 condition of the commonwealth permitted, fevered 
 and exhausted as it was by civil war and with 
 wounds still too raw to be firmly handled. More- 
 over, as we have said, the temperament and talents 
 of Rosny were those rather of an administrator 
 than of a reformer. The services which he ren- 
 dered to his country were so opportune as to be of 
 inestimable value, yet what he effected was very 
 simple. He introduced an orderly and business-like 
 method of keeping the public accounts ; prevented 
 peculation ; and caused the taxes to be levied in a 
 manner as economical to the Government, as little 
 oppressive to the public, as was possible without a 
 complete change in the existing system. At the
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 353 
 
 same time, supported, or rather urged on, by the 
 King, he did much by the wise encouragement of 
 productive enterprise to assist the wonderful recu- 
 perative power which France has always shown dur- 
 ing her short periods of respite from foreign war or 
 domestic disorder. 
 
 Rosny, grand voyer de France, was zealous in re- 
 pairing and improving old means of communication 
 and in creating new ones. The roads were soon in 
 better condition than at any previous period since 
 the time when they had echoed to the tramp of 
 Roman legions. Long avenues of trees were 
 planted to give shade and coolness to the wayfarers. 
 The navigation of the rivers was improved. A com- 
 prehensive plan for uniting the Seine, Loire, Saone 
 and Meuse, by canals, so as to establish a waterway 
 connecting the Mediterranean, the Bay of Biscay, 
 the Channel and the North Sea, was approved by 
 the King. A canal was begun in 1604 from the 
 Loire to the Loing, a tributary of the Seine, as a 
 first step towards the realisation of this scheme. 
 
 Internal trade was restored by security and im- 
 proved means of communication. The abolition of 
 export duties on corn and wine threw foreign mar- 
 kets open to the agriculturist. 
 
 Sully well deserved the commendation of orthodox 
 economists by his clear perception of the truth which 
 is the foundation of the doctrine of free trade. **As 
 there are divers climates, regions and countries, so it 
 has pleased God to make them suited to, and fertile 
 in, divers products, materials, industries and arts 
 which are not common to other places, or there at
 
 354 Henry of Navarre. fi598 
 
 any rate not equally profitable. So that by traffic 
 and commerce in those things in which some coun- 
 tries abound, while others are wanting in them, in- 
 tercourse to their mutual profit may be kept up 
 between nations however distant." 
 
 He saw that as both parties to an act of barter 
 must obtain something more useful to them than 
 that with which they part, so no trade can be carried 
 on between two countries which is not more or less 
 to the advantage of both. He believed that nature 
 had meant France to be a pastoral and agricultural 
 country ; that this was the most profitable employ- 
 ment of her labour and capital ; and he objected to 
 the attempt to foster arts and manufactures arti- 
 ficially, both because it might divert the productive 
 energies of the countr}' to less profitable uses, and 
 because he believed that the sedentary and indoors 
 life of large classes would be physically injurious to 
 the nation. 
 
 Such considerations led Sully to regard with little 
 favour his master's desire to encourage the introduc- 
 tion of new manufactures and to naturalise the pro- 
 duction of strange commodities. Henry, on the 
 other hand, believed that the ever increasing number 
 of the unemployed in the large towns was a constant 
 danger to public peace. In one single quarter of Paris 
 there were, in 1596, 7,769 paupers. He was con- 
 vinced " that the development of manufactures and 
 industries offered the best security against civil broils 
 and disorders." The protectionist may perhaps find 
 some comfort in the success of that part of the King's 
 commercial policy which offended the precocious 
 economic orthodoxy of his minister.
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 355 
 
 Although the silkworm had been long introduced 
 into France, by far the greater part of the silk stuffs, 
 then so largely used, was imported from Italy. So 
 also were the brocades and the cloth of gold and 
 silver, to the purchase of which a considerable part 
 of the revenue of the upper classes was devoted at a 
 time when a man of fashion often wore the value of 
 his estate upon his back. No doubt it would have 
 been better had the wealth thus wasted been used in 
 improving the land of the gentry, and in the employ- 
 ment of productive labourers ; thus increasing their 
 wages and enabling them to create a new market for 
 native produce, by the purchase of those necessaries 
 which they were now unable to procure. And this 
 Sully would have attempted to effect by sumptuary 
 enactments. Indeed the insolent luxury and taste- 
 less profusion of the publicans and usurers, parasites, 
 who had taken advantage of the weakness of the 
 body politic to settle upon it and to suck its blood, 
 their tarts flavoured with ambergris, their hangings 
 of cloth of gold and fountains of costly perfumes, 
 their studs and harems, might well seem to deserve 
 the lash of the law. But sumptuary restrictions have 
 rarely produced the intended result, and the protec- 
 tive legislation by which Henry IV. fostered the 
 growth of manufactures to satisfy the wants of 
 luxury and ostentation was so far successful that, in 
 foreign markets as well as at home, the silks of Lyons 
 and Tours, the cloth of gold of Paris, the tapestry 
 of Gobelins, soon successfully competed with the pro- 
 duce of the towns of Italy and Flanders. Thus, not 
 only was domestic luxury made the means of finding 
 employment for the urban population, but France
 
 35^ H&my of Navarre. ii598- 
 
 obtained in exchange for the produce of labour, 
 which would not otherwise have been employed, 
 foreign commodities of more general utility. 
 
 More useful manufactures were not neglected. 
 Although fine cloth was still woven at Rouen, the 
 supply of coarser stuffs was practically a monopoly 
 in the hands of the English, who sold it on their own 
 terms to the French consumers. 
 
 Henry IV. encouraged the clothiers of Provins 
 and Paris by advances of money, by concessions and 
 privileges, to betake themselves again to their looms. 
 Stringent regulations against fraud and careless 
 workmanship protected the consumer and restored 
 the reputation of native fabrics. 
 
 Sully was not more anxious to encourage maritime 
 than manufacturing enterprise. He even opposed a 
 measure imposing on foreign vessels when they en- 
 tered French ports the same dues which were paid 
 by French ships in the harbours of the country to 
 which they belonged. He discouraged his master's 
 desire to compete with Spain and England in the 
 colonisation of the New World, — false, in this as in 
 other things, to the tradition of his faith, — for, like 
 the Puritans, the Huguenots had more than once in- 
 stinctively turned to the great continent beyond the 
 Western Ocean. Fortunately the King was in these 
 matters both wiser than his minister and determined 
 to have his own way. Commercial treaties which 
 placed the countries on a footing of equality were 
 concluded with Spain (1604) and with England 
 (1606). 
 
 The Spaniards were compelled to withdraw a
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 357 
 
 differential duty of 30 per cent, levied on all goods 
 coming from France, which, by provoking a like 
 taxation of Spanish imports into France, had caused 
 all trade between the two countries to pass into the 
 hands of foreigners. The good effects of the King's 
 policy were soon felt. The export trade of raw 
 produce — corn, cattle and wine — as well as of manu- 
 factured goods vastly increased. Nowhere more so 
 than in the Mediterranean. The traditional friend- 
 ship between the Most Christian King and the 
 Sublime Porte gave the French merchants great 
 advantages in the Levant. 
 
 The Venetian ambassador describes Marseilles as 
 the emporium of Europe, and the successful rival of 
 his own town. Three hundred ships of large ton- 
 nage lay in her land-locked harbour. The annual 
 profits of her merchants were believed to amount to 
 a sum equivalent to over ^^7,000,000 — no doubt a 
 gross exaggeration. 
 
 No sooner was Henry IV. in peaceable possession 
 of the throne, than he sent a Breton gentleman as 
 his Lieutenant-Governor to " New France," as all 
 America between latitude 40° and 52° was then 
 called. The Lieutenant-General and his intending 
 colonists were wrecked, and it was not till 1604 that 
 a serious and successful attempt to found a colony 
 in the New World was made by a company of 
 merchants and gentlemen, to whom the King granted 
 a monopoly of the fur trade. De Monts, the chair- 
 man of the company, Vice-Admiral and Lieutenant- 
 General of the King, left Havre accompanied by 
 Champlain, a gentleman of Saintongc, and in 1605
 
 358 Henry of Navarre. ri598 
 
 occupied the peninsula of Acadia. In 1608 Cham- 
 plain sailed up the St. Lawrence. It was not till after 
 the King's death that he discovered the vast inland 
 seas, the sources of that mighty river which bears 
 the largest ships to the foot of the precipitous rock 
 on which, four hundred miles from the ocean, he 
 founded Quebec, the future capital of Canada ; yet 
 the credit of having initiated the most successful 
 attempt hitherto made, to find a home for the 
 French race beyond the limits of old Gaul, belongs 
 to Henry IV. 
 
 Sully and his master were heartily at one in pro- 
 moting all plans for encouraging and improving 
 agriculture. The King, says Scaliger, was capable 
 of everything except keeping his gravity, or reading 
 a book ; yet he at least turned over the leaves of 
 the treatise on husbandry, written by Olivier de 
 Serres, whom Arthur Young styles the Father of 
 French Agriculture. Every day for the greater part 
 of a year the book was brought to him after dinner, 
 and he studied it for half an hour with apparent 
 interest. Engineers were brought from the Low 
 Countries to drain the marshes. The reckless de- 
 struction and waste of the forests was checked and 
 new timber planted. 
 
 In 1598 Rosny travelled through the country, in- 
 quiring into the condition of the people, their 
 sufferings and most pressing wants. The result was 
 that in 1600 an important ordinance was published. 
 By this all arrears of tallage due for years prior to 
 1597 were remitted, and the amount annually pay- 
 able reduced by about 1,800,000 livres. Any fraud
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 359 
 
 or partiality in the assessment of the tallage was to 
 be henceforth severely punished, and any taxpayer 
 was enabled to bring corrupt or unfair assessors to 
 justice by a summary and inexpensive procedure. 
 An earlier edict had annulled all exemptions from 
 taxation granted during the last twenty years. It 
 was now enacted that the mere fact of serving in the 
 King's army did not constitute a claim to exemp- 
 tion ; that none not born of noble parents in legiti- 
 mate wedlock should presume to style themselves 
 esquire or noble. 
 
 The salt tax or gabelle was even more vexatious 
 and oppressive than the tallage. It combined every 
 one of those characteristics which, according to 
 Adam Smith, are the mark of a bad tax. It was 
 arbitrary, inconvenient, unequal, costly to levy and 
 more profitable to those who farmed it than to the 
 royal exchequer. 
 
 Sully would have liked to make the sale of salt a 
 Government monopoly throughout the kingdom — 
 leaving every individual free to buy as much or as 
 little as he chose. But this would have injured too 
 many interests — and every " interest " can bring 
 pressure to bear on an administration except the 
 general interest of the community. He was there- 
 fore obliged to content himself with remedying the 
 abuses of the existing system. Above all he warned 
 the royal officers not to punish the poor too severely 
 if they evaded taking their full quota, or even for 
 having smuggled salt in their possession. To sel) 
 and to buy contraband goods were, he pointed out, 
 offences of very different gravity. He reminded the
 
 360 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 magistrates that in judging between the publicans, 
 who farmed the revenue, and the taxpayers, they 
 must not imagine that the interests of the former 
 were the same as' those of the State. They should 
 recollect that it was the King whom they injured 
 when they ruined his poor subjects by grievous fines 
 and penalties. 
 
 Much was gained by checking the extortions of 
 the tax-gatherers and by compelling all who were 
 liable to contribute their fair share of taxation, while 
 a few years of peace, order and decent government 
 so restored the vigour of the commonwealth that it 
 could have borne with comparative ease a burden as 
 heavy as that which before had crushed it to the 
 ground. But thanks to the skilful management of 
 Rosny the load to be endured was actually lighter. 
 
 He began his reforms by introducing some order 
 into the system of accounts. He assigned certain 
 sources of revenue to defray the necessary expendi- 
 ture, and devoted whatever remained over to meet 
 the charges of the public debt.. Undeterred by re- 
 spect for persons he vigorously attacked the dishonest 
 practices of the financiers, publicans and tax-gath- 
 erers, who cheated the exchequer and oppressed the. 
 people. 
 
 A " Chainbre Royale'' composed of magistrates of 
 high position and character was appointed. Sully 
 hoped that this court would punish these harpies 
 and confiscate the ill-gotten wealth which enabled 
 them to set the fashion and ruin the nobility who 
 attempted to vie with them in ostentatious profusion. 
 But, so the minister laments in his memoirs, the
 
 16101 Reorganisation of the Mo?iarcky. 361 
 
 bolder brigands escaped by bribery and intrigues, 
 the lesser fry, " petty pickers and pilferers," paid for 
 their own misdeeds and for those of the stouter 
 thieves. The King himself was loath to deal hardly 
 with men in whose houses he could throw aside 
 restraint and ceremonial and find the most costly 
 instruments of luxurious and too often vicious indul- 
 gence eagerly offered by hosts who were proud to 
 be the submissive ministers of his pleasures. 
 
 Yet if the past could not be amended, the future 
 might be improved. Henceforth the farm of the 
 various taxes was put up to public auction and al- 
 lotted to the highest bidder, instead of being sold as 
 a matter of favour at a low price. In this way and 
 by redeeming those taxes which had been assigned 
 as security for their interest to public creditors 
 1,800,000 livres were annually saved. 
 4 The abolition of numerous useless ofifices and 
 sinecures, although a breach of public faith, since 
 these had, for the most part, been bought with ready 
 money, was a measure which both benefited the 
 revenue and relieved the public from the vexatious 
 interference of men who sought to obtain an equiva- 
 lent for what they had paid by extortion, or by the 
 pleasure of indulging in the insolence of ofifice. 
 
 The custom of entrusting important public func- 
 tions to those who could pay for the privilege of 
 exercising them had long prevailed in France. The 
 sale of judicial offices had survived the protests of 
 generations of reformers and the promises of succes- 
 sive kings. The judges had acquired a prescriptive 
 right to sell that which they had bought, and to re-
 
 362 Henry of Navarre. 11598 
 
 sign their office in favour of a son or other competent 
 person, provided that they survived the transaction 
 for forty days. If they died before this period 
 elapsed or before resignation, the patronage lapsed 
 to the Crown. 
 
 Sully proposed that the hereditary tenure of their 
 offices should be granted to all functionaries of the 
 courts of law and exchequer, on condition of the 
 annual payment of a sixtieth part of their estimated 
 revenue. The treasury by this gained each year a 
 large sum, and any system, even a bad one, was better 
 than the previous confusion. The judges themselves 
 were at first highly averse to an arrangement which 
 touched their pockets and appeared to impair their 
 dignity, for this yearly payment was likened to a 
 tallage. 
 
 The measure had wider consequences than were 
 foreseen, either by those who promoted or opposed 
 it. Not only were the magistrates relieved from the 
 necessity of courting the favour of princes and no- 
 bles, they were also made less dependent on the 
 Crown itself. The dignified integrity and impar- 
 tiality of the French judges during the following 
 century contrasts very favourably with the servility 
 of the English Bench to the Stuart kings. In theory 
 nothing could be more difficult to justify than that 
 functions which require high intellectual and moral 
 qualifications should first be sold to the highest bid- 
 der and then be transmitted by the accident of 
 birth. But, as is often the case, what is indefensible 
 in theory worked well enough in practice. There 
 seems to exist in certain offices a traditional spirit
 
 1610' ReorganisatioTi of the Mo7iarchy. 363 
 
 which shapes the character and conduct of those 
 who hold them, and such an influence is naturally 
 intensified if those offices are hereditary. The high- 
 est places in the French magistracy were already to 
 a great extent held by the members of a few fami- 
 lies, closely connected by descent and marriage ; and 
 these families were for the most part raised by re- 
 finement of life and culture, by decency and gravity 
 of manners above the roystering swashbucklers and 
 frivolous nobles who affected to despise them. The 
 keen sense of professional honour, the learning, the 
 integrity which became hereditary in such families 
 as those of De Thou and Arnauld, of Seguier and 
 Harlay and Mole, not only supplied the Bench with 
 independent and capable magistrates but gave to 
 the noblesse de robe a consideration and an influence 
 which made it an equipoise to the feudal nobility. 
 
 It is impossible within the limits of this book to 
 attempt more than briefly to indicate some of the 
 most salient points of Sully's administration. A few 
 figures may best enable us to appreciate his success. 
 
 In 1598 the public debt amounted to about 
 348,500,000 livres — the revenue to about 30,000,000. 
 Before 1609 he had liquidated over 100,000,000 
 livres of debt ; reduced the yearly interest on what 
 remained by some 5,000,000; redeemed no small 
 part of the alienated royal domain; collected a treas- 
 ure of 20,000,000 livres ; and raised the revenue to 
 39,000,000, while reducing the tallage by about 
 2,000,000. And he obtained this result while amply 
 providing for the requirements of the public services 
 and for the personal expenditure of the King.
 
 364 Henry of Navarre. [1598 
 
 -i Not only, as we have already seen, were roads and 
 canals constructed, harbours and bridges restored, 
 the navigation of rivers improved, marshes drained 
 and all useful enterprises encouraged by subsidies 
 and bounties, but the army also was reorganised, 
 the arsenals filled with military supplies and with an 
 artillery more powerful and better equipped than 
 any which had as yet been seen. In the short war 
 of 1600 against the Duke of Savoy, the army was 
 accompanied by a field train of 40 guns, each requir- 
 ing 47 horses : a battery which excited the marvel of 
 contemporaries. 
 
 ^ The fortresses were put into thorough repair and 
 strengthened under the direction of a Lotharingian 
 engineer, Errard, as great a master in his art as the 
 better known Vauban. He introduced the use of 
 the glacis and perfected the system of angular forti- 
 fications, with a double line of defence. First the 
 ramparts with their cavaliers and bastions protected 
 by a wide ditch, the soil excavated from which was 
 used for the glacis, then an outer ring of redoubts, 
 ravelins and trenches. 
 
 The strength of the French armies had hitherto 
 consisted in a numerous and valiant but ill-disci- 
 plined cavalry, composed almost entirely of the 
 feudal levies, whom it was not easy to collect, still 
 more dif^cult to prevent from disbanding if the 
 campaign was protracted or unsuccessful, and impos- 
 sible to keep together after victory. The infantry 
 consisted mainly of foreign mercenaries, well armed 
 indeed and well drilled, but not over trustworthy, 
 addicted to plunder, costly to maintain and muti-
 
 1610J Reorganisatio7i of the Monarchy. 365 
 
 nous when their pay was in arrear. In short the 
 French army was partly feudal, partly foreign, a 
 grievous burden to the country, yet wanting the co- 
 hesion and discipline necessary to make it an efificient 
 instrument of scientific strategy. Men fought, it 
 was said, in France, but war was only waged in the 
 Low Countries. To lead his nobles in a dashing 
 cavalry charge had been Henry's glory ; yet his first 
 care was the reorganisation of the French infantry. 
 By treating this as the most important part of his 
 army, he changed the character of that army. It 
 had been feudal and mercenary, it became popular 
 and national. This policy accorded with the tradi- 
 tions of the party he had once led. Coligny and his 
 brother Andelot, successively Colonels-General of 
 the French foot, had attempted to improve the 
 organisation and to raise the importance of that arm. 
 Large sums were spent on buildings of public 
 utility and on the improvement of the towns, espe- 
 cially of Paris. Under the Valois, Paris appeared a 
 mean and dirty town to travellers acquainted with 
 the cheerful magnificence of Italian cities, although 
 it contained some fine buildings, such as the reli- 
 gious houses in their vast enclosures, and the 
 " hotels " built in the style of the French Renais- 
 sance, by great nobles or wealthy financiers. Four 
 hundred thousand inhabitants lived in narrow, 
 crooked and filthy lanes, ill paved, and of course un- 
 drained. The stories of the lofty houses, built of 
 lath and plaster, projected on each side till they 
 almost met and excluded light and air from above, 
 while booths and sheds encroached on the narrow
 
 366 Henry of Navarre. '1598 
 
 space below. In the summer, carpenters, cart- 
 wrights, workers in brass, dealers in every kind of 
 commodity plied 'their trades in the streets, while 
 the wares of tanners, dyers and cleaners flapped in 
 the fetid air, frightening the horses and threatening 
 ruin to the finery of the courtier or country 
 gentleman threading his way from his lodgings to 
 attend the King's levee at the Louvre. As 
 in the East, a crowd of half-starved dogs disputed 
 the possession of the offal in the gutters with kites 
 and crows. At night, bravos and cut-purses plied 
 their trades, parties of young courtiers and nobles 
 rose from a debauch to charge each other or the 
 watch, to insult the women and beat the unoffending 
 citizens. It was in vain that directly an alarm was 
 raised all citizens were commanded to ring a bell and 
 to rush out into the street lantern in hand to join in 
 the hue and cry ; and that, to make the escape more 
 difificult, houses were not allow^ed to have a back 
 door. It was a rare exception for offenders against 
 the public peace to be brought to justice. 
 
 The bridges across the Seine were either of wood 
 or encumbered by houses like old London Bridge or 
 the Florentine Ponte Vecchio. The river was only 
 partially confined by quays, which made it the more 
 apt to overflow in other places, and frequent floods 
 added to the squalid discomfort of the lower parts 
 of the town. 
 
 Had he lived longer Henry IV. would have created 
 a new Paris ; as it was he did more than any previous 
 king to improve and change the aspect of his Capital. 
 The citizens were forbidden to encroach upon or
 
 16101 Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 367 
 
 obstruct the streets, many of which were widened 
 and rna<lc more regular. Henceforth no houses 
 were to be built with overhanging stories. The 
 pavement was improved, and although the habit of 
 emptying noisome water from the windows of the 
 upper stories into the streets continued till this cen- 
 tury to expose those who passed by to the danger 
 of a foul shower-bath, attempts were made to pre- 
 vent accumulations of filth and refuse in streets and 
 public places. Numerous fountains supplied abun- 
 dant and tolerably pure water. For the mis-called 
 sanitary arrangements of modern times did not as 
 yet pollute springs and river. 
 
 Since the death of Henry 11. the old Palace of 
 the Tournelles surrounded by spacious gardens had 
 been abandoned to decay. On this site Henry laid 
 out the Place Royal surrounded by excellent stone 
 houses, built partly by himself, partly by individuals 
 to whom the land was sold at a nominal price on 
 condition of their following the plans of the royal 
 architects. His letters-patent declare that he in- 
 tended the wide open space not only to be used for 
 tournaments and other martial exercises but more 
 especially to be a recreation ground for the inhabi- 
 tants of the crowded suburb of St. Antoine. 
 
 Quays were erected to raise the banks of the river 
 and to prevent floods. The Pont Neuf was completed 
 and connected the Place Dauphine, the centre of 
 the trade of Paris, with the Rue Dauphine, which 
 extended in a straight line, and with a breadth of 
 thirty-six feet from the riverside to the Porte de 
 Bussy.
 
 368 Henry of Navarre. 11598 
 
 Although Henry did all this and a great deal 
 more for the benefit of the public, the greater part 
 of 8,000,000 livres spent on building was devoted to 
 increasing the magnificence and convenience of his 
 own palaces. In the Capital he built the long 
 gallery of the Louvre and began the other construc- 
 tions which were intended to unite that palace to 
 the Tuileries, and which were finally completed by 
 Napoleon III. He doubled by his additions the 
 size of the palace built by Francis I. at Fontaine- 
 bleau, his favourite residence owing to the good 
 sport afforded by the neighbouring forest. 
 
 At St. Germains a magnificent pile was erected on 
 the site of the present terrace ; from the windows 
 of which the King could look over terraced gardens 
 sloping to the river, and ornamented in the Italian 
 style with grottoes and statues, upon the fairest 
 prospect in the valley of the Seine. 
 
 Henry IV. was more successful in improving the 
 material aspect of his Capital than in establishing an 
 efficient police or in checking the general violence of 
 manners. The diarist L'Estoile records that in one 
 month of the year 1606 nineteen murders were com- 
 mitted with perfect immunity in the streets of Paris. 
 He and other contemporary writers frequently com- 
 plain that life and property were safer in a forest 
 glade than in the Capital. ' Thieves found their way 
 into the houses of citizens, and, holding a dagger at 
 their throats, compelled them to surrender their 
 money and valuables. A President of the Parlia- 
 ment, a steward of the Duke of Mayenne and other 
 men of position were thus robbed. The vulgar bul-
 
 {610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 369 
 
 lies who elbowed peaceable wayfarers into the kennel 
 and broiled with each other at every corner, did but 
 imitate the manners of their betters. 
 
 The practice of duelling, so fashionable under the 
 later Valois, became a deadly epidemic when the 
 cessation of the war deprived the gentry of the 
 opportunity of vying in valour and of indulging 
 their taste for violence in legitimate warfare. In 
 twenty years of Henry's reign (i 589-1609) over 
 7,000 pardons were granted to gentlemen who had 
 killed their adversaries in " affairs of honour." In 
 1602 a royal edict threatened all who sent or ac- 
 cepted a challenge, or acted as seconds in a duel, 
 with the penalty of death. But this attempt to 
 check the evil proved utterly futile. Death was too 
 severe a punishment to be inflicted for an offence 
 which the public generally and the King himself re- 
 garded as venial. 
 
 J. A. De Thou tells how at the table of the Prince 
 of Conde, the conversation once turned upon duel- 
 ling. Some of those present defended the practice, 
 whereupon the Prince " with an air of authority 
 becoming his rank " condemned it as absolutely 
 repugnant to God's law. It was, he added, a sin to 
 draw the sword except by order of the sovereign, 
 and for the defence of life and country. Yet he had 
 himself challenged and fought with the Duke of 
 Bouillon, a fact recorded by the latter in his memoirs 
 with much complacency, although in the same 
 breath he warns his sons to be meek and gentle, and 
 careful of giving offence. The King could not per- 
 haps seriously condemn a custom all but unanimously
 
 370 Henry of Navarre. ii598- 
 
 approved by those with whom he lived and which 
 was so consonant to his own character. Yet he 
 might deplore an indulgence in this privilege of 
 gentle birth — for so it was esteemed — so excessive, 
 that France lost every year many hundred brave 
 men. The judges and those who by birth and edu- 
 cation were led to regard the laws of God and man 
 as of not less obligation than a conventional code of 
 honour, were urgent that the King's solemn edict 
 should not be allowed to remain a dead letter. Ac- 
 cordingly, in 1609, "^ ^^^^ ordinance was promulgated, 
 which, as it was less severe than that of 1602, might 
 have proved more efficacious, had not the murder 
 of the King in the following year paralysed all 
 authority. 
 
 It would be absurd to blame Henry IV. for not 
 having created a new heaven and a new earth during 
 twelve years of peace indeed, but of peace disturbed 
 by intrigues and cabals, by the plots of foreign and 
 domestic enemies. Yet it is noticeable that histo- 
 rians have generally exaggerated the well-being of the 
 people during the last years of his reign. So far 
 was the proverbial fowl from being in every pot, that 
 there were still many parts of France where the 
 lower classes scarcely knew what it was to have a 
 full meal, and yet more where the standard of living 
 was so low that a short harvest was followed by 
 famine. But none the less the greatness, the 
 astounding greatness, of the results achieved during 
 so short a period by the King's efforts to restore 
 material order and prosperity to his kingdom cannot 
 be disputed.
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 371 
 
 Henry IV. had an unfeigned desire to improve 
 the condition of his subjects. He beheved their 
 interest and his own to be the same. " He who in- 
 jures my people," he said, " injures me." He had 
 also a true sympathy with the sufferings of the poor 
 and humble, and he took some pains to discover 
 what they were and how they might be relieved. 
 
 When travelling through the country he would 
 constantly stop to speak with those whom he met 
 on the road, asking them whence they came and 
 whither, the nature and price of the wares they car- 
 ried, the profits of their trade and other details of 
 their daily life. Other princes, he said, think scorn 
 to know the value of a ducat ; I would know the 
 exact worth of a farthing, what it buys, by what 
 labour it is earned. When separated from his 
 attendants in hunting or by any other chance, he 
 would ask the hospitality of the nearest peasant or 
 sit down with the drinking boors in some country 
 inn, freely bandying talk and jest with those he met. 
 He constantly vexed Sully by the demands he made 
 on the treasury to satisfy his mistresses and to pay 
 his gambling debts, yet it pricked his conscience that 
 this self-indulgence should add to the load of taxation 
 which made life harder to the poor. He tried to cheat 
 his remorse by insisting that the 1,200,000 crowns he 
 annually spent should be drawn from that part of the 
 revenue which was not derived from the tallage. 
 
 The popular conception of the Bearnese, that he 
 was untiring in love and war and that he wished 
 every peasant to have a fowl in his Sunday pot, is, 
 so far as it goes, not untrue.
 
 372 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 M. Poirson, the last and most laborious French 
 historian of the reign of Henry IV., has been at 
 pains to show that his hero was not less industrious 
 and successful in promoting the intellectual and 
 moral than the material well-being of his people. 
 But an impartial student can scarcely avoid the 
 conclusion that his efforts in these directions both 
 obtained and deserved far less success. 
 
 The studies of the University of Paris were pe- 
 formed. The task was entrusted to a commission 
 of which such men as De Thou and Harlay were 
 members and was therefore not ill performed. The 
 study of the best classical authorities replaced that 
 of the hand-books and compendiums of the Middle 
 Ages. Perhaps in part, the obscurantists owed their 
 defeat to the fact that they had been the inveterate 
 political enemies of the King. The prince of six- 
 teenth century scholarship, the " phoenix of learning," 
 Joseph Scaliger, had been permitted or rather en- 
 couraged by Henry IV. to leave France and settle 
 at Leyden, but the scarcely less erudite Casaubon 
 was summoned from Montpellier to Paris. Casau- 
 bon's gentle disposition, his moderation and the 
 pressure of a rapidly growing family encouraged 
 Du Perron and others about the King to hope that 
 he might be persuaded to conform. The proud in- 
 dependence of the descendant of the lords of Ve- 
 rona — or as his enemies called it his extravagant 
 self-conceit — was known to be intractable. 
 
 The care of the public library, formed by uniting 
 the books of Francis I. and Catherine de' Medici, 
 was entrusted to Casaubon and attempts were made
 
 16101 Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 2)']'^ 
 
 to induce Hugo Grotius and Justus Lipsius to re- 
 store by the lustre of their names the supremacy of 
 European learning to the University of Paris.. New 
 endowments encouraged the study of anatomy and 
 other kindred subjects, which were recommended by 
 their practical utility to the King's philistine com- 
 mon-sense. The Huguenots in the midst of a strug- 
 gle for life or death found means and leisure to 
 establish schools and colleges. The children of even 
 the poorest of the Religion had the opportunity of 
 a decent education. But although Queen Jane of 
 Navarre had specially distinguished herself by her 
 zeal in providing for the instruction of youth in her 
 hereditary dominions, her son made no attempt to 
 raise the intellectual condition of the mass of his 
 subjects. Even the reform of the University of 
 Paris may have been due rather to a wish to intro- 
 duce into that body a more loyal and less fanatical 
 spirit, than to any true sympathy with erudition and 
 culture. 
 
 Henry's former tutor, Florent Chrestien, wrote to 
 Scaliger that though the Princes of France excel all 
 others in war and deeds of arms, learning must look 
 elsewhere for patronage and encouragement. 
 
 The last Valois kings had shown a real interest 
 in learning and culture ; Henry IV. was a soldier, a 
 sportsman, a practical statesman — but incapable of, 
 any sedentary occupation. Even his business was 
 generally transacted walking up and down in his 
 gardens or in the galleries of his palaces, or between 
 the burnished rows of cannon in the Arsenal. The 
 grandson of Margaret of Angouleme had literary
 
 374 Henry of Navarre. ii598- 
 
 instincts, ff)r in their way his letters are models of 
 style, but he had none of the tastes of a scholar and 
 no sympathy w itii scholarship. Classical studies 
 were therefore not fashionable at his Court. During 
 the previous reigns it was not only grave ambassa- 
 dors like Paul de Foix, who carried with them a 
 travelling library which was unpacked for their use 
 and that of their attendants at each resting-place, 
 men of pleasure like Bussy d'Amboise affected even 
 if they did not possess a taste for reading, and pro- 
 fessional soldiers like the gallant Givry and St. Luc, 
 who was killed while commanding the artillery dur- 
 ing the siege of Amiens, were serious students of 
 antiquity. Among the Huguenots the best learn- 
 ing of the age was even more widely diffused ; Du 
 Plessis-Mornay and La Noue were but perfected 
 types of the accomplished Protestant gentlemen. 
 Great nobles like La Rochefoucauld, Count of 
 Roucy, were proud of their skill in writing Latin 
 verses. After the accession of Henry IV. there is a 
 great change in the attitude of the fashionable world 
 to letters. The younger Biron, when some discus- 
 sion arose on an antiquarian question, showed by 
 his remarks that he possessed considerable classical 
 knowledge, but he did so as if ashamed, and fearful 
 lest he should seem to know more than was consist- 
 ent with the character of a soldier and a man of 
 fashion ; a generation earlier he would have ostenta- 
 tiously paraded his knowledge. Lesdiguieres, per- 
 haps the most able of Henry's generals, had been 
 trained to the law and was a fair scholar, but he was 
 sneered at by some, as if learning and valour were
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 375 
 
 incompatible. A scarcely less significant symptom 
 of the change in feeling was the King's boast, that 
 he could transact the most difificult business with 
 the help of his Chancellor who knew no Latin and 
 of his Constable who could barely read or write. 
 
 The King, who wished to decorate his new palaces 
 with statues and frescoes, was a more liberal patron 
 of sculptors and painters than of scholars. He paid 
 pensions to promising students whom he sent to 
 pursue their studies at Rome, directing his ambas- 
 sador to watch over them with the care of a father. 
 Some came back imitators at second or third hand 
 of the Caracci ; others learnt to combine the exag- 
 gerated action and defective composition of John of 
 Bologna with the affectation and want of dignity 
 which had begun to be the besetting faults of French 
 sculpture. 
 
 France was exhausted by half a century of civil 
 discord in which both parties had seen their hopes 
 cheated and had come to suspect that the ideals they 
 had cherished were unattainable. The nation was 
 absorbed in the effort to repair the ruins of the 
 material fabric of society, and had little energy to 
 spare for artistic and literary creation. The poet, 
 says the Roman Satirist, who is to sing of the loftiest 
 themes must be free from the sordid cares of daily 
 life. Disappointed aspirations, weariness of past 
 struggles, fear of future disorders, inspired even the 
 better citizens with a preference for all that appeared 
 practical, approved of by sound common-sense, 
 orderly and well established, with a distrust of every- 
 thing that was vague, unsubstantial and Utopian.
 
 "^"jd Henry of Navarre. ri598- 
 
 In the many this temper produced an eagerness to 
 enjoy common and material pleasures. 
 
 When the Duke of Bouillon, writing for the 
 edification of his children, contrasts the corruption 
 around him with that virtuous Court of Catherine 
 de' Medici, in which his boyhood had been trained, 
 we smile to see the former lover of Margaret of 
 Valois praising past times and affecting in his old 
 age to inculcate austerity of morals. Yet there is 
 abundant evidence that under Henry IV. the French 
 Court was no school of virtue ; and that preachers 
 and moralists complained not without reason that 
 the sensuality of the upper and middle classes had 
 never been so gross and unrestrained. The Court 
 of the Valois had excelled in perverse and morbid 
 depravity, but the restoration of public tranquillity 
 under Henry IV. appears to have been followed by 
 a widespread indulgence in coarse vice, and selfish 
 profusion which can scarcely be paralleled, except 
 possibly by what was afterwards seen at Paris under 
 somewhat similar conditions during the Directory. 
 The disappointed renunciation of ideal aims, ab- 
 sorption in material cares, eager pursuit of animal 
 pleasures, whether they be sought in the innocent 
 gratifications of a respectable citizen, meat and drink, 
 a warm roof and a comfortable bed, or in the more 
 guilty satisfaction of sensual lusts, are scarcely com- 
 patible with literary or artistic excellence. Yet, 
 although the reign of Henry IV. produced no writer 
 of the first rank, it was a most important period, a 
 period of transition in the history of French literii- 
 ture. During the Civil Wars and the years of apathy
 
 1610] Reorganisation of the Monarchy. 377 
 
 which followed, the old school, the school in poetry 
 of Marot, of Ronsard and the Pleiad, in prose of 
 Rabelais and Amyot, of Montaigne and Aubign^ 
 passed gradually away. Men of such second-rate 
 ability as Malherbe and Balzac v/ould not have been 
 able to decide the form assumed by the master- 
 pieces of the next generation, had not circumstances 
 inclined the taste of the times to prefer smoothness 
 to vigour, a carefully chosen to a copious vocabulary, 
 logical lucidity and correctness to variety of con- 
 struction, to a picturesque and pregnant sententious- 
 ness varied by carefully constructed sentences of 
 classical prolixity, which arrest the attention of the 
 reader, even though they may sometimes strain his 
 patience. 
 
 But our space forbids the attempt to sketch even 
 in outline the history of French literature during the 
 reign of Henry IV. Nor would it be a profitable 
 task to enumerate names, even with the addition of 
 a jejune criticism, unsupported by copious quota- 
 tions.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE DIVORCE AND SECOND MARRIAGE OF 
 THE KING. 
 
 1598 — 1601. 
 
 I HE country was at peace and her 
 wounds were slowly healing. But 
 the continuance of tranquillity, .the 
 enjoyment of what had already 
 been secured, the realisation of 
 future hopes, everything depended 
 on the King's life. What if the King had succumbed 
 to an illness, which was believed to have endangered 
 his life in 1598, or if one of the numerous plots to 
 aS'sassinate him in that and the following years had 
 been successful ? The heir to the throne, the Prince of 
 Cond^, was a boy of feeble constitution and character, 
 his birth discredited by rumours based, it would 
 seem, on better evidence than is usually the case with 
 such scandals. Even if his claim to the throne were 
 not challenged, to whom would the Regency be en- 
 trusted ? His mother was a woman of private birth, 
 defamed as an adulteress and who would have been 
 publicly tried as an accomplice in the murder of her 
 
 378
 
 Divorce and Second Marriage. 379 
 
 husband, had she not purchased impunity by aban- 
 doning her reHgion. All therefore who cared 
 anything for the welfare of France were anxious to 
 see Henry the father of legitimate children. 
 
 To this there were two obstacles. In the first 
 place, he already had a wife, but one who could 
 never be the mother of his children, and secondly, 
 as years went by, Gabrielle d'Estrees' influence over 
 him was confirmed by long habit, and his passion 
 for her became more fervent. She had reformed 
 that levity of conduct, which during the earlier part 
 of their connection excited the reproaches of the 
 King and gave a handle to her enemies. Her lover 
 treated her with the consideration due to a lawful 
 wife, and expected others to show her the like 
 respect. He created her Duchess of Beaufort. He 
 legitimised her children. Their baptism was cele- 
 brated with all the ceremonies and pomp reserved 
 for the " Children of France." When absent, he 
 wrote to her daily, and if he was not always faith- 
 ful he at least paid her the compliment of simulating 
 constancy ; decent hypocrisy contrasting favourably 
 with the cynical effrontery which afterwards imposed 
 an odious promiscuity on his lawful wife. 
 
 Meantime Queen Margaret had been living since 
 1587 in the castle of Usson in Auvergne. When, 
 after her quarrel with Henry HI., her position had 
 become not less unpleasant at Nerac or Pau than at 
 Paris, she took refuge at Agen, a town which formed 
 part of her dower. The people of Agen rose against 
 her, and, trying to make her way to Ivoy, a castle 
 belonging to her mother Catherine, she was seized
 
 380 Henry of Navarre. tl598- 
 
 by Canaillac, Governor of Usson, who had been 
 ordered by Henry III. to confine her in that castle, 
 fortified as a State prison by Lewis XI. But al- 
 though Canaillac had passed the middle stage of 
 life, was heavy in bulk and sedate in disposition, he 
 could not resist the fascinations of his captive, and 
 the prisoner became the mistress of the fortress as 
 well as of its Governor. Yet, whatever her position, 
 so long as she remained in a remote valley among 
 the mountains of Auvergne, Margaret could do little 
 harm, and the contemptuous toleration of her hus- 
 band allowed her to live on unmolested at Usson ; 
 " a hermitage," so she said, " miraculously provided 
 to serve her as an ark of safety." There she found 
 solace for her isolation in books and music, as well 
 as in the pleasures of the table and vulgar gallantry : 
 for Margaret combined in a remarkable degree the 
 coarse sensuality and intellectual refinement char- 
 acteristic of the House of Valois, and to some 
 extent also of her Florentine ancestors. 
 
 Du Plessis-Mornay appears to have been the first 
 of Henry's advisers earnestly to press upon him the 
 duty of providing for an undisputed succession 
 (1591), urging him to marry again and to cease im- 
 perilling body, soul and honour in licentious intrigues. 
 *' Why then," said the King, " don't you find me a 
 wife?" "There is a double diflficulty," replied 
 Mornay, " you have to be first unmarried ; but I 
 will see what can be done." Whereupon he went to 
 the legal adviser employed by Queen Margaret to 
 defend her interests at Court, and assured himi that 
 the King had made up his mind. He had many and
 
 MARGARET OF VALOIS.
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 381 
 
 grave reasons which would justify him in treating 
 his wife with severity. It would, therefore, be to 
 the Queen's interest and honour that she should 
 herself ask for a divorce, to relieve her conscience 
 and for the good of the kingdom, on the ground 
 that she had been married without her consent, 
 within the prohibited degrees and without the papal 
 dispensation. Margaret, weary of Usson and of a 
 retirement which did not protect her from the im- 
 portunity of her creditors, consented, and wrote a 
 graceful and grateful letter to Mornay, thanking him 
 for his good service and advice. But for several 
 years matters made little progress. The Queen was 
 very willing to agree to a divorce on the liberal 
 terms proposed by her husband, the payment of her 
 debts, an abundant revenue, permission to live in 
 Paris with the title and precedence of Queen of 
 Navarre and Duchess of Valois. She wrote arain 
 and again to Mornay, urging him to press on the 
 business, and sought to stimulate his zeal by a 
 present of 14,000 livres. But to establish the valid- 
 ity of a subsequent marriage beyond dispute it was 
 necessary that the divorce should be pronounced by 
 a competent and generally recognised tribunal, and 
 as yet the Roman Curia was hostile and not likely to 
 strain a point to oblige the King of France. 
 
 Henry himself, up to 1594, was anxious for a 
 divorce and to find another wife. Then his interest 
 flagged, till he again took the matter up warmly in 
 1598, urging his agents at the Roman Court to 
 press for the Papal sentence annulling his marriage. 
 We may conjecture that his affection for Gabrielle
 
 382 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 d'Estrees was sufficiently strong after the first two 
 or three years of their union to render the idea of 
 marrying any one else distasteful, but that it was 
 not till 1598 that it could outweigh the obvious 
 objections to making her his wife and Queen of 
 France. Unseemly in itself, such a match would 
 have failed to secure that undisputed succession, 
 which was the chief advantage desired by those who 
 begged the King to take to himself another bride. 
 The jarring claims of those children of Henry and 
 Gabrielle, who were born out of- wedlock, and of the 
 legitimate offspring of a subsequent marriage would 
 only have added another element of discord to those 
 already existing. 
 
 The Duchess of Beaufort had endeavoured to 
 secure future support by using her influence to obtain 
 favourable terms for the Dukes of Mayenne and 
 Guise, and by betrothing her eldest son to the 
 heiress of the Mercoeurs. She also courted the favour 
 of the Huguenots. Aubigne tells how on one occasion, 
 when the King had good reason to complain of the 
 factious conduct of some among the Protestant 
 leaders, he came unexpectedly to Court and was well 
 received by Henry, who bade him kiss his mistress, 
 and sending for their little son Caesar from his bed, 
 placed him naked as he was in his old servant's arms, 
 saying that he meant in another year to commit him 
 to his care, in order that he might be educated 
 among those of the Religion and win their affection. 
 
 After the conclusion of peace and when her lover 
 was securely established on the throne Gabrielle per- 
 suaded him to entertain more seriously the thought
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 383 
 
 of their marriage. Whenever Sully's name is men- 
 tioned in his memoirs we must be on our guard 
 against his mendacious self-esteem, and everything 
 he tells us about Gabrielle d'Estr^es is to be received 
 with caution. He hated her, because he believed 
 that but for her he might be the all powerful favour- 
 ite and adviser of his Prince, and his hatred was 
 inflamed by all the rancour which a man morbidly 
 vain and wanting in generosity naturally felt towards 
 one whose favours he had repaid by ingratitude. 
 He also wishes to pose as the author of all good, the 
 opponent of everything injurious to king or kingdom. 
 Therefore he would have us believe, that it was he 
 who brought about the King's divorce, he who dis- 
 suaded his master from marrying Gabrielle. Nay, 
 he apparently wishes to insinuate that he did not 
 shrink from complicity in a plot to murder a woman 
 whose influence might be so fatal to the country. 
 Throughout that prodigious monument of senile 
 garrulity the Econojuies Royales, the ex-minister, 
 to exaggerate his own importance and familiarity 
 with the King, forges and falsifies letters and other 
 documents ; and he is scarcely less anxious to de- 
 preciate the merits and influence of others than he is 
 to exalt his own. The services of Sancy, Villeroy, 
 Jeannin, De Thou, of all the most trusted of the 
 King's advisers are ignored, their errors or failings 
 exaggerated. But the great reputation of Du Plessis- 
 Mornay, his lofty character, his credit with the King, 
 made him the special mark of Sully's envious malig- 
 nity. The most artful malevolence sought in vain to 
 detect a flaw in Mornay's integrity, but the tempta-
 
 384 Henry of Navarre. [1598 
 
 tion to attribute to himself the credit of what Mornay 
 had done was irresistible to Sully. Accordingly we 
 find in the Economies Royalcs a fictitious corre- 
 spondence between Margaret of Valois and M. de 
 Rosny, and an account of the events preceding the 
 death of the Duchess of Beaufort which recent in- 
 vestigations have shown to be little else than a 
 romance. We cannot therefore give full credit to 
 Sully's account of a conversation with the King, 
 towards the end of 1598. Yet we may well believe 
 that some such discussion as that recorded took place, 
 even if Sully exaggerates the freedom with which he 
 spoke to his master. 
 
 The King, he would have us believe, began by 
 saying that his ambassador at Rome and others about 
 the Papal Court assured him that the Pope was anx- 
 ious to serve him in the matter of his divorce, and 
 that therefore he had decided to look about him for 
 a wife, who might bear him an heir and prevent the 
 evils of a disputed succession. He would like " that 
 not impossible she," his future wife, to be beautiful, 
 chaste, amiable, and accommodating in humour, 
 clever, of illustrious birth and great estate ; but he 
 feared such a one was either dead or not yet born. 
 He then enumerated all the marriageable foreign 
 princesses and French girls of high rank, beginning 
 with the Infanta Isabella, whom he said he would 
 take could he obtain the Low Countries with her, but 
 to that her father would never consent ; to all the 
 others he discovered some objection. " A pity," said 
 Sully "that the Queen of England cannot be made 
 young, or Mary of Burgundy or some other great heir-
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 385 
 
 ess of past time resuscitated for you, but since this 
 may hardly be, what if you were to collect all the mar- 
 riageable maidens of your kingdom, select the most 
 pleasing from among them and then try to discover 
 your paragon among the chosen few ? " Henry 
 laughed and allowed that it was absurd to expect 
 perfection, but his bride must possess three essential 
 qualifications: She must have good looks, good 
 temper and be capable of bearing him a son. Sully 
 replied that he did not think that it could be known 
 beforehand of any woman that she would satisfy the 
 King in these particulars, especially in the last. " At 
 any rate," said the king, " I know that my mistress 
 would." 
 
 By the end of 1598 it was generally known that 
 the King intended to marry Madame de Beaufort. 
 Queen Margaret wrote to her : " My desires are in 
 all respects the same as yours and the King's. I 
 speak my mind freely to you, as to one whom I con- 
 sider my sister, and honour and esteem next to the 
 King." As a substantial proof of her good-will she 
 executed a deed conveying her Duchy of Etampes 
 to Gabrielle. 
 
 The approaching elevation of the King's concu- 
 bine to the throne excited general alarm. Not that 
 the Duchess was herself unpopular. Her gentleness, 
 the moderation with which she used her influence, 
 employing it never to injure, and generally only to 
 benefit others, won the affection of those with whom 
 she came in contact ; she had no enemies, says 
 Aubigne, except the necessities of the State. But 
 
 neither her birth nor her previous life fitted her to 
 25
 
 386 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 be the Queen of France ; she had greedy relations, 
 and the dread of a disputed succession haunted all 
 who had a thought for the future of their country. 
 The prospect of so splendid a station disturbed her 
 own cheerful serenity ; she became nervous and 
 full of vague but distressing apprehensions. She may 
 have felt that all had so far gone too smoothly; that 
 fortune under so smiling a face must hide some 
 treacherous intent. It was with tears and dismal 
 forebodings that she left the King at Fontainebleau 
 to spend the Easter of 1599 at Paris. She lodged 
 at the Deanery, but on the evening of April 6th 
 supped at the house of Zamet a rich Italian. This 
 man, the son of a shoemaker of Lucca, and a former 
 valet of Henry III., had enriched himself by usury 
 and speculation. From being the servant he had 
 become the boon companion of princes, who found 
 him a merry and generous host, untroubled by scru- 
 ples or pretensions. Gabrielle accepted an invitation 
 to spend the evening of the 7th at the same house, 
 but was then too unwell to leave her room. On the 
 next day she was much worse and fell into violent 
 convulsions ; on the 9th she was artificially delivered 
 of a dead child ; towards the evening she became 
 unconscious and died the morning after (April loth). 
 There is as little reason to suppose that she was 
 poisoned as that her neck was wrung and her soul 
 carried off by the devil. Both reports were current, 
 but the latter was more generally believed by the 
 populace, to whom it seemed that her great power 
 over the King must be due to some supernatural 
 cause. No contemporary writer acquainted with the
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 387 
 
 Court, except Sully, hints that there was any plot 
 against her life. 
 
 The despair and grief of the King were extreme. 
 Violet, the colour in which the sovereigns of France 
 mourned, was not sombre enough to express his 
 sorrow. He clad himself in black. He received in 
 gloomy state the condolences of his Parliaments and 
 of the ambassadors of foreign powers. No cere- 
 monial was omitted, which would have been due to 
 Gabrielle d'Estrees had she been the crowned con- 
 sort of the King of France. But no courtly observ- 
 ance could do her such honour as the unfeigned tears 
 of the Princess of Orange* and of Catherine of 
 Navarre. The latter, whom her brother, with little 
 regard for her feelings and for her long attachment 
 to the Count of Soissons, had lately married to the 
 Duke of Bar, forgot all unkindness and wrote in 
 words of which we should be sorry to doubt the sin- 
 cerity. " My dear King, I am well aware no words 
 can heal your great grief. I only write these to 
 assure you that I share in it as completely as I needs 
 must, owing to my extreme love for you and to my 
 own loss of so perfect a friend. I much wish I had 
 been with you, to offer you in your affliction all the 
 humble service I owe you. Believe me, my dear 
 King, I shall always act a mother's part by my 
 nephews and nieces. I humbly beg that you will 
 remember that you have promised me my niece. If 
 you will let me have her I will treat her with as 
 much love and care as if she were my own daughter. 
 ... If it pleased God, my King, that I could lighten 
 * The daughter of Coligny and widow of William the Silent.
 
 388 Henry of Navarre. [1598 
 
 your grief by the sacrifice of some years of my life, 
 I would pray with all my heart that it might be so, 
 and upon this truth I kiss you a thousand times, my 
 dear and brave King." Her brother assured her in 
 his reply that her sympathy was a consolation to him 
 in his grievous sorrow, a sorrow as incomparable as 
 the object for whom he mourned. That henceforth 
 regrets and lamentations must accompany him to the 
 tomb. Since God had caused him to be born not 
 for himself, but for his people, all his thoughts and 
 cares should henceforth be devoted to the welfare 
 and preservation of his kingdom. " The root," he 
 concluded, " of my love is dead, and will never put 
 forth another branch." 
 
 If the King expected no more pleasure in life, if 
 henceforth he was determined to live for his country 
 alone, then, as soon as he was released by the Papal 
 sentence from the ties which bound him to Margaret 
 of Valois, there could no longer be any reason to 
 delay his union with a Princess who might bear the 
 longed-for Dauphin. 
 
 The reigning Grand Duke of Tuscany had a niece, 
 the daughter of his brother and predecessor, Francis, 
 and of Jane of Austria daughter of the Emperor 
 Ferdinand. The King's advisers, undeterred by the 
 many ills of which a Florentine marriage had before 
 been the cause, selected this young lady, Mary de' 
 Medici, as, on the whole, the most eligible partner 
 of his throne. The Grand Duke was wealthy and 
 could give his niece a dowry which might extinguish 
 a debt due to him, and leave a useful balance. No 
 sooner was Gabrielle d'Estrees dead than the Flor-
 
 1601] Divorce and Secona Marriage. 3 80 
 
 entine envoy and Villeroy began busily to negotiate 
 the marriage treaty. 
 
 But while his ministers were higgling about the 
 terms on which he should sell his hand, Henry had 
 given away his heart, or what remained of it ; some 
 portion, we should like to believe, and that the 
 better part, rested in Gabrielle's grave. For it was 
 to the fascination she exercised over the baser parts 
 of his nature, his senses and his fancy, that his next 
 mistress owed her fatal power. 
 
 After spending two months at Fontainebleau, 
 where everything reminded him of his loss, he deter- 
 mined to seek distraction in a visit to the cheerful 
 banks of the Loire. On the road to Blois lay Male- 
 sherbes, a castle of Francis de Balzac, lord of En- 
 tragues and Governor of Orleans, a man of tarnished 
 reputation, but of good family and the husband of 
 Marie Touchet, formerly mistress of Charles IX., 
 and the mother of a royal bastard, Charles of Valois, 
 Count of Angouleme, to whom the old Queen 
 Catherine, passing over her daughter Margaret, had 
 left her county of Auvergne. Among three children 
 born by Marie Touchet to her husband, was a 
 daughter Henriette, not surpassingly beautiful, for 
 her nose was not above reproach, her lips were thin 
 and when in repose ill-tempered, and there was 
 more intelligence than charm in her high and well- 
 formed forehead, yet marvellously fascinating by 
 her grace, her vivacity, and her ready wit. 
 
 Few who were dazzled by her bright eyes and 
 mobile smile could pause to note and criticise the 
 defects of so brilliant a creature. Henry, when in
 
 390 Henry of Navarre. [1598 
 
 the first week of June he came to Malesherbes, only 
 intended a stay of a few days to be spent hunting 
 in the woods which fringe the narrow valley of the 
 Essonne. Before twenty-four hours were over the 
 disconsolate and elderly mourner was himself in the 
 toils of this Delilah of eighteen ; the end of July 
 found him still lingering at her feet, and when he 
 left it was to follow^ his new flame and her mother to 
 Paris. 
 
 The room which Henry occupied during his long 
 and frequent visits to Malesherbes still exists, hung 
 with the same old tapestry, on which the eyes of the 
 King must often have rested, the vision of Ezekiel, 
 and below a quaint legend : 
 
 Mort, feinnie et temps, tout soit viel et antique 
 Mondaine amour et chastete pudique 
 Tout prendra fin. 
 
 It may happen that a mourner is attracted by a 
 resemblance in character or outward presentment to 
 what is no more, so striking and close that the new 
 passion is in some sort to be excused as but the con- 
 tinuation of the old. But it must have been because 
 nothing in Henriette d' Entragues could remind him 
 of what he had lost in Gabrielle, that the King was 
 so easily fascinated by her. No comparison was 
 challenged, in which his judgment might have been 
 biassed by tender regret. Gabrielle's regular features, 
 her soft and alluring beauty were in keeping with a 
 gentle and placid disposition. She had played the 
 part of a mistress with the modest dignity of an 
 honourable woman. Henriette had been carefully
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 391 
 
 brought up by her mother, who, it was told, had 
 stabbed with her own hand a page presumptuous 
 enough to make love to her daughter; yet, though 
 an inexperienced girl of barely eighteen, she had all 
 the arts and tricks and depraved instincts of a cour- 
 tesan, eager to profit by the passions she inspired 
 without sharing. Her somewhat swarthy and viva- 
 cious features, her expressive eyes sometimes melt- 
 ing, oftener cold and imperious, her nervous mouth, 
 her slim and active shape, were well in keeping with 
 her restless and unscrupulous ambition, her malicious 
 and cynical wit. 
 
 Since the King had been willing to marry the 
 Duchess of Beaufort, there appeared to Henriette 
 and her family to be no reason why, if they played 
 their cards well, she should not be Queen. On 
 public grounds there would be less to urge against 
 such a match ; no question could be raised as to the 
 legitimacy of her children. Mademoiselle d'Entra- 
 gues therefore did her best to inflame the King's 
 passion. She herself would not bargain with her 
 sovereign. She was his to command, and she grate- 
 fully received his gifts ; rich jewels and a princely 
 fortune. But her father's sense of honour was so 
 nice that he could bear no blot on his scutcheon, and 
 she was carefully watched by her mother. At length 
 early in October, the King placed in her hands the 
 following amazing document : " We, Henry by the 
 Grace of God, King of France and Navarre, promise 
 and swear before God and by our faith and kingly 
 word to Monsieur Francois de Balzac, Sieur d'En- 
 tragues, etc., etc., that he, giving us to be our consort
 
 392 Henry of Navarre. [1598- 
 
 {pour compagne) demoiselle Henriette Catharine de 
 Balzac, his daughter, provided that within six months 
 from the present day she become pregnant and bear 
 a son, then and forthwith we will take her to wife 
 and publicly marry her in face of our Holy Church," 
 etc. After this D'Entragues no longer refused to 
 close his eyes to his daughter's dishonour. The 
 negotiations with the Grand Duke of Tuscany were 
 proceeding apace ; it was also known that the King 
 had been able to find consolation in other quarters. 
 The young lady and her friends shrank from the risk 
 of further delay. They no doubt hoped that her 
 more intimate relations with the King would give 
 Henriette not less influence over him than had been 
 exercised by her predecessor. In November (1599), 
 Henriette d'Entragues was publicly installed as 
 reigning favourite in a house sumptuously furnished 
 for her; such a bird, said Henry, deserved a fine 
 cage. 
 
 In the early summer of 1600 the room of the Mar- 
 chioness of Verneuil — so she was now styled — was 
 struck by lightning, and the premature birth of a 
 dead child relieved the King from his conditional 
 promise. Had Henriette borne him a living son the 
 situation would have been awkward, for already in 
 the previous March the French plenipotentiaries had 
 signed their master's marriage contract with Mary 
 of Medici. The marriage itself was celebrated by 
 proxy at Florence on the 3d of October. On the 
 17th, escorted by a Tuscan and Papal fleet, the new 
 Queen of France sailed from Leghorn. Neptune, 
 says Malherbe, anxious to contemplate her charms
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 393 
 
 as long as possible, showed his gallantry by so buf- 
 feting her splendid galley, inlaid without with ivory, 
 mother of pearl and lapis lazuli, and hung within 
 with cloth of gold and silk brocade, that it was 
 obliged to seek shelter in Porto Finale on the Ligu- 
 rian coast. It was not till November 3d that she 
 reached Marseilles, whence she proceeded by easy 
 stages to Lyons. There she was received with much 
 joy by the citizens, among whom were many of her 
 own countrymen. In that town, the emporium of 
 all trade between France and Italy, the natives of 
 Florence, Genoa and Lucca had churches and even 
 streets of their own. In the church of the Celes- 
 tines was the magnificent tomb of the Pazzi, the 
 exiled enemies of the house of Medici. This the 
 paltry spite of the new Queen of France condescended 
 to mutilate. Such a proof of a rancorous and un- 
 generous disposition was well calculated to alarm and 
 disgust her husband, so magnanimous in his treat- 
 ment of opponents whether alive or dead, and who 
 used to say that of all faults vindictiveness appeared 
 to him the most unpardonable. 
 
 Henry had been actively engaged in a little war 
 against Savoy, and this had been his excuse for not 
 receiving his bride when she landed in France. He 
 had soothed her disappointment by letters couched 
 in his most amorous vein. Such descriptions of her 
 had reached him that he loved her, he said, not as a 
 husband ought to love his wife, but as a passionate 
 lover adores his mistress. He w^as suffering from a 
 fever, but the sight of her would cure him. All this 
 time, when he was not with Henriette, and he had
 
 394 Henry of Navarre. 11598- 
 
 sent for her to Dauphiny, he was writing to her " his 
 sweetheart, his very own " in terms of more heartfelt 
 tenderness. The King joined his wife a day or two 
 after her arrival at Lyons, where the Cardinal Legate 
 gave the nuptial benediction in great pomp to the 
 newly wedded pair. 
 
 Henry professed to be much pleased with the per- 
 son and the gentle and submissive manners of his 
 wife. Mary of Medici, though twenty years younger 
 than her husband, was no longer a girl, and a full and 
 rather heavy figure made her look older than her 
 age, twenty-six. She had pretty hair, a good com- 
 plexion, fine arms and a white skin, which she dis- 
 played liberally, but her forehead was heavy, her 
 nose coarse, her mouth sensual, her flat bold eyes 
 wanting in expression. Even when compared with 
 the crowd of full-blown Flemish nymphs who sur- 
 round her in the allegorical compositions of Rubens, 
 she appears wanting in grace and distinction. The 
 Queen looked good-natured, and was not unwilling 
 to please her husband, but from the first he was 
 plagued by the pretensions and quarrels of her Italian 
 followers. Two of these were destined to exercise 
 a fatal influence on the fortunes of their mistress 
 and of France. Leonora Dosi or Galigai had been 
 brought up with Mary of Medici as a humble play- 
 fellow and companion, a black-eyed swarthy little 
 creature like a gipsy changeling, full of malice and 
 ambition, whose restless energy had won a complete 
 ascendancy over her phlegmatic mistress. The 
 knowledge of her power over the Queen induced a 
 certain Concini, a younger son of good family — his
 
 MARY OF MEDICI. 
 From the painting by F. F >rbus in Prado Museum in Madrid
 
 1601] Divorce and Second Marriage. 395 
 
 father had been the Grand Duke's minister, — who 
 hoped to find his fortune in France, to pay Leonora 
 some court. He was only too successful. Her 
 ardent passion scorned all disguise. Their amorous 
 dalliance in the Queen's room and presence provoked 
 malicious comment, and Mary of Medici, not ill-dis- 
 posed to the handsome gallant on her own account, 
 was induced by her confidante to treat him with an 
 indulgence compromising to both mistress and maid. 
 The Galigai was not loved and Concini was detested 
 by the Italians about the Queen. Henry therefore 
 had abundant warning that they were ambitious and 
 dangerous intriguers. He refused to listen to his 
 wife's entreaties that Leonora should be appointed 
 her Bedchamber woman. The proposal was, he said, 
 preposterous ; the place was one which had always 
 been held by a lady of quality. If Leonora and 
 Concini would marry he would gladly find a dowry, 
 but on condition that they returned to Florence, — a 
 suggestion received by Mary of Medici with sullen 
 obstinacy. The thought of parting with Leonora 
 was unendurable, and Concini grew daily in favour. 
 Eventually Leonora obtained the desired appoint- 
 ment, but through the intervention of Henriette 
 d'Entragues with whom she formed a temporary al- 
 liance — a result well calculated to increase the re- 
 sentment of the Queen, who saw her husband grant 
 to the suggestion of his mistress what he had refused 
 to the prayers of his wife. 
 
 On the 20th of January, 1600, peace was con- 
 cluded with Savoy. The King declared that his 
 presence was needed in the North, but that the
 
 396 Henry of Navarre. [1598 
 
 health of the Queen must not be endangered by a 
 hurried journey in an exceptionally cold winter. 
 Leaving her therefore to follow by slow stages, he 
 rode post to Fontainebleau, to throw himself into 
 the arms of Madame de Vcrncuil. 
 
 Two or three weeks later the Queen reached Paris, 
 On the very evening of her arrival Henry per- 
 suaded the Duchess of Nemours to introduce 
 Henriette to his wife. As she came forward he 
 explained who she was, " This young lady is my 
 mistress, she will be your very obedient and humble 
 servant." As a scanty courtesy appeared to hold 
 out little prospect of the fulfilment of this promise, 
 he placed his hand on Henriette's head and bent it 
 down till she had kissed the hem of the Queen's 
 dress. 
 
 He must be allowed to have so contrived the intro- 
 duction of the rivals as to exasperate to the utmost 
 the tempers of both women. The ideal of married 
 life which he appears to have formed was such as 
 might have occurred to an amiable Turk emanci- 
 pated from the jealous prejudices of the East. A 
 Sultana to be the mother of his heir, and a reigning 
 favourite chosen from among a bevy of women, — to 
 one or another of whom the royal handkerchief 
 might from time to time be thrown, — were to show 
 their gratitude for the good-humoured indulgence 
 with which he was prepared to treat them, by living 
 amiably and cheerfully together. To realise such a 
 dream of domestic felicity would nowhere be easy, 
 but the attempt could hardly have been made under 
 conditions more adverse than those against which
 
 16011 Divorce and Second Marriage. 397 
 
 Henry IV. had to struggle : his wife, disposed to 
 jealousy, ruled by unscrupulous favourites, alter- 
 nately passionate and sullenly obstinate ; his mistress 
 a very demon of malice, with a cold heart and a hot 
 head ; both eagerly watched by those who sought 
 to use their ambition and their mutual hatred to 
 annoy the King and perplex his policy. 
 
 A letter of the Duchess of Thouars has preserved 
 a vivid picture of the royal household. She found, 
 she says, the King and Queen walking up and down 
 together, while Mademoiselle de Guise — who, it was 
 whispered, since she could not be Queen, would have 
 been satisfied to be reigning mistress — sat embroider- 
 ing strips of canvas. Madame de Verneuil came 
 into the room at her pleasure and though the Queen 
 flushed with anger, began to talk to her, or flouted 
 and jeered at the King. The Court was full of 
 jealousies and quarrels and not much frequented by 
 people of quality. The Queen was on bad terms 
 with Madame de Guercheville (a lady of character 
 and the first in position of her French attendants) 
 and the King with Signora Leonora. 
 
 Matters were scarcely improved by the birth of 
 the longed-for heir — Sept. 27, 1601. Henry indeed 
 was delighted and characteristically wrote to Madame 
 de Verneuil, expatiating on the beauty of her rival's 
 baby. There is a touching simplicity in his apparent 
 confidence that she would sympathise with his pride 
 and delight in the child. 
 
 Henriette herself gave birth to a boy a month 
 later, and in the pride of her motherhood scoffed 
 at the banker's fat daughter, who had indeed got a
 
 !98 
 
 Henry of Navarre. 
 
 [1601 
 
 son, but not the Dauphin, for the King was her 
 husband, she had his written promise, and it was she 
 who held the Dauphin in her arms ; he at any rate, 
 she added, should not go to St. Germains to be 
 brought up with the royal bastards.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WAR WITH SAVOY — SPANISH INTRIGUES — CON- 
 SPIRACIES OF BIRON AND OF THE ENTRAGUES. 
 
 1599-1609. 
 
 |HE Peace of Vervins had not decided 
 whether or how the Marquisate of 
 Saluzzo, occupied by the Duke of Sa- 
 voy during the civil troubles in France, 
 should be restored. In the winter 
 of 1599, Charles Emmanuel came 
 himself to the French Court, trusting by means of 
 400,000 crowns, which he brought with him, to secure 
 such support among the King's advisers, that he 
 would be allowed to keep his acquisition on easy 
 terms. He was indignant that his father-in-law, 
 Philip II., passing over the Duchess of Savoy, should 
 have bestowed the Netherlands on her younger sister 
 Isabella, and offered, if well treated by Henry IV., 
 to help him, when the time came, to attack the 
 House of Austria in Italy and Germany. But the 
 French Government persisted in demanding the im- 
 mediate cession of the Marquisate or of an equivalent. 
 Since the Duke, on futile pretexts, delayed to 
 accept either the one or the other alternative 
 
 399
 
 400 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 war was declared against Savoy (August, i6oo). 
 When operations commenced the season was late 
 and the snow already deep on the mountains. The 
 Duke was assisted by 4,000 Swiss sent by the Spanish 
 Governor of Milan and by the ill-will of Biron the 
 principal French general, yet such was the energy of 
 Lesdiguieres and of the King, so effective the new 
 organisation of the army, that before the end of the 
 year Charles Emmanuel was suing for peace and had 
 reason to esteem himself fortunate that he was able 
 to persuade the King to accept an indemnity of 
 800,000 crowns with the county of Bresse and other 
 lordships on the western side of the Alps, forming 
 the modern department of the Ain. Fort St. Cathe- 
 rine, built by the Dukes of Savoy to be a constant 
 threat to the Genevese, had been taken by the King 
 during the campaign. It was now razed, never again 
 to be rebuilt (Jan., 1560). 
 
 The Duke of Savoy, after his fruitless visit to the 
 Court of France, hearing the taunt that he had carried 
 away with him nothing but the mud of his winter 
 journey, replied: " The mud can be brushed off, but I 
 have left behind me traces, which the sword alone 
 can obliterate." An adept in intrigue, he had noticed 
 the restless discontent of many of those nobles who 
 had fought on the King's side against the League. 
 They contrasted their rewards with the favours ob- 
 tained by their former adversaries and complained 
 of their master's ingratitude. Their importance had, 
 they felt, depended on the war, and was likely fur- 
 ther to diminish as the country became more settled 
 and the authority of the Crown better established.
 
 1609] War with Savoy. 40 1 
 
 Foremost among these malcontents was the Mar- 
 shal Duke of Biron, the inheritor of his father's 
 ambition, vanity and martial reputation. If miser- 
 liness and ingratitude were defects in Henry's 
 character, he had not shown them in his treatment 
 of the companion-in-arms whose life he had twice 
 saved in battle at the risk of his own. He had made 
 him Marshal, Duke, and Peer of France, Governor 
 of the wealthy and important frontier province of 
 Burgundy. But no rewards appeared adequate to 
 Biron's extravagant estimate of his deserts, no wealth 
 could fill the bottomless purse of an inveterate 
 gambler and spendthrift. Biron liked to boast that 
 his own and his father's services had given the King 
 his crown, and made no secret of his disgust that he 
 was not all powerful at Court. His need of mone\' 
 was as well known as his extravagant ambition, and 
 he became the dupe of alchemists and of adepts in 
 occult sciences, who fooled him with the prospect 
 of boundless wealth and high fortune. 
 
 The Duke of Savoy found such a man a willing 
 recipient of a part of the treasure he had brought for 
 the corruption of the French Court, and ready to 
 incline his ear to any scheme which implied his own 
 aggrandisement. One La Fin, an adventurer and 
 charlatan, who, after wasting his own substance in 
 the pursuit of the philosopher's stone, had acquired 
 the confidence of the Marshal by his skill in alchemy, 
 astrology and magic, conducted the negotiations 
 between him and Charles Emmanuel. Nothing defin- 
 ite was settled before the war of 1600. The support 
 
 of Spain was indispensable to the confederates, but 
 36
 
 402 Henry of Navarre. [I59d- 
 
 Philip III. was phlegmatic and timid : his minister, 
 the Duke of Lerma, as incompetent as he was greedy 
 and aspiring, distrusted his own ability to cope with 
 such an adversary as Henry IV. Accordingly the 
 Spanish Court declared that during the King's life 
 nothing could be done, suggesting at the same time 
 that this obstacle might be removed. Various plans 
 for the assassination of Henr}' were discussed, as well 
 as the terms on which the Duke of Savoy would 
 bestow his daughter's hand on the Marshal. 
 
 Henry knew something of what was going on, and 
 took such precautions that Biron was compelled to 
 assist in the defeat of his confederate. On the con- 
 clusion of the war, thinking that nothing could be 
 done for the present, and wishing to guard against 
 the danger of detection, Biron made a merit of con- 
 fessing to the King that he had had some dealings 
 with Savoy and in a moment of pique had asked the 
 hand of the Duke's daughter ; and for whatever he 
 had done amiss he implored a pardon which was 
 readily granted. 
 
 Scarcely however had the peace been signed before 
 Biron was again listening to the offers of the Duke 
 of Savoy and of the Spaniards. The hand of a 
 princess, a dowry of 300,000 crowns and the inde- 
 pendent sovereignty of Burgundy were irresistible 
 baits to his ambition and poverty. He preferred, 
 he said, death on the scaffold to an almshouse, and 
 became the centre of all who plotted against King 
 or country in France. He affected to be a zealous 
 Catholic and deplored the sinful tolerance of the 
 King, while at the same time he and Bouillon en-
 
 1609] War with Savoy. 403 
 
 deavoured to persuade the Huguenots that their 
 extermination had been promised to the Pope. 
 
 The towns were excited by an artfully disseminated 
 report that the hated pancarte, or tax on sales, was 
 but the beginning of a new system of fiscal oppres- 
 sion. The inhabitants of those provinces which were 
 exempt from or had compounded for the gabelle, 
 were informed that Sully intended to impose a 
 uniform salt tax on the whole kingdom. 
 
 It is not likely that any definite treaty was drawn 
 up between the Marshal and his foreign allies ; but 
 the understanding appears to have been, that, after 
 the King and his family — "the lion and his whelps" 
 — had been cleared out of the way, the Crown of 
 France should be declared elective and the great 
 vassals, like the Princes of the Empire, be practically 
 sovereign in their respective territories. An inde- 
 pendence as great as that of the free imperial cities 
 would, it was hoped, induce the larger towns to 
 acquiesce in the disruption of the kingdom. Such 
 a scheme was well calculated to tempt the selfish 
 ambition of the more powerful nobles. The Con- 
 stable Montmorency, Epernon and many others 
 appear to have been privy — at least in part — to the 
 conspiracy. The half-brother of Henriette d'En- 
 tragues, the Count of Auvergne, took a more active 
 part in the plot, and his sister certainly knew some- 
 thing of what was going on. The restless ambition 
 of Bouillon could not resist the temptation of the 
 sovereignty of an independent Protestant State to be 
 formed beyond the Loire, but he attempted in vain to 
 draw the other Huguenot leaders into the design.
 
 404 Henry of Navarre. [159&- 
 
 In September, 1601, Henry was at Calais, and 
 Queen Elizabeth came to Dover, partly in the hope 
 that her old ally would visit her to discuss how best 
 they might humble Spain. Henry IV. would gladly 
 have done so, but he feared to alarm the Catholics, 
 and was unwilling to do anything which might lead 
 to an immediate renewal of the war. He sent Biron 
 to offer his excuses and regrets, and Elizabeth in- 
 vited the Duke to accompany her to London. 
 Taking him by the hand, as he was talking to her in 
 a room of the Tower, she led him to a window, and 
 pointed to where the once loved head of Essex was 
 rotting in wind and rain. " Had he but confessed 
 that he deserved death I would have pardoned him. 
 He bowed before the headsman, because his pride 
 would not endure to stoop to me. If I grieved for 
 the death of that poor wretch, it was for his in- 
 gratitude." Then looking fixedly into the Marshal's 
 restless and sinister eyes, deep set in his swarthy 
 face, she continued : " If the King would believe 
 me, there are as many heads which need to be cut 
 of^ in Paris as in London." 
 
 That same month the Dauphin Lewis was born ; 
 perhaps Biron's heart misgave him, more probably 
 he distrusted his confidant, with whom he was no 
 longer on the best of terms, for he wrote to La Fin, 
 " God has given the King a son, let us forget our 
 dreams." Yet shortly after he renewed, through 
 another agent, his negotiations with Spain and 
 Savoy. La Fin, on the offer of a free pardon and 
 great rewards, came to Fontainebleau, told all he 
 knew, and placed in the King's hands letters
 
 1609] War with Savoy. 4^5 
 
 written by Biron and containing ample proof of his 
 treason. 
 
 Henry, alarmed at the extent of the conspiracy, 
 wrote to Biron, that what he had heard from La Fin 
 had entirely satisfied him, and begged him to come 
 to court ; while he himself hurried into the western 
 provinces, where he feared the discontent of the 
 towns and peasantry and the influence among the 
 Huguenots of the Dukes of Thouars and Bouillon. 
 He reassured the Protestants, contradicted the 
 malicious reports about new imposts and the exten- 
 sion of the salt tax and received protestations of 
 loyalty, which it was politic to believe, from Mont- 
 morency and Epernon. The latter he brought back 
 with him to Fontainebleau, and he once more sum- 
 moned Biron. If he obeyed and came, he would 
 not believe a word of the charges against him. Con- 
 scious of guilt the Marshal would gladly have stayed 
 away; but Sully had stripped the fortresses of 
 Burgundy of their guns, on the pretext of replacing 
 them with better artillery ; 6,ooo Swiss and French 
 troops commanded by loyal oflficers were quartered 
 in the province and in the neighbouring districts ; as 
 many more were on the march. Montmorency and 
 Epernon had drawn back. The Huguenots would 
 not listen to Bouillon ; Spain, averse to active inter- 
 ference in France, would certainly not come to his 
 assistance. The short campaign of 1600 had in- 
 spired the Duke of Savoy with a prudent dread of 
 French arms. Biron had no choice but to obey or 
 to fly the country, a powerless and dishonoured 
 exile. He therefore determined to so to Fontaine-
 
 4o6 Henry of Navarre. 1599- 
 
 bleau, to appeal to the King's old friendship, and to 
 oppose a brazen denial to any charges brought 
 against him, which would be, as he supposed, little 
 more than vague surmises resting on no certain 
 evidence. 
 
 No one was less vindictive and more humane than 
 Henry IV., and we may well believe his assurance 
 that if his own safety alone and not that of his 
 family and country had been at stake, he would still 
 have pardoned his old friend and companion in arms. 
 As it was, he assured Sully that if Biron would make 
 a clean breast, confess everything and sue for pardon, 
 all should be forgiven and forgotten. He probably 
 justified such clemency by the reflection that the 
 Duke after such abasement would no longer be 
 dangerous. He bade the minister go to him and 
 advise him to conceal nothing, and to hope every- 
 thing from his master's affection. But Biron was 
 obdurate. He protested both to Sully and to the 
 King, with whom he had two interviews, that he 
 had been foully calumniated, that he had done 
 nothing, knew nothing except what he had already 
 confessed at Lyons. 
 
 The evening of the second day after his arrival he 
 played cards till after midnight at the Queen's table ; 
 as he rose to leave, the King called him aside : 
 " Biron, you know that I have loved you. Confess 
 the truth to me and I will pardon you." Again 
 Biron said he had nothing to confess. " I see," 
 replied Henry, " that I shall learn nothing from you. 
 Perhaps the Count of Auvergne will tell me more. 
 Good-bye, Baron de Biron." As soon as he passed
 
 1609] 
 
 War with Savoy. 407 
 
 the door he was arrested by the Captain of the 
 Guard, who asked for his sword. The Marshal 
 broke out into laments and protestations. What ! 
 his sword that had done such service ! Was this 
 the reward of his campaigns, his thirty-two wounds, 
 his father's merits? He must and would speak to 
 the King; at length he surrendered his sword and 
 was led to the Bastille, where his captivity was shared 
 by the Count of Auvergne. 
 
 Biron was forthwith arraigned of high treason 
 before the Parliament. The peers of the realm were 
 summoned to take their place among the judges, as 
 was customary when one of their number was on his 
 trial. But none appeared. They were unwilling to 
 condemn yet dared not acquit. The evidence of the 
 guilt of the accused was overwhelming and the 
 court unanimously sentenced him to a traitor's 
 death (July 29, 1602). 
 
 The Chancellor and other of^cials went to the 
 Bastille to communicate the judgment to the pris- 
 oner. He was occupied in astrological calculations, 
 seeking to discover his fate from the stars. When 
 he learnt on more certain authority what it was to 
 be, he burst forth in a passion of violent invective. 
 Was this the King's gratitude ? Why did he refuse 
 to pardon him and let greater culprits go scot free? 
 How many times had Epernon betrayed him, and 
 Mayenne ? Queen Elizabeth was ready to forgive 
 Essex, had he asked for mercy. Well, if he must 
 die, he must, but the King had not learnt all his 
 secret, and never should from him. Even yet he 
 could not believe that he would be executed. So
 
 4o8 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 \ 
 
 contrary to all precedent did it seem that a great 
 noble and officer of the Crown should be capitally 
 punished for conspiracy against the King's life and 
 the peace of the country. He showed no vestige of 
 religious feeling ; he would not even pray, fearing, 
 says a contemporary, the devil more than God. But 
 he bade those about him tell the people that he died 
 a good Catholic ; he would send no message to his 
 mother because she was a heretic. He wished it to 
 be believed that he died a martyr, and thus to stim- 
 ulate the zeal of the fanatics, who daily plotted 
 against the King's life. 
 
 When he was brought out to the scaffold in the 
 courtyard of the Bastille, for he was spared the igno- 
 miny of the Place de Greve, the spectators marvelled 
 that a man famous for the most undaunted valour, 
 should on that last scene display so little self- 
 possession or dignity. But it was rage not fear, the 
 hope that at the last he would be pardoned and bitter 
 disappointment that this hope was not realised, 
 which made him three times snatch the bandage from 
 his eyes, threaten the executioner that he would 
 strangle him if he but laid a finger on him, and alarm 
 those who stood around by his fierce words and angry 
 gestures. At length the headsman took him una- 
 wares and with marvellous dexterity struck off at a 
 blow his bull-necked head ; three times it is said to 
 have bounded from the ground, " impelled by the 
 fury which possessed it." 
 
 Henry IV. was probably glad that Biron had died 
 without making any full and public confession. He 
 had learnt all that it concerned him to know from
 
 1609] War with Savoy. 409 
 
 La Fin and from the base terror of the Count of 
 Auvergne, who, to save his Hfe, offered, King's son 
 though he was, to play the part of a spy and to con- 
 tinue to communicate with his confederates in order 
 that he might disclose their plans to the Government. 
 The King neither desired a war with Spain and 
 Savoy, whose ambassadors expressed to him their 
 masters' satisfaction that he had crushed so danger- 
 ous a conspiracy, nor to disturb the peace of the 
 country by punishing the great nobles who had been 
 to a greater or less extent the accomplices of the 
 Duke of Biron. 
 
 Bouillon after disobeying repeated commands to 
 come to Court, and conscious that he had carried his 
 ingratitude and treason further than others, fled the 
 country and sought a refuge with his brother-in-law 
 the Elector Palatine. He tried to excite sympathy 
 as a sufferer for the Protestant cause, and did what 
 he could to persuade the Germans that the King of 
 France had become a persecutor, at the very moment 
 when Henry was negotiating for the formation of a 
 league of the German Protestants, the main object 
 of which was to be the election of a non-Austrian 
 prince as King of the Romans. Failing in this 
 Bouillon retired to Sedan, the impregnable capital 
 of his wife's dominions. The execution of Biron was 
 an impressive warning that the game of treason could 
 not henceforth be played with a light heart and the 
 certainty of impunity ; but a fanatic does not pause 
 to weigh consequences, and an assassin may hope 
 to escape in the confusion and consternation of 
 his success. The notorious book of Mariana, Dc
 
 4IO Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 Rege et Regis Institutione (Toledo, 1599 — Mayence, 
 1605) had justified tyrannicide, and glorified Jean 
 Chastel, and the King, says Aubigne, who feared 
 nothing else, dreaded the Jesuit's knife. The 
 Jesuits indeed pointed out that Mariana was a 
 rebel to authority, the leader of the Spanish faction 
 and the chief opponent of their General Aquaviva ; 
 that his book was no exposition of their true doc- 
 trine, that they did not teach regicide, nor even the 
 supremacy of the Pope in temporal matters — at least 
 he had but an extraordinary supremacy, one only to 
 be used when absolutely necessary for the salvation 
 of the souls of the faithful. It was a vile calumny to 
 call them the tools of Spain at the very moment 
 when they were being persecuted by the King of 
 Spain and his Dominican Inquisition. All this and 
 much more was urged by Father Cotton, afterwards 
 the King's complaisant confessor, who had been 
 allowed to come to Court to plead the cause of his 
 Order. 
 
 Cotton was the very man for the task, supple, un- 
 scrupulous, the typical Jesuit of Protestant contro- 
 versy, disarming suspicion by an apparent simplicity 
 which bordered on folly. Everything that persua- 
 sion, everything that intrigue could effect was done 
 to induce the King to permit the Order to return 
 to Paris. They only wished to be allowed to reopen 
 their schools. They would not preach. They would 
 obey the ordinary. There were no bounds to their 
 submissive humility. His mistress Henriette, La 
 Varenne his confidant and pandar, the majority of 
 his Catholic ministers, urged the King to gratify the
 
 1609] War with Spain. 411 
 
 Pope and to prove his love of toleration by allowing 
 the poor fathers to return. Sully vainly pointed out 
 that the Jesuits, who were the soul of the counter 
 Reformation, who were supreme at the Courts of 
 Vienna and Brussels, must necessarily be the in- 
 veterate opponents of a policy based on toleration, 
 and which aimed at overthrowing the power of the 
 Hapsburgs by consolidating German Protestantism. 
 " No doubt," replied his master, " but I must do 
 one of two things : Receive them and learn by ex- 
 perience the value of their protestations and prom- 
 ises, or by a decided refusal reduce them to such 
 despair, that they will certainly attempt my life, 
 which will be made so wretched by the constant fear 
 of dagger or poison that I would far rather be 
 dead." The Parliament protested in vain. The 
 decree authorising the return of the Order was regis- 
 tered (September, 1603). The King showed the 
 Jesuits much favour, liberally endowed their college 
 at La Fleche and other institutions. But he at the 
 same time allowed the Huguenots to open their 
 place of worship at Charenton, and endeavoured to 
 persuade them by word and deed that they might 
 trust to his affection and policy for protection against 
 their enemies. The Jesuits had hoped with the aid 
 of their friends among his advisers to make Henry 
 their confederate in the struggle against heresy. 
 When they found that he was still the ally of their 
 opponents and the strength of the resistance to the 
 further progress of Romanism, were they not likely 
 in their disappointment to become even more bitter 
 and dangerous enemies, and that too, as Sully said,
 
 412 Henry of Navarre. 11599- 
 
 after they had been admitted into the very heart of 
 the place ? 
 
 Modern historians have shown that the " Grand 
 Design," attributed to Henry IV., of a Christian 
 Commonwealth composed of fifteen Confederate 
 States, Protestant and Catholic, republican and 
 monarchical, elective and hereditary, was an inven- 
 tion of Sully's vanity and leisure. Such a visionary 
 scheme would not have recommended itself to the 
 essentially practical mind of the King, the aim of 
 whose policy if less ideal and disinterested was at 
 least more attainable. 
 
 The Peace of Vervins ended the hostilities in the 
 field between the two countries ; but indirectly, and 
 with the weapons of diplomacy and intrigue, the 
 struggle between France and the heirs of Charles V. 
 was carried on with unabated animosity. Henry 
 IV. complained with good ground, that the insub- 
 ordination of his nobles, the disappointed ambition 
 of his captains, the humours of his wife, the far- 
 reaching hopes and rancour of his mistress, the 
 troublesome fanaticism and ignorant prejudices of a 
 part of his people and clergy were encouraged and 
 inflamed by Spanish intrigue: that all who plotted 
 or attempted anything against him or his Govern- 
 ment, did so with the full assurance of Spanish help, 
 or of finding, at the worst, a refuge on Spanish 
 territory. 
 
 But he was himself not less assiduous in his efforts 
 to injure the House of Hapsburg, not less careful to 
 encourage its enemies and to prepare by his diplo- 
 macy allies for himself in the war, upon which he
 
 1609] Spanish Intrigues. 413 
 
 was determined as soon as he had re-established 
 order, restored the finances of France, reorganised 
 his army and collected sufficient resources for a 
 struggle destined to change the face of Europe. 
 For it was no doubt his hope to separate the 
 Netherlands from Spain, to unite the Protestant 
 princes of Germany in a firm alliance, and with their 
 help to deprive the Austrian House of the Imperial 
 crown, while he at the same time assisted the Italian 
 princes to drive the Spaniards out of the peninsula. 
 Had he been able to effect this, even without any 
 extension of territory, France would have become 
 the arbitress of Europe. But he contemplated no 
 such disinterested policy. He would have been glad 
 to annex the whole of the Netherlands, and, if Dutch 
 love of independence and English jealousy made 
 this impossible, he at least hoped to obtain Artois, 
 Hainault and Franche-Comte, with Roussillon, as 
 the reward of his efforts for the common cause. It 
 was thought also that he had not quite forgotten the 
 traditional French claims to the two Sicilies and 
 Milan, yet as it was not likely that the Italian powers 
 would help to overthrow the domination of Spain 
 simply to place themselves under that of France, 
 he was probably prepared to forego all territorial 
 aggrandisement beyond the Alps. 
 
 Henry IV. had fully made up his mind that when 
 he was prepared for war and an opportunity offered 
 he would attack Spain and Austria, but the time and 
 manner of the attack were to be determined by cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 The death of Queen Elizabeth (1603) was most
 
 414 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 sincerely mourned by her old ally. " She was," he 
 said, " my second self, the irreconcilable enemy of 
 our enemies."* Sully was at once sent to persuade 
 her successor to embark on an anti-Spanish policy, 
 and to conclude a yet closer alliance with France. 
 James I. was at first eager for peace with Spain 
 and spoke of the Dutch as rebels who deserved no 
 help. But the discovery of a plot for his assassina- 
 tion changed his mood, and he listened to the advice 
 of his wiser ministers, especially of Cecil, who, 
 though unwilling either to engage England in a 
 struggle which might overtax her resources, or to 
 assist France to acquire the sovereignty of the 
 Netherlands, was averse to any peace which should 
 not effectually limit the power of Spain. Olden 
 Barneveld also came to England to plead in person 
 the cause of his countrymen, and impressed the 
 British Solomon by the vigour of his genius and the 
 cogency of his arguments. James listened com- 
 placently to proposals for a double marriage between 
 the Dauphin and his only daughter, the Lady Eliza- 
 beth, and between Prince Henry and Elizabeth of 
 France. In the treaty which was finally signed 
 there was no mention of these betrothals, but the 
 English King promised to allow soldiers to be levied 
 in England and Scotland for the defence of Ostend 
 besieged by the Spaniards, while Henry IV. engaged 
 
 * The expression occurs in a letter given by Sully in the Economies 
 Royales, of doubtful authenticity, since it purports to have been written 
 by the King on the day before that on which we know that he heard 
 of Elizabeth's death, and bears other traces of Sully's workshop for 
 manufacturing documents. But Henry says very much the same 
 thing ia a letter written to his ambassador in England shortly after.
 
 1609] Spanish Intrigues. 415 
 
 to defray the expenses of this force, a third part of 
 what he spent being deducted from the debt he 
 owed to the EngHsh Government. Accordingly a 
 reinforcement of 6,000 men joined the contingent, 
 which, under Sir Francis Vere, was assisting Maurice 
 to resist Spinola. 
 
 In Germany, French diplomacy was active, en- 
 deavouring to unite the Protestant princes divided 
 by dynastic quarrels and theological hatred, and to 
 prepare the way for the elevation of a non-Austrian 
 prince to the Imperial throne. In order to distract 
 the attention of the Hapsburgs, Henry IV. en- 
 deavoured to prevent the conclusion of peace in 
 1602 between Turkey and the Emperor. In 1603 
 the French ambassador urged the new Sultan, 
 Achmet, an energetic and ambitious prince, to con- 
 clude peace with Persia and to turn his arms against 
 Hungary. The capture of Pesth by the Moslem 
 was thus to some extent the consequence of the 
 diplomacy of the Most Christian King to whom the 
 inventor of the "■ Grand Design " attributes the 
 intention of turning the Turk bag and baggage out 
 of Europe. 
 
 French agents also sought to turn the sufferings 
 of the Moriscos, the half converted descendants of 
 the Spanish Moors, to account, by inciting them to 
 defend themselves by arms against their fanatical 
 and foolish oppressors. 
 
 But nowhere was Henry's diplomacy more success- 
 ful than in Italy. He remained on good terms with 
 the Pope and influential at Rome, while refusing to 
 permit the promulgation in France of the decrees of
 
 41 6 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 the Council of Trent, and maintaining his right to 
 appoint to vacant bishoprics and benefices, and that 
 of his parHaments to receive appeals from the 
 ecclesiastical courts and even to deprive bishops of 
 their sees, an abomination in the eyes of the High 
 Church and Ultramontane party. 
 
 On the death of Clement VIII. (March, 1605) 
 French influence and gold brought about the election 
 of the Cardinal Alexander de' Medici (Leo XL), and 
 on his death within less than a month after his 
 elevation, of the Cardinal Camillo Borghese (Paul 
 v.), a prelate who, at any rate, was no friend of 
 Spain. 
 
 But nothing did more to raise the French King's 
 reputation and influence in Italy than his successful 
 mediation in a quarrel concerning ecclesiastical im- 
 munities between the Pope and Venice (1606). 
 Spain hoped as the champion of the Church to 
 obtain a pretext for attacking and humbling the 
 Republic, which had been the persevering and 
 dangerous, though cautious opponent of her Italian 
 policy. Henry IV., on the other hand, owed a debt 
 of gratitude to Venice, which had been the first 
 Roman Catholic power publicly to acknowledge his 
 title, and he more than repaid that debt by enabling 
 the Senate to conclude an arrangement with the 
 Holy See by which Paul V. virtually surrendered 
 all disputed points, and thereby abandoned that 
 claim of the spiritual power to pre-eminence over the 
 temporal, which Rome had struggled during so many 
 centuries to establish. But the Italians were less 
 impressed by a concession, which marks an epoch
 
 1609] Spanish Inb'igiies. 417 
 
 in the history of the Church, than by the vic- 
 tory won by French over Spanish diplomacy. The 
 Duke of Savoy, who had gained nothing from his 
 connection with Spain, abandoned the dream of a 
 Burgundian kingdom extending to the Rhone, and 
 hoped by allying himself with France to obtain 
 Lombardy or some equivalent accession of territory 
 at the expense of his former allies. 
 
 But the French King was not always the aggressor 
 in the contest of intrigue, nor was the advantage 
 always on his side. Just as the Spanish army was 
 still the army of Pedro Navarro and of Gonsalvo of 
 Cordova, of Alva, and Farnese, still the most perfect 
 instrument of warfare in Europe, surpassing other 
 troops in organisation, professional pride and dis- 
 cipline, so Spanish diplomacy still displayed the 
 Machiavellian arts, the restless activity it had learnt 
 when directed by the untiring vigilance of the recluse 
 of the Escurial. Scarcely a day passed but Henry 
 was reminded that Spain retained both the power 
 and the will to -do him an injury. 
 
 Soon after Biron's conspiracy it was discovered 
 that the secretary of Villeroy was in the pay of 
 the Spaniards and communicated to them all the 
 secrets of the French foreign ofBce. The Count of 
 Auvergne, who had cunningly secured an oppor- 
 tunity to continue his treasonable correspondence 
 by affecting a wish to make his relations with the 
 Court of Madrid the means of obtaining information 
 for the French Government, disclosed only what was 
 unimportant or untrue and persisted in conspiring 
 against his King and country.
 
 41 8 Henry of Navarre. [I699- 
 
 The domestic life of Henry IV. was very much 
 what his extraordinary disregard of decency and 
 dignity deserved, and it was never more stormy and 
 uncomfortable than about this time (1604). He was 
 tormented by the reproaches and by the mutual abuse 
 of his wife and mistress. Mary of Medici complained 
 that Madame de Verneuil dared to insinuate that she 
 was the King's true wife, her son the legitimate 
 heir. If the King were to die, she, his widow, and 
 the Dauphin would be exposed to great danger. 
 The domestic and foreign enemies of the Govern- 
 ment would be eager to support the claim of Hen- 
 riette's boy as a pretext for troubling the kingdom. 
 Henriette, on the other hand, maintained that, even 
 during her lover's life, she had reason to dread the 
 jealous hostility of the Florentine ; while if anything 
 were to happen to Henry, who could protect her and 
 her poor orphans against the Queen Regent? The 
 least the King could do was to give her some strong 
 castles and towns in which they might seek a 
 refuge. As he refused to entertain such a proposal, 
 she spoke in such terms of his wife and so tauntingly 
 to her lover, that he was nearly provoked into boxing 
 her ears. But so great was her power over him, so 
 delightful and amusing her society, so alluring, as it 
 would seem, even her devilry and malice, that on the 
 next day he would again be at her feet and lament- 
 ing her coldness. For she scarcely deigned to con- 
 ceal her indifference ; were he not a King, she used 
 to say, no one would tolerate him as a lover, and he 
 had good reason to believe, that there were others 
 whom she regarded with more favour.
 
 (609] Spanish Intrigues. 419 
 
 In the middle of June (1604) the EngHsh ambas- 
 sador handed to the King a letter, in which James 
 I. advised him to seize the person and papers of one 
 Morgan, a Spanish spy and agent, then in Paris. It 
 appeared from documents in Morgan's possession 
 tl^at the Count of Auvergne and the Entragues were 
 seeking not only to secure the support of Spain for 
 Henriette and her children in the event of the King's 
 death, but also intended to attempt some treason 
 during his lifetime. 
 
 Auvergne was in his county ; the King sent for 
 Entragues, but he and his daughter stoutly denied 
 that there had been more than vague talk between 
 them and the Spanish ambassador as to whether the 
 King of Spain would promise Henriette a refuge in 
 his dominions. Entragues was not immediately ar- 
 rested, and hurried to his Castle of Marcoussis, where 
 three moats and drawbridges always raised would 
 secure him against a surprise. He was therefore not 
 a little astonished when early one morning his cur- 
 tains were drawn by a royal officer and he saw his 
 room filled with archers of the Guard ; four of whom 
 had passed the triple moats and bridges, in the dress 
 of country women bringing butter and eggs for their 
 lord's breakfast, overpowered the sentinels and ad- 
 mitted their comrades. 
 
 Entragues was carried off to the Bastille, and with 
 him a voluminous correspondence between the con- 
 spirators and the Spanish Court, containing pro- 
 posals for the assassination of the King and a promise 
 signed by Philip III. to recognise the son of Madame 
 de Verneuil as heir to the French throne on the
 
 420 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 decease of Henry IV. The only thing wanting was 
 the celebrated promise of marriage. On a hint that 
 he might thus buy his pardon, Entragues told where 
 it might be found hidden in a hole in the wall. The 
 prisoner signed a declaration that this was the au- 
 thentic promise, and that no other to the same effect 
 existed. There had been a popular rumour of one 
 written by the King with his blood, which Henriette 
 was said to keep in her own possession. 
 
 In the meantime Auvergne had been arrested. 
 Madame de Verneuil also was placed in confinement. 
 The culprits were brought to trial before the Parlia- 
 ment. Entragues and Auvergne were convicted of 
 high treason and sentenced to death. Henriette was 
 remanded until further evidence could be procured. 
 The lives of her father, an inveterate and unscrupu- 
 lous intriguer, and of her half-brother, who, under a 
 not unpleasing exterior and a dignified grace of man- 
 ner, such as few of his father's house were wholly 
 unable to assume, had the soul of a swindling lac- 
 quey, were justly forfeited. The King's advisers 
 were urgent that the law should be allowed to take its 
 course. The execution of a King's son for treason, 
 and for conspiring with foreign powers would have 
 been an even more useful warning to high-born 
 traitors than the death of Marshal Biron. Henry 
 had done his best to overcome his passion for Hen- 
 riette d'Entragues. At first he turned for assistance 
 and sympathy to his wife. But, he complained to 
 Sully, she received his advances coldly and, when 
 he would have caressed her, assumed a repellent 
 air. There was nothing about her which could make
 
 1609] Co7ispiracies of the Entragues. 42 1 
 
 it easy to forget the graceful vivacity, the nimble 
 wit of his perfidious mistress. But perhaps fire might 
 drive out fire. The Princess of Cond^ had about 
 her a young relation Jacqueline de Beuil, conspicuous 
 among the beauties of the Court for her golden hair 
 and brilliant complexion, her infantile yet voluptuous 
 grace. The King determined to make her his mis- 
 tress. Perhaps he hoped to find in her more placid 
 nature some of the repose he had lost with his 
 Gabrielle. The Princess of Cond^ did not properly 
 appreciate the advancement in store for her cousin, 
 but the King gave her very roughly to understand 
 that she, at any rate, was not the person to affect 
 scruples of honour. The young lady herself regarded 
 the matter more simply as a business transaction. 
 She bargained for a title, an estate, a pension, a large 
 sum of ready money and a husband. 
 
 The King was in no hurry to discard a toy so 
 costly as the new mistress, yet he did not find that 
 she enabled him to forget the old. The corrupt 
 perversity, the fiery temper, the biting tongue of 
 Madame de Verneuil were more stimulating to his 
 jaded taste, than the cloying sweetness of a more 
 beautiful but soulless courtesan. He felt that he 
 must have his Henriette back, and all the more be- 
 cause she affected to scorn him and would not sue 
 for mercy. But if he cut off the father's head, even 
 he, dead as he was to all sense of seemliness, felt 
 that he could scarcely again be the daughter's 
 lover. Entrague's life, therefore, must be spared. 
 The Count of Auvergne, he argued, was too weak in 
 character, too blasted in reputation to be dangerous,
 
 422 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 and it might seem unworthy of his magnanimity to 
 send the last scion of the House of Valois to the 
 scaffold. Instead, therefore, of being led out to 
 execution, the Count was locked up in the Bastille, 
 while Entragues and his daughter were released. 
 
 Early in the new year (1605) the King was again 
 in amorous correspondence with Henriette, begging 
 her to love him, to whom all the rest of the world 
 compared with her was as nothing. Mile, de Beuil, 
 now Countess of Moret, was indeed retained, as a 
 refuge when the mistress was spiteful and the wife 
 sulky. Before long the resources of the royal harem 
 were further extended by the addition of a third 
 publicly acknowledged mistress. Mary of Medici 
 appeared to resent her husband's infidelities less 
 violently, now, when she shared his affections with 
 many, than when she dreaded the dangerous in- 
 fluence of Henriette d'Entragues alone. The irreg- 
 ularity of the King's conduct was perhaps the less 
 displeasing to her, because it compelled him to buy 
 her complaisance by shutting his eyes to the scan- 
 dalous favour and unbounded influence of Concini 
 and his wife, Leonora. 
 
 Shortly after the conspiracy of the Entragues, 
 discovery was made of a plot to betray Marseilles, 
 Beziers and other towns in the South to the Span- 
 iards. In the North they were again treating with 
 Bouillon, who was disappointed by the refusal of 
 the Huguenot Assembly which met in 1605 at 
 Chatelleraut, to countenance his opposition to the 
 King. Henry at length lost patience with this 
 troublesome intriguer. He advanced upon Sedan
 
 1609; Conspiracies of the Ejitr agues. 423 
 
 with a small army and a powerful battering train. 
 When the Duke saw that neither Protestants nor 
 Spaniards would stir a finger to help him, he capitu- 
 lated. The terms he obtained were favourable in 
 the extreme. No punishment was inflicted on him 
 except the occupation of Sedan during four years 
 by a royal garrison under a Huguenot commander. 
 The leniency of the King is perhaps to be excused 
 by his desire to conciliate the Protestants and the 
 neighbouring German princes, who interceded for 
 Bouillon, yet that ruler bears the sword in vain who 
 encourages by impunity plots dangerous to the 
 security of his country and to the lives of his 
 subjects. 
 
 On September 20, 1604, Ostend, a mere heap of 
 ruins, capitulated after a siege of three years. In 
 the next campaigns nothing that military genius 
 could effect against an adversary scarcely less able 
 was left undone by Spinola. He freely spent the 
 greater part of his vast wealth, 14,000,000 gold 
 crowns, in the service he had entered as a volunteer, 
 yet, although he won some battles and took some 
 fortresses, no real progress was made towards the 
 conquest of the revolted provinces, while every part 
 of the Spanish Empire was suffering from the per- 
 sistent and successful maritime war waged by the 
 Dutch. The state of the Spanish Netherlands was 
 deplorable. On the northern frontier the land was 
 desolate for miles ; grass grew in the streets of 
 Ghent and Bruges, the quays of Antwerp were 
 deserted. Nor were the Dutch unwilling to treat. 
 The load of taxation borne by the country was very
 
 424 Henry of Navarre. [1599- 
 
 heavy, and if the prosperity of the traders and of 
 the maritime poptdation increased, the sufferings of 
 the agricultural population were great. Moreover, 
 a powerful party desired peace, because they were 
 jealous of the almost regal authority of Prince 
 Maurice, to which, while the war lasted, they must 
 needs submit. 
 
 Some overtures were made by Archduke Albert 
 as early as 1603, but it was not till four years later 
 that negotiations for peace were opened in regular 
 form. After the great preliminary difficulty, the 
 recognition of the United Provinces as free and 
 sovereign States had been overcome, and a truce for 
 eight months concluded, it was very unlikely that 
 hostilities would again be resumed. Henry IV. 
 would have preferred the war to drag on till the 
 time was ripe for him to avenge himself and Europe 
 on the House of Austria. But if the Dutch would 
 not continue the struggle without more help than it 
 was convenient for him to give, then the best he 
 could do was to secure their gratitude by taking an 
 active and friendly part in the negotiations, and by 
 protecting them against any treachery or double 
 dealing intended by the common enemy. He 
 accordingly sent President Jeannin to attend the 
 Conference at the Hague as his representative, and 
 concluded a defensive alliance with the United 
 Provinces, which was to come into force immediately 
 after the conclusion of peace (January, 1608). 
 
 The Nuncio and some of the Jesuits about the 
 French Court assured the Spanish Government, that 
 Henry IV. might be induced not only to abandon
 
 1609] Conspiracus of the Efitr agues. 425 
 
 the Dutch but even to turn his arms against them, 
 if his daughter were betrothed to the second son of 
 Phihp III. and the sovereignty of a re-united and 
 CathoHc Netherlands secured to them after the death 
 of Archduke Albert. Encouraged by the Pope, 
 Philip III. sent Don Pedro of Toledo, a grandee of 
 the highest rank and a cousin of Mary of Medici, as 
 his ambassador to Paris, to propose a close alliance 
 between the two Courts, cemented by a double mar- 
 riage between the royal children. Such an arrange- 
 ment would have been as acceptable to the Catholic 
 party, the former Leaguers, in the Council, as to the 
 Queen. They saw that the nearer the time drew 
 for the accomplishment of the King's anti-Spanish 
 designs the more he inclined to the Protestants. 
 Old Huguenots like Aubigne, began to be seen 
 about the Court ; and it was felt that when once 
 Henry, as the head of a Protestant coalition, had 
 drawn the sword against the dynasty, whose cause 
 was identified with that of Romanism, he must, of 
 necessity, be led farther in the same direction. The 
 situation, was not unlike that before the massacre of 
 Bartholomew, when the adoption by Charles IX. of 
 the policy of Coligny, the declaration of war against 
 Spain, would have been followed by the triumph of 
 the Protestants and of their friends in the royal 
 council. 
 
 But Henry IV. could not be tempted, by a bait 
 more glittering than substantial, to change the whole 
 of his policy : to abandon his cherished hope of so 
 humbling the Hapsburgs that their ambition should 
 never again be dangerous to France or Europe. He
 
 426 He7iry of Navarre. 
 
 [1599 
 
 was asked forthwith to abandon and attack his allies, 
 but the price of his dishonour was future and con- 
 tingent. When Don Pedro at his first audience said 
 that his master would gladly negotiate on the basis 
 of the proposals made to him for a double marriage, 
 Henry indignantly interrupted him. " What pro- 
 posals?" he had made none himself and would 
 sooner lose his hand than be false to his allies ! 
 
 It was in vain that the Castilian bent his pride to 
 flattery. Taking the King's sword from a page he 
 kissed it, saying that he now was a happy man, since 
 he had held in his hands the sword of the bravest 
 King in the world : threats availed even less. When 
 Don Pedro exclaimed, in the heat of dispute, that 
 the King, by helping the Dutch, might provoke 
 Philip III. to assist French malcontents, Henry 
 burst forth : " Let your master have a care, I should 
 be in the saddle before his foot touched the 
 stirrup," 
 
 Don Pedro remained eight months in France 
 courted by the Queen and doing his best to fan 
 once more the old embers of the League into a 
 blaze. Again the drum ecclesiastic was beaten in 
 the Parisian pulpits and again the piety of the mob 
 made the streets unsafe to the Huguenots. Again 
 the Guises began to cabal and to complain of the 
 harshness with which the King exacted the price of 
 Mercceur's pardon, the hand of his daughter for 
 the Duke of Vendome. Nothing availed to force 
 the Spanish alliance on Henry, or to save Spain 
 from the humiliation of recognising the indepen- 
 dence of the little country which for forty years had
 
 t609] Conspiracies of the Entragucs. 427 
 
 successfully defied the efforts of the greatest and 
 wealthiest empire the world had seen since the first 
 barbarian hordes crossed the Roman frontiers. 
 Owing in great measure to the skilful diplomacy of 
 Jeannin, supported by the English envoys, a treaty 
 was signed (April 9, 1609) between Philip III. and 
 the Dutch, which recognised the independence of 
 the United Provinces and secured to them the right 
 of trading to all parts of the Indies not actually 
 occupied by the Spaniards. It was an empty con- 
 cession to Spanish pride that the treaty took the 
 form of a twelve year's truce and not of a perpetual 
 peace. 
 
 •"^:
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 COMPLICATIONS IN GERMANY — PREPARATIONS FOR 
 WAR — ASSASSINATION OF THE KING. 
 
 1609-1610. 
 
 IVEN before peace had been concluded 
 at The Hague it had become clear 
 that the outbreak of hostilities in 
 Germany could not be long delayed. 
 The Peace of Augsburg (1555) had 
 been nothing more than a temporary 
 acquiescence on the part of both sides in the status 
 quo, a truce which could not be lasting. The 
 struggle had been too equal. Both sides were 
 irritated, neither convinced that in a second trial of 
 strength they might not be able to overwhelm their 
 opponents. Hardly any circumstance likely to pro- 
 voke and embitter the conflict was wanting. There 
 were dynastic jealousies and feuds, a universal sense 
 of uneasiness and insecurity, theological odium. On 
 both sides the confident assurance of foreign support ; 
 on both violations or evasions of the terms of a com- 
 promise purposely ambiguous, and pregnant with 
 
 428
 
 Complications in Germany. 429 
 
 disputes more dangerous than those which it was 
 supposed to settle. 
 
 The Protestants, who, during the tolerant reign of 
 Maximilian II. had appeared likely to become as 
 predominant in Hungary and Bohemia and southern 
 Germany as in the north, were alarmed by the rapid 
 progress of the Counter Reformation. The Jesuits 
 — Viscera inagnaruin domiiiim dominique futiiri — were 
 all powerful in the Courts of Vienna and Munich. In 
 the Austrian and Bavarian dominions, in most of the 
 ecclesiastical principalities of southern and in many 
 of those of northwestern Germany the Lutherans 
 were obliged either to submit to persecution or to 
 conceal their dissent. The Imperial law courts, the 
 only remaining centre of national unity, became 
 violently orthodox and partial. 
 
 The threatening attitude of the Emperor Rudolph 
 convinced the Protestant Princes that it was abso- 
 lutely necessary that they should unite for their 
 common defence. In 1601 a first defensive alliance 
 was concluded between the Elector Palatine, the 
 Elector of Brandenburg, the Landgrave of Hesse 
 and some others. 
 
 In 1605 the Protestants of Hungary and Transyl- 
 vania allied themselves with the Turks against their 
 persecuting sovereign. The revolt spread into the 
 hereditary dominions of the Hapsburgs. Compelled 
 by necessity and by the unanimous wish of his 
 family, the Emperor, whose character was an 
 unhappy mixture of obstinacy and weakness, of 
 unbridled sensuality, degrading superstition and 
 despondent apathy, allowed his far more able and
 
 430 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 tolerant brother Matthias to exercise a temporary 
 dictatorship and to save his empire by well-timed 
 concessions. It was agreed that Matthias should be 
 elected King of the Romans. But the Ultramon- 
 tanes induced the Archduke Ferdinand, a man of 
 great ambition and a zealous Catholic, to come for- 
 ward as a rival candidate to his cousin. Rudolph 
 also refused to perform the engagements entered into 
 in his name by Matthias, who thereupon with an 
 Austrian, Hungarian and Moravian army, marched 
 upon Prague where the Emperor was and extorted 
 the cession of half of his dominions and a promise 
 of the reversion of the remainder. Since Matthias 
 owed his success to the support of the Protestants, 
 he was compelled to grant them toleration in the 
 countries of which he became the ruler (summer of 
 1608). 
 
 At the diet held in the beginning of 1608, the 
 Protestants demanded the reform of the Imperial 
 courts, and an explicit renewal of the Religious 
 Peace to be promulgated in a more comprehensive 
 form ; and when their demands were rejected they 
 left the diet in a body. 
 
 After so open a schism the outbreak of war sooner 
 or later was certain, and a new and larger Union of 
 Protestant Princes was at once formed. The lead- 
 ing spirit of this confederation was Prince Christian 
 of Anhalt, a former officer and friend of Henry IV. 
 Saxony stood aloof, but all the other Protestant 
 Princes and many of the Free Cities joined the Union. 
 
 The domestic dissensions of the Hapsburgs ; the 
 imbecility of the Emperor, who was sinking into a.
 
 1610] Complications in Germany. 431 
 
 state of furious melancholy ; the Protestant reaction 
 in the Austrian provinces and Hungary ; the alliance 
 of the Protestant States of the Empire, were circum- 
 stances which could not but suggest to Henry IV. 
 that the time had come when a fatal blow might be 
 struck at the Atistro-Spanish power. In the next 
 year (March 25, 1609) an event happened certain to 
 precipitate the struggle for which both sides were 
 now more or less prepared. John William, Duke of 
 Cleves, Juliers and Berg, died childless. The Elector 
 of Brandenburg and the Count Palatine of Neuburg 
 were the nearest heirs, claiming through the two 
 eldest sisters of the late Duke. But the Emperor 
 maintained that the Duchies were male fiefs, which 
 could only descend in the direct male line, while the 
 Saxon princes appealed to old instruments, con- 
 firmed by the Imperial courts, which secured to 
 them the reversion of the possessions of the House 
 of Cleves. 
 
 The question of the succession to the dominions 
 of the Duke of Cleves was one of vital importance. 
 Lying as they did along the lower Rhine and close 
 to Belgium and Holland, in the hands of a Catholic 
 like the late Duke, they connected the bishoprics 
 of Munster, Paderborn and Hildesheim with the 
 ecclesiastical electorates and the Spanish Nether- 
 lands thus interrupting the communications of the 
 Protestants of Central Germany with the Dutch. 
 That they should pass into the hands of a Protestant 
 would be a fatal blow to the Catholics of northern 
 Germany and would threaten the security of the 
 Spanish Netherlands.
 
 432 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 Aware of the advantages of possession, the 
 Elector of Brandenburg and the Count Palatine of 
 Neuburg had at once endeavoured to occupy the 
 Duchies. They would have come to blows in the 
 process, had not the Landgrave of Hesse persuaded 
 them to govern the country jointly-until their claims 
 could be submitted to arbitration or otherwise de- 
 cided. The Emperor cited the claimants to appear 
 before his Court, and, since the " Possessioners," as 
 they were called, paid no attention to the summons, 
 he put them under the ban of the Empire and 
 ordered the Archduke Leopold to take possession of 
 the territory as Imperial Commissioner. 
 
 On the very day on which Henry IV. heard oi the 
 death of the Duke of Cleves, he wrote to Jeannin, 
 then at The Hague, that the Emperor would without 
 doubt try to seize the fortresses of the Duchies and 
 to possess himself of at least the better part of the 
 territory, but that he was determined not to allov,' 
 any such addition to the power of the House of 
 Austria ; and that if war came he would wage it in 
 no half-hearted fashion. Jeannin in reply told him 
 that Barneveld, the leader of the peace-party in the 
 United Provinces, had assured him that if the King 
 of France took up the cause of the Elector of 
 Brandenburg, the claimant whose title appeared 
 strongest, the Dutch would stand by him against no 
 matter whom. Neither France nor Holland could 
 permit Spain and Austria to establish themselves 
 at their gates in a position which commanded the 
 Rhine. 
 
 Archduke Albert desirous of peace, and well aware
 
 16101 Co?npiications in Gerf7zany. 433 
 
 that Henry IV. and his allies, if victorious, were 
 likely to seek an indemnity at his expense, proposed 
 that the Germans should be left to fight out their 
 own quarrels. He would not interfere, and he would 
 also persuiade his brother-in-law Philip HI. to remain 
 neutral. Henry replied, the Archdukes might please 
 themselves, but that whatever happened he was de- 
 termined to help his friends. Even the pacific James 
 I. announced his intention of joining with France 
 and Holland in defence of Protestant Germany 
 against Austria and Spain ; but since the conti- 
 nental powers were more directly interested than 
 England, it was for them to make the first move. 
 In Italy, Charles Emmanuel was now the zealous 
 ally of France. He had made up his mind that 
 the hereditary ambition of his family could not be 
 satisfied west of the Alps. As the reward of 
 his help in driving the Spaniards out of Italy he 
 hoped to receive the Duchy of Milan, and the 
 title of a King of Lombardy. It was thought that 
 the prospect of annexing Naples to the patrimony 
 of St. Peter might induce the Pope to join the 
 league against Spain. The island of Sicily was to 
 be the price of the active co-operation of Venice. 
 Henry had wisely abandoned the idea of any terri- 
 torial aggrandisement in Italy, but there was an un- 
 derstanding that Charles Emmanuel, if he received 
 Lombardy, should cede Savoy and Nice to France. 
 The King was very far from intending to go to war 
 for an idea, as some of the panegyrists of his disin- 
 terested policy would have us believe, or if for an idea, 
 
 it was for that idea of nationality which has since 
 28
 
 434 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 his time so often provided a useful excuse for dynas- 
 tic ambition. " I am well content," he said, " that 
 every place where Spanish is spoken should belong to 
 Spain, where German is spoken to Germany. But 
 every land where the French tongue is used, ought 
 to be mine." No doubt he hoped ultimately to 
 overcome the objections of England to the annexa- 
 tion of the Walloon Provinces, and of the Swiss to 
 that of Franche-Comte, and to secure the possession 
 of Lorraine by the projected marriage of the 
 Dauphin to the daughter and heiress of the Duke. 
 
 Meantime (August, 1609), by the connivance of 
 the commander of the garrison, Archduke Leopold 
 had obtained possession of the strongly fortified 
 town of Juliers, and began to carry on desultory 
 hostilities with the Possessioners. But with a few 
 troops supplied by the Ecclesiastical Electors and 
 some other Catholic Princes he could efTect little. 
 The Austrian Princes were engrossed by their family 
 dissensions, and the Spaniards were fully occupied 
 by the expulsions of the Moriscos, the most costly 
 and suicidal act of bigotry and folly ever perpetrated 
 even by that fanatical and shortsighted Government. 
 There was therefore abundant time for Henry to 
 complete his negotiations and preparations before 
 he began the war. 
 
 It had been arranged that a congress of the Princes 
 of the Protestant Union to be attended by the en- 
 voys of France should meet at Hall in Swabia at the 
 beginning of the next year (January, 1610). Until 
 then nothing was decided. Many about the King 
 were averse to war and in favour of a compromise,
 
 1610] Complications in Germany. 435 
 
 some because war increased the influence of their 
 rivals, others because they beheved that under ex- 
 isting circumstances the King of Spain and the 
 Emperor would be found ready to grant everything 
 that could reasonably be demanded. 
 
 Spanish influence was in the ascendant at the 
 Court of Florence, and the Tuscan ambassador con- 
 firmed Mary of Medici in her opposition to her 
 husband's policy. Nor were his allies as forward as 
 he had hoped. Venice displayed her usual caution. 
 The Pope could hardly fail to see that the success 
 of Henry IV. would mean a check to the future pro- 
 gress of orthodoxy, possibly the total ruin of the 
 German church. In short the only certain allies of 
 France in Italy were Savoy and Mantua. James I., 
 the Dutch and the German Princes were unwilling 
 to do more than defend the rights of the Posses- 
 sioners. It was therefore believed that a peaceable 
 solution was not impossible when an event occurred 
 which has been said to have determined Henry to 
 draw the sword. 
 
 It has pleased those writers who are attracted by 
 the romantic in history or who love to deduce great 
 events from the trivial accidents of our physical ex- 
 istence, to expatiate at length on the story of Henry 
 IV^'s unseemly passion for Charlotte de Montmo- 
 rency, and although it may not have materially 
 affected the course of events, we cannot well pass it 
 by in silence. It discredited the King's policy by 
 enabling his enemies to represent it as swayed by 
 personal and unworthy motives, and it affords an 
 impressive warning that if we indulge our pleasant
 
 43^ Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 vices we may become their unhappy and degraded 
 slaves 
 
 As Henry grew older, the private history of his 
 life became neither more edifying nor less eventful. 
 Henriette d'Entragues, notwithstanding her infideli- 
 ties, her treasonable intrigues, her bitter tongue, — 
 she spoke to the King, it was said, not as to an equal, 
 but as to her footman, — and her scarcely concealed 
 aversion, continued the reigning favourite. The 
 Duke of Guise and the Prince of Joinville were 
 among her admirers and she was not without hopes 
 of terminating a distasteful connection by a splendid 
 marriage. There are few things more pitiable than 
 the letters in which the King by mingling threats 
 and cajolery seeks to overcome the coldness of his 
 mistress. Nor were his relations with the other 
 ladies who shared his favour more dignified. Not 
 one of them seems to have felt any real affection for 
 him. They laughed at him behind his back with 
 the young courtiers and nobles who were his fortu- 
 nate rivals. He complained that his married life was 
 a hell upon earth ; that his wife was entirely ruled 
 by Concini and Leonora, who in everything incited 
 her to oppose his wishes. But conscious of his own 
 shortcomings he did not dare to insist that the mis- 
 chievous couple should be sent back to Italy. 
 
 In one respect only, Mary de' Medici fulfilled his 
 expectations. In nine years she bore him six chil- 
 dren. There was no longer any danger that a direct 
 heir to the Crown would not be forthcoming. Henry 
 IV. playing with his children is a familiar figure in 
 popular history, and no doubt he was in his way an
 
 1610] Complicatiojis in Germany. 437 
 
 affectionate father. But there was a marvellous ab- 
 sence of decorum and discipline in the royal nursery 
 at St. Germains, where his legitimate and illegitimate 
 offspring were brought up under the supervision of 
 a Mme. de Monglat, a respectable but not overwise 
 woman. 
 
 One afternoon towards the beginning of 1609, the 
 King passing through a gallery of the Louvre found 
 a bevy of young ladies practising for a ballet, nymphs 
 of Diana armed for the chase. As he came by, one 
 of these, a girl of fifteen, raised her javelin as if in 
 acr to strike. Such was her grace, her beauty and 
 the magic of her eyes that Henry seemed to himself 
 to be pierced to the heart and about to faint. 
 
 The nymph was Charlotte de Montmorency, one 
 of the two children born to the Constable by his 
 second wife, a woman of middling birth, who, it was 
 whispered, owed to some supernatural agency her 
 wondrous loveliness and the splendid marriage it 
 enabled her to make. She died young, some said 
 the demon had been an impatient creditor, leaving 
 two children the inheritors of her charms, Charlotte, 
 and a boy whose death on the scaffold was to be the 
 most impressive object lesson given to the French 
 nobility before the Revolution. 
 
 Mile, de Montmorency was betrothed, with the 
 King's approval, to Francis de Bassompierre, a young 
 noble of Lorraine whose graces and good looks had 
 acquired the King's favour, and who, though barely 
 twenty, was the gayest gallant and most accom- 
 plished lady-killer of the Court. 
 
 Shortly after this passing encounter the King was
 
 438 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 laid up by an attack of gout. By day he meditated 
 on the incomparable charms of Charlotte de Mont- 
 morency, who more than once accompanied her 
 aunt, the Duchess of Angouleme, on a visit to his 
 sick room. By night his attendants endeavoured to 
 soothe his pain by reading aloud the romances which 
 were then thrilling the polite world. The intermina- 
 ble rhapsodies of the lovesick shepherds and shep- 
 herdesses, the quintessential sentiment, the Platonic 
 gallantries of the Astree, weigh like the drowsiest of 
 opiates on the eyelids of the few who now open 
 the dusty volumes of M. d'Urfe. But they pro- 
 foundly stirred the fancy of the King. Perhaps just 
 because there could be no greater contrast than that 
 between his own life of active adventure, varied by 
 realistic amours, and the ideal world of vaporous 
 sentiment and alembicated passion to which he was 
 introduced. Thus two centuries later the Corsican 
 ogre sympathised with the sorrows of Werther and 
 the perplexities of Pamela. 
 
 As the paroxysm of his gout abated Henry felt 
 that a new and delightful sensation might be found 
 in a pure and romantic, but not unrequited passion 
 for the girlish bride of his favourite. Bassompierre 
 was summoned, and as he knelt by the royal bed- 
 side listened with surprised dismay to the communi- 
 cation made to him. His master confessed that he 
 was desperately in love with the Constable's daugh- 
 ter and therefore asked him to give up the projected 
 marriage. If the fair Charlotte became Bassom- 
 pierre's wife and loved him, he, the King, would hate 
 the happy husband ; if she loved the King, her hus-
 
 (6101 Complications in Germany. 439 
 
 band would hate the King. In either case there 
 would be enmity between them. Henry said he in- 
 tended to marry her to the Prince of Conde, who 
 scarcely cared for anything but hunting, and for 
 nothing less than ladies' society. He would keep 
 her about the Court and find in a tender and mutual, 
 but pure, attachment the delight and solace of that 
 old age which he felt to be creeping on him. Bas- 
 sompierre informs us in his memoirs that his love 
 was as warm as the chilling prospect of marriage 
 would allow, and the connection with the Mont- 
 morencys was too flattering and advantageous to be 
 foregone without regret. But he saw at once that 
 the King was determined, that unless he yielded 
 with a good grace he would lose both his bride and 
 the royal favour. In short the lover sighed, but the 
 courtier obeyed, and had his reward in the embraces 
 and flattering promises of the King. But on this 
 occasion at least we heartily sympathise with Char- 
 lotte, who when informed of the change that had 
 been made in the disposition of her hand, passed by 
 her too facile lover with a shrug and a glance that 
 sent him in grief and mortification to his room 
 where, he assures us, he spent three days without 
 food or sleep. 
 
 The plan arranged by the King was far from an- 
 swering his expectations. Conde, it is true, grate- 
 fully accepted the King's pension and appeared to 
 be far more interested in his wife's dowry than in 
 her person. But when he clearly understood the 
 part it was intended that he should play, when he saw 
 the King who was usually plain in dress and pain-
 
 440 Henry of N'avarre. [I609- 
 
 fully neglectful of his person, powdered and scented 
 and vying in silks and satins with his courtiers, when 
 he found that his wife was not only receiving but 
 replying to the passionate elegies and sonnets com- 
 posed for their master's use by Malherbe and other 
 rhymesters of the Court, then, in the King's phrase 
 he began " to play the devil," and after some angry 
 scenes in which Henry entirely lost all sense of dig- 
 nity and decorum, as well as his temper, carried of^ 
 the Princess to a castle not far from the Flemish 
 frontier. The King followed his mistress, and 
 dressed as one of his own huntsmen stood with a 
 patch over his eye by the roadside to see her pass. 
 He penetrated in the same disguise into the court- 
 yard of a house where she was dining and when she 
 appeared at a window kissed one hand to her, while 
 he pressed the other to his heart. The extravagance 
 of such behaviour must have delighted the malice 
 of his enemies, but we almost forget it in our disgust 
 at the baseness of the dowager Princess of Conde, 
 and of the Constable, Duke of Montmorency, who 
 were willing to gain the royal favour at the price of 
 their daughter's honour. 
 
 At length (30th November, 1609) Conde finding 
 himself betrayed by those who had most reason to 
 be true to him, fled hastily with his wife across the 
 frontier, apparently intending, as he professed, to 
 place her in the care of his sister, the Princess of 
 Orange at Breda. When Henry heard of his cousin's 
 flight his dismay and confusion were extreme. He 
 at once summoned his most trusted advisers, the 
 Chancellor (Brulart de Sillery), Villeroy, Jeannin.
 
 1610] Complications in Germaiiy. 441 
 
 One had proposed this, another that, when Sully 
 reached the scene of the discussion, the bedroom of 
 Mary de' Medici, whose last child, the ill-starred 
 Henrietta Maria, had been born a few days previ- 
 ously. As soon as the King saw Sully he went up 
 to him : " M. de Sully, the Prince is gone and has 
 taken his wife with him." — " Well, Sire, if you had 
 followed my advice and locked him up in the Bas- 
 tille, you would know where to find him." — "The 
 thing is done ; it is no use talking like that. The 
 question is, what am I to do now ? " — " Let me go 
 back to the Arsenal, sup and sleep upon it, and then 
 I shall perhaps have some good advice to give you." — 
 " No, no, I want it at once." Upon this the Duke 
 turned away, and after drumming some time on the 
 window turned round and came towards the King. 
 "Well, have you thought of something?" — "Yes." 
 — " What then ought we to do ? " — " Nothing." 
 "What, nothing?" — "Yes, nothing. If you do 
 nothing at all and appear quite indifferent, no one 
 will think anything of the Prince, or help him, and 
 in three months he will be reduced to sue for terms. 
 But if you show your anxiety and your eagerness to 
 get him back, he will be thought much of, and 
 assisted with money. Many will be ready to sup- 
 port him to spite you, who, if you disregard him, 
 will take no notice of him." 
 
 Sully's good advice did not suit the excited mood 
 of the King. Messengers were despatched in every 
 direction to intercept the Prince if possible, and as 
 there was no doubt that he must at least pass 
 through the Netherlands, a special envoy was sent
 
 442 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 denouncing him as a traitor and enemy to the public 
 peace and asking the Archdukes to permit his arrest, 
 or at least not to grant him a refuge in their domin- 
 ions. No incident could have been less to the taste 
 of the Infanta and her husband. They were sincerely 
 desirous of peace and anxious to give no offence to 
 their powerful neighbour, and it must be allowed 
 that their conduct in the whole affair was conciliatory 
 as well as dignified and honourable. Archduke 
 Albert said that Conde had asked his permission to 
 travel through his dominions with his wife, in order 
 that they might visit their sister the Princess of 
 Orange, that he could not violate the safe conduct 
 he had given, but that the Prince would not be 
 allowed to remain in the country. 
 
 Cond6 thought it more prudent to send his wife 
 on alone to Brussels, where she lived in the palace 
 of the Prince of Orange, while he himself hurried to 
 Cologne. It was only after Henry had asked the 
 Archduke to use his influence to persuade his cousin 
 to return to France, that he was permitted to come 
 to Brussels, where his hosts did their utmost to effect 
 a reconciliation between him and the King. Spinola 
 and the Spanish ambassador were less nervous about 
 offending the King of France, more desirous of re- 
 taining such an instrument of annoyance against him 
 as Conde was likely to prove. For although his 
 personal qualities were below mediocrity, he was the 
 first Prince of the Blood and next in the succession 
 to the King's children, and he bore a name which 
 could not but endear him to the Protestants. If 
 Henry persisted in his hostile projects against Spain,
 
 16101 Preparations for War. 443 
 
 Conde might be used to excite troubles in France, 
 while in the event of negotiations his extradition 
 was a concession which costing Uttle might be dearly 
 sold. He was accordingly encouraged to hurry 
 secretly to Milan, where he was sumptuously enter- 
 tained in the Ducal palace. 
 
 Before leaving Brussels the Prince had seen his 
 wife safely lodged under the roof of the Archdukes. 
 A plot for her escape concerted before his departure 
 between her and the emissaries of her royal lover had 
 been betrayed by Henry's inability to conceal his 
 joyous anticipations. His disappointment when, 
 after leaving Paris with four coaches, he met on the 
 road from Flanders (February 15, 1610), not his 
 nymph, but a messenger who brought the news of 
 failure, was even greater and more open. '* I am so 
 shrunk with my worries," he wrote to one of his 
 agents at Brussels, " that I am nothing but skin and 
 bones. Everything disgusts me. I fly society, and 
 if out of civility I allow myself to be led into any 
 company my wretchedness is completed." 
 
 Although she was treated with extreme kindness 
 by the Infanta neither Spanish devotion nor etiquette 
 were to the taste of Charlotte de Montmorency. 
 Her French attendants were gained by the King 
 and enlarged on the triumph and glories of which 
 she was deprived by her husband's jealousy. She 
 stimulated the impatience and passion of her royal 
 lover by her complaints and by the tenderness of 
 her replies to his letters. The Constable repeatedly 
 wrote, as he was instructed, to the Archdukes, beg- 
 ging them to allow his daughter to return to him.
 
 444 Henry of Navarre. 11609 
 
 They replied that they had promised the Prince to 
 watch over his wife until he could return to claim 
 her, and that they might not with honour break their 
 word. They refused to entertain Father Cotton's 
 suggestion that they might connive at her escape, — 
 a persistence most creditable to them, for Cond6 had 
 not impressed them favourably and they were un- 
 feignedly anxious to do nothing which might lead 
 to a war with France. Henry IV. and his ministers 
 did their utmost to persuade them that peace was 
 impossible unless Charlotte de Montmorency was 
 given up to her father. " The repose of Europe 
 rests in your master's hands," said President Jeannin 
 to the ambassador of the Archduke. " Peace and 
 war depend on whether the Princess is or is not 
 given up. Everything else is immaterial " ; while 
 the King reminded him that Troy fell because Priam 
 would not send Helen back. 
 
 It would be a dark blot on the fame of Henry of 
 Bourbon were it true that he was prepared to begin 
 a war which was likely to extend its ravages into 
 every part of Europe, not in order that he might 
 humble a power which had persistently pursued the 
 ruin of France, which had incited her nobles to 
 treason, her mobs to revolution, which had placed 
 the dagger in the hands of numberless assassins, a 
 power whose policy was identified with intolerance 
 and persecution ; not in order that he might roll 
 back the wave of bigotry and oppression that threat- 
 ened to sweep over Germany ; not in order that he 
 might consolidate the power of France by uniting 
 under his sceptre the whole French-speaking race ;
 
 1610] Preparations for War. 445 
 
 but only in order that he might gratify a senile and 
 adulterous passion. But we are glad to know that 
 twelve years of persevering negotiations and care- 
 fully prepared alliances prove that this was not so. 
 The episode of the Princess of Conde discredited the 
 King, disturbed his serenity of mind, distracted his 
 judgment at a time when the great enterprise, which 
 he was about to take in hand, required that he 
 should be in full possession of all the powers of his 
 intellect, but it had little influence on the course of 
 events. The King and his ministers used the large 
 forces assembled for quite a different purpose, as a 
 bugbear to frighten the Archdukes. But when they 
 refused to purchase security by a compliance incon- 
 sistent with their honour, it was not on Brussels that 
 the French armies prepared to march. On the con- 
 trary, four days before his death (May 10, 1610), the 
 King in the most friendly terms asked the Archduke 
 Albert's permission to lead his army across his 
 territory to the assistance of his German allies ; a 
 permission granted by the Archduke, notwithstand- 
 ing the opposition of Spinola and of the Spanish 
 party in his Council. 
 
 On the 1st April (1610) the Spanish ambassador, 
 Don Inigo de Cardenas, demanded an audience of 
 the King to inquire into the object of his armaments 
 and warlike preparation ; since they were far more 
 extensive than was consistent with their avowed 
 object, the expulsion of the Archduke Leopold from 
 Juliers. If they were directed against the Nether- 
 lands, his master considered the interests of his 
 sister his own. Henry in reply commended the
 
 446 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 loving care of Philip III. for one so near him in 
 blood ; but added that it was a pity the King of 
 Spain had so much superfluous charity left to bestow 
 on other people's relatives. If such a rebel as Conde 
 had fled from Spain into France, he would soon have 
 sent him back. Then warming to his theme, he 
 complained of the part played by Spain in the con- 
 spiracies of Biron, of the Entragues, and whenever 
 else there was an opportunity of doing him an in- 
 jury. As for the Archdukes, it was true they had at 
 first appeared willing to act the part of friendly 
 neighbours, but they too had changed their tone in 
 obedience to orders received from the Escurial. 
 Don Inigo after pointing out in reply that Henry 
 had helped the Dutch and shown his ill-will to the 
 Spaniards in many other ways, asked categorically 
 whether it was against the King his master that so 
 powerful an army was assembled. " I arm myself 
 and my country," said the King, " to protect myself, 
 and I have taken my sword in hand to strike those 
 who shall give me cause." — " What then shall I tell 
 my master? " — " Whatever you please." 
 
 Thirty thousand infantry, six thousand cavalry were 
 collecting at Chalons and the King had proclaimed 
 his intention of himself leading them to the Rhine, 
 where, according to a treaty concluded at Hall (Jan- 
 uary, 1610), the Princes of the Protestant Union had 
 promised to place 10,000 men under his orders. 
 The Dutch and the King of England were now, as 
 has been noticed, disposed to hang back, but it was 
 hoped that the persuasion of Prince Henry of Wales, 
 who dreamt of laurels to be gathered under the
 
 teiO] Preparations for War. 447 
 
 auspices of the victor of Coutras and Ivry, and the 
 authority of Maurice of Nassau would prevail. Fif- 
 teen thousand men under Lesdigui^res were waiting 
 in Dauphiny to join the army of the Marshal's old 
 opponent, the Duke of Savoy, in the invasion of 
 Lombardy, and although the Marquis of Mantua 
 was the only other Italian Prince who had promised 
 active co-operation, it was expected that certainly 
 Venice, and possibly the Pope, would be tempted by 
 the prospect of large and easy territorial aggrandise- 
 ment to join in the attack on Spain. The avowed 
 intention of the French King to procure the election 
 of the zealously orthodox Duke of Bavaria as King 
 of the Romans, might convince the Holy Father 
 that he did not aim at the ruin of the Church either 
 in Germany or elsewhere. 
 
 Ten thousand men commanded by the Marquis of 
 La Force were expecting orders to cross the Pyre- 
 nees and to assist the Moriscos of Aragon and Cata- 
 lonia, who were being driven towards the frontier, to 
 recover and defend their homes. It was thought 
 that the Spanish nobility who loudly protested 
 against the persecution of their vassals, would, if 
 they did not help, at least not resist the invaders. 
 If this diversion did not suf^ce to prevent Philip III. 
 from sending reinforcements to Italy and assisting 
 his Austrian cousins, a larger army under the Duke 
 of Montbazon might invade Spain by St. Sebastian 
 and the west. 
 
 Henry IV. and his advisers had left little undone 
 which might command success against enemies al- 
 ready half overthrown by their own errors and divi-
 
 44^ H^cnry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 sions, yet he appeared to have lost his joyous elasticity 
 of spirits. He, whose cheerful countenance, whose 
 serene and gay intrepidity and hopeful self-reliance 
 had inspired his followers with confidence whatever 
 the odds they faced, did not himself now share the 
 enthusiasm with which his officers and soldiers were 
 preparing for a campaign in which victory seemed 
 easy. Those about him complained that he had 
 become morose and irritable, and lamented that he 
 should be thus changed by the violence of his pas- 
 sion for the Princess of Conde. He himself, as we 
 have seen, attiibuted his melancholy to this cause. 
 But he had other and juster reasons for disquiet. 
 He was too humane and had too deep a sense of the 
 value of peace to begin so great a war with a light 
 heart. When he had drawn the sword before, it had 
 been in self-defence ; but now he was the aggressor, 
 it was he that would have to render an account for 
 the bloodshed and misery to come. Besides he had 
 too much experience not to know thai; the most care- 
 ful precautions, the most artful combinations avail 
 nothing against the insolent caprice of fortune. The 
 success of his plans, everything, depended on his life. 
 The thrust of a lance, a stray bullet might, at the 
 very moment of victory, prove more disastrous to 
 the cause than the most ruinous defeat. He had 
 dark forebodings that his life might be cut short 
 even before he had met the enemy. The conviction 
 was very general that Spain would not forego the 
 use of her wonted weapon against so dangerous an 
 opponent. The murder of the King of France was 
 reported in several parts of Europe before it had
 
 1610] Preparations /or War. 449 
 
 actually taken place. The Jesuit preachers and 
 others had again begun their incendiary sermons. 
 Popular alarm and indignation were excited by the 
 usual lies. The Huguenots had plotted a general 
 rising and massacre of the Catholics. The conspiracy 
 had been detected, but the King would not allow the 
 guilty to be punished. He was himself about to 
 attack the Pope and to bring him in chains to Paris, 
 to help the German heretics to root out the orthodox 
 remnant in the Empire. Why else were all his armies 
 commanded by Huguenots, Lesdiguieres, Bouillon, 
 La Force, Crequi, Rohan? 
 
 These were the methods, so Henry IV. remarked 
 on a previous occasion, by which the day of the bar- 
 ricades and the assassination of the late King had 
 been brought about, yet he treated such direct in- 
 centives to sedition with a leniency which under the 
 circumstances was certainly culpable. Meeting one 
 day a Jesuit who had preached in his presence with 
 the utmost violence against heretics, and their 
 scarcely less guilty protectors, who, he protested, 
 ought not to be permitted to live, Henry said, " Well, 
 Father, won't you pray to God for us?" — "How 
 can we pray to God for you. Sire, when you are 
 going into an heretical country to exterminate the 
 handful of Catholics left." Instead of being angry 
 the King turned away and laughed, " Zeal has 
 turned the poor man's head." It was zeal such as 
 this which placed the knife in Ravaillac's hand. 
 
 The misgivings of the King were intensified by the 
 
 warnings of Villeroy and Jeannin and of others of 
 
 his Council, who were either honestly averse to ? 
 29
 
 450 Henry of Navarre. [1609^ 
 
 war with Spain or opposed to a policy supported 
 by their rivals. In addition to these causes of 
 disquiet he was plagued by the lamentations and 
 importunities of his wife. Her disappointment that 
 the King would not entertain the project of an 
 alliance with Spain, the soreness which, however ac- 
 customed to his ostentatious infidelity, she could 
 not but feel at his preposterous passion for the 
 Princess of Conde, scarcely needed to be in- 
 flamed by the malice of Leonora Galigai, and 
 Concini, to produce domestic storms very displeas- 
 ing to Henry, who wished to be surrounded by con- 
 tented faces. He tried to propitiate his wife by 
 appointing her Regent during his absence, and by 
 granting her desire to be solemnly anointed and 
 crowned Queen of France. A ceremony which 
 would add to the security and dignity of her posi- 
 tion and make her claim to the Regency in the 
 event of the King's death more indisputable. Henry 
 did not make this last concession very readily. The 
 Queen's coronation delayed his departure to the 
 army and the opening of the campaign three weeks 
 (till May 19th), and cost much money at a time when 
 there were more serious demands on the treasury. 
 Moreover he could not shake off the foreboding of 
 some evil which might happen to himself, intensified 
 by an impression that he would die in a carriage and 
 at some public ceremony. 
 
 On the 20th March the King signed the ordinance 
 which appointed the Queen Regent and nominated 
 the Council of Fifteen by whose advice she was to act. 
 The most important members were the Cardinals Joy-
 
 1610] Assassi7iation of the King. 45 1 
 
 euse and Du Perron, the Duke of Mayenne, and Mar- 
 shal Brissac, of the Barricades. By placing the leaders 
 of the Catholic party in the Council of Regency, 
 Henry apparently sought to remove the bad im- 
 pression made on the orthodox by the high military 
 commands bestowed on heretics. He was no doubt 
 confident that the dread of displeasing a victorious 
 sovereign would secure the co-operation of the 
 Council in his policy, however distasteful to them. 
 Mayenne, moreover, had given repeated proofs of 
 loyalty and did not appear to be implicated in the 
 intrigues, by which the younger members of his 
 family had lately annoyed the King, 
 
 On May 13th the Queen was crowned with great 
 splendour at St. Denis. On the i6th she was to 
 make a state progress through the streets of Paris. 
 On the 19th her husband was to leave the capital to 
 take the command of the well-equipped army of 
 35,000 men assembled since April at Chalons. 
 
 It was not yet known whether the Archdukes 
 would allow the French to cross their territory as 
 friends. Henry perhaps hoped that they would not. 
 Whatever its discipline and valour, the small army 
 under the orders of Spinola at Namur could scarcely 
 be a match for his superior forces, and if it were 
 defeated the Netherlands would be at his mercy. 
 A few thousand men would sufifice to drive the 
 Archduke Leopold out of Juliers, and it is uncertain 
 what use he intended to make of his army if Arch- 
 duke Albert gave him no pretext for commencing 
 hostilities. Perhaps he himself hardly knew in what 
 direction the most decisive blow might be struck,
 
 452 Henry of Navarre. [1609- 
 
 and meant to be guided by events and by the action 
 of his opponents. 
 
 On the morning after the Queen's coronation 
 Henry was restless and anxious. " When I am no 
 more," he said to the Duke of Guise and others 
 standing by, " you will know what you have lost." 
 After dinner he threw himself on his bed, but could 
 not sleep. He then thought he would visit Sully, 
 who was unwell at the Arsenal. Once or twice he 
 left the room, but came back, saying to the Queen, 
 "My dear, shall I go?" She, seeing him so unde- 
 cided, begged him to stay, but at last he made up 
 his mind, kissed her and went. 
 
 He got into his coach with the Dukes of Epernon 
 and Montbazon, the Marquis of La Force, and four 
 other gentlemen. Dismissmg"~the captain of his 
 guards he started for the Arsenal escorted only by 
 some footmen, who ran or walked with the carriage, 
 one of the clumsy conveyances then used, something 
 between a cart and a four-post bed with leather cur- 
 tains on wheels. As they turned out of the Rue St. 
 Honor^ into the Rue de la Ferronerie, a narrow lane 
 running along one of the sides of the Cemetery of 
 the Innocents, the footmen made a cut across the 
 cemetery to meet the carriage at the other end of 
 the street. A little way down the Rue de la Fer- 
 ronerie the King's coach was obliged to draw close 
 up to the side and then to stop in passing two carts. 
 As it stopped a man jumped on one of the hind 
 wheels, leant over into the carriage and plunged a 
 knife twice into the breast of the King who was 
 leaning forward with his arm round Epernon's
 
 1610] Assassination of the King. 453 
 
 shoulder. Henry scarcely uttered a cry ; the second 
 blow severed one of the large arteries close to the 
 heart. A gentleman was about to run his sword 
 into the assassin, who stood, knife in hand, as if 
 astonished at what he had done and making no 
 attempt to escape, but Epernon forbade him on his 
 life to hurt the man, whom the King's attendants 
 protected from the fury of the collecting crowd. 
 The curtains of the coach were drawn, "the people 
 were told that the King was only wounded and his 
 lifeless body was carried back to the Louvre. 
 
 In a second the knife of a mad fanatic had altered 
 the course of the world's history. Had Henry IV. 
 prospered in the undertaking he meditated, and 
 assuredly the chances were much in his favour, Ger- 
 many would have been spared the horrors of the 
 Thirty Years' War, the ruin of her material prosper- 
 ity, the paralysis for a time of all intellectual energy 
 and growth. Protestantism would have become 
 predominant, or at least would not have been 
 crushed, in Hungary and Bohemia and other Aus- 
 trian dominions. The House of Savoy would have 
 founded an Italian kingdom two centuries and a 
 half before the time when an allied French and 
 Piedmontese army drove the Austrians out of Lom- 
 bardy. Yet we must not forget that the triumph of 
 Henry IV. would have raised France to a pre- 
 eminence such as that to which she attained during 
 the first years of the present century. Henry of 
 Bourbon, no doubt, would not have used his power 
 in the same fashion as Napoleon Buonaparte. But 
 who could answer for his successors? Would it
 
 454 Henry of Navar^'e. [1609- 
 
 have been well for the independence of European 
 nationalities, for progress and liberty, had the ambi- 
 tious egotism of a Lewis XIV. been able without 
 fear of resistance to determine the destinies of 
 Europe. France herself might have perished like 
 Spain, exhausted by the despotism which drew from 
 her the strength to enslave others. But it is as un- 
 profitable as it is easy to speculate on what might 
 have been, had things not been as they were. 
 
 No French king was ever more deeply and gener- 
 ally lamented than " the Bearnese." Eye-witnesses 
 wrote that it was impossible to describe the grief 
 and tears of the Parisians. " What will become of 
 you ? " men were heard to say to their children, 
 *' you have lost your father ! " 
 
 In the provinces the country-people gathered along 
 the highways in anxious crowds to ask travellers 
 whether the King indeed was dead ? When assured 
 that this was so they dispersed grief-stricken and 
 with frantic lamentations to their houses. Some of 
 the educated classes, like De Vic, the Governor of 
 Dieppe, took to their beds and died of grief, A 
 touching tribute to the King's memory was offered 
 by the mob, who received the Protestants on their 
 way to service at Charenton not with the usual in- 
 sults, but with demonstrations of affection and 
 respect. 
 
 The Queen, who by the loss of her faithless hus- 
 band, had become the first person in the State, and 
 who could now indulge unchecked her fondness for 
 her unworthy favourites, those favourites themselves, 
 the partisans of Spain, the great nobles who looked
 
 w 
 
 OEATH MASK TAKEN FROM FACE OF HENRY IV.
 
 1610] Assassination of the Kiiig. 455 
 
 forward with joyful anticipation to a weak and 
 divided Regency, — all these had gained too much by 
 the King's death for it to be believed that they sin- 
 cerely lamented him. It was natural, therefore, that 
 in an agfe fertile in such crimes, it should have been 
 reported that his murderer was merely the tool of 
 others, a weapon wrought and fashioned to take a 
 life like Jacques Clement and Balthazar Gerard, 
 
 The Queen and the Concinis, the Jesuits and 
 Spain, Epernon and Madame de Verneuil have been 
 severally accused of having at least been privy to 
 the murder of Henry IV. Some historians like 
 M. Michelet appear to think that all the powers of 
 darkness were leagued together to quench the light of 
 France. Yet it seems scarcely possible to condemn 
 the mistress and not to absolve the wife, and if, as 
 Voltaire remarks, Ravaillac was incited to kill the 
 King by the Spaniards at Naples, he was not sub- 
 orned by Epernon at Angouleme. 
 
 But all such suppositions are at variance with the 
 account which the assassin gave of himself and of 
 his motives ; an account which was plain and consis- 
 tent, corroborated by independent evidence, never 
 shaken by the most painful bodily and mental tor- 
 tures, and which entirely negatives the assumption 
 that Ravaillac was the instrument of others or even 
 that he had accomplices. 
 
 Francis Ravaillac had entered a convent of Ber- 
 nardins, but at the end of his noviciate was rejected 
 on account of his fantastic and extravagant conduct. 
 He next attempted to gain his living as a school- 
 master at his native Angouleme, but a gloomy and
 
 45 6 Henry of Navarre. [1609 
 
 forbidding exterior, a visionary and disordered in- 
 tellect were not likely to recommend him as an 
 instructor of youth ; and he was more than once 
 imprisoned for debt. 
 
 The shrill hysterical rhetoric of the preachers who 
 continued the traditions of the League, their fierce 
 denunciations of heresy and of the King who allowed 
 the accursed thing to remain in the midst of his 
 people to draw down God's judgment upon them, 
 the casuistic subtleties of the books, which justified 
 means by ends, and taught that it was better that one 
 man should suffer than the people perish, wrought 
 upon the distempered imagination of the starving 
 enthusiast. His existence was perhaps wretched, yet 
 life is life, and that devotion is respectable, however 
 mistaken, which is prepared to sacrifice existence for 
 the supposed good of others. Nor did Ravaillac wish 
 to shed blood unnecessarily. Before he killed the 
 King he determined to warn him of the errors of his 
 ways, to give him room for amendment. If he could 
 persuade him to abandon his heretical allies and to 
 exterminate his heretical subjects, all would be well. 
 For a whole month the fanatic sought in vain to 
 obtain an interview (Christmas, 1609). Then he left 
 Paris and returned to Angouleme. Before Easter 
 he was back again in the capital, so poor that he 
 was obliged to steal the knife with which he hoped 
 to slay the enemy of true religion. 
 
 Yet again doubts and scruples arose. He broke 
 off the point of his knife and set out once more for 
 Angouleme. As he knelt at Etampes before a cruci- 
 fix, the wounds and sorrow of the Redeemer seemed
 
 16101 Assassination of the King. 457 
 
 to reproach him for indifference to the sufferings of 
 Christ's Church. He heard moreover that the King 
 was about to attack God in the person of his Vicar. 
 Hesitation now gave place to a firm resolve ; he 
 repointed his knife upon a stone, turned his face 
 towards Paris and watched with dogged determina- 
 tion for an opportunity to kill the tyrant, for he had 
 learnt in his books, that the prince is a tyrant who 
 refuses obedience to the Church and leagues him- 
 self with the unrighteous against God's people. 
 
 That he had no accomplices he persisted in assert- 
 ing under the most horrible torments and at the 
 moment of his death, when his confessor threatened 
 him, unless he spoke the truth, with the most certain 
 pains of hell. And if he had accomplices would he 
 have been reduced to stealing the knife wherewith 
 to execute his purpose? He was equally positive 
 that he had not been encouraged or instigated to 
 murder the King by anybody or anything, except 
 the sermons he had heard and the books he had 
 read. He had expected all good Catholics to sym- 
 pathise with him and to bless him for what he 
 had done. Perhaps he remembered the images of 
 Jacques Clement, exalted on the altars and vener- 
 ated with honours almost divine. He was amazed 
 and distressed by the howls of execration with 
 which his appearance was greeted, by the frantic 
 efforts of the mob to snatch him from his guards 
 and to tear him limb from limb, by the yells and 
 curses which answered the request of his confessor, 
 that the people should pray for him while he suf- 
 fered his barbarous doom.
 
 45 8 Heniy of Navarre. [i609- 
 
 The despair of all patriots, the scarcely dissembled 
 satisfaction of the domestic and foreign enemies of 
 France at the King's death are a convincing proof 
 of his greatness. We may find another in the 
 almost enthusiastic admiration felt for him by many 
 of those who lived in his intimacy, even when they 
 were severe censors of his failings. Aubigne was a 
 caustic, often an ungenerous critic of a prince who, 
 he believed, had failed fully to appreciate his own 
 transcendant merits, but after relating an instance of 
 Henry's frank magnanimity, he exclaims in a tone of 
 the sincerest conviction : " Such was the King our 
 master, if he had his faults he had also sublime vir 
 tues." And this evidence has all the more weight 
 because many of Henry's weaknesses and shortcom- 
 ings were of the kind which most prevent a man 
 from appearing heroic to those about him. He in- 
 herited from his spendthrift father Antony of Bour- 
 bon, whose attendants sent back each evening the 
 articles he had pilfered during the day, that unrea- 
 soning delight in small gains of which such klep- 
 tomania appears to be the exaggeration. This 
 tendency made him mean in small matters, greedy 
 of winning in the games of chance to which he was 
 addicted, and out of temper when he lost. 
 
 His sensuality was, as we have seen, unbridled and 
 not over nice in the gratification it demanded. A 
 liking for coarse food highly spiced and redolent of 
 garlic, for heavy perfumes and full-bodied wines, a 
 neglect of personal cleanliness, remarkable even in 
 the 17th century, may be explained by the circum- 
 stances of a life spent in the saddle and under arms,
 
 1610] Assassination of the King. 459 
 
 but contrasted with the more refined luxury of his 
 predecessor, and indicate a coarseness of material 
 and moral perception, which sometimes betrayed it- 
 self in a want of tact, remarkable in a man of ready 
 sympathy and of warm, though superficial and 
 transient, emotions. 
 
 Yet it is not strange that, in spite of all, he should 
 have exercised great personal fascination over those 
 who approached him, since even we, who are unin- 
 fluenced by personal contact with so rich and 
 vigorous a nature, fall to some extent under the 
 charm of his unflagging energy, his boundless good 
 _temper, his unfeigned humanity. He gained much 
 popularity by the frankness with which he treated 
 his friends and his enemies, by the ostentatious 
 openness of his dealings both public and private. 
 He was not, he boasted, one of those princes who 
 had not sufficient virtue to be relieved from the 
 necessity of concealing their faults. 
 
 Insensible to adulation himself, he excelled in the 
 _a^rt of flattering others. Whether writing with his 
 own hand to the newly chosen mayor of some 
 provincial town, or begging Beza to continue his 
 fatherly admonitions ; or assuring the old Marshal 
 that young Biron is as dear to him as a brother, and 
 that it inay be said of them like master, like man ; 
 or addressing some companion in arms in a tone of 
 military comradeship, his letters are models of skilful 
 flattery. He never forgets to court his friends by 
 small and cheap attentions. He ofl'ers his own 
 doctor to Segur, and regrets that his many afl"airs 
 prevent him from coming himself to help in nursing
 
 460 Henry of Navarre. [I609- 
 
 him ; he will bring one or two cheerful companions 
 to dine with another invalid. When he thinks that 
 it will be acceptable, the dose of compliment is open 
 and undisguised ; he seems to be ever on his knees 
 before Queen Elizabeth, "kissing humbly," as he 
 says, "the fair and fortunate hands which hold for 
 him the keys of good and evil fate." He is unspar- 
 ing of protestations of affection : " Be assured that 
 I am your best friend, the best master you could 
 ever have." He is prodigal of expressions of grati- 
 tude and vague promises. Often full of regrets 
 when, like the brother of Du Plessis-Mornay, his 
 servants die at the very moment when he was going 
 to do something great for them. Mornay himself 
 must not imagine that he will permit him to be 
 ruined in his service — " I am too good a master." 
 If he is told that his friends are discontented, 
 he assures them that he closes his ears to such 
 calumnies. 
 
 How far was he consciously insincere? It is not 
 easy to answer this question in the case of a man of 
 such vivacity, so susceptible of the feeling of the 
 moment. He probably felt at the time what he 
 expressed so warmly and so naturally. Yet he him- 
 self allowed that he often meant to deceive. " Nc' 
 cessity," he said, " compels me to say now this, now 
 that." It is certain that he hated Epernon, and 
 with good reason, yet he \/rites to him in a tone of 
 cordial friendship, and he assures Matignon that he 
 had never made any complaint of his conduct, a few 
 days after filling a letter to Henry III. with charges 
 against him. Nevertheless, tried by the standard of
 
 1610] Assassination of the King. 461 
 
 those times — compared, for instance, with Philip II. 
 or Elizabeth of England — we must allow Henry the 
 praise of having been straightforward and honourable 
 in word and deed. Much of the impression of in- 
 sincerity and double-dealing often left upon us, is 
 perhaps due to the contrast presented by his violent 
 though fleeting passions and emotions, to his cold 
 heart and patient, persevering ambition. 
 
 His apparent incapacity to conceal his feelings — 
 he often turned pale and showed great agitation, his 
 tears flowed readily — was of service to him. Few 
 suspected how cool and calculating a politician was 
 hidden under the exterior of the blunt, outspoken 
 soldier and sportsman, of the genial man of pleasure. 
 And when occasion required, Henry was not incapa- 
 ble of self-control. J. A. De Thou tells in his 
 memoirs how, when during the siege of Rouen, 
 Marshal Biron had complained of some mistake 
 made by Crillon, the " brave Crillon," a gallant 
 ofificer, but a licenced and extravagant braggart, 
 came to the King's quarters to excuse himself. His 
 excuses soon became argumentative, then passion 
 and blasphemies took the place of argument. At 
 length the King told him to leave the room, yet he 
 constantly reappeared, while Biron, sitting on a 
 chest, pretended to be asleep and not to hear the 
 insults, " mangy hound " and the like, shouted into 
 his ear. Henry changed colour with impatience and 
 anger, yet restrained himself. After Crillon at 
 length was gone, he turned to De Thou and others 
 who were marvelling at his patience. " Nature," he 
 said, " made me hot-tempered, but anger is a bad
 
 462 Henry of Navarre. 11609- 
 
 counsellor, and since I have known myself I have 
 always been on my guard against so dangerous a 
 passion." 
 
 Passionate he may have been by nature, but cer- 
 tainly no man was ever less resentful. Michelet 
 perhaps is partly right when he speaks of the un- 
 fathomable depth of indifference to all things, which 
 lay at the root of Henry's character. Such indiffer- 
 ence would account for the fact that he does not 
 appear to have been jealous of even his best loved 
 mistresses. Bellegarde was more than suspected of 
 having been the lover both of Gabrielle and of 
 Henriette, and of even having dared to court the 
 Queen, yet he never lost his master's favour. The 
 same indifference may explain his extraordinary 
 placability, " his patience in bearing reproof and his 
 invincible hardness of heart." Not only during the 
 earlier part of his life did he bear the rebukes of the 
 Calvinist ministers, and even do public penance at 
 their bidding, but when King of France he listened 
 not less patiently to the admonitions of more ortho- 
 dox preachers. No solicitations of Madame de 
 Verneuil could induce him to punish a Jesuit, who 
 had reproached him for coming to hear God's word 
 surrounded by his harem. Next day he went to 
 hear the same Father and thanked him for his 
 reproofs, only begging him to administer them more 
 privately in future. 
 
 It is perhaps not fanciful to trace some of the 
 features of the character of Henry IV. in that of his 
 grandson, Charles II. of England. In both we find 
 the same profligacy, the same low estimate of men,
 
 1610] Assassmaiioii of the King. 463 
 
 the same dislike of seeing what is unpleasant, the 
 same desire to be surrounded by contented faces, the 
 same physical good nature which since it expected 
 nothing was incapable of righteous indignation on 
 finding nothing. Yet Henry's rea diness to forgive, 
 may more charitably be deduced from what was 
 perhaps his most excellent quality, his unaffected 
 humanity. No commander of the time was more 
 anxious to provide for the comfort of his men, to 
 mitigate the sufferings of his enemies. No King 
 was more sincerely anxious to make the life of his 
 poorer subjects less miserable. Again and again he 
 warns magistrates not to inflict unduly severe punish- 
 ments. Twice he flogged the Dauphin with his own 
 hand, once for cutting off the head of a sparrow, and 
 ag-ain for wishing that some one would kill an atten- 
 dant who had displeased him. No faults were so 
 unpardonable in his eyes as cruelty and vindictive- 
 ness. 
 
 Though experience had taught him to expect little 
 from mankind he was not incapable of recognising 
 and admiring merit and virtue. He was not, wrote 
 Du Plessis-Mornay, one of those princes born in the 
 purple and cradled in a Court, the predestined prey 
 of sycophants, who can know of men only what they 
 are told, but on the contrary was as well able as any 
 in his kingdom to judge of the character and of the 
 deserts of those about him. He used to say, that 
 though shamefully betrayed by many he had been 
 deceived by few. 
 
 But we must beware lest in the endeavour to 
 enumerate and to balance the failings and frailties,
 
 464 Henry of Navarre. L1610. 
 
 the merits and virtues of such a man, we lose all true 
 appreciation of him as a whole, and so form a judg- 
 ment less just than that embodied in the traditional 
 view of his character. 
 
 There was that about him which, whatever he did, 
 prevented him from appearing mean or hateful, and 
 it is not without reason that of all the Kings who 
 have occupied the French throne, Henry of Navarre 
 still retains the first place in the memory and affec- 
 tion of his people. 
 
 There have been many better men than Henry 
 IV., greater statesmen, more consummate generals, 
 but few men have appeared on the stage of history 
 better equipped for their allotted part. The defects 
 in his character were numerous and patent. He was 
 no Caesar — not a man whose very failings bear the 
 impress of greatness, of something above the ordi- 
 nary standard of humanity — still less was he a flawless 
 hero, a Marcus Aurelius, an Alfred, or a St. Lewis. 
 The life of such men, like a Greek tragedy, main- 
 tains throughout the same lofty and measured dig- 
 nity. The life of Henry of Bourbon may rather be 
 likened to an Elizabethan drama, interspersed with 
 incongruities, with scenes of comedy, and even of 
 low buffoonery, but perhaps for that very reason 
 touching more nearly our human sympathies. 
 
 THE END.
 
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 INDEX. 
 
 Acadia, 358 
 
 Achmet, Sultan, 415 
 
 Agen, 118, 379 
 
 Aix, Parliament of, 27 
 
 Alava, 61 
 
 Albert, the Cardinal-Archduke, 
 310, 322 et seq., 326, 424, 432, 
 442 et seq., 451 
 
 Albret, see Henry of, and Jane 
 of. 
 
 Alen9on, 108 
 
 Alen9on, Francis, Duke of (after- 
 wards Duke of Anjou), his 
 character, 92 ; watched by his 
 mother, loi ; escapes and 
 heads the rebels, 105, 108 ; 
 concludes peace with the Court, 
 109 ; opinion of the Protestants, 
 117 ; mischief making at Pau, 
 133 ; death, 138 ; gave Cam- 
 bray to Balagny, 304 
 
 Amiens, 286, 287, 317 ; siege of, 
 319 et seq. 
 
 Amyot, 377 
 
 Angouleme, 455 
 
 Angouleme, Duke of, 79 
 
 Anhalt, Prince Christian of, 236, 
 430 
 
 Anjou, Duke of, see Henry HI., 
 and Alen9on. 
 
 Anjou, House of, 16 
 
 Antony of Bourbon, King of 
 Navarre, in the power of the 
 
 Guises, 21 ; his influence at 
 Court, 29 ; changes sides, 33 ; 
 reproaches Beza, 35 ; killed 
 before Rouen, 41 ; his charac- 
 ter, 44 ; married to Jane of 
 Albret, 48 ; a Protestant, 51 ; 
 reverts to Catholicism, 52 
 
 Antwerp, 150, 423 
 
 Arbaleste, Charlotte, Mme. Du 
 Plessis-Mornay, 121 
 
 Arques, battle of, 199 
 
 Armada, the Invincible, 163, 224 
 
 Arnauld, Antoine, 296 
 
 Arras, 317 
 
 Artois, 190, 299, 413 
 
 Aubigne, 90, 106, 107, 133, 135, 
 136, 157, 175, 200, 221, 259, 
 330, 377, 382, 410, 425 
 
 Auch, 129 
 
 Augsburg, Peace of, 428 
 
 Aumale, Duke of, 90 
 
 Aumont, Marshal, 195, 197, 200, 
 209 
 
 Auneau, 159 
 
 Auvergne, 216, 379 
 
 Auvergne, Count of, 389, 403, 
 407, 409, 417, 419 et seq. 
 
 Avignon, 105 
 
 B 
 
 Balagny, 304 
 
 Balzac, Francis de. Lord of En- 
 
 tragues, 389, 419 et seq. 
 Barneveld, Olden, 414, 432 
 
 v.4^
 
 466 
 
 Indi 
 
 ex. 
 
 Barriere, 267, 284 
 Bassompierre, 437 et scq. 
 Beam, 336 
 Beaufort, Duchess of, see Ga- 
 
 brielle. 
 Beda, 4 
 
 Belin, Count of, 201, 256, 277 
 Bellegarde, 229, 231, 462 
 Bergerac, Peace of, 127 j 
 
 Berquin, Lewis de, 4, 5 
 Beuil, Jacqueline de, 421 ; 
 
 Beza, 35, 51, 55, 145, 259, 459 
 Birago, 77 1 
 
 Biron, Marshal (the elder), 187, ! 
 
 210, 212, 221, 237, 238, 241, 
 
 244, 246, 461 
 Biron, Duke of (the younger), 
 
 244, 299, 300, 319, 322, 374, I 
 
 401 et seq. \ 
 
 Blavet, 327 
 Bouillon, see Turenne. 
 Bourbon, Family of, 44 
 Bourbon, Peter, Duke of, 44 
 Bourbon, Charles, Constable of, 
 
 ib. 
 Bourbon, Charles, Cardinal of, 
 
 138, 141, 145, 191, 204, 217 
 Bourbon, the younger Cardinal 
 
 of, 226 
 Brandenburg, Elector of, 432 
 Bran tome, 8r 
 
 Brissac, 180, 277, 280 ^Vj^^., 451 
 Brittany, 203, 224, 327 
 Burgundian kingdom, 225, 417 
 Burgundy, 286, 297, 299, 402, 
 
 405 
 Bussy d'Amboise, 374 
 
 C 
 
 Caetano, 225 
 
 Cahors, storm of, 130 
 
 Calais, 196, 233, 31 1 et seq., 326, 
 327 
 
 Calvin, his book dedicated to 
 Francis I., 5 ; his doctrine, 6 ; 
 favourable to political liberty, 
 8 ; advocates non-resistance, 
 19 ; his opinion of Antony of 
 Bourbon, 45 
 
 Cambray, 304, 327 
 
 Canada, 358 
 
 Canaillac, 380 
 
 Cardenas, Don Inigo de, 445 
 
 Casaubon, 348, 372 
 
 Cateau-Cambresis, Peace of, 12 
 
 Catherine de' Medici, Regent, 
 21 ; favours the Reformers, 29 ; 
 her character, 30 ; accepts 
 L'Hopital's policy of concilia- 
 tion, 31 ; urges Conde to pro- 
 tect her against the Guises, 36 ; 
 keeps Henry of Navarre at 
 Court, 53 ; her ladies, 54 ; 
 dread of Spanish interference, 
 58, 61 ; alarmed at the influ- 
 ence of Coligny over Charles 
 IX., 73 ; determines his death, 
 75 ; wishes to continue opposi- 
 tion to Spain, 94 ; secures the 
 succession of Henry III., loi ; 
 visits the Court of Navarre, 
 128 ; to make mischief, 129 ; 
 opposed to the Huguenots, 140 ; 
 advises Henry III. to yield to 
 the League, 145 ; intercedes 
 for Guise, 164; dying, 170; 
 trusted La Noue, 237 ; her 
 books, 372 
 
 Catherine of Navarre, 51, 125, 
 134, 227, 229, 387 
 
 Caudebec, 243, 244 
 
 Cecil, 71, 74, 83, 94, 105 
 
 Chaligny, Count of, 90, 241 
 
 Chalons, 286 
 
 Champagne, 286, 287 
 
 Champlain, 357 
 
 Charenton, 218; "Temple" of, 
 
 342, 454 
 Charles IX., besieges St. Jean 
 d'Angely, 57 ; disposed to 
 peace, 58 ; his hatred of Spain, 
 64 ; wishes to marry his sister 
 to Henry of Navarre, 69 ; in- 
 fluenced by Coligny, 73 ; de- 
 sires Queen of England to help 
 Orange, 74 ; anger at the at- 
 tempt against Coligny, 76 ; 
 visits him, 77 ; consent to
 
 Index. 
 
 467 
 
 the massacre extorted by his 
 
 mother, 78 ; his character, 91 ; 
 
 his Government, 99 ; miserable 
 
 death, 100 
 Charles II. of England, 463 
 Charolais, 327 
 Chastel, 296 
 
 Chateauneuf, Mme. de, 90 
 Chatillon, 126, 159, 176, 178, 
 
 199, 203, 238 
 Cherbourg, 107 
 Chicot, 90, 241 
 Chrestien, Florent, 56, 373 
 Clement VIII., 268, 305, 324, 
 
 416 
 Clement, Jacques, 182, 457 
 Cleves, question of succession to, 
 
 431 
 
 Clovis, 274 
 
 Cognac, 59 
 
 Colbert, 125 
 
 Coligny, presents petition from 
 Reformers, 20 ; powerful after 
 the death of Francis II., 21 ; 
 reluctant to begin the war, 36 ; 
 Conde under his influence, 41 ; 
 at Jarnac, 42 ; defeated at 
 Montcontour, 57 ; collects an 
 army in the south, ib. ; anxious 
 for peace, 59 ; invited to Court, 
 62 ; reception there, ib. ; at 
 Henry of Navarre's wedding, 
 70 ; influence over Charles IX. , 
 74 ; attempt on his life, 76 ; 
 death and character, 79 ; patron 
 of Du Plessis-Mornay, I20 
 
 Commines, 113 
 
 Concini, 394, 422, 436, 451, 455 
 
 Conde, Lewis, Prince of, rival of 
 the Guises, 20 ; in their power, 
 21 ; leader of the Huguenots, 
 33 ; offers to raise 50,000 men 
 against the Guises, 35 ; aban- 
 dons Paris and the King, 36 ; 
 his character, 40 ; death at 
 Jarnac, 42 
 
 Conde, Henry, Prince of, 43, 87, 
 98, loi, 108 no, 128, 150, 
 174. 369 
 
 Conde, Henry II., Prince of, 
 333, 378. 439, 440, 442_, 44.3 
 
 Conde, Charlotte de la Tremoille, 
 Princess of, 1 74 
 
 Conde, Charlotte de Montmor- 
 ency, Princess of, 437 ct seq. 
 
 Corbeil, 223 
 
 Corisande, see Grammont. 
 
 Cosse, 62, loi, 109 
 
 Cotton, 410 
 
 Council, the Royal, its composi- 
 tion, 63 ; decides against war 
 with Spain, 74 
 
 Coutras, battle of, 155 
 
 Crillon, 164, 461 
 
 D 
 
 D'Amours, 157, 259 
 Damville, Duke of, 100, 118, 126 
 (after 1579, see Montmorency). 
 Dauphin, the (Lewis XIII.), 50, 
 
 397, 414, 434, 463 
 Dauphiny, 14, 27, 344 
 De Monts, 357 
 De Thou, J. A., 56, 121, 139, 
 
 .334. 363, 369, 372, 461 
 Dieppe, 26, 196 
 Dijon, 14, 286, 299, 300 
 D'O, Francis, 185, 258, 272, 309. 
 
 351 
 
 Dohna, Fabian of, 158 
 
 Dolet, Stephen, 11 
 
 Dombes, Prince of, 224 
 
 Dominicans, 306 
 
 Doria, Carlo, 288 
 
 D'Ossat, Cardinal, 306, 325 
 
 Douai, 322 
 
 Dreux, 206, 255 
 
 Du Bourg, 15 
 
 Du Cliatel, Bishop of Macon, II 
 
 Duelling, 89, 369 
 
 Du Perron, 259, 306, 372, 451 
 
 Du Plessis-Mornay, valor at 
 Eausse, iig ; birth, education, 
 character, \io ct scq. ; mission 
 to Henry III., 136 ; satisfac- 
 tion at death of Guise, advice 
 to Henry of Navarre, 176 ; at
 
 468 
 
 Index. 
 
 Ivry, 207 ; Villeroy attempts 
 to convince him that Henry IV. 
 must conform, 213 ; mission to 
 Queen Elizabeth, 239 ; be- 
 lieves that Henry IV. will not 
 change his religion, 256 ; dis- 
 appointed, 260 ; summoned re- 
 peatedly to Court, 261 ; ill 
 rewarded, 271 ; distrusts the 
 King, 329 ; yet approves of his 
 policy in regard to the Protes- 
 tants, 381 ; and of the Edict of 
 Nantes, 343 ; urges Henry IV. 
 to marry again, 380 
 
 Duprat, 4 
 
 D'Urfe, 438 
 
 Dutch, 73, 97, 140, 142, 150, 
 195, 239, 246, 2go, 299, 312, 
 313, 321, 326, 414, 424, 427, 
 432, 435, 446 
 
 E 
 
 Eausse, I19 
 
 Edict of Fontainebleau(i54o), 14 
 Edict of Chateaubriand (1551), 10 
 Edict of Compiegne (1557), ib. 
 Edict of January (1561), 31 
 Edict of Bergerac (1577), 127 
 Edict of Nantes (1598), 335 
 Egmont, Count of, 206, 211 
 Elizabeth of England, supported 
 by Philip II., r6 ; her vacilla- 
 tion a cause of the massacre of 
 St. Bartholomew, 72 ; dares 
 not quarrel with the French, 
 94 ; plots for her assassination, 
 139 ; urges Henry III. not to 
 submit to the League, 146 ; he 
 desires her advice, 161 ; Jeze- 
 bel, 162 ; vigorously helps 
 Henry IV., 196; blames his 
 humanity during siege of Paris, 
 220 ; sends an army into Brit- 
 tany, 224 ; admired by Sixtus 
 v., 225 ; sends Essex and 6,000 
 men to Normandy, 233 ; angry 
 at loss of her men before 
 Rouen, 239 ; yet sends rein- 
 
 forcements, 242 ; rebukes 
 Henry IV. for apostasy, 265 ; 
 delays to relieve Calais, 312; 
 offensive and defensive treaty 
 between her and Henry V\., 
 313; not very f orw ard in helping 
 to retake Amiens, 320 ; warne'l 
 by Henry IV. that she must 
 make peace, 326 ; recalls hei 
 troops from Brittany, 327 ; 
 warns Biron, 404 ; her death 
 lamented by Henry IV., 413 ; 
 his flattery of her, 460 
 
 English, assist La Rochelle, 97 ; 
 volunteers, 321 
 
 Entragues, see Balzac. 
 
 Eperuon, Duke of, 90, 13S, 140, 
 144, 165, 188, 286, 309, 403, 
 405, 407, 452, 460 
 
 Erasmus, 4 
 
 Ernest, Archduke, 253, 299 
 
 Essex, Earl uf, 233, 236, 239, 
 311, 404, 407 
 
 Errard, 364 
 
 Farnese, Alexander, Duke of 
 Parma, 140, 141, 149, 163, 
 189. 217, 219, 220, 237, 240, 
 242 et sfq., 250 
 
 Ferdinand, Archduke, 430 
 
 Feria, Duke of, 253 et seq., 278, 
 280, 283 
 
 Fleix, Peace of, 132 
 
 Fleurance, 129 
 
 Fontainebleau, 368, 386 
 
 Fontaine Fran9aise, engagement 
 at, 301 
 
 Franche Comte, 190, 290, 297, 
 
 299. 413 
 Francis I., 3, 5, 46, 372 
 Francis II., 18, 21, 50 
 Fuentes, Count of, 303, 311 
 
 G 
 
 Gabrielle d'Estrees, 229 et seq, 
 263, 290, 307, 379 et seq.
 
 Index. 
 
 469 
 
 Geneva, 9, 400 
 
 Germany, 155, 233, 413, 423, 
 
 428 tt Sep., 434, 435 
 Givry, 1S6, 287 
 Gondi, Bishop of Paris, 219 
 Gondi, Count of Retz, 77 
 Grammont, Corisande, Countess 
 
 of, 134, 138, 156, 175, 227 
 Gregory XIV., 225 
 Guise, Francis, Duke of, 17, 35, 
 
 36, 41 
 
 Guise, Henry, Duke of, privy to 
 plot against Coligny, 76, 78 ; 
 superintends his murder, 79 ; 
 affects humanity, 83 ; his char- 
 acter, 92 ; offers to protect 
 Du Plessis-Mornay, 120 ; Lieu- 
 tenant-General of the League, 
 144 ; surprises Germans at 
 Auneau, 159; hated by Henry 
 III., 160; enters Paris in de- 
 fiance of the King, 164 ; at 
 the barricades, 165 ; objects of 
 his ambition, 166 ; despises 
 Henry III., 169: assassinated, 
 170; blood calls for blood, 339 
 
 Guise, Charles, Duke of, 190, 
 243, 248, 254, 286, 28S, 436, 
 
 45X 
 Guise, Charles of. Cardinal of 
 
 Lorraine, 17 ^"^ j^^., 105 
 Guise, Lewis, Cardinal of, 171 
 Guise, Mademoiselle de, 397 
 Guises, their policy and ambi- 
 tion, 16 ; summon the States- 
 General, 20; their toleration, 
 34 ; provoke the outbreak of 
 war, 35 ; distrusted by Philip 
 II., 137 ; ally themselves with 
 Spain, 141 ; distrust Catherine 
 de' Medici, T54 ; their party, 
 183 ; claims on Provence, 288; 
 their intrigues, 451 
 
 H 
 
 Hall, conference at, 434 
 Hall, Treaty of, 446 
 Harlay, 363, 372 
 
 Havre, 203, 234 
 
 Henriette d'Entragues, 389 et 
 ^^1-t 396 £( •f'^^M 418 et seq., 
 43b, 455 
 Henry of Albret, King of Na- 
 varre, 46, 48, 49 
 Henry II., persecutes the Prot- 
 estants, 10; killed, 15 ; intro- 
 duces Jesuits into France, 293 
 Henry III., suspected 01 death 
 of Conde, 42 ; victorious at 
 Montcontour, 57 ; at his sister 
 Margaret's wedding, 70 ; the 
 accomplice of his mother in 
 the plot against Coligny, 75, 
 and in persuading Charles IX. 
 
 i to consent to the massacre, 77; 
 
 I his account of the massacre, 
 79 ; his effeminate dress and 
 
 j character, 91, 116; King of 
 
 ! Poland, 98 ; compelled to 
 leave France, 100 ; flies from 
 
 I Poland yet loiters on his way 
 to France, 102 ; progress in 
 the South, 104 ; his foolish 
 
 . profusion and superstition, 
 105 ; his policy and errors, 
 
 114 ; etiquette at his Court, 
 
 115 ; offers fair terms to the 
 Huguenots, 127 ; concludes 
 Peace of Fleix, 132 ; his mis- 
 government, ib. ; insults his 
 sister Margaret, 136 ; wishes 
 Navarre to conform, 139 ; rec- 
 ognises him as his heir and 
 accepts the Garter, 141 ; dares 
 not resist the League, 144 ; 
 yet warns Navarre to be on 
 his guard, 146 ; surrenders to 
 the League, 148 ; hates Guise, 
 160 ; perplexity, 161 ; defied 
 by Guise, 164 ; compelled to 
 fly from Paris, 166 ; tries to 
 conciliate the League and the 
 Estates at Blois, 168 ; deter- 
 mines to get rid of Guise, 169; 
 assassination of Guise and con- 
 sequences to the King, 171 
 et seq. ; he shows favour to
 
 470 
 
 Index. 
 
 Chatillon, 178 ; interview with 
 Navarre, 179; besieges Paris, 
 181 ; assassinated, 182 ; names 
 Henry of Navarre his suc- 
 cessor, 185 
 Henry IV., swears fidelity to the 
 Protestant cause, 43 ; his birth 
 and early education, 49 ; at 
 the French Court, 52 et seq. ; 
 with his mother at Nerac, 55 ; 
 the source of his versatility, 
 56 ; accompanies Coligny in 
 the campaign of Montcontour 
 and afterwards, 59 ; his do- 
 mains, 61 ; proposed husband 
 of Margaret of Valois, 62, 63 ; 
 arrangements for the wedding, 
 68 ; the ceremony, 69 ; spared 
 after massacre of St. Barthol- 
 omew, 87 ; difficulty of his 
 position, 88 ; serves at siege of 
 La Rochelle, 97 ; carefully 
 guarded by the Queen-Mother 
 after death of Charles IX. ; 
 determines to escape, 105 ; 
 and does so, 107 ; awaits 
 events, 109 ; readmitted into 
 Calvinist Communion, 117 ; 
 protector of the churches, ih. ; 
 receives a deputation from the 
 Estates, 118 ; his valour at 
 Eausse, 119 ; agrees to Peace 
 of Bergerac, 126 ; visited by 
 the Queen-Mother, 128 ; en- 
 gages in a futile war, 129 ; 
 storms Cahors, 130; concludes 
 Peace of Fleix, 132 ; quarrels 
 with his wife, 133 ; wishes to 
 marry the Countess of Gram- 
 mont, 135 ; rejects the offers 
 of Philip II., 137 ; invited to 
 Court by Henry III., 138 ; 
 offers to help the King against 
 the League, 145 ; his stirring 
 letters, 151 ; his manifesto, 
 152 ; answer to Papal excom- 
 munication, 153 ; wins battle 
 of Coutras, 155 ; his troubles 
 in 1587-8, 173; grieves for 
 
 Conde, 175 ; rejoices at the 
 death of Guise, 176 : con- 
 venient illness, ih. ; his inter- 
 view with Henry III. and 
 appearance, 179 ; his acces-,. 
 sion, 183 ; his title to the I 
 throne based on indefeasible \ 
 hereditary right, 184; reply trr"^ 
 demands of Catholic courtiers, 
 186 ; recognised by a large 
 part of the army and by the 
 Swiss, 187 ; his army melts 
 away, 188 ; his opponents 
 divided, 190 ; his difficulties 
 192 et seq. ; retires into Nor- 
 mandy, 195 ; refuses to buy 
 Elizabeth's help by surrender 
 of Calais, 196 ; takes up a 
 strong position before Dieppe, 
 197 ; defeats Mayenne, 199 ; 
 recognised by Venetian Senate, 
 202 ; attacks suburbs of Paris, 
 ib. ; marches to the west, 203 ; 
 attacks the towns around Paris, 
 206 ; defeats Mayenne at Ivry, 
 209 et seq. ; prevented from 
 advancing on Paris by Biron, 
 212 ; general desi re forhis 
 CQj i^versiq n, 213 ; hig-rffTnleel- 
 ings m regard to this, 214 ; 
 determines to blockade Paris, 
 216 ; advised by Biron to raise 
 the siege and meet Parma, 
 221 ; who eludes him, 222 ; 
 his army disperses, 222 ; dis- 
 content and intrigues among 
 his supporters, 225 <V seq. \ 
 quarrels with Corisande, 228 ; 
 having made the acquaint- 
 ance of Gabrielle d'Estrees, 
 229 ; promises to " receive in- 
 struction " and confirms the 
 edicts protecting the Hugue- 
 nots, 232 ; collects a Protestant 
 army, 233 ; with which he 
 besieges Rouen, 236 ; meets 
 Parma at Aumale and is 
 wounded, 240 ; his energy, 
 241 ; continues the siege of
 
 Index, 
 
 471 
 
 Rouen on Parma's retreat, 
 242 ; obliged to raise the siege 
 by Parma, ib. ; baffled Ijy ill 
 will of Biron and skill of 
 Parma, 244 ; obliged to dis- 
 band his army, 246 ; an- 
 nounces to envoys of the Es- 
 tates that he will " receive in- 
 struction within two months," 
 254 ; his conversioi:^ 256 
 et seq. ; ehegts ot his con - 
 vers ion, ^tfS; attftwjTfs against 
 'ms lite, 267 ; the Pope will not 
 absolve him, 268 ; he grants 
 very favourable terms to rebels, 
 270 et seq. ; importance of 
 coronation ceremony, 272 ; 
 coronation at Chartres, 274 ; 
 negotiates surrender of Paris, 
 276 ; pays Bri^^sac liberally for 
 opening the gates, 279 ; enters 
 Paris, 281 ; his clemency, 287; 
 makes Guise Governor of 
 Provence, 288 ; determines to 
 attack Spain, 290 ; his at- 
 tempted assassination by 
 Jacques Clement, 295 ; ban- 
 ishes the Jesuits, ib. ; rebukes 
 the delays of Parliament and 
 Chambre des Comtes, 298 ; 
 joins Biron in Burgundy, 300 ; 
 wins skirmish of Fontaine 
 Fran^aise, 301 ; hurries north 
 on hearing of siege of Cambray, 
 304 ; besieges La Fere, 305 ; 
 absolved by Clement VIII. , 
 306 ; his policy of conciliation 
 not unsuccessful, 309 ; his des- 
 titution, 310; unable to save 
 Calais, 311 ; takes La Fere, 
 312 ; treaty with Elizabeth 
 and Dutch, 313 ; summons an 
 Assembly of Notables, 314 ; 
 his frank eloquence, 316 ; hears 
 of the surprise of Amiens, 318; 
 begs for supplies, 319 ," defeats 
 Archduke Albert's attempt to 
 relieve Amiens, 322 ; refuses 
 to abandon his allies, 325 ; yet 
 
 opens negotiations with Spain, 
 326 ; and concludes peace (of 
 Vcrvins), 327 ; grants favour- 
 able terms to Mercoeur, 328 ; 
 secures toleration and civil 
 rights to the Huguenots by the 
 Edict of Nantes, 329 et seq. ; 
 insists that the Edict shall not 
 be a dead letter, 338 et seq. ; 
 continues to watch over the 
 interests of the Protestants, 
 342 et seq. ; endeavours to re- 
 form the finances, 347 ; the 
 public distress and its causes, 
 350 et seq. ; he fosters manu- 
 factures in opposition to Sully, 
 354 ; also maritime and colonial 
 enterprise, 356 et seq.; inter- 
 ested in agriculture, 358 ; re- 
 organises the army, 364 ; par- 
 dons 7,000 gentlemen for kill- 
 ing their adversaries in duels, 
 369 ; did more for the material 
 welfare than for the intellectual 
 and moral progress of his sub- 
 jects, 371 et seq. ; careless of 
 literature, 373 ; a greater pa- 
 tron of painting and sculpture, 
 375 ; coarseness of manners at 
 his Court, 376 ; anxiety about 
 his life, 378 ; his growing de- 
 votion to Gabrielle d'Estrees, 
 379 ; wishes to marry her, 382, 
 this marriage unpopular, 385 ; 
 his grief at Gabrielle's death, 
 387 ; resigns himself to marry 
 Mary de' Medici, 388 ; but 
 falls in love with Henriette 
 d'Entragues, 389 et ,seq.; 
 meets his wife at Lyons, 394 ; 
 introduces mistress and wife, 
 396 ; ])leased by birth of a 
 Dauphin, 397 ; rapid successes 
 against Savoy, 400 ; his gen- 
 erous treatment of Biron, 401; 
 who confesses something of 
 his intrigues with the Duke of 
 Savoy, 402 ; and is sent to 
 England, 404 ; he takes pre-
 
 472 
 
 Index. 
 
 Henry IV. — {Continued.') 
 cautions against the con- 
 spiracy, 405 ; and surrimons 
 Biron to Fontainebleau, 406 ; 
 would have pardoned him even 
 at the last, ib. ; determines to 
 readmit the Jesuits, 41 1 ; waits 
 for a favourable opportunity to 
 attack Spain and Austria, 413; 
 negotiations with James I., 
 414 ; and the Turks, 416 ; 
 mediates between Paul V. and 
 Venice, 416 ; discovers con- 
 spiracy of the Entragues with 
 Spain, 419 ; tries to break with 
 Henriette, 420 ; but can not 
 and therefiire pardons her 
 father anfl brother, 421 ; com- 
 pels Bouillon to surrender 
 Sedan, 423 ; helps the Dutch 
 to negotiate a peace with 
 Spain, 424 ; rejects overtures 
 for marriage treaty with Spain, 
 425 ; and determined to inter- 
 fere in atTairs of Juliers-Cleves, 
 
 432 ; hopes for alliance of 
 England and Italian powers, 
 
 433 ; aspires to rule wherever 
 French is spoken, 434 ; disap- 
 pointed by backwardness of 
 his allies, 435 ; merited un- 
 happiness of his private life, 
 436 ; falls in love with Char- 
 lotte de Montmorency, 437 ; 
 marries her to the Prince of 
 Conde, 439 ; follows her in 
 disguise, 440 ; indignant that 
 Conde should carry her out of 
 the country, 441 ; threatens 
 the Archdukes with war unless 
 they give up the Princess, 444; 
 the threat not seriously meant, 
 445 ; angry interview with the 
 Spanish ambassador, ib. ; pre- 
 pares to open the campaign 
 with overwhelming forces, 447; 
 yet unusually anxious, 448 ; 
 opposition to his policy by the 
 Queen and his Catholic ad- 
 
 visers, 449 ; tries to propitiate 
 the Queen by allowing her to 
 be crowned, 450 ; gloomy fore- 
 bodings, 452 ; his assassina- 
 tion, 453 ; his character, 458 
 et seq. 
 
 Henry, Prince of Wales, 415, 
 446 
 
 Holland, see Dutch 
 
 Hugh Capet, 273 
 
 Huguenots, see Protestants 
 
 Hulst, 312 
 
 Humieres, 112 
 
 Ibarra, 280, 283 
 
 Isabella the Infanta, 253 et seq.; 
 
 310, 324, 399, 442 et seq. 
 Ivry, battle of, 208, 331 
 
 J 
 
 Jane of Albret, Queen of Na- 
 varre, presents her son to the 
 army, 43 ; married to Antony 
 of Bourbon, 48 ; death of her 
 children, ib. ; hurries to Pau 
 for the birth of her son Henry, 
 49 ; slowly converted but faith- 
 ful to Protestantism, 51 ; edu- 
 cates her son, 55 ; comes to 
 Court to arrange his marriage, 
 64 ; her opinion of Margaret 
 of Valois, 65 ; fears for her 
 son, 66 ; her death, 69 ; zeal 
 for learning, 373 
 
 James I. of England, 414, 433, 
 
 435. 446 
 Jarnac, battle of, 42 
 "jeannin, 121, 205, 235, 283, 424, 
 
 427, 432, 440, 444, 44Q 
 Jesuits, 138, 143, 267, 284, 292 
 
 et seq. ; 305, 345, 410, 424, 
 
 429, 449, 455 
 Joan of Arc, 273 
 John Casimir, Count Palatine, 
 
 no, 158 
 Joyeuse, Duke of, 140, 145, 155 
 Joyeuse, Cardinal, 450
 
 Index. 
 
 473 
 
 La Charite, 59 
 
 La Fere, 286, 305, 311, 312 
 
 La Fin, 401, 405, 409 
 
 La Force, Marquis of, 447, 452 
 
 La Gaucherie, 51, 54, 55 
 
 Languedoc, ig, 100, 102, 150, 
 
 225, 286, 344 
 La Noue, 29, 117, 118, 120, 130, 
 
 200, 212, 221, 223, 237, 271, 
 
 374 
 
 Laon, 286, 287 
 
 La Keole, 129 
 
 La Rochefoucauld, Count of, 42, 
 69 
 
 La Rochelle, 26, 59, 62 ; siege 
 of, 97, 117, 130, 175 
 
 La Tremoille, Duke of Thouars, 
 150, 188, 212, 261, 335 
 
 League, The, supplied with prin- 
 ciples by Protestant writers, 
 97 ; neither patriotic nor popu- 
 lar, 104; its formation, 112; 
 organisation in Paris, 142 ; its 
 manifesto, 143 ; new ultima- 
 tum to Henry IIL. 162; its 
 unpopularity, i6g ; atrocities of 
 its defenders, 177, 213 ; more 
 and more Spanish, 180, 189; 
 yet not all Leaguers subservi- 
 ent to Philip II., 204; May- 
 enne dissolves the Council 
 General, 205 ; condemned by 
 Villeroy, 214 ; its army anni- 
 hilated at Ivry, 216 ; on bad 
 terms with Sixtus V., 225 ; the 
 extreme party wish that Philip 
 II. might rule over them, 234 ; 
 can only continue to exist by 
 his assistance, 246 
 
 Le Fevre, i 
 
 Le Mans, 107, 203, 216 
 
 Leo XI., 415 
 
 Leonora, Dosi or Galigai, 374, 
 422, 436, 451 
 
 Leopold, Archduke, 434, 451 
 
 Le Pollet, 198, 199 
 
 Lepsius, 373 
 
 Lerma, Duke of, 402 
 
 Lesdiguieres, 286, 374, 400, 447 
 
 L'tstoile, 89, j:2I, 162, 193, 368 
 
 Lewis VI., 274 
 
 Lewis X., 273 
 
 Lewis XL, 276 
 
 Lewis XIV., 266, 454 
 
 L'Hopital, 31 et seq. 
 
 L'Huillier, 281 
 
 Liancourt, 230 
 
 Longpre, 322 
 
 Longueville, Duke of, 195, 197, 
 
 200, 299, 302 
 Lorraine, Duke of, 144, 289 
 Lorraine, Claude, Duchess of, 
 
 85, 145 
 Louvre, 57, 166, 282, 368 
 Lover's War, 129 
 Low Countries, see Dutch. 
 Loyola, 292 
 Luther, 3 
 Luxembourg, 297, 299 
 
 M 
 
 Machiavelli, 30, 64, 113 
 
 Malesherbes, castle of, 389 
 
 Malherbe, 377, 392, 440 
 
 Marcoussis, 419 
 
 Margaret of Angouleme, 3, 46, 47 
 
 Margaret of Valois, her infant 
 orthodoxy, 29 ; negotiations for 
 her marriage to King of Portu- 
 gal, 61 ; her hand offered to 
 Henry of Navarre, 62 ; her 
 character, 67 ; marriage, 69 ; 
 her account of the night of St. 
 Bartholomew, 85 ; a friend to 
 her husband, 88 ; rejoins him, 
 128; her Court at Pau, 133; 
 returns to her mother, 181 ; 
 insulted by Henry III., ib. ; 
 a prisoner in Auvergne, 379 ; 
 agrees to a divorce, 381 ; writes 
 to Gabrielle d'Estrees, 385 
 
 Mariana, 409 
 
 Marmoustier, 274 
 
 Marot, II, 377 
 
 Marseilles, 288, 357
 
 474 
 
 Index. 
 
 Mary de' Medici, her birth, 388 
 married by proxy to Henry IV. 
 
 392 ; her journey to Lyons 
 
 393 ; appearance and character 
 
 394 ; her favourites, ih. ; com 
 plains of the pretensions of 
 Henriette d'Entragues, 418 ; 
 less jealous of three rivals than 
 of one, 422 ; desires alliance 
 with Spain, 435 ; her children, 
 436 ; appointed Regent during 
 the King's absence, 430 ; sus- 
 pected of being privy to her 
 husband's murder, 454 
 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 16, 143 
 
 Matthias, Archduke, 430 
 
 Maurevert, 90 
 
 Maximilian II., 429 
 
 Mayenne, Charles of Lonaine, 
 Duke of, 90, 141 ; recognised 
 as head of the League, 173 ; 
 subservient to Philip II., 180 ; 
 jealous of his nephew, Guise, 
 190 ; his character, 191 ; de- 
 feated at Arques, 199 ; negoti- 
 ates with Philip II., 204; ap- 
 points a Council of State, 205 ; 
 flight at Ivry, 212 ; humiliated 
 by Parma, 222 ; summons the 
 States-General, 234; wishes to 
 prevent the marriage of Guise 
 and the Infanta Isabella, 235 ; 
 Urged by Jeannin to come to 
 terms with the King, ib. ; joins 
 Parma to relieve Rouen, 240 ; 
 which he hopes to hold without 
 Spanish help, 241 ; but is mis- 
 taken, 242 ; ousts the " Six- 
 teen," 248 ; his unpopularity, 
 249 ; summons the States-Gen- 
 eral to Paris, 250 ; takes Noy- 
 on, 255 ; accepts an armistice, 
 but sends his son-in-law to 
 Madrid, 268 ; re-establishes the 
 Council of Sixteen, 277 ; leaves 
 Paris, 278 ; pertinacious in dis- 
 loyalty, 289 ; joins the Consta- 
 ble of Castile in Franche- 
 Comte, 300 ; retires to Chalons, 
 
 302 ; submits to the King, 307, 
 his character, 308 ; before 
 Amiens, 309 ; where he does 
 good service, 323 ; appointed 
 a member of the Council of 
 Regency, 451 
 
 Meaux, 270 
 
 Mendoza, 139, 141, 180, 216, 
 241 
 
 Mercoeur, Duke of, 224, 289, 
 
 327 
 Meulan, 206 
 Miossans, Mme. de, 49 
 Monluc, 29, 304 
 Montauban, 61, 97 
 Montbazon, Duke of, 447, 452 
 Montcontour, battle of, 57 
 Montgomery, Count of, 15, 83, 
 
 99, 100 
 Montmorency, Constable, 4, 16, 
 
 21, 25, 61 
 Montmorency, Duke of, 99, 100, 
 
 109, 126, 146, 150, 225, 309, 
 
 317, 403, 405, 443 
 Montpensier, Duchess of, 162, 
 
 182, 218, 283, 284 
 Montpensier, Duke of, 210, 312 
 Moriscos, 415, 434, 447 
 Mornay, see Du Plessis. 
 
 N 
 
 Nangay, M. de, 86 
 Naples, 433 
 Napoleon, 45, 156, 454 
 Nassau, 94 ; see Orange. 
 Navarre, kingdom of, 45 
 Nemours, Duke of, 210 
 Nemours, Duchess of, 284, 396 
 Nerac, 51, 52, 55, 133, 379 
 Neuburg, Count Palatine of, 431 
 Nevers, Duke of, 77, 268, 303 
 Nimes, 105 
 Normandy, 20, 180, 203, 236, 
 
 344 
 Noyon, 255 
 
 O 
 
 Orange, William, Prince of, 74, 
 94, 120
 
 Index. 
 
 475 
 
 Orange, Maurice, Prince of , 195, 
 
 224, 415. 424. 447 
 Orange, Princess of, 387 
 Ostend, 415, 423 
 
 Palissy, Bernard, 84 
 
 Fare, Ambrose, 79 
 
 Paris, centre of orthodoxy, 28 
 its religious houses there, ib 
 ferocity of inhabitants, 83 , 
 the barricades, 165 ; expels 
 Henry III., 166 ; grief for 
 death of Guise, 172 ; besieged 
 by Henry III., 181 ; rejoicings 
 at his murder, 182 ; suburbs 
 attacked by Henry IV., 203 ; 
 blockaded after Ivry, 217 ; re- 
 liance on Philip II., 217 ; 
 famine, 218 ; peace or bread, 
 219 ; relieved by Parma, 222 ; 
 garrisoned by Spaniards, 224 ; 
 famine again, 234 ; detestation 
 of the League, 236 ; the Six- 
 teen attempt a reign of terror 
 in Paris, 248 ; Moderates in- 
 sist on negotiations, 249 ; sur- 
 render only prevented by 
 Spaniards, 277 ; terms of sur- 
 render, 279 ; changes hands 
 peaceably, 280 ; filthy squalor 
 of the streets, 365 ; improved 
 by Henry IV., 366 et seq. 
 
 Parliament of Paris, hesitates to 
 punish heretics, 15 ; hostile to 
 the Reformers, 24 ; opposes 
 the League, 154 ; declares the 
 Salic law inviolable, 255 ; an- 
 nuls everything done to the 
 prejudice of the Crown, 285 ; 
 scolded by Henry IV. , 298 ; 
 remonstrates against lenient 
 treatment of Mayenne, 307 ; 
 compelled by the King to reg- 
 ister the Edict of Nantes, 339 ; 
 effect on it of system of pur- 
 
 chase, 362 ; sentences Biron, 
 407 ; protests against the re- 
 turn of the Jesuits, 411 
 
 Parliament, Protestant judges in, 
 338 
 
 Parma, see Famese. 
 
 Pau, 49, 52, 57 ; Court of, 133 
 
 Paul v., 416, 433. 435. 447 
 
 Pazzi, 393 
 
 Petrucci, 61 
 
 Philip II., enemy of the House 
 of Guise, 16 ; proposed as hus- 
 band to Jane of Albret, 47 ; 
 would have liked to burn her, 
 54 ; expects a high price for 
 helping French Catholics, 58 ; 
 common enemy of Protestant- 
 ism, 71 ; overtures to Henry 
 of Navarre, 137 ; allies himself 
 with the Guises, 142 ; claim 
 of his daughter to French 
 Crown, 146 ; promises to help 
 the League, 189; expects the 
 title of the Infanta Isabella to 
 be recognised, 205, 234 ; more 
 ready to send men than money 
 to France, 214; neglects 
 Netherlands for France, 224 ; 
 sends 4,000 men to Brittany, 
 234 ; cruel treatment of La 
 None, 237 ; determines to send 
 Parma to impose his will on 
 the Estates at Paris, 250 ; in- 
 structions to Feria, 254 ; treats 
 with Epernon, 286 ; every- 
 where active against Henry 
 IV., 289 ; not to be bearded 
 with impunity, 291 ; ally of 
 the Jesuits, 292 ; sends great 
 reinforcements to the Low 
 Countries, 303 ; quarrels with 
 the Jesuits, 305 ; formidable 
 though bankrupt, 310 ; wishes 
 to leave peace to his succes- 
 sors, 324 
 
 Philip III., 402, 419, 425, 427, 
 
 433, 446, 447 
 Picardy, 303 
 Pignerol, 102
 
 4/6 
 
 Index. 
 
 Place Royale, 367 
 Poirson, 372 
 Poissy, 206 
 Poitou, 344 
 
 Politicians (Moderate party), 61, 
 72, 99, 116, 153, 180, 249, 
 
 315 
 
 Portocarrero, 317, 322 
 
 Protestants, in France, opponents 
 of despotism, 8 ; organised by- 
 Calvin, 9 ; sufferings under 
 Francis I. and Henry II., 10 
 ft seq. ; their organisation and 
 nuini>ers, 1 3 ; of all ranks, 14 ; 
 rejoice at death of Henry II., 
 16; called Huguenots, ig ; 
 conspire against the Guises, 
 20 ; their policy at Estates of 
 1 561, 22; their numbers at 
 beginning of religious wars, 
 25 ; unequally distributed 26 ; 
 believed to be in the ascend- 
 ant, 29 ; attacked by the mob 
 and refused justice in the 
 courts, 33 ; challenged by the 
 Guises, 35 ; were they right to 
 begin the war? 37; their 
 strength and weakness, 39 et 
 seq. ; effect on the Protestant 
 cause of the first eight years of 
 war, 60 ; close connection of 
 their fortunes with those of 
 Protestants elsewhere, 71 ; 
 massacred unresistingly, 82 ; j 
 a more popular party after St. I 
 Bartholomew's day, 96 ; en- 
 couraged by successful resist- ( 
 ance of La Rochelle, 98 ; as- 
 sisted by Politicians, 99 ; form i 
 a confederation with them in , 
 Languedoc, 102 ; more and 
 more confined to certain prov- ' 
 inces, 103 ; obtain favourable 
 terms by the Peace of " Mon- 
 sieur," 109 ; consequent re- 
 action, III, 113; hold aloof ; 
 from the States-General of ! 
 1576, 116; obtained reason- 
 able terms in the Peace of 
 
 Bergerac, 127 ; the League 
 excite the people against her- 
 esy, 143 ; Edict of Toleration 
 revoked (1586), 148; prospects 
 of the Huguenots in the strug- 
 gle, r49 ft si'q. ; joint mani- 
 festo of Protestants and Poli- 
 ticians, 152 ; assembly at La 
 Rochelle, 175; treaty with the 
 Royalists, 177 ; their policy, 
 183 ; TTueuenot valour, decis- 
 ive at Arques, 200 ; careless of 
 constitutional reforms, 315 ; 
 the discontented majority re- 
 fuse to help the King to retake 
 .Amiens, 321 ; their grievances 
 against the King unfounded, 
 330 et seq. ; he did all that he 
 could for them by the Edict of 
 Nantes, 337 ; their organisa- 
 tion and power, 343 ; their 
 distribution, numbers, and un- 
 popularity, 344 et seq. ; refuse 
 to support Bouillon against 
 the King, 422 ; popular feel- 
 ing excited against them, 449 
 
 Provence, 27, 286, 288, 344 
 
 Provins, 223, 356 
 
 Pyrenees, 45. 
 
 Quebec, 358 
 Quercy, 130 
 
 R 
 
 Rabelais, 377 
 
 Ravaillac, 455 et seq. 
 
 Renee of France, Duchess of 
 Ferrara, 11 
 
 Rheims, 205, 234, 273 
 
 Richelieu, 265 
 
 Ronsard, gi, 377 
 
 Rose, Bishop of Senlis, 255 
 
 Rosne, Marshal de, 311, 312 
 
 Rosny, Maximilian de Bethune, 
 Baron of (Duke of Sully), his 
 education and character, 122,
 
 Index. 
 
 477 
 
 cf. 348 ; reputation, 125 ; 
 advises Henry IV. to conform, 
 258 ; ncfjotiates surrender of 
 Rouen, 276 ; vainly attempts 
 financial reforms, 309 ; finds 
 funds necessary for siege of 
 Amiens, 320 ; reorganises the 
 finances, 348 ; his dignities 
 and rewards, 349 ; exposes 
 peculation, 350 ; not a revolu- 
 tionist, 352 ; improves roads 
 and plans canals, 353 ; a free- 
 trader, 354 ; believes in sumpt- 
 uary laws, 355 ; improves in- 
 cidence of tallage, 358 ; tries 
 to make publicans disgorge, 
 360 ; systematises the sale of 
 legal appointments, 362 ; finan- 
 cial result achieved, 363 ; his 
 memoirs not to be trusted, 383 ; 
 hated Gabrielle d'Estrees, ib. ; 
 fails to induce Biron to confess, 
 406 ; opposes the readmission 
 of the Jesuits, 411 ; the inven- 
 tor of the " Grand Design," 
 412 ; sent as ambassador to 
 James I., 414 ; his good ad- 
 vice after flight of Conde, 441 
 
 Roucy, Count of, 374 
 
 Rouen, 26, 62, 173, 203, 234, 
 236, 238 (siege of), 241 et seq., 
 275. 3^5. 338, 356 
 
 Rudolf, Emperor, 429 
 
 Sadolet, 11 
 Saluzzo, 399 
 Sancy, 187, 290, 383 
 Saumur, 108, 177 
 Sauves, Madame de, 128 
 Savoy, Charles Emmanuel, Duke 
 of, 102, 225, 364, 399 et seq., 
 
 417, 433, 435 
 Saxony, 430 
 Scaliger, Joseph, 56, 348, 358, 
 
 372 
 Schomberg, Count of, 207 
 Schomberg, Count of Nanteuil, 
 
 334 
 
 Sebastian of Portugal, 61 
 
 Sedan, 409, 423 
 
 Segur, 459 
 
 Senlis, 107 
 
 Serres, Olivier de, 358 
 
 Sforza, Francis, 276 
 
 " Sixteen," the, 162, 234, 248, 
 
 277 
 
 Sixtus v., 153, 225 
 
 Smith, Adam, 359 
 
 Spinola, 415, 423, 442, 451 
 
 Soissons, Charles of Bourbon, 
 Count of, 125, 156, 387 
 
 Sorbonne, see University of 
 Paris 
 
 Stafford, Sir E., 161 
 
 States-General of 1561, 22; of 
 1576, 116, 126; of 1588. 168; 
 abortive meeting at Rheims, 
 234; of 1593, 251, 269; un- 
 popularity of States-General, 
 
 314 
 St. Andre, Marshal, 25, 33, 41 
 St. Bartholomew^ massacre of, 
 
 78 et seq. ; account given by 
 
 French Court, 93 
 St. Denis, battle of, 41, 218, 
 
 264, 451 
 St. Germains, Peace of, 59 
 St. Germains, Palace of, 368 
 St. Jean d'Angeli, siege of, 57 
 St. Luc, 278 
 
 St. Pol, Count of, 303, 311, 317 
 Sully, see Rosny 
 Suresne, 254 
 Swiss, 155, 180, 208, 211, 227. 
 
 236, 245, 302 
 
 Tassis, 241 
 Tavannes, 74, 77 
 Teligny, 73, 76 
 Thouars, Duchess of, 397 
 Thouars, Duke of, see La Tre. 
 
 moille 
 Toledo, Don Pedro of, 426 
 Toleto, Cardinal, 269, 305 
 Touchet, Marie, 389
 
 478 
 
 Index. 
 
 Toulouse, 27, 131, 173, 225, 286 ; 
 Parliament of, 341 
 
 Tournon, Cardinal, il 
 
 Tours, 285 
 
 Trent, Council of, 26g, 416 
 
 Turenne, Viscount of, Duke of 
 Bouillon, 128, 150, 212, 221, 
 233, 236, 261, 290, 297, 299, 
 303. 335. 369. 376, 402, 403, 
 409 
 
 Tuscany, Grand Duke of, 310, 
 388 
 
 U 
 
 University of Paris, the judge of 
 orthodoxy, 2, 3, 6 ; declares 
 that incompetent princes may 
 be deposed, 162 ; that Henry 
 III. has forfeited the Crown, 
 172 ; that Henry IV. is in- 
 capable of reigning even 
 though absolved by the Pope, 
 217; nostudents, 224 ; recants, 
 285 ; quarrel with the Jesuits, 
 293 ; reformed, 372 
 
 Usson, castle of, 380 
 
 Vassy, massacre of, 34 
 
 Velasco, Don Fernan de, 299 ei 
 
 seq. 
 Vendome, Cardinal of, 138 
 Vendome, Csesar, Duke of, 297, 
 
 308, 328, 382 
 Vendome, Charles, Count of, 44 
 Venice, 202, 305, 416, 433, 435. 
 
 447 
 Vere, Sir Francis, 415 
 Verneuil, Marchioness of, see 
 
 Henriette 
 Vervins, Peace of, 327, 399, 412 
 Vielleville, Marshal, 41 
 Villars, 238, 241, 270, 275, 303, 
 
 304 
 Villeroy, 121, 189, 194, 205, 
 
 213, 221, 235, 252, 266, 383, 
 
 417, 440, 449 
 Vitry, 270 
 
 W 
 
 Walsingham, 61, 71, 74, 120, 
 
 233 
 Wurtemberg, Christopher, Duke 
 
 of, 34 
 
 Zamet, 386 
 
 Zwingli, 4 
 
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