Volume II Part 37 (1/2)

[Sidenote: Catharine warned by the Huguenots.]

[Sidenote: Infringement on the edict at Orange.]

It cannot be denied, however, that the Huguenots could see much that was disquieting and calculated to prevent them from laying aside their suspicions. There were symptoms of the old const.i.tutional timidity on the part of Catharine de' Medici. She showed signs of so far yielding to the inveterate enemies of the Huguenots as to abstain from insisting upon the concession of public religious wors.h.i.+p where it had been accorded by the Edict of St. Germain. No wonder that the Huguenots, on their side, warned her, with friendly sincerity and frankness, that, should she refuse to entertain their just demands, _the present peace would be only a brief truce, the prelude to a relentless civil war_. ”We will all die,” was their language, ”rather than forsake our G.o.d and our religion, which we can no more sustain without public exercise than could a body live without food and drink.”[804] Not only did the courts throw every obstacle in the way of the formal recognition of the law establis.h.i.+ng the rights of the Huguenots, but the outbreaks of popular hatred against the adherents of the purer faith were alarming evidence that the chronic sore had only been healed over the surface, and that none of the elements of future disorder and bloodshed were wanting. Thus, in the little city and princ.i.p.ality of Orange, the Roman Catholic populace, taking advantage of the supineness of the governor and of the consuls, introduced within the walls, under cover of a three days' religious festival, a large number of ruffians from the adjoining Comtat Venaissin. This was early in February, 1571. Now began a scene of rapine and bloodshed that might demand detailed mention, were it not that at the frequent repet.i.tion of such ghastly recitals the stoutest heart sickens. Men, and even mere boys, of the reformed faith were butchered in their homes, in the arms of their wives or their mothers. The goods of Protestants were plundered and openly sold to the highest bidder. Of many, a ransom was exacted for their safety. The work went on for two weeks. At last a deputy from Orange reached the Huguenot princes and the admiral at La Roch.e.l.le, and Count Louis of Na.s.sau, who was still there, wrote to Charles with such urgency, in the name of his brother, the Prince of Orange, that measures were taken to repress and punish the disorder.[805]

[Sidenote: The Protestants at Rouen attacked, March 4, 1571.]

A much more serious infringement upon the protection granted to the Protestants by the edict, took place at Rouen about a month later.

Unable to celebrate their wors.h.i.+p within the city walls, the Protestants had gone out one Sunday morning to the place a.s.signed them for this purpose in the suburbs. Meantime a body of four hundred Roman Catholics posted themselves in ambush near the gates to await their return. When the unsuspecting Huguenots, devoutly meditating upon the solemnities in which they had been engaged, made their appearance, they were greeted first with imprecations and blasphemies, then with a murderous attack. Between one hundred and one hundred and twenty are said to have been killed or wounded. The punishment of this audacious violation of the rights of the Protestants was at first left by parliament to the inferior or presidial judges, and the investigation dragged. The judges were threatened as they went to court: ”Si l'on scavoit que vous eussiez informe, on vous creveroit les yeux; si vous y mectez la main, on vous coupera la gorge!” The people broke into the prisons and liberated the accused. The civic militia refused to interfere. It was evident that no justice could be obtained from the local magistrates. The king, however, on receiving the complaints of the Huguenots, displayed great indignation, and despatched Montmorency to Rouen with twenty-seven companies of soldiers, and a commission authorized to try the culprits. The greater part of these, however, had fled. Only five persons received the punishment of death; several hundred fugitives were hung in effigy. Montmorency attempted to secure the Protestants against further aggression by disarming the entire population, with the exception of four hundred chosen men, and by compelling the parliament, on the fifteenth of May, to swear to observe the Edict of Pacification--precautions whose efficacy we shall be able to estimate more accurately by the events of the following year.[806]

[Sidenote: The ”Croix de Gastines” again.]

The strength of the popular hatred of the Huguenots was often too great for even the government to cope with. The rabble of the cities would hear of no upright execution of the provisions respecting the oblivion of past injuries, and resisted with pertinacity the attempt to remove the traces of the old conflict. The Parisians gave the most striking evidence of their unextinguished rancor in the matter of the ”Croix de Gastines,” a monument of religious bigotry, the reasons for whose erection in 1569 have been sufficiently explained in a previous chapter.[807]

More than a year had pa.s.sed since the promulgation of the royal edict of pacification annulling all judgments rendered against Protestants since the death of Henry the Second; and yet the Croix de Gastines still stood aloft on its pyramidal base, upon the site of the Huguenot place of meeting. Several times, at the solicitation of the Protestants, the government ordered its demolition. The munic.i.p.al officers of Paris declined to obey, because it had not been erected by them; the parliament, because, as they alleged, the sentence was just and they could not retract; the Provost of Paris, because he was not above parliament, which had placed it there.[808] Charles himself wrote with his own hand to the provost: ”You deliberate whether to obey me, and whether you will have that fine pyramid overturned. I forbid you to appear in my presence until it be cast down.”[809] The end was not yet. The monks preached against the sacrilege of lowering the cross. Maitre Vigor, on the first Sunday of Advent, praised the people of Paris for having opposed the demolition, maintaining that they had acted ”only from zeal for G.o.d, who upon the cross suffered for us.” ”The people,” he declared, ”had never murmured when they had taken down Gaspard de Coligny, who had been hung in effigy, and _would soon, G.o.d willing, be hung in very deed!_”[810] Meantime, the mob of Paris exhibited its zeal for the honor of the cross by a.s.sailing the soldiers sent to tear down the ”Croix de Gastines,” and by breaking open and plundering the contents of several Huguenot houses. It was not until the provost had called in the a.s.sistance of Marshal Montmorency, and the latter had killed a few of the seditious Parisians who opposed his progress, and hung one man to the windows of a neighboring house, that the disturbance ceased. The pyramid was then destroyed, and the cross transferred to the Cimetiere des Innocents, where it is said to have remained until the outbreak of the French Revolution.[811] The ”plucking down of the cross” was a distasteful draught to the fanatics. ”The common people,” wrote an eye-witness, ”ease their stomacks onely by uttering seditious words, which is borne withal, for that was doubted. The Protestants by the overthrow of this cross receive greater comfort, and the papists the contrary.”[812]

[Sidenote: Projected marriage of Anjou to Queen Elizabeth.]

The Huguenot leaders, rejoicing at any evidence of the royal favor, desired to strengthen it and render it more stable. For this purpose they found a rare opportunity in projecting matrimonial alliances. Queen Elizabeth, of England, was yet unmarried, a princess of acknowledged ability, and reigning over a kingdom, which, if it had not at that time attained the wealth of industry and commerce which it now possesses, was, at least, one of the most ill.u.s.trious in Christendom. Where could a more advantageous match be sought for Henry of Anjou, the French monarch's brother? True, the Tudor princess was no longer young, and her personal appearance was scarcely praised, except by her courtiers. She had been a candidate for many projected nuptials, but in none had the disparity of age been so great as in the present case, for, being a maiden of thirty-seven, she lacked but a single year of being twice as old as Anjou.[813] Besides these objections, and independently of the difference of creed between the queen and Anjou, she had the unenviable reputation of being irresolute, fickle, and capricious. And yet, in spite of all these difficulties, the match was seriously proposed and entertained in the autumn and winter succeeding the ratification of peace.

It is worthy of notice that the scheme originated with the French Protestants. Cardinal Chatillon, the admiral's brother, and the Vidame of Chartres, both of them zealous partisans of the Reformation, and at this time engaged in negotiations in England, were the first to make mention of the plan, and probably it took its rise in their minds. Their object was manifest: if France could be united to Protestant England by so distinguished a marriage, the permanence of the peace of St. Germain might be regarded as secure. Under such auspices, the Huguenots, long proscribed and persecuted, might hope for such favor and toleration as they had never yet enjoyed.

Catharine de' Medici, when approached on the subject, gave indications of hearty acquiescence. Of late there had been a growing estrangement between the French and Spanish courts. The selfishness and arrogance of Philip and his ministers had been particularly evident and offensive during the late war. It was sufficiently clear that the Catholic king opposed the peace less from hatred of heresy or of rebellion, than because of his scarcely disguised hope of profiting by the misfortunes of France. The queen mother was consequently quite inclined to tighten the bonds of amity and friends.h.i.+p with England, when those that had previously existed with Spain were loosened. The prospect of a crown for her favorite son was an alluring one--doubly so, because of Nostradamus's prophecy that she would see all her sons upon the throne, to which she gave a superst.i.tious credence, trembling lest it should involve in its fulfilment their untimely death. It is true that, in view of Elizabeth's age, she would have preferred to marry the Duke of Anjou to some princess of the royal house of England, whom Elizabeth might first have proclaimed her heir and successor.[814] However, as the English queen was, perhaps, even more reluctant than the majority of mankind to be reminded of her advancing years and of her mortality, Catharine's amba.s.sador may have deemed it advisable to be silent regarding the suggestion of so palpable a ”memento mori,” and contented himself with offering for her own acceptance the hand of one whom he recommended as ”the most accomplished prince living, and the most deserving her good graces.”[815] Elizabeth received the proposal with courtesy, merely alluding to the great difference between her age and Anjou's, but admitted her apprehension lest, since ”she was already one whose kingdom rather than herself was to be wedded,” she might marry one who would honor her as a queen rather than love her as a woman. In fact, the remembrance of the amours of the father and grandfather made her suspicious of the son, and the names of Madame d'Estampes and of Madame de Valentinois (Diana of Poitiers) inspired her with no little fear. All which coy suggestions La Mothe Fenelon, astute courtier that he was, knew well how to answer.[816]

[Sidenote: Machinations to dissuade Anjou.]

Soon, however, the difficulty threatened to be the unwillingness of the suitor, rather than the reluctance of the lady. Henry of Anjou was the head of the Roman Catholic party in France. Charles's orthodoxy might be suspected; there was no doubt of his brother's. His intimacy with the Guises, his successes as general of the royal forces in what was styled a war in defence of religion, were guarantees of his devotion to the papal cause. All his prestige would be lost if he married the heretical daughter of Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn. Hence desperate efforts were made to deter him--efforts which did not escape the Argus-eyed Walsingham. ”The Pope, the King of Spain, and the rest of the confederates, upon the doubt of a match between the queen, my mistress, and monsieur, do seek, by what means they can, to dissuade and draw him from the same. They offer him to be the head and chief executioner of the league against the Turk, a thing now newly renewed, though long ago meant; which league is thought to stretch to as many as they repute to be Turks, although better Christians than themselves. The cause of the Cardinal of Lorraine's repair hither from Rheims, as it is thought, was to this purpose.”[817]

[Sidenote: Charles indignant at the interference.]

Charles the Ninth was indignant at this interference, and said: ”If this matter go forward, it behooveth me to make some counter-league,” having his eye upon the German Protestant princes and Elizabeth.[818] Besides, there were at this juncture other reasons for displeasure, especially with Spain. Charles and his mother had received a rebuff from Sebastian of Portugal, to whom they had offered Margaret of Valois in marriage. The young king had replied, through Malicorne, ”that they were both young, and that therefore about eight years hence that matter might be better talked of,” ”which disdainful answer,” the English amba.s.sador wrote from the French court, ”is accepted here in very ill part, and is thought not to be done without the counsel of Spain.”[819]

[Sidenote: Alencon to be subst.i.tuted as suitor.]

With Henry of Anjou, however, much to the disgust and disappointment of his mother, the ”league” succeeded too well. Scarcely had a month pa.s.sed, before Catharine was compelled to write to the envoy in England, telling him that Henry had heard reports unfavorable to Elizabeth's character, and positively declined to marry her.[820] In her extreme perplexity at this unexpected turn of events, the queen mother suggested to La Mothe Fenelon that perhaps the Duke of Alencon would do as well, and might step into the place which his brother had so ungallantly abandoned.[821] Now, as this Alencon was a beardless boy of sixteen, and, unlike Charles and Henry, small for his age, it is not surprising that La Mothe declared himself utterly averse to making any mention of him for the present, lest the queen should come to the very sensible conclusion that the French were ”making sport of her.”[822]

[Sidenote: Anjou's new ardor.]

[Sidenote: Elizabeth interposes obstacles.]

But there was at present no need of resorting to subst.i.tution. For a time the ardor of Anjou was rekindled, and rapidly increased in intensity.

Catharine first wrote that Anjou ”condescended” to marry Elizabeth;[823]

presently, that ”he desired infinitely to espouse her.”[824] A month or two later he declared to Walsingham: ”I must needs confess that, through the great commendation that is made of the queen your mistress, for her rare gifts as well of mind as of body, being (as even her very enemies say) the rarest creature that was in Europe these five hundred years; my affection, grounded upon so good respects, hath now made me yield to be wholly hers.”[825] On the other hand, Elizabeth began to exhibit such coldness that her most intimate servants doubted her sincerity in the entire transaction. With more candor than courtiers usually exhibit in urging a suit which they suspect to be distasteful to their sovereign, Lord Burleigh, the Earl of Leicester, and Sir Francis Walsingham used every means of persuading the queen to decisive action. ”My very good Lord,” wrote Walsingham, on the fourteenth of May, 1571, ”the Protestants here do so earnestly desire this match; and on the other side, the papists do so earnestly seek to impeach the same, as it maketh me the more earnest in furthering of the same. Besides, when I particularly consider her Majesty's state, both at home and abroad, so far forth as my poor eyesight can discern; and how she is beset with foreign peril, the execution whereof stayeth only upon the event of this match, I do not see how she can stand if this matter break off.”[826] Lord Burleigh, in perplexity on account of Elizabeth's conduct, exclaimed that ”he was not able to discern what was best;” but added: ”Surely I see no continuance of her quietness without a marriage, and therefore I remit the success to Almighty G.o.d.”[827] The situation of Elizabeth's servants was, indeed, extremely embarra.s.sing. Their mistress had laid an insuperable obstacle in the way.

She did not, indeed, require Anjou to abjure his faith, but her demands virtually involved this. Not only did she refuse to grant the duke, by the articles of marriage, public or even private wors.h.i.+p for himself and his attendants, according to the rites of the Roman Catholic Church, but she wished to bind him to make no request to that effect after marriage.[828]

In vain did Catharine protest that this was to require him to become an atheist, and her own advisers solemnly warn her that this could but lead to an entire rupture of the negotiations. Under the pretence of excluding all exercise of Popery from England, the queen disappointed the ardent hopes of thousands of sincere and thorough Protestants in France and of many more in England, who viewed the marriage as by far the most advisable cure--far better than a simple treaty of peace--for the ills of both kingdoms. ”If you find not in her Majesty,” wrote Walsingham to Leicester, ”a resolute determination to marry--a thing most necessary for our staggering state--then were it expedient to take hold of amity, which may serve to ease us for a time, though our disease requireth another remedy;”

and again, a few days later (on the third of August, 1571): ”My lord, if neither marriage nor amity may take place, the poor Protestants here do think then their case desperate. They tell me so with tears, and therefore I do believe them. And surely, if they say nothing, beholding the present state here, I could not but see it most apparent.”[829]

[Sidenote: Papal and Spanish efforts.]

The fears of the Protestants were not baseless. As the marriage, and the consequent close friends.h.i.+p with England, seemed to insure the growth and spread of the reformed faith,[830] the failure of both was an almost unmistakable portent of the triumph of the opposite party and of the renewal of persecution and bloodshed. And so also the fanatical Roman Catholics read the signs of the times, and again they plied Anjou with their seductions. ”Great practices are here for the impeachment of this match,” wrote the English amba.s.sador, near the end of July, 1571. ”The Papal Nuncio, Spain, and Portugal, are daily courtiers to dissuade this match. The clergy here have offered Monsieur a great pension, to stay him from proceeding. In conclusion, there is nothing left undone, that may be thought fit to hinder.”[831]