James Westfall Thompson

THE TOUR OF THE PROVINCES.[814] THE BAYONNE EPISODE

“I am always en voyage,” wrote the Venetian ambassador to the senate. “Since the beginning of my embassy the King has not staid more than fifteen days in any one place. He goes from Lorraine to Poitou, and then to Normandy and the edge of Belgium, back again to Normandy, then to Paris, Picardy, Champagne, Burgundy.”[815] Dr. Dale wrote in the same strain to Lord Burghley: “The Spanish ambassador has a saying that ambassadors in France are eaten up by their horses, since they are constrained to keep so many because of the habit of the court of moving from place to place continually.”[816]

But there was point to Charles IX’s famous tour of the provinces in 1564-66. The unsettled condition of the country, if no other reason, accounts for Catherine’s great design of completing the pacification of the kingdom by having the King tour the realm. The route lay through Sens[817] (March 15) to Troyes (March 23)[818] where the peace with England was signed on April 13; thence to ChÂlons-sur-Marne, Bar-le-Duc, Dijon (May 15), Macon (June 8), and thence to Lyons, where the court arrived on June 13. The King traveled with his ordinary train, that is, with his mother, his brother, the duke of Anjou, the constable, and the archers of the guard, in order to spare the people the burden of great entertainment, and those princes and nobles who wished to follow were accompanied only by their ordinary servants.[819] If the Huguenots viewed the King’s sojourn at Bar-le-Duc with apprehension,[820] it was not without anxiety that his Catholic subjects saw Charles IX visit the great city located at the junction of the Rhone and the SaÔne rivers.[821] Lyons seems to have imbibed something of Calvinism from the very waters of the arrowy river whose source was the lake of the citadel of Calvinism.[822] The rumor was current that a greater conspiracy than that of Amboise was on foot; that the King and queen were to be deposed and slain, and that Lyons would unite with Geneva to form a greater Calvinistic republic.[823]

But Lyons welcomed the King graciously, and gave him sumptuous accommodation.[824] Charles was charmed with the reception given him and amazed at the wealth and commercial prosperity of the city.[825] Situated at the confluence of the Rhone and the SaÔne rivers, the wines and grain of Burgundy came to Lyons for market, while it was the natural entrepÔt of the commerce out of Italy, besides much that came from Spain and Flanders. There were four fairs there each year. The great industry of the city was silk manufacturing. In 1450 Charles VII had granted it the monopoly in this. Francis I in 1536 relieved the silk operatives of all taxes and military service. The bulk of the commerce was in the hands of Italians, of whom there were said to be above twelve thousand in the city—chiefly Florentines, Genoese, and Milanese.[826] There were also many Germans and Swiss, whose presence gave the governor, the duke of Nemours,[827] great anxiety, because large quantities of arms were smuggled into the city in the guise of merchandise.[828]

The court had not been long upon its tour through the provinces before Catherine de Medici discovered that the petition of the estates of Burgundy for the abolition of Protestant worship was not merely a local prejudice, but the sense of the provinces.[829] The elements of this public opinion were various: The clergy—not all, however—wanted the findings of the Council of Trent accepted in toto; all of them were dissatisfied with the recognition of the rights of the Protestants; the alienation of their lands was a grievance to the clergy, the more so because speculators had bought them at a low price because of the doubt as to the validity of the title.[830] The Guises were angry that the prosecution of Coligny for the murder of the duke had been abandoned.[831] Among high and low alike there were unprincipled folk who had hopes of profiting by confiscations and forfeitures imposed upon the Huguenots.[832]

The queen mother was too good a politician not to pay heed to these signs of popular feeling, more especially as the voice of the provinces chimed with those in high authority, who not only urged that the war be renewed against the Protestants but also hinted broadly of foreign support in aid of the crown. At first Catherine answered graciously, yet guardedly, to the effect that a peace which had been so solemnly made, by the advice of the princes of the blood and the council, could not be too lightly cast aside.

The miserable effects of the war were everywhere evident. Agriculture had almost ceased in a country famous for its fertility, and the whole country had been so plundered and harassed by both parties that the poor people, being stripped of all their substance, often preferred to fly to the forests rather than to remain continually exposed to the mercy of their enemies. Wandering soldiers and dissolute women, with stolen goods in their possession, infested the roads.[833] As to trade and manufacturing, the mechanic arts still were plied only in the largest and strongest towns; even here merchants and tradesmen had shut up shop and gone off to war, not always out of religious zeal, but in the hope of enriching themselves by spoliation. The nobility were divided; the clergy incensed. The civil war had been accompanied by the attendant aids of violence, robbery, murder, rape, and justice had not been administered in the courts for months. The very methods resorted to for the preservation of religion rendered it hateful in the eyes of many men of both parties. Both parties were bigoted in belief and in practice. The iconoclasm of the Protestants, who tore down church edifices hoary with age and sanctified by tradition, expelling the inmates, both male and female, if doing them no worse injury, familiarized society with changes wrought by violence and made the people callous to one of the most precious possessions of a nation—a reverence for tradition.[834]

To all these difficulties the prevalence of the plague must be added. Since the century of the Black Death Europe had not so suffered from this scourge as in the sixteenth. It recurred intermittently, being especially violent in the years 1531, 1533, 1544, 1546, 1548, 1553, 1562-64, 1568, 1577-80.[835] No part of Europe was spared. France, England, Spain, the Low Countries, Germany, and Italy, all suffered. But certain portions of France suffered more than others, as Bas-Languedoc, Provence, the Lyonnais, Burgundy, Champagne, the Ile-de-France, and Normandy. The west and especially the southwest were relatively exempt. Apparently the disease followed the trades-routes along the river valleys, for Toulouse, Lyons, ChÂlons-sur-SaÔne, Macon, ChÂlons-sur-Marne, Langres, Bourges, La CharitÉ, Orleans, Tours, Moulins, Sens, Melun, Dijon, Troyes, ChÂteau-Thierry, Soissons, Beauvais, Pontoise, Paris, Rouen, and the Norman ports suffered most.[836] As always, Italy was the immediate source of the epidemic, which was communicated from place to place by the movements of trade. Lyons paid dearly for its commercial pre-eminence, for the ravages of the plague were terrible there.[837] It was at its height when the court was there in July, 1564. The English ambassador, Smith, gives a fearful picture of the state of the city. Men died in the street before his lodgings. His servant who went daily for his provisions sometimes saw ten and twelve corpses, some naked, lying in the streets where they lay till “men clothed in yellow” removed them. A great many bodies were cast into the river, “because they will not be at the cost to make graves. This day,” he writes on July 12, “from break of day till ten o’clock there laid a man naked in the street, groaning and drawing his last breath, not yet dead. Round the town there are tents of the pestiferous, besides those which are shut up in their houses.”[838] Almost every third house was closed because of the plague. The city authorities vainly tried to combat the disease by providing that visits were to be made twice a day by those appointed; but as there were but five “master surgeons” in the whole city, medical attention must have been slight. Persons affected with the plague were to be removed to the hospital—the oldest and one of the best in Europe at that time. Corpses were to be buried at night and the clothes of the dead burned.[839] “About the Rhone men dare eat no fish nor fishers lay their engines and nets, because instead of fish they take up the pestiferous carcasses which are thrown in.” New sanitary regulations were made. All filth was to be cast into the river and not allowed to pollute the streets or the river banks. Fires of scented wood were kept burning between every ten houses in the street. Pigs and other animals were not allowed at large. Meat, fish, and vegetable stalls were to be inspected and all decayed provisions destroyed.[840]

It is interesting to observe the efforts made by local authorities to prevent the spread of the disease and the relief measures that were taken. As soon as the plague was discovered, the town authorities usually set guards to watch the houses of those stricken and appointed barbers and gravediggers to treat ill and to inter the dead. These attendants were supported and paid by a tax laid upon the town. Those who were ill were sent to a house of isolation appointed to be a hospital, which was often upon the walls of the town, remote from the people. In Provins the church and cemetery were immediately adjacent to the hospital! The mortality was great. In Provins in 1562 there were eighty persons stricken, of whom sixty died, among them four of the attendants. Two of the barber-surgeons refused to serve and were proceeded against by the town bailiff and were hanged in effigy because the principals in the case had made their escape. Diseased houses were sprinkled with perfumes and aromatic herbs were burned in them in order to purify them.[841] As always, the dislocation of society and the depravation of morals worked havoc in the community. Crimes of violence were common.[842]

Little by little, however, this picture of misery faded into the background of the queen’s mind and the question of political expediency, which was always the lodestar of her policy, became her primary consideration.[843] The Catholics plucked up courage as the court progressed[844] and Huguenot suspicion of the queen’s course was early aroused. Shortly after the tour of the provinces had begun, and while the court was still at Troyes pending the signature of the treaty of peace, there was a jar between D’Andelot and the queen mother, who would not permit him to choose his own captains and other officers as was customarily permitted to colonels. Partially in consequence of this affront, and partially to avoid being compromised more with Queen Elizabeth, D’Andelot, the prince of CondÉ, and the cardinal ChÂtillon all remained away from the sessions of the council while the terms of peace were under consideration, and when the court resumed its migration, no one of these attended it.[845] Indeed, after the court left ChÂlons-sur-Marne, so wide was the breach between the prince of CondÉ, the admiral and all of that faction, and the court, that the chancellor L’HÔpital was the only official who continued to treat them with deference.[846] The consideration shown Jeanne d’Albret only partially relieved the suspicions of the Protestants.[847]

We find the anxiety of the Protestants over the situation reflected in the proceedings of the provincial synod of the Reformed churches of the region through which the court had been traveling during this season, namely the churches of Champagne, Brie, Picardy, the Ile-de-France, and the French Vexin.[848] This synod assembled on April 27, 1564, at La FertÉ-sous-Jouarre, and was composed of forty-five ministers. Letters were read from many parts of France and abroad, among which was one from Beza bidding the Huguenots to be on their guard as the priests were contributing money for the purpose of rooting out the truth. It was agreed by the body to reply that the Protestants were suspicious of the intentions of the queen mother.[849] In its resolutions the synod condemned the policy of the magistrates who cloaked their religious animosity under the guise of the law,[850] and complained that the Catholics were carrying the King about the country in order to show him the ruin of their churches.[851] The moderate La Roche even went so far as to declare that the Reformed church never could have peace while the queen mother governed.

Justice and historical accuracy, however, require that it be said that the Huguenots’ own conduct was sometimes in violation of the privileges granted them by the Edict of Amboise. Their iconoclasm toward the images and the pictures which the Catholics considered sacred was outrageous; they failed to confine their worship to authorized places, so that the magistrates were acting within their rights in so far repressing Protestant worship; their provincial synods not infrequently were inflammatory political assemblies.[852] On the other hand, the Catholics wilfully molested the Huguenots, interfering in their congregations, and compelling them to pay tithes and other dues for the support of the Catholic poor and even—Castelnau says—to support their provincial leagues.[853]

But the Huguenots went too far in their suspicion of the government. Beza, at the synod of La FertÉ-sous-Jouarre had been apprehensive of a joint attack of France and Savoy upon Geneva, not knowing that the French aim was to renew the alliance with the Catholic cantons in order to prevent Spanish ascendency there.[854] Bern and Zurich were the pillars of French ascendency in the Alpine country. France counted upon them more than upon all else to prevent Spanish recruiting, and to close the Alpine passes to Spain’s army. To this end BelliÈvre, the marshal Vieilleville, and the bishop of Limoges, who had returned from Madrid, where he was succeeded by St. Sulpice, were sent into Switzerland in the early spring of 1564 to penetrate the designs of Spain, and to promise an early payment of the French debts due to the cantons in return for their military support in the wars of Henry II.[855] BelliÈvre’s particular mission was to the Grisons. The position of the Grisons was a precarious one, for Spain could attack them from the Valteline, or starve them by prohibiting the exportation of grain into the country from Lombardy. By using such threats the Spanish governor of Milan hoped to compel the adherence of the Grisons to a treaty which would open to Spanish and imperial arms the great Alpine routes of the SplÜgen, the Bernina, and the Stelvio, thus connecting the territories of the two branches of the Hapsburg house and shutting France out from eastern Switzerland. BelliÈvre fraternized with the popular element, and by May, 1564, had almost completely neutralized the success of his Spanish rival in spite of Spanish gold. Fortunately for France the Ten Jurisdictions declared in her favor and the Grisons, though very Spaniardized, luckily had a French pensioner as its chief magistrate, the Swiss captain Florin.

Meanwhile the negotiations of the bishop of Limoges and the marshal Vieilleville had progressed so far that the treaty of alliance was all but signed. Late in October BelliÈvre received from Freiburg the text of the articles of alliance which the bishop of Limoges and the marshal Vieilleville proposed to submit to the Swiss diet. Encouraged by this success, he went to Glarus in order to overcome the influence of the Zurich preachers who were outspoken enemies of the French alliance, and if possible to settle the difference between that state and Schwytz. By great dexterity he prevailed upon the two cantons to accept a uniform treaty. But he could not push negotiations to a conclusion until hearing from his colleagues.

Spain made a supreme effort to secure the opening of the passages between the Tyrol and the Milanais, but failed because the Grisons promised France that they would accept the principle of a renewed alliance, leaving the settlement of details pending, so that although the supremacy of France in Switzerland was not absolutely assured, at least the adherence of the three leagues to her seemed assured.

But the Escurial and the Vatican were leagued to destroy French influence in Switzerland. Spain gave up hope of compelling the cantons to make a direct alliance with her, but by means of commercial threats and commercial inducements counted on still keeping the Alpine passes open to her arms. Her maxim was, where the grain of Lombardy goes, there Spain’s armies may go, too. To neutralize this danger the French energetically opposed any renewal of an alliance between the Vatican and the Swiss cantons. The Grey League, later won by the commercial promises of Spain, separated from the other two in the end, but its defection was not so serious as it might have been, since according to the joint constitution the vote of two leagues in matters of foreign policy compelled the adherence of the third. But in order further to strengthen the hold of France, the French ambassadors had recourse to a sort of referendum in order to secure an approval of the majority of all the Swiss towns in favor of the French alliance, in addition to the official action of the three leagues. The success of this stroke was complete and the general diet of the three leagues gave its adherence to the treaty of Freiburg concluded by the bishop of Limoges and the marshal Vieilleville on December 7, 1564.[856] The poverty of France, however, seriously endangered the continuance of this alliance. When it was concluded, France tried to stave off payment of her debts, which amounted to more than 600,000 livres, yet demanded the execution of the articles of Freiburg. Glarus, Lucerne, Schwytz, Appenzell, Valais, the Grisons, Schaffhausen, and Basel bitterly complained, the last also because of the burdens laid upon the importations of her commerce into France through Lyons.

In this conflict which France carried on against Spain and the Holy See in Switzerland, Charles IX was supported by the German Protestants, who of course were hostile to both houses of Hapsburg, and France may be credited with considerable address in smoothing the ruffled feelings of Basel and Schaffhausen, and softening the Protestant prejudices of Zurich. This is simply another way of saying that the foreign policy of France in Switzerland was a Protestant policy. Even Bern yielded and joined the general treaty of alliance instead of insisting upon a particular treaty, as she had at first done.[857]

The Huguenots, however, suspicious of the impending reaction at home and misreading the diplomacy of France in Switzerland, grew more and more fearful and began to turn their eyes again toward the prince of CondÉ as a leader. But fortune and the craft of Catherine had lured the prince away from his own; he had become a broken reed, dangerous to lean upon. In July, 1564, Eleanor de Roye, the brave princess of CondÉ, died.[858] The Guises and the queen mother, who were now in co-operation,[859] at once began to practice to lure CondÉ away forever from his party, and the former at the same time, in order to make the alliance between France and Scotland more firm, conceived the idea of marrying the prince of CondÉ to Mary Queen of Scots.[860] As another possibility the Guises cherished the hope of marrying their niece to Charles IX and thus recovering the ascendency they had enjoyed under Francis II.[861] The corollary of such a plan was the reduction of the Protestants of France. To these ideas Philip II, was stoutly opposed, though he concealed his opposition thereto; Mary was too valuable for his projects to be suffered to become a tool of the Guises. Their purposes were limited to France; his purposes embraced Christendom.[862]

In 1575 the Venetian ambassador wrote, À propos of one of the courtships of Queen Elizabeth: “Princes are wont to avail themselves of matrimonial negotiations in many ways.”[863] These words sagely summarize the efforts of much of the diplomacy of the sixteenth century. By a singular combination of events and lineages, Mary Stuart was necessarily almost the cornerstone of the universal monarchy Philip II dreamed of forming in Europe; her possession of the Scottish crown, her claims to England, her relationship with the Guises, united with the religion she professed, made the furtherance of her power the most practicable means to that end. Whether Mary’s future husband were Don Carlos or the Austrian archduke was a matter of detail in Philip’s plan—the end remained constant. Mary Stuart was of too much value to Philip II’s political designs to risk such a marriage as the Guises contemplated.[864] Her hand might be disposed elsewhere with greater advantage.

Those intense religious convictions of the Spanish King which made him believe he was the divinely ordained instrument of the counter-Reformation, united with his political purposes and ambitions, required him to keep a watchful eye upon France.[865] The Netherlands, France, Italy, England, Scotland were like so many squares of a vast political chessboard upon which he aimed so to move the pieces he was in command of as ultimately to seize possession of those countries, and redeem them from heresy. Mary Stuart was an important personage in Philip’s purposes. He wanted to put her on the throne of Elizabeth and thus unite Scotland and England under a common Catholic rule. For a time he dreamed of marrying her to his own son, Don Carlos, until Catherine interfered and offered her daughter Marguerite as a less dangerous alternative to France. The death of Don Carlos,[866] the eternal irresolution of the Spanish King, the development of new events, continually altered the details of Philip’s purposes, but his essential aim never varied an iota.[867]

The subjugation of France, not in the exact terms of loss of sovereignty, perhaps, but no less in loss of true national independence was a necessary condition of Philip’s purposes. The kingdom of France was situated in the very center of those dominions whose consolidation was to be the Spanish King’s realization of universal rule. Spain bordered her on the south; the Netherlands on the north; in the east lay Franche ComtÉ. Besides these territories which were directly Spanish, the Catholic cantons of Switzerland and Savoy were morally in vassalage to Spain. Beyond Franche ComtÉ lay the Catholic Rhinelands, bound to the other branch of the house of Hapsburg. Beyond Switzerland and Savoy lay Italy, save Venice entirely, and Rome in part, a group of Spanish dominions.

Catherine de Medici combated Philip II both at Madrid and Vienna. But by the side of the negative purpose to thwart Philip’s proposed alliances, Catherine de Medici had purposes of her own of the same sort. The daughter of a house made rich by banking and which never lived down the bourgeois tradition of its ancestry in spite of all its wealth and power, even though popes had come from its house, Catherine was fascinated by the thought of marrying Charles IX to the eldest daughter of the Hapsburgs, and her favorite son, the future Henry III, then known as the duke of Orleans-Anjou, to the Spanish princess Juana, sister of Philip, hoping to see some of Spain’s numerous dominions pass to France as part of Juana’s dowry.

In the pursuance of this double marriage project, the queen early began to beset Philip II for a personal interview, and urged her daughter to persuade the king to the same end, using Pius IV’s cherished idea of a concert of the great Catholic powers to consider the condition and needs of Christendom with some adroitness as a screen to her own personal purposes.[868]

Much of her correspondence with St. Sulpice relates to an interview with Philip II for the purpose of arranging these matters, upon which she had set her heart, and the time of both the ambassador and the Spanish King was consumed with repeated interviews none of which was ever satisfactory, and all of which were tedious.[869] The natural reluctance of Philip II to commit himself to any positive course, united with the great aversion he felt toward the queen mother because of her wavering religious policy—for rigid adherence to Catholicism was Philip’s one inflexible feature—led the King to follow a course of procrastination and duplicity for months, during which, however, he never evinced any outward sign of impatience; his countenance remained as imperturbable as that of a Hindu idol, and never by any expression reflected his thought.[870]

Foolish pride and undue affection led Catherine even to use the Turk as a means of pressure upon Spain in order to accomplish this double marriage project. In the year 1562 an ambassador of the Sultan passed through France, having come by way of Venice to Lyons, and going thence via Dijon and Troyes to Paris.[871] Turkey, after crushing the revolt of Bajazet,[872] was seeking to avenge the accumulated grievances which she had suffered from Austria and Spain, especially the latter, for Philip II’s expedition to Oran and his capture of its fortress, which was regarded as impregnable, had been a bitter blow to the Porte.[873] Exasperated by Spain, Turkey whose war policy was guided by the able grand vizier, Mohammed Sokolli, prepared a vast expedition to expel her from all points which she occupied in Africa. But such a campaign was not possible until Malta, lying midway in the straits of the Mediterranean, was overcome.[874] Europe, which still preserved an acute memory of the protracted siege of Rhodes, looked forward with dismay to the prospective attack upon Malta, so that Catherine de Medici’s cordial reception at Dax of another Turkish ambassador—he was a Christian Pole in the employ of the Sultan—in the course of the tour of the provinces was a political act that was daring to rashness.[875] In order to force Philip II’s hand Catherine even intimated that Charles IX might marry Queen Elizabeth, although this proposition was too great a strain upon the credulity of Europe to be given any consideration.[876] Soon after St. Sulpice reached Spain, we find Toulouse suggested as the place for the desired interview,[877] and thereafter for thirty-eight months this conference was one of the dominant thoughts in Catherine’s mind.[878]

The queen mother’s original plan had been to avoid the heat of the south by passing the winter at Moulins, and visiting Languedoc and Guyenne in the next spring.[879] But the influence of impending change impelled her forward in the maze of tournaments, balls, and masques.[880] Although she was in “a country full of mountains and brigands,”[881] so that she feared “que cette canaille sacageassent quelques uns de sa cour,” and strengthened Strozzi’s band as a precaution, nevertheless Catherine’s resolution seems to have increased in degree as she moved southward. Probably the fact that the prince of CondÉ was in the toils encouraged her; certainly the necessity of exhibiting something positive that would please Spain, in view of the approaching interview, actuated her. But apart from her own motives, outside pressure had been brought to bear upon her to this end, when at Bar-le-Duc, where the King went to attend the baptism of the infant child of Charles III, duke of Lorraine, who had married Charles IX’s sister, Claudine, in March.[882] Later “when the court came to Lyons information was brought to it that if the King and his advisers should continue to resist the general rising against the Huguenots, it would be turned against itself.”[883] In this instance, however, the pressure came, not from Spain, but from Pope Pius IV whose agent, the Florentine Ludovico Antinori, was sent to France to urge the extirpation of Calvinism and to plead the cause of the findings of the Council of Trent.[884] Catherine obeyed the signs. But as a sudden rupture of the peace of Amboise would have been attended with dangerous consequences she proceeded cautiously.[885]

The first[886] definite intimation of the reaction was an edict issued on July 24, prohibiting Calvinist worship within ten leagues of the court, notwithstanding the fact that authorized places of Protestant worship were affected by it. A fortnight later, on August 4, came a more sweeping edict—the so-called Edict of Roussillon[887] which forbade all persons of whatever religion, quality, or condition to molest one another, or to violate or maltreat images, or to lay hands upon any sacred objects upon pain of death; magistrates were likewise enjoined to prevent the Huguenots from performing their devotions in any suspected places, but to confine them to such places as had been specified; finally, the Huguenots were forbidden to hold any synods or other assemblies except in the presence of certain of the King’s officers, who were appointed to be present at them.[888] The pretext of both of these edicts was the trespass upon the terms of Amboise by the Protestants, and fear of a Protestant conspiracy. But in reality the action of the government constituted a partial yielding to that Catholic pressure which already had made itself manifest at Nancy.

The Edict of Roussillon completely ignored a petition of the Huguenots presented to the King while at Roussillon, which shows the pernicious activity of the local Catholic leagues already. The complaint specified that infractions of the Edict of Amboise had been committed by the Catholics, especially in Burgundy; that Catholic associations everywhere were being formed against them; that the priests openly lauded the King of Spain from their pulpits; that their synods were broken up by the enemies of their religion.[889]

After a sojourn of a month at Roussillon, the pilgrimage of the court was again resumed. At Valence (August 22) Catherine received word that Elizabeth of Spain had given birth to still-born twin babes. On September 24 Avignon was reached, where a stay of two weeks was made during which Catherine consulted the famous astrologer Nostradamus. HyÈres and Aix were stages on the road to Marseilles[890] (November 3-10), whence it led to NÎmes[891] (December 12), and Montpellier[892] (December 17), and thence to Agde and Beziers,[893] where progress for some time was blocked by heavy snow-falls. The snows irritated Catherine and to placate her impatience she was shown historical evidence that both Blanche of Castile and the queen of Charles VII had once been snowed-in in these parts for three months.[894] Unlike his mother, Charles IX enjoyed it, building a snow fort in which he and his pages withstood a siege by some of the gentlemen of the household.[895]

During this enforced sojourn Catherine de Medici received word of the famous conflict between the marshal Montmorency, who had been made governor of Paris,[896] when the court started en tour, and the cardinal of Lorraine. On January 8, 1565, the cardinal of Lorraine sought to enter Paris with a great rout of armed retainers. The marshal demanded the disarming of the company, in compliance with a royal ordonnance of 1564 forbidding the carrying of arquebuses, pistols, or other firearms,[897] not knowing that the cardinal had a warrant from the queen mother authorizing his men to wear arms if so desired. The cardinal haughtily refused to obey, and a fight took place in the street near the corner of St. Innocents, in which one man was killed.[898]

The reactionary policy of the government stimulated the local Catholic leagues in Languedoc during this winter of 1564-65.[899] The religious prejudice which these associations manifested was influenced by the bitter jealousy existing between the Guises and the Montmorencys. From the hour of the clash between the cardinal and the marshal, the Guises plotted to compass the ruin of the house of Montmorency, and sought to find support in the Catholic leagues of the southern provinces. The tolerant policy of the marshal Montmorency and his brother Damville was seized upon by the Guises to make them odious.[900] The secular clergy and still more the Jesuits and Capuchins were very active in this work, going from town to town and village to village, urging Catholics vigorously to defend their faith, and their fiery preaching materially advanced the tendency to union among the provincial leagues.[901]

Under the effective leadership of the sieur de Candalle, the league of Agen had had an astonishing spread over Guyenne, exhibiting a strength of organization and an audacity which foreshadows that of the Holy League of 1576, in whose genesis, indeed, it represents an evolutionary stage. What made the league of Guyenne so peculiarly formidable, however, was not so much its perfection of organization and its wide expansion, as the fact that it was organized and had existence without the knowledge or consent of the crown, and in transgression of the royal authority, which forbade such associations. This highly developed stage of existence was arrived at by the league of Agen in August, 1564, from which date it may properly be called the league of Guyenne.[902]

Naturally the Guises approached Montluc with their plan. While the court was sojourning at Mont-de-Marsan (March 9-24, 1565), waiting the arrival of the Spanish queen and the duke of Alva at Bayonne, an intimation was given to Montluc that a league was in process of formation in France “wherein were several great persons, princes and others,” and an agent of the Guises at this time endeavored to persuade Montluc to join the association.[903] But Montluc was cautious; he had no great affection for the Guises and, moreover, leagues and such associations were against the law, which he, as a crown officer, was pledged to support. Grammont who was opposed to Montluc had already complained of his conduct to the queen mother.[904] Besides, there were private reasons, whose nature will be soon developed, which made him hesitate. Montluc carried his information to Catherine de Medici, who, not yet perceiving that the ambition of the Guises was the chief motive, was not at once seriously alarmed, since the anti-Protestant policy of the government made it indifferent now to such associations. Accordingly, when the court reached Bordeaux (it arrived there on April 9) and the Huguenots renewed their complaints against Candalle and his associates, the King ignored the petition, recognizing that many of the nobles were members of the league of Guyenne. Instead, he gave the league a quasi-legal status by proclaiming that the crown would not listen to any more complaints against Candalle and his associates.[905]

But the queen mother was genuinely alarmed a few weeks later when the real purpose and scope of the proposed league were revealed to her through an intercepted letter which the duke of Aumale had written on February 27, 1565, to the marquis d’Elboeuf. The duke of Montpensier, the vicomte de Martigues, Chavigny, who was a Guise protÉgÉ, D’Angennes, and the bishop of Mans, were named in this letter as the chiefs of an association, which had for its avowed end the abasement of the house of Montmorency.[906] Catherine, apprehending the consequences certain to result from such an extension of the feud of the two houses, implored the King, at a large meeting of the council held on May 18, 1565, to divulge what had been ascertained—that a secret association had been discovered in defiance of the law, having political aims detrimental to the monarchy, and a system of government for the levying of men and money without the King’s authority. The counselors, with one accord, denied their knowledge or implication, and protested their devotion to the cause and the law. Catherine was thoroughly alarmed, and appealed to Montluc for advice. What followed may be told in his own words:

I heard then some whisper of a league that was forming in France, wherein were several very great persons, both Princes and others, whom nevertheless I have nothing to do to name, being engaged by promise to the contrary. I cannot certainly say to what end this League was contrived; but a certain gentleman named them to me every one, endeavoring at the same time to persuade me to make one in the Association, assuring me it was to a good end; but he perceived by my countenance that it was not a dish for my palate. I presently gave the Queen private intimation of it; for I could not endure such kind of doings, who seemed to be very much astonished at it, telling me it was the first syllable she had ever heard of any such thing; and commanding me to enquire further into the business, which I did, but could get nothing more out of my gentleman; for he now lay upon his guard.

Her Majesty then was pleased to ask my advice, how she should behave herself in this business, whereupon I gave her counsel to order it so that the King himself should say in public that he had heard of a League that was forming in his Kingdom, which no one could do without giving him some jealousy and offence; and that therefore he must require everyone without exception to break off this League, and that he would make an Association in his Kingdom, of which he himself would be the Head; for so for some time it was called, though they afterwards changed the name, and called it the Confederation of the King. The Queen at the time that I gave her this advice did by no means approve of it, objecting, that should the King make one, it was to be feared that others would make another; but I made answer and said that the King must engage in his own all such as were in any capacity of doing the contrary, which, however, was a thing that could not be concealed, and might well enough be provided against. Two days after, her Majesty being at supper, called me to her and told me that she had considered better of the affair I had spoke to her about, and found my counsel to be very good, and that the next day, without further delay, she would make the King propound the business to his Council; which she accordingly did, and sent to enquire for me at my lodging, but I was not within. In the evening she asked me why I did not come to her, and commanded me not to fail to come the next day, because there were several great difficulties in the Council, of which they had not been able to determine. I came according to her command, and there were several disputes. Monsieur de Nemours made a very elegant speech, remonstrating “That it would be very convenient to make a League and Association for the good of the King and his Kingdom, to the end, that if affairs should so require, every one with the one and the same will might repair to his Majesty’s person, to stake their lives and fortunes for his service, and also in case any one of what religion soever, should offer to invade or assault them, or raise any commotion in the state, that they might with one accord unite, and expose their lives in their common defence.” The Duke of Montpensier was of the same opinion, and several others saying that they could not choose but so much the more secure the peace of the Kingdom, when it should be known that all the Nobility were thus united for the defence of the Crown.

The Queen then did me the honor to command me to speak; whereupon I began, and said, “That the League proposed could be no ways prejudicial to the King, being that it tended to a good end for his Majesty’s service, the good of his Kingdom, and the peace and security of his People; but that one which should be formed in private could produce nothing but disorder and mischief; for the good could not answer for the evil disposed; and should the cards once be shuffled betwixt League and League, it would be a hard matter to make of it a good game; that being the most infallible way to open a door to let strangers into the kingdom, and to expose all things to spoil and ruin; but that all of us in general, both Princes and others, ought to make an Association, which should bear the title of the League, or the Confederation of the King, and to take a great and solemn oath, not to decline or swerve from it upon penalty of being declared such as the oath should import; and that his Majesty having so concluded, ought to dispatch messengers to all parts of the kingdom, with commission to take the oaths of such as were not there present, by which means it would be known, who were willing to live and die in the service of the king and state. And should anyone be so foolish or impudent as to offer to take arms, let us all swear to fall upon them; I warrant your Majesty I will take such order in these parts, that nothing shall stir to the prejudice of your royal authority. And in like manner let us engage by the faith we owe to God, that if any Counter-League shall disclose itself, we will give your Majesty immediate notice of it; and let your Majesty’s be subscribed by all the great men of your kingdom. The feast will not be right without them, and they also are easy to be persuaded to it, and the fittest to provide against any inconvenience that may happen.”

This was my proposition, upon which several disputes ensued; but in the end the King’s Association was concluded on, and it was agreed, that all the Princes, great Lords, Governors of Provinces, and Captains of Gens d’armes should renounce all Leagues and Confederacies whatsoever, as well without as within the Kingdom, excepting that of the King, and should take the oath upon pain of being declared rebels to the crown; to which there were also other obligations added, which I do not remember.... In the end all was past and concluded, and the Princes began to take the oath, and to sign the articles.[907]

The weakness of the crown’s position in these circumstances is evident. Recognizing its inability to crush these local associations and fearing lest control of them would pass over wholly to the Guises, the crown tried to save its power and its dignity by fusing them into a single confederation under the King and forbidding the formation of future associations without royal consent. But the power of the crown was not commensurate with its show of authority. The leagues continued to multiply and to remain independent of the crown’s coercion. In the year 1565 the situation is different in degree but not in kind from that which existed in 1576 when the Holy League was formed.

Even the Spanish affiliations of the Holy League existed potentially at this time through the treason of Montluc.[908] For the wily Gascon, whose character was a combination of daring determination, religious bigotry and envy, in recommending the measures he did was really taking steps to cover up his own tracks. Montluc, despite his professions of allegiance, was angry at the queen mother, and quite ready to knife her in the dark. His heart was filled with rebellious envy of Vieilleville, because the latter had been given a marshal’s bÂton. Disappointed in this expectation he asked for the post of colonel-general which D’Andelot filled.[909] Instead Montluc had to be satisfied with the office of governor of Guyenne, which he regarded as ill compensation of his services.[910] In consequence of these grievances, even before the recovery of Havre, Montluc had entered into correspondence with Philip II, to whom he represented the necessity of Spanish intervention in France, on account of the double danger by which France was threatened through the purposes of the Protestants and Catherine de Medici’s toleration of them. The Spanish King at first hesitated, but soon availed himself of the opportunity thus afforded, for two strings were better than one to his bow. Profound secrecy covered the negotiations. Philip’s love of mystery and the delicacy of the matter led him to conceal the plan even from his ambassador in France, and operate through Bardaxi, a cousin of a Spanish captain of that name, who had been pursued by the Inquisition and had fled to France, where he sought service under Montluc in recompense of which he finally was rehabilitated.[911] Montluc proposed the formation of a league between the Pope, the Emperor, the Spanish King, and the leading Catholic princes of Germany and Italy to avert a union of the Huguenots with outside Protestant princes for the overthrow of the Catholic religion in France.[912] He enlarged upon the moral “benefit” of such a league to France, now ridden by the Huguenots to the imminent ruin of the monarchy, and pointed out to Philip II the peculiar interest he had in crushing Calvinism.[913] The plan was for Philip II to kidnap Jeanne d’Albret who was to be given over to the Inquisition, and to seize possession of BÉarn, and thus accomplish two purposes at once—destroy the hearth of Calvinism in France, and establish Spanish power north of the Pyrenees.[914] Fortunately for France, the French ambassador at Madrid, St. Sulpice, was informed of the plan, though he did not know of Montluc’s treason, by a servant of the Spanish queen, and Catherine de Medici’s energetic steps in the protection of BÉarn nipped the scheme in the bud.[915]

This joint plan of Montluc and Philip II for the seizure of BÉarn and the capture of its queen telescoped with another plot against her to which Philip and Pope Pius IV were parties. On September 28, 1563, a papal bull excommunicated the queen for heresy, and she was cited before the Holy Office for trial.[916] To Catherine’s credit she at once took a firm stand in favor of the queen of Navarre.[917]

It was not in the nature of Philip II to be daring in daylight. Precaution was second nature to him. Lansac’s mission to Madrid to protest against the action of Pius IV coincided with Montluc’s overtures to the Spanish King. The discovery of part of the plan made Philip timid about pushing it at all until a more favorable time at least. Accordingly he gave Montluc little encouragement, save offering him an asylum in Spain if events should compel him to quit France on account of his treasonable correspondence,[918] while to Lansac he said that “what the Pope had done against ‘Madame de VendÔme’ was very inopportune and would be remedied.”[919] In a word, Philip II dissembled his participation in the Pope’s conduct, asserting that the procedure had been taken without his knowledge, and that while he deplored the queen of Navarre’s apostasy he could not be unmindful of the fact that she was kith and kin of the queen of Spain, his wife![920]

There probably was a certain amount of spite work in Philip’s repudiation of the Pope at this time. One of the important political issues raised at the Council of Trent was the question of precedence between the ambassadors of France and Spain. Lansac, Charles IX’s ambassador to the Council, claimed the honor of going before the count of Lara, Spain’s representative, at which Philip was “picquÉ oultre mesure.”[921] The papal party in vain implored Lansac to yield. Lansac replied that “la France ne pouvait renoncer aux droits qui lui avaient ÉtÉ reconnus dans tous les prÉcÉdents conciles, et que, plutÔt que de laisser rien innover sur ce point, ‘j’Étais rÉsolu, selon le commandement de mon maÎtre, aprÈs avoir protestÉ de nullitÉ de ce concile, de m’en aller incontinent avec tous les prÉlats de notre nation, sans entrer dans aucune dispute ne composition.’”[922] Philip II refrained from making any observation to France upon the disputed point[923] pending the decision of the Pope.[924] But such a course was impossible. The contest over the question became the absorbing topic of conversation at Rome.[925] The Pope was between Scylla and Charybdis.[926] Spain claimed precedence for Philip II through the crown of Castile—“chose peu vÉritable”—and argued that the services of Philip II to the church justified her pretension; to which France rejoined that her king was historically first son of the church, the Most Christian King, who “had bled and suffered for the preservation of the Catholic religion in his kingdom, for which he had combated to the hazarding of his entire state.”[927] Finally being compelled to decide, Pius IV made a choice in favor of France, to the immense chagrin of Philip II who actually fell sick of the humiliation and recalled his ambassador Vargas from Rome as a sign of his displeasure.[928]

The catalogue of Spain’s grievances against France, besides the question of religion, the dispute over precedence, and France’s refusal to accept the findings of Trent which Philip II had recognized[929] included still another complaint. This was the border difficulty between the Spanish provinces of Artois and Luxembourg, and France. It was a complex question, partly religious, partly political, partly commercial. Like the Huguenot rebellion, the growing insurrection in the Low Countries was of a double nature—religious and political. Each side looked to the other for sympathy and support and neither was disappointed. The Huguenots retaliated for the assistance afforded the government of France by Spain during the first civil war by aiding the revolt of the Netherlands. This intimate connection of events on each side of the line is an important fact to be observed.

It was in 1563, as Granvella had divined,[930] that the intrigues of the French Protestants in Flanders became a matter of serious apprehension. Valenciennes was the most aggressive city of the religion in Flanders, and Margaret of Parma actually was afraid of Montigny doing as Maligny had done at Havre. Already the prince of Orange was the recognized leader of those who sympathized with the Huguenots. To this class England’s support of the prince of CondÉ, and above all, the assassination of the duke of Guise, came as a real stimulus. Valenciennes, Tournay, Antwerp, even Brussels were stirred. In May, 1563, the demonstrations of the Calvinists at Valenciennes and Tournay became so bold that it required six companies of infantry to keep them overawed. But this measure, instead of accomplishing the result expected, aggravated the situation, for the marquis de Berghes, the commander, was so ostracized by the nobles, that he lost courage. Philip II grew alarmed and wrote to his sister on June 13, 1563, that the example of France counseled most drastic suppression. In reply the regent and the cardinal Granvella implored Philip to come to the Netherlands, but he pleaded ignorance of the language and poverty as excuse. Meanwhile the Orange party practiced so successfully with the duchess of Parma that she inclined toward conciliation instead of coercion. This threw the regent and De Berghes into alignment, who proposed to convoke the States-General to remedy the evils—a programme which the nobles enthusiastically advocated.

The similarity between the Flemish movement and the programme of the political Huguenots in France is very close.[931] With the design of suppressing heresy in its two most active centers, Granvella proposed to imitate the method used at Paris, of exacting a profession of faith together with a pledge to observe the laws, of all citizens who wished to stay in the city. Recalcitrants were to be disarmed, compelled to sell their property, one-third of the proceeds of which was to be confiscated for the support of the soldiers and municipal expenses, and the culprits were then to be banished from the country. This drastic policy called forth a mingled protest and threat from the prince of Orange, whose wealth and German connections, aside from other qualities he possessed, gave him great influence. The government begged for money and troops, “como la liga va cresciendo.”[932] Orange’s tactics were to persuade the provincial estates to refuse to vote subsidies or to throw the weight of the finances upon the church much after the manner of things done at Pontoise. This he began to do in Brabant where the indefinite postponement of a grant of money provoked mutiny among the soldiers. In September De Berghes went out from office, having distinguished himself by not putting a single heretic to death. The change was immediately followed by the burning alive of a Protestant preacher and the protestations of the quartet, Orange, Hoorne, Egmont, and Montigny, became bolder.[933] Finally the nobles of Flanders resolved to protest to the King of Spain. Philip II, always hesitating and undecided, did not respond. To a petition which was sent him demanding the recall of the cardinal, he replied by a flat refusal. The nobles showed their offense by absenting themselves from the Council of State and used their influence to detach the regent from Granvella. At last, after months of negotiation, Philip II yielded. Granvella retired to his splendid palace at BesanÇon in Franche ComtÉ and the nobles resumed their seats in the council. But the four were irritated at Philip II’s delay in responding to their demands for reform. It was evident, moreover, by November, 1563, that something like a common purpose actuated the chief provinces—Flanders, Artois, Holland, Zealand, and Utrecht.[934]

The Calvinists were especially numerous in the Walloon provinces, and preachers from Geneva and England were active among them. The government undertook to restrain their assemblies, and the conflict broke out. This conflict, it is important to remark, did not turn upon the question of religion in and of itself, but upon the manner of treating the heretics. Philip wanted to apply the edicts of his father, which required the death penalty for heresy; but the government and Spanish officials in the Low Countries, Catholics though they were, were opposed to so severe a penalty and would rather have treated those offending as criminals than as heretics. But with Philip the extirpation of heresy was a question of conscience.

Valenciennes still remained the most prominent place of disaffection,[935] but Brussels was much infected.[936] But more formidable than local spirit was the marked tendency toward a union of the provinces[937] and the growing interest of the Huguenots in the Dutch and Flemish cause,[938] so much so that Cardinal Granvella strongly hinted at Spanish pressure being forcibly exerted upon France for the reduction of the Huguenots.[939] The cardinal hoped to see Charles IX and his mother more docile in receiving the advice of Spain since the withdrawal of Chantonnay, who was made Philip II’s ambassador at Vienna. But the theft of Alava’s cipher by the Huguenots threw him into despair.[940] The reciprocal connection between politics and religion in France and the Low Countries made the Spanish government watch the movement of events in France with vigilance.[941] So acute was the situation owing to Huguenot sympathy with the cause of insurrection across the border,[942] that although Granvella ridiculed the wild rumor that Montgomery was coming to Flanders, he nevertheless apprehended the possibility of a rupture with France and was relieved to know that precautions had been taken against any chance enterprise of the Huguenots along the edge of Artois and Hainault.[943]

Margaret of Parma and the nobles sent ambassadors to Spain to ask concession on two points: (1) that the provinces be governed by native officials; (2) that the punishment of heresy be moderated. The King hesitated long. It was not until October 17, 1565, that he gave decisive pronouncement in dispatches issued from Segovia. In them he ordered the maintenance of the Inquisition, the enforcement of the edicts, and the impoverishment of those who resisted. In a word, Philip II would not yield. The discontent against the administration of the King of Spain now turned against the King himself. William of Orange used the notable words, “We are witnessing the beginning of a great tragedy.”

In the face of the growing resistance the duke of Alva strongly advised Philip II to convert the towns into fortresses.[944] For the Flemish cities were, as yet, commercial groups, not fortified burgs. With the possible exception of Gravelines, no one of them was capable of making a sustained defense.

This suggestion happened to coincide with the English occupation of Havre-de-Grace and the possible return of Calais to England in return therefor. Such a contingency could but be viewed with anxiety by Spain,[945] and this fact, coupled with the uncertainty of developments in France induced Philip to follow out Alva’s suggestion by strengthening Gravelines. France at once became alarmed over Calais and protested in the same breath against the building of fortifications at Gravelines and the duty upon her wines.[946] In retaliation the French government also strengthened the garrisons on the edge of Picardy, under the direction of the prince of CondÉ (who was governor of the province), to the immense indignation of Spain.[947] The Spanish erections around Gravelines reacted also upon the state of things in Flanders. For new and heavier taxation was the indispensable point of departure for carrying out such measures, “unless one were willing to see everything said upon the subject vanish in smoke.” The sole effective remedy for the state of things prevailing in the Flemish provinces was, of course, to reorganize the finances and the administration of justice in accordance with the demands made by the nobles. But instead of attempting to do this, the government aimed to weaken the opposition by dividing the leaders, and the long silence of Philip II covered an attempt to draw away Egmont, who was regarded as the ringleader of the Flemish nobles at this time.[948] The Spanish government dreaded to summon the estates, as Orange insisted should be done, for fear of things in Brabant and the other provinces going the road of things in France under like conditions.[949]

In order, therefore, to provide for funds without asking the estates to vote subsidies, over which there was sure to be a conflict, the Spanish government in the Netherlands undertook to raise the needed money by tariffs. The cloth trade of England and the wine trade of France were the two commodities so taxed. In 1563 a duty was laid on French wine.[950] In the case of England, the excuse given for the high duty placed on imported cloth was precaution against the plague.[951] France at once protested against the tariff and threatened to retaliate by taxing the herring and cod trade, though the Spanish ambassador at Paris represented that such action would entirely destroy the wine trade and would compel reprisal.[952]

Flemish merchants were doubly alarmed at the state of things, for England, too, threatened reprisal by removing the cloth market from Antwerp to Embden and imposing tonnage duties on merchant ships of Flanders driven by stress of weather into English ports for safety during storm.[953] But the government in Flanders was obdurate. Granvella declared England’s threat to remove the staple to Embden to be “puerile rhodomontade.” He believed that not only would the prohibition against the import of English cloth compel Elizabeth to redress the grievances of Spanish subjects against England, but that it might even make the English government more lenient toward the Catholic religion. Furthermore, he argued, the tax would operate like a protective tariff to stimulate the manufacture of cloth in the Low Countries. “If not a single bolt of English cloth ever comes into Flanders again,” he wrote “it will be to the permanent profit of the Pays-Bas. We saw this clearly last year during the plague when the prohibition having temporarily suspended the importation of this kind of goods, there was manufactured in the single county of Flanders 60,000 pieces of cloth, or more than the sum total of the three preceding years.”[954] In the case of French wines the Flemish government even established a maximum law for their sale which cut the throat of French merchants worse than ever.[955] The French government carried the action of the Flemish government up to Madrid, where for months the duty on wine and the buttresses of Gravelines were matters of repeated interviews between St. Sulpice and the King, and were still unsettled questions at the time of the conference at Bayonne.[956] Meanwhile the conflict of the Flemish reform party became more acute because it became complicated with the question of religion.

In the light of all these circumstances, it is no wonder that Philip II hesitated long before giving his consent to an interview with Catherine de Medici.[957] Even then he imposed a number of conditions and regulations. He would not go in person to Bayonne—the place appointed; his wife was to be accompanied by the duke of Alva; display was to be avoided by either side both for motives of economy and to prevent having undue political significance attached to an interview which was to be understood to be purely personal. Philip II’s most striking regulations, however, were those which had to do with the French entourage. No one in the least tainted with heresy was to accompany the court. The queen of Navarre, whom the Spanish King carefully alluded to as “Madame de VendÔme,” the prince of CondÉ, the admiral, and the cardinal ChÂtillon were specifically named with abhorrence. The queen mother acquiesced in this prohibition, save in the case of the prince of CondÉ, protesting that, on account of his rank, it would give great offense to forbid his presence, as well as create belief among the Huguenots that the meeting contemplated something disadvantageous to them. History has shown that Catherine’s instincts were perfectly right in this particular; since after the massacre of St. Bartholomew the Huguenots—indeed almost the whole Protestant world—jumped to the conclusion that that disaster was preconcerted at Bayonne. In vain St. Sulpice argued political expediency, saying France and Spain must not be judged alike, and that “experience had proved that the way of arms had resulted in more dangers than profit to France.” Philip II’s answer was metallically hard; he would not consent to the presence either of Jeanne d’Albret or the prince of CondÉ at Bayonne, because it would be a reproach to him and to Spain for his wife to have had converse with a heretic.[958]

The last stage of Charles IX’s long tour of the provinces was from Bordeaux[959] to Bayonne[960] where the French court arrived on May 22, 1565. But that indolence of spirit which is so much associated with Spanish character seems as early as the sixteenth century to have become habitual,[961] so that the Spanish queen was forced to travel in the heat (six soldiers of Strozzi’s band died with their armor on from heat prostration), which aggravated the plague prevailing in certain parts.[962]

In conferences of state, especially international conferences, things of importance are confined within four walls. The sixteenth century was par excellence the age of closet politics. The world upon the outside saw only the fÊtes[963] that marked the interview at Bayonne. But these festivities were no more than the flecks or wreaths of glittering foam that float upon the bosom of the water for an instant and then are gone. The real business at Bayonne was politics. But the great importance for three hundred years[964] attributed to this famous interview is today proved to have had slight foundation in fact. The light of recent research has dissipated the traditional belief that Philip II and Catherine de Medici planned the massacre of the French Protestants at Bayonne, and finally consummated it on St. Bartholomew’s Day.[965] The truth is that not what was contemplated but what was imagined was contemplated at Bayonne became the important historical influence of the future. An assumed fact came to have all the force of reality. The principals in this unfortunate conference, in point of truth, were far apart from one another. Philip II’s interests were wholly political, and personalities were merely incidental to his main purpose. On the other hand, the queen mother’s interests were chiefly personal, being centered in plans to achieve brilliant marriage alliances for her children, for whose sake she ruinously compromised herself and France.

If Catherine had been less vain and less foolishly affectionate, she would have striven harder for the solution of things more vital to France. It is true she was far from ignoring these issues entirely, but she weakened the cause of France in respect to them by subordinating these to her main purpose, so that she awakened the greater suspicion of Spain by her attempts to avoid answering in those matters of most concern to Philip II and by her continual harping upon the things that were nearest to her heart, but not of most moment either to France or to Spain. When the duke of Alva drove her into a corner and compelled her to answer the questions he put to her concerning greater politics, Catherine’s replies were fatal to her aspirations. What were these matters?

Alva’s instructions were strict. He was to demand the expulsion of the Huguenot ministers from France within thirty days; the interdiction of Protestant worship; acceptance of the decrees of the Council of Trent; profession of the Catholic religion by all office holders.[966] This policy of suppression and compulsion outlined by his sovereign was wholly in keeping with his, the duke’s, own judgment. But with greater penetration and less hesitation than Philip II, Alva recognized clearly the intimate connection between the politics of Flanders and the politics of France, and favored the adoption of a parallel line of conduct at once in the Low Countries. He was convinced that France was incapable of managing her own affairs and was a menace to other states, politically and religiously.[967] The means of repression which Spain had often urged had not produced the results desired: they had only delayed the total ruin of the nation. Suggestion and insinuation must be replaced by a more drastic policy. Assassination was a recognized, perhaps a quasi-legitimate political recourse in the eyes of the men of the sixteenth century. The old generation of French Catholics upon whom Spain could rely, the cardinal de Tournon, the duke of Guise, the marshal St. AndrÉ, had passed away—one of them assassinated at the hands of a Huguenot. Tavannes and Vieilleville were reluctant to sacrifice country to religion, especially when a rival nation would profit thereby. The constable was the only old-time figure of prominence remaining, and he could not be relied on since the conflict between the marshal Montmorency and the cardinal of Lorraine, for he favored the side of his nephews and so was believed to be not far distant from the party of the admiral.[968] Power had fallen into the hands of the Huguenots, whose leaders now excelled in personal force. “The shortest, the most expeditious way, is to behead CondÉ, the admiral, D’Andelot, La Rochefoucauld, and Grammont,” Alva told the duke of Montpensier[969] and Montluc, the two most earnest French converts to this policy.[970]

But it was yet a far cry from this cool advocacy of assassination of the Protestant leaders to the wholesale slaughter of August 24, 1572. There is really no positive connection between the conference of Bayonne and the massacre of St. Bartholomew.[971] The slaughter of the French Protestants as a sect was never advocated by any prince in Europe, not even Philip II. There is no evidence at the Vatican of any Catholic or papal league for the extirpation of the Protestants. Such a solution of the religious problem was not contemplated, save by one person in Europe at this time—Pope Pius V. It is this pontiff who has the sinister distinction of having advocated general destruction of the Protestants, rather than a discriminating assassination of the Huguenot leaders.[972] The most radical action touching the Huguenots at large, it may safely be said, that was regarded practicable in 1564-65 was to forbid and prevent future conversion,[973] or else the wholesale exile of the Huguenots from the realm.[974] The alternative of total destruction was not contemplated anywhere in Europe or at any time, except in the single case mentioned.

No such crime as the massacre of the Huguenots was planned at Bayonne, nor perpetrated as the result of that conference. The principals in the case were too far apart in intention and conviction for so gigantic a programme. The paramount purpose of the queen mother was to marry Charles IX to the elder daughter of the Emperor, Margaret of Valois to Don Carlos, and the duke of Orleans (the future Henry III) to Donna Juana, Philip II’s sister. But Alva was crafty. By a series of adroit questions which tantalized her hopes and preyed upon her fears, he compelled Catherine de Medici to commit herself upon the very political issues which she wished to avoid discussing, until she was hopelessly compromised. In vain she doubled like a fox pursued by the hounds and tried to throw the duke off upon a false scent.

“France must be cleared of this vicious sect,” said Alva. In order to avoid replying, Catherine attempted, by a question, to turn the conversation to the subject of a universal league, whether it should be against the Turk or against the heretic. Alva was not thrown off. The queen resorted to sarcasm.

“Since you understand the evil from which France is suffering so well,” she said, “tell me the remedy.”

Alva sidestepped the direct shot, by suavely rejoining:

“Madame, who knows better than yourself?”

“The King, your master,” said Catherine ironically, “knows better than I everything that passes in France. What means would he employ to overcome the rebellious Protestants?”

Alva resorted to the Socratic method, hoping to involve the queen in the toils of argument.

“Has the religion gained or lost since the peace of Amboise?” he inquired insidiously.

“It has gained,” replied she.

The answer, in Spain’s eyes, was a condemnation of the policy of France; it was a thorn in the road of the queen’s ambitious hopes of marriage alliance. In her exasperation, Catherine upbraided her daughter for out-Spaniarding the Spaniard.

“I am a Spaniard, I admit,” said Elizabeth. “ It is my duty.”[975]

Catherine broached anew the possibility of Philip II consenting to have his sister marry her Benjamin—Henry duke of Orleans—and conferring Artois as dowry upon the pair.

“The king would never consent to sacrifice one of his provinces,” said Alva brusquely.

“But to give a Spanish province to the duke of Orleans,” argued the queen mother, blinded by maternal affection, “would be the same then as giving it to his own brother.”

Alva taxed the queen with maintaining a heretic, L’HÔpital, in the chancellorship, and of opposing the Tridentine decrees. Catherine emphatically denied the first charge, although her daughter again supported Alva’s indictment by declaring that even during the life of her father, L’HÔpital had passed for a Huguenot; as to the second, she said the crown of France objected to the political application of certain findings of the Council of Trent, which she hoped to have adjusted. Alva saw the vulnerable point in her reply and inquired if she aimed to call another assembly like the Colloquy of Poissy.

“I recognize the danger of such assemblies,” said Catherine, “but the king, my son, is strong enough to compel discussion only of those subjects which he may designate.”

“Was it so at Poissy?” sneered Alva.

The queen’s reply was a tirade against the cardinal of Lorraine, whom she blamed for the failure of the colloquy.

In the end there was a promise given by the queen mother at Bayonne. But it was verbal, not written, and so governed by circumstances that the edge of Spain’s intentions was dulled. Compromising the agreement certainly was; convicting it is not, for, aside from the fact that its fulfilment was dependent upon an impossible condition of things, Catherine never permitted herself to express in writing what the terms of this promise were. Our knowledge of it is dependent upon Alva’s letters of June 15 and July 4; upon Philip II’s construction of it in a letter addressed by him to the cardinal Pacheco[976] on August 24, 1565, and the dispatch of the Venetian ambassador Suriano, who was with the French queen, to the senate on July 22, supplemented by what information St. Sulpice picked up during the last days of his mission in Spain.

It is evident from the careful reading of these documents that the real triumph at Bayonne was scored by the papacy; that Spain won a sterile victory, and France met an indecisive defeat. Spain and France, being unable to carry their own purpose through as each desired, compromised on a course which was an intermediate plane of agreement to them, but which, according to the letter, was a supreme triumph for Rome, and would have been a complete victory for Rome if the terms had ever been executed. The man of the hour was the cardinal Santa Croce, nuncio in France. His services are thus reported by the Venetian ambassador in France on July 2:

On the eve of departure, the queen, perceiving the discontent of the duke of Alva, summoned the nuncio, who was not far away, to Bayonne, in order to have him at hand. It is he who has found a solution; he has satisfied both parties. I shall be able to inform you shortly as to the nature of his solution.[977]

Three weeks later (July 22) the promised word was sent to Venice in the form of a cipher dispatch,[978] the information in which had been communicated to him in strictest secrecy.[979] This intensely important document reads as follows:

Now that I have received positive information, I shall tell everything to your Signory that has happened. Since his arrival, the duke of Alva has not ceased to urge the queen to give his master a manifestation of her good will toward the cause of religion by some manifest act, and he had urged her to cause the decisions of the Council of Trent to be observed throughout the whole realm of France, for which his Catholic majesty would show his satisfaction. The queen had yielded readily to this proposition and had told him that she was very inclined to convene an assembly of prelates, of theologians, and savants, to examine the decisions made at Trent, without occupying themselves with doctrine, but confining themselves to the reform of abuses. The duke had found this offer strange and had not concealed his discontent over it. According to him, this was to oppose a council to a council, which would be the worst of results and mightily displease the king his master. Since he urged the necessity of this measure, before passing to any other consideration, and was so obdurate, the queen, being very pained to see him depart so unsatisfied, and things being so desperate, notified the nuncio, who was not lodged at Bayonne like all the ambassadors, and ordered the mareschal de logis of the palace to prepare accommodation for him and to have him come immediately. He came at once and being informed by the queen, went to find the duke, but was very badly received by him. The duke blamed and reproached him for not remaining firm in his opinion. The queen holding to the idea of this assembly of prelates and theologians, and the duke opposing it, the nuncio found another expedient which seemed to give satisfaction to all. He broached it to the queen, and with her consent communicated it to the duke. This remedy, at the twelfth hour, was very opportune. It is this: This assembly shall be held: but under certain conditions. The first is that the persons chosen to participate in it shall be of such influence as to be able to demand that no Huguenot shall sit in it; secondly, the assembly must conform to that which the queen had at first proposed; that is to say, all disputes over dogma and doctrine shall be forbidden. The queen, having accepted this, authorized the nuncio to communicate her consent to the duke, who showed himself satisfied. Both of them then came together to find the queen again, and on the next day, in the presence of the queen of Spain, the cardinal Bourbon, the marshal Bourdillon, and the leading nobles, the whole was confirmed.

Great benefit can come from this: by eliminating everything that pertains to dogma, and avoiding doctrinal difficulties, all the other resolutions which are of less importance will be strengthened, especially as the Huguenots, the only ones who can give trouble will be excluded. There is no doubt about both the king and the queen being disposed to the Catholic religion, since they have given proofs of it. I am, moreover, assured by what the queen has said, that there is no intention to touch any of the privileges of the Holy See, nor, per contra, any of the concessions made by the popes to the kings who were predecessors of the king now reigning. The execution of this convention thus arranged is not to take place until the return of the king to Paris.

The King of Spain, in the letter cited to Cardinal Pacheco, expressed his contentment with this agreement,[980] not perceiving that the application of it was capable of a great amount of flexibility. In his blindness he thought that the nuncio had broken the loaf so as to give the greater portion to Spain; while in reality the greater part was in the hands of the Pope, Philip II having actually but the difference between a fragment and no bread. In fine, no plot was entered into at Bayonne; no crime was ever committed in pursuance of an agreement arranged there. The “plot” agreed upon at Bayonne between Catherine de Medici and Philip II of Spain consisted of an ambiguous promise, the fulfilment of which was dependent upon an impossible condition of things.[981]

The affair of Bayonne was not a crime; it was a colossal blunder. The destruction of the ambitious marriage expectations of the Valois was the least loss. The irreparable thing was that France forfeited the confidence of her Protestant subjects. The secrecy that enveloped the conference made the Huguenots apprehensive of the worst. They believed that a Franco-Spanish alliance was made at Bayonne for their overwhelming; and the second civil war was the outcome of their misgivings.[982] And when finally, for other reasons, the massacre of St. Bartholomew befell them, not merely Protestant France but Protestant Europe was convinced that the false hypothesis had been demonstrated. The count Hector la FerriÈre admirably summarizes the situation:

To maintain and loyally to adhere to the edict of pacification; to open to the daring sailors of France the Indies and America, which Spain and Portugal were endeavoring to close to them; and finally to rally Catholics and Protestants under the same banner against the foreigner—this was the only true French policy. The Spaniard at this time was the enemy of France. She encountered him everywhere in her path; at Rome, at Vienna, at the Council of Trent he disputed her precedence; in Switzerland by gold and by the menaces of his agents he interfered with the renewals of the French treaties with the Catholic cantons; at the very time when Catherine and Elizabeth of Valois were exchanging false promises of alliance and friendship, Menendez was sailing for Florida, bearing orders for the massacre of all the French found there.[983]