tage. The huguenots were, indeed, paralysed by the blow; but the catholics were no less stupified by remorse and shame. King Charles himself seemed stricken already by avenging fate. He was nervous, and agitated. The blood he had spilled seemed ever to stream before his eyes. A continual fever took possession of him, and henceforth never ceased to consume him. The chiefs were equally languid, equally disunited. The huguenots had time to rally, and to prepare for defence. Rochelle and Montauban shut their gates. Charles in his blindness sent la Noue, the huguenot, to Rochelle; he became its commander. The town was at length besieged, and thousands of the catholics fell before it; among them, not a few of the murderers who assisted in the massacre on St. Bartholomew's eve. At length Charles, unable to conquer, and incompetent to carry on war with vigour, granted the huguenots a peace. Rochelle and Montauban preserved the freedom of their religion; and Charles had the pain of perceiving that his grand and sweeping crime had but enfeebled the catholic party, instead of ensuring its triumph.

Catherine, in the mean time, had the address to procure the crown of Poland for the son of her predilection, Henry duke of Anjou. She had lavished her wealth upon the electors for this purpose. No sooner was the point gained than she regretted it. The health of Charles was now manifestly on the decline, and Catherine would fain have retained Henry; but the jealousy of the king forbade. After conducting the duke on his way to Poland the court returned to St. Germain, and Charles sunk, without hope or consolation, on his couch of sickness. Even here he was not allowed to repose. The young king of Navarre formed a project of escape with the prince of Condé. The duc d'Alençon, youngest brother of the king, joined in it. A body of horse were to wait in the forest of St. Germain for the princes, and protect them in their flight. The vigilance of the queenmother discovered the enterprise, which, for her own purposes, she magnified into a serious plot. Charles

1574.

DEATH OF CHARLES IX.

327

was informed that a huguenot army was coming to surprise him, and he was obliged to be removed into a litter, in order to escape. "This is too much," said he : "could they not have let me die in peace.”

Condé was the only prince that succeeded in making his escape. The king of Navarre and the duc d'Alençon were imprisoned. The former, accused of conspiring against the king's life, defended himself with magnanimity, and asked, was it a crime, if he, a king, sought to free himself from durance? This young

prince, or monarch, had already succeeded by his address, his frankness, and high character, in rallying to his interests the most honourable of the noblesse, who dreaded at once the perfidious Catherine and her children; who had renounced their good opinion of young Guise after the day of St. Bartholomew; and who, at the same time professing catholicism, were averse to huguenot principles and zeal. This party, called the Politiques, professed to follow the middle or neutral course, which at one time had been that of Catherine of Medicis ; but she had long since deserted it, and had joined in all the sanguinary and extreme measures of her son and of the Guises. Hence she was especially odious to the new and moderate party of the Politiques, among whom the family of Montmorency held the lead. Catherine feared their interference at the moment of the king's death, whilst his successor was absent in a remote kingdom; and she swelled the project of the princes' escape into a serious conspiracy, in order to be mistress of those whom she feared. Lamole and Coconas, both confidants of the princes, were executed for favouring their escape. The marshals of Cossé and Montmorency were sent to the Bastile. In this state of the court Charles IX. expired on the 30th of May, 1574, after having nominated the queen-mother to be regent during his successor's ab

sence.

The character of Charles is graven in the events of his reign. He was a cruel and perfidious monster; and although a great portion of the burden of his crimes

must fall on the religion which prompted and absolved, nay, nominally hallowed them, yet to have been instrumental in perpetrating such atrocities is sufficient to damn him. One should think there was no need for this severity of language; one might suppose that the mere facts, the massacres of the time, would sufficiently provoke the judgment of every reader. But the memory of Charles IX. has never wanted defenders. Brantôme describes him as a pattern of amiability and virtue. Catholic writers have not ceased to vaunt and to excuse him; and even a modern historian, Anquetil, begs us to excuse his extreme vivacity," and informs us that "his good qualities were far more in number than his bad ones."

CHAP. IX.

1574-1589.

HENRY THE THIRD.

THE career of the new king, while duke of Anjou, had been glorious. Raised to the command of armies at the age of fifteen, he displayed extreme courage as well as generalship. He had defeated the veteran leader of the protestants at Jarnac and at Montcontour; and the fame of his exploits had contributed to place him on the elective throne of Poland, which he now occupied. Auguring from his past life, a brilliant epoch might be anticipated; and yet we enter upon the most contemptible reign, perhaps, in the annals of France. Notwithstanding the valour of Henry, occasionally directed by a mind sagacious enough when awakened, there was a weakness, a fatuity about him, that looked like a curse, for it was unaccountable. He seemed to have faculties, but no spirit to direct them. Pleasure

1574.

FIFTH CIVIL WAR.

329

He inherited

was with him the sole end of existence. from his mother a complete indifference to any principle or party. But this want of motive, which she amply supplied by profound and active selfishness, in him became apathy, combined with a distaste for aught save sensual and frivolous enjoyment. The maternal feeling that led the astute Catherine to centre her affection in this weak and infatuated son must have wrought for her much of the pain and mortification that her perfidy deserved.

Henry was obliged to run away by stealth from his Polish subjects. When overtaken by one of the nobles of that kingdom, the monarch, instead of pleading his natural anxiety to visit France and secure his inheritance, excused himself by drawing forth the portrait of his mistress, the princess of Condé, and declared that it was love which hastened his return. At Vienna, however, Henry forgot both crown and mistress amidst the feasts that were given him; and he turned aside to Venice, to enjoy a similar reception from that rich republic. In these pleasures he lingered, lavishing money, and even giving away the fortresses of his kingdom in liberality to his hosts.

The hostile parties were in the mean time arming. The Politiques, or neutral catholics, for the first time, showed themselves in the field. They demanded the freedom of Cossé and of Montmorency, and at length formed a treaty of alliance with the huguenots. Henry, after indulging in the ceremony of being crowned, was obliged to lead an army into the field. Sieges were undertaken on both sides, and what is called the fifth civil war raged openly. It became more serious when the king's brother joined it. This was the duke of Alençon, a vain and fickle personage, of whom it pleased the king to become jealous. Alençon fled, and joined the malcontents. The reformers, however, warred but languidly. Both parties were without active and zealous leaders; and the only notable event of this war was a skirmish in Champagne, where the duke of Guise re

ceived a slight wound in the cheek. his surname of Le Balafré.

From hence came

Since the massacre of St. Bartholomew's eve, at least since his frustrated attempt to escape, the young king of Navarre had remained a captive at court, under the watchful and envious eye of Catherine. Forgetful of his high destinies, Bourbon gave himself up to pleasure: some of his admirers assert that he affected to be dead to ambition, in order to lull the suspicions of the queenmother, thus acting the part of Brutus at the court of Tarquin. His desire to escape could not have slept. To support the presence of his wife must alone have been bitter humiliation to him: Margaret was at once as debauched and as cruel as her royal brothers; and about this very time Duguast, one of the king's infamous favourites, fell under the dagger of a person hired by her to avenge an insult. Still Bourbon endured all with his characteristic gaiety. "I must abandon the mass and my wife," said he, "but, with the help of friends, I hope to be able to do without either." When the duke of Alençon escaped, he pressed the king of Navarre to accompany him; but the latter would not trust himself again to one who had before betrayed him; and it was not until some time after the duke's flight, that Bourbon succeeded in leaving the court. He bent his course towards Guienne, and at Niort publicly avowed his adherence to the reformed religion, declaring that force alone had made him conform to the mass.

It was about this time that the king, in lieu of leading an army against the malcontents, despatched the queenmother, with her gay and licentious court, to win back his brother. She succeeded, though not without making large concessions. The duke of Alençon obtained Anjou, and other provinces in appanage, and henceforth was styled duke of Anjou. More favourable terms were granted to the huguenots: they were allowed ten towns of surety in lieu of six, and the appointment of a certain number of judges in the parliament.

Such weakness in Henry disgusted the body of the