mistress, sought to obtain some share of power for Catherine, the king said to him, "My good gossip, you do not know my wife; she is one of the greatest vixens in the world; if she was admitted to a share in the administration, she would throw everything into confusion."

But Catherine soon organised a power of her own, which soon became most influential in the state; she organised the celebrated "brigade of beauty;" she assembled in her court the fairest daughters of France; she encouraged, rather than tolerated, a gallantry which closely bordered on licentiousness, so that an English Puritan called her ladies "the graces and disgraces of Christendom." These

ladies were more formidable than armies; Admiral Coligni declared that an encounter with the queen's phalanx was more to be dreaded than the loss of a battle; patriotism might meet undaunted a whole park of artillery, but it was unable to sustain a battery of ladies' eyes.

Charles IX. was little more than ten years of age when he ascended the throne on the death of his brother, Francis II. During the reign of Francis Catherine had been excluded from power by the Guise faction; the niece of the Duke of Guise, Mary Queen of Scots, was the wife of Francis, and had gained an absolute ascendancy over her husband, which she employed to advance the interest of her relatives. Catherine never forgot nor forgave this opposition, and it was chiefly through her influence that the French court never earnestly interfered to rescue Mary from her unmerited and almost unparalleled misfortunes. It was chiefly through the aid of the Huguenots that Catherine triumphed over the Guises, and obtained the regency. She then endea voured to break down both the Catholic and Protestant parties, with the hope

of forming a party of her own from the fragments of both; her tortuous course of policy, her cunning, her perfidy, and her breaches of agreement, kept the country in a continued civil war, interrupted only by hollow truces, in which fresh violations of faith gave fresh bitterness to renewed hostilities. Charles IX. was deliberately sacrificed by his mother. It was necessary to her ambitious projects that he should be feeble both in mind and body, and his whole education was perverted to effect this wicked purpose. In this diabolical task Catherine was aided by the Marshal de Ketz, whom she had brought from Florence for the purpose. Towards the close of his life Charles discovered the wrong that had been inflicted on him, and resolved to take the reins of power into his own hands; his death followed his attempt to assert independence so speedily that it was generally ascribed to poison. Henry of Anjou, subsequently King of Poland, and afterwards of France, as Henry III., was the favourite child of Catherine. vannes says that she often declared, "I would peril my salvation to advance the interests of Henry ;" and history proves that she kept her word. It would be difficult to find a prince more universally condemned by his cotemporaries and by posterity. He had all the vices of his mother, hardly redeemed by a greater share of animal courage than was possessed by any of his brothers.

Ta

Francis of Alençon, afterwards of Anjou, was even more universally detested than his brother Henry. His personal appearance was most repulsive; his nose, especially, appeared to be double; hence, when he betrayed the insurgents in Flanders, whom he had previously instigated to revolt, they took revenge in an epigram to the following effect :

Catherine laboured long and earnestly to make this prince an acceptable suitor to Queen Elizabeth. It is only within the last few years that full materials for the secret history of this

courtship have been rendered accessi ble to the curious, and certainly a stranger narrative was never revealed to the lovers of scandal. Catherine's anxiety for the marriage was increased

by her belief in a prophecy that all her sons would be kings; the early death of Francis II. led her to fear that the prediction might be fulfilled by their succeeding each other on the throne of France, and she hoped to avert this by procuring them foreign kingdoms. She first proposed Henry to Elizabeth, and, when this negotiation failed, she proposed to form a kingdom for him by uniting the islands of Corsica and Sardinia to the province of Algiers. An embassy was preparing to secure the consent of Sultan Selim II. to this strange project, when the approaching vacancy of the throne of Poland opened the prospect of his being elected to that kingdom.

Margaret of Valois, celebrated for her beauty, and afterwards for her numerous gallantries, was educated in the court of Catherine, and the courses of her instruction were sufficiently varied; she studied classics and coquetry, languages and love, needlework and needless work, archery and archness, together with the usual female accomplishments of music and dancing. She was an apt and, indeed, a precocious scholar. When she was only seven years of age her father jocularly asked her to name her cavalier, offering the Prince of Joinville and the Marquis of Beaufrè to her choice: the young lady declared, without hesitation, that she preferred the marquis because he was both prudent and secret, while the prince was a boaster, with whom no lady's reputation could be safe. When her brother Henry, in order to gain support against the Guises, affected to favour Huguenot doctrines, he vainly endeavoured to bring Margaret over to the same sentiments; he burned her prayer-books and rosaries, giving her, in their place, the Calvinistic Devotions and Marot's version of the Psalms. Though not more than ten years of age, Margaret adhered steadily to the Catholic creed, and refused to sing Marot's Psalms, though menaced for her recusancy with the rod. At the age of fourteen the princess accompanied Catherine to the celebrated conferences at Bayonne, where, according to some authors, the massacre of St. Bartholomew was contrived. This, however, is certainly an error; the destruction of Protestantism was, no doubt, desired and discussed by Catherine and the Duke of

Alva, but they formed no definite plan for accomplishing their wishes; indeed, it was impossible they should do so, since Catherine would not lay aside her jealousy of the Guises, nor break off her negotiations with Elizabeth.

When Henry was appointed Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, Margaret was engaged by him to watch over Charles IX., and give information of any attempts he might make to escape from the tutelage in which he was held. While thus acting as a spy for her favourite brother, she engaged in some negotiations on her own account; the young Duke of Guise offered himself as a lover, and was secretly accepted. Intelligence of this intrigue was conveyed to Henry of Anjou, who received the news "rather as an outraged lover than a deceived brother." As he was a perfect master of dissimulation, he concealed his resentment; indeed, the princess informs us that she was first led to suspect her danger from the warmth of the expressions in which Henry professed his attachment to the Duke of Guise. "When I lay sick at Angers," she says, "but more disordered in mind than in body, it happened, unfortunately for me, that the Duke of Guise and his uncle arrived. This gave great joy to my brother Henry, as it afforded him an opportunity for veiling his artifices; but it greatly increased my apprehensions. To hide his plans my brother came daily to my chamber, bringing with him M. de Guise, whom he feigned to love very much. He used often to embrace him, and exclaim, Would to God you were my brother!' The duke pretended not to hear him; but I, who knew his malice, lost all patience, because I dared not reproach him with his dissimulation."

Having convinced himself that Margaret and the Duke of Guise were not indifferent to each other, Henry revealed the secret to Charles IX., who received it with transports of indignation; he sent for his natural brother, Henry of Angoulème, and commanded him to put the duke to death. Warned of his danger, Guise married the widow of the Prince of Ponion with all the precipitation of a man who felt that the altar afforded him the only means of escape from the grave:

Thenceforth Margaret became the political enemy of Henry, and exerted all her power to advance the interests of her youngest brother.

A husband was next to be procured for Margaret, and this was apparently facilitated by her declaration that she would accept anybody whom her mother selected. The astute Catherine was sorely perplexed by this profession of implicit obedience; she watched her daughter so vigilantly that the princess was all but in name a prisoner. The King of Portugal was first proposed as a suitable match; but the Spanish court interfered, and the negotiation terminated abruptly. The second and successful candidate was Henry of Navarre, afterwards Henry IV. of France.

Most writers represent this marriage as a master-stroke of policy, but they are not agreed whether it originated in a sincere desire to terminate the wars of religion which had so long devastated France, and prepare the way for a cordial union between Catholic and Protestant, or whether it was not a detestable artifice to allure the Huguenots to Paris, where they might easily be massacred. But a careful study of the cotemporary memoirs shows that public policy had very little to do with the affair. Charles de Montmorency, by whom the match was first proposed, recommended it as a means of creating a counterpoise to the overgrown power of the House of Lorraine. Catherine, who had learned from her spies some of the levities and indiscretions in which the King of Navarre already indulged, hoped to render him her tool by the aid of her battalion of beauty, and she actually provided him with a mistress before she gave him her daughter as a wife. Charles IX. hoped, by the aid of Henry and the Huguenots, to escape from the thraldom in which he was held by his mother and brother. Henry of Anjou was anxious to raise an eternal barrier between his sister and the Duke of Guise, having reason to believe that the marriage of the latter had not put an end to their intimacy. Alençon trusted that the Huguenots would raise him to the rank which

his brother Henry enjoyed. Margaret alone was averse; she pleaded scruples of conscience, and expressed great unwillingness to marry a prince of a different religion.

Jane d'Albert, the dowager queen of Navarre, was a most rigid Puritan the mere glitter of royalty would not have induced her to unite her son to a Catholic princess, had she not deemed such a marriage necessary to secure his eventual claims to the throne of France. A general opinion, founded, it is said, on some prophecy, prevailed throughout Europe, that the posterity of Catherine would fail in the second generation; Henry of Navarre was the next heir to the throne of France after the House of Valois; but his religion was likely to raise up so much opposition, that it was deemed prudent to strengthen his claim by a matrimonial alliance with the reigning family. In spite, however, of these powerful considerations, Jane assented to the union with great reluctance, often repeating the warning given by one of her councillors-" The liveries worn at this mar riage will be turned up with crimson."

Jane was invited by Charles IX. to visit Paris, for the purpose of expediting the preliminaries to the marriage. She arrived in that metropolis on the 15th of April, and was present at the ceremonial of proclaiming peace be tween the Catholics and the Huguenots. Charles showed her the greatest respect and affection; he called her his aunt, his well-beloved, and his chief consolation. When she expressed a fear that the Pope might refuse or delay the necessary dispensation, Charles replied, “No, aunt, I honour you more than the Pope, and I have greater love of my sister than fear of him. If Sir Pope goes on with any of his tricks, I will take Maggy with my own hand, and have her married in full conventicle." But the favour of the king could not reconcile the pious Jane to the profligacy of Paris. In a letter to her son she says " Much as I have heard of the wickedness of this court the reality far surpasses my anticipa tions. Here it is not the men who ask the women, but the women who ask the men. Were you to come amongst them you could not escape without a miracle." Catherine could not conceal her jealousy of one so superior to herself in every intellectual and moral qualification, as the dowager queen of Navarre; and she was particularly alarmed at her growing influence over the mind of King Char

les. In June, however, Jane was seized with mortal illness; and her death, at a moment so opportune for the designs of Catherine, was generally attributed to poison. Renè, the court perfumer, an accomplished agent of villany, was said to have administered the poison in a pair of scented gloves. The tale rests on very questionable evidence: Jane frequently mentions her illness in the letters which she wrote to her son. Both of her physicians were zealous Protestants; and though one of them, Desnauds, wrote several lampoons against Catherine, he never insinuated that she had caused the death of his royal mistress.

Ad

This event did not much delay the preparations for the marriage. miral Coligny, and the rest of the Protestant leaders were invited to Paris; and they went the more readily, because they knew that John de Montluc, Bishop of Valence, who had embraced the Protestant faith, and was privately married, had been permitted to retain his diocese, and stood high in the confidence of Catherine. When the admiral was about to mount his horse to set out for Paris, an old woman who lived under him at Chatellon, rushed forward, and falling on her knees, exclaimed, "Alas! alas! my good lord and master, whither are you rushing to destruction? I shall never see you again if you once go to Paris; for you will die there- you and all who go with you.

If you have no pity on yourself, take pity on your wife, your children, and the number of worthy persons who will be involved in your fate!" The admiral vainly endeavoured to console this poor woman; she did not cease to repeat her ominous predictions so long as he remained in sight.

A weighty charge pressed upon the admiral; he was accused of having instigated the assassin, Poltrot, to murder the late Duke of Guise. Poltrot had exonerated him when brought out to be executed; but, unfortunately, the admiral had published two pamphlets to vindicate himself, in which he made some admissions by no means creditable to his character. A process had been instituted against him, and though it had been suspended by a royal decree, it might be renewed at any moment, and hurried to a fatal conclusion. But the admiral had been

led to believe that the king would require his services in the projected war against Spain, and hoped to lead an army of Huguenots into Flanders.

Charles received the admiral with great demonstrations of respect, and took his son-in-law, Teligny, into his intimate confidence. He complained bitterly to this young nobleman of the creatures whom his mother bad placed round him, saying-" Shall I speak freely to you, Teligny? I distrust all these people. I suspect the ambition of Tavannes; Vielleville loves nothing but good wine; Cossè is a miser; Montmorenci is a mere sportsman; Count de Retz is a Spaniard at heart; the rest of the courtiers are mere beasts; my secretaries are traitors, so that I cannot tell which way to turn."

Tavannes was the first who became alarmed at the increasing influence of the admiral; he endeavoured to excite the king's jealousy, and when Charles told him that Coligny had offered him the services of ten thousand men for the war in Flanders, he replied"Sire, whichever of your subjects has dared to use such words to you deserves to be beheaded. How can he presume to offer you that which is your own? It is a sign that he has gained over and corrupted masses of your subjects to serve against yourself, should it be necessary. Finding that

the king paid no attention to these insinuations, he communicated his alarms to Henry of Anjou and the Queen; they were greatly moved, especially as they had learned from the king's secretaries that the Huguenot chiefs were resolved to obtain for Alençon an efficient share in the administration. Catherine now resolved to keep a close watch on her royal son, who was too weak-minded and too easily excited to keep a secret. Meeting him one day as he returned from a visit to the admiral, she asked, with a sneer"What have you learned from your long conversation with the greybeards?" He replied, with a fearful oath" Madame, I have learned that you and my brother Henry are the worst enemies of me and my kingdom."

Catherine assembled her friends in secret council; Tavannes, who was present, declares that she was greatly agitated and alarmed, thus decisively refuting the story that the favour

shown to Coligny was an artful piece of hypocrisy concerted between the king and his mother. The king's secretaries had betrayed his secrets to Catherine; they informed her that Flanders was about to be invaded by a royal army, in which all the Huguenot leaders would hold a high command; that her favourite son Henry would be exiled from France; and that Alençon would succeed him as lieutenant-general of the kingdom; to this they added, that it was in contemplation to send her from the court to some distant place of exile. Various plans were proposed; Henry of Anjou suggested the immediate assassination of Coligny, which was at once deliberately accepted by the council.

In the meantime, the preparations for the marriage were completed, and the ceremony was celebrated with regal splendour. Neither bride nor bridegroom liked the match; Margaret, when asked "would she accept the King of Navarre for her wedded husband?" stood obstinately silent, and the ceremony was awkwardly interrupted. Charles grew angry and impatient, he grasped her rudely by the hair, and forcibly bent her head forward so as to make a more awkward bow than any the court had previously witnessed. This compulsory nod was received as a sign of assent, and the ceremony was brought to a conclusion amid suppressed tittering and ominous whispers.

The marked repugnance which Charles began to manifest towards his brother Henry, led the conspirators to fear that he might be sent into exile, unless the admiral was speedily removed. It was resolved that he should be assassinated in such a way as to throw the suspicion of the murder on the Duke of Guise, and make it appear retaliation for his father's murder by Poltrot. A military adventurer, named Maurevel, or Maurevert, was engaged to perpetrate the deed. Henry of Anjou furnished him with a gun, which, from a peculiarity in its construction, was supposed to have more certainty of aim than any other ; and a house was hired belonging to a retainer of the Duke of Guise, by the windows of which Coligny was accustomed to pass every day on his way the Louvre. The following account of the mur

to

der is given by St. Auban, who was an eyewitness:

"Having had the honour of being educated in the establishment of the admiral at Chastellon, I was in his train, and quite close to him, on the 21st of August, 1572, when he was wounded by Maurevel. Several of us gentlemen belonging to the admiral's household, endeavoured to force open the door of the house from which the shot had been fired; but not being able to succeed we followed the admiral to his lodgings, where M. de Serè and I entreated M. de Teligny to permit us to mount our horses, and pursue Maurevel, having learned that he had escaped by a back door, and mounted a horse which had been held in readiness for him. M. de Teligny detained us some time, but at last M. de Serè and I procured our horses, and rode out of Paris by the gate of St. Antoine, through which we learned that the murderer had passed. When we reached Charenton, we took prisoner a servant of M. George de Lounoy, who had provided relays for the murderer, and wore the very grey mantle which Maurevel had on when he quitted Paris. We left our prisoner in the hands of the lieutenant of Villeneure Saint Georges, and sent information of his arrest to M. de Teligny, who had him removed the next day to Paris, where he was confined in the prison of Tour l'Evesque. Having sent off this letter, M. de Serè and I went on towards Melun; and being near Corbeil, where the road turns off to Blandy, we learned that the murderer had sought refuge in the house of M. de Chailly. The drawbridge was raised, and the flanking turrets garrisoned by musketeers. We therefore watched the house from a distance, hoping that Maurevel might renew his journey; but being disappointed in this expectation, we returned to the admiral."

At first the suspicions of the king and of the Protestant leaders were directed against the Duke of Guise, who narrowly escaped falling a victim to their first burst of mistaken vengeance. Orders would have been issued for the duke's arrest but for the prompt interference of Catherine. She revealed to her son her own share in the attempted murder; and though Charles was very indignant, he could not overcome his old habits of submission to his mother's will. But, in the meantime, the discovery of the gun, which Maurevel had left behind him, had in