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I 


Honoré  de  Balzac 


4 

COMÉDIE 
HUMAINE 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION         -  -  -  -        ix 


A  BOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  ME  D ICI: 

PREFACE             -----  3 

PART       I.    THE   CAI.VINIST    MARTYR                 -  44 

"          II.   THE   RUGGIERI'S  SECRET                -  233 

"         III.    THE  tWO   DREAMS               -                -  308 

G  A  MB  ARA 327 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PHOTOGRAVURES 

"TREASON,  madame!  BE  SURE  THAT 
THIS  FEI^LOW  DOES  NOT  ESCAPE  !  " 
(131)-  "  -  -  -       Frontispiece 

PAGE 

CHRISTOPHE  IN   PRISON      -  -  -  -      163 

I,ORENZO  RUGGIERI  -  -  -  .     29O 

COUNT  ANDREA  MARCOSINI  -  -  .     328 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

AND 

GAMBARA 


INTRODUCTION 

This  book  (as  to  which  it  is  important  to  remember  the  Sur 
if  injustice  is  not  to  be  done  to  the  intentions  of  the  author) 
has  plenty  of  interest  of  more  kinds  than  one;  but  it  is  per- 
haps  more  interesting  because  of  the  place  it  holds  in  Bal- 
zac's  work  than  for  itself.  He  had  always  considérable 
hankerings  after  the  historical  novel:  his  early  and  lifelong 
dévotion  to  Scott  would  sufficiently  account  for  that.  More 
than  one  of  the  Œuvres  de  Jeunesse  attempts  the  form  in  a 
more  or  less  conscious  way:  the  Chou/ins,  the  first  successful 
book,  definitely  attempts  it;  but  by  far  the  most  ambitioua 
attempt  is  to  be  found  in  the  book  before  us.  It  is  most 
probable  that  it  was  of  this,  if  of  anything  of  his  own,  that 
Balzac  was  thinking  when,  in  1846,  he  wrote  disdainfully  to 
Madame  Hanska  about  Dumas,  and  expressed  himself  to- 
wards  Les  Trois  Mousquetaires  (which  had  whiled  him 
through  a  day  of  cold  and  inability  to  work)  nearly  as  un- 
gratefully  as  Carlyle  did  towards  Captain  Marryat.  And 
though  it  is,  let  it  be  repeated,  a  mistake,  and  a  rather  un- 
fair  mistake,  to  give  such  a  title  to  the  book  as  might  induce 
readers  to  regard  it  as  a  single  and  definite  novel,  of  which 
Catherine  is  the  heroine,  though  it  is  made  up  of  three  parts 
written  at  very  différent  times,  it  has  a  unity  which  the  in- 
troduction shows  to  some  extent,  and  which  a  rejected  préface 
given  by  M.  de  Lovenjoul  shows  still  better. 

To    understand    this,    we    must    remember    that    Balzac, 
though  not  exactly  an  historical  scholar,  was  a  considérable 

(ix) 


X  INTRODUCTION 

ptudont  of  history;  and  that,  althoiigh  rnthcr  an  amateur 
polit icinn,  lie  was  a  constant  thinkcr  and  writcr  on  political 
Fubjoc'ls.  Wc  nuist  add  to  thcsc  rcmcnibrances  the  fact  of 
liis  intense  interost  in  ail  sucli  niatters  as  Alchcmy,  thc  Elixir 
of  Lifo,  and  so  forth,  to  whicli  tho  sixtoonth  ccntury  in 
goncral,  and  Catherine  de'  ^Medici  in  partieular,  wore  known 
to  be  devoted.  Ail  thèse  interests  of  his  met  in  the  présent 
book,  thc  parts  of  which  appearcd  in  inverse  order,  and  the 
gencsis  of  which  is  important  enough  to  make  it  désirable 
to  incorporate  some  of  the  usual  bibliographical  matter  in 
the  substance  of  this  préface.  The  third  and  shortest,  Les 
Deux  Rêves,  a  pièce  partly  suggestive  of  the  famous  Prophecy 
of  Cazottc  and  other  legends  of  the  Révolution  (but  with 
more  rétrospective  than  prospective  view),  is  datcd  as  early 
as  1828  (before  the  turning-point),  and  was  aetually  pub- 
lished  in  a  periodical  in  1830.  La  Confidence  des  Ruggieri, 
written  in  1836  (and,  as  I  hâve  noted  in  the  gênerai  intro- 
duction, according  to  its  author,  in  a  single  night)  followed, 
and  Le  Martyr  Calviniste,  which  had  several  titles,  and  was 
advertised  as  in  préparation  for  a  long  time,  did  not  come 
till  1841. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  ail  are  interesting.  The  per- 
sonages,  both  imaginary  and  historical,  appear  at  times  in 
a  manner  worthy  of  Balzac;  many  separate  scènes  are  ex- 
cellent; and,  to  those  who  care  to  perçoive  them,  the  various 
occupations  of  the  author  appear  in  the  most  interesting 
manner.  Politically,  his  object  was,  at  least  by  his  own  ac- 
count,  to  défend  the  maxim  that  private  and  public  morality 
are  différent;  that  the  policy  of  a  state  cannot  be,  and  ought 
not  to  be,  governed  by  the  same  considérations  of  duty  to  its 
neighbors  as  those  which  ought  to  govern  the  conduct  of  an 
individual.     The  very  best  men — those  least  liable  to  the 


INTRODUCTION  x! 

6lightest  imputation  of  corrupt  morals  and  motives — ^have 
endorsed  this  principle;  though  it  has  been  screamed  at  by 
a  few  fanatics,  a  soraewhat  larger  number  of  persons  who 
found  their  account  in  so  doing,  and  a  great  multitude  of 
hasty,  dense,  or  foolish  folk.  But  it  was  something  of  a  mark 
of  that  amateurishness  which  spoilt  Balzac's  dealing  with  the 
subject  to  choose  the  sixteenth  century  for  his  text.  For 
every  cool-headed  student  of  history  and  cthics  will  admit 
that  it  was  precisely  the  abuse  of  this  principle  at  this  time, 
and  by  persons  of  whom  Catherine  de'  Medici,  if  not  the 
most  blâmable,  has  had  the  most  blâme  put  on  her,  that 
brought  the  principle  itself  into  discrédit.  Between  the  as- 
sertion that  the  strictest  morality  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
must  obtain  between  nation  and  nation,  between  governor 
and  governed,  and  the  maxim  that  in  politics  the  end  of  public 
safety  justifies  any  means  whatever,  there  is  a  perfectly  im- 
mense gulf  fixed. 

If,  however,  we  tum  from  this  somewhat  académie  point, 
and  do  not  dwell  very  much  on  the  occult  and  magical  sides 
of  the  matter,  interesting  as  they  are,  we  shall  be  brought 
at  once  face  to  face  with  the  question,  Is  the  handling  of 
this  book  the  right  and  proper  one  for  an  historical  novel? 
Can  we  in  virtue  of  it  rank  Balzac  (this  is  the  test  which 
he  would  himself,  beyond  ail  question,  hâve  accepted)  a  long 
way  above  Dumas  and  near  Scott? 

I  must  say  that  I  can  see  no  possibility  of  answer  except, 
"Certainly  not."  For  the  historical  novel  dépends  almost 
more  than  any  other  division  of  the  kind  upon  interest  otf 
story.  Interest  of  story  is  not,  as  has  been  several  times 
pointed  out,  at  any  time  Balzac's  main  appeal,  and  he  has 
succeeded  in  it  hère  less  than  in  most  other  places.  He  has 
discussed  too  much;  he  has  brought  in  too  many  personages 


xll  INTRODTTCTION 

without  pullicicnt  intcrost  of  plot;  but,  iibovo  ail,  hc  cxUibits 
throu^hout.  an  incapacity  to  handlo  liis  malcriais  in  thc  pc- 
culiar  way  roquirod.  llow  long  ho  was  bcforo  hc  grasped 
"tho  way  to  do  it,"  cvcn  on  his  own  spécial  lines,  is  the  coni- 
nionplaoc  and  refrain  oi'  ail  wriiing  about  hini.  Now,  to  this 
sptxMal  kind  hc  gnvc  comparativcly  littlc  attention,  and  thc 
resuit  is  that  ho  mastercd  it  Icss  than  any  othcr.  In  thc  bcst 
stories  of  Dumas  (and  thc  bcst  nuniber  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
at  least)  the  interest  of  narrative,  of  adventurc,  of  what  will 
liajtpcii  to  tho  pcrsonages,  takes  you  by  the  throat  at  once, 
and  nevcr  lets  you  go  till  the  end.  Thcre  is  littlc  or  nothing 
of  this  sort  hère.  Tho  thrcc  stories  arc  cxccllcntly  well-in- 
formcd  studios,  vcry  curions  and  intcrcsting  in  divers  ways. 
Tlu'  Jiuggicri  is  porhaps  something  more;  but  it  is,  as  its 
author  no  doubt  honestly  entitled  it,  much  more  an  Elude' 
Philosophique  than  an  historical  novelette.  In  short,  this 
was  not  Balzac's  way.  Wc  nced  not  be  sorr}' — it  is  very 
rarely  necessary  to  be  that — that  he  tricd  it;  we  may  easily 
forgive  him  for  not  recognizing  the  easc  and  certainty  with 
which  Dumas  trod  thc  path.  But  wc  should  bc  most  of  ail 
thankful  that  he  did  not  himsclf  enter  it  frcqucntly,  or  ever 
pursue  it  far. 

The  most  important  part  of  the  bibliography  of  thc  book 
has  been  given  above.  The  rest  is  a  littlc  complicated,  and 
for  its  ins  and  outs  référence  must  be  made  to  the  usual  au- 
thority.  It  should  be  enough  to  say  that  thc  Martyr,  under 
the  title  of  Les  Lecamus,  first  appcared  in  the  Siècle  during 
the  spring  of  1841.  Souverain  published  it  as  a  book  two 
years  later  with  the  other  two,  as  Catherine  de  Medicis  Ex- 
pliquée. The  second  part,  entitled,  not  La  Confidence,  but 
Le  Secret  des  Ruggieri,  had  appcared  much  earlior  in  the 
Chronique  de  Paris  during  the  winter  of  1836-37,  and  had 


INTRODUCTION  xlll 

been  published  as  a  book  in  the  latter  ycar;  it  was  joined  to 
Catherine  de  Medicis  Expliquée  as  above.  The  third  part, 
after  appearing  in  the  Monde  as  early  as  May  1830,  also  ap- 
peared  in  the  Deux  Mondes  for  Dceember  of  the  same  year, 
then  became  one  of  the  Romans  et  Contes  Philosophiques, 
then  an  Etude  Philosophique,  and  in  1843  joined  Catherine 
de  Medicis  Expliquée.  The  whole  was  inserted  in  the 
Comédie  in  1846.  G.  S. 


Gamhara  exhibits  a  curions  and,  it  must  be  admitted,  a 
somewhat  incohérent  mixture  of  two  of  Balzac's  chief  out- 
side  interests — Italy  and  music.  In  his  helter-skelter  ram- 
blings,  indulged  in  despite  his  enormous  literary  labors,  he 
took  many  a  peep  at  Italy  ;  and  it  is  évident  that  for  him  the  ;^ 
country  exercised  a  powerful  fascination.  In  his  eyes  it  was 
idéal — idéal  in  its  music,  in  its  painting,  and  in  those  who 
fanned  the  tires  divine.  His  affection  for  Italy  was,  in  fact, 
about  as  ardent  and  untutored  as  that  for  the  arts.  The 
story  of  Gamhara  is  an  illustration  of  thèse  two  sentiments; 
it  can  best  be  understood  when  the  author's  attitude  is 
known. 

There  is  a  little  about  the  forceful  character  of  Andréa 
Morosini  that  reminds  one  of  de  Marsay.  He  bas  an  inhérent 
nobleness  unknown  to  the  latter,  but  unfortunately  made  sub- 
servient  to  a  banality  which  even  the  genius  of  Balzac  can- 
not  efface.  This  marring  clause  of  the  Count  and  Marianna 
is  hardly  to  be  excused  on  the  ground  of  dramatic  necessity, 
since  other  thèmes  of  this  nature  are  not  cloyed  by  baser 
earth.  The  introductory  scène  in  the  restaurant  is  good,  and 
stands  out  brightly  contrasted  with  Gambara's  music-ravings 
and  the  faint  écho  of  Giardini's  cookery  conceits.     Each  18 


xiv  INTKODTTCTION 

but  tlio  (luest  of  somcthing  unaltained — a  note  more  grandly 
uttcred  in  La  Peau  de  Chagrin,  or  La  Recherche  de  VAbsolu. 
or  tlic  wonderful  sketch,  Le  Chef  d'Œuvre  Inconnu.  But  as 
a  fresh  enibodiment  of  this  thought,  Gamhara  nuiy  be  wel- 
comed,  for  in  such  thèmes  as  thèse  thc  novelist  is  most  dis- 
tinctly  in  his  élément. 

The  fîrst  appcarance  of  Gamhara  was  in  the  Revue  et  Ga- 
zette Musicale  de  Paris  during  July  and  August  1837,  in  four 
chapters  and  a  conclusion.  In  1839  it  was  included  in  a  book 
with  the  Cabinet  des  Atitiques.  Ten  years  later  it  was  included 
as  Le  Livre  des  Douleurs  with  Scraphita,  Les  Proscrits,  and 
Massimilla  Doni.    It  took  its  place  in  the  Comédie  in  1846. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

To  Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Pastoret, 
Member  of  the  Académie  des  Beaux-Arts. 

When  we  consider  the  amazing  number  of  volumes  written 
to  ascertain  the  spot  where  Hannibal  crossed  the  Alps,  without 
our  knowing  to  this  day  whether  it  was,  as  Whitaker  and  Rivaz 
say,  by  Lyons,  Geneva,  the  Saint-Bernard,  and  the  Valley  of 
Aosta;  or,  as  we  are  told  by  Letronne,  Follard,  Saint-Simon,  and 
Fortia  d'Urban,  by  the  Isère,  Grenoble,  Saint-Bonnet,  Mont 
Genèvre,  Fenestrella,  and  the  Pass  of  Susa,  or,  according  to 
Larauza,  by  the  Mont  Cenis  and  Susa;  or,  as  Strabo,  Polyblus 
and  de  Luc  tell  us,  by  the  Khône,  Vienne,  Yenne,  and  the  Mont 
du  Chat;  or,  as  certain  clever  people  opine,  by  Genoa,  la 
Bochetta,  and  la  Scrivia— the  view  I  hold,  and  which  Napoléon 
had  adopted— to  say  nothing  of  the  vinegar  with  which  some 
learned  men  hâve  dressed  the  Alpine  rocks,  can  we  wonder.  Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis,  to  find  modem  history  so  much  neglected  that 
some  most  important  points  remain  obscure,  and  that  the  most 
odious  calumnies  still  weigh  on  names  which  ought  to  be  re- 
vered?— And  it  may  be  noted  incidentally  that  by  dint  of  ex- 
planations  it  has  become  problematical  whether  Hannibal  ever 
crossed  the  Alps  at  ail.  Father  Ménestrier  believes  that  the 
Scoras  spoken  of  by  Polybius  was  the  Saôme;  Letronne,  Larauza, 
and  Schweighauser  believe  it  to  be  the  Isère;  Cochard,  a  learned 
man  of  Lyons,  identifies  it  with  the  Drôme.  But  to  any  one  who 
has  eyes,  are  there  not  striking  geograpbical  and  linguistic  af- 
flnities  between  Scoras  and  Scrivia,  to  say  nothing  of  the  almost 


2  AMOirr  CATlllCKINE  DE'   MEDICI 

ciTtalii  fact  tlmt  tlu-  (JiuiliugiMliiii  lh>ot  lay  at  la  Spezzla  or  in 
tho  (îulf  of  (.îouott? 

I  coulil  uuilorstaïul  ail  tlils  patlont  rcsoarcb  If  tbe  battle  of 
Cjuinar  could  l)i'  <luubted;  but  Bluce  Its  cousequeucos  are  wi'll 
kuowii,  what  Is  tlif  usi«  uf  blackeiiiiiK  so  iiiiich  paper  wltb 
tlieorii's  Huit  are  but  tlie  Arabeaqui'  of  hypothesls,  ko  to  speak; 
wlilli'  tlii'  iiiost  liiii)ortaiit  liLstory  of  later  tluies,  tbat  of  tbe 
Kfforniatlou,  Is  su  full  of  obscurltles  tbat  tbe  uanie  remalus  un- 
kuowii  of  tbe  luau*  wbo  wn.s  uiaklug  a  boat  move  by  steam  at 
Hurceloua  at  tbe  time  wbeu  Lutlier  auil  Calvlu  were  iuveutlng 
tbe  revolt  of  miudï 

\Ve.  I  believe,  after  baving  made,  eacb  lu  bis  owu  way,  tbe 
suim-  investigation  as  to  tbe  great  aud  noble  ebaracter  of 
Catberlne  de'  Mediei,  bave  corne  to  tbe  same  opinion.  So  I 
tbougbt  tbat  my  bistorical  studies  on  tbe  subject  migbt  be  sult- 
ably  dedlcated  to  a  writer  wbo  bas  labored  so  long  on  tbe  bis- 
tory  of  tbe  lleformation;  and  tbat  I  sbould  tbus  do  public 
bornage,  preclous  perbaps  for  Its  rarity,  to  tbe  ebaracter  and 
fidellty  of  a  man  true  to  tbe  Monarcby. 

Pakib,  January  1842. 

*Thc  inventer  of  thls  cxpcriment  was  probably  Salomon  of  Caux,  not  of  Caus. 
This  great  man  was  always  unlucky  ;  after  his  death  eveu  his  name  was  miKsiK-lt. 
Salomon,  whose  original  portrait,  at  the  âge  of  forty-six,  was  discovered  by  the 
author  of  Ihe  Iluman  Cvmcdy,  was  bom  at  Caux,  in  Normandy. 


ABOUT  CAÏHEKINE  DE'  MEDICI  3 


PREFACE 

Whbn  men  of  learning  are  struck  by  a  historical  blunder, 
and  try  to  correct  it,  ^'Paradox  !"  is  generally  the  cry  ;  but  to 
those  who  thoroughly  examine  the  history  of  modem  times, 
it  is  évident  that  historians  are  privileged  liais,  who  lend  their 
pen  to  popular  beliefs,  exactly  as  most  of  the  newspapers  of 
the  day  express  nothing  but  the  opinions  of  their  readers. 

Historical  independence  of  thought  has  been  far  less  con- 
spicuous  among  lay  writers  than  among  the  priesthood.  The 
purest  light  thrown  on  history  has  corne  from  the  Bénédic- 
tines, one  of  the  glories  of  France — so  long,  that  is  to  say,  as 
the-  interests  of  the  monastic  orders  are  not  in  question. 
Since  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  some  great  and 
leamed  controversialists  hâve  arisen  who,  struck  by  the  need 
for  rectifying  certain  popular  errors  to  which  historians  hâve 
lent  crédit,  hâve  published  some  remarkable  works.  Thus  Mon- 
sieur Launoy,  nicknamed  the  Evicter  of  Saints,  made  ruth- 
less  war  on  certain  saints  who  hâve  sneaked  into  the  Church 
Calendar.  Thus  the  rivais  of  the  Bénédictines,  the  two  little 
known  members  of  the  Académie  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles- 
lettres,  began  their  mémoires,  their  studious  notes,  full  of 
patience,  érudition,  and  logic,  on  certain  obscure  passages 
of  history.  Thus  Voltaire,  with  an  unfortunate  bias,  and 
sadly  perverted  passions,  often  brought  the  light  of  his  in- 
tellect to  bear  on  historical  préjudices.  Diderot,  with  this 
end  in  view,  began  a  book — much  too  long — on  a  period  of 
the  history  of  Impérial  Eome.  But  for  the  French  Eevolu- 
tion,  eriticism,  as  applied  to  history,  might  perhaps  hâve 
laid  up  the  materials  for  a  good  and  true  history  of  France, 
for  which  évidence  had  long  been  amassed  by  the  great  French 
Bénédictines.     Louis  XVI.,  a  man  of  clear  mind,  himself 


4  ATiouT  c  \Tni:i:i\i:  de'  medici 

trnnslntod  tlu'  lMi<ïlish  work.  wliicli  so  ih\io1i  agitatcd  the 
last  ct'iitury,  in  wliiih  W  iiliiolc  (ried  to  cxplain  the  carccr  of 
lîichanl  ifl. 

llow  is  il  tiiat  })i'rsons  so  fainous  as  kinga  and  queens,  so 
important  as  gênerais  of  great  armics,  become  objecta  of 
aversion  or  dérision?  Ilalf  the  world  hésitâtes  between  the 
Bong  on  Marlborough  and  the  history  of  England,  as  they 
do  between  pojiular  tradition  and  history  as  conceming 
Charles  IX. 

At  ail  periods  wlien  great  battles  are  fought  between  the 
niasses  and  tbe  authorities,  the  populace  créâtes  an  ogresque 
figure — to  coin  a  word  for  the  sake  of  its  exactitude.  Thus 
in  our  own  tinie,  but  for  the  Memorials  of  Saint-IIelena, 
and  the  controversies  of  liojalists  and  Bonapartists,  there 
was  scarcely  a  chance  but  tliat  Napoléon  would  hâve  been  mis- 
understood.  Another  Abbé  de  Pradt  or  two,  a  few  more 
newspaper  articles,  and  Napoléon  from  an  Emperor  would 
hâve  become  an  Ogre. 

IIow  is  error  propagated  and  accredited?  The  mystery 
is  accomplished  under  our  eyes  without  our  discerning  the 
process.  No  one  suspects  how  greatly  printing  has  helped 
to  give  body  both  to  the  envy  which  attends  persons  in  high 
places,  and  to  the  popular  irony  which  sums  up  the  converse 
view  of  every  great  historical  fact.  For  instance,  every  bad 
horse  in  France  that  needs  flogging  is  called  after  the  Prince 
de  Polignac;  and  so  who  knows  what  opinion  the  future  raay 
hold  as  to  the  Prince  de  Polignac's  coup  d'Etat?  In  consé- 
quence of  a  caprice  of  Shakespeare's — a  stroke  of  revenge 
perhaps,  like  that  of  Beaumarchais  on  Bergasse  (Begearss) — 
Falstaflf,  in  England,  is  a  type  of  the  grotesque;  his  name 
raises  a  laugh,  he  is  the  King  of  Bufîoons.  Now,  instead  of 
being  enormously  fat,  ridiculously  amorous,  vain,  old, 
dninken,  and  a  comipter  of  youth,  Falstafï  was  one  of  the 
most  important  figures  of  his  timo,  a  Knight  of  the  Garter, 
holding  high  command.  At  the  date  of  Henry  V.'s  accession, 
Falstaff  was  at  most  four-and-thirty.  This  General,  who  dis- 
tinguished  himself  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt,  where  he  took 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  5 

the  Duc  d'Alençon  prisoner,  in  1420  took  the  town  of  Monte- 
reau,  which  was  stoutly  defended.  Finally,  under  Ilenr}^  VI., 
he  beat  ten  thousand  Frenchmcn  with  fifteen  hundred  men 
who  were  dropping  with  fatigue  and  hunger.  So  much  for 
valor  ! 

If  we  turn  to  literature,  Eabelais,  among  the  French,  a 
sober  man  who  drank  uothing  but  water,  is  thought  of  as 
a  lover  of  good  cheer  and  a  persistent  sot.  Hundreds  of  ab- 
surd  stories  hâve  been  coined  concerning  the  author  of  one 
of  the  finest  books  in  French  literature,  Pantagruel. 

Aretino,  Titian's  friend,  and  the  Voltaire  of  his  day,  is 
now  credited  with  a  réputation,  in  complète  antagonism  with 
his  Works  and  character,  which  he  acquired  by  his  over  free 
wit,  characteristic  of  the  writings  of  an  âge  when  gross  jests 
were  held  in  honor,  and  qucens  and  cardinals  indited  taies 
which  are  now  considered  licentious.  Instances  might  be 
infinitely  multiplied. 

In  France,  and  at  the  most  important  period  of  our  his- 
tor}',  Catherine  de'  Medici  has  sulfered  more  from  popular 
error  than  any  other  woman,  unless  it  be  Brunehaut  or  Frédé- 
gonde  ;  while  Marie  de'  Medici,  whose  every  action  was  preju- 
dicial  to  France,  has  escaped  the  disgrâce  that  should  cover 
her  name.  Marie  dissipated  the  treasure  amassed  by  Henri 
IV.;  she  never  purged  herself  of  the  suspicion  that  she  was 
cognizant  of  his  murder;  Epernon,  who  had  long  known 
Kavaillac,  and  who  did  not  parry  his  blow,  was  intimate  with 
the  Queen  ;  she  compelled  her  son  to  banish  her  from  France, 
where  she  was  fostering  the  rébellion  of  her  other  son,  Gas- 
ton; and  Eichelieu's  triumph  over  her  on  the  Journée  des 
Dupes  was  due  solely  to  the  Cardinal's  revealing  to  Louis 
XIII.  certain  documents  secreted  after  the  death  of 
Henri  IV. 

Catherine  de'  Medici,  on  the  contrary,  saved  the  throne 
of  France,  she  maintained  the  Royal  authority  under  circum- 
stances  to  which  more  than  one  great  prince  would  hâve  suc- 
cumbed.  Face  to  face  with  such  leaders  of  the  factions  and 
ambitions  of  the  houses  of  Guise  and  of  Bourbon  as  the  two 


6  ABOUT  CATIIEIUNIC  DE"   MKDICI 

Canlinals  di'  Lorraine  and  tlu'  Iwo  "Balafrés,"  thc  two 
Princes  de  Condé,  Quecn  Jeanne  d'Albrot,  Henri  IV.,  tho 
Connétable  de  Montmorency,  Calvin,  the  Colignys,  and  Théo- 
dore de  liè/.e,  the  was  foreed  to  put  forth  thc  rarest  fine  quali- 
ties.  the  inost  csseutial  gifts  of  slalesnuiusliip,  under  thc  (ire 
of  the  Calviuist  press.  Thèse,  at  any  rate,  are  indisputable 
factâ.  And  to  the  etudcnt  who  digs  dcep  into  the  history  of 
the  sixteentli  ccntury  in  France,  the  figure  of  Catherine  de' 
MtHlici  stands  ont  as  that  of  a  great  king. 

Whcn  once  caluninics  arc  undcrniincd  by  facts  laborionsly 
brougiit  to  light  froni  undcr  the  contradictions  of  panipiilcts 
and  false  anecdotes,  cverything  is  explained  to  the  glory  of 
this  wonderful  wonian,  who  had  none  of  the  weakness  of  lier 
BOX,  who  lived  chaste  in  the  inidst  of  the  gallantries  of  the 
most  licentious  Court  in  Europe,  and  who,  notwithstanding 
hcr  lack  of  moncy,  ercctcd  noble  buildings,  as  if  to  make 
good  the  losses  caused  by  tho  destructive  Calvinists,  who  in- 
jured  Art  as  deeply  as  they  did  the  body  politie. 

Ilennned  in  between  a  race  of  princes  who  proclaimed 
theniselves  the  hoirs  of  Charlemagne,  and  a  factions  younger 
branch  that  was  eagcr  to  bury  the  Connétable  de  Bourbon's 
treason  undcr  thc  throne;  obliged,  too,  to  fight  down  a  heresy 
on  the  verge  of  devouring  the  Monarchy,  without  friends, 
and  aware  of  treachery  in  the  chiefs  of  the  Catholic  party 
and  of  republicanism  in  the  Calvinists,  Catherine  used  the 
most  dangerous  but  the  surest  of  political  weapons — Craf t.  She 
determined  to  deceive  by  tums  the  party  that  was  anxious 
to  secure  the  downfall  of  the  House  of  Valois,  the  Bourbons 
who  aimed  at  the  Crown,  and  the  Keformers — the  Radicals 
of  that  day,  who  dreamed  of  an  impossible  republic,  like  those 
of  our  own  day,  who,  liowever,  hâve  notliing  to  reform.  In- 
deed,  so  long  as  she  lived,  the  Valois  sat  on  the  throne.  The 
great  de  Thou  understood  the  worth  of  this  woman  wlien  he 
exclaimed,  on  hearing  of  her  death: 

"It  is  not  a  woman,  it  is  Royalty  that  dies  in  her!" 

Catherine  had,  in  fact,  the  sensé  of  Royalty  in  the  highest 
degree,  and  she  defended  it  with  admirable  courage  and  per- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  7 

sistency.  The  reproaches  flung  at  her  by  Calvinist  writers 
are  indeed  her  glory  ;  she  earned  them  solely  by  her  triumphs. 
And  how  was  she  to  triumph  but  by  cunning?  Hère  lies  the 
whole  question. 

As  to  violence — ^that  method  bears  on  one  of  the  most 
hotly  disputed  points  of  poliey,  which,  in  récent  days,  has 
been  answered  hère,  on  the  spot  where  a  big  stone  from  Egypt 
has  been  placed  to  wipe  out  the  memory  of  régicide,  and  to 
stand  as  an  emblem  of  the  materialistic  policy  which  now 
rules  us;  it  was  answered  at  les  Carmes  and  at  the  Abbaye; 
it  was  answered  on  the  steps  of  Saint  Roch;  it  was  answered 
in  front  of  the  Louvre  in  1830,  and  again  by  the  people 
against  the  King,  as  it  has  since  been  answered  once  more 
by  la  Fayette's  "best  of  ail  republics"  against  the  republican 
rébellion,  at  Saint-Merri  and  the  Rue  Transnonnain. 

Every  power,  whether  legitimate  or  illegitimate,  must  dé- 
fend itself  when  it  is  attacked;  but,  strange  to  say,  while 
the  people  is  heroic  when  it  triumphs  over  the  nobility,  the 
authorities  are  murderers  when  they  oppose  the  people  !  And, 
finally,  if  after  their  appeal  to  force  they  succumb,  they  are 
regarded  as  effete  idiots.  The  présent  Government  (1840) 
will  try  to  save  itself,  by  two  laws,  from  the  same  evil  as 
attacked  Charles  X.,  and  which  he  tried  to  scotch  by  two 
decrees.  Is  not  this  a  bitter  mockery?  May  those  in  power 
meet  cunning  with  cunning?  Ought  they  to  kill  those  who 
try  to  kill  them? 

The  massacres  of  the  Révolution  are  the  reply  to  the  massa- 
cre of  Saint-Bartholomew.  The  People,  being  King,  did  by 
the  nobility  and  the  King  as  the  King  and  the  nobility  did 
by  the  rebels  in  the  sixteenth  century.  And  popular  writers, 
who  know  full  well  that,  under  similar  conditions,  the  people 
would  do  the  same  again,  are  inexcusable  when  they  blâme 
Catherine  de'  Medici  and  Charles  IX. 

"Ail  power  is  a  permanent  conspiracy,"  said  Casimir 
Périer,  when  teaching  what  power  ought  to  be.  We  admire 
the  anti-social  maxims  published  by  audacious  writers;  why, 
then,  are  social  truths  received  in  France  with  such  disfavor 


8  AlUM    I'  CA  riIKKINK   DK"   MIODICI 

whi'ii  tlu'V  art'  boKlly  sliitc^d?  This  <iu('sti()n  aloiic  sulVicienUy 
jUTOunts  f(tr  historical  mislakos.  Apply  tlio  solulioii  of  this 
probliMii  to  Ihf  (U'vaslalini:  doetrines  wliich  llatter  popular 
passion,  ami  ti)  tho  conservât ive  doctrines  which  would  represa 
thc  ferocious  or  foolisli  atteiiipts  ol'  llie  populace,  and  you 
will  soe  llu>  reason  why  cvrtain  personages  are  popular  or 
unpopular.  Laubardemont  and  LalFenias,  like  some  people 
now  living,  were  devotcd  to  the  maintenance  of  the  povver 
they  believcd  in.  Soldiers  and  judges,  they  obeyed  a  lîoyal 
authoritv.  D'Orthez,  in  our  day,  would  be  discharged  frorn 
ollice  for  inisinterpreting  orders  from  the  Ministry,  but 
Charles  X.  Icft  hiin  to  govern  his  province.  The  power  of 
the  niasses  is  accountable  to  no  one;  the  power  of  one  ia 
obliged  to  account  to  its  subjccts,  great  and  small  alike. 

Catherine,  like  Philip  II.  and  the  Duke  of  Alva,  like  the 
Guises  and  Cardinal  CJranvelle,  foresaw  the  future  to  which 
the  Keforniation  was  dooming  Europe.  They  saw  mon- 
archies, religion,  and  power  ail  overthrown.  Catherine,  from 
the  Cabinet  of  the  French  kings,  forthwith  issued  sentence 
of  death  on  that  inquiring  spirit  which  threatened  modem 
Society — a  sentence  which  Louis  XIV.  finally  carried  out. 
The  revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  was  a  measure  that 
proved  unfortunate,  simply  in  conséquence  of  the  irritation 
Louis  XIV.  had  aroused  in  Europe.  At  any  other  time 
England,  Holland,  and  the  German  Empire  would  not  hâve 
encouragcd  on  their  territory  French  exiles  and  French 
rebels. 

Why,  in  thèse  days,  refuse  to  recognize  the  greatness  which 
the  majestic  adversary  of  that  most  barren  heresy  derived 
from  the  struggle  itself?  Calvinists  hâve  written  strongly 
against  Charles  IX.'s  stratagems;  but  travel  through  France: 
as  you  see  the  ruins  of  so  many  fine  churches  destroyed,  and 
consider  the  vast  breaches  made  by  religions  fanatics  in  the 
social  body;  when  you  leam  the  revenges  they  took,  while 
deploring  the  mischief  of  individualism — the  plague  of 
France  to-day,  of  which  the  germ  lay  in  the  questions  of 
liberty  of  conscience  which  they  stirred  up — you  will  ask 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  9 

3'ourself  on  which  side  were  the  barbarians.  There  are  al- 
ways,  as  Catherine  says  in  the  third  part  of  this  Study,  "im- 
luekily,  in  ail  âges,  hypocritical  writers  ready  to  bewail  two 
hundred  scoundrels  killed  in  due  season,"  Caesar,  who  tried 
to  incite  the  Senate  to  pity  for  Catiline's  party,  would  very 
likely  hâve  conquered  Cicero  if  he  had  had  newspapers  and 
an  Opposition  at  his  service. 

Another  considération  accounts  for  Catherine's  historical 
and  popular  disfavor.  In  France  the  Opposition  has  always 
been  Protestant,  because  its  policy  has  never  been  anything 
but  négative;  it  has  inherited  the  théories  of  the  Lutherans, 
the  Calvinists,  and  the  Protestants  on  the  terrible  texts  of 
liberty,  tolérance,  progress,  and  philanthropy.  The  oppo- 
nents  of  power  spent  two  centuries  in  establishing  the  very 
doubtful  doctrine  of  freewill.  Two  more  were  spent  in  work- 
ing  out  the  first  corollary  of  free\vill — liberty  of  conscience. 
Our  âge  is  striving  to  prove  the  second — political  liberty. 

Standing  between  the  fields  already  traversed  and  the  tields 
as  yet  untrodden,  Catherine  and  the  Church  proclaimed  the 
salutary  principle  of  modem  communities,  Una  fides,  unus 
Dominus,  but  asserting  their  right  of  life  and  death  over  ail 
innovators.  Even  if  she  had  been  conquered,  succeeding  times 
hâve  shown  that  Catherine  was  right.  The  outcome  of  free- 
will, religions  liberty,  and  political  liberty  (note,  this  does 
not  mean  civil  liberty)  is  France  as  we  now  see  it. 

And  what  is  France  in  1840?  A  country  exclusively  ab- 
sorbed  in  material  interests,  devoid  of  patriotism,  devoid  of 
conscience;  where  authority  is  powerless;  where  électoral 
rights,  the  fruit  of  freewill  and  political  liberty,  raise  none 
but  mediocrities  ;  where  brute  force  is  necessary  to  oppose  the 
violence  of  the  populace;  where  discussion,  brought  to  bear 
on  the  smallest  matter,  checks  every  action  of  the  body 
politic;  and  where  individualism — the  odious  resuit  of  the 
indefinite  subdivision  of  property,  which  destroys  family  co- 
hésion— will  devour  everything,  even  the  nation,  which  sheer 
selfishness  will  some  day  lay  open  to  invasion.  Men  will  say, 
"Why  not  the  Tzar?"  as  they  now  say,  "Why  not  the  Duc 


10  AHOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

d*()rk''ans?'*  Wo  do  not  caro  iov  inany  things  cvcn  now;  fifty 
yenrs  honco  wo  shall  carc  for  nothing. 

'riieri'forc,  acoording  to  Catherine — and  according  to  ail 
who  wish  to  seo  Soeiety  soundly  organized — niaii  as  a  social 
unit,  as  a  subject,  lias  no  freewill,  lias  no  riglil.  to  accept  tiie 
dognia  of  liberty  of  conscienee,  or  to  hâve  polilical  lil)erty. 
Still,  as  no  eoinnninity  oan  subsist  w  il  bout  sonic  guarantec 
givcn  to  the  subject  against  thc  sovcrei.un,  tbo  subject  dérives 
froni  that  certain  lib(Tties  under  restrictions.  Liberty — no, 
but  liberties — yes;  well  defiiuNl  and  circumseribed  liberties. 
This  is  in  the  nature  of  things.  For  instance,  it  is  beyond 
hunuin  j)owcr  to  fotter  freedoni  of  thouglit;  and  no  sovcreign 
niay  evcr  taniper  witli  money. 

Thc  grcat  politicians  who  hâve  failed  in  this  long  contcst — 
it  lias  gone  on  for  five  centuries — havc  allowed  thcir  subjccts 
widc  liberties;  but  they  never  recognizc  thcir  liberty  to  pub- 
lish  anti-social  opinions,  nor  thc  unlimited  frcedom  of  the 
subject.  To  them  the  words  subject  and  free  are,  politically 
speaking,  a  contradiction  in  terms;  and,  in  the  same  way, 
the  statement  that  ail  citizens  are  cqual  is  pure  nonsense, 
and  contradictcd  by  Nature  cvcry  hour.  To  acknowlcdgc 
the  necd  for  religion,  thc  nced  for  authority,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  Icavc  ail  mcn  at  liberty  to  deny  religion,  to  attack 
its  services,  to  oppose  the  exercise  of  authority  by  thc  public 
and  published  expression  of  opinion,  is  an  impossibility  such 
as  the  Catholics  of  the  sixteenth  century  wou-ld  liavc  nothing 
to  say  to.  Alas  !  thc  triumph  of  Calvinism  will  cost  France 
more  yet  than  it  bas  evcr  donc;  for  the  sects  of  to-day — re- 
ligions, political,  humanitarian,  and  levcling — are  the  train  of 
Calvinism;  and  when  we  see  thc  blunders  of  those  in  power, 
their  contempt  for  intelligence,  thcir  dévotion  to  those  ma- 
terial  interests  in  which  they  seek  support,  and  which  are  the 
most  delusive  of  ail  props,  unless  by  the  spécial  aid  of  Provi- 
dence the  genius  of  destruction  must  certainly  win  the  day 
from  the  genius  of  conservatism.  The  attacking  forces,  who 
hâve  nothing  to  lose,  and  everything  to  win,  are  thoroughly 
in  agreement;  whereas  their  wealthy  opponents  refuse  to 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  11 

make  any  sacrifice  of  money  or  of  self-conceit  to  secure  de- 
fenders. 

Printing  came  to  the  aid  of  the  résistance  inaugurated 
by  the  Vaudois  and  the  Albigenses.  As  soon  as  human 
thought — no  longer  condensed,  as  it  had  necessarily  been  in 
order  to  préserve  the  most  communicable  form — had  assumed 
a  multitude  of  garbs  and  become  the  very  people,  instead  of 
remaining  in  some  sensé  divinely  axiomatic,  there  were  two 
vast  armies  to  contend  with — that  of  ideas  and  that  of  men. 
Eoyal  power  perished  in  the  struggle,  and  we,  in  France,  at 
this  day  are  looking  on  at  its  last  coalition  with  éléments 
which  make  it  difficult,  not  to  say  impossible. 

Power  is  action;  the  électoral  principle  is  discussion.  No 
political  action  is  possible  when  discussion  is  permanently. 
established.  So  we  ought  to  regard  the  woman  as  truly  great 
who  foresaw  that  future,  and  fought  it  so  bravely.  The 
House  of  Bourbon  was  able  to  succeed  to  the  House  of  Valois, 
and  owed  it  to  Catherine  de'  Medici  that  it  found  that  crown 
to  wear.  If  the  second  Balafré  had  been  alive,  it  is  very 
doubtful  that  the  Béarnais,  strong  as  he  was,  could  hâve  seized 
the  throne,  seeing  how  dearly  it  was  sold  by  the  Duc  de 
Mayenne  and  the  remuant  of  the  Guise  faction.  The  neces- 
sary  steps  taken  by  Catherine,  who  had  the  deaths  of  Fran- 
çois II.  and  Charles  IX.  on  her  soûl — both  dying  opportunely 
for  her  safety — are  not,  it  must  be  noted,  what  the  Calvinist 
and  modem  writers  blâme  her  for!  Though  there  was  no 
poisoning,  as  some  serions  authors  hâve  asserted,  there  were 
other  not  less  criminal  plots.  It  is  beyond  question  that  she 
hindered  Paré  from  saving  one,  and  murdered  the  other 
morally  by  inches. 

But  the  swift  death  of  François  II.  and  the  skilfully  con- 
trived  end  of  Charles  IX.  did  no  injury  to  Calvinist  interests. 
The  causes  of  thèse  two  events  concerned  only  the  uppermost 
sphère,  and  were  never  suspccted  by  writers  or  by  the  lower 
orders  at  the  time;  they  were  guessed  only  by  de  Thou,  by 
l'Hôpital,  by  men  of  the  highest  talents,  or  the  chiefs  of  the 
two  parties  who  covetcd  and  clung  to  the  Crown,  and  who 
thought  such  means  indispensable. 


\'2  Auoi  r  rATin^iîiM:  \)\v  mf^dici 

rcpiilar  soni^s,  straiifïe  lo  say,  fcll  foui  of  Calliorinc's 
nu>ralily.  The  anecdol'"  is  knowii  of  a  soldicr  who  was  roast- 
in^  H  gooso  in  tho  guarilnioin  of  tlu»  Châtoau  ci"  Tours  whilo 
Catherine  and  llonri  IV.  weiT  holdin»;  a  conforcncc  tlicre, 
nnd  who  sang  a  ballad  in  wliicli  Ihc  (Jucen  was  insultingly 
conipareil  to  (lie  largest  cajinon  iu  llic  Iiands  of  the  Oalvinists. 
Henri  IV.  drow  his  sword  lo  go  out  and  kill  tho  nian;  Cath- 
erine stoppod  iiiin,  and  only  shoutod  out: 

"It  is  Catherine  who  provides  the  goose!" 

Thougli  the  exécutions  at  Amboisc  wcre  attribnted  to  Cath- 
erine, and  the  Calvinists  niadc  ihat  ahlc  woiiian  responsible 
for  ail  the  inévitable  disasters  of  the  strugglc,  she  must  be 
judged  by  posterity,  like  Robespierre  at  a  future  date. 

And  Catherine  was  cruelly  punished  for  her  préférence 
for  the  Duc  d'Anjou,  which  made  lier  hold  lier  two  elder  sons 
60  cheap.  Henri  III.  having  ceased,  like  ail  spoilt  children, 
to  care  for  his  mother,  nished  voluntarily  into  such  debauch- 
ery  as  made  hini,  what  the  mother  had  made  Charles  IX., 
a  childless  husband,  a  king  without  an  heir.  Unhappily, 
Catherine's  youngest  son,  the  Duc  d'Alençon,  died — a  natural 
death.  The  Queen-mother  made  every  elïort  to  control  her 
son's  passions.  History  préserves  the  tradition  of  a  supper 
to  nude  women  given  in  the  banqucting-hall  at  Chenoncoaux 
on  his  return  from  Poland,  but  it  did  not  cure  Henri  III.  of 
his  bad  habits. 

This  great  Queen's  last  words  summed  up  her  policy,  which 
was  indeed  so  goverued  by  good  sensé  that  we  see  the  Cabinets 
of  every  country  putting  it  into  practice  in  similar  circum- 
stances. 

''Well  eut,  my  son,"  said  she,  whcn  Henri  III.  came  to  her, 
on  her  deathbed,  to  announce  that  the  enemy  of  the  throne 
had  been  put  to  death.    "Now  you  must  sew  up  again." 

She  thus  expressed  her  opinion  that  the  sovereign  must 
make  friends  with  the  House  of  Lorraine,  and  make  it  useful, 
as  the  only  way  to  hinder  the  effects  of  the  Guises'  hatred, 
by  giving  them  a  hope  of  circumvcnting  the  King.  But  this 
indefatigable  cunning  of  the  Italian  and  the  wornan  was 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  13 

incompatible  with  Henri  III. 's  life  of  debauchery.  When 
once  the  Great  Mother  was  dead,  the  Mother  of  Armies 
(Mater  castrorum) ,  the  policy  of  the  Valois  died  too. 

Before  attempting  to  write  this  picture  of  manners  in 
action,  the  author  patiently  and  minutely  studied  the  prin- 
cipal reigns  of  French  history,  the  quarrels  of  the  Burgun- 
dians  and  the  Armagnacs,  and  those  of  the  Guises  and  the 
Valois,  each  in  the  forefront  of  a  century.  His  purpose 
was  to  Write  a  picturesque  history  of  France.  Isabella  of 
Bavaria,  Catherine  and  Marie  de'  Medici,  each  fills  a  con- 
spicuous  place,  dominating  from  the  fourteenth  to  the  seven- 
teenth  centuries,  and  leading  up  to  Louis  XIV. 

Of  thèse  three  queens,  Catherine  was  the  most  interesting 
and  the  most  beautiful.  Hers  was  a  manly  rule,  not  dis- 
graced  by  the  terrible  amours  of  Isabella,  nor  those,  even 
more  terrible  though  less  known,  of  Marie  de'  Medici,  Isa- 
bella brought  the  English  into  France  to  oppose  her  son, 
was  in  love  with  her  brother-in-law,  the  Duc  d'Orléans,  and 
with  Boisbourdon.  Marie  de'  Medici's  account  is  still  heavier. 
Xeither  of  them  had  any  political  genius. 

In  the  course  of  thèse  studies  and  comparisons,  the  author 
became  convinced  of  Catherine's  greatness;  by  initiating 
himself  into  the  peculiar  difficulties  of  her  position,  he  dis- 
cerned  how  unjust  historians,  biased  by  Protestantism,  had 
been  to  this  queen;  and  the  outcome  was  the  three  sketches 
hère  presented,  in  which  some  erroneous  opinions  of  her,  of 
those  who  were  about  her,  and  of  the  aspect  of  the  times, 
are  combated. 

The  work  is  placed  among  my  Philosophical  Studies,  be- 
cause  it  illustrâtes  the  spirit  of  a  period,  and  plainly  shows 
the  influence  of  opinions. 

But  before  depicting  the  political  arena  on  which  Catherine 
comes  into  collision  with  the  two  great  obstacles  in  her 
career,  it  is  necessary  to  give  a  short  account  of  her  previous 
life  from  the  point  of  view  of  an  impartial  ciitic,  so  that 


14  AROUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

tho  roiulor  ni;iy  ïorm  a  genoral  idoa  of  tliis  large  and  royal 
lifo  up  to  llio  timo  when  tho  first  part  of  tins  narrative  opens. 

Novor  at  any  poriod,  in  any  country,  or  in  any  ruling  fainily 
was  Ihero  nimv  conlonipt  felt  for  legilinmcy  than  by  tlic  fanioua 
race  of  tlu>  Medici  (in  French  coniiiionly  wrilten  and  pro- 
nouncod  îkledicis).  'Vhry  licld  (lie  saine  opinion  of  inonarchy 
as  is  uow  profcssed  in  lîussia  :  The  rnlcr  on  whom  the  crown 
devolvcs  is  the  real  and  legitiniate  monarch.  Mirabeau  was 
justitîed  in  saying,  "There  bas  been  but  onc  mésalliance  in 
niy  family — thnt  witli  the  Modici;"  for,  notwithstanding  the 
exertions  of  well-paid  genealogists,  it  is  certain  that  the 
Medici,  till  the  time  of  Avérardo  de'  Medici,  gonfaloniere  of 
Florence  in  1314,  werc  no  more  than  Florentine  merchants 
of  great  wealth.  The  first  personage  of  the  family  who  filled 
a  conspicuous  place  in  the  history  of  the  great  Tuscan  Re- 
public was  Salvestro  de'  Medici,  gonfaloniere  in  1378.  This 
Salvestro  had  two  sons — Cosmo  and  Ijorenzo  de'  Medici. 

From  Cosmo  descended  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  the  Duc 
de  Nemours,  the  Duke  of  Urbino,  Catherine's  father.  Pope 
Léo  X.,  Pope  Clément  VII.,  and  Alessandro,  not  indeed 
Duke  of  Florence,  as  hc  is  sometimcs  called,  but  Duke  dclla 
città  di  Pcnna,  a  title  created  by  Pope  Clément  A'II.  as  a 
step  towards  that  of  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscauy. 

Lorenzo's  descendants  were  Lorenzino — the  Brutus  of 
Florence — who  killed  Duke  Alessandro;  Cosmo,  the  first 
Grand  Duke,  and  ail  the  rulers  of  Florence  till  1737,  when 
the  family  became  extinct. 

But  neither  of  the  two  branches — that  of  Cosmo  or  that 
of  Lorenzo — succeeded  in  a  direct  line,  till  the  time  when 
Marie  de'  Medici's  father  subjugated  Tuscany,  and  the  Grand 
Dukes  inherited  in  rcgular  succession.  Thus  Alessandro  de' 
Medici,  who  assumed  the  title  of  Duke  délia  città  di  Penna, 
and  whom  Lorenzino  assassinated,  was  the  son  of  the  Duke 
of  Urbino,  Catherine's  father,  by  a  Moorish  slave.  Hence 
Lorenzino,  the  legitimate  son  of  Lorenzo,  had  a  double  right 
to  kill  Alessandro,  both  as  a  usurper  in  the  family  and  as  an 
oppresser  of  the  city.    Some  historians  hâve  indeed  supposed 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  15 

that  Alessandro  was  the  son  of  Clément  VII.  The  event 
that  led  to  the  récognition  of  this  bastard  as  head  of  the 
Republic  was  his  niarriage  with  Margaret  of  Austria,  the 
natural  daughter  of  Charles  V. 

Francesco  de'  Medici,  the  husband  of  Bianca  Capello,  rec- 
ognized  as  his  son  a  child  of  low  birth  bought  by  that  notori- 
ous  Venetian  lady  ;  and,  strange  to  say,  Fernando,  succeeding 
Francesco,  npheld  the  hypothetical  rights  of  this  boy.  In- 
deed,  this  youth,  known  as  Don  Antonio  de'  Medici,  was  rec- 
ognized  by  the  family  during  four  ducal  reigns;  he  won  the 
affection  of  ail,  did  thom  important  service,  and  was  uni- 
versally  regretted. 

Almost  ail  the  early  Medici  had  natural  children,  whose 
lot  was  in  every  case  splcndid.  The  Cardinal  Giulio  de' 
Medici,  Pope  Clément  VIL,  was  the  illegitimate  son  of 
Giuliano  I.  Cardinal  Ippolito  do'  Medici  was  also  a  bastard, 
and  he  was  within  an  ace  of  being  Pope  and  head  of  the 
family. 

Certain  inventors  of  anecdote  hâve  a  story  that  the  Duke 
of  Urbino,  Catherine's  father,  told  her:  "A  figlia  d'inganno 
non  nianca  mai  figliuolanza"  (A  clever  woman  can  always 
hâve  children,  à  propos  to  some  natural  defect  in  Henri,  the 
second  son  of  François  L,  to  whom  she  was  betrothed).  This 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  Catherine's  father,  had  married,  for  the 
second  time,  in  1518,  Madeleine  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne,  and 
died  in  1519,  a  few  days  after  his  wife,  who  died  in  giving 
birth  to  Catherine.  Catherine  was  thus  fatherless  and 
motherless  as  soon  as  she  saw  the  light.  Hence  the  strange 
events  of  her  childhood,  chequered  by  the  violent  struggles 
of  the  Florentines,  in  the  attempt  to  recover  their  liberty, 
against  the  Medici  who  were  determined  to  govem  Florence, 
but  who  were  so  circumspect  in  their  policy  that  Catherine's 
father  took  the  title  of  Duke  of  Urbino. 

At  his  death,  the  legitimate  head  of  the  House  of  the  Medici 
was  Pope  Léo  X.,  who  appointed  Giuliano's  illegitimate  son, 
Giulio  de'  Medici,  then  Cardinal,  Govemor  of  Florence.  I^eo 
X.  was  Catherine's  grand-uncle,  and  this  Cardinal  Giulio, 


10  AHOT'T  rAini'Kixi";  Dir  miodict 

nftorwnnls  CloniPiit  \'1I.,  was  lier  lefl-handed  undo  only. 
Tins  il  wns  which  iu;k1o  Branlùiuo  so  wKtily  spcak  of  that 
Topo  as  an  "unolo  in  Our  Lady." 

l)uring  tlio  sio^a*  by  tho  Mcdici  to  rc<i;ain  possession  of 
Florence,  tho  Kepublican  party,  not  salisficd  with  liaving  shut 
up  Catherine,  thon  nine  years  old,  in  a  convcnt,  after  strip- 
ping  luT  of  ail  lier  possessions,  proposcd  to  expose  her  to 
the  fire  of  tlie  artillery,  between  two  batllomenis — thc  sug- 
gestion of  a  certain  Battista  Coi.  Bernardo  Castiglione  went 
cven  fiirther  in  a  couneil  hcld  to  dctorinine  on  sonic  conclu- 
sion to  tho  business;  hc  advis(Ml  tli;it,  rallier  tlian  surrcndcr 
Catherine  to  thc  Pope  who  dcmanded  it,  sho  should  be  lianded 
OYcr  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  soldiers.  Ail  révolutions  of 
the  populace  are  aliko.  Catherinc's  policy,  always  in  favor 
of  royal  authority,  niay  havo  becn  fostercd  by  such  scènes, 
"which  an  Italian  girl  of  nine  could  not  fail  to  understand. 

Alessandro's  promotion,  to  which  Clément  VII.,  himself 
a  bastard,  largely  contributed,  was  no  doubt  owing  partly 
to  the  fact  of  his  being  illegitimate,  and  to  Charles  V.'s  af- 
fection for  his  famous  natural  daughtcr  Margaret.  Thus  the 
Pope  and  the  Emperor  were  moved  by  similar  fcelings.  At 
this  period  Venice  was  mistress  of  the  commerce  of  the  world  ; 
Eome  governcd  its  morals;  Italy  was  still  suprême,  by  the 
poets,  the  gênerais,  and  the  statesmen  who  were  her  sons.  At 
no  othcr  time  has  any  one  country  had  so  curious  or  so  varioua 
a  multitude  of  men  of  genius.  There  were  so  many,  that 
the  smallest  princelings  were  superior  men.  Italy  was  over- 
flowing  with  talent,  daring,  science,  poetry,  wealth,  and  gal- 
lantr}',  though  rent  by  constant  internais  wars,  and  at  ail 
times  the  arena  on  which  conquerors  met  to  fight  for  her  fair- 
est  provinces. 

When  men  are  so  great,  they  are  not  afraid  to  confess  their 
weakness;  hence,  no  doubt,  this  golden  âge  for  bastards. 
And  it  is  but  justice  to  déclare  that  thèse  illegitimate  sons 
of  the  Medici  were  ardent  for  the  glory  and  the  advancement 
of  the  family,  alike  in  possessions  and  in  power.  And  as 
soon  as  the  Duke  délia  città  di  Penna,  the  Moorish's  slave's 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  17 

son,  "was  establislied  as  Tyrant  of  Florence,  he  took  iip  the  in- 
terest  shown  by  Pope  Clément  VII.  for  Lorenzo  II.'s  daugh- 
ter,  now  eleven  years  of  âge. 

As  we  study  the  mardi  of  events  and  of  men  in  that  strange 
sixteenth  century,  we  must  never  forget  that  the  chief  élé- 
ment of  political  conduct  was  unremitting  craft,  destroying 
in  every  nature  the  upright  conduct,  the  squareness  which 
imagination  looks  for  in  eminent  men.  In  this,  especially, 
lies  Catherine's  absolution.  This  observation,  in  faet,  dis- 
poses of  ail  the  mean  and  foolish  accusations  brought  against 
her  by  the  writers  of  the  reformed  faith.  It  was  indeed  the 
golden  âge  of  this  type  of  policy,  of  which  Machiavelli  and 
Spinoza  formulated  the  code,  and  Hobbes  and  Montesquieu; 
for  the  Dialogue  of  "Sylla  and  Eucrates"  expresses  Montes- 
quieu's  real  mind,  which  he  could  not  set  forth  in  any  other 
form  in  conséquence  of  his  connection  with  the  Encyclo- 
pedists.  Thèse  principles  are  to  this  day  the  unconfessed 
morality  of  every  Cabinet  where  schemes  of  vast  dominion 
are  worked  out.  In  France  we  were  severe  on  Napoléon 
when  he  exerted  this  Italian  genius  which  was  in  his  blood, 
and  its  plots  did  not  always  succeed;  but  Charles  V.,  Cath- 
erine, Philip  IL,  Giulio  II.,  would  hâve  done  just  as  he  did  in 
the  afïairs  of  Spain. 

At  the  time  when  Catherine  was  born,  history,  if  related 
from  the  point  of  view  of  honesty,  would  seera  an  impossible 
romance.  Charles  V.,  while  forced  to  uphold  the  Catholic 
Church  against  the  attacks  of  Luther,  who  by  threatening  the 
tiara  threatened  his  throne,  allowed  Rome  to  be  besieged,  and 
kept  Pope  Clément  VIL  in  prison.  This  same  Pope,  who 
had  no  more  bitter  foe  than  Charles  V.,  cringed  to  him  that 
he  might  place  Alessandro  de'  Medici  at  Florence,  and  the 
Emperor  gave  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  the  bastard  Duke. 
No  sooner  was  he  firmly  settled  there  than  Alessandro,  in 
concert  with  the  Pope,  attempted  to  injure  Charles  V.  by  an 
alliance,  through  Catherine  de'  Medici,  with  Francis  L,  and 
both  promised  to  assist  the  French  king  to  conquer  Italy. 

Lorenzino  de'  Medici  became  Alessandro's  boon  companion, 


IS  AIUUT  (WTIIKUINK  DK*   MEDICI 

aiul  jvnulfn'd  to  liiin  to  p'I  an  opporLunity  of  killiiiijj  liim; 
aiul  l''iIii»i)o  Strozzi,  one  of  the  loftiost  spirits  ol"  (liât  âge, 
n'gnriiiHl  tliis  munlcr  with  such  higli  esteem  that  lie  vowed 
tliat  (.-ai'h  of  lus  sous  sluniUl  iiiarry  one  of  tlio  assassin's 
tinughlers.  The  sons  religiously  fuliilk'd  the  fatlier's  plcdge 
nt  a  tiine  when  each  of  llieni,  inuler  Catherine's  protection, 
couUl  hâve  nuule  a  splendid  alliance;  l'or  one  was  Uoria's 
rival,  aiul  (lie  o(her  !Marshal  of  France. 

Cosnio  de'  Medici,  Alessandro's  succcssor,  avcnged  the 
doatli  of  tlio  Tyrant  witli  great  cnicKy,  and  j)ersistently  for 
twelve  yenrs,  during  which  his  hatred  never  ilagged  against 
the  people  vho  kad,  after  ail,  placed  liini  in  power.  Ile  waa 
eighteen  years  of  âge  wlicn  lie  succeeded  to  the  governmcnt; 
his  first  act  was  to  anniil  the  riglits  of  Alessandro's  legitimate 
sons,  at  the  tiine  when  lie  was  avenging  Alessandro!  Charles 
V.  confirnied  the  dispossession  of  his  grandson,  and  recog- 
nizcd  Cosnio  instead  of  Alessandro's  son. 

Cosmo,  raised  to  the  throne  by  Cardinal  Cibo,  at  once  sent 
the  prclate  into  exile.  Then  Cardinal  Cibo  accused  his 
créature,  Cosmo,  the  first  (Jrand  Duke,  of  having  tried  to 
poison  Alessandro's  son.  The  Grand  Duke,  as  jealous  of 
his  authority  as  Charles  V.  was  of  his,  abdicated,  like  the 
Eniperor,  in  favor  of  his  son  Francesco,  after  ordering  the 
death  of  Don  Garcias,  his  other  son,  in  revenge  for  that  of 
Cardinal  Giovanni  de'  Medici,  whom  Garcias  had  as- 
sassinatcd. 

Cosmo  I.  and  his  son  Francesco,  who  ought  to  hâve  been 
devoted,  soûl  and  body,  to  the  Eoyal  House  of  France,  the 
only  power  able  to  lend  them  support,  were  the  humble  ser- 
vants of  Charles  Y.  and  Philip  IL,  and  consequently  the 
secret,  perfidious,  and  cowardly  focs  of  Catherine  de'  Medici, 
one  of  the  glories  of  their  race. 

Such  are  the  more  important  features — contradictory  and 
illogical  indeed — the  dishonest  acts,  the  dark  intrigues  of  the 
House  of  the  Medici  alone.  From  this  sketch  some  idea  may 
be  formed  of  the  other  princes  of  Italy  and  Europe.  Every 
envoy  from  Cosmo  I.  to  the  Court  of  France  had  secret  in- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  19 

stmctions  to  poison  Strozzi,  Queen  Cathcrine's  relation,  when 
he  should  find  him  there.  Charles  V.  had  three  ambassadors 
from  Francis  I.  murdered. 

It  "was  early  in  October  1533  that  the  Duke  deîîa  città  di 
Penna  left  Florence  for  Leghorn,  accompanied  by  Catherine 
de'  Medici,  sole  heiress  of  Lorenzo  IL  The  Duke  and  the 
Princess  of  Florence,  for  this  was  the  title  borne  by  the  girl, 
now  fourteen  years  of  âge,  left  the  city  with  a  large  following 
of  servants,  officiais,  and  secretaries,  preceded  by  men-at- 
arms,  and  escorted  by  a  mounted  guard.  The  young  Princess 
as  yet  knew  nothing  of  her  fate,  excepting  that  the  Pope 
and  Duke  Alessandro  were  to  hâve  an  interview  at  Leghorn; 
but  her  uncle,  Filippo  Strozzi,  soon  told  her  of  the  future  that 
lay  before  her. 

Filippo  Strozzi  had  married  Clarissa  de'  Medici,  whole 
sister  to  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  Duke  of  Urbino,  Catherine's 
father;  but  this  union,  arranged  quite  as  much  with  a  view 
to  converting  one  of  the  stoutest  champions  of  the  popular 
cause  to  the  support  of  Medici  as  to  secure  the  recall  of  that 
then  exiled  family,  never  shook  the  tenets  of  the  rough  sol- 
dier  who  was  persecuted  by  his  party  for  having  consented  to 
it.  In  spite  of  some  superficial  change  of  conduct,  somewhat 
overruled  by  this  alliance,  he  remained  faithful  to  the  popular 
side,  and  declared  against  the  Medici  as  soon  as  he  perceived 
their  scheme  of  subjugating  Florence.  This  great  man  even 
refused  the  offer  of  a  principality  from  Léo  X.  At  that  time 
Filippo  Strozzi  was  a  victim  to  the  policy  of  the  Medici,  so 
shifty  in  its  means,  so  unvarying  in  its  aira. 

After  sharing  the  Pope's  misfortunes  and  captivity,  when, 
surprised  by  Colonna,  he  took  refuge  in  the  castle  of  Saint- 
Angelo,  he  was  given  up  by  Clément  VIL  as  a  hostage  and 
carried  to  Naples.  As  soon  as  the  Pope  was  free,  he  fell 
upon  his  foes,  and  Strozzi  was  then  near  being  killed;  he 
was  forced  to  pay  an  enormous  bribe  to  get  out  of  the  prison, 
where  he  was  closely  guarded.  As  soon  as  he  was  at  liberty, 
with  the  natural   trustfulness   of  an  honest  man,  he  waa 


•JO  AHOTT  OATIIEIUNE  DE'   MEDICI 

niinplo  i'iiou;,'h  lo  ni^pi'ar  hi-forc  t'Icnu'iU  \'ll.,  wlio  porhaps 
h;ul  Uattrrrd  liiiiisolf  tlint  lu»  was  riil  of  him.  The  Pope  had 
so  inui'h  to  ho  asliaineci  of  ili.it  lie  receivcd  SLrozzi  very  un- 
prai'iously.  Thus  Strozzi  had  very  early  hegun  his  ajjpren- 
lii-eship  to  (he  lifo  of  disasIiT,  wliieli  is  (hat  of  a  maii  who 
is  hoiiest  iu  politics,  and  whose  conscience  will  not  Icud 
itsclf  to  the  caprices  of  opportunity,  whose  actions  are  pleaa- 
ing  only  to  virtu(\  which  is  persccuted  by  ail — by  the  popu- 
lace, bccaiise  it  withstands  their  blind  passions;  by  auihority, 
bocause  it  rcsists  its  usurpations. 

The  life  of  thèse  great  citizens  is  a  niartyrdom,  through 
which  they  hâve  nothing  to  support  tlieni  but  the  strong 
voice  of  conscience,  and  the  sensé  of  social  duty,  which  in  ail 
ca^es  dictâtes  their  conduct. 

Thcre  were  nian}'  such  nien  in  the  Republic  of  Florence, 
ail  as  great  as  Strozzi  and  as  masterly  as  their  adversaries 
on  the  Medici  side,  though  beaten  by  Florentine  cunning. 
In  the  conspiracy  of  the  Pazzi,  what  can  be  finer  than  the 
attitude  of  the  head  of  that  house?  His  trade  was  immense, 
and  he  settled  ail  his  accounts  with  Asia,  the  Levant,  and 
Europe  before  carrying  out  tliat  great  plot,  to  the  end  that 
his  corrcspondents  sliould  not  be  the  losers  if  he  should  fail. 

And  the  history  of  the  rise  of  the  Medici  family  in  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  is  one  of  the  finest  that 
remains  unwritten,  though  men  of  great  genius  hâve  at- 
tempted  it.  It  is  not  the  history  of  a  republic,  or  of  any 
particular  community  or  phase  of  civilization  ;  it  is  the 
history  of  political  man,  and  the  eternal  history  of  political 
developments,  that  of  usurpers  and  conquerors. 

On  his  return  to  Florence,  Filippo  Strozzi  restored  the 
ancient  form  of  govemment,  and  banished  Ippolito  de' 
!Mediei,  another  bastard,  as  well  as  Alessandro,  with  whom 
he  was  now  acting.  But  he  then  was  afraid  of  the  incon- 
stancy  of  the  populace;  and  as  he  dreaded  Pope  Clement's 
vengeance,  he  went  to  take  charge  of  a  large  commercial  house 
he  had  at  L5'^ons  in  correspondence  with  his  bankers  at  Venice 
and  Eome,  in  France,  and  in  Spain.    A  strange  f act  !    Thèse 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  21 

mcn,  who  bore  the  burden  of  public  affairs  as  well  as  that 
of  a  perennial  struggle  with  the  Medici,  to  say  nothing  of 
their  squabbles  with  their  own  party,  could  also  endure  the 
cares  of  commerce  and  spéculation,  of  banking  with  ail  its 
complications,  which  the  vast  multiplicity  of  coinages  and 
fréquent  forgeries  made  far  more  difficult  then  than  now. 
The  word  banker  is  derived  from  the  bench  on  which  they 
Bat,  and  which  served  also  to  ring  the  gold  and  silver  pièces 
on.  Strozzi  found  in  his  adored  wife's  death  a  pretext  to 
offer  to  the  Eepublican  party,  whose  police  is  always  ail  the 
more  terrible  because  everybody  is  a  voluntary  spy  in  the 
name  of  Liberty,  which  justifies  ail  things. 

Filippo's  return  to  Florence  happened  just  at  the  time 
when  the  city  was  compelled  to  bow  to  Alessandro's  yoke; 
but  he  had  previously  been  to  see  Pope  Clément,  with  whom 
matters  were  so  promising  that  his  feelings  towards  Strozzi 
had  changed.  In  the  moment  of  triumph  the  Medici  so 
badly  needed  such  a  raan  as  Strozzi,  were  it  only  to  lend  a 
grâce  to  Alessandro's  assumption  of  dignity,  that  Clément 
persuaded  him  to  sit  on  the  bastard's  council,  which  was 
about  to  take  oppressive  measures,  and  Filippo  had  accepted 
a  diploma  as  senator.  But  for  the  last  two  years  and  a  half — 
like  Seneca  and  Burrhus  with  Nero — he  had  noted  the  be- 
ginnings  of  tyranny.  He  found  himself  the  object  of  dis- 
trust to  the  populace,  and  so  little  in  favor  with  the  Medici, 
whom  he  opposed,  that  he  foresaw  a  catastrophe.  And  as 
soon  as  he  heard  from  Alessandro  of  the  negotiations  for  the 
marriage  of  Catherine  with  a  French  Prince,  which  were 
perhaps  to  be  concluded  at  Leghorn,  where  the  contracting 
powers  had  agreed  to  meet,  he  resolved  to  go  to  France  and 
follow  the  fortunes  of  his  nièce,  who  would  need  a  guardian. 
Alessandro,  delighted  to  be  quit  of  a  man  so  difficult  to 
manage  in  what  concemed  Florence,  applauded  this  décision, 
which  spared  him  a  murder,  and  advised  Strozzi  to  place  him- 
self at  the  head  of  Catherine's  household. 

In  point  of  fact,  to  dazzle  the  French  Court,  the  Medici 
had  constituted  a  brilliant  suite  for  the  young  girl  whom 


•2-2  AHOTT  CATIIKUINK  DE'   MIODICI 

tlu'v  quitc  iiu'orn'cdy  stykd  tlu'  rrinct'ss  of  l'iorenoc,  and 
who  wiis  iilso  callcd  llio  Diu-hosa  of  Urbiiiu.  Tlie  procession, 
at  iho  lu'ad  of  it  Duke  Alessaiulro,  Callicriiu\  aiul  Strozzi, 
consivsted  of  luoiv  (han  a  Ihousand  pcrsons,  exclusive  of  tho 
cscort  and  si'rvin,i,'-nu'n  ;  and  whcn  Iho  last  of  Humh  wcre  still 
nt  tho  jzatc  of  Florence,  tho  forcinost  luul  already  got  beyond 
the  lirst  village  outside  tlie  lowu — where  straw  plait  for  liatB 
is  now  niade. 

It  was  beginning  to  bo  generally  known  that  Catherine 
was  to  niarry  a  son  of  Francis  the  First,  but  as  yet  it  was 
no  more  than  a  rumor  which  found  confirmation  in  the 
country  from  this  triumphant  progress  from  Florence  to 
Leghorn.  From  the  préparations  requircd,  Catherine  sus- 
pected  that  hcr  marriage  was  in  question,  and  her  uncle 
revealed  to  her  the  abortive  scheme  of  her  ambitious  family, 
who  had  aspircd  to  the  hand  of  tho  Dauphin.  Duke  Ales- 
eandro  still  hoped  that  tho  Duke  of  Albany  might  succeed 
in  changing  the  détermination  of  the  French  King,  who, 
though  anxious  to  secure  the  aid  of  the  Medici  in  Italy,  would 
only  give  them  the  Duc  d'Orléans.  This  narrowness  lost 
Italy  to  France,  and  did  not  hinder  Catherine  from  being 
Queen. 

This  Duke  of  Albany,  the  son  of  Alexander  Stuart, 
brother  of  James  III.  of  Scotland,  had  married  Anne  de 
la  Tour  de  Boulogne,  sister  to  Madeleine,  Catherine's  mother  ; 
he  was  thus  her  maternai  uncle.  It  was  through  her  mother 
that  Catherine  was  so  rich  and  connoctod  with  so  many 
familles;  for,  strangely  enough,  Diane  de  Poitiers,  her  rival, 
was  also  her  cousin.  Jean  do  Poitiers,  Diane's  father,  was 
son  of  Jeanne  de  la  Tour  de  Boulogne,  the  Duchess  of 
Urbino's  aunt.  Catherine  was  also  related  to  Mary  Stuart, 
her  daughter-in-law. 

Catherine  was  now  informed  that  her  dower  in  money 
would  amount  to  a  hundred  thousand  ducats.  The  ducat 
was  a  gold  pièce  as  large  as  one  of  our  old  louis  d'or,  but  only 
half  as  thick.  Thus  a  hundred  thousand  ducats  in  those 
days  represented,  in  conséquence  of  the  high.  value  of  gold. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  23 

six  millions  of  francs  at  the  présent  time,  the  ducat  being 
worth  about  twelve  francs.  The  importance  of  the  banking- 
house  of  Strozzi,  at  Lyons,  may  be  imagined  from  this,  as 
it  was  his  factor  there  who  paid  over  the  twelve  hundred 
thousand  livres  in  gold.  The  counties  of  Auvergne  and 
Lauraguais  also  formed  part  of  Catherine's  portion,  and  the 
Pope  Clément  VII.  made  her  a  gift  of  a  hundred  thousand 
ducats  more  in  jewels,  precious  stones,  and  other  wedding 
gifts,  to  which  Duke  Alessandro  contributed. 

On  reaching  Leghorn,  Catherine,  still  so  young,  must  hâve 
been  flattered  by  the  extraordinary  magnificence  displayed 
by  Pope  Clément  VII.,  lier  "uncle  in  Our  Lady,"  then  the 
head  of  the  House  of  Medici,  to  crush  the  Court  of  France. 
He  had  arrived  at  the  port  in  one  of  his  galleys  hung  with 
crimson  satin  trimmed  with  gold  f  ringe,  and  covered  with  an 
awning  of  cloth  of  gold.  This  barge,  of  which  the  décorations 
had  cost  nearly  twenty  thousand  ducats,  contained  several 
rooms  for  the  use  of  Henri  de  France's  future  bride,  f umished 
with  the  choicest  curiosities  the  Medici  had  been  able  to 
collect.  The  oarsmen,  magnificently  dressed,  and  the  seamen 
were  under  the  captaincy  of  a  Prior  of  the  Order  of  the 
Knights  of  Ehodes.  The  Pope's  household  filled  three  more 
barges. 

The  Duke  of  Albany's  galleys,  moored  by  the  side  of  the 
Pope's,  formed,  with  thèse,  a  considérable  flotilla. 

Duke  Alessandro  presented  the  officers  of  Catherine's 
household  to  the  Pope,  with  whom  he  held  a  secret  confér- 
ence, introducing  to  liim,  as  seems  probable,  Count  Sébastian 
Montecuculi,  who  had  just  left  the  Emperor's  service — 
rather  suddenly,  it  was  said — and  the  two  Gênerais,  Antonio 
de  Leyva  and  Fernando  Gonzaga.  Was  there  a  premeditated 
plan  between  thèse  two  bastards  to  make  the  Duc  d'Orléans 
the  Dauphin?  What  was  the  reward  promised  to  Count 
Sébastian  Montecuculi,  who,  before  entering  the  service  of 
Charles  V.,  had  studied  medicine  ?  History  is  silent  on  thèse 
points.  We  shall  see  indeed  in  what  obscurity  the  subject 
is  wrapped.  It  is  so  great  that  some  serions  and  conscientious 
historians  hâve  recently  reeognized  Montecuculi's  innocence. 


•jj  AlUUr  CA'rmOKINH  DK"   miodhîi 

C'atlicrinp  was  now  ollii-ially  iiifoniu'il  hy  (lie  Topo  hiinsolf 
of  tho  nllianoo  {iroposod  for  lier.  Tlic  Duko  of  Albany  had 
had  gn-at  dilTunilty  in  kcoping  tho  King  of  France  to  hi8 
promise  of  giving  even  his  second  son  to  Catherine  de' 
Mi'dici;  and  Clenient's  impatience  was  so  great,  lie  was  so 
muili  al'raid  of  secing  liis  scliemes  iij)set  eitlier  by  some  in- 
trigue on  the  part  of  tiie  Emperor,  or  by  the  haughtiness  of 
l''raiue,  wlu're  tlie  grcat  nobles  cast  an  evil  eye  on  tliis  union, 
that  he  embarked  forthwith  and  made  for  Marseilles.  He 
arrived  there  at  the  end  of  Oetober  1533. 

In  spite  of  his  splendor,  the  lloiise  of  the  Medici  was 
cclipsed  by  the  sovereign  of  France.  To  show  to  what  a 
pitch  thèse  great  bankers  carried  their  magnificence,  the 
dozen  pièces  given  by  the  Pope  in  the  bride's  wedding  purse 
consisted  of  gold  medals  of  inestimable  historical  interest, 
for  they  were  at  that  time  unique.  But  Francis  I.,  who  loved 
festivity  and  display,  distinguished  himself  on  this  occasion. 
The  wedding  feasts  for  Henri  de  Valois  and  Catherine  went 
on  for  thirty-four  days.  It  is  useless  to  repeat  hère  détails 
which  may  be  read  in  every  history  of  Provence  and  Mar- 
seilles as  to  this  famous  meeting  between  the  Pope  and  the 
King  of  France,  which  was  the  occasion  of  a  jest  of  the  Duke 
of  Albany's  as  to  the  duty  of  fasting;  a  retort  recorded  by 
Brantôme  which  vastly  amused  the  Court,  and  shows  the 
tone  of  manners  at  that  time. 

Though  Henri  de  Valois  was  but  three  weeks  older  than 
Catherine,  the  Pope  insisted  on  the  immédiate  consummation 
of  the  marriage  between  thèse  two  children,  so  greatly  did 
he  dread  the  subterfuges  of  diplomacy  and  the  trickery 
commonly  practised  at  that  period.  Clément,  indeed,  anxious 
for  proof,  remained  thirty-four  days  at  Marseilles,  in  the 
hope,  it  is  said,  of  some  visible  évidence  in  his  young  rela- 
tion, who  at  fourteen  was  marriageable.  And  it  was,  no 
doubt,  when  questioning  Catherine  before  his  departure,  that 
he  tried  to  console  her  by  the  famous  speech  ascribed  to 
Catherine's  father:  "A  figîia  d'inganno,  non  manca  mai  la 
figliuolanza." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  25 

The  strangest  conjectures  hâve  bcon  given  to  the  world 
as  to  the  causes  of  Catherine's  barrenness  during  ten  years. 
Few  persons  nowadays  are  aware  that  various  médical  works 
contain  suppositions  as  to  this  matter,  so  grossiy  indécent 
that  they  could  not  be  repeated.*  This  gives  some  due  to 
the  strange  calumnies  which  still  blacken  this  Queen,  whose 
every  action  was  distorted  to  her  injury.  The  reason  lay 
simply  with  her  husband.  It  is  sufficient  évidence  that  at 
a  time  when  no  prince  vras  shy  of  having  natural  children, 
Diane  de  Poitiers,  far  more  highly  favored  than  his  wife, 
had  no  children  ;  and  nothing  is  commoner  in  surgical  expéri- 
ence than  such  a  malformation  as  this  Prince's,  which  gave 
rise  to  a  jest  of  the  ladies  of  the  Court,  who  would  hâve  made 
him  Abbé  de  Saint-Victor,  at  a  time  when  the  French  lan- 
guage  was  as  f ree  as  the  Latin  tongue.  After  the  Prince  was 
operated  on,  Catherine  had  ten  children. 

The  delay  was  a  happy  thing  for  France.  If  Henri  II. 
had  had  children  by  Diane  de  Poitiers,  it  would  hâve  caused 
serions  political  complications.  At  the  time  of  his  treatment, 
the  Duchesse  de  Valentinois  was  in  the  second  youth  of  wo- 
manhood.  Thèse  facts  alone  show  that  the  history  of  Cath- 
erine de'  Medici  remains  to  be  entirely  re-written;  and  that, 
as  Napoléon  very  shrewdly  remarked,  the  history  of  France 
should  be  in  one  volume  only,  or  in  a  thousand. 

When  we  compare  the  conduct  of  Charles  V.  with  that  of 
the  King  of  France  during  the  Pope's  stay  at  Marseilles,  it 
is  greatly  to  the  advantage  of  Francis — as  indeed  in  every 
instance.  Hère  is  a  brief  report  of  this  meeting  as  given  by 
a  contemporary  : — 

"His  Holiness  the  Pope,  having  bcen  conducted  to  the 
Palace  prepared  for  him,  as  I  hâve  said,  outside  the  port, 
each  one  withdrew  to  his  chamber  until  the  morrow,  when 
his  said  Holiness  prepared  to  make  his  entry.  Which  was 
donc  with  great  sumptuousness  and  magnificence,  he  being 
set  on  a  throne  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  two  men  in  his 
pontifical  habit,  saving  only  the  tiara,  while  before  him  went 

*  See  Bayle.    Art.  Femel, 


2Cy  APOTÎT  CATIIEHINK  DIT  MKDICI 

n  whito  palfrv  boarinp  tljc  lloly  S.nrrnmcnl.  ilio  saicl  palfrcy 
hcinp  lo(i  l\v  two  mon  on  foot  in  vorv  fine  rainient  lioldinpi;  n 
bridlo  of  whito  silk.  Aftor  liim  oaino  ail  tho  oardinals  in 
(hcir  habit,  ridint:  tlioir  pontifiral  imilo?.  and  Madame  tho 
Diu'hoss  of  l'i-biiio  in  groat  magiiifioonoo,  with  a  goodly  oom- 
]>anv  of  ladios  and  gontlomon  alikc  of  Franco  and  of  llaly. 
Aiul  thc  Vo]H\  witli  ail  this  company,  boing  cnmo  to  tho  placo 
proparod  whoro  thoy  should  lodcro,  oaoh  ono  withdrew;  and  ail 
this  was  ordorod  and  donc  withont  any  disordcr  or  tumult. 
Xow,  whilo  as  tho  Popo  was  inakinc:  his  cntry,  tho  King 
crossod  tho  wator  in  his  frigato  and  wont  to  lodge  thore 
whonco  tho  Popo  had  corne,  to  tho  end  that  on  thc  morrow 
he  raight  corne  f  rom  thence  to  pay  homage  to  the  Holy  Father, 
as  bosoomod  a  most  Christian  King. 

"The  King  boing  thon  roady,  sot  forih  to  go  to  the  Palace 
whoro  tho  Pope  was,  acoompaniod  by  tho  Princes  of  his 
blood.  Monseigneur  the  Duc  de  Vondosmois  (father  of  the 
Vidame  de  Chartres),  the  Comte  de  Saint- Pol,  Monsieur  de 
Montmorency,  and  Monsieur  de  la  Roche-sur- Yon,  the  Duc 
de  Nemours  (brother  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy  who  died  at  that 
place),  the  Duko  of  Albany,  and  many  othors,  counts,  barons, 
and  nobles,  the  Duc  de  Montmorency  boing  at  ail  times  about 
the  King's  person.  The  King,  boing  come  to  the  Palace,  was 
received  by  the  Pope  and  ail  the  Collège  of  Cardinals  as- 
sembled  in  consistory,  with  much  civility  (fort  humaine- 
ment). This  donc,  each  one  wont  to  the  place  appointed 
to  him,  and  the  King  took  with  him  many  cardinals  to  feast 
them,  and  among  them  Cardinal  de'  Medici,  the  Pope's 
nephew,  a  very  magnifîcent  lord  with  a  fine  escort.  On  the 
morrow,  those  deputed  by  his  Holiness  and  by  the  King 
began  to  treat  of  those  matters  whereon  they  had  met  to  agrée. 
First  of  ail,  they  treated  of  the  question  of  faith,  and  a  bull 
was  read  for  the  répression  of  heresy,  and  to  hinder  things 
from  coming  to  a  groater  combustion  {une  plus  grande  com- 
bustion) than  they  are  in  already.  Thon,  was  performed  the 
marriage  ceremony  between  the  Duc  d'Orléans,  the  King's 
second  son,  and  Catherine  de'  Medici,  Duchess  of  Urbino, 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  27 

his  Holiness'  nièce,  under  conditions  the  same,  or  nearly  the 
same,  as  had  been  formerly  proposed  to  the  Duke  of  Albany. 
The  said  marriage  was  concluded  with  great  magnificence, 
and  our  Holy  Father  married  them.*  This  marriage  being 
thus  concluded,  the  Holy  Father  held  a  consistory,  whercin 
he  created  four  cardinals  to  wait  on  the  King,  to  wit  :  Cardi- 
nal le  Veneur,  heretofore  Bishop  of  Lisieux  and  High  Al- 
moner;  Cardinal  de  Boulogne,  of  the  family  of  la  Chambre, 
half-brother  on  his  mother's  side  to  the  Duke  of  Albany; 
Cardinal  de  Châtillon  of  the  family  of  Coligny,  nephew  to 
the  Sire  de  Montmorency;  and  Cardinal  de  Givry." 

When  Strozzi  paid  down  the  marriage  portion  in  the  prés- 
ence of  the  Court,  he  observed  some  surprise  on  the  part  of 
the  French  nobles  ;  they  said  pretty  loudly  that  it  was  a  small 
price  for  such  a  mésalliance — what  would  they  say  to-day? 
Cardinal  Ippolito  replied  : 

"Then  you  are  not  informed  as  to  your  King's  secrets. 
His  Holiness  consents  to  bestow  on  France  three  pearls  of  in- 
estimable price — Genoa,  Milan,  and  Naples." 

The  Pope  left  Count  Sébastian  Montecuculi  to  présent 
himself  at  the  French  Court,  where  he  made  an  offer  of  his 
services,  complaining  of  Antonio  de  Leyva  and  Fernando 
Gonzaga,  for  which  reason  he  was  accepted.  Montecuculi  was 
not  one  of  Catherine's  household,  which  was  composed  en- 
tirely  of  French  ladies  and  gentlemen;  for,  by  a  law  of  the 
realm  which  the  Pope  was  rejoiced  to  see  carried  out,  Cath- 
erine was  naturalized  by  letters  patent  before  her  marriage. 
Montecuculi  was  at  first  attached  to  the  household  of  the 
Queen,  Charles  V.'s  sister.  Then,  not  long  after,  he  entered 
the  Dauphin's  service  in  the  capacity  of  cupbearer. 

The  Duchesse  d'Orléans  found  herself  entirely  swamped 
at  the  Court  of  Francis  I.  Her  young  husband  was  in  love 
with  Diane  de  Poitiers,  who  was  certainly  her  equal  in  point 
of  birth,  and  a  far  greater  lady.   The  daughter  of  the  Medici 

*At  that  time  in  French,  as  in  Italian,  the  worrts  marry  and  espouM  were  used  in  a 
contrary  sensé  to  their  présent  meaning.  Marier  was  the  fact  of  'being  married, 
épouser  was  the  priestly  fvinetion. 


L'S  A1K)1  T  CA1111:K1NK    UK'    MEDICI 

took  rank  Ixhnv  Quoon  Eloaiior,  Charles  V.'s  sislor,  and  tlie 
Diuhosse  (i'Ktainjx's,  whose  iiiarriagc  to  tlie  head  oC  Uie 
faïuily  of  de  Hrosse  hail  givcn  lier  oiio  of  thc  inost  jjowerful 
positions  and  higliest  titles  in  France,  lier  aunt,  the 
l)ueliess  of  Albany,  llie  Queen  of  Navarre,  the  DucheBse  de 
(îuise,  tlic  Duchesse  de  Vendôme,  tlie  wife  of  the  Connétable, 
ami  niany  other  woiiien,  by  their  birlh  and  privilèges  as  well 
as  by  tlu'ir  influence  in  the  niost  suni})luous  Court  ever  held 
hy  a  French  King — not  cxccpting  Louis  XIV. — wholly 
cclipsed  the  daughter  of  thc  Florentine  mcrchants,  who  was 
indeed  more  illustrions  and  richcr  through  thc  Tour  de  Bou- 
loiine  fainilv  tlian  through  lier  descent  froni  the  ]\todici. 

Filippo  Strozzi,  a  republican  at  hcart,  rcgardcd  his  nicce's 
position  as  so  critical  and  dillicult,  that  he  i'elt  hiinself  inca- 
pable of  directing  lier  in  the  midst  of  conflicting  interests, 
and  descrtcd  her  at  the  end  of  a  ycar,  being  indeed  rccalled 
to  Italy  by  the  dcath  of  Clément  VII.  Cathcrine's  conduct, 
when  \ve  rcmcmber  that  she  was  but  just  fifteen,  was  a  marvcl 
of  prudence.  She  very  adroitly  attachcd  hersclf  to  the  King, 
her  father-in-law,  leaving  him  as  rarely  as  possible;  she  was 
with  him  on  horseback,  in  hunting,  and  in  war. 

lier  adoration  of  Francis  I.  saved  the  Ilouse  of  Medici 
from  ail  suspicion  when  the  Dauphin  died  poisoncd.  At  that 
tinie  Catherine  and  the  Duc  d'Orléans  were  at  the  King's 
hcadquarters  in  Provence,  for  France  had  already  been  in- 
vaded  by  Charles  V.,  the  King's  brother-in-law.  The  whole 
Court  had  remained  on  the  scène  of  the  wedding  festivities, 
now  thc  théâtre  of  the  most  barbarous  war.  Just  as  Charles 
V.,  compellcd  to  retreat,  had  fled,  leaving  the  bones  of  his 
army  in  Provence,  the  Dauphin  was  returning  to  Lyons  by 
the  Ehonc.  Stopping  at  Tournon  for  the  night,  to  amuse 
himself,  he  went  through  some  athletic  exercises,  euch  as 
formed  almost  the  sole  éducation  he  or  his  brother  received, 
in  conséquence  of  their  long  détention  as  hostages.  The 
Prince  being  very  hot — it  was  in  the  month  of  August — 
was  so  rash  as  to  ask  for  a  glass  of  water,  which  was  given 
to  him.  iced,  by  Montecuculi.  The  Dauphin  died  almost  in- 
stantaneously. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  29 

The  King  idolized  his  son.  The  Dauphin  was  indeed,  as 
historians  are  agrecd,  a  very  accomplished  Prince.  His 
father,  in  despair,  gave  thc  utmost  publicity  to  the  proceed- 
ings  against  Montecuculi,  and  placed  the  matter  in  the  hands 
of  the  most  learned  judges  of  the  day. 

After  heroically  enduring  the  first  tests  of  torture  without 
confessing  anything,  the  Count  made  an  avowal  by  which  he 
fully  implicated  the  Emperor  and  his  two  gênerais,  Antonio 
de  Leyva  and  Fernando  Gonzaga.  This,  however,  did  not 
satisfy  Francis  I.  Never  was  a  case  more  solemnly  thrashed 
eut  than  this.  An  eye-witness  gives  the  following  account  of 
what  the  King  did  : — 

"The  King  called  ail  the  Princes  of  the  Blood,  and  ail  the 
Knights  of  his  Order,  and  many  other  high  personages  of 
the  realm,  to  meet  at  Lyons;  the  Pope's  Legate  and  Nuncio, 
the  cardinals  who  were  of  his  Court,  and  the  ambassadors  of 
England,  Scotland,  Portugal,  Venice,  Ferrara,  and  others; 
together  with  ail  the  princes  and  great  nobles  of  foreign  coun- 
tries,  both  of  Italy  and  oï  Germany,  who  were  at  that  time 
residing  at  his  Court,  to-wit:  The  Duke  of  Wittemberg,  in 
Allemaigne  ;  the  Dukes  of  Somma,  of  Arianna,  and  of  Atria  ; 
the  Princes  of  Melphe  [Malfî?]  (who  had  desired  to  marry 
Catherine),  and  of  Stilliano,  Neapolitan;  the  Marquis  di 
Vigevo,  of  the  House  of  Trivulzio,  Milanese  ;  the  Signor  Gio- 
vanni Paolo  di  Ceri,  Eoman;  the  Signor  Césare  Fregose, 
Genoese;  the  Signor  Annibale  Gonzaga,  Mantuan,  and  many 
more.  Who  being  assembled,  he  caused  to  be  read  in  their 
présence,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  the  trial  of  that 
wretched  man  who  had  poisoned  his  late  Highness  the  Dau- 
phin, with  ail  the  interrogations,  confessions,  confrontings, 
and  other  proceedings  usual  in  criminal  trials,  not  choosing 
that  the  sentence  should  be  carried  out  until  ail  those  présent 
had  given  their  opinion  on  this  monstrous  and  misérable 
matter." 

Count  Montecuculi's  fidelity  and  dévotion  may  seem  ex- 
traordinary  in  our  day  of  universal  indiscrétion,  when  every- 
body,  and  even  Ministers,  talk  over  the  most  trivial  incidents 


;{{»  Aiu)rr  cAPiiEuiNi':  de*  mkthci 

in  wliich  thov  liave  put  n  finpor;  but  in  thoso  timcs  princes 
coulil  l'oinmand  ck'votod  servants,  or  kucw  how  to  chooso 
thoni.  'riuTo  woro  nioiuircliical  Moroys  thcn,  becausc  there 
wns  faith.  Never  look  for  gn-al  things  from  sclf-interest: 
intorosts  ni;iy  cliango;  but  look  for  anything  from  fooling, 
from  roligious  faitli,  monarcliical  faith,  jiatriotic  faith. 
Thoso  tliroo  bt'liofs  a\ono  oan  produoo  a  I3orthorcau  of 
Gonova,  a  Sydney  or  a  Strallord  in  EngUind,  assassins  to 
murdcr  Thomas  à  Bcckct,  or  a  Montccuculi;  Jacques  Cœur 
and  Jeanne  d'Arc,  or  lîichelieu  and  Danton;  a  Bonchamp,  a 
Ta] mont,  or  a  Clément,  a  Chabot. 

Charles  V.  niado  use  of  tho  higliost  personages  to  carry 
ont  the  murdcr  of  throc  anibassadors  from  Francis  I.  A 
ycar  latcr  Lorenzino,  Catherine's  cousin,  assassinatcd  Duke 
Alessandro  after  three  years  of  dissimulation,  and  in  circum- 
«tances  which  gained  liim  tho  surname  of  the  Florentine 
Brulus.  The  rank  of  tho  victim  was  so  little  a  check  on  such 
undertakings  that  neithcr  Léo  X.  nor  Clément  VII.  seems  to 
bave  died  a  natural  death.  Mariana,  the  historian  of  Philip 
IL,  almost  jests  in  speaking  of  the  death  of  the  Qiieen  of 
Spain,  a  Princess  of  France,  saying  that  "for  the  greater 
glory  of  the  Spanish  throne  God  suffered  the  blindness  of 
the  doctors  who  treated  the  Qucen  for  dropsy."  When  King 
Henri  IL  allowed  himself  to  utter  a  scandai  which  deserved 
a  sword-thrust,  he  could  tind  la  Châtaigneric  willing  to 
take  it.  At  that  time  royal  personages  had  their  meals 
served  to  them  in  padlocked  boxes  of  which  they  had  the 
key.  Hence  the  droit  de  cadenas,  the  riglit  of  the  padlock, 
an  honor  which  ceased  to  exist  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XIV. 

The  Dauphin  died  of  poison,  the  same  perhaps  as  caused 
the  death  of  Madame,  under  Louis  XIV.  Pope  Clément 
had  been  dead  two  years;  Duke  Alessandro,  steeped  in  de- 
bauchery,  seemed  to  bave  no  interest  in  the  Duc  d'Orléans' 
élévation.  Catherine,  now  seventeen  years  old,  was  with 
her  father-in-law,  whom  she  devotedly  admired;  Charles  V. 
alone  seemed  to  bave  an  interest  in  the  Dauphin's  death, 
because  Francis  I.  intended  bis  son  to  form  an  alliance  which 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  31 

would  hâve  extended  the  power  of  France.  Thus  the  Count's 
confession  was  very  ingeniously  based  on  the  passions  and 
policy  of  the  day.  Charles  V.  had  fled  after  seeing  his 
troops  overwhelmed  in  Provence,  and  with  them  his  good 
fortune,  his  réputation,  and  his  hopes  of  aggrandizement. 
And  note,  that  even  if  an  innocent  man  had  confessed  under 
torture,  the  King  afterwards  gave  hini  freedom  of  speech 
before  an  august  assembly,  and  in  the  présence  of  men  with 
whom  innocence  had  a  fair  chance  of  a  hearing.  The  King 
wanted  the  truth,  and  sought  it  in  good  faith. 

In  spite  of  her  now  brilliant  prospects,  Catherine's  position 
at  court  was  unchanged  by  the  Dauphin's  death;  her  child- 
lessness  made  a  divorce  seem  probable  when  her  husband 
should  become  king.  The  Dauphin  was  now  enslaved  by 
Diane  de  Poitiers,  who  had  dared  to  be  the  rival  of  Madame 
d'Etampes.  Catherine  was  therefore  doubly  attentive  and 
insinuating  to  her  father-in-law,  understanding  that  he  was 
her  sole  mainstay. 

Thus  the  first  ten  years  of  Catherine's  married  life  were 
spent  in  the  unceasing  regrets  caused  by  repeated  disap- 
pointments  when  she  hoped  to  hâve  a  child,  and  the  vexations 
of  her  rivalry  with  Diane.  Imagine  what  the  life  must  be 
of  a  princess  constantly  spied  on  by  a  jealous  mistress  who 
was  favored  by  the  Catholic  party,  and  by  the  strong  support 
the  Sénéchale  had  acquired  through  the  marriage  of  her 
daughters — one  to  Eobert  de  la  Mark,  Duc  de  Bouillon, 
Prince  de  Sedan;  the  other  to  Claude  de  Lorraine,  Duc 
d'Aumale. 

Swamped  between  the  party  of  the  Duchesse  d'Etampes 
and  that  of  the  Sénéchale  (the  title  borne  by  Diane  de 
Poitiers  during  the  reign  of  Francis  I.),  who  divided  the 
Court  and  political  feeling  between  the  two  mortal  foes, 
Catherine  tried  to  be  the  friend  of  both  the  Duchess  and 
Diane  de  Poitiers.  She,  who  was  to  become  so  great  a  queen, 
played  the  part  of  a  subaltern.  Thus  she  served  her  appren- 
ticeship  to  the  double-faced  policy  which  afterwards  was 
the  secret  due  to  her  life.    At  a  later  date  the  queen  found 


82  AHOUT  (\\T1II0IUNE  DE"   MKDICI 

hcrsolf  lu'twron  Iho  Calliolics  and  thc  Calvinists,  ns  the 
woiiian  liad  boen,  for  ton  yonrs,  botwoen  ]\Iatlainc  d'P^tampcs 
and  Madame  de  l'oitiers. 

She  studied  the  contradictions  of  Frcnch  policy.  Francis 
iifilield  Calvin  and  the  l.uthrrans,  to  annoy  Charles  V.  Then, 
after  having  covertly  and  jiatiently  fostcrcd  the  Ke formation 
in  (icrmany,  after  tolérai inp^  Calvin's  présence  at  the  Court 
of  Navarre,  hc  tnrned  a^^ainst  it  with  undisguised  sevcrity. 
So  Catherine  could  see  thc  Court  and  thc  women  of  thc 
Court  playing  with  the  fire  of  hcresy;  Diane  at  the  head  of 
the  Catholic  party  with  the  Guises,  only  because  thc  Duchesse 
d'Etampes  was  on  thc  side  of  Calvin  and  the  Protestants. 

This  was  Catherine's  political  éducation;  and  in  the  King's 
private  circlc  she  could  study  the  mistakes  madc  by  the 
Mcdici.  The  Dauphin  was  antagonistic  to  his  father  on 
cvcry  point;  he  was  a  bad  son.  He  forgot  the  hardest  but 
the  truest  axiom  of  Royalty,  namely,  that  the  thronc  is  a 
rcsponsible  cntity,  and  that  a  son  who  may  oppose  his  father 
during  his  lifctime  must  carry  out  his  policy  on  succeeding 
to  the  throne.  Spinoza,  who  was  as  dcep  a  politician  as  he 
was  a  great  philosopher,  says,  in  treating  of  the  case  of  a 
king  who  has  succeeded  to  another  by  a  révolution  or  by 
treason:  "If  the  new  King  hopes  to  secure  his  throne  and 
protect  his  life,  he  must  display  so  much  zeal  in  avenging  his 
predecessor's  death  that  no  one  shall  feel  tempted  to  repeat 
such  a  crime.  But  to  avenge  him  worthily  it  is  not  enough 
that  he  should  shed  the  blood  of  his  subjects;  he  must  con- 
firm  the  maxims  of  him  whoso  place  he  fills,  and  walk  in 
the  same  ways  of  government." 

It  was  the  application  of  this  principle  which  gave  the 
Medici  to  Florence.  Cosmo  I.,  Alessandro's  successor,  eleven 
years  later  instigatcd  the  murder,  at  Venice,  of  the  Florentine 
Brutus,  and,  as  has  been  said,  persecuted  the  Strozzi  wdthout 
mercy.  It  was  the  neglect  of  this  principle  that  overthrew 
Louis  XVI.  That  King  was  false  to  every  principle  of  gov- 
ernment when  he  reinstated  the  Parlements  suppressed  by 
his  grandfather.     Louis  XV.   had  been  clear-sighted  ;  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  33 

Parlements,  and  especially  that  of  Paris,  were  quite  half 
to  blâme  for  the  disorders  that  necessitated  the  assembling 
of  the  States-General.  Louis  XV.'s  mistake  was  that  when 
he  threw  down  that  barrier  between  the  throne  and  the  people, 
he  did  not  erect  a  stronger  one,  that  he  did  not  substitute 
for  the  Parlements  a  strong  constitutional  rule  in  the  prov- 
inces. There  lay  the  remedy  for  the  evils  of  the  Monarchy, 
the  voting  power  for  taxation  and  the  incidence  of  the  taxes, 
with  consent  gradually  won  to  the  reforms  needed  in  the 
monarchical  rule. 

Henri  II. 's  first  act  was  to  give  ail  his  confidence  to  the 
Connétable  de  Montmorency,  whom  his  father  had  desired 
him  to  leave  in  banishment.  The  Connétable  de  Mont- 
morency, with  Diane  de  Poitiers,  to  whom  he  was  closely  at- 
tached,  was  master  of  the  kingdom.  Hence  Catherine  was 
even  less  powerful  and  happy  as  Queen  of  France  than  she 
had  beèn  as  the  Dauphiness. 

At  first,  from  the  year  1543,  she  had  a  child  every  year  for 
ten  years,  and  was  fully  taken  up  by  her  maternai  functions 
during  that  time,  which  included  the  last  years  of  Francis 
I.'s  reign,  and  almost  the  whole  of  her  husband's.  It  is  im- 
possible not  to  detect  in  tins  constant  child-bearing  the  ma- 
licious  influence  of  a  rival  who  thus  kept  the  legitimate  wife 
eut  of  the  way.  This  féminine  and  barbarous  policy  was  no 
doubt  one  of  Catherine's  grievances  against  Diane.  Being 
thus  kept  out  of  the  tide  of  afîairs,  this  clever  woman  spent 
her  time  in  observing  ail  the  interests  of  the  persons  at 
Court,  and  ail  the  parties  formed  there.  The  Italians  who 
had  followed  her  excited  violent  suspicions.  After  the  exé- 
cution of  Montecuculi,  the  Connétable  de  Montmorency, 
Diane,  and  most  of  the  crafty  politicians  at  Court  were  racked 
with  doubts  of  the  Medici;  but  Francis  I.  always  scouted 
them.  Still  the  Gondi,  the  Biraguas,  the  Strozzi,  the  Rug- 
gieri,  the  Sardini,  in  short,  ail  who  were  classed  as  the 
Italians  who  had  arrived  in  Catherine's  wake,  were  compelled 
to  exercise  every  faculty  of  wit,  policy,  and  courage  to  enable 


34  AHOUT  CATIIEUINK  DE'   MEDICI 

tliem  1(1  romain  ai  Court  untli'r  tlie  biuHk'U  dI'  disfavor  that 
woiglK'd  on  iIk'IU.  During  tlie  suprtMnai'y  of  Diane  do 
l'oiticrs,  Cathcrine's  obligingness  weiit  so  far  that  soiiie  élever 
folks  havo  scen  in  il  an  evidoncc  of  tlio  profound  dissimula- 
tion to  whicli  slie  was  compi.'llod  by  mi'ii  and  circumstiuioes, 
and  by  liie  conduct  of  llonri  11.  But  it  is  going  too  far  to 
say  that  shc  ncvor  assertcd  lier  rights  as  a  wife  and  a  (luecn. 
llor  ten  childron  (bosidcs  one  miscarriage)  wcre  a  sullicient 
explanation  of  thc*  King's  conduct,  who  was  thus  set  free 
to  spond  his  tinio  with  Diane  de  Poitiers.  lUil  thc  King 
certainly  nover  fell  sliort  of  what  he  owed  to  himself;  he 
gave  thc  Qucen  an  enlry  worthy  of  any  tliat  had  prcviously 
takcn  place,  on  thc  occasion  of  lier  coronation.  Thc  records 
of  the  Parlement  and  of  the  Exchcquer  prove  that  thèse  two 
important  bodies  went  to  meet  Catherine  outside  Paris,  as 
far  as  Saint-Lazare.  Hère,  indeed,  is  a  passage  from  du 
Tillct's  narrative  : — 

"A  scalfolding  had  been  erected  at  Saint-Lazare,  whereon 
was  a  throne  (which  du  Tillet  calls  a  chair  of  state,  chaire 
de  parement).  Catherine  seated.  herself  on  this,  dressed  in 
a  surcoat,  or  sort  of  cape  of  ermine,  covered  with  jewels; 
bencath  it  a  bodice,  with  a  court  train,  and  on  lier  head  a 
crown  of  pearls  and  diamonds;  she  was  supported  by  tho 
Maréchale  de  la  Mark,  her  lady  of  lionor.  Arouud  lier,  stand- 
ing, were  the  princes  of  the  Blood  and  other  princes  and 
noblemen  richly  dressed,  with  the  Chancellor  of  France  in 
a  robe  of  cloth  of  gold  in  a  pattem  on  a  ground  of  red 
cramoisy.*  In  front  of  the  Queen  and  on  the  same  scaffold- 
ing  were  seated,  in  two  rows,  twelve  duchesses  and  countesses, 
dressed  in  surcoats  of  ermine,  stomaehers,  trains,  and  fillets, 
that  is  to  say,  coronets,  whether  duchesses  or  countesses. 
There  were  the  Duchesse  d'Estouteville,  de  Montpensier — 
the  elder  and  the  younger — the  Princesse  de  la  Eoche-sur- 
Yon;  the  Duchesses  de  Guise,  de  Nivemois,  d'Aumale,  de 
Valentinois    (Diane  de  Poitiers)  ;  Mademoiselle  the  legiti- 

*  The  old  French  word  cramoisi  did  not  mean  merely  a  crlmBon  red,  but  denoted  a 
spécial  excellence  of  the  dye.    (See  RabelaiB.) 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  35 

mized  bastard  'of  France'  (a  title  given  to  tlie  King's  daugh- 
ter  Diane,  who  became  Duchesse  de  Castro-Farnese,  and 
afterwards  Duchesse  de  Montmoreucy-Damville),  Madame 
la  Connétable,  and  Mademoiselle  de  Nemours,  not  to  mention 
the  other  ladies  who  could  find  no  room.  The  four  capped 
Présidents  (à  mortier),  with  sorae  other  members  of  the 
Court  and  the  chief  clerk,  du  Tillet,  went  up  on  to  the  plat- 
form  and  did  their  service,  and  the  First  Président  Lizet, 
kneeling  on  one  knee,  addressed  the  Queen.  The  Chancellor, 
likewise  on  one  knee,  made  response,  She  made  her  entrance 
into  Paris  at  about  three  in  the  afternoon,  riding  in  an  open 
litter,  Madame  Marguerite  de  France  sitting  opposite  to  her, 
and  by  the  side  of  the  litter  came  the  Cardinals  d'Amboise, 
de  Châtillon,  de  Boulogne,  and  de  Lenoncourt,  in  their 
rochets.  She  got  out  at  the  Church  of  Notre-Dame,  and 
was  received  by  the  clergy.  After  she  had  made  her  prayer, 
she  was  carried  along  the  Rue  de  la  Calandre  to  the  Palace, 
where  the  royal  supper  was  spread  in  the  great  hall.  She 
sat  there  in  the  middle  at  a  marble  table,  under  a  canopy 
of  velvet  powdered  with  gold  fleurs  de  lys." 

It  will  hère  be  fitting  to  controvert  a  popular  error  which 
some  persons  hâve  perpetuated,  following  Sauvai  in  the  mis- 
take.  It  bas  been  said  that  Henri  II.  carried  his  oblivion 
of  decency  so  far  as  to  place  his  mistress'  initiais  even  on  the 
buildings  which  Catherine  had  advised  him  to  undertake  or 
to  carry  on  at  such  lavish  expense.  But  the  cipher,  which 
is  to  be  seen  at  the  Louvre,  amply  réfutes  those  who  hâve 
so  little  compréhension  as  to  lend  crédit  to  such  nonsense, 
a  gratuitous  slur  on  the  honor  of  our  kings  and  queens.  The 
H  for  Henri  and  the  two  C's,  face  to  face,  for  Catherine  seem 
indeed  to  make  two  D's  for  Diane;  and  this  coïncidence  was 
no  doubt  pleasing  to  the  King.  But  it  is  not  the  less  certain 
that  the  royal  cipher  was  officially  constructed  of  the  initiais 
of  the  King  and  the  Queen.  And  this  is  so  true,  that  the 
same  cipher  is  still  to  be  seen  on  the  com-market  in  Paris 
which  Catherine  herself  had  built.  It  may  also  be  found  in 
the  crypt  of  Saint-Denis  on  Catherine's  tomb,  which  she 


30  AUUIJT  CATIIICUINK  l»ir    MKDK;! 

causi'd  ti>  hc  constnictod  diiriii»;  hor  liffliiiK'  by  llu>  side  of 
thut  of  lli'nri  11.,  and  on  whicli  slie  is  rcpresouted  from  life 
by  tho  sc'ulptor  to  wliom  slie  sat. 

Ou  a  soleinu  occasion,  whcn  \\v  was  scttinj;  out  on  an 
cxpodiiion  to  Ciorniany,  Henri  11.  proclainu'd  (Catherine  lie- 
ront durin>;  lus  absoiico,  as  also  in  llie  evcnl  of  liis  dcath — 
on  Mardi  2'>,  15ô'.3.  Catlu'riuc's  biltcrosl  en(?niy,  the  aiithor 
of  the  Discours  merveilleux  sur  les  déportements  de  Catherine 
IL,  adniits  tliat  she  acquitled  herself  of  thèse  fnnetions  lo 
the  gênerai  approbation,  and  that  the  King  was  satisfied  with 
lier  adiiiinistralion.  Henri  II.  liad  nien  and  nioney  at  the 
right  moment.  And  al'tt'r  the  disastrous  day  of  Saint-Quen- 
tin, Catherine  obtained  from  the  Parisians  considérable  sums, 
wliich  she  forwarded  tu  Compiègnc,  whither  the  King  had 
conie. 

In  politics  Catherine  made  immense  efforts  to  acquire 
some  littie  influence.  She  was  élever  cnough  to  gain  over 
to  her  interests  the  Connétable  de  Montmorency,  who  was 
all-powerful  under  Henri  IL  The  King's  terrible  reply  to 
Montmorency's  insistency  is  well  known.  This  answer  was 
the  resuit  of  the  good  advice  given  by  Catherine  in  the  rare 
moments  when  she  was  alone  with  the  King,  and  could  ex- 
plain  to  him  the  policy  of  the  Florentines,  which  was  to 
set  the  magnâtes  of  a  kingdom  by  the  cars  and  build  up  the 
sovercign  authority  on  the  ruins — Louis  XI.'s  System,  sub- 
sequently  carried  out  by  Richelieu.  Henri  IL,  who  saw  only 
through  the  eyes  of  Diane  and  the  Connétable,  was  quite  a 
feudal  King,  and  on  friendly  terms  with  the  great  Ilouses 
of  the  realm. 

After  an  ineffeetual  effort  in  her  favor  made  by  the  Con- 
nétable, probably  in  the  year  1556,  Catherine  paid  great 
court  to  the  Guises,  and  schemed  to  detach  them  from  Diane's 
party  so  as  to  set  them  in  opposition  to  Montmorency.  Eut, 
unfortunately,  Diane  and  the  Connétable  were  as  virulent 
against  the  Protestants  as  the  Guises  were.  Hence  their 
antagonism  lacked  the  virus  which  religious  feeling  would 
hâve  given  it.    Besides,  Diane  boldly  defîed  the  Queen's  plans 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  37 

by  coquetting  with  the  Guises  and  giving  her  daughter  to  the 
Duc  d'Aumale.  She  went  so  far  that  she  has  been  accused 
by  some  writers  of  granting  more  than  smiles  to  the  gallant 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine.* 

The  signs  of  grief  and  the  ostentations  regret  displayed 
by  Catherine  on  the  King's  death  cannot  be  regarded  as 
genuine.  The  fact  that  Henri  II.  had  been  so  passionately 
and  faithfully  attached  to  Diane  de  Poitiers  made  it  incum- 
bent  on  Catherine  that  she  should  play  the  part  of  a  ne- 
glected  wife  who  idolized  her  husband;  but,  like  every  élever 
woman,  she  carried  on  her  dissimulation,  and  never  ceased 
to  speak  with  tender  regret  of  Henri  II.  Diane  herself,  it 
is  well  known,  wore  mourning  ail  her  life  for  her  husband, 
Monsieur  de  Brézé.  Her  colors  were  black  and  white,  and 
the  King  was  wearing  them  at  the  toumament  when  he  was 
fatally  wounded.  Catherine,  in  imitation  no  doubt  of  her 
rival,  wore  mourning  for  the  King  to  the  end  of  her  life. 

On  the  King's  death,  the  Duchesse  de  Valentinois  was 
shamelessly  deserted  and  dishonored  by  the  Connétable  de 
Montmorency,  a  man  in  every  respect  beneath  his  réputation. 
Diane  sent  to  offer  her  estate  and  Château  of  Chenonceaux 
to  the  Queen.  Catherine  then  replied  in  the  présence  of 
witnesses,  "I  can  never  forget  that  she  was  ail  the  joy  of 
my  dear  Henri;  I  should  be  ashamed  to  accept,  I  will  give 
her  an  estate  in  exchange.  I  would  propose  that  of  Chau- 
mont-on-the-Loire."  The  deed  of  exchange  was,  in  fact, 
signed  at  Blois  in  1559.  Diane,  whose  sons-in-law  were  the 
Duc  d'Aumale  and  the  Duc  de  Bouillon,  kept  her  whole  for- 
tune and  died  peacefully  in  15G6  at  the  âge  of  sixty-six.  She 
was  thus  nineteen  years  older  than  Henri  II.  Thèse  dates, 
copied  from  the  epitaph  on  her  tomb  by  an  historian  who 

•Some  satirist  of  thetlme  has  left  the  followlng  Unes  on  Henri  II.  [in  which  the 
pun  on  the  words  Sire  and  Cire  (wax)  would  be  lest  in  translation]  :— 

"  Sire,  si  vous  laissez,  comme  Charles  désire, 
Comme  Diane  veut,  par  trop  vous  gouverner, 
Fondre,  pétrir,  mollir,  refondre,  retourner, 
Sire,  vous  n'êtes  plus,  vous  n'êtes  plus  que  cire." 

Charles  was  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine. 
3 


38  AI50UT  CATIIEIUNE  DE'  MEDICI 

ptudiod  tho  question  at  tho  iMul  of  tlio  lasl  criitury,  cloar  up 
luaiiy  liistorii-al  ililliculliL's;  for  iiiany  writers  liave  said  bUc 
was  forty  when  lier  fathcr  was  sentouced  iu  15533,  while  olhers 
havo  Baid  she  was  but  sixtec'U.  Slie  wiis,  iu  Tact,  four-and- 
twenty. 

Aftcr  rcading  cverytliing  both  ft)r  and  against  lier  conduct 
witli  Francis  1.,  at  a  tinie  wlien  the  lloiise  of  l'oitiers  was  iu 
the  greatcst  danger,  we  can  neithcr  conlirm  nor  deny  any- 
tbing.  It  is  a  passage  of  history  that  still  reniains  obscure. 
We  can  see  by  wbat  happens  iu  our  own  day  liow  history  is 
falsilied,  as  it  were,  in  the  niaking. 

Catherine,  who  foundeil  great  hopcs  on  her  rival's  âge, 
peveral  times  made  au  atlenipt  to  overtlirow  her.  On  one 
occasion  she  was  very  near  the  accomplislimcnt  of  her  hopes. 
In  1554,  Madame  Diane,  being  ill,  bcgged  the  King  to  go  to 
Saint-Germain  pending  her  recovery.  This  sovereign 
coquette  would  not  be  seen  in  the  midst  of  the  paraphernalia 
of  doctors,  nor  bereft  of  the  adjuncts  of  dress.  To  receive 
the  King  on  his  return,  Catherine  arranged  a  splendid  ballet, 
in  wliich  five  or  six  young  ladies  were  to  address  him  in 
verse.  She  selected  for  the  pilrpose  Miss  Fleming,  related 
to  her  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Albany,  and  one  of  the  lovellest 
girls  imaginable,  fair  and  goldcn-haired;  then  a  young  con- 
nection of  her  own,  Clarissa  Strozzi,  with  magnificent  black 
hair  and  rarely  fine  hands;  Miss  Lewiston,  maid  of  honor 
to  Mary  Stuart;  Mary  Stuart  herself;  Madame  Elizabeth 
de  France,  the  unhappy  Queen  of  Spain  ;  and  Madame  Claude. 
Elizabeth  was  nine  years  old,  Claude  eight,  and  Mary  Stuart 
twelve.  Obviously,  the  Queen  aimed  at  showing  ofï  Clarissa 
Strozzi  and  Miss  Fleming  without  other  rivais  in  the  King's 
eyes.  The  King  succumbed  :  he  fell  in  love  with  Miss  Flem- 
ing, and  she  bore  him  a  son,  Henri  de  Valois,  Comte  d'An- 
goulême.  Grand  Prior  of  France. 

But  Diane's  influence  and  position  remained.  unshaken. 
Like  Madame  de  Pompadour  later  with  Louis  XV.,  the 
Duchesse  de  Valentinois  was  forgiving.  But  to  what  sort  of 
love  are  we  to  ascribe  this  scheme  on  Catherine's  part  ?  Love 
of  power  or  love  of  her  husband  ?    Women  must  décide. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  39 

A  great  deal  is  said  in  thèse  days  as  to  the  license  of  tlie 
press;  but  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  to  what  a  pitch  it  was 
carricd  wlicn  printing  was  a  new  thing.  Aretino,  the  Vol- 
taire of  his  time,  as  is  well  known,  niade  monarchs  tremble, 
and  foremost  of  them  ail  Charles  V.  But  few  people  know 
perhaps  how  far  the  audacity  of  pamphleteers  could  go. 
This  Château  of  Chenonceaux  had  been  given  to  Diane,  nay, 
she  was  entreatcd  to  accept  it,  to  induce  her  to  overlook  one 
of  the  most  horrible  publications  ever  hurled  at  a  woman, 
one  which  shows  how  violent  was  the  animosity  between  her 
and  Madame  d'Etampes.  In  1537,  when  she  was  eight-and- 
thirty,  a  poet  of  Champagne,  named  Jean  Voûté,  published 
a  collection  of  Latin  verses,  and  among  them  three  epigrams 
aimed  at  her.  We  must  conclude  that  the  poet  was  under 
high  patronage  from  the  fact  that  his  volume  is  introduced 
by  an  eulogium  written  by  Simon  Macrin,  the  King's  First 
Gentleman  of  the  Bed-chamber.  Hère  is  the  only  passage 
quotable  to-day  from  thèse  epigrams,  which  bear  the  title: 
In  Pictaviam,  anum  auîicam.  (Against  la  Poitiers,  an  old 
woman  of  the  Court.) 

"Non  trahit  esca  ficta  prsedam." 

"A  painted  bait  catches  no  game,"  says  the  poet,  after 
telling  her  that  she  paints  her  face  and  buys  her  teeth  and 
hair;  and  he  goes  on:  "Even  if  you  could  buy  the  finest  es- 
sence that  makes  a  woman,  you  would  not  get  what  you  want 
of  your  lover,  for  you  would  need  to  be  living,  and  you  are 
dead." 

This  volume,  printed  by  Simon  de  Colines,  was  dedicated 
"To  a  Bishop  !" — To  François  Bohier,  the  brother  of  the  man 
who,  to  save  his  crédit  at  Court  and  atone  for  his  crime,  made 
an  ofîering  on  the  accession  of  Henri  IL  of  the  château  of 
Chenonceaux,  built  by  his  father,  Thomas  Bohier,  Councillor 
of  State  under  four  Kings  :  Louis  XL,  Charles  VIIL,  Louis 
XII.,  and  Francis  I.  What  were  the  pamphlets  published 
against    Madame    de    Pompadour    and    Marie    Antoinette 


40  AHOUT  CATIIEKINK  DE'   MEDICI 

m  l'dinparisoii  willi  verses  tluil  miglil  liavc  hccii  written  by 
Martial!  Voûté  iiiust  liave  cuiiu'  to  a  had  end.  Thus  the 
cstati'  and  ihâteau  of  Chenonconux  cost  Diano  notlùng  but 
the  forgiveness  of  an  oITcncc — a  duty  enjoined  by  tho  Clospel. 
Not  being  assossod  by  a  jury,  tlie  jM-naltics  inllicted  on  the 
Press  wert'  rather  sevoror  tlien  than  they  arc  now. 

'Hie  widowod  Queons  of  France  were  rcquircd  to  remain 
for  forty  days  in  the  King's  bed-clianiber,  seeing  no  light 
but  that  of  the  tapers;  they  niiglit  not  coine  ont  till  after 
the  funeral.  This  inviolable  custom  annoycd  Catherine 
greatly;  she  wa?  afraid  of  cabals.  She  found  a  way  to  évade 
it.  The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  coniing  out  one  niorning — at 
pueh  a  tiine!  at  such  a  juncture! — from  the  house  of  "the 
fair  Roman,"  a  famous  courtesan  of  that  day,  who  lived  in 
tlu'  Rue  Culture-Sainte-Catherine,  was  rouglily  handled  by 
a  party  of  roisterers.  "Whereat  bis  Iloliness  was  much 
amazed,"  says  Henri  Estienne,  "and  gave  it  out  that  lieretics 
were  lying  in  wait  for  liim." — And  on  this  account  the  Court 
moved  from  Paris  to  Saint-Germain.  The  Queen  would  not 
leave  the  King  her  son  behind,  but  took  him  with  her. 

The  accession  of  Francis  II.,  the  moment  when  Catherine 
proposcd  to  seize  the  reins  of  power,  was  a  disappointment 
that  formed  a  cruel  climax  to  the  twenty-six  years  of  endur- 
ance she  had  already  spent  at  the  French  Court.  The  Guises, 
with  incrodible  audacity,  at  once  usurped  the  sovereign  power. 
The  Duc  de  Guise  was  plaeed  in  command  of  the  army,  and 
the  Connétable  de  Montmorency  was  shelved.  The  Cardinal 
took  the  control  of  the  finances  and  the  clergy. 

Catherine's  political  career  opened  with  one  of  those  dramas 
which,  though  it  was  less  notorious  than  some  others,  was  not 
the  less  horrible,  and  initiated  her  no  doubt  into  the  agitating 
shocks  of  her  life.  Whether  it  was  that  Catherine,  after 
vainly  trying  the  most  violent  remédies,  had  thought  she 
might  bring  the  King  back  to  her  through  jeaîousy;  whether 
on  coming  to  her  second  youth  she  had  felt  it  hard  never  to 
hâve  known  love,  she  had  shown  a  warm  interest  in  a  gen- 
tleman of  royal  blood,  François  de  Vendôme,  son  of  Louis 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  41 

de  Vendôme — the  parent  House  of  the  Bourbons — the 
Vidame  de  Chartres,  the  name  by  which  he  is  known  to  his- 
tory.  Catherine's  covert  hatred  of  Diane  betrayed  itself  in 
many  ways,  which  historians,  studying  only  political  dcvel- 
opments,  hâve  failed  to  note  with  due  attention.  Catherine's 
attachment  to  the  Vidame  arose  from  an  insuit  ofïered  by 
the  young  man  to  the  favorite.  Diane  looked  for  the  most 
splendid  matches  for  hor  daughters,  who  were  indeed  of  the 
best  blood  in  the  kingdom.  Above  ail,  she  was  ambitions 
of  an  alliance  with  the  Eoyal  family.  And  lier  second  daugh- 
ter,  who  became  the  Duchesse  d'Aumale,  was  proposed  in 
marriage  to  the  Vidame,  whom  Francis  I.,  with  sage  policy, 
kept  in  poverty.  For,  in  fact,  when  the  Vidame  de  Chartres 
and  the  Prince  de  Condé  first  came  to  Court,  Francis  I. 
gave  them  appointraents  !  What?  the  office  of  chamberlains 
in  ordinary,  with  twelve  hundred  crowns  a  year,  as  much  as 
he  bestowed  on  the  humblest  of  liis  gentlemen.  And  yet, 
though  Diane  offered  him  immense  wealth,  some  high  office 
under  the  Crown,  and  the  King's  personal  favor,  the  Vidame 
refused.  And  then  this  Bourbon,  factions  as  he  was,  married 
Jeanne,  daughter  of  the  Baron  d'Estissac,  by  whom  he  had 
no  children. 

This  proud  demeanor  naturally  commended  the  A^idame 
to  Catherine,  who  received  him  with  marked  favor,  and  made 
him  her  devoted  friend.  Historians  hâve  compared  the  last 
Duc  de  ^Montmorency,  who  was  beheaded  at  Toulouse,  with 
the  Vidame  de  Chartres  for  bis  power  of  charming,  his 
merits,  and  his  talents. 

Henri  II.  was  not  jealous;  he  did  not  apparently  thinl-c  it 
possible  that  a  Queen  of  France  could  fail  in  her  duty,  or 
that  a  Medici  could  forget  the  honor  donc  her  by  a  Valois. 
When  the  Queen  was  said  to  be  fiirting  with  the  Vidame 
de  Chartres,  she  had  been  almost  deserted  by  the  King  since 
the  birth  of  her  last  child.  So  this  attempt  came  to  nothing 
— as  the  King  died  wearing  the  colors  of  Diane  de  Poitiers. 

So,  at  the  King's  death,  Catherine  was  on  terms  of  gallant 
familiarity  with  the  Vidame,  a  state  of  things  in  no  way  oui 


»2  AROTTT  CA'1'1II:K1XE   DE'   MEDICI 

of  luirinony  with  tlu'  luaiiiifrs  df  [\\v  timi',  wIumi  love  wna  at 
once  fio  chivalrous  aiul  so  liceiitiDiis  ilinl  tlio  lincst  actions 
scoincd  as  natural  as  tho  iiiost  l)laiiial)l('.  iiiil,  as  iisiial,  his- 
toriaiis  havo  blundi'ivil  l>y  rcf^fardiii^'  c.\coj)tionnl  cases  as  tlic 
ru  le. 

llouri  II. 's  four  sons  milliiied  every  pretension  of  Ihe 
Bourbons,  wiio  were  ail  miserably  poor,  and  crushed  under 
the  scorn  brought  upon  thcni  by  tlie  Connétable  de  Mont- 
niorency's  treason,  in  spitc  of  the  reasons  whicli  had  led  him 
to  quit  the  countr}\  The  Vidamc  de  Chartres,  who  was  to 
the  first  Prince  de  Condé  what  lîichelieu  was  to  Mazarin, 
a  father  in  politics,  a  niodel,  aiul  yet  more  a  master  in  gal- 
lautr}',  liid  the  vast  ambition  of  liis  faiiiily  under  a  seniblance 
of  levity.  Being  unable  to  contend  with  the  Guises,  the 
Montmorencys,  the  Princes  of  Seotland,  the  Cardinals,  and 
the  Bouillons,  lie  aimed  at  distinction  by  his  gracions  man- 
ners,  his  élégance,  and  his  wit,  which  won  him  the  favors 
of  the  most  charming  women,  and  the  heart  of  many  he 
never  thought  about.  He  was  a  man  privileged  by  nature, 
whose  fascinations  were  irrésistible,  and  who  owed  to  his  love 
affairs  the  means  of  keeping  up  his  rank.  The  Bourbons 
would  not  hâve  taken  oiïence,  like  Jarnac,  at  la  Châtaignerie's 
scandai;  they  were  very  ready  to  accept  lands  and  houses 
from  their  mistresses — witness  the  Prince  de  Condé,  who 
had  tlie  estate  of  Saint- Valéry  from  Madame  la  Maréchale 
de  Saint-André. 

During  the  first  twenty  days  of  mourning  for  Henri  II., 
a  sudden  change  came  over  the  Vidame's  prospects.  Courted 
by  the  Queen-mother,  and  courting  her  as  a  man  may  court 
a  queen,  in  the  utmost  secrecy,  he  seemed  fated  to  play  an 
important  part;  and  Catherine,  in  fact,  resolved  to  raake 
him  "useful.  The  Prince  received  letters  from  her  to  the 
Prince  de  Condé,  in  which  she  pointcd  out  the  necessity  for 
a  coalition  against  the  Guises.  The  Guises,  informed  of  this 
intrigue,  made  their  way  into  the  Queen's  chamber  to  compel 
her  to  sign  an  order  consigning  the  Yidame  to  the  Bastille, 
and  Catherine  found  herself  imder  the  cruel  necessity  of 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  43 

submitting.  The  Vidame  died  after  a  few  months'  captivity, 
on  the  day  when  he  came  out  of  prison,  a  short  time  before 
thc  Amboise  conspiracy. 

This  was  the  end  of  Catherine  de'  Medici's  first  and  only 
love  afïair.  Protestant  writers  declared  that  the  Queen  had 
him  poisoned  to  bury  the  secret  of  her  gallantries  in  the 
tomb. 

Such  was  this  woman's  apprenticeship  to  the  exercise  of 
royal  power. 


44  AIJOUT  CATUEKINK  DE"  MEDIGI 


PART  I 

THE  CALVINIST  MARTYR 

Few  pcrson?  in  tlicsc  days  know  how  arllcss  wcrc  (lie  dwcll- 
ings  of  thc  citizcna  of  Paris  in  thc  sixtccnth  ccntury,  and 
how  simple  thcir  livcs.  This  very  siniplicity  of  habits  and 
thoiight  pcrhaps  was  thc  cause  of  thc  grcatncss  of  this  primi- 
tive citizen  class — for  they  were  certainly  great,  free  and 
noble,  more  so  pcrhaps  than  thc  citizens  of  our  tinie.  Thcir 
history  rcmains  to  be  written;  it  requires  and  awaits  a  man 
of  genius.  Inspircd  by  an  incident  which,  though  littlc  known, 
forms  the  basis  of  this  narrative,  and  is  onc  of  thc  most  re- 
markablc  in  thc  history  of  thc  citizen  class,  this  reflcction 
will  no  doubt  occiir  to  every  onc  who  shall  read  it  to  thc  end. 
Is  it  thc  first  time  in  history  that  thc  conclusion  has  come 
beforc  thc  facts? 

In  1560,  thc  houses  of  the  Rue  de  la  Vieille-Pelleterie  lay 
close  to  thc  Icft  bank  of  the  Seine,  between  the  Pont  Notre- 
Dame  and  the  Pont  au  Change.  The  public  way  and  the 
houses  occupied  the  ground  now  given  up  to  thc  single  path 
of  the  présent  quay.  p]ach  house,  rising  from  the  river,  had 
a  way  down  to  it  by  stone  or  woodcn  steps,  defended  by  strong 
iron  gâtes,  or  doors  of  nail-studded  timber.  Thèse  houses, 
like  those  of  Vcniee,  had  a  door  to  the  land  and  one  to  the 
water.  At  thc  moment  of  writing  this  sketch,  only  one  house 
remains  of  this  kind  as  a  réminiscence  of  old  Paris,  and  that 
is  doomed  soon  to  disappear;  it  stands  at  the  corner  of  the 
Petit-Pont,  the  little  bridge  facing  the  guard-house  of  the 
Hôtel-Dieu. 

Of  old  each  dwelling  presented,  on  the  river  side,  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  45 

peculiar  physiognomy  stamped  on  it  either  by  the  trade  and 
the  habits  of  its  owners,  or  by  the  eccentricity  of  the  con- 
structions devised  by  theni  for  utilizing  or  defiling  the  Seine. 
The  bridges  being  built,  and  almost  ail  choked  up  by  more 
mills  than  were  convenient  for  the  requirements  of  naviga- 
tion, the  Seine  in  Paris  was  divided  into  as  many  pools  as 
there  were  bridges.  Some  of  thèse  old  Paris  basins  would 
hâve  afforded  delightful  studies  of  color  for  the  painter. 
What  a  forest  of  timbers  was  built  into  the  cross-beams  that 
supported  the  mills,  with  their  immense  sails  and  wheels  ! 
What  curious  elïects  were  to  be  found  in  the  joists  that  shored 
up  the  houses  from  the  river.  Genre  painting  as  yet,  un- 
foriunately,  was  not,  and  engraving  in  its  infancy;  so  we 
hâve  no  record  of  the  curious  scènes  which  may  still  be  found, 
on  a  small  scale,  in  some  provincial  towns  where  the  rivers 
are  fringed  with  wooden  houses,  and  where,  as  at  Vendôme, 
for  instance,  the  pools,  overgrown  with  tall  grasses,  are  di- 
vided by  railings  to  separate  the  varions  properties  on  each 
bank. 

The  name  of  this  street,  which  has  now  vanished  from  the 
map,  sufficiently  indicates  the  kind  of  business  carried  on 
there.  At  that  time  the  merchants  engaged  in  any  particular 
trade,  far  from  dispersing  themselves  about  the  city,  gath- 
ered  together  for  mutual  protection.  Being  socially  bound 
by  the  guild  which  limited  their  increase,  they  were  also 
united  into  a  brotherhood  by  the  Church.  This  kept  up 
priées.  And  then  the  masters  were  not  at  the  mercy  of  their 
workmen,  and  did  not  yield,  as  they  do  now,  to  ail  their 
vagaries;  on  the  contrary,  they  took  charge  of  them,  treated 
them  as  their  children,  and  taught  them  the  finer  mystexies 
of  their  craft.  A  workman,  to  become  a  master,  was  required 
to  produce  a  masterpiece — always  an  offering  to  the  patron 
saint  of  the  guild.  And  will  you  venture  to  assert  that 
the  absence  of  compétition  diminished  their  sensé  of  perfec- 
tion, or  hindered  beauty  of  workmanship,  when  your  admira- 
tion of  the  work  of  the  older  craftsmen  has  created  the  new 
trade  of  dealers  in  hric-à-brac? 


•i«  AKorr  cAiiiKuiNK  i>ir  mi:i»1('i 

Iii  tho  fiftoonlli  nnd  pi.\(t>cnth  cH'ii(uri(>s,  tlio  fur  Irado  waa 
ono  of  tho  niost  llourishiiij:^  imlust  ries.  'Vhv  (lilVu'ulty  of 
obtainiiii;  furs,  whicli,  coniing  from  llic  NOrtli,  nrccssitatod 
long  ami  danjjorous  voyages,  gave  a  higli  value  to  skins  and 
furriors'  work.  TIumi,  as  now,  high  priées  lod  ta  dcmand, 
for  vanity  knows  no  obstacles. 

Tn  l'ranee,  and  in  other  kingdonis,  not  only  was  thc  use 
of  furs  restriftt'tl  hy  law  lo  (lie  great  nobility,  a.s  is  proved 
by  tiie  part  played  by  ennine  in  ancicnt  coats-of-arms;  but 
certain  rare  furs,  such  as  vaù',  which  was  beyond  doul)t  im- 
périal sable,  might  be  worn  only  by  kings,  dukes,  and  men  of 
high  rank  holding  certain  olllccs.  Vair  (a  name  still  used  in 
heraldry,  vair  and  counter  vair)  was  sub-divided  into  grand 
vair  and  menu,  vair.  Thc  word  has  withiu  the  last  hundred 
years  fallen  so  completcly  into  disuse,  that  in  hundrcds  of 
éditions  of  Perrault's  fairy  taies,  Cinderella's  famous  slipper, 
probably  of  fur,  menu  vair,  has  becorae  a  glass  slipper,  pan- 
toufle (Je  verre.  Not  long  since  a  distinguishcd  French  poet 
was  obligcd  to  rcstorc  and  explain  thc  original  spelling  of 
this  word,  for  the  édification  of  liis  brethren  of  the  press, 
when  giving  an  account  of  the  "Cenerentola,"  in  which  a 
ring  is  substituted,  for  the  symbolical  slipper — an  unmeaning 
change. 

The  laws  against  the  use  of  fur  were,  of  course,  perpetually 
transgressed,  to  the  great  advantage  of  the  furriers.  The 
high  price  of  textiles  and  of  furs  made  a  garment  in 
those  days  a  durable  thing,  in  keeping  with  the  fumi- 
ture,  armor,  and  gênerai  détails  of  the  sturdy  life  of  the  time. 
A  nobleman  or  lady,  every  rich  man  as  well  as  every  citizen, 
possessed  at  most  two  dresses  for  each  season,  and  they  lasted 
a  lifetime  or  more.  Thèse  articles  were  bequeathed  to  their 
children.  Indeed,  the  clauses  relating  to  weapons  and  rai- 
ment  in  marriage  contracts,  in  thèse  days  unimportant  by 
reason  of  the  small  value  of  clothes  that  are  constantly  re- 
newed,  were  at  that  period  of  great  interest.  High  priées 
had  led  to  durability. 

A  lady's  outfit  represented  a  vast  sum  of  money;  it  was 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  47 

included  in  hcr  fortune,  and  safely  bcstowed  in  those  cnor- 
mous  chests  which  ondangcr  the  ceilings  of  modem  houses. 
The  full  dress  of  a  lady  in  1840  would  hâve  been  the 
déshah illé  of  a  fine  lady  of  1540.  The  discovery  of  America, 
the  facility  of  transport,  the  destruction  of  social  distinctions, 
which  has  led  to  the  effacement  of  visible  distinctions,  hâve 
ail  contributed  to  reduce  the  furrier's  craft  to  the  low  ebb 
at  which  it  stands,  almost  to  nothing.  The  article  sold  by  a 
furrier  a.t  the  same  price  as  of  old — say  twenty  livres — has 
fallcn  in  value  with  the  money:  the  livre  or  franc  was  then 
worth  twenty  of  our  présent  money.  The  citizen's  wife  or 
the  courtesan  who,  in  our  day,  trims  her  cloak  with  sable, 
does  not  know  that  in  1440  a  malignant  constable  of  the 
watch  would  hâve  taken  her  forthwith  into  custody,  and 
haîed  her  before  the  judge  at  le  Châtelet.  The  English 
ladies  who  are  so  fond  of  ermine  are  unconscious  of  the  fact 
that  formerly  none  but  quccns,  duchesses,  and  the  Chancellor 
of  France  were  permitted  to  wear  this  royal  fur.  Thcre  are 
at  this  day  various  ennobled  familles  bearing  the  name  of 
Pelletier  or  Lepelletier,  whose  forebears  were  obviously 
wealthy  furriers;  for  most  of  our  citizen  names  were  origi- 
nally  surnames  of  that  kind. 

This  digression  not  only  explains  the  long  squabbles  as 
to  precedence  which  the  Drapers'  Guild  carried  on  for  two 
centuries  with  the  Mercers  and  the  Furriers,  each  insisting 
on  marching  fîrst,  as  being  the  most  important,  but  also  ac- 
counts  for  the  conséquence  of  one  Master  Lecamus,  a  furrier 
honored  with  the  patronage  of  the  two  Queens,  Catherine 
de'  Medici  and  Mary  Stuart,  as  well  as  that  of  the  légal 
profession,  who  for  twenty  years  had  been  the  Syndic  of  his 
Corporation,  and  who  lived  in  this  street.  The  house  oc- 
cupied  by  Lecamus  was  one  of  the  three  forming  the  three 
corner?  of  the  cross-roads  at  the  end  of  the  Pont  au  Change, 
whero  only  the  tower  now  remains  that  formed  the  fourth 
corner.  At  the  angle  of  this  house,  forming  the  corner  of 
the  bridge  and  of  the  quay,  now  called  the  Quai  aux  Fleurs, 


48  AHOUT  (^ATHEIUNR  DE'   MKDICI 

tlio  nrchitoct  Iiad  ])lnc'cHl  a  niclu'  for  a  Madonna,  l)cfore  whom 
tapors  ooïK^tantly  burnoil,  wilh  jiosics  of  roal  llowors  in  their 
soason,  ami  artifioial  flowcrs  \u  tlic  wintor. 

On  thc  sidc  towards  thc  Une  du  l'ont,  as  wcll  as  on  that 
to  the  lîuc  de  la  Vioillo-Pollotorie,  thc  house  was  supported 
on  woodon  pillar.<.  AU  tlio  houses  of  tho  Iradinp;  (jiiariors 
woro  thus  oonstructod,  with  an  arcade  I)cneath,  wliore  foot 
passongers  walkod  nn(]cr  oovor  on  a  (loor  hardcnod  by  thc 
mud  they  brouglit  in,  wliich  made  it  a  ratbor  roiigh  pave- 
ment. In  ail  tbe  towns  of  France  thèse  arcades  bave  been 
called  piliers — in  England  roivs — a  gênerai  terin  to  which 
tbe  naine  of  a  trade  is  commonly  added,  as  "Piliers  des 
Halles,"  "Piliers  de  la  lîoucberie."  'l'besc  covered  ways, 
rcqnired  by  the  changeable  and  rainy  climatc  of  Paris,  gave 
the  to^^Ti  a  highly  characteristic  feature,  but  they  hâve  en- 
tirely  disappeared.  Just  as  thcrc  now  remains  one  house 
only  on  the  river-bank,  so  no  more  than  about  a  hundred  feet 
arc  Icft  of  thc  old  Piliers  in  the  market,  thc  last  that  hâve 
survived  till  now;  and  in  a  few  days  this  rcmnant  of  the 
gloomy  labyrinth  of  old  Paris  will  also  be  destroyed.  The 
existence  of  thèse  relies  of  the  Middle  Ages  is,  no  doubt,  in- 
compatible with  the  splendor  of  modem  Paris.  And  thèse 
renuirks  are  not  intended  as  a  lament  over  thoae  fragments 
of  the  old  city,  but  as  a  vérification  of  this  picture  by  the 
last  sunàving  e.xamples  now  falling  into  dust,  and  to  win 
forgiveness  for  such  descriptions,  which  will  be  precious  in 
the  future  which  is  following  hard  on  the  heels  of  this  âge. 

The  walls  werc  of  timber  covered  with  slates.  The  spaces 
betwcen  the  timbcrs  had  been  fîlled  np  with  bricks,  in  a  way 
that  may  still  be  seen  in  some  provincial  towns,  laid  in  a 
zigzag  pattern  known  as  Point  de  Hongrie.  The  window- 
sills  and  lintels,  also  of  wood,  were  handsomely  carved,  as 
were  thc  corner  tabernacle  above  the  Madonna,  and  tho  pillars 
in  front  of  the  shop.  Every  window,  every  beam  dividing 
the  stories,  was  graced  with  arabesques  of  fantastic  figures 
and  animais  wreathed  in  scrolls  of  foliage.  On  the  street  side, 
as  on  the  river  side,  the  house  was  crowned  with  a  high- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI  49 

pitched  roof  having  a  gable  to  the  river  and  one  to  the 
Street.  This  roof,  like  that  of  a  Swiss  chalet,  projected  far 
enough  to  cover  a  balcony  on  the  second  floor,  with  an  orna- 
mental  balustrade;  hère  the  mistress  might  walk  under  shel- 
ter  and  command  a  view  of  the  street,  or  of  the  pool  shut 
in  between  two  bridges  and  two  rows  of  houses, 

Houses  by  the  river  were  at  that  time  highly  valued.  The 
System  of  drainage  and  water  supply  was  not  yet  invented; 
the  only  main  drain  was  one  round  Paris,  constructed  by 
Aubriot,  the  first  nian  of  genius  and  détermination  who — 
in  the  time  of  Charles  V. — thought  of  sanitation  for  Paris. 
Houses  situated  like  this  of  the  Sieur  Lecamus  found  in  the 
river  a  necessary  water-supply,  and  a  natural  outlet  for 
rain  water  and  waste.  The  vast  works  of  this  kind  under 
the  direction  of  the  Trade  Provosts  are  only  now  disappear- 
ing.  None  but  octogenarians  can  still  remember  having 
seen  the  pits  which  swallowed  up  the  surface  waters,  in  the 
Rue  Montmartre,  Eue  du  Temple,  etc.  Thèse  hideous  yawn- 
ing  culverts  were  in  their  day  of  inestimable  utility.  Their 
place  will  probably  be  for  ever  marked  by  the  sudden  rising 
of  the  roadway  over  what  was  their  open  channel — another 
archaeological  détail  which,  in  a  couple  of  centuries,  the  his- 
torian  will  find  inexplicable. 

One  day,  in  1816,  a  little  girl,  who  had  been  sent  to  an 
actress  at  the  Ambigu  with  some  diamonds  for  the  part  of 
a  queen,  was  caught  in  a  storm,  and  so  irresistibly  swept 
away  by  the  waters  to  the  opening  of  the  drain  in  the  Rue 
du  Temple,  that  she  would  hâve  been  drowned  in  it  but  for 
the  help  of  a  passer-by,  who  was  touched  by  her  cries.  But 
she  had  dropped  the  jewels,  which  were  found  in  a  man-hole. 
This  accident  made  a  great  commotion,  and  gave  weight 
to  the  demands  for  the  closing  of  thèse  gulfs  for  swallowing 
water  and  little  girls.  Thèse  curions  structures,  five  feet 
high,  had  more  or  less  movable  gratings,  which  led  to  the 
flooding  of  cellars  when  the  stream  produced  by  heavy  rain 
was  checked  by  the  grating  being  choked  with  rubbish,  which 
the  résidents  often  forgot  to  remove. 


50  AlU)rT  CATIIKUIN1<:  DE"   MEDICI 

Tho  front  of  Master  Lccaiiius'  slu)])  was  a  lar^c  wiiulow, 
but  lilk'd  in  willi  sniall  panus  of  IoiuIlhI  glass,  wliicli  iiuule 
tho  place  very  dark.  Tiie  l'urs  for  wcalthy  purchasers  wcre 
carrii'il  to  thcni  for  inspection.  To  those  wlio  came  to  buy 
in  tlie  slio]),  thc  gonds  werc  displayod  oulside  betwecn  the 
j)illars,  which,  during  the  day,  were  always  more  or  less 
blocked  by  tables  and  salesmen  sitting  on  stools,  as  they 
could  still  bc  seen  doing  under  thc  arcade  of  the  Halles  some 
fiftecn  years  since.  From  thcsc  outposts  the  clerks,  appren- 
tices,  and  sewing  girls  could  cliat,  question,  and  answer  cach 
other,  and  bail  the  passer-by  in  a  way  wliicli  Waltcr  Scott  lias 
dcpicted  in  the  Fortunes  of  Nigcl.  Tlie  signboard,  repre- 
senting  au  ermine,  was  hung  out  as  we  still  see  those  of 
village  inns,  swinging  from  a  handsome  arm  of  pierced  and 
gilt  ironwork.    Over  the  ermine  were  thèse  words  : 

L  E  C  A  îil  U  S 

Furrier 

To  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  and  the  King  our 
Sovereign  Lord 

On  one  side,  and  on  the  other: 

"To  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  Mother 
And  to  the  Gentlemen  of  the  Parlement." 

The  words  "To  Her  Majesty  the  Queen"  had  been  lately 
added;  the  gilt  letters  were  new.  This  addition  was  a  con- 
séquence of  the  récent  changes  produced  by  Henri  II.'s  sudden 
and  violent  death,  which  overthrew  many  fortunes  at  Court, 
and  began  that  of  the  Guises. 

The  baek  shop  looked  over  the  river.  In  this  room  sat 
the  worthy  citizen  and  liis  wife,  Mademoiselle  Lecamus.  The 
wife  of  a  man  who  was  not  noble  had  not  at  any  time  any 
right  to  the  title  of  Dame,  or  lady;  but  the  wives  of  the 
citizens  of  Paris  were  allowed  to  call  themselves  Demoiselle 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  51 

(as  we  might  say  Mistress),  as  part  of  the  privilèges  granted 
and  confirmed  to  tlieir  husbands  by  many  kings  to  whom 
they  had  rendered  great  services.  Between  tliis  back  room 
and  the  front  shop  was  a  spiral  ladder  or  staircase  of  wood, 
a  sort  of  corkscrew  leading  up  to  the  next  story,  where  the 
furs  vrere  stored,  to  the  old  couple's  bedroom,  and  again  to 
the  attics,  lighted  by  dormer  Windows,  where  their  children 
slept,  the  maid-servant,  the  clerks,  and  the  apprentices. 

This  herding  of  families,  servants,  and  apprentices,  and 
the  small  space  allotted  to  each  in  the  dwelling,  where  the 
apprentices  ail  slcpt  in  one  large  room  under  the  tiles,  ac- 
counts  for  the  enormous  population  at  that  time  crowded 
together  in  Paris  on  a  tentli  of  the  ground  now  occupied  by 
the  city,  and  also  for  the  many  curions  détails  of  mediseval 
life,  and  the  cunning  love  afïairs,  though  thèse,  pace  the 
grave  historian,  are  nowhere  recorded  but  by  the  story  writers, 
and  without  them  would  hâve  been  lost. 

At  this  time  a  grand  gentleman — such  as  the  Admirai  de 
Coligny,  for  instance — had  three  rooms  for  himself  in  Paris, 
and  his  people  lived  in  a  neighboring  hostelry.  There  were 
not  fifty  mansions  in  ail  Paris,  not  fifty  palaces,  that  is  to  say, 
belonging  to  the  sovereign  princes  or  great  vassals,  whose  ex- 
istence was  far  superior  to  that  of  the  greatest  German  rulers, 
such  as  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  or  the  Elector  of  Saxony. 

The  kitchen  in  the  Lecamus'  house  was  on  the  river  side 
below  the  back  shop.  It  had  a  glass  door  opening  on  to 
an  ironwork  balcony,  where  the  cook  could  stand  to  draw 
up  water  in  a  pail  and  to  wash  the  household  linen.  Thus 
the  back  shop  was  at  once  the  sitting-room,  the  dining-room, 
and  the  counting-house.  It  was  in  this  important  room — 
always  fitted  with  richly-carved  wood,  and  adorned  by  some 
chest  or  artistic  article  of  furniture — that  the  merchant  spent 
most  of  his  life;  there  he  had  jolly  suppers  after  his  day's 
work  ;  there  were  held  secret  debates  on  the  political  interests 
of  the  citizens  and  the  Royal  family.  The  formidable  guilds 
of  Paris  could  at  that  time  arm  a  hundred  thousand  men. 
Their  resolutions  were  stoutly  upheld  by  their  serving-men. 


02  ABOLIT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

their  clcrks,  Iluir  :ipj)ri'nti{'cs,  aiul  tluir  worknicn.  Tlicir 
Provost  was  tluir  coiimiaiidor-in-chiof,  iiiul  they  liad,  in  the 
Hôd'l  (lo  \'ille,  a  palace  whoro  thoy  had  a  riglit  to  assemble. 

In  that  famous  "citizons'  parlor"  {parloncr  aux  bourgcoùs) 
vory  pok'inn  décisions  were   lakcn.      But   for  the   continuai 
sacrifices  which  had  made  war  nnendurable  to  tlie  Guilds, 
wearied  out  witli  losses  and  famine,  Henri  IV.,  a  rebel-made' 
kin^,  might  ne  ver  hâve  entered  Paris. 

Every  reader  niay  now  iina^^'ine  for  liiniself  tlie  character- 
iftic  apjiearance  of  tiiis  corner  of  Paris  where  the  brid^a»  and 
tlie  Quay  now  open  out,  wiiere  the  trecs  rise  from  the  Quai 
aux  Fleurs,  and  where  nothing  is  left  of  the  past  but  the 
lofty  and  famous  clock-tower  whence  the  signal  was  tolled 
for  the  Massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomcw.  Strange  coinci- 
dence  !  One  of  the  bouses  built  round  the  foot  of  that  tower 
— at  that  time  surrounded  by  wooden  shops — the  house  of 
the  Lecamus,  was  to  be  the  scène  of  one  of  the  incidents 
that  led  to  that  night  of  horrors,  which  proved,  unfortunately, 
propitious  rather  than  fatal  to  Calvinism. 

At  the  moment  when  this  stor}'  begins,  the  audacity  of  the 
new  religions  teaching  was  setting  Paris  by  the  ears.  A 
Scotchman,  named  Stuart,  had  just  assassinated  Président 
Minard,  that  member  of  the  Parlement  to  whom  publie 
opinion  attributed  a  principal  share  in  the  exécution  of  Anne 
du  Bourg,  a  councillor  burnt  on  the  Place  de  Grève  after  the 
tailor  of  the  late  King,  who  had  been  tortured  in  the  présence 
of  Henri  II.  and  Diane  de  Poitiers.  Paris  was  so  closely 
watched,  that  the  archers  on  guard  compelled  every  passer-by 
to  pray  to  the  Virgin,  in  order  to  detect  heretics,  who  yielded 
unwillingly,  or  even  refused  to  perform  an  act  opposed  to 
their  convictions. 

The  two  archers  on  guard  at  the  corner  of  the  Lecamus' 
house  had  just  gone  off  duty;  thus  Christophe,  the  furrier's 
son,  strongly  suspected  of  deserting  the  Catholic  faith,  had 
been  able  to  go  out  without  fear  of  being  compelled  to  adore 
the  Virgin's  image.    At  seven  in  the  evening  of  an  April  day, 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  53 

1560,  night  was  falling,  and  tlie  apprentices,  seeing  only  a 
few  persons  walking  ^along  the  arcades  on  each  side  of  the 
Street,  were  carrjing  in  the  goods  laid  ont  for  inspection 
preparatory  to  closing  the  house  and  the  shop.  Christophe 
Lecamus,  an  ardent  youth  of  two-and-twenty,  was  standing 
in  the  door,  apparently  engaged  in  looking  after  the  appren- 
tices. 

"Monsieur,"  said  one  of  thèse  lads  to  Christophe,  pointing 
out  a  man  who  was  pacing  to  and  fro  under  the  arcade  with 
a  doubtful  expression,  "that  is  probably  a  spy  or  a  thief, 
but  whatever  he  is,  such  a  lean  wretch  cannot  be  an  honest 
man.  If  he  wanted  to  speak  to  us  on  business,  he  would  corne 
up  boldly  instead  of  creeping  up  and  down  as  he  is  doing. — 
And  what  a  face  !"  he  went  on,  mimicking  the  stranger, 
"with  his  nose  hidden  in  his  cloak  !  What  a  jaundiced  eye, 
and  what  a  stan-ed  complexion  !" 

As  soon  as  the  stranger  thus  described  saw  Christophe 
standing  alone  in  the  doorway,  he  hastily  crossed  from  the 
opposite  arcade  where  he  was  walking,  came  under  the  pillars 
of  the  Lecamus'  house,  and  passing  along  by  the  shop  before 
the  apprentices  had  come  out  again  to  close  the  shutters,  he 
went  up  to  the  young  man. 

"I  am  Chaudieu  !"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

On  hearing  the  name  of  one  of  the  most  famous  ministers, 
and  one  of  the  most  heroic  actors  in  the  terrible  drama  called 
the  Reformation,  Christophe  felt  such  a  thrill  as  a  faithful 
peasant  would  hâve  felt  on  recognizing  his  King  under  a 
disguise. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  some  furs?"  said  Christophe,  to 
deceive  the  apprentices  whom  he  heard  behind  him.  "Though 
it  is  almost  dark,  I  can  show  you  some  myself." 

He  invited  the  minister  to  enter,  but  the  man  replied  that 
he  would  rather  speak  to  him  out  of  doors.  Christophe 
fetched  his  cap  and  followed  the  Calvinist. 

Chaudieu,  though  banished  by  an  edict,  as  secret  pleni- 
potentiary  of  Théodore  de  Bèze  and  Calvin — who  directed 
the  Reformation  in  France  from  Geneva — went  and  came. 


54  AnOUT  CATIIKUINi:   nlV   MKDICT 

di'fvinu  Uio  risk  t)f  tlu'  horrihlo  dcatli  iiidiclod  by  tho  Parlo- 
inont,  in  concert  witli  llic  Cliurrli  aiul  llu'  Moiiarch,  on  a 
Icailin^  rcforiiirr.  (lie  fanions  Anne  dn  lîonr^.  'l'iiis  nian, 
wlioso  brothcr  was  a  caplain  in  llic  arniy,  and  onc  of  Adnural 
Coli^ny's  bcst  warriors,  was  lln'  ami  nscd  by  t'alvin  io  siii* 
up  France  at  tlie  bi'ginning  of  tbo  twenly-two  years  of  re- 
ligions wars  wbich  wcre  on  the  cvc  of  an  outbrcMik.  Tbis 
preacber  of  tbe  refornied  faitb  was  ono  of  tliose  secret  wheels 
wbich  niay  best  expbiin  Ibe  inunense  spread  of  tbe  Kefornia- 
tion. 

C'baudieu  led  C'bristopbo  down  to  tbe  ed<;o  of  the  water 
by  an  nnderground  passage  like  tbat  of  tbe  Arche  Mariou, 
filled  in  some  ten  years  since.  Tbis  tunnel  between  the  house 
of  Lecanius  and  tbat  next  it  ran  under  the  Rue  de  la  Vieille- 
Pelleterie,  and  wa5  known  as  le  Pont  aux  Fourreurs.  It  was 
used  by  tbe  dyers  of  tbe  Cité  as  a  way  down  to  the  river  to 
wash  their  thread,  silk,  and  materials.  A  little  boat  lay 
there,  held  and  rowed  by  one  nian.  In  the  bows  sat  a  stranger, 
a  small  man,  and  very  simply  dressed.  In  an  instant  the  boat 
was  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  the  boatman  steered  it 
under  one  of  the  wooden  arches  of  the  Pont  au  Change,  whero 
he  quickly  secured  it  to  an  iron  ring.  No  one  had  said  a 
Word. 

"Hère  we  may  talk  in  safety,  there  are  neither  spies  nor 
traitors,"  said  Chaudieu  to  the  two  others.  "Are  you  filled 
with  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  tbat  should  animate  a  martyr? 
Are  you  ready  to  sufTer  ail  things  for  our  holy  Cause?  Do 
you  fear  the  torments  endured  by  the  late  King's  tailor,  and 
the  Councillor  du  Bourg,  wbich  of  a  truth  await  us  ail?" 
He  spoke  to  Christophe,  looking  at  him  with  a  radiant  face. 

"I  will  testify  to  the  Gospel,"  replied  Christophe  simply, 
looking  up  at  the  Windows  of  the  back  shop. 

The  familiar  lamp  standing  on  a  table,  where  his  father 
was  no  doubt  balancing  his  books,  reminded  him  by  its  mild 
beam  of  the  peaceful  life  and  family  joys  he  was  renouncing. 
It  was  a  brief  but  complète  vision.  The  young  man's  fancy 
took  in  the  homely  harmony  of  the  whole  scène — the  places 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  55 

where  he  had  spent  his  happy  cliildhood,  where  Babette  Lal- 
lier  lived,  his  future  wife,  where  everything  proniised  him 
a  ealm  and  busy  life  ;  he  saw  the  past,  he  saw  the  future,  and 
he  sacrificed  it  ail.    At  any  rate,  he  staked  ît. 

Such  were  men  in  those  days. 

"We  need  say  no  more,"  cried  the  impetuous  boatman. 
"We  kuow  him  for  one  of  the  saints.  If  the  Scotchman  had 
net  dealt  the  blow,  he  would  hâve  killed  the  infamous 
Minard." 

"Yes,"  said  Lecamus,  "my  life  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
brethren,  and  I  dévote  it  with  joy  for  the  success  of  the 
Reforniation.  I  hâve  thought  of  it  ail  seriously.  I  know 
what  we  are  doing  for  the  joy  of  the  nations.  In  two  words, 
the  Papacy  makes  for  celibacy,  the  Eeformation  makes  for 
the  family.  It  is  time  to  purge  France  of  its  monks,  to 
restore  their  possessions  to  the  Crown,  which  will  sell  them 
sooner  or  later  to  the  middle  classes.  Let  us  show  that  we 
can  die  for  our  children,  and  to  make  our  families  free  and 
happy  !" 

The  young  enthusiast's  face,  with  Chaudieu's,  the  boat- 
man's,  and  that  of  the  stranger  seated  in  the  bows,  formed 
a  picture  that  deserves  to  be  dcscribed,  ail  the  more  so  be- 
cause  such  a  description  entails  the  whole  history  of  that 
epoch,  if  it  be  true  that  it  is  given  to  some  men  to  sum  up 
in  themselves  the  spirit  of  their  âge. 

Eeligious  reform,  attempted  in  Germany  by  Luther,  in 
Scotland  by  John  Knox,  and  in  France  by  Calvin,  found 
partisans  chiefly  among  those  of  the  lower  classes  who  had 
begun  to  think.  The  great  nobles  encouraged  the  movement 
only  to  serve  other  interests  quite  foreign  to  the  religious 
question.  Thèse  parties  were  joined  by  adventurers,  by  gen- 
tlemen who  had  lost  ail,  by  youngsters  to  whom  every  form 
of  excitement  was  acceptable.  But  among  the  artisans  and 
men  employed  in  trade,  faith  was  gcnuine,  and  founded  on 
intelligent  interests.  The  poorer  nations  at  once  gave  their 
adhérence  to  a  religion  which  brought  the  property  of  the 
Church  back  to  the  State,  which  suppressed  the  convents, 


r)fl  ABOl'T  CATHEIUNK   DE'   MEDICI 

and  ilopriviul  ilic  di^'iiitarirs  of  iIk'  (.'hurch  of  tlicir  ononnous 
revemu's.  KviTvboily  iu  tnulo  cak'ulati'd  the  profits  froni 
this  n'li|îious  transaction,  and  dovoted  thoniselves  to  it  body, 
seul,  aiul  juirso;  and  aniong  the  youtli  of  the  French  citizen 
cla^js,  the  new  j)roaching  met  that  noble  disposition  for  self- 
sacrifice  of  cvery  kind  \vhit  h  animâtes  the  young  to  whoni 
egoism  is  unknown. 

Emincnt  nien,  penetrating  niinds,  such  as  are  always  to 
be  found  aniong  the  masses,  foresaw  the  Republic  in  the 
Keformation,  and  hopod  to  eslablish  throiighout  Europe  a 
form  of  govcrnment  like  that  of  the  United  Notherlands, 
which  at  hu^t  trium{)hed  over  the  grcatcst  powcr  of  the  time — 
Spain,  niled  by  l'hilip  11.,  and  represented  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries  by  the  Duke  of  Alva.  Jean  llotoman  was  at  that  time 
planning  the  famous  book  in  which  this  scheme  is  set  forth, 
which  difîused  through  France  the  leaven  of  thèse  ideas, 
stirrcd  up  once  more  by  the  League,  subduod  by  Richelieu, 
and  afterwards  by  Louis  XIV.,  to  reappear  with  the  Econo- 
mists  and  the  Encyclopedists  under  Louis  XV.,  and  burst 
into  life  under  Louis  XVI.  ;  ideas  which  were  always  ap- 
proved  by  the  younger  branches,  by  the  House  of  Orléans 
in  1TS9,  as  by  the  House  of  Bourbon  in  1589. 

The  questioning  spirit  is  the  rebcllious  spirit.  A  rébellion 
is  always  cithcr  a  cloak  to  hide  a  prince,  or  the  swaddling 
wrapper  of  a  new  rule.  The  House  of  Bourbon,  a  younger 
branch  than  the  Valois,  was  busy  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Reformation.  At  the  moment  when  the  little  boat  lay  moored 
under  the  arch  of  the  Pont  au  Change,  the  question  was 
furthcr  complicated  by  the  ambition  of  the  Guises,  the  rivais 
of  the  Bourbons.  Indeed,  the  Crown  as  represented  by 
Catherine  de'  Medici  could,  for  thirty  years,  hold  its  own  in 
the  strife  by  setting  thèse  two  factions  against  each  other; 
whereas  later,  instead  of  being  clutched  at  by  many  hands, 
the  Cro^\Ti  stood  face  to  face  with  the  people  without  a  barrier 
between  ;  for  Richelieu  and  Louis  XIV.  had  broken  down  the 
nobility,  and  Louis  XV.  had  overthrown.  the  Parlements. 
Now  a  king  alone  face  to  face  with  a  nation,  as  Louis  XVI. 
was,  must  inevitablv  succumb. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  57 

Christophe  Lecamus  was  very  typical  of  the  ardent  and 
devoted  sons  of  the  people.  Ilis  pale  complexion  had  that 
warm  burnt  hue  which  is  seen  in  some  fair  people;  his  haii: 
was  of  a  coppery  yellow;  his  eyes  were  bluish-gray,  and 
sparkled  brightly.  In  them  alone  was  his  noble  soûl  visible, 
for  his  clumsy  features  did  not  disguise  the  somewhat  tri- 
angular  shape  of  a  plain  face  by  lending  it  the  look  of 
dignity  which  a  man  of  rank  can  assume,  and  his  forehead 
was  low,  and  characteristic  only  of  great  energy.  His  vitality 
seemed  to  be  seated  no  lower  down  than  his  chest,  which 
was  somewhat  hollow.  Sinewy,  rather  than  muscular,  Chris- 
tophe was  of  tough  texture,  lean  but  wiry.  His  sharp  nose 
showed  homely  cunning,  and  his  countenance  revealed  in- 
telligence of  the  kind  that  acts  wisely  on  one  point  of  a  circle, 
but  has  not  the  power  of  commanding  the  whole  circumfer- 
ence.  His  eyes,  set  under  brows  that  projected  like  a  pent- 
house,  and  faintly  outlined  with  light  down,  were  surrounded 
with  broad  light-blue  circles,  with  a  sheeny  white  patch  at 
the  root  of  the  nose,  almost  always  a  sign  of  great  excitability. 
Christophe  was  of  the  people — the  race  that  fights  and  allows 
itself  to  be  deceived;  intelligent  enough  to  understand  and 
to  serve  an  idea,  too  noble  to  take  advantage  of  it,  too  mag- 
nanimous  to  sell  himself. 

By  the  side  of  old  Lecamus'  only  son,  Chaudieu,  the  ardent 
minister,  lean  from  watchfulness,  with  brown  hair,  a  yellow 
skin,  a  contumacious  brow,  an  éloquent  mouth,  fiery  hazel 
eyes,  and  a  short  rounded  chin,  symbolized  that  Christian 
zeal  which  gave  the  Keformation  so  many  fanatical  and 
earnest  preachers,  whose  spirit  and  boldness  fired  whole  com- 
munities.  This  aide-de-camp  of  Calvin  and  Théodore  de 
Bèze  contrasted  well  with  the  furrier's  son.  He  represented 
the  living  cause  of  which  Christophe  was  the  effect.  You 
could  not  hâve  conceived  of  the  active  firebrand  of  the  popular 
machine  under  any  other  aspect. 

The  boatman,  an  impetuous  créature,  tanned  by  the  open 
air,  the  dews  of  night,  and  the  beats  of  the  day,  with  firmly 
Bet  lips,  quick  motions,  a  hungry,  tawny  eye  like  a  vulture's. 


68  AH01;T  i:A  IllKUINK    Dir    MIODICI 

and  orisp  black  liair,  was  tlu>  cliaraftiM-istic  advonturor  who 
risks  his  ail  iii  an  uiuli-rlakin^  as  a  ^'amhlrr  slakcs  his  wholc 
fortune  (in  a  caril.  Mvi'rylhin^'  in  tlic  nian  spokt-  oï.  terrible 
passions  and  a  daring  tliat  would  flinch  at  uothing.  His 
quivering  muscles  wcre  as  al)K'  (o  kcep  silence  as  to  speuk. 
His  look  wasasscrtive  rallier  (lian  nulilc  llis  nose,  u[)turne(l 
but  narrow,  scented  bat t le.  Ile  seenied  active  and  adroit. 
In  any  âge  you  would  bave  known  liini  for  a  party  leader. 
He  niigbt  iiave  been  Pizarro,  Ilernando  (.'ortez^  or  jVlorgan 
tlie  Destroyer  il'  there  had  been  no  lieforniatioii — a  doer  of 
violent  decds. 

The  strangcr  who  sat  on  a  seat,  wrappcd  in  his  cloak,  evi- 
dcntly  belongcd  to  the  highest  social  rank.  The  finenoss  of 
his  linen,  the  eut,  inatcrial,  and  perfume  of  his  raiinent,  the 
make  and  texture  of  his  gloves,  showed  a  man  of  the  Court, 
as  his  attitude,  his  haughtiness,  his  cool  demeanor,  and  his 
flashing  eye  revealed  a  man  of  war.  His  appearance  was  at 
first  somewhat  ahirming,  and  inspired  respect.  We  respect 
a  man  who  respects  himself.  Though  short  and  hunchbacked, 
his  manner  made  good  ail  the  defects  of  his  figure.  The  ice 
once  broken,  ho  had  the  cheerfulness  of  decisiveness  and  an 
indescribable  spirit  of  energy  which  made  him  attractive. 
He  had  the  blue  eyes  and  the  hooked  nose  of  the  House  of 
Navarre,  and  the  Spanish  look  of  the  markcd  physioguomy 
that  was  characteristic  of  the  Bourbon  kings. 

With  three  words  the  scène  became  of  the  greatest  in- 
terest. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Chaudieu,  as  Christophe  Lecamus  made 
his  profession  of  faith,  "this  boatman  is  la  Renaudie;  and  this 
is  Monseigneur  the  Prince  de  Condé,"  he  added,  turning  to 
the  hunchback. 

Thus  the  four  men  were  représentative  of  the  faith  of  the 
people,  the  intellect  of  éloquence,  the  arm  of  the  soldier,  and 
Royalty  cast  into  the  shade. 

"You  will  hear  what  we  require  of  you,"  the  minister  went 
on,  after  allowing  a  pause  for  the  young  rnan's  astonishment. 
"To  the  end  that  you  may  make  no  mistakes,  we  are  com- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  BIT  MEDICI  59 

pelled  to  initiate  you  into  the  most  important  secrets  of  the 
Keforniation." 

The  Prince  and  la  Eenandie  assented  by  a  gesture,  when 
the  minister  ccased  speaking,  to  allow  the  Prince  to  say 
something  if  he  should  wish  it.  Like  ail  men  of  rank  en- 
gaged  in  conspiracies,  who  make  it  a  principle  net  to  appear 
before  some  critical  moment,  the  Prince  kept  silence.  Not 
from  cowardice:  at  such  junctures  he  was  the  soûl  of  the 
scheme,  shrank  from  no  danger,  and  risked  his  head;  but 
with  a  sort  of  royal  dignity,  he  left  the  explanation  of  the 
enterprise  to  the  preacher,  and  was  content  to  study  the  new 
instrument  he  was  compelled  to  make  use  of. 

"My  son,"  said  Chaudieu  in  Huguenot  phraseology,  "we 
are  about  to  fight  the  first  battle  against  the  Eoman  whore. 
In  a  few  days  our  soldiers  must  perish  at  the  stake,  or  the 
Guises  must  be  dead.  So,  ère  long,  the  King  and  the  two 
Queens  will  be  in  our  power.  This  is  the  first  appeal  to  arms 
by  our  religion  in  France,  and  France  will  not  lay  them  down 
till  she  has  conquered — it  is  of  the  nation  that  I  speak,  and 
not  of  the  kingdom.  Most  of  the  nobles  of  the  kingdom  see 
what  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  and  the  Duke  his  brother  are 
driving  at.  Under  pretence  of  defending  the  Catholic  faith, 
the  House  of  Lorraine  claims  the  Crown  of  France  as  its  in- 
heritance.  It  leans  on  the  Chureh,  and  has  made  it  a  for- 
midable ally;  the  monks  are  its  supporters,  its  acol}i:es  and 
spies.  It  asserts  itself  as  a  protector  of  the  throne  it  hopes 
to  usurp,  of  the  Valois  whom  it  hopes  to  destroy. 

"We  bave  decided  to  rise  up  in  arms,  and  it  is  because  the 
liberties  of  the  people  are  threatened  as  well  as  the  interests 
of  the  nobility,  We  must  stifle  in  its  infancy  a  faction  as 
atrocious  as  that  of  the  Bourguignons,  who  of  old  put  Paris 
and  France  to  tire  and  sword.  A  Louis  XL  was  needed  to 
end  the  quarrel  between  the  Burgundians  and  the  Crown, 
but  now  a  Prince  of  Condé  wilhprevent  the  Lorraines  from 
going  too  far.  This  is  not  a  civil  war;  it  is  a  duel  between  the 
Guises  and  the  Eeformation — a  duel  to  the  death  !  We  will 
see  their  heads  low,  or  they  shall  crush  ours  !" 


W)  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*   MEDICI 

"WcU  spokeii  !"  t^aid  ihc  riiiicc. 

"In  thcse  circumstanccs,  Christophe/'  la  Rcnnndie  put  in, 
"we  must  negloct  no  nicans  of  strongtlioning  our  j)arty — for 
thero  is  a  party  on  tlie  side  of  tlic  Kcfoniiation,  thc  party 
of  ofTondod  rights,  of  tlio  nobles  who  are  sacriliced  to  the 
Guises,  of  thc  old  arniy  leaders  so  shainefully  trieked  at  Fon- 
tainebleau, whenec  tho  Cardinal  banished  them  by  crccting 
gibbets  to  hang  thosc  who  shoiild  ask  the  King  for  the  price 
of  their  outfit  and  arrears  of  pay." 

''Ycp,  my  son,"  said  Chaudicu,  secing  somc  signs  of  terror 
in  Christophe,  "that  is  what  requires  us  to  triumph  by  fight- 
ing  instead  of  triuniphing  by  convietion  and  niartyrdom. 
Thc  Queen-mother  is  ready  to  enter  into  our  views;  not  that 
ehe  is  prepared  to  abjure  the  Catholic  faith — she  has  not  got 
so  far  as  that,  but  she  may  perhaps  be  driven  to  it  by  our 
success.  Be  that  as  it  may,  humiliated  and  desperate  as  she  is 
at  seeing  the  power  she  had  hoped  to  wield  at  the  King's 
death  in  the  grasp  of  the  Guises,  and  alarmed  by  the  influence 
exerted  by  the  young  Queen  Marie,  who  is  their  nièce  and 
partisan,  Queen  Catherine  will  be  inclined  to  lend  her  support 
to  the  princes  and  nobles  who  are  about  to  strike  a  blow  for 
her  deliverance.  At  this  moment,  though  apparently  devoted 
to  the  Guises,  she  hâtes  them,  longs  for  their  ruin,  and  will 
make  use  of  us  to  oppose  them;  but  Monseigneur  can  make 
use  of  her  to  oppose  ail  the  others.  The  Queen-mother  will 
consent  to  ail  we  propose.  We  hâve  the  Connétable  on  our 
side — Monseigneur  has  just  secn  him  at  Chantilly,  but  he  will 
not  stir  without  orders  from  his  superiors.  Being  Mon- 
seigneur's  uncle,  he  will  not  leave  us  in  the  lurch,  and  our 
gênerons  Prince  will  not  hesitate  to  rush  into  danger  to  enlist 
Anne  de  Montmorency. 

"Everything  is  ready;  and  we  hâve  cast  our  eyes  on  you 
to  communieate  to  Queen  Catherine  our  treaty  of  alliance, 
our  schemes  for  edicts,  and  the  basis  of  the  new  rule.  The 
Court  is  at  Blois.  Many  of  our  friends  are  there;  but  those 
are  our  future  chiefs — and,  like  Monseigneur,"  and  he  bowed 
to  the  Prince,  "they  must  never  be  suspected  ;  we  must  sacri- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  61 

fice  ourselves  for  them.  The  Queen-mother  and  our  friends 
are  under  such  close  espionage,  that  it  is  impossible  to  com- 
municate  with  them  through  any  one  who  is  known,  or  of  any 
conséquence.  Such  a  person  would  at  once  be  suspected,  and 
would  never  be  admitted  to  speak  with  Madame  Catherine. 
God  should  indeed  give  us  at  this  moment  the  shepherd  David 
with  his  sling  to  attack  Goliath  de  Guise.  Your  father — a 
good  Catholic,  more's  the  pity — is  f urrier  to  the  two  Queens  ; 
he  always  has  some  garment  or  trimming  in  hand  for  them  ; 
persuade  him  to  send  you  to  the  Court.  You  will  arouse  no 
suspicions,  and  will  not  compromise  Queen  Catherine.  Any 
one  of  our  leaders  might  lose  his  head  for  an  imprudence 
which  should  give  rise  to  a  suspicion  of  the  Queen-mother's 
connivance  with  us.  But  where  a  man  of  importance,  once 
caught  out,  gives  a  due  to  suspicions,  a  nobody  like  you 
escapes  scot-f  ree. — You  see  !  The  Guises  hâve  so  many  spies, 
that  nowhere  but  in  the  middle  of  the  river  can  we  talk  with- 
out  fear.  So  you,  my  son,  are  like  a  man  on  guard,  doomed 
to  die  at  his  post.  Understand,  if  you  are  taken,  you  are 
abandoned  by  us  ail.  If  need  be,  we  shall  cast  opprobrium 
and  disgrâce  on  you.  If  we  shall  be  forced  to  it,  we  should 
déclare  that  you  were  a  créature  of  the  Guises  whom  they 
sent  to  play  a  part  to  implicate  us.  So  what  we  ask  of  you 
is  entire  self-sacrifice. 

"If  you  perish,"  said  the  Prince  de  Condé,  "I  pledge  my 
Word  as  a  gentleman  that  your  family  shall  be  a  sacred  trust 
to  the  House  of  Xavarre;  I  will  bear  it  in  my  heart  and 
serve  it  in  every  way." 

"That  Word,  my  Lord,  is  enough,"  replied  Christophe,  for- 
getting  that  this  leader  of  faction  was  a  Gascon.  "We  live 
in  times  when  every  man,  prince  or  citizen,  must  do  his  duty." 

"That  is  a  true  Huguenot  !  If  ail  our  men  were  like  him," 
said  la  Renaudie,  laying  his  hand  on  Christophe's  shoulder, 
"we  should  hâve  won  by  to-morrow." 

"Young  man,"  said  the  Prince,  "I  meant  to  show  you  that 
while  Chaudieu  preaches  and  the  gentleman  bears  arms,  the 
prince  fights.  Thus,  in  so  fierce  a  game  every  stake  has  its 
value." 


62  AROTT  CATIIKHINIO  DE'   MEDICI 

"Liston,"  saitl  la  Jù'naudii';  "1  will  not  givo  you  tlio  i)a])ers 
till  wc  n-ai'li  Hoaugoncy,  for  we  niust  run  no  risks  on  thc  road. 
You  will  liiid  un-  iMi  ihc  (luay  thcro  ;  niy  fai'o,  voico,  aiui 
dotlios  will  be  so  iliU'crt'iit,  (luit  you  nuiy  not  recognize  nie. 
But  1  will  say  (o  you,  'Are  you  a  Uuqnn  f  and  you  iiuisl  reply, 
*At  your  service.' — As  to  tlie  inauncr  of  pruceeding,  I  will 
tell  you.  You  will  lind  a  Iiorse  a(  la  l'inlc  fleurie,  near  Saint- 
Cîerniain  l'Auxerrois.  Ask  Iherc  for  Jean  le  Breton,  who  will 
take  you  to  tlie  stable  and  mount  you  on  a  nag  of  mine  kiiown 
to  covcr  thirty  leagues  in  eight  hours.  Lcave  Paris  by  the 
Bussy  (îate.  Breton  has  a  pass  for  me;  take  it  for  yourself 
and  be  olF,  riding  round  outside  the  towus.  You  should  reach 
Orléans  by  daybreak." 

"And  the  horse?"  asked  Lecamua. 

"lie  will  hold  ont  till  you  get  to  Orléans/'  replied  la 
Renaudie.  "Leave  him  outside  the  suburb  of  Bannicr,  for  the 
gâtes  are  well  guarded  ;  we  must  not  arouse  suspicion.  You, 
my  friend,  must  play  your  part  well.  You  must  make  up 
any  story  that  may  seem  to  you  best  to  enable  you  to  go  to  the 
third  house  on  your  left  on  entering  Orléans;  it  is  that  of 
one  Tourillon,  a  glover.  Knock  three  raps  on  the  door  and 
call  out,  *In  the  service  of  Messieurs  de  Guise  !'  The  man 
affects  to  be  a  fanatical  Guisard;  we  four  only  know  that  he  is 
on  our  side.  He  will  fînd  you  a  boatman,  such  another  as 
himself  of  course,  but  devoted  to  our  cause.  Go  down  to  the 
river  at  once,  get  into  a  boat  painted  green  with  a  white 
border.  You  ought  to  be  at  Beaugency  by  noonday  to- 
morrow.  There  I  will  put  you  in  the  way  of  getting  a  boat 
to  carry  you  down  to  Blois  withoiit  running  any  danger. 
Our  enemies  the  Guises  do  not  command  the  Loire,  only  the 
river-ports. 

"You  may  thus  see  the  Queen  in  the  course  of  to-morrow 
or  of  the  next  day." 

"Your  words  are  graven  hère,"  said  Christophe,  touching 
his  forehead. 

Chaudieu  embraced  his  son  with  religious  fervency;  he  was 
proud  of  him. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  63 

"The  Lord  protect  you  !"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  sunset 
which  crimsoned  the  old  roofs  covered  with  shingles,  and 
shot  fiery  gleams  aniong  the  forest  of  beams  round  which 
the  waters  foamed. 

"You  are  of  the  stock  of  old  Jacques  Bonhomme,"  said 
la  Rcnaudie  to  Christophe,  wringing  his  hand. 

*'We  shall  meet  again,  Monsieur,"  said  the  Prince,  with  a 
gesture  of  infinité  graciousness,  almost  of  friendliness. 

With  a  stroke  of  the  oar,  la  Eenaudie  carried  the  young 
conspirator  back  to  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  house,  and 
the  boat  vanished  at  once  under  the  arches  of  the  Pont  au 
Change. 

Christophe  shook  the  iron  gâte  that  closed  the  entrance 
from  the  river-side  and  called  out;  Mademoiselle  Lecamus 
heard  him,  opened  one  of  the  Windows  of  the  back-shop,  and 
asked  how  he  came  there.  Christophe  replied  that  he  was 
half-frozen,  and  that  she  must  first  let  him  in. 

"Young  master,"  said  la  Bourguignonne,  "you  went  out 
by  the  street  door  and  corne  in  by  the  river-gate?  Your 
father  will  be  in  a  pretty  rage." 

Christophe,  bewildered  by  the  secret  conférence  which  had 
brought  him  into  contact  with  the  Prince  de  Condé,  la 
Renaudie,  and  Chaudieu,  and  even  more  agitated  by  the 
expected  turmoil  of  an  imminent  civil  war,  made  no  reply; 
he  hurried  up  from  the  kitchen  to  the  back-shop.  There,  on 
seeing  him,  his  mother,  who  was  a  bigoted  old  Catholic,  could 
not  contain  herself. 

"I  will  wager,''  she  broke  out,  "that  the  three  men  you  were 
talking  to  were  ref " 

"Silence,  wife,"  said  the  prudent  old  man,  whose  white 
head  was  bent  over  a  book.  "Now,  my  lazy  oafs,"  he  went 
on  to  three  boys  who  had  long  since  finished  supper, 
"what  are  you  waiting  for  to  take  you  to  bed?  It  is  eight 
o'clock.  You  must  be  up  by  five  in  the  morning.  And  first 
you  hâve  the  Président  de  Thou's  robes  and  cap  to  carry  home. 
Go  ail  three  together,  and  carry  sticks  and  rapiers.  If  you 
meet  any  more  ne'er-do-weels  of  your  own  kidney,  at  any 
rate  there  will  be  three  of  you." 


&4  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

"And  arc  we  to  oarry  tlio  criuinc  surcoat  ordcrcd  by  the 
young  Quoen,  which  is  to  be  delivered  at  thc  Hôtel  de  Sois- 
60US,  froin  wlu'iice  there  is  au  express  to  Blois  and  to  thc 
Quei'n-niother?"  asked  one  of  thc  hids. 

"Mo,"  said  thc  Syndic;  "(^ucen  Cathcrine's  account 
aniounts  to  thrce  thousand  crowns,  and  1  must  get  the  uioncy. 
1  tiiiulc  1  will  go  to  Blois  myself." 

"I  sliould  not  think  of  allowing  you,  at  your  âge,  fathcr, 
and  in  sueh  timcs  as  thèse,  to  expose  yourself  on  the  high- 
roads.  1  ani  two-and-twcnty;  you  niay  scnd  me  on  this  er- 
rand,"  said  Christophe,  with  an  eye  ou  a  box  which  lie  had  no 
doubt  containcd  llic  surcoat. 

"Are  you  glucd  to  the  bench?"  cried  the  old  man  to  the  ap- 
prentices,  who  hastily  took  up  thcir  papiers  and  capes,  and 
Monsieur  de  Thou's  fur  gown. 

This  illustrious  man  was  to  be  receivcd  on  the  morrow 
by  the  rarlcnient  as  their  Président;  lie  had  just  signcd  the 
dcath-warrant  of  the  Councillor  du  Bourg,  and  was  fated, 
before  the  year  was  out,  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  Prince  de 
Coudé. 

"La  Bourguignonne,"  said  the  old  man,  "go  and  ask  my 
neighbor  Lallier  if  he  will  sup  with  us  this  evening,  fumish- 
ing  the  wine;  we  will  give  the  meal. — And,  above  ail,  tell  him 
to  bring  his  daughter." 

The  Syndic  of  the  Guild  of  Furriers  was  a  handsome  old 
man  of  sixty,  with  whitc  hair  and  a  broad  high  forehead.  As 
furrier  to  the  Court  for  forty  ycars  past,  he  had  witnessed 
ail  the  révolutions  in  the  reign  of  Francis  I.,  and  had  re- 
tained  his  royal  patent  in  spite  of  féminine  rivalries.  He  had 
seen  the  arrivai  at  Court  of  Catherine  de'  Medici,  then  but 
just  fifteen;  he  had  seen  her  succumb  to  the  Duchesse 
d'Etampes,  her  father-in-law's  mistress,  and  to  the  Duchesse 
de  Valentinois,  mistress  to  the  late  King,  her  husband.  But 
through  ail  thèse  changes  the  furrier  had  got  into  no  diffi- 
culties,  though  the  Court  purveyors  often  fell  into  disgrâce 
with  the  ladies  they  served.     His  prudence  was  as  great  as 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI  65 

his  wealth.  He  maintained  an  attitude  of  excessive  hu- 
mility.  Pride  had  never  caught  him  in  its  snares.  The  man 
was  so  modest,  so  meek,  so  obliging,  so  poor — at  Court  and 
in  the  présence  of  queens,  princesses,  and  favorites — that  his 
servility  had  saved  his  shop-sign. 

Such  a  Une  of  policy  betrayed,  of  course,  a  cunning  and 
clear-sighted  man.  Humble  as  he  was  to  the  outer  world, 
at  home  he  was  a  despot.  He  was  the  unquestioned  master 
in  his  own  house.  He  was  highly  respected  by  his  fellow 
merchants  and  derived  immense  considération  from  his  long 
tenure  of  the  lirst  place  in  business.  Indeed,  he  was  gladly 
helpful  to  others;  and  among  the  services  he  had  done,  the 
most  important  perhaps  was  the  support  he  had  long  afforded 
to  the  most  famous  surgeon  of  the  sixteenth  century — Am- 
broise  Paré,  who  owed  it  to  Lecamus  that  he  could  pursue  his 
studies.  In  ail  the  disputes  that  arose  between  the  merchants 
of  the  guild,  Lecamus  was  for  conciliatory  measures.  Thus 
gênerai  esteem  had  confirmed  his  supremacy  among  his 
equals,  while  his  assumed  character  had  preserved  him  the 
favor  of  the  Court. 

Having,  for  political  reasons,  manœuvred  in  his  parish  for 
the  glory  of  his  trade,  he  did  what  was  needful  to  keep  him- 
self  in  a  sufficient  odor  of  sanctity  with  the  priest  of  the 
Church  of  Saint-Pierre  aux  Bœufs,  who  regarded  him  as  one 
of  the  men  most  devoted  in  ail  Paris  to  the  Catholic  faith. 
Consequently,  when  the  States-General  were  convoked,  Le- 
camus was  unanimously  elected  to  represent  the  third  estate 
by  the  influence  of  the  priests,  which  was  at  that  time  enor- 
mous  in  Paris. 

This  old  man  was  one  of  those  deep  and  silent  ambitious 
men  who  for  fifty  years  are  submissive  to  everybody  in  turn, 
creeping  up  from  place  to  place,  no  one  knowing  how,  till  they 
are  seen  peacefully  seated  in  a  position  which  no  one,  not 
even  the  boldest,  would  hâve  dared  to  admit  was  the  goal  of 
his  ambition  at  the  beginning  of  his  life — so  long  was  the 
climb,  so  many  gulfs  were  there  to  leap,  into  which  he  might 
fall  !    Lecamus,  who  had  hidden  away  a  large  fortune,  would 


,U-,  AHOir  CA'IMIKUINK  DE*    MKDICI 

rim  no  risks,  ;iiul  was  j)lanniiij;  a  splcniliil  t'uliirc  for  his  son. 
InsttMil  iif  tliat  iHTsoiial  aiubilion  whicli  ortrn  sacriiiccs  the 
future  to  tlu>  pivsout,  lu-  liad  raiiiily  amliition,  a  foelin»^  thai 
stHMUs  lost  in  thoso  tlays,  sniollu'icd  hy  llic  stui)i(l  rci^ulation 
of  iiihcritanco  l)y  law.  Lccanius  foivsaw  liiuiscU"  l'irsidunt 
of  tho  Paris  l'arUMuont  in  the  person  of  lus  j^^randson. 

Christophe,  the  godson  of  the  greal  historian  de  'l'hou,  liad 
rcceivcd  an  excellent  éducation,  Imt  il  liad  led  hiin  lo  scepti- 
cism  and  inquiry,  whieh  indeed  were  ini'reasiug  ai)a('e  aniong 
the  students  and  Faeulties  of  the  University.  Christophe 
was  at  présent  studyln-^^  for  the  bar,  tho  first  step  to  a 
judgeship.  The  old  furricr  pretended  to  be  iindeeided  as 
to  his  son's  career;  sometimes  he  would  niake  Christophe 
bis  suecessor,  and  sometimes  he  would  hâve  him  a  pleader; 
but  in  his  heart  he  lonfjed  to  sco  this  son  in  the  seat  of  a 
Councillor  of  the  Parlement.  The  furrier  longcd  to  place  the 
house  of  Lecamus  on  a  par  with  the  old  and  honored  familles 
of  Paris  citizens  which  had  produced  a  Pasquier,  a  Molé^  a 
Miron,  a  Séguier,  Lamoignon,  du  Tillet,  Leeoigneux,  Lesca- 
lopier,  the  Goix,  the  Arnaulds, — ail  the  famous  sherifTs  and 
high-provosts  of  corporations  who  had  rallied  to  défend  the 
throne. 

To  the  end  that  Christophe  might  in  that  day  do  crédit 
to  his  rank,  he  wanted  him  to  marry  the  daughter  of  the  rich- 
est  goldsmith  in  the  Cite,  his  neighbor  Lallier,  whose  nephew, 
at  a  later  day,  presented  the  keys  of  Paris  to  Henry  IV.  The 
raost  deeply  rooted  pnrpose  in  the  good  man's  heart  was  to 
spend  half  his  own  fortune  and  half  of  Lallier's  in  the  pur- 
ehase  of  a  lordly  estate,  a  long  and  difFicult  matter  in  those 
days. 

But  he  was  too  deep  a  schemer,  and  knew  the  times  too 
well,  to  overlook  the  great  movements  that  were  being 
hatched;  he  saw  plainly,  and  saw  truly,  when  he  looked  for- 
ward  to  the  division  of  the  kingdom  into  two  camps.  The 
u.'îeless  exécutions  on  the  Place  de  l'Estrapade,  that  of  Henri 
II.'s  tailor,  and  that,  still  more  récent,  of  the  Councillor 
Anne  du   Bourg,   besides  the   connivance   of  the   reigning 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  67 

favorite  in  the  time  of  Francis  I.,  and  of  many  nobles  now, 
at  the  progress  of  reform,  ail  were  alarniing  indications. 
The  furrier  was  determined,  corne  what  might,  to  remain 
faithful  to  the  Church,  the  Monarchy,  and  the  Parlement, 
but  he  was  secretly  well  content  that  his  son  should  join 
the  lleformation.  He  knew  that  he  had  wealth  enough  to 
ransom  Christophe  if  the  lad  should  ever  compromise  himself 
seriously  ;  and  then,  if  France  should  turn  Calvinist,  his  son 
could  save  the  family  in  any  furious  outbreaks  in  the  capital 
such  as  the  citizens  could  vividly  remember,  and  as  would 
recur  again  and  again  through  four  reigns. 

Like  Louis  XI.,  the  old  furrier  never  confessed  thèse 
thoughts  even  to  himself  ;  his  cunning  completely  deceived  his 
wife  and  his  son.  For  many  a  day  this  solemn  personage  had 
been  the  recognized  head  of  the  most  populous  quarter  of 
Paris — the  heart  of  the  city — bearing  the  title  of  Quartenier, 
which  became  notorious  fifteen  years  later.  Clothed  in  cloth, 
like  every  prudent  citizen  who  obeyed  the  sumptuary  laws, 
Master  Lecamus — the  Sieur  Lecamus,  a  title  he  held  in 
virtue  of  an  edict  of  Charles  V.  permitting  the  citizens  of 
Paris  to  purchase  Seigneuries,  and  their  wives  to  assume  the 
fine  title  of  demoiselle  or  mistress — wore  no  gold  chain,  no 
silk;  only  a  stout  doublet  with  large  buttons  of  blackened 
silver,  wrinkled  hose  drawn  up  above  his  knee,  and  leather 
shoes  with  buckles.  His  shirt,  of  fine  linen,  was  pulled  out, 
in  the  fashion  of  the  time,  into  full  puffs  through  his  half- 
buttoned  waistcoat  and  slashed  trunks. 

Though  the  full  light  of  the  lamp  fell  on  the  old  man's 
broad  and  handsome  head,  Christophe  had  no  inkling  of 
the  thoughts  hidden  behind  that  rich  Dutch-looking  com- 
plexion  ;  still  he  understood  that  his  old  father  meant  to  take 
some  advantage  of  his  affection  for  pretty  Babette  Lallier. 
And  Christophe,  as  a  man  who  had  laid  his  own  schemes, 
smiled  sadly  when  he  heard  the  invitation  sent  to  his  fair 
mistress. 

As  soon  as  la  Bourguignonne  and  the  apprentices  were 
gone,  old  Lecamus  looked  at  his  wife  with  an  expression  that 
fully  showed  his  firm  and  resolute  temper. 


68  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

"You  will  ncvor  rcst  till  yoii  havo  pot  thc  boy  hanged  with 
your  ilanincd  tonguo!"  sait!  he  in  stcrn  toncs. 

*'I  woiiUl  rallier  soe  liini  hanj^od,  but  saved,  tban  alivc  and 
a  llupuonot,"  was  tlio  glooniy  rojdy.  "To  tbink  tbal  tlic  child 
1  bore  wilbin  nie  for  ninc  months  sliould  not  bc  a  good 
Catholic,  but  hankcr  aftcr  tbo  hérésies  of  Colas — tliat  he 
must  spcnd  ail  ctcrnity  in  hcll "  and  shc  began  to  cry. 

"You  old  fool  !"  said  the  furricr,  "thcn  give  hira  a  chance 
of  life,  if  only  to  convcrt  him  !  Why,  you  said  a  thing, 
beforc  thc  apprcntices,  whieh  might  set  our  house  on  fîre, 
and  roast  us  ail  in  it  likc  fleas  in  straw." 

The  mother  crossed  herself,  but  said  nothing. 

"As  for  you,"  said  the  good  man,  with  a  scrutinizing 
look  at  his  son,  "tell  me  what  you  were  doing  out  therc 

on  the  wnter  with Corne  close  to  me  while  I  speak  to 

you,"  he  added,  seizing  his  son  by  the  arm,  and  drawing  him 
close  to  him  while  he  whispered  in  the  lad's  ear — "with  the 
Prince  de  Condé."  Christophe  started.  "Do  you  suppose 
that  the  Court  furrier  does  not  know  ail  their  faces?  And 
do  3'ou  fancy  that  I  am  not  aware  of  what  is  going  on? 
Monseigneur  the  Grand  Master  bas  ordcred  out  troops  to 
Amboise.  And  when  troops  are  removed  from  Paris  to  Am- 
boise  while  the  Court  is  at  Blois,  when  they  are  marched 
by  way  of  Chartres  and  Vendôme  instead  of  by  Orléans,  the 
meaning  is  pretty  clear,  heh?     Trouble  is  brewing. 

"If  the  Queens  want  their  surcoats,  they  will  scnd  for 
them.  The  Prince  de  Condé  may  be  intending  to  kill  Mes- 
sieurs de  Guise,  who  on  their  part  mean  to  get  rid  of  him 
perhaps.  Of  what  use  can  a  furricr's  son  be  in  such  a  broil  ? 
When  you  are  married,  when  you  are  a  pleader  in  the  Parle- 
ment, you  will  be  as  cautions  as  your  father.  A  furricr's 
son  bas  no  business  to  be  of  the  new  religion  till  ail  the 
rest  of  the  world  is.  I  say  nothing  against  the  Reformers; 
it  is  no  business  of  mine  ;  but  the  Court  is  Catholic,  the  two 
Queens  are  Catholics,  the  Parlement  is  Catholic;  we  serve 
them  with  furs,  and  we  must  be  Catholic. 

'TTou  do  not  stir  from  hère,  Christophe,  or  I  will  place 


ABOÛT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  69 

you  with  your  godfather  the  Président  de  Thou,  who  will 
keep  you  at  it,  blaekening  paper  night  and  day,  instead  of 
leaving  you  to  blaeken  your  soûl  in  the  hell-broth  of  thèse 
damned  Genevese." 

"Father,"  said  Christophe,  leaning  on  the  baek  of  the  old 
man's  chair,  "send  me  ofî  to  Blois  with  Queen  Marie's  sur- 
coat,  and  to  ask  for  the  money,  or  I  am  a  lost  man.  And 
you  love  me " 

"Lost  !"  echoed  his  father,  without  any  sign  of  surprise. 
"If  you  stay  hère,  you  will  not  be  lost.  I  shall  know  where 
to  find  you." 

"1  shall  be  killed." 

"Why?" 

"The  most  zealous  Huguenots  hâve  cast  their  eyes  on  me 
to  serve  them  in  a  certain  matter,  and  if  I  fail  to  do  what 
I  hâve  just  promised,  they  will  kill  me  in  the  street,  in  the 
face  of  day,  hère,  as  Minard  was  killed.  But  if  you  send  me 
to  the  Court  on  business  of  your  own,  I  shall  probably  be 
able  to  justify  my  action  to  both  parties.  Either  I  shall 
succeed  for  them  without  running  any  risk,  and  so  gain  a 
good  position  in  the  party;  or,  if  the  danger  is  too  great,  I 
can  do  your  business  only." 

The  old  man  started  to  his  feet  as  if  his  seat  were  of  red- 
hot  iron. 

"Wife,"  said  he,  "leave  us,  and  see  that  no  one  intrudes  on 
Christophe  and  me." 

When  Mistress  Lecamus  had  left  the  room,  the  furrier 
took  his  son  by  a  button  and  led  him  to  the  corner  of  the 
room  which  formed  the  angle  towards  the  bridge. 

"Christophe,"  said  he,  quite  into  his  son's  ear,  as  he  had 
just  now  spoken  of  the  Prince  de  Condé,  'Hbe  a  Huguenot 
if  that  is  your  pet  vice,  but  with  prudence,  in  your  secret 
heart,  and  not  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  pointed  at  by  every  one 
in  the  neighborhood.  What  you  hâve  just  now  told  me  shows 
me  what  confidence  the  leaders  hâve  in  you. — What  are  you 
to  do  at  the  Court  ?" 

"I  cannot  tell  you,"  said  Christophe;  "I  do  not  quite 
know  that  myself  yet." 
5 


70  AHorr  CATIIERIXE  DK'   MKHICI 

"H'm,  h'in."  said  Ihc  olil  iiian,  lookiii^'  n(  tlie  lad,  "the 
young  rascal  wants  lo  luxidwink  liis  fallior.  llo  will  go  far! 
— Woll,  wcll,"  lie  woiit  on,  in  an  midi  r(one,  "you  are  not 
poiiii;  to  Hlois  to  niako  ovcM-turi's  to  tlie  Cîuiscs,  nor  to  tlic 
litllo  King  our  Sovi-roign,  nor  (o  littlo  (^luvn  Mary.  AU 
tliesc  are  Catholics;  but  1  could  swcar  thaï  (hc  Ualian  (^uccn 
owcs  tlîo  Scotcli  woiiian  and  tlic  Lorraines  some  grudge:  I 
know  lier.  Slie  lias  bcen  dying  to  put  a  fln<:;cr  in  thc  pie. 
The  late  King  was  so  much  ufraid  of  lier  thaï,  like  the 
jewelcrs,  he  iiscd  diamond  to  eut  dianiond,  one  wonian 
againift  another.  llence  (^hieen  Catherine's  hatred  of  the 
poor  Duchesse  de  Valentinois,  froni  whoni  she  took  the  fine 
Château  of  ("henonceaux.  But  for  Monsieur  le  Connétable, 
the  Duchess  would  hâve  had  her  neck  wrung  at  least 

"Hands  off,  niy  boy!  Do  not  trust  yourself  within  reach 
of  the  Italian  woman,  whose  only  passions  are  in  lier  liead; 
a  bad  sort  that. — Ay,  the  business  you  are  sent  to  the  Court 
to  do  will  give  you  a  bad  hcadache,  I  fear,"  cried  the  father, 
seeing  that  Christophe  was  about  to  speak.  "My  boy,  I  hâve 
two  schemes  for  your  future  life;  you  will  not  spoil  them 
by  being  of  service  to  Quecn  Catherine.  But,  for  God's  sake, 
keep  your  head  on  your  shoulders  !  And  the  Guises  would 
eut  it  off  as  la  Bourguignonne  cuts  off  a  turnip,  for  the 
peoplc  who  are  employing  you  would  throw  you  over  at 
once." 


«1 


'I  know  that,  father,"  said  Christophe. 

"And  you  are  so  bold  as  that  !  You  know  it,  and  you  will 
risk  it  ?" 

"Yes,  father." 

"Why,  the  Devil's  in  it  !"  cried  the  old  man,  hugging  his 
son,  "we  may  understand  each  other;  you  are  your  father's 
son. — My  boy,  you  will  be  a  crédit  to  the  family,  and  your 
old  father  may  be  plain  with  you,  I  see. — But  do  not  be 
more  of  a  Huguenot  than  the  Messieurs  de  Coligny;  and  do 
not  draw  your  sword.  You  are  to  be  a  man  of  the  pen; 
stick  to  your  part  as  a  sucking  lawyer. — Well,  tell  me  no 
more  till  you  hâve  succeeded.     If  I  hear  nothing  of  you  for 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  71 

four  days  after  you  reach  Blois,  that  silence  will  tell  me  that 
y  ou  are  in  danger.  Tlicn  the  old  man  will  follow  to  save 
thc  young  one,  I  hâve  not  sold  furs  for  thirty  years  without 
knowing  the  seamy  side  of  a  Court  robe.  I  can  find  means 
of  opening  doors." 

Christophe  stared  with  amazement  at  hearing  his  father 
spcak  thus;  but  he  feared  some  parental  snare,  and  held  liis 
tongue. 

Then  he  said: 

"Very  well,  make  up  the  account;  write  a  letter  to  the 
Queen.  I  must  be  off  this  moment,  or  dreadful  things  will 
happen." 

"Beoff?    Buthow?" 

"I  will  buy  a  horse. — Write,  for  God's  sake!" 

"Hère  !  Mother  !  Give  your  boy  some  money,"  the  f urrier 
called  out  to  his  wife. 

She  came  in,  ilew  to  her  chest,  and  gave  a  purse  to  Chris- 
tophe, who  excitedly  kissed  her. 

"The  account  was  ready,"  said  his  father;  'Tiere  it  is.  I 
will  Write  the  letter." 

Christophe  took  the  bill  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"But  at  any  rate  you  will  sup  with  us,"  said  the  goodman. 
"In  this  extremity  you  and  the  Lallier  girl  must  exchange 
rings." 

"Well,  I  will  go  to  fetch  her,"  cried  Christophe. 

The  young  man  feared  some  indécision  in  his  father,  whose 
character  he  did  not  thoroughly  appreciate  ;  he  went  up  to  his 
room,  dressed,  took  out  a  small  trunk,  stole  downstairs,  and 
placed  it  with  his  cloak  and  rapier  under  a  counter  in  the 
shop. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  about  ?"  asked  his  father,  hearing 
him  there. 

"I  do  not  want  any  one  to  see  my  préparations  for  leaving; 
I  bave  put  everything  under  the  counter/'  he  whispered  in 
reply. 

"And  hère  is  the  letter,"  said  his  father. 

Christophe  took  the  paper,  and  went  out  as  if  to  fetch  their 
neighbor. 


72  ABOl'T  (WTIIKUINE  DE*  MEDICI 

A  fi'w  moments  after  C'hristoplio  li;ul  «^ono  out,  old  Tjallicr 
aiul  liis  daughtcr  camo  in,  procedcd  by  a  womaii-servaut 
carrvinj;  throo  botlles  of  old  wine. 

"Woll.  and  wlicre  is  Cliristo])he?"  askcd  tho  furriLT  and 
his  wife. 

"Christophe?"  said  Babette;  "wc  hâve  not  seen  liiui." 

"A  pretty  rogue  is  niy  son!"  cried  Lecamus.  "lie  tricks 
me  as  if  I  Iiad  no  bcard.  Wliy,  old  gossip,  what  will  corne 
to  us?  We  live  in  timos  when  tlu'  childron  are  ail  too  élever 
for  their  fathcrs  !" 

"But  he  bas  long  been  regarded  by  ail  the  neighbors  as 
a  mad  follower  of  Colas,"  said  Lallier. 

"Défend  him  stoutly  on  that  score,"  said  the  furrier  to  the 
goldsmith.  "Youth  is  foolish,  and  runs  after  anything  new; 
but  Babette  will  koop  him  quiet,  she  is  even  nevver  than 
Calvin." 

Babette  smiled.  She  truly  loved  Christophe,  was  afïronted 
by  everything  that  was  ever  said  against  him.  She  was  a  girl 
of  the  good  old  middle-class  type,  brought  up  under  her 
mother's  eye,  for  she  had  never  left  her;  her  demeanor  was 
as  gentle  and  précise  as  her  features;  she  was  dressed  in 
stuff  of  harmonious  tones  of  gray;  her  ruff,  plainly  pleated, 
was  a  contrast  by  its  whiteness  to  her  sober  gown;  on  her 
head  was  a  black  velvet  cap,  like  a  child's  hood  in  shape, 
but  trimmed,  on  each  side  of  her  face,  with  frills  and  ends 
of  tan-colored  gauze.  Though  she  was  fair-haired,  with  a 
white  skin,  she  seemed  cunning  and  crafty,  though  trying 
to  hide  her  wiliness  under  the  expression  of  a  simple  and 
honest  girl. 

As  long  as  the  two  women  remained  in  the  room,  coming 
to  and  fro  to  lay  the  cloth,  and  place  the  jugs,  the  large 
pewter  dishes,  and  the  knives  and  forks,  the  goldsmith  and 
his  daughter,  the  furrier  and  his  wife,  sat  in  front  of  the 
high  chimney-place,  hung  with  red  serge  and  black  fringes, 
talking  of  nothing.  It  was  in  vain  that  Babette  asked 
where  Christophe  could  be  ;  the  young  Huguenot's  father 
and  mother  made  ambiguous  replies;  but  as  soon  as  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  73 

party  had  sat  down  to  their  meal,  and  the  two  maids  were 
in  the  kitchen,  Lecamus  said  to  his  future  daughter-in-law  : 

"Christophe  is  gone  to  the  Court." 

"To  Blois  !  What  a  journey  to  take  without  saying  good- 
bye  to  me  !"  said  Babette. 

"He  was  in  a  great  hurry,"  said  his  old  mother. 

"Old  friend,"  said  the  furrier  to  Lallier,  taking  up  the 
thread  of  the  conversation,  "we  are  going  to  see  hot  work  in 
Prance;  the  Reformers  are  astir." 

"If  they  win  the  day,  it  will  only  be  after  long  fighting, 
which  will  be  very  bad  for  trade,"  said  Lallier,  incapable 
of  looking  higher  than  the  commercial  point  of  view. 

"My  father,  who  had  seen  the  end  of  the  wars  between  the 
Bourguignons  and  the  Armagnacs,  told  me  that  our  family 
would  never  bave  lived  through  them  if  one  of  his  grand- 
fathers — his  mother's  father — had  not  been  one  of  the  Goix, 
the  famous  butchers  at  the  Halle,  who  were  attached  to  the 
Bourguignons,  while  the  other,  a  Lecamus,  was  on  the  side 
of  the  Armagnacs;  they  pretended  to  be  ready  to  flay  each 
other  before  the  outer  world,  but  at  home  they  were  very  good 
friends.  So  we  will  try  to  save  Christophe.  Perhaps  a  time 
may  come  when  he  will  save  us." 

"You  are  a  cunning  dog,  neighbor,"  said  the  goldsmith. 

"No,"  replied  Lecamus.  "The  citizen  class  must  take 
care  of  itself,  the  populace  and  the  nobility  alike  owe  it  a 
grudge.  Everybody  is  afraid  of  the  middle  class  in  Paris 
excepting  the  King,  who  knows  us  to  be  his  friends." 

"You  who  know  so  much,  and  who  bave  seen  so  much," 
said  Babette  timidly,  "pray  tell  me  what  it  is  that  the  Re- 
formers want." 

"Ay,  tell  us  that,  neighbor!"  cried  the  goldsmith.  "I 
knew  the  late  King's  tailor,  and  I  always  took  him  to  be  a 
simple  soûl,  with  no  great  genius  ;  he  was  much  such  another 
as  you  are,  they  would  bave  given  him  the  Host  without  re- 
quiring  him  to  confess,  and  ail  the  time  he  was  up  to  his 
eyes  in  this  new  religion. — He  !  a  man  whose  ears  were  worth 
many   hundred   thousand   crowns.     He   must   hâve   known 


TJ  AlHH'r  CAMMIKUINE  Dir   MEDICI 

soiiu'  socri'ts  worth  lu-ariii^  fin-  thc  Kiiig  ami  Miulaino  de 
N'iili'iitinois  to  bo  piVï^i-nt  wlun  \\c  was  turturccl." 

"Av  !  aiul  torriblo  socrots  too,''  saitl  tho  furricr.  "The 
Keformation,  my  frionds,"  lio  wcnt  on,  iii  a  low  voicc,  "will 
give  the  Churi'h  la  mis  hack  lo  liir  i-itizen  class.  When  cccle- 
siastical  privilcges  aiv  annulk'd,  tlic  iù'fonm'rs  incan  to  claiin 
oqualily  of  taxation  for  tlu-  nobles  and  thc  niiddlo  class,  and 
to  havc  only  thc  King  abovc  ail  alikc — if  indccd  thcy  hâve 
a  king  at  ail." 

"What,  do  away  with  the  Throne?"  cried  Lallicr. 

"Wcll,  ncighbor,"  said  Lccamus,  "in  thc  Low  Countries 
thc  citizcns  govcrn  thcnisclves  by  provosts  over  theni,  who 
elect  a  tcmjiorary  chicf." 

"God  blcss  nie  !  Ncighbor,  wc  inight  do  ail  tlicsc  fine 
things,  and  still  bc  Catholics,"  said  the  goldsniith. 

"We  are  too  old  to  see  the  triiimph  of  the  niiddle  class  in 
Paris,  but  it  will  triumph,  ncighbor,  ail  in  good  time  !  Why, 
thc  King  is  boiind  to  rcly  on  us  to  hold  his  own,  and  we 
havc  always  bccn  well  paid  for  our  support.  And  the  last 
time  ail  the  citizcns  were  ennoblcd,  and  thcy  had  Icave  to 
buy  manors,  and  take  the  names  of  their  estâtes  without  any 
spécial  letters  patent  from  the  King.  You  and  I,  for  in- 
stance, grandsons  of  the  Goix  in  thc  female  linc,  are  we  not 
as  good  as  many  a  nobleman?" 

This  speech  was  so  alarming  to  the  goldsmith  and  the 
two  women,  that  it  was  followed  by  a  long  silence.  The 
leaven  of  1789  was  already  germinating  in  the  blood  of 
Lccamus,  who  was  not  yet  so  old  but  that  he  lived  to  see  the 
daring  of  his  class  undcr  the  Ligue. 

"Is  business  prctty  firm  in  spite  of  ail  this  turmoil?" 
Lallicr  asked  the  furrier's  wife. 

"It  always  upsets  trade  a  littlc,"  said  she. 

"Yes,  and  so  I  havc  a  great  mind  to  make  a  lawyer  of 
my  son,"  added  Lccamus.    "People  are  always  going  to  law." 

The  conversation  then  dwelt  on  the  commonplacc,  to  the 
goldsmith's  great  satisfaction,  for  he  did  not  like  political 
disturbances  or  over-boldness  of  thought. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  75 

The  banks  of  the  Loire,  from  Blois  as  far  as  Angers,  were 
always  greatly  favored  b}^  the  two  last  branches  of  the  Royal 
Family  who  occupied  the  throne  before  the  advent  of  the 
Bourbons.  This  beautiful  valley  so  well  deserves  the  préfér- 
ence of  kings,  that  one  of  our  niost  élégant  writers  describes 
it  as  follows  : — "There  is  a  province  in  France  which  is  never 
sufficiently  admired.  As  flagrant  as  Italy,  as  fiowery  as  the 
banks  of  the  Guadalquivir,  beautiful  besides  with  its  own 
peculiar  beauty.  Wholly  French,  it  has  always  been  French, 
unlike  our  Northern  provinces,  debased  by  Teutonic  in- 
fluence, or  our  Southern  provinces,  which  hâve  been  the  con- 
cubines of  the  Moors,  of  the  Spaniards,  of  every  nation  that 
has  coveted  them — this  pure,  chaste,  brave,  and  loyal  tract 
is  Touraine  !  There  is  the  seat  of  historié  France.  Auvergne 
is  Auvergne,  Languedoc  is  Languedoc  and  nothing  more  ;  but 
Touraine  is  France,  and  the  truly  national  river  to  us  is  the 
Loire  which  waters  Touraine.  We  neod  not,  therefore,  be 
surprised  to  find  such  a  quantity  of  monuments  in  the  de- 
partments  which  hâve  taken  their  names  from  that  of  the 
Loire  and  its  dérivations.  At  every  step  in  that  land  of 
enchantment  we  come  upon  a  picture  of  which  the  foreground 
is  the  river,  or  some  calm  reach,  in  whose  liquid  depths  are 
mirrored  a  château,  with  its  turrets,  its  woods,  and  its  danc- 
ing springs.  It  was  only  natural  that  large  fortunes  should 
centre  round  spots  where  Royalty  preferred  to  live,  and 
where  it  so  long  held  its  Court,  and  that  distinguished  birth 
and  merit  should  crowd  thither  and  build  palaces  on  a  par 
with  Royalty  itself." 

Is  it  not  strange,  indeed,  that  our  sovereigns  should  never 
bave  taken  the  advice  indirectly  given  them  by  Louis  XL, 
and  hâve  made  Tours  the  capital  of  the  kingdom  ?  Without 
any  very  great  expenditure,  the  Loire  might  hâve  been  navi- 
gable so  far  for  trading  vessels  and  light  ships  of  war.  There 
the  seat  of  Government  would  hâve  been  safe  from  surprise 
and  high-handed  invasion.  There  the  strongholds  of  the 
north  would  not  hâve  needed  such  sums  for  their  fortifica- 
tions, which  alone  hâve  cost  as  much  money  as  ail  the  splen- 


76  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

dors  of  Versailles.  If  Louis  XIW  liad  listcned  to  Vaul)an'3 
advice,  and  had  his  palace  built  al  Mont-Louis,  between  the 
Loire  and  tlu'  Cher,  jRTliaps  the  Révolution  of  1789  would 
nevor  hâve  taken  place. 

So  thèse  fair  banks  bear,  at  varions  spots,  clear  marks  of 
royal  favor.  The  châteaux  of  Chainbord,  Blois,  Auiboise, 
Chenonceaux,  Chaumont,  Plessis-les-Tours,  ail  the  résidences 
built  by  kings'  mistresses,  by  financiers,  and  noblenien,  at 
Véretz,  Azay-le-Iîideau,  LTssé,  Villandri.  Valençay,  Chanie- 
loup,  and  Duretal,  soine  of  whioh  hâve  disappearcd,  thouf:;!i 
most  are  still  slandinjx,  are  splcndid  buildinj^s,  full  of  the 
wonders  of  the  period  that  has  been  so  little  appreciated  by 
the  literary  sect  of  Media?valists. 

Of  ail  thèse  châteaux,  that  of  Blois,  where  the  Court  was 
then  residing,  is  the  one  on  which  the  magnificence  of  the 
Houscs  of  Orléans  and  of  A'alois  has  most  splcndidly  set  its 
Btamp;  and  it  is  the  most  curions  to  historians,  archœologists, 
and  Catholics.  At  that  time  it  stood  quite  alone.  The  town, 
enclosed  in  strong  walls  with  towers,  lay  below  the  strong- 
hold,  for  at  that  time  the  château  served  both  as  a  citadel  and 
as  a  country  résidence.  Overlooking  the  town,  of  which  the 
houses,  then  as  now,  climb  the  hill  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
river,  their  blue  slate  roofs  in  close  array,  there  is  a  triangular 
plateau,  divided  by  a  stream,  now  unimportant  since  it  runs 
underground,  but  in  the  fiftecnth  century,  as  historians  tell 
us,  flowing  at  the  bottom  of  a  rather  steep  ravine,  part  of 
which  remains  as  a  deep  hollow  way,  almost  a  précipice,  be- 
tween the  suburb  and  the  château. 

It  was  on  this  plateau,  with  a  slope  to  the  north  and  south, 
that  the  Comtes  de  Blois  built  themselves  a  "castel"  in  the 
architecture  of  the  twelfth  centurv,  where  the  notorious  Thi- 
bault le  Tricheur,  Thibault  le  Vieux,  and  many  more  hold 
a  court  that  becamo  famous.  In  those  days  of  pure  feudal 
rule.  whon  the  Kiner  was  no  more  than  i7if,er  pares  primns 
(the  first  araong  equals).  as  a  King  of  Poland  finely  ex- 
pressed  it,  the  Counts  of  Champagne,  of  Blois,  and  of  Anjou, 
the  mère  Barons  of  Norraandy,  and  the  Dukes  of  Brittany 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  77 

lived  in  the  style  of  sovereigns  and  gave  kings  to  the  proudest 
kingdoms.  The  Plantagenets  of  Anjou,  the  Lusignans  of 
Poitou,  the  Roberts  and  Williams  of  Xormandy,  by  their  au- 
dacious  courage  mingled  their  blood  with  royal  races,  and 
sometimes  a  simple  knight,  like  du  Glaicquin  (or  du  Gues- 
clin),  refused  royal  purple  and  preferred  the  Constable's 
sword. 

When  the  Crown  had  secured  Blois  as  a  royal  demesne, 
Louis  XII.,  who  took  a  fancy  to  the  place,  perhaps  to  get 
away  from  Plessis  and  its  sinister  associations,  built  on  to 
the  château,  at  an  angle,  so  as  to  face  east  and  west,  a  wing 
Connecting  the  résidence  of  the  Counts  of  Blois  with  the  older 
structure,  of  which  nothing  now  remains  but  the  immense 
hall  where  the  States-General  sat  under  Henri  III.  Francis 
I.,  before  he  fell  in  love  with  Chambord,  intended  to  finish 
the  château  by  building  on  the  other  two  sides  of  a  square; 
but  he  abandoned  Blois  for  Chambord,  and  erected  only  one 
wing,  which  in  his  time  and  in  that  of  his  grandsons  prac- 
tically  constituted  the  château. 

This  third  building  of  Francis  I.'s  is  much  more  extensive 
and  more  highly  decorated  than  the  Louvre  de  Henri  IL,  as 
it  is  called.  It  is  one  of  the  most  fantastic  efforts  of  the 
architecture  of  the  Renaissance.  Indeed,  at  a  time  when  a 
more  reserved  style  of  building  prevailed,  and  no  one  cared 
for  the  Middle  Ages,  a  time  when  literature  was  not  so  inti- 
mately  allied  with  art  as  it  now  is,  la  Fontaine  wrote  of  the 
Château  of  Blois  in  his  characteristically  artless  language; 
*'Looking  at  it  from  outside,  the  part  donc  by  order  of 
Francis  I.  pleased  me  more  than  ail  the  rest;  there  are  a 
number  of  little  Windows,  little  balconies,  little  colonnades, 
little  ornaments,  not  regularly  ordered,  which  make  up  some- 
thing  great  which  I  found  very  pleasing." 

Thus  the  Château  of  Blois  had  the  attraction  of  represent- 
ing  three  différent  kinds  of  architecture — three  periods,  three 
Systems,  three  dynasties.  And  there  is  not,  perhaps,  any 
other  royal  résidence  which  in  this  respect  can  compare  with 
it.    The  vast  building  shows,  in  one  enclosure,  in  one  court- 


78  AHOUT  CArilIllMM:   DIO'  MKDICI 

yard,  n  comploto  piotnic  of  tlmt  ^nrat   j)ro(luct  of  national 
lift'  nnd  niaiinors  wliifh  Aivliitccdire  always  is. 

Al  tlu'  liino  wlu'n  Cliristoiilu»  wns  boutul  for  thc  Court, 
tliat  portion  of  thc  procincts  on  wliich  a  fourth  palace  now 
standîî — thc  win^  addcd  scvcnty  ycars  latcr,  du  ring  lus  exile, 
by  Gaston,  Louis  Xlll.'s  rcbcllious  brothcr — was  laid  ont 
in  pasturcs  and  tcrracod  gardcns,  piclnrcsqucly  sratlcrcd 
among  thc  foundation  stoncs  and  uniinishcd  towcrs  hcgun  l)y 
Francis  I.  Thcsc  gardcns  wcre  joincd  by  a  bold  flying  bridge 
— which  some  old  inhabitants  still  alivc  saw  destroyed — to 
a  gardcn  on  thc  othcr  side  of  thc  château,  which  by  the  slope 
of  the  ground  lay  on  thc  sanie  Icvcl.  The  gentlemen  attached 
to  Quecn  Anne  de  Bretagne,  or  thoso  wlio  ai)proachcd  hcr 
with  pétitions  froni  lier  native  province,  to  diseuss,  or  to 
inforni  lier  of  the  state  of  afïairs  there,  were  wont  to  await 
hcr  pleasure  hère,  her  lever,  or  the  hour  of  lier  walking  out. 
Hence  history  has  handed  down  to  us  as  the  name  of  this 
plcasauncc  Le  Perchoir  aux  Bretons  (the  Brcton's  Pcrcli)  ; 
it  now  is  an  orchard  belonging  to  sonic  privatc  citizen,  pro- 
jecting  beyond  the  Place  des  Jésuites.  That  square  also  was 
then  included  in  the  domain  of  this  noble  résidence  which  had 
its  upper  and  its  lower  gardcns.  At  some  distance  from  the 
Place  des  Jésuites,  a  summor-housc  may  still  be  seen  built 
by  Catherine  de'  Medici,  as  local  historians  tell  us,  to  accom- 
modate  her  hot  baths.  This  statement  enablcs  us  to  trace 
the  very  irrcgular  arrangement  of  the  gardcns  which  went 
up  and  down  hill,  following  the  undulations  of  the  soil  ;  the 
land  about  the  château  is  indeed  very  uneven,  a  fact  which 
addcd  to  its  strength,  and,  as  we  shall  see,  caused  the  difh- 
culties  of  the  Duc  de  Guise. 

The  gardens  were  reached  by  corridors  and  terraces;  the 
chief  corridor  was  known  as  the  Galerie  des  Cerfs  (or  stags), 
on  account  of  its  décorations.  This  passage  led  to  a  magnifi- 
cent  staircase,  which  undoubtedly  suggested  the  famous  dou- 
ble staircase  at  Chambord,  and  which  led  to  the  apartments 
on  each  floor. 

Though  la  Fontaine  preferred  the  château  of  Francis  I. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  79 

to  that  of  Louis  XII.,  the  simplicity  of  the  Père  du  Peuple 
may  perhaps  charm  the  gcnuine  artist,  much  as  he  may 
admire  the  splendor  of  the  more  chivalrous  king.  The 
élégance  of  the  two  staircases  which  lie  at  the  two  extremi- 
ties  of  Louis  XII.'s  building,  the  quantity  of  fine  and  origi- 
nal carving,  of  which,  though  time  has  daraaged  them,  the 
remains  are  still  the  delight  of  antiquaries;  everything,  to 
the  almost  cloister-like  arrangement  of  the  rooms,  points 
to  very  simple  habits.  As  yet  the  Court  was  evidently  non- 
existent,  or  had  not  attained  such  development  as  Francis 
I.  and  Catherine  de'  Medici  subsequently  gave  it,  to  the  great 
détriment  of  feudal  manners.  As  we  admire  the  brackets, 
the  capitals  of  some  of  the  columns,  and  some  little  figures 
of  exquisite  delicacy,  it  is  impossible  not  to  fancy  that  Michel 
Colomb,  the  great  sculptor,  the  Michael  Angelo  of  Brittany, 
must  hâve  passed  that  way  to  do  his  Queen  Anne  a  pleasure, 
before  immortalizing  her  on  lier  father's  tomb — the  last 
Duke  of  Brittany. 

Whatever  la  Fontaine  may  say,  nothing  can  be  more  stately 
than  the  résidence  of  Francis,  the  magnificent  King.  Thanks 
to  I  know  not  what  coarse  indifférence,  perhaps  to  utter 
forgetfulness,  the  rooms  occupied  by  Catherine  de'  Medici 
and  her  son  Francis  II.  still  remain  almost  in  their  original 
state.  The  historian  may  reanimate  them  with  the  tragical 
scènes  of  the  Eeformation,  of  which  the  struggle  of  the 
Guises  and  the  Bourbons  against  the  House  of  Valois  formed 
a  complicated  drama  played  out  on  this  spot. 

The  buildings  of  Francis  I.  quite  crush  the  simpler  rési- 
dence of  Louis  XII.  by  sheer  mass.  From  the  side  of  the 
lower  gardens,  that  is  to  say,  from  the  modem  Place  des 
Jésuites,  the  château  is  twice  as  lofty  as  from  the  side  towards 
the  inner  court.  The  ground  floor,  in  which  are  the  famous 
corridors,  is  the  second  floor  in  the  garden  front.  Thus  the 
first  floor,  where  Queen  Catherine  rcsided,  is  in  fact  the 
third,  and  the  royal  apartments  are  on  the  fourth  above  the 
lower  garden,  which  at  that  time  was  divided  from  the 
foundations  by  a  very  deep  moat.     Thus  the  château,  im- 


80  ABOrr  CATIIKniNE   DE"   MEDICI 

po5in<;  ns  it  is  froin  tho  court,  soonis  quitc  gigantic  wlicn  socn 
froin  tho  l'iaco  as  la  Fontaine  saw  it,  for  he  owns  that  hc 
novor  had  becn  into  tlie  court  or  tho  rooins.  Froni  the  Place 
des  Jésuites  every  détail  looks  siiiall.  The  balconies  you  can 
walk  along.  the  colonnades  of  ex(iuisite  workniansliip,  tho 
sculptured  Windows — tlieir  recesses  within,  as  large  as  sniall 
roonip,  and  used,  in  fact,  at  that  tinie  as  boudoirs — hâve 
a  gênerai  elTect  resenibling  the  painled  fancies  of  operatic 
sccnery  wlien  the  artist  represents  a  fairy  palace.  But  once 
iuside  the  court,  tho  infinité  delicacy  of  this  architectural 
omanientation  is  displaycd,  to  the  joy  of  the  amazed  spectator, 
though  the  stories  above  the  ground  floor  arc,  cven  there, 
as  high  as  the  Pavillon  de  l'Horloge  at  the  Tuileries. 

This  part  of  the  building,  where  Catherine  and  Mary 
Stuart  hcld  magnificcnt  court,  had  in  the  middle  of  the 
façade  a  hexagonal  hollow  tower,  up  which  winds  a  stair- 
case  in  stone,  an  arabesque  dcvice  inventcd  by  giants  and 
executed  by  dwarfs  to  give  this  front  the  effect  of  a  dream. 
The  balustrade  of  the  stairs  riscs  in  a  spiral  of  rectangular 
panels  composing  the  fîve  walls  of  the  tower,  and  forming 
at  regular  intervais  a  transverse  cornice,  enriched  outside 
and  in  with  ilorid  carvings  in  stone.  This  bewildering 
création,  full  of  délicate  and  ingenious  détails  and  marvels 
of  workmanship,  by  which  thèse  stones  spcak  to  us,  can 
only  be  compared  to  the  overcharged  and  deeply  eut 
ivory  carvings  that  corne  from  China,  or  are  made  at 
Dieppe.  In  short,  the  stone  is  like  lace.  Flowers  and  figures 
of  men  and  animais  creep  down  the  ribs,  multiply  at  every 
step,  and  crown  the  vault  with  a  pendant,  in  which  the 
chisels  of  sixteenth  century  sculptors  hâve  outdone  the  art- 
less  stone-carvers  who,  fifty  years  before,  had  made  the  pend- 
ants for  two  staircases  in  Louis  XII. 's  building.  Though 
"we  may  be  dazzled  as  we  note  thèse  varied  forms  repeated 
with  infinité  prolixity,  we  nevertheless  perceive  that  Francis 
I.  lacked  money  for  Blois,  just  as  Louis  XIV.  did  for  Ver- 
sailles. In  more  than  one  instance  a  graceful  head  looks 
out  from  a  block  of  stone  almost  in  the  rough.    More  than 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  81 

one  fanciful  boss  is  but  sketched  with  a  few  strokes  of  the 
chisel,  and  then  abandoned  to  the  damp,  which  bas  over- 
grown  it  with  green  niould.  On  the  façade,  by  the  side  of 
one  window  carved  like  lace,  another  shows  us  the  massive 
frarae  eaten  into  by  time,  which  bas  carved  it  after  a  manner 
of  its  own. 

The  least  artistie,  the  least  experienced  eye  find£  hère  a 
■delightful  contrast  between  this  front,  rippling  with  marvels 
of  design,  and  the  inner  front  of  Louis  XII. 's  château,  con- 
sisting  on  the  ground  floor  of  arches  of  the  airiest  lightness, 
upheld  by  slender  columns,  resting  on  élégant  balustradeo, 
and  two  stories  above  with  Windows  wrought  with  charming 
severity.  Under  the  arches  runs  a  gallery,  of  which  the 
walls  were  painted  in  fresco;  the  vaulting  too  must  bave 
been  painted,  for  some  traces  are  still  visible  of  that  mag- 
nificence, imitated  from  Italian  architecture — a  réminiscence 
of  our  Kings'  journeys  thither  when  the  Milanese  belonged  to 
them. 

Opposite  the  résidence  of  Francis  I.  there  was  at  that  time 
the  chapel  of  the  Counts  of  Blois,  its  façade  almost  harmo- 
nizing  with  the  architecture  of  Louis  XII.'s  building.  No 
figure  of  speech  can  give  an  adéquate  idea  of  the  solid  dignity 
of  thèse  three  masses  of  building.  In  spite  of  the  varieties 
of  style,  a  certain  imposing  royalty,  showing  the  extent  of 
its  fear  by  the  magnitude  of  its  defences,  held  the  three 
buildings  together,  différent  as  they  were;  two  of  them 
flanking  the  immense  hall  of  the  States-General,  as  vast  and 
lofty  as  a  chureh. 

And  certainly  neither  the  simplicity  nor  the  solidity  of 
those  citizen  lives  which  were  described  at  the  beginning  of 
this  narrative — lives  in  which  Art  was  always  represented — 
was  lacking  to  this  royal  résidence.  Blois  was  the  fertile 
and  brilliant  example  which  found  a  living  response  from 
citizens  and  nobles,  from  money  and  rank,  alike  in  towns 
and  in  the  country.  You  could  not  bave  wished  that  the 
home  of  the  King  who  ruled  Paris  as  it  was  in  the  sixteenth 
century  should  be  other  than  this.     The  splendid  raiment 


82  AHoi  r  ("A  TiiiiKiM':  i>i:"  Mionici 

of  tho  nj^jHT  c'iiissos,  llu'  luxury  «)f  fciuinine  atliro,  inust  hâve 
si'oiiuhI  siiiiriiliirly  siiilcd  to  llie  rlnlHiratc  dross  of  llio  curi- 

OUsly  \Vl\)U^ht  stDlU'S. 

Kroin  tl()(H'  (o  iloor,  as  lie  inoinilcd  llir  woiuli'rful  stairs 
(if  lus  casllo  of  niois,  ilu'  Kiiiir  of  l'rancc  could  sec  furlhcr 
and  l'urtluT  ovrr  (hc  liraiiiil'ul  LniiT,  whicli  brou^^ht  liiiu 
lU'ws  of  ail  lus  rt'alm,  wlucli  it  paris  inio  two  confroiitcd 
and  alniost  rival  lialvcs.  If,  iiisli-ad  of  ])lacin<r  (-luunbord 
in  a  dead  and  glooniy  ])laiii  Iwo  Ica^ucs  iiway,  Francis  1.  liad 
built  a  C'hambord  to  eonijilclr  lUois  on  the  site  of  tlic  pir- 
dens,  where  CJaston  subscquently  erectod  bis  palace,  Versailles 
would  novor  bave  cxistcd,  and  Blois  would  incvitably  bave 
bcconic  tbo  capital  of  France. 

Four  Valois  and  Catherine  de'  ^Icdici  lavisbed  their  wealth 
on  tbc  Château  of  Blois,  but  any  one  can  guess  how  prodigal 
the  sovereigns  were,  only  from  seeing  the  thick  dividing  wall, 
the  spinal  column  of  the  building,  with  decp  alcôves  eut 
into  its  substance,  secret  stairs  and  closets  contrived  within 
it,  surrounding  such  vast  rooms  as  the  couneil  hall,  the 
guard-room,  and  the  royal  apartments,  in  which  a  conipany 
of  infantry  now  finds  ample  quarters.  Even  if  the  visiter 
should  fail  to  understand  at  a  first  glance  that  the  marvels 
of  the  interior  are  worthy  of  those  of  the  extcrior,  the  re- 
mains of  Catherine  de'  Medici's  room — into  which  Chris- 
tophe was  presontly  admitted — are  sufhcicnt  évidence  of  the 
élégant  art  which  peopled  thèse  rooms  with  lively  fancies, 
with  salamanders  sparkling  among  flowers,  with  ail  the  most 
brilliant  hues  of  the  palette  of  the  sixteenth  century  decorat- 
ing  the  darkest  staircase.  In  that  room  the  observer  may 
still  see  the  traces  of  that  love  of  gilding  which  Catherine 
had  brought  from  Italy,  for  the  princesses  of  her  country 
loved  (as  the  author  above  quoted  delightfully  expresses  it) 
to  overlay  the  châteaux  of  France  with  the  gold  gained  in 
trade  by  their  ancestors,  and  to  stamp  the  walls  of  royal 
rooms  with  the  sign  of  their  wealth. 

.The  Qucen-mother  occupied  the  rooms  on  the  fîrst  fioor 
that  had  formerly  been  those  of  Queen  Claude  de  France, 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  83 

Francis  I.'s  wife;  and  the  délicate  sculpture  is  still  to  be  seen 
of  double  C's,  with  a  device  in  pure  white  of  swans  and  lilies, 
signifying  Candidior  candidis,  the  wliitest  of  the  white,  the 
badge  of  that  Queen  whose  name,  like  Catherine's,  began 
with  C,  and  equally  appropriate  to  Louis  XII.'s  daughter 
and  to  the  mother  of  the  Valois;  for  notwithstanding  the 
violence  of  Calvinist  slander,  no  doubt  was  ever  thrown  on 
Catherine  de'  Medici's  enduring  fidelity  to  Henri  II. 

The  Queen-mother,  with  two  young  children  still  on  her 
hands — a  boy,  afterwards  the  Due  d'Alençon,  and  Margue- 
rite, who  became  the  wife  of  Henri  IV.,  and  whom  Charles 
IX.  called  Margot — needed  the  whole  of  this  first  floor. 

King  Francis  II.  and  his  Queen  Mary  Stuart  had  the 
royal  apartments  on  the  second  floor  that  Francis  I.  had  oc- 
cupied,  and  which  were  also  those  of  Henri  III.  The  royal 
apartments,  and  those  of  the  Queen-mother,  are  divided  from 
end  to  end  of  the  château  into  two  parts  by  the  famous  party 
wall,  four  feet  thick,  which  supports  the  thrust  of  the  im- 
mensely  thick  walls  of  the  rooras.  Thus  on  the  lower  as 
well  as  on  the  upper  floor  the  rooms  are  in  two  distinct  suites. 
That  half  which,  facing  the  south,  is  lighted  from  the  court, 
held  the  rooms  for  state  réceptions  and  public  business; 
while,  to  escape  the  beat,  the  private  rooms  had  a  north 
aspect,  where  there  is  a  splendid  frontage  with  arcades  and 
balconics,  and  a  view  over  the  county  of  the  A^endômois,  the 
Perchoir  aux  Bretons,  and  the  moats  of  the  town — the  only 
town  mentioned  by  the  great  fable  writer,  the  admirable  la 
Fontaine. 

Francis  I.'s  château  at  that  time  ended  at  an  enormous 
tower,  only  begun,  but  intended  to  mark  the  vast  angle 
the  palace  would  bave  formed  in  tuming  a  flank;  Gaston 
subsequently  demolished  part  of  its  walls  to  attach  his  palace 
to  the  tower;  but  he  never  finished  the  work,  and  the  tower 
remains  a  ruin.  This  royal  keep  was  used  as  a  prison,  or, 
according  to  popular  tradition,  as  oubliettes.  What  poet 
would  not  feel  deep  regret  or  weop  for  France  as  he  wanders 
now  through  the  hall  of  this  magnificent  château,  and  sees 


84  AnOl'T  CATIIKIUNE  DE"  MEDICI 

the  cxquisite  arabesques  of  Catlierino  de'  Medici's  room, 
whitowaslied  and  alniost  smothcred  b_v  order  of  the  governor 
of  the  barraeks  at  tlie  time  of  the  choiera — for  this  royal 
résidence  is  iiow  a  barrack. 

The  paneling  of  Catherine  de'  Medici's  closet,  of  which 
more  particular  mention  will  presently  be  made,  is  the  last 
relie  of  the  rich  furnishing  collected  by  five  artistic  kings. 

As  \ve  make  our  way  through  this  labyrinth  of  rooms,  halls, 
staircases,  and  turrets,  \ve  can  say  wiih  horrible  certainly, 
"llere  ^lary  Stuart  cajoled  her  husband  in  favor  of  the 
Guises.  There  those  Guises  insulted  Catherine.  Later,  on 
this  very  spot,  the  younger  Balafré  fell  under  the  swords 
of  the  avengers  of  the  Crown.  A  century  earlier  Louis  XII. 
signaled  from  that  window  to  invite  the  advance  of  his 
friend  the  Cardinal  d'Amboise.  From  this  baleony 
d'Épernon,  Ixavaillac's  accomplice,  welcomed  Queen  Marie 
de'  Medici,  who,  it  is  said,  knew  of  the  intended  régicide  and 
left  things  to  take  their  course  !" 

In  the  chapel  where  Henri  IV.  and  Marguerite  de  Valois 
were  betrothed — the  last  remuant  of  the  old  château  of  the 
Counts  of  Blois — the  regimental  boots  are  made.  This  won- 
derful  structure,  where  so  many  styles  are  combined,  where 
such  great  events  hâve  been  accomplished,  is  in  a  state  of 
ruin  which  is  a  disgrâce  to  France.  How  grievous  it  is  to 
those  who  love  the  mémorial  buildings  of  old  France,  to  feel 
that  ère  long  thèse  éloquent  stones  will  hâve  gone  the  way 
of  the  house  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  la  Vieille-Pelleterie  : 
they  will  survive,  perhaps,  only  in  thèse  pages. 

It  is  necessary  to  observe  that,  in  order  to  keep  a  keener 
eye  on  the  Court,  the  Guises,  though  they  had  a  mansion 
in  the  town,  which  is  still  to  be  seen,  had  obtained  permission 
to  réside  above  the  rooms  of  Louis  XII.  in  the  apartments 
since  used  by  the  Duchesse  de  Xemours,  in  the  upper  story  on 
the  second  floor. 

Francis  II.  and  his  young  Queen,  Mary  Stuart,  in  love 
like  two  children  of  sixteen,  as  they  were,  had  been  euddenly 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  85 

transferred,  one  cold  winter's  day,  from  Saint-Germain, 
which  the  Duc  de  Guise  thought  too  open  to  surprise,  to  the 
stronghold,  as  it  then  was,  of  Blois,  isolated  on  three  sides 
by  precipitous  slopes,  while  its  gâtes  were  strictly  guarded. 
The  Guises,  the  Queen's  uncles,  had  the  strongest  reasons 
for  not  living  in  Paris,  and  for  detaining  the  Court  in  a 
place  which  could  be  easily  guarded  and  defended. 

A  struggle  for  the  throne  was  being  carried  on,  which 
was  not  ended  till  twenty-eight  years  later,  in  1588,  when, 
in  this  same  château  of  Blois,  Henri  III.,  bitterly  humiliated 
by  the  House  of  Lorraine,  under  his  mother's  very  eyes, 
planned  the  death  of  the  boldest  of  the  Guises,  the  second 
Balafré  (or  scarred),  son  of  the  first  Balafré,  by  whom 
Catherine  de'  Medici  was  tricked,  imprisoned,  spied  on,  and 
threatened. 

Indeed,  the  fine  Château  of  Blois  was  to  Catherine  the 
Btrictest  prison.  On  the  death  of  her  husband,  who  had  al- 
ways  kept  her  in  leading-strings,  she  had  hoped  to  rule  ;  but, 
on  the  contrary,  she  found  herself  a  slave  to  strangers,  whose 
politeness  was  infinitely  more  cruel  than  the  brutality  of 
jailers.  She  could  do  nothing  that  was  not  known.  Those  of 
her  ladies  who  were  attached  to  her  either  had  levers  devoted 
to  the  Guises,  or  Argus  eyes  watching  over  them.  Indeed,  at 
that  time  the  conflict  of  passions  had  the  caprieious  vagaries 
which  they  always  dérive  from  the  powerful  antagonism  of 
two  hostile  interests  in  the  State.  Love-making,  which 
served  Catherine  well,  was  also  an  instrument  in  the  hands 
of  the  Guises.  Thus  the  Prince  de  Condé,  the  leader  of  the 
Eeforraed  party,  was  attached  to  the  Maréchale  de  Saint- 
André,  whose  husband  was  the  Grand  Master's  tool.  The 
Cardinal,  who  had  learned  from  the  affair  of  the  Vidarae  de 
Chartres  that  Catherine  was  unconquered  rather  than  un- 
conquerable,  was  paying  court  to  her.  Thus  the  play  of 
passions  brought  strange  complications  into  that  of  politics, 
making  a  double  game  of  chess,  as  it  were,  in  which  it  was 
necessary  to  read  both  the  heart  and  brain  of  a  man,  and  to 
judge,  on  occasion,  whether  one  would  not  belle  the  other, 
6 


86  ABOUT  CATIIKHINE  DE*  MIODICI 

Though  shc  livod  conslanlly  iindcr  tlic  cyo  of  (lie  rardinal 
do  Lorraine  or  of  his  hrotluT.  thc  Dm-  I-'ranrois  de  (iuiso, 
wlio  botli  distrustcd  hor,  Cathcriiic's  u\o<[  iiiimcdiale  and 
shrcwdest  oncmy  was  her  daiighter-in-law,  Quccu  Mary,  a 
little  fair  giri  as  niiscliicvous  as  a  waiting-inaid,  as  proud 
ns  a  Stuarl  niiglit  ho  wlio  woro  throo  rrowns,  as  learnod  as 
an  ancient  scholar,  as  tricky  as  a  scliool-girl,  as  niuch  in 
love  witli  her  husband  as  a  courtesan  of  lier  lover,  devoted 
to  her  uncles,  whom  she  admirod,  .iiid  dclightod  to  find  tliat 
King  Francis,  by  lier  persuasion,  slini-cd  lier  liigh  opinion 
of  them.  A  niother-in-law  is  always  a  person  dislikcd  by 
her  daughter-in-law,  especially  when  she  bas  won  thc  crown 
and  would  like  to  keep  i( — as  Catherine  had  iniprudently 
too  plainly  shown.  lier  former  position,  when  Diane  de 
Poitiers  ruled  King  Henri  IL,  had  been  more  endurable;  at 
least  she  had  enjoyed  the  homage  duo  to  a  Queen,  and  the 
respect  of  the  Court;  whereas,  now,  thc  Duke  and  the  Car- 
dinal, having  none  about  them  but  their  own  créatures, 
seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  humiliating  her.  Catherine,  a 
prisoner  among  courtiers,  was  the  object,  not  every  day, 
but  every  hour,  of  blows  offensive  to  her  dignity;  for  the 
Guises  persisted  in  carrying  on  the  same  system  as  the  late 
King  had  employed  to  thwart  her. 

The  six-and-thirty  years  of  disaster  which  devastated 
France  may  be  said  to  hâve  begun  with  the  scène  in  which 
the  most  perilous  part  had  been  allotted  to  the  son  of  the 
Queen's  furrier — a  part  which  makes  him  the  leading  figure 
in  this  narrative.  The  danger  into  which  this  zealous  re- 
former was  falling  became  évident  in  the  course  of  the  mom- 
ing  when  he  set  out  from  the  river-port  of  Beaugency, 
carrying  precious  documents  which  compromised  the  loftiest 
heads  of  the  nobility,  and  embarked  for  Blois  in  company 
with  a  crafty  partisan,  the  indefatigable  la  Renaudie,  who 
had  arrived  on  the  quay  before  him. 

While  the  barque  conveying  Christophe  was  being  wafted 
down  the  Loire  before  a  light  easterly  breeze,  the  famous 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  and  the  second  Duc  de  Guise,  one  of 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  87 

the  greatest  war  captains  of  the  time,  were  considering  their 
position,  like  two  eagles  on  a  rocky  peaJc,  and  looking  eau- 
tiously  round  bcfore  striking  the  first  great  blow  by  which 
they  tried  to  kill  the  Reformation  in  France.  This  was  to 
be  struck  at  Amboise,  and  it  was  repeated  in  Paris  twelve 
years  later,  on  the  2-ith  August  1572. 

In  the  course  of  the  previous  night,  three  gentlemen,  who 
played  an  important  part  in  the  twelve  years'  drama  that 
arose  from  this  double  plot  by  the  Guises  on  one  hand  and  the 
Reformers  on  the  other,  had  arrived  at  the  château  at  a 
furious  gallop,  leaving  their  horses  half  dead  at  the  postern 
gâte,  held  by  captains  and  men  who  were  wholly  devoted 
to  the  Duc  de  Guise,  the  idol  of  the  soldiery. 

A  Word  must  be  said  as  to  this  great  man,  and  first  of  ail 
a  Word  to  explain  his  présent  position. 

His  mother  was  Antoinette  de  Bourbon,  great-aunt  of 
Henri  lY.  But  of  what  account  are  alliances  !  At  this 
moment  he  aimed  at  nothing  less  than  his  cousin  de  Condé's 
head.  Mary  Stuart  was  his  nièce.  His  wife  was  Anne, 
daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  The  Grand  Connétable 
Anne  de  Montmorency  addressed  the  Duc  de  Guise  as  "Mon- 
seigneur," as  he  wrote  to  the  King,  and  signed  himself  "Your 
verv  humble  servant."  Guise,  the  Grand  Master  of  the 
King's  household,  wrote  in  reply,  "Monsieur  le  Connétable," 
and  signed,  as  in  writing  to  the  Parlement,  "Your  faithful 
friend." 

As  for  the  Cardinal,  nicknamed  the  Transalpine  Pope, 
and  spoken  of  by  Estienne  as  "His  Holiness,"  the  whole 
Monastic  Church  of  France  was  on  his  side,  and  he  treated 
with  the  Pope  as  his  equal.  He  was  vain  of  his  éloquence, 
and  one  of  the  ablest  theologians  of  his  time,  while  he  kept 
watch  over  France  and  Italy  by  the  instrumentality  of  three 
religious  Orders  entirely  devoted  to  him,  who  were  on  foot 
for  him  day  and  night,  serving  him  as  spies  and  reporters. 

Thèse  few  words  are  enough  to  show  to  what  a  height  of 
power  the  Cardinal  and  the  Duke  had  risen.  In  spite  of 
their  wealth  and  the  revenues  of  their  officers,  they  were  so 


SH  Aitor'P  ('atiii:ki\I':  niv  mkdici 

eutirolv  disintcToslcd.  or  so  iniuli  cnrricd  away  by  the  tide 
of  |>olitios.  ntid  so  «tcmutous  loo,  thaï  hotli  woro  \u  dobt — no 
douht  nfU'r  tlio  inaiincr  of  C';i>sar.  llciico,  wlicn  Henri  III. 
liad  soen  liis  throalçninjjj  foc  inurdcri'd,  ilio  sooond  Balafré, 
the  House  of  Guise  was  inevitahly  ruiiicd.  Tlieir  vast  outlay 
for  above  a  centnrv,  in  liope  of  seizing  the  Crown,  nccounts 
for  the  diH'MV  of  this  groat  Tlouse  nndcr  Louis  XIÎI.  and 
Tvouis  XI \\,  wh(>n  tho  sudd(Mi  ond  of  M.vn.vMK  rcvoalod  to  ail 
Europe  iiow  low  a  Chevalier  de  Lorraine  liad  fallen. 

So  the  Cardinal  a.nd  the  Duke,  proclaiinin^  themselves 
the  heirs  of  the  deposed  Carlovingian  kin<i;s,  bohaved  very 
insolcntly  to  Catherine  de'  Medici,  their  niece's  niother-in- 
la\r.  The  Duchesse  do  Cuise  S]>ared  Ciilherine  no  mortifica- 
tion; slîe  was  an  Este,  and  Catherine  de'  Medici  was  the 
daughtcr  of  sclf-nuide  Florentine  nicrchants,  whom  the  sov- 
ereigns  of  Europe  had  not  yet  admitted  to  their  royal  fra- 
ternity.  Francis  I.  had  regardcd  his  son's  marriage  with 
a  Medici  as  a  mésalliance,  and  had  only  allowed  it  in  the 
bclicf  that  this  son  would  never  be  the  Dauphin.  TTcnce  his 
fury  when  the  Dauphin  died,  poisoncd  by  the  Florentine 
Montecuculi. 

The  Estes  refused  to  recognize  the  Medici  as  Italian 
princes.  Thèse  time-honored  merchants  were,  in  fact,  strug- 
gling  with  the  impossible  problem  of  maintaining  a  throne 
in  the  midst  of  Rcpublican  institutions.  The  title  of  Grand 
Duke  was  not  bestowcd  on  the  Medici  till  much  later  by 
Philip  IL,  King  of  Spain  ;  and  they  earned  it  by  treason  to 
France,  their  benefactress,  and  by  a  servile  attachment  to 
the  Court  of  Spain,  which  was  covertly  thwarting  them  in 
Italy. 

"Flatter  none  but  your  cnemies  !"  This  grcat  axiom,  ut- 
tered  by  Catherine,  would  seem  to  hâve  ruled  ail  the  policy  of 
this  merchant  race,  which  never  lacked  great  men  till  its 
destinies  had  grown  great,  and  which  broke  down  a  little 
too  soon  "under  the  degeneracy  which  is  always  the  end  of 
royal  d^-nasties  and  great  families. 

For  three  générations  there  was  a  prelate  and  a  warrior 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  89 

of  the  House  of  Lorraine;  but,  which  is  perhaps  not  less  re- 
markable,  the  Churchman  had  always  shown — as  did  the 
Dresent  Cardinal — a  singular  likeness  to  Cardinal  Ximenes, 
whom  the  Cardinal  de  Kichelieu  also  resembled.  Thèse  five 
prelates  ail  had  faces  that  were  at  once  mean  and  terrifying; 
while  the  warrior's  face  was  of  that  Basque  and  mountain 
type  which  reappears  in  the  features  of  Henri  IV.  In  both 
the  father  and  the  son  it  was  seamed  by  a  scar,  which  did 
not  destroy  the  grâce  and  affability  that  bewitched  their  sol- 
diers  as  much  as  their  bravery. 

The  way  and  the  occasion  of  the  Grand  Master's  being 
wounded  is  not  without  interest  hère,  for  it  was  healed  by 
the  daring  of  one  of  the  personages  of  this  drama,  Ambroise 
Paré,  who  was  under  obligation  to  the  Syndic  of  the  fur- 
riers.  At  the  siège  of  Calais  the  Duke's  head  was  pierced 
by  a  lance  which,  entering  below  the  right  eye,  went  through 
to  the  neck  below  the  left  car,  the  end  broke  off  and  remained 
in  the  wound.  The  Duke  was  lying  in  his  tent  in  the  midst 
of  the  gênerai  woe,  and  would  hâve  died  but  for  the  bold 
promptitude  and  dévotion  of  Ambroise  Paré. 

"The  Duke  is  not  dead,  gentlemen,"  said  Paré,  turning 
to  the  bystanders,  who  were  dissolved  in  tears.  "But  he 
soon  will  be,"  he  added,  "unless  I  treat  him  as  if  he  were, 
and  I  will  try  it  at  the  risk  of  the  worst  that  can  befall 
me.     ,     .     .     You  see  !" 

He  set  his  left  foot  on  the  Duke's  breast,  took  the  stump  of 
the  lance  with  his  nails,  loosened  it  by  degrees,  and  at  last 
drew  the  spear-head  out  of  the  wound,  as  if  it  had  been  f  rom 
some  senseless  object  instead  of  a  man's  head.  Though  he 
cured  the  Prince  he  had  handled  so  boldly,  he  could  not 
hinder  him  from  bearing  to  his  grave  the  terrible  scar  froni 
which  he  had  his  name.  His  son  also  had  the  same  nickname 
for  a  similar  reason. 

Having  gained  entire  mastery  over  the  King,  who  was 
ruled  by  his  wife,  as  a  resuit  of  the  passionate  and  rautual 
affection  which  the  Guises  knew  how  to  turn  to  account,  the 
two  great  Princes  of  Lorraine  reigned  over  France,  and  had 


IK)  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICl 

not  au  oiK'iny  ai  Courl  Imi  Callu'riiie  de'  i\Ieclici.  And  no 
groat  politicinn  ovcr  playcd  a  doser  ganie.  The  respective 
attitudes  of  Henri  II. 's  aiubitious  widow,  and  of  the  no 
Icss  auibilious  lieuse  of  Lorraine,  was  synibolized,  as  it  were, 
bv  the  positions  they  held  on  the  terrace  of  the  cliâteau  on 
the  very  niorning  when  C'hristoplie  was  about  to  arrive  there. 
Tlic  Queen-uiother,  feigning  extrême  afToction  for  the 
Guises,  had  asked  to  be  informed  as  to  the  news  brought 
by  the  tliree  gentlemen  who  had  arrived  from  différent  parts 
of  tlie  kingdom  ;  but  shc  liad  been  mortified  by  a  polite  dis- 
missal  from  the  Cardinal.  She  was  walking  at  the  furthcr 
end  of  the  pleasaunce  above  the  Loire,  where  she  was  having 
an  observatory  erected  for  her  astrologer,  Ruggieri  ;  the 
building  may  still  be  secn,  and  from  it  a  wide  view  is  to  be 
had  over  the  beautiful  valley.  The  two  Guises  were  on  the 
opposite  side  overlooking  the  Vendômois,  the  upper  part  of 
the  town,  the  Perchoir  aux  Bretons,  and  the  postern  gâte  of 
the  château. 

Catherine  had  deceived  the  brothers,  tricking  them  by  an 
assumption  of  dissatisfaction;  for  she  was  really  very  glad  to 
be  able  to  speak  with  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  come  in 
hot  haste,  and  who  was  in  her  secret  confidence;  who  boldly 
played  a  double  game,  but  who  was,  to  be  sure,  well  paid 
for  it.  This  gentleman  was  Chiverni,  who  affected  to  be  the 
mère  tool  of  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  but  who  was  in  reality 
in  Catherine's  service.  Catherine  had  two  other  devoted 
allies  in  the  two  Gondis,  créatures  of  her  own;  but  they,  as 
Florentines,  were  too  open  to  the  suspicions  of  the  Guises 
to  be  sent  into  the  country  ;  she  kept  them  at  the  Court,  where 
their  every  word  and  action  was  closely  watched,  but  where 
they,  on  their  side,  watched  the  Guises  and  reported  to  Cath- 
erine. Thèse  two  Italians  kept  a  third  adhèrent  to  the 
Queen-mother's  faction,  Birague,  a  clcvcr  Piedmontese  who, 
like  Chiverni,  pretended  to  hâve  abandoned  Catherine  to 
attach  himseif  to  the  Guises,  and  who  encouraged  them  in 
their  undertakings  while  spying  for  Catherine. 

Chiverni  had  arrived  from  Écouen  and  Paris.     The  last 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  91 

to  ride  in  was  Saint-x\ndré,  Marshal  of  France,  who  rose  to 
be  such  an  important  personage  that  the  Guises  adopted  him 
as  the  third  of  the  triumvirate  they  formed  against 
Catherine  in  the  l'ollowing  year.  But  earlier  than  either 
of  thèse,  Vieilleville,  the  builder  of  the  Château  of 
Duretal,  who  had  also  by  his  dévotion  to  tlie  Guises  earaed 
the  rank  of  Marshal,  had  secretly  corne  and  more  secretly 
gone,  without  any  one  knowing  what  the  mission  might  be 
that  the  Grand  Master  had  given  him.  Saint-André,  it  was 
known,  had  been  instrueted  to  take  military  measures  to  en- 
tice  ail  the  reformers  who  were  under  arms  to  Amboise,  as 
the  resuit  of  a  council  held  by  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  the 
Duc  de  Guise,  Birague,  Chiverni,  Vieilleville,  and  Saint- 
André.  As  the  heads  of  the  House  of  Lorraine  thus  em- 
ployed  Birague,  it  is  to  be  supposed  that  they  trusted  to  their 
strength,  for  they  knew  that  lie  was  attached  to  the  Queen- 
mother  ;  but  it  is  possible  that  they  kept  him  about  them  with 
a  view  to  discovering  their  rivars  secret  designs,  as  she  allowed 
him  to  attend  them.  In  those  strange  times  the  double  part 
played  by  some  political  intrigtiers  was  known  to  both  the 
parties  who  employed  them;  they  were  like  cards  in  the 
hands  of  players,  and  the  eraftiest  won  the  game. 

Ail  through  this  sitting  the  brothers  had  been  impene- 
trably  guarded.  Catherine's  conversation  with  her  friends 
will,  however,  fully  explain  the  purpose  of  this  meeting,  con- 
vened  by  the  Guises  in  the  open  air/  at  break  of  day,  in  the 
terraced  garden,  as  though  every  one  feared  to  speak  within 
the  walls  full  of  ears  of  the  Château  of  Blois. 

The  Queen-mother,  who  had  been  walking  about  ail  the 
moming  with  the  two  Gondis,  under  pretence  of  examining 
the  observatory  that  was  being  built,  but,  in  fact,  anxiously 
"watching  the  hostile  party,  was  presently  joined  by  Chiverni. 
She  was  standing  at  the  angle  of  the  terrace  opposite  the 
Church  of  Saint-Nicholas,  and  there  feared  no  listeners.  The 
wall  is  as  high  as  the  church-towers,  and  the  Guises  always 
held  council  at  the  other  corner  of  the  terrace,  below  the 
dungeon  then  begun,  walking  to  and  from  the   Perchoir 


'.r2  APOUT   CATIIEHINI':    T>K'    MEDICI 

des  Bretons  and  tlic  aroado  Itv  tln'  lirid^c  wliicli  joincd  Ihc 
pirdens  to  \ho  PtTohdir.  'l'iu  ri>  was  nobody  nt  the  hottoni  of 
iho  ravi  no. 

Chivorni  took  tlu>  l^ucrn's  liand  to  kiss  il,  ami  slippcii  iiiio 
lier  finfxers  a  tiny  lottcr  witliout  bcinf]^  soen  by  llic  Italians. 
Cailiorinc  q\iickly  turnod  away,  walkcd  to  lhi>  ('(inicr  of  (lie 
jiarapct,  aiid  rcad  as  follows: — 

"Ydu  are  ])oworful  enou^di  to  kcep  tiie  balance  [vuv.  be- 
tween  the  great  ones,  and  to  niake  tlieni  contend  as  lo  wliit-li 
sball  serve  you  best;  yoii  hâve  your  bmisc  rull  ol"  kings,  and 
need  net  fear  eithcr  I^orraincs  or  liourbons  so  long  as  you  set 
thoni  against  each  other;  for  both  sides  aim  at  snatching  the 
crown  from  your  children.  Be  your  advisers'  mistrcss,  and 
not  their  slave;  keep  up  each  side  by  the  other;  otherwise  the 
kingdom  will  go  from  bad  to  worse,  and  great  wars  may 
ensue.  L'Hôpital." 

The  Queen  placed  this  letter  in  the  bosom  of  her  stom- 
acher,  rcminding  herself  to  burn  it  as  soon  as  she  should  be 
alone. 

"When  did  you  see  him  ?"  she  askcd  Chi verni. 

"On  retuming  from  seeing  the  Connétable  at  Melun;  he 
was  going  though  with  the  Duchesse  de  Berri,  whom  he  was 
most  anxious  to  convey  in  safety  to  Savoy,  so  as  to  rcturn 
hère  and  enlighten  the  Chancellor  Olivier,  who  is,  in  fact, 
the  dupe  of  the  Lorraines.  Monsieur  de  l'Hôpital  is  resolved 
to  adhère  to  your  cause,  seeing  the  aims  that  Messieurs  de 
Guise  hâve  in  view.  And  he  will  hastcn  back  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible to  give  you  his  vote  in  the  Council." 

"Is  he  sincère?"  said  Catherine.  "For  you  know  that 
when  the  Lorraines  admitted  him  to  the  Council,  it  was  to 
enable  them  to  rule." 

"L'Hôpital  is  a  Frenchman  of  too  good  a  stock  not  to  be 
honest,"  said  Chiverni  ;  "besides,  that  letter  is  a  sufhcient 
pledge." 

"And  what  answer  does  the  Connétable  send  to  thèse  gen- 
tlemen ?" 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  93 

"Ile  says  the  King  is  his  master,  and  he  awaits  his  orders. 
On  this  reply,  the  Cardinal,  to  prevent  any  résistance,  will 
propose  to  appoint  his  brother  Lieutenant-General  of  the 
realm." 

"So  soon  !"  cried  Catherine  in  dismay.  *^ell,  and  did 
Monsieur  le  l'Hôpital  give  you  any  further  message  for 
me?" 

"He  told  me,  madame,  that  you  alone  can  stand  between 
the  throne  and  Messieurs  de  Guise." 

"But  does  he  suppose  that  I  will  use  the  Huguenots  as  a 
means  of  defcnce?" 

"Oh,  madame,"  cried  Chiverni,  surprised  by  her  per- 
spicacity,  "we  never  thought  of  placing  you  in  such  a  diffi- 
cult  position." 

"Did  he  know  what  a  position  I  am  in?"  asked  the  Queen 
calmly. 

"Pretty  nearly.  He  thinks  you  made  a  dupe's  bargain 
when,  on  the  death  of  the  late  King,  you  accepted  for  your 
share  the  fragments  saved  from  the  ruin  of  Madame  Diane. 
Messieurs  de  Guise  thought  they  had  paid  their  debt  to  the 
Queen  by  gratifying  the  woman." 

"Yes,"  said  Catherine,  looking  at  the  two  Gondis,  "I  made 
a  great  mistake  there." 

"A  mistake  the  gods  might  make  !"  replied  Charles  de 
Gondi. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  Queen,  "if  I  openly  take  up  the 
cause  of  the  Eeformers,  I  shall  be  the  slave  of  a  party." 

"Madame,"  said  Chiverni  eagerly,  "I  entirely  agrée  with. 
you.  You  must  make  use  of  them,  but  not  let  them  make  use 
of  you." 

"Although,  for  the  moment,  your  strength  lies  there,"  said 
Charles  ^e  Gondi,  "we  must  not  deceive  ourselves;  success 
and  failure  are  equally  dangerous  !" 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  Queen.  "(Jne  false  move  will  be  a 
pretext  eagerly  seized  by  the  Guises  to  sweep  me  ofC  the 
board  !" 

"A  Pope's  nièce,  the  mother  of  four  Valois,  the  Queen  of 


•M  AROT'T  ('AlIIKIilNE   Di:'   MKDICI 

Franco,  tho  widow  of  ilic  inost  ardent  prrsccutdr  of  tlu>  ITu- 
gucnots,  an  llalian  ami  a  Catholic,  tlic  aunt,  of  Léo  X., — can 
you  forni  an  alliance  wilh  llie  Koforniation?"  asked  Charles 
de  (londi. 

"On  tlie  other  hand,"  Albert  replied,  "is  not  secondinp  the 
Guises  conscnting  to  usurpation?  You  hâve  to  deal  with  a 
race  that  looks  to  the  struggle  betwcen  the  Church  and  the 
lîeforniation  to  give  them  a  crown  for  the  taking.  You  may 
avail  vourself  of  Huguenot  hclp  without  abjuring  the 
Faith/' 

"Eemembcr,  madame,  that  your  faniily,  which  ought  to 
be  wholly  devotod  to  the  King  of  France,  is  at  tins  moment 
in  the  service  of  the  King  of  Spain,"  said  Chiverni.  "And  it 
would  go  over  to  the  Reformation  to-morrow  if  the  Reforraa- 
tion  could  make  the  Duke  of  Florence  King  !" 

"I  am  very  well  inclincd  to  give  the  Huguenots  a  helping 
hand  for  a  time,"  said  Catherine,  "were  it  only  to  be  re- 
venged  on  that  soldier,  that  priest,  and  that  woman  !" 

And  with  an  Italian  glanée,  her  eye  tumed  on  the  Duke 
and  the  Cardinal,  and  tlicn  to  the  upper  rooms  of  the  château 
■where  her  son  lived  and  Mary  Stuart.  "Those  three  snatchcd 
the  reins  of  government  from  my  hands,"  she  went  on,  "whcn 
I  had  waited  for  them  long  enough  while  that  old  woman 
held  them  in  my  place." 

She  jerked  her  head  in  the  direction  of  Chenonceaux,  the 
château  she  had  just  exchanged  for  Chaumont  with  Diane 
de  Poitiers.  "Ma/'  she  said  in  Italian,  "it  would  seem  that 
thèse  gentry  of  the  Greneva  bands  hâve  not  wit  enough  to 
apply  to  me  ! — On  my  honor,  I  cannot  go  to  meet  them  !  And 
not  one  of  you  would  dare  to  carry  them  a  message."  She 
stamped  her  foot.  "I  hoped  you  might  hâve  met  the  hunch- 
back  at  Écouen,"  she  said  to  Chiverni.     "He  has  brains." 

"He  was  there,  madame,"  replied  Chiverni,  "but  he  could 
not  induce  the  Connétable  to  join  him.  Monsieur  de  Mont- 
morency would  be  glad  enough  to  overthrow  the  Guises,  who 
obtained  his  dismissal;  but  he  will  hâve  nothing  to  do  with 
heresy." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  95 

"And  who,  gentlemen,  is  to  crush  thèse  private  whims  that 
are  an  offence  to  Koyalty  ?  By  Ileaven  !  thèse  nobles  must  be 
made  to  destroy  each  other — as  Louis  XI.  made  them,  the 
greatest  of  your  kings.  In  this  kingdom  there  are  four  or 
five  parties,  and  my  son's  is  the  weakest  of  them  ail." 

"The  Reformation  is  an  idea,"  remarked  Charles  de  Gondi, 
"and  the  parties  crushed  by  Louis  the  Eleventh  were  based 
only  on  interest." 

"There  is  always  an  idea  to  back  up  interest,"  replied 
Chiverni.  "In  Louis  XI.'s  time  the  idea  was  called  the 
Great  Fief  !" 

"Use  heresy  as  an  axe,"  said  Albert  de  Gondi.  "You  will 
not  incur  the  odium  of  exécutions." 

"Ha  !"  said  the  Queen,  "but  I  know  nothing  of  the  strength 
or  the  sehemes  of  thèse  folks,  and  I  eannot  communicate  with 
them  through  any  safe  channel.  If  I  were  found  out  in  any 
such  conspiraey,  either  by  the  Queen,  who  watches  me  as  if 
I  were  an  infant  in  arms,  or  by  my  two  jailers,  who  let  no  one 
come  into  the  château,  I  should  be  banished  from  the  coun- 
try,  and  taken  back  to  Florence  under  a  formidable  escort 
captained  by  some  ruffianly  Guisard  !  Thank  you,  friends  ! — 
Oh,  daughter-in-law  !  I  hope  you  may  some  day  be  a  prisoner 
in  your  own  house;  then  you  will  know  what  you  hâve  in- 
flicted  on  me  !" 

"Their  sehemes  !"  exclaimed  Chiverni.  "The  Grand  Mas- 
ter  and  the  Cardinal  know  them  ;  but  those  two  foxes  will  not 
tell.  If  you,  madame,  can  make  them  tell,  I  will  dévote 
myself  to  you,  and  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  Prince 
de  Condé. 

"Which  of  their  plans  hâve  they  failed  to  conceal  from 
you?"  asked  the  Queen,  glancing  towards  the  brothers  de 
Guise. 

"Monsieur  de  Vieilleville  and  Monsieur  de  Saint-André 
hâve  just  had  their  orders,  of  which  we  know  nothing;  but 
the  Grand  Master  is  concentrating  his  best  troops  on  the 
left  bank,  it  would  seem.  Within  a  few  days  you  will  fînd 
yourself  at  Amboise.    The  Grand  Master  came  to  this  terrace 


H»;  AIKHT  CAIIIKUINK   I>1"    MKDICI 

to  stiuîy  tho  position,  ami  ho  doos  not  think  l^lois  favovahlo 
to  lus  private  schoiiics.  Wcll,  thon,  what  doos  he  waiil  ?" 
saiil  Chivorni,  iiidioalinj^  tho  sl('(>|)  cliiïa  that  surround  Iho 
oliâtoau.  "'riif  Court  could  nowliore  he  safor  from  suddon 
attaok  than  it  is  horo." 

"Ahdicate  or  govcrn,"  said  AlWrt  do  Cuiidi  in  Iho  Quccn's 
ear  as  shc  stood  thinking. 

A  foarful  oxprossion  of  supprossod  rapo  thishcd  across  the 
Quocn's  handsonio  ivory-pale  face. — Sho  was  not  yet  forty, 
and  slio  liad  livod  for  twenty-six  years  in  tho  Fronch  Court, 
ahsohitely  powcrless,  shc,  wlio  cver  since  she  had  corne  there 
liad  longcd  to  ])lny  tlio  loading  part. 

"Xovor  so  long  as  tiiis  son  livos!  Ilis  wife  has  bcwitched 
hini  !*' 

After  a  short  pause  thèse  terrible  words  broke  from  her  in 
tho  language  of  Dante. 

Cathcrine's  exclamation  had  its  inspiration  in  a  strange 
prodiction,  spokcn  a  few  days  bcfore  at  the  Château  of  Chau- 
mont,  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Loire,  whithor  shc  had 
gone  with  her  astrologcr  lîuggieri  to  consult  a  famous  sooth- 
sayer.  This  woman  was  brought  to  mect  her  by  Nostra- 
damus,  the  chief  of  those  physicians  who  in  that  grcat  six- 
teenth  century  believed  in  the  occult  sciences,  with  Ruggieri, 
Cardan,  Paracelsus,  and  many  more.  This  fortune-tcllor,  of 
whose  life  history  has  no  record,  had  fixed  the  reign  of  Fran- 
cis II.  at  one  year's  duration. 

"And  what  is  your  opinion  of  ail  this?"  Catherine  asked 
Chivemi. 

"There  will  be  fighting,"  said  the  cautions  gentleman. 
"The  King  of  Navarre " 

"Oh  !  say  the  Quocn  !"  Catherine  put  in. 

"Yery  true,  the  Queen,"  said  Chiverni,  smiling,  "has  made 
the  Prince  de  Condé  the  chief  of  the  reformed  party;  he,  as 
a  younger  son,  may  dare  much;  and  Monsieur  le  Cardinal 
talks  of  sending  for  him  to  eome  hère." 

"If  only  he  cornes  !"  criod  the  Queen,  "I  am  saved  !" 

So  it  will  be  seen  that  the  leaders  of  the  great  Eeforming 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  97 

movement  had  been  riglit  in  thinking  of  Catherine  as  an 
ally. 

"ïhis  is  the  jest  of  it,"  said  the  Queen;  "the  Bourbons 
are  tricking  the  Huguenots,  and  Master  Calvin,  de  Bèze,  and 
the  rest  are  cheating  the  Bourbons;  but  shall  we  be  strong 
enough  to  take  in  the  Huguenots,  the  Bourbons,  and  the 
Guises  ?  In  front  of  three  such  f oes  we  are  justified  in  feel- 
ing  our  puise,"  said  she. 

"They  hâve  not  the  King,"  replied  Albert.  "You  must 
always  win,  having  the  King  on  your  side." 

"Maladetta  Maria!"  said  Catherine,  between  her  teeth. 

"The  Guises  are  already  thinking  of  diverting  the  affec- 
tions of  the  middle  class,"  said  Birague. 

The  hope  of  snatching  the  Crown  had  not  been  premedi- 
tated  by  the  two  heads  of  the  refractory  House  of  Guise; 
there  was  nothing  to  justify  the  project  or  the  hope;  cir- 
cumstanees  suggested  such  audacity.  The  two  Cardinals  and 
the  two  Balafrés  were,  as  it  happened,  four  ambitious  men, 
superior  in  political  gifts  to  any  of  the  men  about  them. 
Indeed,  the  family  was  only  subdued  at  last  by  Henri  IV., 
himself  a  leader  of  faction,  brought  up  in  the  great  school 
of  which  Catherine  and  the  Guises  were  the  teachers — and  he 
had  profited  by  their  lessons. 

At  this  time  thèse  two  brothers  were  the  arbiters  of  the 
greatest  révolution  attempted  in  Europe  sinee  that  carried 
through  in  England  under  Henry  VIII.,  which  had  resulted 
from  the  invention  of  printing.  They  were  the  enemies  of 
the  Reformation,  the  power  was  in  their  hands,  and  they 
meant  to  stamp  out  heresy;  but  Calvin,  their  opponent, 
though  less  famous  than  Luther,  was  a  stronger  man.  Calvin 
saw  Government  where  Luther  had  only  seen  Dogma.  Where 
the  burly,  beer-drinking,  uxorious  German  fought  with  the 
Devil,  flinging  his  inkstand  at  the  fiend,  the  man  of  Picardy, 
frail  and  unmarried,  dreamed  of  plans  of  campaign,-  of  di- 
recting  battles,  of  arming  princes,  and  of  raising  whole  na- 
tions by  disseminating  republican  doctrines  in  the  hearts  of 


DS  AHOl    l-   CAIMIDUINK    1>I"    MIODH'I 

the  niiddlo  olnssos,  so  as  to  iiiakc  up,  hv  inrroascMl  prof^ross  in 
tho  Spirit  of  Nations,  for  his  constant  dclVats  on  tlie  battle- 
liold. 

Tho  ranlinal  de  Lorraine  and  liir  Duc  {\c  (Juisc  kncw 
quitc  as  wcll  as  IMiilip  11.  and  ilic  Dnke  ol"  Alva  whoro  the 
Miniarchy  was  aiincd  al.  and  liow  close  tho  connection  wiis 
boiwocn  C'atholicisni  and  sovcrci,<,Mity.  Charlos  V.,  intoxi- 
catcd  witii  having  drnid<  too  di'c])ly  of  Charleniagne's  cup, 
and  trust ing  too  niucli  in  tho  strcngth  of  liis  rnlo,  for  he 
believed  tlia*  Ik^  and  Soliman  niiirhi  dividc  llic  woi'ld  between 
thcni,  was  not  at  lirst  conscious  that  his  Iront  was  attackcd; 
as  soon  as  Cardinal  Cranvollc  showed  hiin  the  extent  of  the 
fcstering  sore,  hc  abdicated. 

The  Guises  had  a  startling  conception;  they  would  extin- 
guish  heresy  with  a  single  blow.  They  tried  to  strike  that 
blow  for  the  first  time  at  Amboise,  and  they  made  a  second 
attenipt  on  Saint-Bartholomew's  Day;  this  time  they  were  in 
accord  with  Catherine  de'  Medici,  enlightened  as  she  was 
by  the  fiâmes  of  twclve  years'  wars,  and  yet  more  by  the 
ominous  word  "Kepublic"'  spoken  and  even  published  at  a 
later  date  by  the  writers  of  the  Reformation,  whose  ideas 
Lecamus,  the  typical  citizen  of  Paris,  had  already  under- 
stood.  The  two  Princes,  on  the  evc  of  striking  a  fatal  blow 
to  the  heart  of  the  nobility,  in  order  to  eut  it  ofï  from  the  first 
from  a  religious  party  whose  triumph  would  be  its  ruin,  were 
now  discussing  the  means  of  announcing  their  Coup  d'État 
to  the  King,  while  Catherine  was  conversing  with  her  four 
eounselors. 

"Jeanne  d'Albret  knew  what  she  was  doing  when  she  pro- 
claimed  herself  the  protectress  of  the  Huguenots  !  She  has 
in  the  Eeformation  a  battering-ram  which  she  makes  good 
play  with!"  said  the  Grand  Master,  who  had  measured  the 
depth  of  the  Queen  of  Navarre's  scheming. 

Jeanne  d'Albret  was,  in  point  of  fact,  one  of  the  cleverest 
personages  of  her  time. 

"Théodore  de  Bèze  is  at  Nérac,  having  taken  Calvin's 
orders." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  99 

"What  men  those  common  folk  can  lay  their  hands  on!" 
cried  tlie  Duke. 

"Ay,  we  hâve  not  a  man  on  our  side  to  match  that  fellow 
la  Renaudie,"  said  the  Cardinal.    "Ile  is  a  perfect  Catiline." 

'"Men  like  him  ahvays  act  on  their  own  account,"  replied 
the  Duke.  "Did  not  I  se?  la  Renaudie's  value?  I  loaded 
him  with  favors,  I  helped  him  to  get  away  when  he  was  con- 
demned  by  the  Bourgogne  Parlement,  I  got  him  back  into 
France  by  obtaining  a  revision  of  his  trial,  and  I  intended 
to  do  ail  I  could  for  him,  while  he  was  plotting  a  diabolical 
conspiracy  against  us.  The  rascal  bas  efïected  an  alliance 
between  the  German  Protestants  and  the  heretics  in  France 
by  smoothing  over  the  discrepancies  of  dogma  between  Luther 
and  Calvin.  He  bas  won  over  the  disafïected  nobles  to  the 
cause  of  the  Reforraation  without  asking  them  to  abjure 
Catholicism.  So  long  ago  as  last  year  he  had  thirty  com- 
manders  on  his  side  !  He  was  everywhere  at  once  :  at  Lyons, 
in  Languedoc,  at  Nantes.  Finally,  he  drew  up  the  Articles 
settled  in  Council  and  distributed  throughout  Germany,  in 
which  theologians  déclare  that  it  is  justifiable  to  use  force 
to  get  the  King  out  of  our  hands,  and  this  is  being  dissemi- 
nated  in  every  town.  Look  for  him  where  you  will,  you  will 
nowhere  find  him  ! 

"Hitherto  I  hâve  shown  him  nothing  but  kindness  !  We 
shall  bave  to  kill  him  like  a  dog,  or  to  make  a  bridge  of  gold 
for  him  to  cross  and  come  into  our  house." 

"Brittany  and  Languedoc,  the  whole  kingdom  indeed,  is 
being  worked  upon  to  give  us  a  deadly  shock,"  said  the  Car- 
dinal. "After  yesterday's  festival,  I  spent  the  rest  of  the 
night  in  reading  ail  the  information  sent  me  by  my  priest- 
hood  ;  but  no  one  is  involved  but  some  impoverished  gentle- 
men and  artisans,  people  who  may  be  either  hanged  or  left 
alive,  it  matters  not  which.  The  Colignys  and  the  Condés 
are  not  yet  visible,  though  they  hold  the  threads  of  the  con- 
spiracy." 

"Ay,"  said  the  Duke;  "and  as  soon  as  that  lawyer  Ave- 
nelles  had  let  the  cat  out  of  the  bag,  I  told  Braguelonne  to 


100  AHOUr  (Al'lIHUlNK   DIO'   MIODICI 

giw  ihc  foiispirators  thoir  lictul  :  thoy  hâve  no  suspicions, 
thoy  lliink  tlu'y  can  sur])risc  us,  and  thcn  pcrliaps  the  leaders 
will  show  theuiselves.  My  adviec  wouhl  be  Ihat  we  should 
allow  ourselves  lo  Ix^  beaten  l'or  forly-ei^hi  hours " 

"That  would  be  half-an-hour  too  long,"  said  the  Cardinal 
in  aJarni. 

"Uow  brave  you  arc!"  retorted  la  Balafrô. 

Tho  Cardinal  went  on  with  calni  indill'erence: 

'•\Vhether  the  Prince  do  Condé  bo  iniplicated  or  no,  if  we 
are  assured  that  he  is  the  leader,  eut  ofT  iiis  head.  What  we 
want  for  that  business  is  judges  ratlicr  than  soldiers,  and 
there  will  ncver  be  any  lack  of  judges!  Victory  in  the 
Suprême  Court  is  ahvays  more  certain  than  on  the  field  of 
battle,  and  costs  Icss." 

'"l  am  quite  willing,"  replied  tlie  Duke.  "But  do  you  be- 
lieve  that  the  Prince  de  Condé  is  powerful  enough  to  inspire 
such  audacity  in  those  who  are  sent  on  fîrst  to  attack  us  ?  Is 
there  not ?" 

"The  King  of  Navarre,"  said  the  Cardinal. 

"A  gaby  who  bows  low  in  my  présence,"  replied  the  Duke. 
"That  Florentine  woman's  grâces  hâve  blinded  you,  I 
think " 

"Oh,  I  hâve  thought  of  that  already,"  said  the  prelate. 
"If  I  aim  at  a  gallant  intimacy  with  her,  is  it  not  that  I  may 
read  to  the  bottom  of  her  heart  ?" 

"She  has  no  heart,"  said  his  brother  sharply.  "She  is  even 
more  ambitious  than  we  are." 

"You  are  a  brave  commander,"  said  the  Cardinal;  "but 
take  my  word  for  it,  our  skirts  are  very  near  touching,  and 
I  made  Mary  Stuart  watch  her  narrowly  before  you  ever  sus- 
pected  her.  Catherine  has  no  more  religion  in  her  than  my 
shoe.  If  she  is  not  the  soûl  of  tho  conspiracy,  it  is  not  for 
lack  of  goodwill  ;  but  we  will  draw  her  out  and  see  how  far 
she  will  support  us.  Till  now  I  know  for  certain  that  she 
has  not  held  any  communication  with  the  heretics." 

"It  i?  timo  that  we  should  lay  everything  before  the  King, 
and  the  Queen-mother,  who  knows  nothing,"  said  the  Duko, 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  101 

*'aiid  that  is  the  only  proof  of  lier  innocence.  La  Renaudie 
will  understand  from  my  arrangements  that  we  are  warned. 
Last  night  Xemours  must  hâve  been  following  up  the  detach- 
nients  of  the  Reformed  party,  who  were  coming  in  by  the 
cross-roads,  and  the  conspirators  will  be  eompelled  to  attack 
us  at  Amboise  ;  I  will  let  them  ail  in. — Hère,"  and  he  pointed 
to  the  three  steep  slopes  of  rock  on  wliich  the  Château  de 
Blois  is  built,  just  as  Chiverni  had  done  a  moment  since, 
"we  sliould  hâve  a  fight  with  no  resuit  ;  the  Huguenots  could 
corne  and  go  at  will.  Blois  is  a  hall  with  four  doors,  while 
Amboise  is  a  saek." 

"I  will  not  leave  the  Florentine  Queen,"  said  the  Cardinal. 

"We  hâve  made  one  mistake,"  remarked  the  Duke,  playing 
with  his  dagger,  tossing  it  in  the  air,  and  catching  it  again 
by  the  handle;  "we  ought  to  hâve  behaved  to  her  as  to  the 
Reformers,  giving  her  liberty  to  move,  so  as  to  take  her  in 
the  act." 

The  Cardinal  looked  at  his  brother  for  a  minute,  shaking 
his  head. 

"What  does  Pardaillan  want  ?"  the  Duke  exclaimed,  seeing 
this  young  gentleman  coming  along  the  terrace.  Pardaillan 
was  to  become  f amous  for  his  fight  with  la  Renaudie,  in  which 
both  were  killed. 

"Monseigneur,  a  youth  sent  hère  by  the  Queen's  furrier 
is  at  the  gâte,  and  says  that  he  has  a  set  of  ermine  to  deliver 
to  Her  Majesty.    Is  he  to  be  admitted  ?" 

"To  be  sure  ;  an  ermine  surcoat  she  spoke  of  but  yesterday," 
said  the  Cardinal.  "Let  the  shop-clerk  in.  She  will  need 
the  mantle  for  her  joumey  by  the  Loire." 

"Which  way  did  he  corne,  that  he  was  not  stopped  before 
reaching  the  gâte  ?"  asked  the  Grand  Master. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Pardaillan. 

"I  will  go  to  see  him  in  the  Queen's  rooms,"  said  la  Balafré. 
"Tell  him  to  await  her  lever  in  the  guard-room.  But,  Par- 
daillan, is  he  young?" 

"Yes,  Monseigneur;  he  says  he  is  Lecamus'  son." 

"Lecamus  is  a  good  Catholic,"  said  the  Cardinal,  who,  like 


102  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

thc  Duke,  was  «^ifted  with  a  inoiiiory  likc  Oiusar's.  "The 
priest  of  Saint-riorrc  aux  Bœufs  trusts  liiin,  for  he  is  oflicer 
of  thc  peace  (or  tlu'  ralacc." 

"Ma]<e  this  youth  chat  with  the  Captain  of  thc  Scotch 
Guard.  ail  tiie  saïuo."  said  the  Orand  Mastcr,  with  an  em- 
pha^is  which  gave  thc  words  a  vory  i)ointed  ineaning.  "But 
Anibroiso  is  at  the  château;  through  him  we  shall  know  at 
once  if  he  realiy  is  the  son  of  Lecamus,  who  was  formerly 
his  very  good  friend.     Ask   for  Anibroise  Paré." 

At  this  moment  the  Queen  came  towards  thc  brothers,  who 
hurried  to  nieet  lier  with  marks  of  respect,  in  which  Catherine 
nover  failed  to  discem  deep  irony. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  she,  "will  you  condescend  to  inform  me 
of  what  is  going  on?  Is  the  widow  of  yoiir  late  sovereign 
of  less  account  in  your  esteem  than  Messieurs  de  Vieilleville, 
Birague,  and  Chivemi?" 

"Madame,"  said  the  Cardinal,  with  an  air  of  gallantry, 
"our  first  duty  as  men,  before  ail  matters  of  politics,  is  not 
to  alarm  ladies  by  false  rumors.  This  morning,  indeed,  we 
hâve  had.  occasion  to  confer  on  State  affairs.  You  will  pardon 
my  brother  for  having  in  the  first  instance  given  orders  on 
purely  military  matters  which  must  be  indiffèrent  to  you — 
the  realiy  important  points  remain  to  be  discussed.  If  you 
approve,  we  will  ail  attend  the  lever  of  the  King  and  Queen  ; 
it  is  close  on  the  hour." 

"Why,  what  is  happening.  Monsieur  le  Grand  Maître?" 
asked  Catherine,  affecting  terror. 

"The  Reformation,  madame,  is  no  longer  a  mère  heresy; 
it  is  a  party  which  is  about  to  take  up  arms  and  seize  the 
King" 

Catherine,  with  the  Cardinal,  the  Duke,  and  the  gentlemen, 
made  their  way  towards  the  staircase  by  the  corridor,  which 
was  crowded  with  courtiers  who  had  not  the  right  of  entrée, 
and  who  ranged  themselves  against  the  wall. 

Gondi,  who  had  been  studying  the  Princes  of  Lorraine 
while  Catherine  was  conversing  with  them,  said  in  good  Tus- 
can  and  in  Gatherine's  ear  thèse  two  words,  which  became 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  103 

bywords,  and  which  express  one  aspect  of  that  royally  power- 
ful  nature  : 

"Odiate  e  aspettate!"    Hâte  and  wait. 

Pardaillan,  who  had  delivercd  to  the  officer  on  guard  at 
the  gatehouse  the  order  to  admit  the  messenger  from  the 
Queen's  furrier,  found  Christophe  standing  outside  the 
portico  and  staring  at  the  façade  built  by  good  King  Louis 
XII.,  whereon  there  was  at  that  time  an  even  more  numerous 
array  of  sculpturcd  figures  of  the  coarsest  buffoonery — if  we 
may  judge  by  what  has  survived.  The  curiouB  will  detect, 
for  instance,  a  figure  of  a  woman  carved  on  the  capital  of 
one  of  the  columns  of  the  gateway  holding  up  her  skirts,  and 
saucily  exhibiting  "what  Brunel  displayed  to  Marphise"  to  a 
burly  monk  crouching  in  the  capital  of  the  corresponding 
column  at  the  other  jamb  of  this  gâte,  above  which  once  stood. 
a  statue  of  Louis  XII.  Several  of  the  Windows  of  this  front, 
ornamented  in  this  grotesque  taste,  and  now  unfortunately 
destroyed,  amused,  or  seemed  to  amuse,  Christophe,  whom  the 
gunners  of  the  Guard  were  already  pelting  with  their  pleas- 
antries. 

"He  would  like  to  be  lodged  there,  he  would,"  said  the 
sergeant-at-arms,  patting  bis  store  of  charges  for  bis  musket, 
which  hung  from  bis  belt  in  the  sugar-loaf-shaped  cartridges. 

"Hallo,  you  from  Paris,  you  never  saw  so  much  before  !" 
said  a  soldier. 

"He  recognizes  good  King  Louis  !"  said  another. 

Christophe  afîected  not  to  bear  them,  and  tried  to  look 
even  more  helplessly  amazed,  so  that  bis  look  of  blank 
stupidity  was  an  excellent  recommendation  to  Pardaillan. 

"The  Queen  is  not  yet  risen,"  said  the  young  officer. 
"Corne  and  wait  in  the  guardroom." 

Christophe  slowly  followed  Pardaillan.  He  purposely  lin- 
gered  to  admire  the  pretty  covered  balcony  with  an  arched 
front,  wbere,  in  the  reign  of  Louis  XII.,  the  courtiers  could 
wait  under  cover  till  the  hour  of  réception  if  the  weather 
was  bad,  and  where  at  this  moment  some  of  the  gentlemen 
attached  to  the  Guises  were  grouped  ;  for  the  staircase,  still 


lU-l  ABUll'  ('A'IIIIMMNl':   Dir   MfOlUOI 

80  wt'll  |iros(>rv(Ml,  wliit'l»  Icd  io  tlicir  iipaidnciits  is  nt  \ho  ond 
of  tFiat  _<;all(M-v.  in  m  lowor  of  wliich  th(>  a rclii lecture  is 
greatly  admirt'il   hy   llu'  curions. 

"Now.  (lieu  !  havc  you  comc  hcrc  (o  stndy  praven  images?'*, 
cricd  r.irilaillan,  seoing  Lccainiis  rivctcd  in  front  of  the 
elognnl  slonowork  of  tlie  outor  parapet  wliich  unités — or, 
if  you  will.  séparâtes— llie  eolumns  of  eaeh  arelnvay. 

Christoplio  followed  the  young  eajitain  to  tlie  grand  stair- 
case,  Tiot  without  glancing  at  ihis  almost  Moorish-looking 
structure  from  top  to  bottoTu  willi  an  expression  of  ecstasy., 
On  tliis  fine  morning  the  court  was  full  of  captains-at-arms 
and  of  courtiers  cliatting  in  groups;  and  iheir  brilliant  cos- 
tumes gave  life  to  llie  scène,  in  itself  so  l)riglit,  for  tlio  mar- 
vels  of  architecture  tliat  decorated  the  façade  were  still  quite 
new. 

"Come  in  hère,"  said  Pardaillan  to  Lecamus,  signing  to 
him  to  follow  him  through  tlio  carved  door  on  the  second 
floor,  which  was  thrown  opon  by  a  sentry  on  his  recognizing 
Pardaillan. 

Christophe's  amazemcnt  may  easily  bo  imagined  on  enter- 
ing  this  guardroom,  so  vast,  that  the  military  genius  of  our 
day  has  cnt  it  across  by  a  partition  to  form  two  rooms.  It 
extends,  in  fact,  both  on  the  second  floor,  where  the  King 
lived,  and  on  the  first,  occupied  by  the  Qucen-mother,  for  a 
third  of  the  length  of  the  front  towards  the  court,  and  is 
lighted  by  two  Windows  to  the  left  and  two  to  the  right  of 
the  famous  staircase.  The  young  captain  made  his  way  to- 
ward  the  door  leading  to  the  King's  room,  which  oponed 
ont  of  this  hall,  and  desired  ono  of  the  pages-in-waiting  to 
tell  Madame  Dayelle,  ono  of  the  Queen's  ladies,  that  the  fur- 
rier  was  in  the  guardroom  with  her  surcoats. 

At  a  sign  from  Pardaillan,  Christophe  went  to  stand  by  the 
side  of  an  offîcer  seated  on  a  low  stool  in  the  corner  of  a  chim- 
ney-place  as  large  as  his  father's  shop,  at  one  end  of  this  vast 
hall  opposite  another  exactly  like  it  at  the  other  end.  In 
talking  with  this  gentleman,  Christophe  succeeded  in  in- 
teresting  him  by  telling  him  the  trivial  détails  of  his  trade; 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  105 

and  he  seemed  so  completely  the  craftsman,  that  the  officer 
volunteered  this  opinion  to  the  captain  of  the  Scotch  Guard, 
who  came  in  to  cross-question  the  lad  while  scrutinizing  him 
closely  ont  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

Though  Christophe  Leeamus  had  had  ample  warning,  he 
still  did  not  undcrstand  the  cold  ferocity  of  the  interested 
parties  betwcen  whom  Chaudicu  had  bid  him  stand.  To  an 
observer  who  shoiild  havo  mastered  the  secrets  of  the  drama, 
as  the  historian  knows  them  now,  it  would  hâve  seemed 
terrible  to  see  this  young  fellow,  the  hope  of  two  families, 
risking  his  life  between  two  such  powerfnl  and  pitiless  ma- 
chines as  Catherine  and  the  Guises.  But  how  few  brave 
hearts  ever  know  the  extent  of  their  danger  !  From  the  way 
in  which  the  quays  of  the  city  and  the  château  were  guarded, 
Christophe  had  expected  to  find  snares  and  spies  at  every 
step,  so  he  determined  to  conceal  the  importance  of  his  errand 
and  the  agitation  of  his  mind  under  the  stupid  tradesman's 
stare,  which  he  had  put  on  before  Pardaillan,  the  officer  of 
the  Guard,  and  the  captain. 

The  stir  which  in  a  royal  résidence  attends  the  rising  of 
the  King  began  to  be  perceptible.  The  nobles,  leaving  their 
horses  with  their  pages  or  grooms  in  the  outer  court,  for  no 
one  but  the  King  and  Queen  was  allowed  to  enter  the  inner 
court  on  horsebaek,  were  mounting  the  splendid  stairs  in  twos 
and  threes  and  filling  the  guardroom,  a  large  room  with  two 
fireplaces — where  the  huge  mantels  are  now  bereft  of  adom- 
ment,  where  squalid  red  tiles  hâve  taken  the  place  of  the 
fine  mosaic  flooring,  where  royal  hangings  covered  the  rough 
walls  now  daul^ed  with  whitewash,  and  where  every  art  of  an 
âge  unique  in  its  splendor  was  displayed  at  its  best. 

Catholics  and  Protestants  poured  in  as  much  to  hear  the 
news  and  study  each  other's  faces  as  to  pay  their  court  to 
the  King.  Ilis  passionate  affection  for  Mary  Stuart,  which 
neither  the  Queen-mother  nor  the  Guises  attempted  to  check, 
and  Mary 's  politic  submissiveness  in  yielding  to  it,  deprived 
the  King  of  ail  powcr  ;  indeed,  though  he  was  now  seventeen, 
he  knew  nothing  of  Koyalty  but  its  indulgences,  and  of  mar- 


106  ABOUT  CATHEIMNE  1>E'   MEDICI 

riage  notliing  but  the  ruptures  of  first  love.  In  point  of  fact, 
everybody  tried  to  ingratinte  hiinself  willi  Queen  ^lary  and 
hcr  uncles,  the  Cardinal  de  Ivonaiiu'  and  the  C!rand  Master 
of  the  IlousehoUl. 

Ail  tins  bustle  weiit  on  iiiulcr  the  cycs  of  Chrisloplu',  who 
watehed  each  fresh  arrivai  wilh  verv  nntiiral  exeiteuient.  A 
magnifieent  eurtain.  on  eaeh  side  ol'  il  a  ])a;;e  and  a  yeonian 
of  the  Scoteh  Cuard  then  on  duty,  siiowed  iùni  tiie  entrance 
to  tliat  royal  chaniber,  destined  to  he  fatal  to  the  son  of  the 
Grand  Master,  for  the  younger  lialafré  fell  dead  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed  now  occupied  by  Alary  Stuart  and  Francis  II. 
The  Queen 's  ladies  occupied  the  chininey-place  opposite  to 
that  where  Christophe  was  still  chatting  with  the  captain  of 
the  Guard.  Tliis  fireplacc,  by  its  position,  was  the  seat  of 
honor,  for  it  is  built  into  the  thick  wall  of  the  council-room, 
betweeu  the  door  into  the  royal  chamber  and  that  into  the 
council-rooni,  so  that  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  had  a 
right  to  sit  there  were  close  to  where  the  King  and  the 
Queens  must  pass.  The  courtiers  were  certain  to  see  Cath- 
erine; for  her  maids  of  honor,  in  mourning,  like  the  rest  of 
the  Court,  came  up  from  her  rooms  conducted  by  the  Count- 
ess  Fieschi,  and  took  their  place  on  the  side  next  the  council- 
room,  facing  those  of  the  young  Queen,  who,  led  by  the  Duch- 
esse de  Guise,  took  the  opposite  angle  next  the  royal  bed- 
chamber. 

Betwecn  the  courtiers  and  the  young  ladies,  ail  belonging 
to  the  first  families  in  the  kingdom,  a  space  was  kept  of  some 
few  paces,  which  none  but  the  greatest  nobles  were  permitted 
to  cross.  The  Countess  Fieschi  and  the  Duchesse  de  Guise 
were  allowed  by  right  of  office  to  be  seatcd  in  the  midst  of 
their  noble  charges,  who  ail  remaincd  standing. 

One  of  the  first  to  minglo  with  thèse  dangerous  bevies 
was  the  Duc  de  Orléans,  the  King's  brother,  who  came  down 
from  his  rooms  above,  attended  by  his  tutor.  Monsieur  de 
Cypierre.  This  young  Prince,  who  was  destined  to  reign  be- 
fore  the  end  of  the  year,  under  the  name  of  Charles  IX., 
at  the  âge  of  ten  was  excessively  shy.    The  Duc  d'Anjou  and 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  107 

the  Duc  d'Alençon,  his  two  brothers,  and  tlie  infant  Princess 
Marguerite,  who  became  the  wife  of  Henri  IV.,  were  etill 
too  young  to  appear  at  Court,  and  remained  in  their  mother's 
apartments.  The  Duc  d'Orléans,  richly  dressed  in  the  f  ashion 
of  the  time,  in  silk  trunk  hose,  a  doublet  of  cloth  of  gold, 
brocaded  with  flowers  in  bla'ck,  and  a  short  cloak  of  em- 
broidered  velvet,  ail  black,  for  lie  was  still  in  mourning  for 
the  late  King  his  father,  bowed  to  the  two  elder  ladies,  and 
joined  the  group  of  his  mother's  maids  of  honor.  Strongly 
disliking  the  Guisards  (the  adhérents  of  the  Guises),  he  re- 
plied  coldly  to  the  Duchess'  greeting,  and  went  to  lean  his 
elbow  on  the  back  of  the  Countess  Fieschi's  tall  chair. 

His  tutor.  Monsieur  de  Cypierre,  one  of  the  finest  char- 
acters  of  that  âge,  stood  behind  him  as  a  shield.  Amyot, 
in  a  simple  abbé's  gown,  also  attended  the  Prince;  he  was 
his  instructor  as  well  as  being  the  teacher  of  the  three  other 
royal  children,  whose  favor  was  afterwards  so  advantageous 
to  him. 

Between  this  chimney-place  "of  honor"  and  that  at  the 
further  end  of  the  hall — where  the  Guards  stood  in  groups 
with  their  captain,  a  few  courtiers,  and  Christophe  carrying 
his  box — the  Chancellor  Olivier,  l'Hôpital's  patron  and  prede- 
cessor,  in  the  costume  worn  ever  since  by  the  Chancellors 
of  France,  was  walking  to  and  fro  with  Cardinal  de  Tour- 
non,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Rome,  and  with  whom  he 
exchanged  a  few  phrases  in  murmurs.  On  them  was  centered 
the  gênerai  attention  of  the  gentlemen  packed  against  the 
wall  dividing  the  hall  from  the  King's  bedroom,  standing 
like  a  living  tapestry  against  the  rich  figured  hangings.  In 
spite  of  the  serious  state  of  affairs,  the  Court  presented  the 
same  appearance  as  every  Court  must,  in  every  country, 
at  every  time,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  périls.  Cour- 
tiers always  talk  of  the  most  trivial  subjects  while  thinking 
of  the  gravest,  jesting  while  watching  every  phvsiognomy, 
and  considering  questions  of  love  and  marriage  with  heiresses 
in  the  midst  of  the  most  sanguinary  catastrophes. 

"What  did  you  think  of  yesterday's  fête?"  asked  Bour- 


lOS  ABOUT  CATIIEUINE   PF/   MIOIUCI 

(k'illos,   tlu'    Lt»ril  <>f    nnuitùmc,  ^^>iii^^   iij)   to    MaïkMiioisolle 
de  PioniK's,  ono  of  tlic  rhlcr  (,)u('('irs  maids  of  honor. 

"Monsieur  du  Baïf  aiul  Miui-inir  du  Ucllay  had  had  llie 
most  ehariiiinij;  ideas,"  said  slu\  [Hiintiii.ix  lo  llic  Iwo  gentle- 
men who  had  arraiiged  every(liii)«r,  and  wlio  were  standing 
rlose  at  hand.  "I  Ihonglil  il  in  atrocious  laste,"  she  addcd  in 
u  whisper. 

"You  liad  no  part  in  it?"  siiid  Miss  Lewiston  from  the 
other  side. 

"What  are  you  reading,  madame?"  said  Amyot  to  Madame 
Fieschi. 

"Amadis  de  Gaule,  l)y  the  Seigneur  des  Essarts,  purveyor- 
in-ordinary  to  the  King's  Artillery." 

"A  dclightful  work,"  said  the  handsome  girl,  who  became 
famous  as  hi  Fosseuse,  when.  she  was  lady-in-waiting  to 
Qucen  Margaret  of  Navarre. 

"The  style  is  qnite  new,"  remarked  Amyot.  "Shall  you 
adopt  such  barbarisms?"  he  asked,  turning  to  Brantôme. 

*'The  ladies  like  it  !  What  is  to  be  said?"  cried  Bran- 
tôme, going  forward  to  bow  to  Madame  de  Guise,  who  had  in 
her  hand  Boccaccio's  Famous  Ladies.  "Thcre  must  be  some 
ladies  of  your  House  there,  madame,"  said  he.  "But  Master 
Boccaccio's  mistake  was  that  he  did  not  live  in  thèse  days; 
he  would  hâve  found  ample  matter  to  enlarge  bis  volumes." 

"How  élever  Monsieur  de  Brantôme  is  !"  said  the  beautiful 
Mademoiselle  de  Limeuil  to  the  Countess  Fieschi.  "He  came 
first  to  us,  but  he  will  stay  with  the  Guises." 

"Hush!"  said  Madame  Fieschi,  looking  at  the  fair 
Limeuil.     "Attend  to  what  concerns  you " 

The  young  lady  turnod  to  the  door.  She  was  expecting 
Sardini,  an  Italian  nobleman,  who  subsequently  made  him 
marn-  her  aftor  a  little  accident  that  overtook  her  in  the 
Queen's  dressing-room,  and  which  procured  her  the  honor 
of  having  a  quecn  for  her  midwife. 

"By  Saint  Alipantin,  Mademoiselle  Davila  seems  to  grow 
prettier  every  morning,"  said  Monsieur  de  Robertet,  Secre- 
tary  of  State,  as  he  bowcd  to  the  Queen-mother's  ladies. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  109 

The  advent  of  the  Secretar}^  of  State,  though  he  was  ex- 
actly  as  important  as  a  Cabinet  Minister  in  thèse  days,  made 
no  sensation  whatever. 

"If  you  think  that,  monsieur,  do  lend  me  the  epigram 
against  Messieurs  de  Guise  ;  I  know  you  hâve  it,"  said  Made- 
moiselle Davila  to  Eobertet. 

"I  hâve  it  no  longer,"  replied  the  Secretary,  going  across 
to  speak  to  Madame  de  Guise. 

"I  hâve  it,"  said  the  Comte  de  Grammont  to  Mademoiselle 
Davila;  "but  I  will  lend  it  you  on  only  one  condition." 

"On  condition ?     For  shame  !"  said  Madame  Fieschi. 

"You  do  not  know  what  I  want,"  replied  Grammont. 

"Oh,  that  is  easy  to  guess,"  said  la  Limeuil. 

The  Italian  custom  of  calling  ladies,  as  French  peasants 
call  their  wives,  la  Such-an-one,  was  at  that  time  the  fashion 
at  the  Court  of  France. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  the  Count  replied  eagerly;  "what  I 
ask  is,  that  a  letter  should  be  delivered  to  Mademoiselle  de 
Matha,  one  of  the  maids  on  the  other  side — a  letter  from 
my  cousin  de  Jarnac." 

"Do  not  compromise  my  maids  ;  I  will  give  it  her  myself," 
said  the  Countess  Fieschi.  "Hâve  you  heard  any  news  of 
what  is  going  on  in  Flanders?"  she  asked  Cardinal  de  Tour- 
non.  "Monsieur  d'Egmont  is  at  some  new  pranks,  it  would 
seem." 

"He  and  the  Prince  of  Orange,"  said  Cypierre,  with.  a 
highly  expressive  shrug. 

"The  Duke  of  Alva  and  Cardinal  de  Granvelle  are  going 
there,  are  they  not,  monsieur?"  asked  Amyot  of  Cardinal 
de  Tournon,  who  stood,  uneasy  and  gloomy,  betwcen  the 
two  groups  after  his  conversation  with  the  Chancellor. 

'^Ve,  happily,  are  quiet,  and  hâve  to  defy  heresy  only  on  the 
stage,"  said  the  young  Duke,  alluding  to  the  part  he  had 
played  the  day  before,  that  of  a  Knight  subduing  a  Hydra 
with  the  Word  "Reformation"  on  its  brow. 

Catherine  de'  Medici,  agreeing  on  this  point  with  her 
daughter-in-law,  had   allowed   a  théâtre  to  be   constructed. 


110  AHOl'T  CATllllKlNK    Dir   MEDICI 

in  the  groat  hall,  wliich  was  subsocjuontly  usod  for  the  meet- 
ings of  the  States  at  Blois,  the  hall  between  the  buildings 
of  Louis  XII.  and  thoso  of  l'i-ancis  I. 

TIk'  Cardinal  jnade  nu  ivply,  and  rcsunied  lus  walk  in  the 
niiddle  of  the  hall,  talUing  in  a  low  voice  to  Monsieur  de 
Kobertet  and  the  Chancellor.  Many  persons  kuow  nothing 
of  the  didiculties  tliat  Secretaryshij)s  of  State,  now  trans- 
fonned  into  Cabinet  Ministries,  met  with  in  the  eourse  of 
their  establishment,  and  how  hard  the  Kings  of  France 
found  it  to  create  them.  At  that  period  a  Secretary  like 
Kobertet  was  merely  a  clerk,  of  hardly  any  account  among 
the  princes  and  magnâtes  who  settled  the  affairs  of  State. 
There  were  at  that  time  no  ministerial  functionaries  but  the 
Superintendcnt  of  Finance,  the  Chancellor,  and  tho  Kcoper 
of  the  King's  Seals.  The  King  granted  a  seat  in  the  Council, 
by  letters  patent,  to  such  of  his  subjects  as  might,  in  his 
opinion,  give  useful  advice  in  the  conduct  of  public  atîairs. 
A  seat  in  the  Council  might  be  given  to  a  président  of  a  law 
court  in  the  Parlement,  to  a  bishop,  to  an  untitled  favorite. 
Once  admitted  to  the  Council,  the  subject  strengthencd  his 
position  by  getting  himself  appointed  to  one  of  the  Crown 
offices  to  which  a  salary  was  attached — the  government  of  a 
province,  a  constable's  sword,  a  marshal's  bâton,  the  com- 
mand  of  the  Artillerj^,  the  post  of  High  Admirai,  the  colo- 
nel cy  of  some  milita ry  corps,  the  captaincy  of  the  galleys — or 
often  some  function  at  Court,  such  as  that  of  Grand  Master  of 
the  Household,  then  held  by  the  Duc  de  Guise. 

"Do  you  believe  that  the  Duc  de  Nemours  will  marry 
Françoise?"  asked  Madame  de  Guise  of  the  Duc  d'Orléans' 
instructor. 

"Indeed,  madame,  I  know  nothing  but  Latin,"  was  the 
reply. 

This  made  those  smile  who  were  near  enough  to  hear  it. 
Just  then  the  séduction  of  Françoise  de  Rohan  by  the  Duc 
de  Xemours  was  the  thème  of  every  conversation  ;  but  as  the 
Duc  do  Xemours  was  cousin  to  the  l^ing,  and  also  allied 
to  the  House  of  Valois  through  his  mother,  the  Guises  re- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  111 

garded  him  as  seduced  rather  than  as  a  seducer.  The  in- 
fluence of  the  House  of  Rohan  was,  however,  so  great,  that 
after  Francis  II. 's  death  the  Due  de  Nemours  was  obliged  to 
quit  France  in  conséquence  of  the  lawsuit  brought  against 
him  by  the  Rohans,  which  was  compromised  by  the  offices 
of  the  Guises.  His  marriage  to  the  Duchesse  de  Guise, 
after  Poltrot's  assassination,  may  account  for  the  Duchess' 
question  to  Amyot,  by  explaining  some  rivalry,  no  doubt, 
between  her  and  Mademoiselle  de  Rohan. 

"Look,  pray,  at  that  party  of  malcontents,"  said  the  Comte 
de  Grammont,  pointing  to  Messieurs  de  Coligny,  Cardinal  de 
Châtillon,  Danville,  Thoré,  Moret,  and  several  other  gentle- 
men suspectcd  of  meddling  in  the  Reformation,  who  were 
standing  ail  together  between  two  Windows  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  hall. 

"The  Huguenots  are  on  the  move,"  said  Cypierre.  "We 
know  that  Théodore  de  Bèze  is  at  ISTérac  to  persuade  the 
Queen  of  Navarre  to  déclare  herself  on  their  side  by  publicly 
renouncing  the  Catholic  faith,"  he  added,  with  a  glance  at 
the  Bailli  d'Orléans,  who  was  Chancelier  to  the  Queen  of 
Navarre,  and  a  keen  observer  of  the  Court. 

"She  will  do  it,"  said  the  Bailli  d'Orléans  drily. 

This  personage,  the  Jacques  Cœur  of  his  day,  and  one  of 
the  richest  middle-class  men  of  his  time,  was  named  Groslot, 
and  was  envoy  from  Jeanne  d'Albret  to  the  French  Court. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  the  Chancellor  of  France  to  the 
Chancellor  of  Navarre,  quite  understanding  the  full  import 
of  Groslot's  remark. 

"Don't  you  know,"  said  the  rich  provincial,  "that  the 
Queen  of  Navarre  bas  nothing  of  the  woman  in  her  but  her 
sex?  She  is  devoted  to  none  but  manly  things;  her  mind 
is  strong  in  important  matters,  and  her  heart  undaunted  by 
the  greatest  adversities." 

"Monsieur  le  Cardinal,"  said  tho  Cbancellor  Olivier  to 
Monsieur  de  Tournon,  who  had  heard  Groslot,  "what  do 
you  think  of  sueh  boldness?" 

"The  Queen  of  Navarre  does  well  to  choose  for  her  Chan- 


112  AHOUT  (WIIlllKlM']  DK'  MEDICI 

ccllor  a  mnn  froin  wliom  tlic  llouse  of  Lorraine  will  noocl 
to  l)orro\v.  and  who  oiTcrs  thc  Kin,<,'  liis  lionso  whon  tluTc  is 
.1  tnlk  (^f  niovini:  to  (Orléans,"  rcplicd  tlu>  (^irclinal. 

TIu>  Chancollor  and  tho  Cardinal  lookcd  at  eacli  olhcr, 
not  (laring  to  spoak  tlicir  (houfxlds;  ]n\{  K'obcrtot  cxprosscd 
thoni.  for  he  thought  it  ncccssar\'  lo  niakc  a  greatcr  display 
of  dévotion  to  the  Guises  than  thèse  grcat  nicn,  since  he  was 
60  far  beneath  them. 

"It  is  most  unfortunato  that  tlie  lloiiso  of  Xavarrc,  instcad 
of  abjuring  the  faith  of  their  fathcrs,  do  not  abjure  the 
ppirit  of  revenge  and  rébellion  inspircd  ])y  the  Connétable 
de  Bourbon.  We  shall  sce  a  répétition  of  tlic  wars  of  the 
Armaiznacs  and  the  Bourcjuignons." 

''Xo,"  said  Croplot,  "for  therc  is  something  of  Louis  XL  in 
the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine." 

"And  in  Queen  Catherine  too,"  observed  lîobertet. 

At  this  moment  ^fadame  Dayellc,  Mary  Stuart's  favorite 
waiting-woman,  crossed  the  room,  and  went  to  the  Queen's 
chamber.  The  appcarance  of  the  waiting-woman  made  a 
little  stir. 

"T\'e  shall  he  admitted  directly,"  said  Madame  Fieschi. 

"I  do  not  think  so,"  said  the  Duchesse  de  Guise.  "Their 
Majesties  will  come  out,  for  a  State  Council  is  to  be  held." 

La  Dayelle  slipped  into  the  royal  chamber  after  scratching 
at  the  door,  a  deferential  custom  introdnccd  by  Catherine 
de'  Medici,  and  adopted  by  the  French  Court. 

"What  is  the  weather  like,  my  dear  Dayelle?"  asked  Queen 
Mary,  putting  her  fair  fresh  face  out  between  the  curtains. 

"Oh!  madame " 

"What  is  the  matter,  Dayelle?  You  might  hâve  the  bow- 
men  at  your  hcels " 

"Oh!  madame — is  the  King  still  sleeping?" 

"Yes." 

"We  are  to  leave  the  castle,  and  Monsieur  le  Cardinal  de- 
sired  me  to  tell  you  so,  that  vou  might  suggest  it  to  the 
King." 

"Do  you  know  why,  my  good  Dayelle  ?" 


ABOÛT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  113 

"The  Eeformers  mcau  to  carry  you  off." 

"Oh,  this  new  religion  leaves  me  no  peace!  I  dreamed 
last  night  that  I  was  in  prison — I  who  shall  wear  the  united 
crowns  of  the  three  finest  kingdoms  in  the  world." 

"Indeed  !  but,  madame,  it  was  only  a  dream." 

"Carried  off!  That  would  be  rather  amusing.— But  for 
the  sake  of  religion,  and  by  heretics — horrible  !" 

The  Queen  sprang  out  of  bed  and  seated  herself  in  front 
of  the  fircplace  in  a  large  chair  covered  with  red  vclvet,  after 
wrapping  herself  in  a  loose  black  velvet  gown  handed  to  lier 
by  Dayelle,  whieh  she  tied  about  the  waist  with  a  silken 
cord.  Dayelle  lighted  the  fire,  for  the  early  May  mornings 
are  cool  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire. 

"Then  did  my  uneles  get  this  news  in  the  course  of  the 
night?"  the  Queen  inquired  of  Dayelle,  with  whom  she  was 
on  familiar  terms. 

"Early  this  morning  Messieurs  de  Guise  were  walking  on 
the  terrace  to  avoid  being  overheard,  and  received  there  some 
messengers  arriving  in  bot  haste  from  varions  parts  of  the 
kingdom  wliere  the  Reformers  are  busy.  Her  Highness  the 
Queen-mother  went  out  with  her  Italians  hoping  to  be  con- 
sulted,  but  she  was  not  invited  to  join  the  council. 

"She  must  be  furious." 

"Ail  the  more  so  because  she  had  a  little  wrath  left  over 
from  yesterday,"  replied  Dayelle.  "They  say  she  was  far 
from  rejoiced  by  the  sight  of  your  Majesty  in  your  dress  of 
woven  gold  and  your  pretty  veil  of  tan-colored  crape " 

"Leave  us  now,  my  good  Dayelle;  the  King  is  waking. 
Do  not  let  any  one  in,  not  even  those  who  hâve  the  entrée. 
There  are  matters  of  State  in  hand,  and  my  uneles  will  not 
disturb  us." 

"Why,  my  dear  Mary,  are  you  out  of  bed  already?  Is  it 
daylight?"  said  the  young  King,  rousing  himself. 

"My  dear  love,  while  we  were  sleeping,  malignants  hâve 
been  wide  awake,  and  compel  us  to  leave  this  pleasant  home." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  malignants,  my  sweetheart?  Did 
we  not  hâve  the  most  delightful  festival  last  evening  but  for 


114  AHOtlT  CATIIEIUNR  DE'  MRDICI 

tlu>  l.atiu  whiih  tliose  gcnlloiiion  insisted  on  dropping  into 
our  gootl  FivMch  ?" 

"Oh!"  said  Marv.  "(hat  is  in  llie  bcst  taste,  and  llabelais 
brought  Latin  into  fashion." 

"Ah!  yen  are  so  loarned,  aiid  T  nin  onl}'  sorr}^  not  to  be 
able  to  do  you  honor  in  vcm-sc.  1 1'  I  wero  not  King,  I  would 
take  back  Blaster  Aniyot  i'roni  niy  brothcr,  who  is  being  made 
60  wise " 

"You  havc  notliing  to  envy  your  brothcr  for;  he  writes 
verses  and  shows  tlicm  to  me,  bogging  me  to  show  hiin  mine. 
Be  content,  you  are  by  far  the  bcst  of  the  four,  and  will  be 
as  good  a  king  as  you  arc  a  charming  lover.  Indccd,  that 
perhaps  is  the  reasou  your  mothcr  loves  you  so  little.  But  be 
easy;  I,  dear  heart,  will  love  you  for  ail  the  world." 

"It  is  no  grcat  merit  in  me  to  love  such  a  perfect  Queen," 
said  the  young  King.  "1  do  not  know  what  hindcred  me 
from  embracing  you  beforc  the  whole  Court  last  uight,  when 
you  danced  the  branle  with  tapers.  I  could  see  how  ail  the 
women  lookcd  serving-wcnches  by  you,  my  swcet  Marie!" 

"For  plain  prose  your  language  is  charming,  my  dear 
heart  :  it  is  love  that  speaks,  to  be  sure.  And,  you  know,  my 
dear,  that  if  you  wcre  but  a  poor  little  page,  I  should  still  love 
you  just  as  much  as  I  now  do,  and  yet  it  is  a  good  thing  to  be 
able  to  say,  'My  sweetheart  is  a  King  !'  " 

"Such  a  pretty  arm  !  Why  must  we  get  dressed?  I  like 
to  push  my  fingers  through  your  soft  hair  and  tangle  your 
golden  curls.  Listen,  pretty  one;  I  will  not  allow  you  to 
let  your  women  kiss  your  fair  neck  and  your  pretty  shoulders 
any  more  !  I  am  jealous  of  the  Scotch  mists  for  having 
touched  them." 

"Will  you  not  come  to  see  my  beloved  country  ?  The  Scotch 
would  love  you,  and  there  would  be  no  rebellions,  as  there 
are  hère." 

"Who  rebels  in  our  kingdom  ?"  said  François  de  Valois, 
wrapping  himself  in  his  gown,  and  drawing  bis  wife  on  to  bis 
knee. 

"Yes,  this  is  very  pretty  play,"  said  she,  withdrawing  her 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  115 

cheek  from  his  kiss.    "But  you  hâve  to  reign,  if  you  please, 
my  liège." 

"Who  talks  of  reigning? — This  morning  I  want  to " 

"Necd  you  say  '1  want  to/  when  you  can  do  what  you 
will  ? — That  is  the  language  of  neither  king  nor  lover.  How- 
ever,  that  is  not  the  matter  on  hand — we  hâve  important 
business  to  attend  to." 

"Oh  !"  said  the  King,  "it  is  a  long  time  since  we  hâve  had 
any  business  to  do. — Is  it  amusing?" 

"JSTot  at  ail,"  said  Mary  ;  "we  must  make  a  move." 

"I  will  wager,  my  pretty  one,  that  you  hâve  seen  one  of 
your  uncles,  who  manage  matters  so  well  that,  at  seventeen, 
I  am  a  King  only  in  name.  I  really  know  not  why,  since  the 
first  Council,  I  hâve  ever  sat  at  one  ;  they  could  do  everything 
quite  as  well  by  setting  a  crown  on  my  chair  ;  I  see  everything 
through  their  eyes,  and  settle  matters  blindfold." 

"Indeed,  monsieur,"  said  the  Queen,  standing  up  and  as- 
suming  an  air  of  annoyance,  "you  had  agreed  never  again 
to  give  me  the  smallest  trouble  on  that  score,  but  to  leave 
my  uncles  to  exercise  your  roj^al  power  for  the  happiness  of 
your  people.  A  nice  people  they  are!  Why,  if  you  tried 
to  govern  them  unaided,  they  would  swallow  you  whole  like 
a  strawberry.  They  need  warriors  to  rule  them — a  stem 
master  gloved  with  iron  ;  while  you — you  are  a  charmer  whom 
I  love  just  as  you  are,  and  should  not  love  if  you  were 
différent — do  you  hear,  my  lord?"  she  added,  bending  down 
to  kiss  the  boy,  who  seemed  inelined  to  rebel  against  this 
speech,  but  who  was  mollified  by  the  caress. 

"Oh,  if  only  they  were  not  3''0ur  uncles  !"  eried  Francis. 
"I  cannot  endure  that  Cardinal;  and  when  he  puts  on  his 
insinuating  air  and  his  submissive  ways,  and  says  to  me  with 
a  bow.  'Sire,  the  honor  of  the  Crown  and  the  faith  of  your 

fathers  is  at  stake,  your  !Majesty  will  never  allow '  and 

this  and  that — I  am  certain  he  toils  for  nothing  but  hia 
cursed  House  of  Lorraine." 

"How  well  you  mimic  him!"  cried  the  Queen.  '^ut  why 
do  you  not  make  thèse  Guises  infonn  you  of  what  is  going 


lie,  AHoi'T  (^vriiiiiuixio  nir  mkdici 

forwartl,  so  as  to  govorii  hy  and  hy  on  yoiir  own  accouut 
^\ lu-n  you  are  of  full  a^o?  l  aiii  yoiir  wil'e,  and  yoiir  lionor 
is  mine.  Wo  will  rcign,  swcctlicart — never  fear!  But  ail 
will  noi  be  roses  for  us  till  wo  aie  five  lo  please  ourselves. 
There  is  nothing  so  hard  fur  a  King  as  to  govern  ! 

**Ani  I  tlio  (Jucon  now,  1  ask  you?  Do  you  thiiik  that 
your  niolher  evor  fails  to  repay  me  in  evil  for  what  good 
my  uneles  may  do  for  tlic  glory  of  your  tlirone?  And  mark 
the  différence!  My  uneles  are  great  priiues,  descendants 
of  Charlemagnc,  full  of  goodwill,  and  ready  to  die  for  you; 
whilo  this  daughter  of  a  leech,  or  a  merchant,  Queen  of 
France  by  a  mère  chance,  is  as  shrewish  as  a  citizen's  wife 
who  is  not  mistress  in  lier  house.  Tlie  Italiau  woman  is 
provokcd  that  she  cannot  set  every  ono  by  the  ears,  and  she 
is  aiways  coming  to  me  with  lier  pale,  solemn  face,  and 
thcn  with  lier  pinched  lips  she  begins:  'Daughter,  you  are 
the  Queen;  I  am  only  the  second  lady  in  the  kingdom' — she 
is  furious,  you  see,  dcar  heart — 'but  if  I  were  in  your  place, 
I  would  not  wear  crimson  velvet  while  the  Court  is  in  mourn- 
ing,  aiid  I  would  appear  in  publie  with  my  hair  plainly 
dressed  and  with  no  jewels,  for  what  is  unseemly  in  any  lady 
is  even  more  so  in  a  queen.  ISTor  would  I  dance  myself  ;  I 
would  only  see  others  dance  !'  That  is  the  kind  of  thing  she 
says  to  me." 

"Oh,  dear  Heaven  !"  cried  the  King,  "I  can  hear  her! 
Mercy,  if  she  only  knew " 

"Why,  you  still  quake  before  her.  She  wearies  you — say 
so?  We  will  send  her  away.  By  my  faith,  that  she  should 
deceive  you  might  be  endured,  but  to  be  so  tedious " 

"In  Heaven's  name,  be  silent,  Marie,"  said  the  King,  at 
once  alarmed  and  delighted.  "I  would  not  hâve  you  lose  her 
favor." 

"Never  fear  that  she  will  quarrel  with  me,  with  the  three 
finest  crowns  in  the  world  on  my  head,  my  little  King,"  said 
Mary  Stuart.  "Even  though  she  hâtes  me  for  a  thousand 
rea-sons,  she  flatters  me,  to  win  me  from  my  uneles." 

"Hâtes  you?" 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  117 

'Tes,  my  angel  !  And  if  I  had  not  a  thousand  such  proofs 
as  women  can  give  each  other,  and  such  as  women  only 
can  understand,  her  persistent  opposition  to  our  happy  love- 
making  woiild  be  enough.  Now,  is  it  my  fault  if  your  father 
could  never  endure  Mademoiselle  de'  Medici?  In  short,  she 
likes  me  so  little,  that  you  had  to  be  quite  in  a  rage  to  pre- 
vent  our  having  separate  sets  of  rooms  hère  and  at  Saint- 
Germain.  She  declared  that  it  was  customary  for  the  Kings 
and  Queens  of  France.  Customary  î — It  was  your  father's 
custom;  that  is  quite  intelligible.  As  to  your  grandfather, 
Francis,  the  good  man  established  the  practice  for  the  con- 
venience  of  his  love  afîairs.  So  be  on  your  guard;  if  we  are 
obliged  to  leave  this  place,  do  not  let  the  Grand  Master 
divide  us." 

"If  we  leave?  But  I  do  not  intend  to  leave  this  pretty 
château,  whence  we  see  the  Loire  and  ail  the  country  around 
— a  town  at  our  feet,  the  brightest  sky  in  the  world  above  us, 
and  thèse  lovely  gardens.  Or  if  I  go,  it  will  be  to  travel  with 
you  in  Italy  and  see  Raphael's  pictures  and  Saint-Peter's  at 
Eome." 

"And  the  orange-trees.  Ah,  sweet  little  King,  if  you  could 
know  how  your  Mary  longs  to  walk  under  orange-trees  in 
flower  and  fruit  !  Alas  !  I  may  never  see  one  !  Oh  !  to  hear 
an  Italian  song  under  those  fragrant  grèves,  on  the  shore  of 
a  blue  sea,  under  a  cloudless  sky,  and  to  clasp  each  other 
thus  ! " 

"Let  us  be  ofï,"  said  the  King. 

"Be  otî  !"  cried  the  Grand  Master,  coming  in.  "Yes,  Sire, 
you  must  be  ofî  from  Blois.  Pardon  my  boldness;  but  cir- 
cumstances  overrule  étiquette,  and  I  hâve  come  to  beg  you 
to  call  a  Council." 

Mary  and  Francis  had  started  apart  on  being  thus  taken 
by  surprise,  and  they  both  wore  the  same  expression  of 
oifended  sovereign  Majesty. 

"You  are  too  much  the  Grand  Master,  Monsieur  de  Guise," 
Baid  the  young  King,  suppressing  his  wrath. 


118  AHOlîT  GATIIKIUNE  DE'  MEDICI 

"Dovil  tako  lovors!"  TiiuKcri'il  tlu<  Ciinlinal  in  Cathcriue's 
ear. 

"My  son,"  roplied  the  Quocn-motlur,  aj)i)caring  bohind 
tlu'  Cardinal,  "the  safolj  of  3our  j)c'i-son  is  ai  stake  as  well  as 
of  your  kin^dom." 

"Horesy  was  awake  wliile  you  slopt,  Sire,"  said  the  Car- 
dinal. 

"Withdraw  into  the  hall,"  said  tho  little  King;  'Sve  will 
hold  a  Couneil." 

"Madame,"  said  the  Duke  to  the  Qucon,  "your  furrier's 
son  has  corne  with  some  furs  which  are  seasonable  for  your 
joiirney,  as  we  shall  probably  ride  by  the  Loire. — But  he  also 
wishes  to  speak  wilh  niadnnu',"  he  added,  turning  to  the 
Queen-motlier.  "W'hilo  Ihe  King  is  dressing,  would  you  and 
Her  Majesty  dismiss  him  forthwith,  so  that  this  trille  may 
no  further  trouble  ns." 

"With  pleasure,"  replied  Catherine;  adding  to  herself,  "If 
lie  tliinks  to  be  rid  of  me  by  such  tricks,  he  little  knows  me." 

The  Cardinal  and  the  Duke  rctired,  leaving  the  two  Queens 
with  the  King.  As  he  went  through  the  guardroom  to  go 
to  the  council-ehamber,  the  Grand  Master  desired  the  usher 
to  bring  up  the  Queen's  furrier. 

When  Christophe  saw  this  oiïicial  coming  towards  him 
from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other,  he  took  him,  from  his 
dress,  to  be  some  one  of  importance,  and  his  heart  sank 
within  him;  but  this  sensation,  natural  enough  at  the  ap- 
proach  of  a  critical  moment,  became  sheer  terror  when  the 
usher,  whose  advance  had  the  effect  of  directing  the  eyes  of 
the  whole  splendid  assembly  to  Christophe  with  his  bundles 
and  his  abject  looks,  said  to  him  : 

"Their  Ilighnesses  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  and  the 
Grand  Master  désire  to  speak  to  you  in  the  council-roora." 

"Has  any  one  betrayed  me  ?"  was  the  thought  of  this  hap- 
less  envoy  of  the  Eeformers. 

Christophe  followed  the  usher,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground, 
and  never  looked  up  till  he  found  himself  in  the  spacious 
council-room — as  large  almost  as  the  guardroom.     The  two 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  119 

Guises  were  alone,  standing  in  front  of  the  splendid  chiraney- 
place  that  backcd  against  that  in  the  guardroom,  where  the 
maids  of  honor  were  grouped. 

"You  hâve  corne  f  rom  Paris  ?  Whieh  road  did  you  take  ?" 
the  Cardinal  said  to  Christophe. 

"I  came  by  water,  monseigneur,"  replied  the  lad. 

"And  how  did  you  get  into  Blois  ?"  said  the  Grand  Master. 

"By  the  river  port,  monseigneur." 

"And  no  one  interfered  with  you?"  said  the  Duke,  who 
was  examining  the  young  man  elosely. 

"Xo,  monseigneur.  I  told  the  first  soldier,  who  made  as 
though  he  would  stop  me,  that  I  had  corne  on  duty  to  wait 
on  the  two  Queens,  and  that  my  father  is  furrier  to  their 
Majesties." 

*^hat  is  doing  in  Paris?"  asked  the  Cardinal. 

"They  are  still  trying  to  discover  the  murderer  who  killed 
Président  Minard." 

"Are  not  you  the  son  of  my  surgeon's  greatest  friend?" 
asked  the  Duc  de  Guise,  deceived  by  Christophe's  expression 
of  candor,  now  that  his  fears  were  allayed. 

"Yes,  monseigneur." 

The  Grand  Master  went  out,  hastily  lifted  the  curtain 
which  screened  the  double  doors  of  the  council-chamber,  and 
ehowed  his  face  to  the  crowd,  among  whom  he  looked  for 
the  King's  surgeon-in-chief.  Ambroise  Paré,  standing  in  a 
corner,  was  aware  of  a  glance  shot  at  him  by  the  Duke,  and 
went  to  him.  Ambroise,  already  inclined  to  the  Eeformed 
religion,  ended  by  adopting  it;  but  the  friendship  of  the 
Guises  and  of  the  French  kings  preserved  him  from  the  vari- 
ous  disasters  that  befell  the  heretics.  The  Duke,  who  felt 
that  he  owed  his  life  to  Ambroise  Paré,  had  appointed  him 
surgeon-in-chief  to  the  King  within  a  few  days  past. 

"What  is  it,  monseigneur,"  said  the  leech.  "Is  the  King 
ill?    I  should  not  be  surprised." 

"Why?" 

"The  Queen  is  too  fascinating,"  said  the  surgeon. 

"Ah  !"  replied  the  Duke,  surprised.    "However,  that  is  not 


120  AlU)rT  CATIIKr.lNE  DK'   MEDICI 

tho  case,"  lie  wont  on  aftor  a  pause.  "Ambroiso,  T  want 
you  to  sec  a  frieiul  of  yours/'  aiul  lie  Icd  him  on  to  the  thresh- 
old  of  the  couneil-ehaniber  door  and  puinted  to  Christophe. 

"Ah,  to  be  sure,"  eried  the  surf^eon,  holding  out  his  hand 
to  the  youth.     "How  is  your  fathor,  my  boy?" 

"Very  wcll,  Master  Anibroise,"  Christophe  replicd. 

"And  what  arc  you  doing  at  Court?"  l'are  went  on.  "It 
is  not  your  business  to  carry  parcels;  your  father  wants  to 
niake  a  lawycr  of  you.  Do  you  want  the  protection  of  thèse 
two  great  Princes  to  becomc  a  jileader?" 

"Why,  yes,  indeed,"  replied  Christophe,  "but  for  my 
fathcr's  sake;  and  if  you  can  intercède  for  us,  add  your  en- 
treaties,"  he  went  on,  with  a  piteous  air,  "to  obtain  an  ordor 
from  Monseigneur  the  Grand  Master  for  the  payinent  of  the 
moneys  due  to  my  father,  for  he  does  not  know  which  way 
to  turn -" 

The  Cardinal  and  his  brother  looked  at  each  other,  and 
seemed  to  be  satisfied. 

"Leave  us  now,"  said  the  Grand  ^Master  to  Anibroise  with 
a  nod. — "And  you,  my  friend,"  he  added  to  Christophe,  "set- 
tle  your  business  quickly,  and  get  back  to  Paris.  My  secretary 
will  give  you  a  pass,  for,  by  Heaven,  the  roads  will  not  be 
pleasant  to  travel  on  !" 

Xeither  of  the  brothers  had  the  slightcst  suspicion  of  the 
important  interests  that  lay  in  Christophe's  hands,  being  now 
quite  assured  that  he  was  certainly  the  son  of  Lecamus,  a 
good  Catholic,  purveyor  to  the  Court,  and  that  he  had  corne 
solely  to  get  his  money. 

"Take  him  round  to  be  near  the  door  of  the  Queen's  cham- 
ber;  she  wdll  ask  for  him  no  doubt,"  said  the  Cardinal  to 
the  surgeon. 

While  the  furrier's  son  was  being  thus  cross-questioned  in 
the  council-room,  the  King  had  left  his  mother  and  the 
Queen  together,  having  gone  into  his  dressing-room,  which 
was  beyond  a  room  adjoining  the  bedroom. 

Catherine,  standing  in  the  recess  of  the  deep  window,  was 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  121 

looking  out  on  the  gardens  lost  in  melancholy  thought.  She 
foresaw  that  one  of  the  greatest  commanders  of  the  âge,  in 
the  course  of  that  morning,  in  the  very  next  hour,  would 
take  the  place  of  her  son  the  King,  under  the  terrible  title 
of  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom.  In  the  face  of  such 
péril  she  was  alone,  without  a  plan,  without  defence.  In- 
deed,  as  she  stood  there  in  her  mourning,  which  she  had  not 
ceased  to  wear  since  the  death  of  Henri  II.,  she  might  hâve 
been  compared  to  a  phantom,  so  still  were  her  pale  features 
as  she  stood  absorbed  in  thought.  Her  black  eye  seemed 
to  wander  in  the  indécision  for  which  great  politicians  are 
so  often  blamed,  which  in  thera  is  the  resuit  of  the  breadth 
of  sight  which  enables  them  to  see  every  difficulty,  and  to 
balance  one  against  the  other,  adding  up  the  sum-total  of 
risk  before  taking  a  part.  There  was  a  ringing  in  her  ears,  a 
turmoil  in  her  blood;  but  she  stood  there,  nevertheless,  calm 
and  dignifîed,  while  gauging  the  depths  of  the  political  abyss 
beyond  the  real  gulf  that  lay  at  her  feet. 

Since  the  day  when  the  Vidame  de  Chartres  had  been  ar- 
rested,  this  was  the  second  of  those  terrible  days  of  which 
there  were  henceforth  to  be  so  many  in  the  course  of  her  royal 
career;  but  she  never  again  made  a  mistake  in  the  school  of 
power.  Though  the  sceptre  seemed  always  to  fly  from  her 
grasp,  she  meant  to  seize  it,  and,  in  fact,  did  seize  it,  by  that 
sheer  force  of  will  which  had  never  given  way  to  the  scom 
of  her  father-in-law,  Francis  I.,  and  his  Court — by  whom, 
though  Dauphiness,  she  had  been  so  little  thought  of — nor 
to  the  constant  déniais  of  Henri  II.,  nor  to  the  unresting 
antagonism  of  her  rivaJ,  Diane  de  Poitiers.  A  man  would 
not  hâve  understood  this  Queen  in  check;  but  Mary  Stuart, 
so  fair,  so  crafty,  so  élever,  so  girlish,  and  yet  so  omniscient, 
watched  her  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  while  affecting  to 
warble  an  Italian  air  with  an  indiffèrent  countenance.  With- 
out understanding  the  tempest  of  ambition  which  brought  a 
cold  moisture  to  the  Florentine  Queen's  brow,  the  pretty  Scotch 
girl,  with  her  saucy  face,  knew  that  the  high  position  of  her 
uncle  the  Duc  de  Guise  was  filling  Catherine  with  suppressed 


\-2-2  AHOUT  CATIII:KIM<:   DF/    MlODICl 

fiirv.  Xow,  notliiiif:^  anniscd  hor  so  inucli  as  watehing  hcr 
iiuUhor-in-law,  whoin  slie  rcgardcd  as  an  iiitriguin^  adven- 
turi'i^s,  who.  having  boeu  humblcd,  was  always  propared  for 
revenge.  The  face  of  thc  elder  was  grave  and  glooniy,  a 
little  cadaverous,  by  reason  of  tlic  livid  complexion  of  thc 
Italiens,  which  by  dayliglit  looks  like  ycllow  ivory,  though 
by  candlo-ligiit  it  is  dazzling;  while  thc  younger  face  was 
bright  and  frosh.  At  si.xtccn  Mary  Stuart  had  tiial  crcamy 
fairnoss  for  which  she  was  so  fanions,  lier  bright,  rosy  face, 
with  clearly-cut  featurcs,  sparklod  with  childish  niischief, 
very  frankly  cxprcsscd  in  the  rcgular  arch  of  lier  brows,  the 
brightnoss  of  hcr  cyes,  and  the  pcrt  smile  of  her  pretty  mouth. 
She  had  thon  in  ])crfection  that  kittonish  grâce  which  nothing 
— ncithcr  captivity  nor  the  sight  of  thc  horrible  block — ever 
conipletely  qucllcd. 

Thus  thèse  two  Queens,  one  in  thc  morning,  the  other  in 
the  summer  of  life,  were  at  this  tinic  a  pcrfect  contrast. 
Catherine  was  an  imposing  sovereign,  an  impénétrable  widow, 
with  no  passion  but  the  love  of  power.  Mary  was  a  fcather- 
brained  and  light-hcartcd  wife,  who  thought  of  her  crowns 
as  pla}i;hings.  One  looked  forward  to  impending  misfortunes  ; 
she  even  had  a  glimpse  of  the  murder  of  the  Guises,  guessing 
that  this  would  be  the  only  way  to  strike  dowTi  men  who  were 
capable  of  raising  themselves  above  the  throne  and  the  Parle- 
ment; she  saw  ri  vers  of  blood  in  a  long  struggle — the  other 
little  dreamed  that  she  would  herself  bc  murdered  by  form 
of  law. 

A  curious  reflection  brought  a  little  calm  to  the  Italian 
Quecn. 

"According  to  the  soothsayer  and  to  Euggieri's  forecast, 
this  reign  is  soon  to  end.  My  difïiculties  will  not  last," 
thought  she. 

And  thus,  strange  to  say,  an  occult  science,  now  forgotten 
— judicial  astrology — was  a  support  to  Catherine  at  this 
juncture,  as  it  was  throughout  her  life;  for  the  belief  grew 
constantly  from  seeing  the  prédictions  of  those  who  prac- 
tised  it  realized  with  the  greatest  exactitude. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  123 

'TTou  are  very  serious,  madame,"  said  Mary  Stuart,  taking 
from  Dayelle's  hands  lier  little  cap,  pinclied  down  over  the 
parting  of  her  hair  with  two  frilled  vvings  of  handsome  lace 
beyond  the  puffs  of  wavy  yellow  hair  that  shadowed  her 
temples. 

The  painters  of  the  time  hâve  so  amply  perpetuated  this 
cap,  that  it  now  belongs  essentially  to  the  Queen  of  Scots, 
though  it  was  Catherine  who  invented  it  when  she  went  into 
mouming  for  Henri  II.  ;  but  she  could  not  wear  it  with  such 
good  elïect  as  her  daughter-in-law,  to  whom  it  was  infinitely 
more  becoming.  And  this  was  not  the  smallest  of  the  griev- 
ances  harborcd  by  the  Queen-mother  against  the  young 
Queen. 

"Does  your  Majesty  mean  that  for  a  reproof  ?"  said  Cath- 
erine, turning  to  her  daughter-in-law. 

"L  owe  respect,  and  should  not  dare "  said  the  Scotch- 

woman  meaningly,  wiih  a  glanée  at  Dayelle. 

Between  the  two  Queens  the  favorite  waiting-woman  stood 
like  the  figure-head  on  a  fire-dog;  an  approving  smile  might 
cost  her  her  life. 

"How  can  I  be  as  gay  as  you  after  losing  the  late  King, 
and  when  I  see  my  son's  kingdom  on  the  eve  of  a  conflagra- 
tion?" 

"Politics  do  not  much  concem  women,"  replied  Mary 
Stuart.    "Besides,  my  uncles  are  there." 

Thèse  two  sentences,  in  the  eircumstances,  were  two  poi- 
soned  arrows. 

"Let  us  see  our  furs  then,"  the  Italian  replied,  "and  so 
tum  our  minds  to  our  own  business,  while  your  uncles  settle 
that  of  the  kingdom." 

"Oh,  but  we  shall  attend  the  Council,  madame;  we  are  of 
more  use  there  than  you  suppose." 

*^e?"  said  Catherine,  with  feigned  astonishraent.  "I,  for 
my  part,  do  not  know  Latin  !" 

"You  fancy  me  so  leamed?"  said  Mary  Stuart,  with  a 
laugh.  "Xay,  madame,  I  swear  to  you  that  at  this  moment 
T  am  studying  in  the  hopo  of  rivaling  tho  Modici  and  of 
knowing  some  day  how  to  heal  the  wounds  of  the  country." 


li:4  AHOUT  CATIIKHINK  I)I<r   MKDICI 

Tins  bharj)  t^liaft  picrccd  C'allu'i-inc  lo  the  hearl,  for  il  waa 
jiu  allusion  lo  tlio  origiii  of  tlu-  Miniici,  who  wcrc  dcsccndod, 
as  somc  said,  froni  a  kvcli,  or,  as  uthcrs  liad  il,  fioin  a  rich 
drug  niorchant.  Slio  liad  uo  roply  roady.  DaycUo  colored 
^vllon  lier  mistress  looked  to  lier  for  tlu'  a})plause  which  every- 
body,  and  evon  quoons,  oxpoct  froin  tlicir  infuriors  wlicn  tlicy 
liave  no  bolloraudicuco. 

"Your  witticisms,  madame,  cannot,  unfortunatcly,  hcal 
either  the  maladies  of  the  State  or  lliose  of  the  Chureh,"  said 
Catherine,  with  ealm  and  dignilied  coldness.  "J\ly  fore- 
fathers"  knowledge  of  sucli  matters  won  thein  tlirones  ;  while 
you,  if  you  persist  in  jesting  in  the  midst  of  daiiger,  are  like 
euough  to  lose  yours.'' 

At  tliis  juncturc  Dayelle  opened  the  door  to  Christophe, 
shown  in  by  the  chief  physician  himself  after  scratching  at 
the  door. 

The  yoiing  Reformer  wanted  to  study  Cathcrinc's  counte- 
nance,  and  afîected  a  shyness,  which  was  natural  enough  on 
finding  himself  in  this  place;  but  he  was  surprised  by  Mary'a 
eagerness.    She  rushed  at  the  boxes  to  look  at  her  surcoat. 

"Madame,"  said  Christophe,  addrcssing  Catherine. 

He  turned  his  back  on  the  other  Queen  and  Dayelle, 
promptly  taking  advantage  of  the  attention  the  two  wcre  de- 
voting  to  the  furs  to  strike  a  bold  blow. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  asked  Catherine,  looking 
keenly  at  him. 

Christophe  had  placed  the  agreement  proposed  by  the 
Prince  de  Condé,  with  the  Reformer's  plan  of  action  and  an 
account  of  their  forces,  over  his  heart,  between  his  cloth 
jerkin  and  his  shirt,  wrapped  inside  the  furrier's  bill  of  what 
Queen  Catherine  owed  him. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "my  father  is  in  dreadful  want  of 
money,  and  if  you  would  condescend  to  look  through  the  ac- 
counts,"  he  added,  unfolding  the  paper  and  slipping  the 
agreement  under  it,  "you  will  see  that  your  Majesty  owes  him 
six  thousand  crowns.  May  your  goodness  hâve  pity  on  us  I 
See,  madame." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  125 

Aixd  he  held  out  the  document. 

"Eead  it.  Tliis  dates  so  far  back  as  tlie  accession  of  the 
late  King." 

Catherine  was  bewildered  by  the  preamble  to  the  address, 
but  she  did  net  lose  hor  présence  of  mind  ;  she  hastily  rolled 
up  the  paper,  admiring  the  young  man's  readiness  and  daring. 
She  saw  froin  thèse  masterly  tactics  that  he  would  understand 
her,  so  she  tapped  him  on  the  head  with  the  roll  of  paper, 
and  said: — "You  are  very  ill  advised,  my  young  friend,  in 
handing  the  bill  in  before  the  furs.  Leam  sorae  knowledge 
of  women  !  You  must  never  ask  for  your  money  till  we  are 
perfectly  satisfied." 

"Is  that  the  tradition?"  said  the  young  Queen  to  her 
mother-in-Iaw,  who  made  no  reply. 

"Ah,  mesdames,  excuse  my  father,"  said  Christophe.  "If 
he  had  not  wanted  the  money,  you  would  not  hâve  your  furs. 
Tlie  country  is  up  in  arms,  and  there  is  so  much  danger  on 
the  roads,  that  only  our  great  need  induced  me  to  come.  No 
one  else  would  risk  his  life." 

"This  lad  is  quite  fresh,"  said  Mary  Stuart,  smiling. 

It  is  not  superfiuous  to  the  better  understanding  of  this 
important  little  scène  to  remark  that  a  surcoat  was,  as  the 
name  implies,  a  sort  of  close-fitting  jacket  or  spencer  which 
ladies  wore  over  their  dress,  and  which  wrapped  them  closely, 
shaped  down  to  the  bips.  This  garment  protected  the  back, 
chest,  and  throat  from  the  cold.  Surcoats  were  lined  with 
fur  which  tumed  up  over  the  stuff,  forming  a  more  or  less 
wide  border.  Mary  Stuart  while  tr}'ing  on  her  surcoat  waa 
looking  at  herself  in  a  large  Venetian  mirror,  to  see  the  effect 
of  it  at  the  back;  thus  she  had  left  her  mother-in-law 
liberty  to  glance  at  the  packet  of  papers,  of  which  the  volume 
might  otherwise  bave  excited  her  suspicions. 

"Does  a  man  ever  speak  to  a  lady  of  the  dangers  he  bas 
incurred  when  he  is  safe  and  sound  in  her  présence  ?"  said  she, 
tuming  round  on  Christophe. 

"Oh,  madame,  I  hâve  your  account  too,"  said  he,  looking  at 
her  with  well-acted  simplicity. 


l-C,  AHOTT  (^VTmOUlNK  I>F/   MKDICI 

'Vhv  youiii^  (4>iK'on  lookinl  at  liiin  fruin  hcail  Id  fool  wilhoul 
(aking  Ihc  papcr;  but  slio  obsorvcd,  witlioiil  drawing  aiiy  con- 
clusions at  llu>  moment,  tliai  lie  liad  takcn  Quccn  Catln'rino's 
bill  ont  of  iiis  brca^iit,  luul  drew  Iuts  (nit  of  liis  pocket.  Nor 
ditl  she  sec  in  thc  lad's  eyos  the  atliniration  that  hcr  beauty 
won  hcr  from  ail  the  world  ;  but  she  was  Ihinking  so  nnich  of 
lier  surcoat,  that  she  did  not  at  once  wonder  what  could  bc 
the  cause  of  his  indilTcrence. 

"Take  it,  Dayelle,"  said  she  to  thc  waiting-woman.  "You 
can  give  thc  account  to  ^Monsieur  de  Versailles  (Lonicnie), 
and  désire  him,  from  me,  to  pay  it." 

"Indeed,  madame,  but  if  you  do  not  give  me  an  order 
signal  by  the  King,  or  by  llis  llighness  the  Grand  Master, 
wlio  is  at  hand,  your  gracions  promise  will  hâve  no  effect." 

"You  are  rather  hastier  than  beseems  a  subject,  my  friend," 
said  Mar}'  Stuart.  "So  you  do  not  belicvc  in  royal  prom- 
ises? 

The  King  came  in  drcssed  in  his  long  silk  hosc  and  trunks, 
thc  breeches  of  the  time,  but  wore  neither  doublet  nor  cloak  ; 
he  had  only  a  rich  -wrapper  of  velvet  lined  throughout  with 
fur;  for  wrapper,  a  word  of  modem  use,  can  alone  describe 
the  négligé  of  this  apparel. 

"Who  is  the  rascal  that  doubts  your  word?"  said  the  young 
King,  who,  though  at  a  distance,  had  heard  his  wife's  speech. 

The  door  of  the  King's  closet  was  hidden  by  the  bed.  This 
closet  was  subsequently  called  the  old  closet  (le  Cabinet 
vieua:)  to  distinguish  it  from  the  splendid  painted  closet  con- 
structed  for  Henri  III.  on  the  other  side  of  the  room  ad- 
joining  the  hall  of  the  States-General.  Henri  III.  hid  the 
assassins  in  the  old  closet,  and  sent  to  désire  the  Duc  de  Guise 
to  attend  him  there;  while  he,  during  the  murder,  remained 
concealed  in  the  new  closet,  whence  he  emerged  only  to  see 
this  overweening  subject  die — a  subject  for  whom  there  could 
be  no  prison,  no  tribunal,  no  judges,  no  laws  in  the  kingdom. 
But  for  thèse  dreadful  events,  the  historian  could  now  hardly 
identify  the  former  uses  of  thèse  rooms  and  halls  filled  with 
soldiers.  A  sergeant  writes  to  his  sweetheart  on  the  spot 
where  Catherine  gravely  considered  her  struggle  with  parties. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  127 

"Corne,  my  boy/'  said  the  Queen-mother  ;  "I  will  see  that 
you  are  paid.  Trade  must  flourish,  and  money  is  its  main 
sinew." 

"Ay,  go,  my  good  youth,"  said  the  young  Queen,  laughing; 
"my  august  mother  understands  matters  of  trade  better  than 
I  do." 

Catherine  vras  about  to  leave  the  room  without  replying  to 
this  innuendo  ;  but  it  struck  her  that  her  indifférence  might 
arouse  suspicions,  and  she  rctorted  on  her  daughter-in-law  : 

"And  you,  my  dear,  trade  in  love." 

Then  she  went  downstairs. 

"Put  ail  those  things  away,  Dayelle. — And  come  to  the 
council-room.  Sire,"  said  the  young  Queen  to  the  King,  en- 
chanted  at  having  to  décide  the  important  question  of  the 
lieutenancy  of  the  kingdom  in  her  mother-in-law's  absence. 

Mary  Stuart  took  the  King's  arm.  Dayelle  went  out  first, 
spcaking  a  word  to  the  pages,  and  one  of  them — young 
Téligny,  fated  to  pcrish  miserably  on  the  night  of  Saint- 
Bartholomew — shouted  out  : 

"The  King." 

On  hearing  the  cry,  the  two  musketeers  carried  arms,  and 
the  two  pages  led  the  way  towards  the  council-chamber  be- 
twcen  the  line  of  courtiers  on  one  side  and  the  line  formed 
by  the  maids  of  honor  to  the  two  Queens  on  the  other.  Ail 
the  members  of  the  Council  then  gathered  round  the  door  of 
the  hall,  which  was  at  no  great  distance  from  the  staircase. 
The  Grand  Master,  the  Cardinal,  and  the  Chancellor  ad- 
vanced  to  meet  the  two  young  sovereigns,  who  smiled  to  some 
of  the  maids,  or  answered  the  inquiries  of  some  of  the  Court 
favorites  more  intimate  than  the  rest. 

The  Queen,  however,  evidently  impatient,  dragged  Francis 
II.  on  towards  the  vast  council-room.  As  soon  as  the  heavy 
thud  of  the  arquebuses  dropping  on  the  floor  again  an- 
nounced  that  the  royal  pair  had  gone  in,  the  pages  put  on 
their  caps,  and  the  conversations  in  the  varions  groups  took 
their  course  again  on  the  gravity  of  the  business  about  to  be 
discussed. 


IIÎS  ABOUT  CATIIKItlNE  DE"   MEDICI 

"Chivcrni  wns  sont  to  fotch  tlio  Connétable,  and  he  has 
not  conio,"  said  ono. 

"Tliore  is  no  prince  of  tlie  blood  présent,"  reraarked  an- 
othor. 

The  Chancellor  and  Monsieur  de  Tournon  looked  anxious. 

"The  IJrand  Master  has  sent  word  to  the  Kceper  of  the 
Seals  to  be  sure  not  to  fail  to  attend  this  Council;  a  good 
niauy  letters  patent  will  be  issued,  no  doubt." 

"How  is  it  that  the  Queen-inother  rcmains  below,  in  her 
own  rooms,  at  such  a  juncture?" 

"They  are  going  to  make  things  hot  for  us,"  said  Groslot 
to  Cardinal  de  Châtillon. 

In  short,  cvery  one  had  somcthing  to  say.  Some  wcre 
pacing  the  room  from  end  to  end,  otliers  were  flitting  round 
the  maids  of  honor,  as  though  it  could  be  possible  to  catch  a 
few  words  through  a  wall  thrce  fect  thick,  or  two  doors  and 
the  heavy  curtaius  that  screened  them. 

The  King,  seated  at  one  end  of  the  long  table  covered  with 
blue  velvet,  which  stood  in  the  niiddle  of  the  room,  liis  young 
Queen  in  an  armchair  at  bis  side,  was  waiting  for  his  mother. 
Eobertet  was  mending  his  pens.  The  two  Cardinals,  the 
Grand  Master,  the  Chancellor,  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals — in 
short,  the  whole  assembly,  looked  at  the  little  King,  wonder- 
ing  why  he  did  not  give  the  word  for  them  ail  to  be  seated. 

"Are  we  to  sit  in  council  in  the  absence  of  the  Queen- 
mother?"  the  Chancellor  asked,  addressing  the  young  King. 

The  two  Guises  ascribed  Catherine's  absence  to  some  cun- 
ning  trick  of  their  niece's.  Then,  spurred  by  a  significant 
look,  the  much  daring  Cardinal  said  to  the  King: 

"Is  it  your  Majcsty's  goodwill  that  we  should  proceed 
without  madame  your  mother?" 

Francis,  not  daring  to  hâve  an  opinion  of  his  own,  re- 
plied  : 

"Gentlemen,  be  seated." 

The  Cardinal  briefly  pointed  out  the  dangers  of  the  situa- 
tion. This  great  politician,  who  showed  astounding  skill 
in  this  business,  broached  the  question  of  the  lieutenancy 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  129 

amid  utter  silence.  The  young  King  was,  no  doubt,  con- 
scioiis  of  an  awkwardness,  and  guessed  that  his  mother  had 
a  real  sensé  of  the  rights  of  the  Crown,  and  a  knowledge  of 
the  danger  that  threatened  his  power,  for  he  replied  to  a 
direct  question  on  the  Cardinal's  part: 

"We  will  wait  for  my  mother." 

Enlightcncd  by  this  inexplicable  delay  on  Queen  Cath- 
erine's  part,  Mary  Stuart  suddenly  recallcd  in  a  single  flash 
of  thought  three  incidents  which  were  clear  in  lier  memory. 
In  the  first  place,  the  bulk  of  the  packet  presented  to  her 
mother-in-law,  which  she  had  seen,  though  so  inattentive  at 
the  moment  (for  a  woman  who  seems  to  see  nothing  is  still 
a  lynx),  thcn  the  place  where  Christophe  had  carried  them 
to  separate  them  from  hers. 

"Why?"  she  said  to  herself.  And  then  she  remembered 
the  boy's  cold  look,  which  she  at  once  ascribed  to  the  Re- 
formers'  hatred  of  the  Guises'  nièce.  A  voice  within  her  cried, 
"Is  he  not  an  envoy  from  the  Huguenots?" 

Acting,  as  ail  hasty  persons  do,  on  the  first  impulse,  she  ex- 
claimed: 

"I  myself  will  go  and  fetch  my  mother." 

She  rushed  away  and  down  the  stairs,  to  the  great  amaze- 
ment  of  the  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the  Court.  She  went 
down  to  her  mother-in-law's  rooms,  crossed  the  guardroom, 
opened  the  door  of  the  bedroom  as  stealthily  as  a  thief,  crept 
noiselessly  over  the  carpet  as  silently  as  a  shadow,  and  could 
eee  her  nowhere.  Then  she  thought  she  could  surprise  her  in 
the  splendid  private  room  between  the  bedroom  and  the 
oratory.  The  arrangement  of  this  oratory  is  perfectly  recog- 
nizable  to  this  day;  the  fashion  of  the  time  then  allowed 
it  to  serve  ail  the  purposes  in  private  life  which  are  now 
served  by  a  boudoir. 

By  a  pièce  of  good-fortune,  quite  unaccountable  when  we 
see  in  how  squalid  a  state  the  Crown  bas  left  this  château, 
the  beautiful  paneling  of  Catherine's  closct  exists  to  this  day; 
in  the  fine  carving  the  curious  may  still  discern  traces  of 


ino  AHOUT  CATHEKIMO   DIO'   MEDICI 

Italiaii  niaguilic'c'iicv,  ami  discovcr  thc  lûding-placcs  thc 
Qik'on-inotlu'r  liad  conlrived  thcre. 

A  soniewlmt  exact  description  of  thèse  curiosities  is  in- 
deed  indispensable  to  a  eonij)reliensiou  of  the  scène  that  took 
j)lace  thcre.  The  woodwork  at  that  tinie  consisted  of  about  a 
liundred  and  eighty  sniall  oblon<;  panels,  of  which  a  hundrcd 
or  so  still  remain,  each  carved  with  a  différent  desij^n,  ob- 
viously  suggested  by  the  niost  élégant  Italian  arabesques. 
The  wood  is  holm-oak;  the  red  grountl  which  is  fouud  under 
the  coat  of  limcwash,  applied  at  the  tinie  of  the  choiera — a 
quite  useless  précaution — sliows  plainly  that  thèse  panels 
were  gilt;  and  in  spots  where  the  whitewash  has  rubbed  ofï 
we  see  that  sonie  portions  of  the  design  were  in  color,  blue, 
red,  or  green  against  the  gold  background.  The  nuniber  of 
thèse  panels  shows  an  évident  intention  to  chcat  investiga- 
tion; but  if  there  could  be  a  doubt,  the  kceper  of  the  château, 
while  holding  up  Catherine's  memory  to  the  exécration  of 
ail  living  men,  shows  to  visitors,  at  the  bottom  of  the  panel- 
ing,  and  on  a  level  with  thc  floor,  a  somcwhat  heavy  skirting 
which  can  be  raised,  and  under  which  there  are  a  number 
of  ingenious  springs.  By  pressing  a  knob  thus  concealed, 
the  Queen  could  open  certain  of  thèse  panels,  known  to  her 
alone,  behind  which  lay  a  hiding-place  of  the  same  oblong 
shape  as  the  panels,  but  of  varying  depth.  To  this  day  a 
practised  hand  would  find  it  difficult  to  detect  which  of  thèse 
panels  would  open  on  its  invisible  hinges;  and  when  the  eye 
was  diverted  by  the  skilfully  combined  colors  and  gilding 
that  covered  the  cracks,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  discover  one  or  two  panels  among  nearly  two 
hundred. 

At  the  moment  when  Mary  Stuart  laid  her  hand  on  the 
somewhat  elaborate  latch  of  the  door  to  the  closet,  the  Italian 
Queen,  having  convinced  herself  already  of  the  importance 
of  the  Prince  de  Condé  schemes,  had  just  pressed  the  spring 
hidden  by  the  skirting,  one  of  the  panels  had  fallen  open, 
and  Catherine  had  tumed  to  the  table  to  take  up  the  papers 
and  hide  them,  to  tum  her  attention  to  the  safeguard  of 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  131 

the  devoted  messenger  who  had  brought  them  to  her.  When 
she  heard  the  door  open,  she  at  once  guessed  that  no  one  but 
Queen  Mary  would  venture  to  corne  in  unannounced. 

"You  are  lost,"  she  said  to  Christophe,  seeing  that  she 
could  ncither  hide  the  papers  nor  close  the  panel  promptly 
enough  to  préserve  the  secret  of  hcr  hiding-place. 

Christophe's  only  reply  was  a  sublime  look. 

"Povero  mio!"  said  Catherine,  before  tuming  to  her 
daughter-in-law,  "Treason,  madame!"  she  exclaimed.  "I 
hâve  them  f ast  !  Send  for  the  Cardinal  and  the  Duke.  And 
be  sure,"  she  added,  pointing  to  Christophe,  "that  this  fellow 
does  not  escape  !" 

Thus  in  an  instant  this  masterful  woman  saw  that  it  would 
be  necessary  to  give  up  the  hapless  young  man  ;  she  could  not 
hide  him,  it  was  impossible  to  help  him  to  escape;  and  be- 
sides,  though  a  week  ago  he  might  bave  been  saved,  now  the 
Guises  had,  since  that  morning,  been  aware  of  the  conspiracy, 
and  they  too  must  bave  the  lists  which  she  held  in  her  hand, 
and  were  drawing  ail  the  Reformers  into  a  trap.  And  so, 
pleased  at  finding  her  adversaries  in  the  mind  she  had  hoped 
for,  now  that  the  plot  had  become  known,  policy  required 
her  to  assume  the  merit  of  discovering  it. 

Thèse  dreadful  considérations  flashed  through  her  mind 
in  the  brief  moment  while  the  young  Queen  was  opening  the 
door.  Mary  Stuart  stood  silent  for  an  instant.  Her  expres- 
sion lost  its  brightness  and  assumed  that  keenness  which  sus- 
picion always  gives  the  eye,  and  which  in  her  was  terrible  by 
the  sudden  contrast.  She  looked  from  Christophe  to  the 
Queen-mother,  and  from  the  Queen-mother  to  Christophe, 
with  a  glance  of  malignant  doubt.  Then  she  snatched  up  a 
bell,  which  brought  in  one  of  Catherine's  maids  of  honor. 

"Mademoiselle  du  Rouet,  send  in  the  captain  of  the  Guard," 
said  Mary  Stuart,  in  breach  of  every  law  of  étiquette,  neces- 
sarily  set  aside  in  such  circumstances. 

While  the  young  Queen  gave  her  order,  Catherine  stood 
looking  at  Christophe,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Courage  !"  The 
young  Reformer  understood,  and  replied  by  an  expression 
which  conveyed,  "Sacrifice  me,  as  they  hâve  sacrifîeed  me!" 


132  AROUT  CATIIKUIXE  DE'   MEDICI 

*'Put  vo\ir  trust  in  im>."  CathcriTu.'  ans^vo^Hl  by  a  gcsture. 

ThfU  wlion  lier  dau«îhtor-in-1aw  tiiniod  upon  lier,  she  was 
doeply  cngaged  in  exaniining  the  papers. 

"You  aro  of  the  Keformed  religion?"  said  Mary  Stuart 
to  Christophe. 

*'Yes,  niadanic" 

"Then  1  was  not  niistakon,"  she  muttercd  to  hcrsclf,  as  she 
rcad  in  the  yoiing  man's  eyes  the  samc  expression  in  which 
coldness  and  aversion  lurked  behind  a  look  of  humility. 

Pardaillan  appeared  at  once,  sent  down  by  the  two  Princes 
of  Lorraine  and  the  King.  The  captain  sent  for  by  ^lary 
Stuart  followcd  this  young  man — a  most  devoted  adhèrent  of 
the  Guises. 

"Go  from  me  to  the  King,  beg  him,  witli  tlie  Cardinal 
and  the  Grand  Master,  to  corne  hère  at  once,  and  tell  them 
I  would  not  take  such  a  liberty  but  that  something  of 
scrious  importance  bas  occurred. — Go,  Pardaillan. — And 
you,  Lewiston,  koep  guard  over  this  Reformed  traitor,"  she 
added  to  the  Scotchman  in  their  native  tongue,  pointing  to 
Christophe. 

The  two  Queens  did  not  speak  till  the  King  came.  It 
was  a  terrible  pause.  Mary  Stuart  had  shown  her  mother- 
in-law  the  whole  extent  of  the  part  her  unclcs  made  her 
play  ;  her  unsleeping  and  habituai  distrust  stood  revealed  ; 
and  her  youthful  conscience  felt  how  disgraceful  such  a  part 
must  be  to  a  great  Queen.  Catherine,  on  her  side,  had  be- 
trayed  herself  in  her  alarm,  and  feared  that  she  had  been 
understood  ;  she  was  trembling  for  the  future.  The  two 
women,  one  ashamed  and  furious,  the  other  vicious  but  calm, 
withdrew  into  the  window  bay,  one  leaning  on  the  right  side, 
the  other  on  the  left;  but  their  looks  were  so  expressive,  that 
each  turned  away,  and  with  a  common  instinct  looked  out 
of  the  window  at  the  sky.  Thèse  two  women,  élever  as  they 
were,  at  that  moment  had  no  more  wit  than  the  commonest. 
Perhaps  it  is  always  so  when  circumstances  overpower  men. 
There  is  always  a  moment  when  even  genius  is  conscious  of 
its  smallness  in  the  présence  of  a  great  catastrophe. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  133 

As  for  Christophe,  he  felt  like  a  man  falling  into  an  abyss. 
Lewiston,  the  Scotch  captain,  listened  to  the  silence,  looking 
at  the  furrier's  son  and  the  two  Queens  with  a  soldier's 
curiosity.  The  King's  entrance  put  an  end  to  this  painful 
situation. 

The  Cardinal  went  straight  up  to  Queen  Catherine. 

"I  hâve  in  my  hand  ail  the  threads  of  the  plot  hatched 
by  the  heretics  ;  they  sent  this  boy  to  me  carrying  this  treaty 
and  thèse  documents,"  said  Catherine  in  an  undertone. 

While  Catherine  was  explaining  matters  to  the  Cardinal, 
Queen  Mary  was  speaking  a  few  words  in  the  Grand  Master's 
ear. 

"What  is  this  ail  about  ?"  asked  the  young  King,  standing 
alone  amid  this  conflict  of  violent  interests. 

"The  proofs  of  what  I  was  telling  your  Majesty  are  already 
to  hand,"  said  the  Cardinal,  seizing  the  papers. 

The  Due  de  Guise,  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  he  was  in- 
terrupting  him,  drew  his  brother  aside  and  said  in  a  whisper  : 

"This  then  makes  me  Lieutenant-General  without  any  op- 
position." 

A  keen  glanée  was  the  Cardinal's  only  reply,  by  which 
he  conveyed  to  his  brother  that  he  had  already  appreciated 
the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  Catherine's  false  position. 

"Who  sent  you  ?"  asked  the  Duke  of  Christophe. 

"Chaudieu  the  preacher,"  he  replied. 

"Young  man,  you  lie,"  said  the  Duke  roughly.  "It  was  the 
Prince  de  Condé." 

"The  Prince  de  Condé,  monseigneur,"  replied  Christophe, 
with  a  look  of  surprise.  "I  never  saw  him.  I  belong  to 
the  Palais.  I  am  working  under  Monsieur  de  Thou.  I  am 
his  clerk,  and  he  does  not  know  that  I  hâve  joined  the  re- 
ligion.   I  only  submitted  to  the  preacher's  entreaties." 

"That  will  do,"  said  the  Cardinal.— "Call  Monsieur  de 
Eobertet,"  he  added  to  Lewiston,  "for  this  young  villain  is 
craftier  than  old  politicians.  He  has  taken  us  in,  my  brother 
and  me,  when  we  should  bave  given  him  the  Host  without 
confession." 


184  ABOUT  CATIIEIUNK  ÏMV   MlODHJl 

"Yoli  arc  iio  cliikl,  hy  llcavcii  !"  crud  llie  Duke,  "and  you 
Bhall  bo  treated  as  a  inan." 

"Thcy  hopcd  to  wiu  over  your  august  inothcr,"  said  tlie 
Cardinal,  turning  to  tho  Kin<^,  and  Irying  lo  Icad  liini  asidc 
to  bring  liim  to  liis  way  of  thinkin<^. 

"Alas  !"  replied  Catliorini",  s})eaking  to  lier  son  wiili  a 
roproaehful  air,  and  stoppiiig  hini  jiist  as  thc  Cardinal  was 
takiug  hini  into  the  oratory  to  subjiigalc  liini  witli  daiigcrous 
éloquence,  "you  hère  see  the  efTect  of  the  position  1  am  placed 
in.  I  ani  supposcd  to  rebel  against  iiiy  lack  of  influence  in 
public  alTairs — I,  the  niother  of  four  j)rinces  of  the  llouse  of 
Valois." 

The  young  King  prepared  to  listen.  Mary  Stuart,  sceing 
his  brow  knit,  led  him  off  into  the  window  recess,  where  she 
cajoled  him  with  gentle  speeches  in  a  low  voice;  much  the 
saine,  no  doubt,  as  those  she  had  lavished  on  him  when  he 
rose. 

The  two  brothers  meanwhile  read  the  papers  handed  over. 
to  them  by  the  Queen-mother.  Finding  in  them  much  in- 
formation of  which  their  spies  and  Monsieur  de  Braguelonne, 
the  govcrnor  of  the  Châtolet,  knew  nothing,  they  were  in- 
clined  to  bclieve  in  Cathcrine's  good  faith.  Robcrtot  came  in 
and  had  private  instructions  with  regard  to  Christophe.  The 
hapless  tool  of  the  leaders  of  the  Eeformation  was  led  away 
by  four  men  of  the  Scotch  Guard,  who  took  him  downstairs 
and  handed  him  over  to  Monsieur  de  Montrcsor,  the  Provost 
of  the  château.  This  terrible  personage  himself  escorted 
Christophe  with  fîve  or  six  sergeants  to  the  prison  situated 
in  the  vaulted  cellars  of  the  now  ruincd  tower,  which  the 
verger  of  the  château  of  Blois  shows  the  visiter,  and  says 
that  thèse  were  the  oubliettes. 

After  such  an  event  the  Council  could  only  he  an  empty 
form:  the  King,  the  young  Queen,  thc  Grand  Master,  and 
the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  went  back  to  the  council-roora, 
taking  with  them  Catherine,  quite  conquered,  who  only  spoke 
to  approve  of  the  measures  demanded  by  the  Guises.  In  spite 
of  some  slight  opposition  on  the  part   of  the   Chancelier 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI  135 

Olivier,  tlie  only  person  to  utter  a  word  suggesting  the  inde- 
pendence  needful  to  the  exercise  of  his  functions,  the  Due  de 
Guise  was  appointed  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom. 
Eobertet  carried  tlie  motions  with  a  promptitude  arguing  such 
dévotion  as  might  be  well  called  complicity. 

The  King,  with  his  mother  on  his  arm,  once  more  crossed 
the  guardroom,  and  announced  to  the  Court  that  he  proposed 
to  move  to  Amboise  on  the  following  day.  This  royal  rési- 
dence had  been  unused  since  Charles  YIII.  had  very  invol- 
untarily  killed  hiniself  there  by  striking  his  head  against  the 
pediment  of  a  door  that  was  being  carved  for  him,  believing 
that  he  could  pass  under  the  seaffolding  without  bending  his 
head.  Catherine,  to  mask  the  schemes  of  the  Guises,  had 
announced  lier  intention  of  finishing  the  château  of  Amboise 
on  behalf  of  the  Crown  at  the  same  time  as  her  own  château 
of  Chenonceaux.  But  no  one  was  deceived  by  this  pretence, 
and  the  Court  anticipated  strange  events. 

After  spending  about  two  hours  in  accustoming  himself 
to  the  darkness  of  his  dungeon,  Christophe  found  that  it  was 
lined  with  boards,  clums}^  indeed,  but  thiek  enough  to  make 
the  square  box  healthy  and  habitable.  The  door,  like  that 
into  a  pig-sty,  had  compelled  him  to  bend  double  to  get  into 
it.  On  one  side  of  this  trap  a  strong  iron  grating  admitted  a 
little  air  and  light  from  the  passage.  This  arrangement,  ex- 
actly  like  that  of  the  crypts  at  Venice,  showed  very  plainly 
that  the  architect  of  the  château  of  Blois  belonged  to  the 
Venetian  school,  which  gave  so  many  builders  to  Europe  in 
the  Middle  Ages.  By  sounding  the  walls  above  the  woodwork, 
Christophe  discovered  that  the  two  walls  which  divided  this 
cell  from  two  others,  to  the  right  and  left,  were  built  of  brick; 
and  as  he  knocked,  to  estimate  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  he 
was  not  a  little  surprised  to  heat  some  one  knocking  on  the 
other  side. 

''Who  are  you  ?"  asked  his  neighbor,  speaking  into  the  cor- 
ridor. 

"I  am  Christophe  Lecamus." 


136  AROUT  CATnEniXE  DE'  MEDICI 

*'Aiul  I."  said  tlK'  otiior  voiee,  "ain  Caplaiii  Chaiuliou.  I 
was  oaught  tins  evening  at  Boaugency;  but,  liappily,  Ihcre 
is  nothing  against  me." 

"Evorvthing  is  discovcrcd,"  said  Christophe;  "so  you  are 
savod  froni  the  worst  of  it." 

"We  hâve  thrce  thousand  mon  at  tliis  présent  tiine  in  the 
forests  of  Vendômois,  ail  mon  detcrniined  enough  to  seize 
the  Queen-mothcr  and  the  King  on  their  journey.  Iîaj)pily, 
la  Renaudie  was  cleverer  than  I;  he  escaped.  You  had  just 
set  out  whcn  the  Cuisards  caught  us." 

"But  I  know  nothing  of  la  lienaudie." 

'Tooh  !  my  brother  told  me  everything/'  replied  the  cap- 
tain. 

On  hearing  this,  Christophe  went  back  to  his  bcnch  and 
made  no  further  reply  to  anything  the  so-called  captain 
could  say  to  him,  for  he  liad  had  enough  expérience  of  the 
law  to  know  how  necessary  it  was  to  be  cautions  in  prison. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  he  saw  the  pale  gleam  of  a 
lantem  in  the  passage,  after  hearing  the  unlocking  of  the 
pondérons  bolts  that  closed  the  iron  door  of  the  cellar.  The 
provost  himself  had  corne  to  fctch  Christophe.  This  atten- 
tion to  a  man  who  had  been  left  in  the  dungeon  without  food 
struck  Christophe  as  strange;  but  the  upset  at  Court  had, 
no  doubt,  led  to  his  being  forgotten.  One  of  the  provost's 
sergeants  bound  his  hands  with  a  cord,  which  he  held  till 
thev  had  reached  one  of  the  low  rooms  in  Louis  XII.'s  part 
of  the  chcâteau,  which  evidently  was  the  ante-room  to  the 
apartments  of  sorae  person  of  importance.  The  sergeant  and 
the  provost  bid  him  be  seatcd  on  a  bench,  where  the  sergeant 
tied  his  feet  as  he  had  already  tied  his  hands.  At  a  sign  f rom 
Monsieur  de  Montrésor,  the  sergeant  then  left  them. 

"Xow  listen  to  me,  my  young  friend,"  said  the  provost  to 
Christophe,  and  the  lad  observed  that  he  was  in  full  dress  at 
that  hour  of  the  night,  for  his  fîngers  fidgeted  with  the  collar 
of  his  Order.  This  circumstance  made  the  fumer's  son 
thoughtful;  he  saw  that  there  was  more  to  eome.  At  this 
moment,  certainly,  they  could  not  be  going  either  to  try  him 
or  to  hang  him. 


ABODT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  137 

*T^Iy  young  friend,  you  may  spare  yourself  much  suffering 
by  telling  me  hère  and  now  ail  you  know  of  the  communica- 
tions between  Queen  Catherine  and  Monsieur  de  Condé. 
Not  only  will  you  not  be  hurt,  but  you  will  be  taken  into 
the  service  of  Monseigneur,  the  Lieutenant-General  of  the 
kingdom,  who  likes  intelligent  people,  and  who  was  favorably 
impressed  by  your  looks.  The  Queen-mother  is  to  be  packed 
off  to  Florence,  and  Monsieur  de  Condé  will  no  doubt  stand 
bis  trial.  So,  take  my  word  for  it,  sraall  men  will  do  well 
to  attach  themselves  to  the  great  men  in  power. — Tell  me 
everything,  and  it  will  be  to  your  advantage." 

"Alas,  monsieur,"  replied  Christophe,  "I  bave  nothing  to 
say.  I  bave  confessed  ail  I  know  to  Messieurs  de  Guise  in 
the  Queen's  room.  Chaudieu  persuaded  me  to  place  those 
papers  in  the  hands  of  the  Queen-mother,  by  making  me  be- 
lieve  that  the  peace  of  the  country  was  involved." 

"You  never  saw  the  Prince  de  Condé?" 

"Never,"  said  Christophe. 

Thereupon  Monsieur  de  Montrésor  left  Christophe  and 
went  into  an  adjoining  room. 

Christophe  was  not  long  left  to  himself.  The  door  by 
which  he  had  entered  soon  opened  for  several  men  to  pass  in, 
who  did  not  shut  it,  letting  varions  far  from  pleasant  sounds 
come  in  from  the  courtyard.  Blocks  of  wood  and  instru- 
ments were  brought  in,  evidently  intended  to  torture  the 
Reformers'  messenger.  Christophe's  curiosity  soon  found 
matter  for  reflection  in  the  préparations  the  newcomers  were 
making  under  bis  very  eyes.  Two  coarse  and  poorly-clad 
varlets  obeyed  the  orders  of  a  powerful  and  thick-set  man, 
who,  on  coming  in,  had  a  look  at  Christophe  like  that  of  a 
cannibal  at  his  victim  ;  he  had  scrutinized  him  from  head  to 
foot,  taking  stock  of  his  sinews,  of  their  strength  and  power 
of  résistance,  with  the  calculating  eye  of  a  connoisseur.  This 
man  was  the  Blois  executioner.  Backwards  and  forwards 
several  times,  his  men  brought  in  a  mattress,  wooden  wedges, 
planks,  and  other  objects,  of  which  the  use  seemed  neither 
obvions  nor  hopeful  to  the  unhappy  boy  for  whom  the  prepa- 


188  ABOUT  CATIIEIUNK  DE'   MIODK^I 

rations  worc  bcing  iiuulo,  nnd  wliosc  blood  ran  cold  in  lus  veins 
with  approliension,  whieh  thou^h  va^uc  was  appallin^.  ^Fwo 
(MIut  mon  came  in  wlu'ii  Monsieur  do  ]\tontrt'sor  rcappcarcd. 

"W'iiat,  is  nothing  roady  yet  ?"  said  tlic  chicf  provosl,  to 
wlioiu  tho  Iwo  ncwconicrs  bowod  respect  fully.  ''J)o  you  know," 
li(>  weut  on  to  thc  big  man  and  his  two  satellites,  "tliat  Mon- 
sieur le  Cardinal  sujiposes  you  to  be  getting  on  with  your 
work? — Doctor,"  bc  added,  turning  to  one  of  Ibc  nevvcomers, 
"bore  is  your  man,"  and  be  pointed  to  Cbristopbe. 

Tbe  doctor  went  up  to  tbc  prisoner,  untied  bis  bands,  and 
sounded  his  back  and  cbcst.  Science  quite  seriously  repcated 
tbe  torturcr's  investigation.  ^Meanwbilc,  a  servant  in  tbc 
livcry  of  tbe  Ilouse  of  Guise  brougbt  in  several  cbairs,  a  table, 
and  ail  tbc  materials  for  writing. 

''Begin  your  report,"  said  ]\lonsicur  de  Montrésor  to  tbc 
second  pcrson  wbo  bad  corne  in,  dressed  in  black,  wbo  was  a 
clcrk. 

Then  he  came  back  to  stand  by  Christophe,  to  whom  hc  said 
very  mildly  : 

"My  boy,  tbe  Chancellor,  having  learned  that  you  refuse  to 
give  satisfactory  replies  to  my  questions,  bas  decided  that 
you  must  be  put  to  tbe  torture — ordinary  and  extraordinary." 

"Is  he  in  good  health,  and  can  he  bear  it  ?"  the  clerk  asked 
of  the  doctor. 

"Tes,"  said  the  man  of  medicine,  a  physician  attached  to 
the  Ilouse  of  Lorraine. 

"^Vell,  then,  retire  to  the  adjoining  room  ;  we  will  send  for 
you  if  it  is  necessary  to  consult  you." 

The  physician  left  the  room. 

His  tirst  panic  past,  Christophe  collected  ail  his  courage. 
The  hour  of  bis  martyrdom  was  conie.  Ile  now  looked  on 
with  cold  curiosity  at  the  arrangements  made  by  the  execu- 
tioner  and  his  varlcts.  After  hastily  making  up  a  bed,  they 
proceeded  to  prépare  a  machine  called  tbe  boot,  consisting  of 
boards,  between  which  cach  leg  of  the  victim  was  placed, 
surrounded  with  pads.  Thc  machinery  used  by  bookbinders 
to  press  the  volumes  between  two  boards,  which  they  tighten 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  139 

with  cords,  will  give  a  very  exact  idea  of  thc  way  in  which 
each  leg  was  encased.  It  is  easy,  then,  to  imagine  the  effect 
of  a  wedge  driven  home  by  a  mallet  between  the  two  cases 
in  which  the  legs  were  confined,  and  which,  being  tightly 
bound  with  rope,  could  not  yield.  Thc  wedges  were  driven 
in  at  the  knecs  and  ankles,  as  if  to  split  a  log  of  wood.  The 
choice  of  thèse  two  spots  where  there  is  least  flesh,  and  where, 
in  conséquence,  the  wedge  found  room  at  the  expense  of  the 
bones,  made  this  form  of  torture  horribly  painful.  In  or- 
dinary  torture  four  wedges  were  driven  in — two  at  the  knees 
and  two  at  the  ankles;  in  extraordinary  torture  as  many  as 
eight  were  employed,  if  the  physician  pronounced  that  the 
victim's  powers  of  endurance  were  not  exhausted. 

At  this  period  the  boots  were  also  applied  to  the  hands  ;  but 
as  time  pressed,  the  Cardinal,  the  Lieutenant-General  of  the 
kingdom,  and  the  Chancelier  spared  Christophe  this. 

The  preamble  to  the  examination  was  written  ;  the  provost 
himself  had  dictated  a  few  sentences,  walking  about  the  room 
with  a  méditative  air,  and  requiring  Christophe  to  tell  him 
his  name — Christian  name — âge,  and  profession;  then  he 
asked  him  from  whom  he  had  received  the  papers  he  had 
delivered  to  the  Queen. 

"From  Chaudieu  the  minister,"  said  he. 

*^Vhere  did  he  give  them  to  you?" 

"At  my  own  home  in  Paris." 

'^""hen  he  handed  them  to  you,  he  must  hâve  told  you 
whether  the  Queen-mother  would  receive  you  well." 

"He  told  me  nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  Christophe. 
"He  only  desired  me  to  give  them  secretly  to  Queen  Cath- 
erine." 

"Then  bave  you  often  seen  Chaudieu,  that  he  knew  that 
you  were  coming  hère  ?" 

"It  was  not  from  me  that  he  heard  that  I  was  to  carry  the 
furs  to  the  two  Queens,  and  at  the  same  time  to  ask  in  my 
fathei''s  behalf  for  the  money  owed  him  by  the  Queen-mother  ; 
nor  had  I  time  to  ask  him  who  had  told  him." 

"But  those  papers,  given  to  you  without  any  wrapper  or 


140  AHOTT  rATIIEniNE   DE"   MEDICI 

scal,  contnin  a  troaly  botwccn  thc  rcbcls  and  Quccn  Catherine. 
You  ;nii?t  liavc  known  that  Ihoy  oxposed  you  to  thc  risk  of 
sutTi'ring  tho  punisluncnt  dcalt  ont  to  Ihosc  who  arc  impli- 
catod  in  a  rébellion." 

"Yes." 

"The  pcrsons  who  induccd  you  to  commit  an  act  of  high 
treason  must  havo  promiscd  you  somc  rcward  and  thc  Quccn- 
mothor's  patronage." 

"1  did  it  ont  of  attachaient  to  Chaudieu,  thc  only  pcrson 
I  saw." 

"Then  you  pcrsist  in  dcclaring  that  you  did  not  see  the 
Prince  de  Condé?" 

"Yes." 

"Did  not  the  Prince  de  Condc  tell  you  that  thc  Quccn- 
mother  was  inclined  to  enter  into  his  views  in  antagonism 
to  the  Guises?" 

"I  did  not  see  him." 

"Take  care.  One  of  your  accompliccs,  la  Eenaudie,  is 
arrested.  Strong  as  he  is,  he  could  not  resist  the  torture 
that  awaits  you,  and  at  last  confessed  that  he,  as  well  as  the 
Prince,  had  had  speech  with  you.  If  you  wish  to  escape  the 
anguish  of  torture,  I  beg  you  to  tell  the  simple  truth.  Then 
perhaps  3'ou  may  win  your  pardon." 

Christophe  replied  that  he  could  not  tell  anything  of  which 
he  had  no  knowledge,  nor  betray  accomplices,  when  he  had 
none.  On  hearing  this,  the  provost  nodded  to  the  execu- 
tioner,  and  went  back  into  the  adjoining  room. 

On  seeing  this,  Christophe  knit  his  brows,  wrinkling  his 
forehead  with  a  nervous  spasm,  and  preparing  to  endure.  He 
clenched  his  fists  with  such  a  rigid  clutch  that  the  nails  ran 
into  the  flesh  without  his  feeling  it.  The  three  men  took  hira 
up,  carried  him  to  the  camp  bed,  and  laid  him  there,  his  legs 
hanging  down.  While  the  executioner  tied  him  fast  with 
stout  ropes,  his  two  men  each  fitted  a  leg  into  a  boot;  the 
cords  were  tightened  by  means  of  a  wrench  without  giving 
the  victim  any  great  pain.  When  each  leg  was  thus  held  in 
a  vise,  the  executioner  took  up  his  mallet  and  his  wedges,  and 
looked  alternately  at  the  sufEerer  and  the  clerk. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  141 

"Do  you  persist  in  your  déniai  ?"  said  the  clerk. 

"I  hâve  told  the  truth,"  replied  Christophe. 

"Then  go  on,"  said  the  clerk,  shutting  his  eyes. 

The  cords  wero  tightened  to  the  utmost,  and  this  moment, 
perhaps,  was  the  most  agonizing  of  ail  the  torture;  the  flesh 
was  so  suddenly  compressed  that  the  blood  was  violently 
thrown  back  into  the  trunk.  The  poor  boy  could  not  help 
screaming  terribly;  he  seemed  about  to  faint.  The  doctor 
was  called  back.  He  felt  Christophe's  puise,  and  desired  the 
executioner  to  wait  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  driving 
in  the  wedges,  to  give  time  for  the  blood  to  recover  its  circu- 
lation and  sensation  to  return. 

The  clerk  charitably  told  Christophe  that  if  he  could  not 
better  endure  even  the  beginnings  of  the  sufîering  he  could 
not  escape,  he  would  do  better  to  reveal  ail  he  knew;  but 
Christophe's  only  reply  was  : 

"The  King's  tailor!  the  King's  tailor!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  saying  that  ?"  asked  the  clerk. 

"Foreseeing  the  torments  I  shall  go  through,"  said  Chris- 
tophe, slowly,  to  gain  time  and  to  rest,  "I  am  summoning  ail 
my  strength,  and  tr}'ing  to  reinforce  it  by  remembering  the 
martyrdom  endured  for  the  sacred  cause  of  the  Eeformation 
by  the  late  King's  tailor,  who  was  tortured  in  the  présence 
of  the  King  and  of  Madame  de  Valentinois;  I  will  try  to  be 
worthy  of  him  !" 

While  the  physician  was  advising  the  hapless  man  not  to 
drive  his  torturers  to  extremities,  the  Cardinal  and  the  Duke, 
impatient  to  know  the  results  of  this  examination,  came  in 
and  desired  Christophe  to  reveal  the  truth  at  once.  The 
furrier's  son  repeated  the  only  confession  he  would  allow  him- 
self  to  make,  implicating  nobody  but  Chaudieu. 

The  Princes  nodded.  On  this,  the  executioner  and  his 
foreman  seized  their  mallets,  each  took  a  wedge  and  drove 
it  home  between  the  boots,  one  standing  on  the  right,  and  the 
other  on  the  left.  The  executioner  stood  at  the  knees,  the 
assistant  at  the  ankles,  opposite.  The  eyes  of  the  witnesses 
of  this  hideous  act  were  fixed  on  Christophe's,  who,  çxçited 


\V2  AHOUT  CA'rmOKIXE   PF/   MIODICI 

no  (îoubt  by  the  présence  of  thèse  grand  personagos,  flnshcd 
sucli  a  look  at  tliem  that  his  oyos  sparklcd  like  ilaine. 

At  the  two  next  wedges  a  horrible  groan  escaped  hiiii. 
Theu  when  he  saw  the  nien  (ake  up  the  wedges  for  the 
sevcrer  torture,  he  reniained  silent;  but  his  ga2C  assumed  such 
dreadful  tîxity,  and  ilashcd  at  the  two  Princes  such  a  piercing 
mai^netic  iîuid,  that  the  Duke  and  the  Cardinal  were  both 
obliged  to  look  down.  Philippe  le  Bel  had  expcricnccd  the 
sanie  defeat  whcn  he  prcsided  at  the  torture  by  hanimer,  in- 
tlicted  in  his  présence  on  the  Teinplars.  This  consisted  in 
hitting  the  victira  on  the  chest  with  onc  anii  of  the  balanced 
hammer  used  to  coin  nioncy,  which  was  covered  with  a 
Icather  pad.  Thcre  was  one  knight  whose  eyes  were  so  fixed 
on  the  King  that  he  was  fascinated,  and  could  not  take  his 
gaze  oiï  the  sufferer.  At  the  third  blow  the  King  rose  and 
went  away,  after  hearing  himsclf  called  upon  to  appcar  before 
the  judgment  of  God  within  a  yoar — as  he  did. 

At  the  fifth  wedge,  the  first  of  the  greater  torture,  Chris- 
tophe said  to  the  Cardinal  : 

"Cut  my  miseiy  short,  monseigneur;  it  is  uscless." 

Tho  Cardinal  and  the  Duke  withdrew,  and  Christophe 
could  hear  from  the  next  room  thèse  words,  spoken  by 
Quecn  Catherine: 

"Go  on,  go  on  ;  after  ail,  he  is  only  a  heretic  !" 

She  thought  it  prudent  to  appear  more  severe  to  her  ac- 
complice  than  his  executioners  were. 

The  sixth  and  seventh  wedge  were  driven  in,  and  Chris- 
tophe complaincd  no  more,  his  face  shone  with  a  strange 
radiance,  due,  no  doubt,  to  the  immense  strength  he  derived 
from  fanatical  excitement.  In  what  else  but  in  fecling  can 
we  hope  to  find  the  fulcrum  enabling  a  man  to  endure  such 
anguish?  At  last,  when  the  executioner  was  about  to  insert 
the  eighth  wedge,  Christophe  smiled.  This  dreadful  torment 
had  lasted  one  hour. 

The  clerk  went  to  fetch  the  leech,  to  know  whether  the 
eighth  wedge  could  be  driven  in  without  endangering  the 
sufferer's  life.  The  Duke  meanwhile  came  in  again  to  see 
Christophe. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  143 

"By  our  Lady  !  you  are  a  fine  fellow,"  said  he,  leaning  down 
to  speak  in  his  ear.  "I  likc  a  brave  man.  Enter  my  service, 
you  shall  be  happy  and  rich,  my  favors  will  heal  your  bruised 
limbs;  I  will  ask  you  to  do  nothing  cowardly,  like  rejoining 
your  own  party  to  betray  their  plans  ;  there  are  always  plenty 
of  traitors,  and  the  proof  is  to  be  found  in  the  prisons  of  Blois. 
Only  tell  me  on  what  terms  are  the  Queen-mother  and  the 
Prince  de  Condc." 

"I  know  nothing  about  it,  monseigneur,"  cried  Lecamus. 

The  doctor  came  in,  examined  the  victim,  and  pronounced 
that  he  could  bear  the  eighth  wedge. 

"Drive  it  in,"  said  the  Cardinal.  "After  ail,  as  the  Queen 
says,  he  is  only  a  heretic,"  he  added,  vs'ith  a  hideous  smile 
at  Christophe. 

Catherine  herself  slowly  came  in  from  the  adjoining  room, 
stood  in  front  of  Christophe,  and  gazed  at  him  coldly.  She 
was  the  object  of  attentive  scrutiny  to  the  two  brothers,  who 
looked  alternately  at  the  Queen-mother  and  her  accomplice. 
The  whole  future  lifc  of  this  ambitious  woman  depended  on 
this  solemn  scrutiny;  she  felt  the  greatest  admiration  for 
Christophe's  courage,  and  she  looked  at  him  sternly;  she 
hated  the  Guises,  and  she  smiled  upon  them. 

"Corne,"  said  she,  "young  man,  confess  that  you  saw  the 
Prince  de  Condé  ;  you  will  be  well  rewarded." 

"Oh,  madame,  what  a  part  you  are  playing  !"  cried  Chris- 
tophe, in  pity  for  her. 

The  Queen  started. 

"He  is  insulting  me  !  Is  he  not  to  be  hanged  ?"  said  she 
to  the  two  brothers,  who  stood  lost  in  thought. 

"What  a  woman  !"  cried  the  Grand  Master,  who  was  Con- 
sulting his  brother  in  the  window  recess. 

"I  will  stay  in  France  and  be  revenged,"  thought  the 
Queen.  "Proceed,  he  must  confess  or  let  him  die  !"  she  ex- 
claimed,  addressing  Monsieur  de  Montrésor. 

The  provost  turncd  away,  the  exeeutioners  were  busy,  Cath- 
erine had  an  opportunity  of  giving  the  martyr  a  look,  which 
no  one  else  saw,  and  which  fell  like  dew  on  Christophe.    The 


144  ABOrr  f'ATIIKUlXI':  DE'   MKDICI 

proat  Quoon's  cycs  sccmcd  to  glistcn  with  moisture;  they  wcre, 
in  fact,  full  of  Icnrs,  two  tcnrs  nt  once  roprcsscd  and  dry. 
Tho  wodgc  was  drivcn  home,  onc  of  Ihc  boards  botwoon  which 
it  was  inscrtcd  split.  Christophe  ntlercd  a  piercing  cry; 
thcn  his  face  becanio  radiant;  hc  Ihoughl  hc  was  dying. 

"Let  liiin  die,"  said  the  Cardinal,  echoing  Quccn  Cath- 
erinc's  words  with  a  sort  of  irony.  "No,  no,"  he  addcd  to 
the  provost,  "do  not  let  lis  lose  this  due." 

The  Duke  and  the  Cardinal  held  a  consultation  in  a  low 
voice. 

"What  is  to  bc  donc  with  him?"  asked  the  executioner. 

"Send  him  to  prison  at  Orléans,"  said  tho  Duke. — "And, 
above  ail,"  he  said  to  Monsieur  de  ^lontrésor,  "do  not  liang 
him  without  orders  from  me." 

The  excessive  sensitiveness  of  every  internai  organ,  strung 
to  the  highest  pitch  by  the  endurance  which  Avorkcd  upon 
every  nerve  in  his  f rame,  no  less  affected  every  sensé  in  Chris- 
tophe. He  alone  heard  thèse  words  spoken  by  the  Duc  de 
Guise  in  the  Cardinal's  car: 

"I  hâve  not  given  up  ail  hope  of  hearing  the  truth  from  this 
little  man." 

As  soon  as  the  two  Princes  had  left  the  room,  the  execu- 
tioners  unpacked  the  victim's  legs,  with  no  attempt  at  gentle 
handling. 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  criminal  with  such  fortitude?"  said 
the  head  man  to  his  assistants.  "The  rogue  has  lived  through 
the  infiiction  of  the  eighth  wedge  ;  he  ought  to  hâve  died.  I 
am  the  loser  of  the  price  of  his  body." 

"TJntie  me  without  hurting  me,  my  good  friends,"  said 
poor  Christophe.    "Some  day  I  will  reward  you." 

"Corne,  show  some  humanity,"  said  the  doctor.  "Mon- 
seigneur the  Duke  esteems  the  young  man,  and  commended 
him  to  my  care,"  cried  the  leech. 

"I  am  off  to  Amboise  with  my  men,"  said  the  executioner 
roughly.  "Take  care  of  him  yourself.  And  hère  is  the 
jailer." 

The  executioner  went  off,  leaving  Christophe  in  the  hands 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  145 

of  the  smooth-spoken  doctor,  who,  with  the  help  of  Chris- 
tophe's  warder,  lifted  him  on  to  a  bed,  gave  him  some  broth, 
which  he  made  him  swallow,  sat  down  by  his  side,  felt  his 
puise,  and  tried  to  comfort  him. 

"You  are  not  dying,"  he  said,  "and  you  must  feel  a  com- 
fort to  your  mind  when  you  reflect  that  you  hâve  done  your 
duty.  The  Queen  charged  me  to  take  good  eare  of  you,"  he 
added,  in  a  low  voice. 

"The  Queen  is  very  good,"  said  Christophe,  in  whom  acute 
anguish  had  developed  wonderful  lucidity  of  mind,  and  who, 
after  enduring  so  much,  was  determined  not  to  spoil  the 
results  of  his  dévotion.  "But  she  might  hâve  saved  me  so 
much  suffering  by  not  delivering  me  to  my  tormentors,  and 
by  telling  them  herself  the  secrets,  of  which  I  know  nothing." 

On  hearing  this  reply,  the  doctor  put  on  his  cap  and  cloak 
and  left  Christophe  to  his  fate,  thinking  it  vain  to  hope  to 
gain  anything  from  a  man  of  that  temper.  The  jailer  had 
the  poor  boy  carried  on  a  litter  by  four  men  to  the  town 
prison,  where  Christophe  fell  asleep,  in  that  deep  slumber 
which,  it  is  said,  cornes  upon  almost  every  mother  after  the 
dreadful  pains  of  childbirth. 

The  two  Princes  of  Lorraine,  when  they  transferred  the 
Court  to  Amboise,  had  no  hope  of  finding  there  the  leader 
of  the  Reformed  party,  the  Prince  de  Condé,  whom  they  had 
ordered  to  appear  in  the  King's  name  to  take  him  in  a 
snare.  As  a  vassal  of  the  Crown,  and  as  a  Prince  of  the 
Blood,  Condé  was  bound  to  obey  the  behest  of  the  King.  Not 
to  corne  to  Amboise  would  be  a  felony;  but,  by  coming,  he 
would  place  himself  in  the  power  of  the  Crown.  Now,  at  this 
moment,  the  Crown,  the  Council,  the  Court,  and  every  kind 
of  power,  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Duc  de  Guise  and  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine. 

In  this  difficult  dilemma,  the  Prince  de  Condé  showed  the 
spirit  of  decisiveness  and  astuteness,  which  made  him  a 
worthy  représentative  of  Jeanne  d'Albret  and  the  brave  Gen- 
evnl  of  the  Reformers'  forces.    He  traveled  at  the  heels  of  the 


11(5  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE"  MEDICI 

lasl  conspirators  to  Vendônio  lo  siii)]iort  llicin  iu  case  of 
success.  But  whon  this  lirst  rush  lo  ;iiiiis  vndvd  in  llu'  bricl" 
skirmish  iu  which  the  llower  of  tlie  uobility  wliom  Calvin 
had  inislcd  ail  j)i'rii?hed,  the  Prince,  and  a  following  of  lifty 
gentlemen,  arrived  at  the  château  d*Aniboi:?e  the  very  day 
after  this  alfair,  whicli  tho  Guises,  witli  crafty  policy,  s])oke 
of  as  the  riots  at  Amboise.  On  hcaring  of  the  Prince's  ad- 
vance,  the  Duke  sent  out  the  Maréchal  do  Saint-André  to 
reçoive  him  with  an  escort  of  a  hundred  nien-at-arins.  \\'hen 
the  Béarnais  came  to  the  gale  uf  the  château,  the  marshal  in 
connuand  refused  lo  admit  the  l'rince's  suite. 

"You  must  come  in  alone,  sir,"  said  the  Chancellor  Olivier, 
Cardinal  de  Tournon,  and  Birague,  who  awaited  him  outside 
the  portcullis. 

"And  why  ?" 

"You  are  suspected  of  felony,"  replied  the  Chancellor. 

The  Prince,  who  saw  that  his  parly  was  heing  eut  olf  by 
the  Duc  de  Nemours,  quietly  replied  : 

"If  that  is  the  case,  I  will  go  in  to  my  cousin  alone  and 
prove  my  innocence." 

He  dismounted  and  conversed  with  perfect  freedom  with 
Birague,  Tournon,  the  Chancellor  Olivier,  and  the  Duc  de 
Nemours,  from  whom  he  asked  détails  of  the  riot. 

"Monseigneur,"  said  the  Duc  de  Nemours,  "the  rebels  had 
sympathizcrs  inside  Amboise.  Captain  Lanoue  had  got  in 
some  men-at-arms,  who  opened  the  gâte  to  them  through 
which  they  got  into  the  town,  and  of  which  they  had  the 
command " 

"That  is  to  say,  j'ou  got  them  into  a  sack,"  replied  the 
Prince,  looking  at  Birague. 

"If  they  had  been  supported  by  the  attack  that  was  to 
hâve  been  made  on  the  Porte  des  Bons-Hommes  by  Captain 
Chaudieu,  the  preacher's  brothcr,  they  would  bave  succeeded," 
said  the  Duc  de  Nemours,  "but,  from  the  position  I  had  taken 
up,  in  obédience  to  the  Duc  de  Guise,  Captain  Chaudieu  was 
obliged  to  make  a  détour  to  avoid  fighting  me..  Instead  of 
arriving  at  night  like  the  rest,  that  rebel  did  not  come  up  till 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  147 

daybreak,  just  as  the  King's  troops  had  crushed  those  who 
had  got  into  the  town." 

"And  you  had  a  reserve  to  recapture  the  gâte  that  had 
been  given  up  to  them  ?" 

"Monsieur  le  Maréchal  de  Saint-André  was  on  the  spot 
with  five  hundred  men." 

The  Prince  warmly  praised  thèse  military  manœuvres. 

"To  hâve  acted  thus,"  said  he  in  conclusion,  "the  Lieu- 
tenant-General  must  hâve  known  the  Keformers'  secrets. 
They  hâve  evidently  been  betrayed." 

The  Prince  was  treated  with  greater  strictness  at  each 
step.  After  being  parted  from  his  followers  on  entering 
the  château,  the  Cardinal  and  the  Chancellor  stood  in  his 
way  when  he  turned  to  the  stairs  leading  to  the  King's  apart- 
ments. 

'^Ve  are  instructed  by  the  King,  sir,  to  conduct  you  to 
your  own  rooms." 

"Am  I  then  a  prisoner?" 

"If  that  were  the  King's  purpose,  you  would  not  be  at- 
tended  by  a  Prince  of  the  Church  and  by  me,"  replied  the 
Chancellor. 

The  two  functionaries  led  the  Prince  to  an  apartment 
where  a  guard — of  honor  so  called — was  allotted  to  him, 
and  where  he  remained  for  several  hours  without  seeing  any 
one.  From  his  window  he  looked  out  on  the  Loire,  the  rich 
country  which  makes  such  a  beautiful  valley  between  Am- 
boise  and  Tours,  and  he  was  meditating  on  his  situation, 
wondering  what  the  Guises  might  dare  to  do  to  his  person, 
when  he  heard  the  door  of  his  room  open,  and  saw  the  King's 
fool  come  in.  Chicot,  who  had  once  been  in  his  service. 

"I  heard  you  were  in  disgrâce,"  said  the  Prince. 

"You  cannot  think  how  sober  the  Court  bas  become  since 
the  death  of  Henri  II." 

"And  yet  the  King  loves  to  laugh,  surely." 

"Which  King?    Francis  II.  or  Francis  of  Lorraine?" 

"Are  you  so  fearless  of  the  Duke  that  you  speak  so?" 

"He  will  not  punish  me  for  that,  sir,"  replied  Chicot, 
smiling. 


118  AROT'T  OATÎTFRIXK  DE'   MEDICI 

"And  to  wliat  tlo  I  owo  (lie  lionor  of  this  visit?" 
"Was  it  uot  due  to  you  afUr  your  coming  hore?    I  hâve 
broufxlit  you  niy  cnp  and  bauble." 
"1  cannot  get  out  thcu?" 

"Trv  !" 

"And  if  I  do  get  out?" 

"1  will  confess  tliat  you  hâve  won  the  game  by  playing 
against  the  rules." 

"Cbicot,  you  frightcn  me. — Hâve  you  bcen  sent  by  Bome 
one  who  is  interested  in  my  fate?" 

Cliieot  nodded  "Yes."  He  went  nearer  to  the  Prince,  and 
conveyed  to  him  that  they  were  watched  and  overheard. 

"What  hâve  you  to  say  to  me?"  asked  Monsieur  de  Condé. 

"That  nothing  but  daring  can  get  you  out  of  the  ecrape," 
said  the  fool,  whispering  the  words  into  his  ear.  "And  this 
is  from  the  Queen-mother." 

"Tell  those  who  hâve  sent  you,"  replied  the  Prince,  "that 
I  should  never  hâve  corne  to  this  château  if  I  had  anything  to 
blâme  myself  for,  or  to  fear." 

"I  fly  to  carry  your  bold  reply,"  said  the  fool. 

Two  hours  later,  at  one  in  the  afternoon,  before  the  King's 
dinner,  the  Chancelier  and  Cardinal  de  Toumon  came  to 
fetch  the  Prince  to  conduct  him  to  Francis  II.  in  the  great 
hall  where  the  Council  had  sat.  There,  before  ail  the  Court, 
the  Prince  de  Condé  affected  surprise  at  the  cool  réception 
the  King  had  given  him,  and  he  asked  the  reason. 

"You  are  accused,  cousin,"  said  the  Queen-mother  sternly, 
"of  having  meddled  with  the  plots  of  the  Reformers,  and 
you  must  prove  yourself  a  faithful  subject  and  a  good 
Catholic  if  you  wish  to  avert  the  King's  anger  from  your 
House." 

On  hearing  this  speech,  spoken  by  Catherine  in  the  midst 
of  hushed  silence,  as  she  stood  with  her  hand  in  the  King's 
arm  and  with  the  Duc  d'Orléans  on  her  left  hand,  the  Prince 
de  Condé  drew  back  three  steps,  and  with  an  impulse  of  dig- 
nified  pride  laid  his  hand  on  his  sword,  looking  at  the  persons 
présent. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  149 

"Those  who  say  so,  madame,  lie  in  their  throat  !"  he  ex- 
claimed  in  angry  tones. 

He  flung  his  glove  at  the  King's  feet,  saying: 

"Let  the  man  who  will  maintain  his  calumny  stand  forth  !" 

A  shiver  ran  throiigh  the  whole  Court  when  the  Duc  de 
Guise  was  seen  to  quit  his  place;  but  instead  of  picking  up 
the  glove  as  they  expected,  he  went  up  to  the  intrepid  hunch- 
back, 

"If  y  ou  need  a  second,  Prince,  I  beg  of  y  ou  to  accept  my 
services,"  said  he.  *'I  will  answer  for  you,  and  will  show 
the  Reforniers  how  greatly  they  deceive  themselves  if  they 
hope  to  hâve  you  for  their  leader." 

The  Prince  de  Condé  could  not  help  offering  his  hand  to 
the  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom.  Chicot  picked  up 
the  glove  and  restored  it  to  Monsieur  de  Condé. 

"Cousin,"  said  the  boy-King,  "you  should  never  draw  your 
sword  but  in  defence  of  your  country. — Corne  to  dinner." 

The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  puzzled  by  his  brother's  action, 
led  him  off  to  their  rooms.  The  Prince  de  Condé,  having 
weathered  the  worst  danger,  gave  his  hand  to  Queen  Mary 
Stuart  to  lead  her  to  the  dining-room;  but,  while  making 
flattering  speeches  to  the  young  Queen,  he  was  trying  to 
discem  what  snare  was  at  this  moment  being  laid  for  him 
by  the  Balafré's  policy.  In  vain  he  racked  his  brain,  he 
could  not  divine  the  Guises'  scheme;  but  Queen  Mary  be- 
trayed  it. 

"It  would  hâve  been  a  pity,"  said  she,  laughing,  "to  see 
so  élever  a  head  fall;  you  must  allow  that  my  uncle  is  mag- 


nanimous." 


"Yes,  madame,  for  my  head  fits  no  shoulders  but  my  own, 
although  one  is  larger  than  the  other. — But  is  it  raagnanimity 
in  your  uncle?  Has  he  not  rather  gained  crédit  at  a  cheap 
rate?  Do  you  think  it  such  an  easy  matter  to  hâve  the  law 
of  a  Prince  of  the  Blood  ?" 

"We  hâve  not  donc  yet,"  replied  she.  "We  shall  see  how 
you  behave  at  the  exécution  of  the  gentlemen,  your  friends, 
over  which  the  Council  hâve  determined  to  make  the  greatest 
display." 

lO 


150  ABOUT  (W  rili:KI\K  DE'   MEDICI 

"1  sliall  do  as  the  lvin<^  doos,"  said  Condé. 

"The  King,  llio  Quoen-iiiotluT,  ;iim1  1  sliall  ail  be  présent, 
witli  ail  the  Court  aiul  tlio  Aiubassadors " 

*'C>iiite  a  high  day?"  said  the  Prince  ironieally. 

"Better  than  that,"  said  the  young  (^ueen,  ''an  auto- 
da-fè.  a  function  of  high  politieal  ])urj)()rt.  The  gentlemen 
of  France  must  be  subjugated  hy  llic  Crown;  they  must  be 
cured  of  their  t.i^te  for  faction  and  nianœuvring " 

"You  will  net  euro  thcni  of  tlieir  warlike  icniper  by  show- 
ing  them  their  danger,  madame,  and  at  tliis  ganie  you  risk  the 
Crown  itself,"  replied  the  Trince. 

At  the  end  of  this  dinner,  which  was  gloomy  enough,  Queen 
Mary  was  so  unfortunately  daring  as  to  turn  the  conversation 
publicly  on  the  trial  wliich  the  nobles,  taken  undcr  arms, 
wcre  at  that  moment  undergoing,  and  to  speak  of  the  neces- 
sity  for  giving  the  utmost  solemnity  to  their  exécution. 

"But,  madame,"  said  Francis  II.,  "is  it  not  enough  for  the 
King  of  France  to  know  that  the  blood  of  so  many  brave 
gentlemen  must  be  shed?    Must  it  be  a  cause  of  triumph?" 

"No,  sir,  but  an  example,"  replied  Catherine. 

"Your  grandfathcr  and  your  father  were  in  the  habit  of 
seeing  heretics  burned,"  said  Mary  Stuart. 

"The  kings  who  reigned  before  me  went  their  way,"  said 
Francis,  "and  I  mean  to  go  mine." 

"Philip  IL,"  Catherine  went  on,  "who  is  a  great  king  lately, 
when  he  was  in  the  Netherlands,  had  an  auto-da-fè  postponed 
till  he  should  hâve  returned  to  Valladolid." 

"What  do  you  think  about  it,  cousin?"  said  the  King  to 
the  Prince  de  Condé. 

"Sir,  you  cannot  avoid  going;  the  Papal  Nuncio  and  the 
Ambassadors  must  be  présent.  For  my  part,  I  am  delighted 
to  go  if  the  ladies  are  to  be  of  the  party." 

The  Prince,  at  a  glance  from  Catherine  de'  Medici,  had 
boldly  taken  his  line. 

While  the  Prince  de  Condé  was  being  admitted  to  the 
château  of  Amboise,  the  furrier  to  the  two  Queens  was  also 
arriving  from  Paris,  brought  thither  by  the  uneasiness  pro- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  151 

duced  by  the  reports  of  the  Rébellion,  not  only  in  himself  and 
bis  family,  but  also  in  the  Lalliers. 

At  the  gâte  of  the  château,  when  the  old  man  craved  ad- 
mission, the  eaptain  of  the  Guard,  at  the  words  "Queen's 
f  urrier,"  answered  at  once  : 

"My  good  man,  if  you  want  to  be  hanged,  you  hâve  only 
to  set  foot  in  the  courtyard." 

On  hearing  this,  the  unhappy  father  sat  down  on  a  rail 
a  little  way  off,  to  wait  till  some  attendant  on  either  of  the 
Queens,  or  some  woman  of  the  Court,  should  pass  him,  to 
ask  for  some  news  of  bis  son;  but  he  remained  there  the 
whole  day  without  seeing  anybody  he  knew,  and  was  at  last 
obliged  to  go  down  into  the  tovm,  wbere  he  found  a  lodging, 
not  without  difficulty,  in  an  inn  on  the  Square  where  the 
exécutions  were  to  take  place.  He  was  obliged  to  pay  a  livre 
a  day  to  secure  a  room  looking  out  on  the  Square. 

On  the  following  day,  he  was  brave  enough  to  look  on 
from  bis  window  at  the  rebels  who  had  been  condemned  to  the 
wheel,  or  to  be  hanged,  as  men  of  minor  importance;  and 
the  Syndic  of  the  Furriers'  Guild  was  glad  enough  not  to 
find  bis  son  among  the  sufferers. 

When  it  was  ail  over,  he  went  to  place  himself  in  the 
clerk's  way.  Having  mentioned  bis  name,  and  pressed  a 
purse  full  of  crown-pieces  into  the  man's  hand,  he  begged  him 
to  see  wbether,  in  the  three  former  days  of  exécution,  the 
name  of  Christophe  Lecamus  had  occurred.  The  registrar, 
touched  by  the  despairing  old  father's  manners  and  tone  of 
voice,  conducted  him  to  bis  own  bouse.  After  carefully  com- 
paring  notes,  he  could  assure  the  old  man  that  the  said  Chris- 
tophe was  not  among  those  who  had  hitherto  been  executed, 
nor  was  he  named  among  those  who  were  to  die  within  the 
next  few  days. 

"My  dear  master,"  said  the  clerk  to  the  furrier,  "the 
Parlement  is  now  engaged  in  trying  the  lords  and  gentlemen 
concerned  in  the  business,  and  the  principal  leaders.  So, 
possibly,  your  son  is  imprisoned  in  the  château,  and  will  be 
one  in  the  magnificent  exécution  for  which  my  lords  the  Duc 


ir>2  AROUT  (WTIIEUINE  DE'   MEDICI 

de  Guiso  and  the  Cardinal  do  Lorraine  are  niaking  great 
préparations.  Twenty-sevcn  barons  arc  to  be  beheaded,  with 
oleven  counts  and  scveu  marquises,  lifty  gentlemen  in  ail, 
and  leaders  of  the  Keformers.  As  the  administration  of  jiis- 
tiee  iu  Touraine  lias  no  connection  witii  tliat  of  the  i'aris 
Parlement,  if  you  positively  miist  hâve  some  news  of  your 
son,  go  to  my  Lord  the  Chancdlor  Olivier,  wlio,  hy  the  ordera 
of  the  Ueutenant-General  of  the  kiugdom,  has  the  manage- 
ment of  the  proccHîdings." 

Three  timos  did  the  poor  old  man  go  to  the  Chancellor'a 
house  and  stand  in  a  file  of  people  in  the  courtyard,  in  com- 
nion  with  an  immense  number  of  people  who  had  come  to 
pray  for  tlicir  relations'  lives;  but  as  titled  folks  were  ad- 
mittcd  before  the  middlc  class,  he  was  obliged  to  give  up  ail 
hope  of  speaking  with  the  Chancellor,  though  he  saw  him 
several  timcs  coming  out  of  his  house  to  go  cither  to  the 
château  or  to  the  Commission  appointed  by  the  Parlement, 
along  a  way  cleared  for  him  by  soldiers,  between  two  hedges 
of  petitioners  who  were  thrust  aside. 

It  was  a  dreadful  scène  of  misery,  for  among  this  erowd 
were  wives,  daughters,  and  mothers,  whole  families  in  tears. 
Old  Lecamus  gave  a  great  deal  of  gold  to  the  servants  at  the 
château,  enjoining  on  them  that  they  should  deliver  certain 
lett«rs  he  wrote  to  la  Dayelle,  Queen  Mary's  waiting-woman, 
or  to  the  Queen-mother's  woman  ;  but  the  lackeys  took  the 
good  man's  money,  and  then,  by  the  Cardinal's  orders,  handed 
ail  letters  to  the  Provost  of  the  Law  Court.  As  a  conséquence 
of  their  nnprecedented  cruelty,  the  Princes  of  Lorraine  had 
cause  to  fear  revenge  ;  and  they  never  took  greater  précautions 
than  during  the  stay  of  the  Count  at  Amboise,  so  that  neither 
the  most  effectuai  bribery,  that  of  gold,  nor  the  most  diligent 
inquiries  brought  the  furrier  any  light  as  to  his  son's  fate. 
He  wandered  about  the  little  town  in  a  melancholy  way, 
watching  the  tremendous  préparations  that  the  Cardinal  was 
making  for  the  shoeking  spectacle  at  which  the  Prince  de 
Condé  was  to  be  présent. 

Public  curiosity  was  being  stimulated,  by  every  means  in 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  153 

use  at  the  tirae,  frorri  Paris  to  Nantes.  The  exécution  had 
been  announeed  from  the  pulpit  by  every  preacher,  in  a 
breath  with  the  King's  victory  over  the  heretics. 

Three  élégant  stands,  the  centre  one  apparently  to  be  the 
finest  of  the  three,  were  being  erected  against  the  curtain- 
wall  of  the  château,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  exécution  was 
to  take  place.  A\\  round  the  open  space  raised  wooden  seats 
were  being  put  up,  after  the  fashion  of  an  amphithéâtre,  to 
accommodate  the  enormous  crowd  attracted  by  the  notoriety 
of  this  auto-da-fc.  About  ten  thousand  persons  were  camp- 
ing oui  in  the  fields  on  the  day  before  this  hideous  spectacle. 
The  roofs  were  crowded  with  spectators,  and  Windows  were 
let  for  as  much  as  ten  livres,  an  enormous  sum  at  that  time. 

The  unhappy  father  had,  as  may  be  supposed,  secured  one 
of  the  best  places  for  commanding  a  view  of  the  Square 
where  so  many  men  of  family  were  to  perish,  on  a  huge  scaf- 
fold  erected  in  the  middle,  and  covered  with  black  cloth.  On 
the  morning  of  the  fatal  day,  the  headsman's  block,  on 
which  the  victim  laid  his  head,  kneeling  in  front  of  it,  was 
placed  on  the  scaffold,  and  an  armchair,  hung  with  black, 
for  the  Eecorder  of  the  Court,  whose  duty  it  was  to  call  the 
condemned  by  name  and  read  their  sentence.  The  enclosure 
was  guarded  from  early  morning  by  the  Scotch  soldiers  and 
the  men-at-arms  of  the  King's  household,  to  keep  the  crowd 
out  till  the  hour  of  the  exécutions. 

After  a  solemn  mass  in  the  chapel  of  the  château  and  in 
every  church  in  the  town,  the  gentlemen  were  led  forth,  the 
last  survivors  of  ail  the  conspirators.  Thèse  men,  some  of 
whom  had  been  through  the  torture  chamber,  were  collected 
round  the  foot  of  the  scaffold,  and  exhorted  by  monks,  who 
strove  to  persuade  them  to  renounce  the  doctrines  of  Calvin. 
But  not  one  would  listen  to  thèse  preachers,  turned  on  to 
them  by  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  among  whom,  no  doubt, 
thèse  gentlemen  feared  that  there  might  be  some  spies  on 
behalf  of  the  Guises. 

To  escape  being  persecuted  with  thèse  exhortations,  they 
began  to  sing  a  psalm  turned  into  French  verse  by  Clément 


154  AHOUT  CATIIEUIN1-:   DIO'   MKDK^I 

Marot.  Calvin,  as  is  wcll  kiutwn,  h;ul  ilccrecd  ihat  God 
sliould  be  worsliiped  in  Ihe  niother-tonguc  of  evcry  country, 
froni  motives  of  coniinon  souse  as  wcll  as  from  antagonisni 
to  the  Koniaii  Chuivli.  It  was  a  patliotic  moment  for  ail 
tliose  among  tlie  Ihrong,  who  felt  for  tliese  gentlemen,  when 
they  lieard  tins  verse  sung  at  the  moment  when  the  Court 
appeared  on  the  sceue: 

Lord,  belp  us  In  our  need! 
Lord,  bless  us  with  Tby  grâce! 
And  on  the  saints  In  sore  distress 
Let  sliine  ïhy  glorious  face! 


The  eyes  of  the  Eeformers  ail  ccntcred  on  the  Prince  de 
Condé,  who  was  intentionally  placed  betwccn  Queen  Mary 
and  the  Duc  d'Orléans.  Queen  Catherine  de'  j\ledici  sat  next 
lier  son,  with  the  Cardinal  on  her  left.  The  Papal  Nuncio 
stood  behind  the  two  Queens.  The  Licutenant-General  of  the 
kingdom  was  on  horseback,  below  the  Royal  stand,  with  two 
marshals  of  France  and  his  captains.  As  soon  as  the  Prince 
de  Condé  appeared,  ail  the  gentlemen  sentenced  to  dcath,  to 
whom  he  was  known,  bowed  to  him,  and  the  brave  hunchback 
retumed  the  salutation. 

"It  is  hard,"  said  he  to  the  Duc  d'Orléans,  "not  to  be  civil 
to  men  who  are  about  to  die." 

The  two  other  grand  stands  were  fdled  by  invited  guests, 
by  courtiers,  and  the  attendants  on  their  Majesties  ;  in  short, 
the  rank  and  fashion  of  the  château  from  Blois,  who  thus 
ruslied  from  festivities  to  exécutions,  just  as  they  afterwards 
rushed  from  the  pleasures  of  Court  life  to  the  périls  of  war, 
with  a  readiness  which  to  foreigners  will  always  be  one  of 
the  mainsprings  of  their  policy  in  France.  The  poor  Syndic 
of  the  Furriers'  Guild  felt  the  keenest  joy  at  failing  to  discern 
his  son  among  the  fifty-seven  gentlemen  condemned  to  death. 

At  a  signal  from  the  Duc  de  Guise,  the  clerk,  from  the 
top  of  the  scaffoldj  called  out  at  once,  in  a  loud  voice  : 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  155 

"Jean-Louis-Albéric,  Baron  de  Raunay,  guilty  of  heresy, 
of  the  crime  of  high  treason,  and  of  bearing  arms  against  the 
King-s  Majesty." 

A  tall,  handsome  man  mounted  the  scaffold  with  a  firm 
step,  bowed  to  the  people  and  to  the  Court,  and  said  : 

"The  indictment  is  false;  I  bore  arms  to  deliver  the  King 
from  his  enemies  of  Lorraine  !" 

He  laid  his  head  on  the  block,  and  it  fell. 

The  Reformers  sang: 

Thou,  Lord,  hast  proved  our  faith 
And  searched  our  souFs  désire. 
And  purified  our  froward  hearts. 
As  silver  proved  by  fire. 

"Eobert-Jean-Eenc  Briquemaut,  Comte  de  Villemongis, 
guilty  of  high  treason  and  rébellion  against  the  King,"  cried 
the  Eecorder. 

The  Count  dipped  his  hands  in  the  Baron  de  Eaunay's 
blood,  and  said: 

"May  this  blood  be  on  the  head  of  those  who  are  truly 
guilty  !" 

The  Ref  ormers  sang  on  : 

Thou,  Lord,  hast  led  our  feet 
Where  foes  had  laid  their  snare; 
To  Thee,  O  Lord,  the  glory  be, 
Though  we  should  perish  there. 

"Confess,  my  lord  ISTuncio,"  said  the  Prince  de  Condé, 
"that  if  French  gentlemen  know  how  to  plot,  they  also  know 
how  to  die." 

"What  hatred  you  are  entailing  on  the  heads  of  your  chil- 
dren,  brother,"  said  the  Duchesse  de  Guise  to  the  Cardinal 
de  Lorraine. 

"The  sight  makes  me  feel  sick,"  said  the  young  King,  who 
had  turned  pale  at  the  sight  of  ail  this  bloodshed. 

"Pooh!    Eebels!"  said  Catherine  de'  Medici. 


ir.a  AROIT  ("A'riIEKINE  DE"   ^ÎK^ICI 

Still  the  hyum  wont  on,  still  Ihc  axo  Wiis  ])liod.  At  last  the 
tiiiblime  spectacle  of  mon  wlio  coulil  die  siiiging,  aud,  ubovo 
ail,  llic  iinprossion  proiliurd  on  the  crowd  by  the  graduai 
dwindling  of  the  voiees,  beeanie  slronger  than  the  terrer  in- 
spired  by  the  Guises. 

"Mercy  !"  cried  the  niob,  whcn  they  hcard  at  last  only  the 
fecblc  chant  of  a  single  victim,  reserved  till  the  liist,  as  being 
the  niost  important. 

Ile  was  sliuuling  alonc  at  the  foot  of  the  stcps  leading  up 
to  the  scailold,  and  sang  : 

Lord,  help  us  In  our  need! 
Lord,  bless  us  with  Thy  grâce! 
Aud  on  the  saints  in  soro  distross 
Let  sbine  Thy  glorious  face! 

"Corne,  Duc  de  Nemours,"  said  the  Prince  de  Condé,  who 
was  tired  of  his  position  ;  "you,  to  whom  the  sccuring  of  the 
victory  is  due,  and  who  helped  to  entrap  ail  thèse  people, — do 
not  you  fcel  that  you  ought  to  ask  the  life  of  tins  one?  It 
is  Castelnau,  who,  as  I  was  told,  had  your  promise  for  courte- 
ous  treatment  when  he  surrendered " 

"Did  I  wait  to  see  him  hère  before  trying  to  save  him?" 
said  the  Duc  de  Nemours,  stung  by  this  bitter  reprobf. 

The  clcrk  spoke  slowly,  intcntionally,  no  doubt: 

"Michel-Jean-Louis,  Baron  de  Castelnau-Chalosse,  ac- 
cusod  and  convicted  of  the  crime  of  high  treason,  and  of 
fighting  against  his  Majesty  the  King." 

"No,"  retorted  Castelnau  haughtily;  "it  ean  be  no  crime 
to  oppose  the  tyranny  and  intended  usurpation  of  the 
Guises  !" 

The  headsman,  who  was  tired,  seeing  some  stir  in  the  royal 
seats,  rested  on  his  axe. 

"Monsieur  le  Baron,"  said  he,  "I  should  bc  glad  not  to  hurt 
you.    One  minute  maj  perhaps  save  you." 

And  ail  the  people  shouted  again  for  mercy. 

"Come,"  said  tho  King,  "a  pardon  for  poor  Castelnau,  who 
saved  the  Duc  d'Orléans." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  157 

The  Cardinal  intentionally  misinterpreted  the  word 
"Corne."  He  noddcd  to  the  executioner,  and  Castelnau's  head 
fell  at  the  moment  when  Ihe  King  pronouuced  his  pardon. 

"That  one  goes  to  your  account,  Cardinal,"  said  Catherine. 

On  the  daj  after  this  horrible  massacre,  the  Prince  de 
Condé  set  ont  for  Navarre. 

This  affair  made  a  great  sensation  throughout  France  and 
in  every  foreign  Court.  The  torrents  of  noble  blood  then 
shed  caused  the  Chancelier  Olivier  such  deep  grief,  that  this 
admirable  judge,  seeing  the  end  at  which  the  Guises  were 
aimiug,  felt  that  he  was  not  strong  enough  to  hold  his  own 
against  them.  Although  they  had  made  him  what  he  was, 
he  would  not  sacrifice  his  duty  and  the  Monarchy  to  them; 
he  retired  from  public  life,  suggesting  that  l'Hôpital  should 
be  his  successor.  Catherine,  on  hearing  of  Olivier's  choice, 
proposed  Birague  for  the  post  of  Chancellor,  and  urged  her 
request  with  great  pertinacity.  The  Cardinal,  who  knew 
nothing  of  the  note  written  to  Catherine  by  l'Hôpital,  and 
who  believed  him  still  faithful  to  the  House  of  Lorraine, 
upheld  him  as  Birague's  rival,  and  the  Queen-mother  af- 
fected  to  be  overridden. 

L'Hôpital  was  no  sooner  appointed  than  he  took  steps  to 
prevent  the  introduction  into  France  of  the  Holy  Office,  wliich 
the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  wished  to  establish;  and  he  so 
effectually  opposed  the  Anti-Gallican  measures  and  policy  of 
the  Guises,  and  showed  himself  so  sturdy  a  Frenchman,  that 
within  three  months  of  his  appointment  he  was  exiled,  to 
reduce  his  spirit,  to  his  estate  of  le  Vignay,  near  Etampes. 

Old  Lecamus  impatiently  waited  till  the  Court  should 
leave  Amboise,  for  he  could  find  no  opportunity  of  speaking 
to  either  Queen  Mary  or  Queen  Catherine  ;  but  he  hoped  to  be 
able  to  place  himself  in  their  way  at  the  time  when  the  Court 
should  be  moving  along  the  river-bank  on  the  way  back  to 
Blois.  The  furrier  dressed  himself  as  a  poor  man,  at  the 
risk  of  being  seized  as  a  spy,  and  favored  by  this  disguise,  he 
mingled  with  the  beggars  who  stood  by  the  wayside. 

After  the  departure  of  the  Prince  de  Condé,  the  Duke  and 


158  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DF/   MEDICI 

llio  l'ardiiKil  thouglit  thaï  llu'y  had  silciu'cd  llic  Roformcd 
part}-,  and  ihoy  left  thc  Quecn-niolluT  a  litllr  moiv  libcrty. 
Lecamus  know  that  Catherine,  instead  of  travcling  in  a  litter, 
likcd  to  ride  on  horsobaek  on  a  planchette,  as  it  was  called, 
a  side  saddie  with  a  foot-rost.  This  sort  of  stirrup  was  in- 
Yontcd  by  or  for  Catherine,  who,  having  hurt  her  leg,  reated 
botli  feet  on  a  vclvet  sling,  sitting  sideways,  and  supporting 
one  knee  in  a  hollow  eut  in  the  saddie.  As  the  (^iieeii  had 
very  fine  legs,  she  was  accused  of  having  hit  on  this  device 
for  disphiying  them. 

Thus  the  old  man  was  able  to  place  himself  in  sight  of  the 
Queen-mother  ;  but  whcn  slic  saw  liim,  she  alïccted  anger. 

"Go  away  froni  liencc,  good  man,  and  let  no  one  see  you 
speaking  to  me,"  she  said  with  some  anxiety.  "Get  yourself 
appointcd  dclegate  to  the  States-General  from  the  corporation 
of  Paris  Guilds,  and  be  on  my  sidc  in  the  Assembly  at 
Orléans,  you  will  then  hear  soniething  definite  about  your 
son " 

"Is  he  alive  ?"  said  the  old  man. 

"Alas  !"  said  the  Queen,  ''I  hope  it." 

And  Lecamus  was  obliged  to  return  home  with  this  sad 
reply,  and  the  secret  as  to  the  convocation  of  the  States- 
General,  which  the  Queen  had  told  him. 

Some  days  before  this,  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  had  re- 
ceived  information  as  to  the  guilt  of  the  Court  of  Navarre. 
At  Lyons,  and  at  Mouvans  in  Dauphiné,  the  Reformera, 
commanded  by  the  most  entorprising  of  the  Bourbon  princes, 
had  tried  to  inflame  the  population.  This  daring  attempt, 
after  the  dreadful  exécutions  at  Amboise,  astonished  the 
Guises,  who,  to  put  an  end  to  heresy,  no  doubt,  by  some 
means  of  which  they  kept  the  secret,  proposed  to  assemble 
the  States-General  at  Orléans.  Catherine  de'  Medici,  who 
saw  a  support  for  her  own  policy  in  the  représentations  of 
the  nation,  consented  with  joy.  The  Cardinal,  who  aimed  at 
recapturing  his  prey,  and  overthrowing  the  House  of  Bour- 
bon, convoked  the  States  solely  to  secuie  the  présence  of  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  159 

Prince  do  Condé  and  of  the  King  of  Navarre,  Antoine  de 
Bourbon,  father  of  Henri  IV.  He  then  meant  to  make  use 
of  Cliristophe  to  convict  the  Prince  of  high  treason  if  he 
were  able  once  more  to  get  him  into  the  King's  power. 

After  spending  two  nionths  in  the  prison  of  Blois,  Chris- 
tophe one  morniug  was  carried  out  on  a  litter  lying  on  a  mat- 
tress,  was  embarked  on  a  barge,  and  taken  up  the  river  to 
Orléans  before  a  westerly  breeze.  He  reached  that  town  the 
same  evening,  and  was  taken  to  the  famous  tower  of  Saint- 
Aignan.  Christophe,  who  knew  not  what  to  make  of  his 
transfer,  had  time  enough  for  méditation  on  his  behavior 
and  on  his  future  prospects.  There  he  remained  two  months 
more,  on  his  bed,  unable  to  use  his  legs.  His  bones  were 
crushed.  When  he  begged  to  be  allowed  the  help  of  a  sur- 
geon, the  jailer  told  him  that  his  orders  with  regard  to  his 
prisoner  were  so  strict  that  he  dared  not  allow  any  one  else 
even  to  bring  him  his  food.  This  severity,  of  which  the  effect 
was  absolutely  solitary  confinement,  surprised  Christophe. 
His  idea  was  that  he  must  be  either  hanged  or  released;  he 
knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  events  happening  at  Amboise. 

In  spite  of  the  secret  warnings  to  remain  at  home  sent 
to  them  by  Catherine  de'  Medici,  the  two  chiefs  of  the 
House  of  Bourbon  determined  to  appear  at  the  meeting  of 
the  States-General,  since  autograph  letters  frora  the  King 
were  reassuring;  and  when  the  Court  was  settling  at  Orléans, 
Groslot,  the  Chancelier  of  Navarre,  announced  their  advent, 
to  the  surprise  of  ail. 

Francis  II.  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  house  of  the  Chan- 
celier of  Navarre,  who  was  also  the  Bailli  or  Recorder  of 
Orléans.  This  man  Groslot,  whose  double  appointment  is 
one  of  the  odd  features  of  a  time  when  Reformers  were  in 
possession  of  abbeys — Groslot,  the  Jacques  Cœur  of  Orléans, 
one  of  the  richest  citizens  of  his  day,  did  not  leave  his  name 
to  his  house.  It  came  to  be  known  as  the  Bailliage,  having 
been  purchased,  no  doubt,  from  his  heirs,  by  the  Crown,  or  by 
the  provincial  authorities,  to  be  the  seat  of  that  tribunal. 
This  élégant  structure,  built  by  the  citizens  of  the  sixteenth 


UU1  AIU)UT  CATIIEUINM  DE'   MKDICI 

ccnlury,  aclds  a  détail  to  thc  liistor}-  of  a  tiiiio  wlieii  tlie  King, 
thc  nobility,  and  the  uiiddle  chuss  vied  wilh  eacli  othcr  in 
woalth,  clegance,  and  splondor;  especially  in  tlu'ir  dwelling.s 
— as  niay  bc  seen  at  Varangeville,  Ango'a  niagnilicont  inanor- 
housc,  and  thc  Hôtel  d'Hercules,  as  it  is  calleil,  in  Taris, 
wliieli  still  exists,  but  in  a  condition  that  is  the  despair  ol" 
archa>ologists  and  of  lovers  of  mediaival  art. 

Those  who  hâve  been  to  Orléans  can  hardly  hâve  failed 
to  observe  the  Hôtel  de  Ville  in  the  Place  de  l'Estape.  This 
townhall  is  the  Old  Bailli's  Court,  the  Hôtel  tJroslot,  the 
niost  illustrious  and  inost  ncglccted  house  in  Orléans. 

The  remains  of  this  hôtel  plainly  show  to  the  arclueologist's 
cye  how  magnificent  it  niust  once  hâve  been,  at  a  time  when 
citizens  built  their  liouses  more  of  wood  tli;iii  of  stone,  and 
the  upper  ranks  alone  had  the  right  to  build  manor-houses, 
a  Word  of  spécial  moaning.  Since  it  scrved  as  the  King's  rési- 
dence at  a  time  when  the  Court  madc  so  much  display  of 
pomp  and  luxury,  the  Hôtel  Groslot  niust  thcn  hâve  been  the 
largest  and  finest  house  in  Orléans. 

It  was  on  the  Place  de  l'Estape  that  the  Guises  and  the 
King  held  a  review  of  the  municipal  guard,  to  which  Mon- 
sieur de  Cypicrre  was  nominated  eaptain  during  the  King's 
visit.  At  that  time,  thc  Cathcdral  of  Sainte-Croix — after- 
wards  finished  by  Henri  IV.,  who  desired  to  set  the  seal  to  his 
conversion — was  heing  built,  and  the  surrounding  groiind, 
strewn  with  blocks  of  stone  and  encumbered  with  piles  of 
timber,  was  held  by  the  Guises,  who  lodged  in  the  Bishop's 
palace,  now  destroyed. 

The  town  was  in  military  occupation,  and  the  measures 
adopted  by  the  Guises  plainly  showed  how  little  liberty  they 
intended  to  give  to  the  States-General,  while  the  delegates 
flocked  into  the  town  and  raised  the  rents  of  the  most 
wretchod  lodgings.  The  Court,  the  municipal  militia,  the 
nobles,  and  the  citizens  ail  alike  expected  some  Coup  d'État; 
and  their  expectations  were  fulfilled  when  the  Princes  of  the 
Blood  arrived. 

As  soon  as  the  two  Princes  entered  the  King's  room,  the 


ABOUT  CATUEUINE  DE'  MEDICI  IGl 

Court  saw  with  dismay  liow  insolent  was  the  behavior  of  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  wlio,  to  assert  his  audacious  preten- 
sions,  kept  his  liead  covered,  while  the  King  of  Navarre 
before  hini  was  barcheaded.  Catherine  de'  Medici  stood  with 
downcast  eyes,  uot  to  betray  lier  indignation.  A  solemn  ex- 
planation  then  took  place  between'  the  young  King  and  the 
two  heads  of  the  younger  branch.  It  was  brief,  for  at  the 
first  words  spoken  by  the  Prince  de  Condé,  Francis  II.  closed 
the  discussion  by  saying: 

"My  lords  and  cousins,  I  faneied  the  incident  of  Amboise 
was  at  an  end;  it  is  not  so,  and  we  shall  see  cause  to  regret 
our  indulgence  !" 

"It  is  not  the  King  who  speaks  thus,"  said  the  Prince  de 
Condé,  "but  Messieurs  de  Guise." 

"Good-day,  monsieur,"  said  the  little  King,  crimson  with 
rage. 

As  he  went  through  the  great  hall,  the  Prince  was  stopped 
by  the  two  captains  of  the  Guards.  When  the  officer  of  the 
French  Guard  stepped  forward,  the  Prince  took  a  letter  out 
of  the  breast  of  his  doublet  and  said,  in  the  présence  of  ail 
the  Court: 

"Can  you  read  me  this.  Monsieur  de  Maillé-Brézé  ?" 

"With  pleasure,"  said  the  French  captain: — 

"  *Cousin,  corne  in  ail  security  ;  I  give  you  my  royal  word 
that  you  may.  If  you  need  a  safe  conduct,  thèse  présents  will 
serve  you.'  " 

"And  signed ?"  said  the  bold  and  mischievous  hunch- 

back. 

"Signed  'François,'  "  said  Maillé. 

"Nay,  nay,"  replied  the  Prince,  "it  is  signed  'Your  good 
cousin  and  friend,  François  !' — Gentlemen,"  he  went  on, 
turning  to  the  Scotch  Guard,  "I  will  follow  you  to  the  prison 
whither  you  are  to  escort  me  by  the  King's  orders.  There  is 
enough  noble  spirit  in  this  room  to  understand  that." 

The  utter  silence  that  reigned  in  the  room  miglit  hâve 


162  ABOUT  CATHERINE   DE*   MEDICI 

cnlightenod  (lu>  Guises,  but  silence  is  Iho  lasl  tliing  that 
priuces  listen  to, 

"Monseigneur,"  said  the  Cardinal  de  Tournon,  who  was 
foliowing  tiie  Prince,  "since  the  day  al  Aniboiso  you  hâve 
taken  steps  in  opposition  to  royal  authority  at  Lyons  and  at 
Mouvans  in  Dauphiné — things  of  which  the  Kiug  kuew  nolh- 
ing  when  he  atldressed  you  in  Uiose  terms." 

"Rascals  !''  cried  the  Prince,  laughing. 

"You  niade  a  public  déclaration  against  the  Mass,  and  in 
favor  of  heresy " 

"We  are  niasters  in  Navarre,"  said  the  Prince. 

"In  Béarn,  you  mean  !  But  you  owe  homage  to  the 
Crown,"  replied  the  Président  de  Thou. 

"Ah,  you  are  hère.  Président  !"  exclaimed  the  Prince  iron- 
ically.     "And  is  ail  the  Parlement  with  you?" 

With  thèse  words  the  Prince  flashed  a  look  of  contempt 
at  the  Cardinal  and  left  the  room;  he  understood  that  his 
head  was  in  péril. 

On  the  following  day,  when  Messieurs  de  Thou,  de  Viole, 
d'Espesse,  Bourdin  the  public  prosecutor,  and  du  Tillet,  the 
cliief  clerk,  came  into  his  prison,  he  kept  them  standing,  and 
expressed  his  regrets  at  seeing  them  engaged  on  a  business 
which  did  not  concern  them  ;  then  he  said  to  the  clerk  : 

"Write." 

And  he  dictated  as  follows  : 

"I,  Louis  de  Bourbon,  Prince  de  Condé,  peer  of  the  realm, 
Marquis  de  Conti,  Comte  de  Soissons,  Prince  of  the  Blood 
of  France,  formally  refuse  to  recognize  any  Commission  ap- 
pointed  to  try  me,  inasmuch  as  that  by  virtue  of  my  rank  and 
the  privilèges  attaching  to  every  member  of  the  Royal  Family, 
I  can  only  be  attaintcd,  heard,  and  judged  by  a  Parlement  of 
ail  the  peers  in  their  places,  the  Chambers  in  full  assembly, 
and  the  King  seated  on  the  bed  of  justice. — You  ought  to 
know  this  better  than  any  one,  gentlemen,  and  this  is  ail  you 
will  get  of  me.    For  the  rest,  I  trust  in  God  and  my  Right." 

The  magistrales  proceeded  nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the 
determined  silence  of  the  Prince. 


Hy*;-f7:>i¥wK 

' 

<vi 

'.\k 

^' 

'1 

te^''4 

.>•■■ 

■i 

i 

ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI  163 

The  King  of  Navarre  was  at  liberty,  but  elosely  watehed; 
his  prison  was  a  wider  one  than  the  Prince's,  and  that  was 
the  whole  différence  between  his  position  and  his  brother's; 
for  the  heads  of  the  King  and  the  Prince  were  to  be  felled  at 
the  same  time. 

So  Christophe  was  so  elosely  confmed  by  order  of  the  Car- 
dinal and  the  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom  only  to 
afford  proof  to  the  judges  of  the  Prince's  guilt.  The  letters 
found  on  the  person  of  La  Sagne,  the  Prince's  secretary, 
intelligible  to  a  statesman,  were  not  clear  enough  for  the 
judges.  The  Cardinal  had  thought  of  bringing  the  Prince 
accidentally  face  to  face  wùth  Christophe,  who  had  been 
placed,  not  without  a  purpose,  in  a  lower  room  of  the  tower 
of  Saint-Aignan,  and  the.  window  looked  out  on  the  yard. 
Each  time  he  was  examined  by  the  magistrates,  Christophe 
entrerched  himself  in  systematic  déniai,  which  naturally 
prolonged  the  aiïair  till  the  meeting  of  the  States-General. 

Lecamus,  who  had  made  a  point  of  getting  himself  elected 
by  the  citizens  of  Paris  as  a  deputy  for  the  "Third  Estate," 
came  to  Orléans  a  few  days  after  the  Prince's  arrest.  This 
event,  of  which  he  had  news  at  Etampes,  increased  his  alarms, 
for  he  understood — he  who  alone  in  the  world  knew  of  his 
son's  interview  with  the  Prince  under  the  Pont-au-Change — 
that  Christophe's  fate  was  bound  up  with  that  of  the  rashly 
daring  head  of  the  Eeformation  party.  So  he  determined  to 
study  the  mysterious  interests  which  had  become  so  entangled 
at  Court  since  the  States  had  met,  so  as  to  hit  upon  some 
plan  for  rescuing  his  son.  It  was  in  vain  to  think  of  having 
recourse  to  Queen  Catherine,  who  refused  to  receive  the  fur- 
rier.  N"o  one  of  the  Court  to  whom  he  had  access  could  give 
him  any  satisfactor}^  information  with  regard  to  Christophe, 
and  he  had  sunk  to  such  depths  of  despair  that  he  was  about 
to  address  himself  to  the  Cardinal,  when  he  heard  that  Mon- 
sieur de  Thou  had  accepted  the  office  of  one  of  the  judges 
of  the  Prince  de  Condé — a  blot  on  the  good  famé  of  that 
great  jurist.  The  Syndic  went  to  call  on  his  son's  patron, 
and  leamed  that  Christophe  was  alive  but  a  prisoner. 


l&J  ABOUT  (WPII RUINE  DK"  MEDICI 

Tourill(M),  iln'  uldvcr.  to  uliosc  \\o\\^o  la  Ivonaiulio  had  sent 
Christoplu\  had  oUoretl  a  rooin  to  thc  Sieur  Lecainus  for  tho 
wholo  lime  liuring  wliicli  (lie  Slates-Ceiieral  sliould  be  siiting. 
Ile  bi'lit'Vi'd  llii'  furrier  to  be,  like  liiinself,  seerelly  altaebed  to 
tbe  lieforiiied  religion;  but  lie  soon  pereeiveJ  Ibat  a  l'allier 
who  fears  for  his  son's  life  ibinks  no  more  of  sbades  of  re- 
ligious  dogma;  be  tbrows  himself  soûl  and  bod}'  on  tbe 
niercy  of  lîod,  ucver  tbinking  of  tbe  bad,i;e  be  wears  before 
nien. 

Tbe  old  iiian,  repuLsed  al  every  att('in|)t,  wandered  balf- 
witless  about  tbe  streets.  Against  ail  bis  expectation.s,  bis 
gold  was  of  no  avail;  Monsieur  de  Tbou  bad  warned  bim 
that  even  if  be  should  bribe  some  servant  of  the  Guise  bouse- 
liold,  be  would  only  be  so  mucb  out  of  pocket,  for  tbe  Duke 
and  tbe  Cardinal  allowed  notbing  to  be  known  concerning 
Cbristopbe.  Tliis  judge,  whose  fair  famé  is  somewbat  tar- 
nished  by  the  part  be  played  at  this  juncture,  had  tried  to 
give  the  unbappy  fatber  some  hope;  but  be  himself  trembled 
for  his  godson's  life,  and  his  consolations  only  added  to  the 
furrier's  alarm.  The  old  man  was  always  prowling  round 
the  bouse;  in  thrce  montbs  he  grew  quite  thin. 

His  only  hope  now  lay  in  the  warm  friendship  which  had 
so  long  bound  him  to  the  Ilippocrates  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury.  Ambroise  Paré  tried  to  say  a  word  to  Queen  Mary 
as  he  came  out  of  the  King's  room;  but  the  instant  he  men- 
tioned  Christophe,  the  daughter  of  the  Stuarts,  annoyed  by 
the  prospect  before  her  in  the  event  of  any  ill  befalling  the 
King,  whom  she  believed  to  bave  bcen  poisoned  by  the  Ke- 
forraers,  as  he  had  been  taken  suddenly  ill,  replied  : 

"If  my  uncles  would  take  my  opinion,  such  a  fanatic  would 
hâve  been  hanged  before  now." 

On  the  evening  when  this  ominous  reply  had  been  repeated 
to  Lecamus  by  his  friend  Paré,  on  the  Place  de  l'Estape,  he 
went  home  half  dead,  and  retired  to  his  room,  refusing  to 
eat  any  supper. 

Tourillon,  very  uneasy,  went  upstairs,  and  found  the  old 
man  in  toars;  and  as  the  poor  furrier's  feeble  eyes  showed 


ABOUÏ  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDIGI  165 

the  reddened  and  wrinkled  linings  of  the  lids,  the  glover 
believed  that  they  were  tears  of  blood. 

"Be  comforted,  father/'  said  the  Huguenot,  "the  citizens 
of  Orléans  are  enraged  at  seeing  their  town  treated  as  if  it 
had  been  taken  by  assault,  and  guarded  by  Monsieur  de 
Cypierre's  soldier}-.  If  the  rrinee  de  Conde's  life  should 
be  in  danger,  we  should  very  soon  demolish  the  tower  of 
Saint- Aignan,  for  the  whole  town  is  on  the  Eeformers'  side, 
and  would  rise  in  rébellion,  you  may  be  quite  certain." 

"But  even  if  the  Guises  were  seized,  would  their  death  give 
me  back  my  son?"  said  the  unhappy  father. 

At  this  instant  there  was  a  timid  rap  at  the  outer  door; 
Tourillon  went  down  to  open  it.  It  was  quite  dark.  In  thèse 
troubled  times  the  master  of  every  household  took  elaborate 
précautions.  Tourillon  looked  out  through  the  bars  of  a  wicket 
in  the  door,  and  saw  a  stranger,  whose  accent  betrayed  him  as 
an  Italian.  This  man,  dressed  in  black,  asked  to  see  Lecamus 
on  matters  of  business,  and  Tourillon  showed  him  in.  At  the 
sight  of  the  stranger  the  old  furrier  quaked  visibly,  but  the 
visiter  had  time  to  lay  a  finger  on  his  lips.  Lecamus,  under- 
standing  the  gesture,  immediately  said  : 

"You  hâve  corne  to  ofïer  furs  for  sale,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Si,"  replied  the  stranger  in  Italian,  with  an  air  of  privity. 

This  man  was,  in  fact,  the  famous  Kuggieri,  the  Queen- 
mother's  astrologer.  Tourillon  went  downstairs,  perceiving 
that  he  was  not  wanted. 

"Where  can  we  talk  without  fear  of  being  overheard?" 
said  the  astute  Florentine. 

"Only  in  the  open  fields,"  replied  Lecamus.  "But  we  shall 
not  be  allowed  out  of  the  town;  you  know  how  strictly  the 
gâtes  are  guarded.  No  one  can  pass  out  without  an  order 
from  Monsieur  de  Cypierre,  not  even  a  member  of  the  As- 
sembly  like  myself.  Indeed,  at  to-morrow's  sitting  we  ail  in- 
tend to  complain  of  this  restriction  on  our  liberty." 

"Work  like  a  mole,  never  let  your  paws  be  seen  in  any  kind 

of  business,"  replied  the  wily  Florentine.     "To-morrow  will 

no  doubt  be  a  décisive  day.    From  my  calculations,  to-morrow, 

or  soon  after,  you  will  perhaps  see  your  son." 
II 


lUti  AHOUT  CATIIEKINE  DE'   MEDICI 

"Goil  grant  it  1  Though  you  are  said  to  deal  only  with  the 
Dcvil  !" 

"Coine  and  see  me  at  home/'  said  the  aslrologcr,  smiling. 
"I  watch  the  stars  froiu  the  tower  hclonging  to  the  Sieur 
Touchot  du  Beauvais,  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Bailiwiek,  whose 
daugiiter  lias  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  little  Due  d'Or- 
léans. I  hâve  cast  the  girl's  horoscope,  and  it  does  in  fact  por- 
tend  that  she  will  become  a  great  huîy  and  be  loved  by  a  King. 
The  Lieutenant  is  a  élever  fellow,  he  is  interested  in  science, 
and  the  Qucen  found  me  lodgings  with  the  good  man,  who  is 
cunning  enough  to  be  a  rabid  Uuisard  till  Charles  IX,  cornes 
to  the  throne.'' 

The  furrier  and  the  astrologer  made  their  way  to  the  Sieur 
du  Beauvais'  house  without  being  seen  or  interfered  with; 
and  in  the  event  of  Lccanms  being  discovered,  Ruggieri  meant 
to  alTord  him  a  pretext  in  his  désire  to  consult  the  astrologer 
as  to  his  son's  fate. 

When  they  had  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  turret  wliere  the 
astrologer  had  established  himself,  Lecamus  said: 

"Then  my  son  is  really  alive  ?" 

"At  présent,"  said  the  Italian.  "But  we  must  make  haste 
to  save  him.  Remcmber,  0  seller  of  skins,  that  I  would  not 
give  two  farthings  for  yours  if  in  the  whole  course  of  your 
life  you  breathe  one  word  of  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you." 

"The  warning  is  not  noeded,  master.  I  hâve  been  furrier 
to  the  Court  since  the  time  of  the  late  King  Louis  XIL,  and 
this  is  the  fourth  reign  I  hâve  lived  under." 

"And  you  raay  soon  say  the  fifth,"  replied  Ruggieri. 

*^^hat  do  you  know  of  my  son?" 

"Well,  he  has  been  through  the  torture-chamber." 

"Poor  boy  !"  sighed  the  old  man,  looking  up  to  heaven. 

"His  knees  and  ankles  are  a  little  damaged,  but  he  has 
gained  royal  protection,  which  will  be  over  him  as  long  as  he 
lives,"  the  Florentine  added,  on  seeing  the  father's  horror. 
"Your  little  Christophe  has  done  good  service  to  our  great 
Queen  Catherine.  If  we  can  get  your  son  out  of  the  clutches 
of  the  Cardinal,  you  will  see  him  Councillor  in  the  Parlement 


ABOUT  CATHERIXi^  DE'  MEDICI  167 

yet.  And  a  man  would  let  his  bones  be  broken  three  times 
over  to  find  hiinself  in  the  good  grâces  of  that  beloved  sov- 
ereign — a  real  genius  she,  who  will  triumph  over  every  ob- 
stacle. 

"I  hâve  east  the  horoscope  of  the  Duc  de  Guise:  he  will 
be  killed  within  a  year.  Corne  now,  Christophe  did  meet  the 
Prince  de  Condé " 

"You  know  the  future,  do  not  you  know  the  past  ?"  the  f ur- 
rier  put  in. 

"I  am  not  questioning  you,  I  am  informing  you,  good  man. 
Well,  your  son  will  be  placed  to-morrow  where  the  Prince  will 
pass  by.  If  he  recognizes  him,  or  if  the  Prince  recognizes 
your  son,  Monsieur  de  Condé  forfeits  his  head.  As  to  what 
would  become  of  his  accomplice — God  only  knows  !  But  be 
easy.  Neither  your  son  nor  the  Prince  is  doomed  to  die;  I 
hâve  read  their  destiny;  they  will  live.  But  by  what  means 
they  may  escape  I  know  not.  ISTow  we  will  do  what  we  can, 
apart  from  the  certainty  of  my  calculations.  Monsieur  de 
Condé  shall  get  a  prayer-book  to-morrow,  delivered  to  him 
by  a  safe  hand,  in  which  he  shall  find  a  warning.  God  grant 
that  your  son  may  be  secretive,  for  he  can  hâve  no  warning  ! 
And  a  mère  flash  of  récognition  would  cost  the  Prince  his 
life.  Thus,  although  the  Queen-mother  has  every  reason  to 
dépend  on  Christophe's  fidelity " 

"He  has  been  put  to  cruel  tests,"  cried  the  furrier. 

"Do  not  speak  in  that  way.  Do  you  suppose  that  the  Queen 
is  dancing  for  joy?  She  is  indeed  going  to  take  her  meas- 
ures  exactly  as  though  the  Guises  had  decided  on  the  Prince's 
death  ;  and  she  is  wise,  that  shrewd  and  prudent  Queen  !  Now 
she  counts  on  you  to  help  her  in  every  way.  You  hâve  sorae 
influence  in  the  'Third  Estate,'  where  you  are  the  représenta- 
tive of  the  Guilds  of  Paris;  and  even  if  the  Guisards  should 
promise  to  set  your  son  at  liberty,  try  to  deceive  them  and 
stir  up  your  class  against  the  Princes  of  Lorraine.  Vote  for 
the  Queen-mother  as  Eegent;  the  King  of  Navarre  will  give 
his  assent  to  that  publicly,  to-morrow,  in  the  Assembly," 

"But  the  King?" 


IGS  A  BOUT  CATHERIN  H  DE'   MEDICI 

"The  King  will  clic,"  said  Hiiggicri;  "I  hâve  read  it  in  the 
stars.  What  the  Queeii  rociuires  of  you  in  the  Asscnibly  is 
very  siiiij>le;  but  slie  ueeds  a  greater  service  froin  you  thau 
that.  You  inaintained  the  great  Ainbroise  Paré  while  he  waa 
a  student  ;  you  are  liis  friend " 

"Anibroise  loves  the  Duc  de  Cuise  in  thèse  days  bettcr  than 
ho  loves  me,"  said  the  furrier.  "And  lie  is  right;  he  owes 
his  phice  to  liim.  Still,  he  is  faitlifui  tu  tiie  King.  And,  al- 
thougli  he  lias  a  leaning  towards  the  lierorniation,  he  will  do 
nothing  but  his  duty." 

"A  plague  on  ail  honest  raen  !"  cried  tlie  Florentine.  "Am- 
broise  boasted  this  evening  that  he  could  pull  the  little  King 
through.  If  the  King  reeovers  his  health,  the  Guises  must 
triuniph,  the  Princes  are  dead  nien,  the  llouse  of  Bourbon  is 
extinct,  we  go  back  to  Florence,  your  son  is  hanged,  and  the 
Guises  will  miike  short  work  of  the  rest  of  the  Royal 
Family " 

"Great  God  !"  cried  Lecamus. 

"Do  not  exclaim  in  that  way  ;  it  is  like  a  citizen  who  knows 
nothing  of  Court  manners;  but  go  forthwith  to  Ambroise, 
and  find  out  what  he  means  to  do  to  save  the  King.  If  it 
seems  at  ail  certain,  come  and  tell  me  what  the  opération 
is  in  which  he  lias  such  faith." 

"But "  Lecamus  bcgan. 

"Obey  me  blindly,  my  good  friend,  otherwise  you  will  be 
dazzled." 

"He  is  right,"  thought  the  furrier. 

And  he  went  off  to  the  King's  surgeon,  who  lived  in  an 
inn  in  the  Place  du  Martroi. 

At  this  juncture  Catherine  de'  Medici  found  herself,  polit- 
ically  speaking,  in  the  same  extremities  as  she  had  been  in 
whcn  Christophe  had  seen  her  at  Blois.  Thougli  she  had 
inured  herself  to  the  struggle,  and  had  exerted  her  fine  in- 
tellect in  that  first  defeat,  her  situation,  though  precisely 
the  same  now  as  then,  was  even  more  critical  and  dangerous 
than  at  the  time  of  the  riots  at  Amboise.    Events  had  grown 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  169 

in  magnitude,  and  tho  Queen  had  growTi  with  them.  Though 
she  seemed  to  proceed  in  agreemcnt  with  the  Princes  of  Lor- 
raine, Catherine  held  the  threads  of  a  conspiracy  skilfully 
plotted  against  her  terrible  associâtes,  and  was  only  waiting 
for  a  favorable  moment  to  drop  her  mask. 

The  Cardinal  had  just  found  himself  deceivcd  by  Cath- 
erine. The  crafty  Italian  had  scen  in  the  younger  branch 
of  the  Eoyal  Family  an  obstacle  she  could  use  to  check  the 
pretensions  of  the  Guises  ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  counsel  of  the 
two  Gondis,  who  advised  her  to  leave  the  Guises  to  act  with 
what  violence  they  could  against  the  Bourbons,  shc  had,  by 
warning  the  Quecn  of  Xavarre,  brought  to  nought  the  plot  to 
seize  Béarn  concerted  by  the  Guises  with  the  King  of  Spain. 
As  this  State  secret  was  known  only  to  themselves  and  to 
Catherine,  the  Princes  of  Lorraine  were  assured  of  her  be- 
trayal,  and  they  wished  to  send  her  back  to  Florence;  but 
to  secure  proofs  of  Catherine's  treachery  to  the  State — the 
House  of  Lorraine  was  the  State — the  Duke  and  Cardinal 
had  just  made  her  privy  to  their  scheme  for  making  away 
with  the  King  of  Xavarre. 

The  précautions  which  were  immediately  taken  by  Antoine 
de  Bourbon  proved  to  the  brothers  that  this  secret,  known 
but  to  three  people,  had  been  divulged  by  the  Queen-mother. 
The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  accused  Catherine  of  lier  breach  of 
faith  in  the  présence  of  the  King,  threatening  lier  with  ban- 
ishment  if  any  fresh  indiscrétions  on  her  part  should  im- 
peril  the  State.  Catherine,  seeing  herself  in  imminent  dan- 
ger, was  compelled  to  act  as  a  high-handed  sovereign.  She 
gave  ample  proof  indced  of  her  fine  abilities,  but  it  must  also 
be  confessed  that  she  was  well  served  by  the  friends  she 
trusted. 

L'Hôpital  sent  her  a  letter  in  thèse  terms: 

"Do  not  allow  a  Prince  of  the  Blood  to  be  killed  by  a 
committee,  or  you  will  soon  be  carried  off  yourself." 

Catherine  sent  Birague  to  le  Vignay,  desiring  the  Chan- 


170  ABOUT  CATIIEIllxN'E  DE'  MEDICI 

collor  to  coine  to  tlu'  Asscmbly  of  tho  States-Gcncral,  aUliough 
he  was  in  banishinoiit.  Birague  returncd  the  samc  cvcning 
with  riiôpital,  halting  witliin  three  Icagues  of  Orléans,  and 
the  Chancellor  thus  declared  hiniself  on  the  side  of  the 
Queen-mother. 

Chiverni,  whose  fidelity  was  with  pood  roason  rogardod 
as  doubtful  by  the  Guises,  had  lied  froiii  Orléans,  and  by 
a  forced  niareh,  which  nearly  was  his  dealh,  he  reached 
Écouen  in  ten  hours.  lie  there  told  the  Connétable  de  Mont- 
morency of  tiie  danger  liis  nephew  the  Prince  de  Condé  was 
in,  and  of  the  encroachments  of  the  Guises.  Anne  de  Mont- 
morency, furious  at  learning  that  the  Prince  owed  his  life 
merely  to  the  sudden  illness  of  which  Francis  II.  was  dying, 
marched  up  with  fifteen  hundred  horse  and  a  hundred  gen- 
tlemen under  arms.  The  more  effectually  to  surprise  the 
Guises,  he  had  avoided  Paris,  coming  from  Écouen  to  Corbeil, 
and  from  Corbeil  to  Pithiviers  by  the  Valley  of  the  Essonne. 

''Man  to  man,  and  both  to  pull,  leaves  each  but  little  wool  !" 
he  said,  on  the  occasion  of  this  dashing  advance. 

Anne  de  Montmorency,  who  had  been  the  préserver  of 
France  when  Charles  Y.  invadcd  Provence,  and  the  Duc  de 
Guise,  who  had  checked  the  Emperor's  second  attempt  at 
Metz,  were,  in  fact,  the  two  greatest  Frcnch  warriors  of  their 
time. 

Catherine  had  waited  for  the  right  moment  to  stir  up  the 
hatred  of  the  man  whom  the  Guises  had  overthrown.  The 
Marquis  de  Simeuse,  in  coramand  of  the  town  of  Gien,  on 
hearing  of  the  advance  of  so  considérable  a  force  as  the  Con- 
nétable brought  with  him,  sprang  to  horse,  hoping  to  warn 
the  Duke  in  time.  The  Queen-mother,  meanwhile,  certain 
that  the  Connétable  would  come  to  his  nephew's  rescue,  and 
confident  of  the  Chancellor's  dévotion  to  the  royal  cause, 
had  fanned  the  hopes  and  encouraged  the  spirit  of  the  Re- 
formed  party.  The  Colignys  and  the  adhérents  of  the  im- 
periled  House  of  Bourbon  had  made  common  cause  with  the 
Queen-mother's  partisans;  a  coalition  bctween  various  an- 
tagonistic  interests,  attacked  by  a  common  foe,  was  silently 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  171 

formed  in  the  Assembly  of  the  States,  where  the  question  was 
boldly  broachcd  of  making  Catherine  Régent  of  France  in  the 
event  of  the  young  Kings  death.  Catherine  herself,  whose 
faith  in  astrology  was  far  greater  than  her  belief  in  Church 
dogmas,  had  ventured  to  extrêmes  against  her  foes  when  she 
saw  her  son  dying  at  the  end  of  the  time  fixed  as  his  term 
of  life  by  the  famous  soothsayer  brought  to  the  château  de 
Chaumont  by  Xostradamus. 

A  few  days  before  the  terrible  close  of  his  reign,  Francis 
II.  had  chosen  to  ga  out  on  the  Loire,  so  as  not  to  be  in  the 
town  at  the  hour  of  the  Prince  de  Condé's  intended  exécution. 
Having  surrendered  the  Prince's  head  to  the  Cardinal  de 
Lorraine,  he  feared  a  riot  quite  as  much  as  he  dreaded  the 
supplications  of  the  Princesse  de  Condé.  As  he  was  embark- 
ing,  a  fresh  breeze,  such  as  often  sweeps  the  Loire  at  the 
approach  of  winter,  gave  him  so  violent  an  earache  that  he 
was  forced  to  retum  home;  he  went  to  bed,  never  to  leave  it 
alive. 

In  spite  of  the  disagreement  of  the  physicians,  who,  ail 
but  Chapelain,  were  his  enemies  and  opponents,  Ambroise 
Paré  maintained  that  an  abscess  had  formed  in  the  head, 
and  that  if  no  outlet  were  pierced  the  chances  of  the  King's 
death  were  greater  every  day. 

In  spite  of  the  late  hour  and  the  rigorous  enforcement  of 
the  curfew  at  that  time  in  Orléans,  which  was  ruled  as  in  a 
state  of  siège,  Paré's  lamp  was  shining  in  his  window  where 
he  was  studying.  Lecaraus  called  to  him  from  below;  and 
when  he  had  announced  his  name,  the  surgeon  gave  orders 
that  his  old  friend  should  be  admitted. 

"You  give  yourself  no  rest,  Ambroise,  and  while  saving 
the  lives  of  others  you  will  wear  out  your  own,"  said  the 
furrier  as  he  went  in. 

Indeed,  there  sat  the  surgeon,  his  books  open,  his  instru- 
ments lying  about,  and  before  him  a  skull  not  long  since 
buried,  dug  up  from  the  grave,  and  perforated. 

"I  must  save  the  King." 

"Then  you  are  very  sure  you  can,  Ambroise?"  said  the  old 
man,  shuddering. 


172  AllOl'T  CA  rriERINE  DE  MRDIOI 

"As  sure  as  I  am  nlivc.  nio  Kini?.  my  pond  old  fricMid, 
lias  somo  ovil  huinor  fostoring  on  his  braiii,  wliich  will  fiU  it 
iip,  aiul  llio  lîangor  is  pressing;  but  bv  piorcing  tho  skuU  I 
lot  the  mattor  oui  niul  froc  his  lioad.  1  havc  alrcady  per- 
formcd  tliis  (ij)oration  thrco  tiinos;  it  was  inventcd  by  a  Picd- 
niontoso,  and  1  hâve  boon  so  lucky  as  to  improvc  \ipon  it.  The 
first  tinic  it  was  at  tho  siogc  of  ^lel/,  on  MniisiiMir  do  Picnno, 
whom  I  got  ont  of  tho  sorapo,  and  who  bas  only  bccn  ail  tho 
wiser  for  it;  the  second  tinic  it  savcd  the  life  of  a  poor  nian 
on  whoni  I  wishcd  to  test  the  certainty  of  this  daring  opéra- 
tion to  which  Monsieur  de  Pienne  had  submitted;  the  third 
tinie  was  on  a  gentleman  in  Paris,  who  is  now  perfectly  well. 
Trcpanning — for  that  is  the  name  given  to  it — is  as  yet 
littlo  known.  The  sufîcrcrs  object  to  it  on  the  score  of  the 
imperfection  of  the  instrument,  but  that  I  bave  been  able 
to  improve.  So  now  I  am  experimenting  on  this  head,  to  be 
sure  of  not  failing  to-morrow  on  the  King's." 

"You  must  be  very  sure  of  yourself,  for  your  head  will  be 
in  danger  if  you " 

"I  will  wager  my  life  that  he  is  cured,"  replied  Paré, 
with  the  confidence  of  genius.  "Oh,  my  good  friend,  what  is 
it  to  make  a  hole  in  a  skull  with  due  care?  It  is  what  sol- 
dicrs  do  every  day  with  no  care  at  ail." 

"But  do  you  know,  my  boy,"  said  the  citizen,  greatly  dar- 
ing, "that  if  you  save  the  King,  you  ruin  France?  Do  you 
know  that  your  instrument  will  place  the  crown  of  the  Valois 
on  the  head  of  a  Prince  of  Lorraine,  calling  himsclf  the 
direct  hoir  of  Charlcmagne?  Do  you  know  that  surgery 
and  politics  are,  at  this  moment,  at  daggers  drawn?  Yes, 
the  triumph  of  your  genius  will  be  the  overthrow  of  your 
religion.  If  the  Cuises  retain  the  Regency,  the  blood  of  the 
Eeformers  will  fîow  in  streams  !  Be  a  great  citizen  rather 
than  a  great  surgeon,  and  sleep  through  to-morrow  morning, 
leaving  the  King's  room  frce  to  those  leeches  who,  if  they 
do  not  save  the  King,  will  save  France." 

"I  !"  cried  Paré.  "I — leave  a  man  to  die  when  I  can  cure 
him?    Never!    If  I  am  to  be  hanged  for  a  Calvinist,  I  will 


ABOUT   CATHERINE   DE'   MEDICI  173 

go  to  the  château,  ail  the  same,  right  early  to-morrow.  Do 
net  you  know  tliat  the  only  favor  I  mean  to  ask,  when  I 
liave  savcd  the  King,  is  your  Christophe's  life?  There  will 
Burely  be  a  moment  when  Queen  Mary  can  refuse  me 
nothing  ?" 

"Alas,  my  friend,  has  not  the  little  King  alrcady  refused 
the  Princesse  de  Condé  any  pardon  for  lier  husband?  Do 
not  kill  your  religion  by  enabling  the  man  to  live  who  ought 
to  die." 

"Are  you  going  to  puzzle  yourself  by  trying  to  find  out 
how  God  raeans  to  dispose  of  things  in  the  future?"  said 
Paré.  "Honest  folks  hâve  but  one  niotto — 'Do  your  duty, 
corne  what  may.' — I  did  this  at  the  siège  of  Calais  when  I 
set  niy  foot  on  the  Grand  Master;  I  risked  being  eut  down 
by  ail  bis  friends  and  attendants,  and  hère  I  am,  surgeon  to 
the  King;  I  am  a  Reformer,  and  yet  I  can  call  the  Guises 
my  friends. — I  will  save  the  King!"  cried  the  surgeon,  with 
the  sacred  enthusiasm  of  conviction  that  genius  knows,  "and 
God  will  take  care  of  France  !" 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
one  of  Ambroise  Paré's  servants  gave  a  note  to  Lecamus,  who 
read  aloud  thèse  ominous  words  : 

"A  scaffold  is  being  erected  at  the  Couvent  of  the  Récollets 
for  the  beheading  of  the  Prince  de  Condé  to-morrow." 

Ambroise  and  Lecamus  looked  at  each  other,  both  overpow- 
ered  with  horror. 

"I  will  go  ^nd  make  sure,"  said  the  furrier, 

Out  on  the  square,  Ruggieri  took  Lecamus  by  the  arm, 
asking  what  was  Paré's  secret  for  saving  the  King;  but  the 
old  man,  fearing  some  treachery,  insisted  on  going  to  see  the 
scaffold.  So  the  astrologer  and  the  furrier  went  together  to 
the  Récollets,  where,  in  fact,  they  found  carpenters  at  work 
by  torchlight. 

"Hey  day,  my  friend,"  said  Lecamus  to  one  of  them  ;  "what 
business  is  this?" 


174  ABOUT  CATITEÎÎIXE  DE'   MEDICI 

"We  are  prcpariiig  to  hang  soiiic  lierctics,  sincc  thc  blccding 
nt  Ainboiso  did  not  cure  theni,"  ^lùd  a  young  friar,  wlio  was 
euporiiiti'iiding  the  workinen. 

"iMouseignour  the  Cardinal  docs  well,"  said  the  prudent 
Euggieri.    "But  in  my  eouulry  we  do  even  bctter." 

"Whatdoyoudo?" 

"We  burn  theni,  brothcr." 

Lecanius  was  obligod  to  lean  on  the  astrologer;  his  legs 
refuscd  to  carry  hini,  for  he  thought  (liât  his  son  might  next 
day  be  swinging  to  one  of  those  gibbets.  Tlie  poor  old  man 
stood  bctween  two  sciences — astrology  and  medicine;  each 
promised  to  save  his  son,  for  whom  the  scalïold  was  visibly 
rising.  In  tliis  confusion  of  niind  he  was  as  wax  in  the 
hands  of  the  Florentine. 

"Well,  my  most  respectable  vendor  of  vair,  what  bave  you 
to  say  to  thèse  pleasantrics  of  Lorraine?"  said  Euggieri. 

"Woe  the  day  !  You  know  I  would  give  my  own  skin  to 
see  my  boy's  safe  and  sound." 

"That  is  what  I  call  talking  like  a  skinner,"  replied  the 
Italian.  "But  if  you  will  explain  to  me  the  opération  that 
Ambroise  proposes  to  perform  on  the  King,  I  will  guarantee 
your  son's  life." 

"Truly?"  cried  the  old  furrier. 

"What  shall  I  swear  by  ?"  said  Euggieri. 

On  this  the  unhappy  old  man  repeatcd  his  conversation 
with  Paré  to  the  Italian,  who  was  off,  leaving  the  disconsolate 
father  in  the  road  the  instant  he  had  heard  the  great  sur- 
geon's  secret. 

"Whom  the  devil  does  he  mean  mischief  to?"  cried  Le- 
camus,  as  he  saw  Euggieri  running  at  his  utmost  speed 
towards  the  Place  de  l'Estape. 

Lecamus  knew  nothing  of  the  terrible  scène  which  was 
going  on  by  the  King's  bedside,  and  which  had  Icd  to  the 
order  being  given  for  the  érection  of  the  scaffold  for  the 
Prince,  who  had  been  sentenced  in  default,  as  it  were,  though 
his  exécution  was  postponed  for  the  moment  by  the  King's 
illness. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  175 

Thcre  was  no  one  in  the  hall,  on  the  stairs,  or  in  the  court- 
yard  of  the  Bailli's  house  but  those  on  actual  duty.  The 
crowd  of  courtiers  liad  resorted  to  the  lodgings  of  the  King 
of  Xavarre,  who,  by  tho  law  of  the  land,  was  Eegcnt.  The 
French  nobles,  terrified  indccd  by  the  insolence  of  the  Guises, 
felt  an  impulse  to  close  their  ranks  round  the  chief  of  the 
younger  brandi,  seeing  that  the  Queen-mother  was  sub-". 
servient  to  the  Guises,  and  not  understanding  her  Italian 
policy.  Antoine  de  Bourbon,  faithful  to  his  secret  compact 
with  Catherine,  was  not  to  renounce  his  claim  to  the  re- 
gency  in  her  favor  till  the  States-General  should  hâve  voted 
on  the  question. 

This  absolute  désertion  had  struck  the  Grand  Master  when, 
on  his  return  frora  a  walk  through  the  town — as  a  precau- 
tionary  measure — he  found  no  one  about  the  King  but  the 
friends  dépendent  on  his  fortunes.  The  room  where  Francis 
II. 's  bed  had  been  placed  adjoins  the  great  hall  of  the 
bailiff's  résidence,  and  was  at  that  time  lined  with  oak  panel- 
ing.  Tho  ceiling,  formed  of  narrow  boards,  skilfully  ad-. 
justed  and  painted,  showed  an  arabesque  pattern  in  blue  on 
a  gold  ground,  and  a  pièce  of  it,  pulled  down  about  fifty  years 
ago,  has  been  preserved  by  a  collecter  of  antiquities.  This 
room,  hung  with  tapestry,  and  the  floor  covered  with  a  carpet, 
was  so  dark  that  the  burning  tapers  scarcely  gave  it  light. 
The  enormous  bedstead,  with  four  columnar  posts  and  silk 
curtains,  looked  like  a  tomb.  On  one  side  of  the  bed,  by  the 
King's  pillow,  were  Queen  Mary  and  the  Cardinal  de  Lor- 
raine ;  on  the  other  sat  Catherine  in  an  armchair.  The  phy- 
sician-in-ordinary,  the  famous  Jean  Chapelain,  afterwards  in 
attendance  on  Charles  IX.,  was  standing  by  the  fireplace. 
Perfect  silence  reigned. 

The  young  King,  pale  and  slight,  lost  in  the  sheets,  was 
hardly  to  be  seen,  with  his  small,  puckered  face  on  the  pillow. 
The  Duchesse  de  Guise,  seatcd  on  a  stool,  was  supporting 
Mary  Stuart;  and  near  Catherine,  in  a  window  recess, 
Madame  de  Fieschi  was  watching  the  Queen-mother's  looks 
and  gestures,  for  she  understood  the  périls  of  her  position. 


176  AHOTT  (WIIIKUINK  DE'  MEDICI 

In  thc  prcnt  hall,  notwithslnndinf:;  (hr  l.itc  hour,  Monsieur 
do  Cypicrro,  tho  Duc  d'Orlénns'  tutor,  apjxiinlod  to  be  gov- 
onior  of  tho  towii,  occupiod  a  chiuiuoy  corner  with  tho  two 
Goudis.  Cardinal  de  Tournon,  who  at  this  crisis  had  takcn 
part  with  Quoon  Catherine,  ou  findin«;  hiniself  treated  as  an 
infcrior  bv  thc  Cardinal  de  Ijorraino,  whoso  c(iii;il  hv  im- 
doubtedly  was  in  thc  Churcli,  was  convorsing  in  a  low  voice 
with  the  brothers  Gondi.  The  Maréchal  de  Vieillcville  and 
ilonsicur  do  Saint-André,  Kceiier  of  tho  Seals,  were  dis- 
cussing  in  whispcrs  thc  iinniinont  danger  of  tho  (Juisos. 

Thc  Duc  de  Guise  crossod  the  hall,  glancing  hastily  about 
hini,  and  bowcd  to  thc  Duc  d'Orléans,  whoni  ho  rccognizod. 

"Monseigneur,' '  said  he,  "this  may  givc  you  a  Icsson  in 
thc  knowlodgo  of  mon.  The  Catholic  nol)ility  of  the  kingdoin 
havo  crowdod  round  a  heretic  prince,  belicving  that  tho  .States 
assemblod  will  place  tho  Eogoncy  in  the  hands  of  the  heir 
to  the  traiter  who  so  long  kept  your  illustrions  grandfathcr  a 
prisoner." 

And  after  this  speech,  which  was  calcnlated  to  make  a  deep 
impression  on  the  prince's  mind,  he  went  into  thc  bcdroom 
where  the  young  King  was  lying,  not  so  much  asloop  as 
heavily  drowsy.  As  a  rule,  the  Duc  do  Guise  had  thc  art 
of  overcoming,  by  his  affable  expression,  the  sinister  appoar- 
ance  of  his  scarrcd  fcatures;  but  at  this  moment  he  could 
not  force  a  smile,  secing  the  instrument  of  powor  qui  te 
broken.  The  Cardinal,  whose  civic  courage  was  equal  to  his 
brothor's  military  valor,  came  forward  a  stop  or  two  to  meet 
tho  Lieutenant-Gonoral. 

"Robertet  believes  that  little  Pinard  has  been  bought  over 
by  the  Queen-mother,"  he  said  in  his  ear,  as  he  led  him  back 
into  the  hall.  "He  has  been  made  use  of  to  work  on  the 
members  of  the  Assembly." 

"Bah  !  what  mattors  our  being  betraycd  by  a  socretary, 
when  there  is  treason  every where?"  cried  the  Duke.  "The 
town  is  for  the  Reformers,  and  we  are  on  the  eve  of  a  revolt. 
Yes!  the  Guépins  are  malcontents,"  he  addod,  giving  the 
people  of  Orléans  their  common  nickname,  "and  if  Paré  can- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  177 

not  save  the  Kiiig,  we  shall  see  a  desperate  outbreak.  Before 
long  we  shall  hâve  to  lay  siège  to  Orléans,  which  is  a  vermin's 
nest  of  Huguenots." 

"In  the  last  minute,"  said  the  Cardinal,  "I  hâve  been 
vratching  that  Italian  woman,  who  sits  there  without  a  spark 
of  feeling.  She  is  waiting  for  lier  son's  death,  God  forgive 
lier  ! — I  wonder  whether  it  would  not  be  well  to  arrest  her 
and  the  King  of  Navarre  too." 

"It  is  more  than  enough  to  hâve  the  Prince  de  Condé  in 
prison,"  replied  the  Duke. 

The  Sound  of  a  horse  ridden  at  top-speed  came  up  from  the 
gâte.  The  tveo  Princes  went  to  the  window,  and  by  the  light 
of  the  gatekeeper's  torch  and  of  the  cresset  that  was  always 
burning  under  the  gateway,  the  Duke  recognized  in  the 
rider's  hat  the  famous  cross  of  Lorraine,  which  the  Cardinal 
had  made  the  badge  of  their  partisans.  He  sent  one  of  the 
men-at-arms,  who  stood  in  the  ante-room,  to  say  that  the 
newcomer  was  to  be  admitted  ;  and  he  went  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  to  meet  him,  followed  by  his  brother. 

"What  is  the  news,  my  dear  Simeuse?"  asked  the  Duke, 
with  the  charming  manner  he  alwaj's  had  for  a  soldier,  as 
he  recognized  the  Commandant  of  Gien. 

"The  Connétable  is  entering  Pithiviers;  he  left  Êcouen 
with  fifteen  hundred  horse  and  a  hundred  gentlemen " 

"Hâve  they  any  following?"  said  the  Duke. 

"Yes,  monseigneur,"  replied  Simeuse.  "There  are  two 
thousand  six  hundred  of  them  in  ail.  Some  say  that  Thoré 
is  behind  with  a  troop  of  infantry.  If  Montmorency  amuses 
himself  with  waiting  for  his  son,  you  hâve  time  before  you 
to  undo  him." 

"And  is  that  ail  you  know  ?  Are  his  motives  for  this  rush 
to  arms  commonly  reported?" 

"Anne  speaks  as  little  as  he  writes;  do  you  go  and  meet 
him,  brother,  while  I  will  greet  him  hère  with  his  nephew's 
head,"  said  the  Cardinal,  ordering  an  attendant  to  fetch 
Eobertet. 

"Vieilleville,"  cried  the  Duke  to  the  Marshal,  who  came 


^ ^- w^ 


178  ABOUT  CATIIEKIMO   DE'   MKIUCI 

in,  "tho  Coiim'tablo  de  Montmoreiu'y  lias  darod  to  take  up 
arms.  If  1  go  ont  to  inoot  hiin.  will  you  bc  rcsponsible  for 
koeping  ordor  in  tlio  town?" 

"Tbo  instant  you  arc  out  of  it,  tlic  townsfolk  will  rise;  and 
who  can  forcsee  the  issue  of  a  l'ray  hciwcrn  horsenien  and 
citizcns  in  such  naiiow  strccts?''  replied  tbc  iMarsbal. 

"My  Lord  !"  said  Kobortot,  flying  up  the  stairs,  "the  Chan- 
cellor  is  at  the  gâtes,  and  insists  on  ooining  in;  are  wc  to  ad- 
mit him  ?" 

"Yes,  admit  him,"  said  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine.  "The 
Constable  and  the  Chancellor  togctlicr  would  be  too  danger- 
ous;  we  must  keop  tluiu  apart.  We  werc  finely  tricked  by  the 
Quoon-mothcr  when  we  elected  l'Hôpital  to  that  office." 

lîobertot  nodded  to  a  captain  who  awaitcd  tlie  reply  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  and  returucd  quickly  to  take  the  Cardinal's 
orders. 

"My  Lord,"  said  he,  making  a  last  effort,  "I  take  the 
liberty  of  reprcscnting  to  you  that  the  sentence  requires  the 
approval  of  the  King  in  Council.  If  you  violate  the  law  for 
a  Prince  of  the  Blood,  it  will  not  bc  respected  in  favor  of  a 
Cardinal  or  of  a  Duc  de  Guise." 

"Pinard  has  disturbed  your  mind,  Eobertet,"  said  the  Car- 
dinal sternly.  "Do  you  not  know  that  the  King  signed  the 
warrant  on  the  day  when  he  went  out,  leaving  it  to  us  to 
carry  it  out  ?" 

"Tliough  you  are  almost  rcquiring  my  head  of  me  when 
you  give  me  this  duty — which,  however,  will  be  that  of  the 
town-provost — I  obey,  my  Lord." 

The  Grand  Master  heard  the  debate  without  wincing; 
but  he  took  his  brother  by  the  arm,  and  led  him  to  a  corner 
of  the  hall. 

"Of  course,"  said  he,  "the  direct  heirs  of  Charlemagne 
hâve  the  right  to  take  back  the  crown  which  was  snatched 
frora  their  family  by  Hugues  Capet;  but — can  they?  The 
pear  is  not  ripe. — Our  nephew  is  dying,  and  ail  the  Court  is 
gono  over  to  the  King  of  Navarre." 

"The  King's  heart  failod  him;  but  for  that,  the  Béarnais 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDIGI  179 

would  hâve  been  stabbed,"  replied  thc  Cardinal,  "and  we 
could  easily  hâve  disposed  of  the  childrcn." 

"We  are  in  a  bad  position  herc,"  said  the  Duke.  "The 
revolt  in  the  town  will  be  supported  by  the  States-General. 
L'Hôpital,  whom  we  hâve  befriended  so  well,  and  whose  élé- 
vation Queen  Catherine  opposed,  is  now  our  foe,  and  we  need 
the  law  on  our  side.  The  Queen-mother  has  too  many  ad- 
hérents now  to  allow  of  our  sending  her  away. — And  besides, 
there  are  three  more  boys  !" 

"She  is  no  longer  a  mother;  she  is  nothing  but  a  queen," 
said  the  Cardinal.  "In  my  opinion,  this  is  the  very  moment 
to  be  rid  of  her.  Energy,  and  again  energy  !  that  is  what  I 
preseribe." 

Having  said  this,  the  Cardinal  went  back  into  the  King's 
room,  and  the  Duke  followed  him.  The  prelate  went  straight 
up  to  Catherine. 

"The  papers  found  on  La  Sagne,  the  Prince  de  Condé's 
secretary,  hâve  been  communicated  to  you,"  said  he.  "You 
know  that  the  Bourbons  mean  to  dethrone  your  children?" 

"I  know  it  ail,"  said  the  Queen. 

"Well,  then,  will  you  not  hâve  the  King  of  Navarre  ar- 
rested?" 

"There  is  a  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom,"  replied 
she. 

At  this  moment  Francis  complained  of  the  most  violent 
pain  in  his  ear,  and  began  to  moan  lamentably.  The  phy- 
sician  left  the  fireplace,  where  he  was  warming  himself,  and 
came  to  examine  the  patient's  head. 

"Well,  monsieur?"  said  the  Grand  Master,  addressing  him. 

"I  dare  not  apply  a  compress  to  draw  the  evil  humors. 
-Master  Ambroise  has  undertaken  to  save  his  Majesty  by  an 
opération,  and  I  should  annoy  him  by  doing  so." 

"Put  it  off  till  to-morrow,"  said  Catherine  calmly,  "and  be 
présent,  ail  of  you  médical  men;  for  you  know  what  calum- 
nies  the  death  of  a  prince  gives  ground  for." 

She  kisscd  her  son's  hands  and  withdrew. 

"How  coolly  that  audacious  trader's  daughter  can  speak  of 


180  AHOi  r  t;Arm:KiNi:  inr  medici 

the  Dauphin's  donth,  poisonoJ  as  ho  was  by  Montccuculi, 
a  Florciiiino  of  Ium'  suito!"  crii'cl  Mary  Stuarf. 

"Marie,"  said  (ho  little  Kin^,  "iny  grand  fa  thcr  iiovor  cast 
a  suspicion  on  h(^r  iiinoooiico." 

"Cannot  wc  liindcr  (liât  womaii  froin  {.■oiiiing  herc  to- 
morrow?"  said  tho  Quecn  in  an  undorlone  to  her  two  uncles. 

''Wliat  would  bocome  of  us  if  (ho  Kin<f  slio\dd  die?" 
rojilird  (ho  Cardinal.  "Cadicrinc  would  hurl  us  ail  into  lii3 
grave." 

And  so  that  night  the  question  stood  plainly  s(ated  hetwcen 
Catherine  de'  Medici  and  (lie  llouse  of  Lorraine,  'l'he  ar- 
rivai of  the  Chancellor  and  the  Connétable  de  j\Iontniorency 
pointed  to  rébellion,  and  (ho  dawn  of  (lie  inorrow  would 
prove  décisive. 

On  the  following  day  the  Queen-mother  was  the  first  to 
appear.  She  found  no  one  in  her  son's  room  but  Mary  Stuart, 
pale  and  fatigued  from  having  passed  the  night  in  prayer  by 
the  bedside.  The  Duchesse  de  Guise  had  kept  the  Queen 
Company,  and  tho  nuiids  of  honor  had  relieved  each  other. 
The  young  King  was  asleep. 

Neither  the  Duke  nor  the  Cardinal  had  yet  appeared.  The 
prelate,  more  daring  than  the  soldier,  had  spent  this  last 
night,  it  is  said,  in  véhément  argument,  without  being  able 
to  induce  the  Duke  to  proclaim  himself  King.  With  the 
Statcs-General  sitting  in  the  town,  and  the  prospect  of  a 
battle  to  be  fought  with  the  Constable,  the  "Balafré"  did 
not  think  the  opportunity  favorable;  he  refused  to  arrest  the 
Queen-mother,  the  Chancellor,  Cardinal  de  Toumon,  the 
Gondis,  Euggieri,  and  Birague,  in  face  of  the  revolt  that 
would  inevitably  resuit  from  such  violent  measures.  He  made 
his  brother's  schemes  dépendent  on  the  life  of  Francis  II. 

Perfect  silence  reigned  in  the  King's  bedchamber.  Cath- 
erine, attended  by  Madame  de  Fieschi,  came  to  the  bedside 
and  gazed  at  her  son  with  an  admirable  assumption  of  grief. 
She  held  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and  retreated  to  the 
window,  where  Madame  de  Fieschi  brought  her  a  chair. 
From  thence  she  could  look  down  into  the  courtyard. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  181 

It  had  bcen  agreed  between  Catherine  and  Cardinal  de 
Toumon  that  if  Montmorency  got  safely  into  the  town,  he, 
the  Cardinal,  would  corne  to  lier,  accompanied  by  the  two 
Gondis;  in  case  of  disaster,  he  was  to  come  alone.  At  nine 
in  the  morning  the  two  Princes  of  Lorraine,  accompanied  by 
their  suite,  who  remained  in  the  hall,  came  to  the  King's 
room.  The  captain  on  duty  had  informed  them  that  Am- 
broise  Paré  had  but  just  arrived  with  Chapelain  and  three 
other  physicians,  prompted  by  Catherine,  and  ail  hating  Am- 
broise. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  great  hall  of  the  Bailliage  presented 
precisely  the  same  appearance  as  the  guardroom  at  Blois  on 
the  day  when  the  Duc  de  Guise  was  appointed  Lieutenant- 
General  of  the  kingdom,  and  when-  Christophe  was  tortured  ; 
with  only  this  différence,  that  then  love  and  glee  reigned  in 
the  royal  rooms,  and  that  the  Guises  were  triumphant; 
whereas  now  death  and  grief  prevailed,  and  the  Princes  of 
Lorraine  felt  the  power  slipping  from  their  grasp. 

The  maids  of  honor  of  the  two  Queens  were  grouped  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  great  fireplace,  where  an  immense  fire 
was  blazing.    The  room  was  full  of  courtiers. 

The  news,  repeated  no  one  knows  by  whom,  of  a  bold  plan 
of  Ambroise  Paré's  for  saving  the  King's  life,  brought  in 
every  gentleman  who  had  any  right  to  appear  at  Court.  The 
outer  steps  of  the  house  and  the  courtyard  were  thronged 
with  anjcious  groups.  The  scaffold  erected  for  the  Prince, 
opposite  the  Convent  of  the  Eécollets,  astonished  ail  the 
nobles.  People  spoke  in  whispers,  and  hère,  as  at  Blois,  the 
conversation  was  a  mediey  of  serious  and  frivolous  subjects, 
of  grave  and  trivial  talk.  They  were  beginning  to  feel  used 
to  turmoils,  to  sudden  rébellion,  to  a  rush  to  arms,  to  revolts, 
to  the  great  and  sudden  events  which  marked  the  long  period 
during  which  the  House  of  Valois  was  dying  out,  in  spite  of 
Queen  Catherine's  efforts.  Deep  silence  was  kept  for  some 
distance  outside  the  bedroom  door,  where  two  men-at-arms 
were  on  guard,  with  two  pages,  and  the  captain  of  the  Scotch 
Company. 
la 


isj  AHorr  ('AiMiKUiMc  Dir  Micnict 

Anioiiu'  (11-  H<miiIhiii,  a  luiMHici'  iii  liis  lod^inj^s,  findiiif; 
hiiiisflf  iiogloclril,  iiiiilcistdod  ilii-  li(>|tcs  of  llic  cou l'iii'rs  ;  lie 
wa^i  ovorwlu'InuHl  al,  Iirariiig  of  llic  incpai-ations  madc  dni'inji; 
j  thc  ni_i,dit  for  liis  hrollicr's  l'xi'c'iilion. 

In  frortt  of  tho  hall  liivi)hu'<.'  slood  ono  of  thc  fincst  and 
grandi'st  ligurt^  of  his  tinio,  the  ('hanc'c'IK)r  de  rilùpital, 
in  his  criinson  robes  bordcred  witli  omiino,  and  woaring  hîs 
square  cap,  in  right  of  his  olliee.  This  brave  iiiaii,  regardinj^ 
liis  bonofactors  as  the  leaders  of  a  rébellion,  had  tspoused  the 
cause  of  his  king,  as  rejjresenled  by  the  Quecin-iuolher;  and 
at  the  risk  of  his  liead  lie  had  gone  to  Écouen  lo  eonsull  tho 
Connétable  de  j\Iontnioreney.  No  onc  dared  to  disturb  the 
méditations  in  wliicli  lie  \\a.s  plunged.  Kobertet,  the  Secre- 
tarj'  of  State,  two  niarshals  of  France,  Vieilleville  and  Saint- 
André,  and  the  Keeper  of  the  Seals,  fornied  a  group  in  front 
of  the  Chancellor. 

The  nien  of  the  Court  were  not  actually  laughing,  but 
their  tone  was  sprightly,  especially  among  tliose  who  were 
disaffectcd  to  the  Guises. 

The  Cardinal  had  at  la&t  secured  Stuart,  the  Scotchnian 
wlio  had  murdered  Président  Minard,  and  was  arranging 
for  liis  trial  at  'J'ours.  He  had  also  confinod  in  the  châteaux 
of  Blois  and  of  Tours  a  considérable  number  of  gentlemen 
who  had  seemed  comproraised,  to  inspire  a  certain  degree 
of  terror  in  llie  nobles;  they,  however,  were  not  terrified,  but 
saw  in  the  Reformation  a  fulcrum  for  the  love  of  résistance 
they  derived  from  a  feeling  of  their  inborn  equality  with 
the  King.  Now,  the  prisoners  at  Blois  had  contrived  to  es- 
cape,  and,  by  a  singular  fatality,  tliose  who  had  been  shut  up 
at  Tours  had  just  followed  their  example. 

"Madame,"  said  the  Cardinal  de  Châtillon  to  Madame  de 
Fieschi,  "if  any  one  takes  au  interest  in  the  prisoners  from 
Tours,  they  are  in  the  greatest  danger." 

On  hearing  this  speech,  the  Chancellor  looked  round  at  the 
group  of  the  elder  Queen's  maids  of  honor. 

"Yes,  for  young  Desvaux,  the  Prince  de  Condé's  equerry, 
who  was  imprisoned  at  Tours,  added  a  bitter  jest  to  his  escape. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  183 

He  is  said  to  hâve  written  a  note  to  Messieurs  de  Guise  to  tkis 
effect  : 

"  *We  hâve  heard  of  thc  escape  of  your  prisoners  at  Blois  ; 
it  has  grieved  us  so  much,  that  we  are  about  to  run  after 
them;  we  will  bring  them  back  to  you  as  soon  as  we  hâve 
arrested  them.'  " 

Though  he  relished  this  pleasantry,  the  Chaneellor  looked 
sternly  at  Monsieur  de  Châtillon. 

At  this  instant  louder  voices  were  heard  in  the  King's 
bedchamber.  The  two  niarshals,  with  Kobertet  and  the  Chan- 
eellor, went  forward,  for  it  was  not  merely  a  question  of  life 
and  death  to  the  King;  everybody  was  in  the  secret  of  the 
danger  to  the  Chaneellor,  to  Catherine,  and  to  her  adhérents. 
The  silence  that  ensued  was  absolute. 

Ambroise  had  examined  the  King;  the  moment  seemed 
favorable  for  the  opération  ;  if  it  were  not  performed,  he  might 
die  at  any  moment.  As  soon  as  the  brothers  de  Guise  came  in, 
he  explained  to  them  the  causes  of  the  King's  sufferings,  and 
demonstrated  that  in  such  extremities  trepanning  was  abso- 
lutely  necessary.  He  only  awaited  the  décision  of  the  phy- 
sicians. 

"Pierce  my  son's  skull  as  if  it  were  a  board,  and  with  that 
horrible  instrument  !"  cried  Catherine  de'  Medici.  "Maître 
Ambroise,  I  will  not  permit  it." 

The  doctors  were  eonsulting,  but  Catherine  spoke  so  loud 
that,  as  she  intended,  her  words  were  heard  in  the  outer  room. 

"But,  madame,  if  that  is  the  only  hope  of  saving  him?" 
said  Mary  Stuart,  weeping. 

"Ambroise,"  said  Catherine,  "remember  that  you  answer 
for  the  King  with  your  head." 

"We  are  opposed  to  the  means  proposed  by  Maître  Am- 
broise," said  the  three  physicians.  "The  King  may  be  saved 
by  injecting  a  remedy  into  the  ear  which  will  release  the 
humors  through  that  passage." 


ISl  ABOUT  CATIlEUINt:  DE'   MEDICI 

The  Due  de  Ouise,  wlio  was  studylng  t'athei-ine's  face,  sud- 
denly  went  up  lo  lier,  aiul  Icd  lier  inlo  Ihe  window-bay. 

**You,  niadaiiie,"  said  he,  "wish  your  son  to  die;  you  are 
iu  collusion  wiih  venir  l'iiciiiios,  and  tliat  siuce  we  came  froni 
Blois.  This  morning  Couneillor  Viole  told  your  furrier's 
Bon  that  thc  Trinee  de  Condé  was  to  be  bulicaded.  That  young 
nian,  wbo,  uuder  torture,  luul  donird  ail  knowledge  of  the 
l'riuee  de  C'ondé,  gave  lu  m  a  farcwcll  greeting  as  he  passed 
the  window  of  the  lad's  prison.  You  looked.  on  at  your  hap- 
less  accomplice's  sufîerings  with  royal  indiiïerence.  Now,  you 
are  opposed  to  your  cldest  son's  life  being  saved.  You  will 
force  us  to  believe  that  the  death  of  the  Dauphin,  which 
placed  the  crown  on  Ihe  head  of  the  late  Xiug,  was  not 
ualural,  but  that  Monteeuculi  was  your " 

"Monsieur  le  Chancelier!"  Catherine  called  ont,  and  at 
this  signal  ^ladanie  de  Fieschi  threw  open  the  double  doors 
of  the  bedchaniber. 

The  persons  assemblcd  in  the  hall  could  thus  see  the  whole 
ucene  in  the  King's  room:  the  little  King,  deadly  pale,  his 
features  sunk,  his  eyes  dini,  but  repeating  the  word.  "Marie," 
wliile  he  held  Ihe  hand  of  the  young  Queen,  who  was  weeping  ; 
the  Duchesse  de  Guise  standing,  terrified  by  Catherine's  au- 
dacity;  the  two  Princes  of  Lorraine,  not  less  anxious,  but 
keeping  close  to  the  Queen-mother,  and  resolved  to  hâve  her 
arrested  by  Maillé-Brézé;  and  finally,  the  great  surgeon  Am- 
broise  Paré,  with  the  King's  physician.  He  stood  holding 
his  instruments,  but  not  daring  to  perform  the  opération, 
for  which  perfect  quiet  was  as  necessary  as  the  approbation 
of  the  médical  authorities. 

"Monsieur  le  Chancelier,"  said  Catherine,  "Messieurs  de 
Guise  wish  to  authorize  a  strange  opération  on  the  King's 
person.  Ambroise  proposes  to  perforate  his  head.  I,  as  his 
mother,  and  one  of  the  commission  of  Eegency,  protest 
against  what  seems  to  me  to  be  high  treason.  The  three 
physicians  are  in  favor  of  an  injection  which,  to  me,  seems 
quite  as  eflficacious  and  less  dangerous  than  the  cruel  process 
recommended  by  Ambroise." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE"   MEDICI  185 

At  thèse  words  there  was  a  dull  murmur  in  reply.  The 
Cardinal  admitted  the  Chancellor,  and  then  shut  the  bedroom 
doors. 

"But  I  am  Lieutenant-General  of  the  realm,"  said  the  Duc 
de  Guise,  "and  you  must  understand,  Monsieur  le  Chancelier, 
that  Ambroise,  surgeon  to  his  Majesty,  answers  for  the  King's 
Ufe." 

"Well,  since  this  is  the  state  of  affairs,"  said  the  great 
Ambroise  Paré,  "I  know  what  to  be  doing." 

He  put  ont  his  arm  over  the  bed. 

"This  bed  and  the  King  are  mine,"  said  he.  "I  constitute 
myself  the  sole  master,  and  singly  responsible  ;  I  know  the 
duties  of  my  office,  and  I  will  operate  on  the  King  without 
the  physicians'  sanction." 

"Save  him!"  cried  the  Cardinal,  "and  you  shall  be  the 
richest  man  in  France." 

"Only  go  on  !"  said  Mary  Stuart,  pressing  Paré's  hand. 

"I  cannot  interfère,"  said  the  Chancellor,  %ut  I  shall 
record  the  Queen-mother's  protest." 

"Eobertet,"  the  Duc  de  Guise  called  out. 

Robertet  came  in,  and  the  Duke  pointed  to  the  Chancellor. 

"You  are  Chancellor  of  France,"  he  said,  "in  the  place  of 
this  félon.  Monsieur  de  Maillé,  take  Monsieur  de  l'Hôpital 
to  prison  with  the  Prince  de  Condé. — As  to  you,  madame," 
and  he  turned  to  Catherine,  "your  protest  will  not  be  recog- 
nized,  and  you  would  do  well  to  remember  that  such  actions 
need  the  support  of  adéquate  force.  I  am  acting  as  a  faithfui 
and  loyal  subject  of  King  Francis  II.,  my  sovereign. — Pro- 
ceed,  Ambroise,"  he  said  to  the  surgeon. 

"Monsieur  de  Guise,"  said  l'Hôpital,  "if  you  use  any  vio- 
lence, either  on  the  person  of  the  King  or  on  that  of  his 
Chancellor,  remember  that  in  the  hall  without  there  is  enough 
French  nobility  to  arrest  ail  traitors." 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen,"  said  the  surgeon,  "if  you  prolong 
this  debate,  you  may  as  well  shout  'Vive  Charles  IX.,'  for 
King  Francis  is  dying." 

Catherine  stood  unmoved,  looking  out  of  window. 


isn  AUDI"!'  CAl'lIllin.MO    Dir    MHDICI 

"Wcll,  thon,  \vo  will  uso  force  to  rcinain  maslcrs  in  tlic 
King's  bodrooni,"  yiiitî  tlic  t'ardinal,  tryin^  to  kocp  tlio  door; 
but  ho  was  startlod  and  liorrilîod,  for  tho  ^roat  hall  was  quito 
dosortod.  The  Court,  sure  that  the  Kin^  was  dyiiif^,  liad 
gone  back  to  Antoine  of  Xavarro. 

"Corne;  do  it,  do  il,"  cried  Mary  Stuart  lo  Ainbroisc. — "I 
and  you,  Duchcss,"  she  said  to  Madame  de  (Juise,  "will  pro- 
tect  you." 

"Xay,  madame,"  said  Paré,  "my  zeal  earriod  me  too  far; 
the  docfors,  with  tho  oxocptinii  oT  my  friciid  Cliapolain,  arc 
in  favor  of  the  injection;  1  mustyiold  tu  thcin.  If  1  were 
physicien  and  surgeon-in-chief,  he  could  be  savcd  ! — Give  it 
me,"  he  said,  taking  a  small  syringe  from  the  hand  of  the 
chief  physicien,  and  filliug  it. 

"Good  God  !"  cried  Mary  Stiiart  ;  "I  command  you " 

"Alas  !  madame,"  replied  Paré,  "I  am  subordinate  to  thèse 
gentlemen." 

The  young  Queen  and  the  Duchesse  de  Guise  stood  botween 
the  surgeon  and  the  doctors  and  the  other  persons  présent. 
The  chief  physician  held  the  King's  head,  and  Ambroise 
made  the  injection  into  the  ear.  The  two  Princes  of  Lor- 
raine were  watchful;  Robertet  and  Monsieur  de  Maillé  stood 
motionless.  At  a  sign  from  Catherine,  Madame  de  Fieschi 
left  the  room  unnoticed.  At  the  same  instant  l'Hôpital  boldly 
threw  open  the  door  of  the  King's  bedroom. 

"I  hâve  arrived  in  the  nick  of  time,"  exclaimed  a  man, 
whose  hasty  steps  rang  through  the  hall,  and  who,  in  another 
minute,  was  at  the  door  of  the  King's  room.  "What,  gentle- 
men !  You  thought  to  eut  off  my  fine  nephew,  the  Prince  de 
Condé's  head? — You  hâve  roused  the  lion  from  his  lair,  and 
hère  he  is  !"  added  the  Connétable  de  Montmorency. — "Am- 
broise, you  are  not  to  stir  up  my  King's  brains  with  your 
instruments  !  The  Kings  of  France  do  not  allow  themselves 
to  be  knocked  about  in  that  way  unless  by  thcir  enemies'  sword 
in  fair  fight  !  The  lirst  Prince  of  the  Blood,  Antoine  de 
Bourbon,  the  Prince  de  Condé,  the  Queen-mother,  and  the 
Chancellor  are  ail  opposed  to  the  opération." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  187 

To  Cathcrinc's  great  satisfaction,  thc  King  of  Navarre 
and  the  Prince  de  Condé  botli  made  their  appearance, 

**What  is  the  mefining  of  this  ?"  said  the  Duc  de  Guise,  lay- 
ing  his  hand  on  his  poniard. 

"As  Lord  Iligh  Constable,  I  hâve  dismissed  ail  the  sentinels 
from  their  posts.  Blood  and  thunder!  we  are  not  in  an 
enemy's  country,  I  suppose.  The  King  our  Master  is  sur- 
rounded  by  his  subjects,  and  the  States-Gcneral  of  the  realm 
may  deliberato  in  pcrfect  liberty.  I  hâve  just  corne  from  the 
Assembly.  gentlemen;  I  laid  before  it  the  protest  of  my 
nephew  de  Condé,  who  has  been  rescued  by  three  hundred 
gentlemen.  You  meant  to  let  the  royal  blood,  and  to  deci- 
mate  the  nobility  of  France.  Henceforth  I  shall  not  trust 
anything  you  propose.  Messieurs  de  Lorraine.  And  if  you 
give  the  order  for  the  King's  head  to  be  opened,  by  this 
sword,  which  saved  France  from  Charles  V.,  I  say  it  shall 
not  be  donc 1" 

"Ail  the  more  so,"  said  Ambroise  Paré,  "because  it  is  toc 
late,  suffusion  has  begun." 

**Your  reign  is  over,  gentlemen,"  said  Catherine  to  the  two 
Guises,  seeing  from  Paré's  manner  that  there  was  now  no 
hope. 

"You,  madame,  bave  killed  your  son  !"  said  Mary  Stuart, 
springing  like  a  lioiness  from  the  bed  to  the  window,  and  seiz- 
ing  the  Italian  Queen  by  the  arm  with  a  véhément  clutch. 

"My  dear,"  replied  Catherine  de'  Medici,  with  a  keen,  cold 
look  that  expressed  the  hatred  she  had  suppressed  for  six 
months  past,  "you,  to  whose  violent  passion  this  death  is 
due,  will  now  go  to  reign  over  your  own  Scotland — and  you 
will  go  to-morrow.  I  am  now  Eegent  in  fact  as  well  as  in 
name." 

The  three  physicians  had  made  a  sign  to  the  Queen-mother. 

"Gentlemen,"  she  went  on,  addressing  the  Guises,  "it  is 
an  understood  thing  between  Monsieur  de  Bourbon — whom  I 
hereby  appoint  Lieutenant-General  of  the  kingdom — and  my- 
self  that  the  conduct  of  affairs  is  our  business. — Come,  Mon- 
sieur le  Chancelier." 


1S8  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

"Tho  Kin^  is  doad  !"  suid  the  (iraïul  Maslcr,  obligod  to 
carry  out  the  functions  of  his  olVico. 

"God  snve  King  Charles  IX.!"  cricd  tlio  pontlcmcfn  who 
had  corne  with  the  King  of  Navarre,  the  Prince  de  Condé, 
and  tho  Constable. 

The  coronionics  pcrformod  wlicn  a  King  of  France  dies 
wcro  carriod  ont  in  poliludo.  Whon  tho  king-at-arnis  callod 
out  thrco  tinics  in  tho  great  hall,  "Tho  King  is  doad  !"  after 
tho  officiai  announccment  by  the  Duc  do  Guise,  thero  were  but 
a  fcw  persons  présent  to  answer — "God  save  the  King!" 

The  Quecn-niothcr,  to  whom  the  Countcss  Fieschi  brought 
the  Duc  d'Orléans,  now  Charles  IX.,  left  the  room  loading 
tho  boy  by  the  hand,  and  followed  by  the  whole  Court.  Only 
the  two  Guises,  the  Duchesse  de  Guise,  Mary  Stuart,  and 
Dayelle  remained  in  the  room  where  Francis  II.  had  breathed 
his  last,  with  two  guards  at  the  door,  the  Grand  Master's 
pages  and  the  Cardinal's,  and  their  two  private  secretaries. 

"Vive  la  France  !"  shouted  some  of  the  Eeformers,  a  first 
cr\'  of  opposition. 

Eobertet,  who  owed  everything  to  the  Duke  and  the  Car- 
dinal, terrified  by  their  schcmes  and  their  abortive  attempts, 
secretly  attached  himself  to  the  Queen-mother,  whom  the 
Ambassadors  of  Spain,  England,  the  German  Empire,  and 
Poland  met.  on  the  stairs,  at  their  hcad  Cardinal  Tournon, 
who  had  gone  to  call  them  after  looking  up  from  the  court- 
yard  to  Catherine  de'  Medici  just  as  she  was  protesting 
against  Ambroise  Paré's  opération. 

*^ell,  the  sons  of  Louis  d'Outre-Mer,  the  descendants  of 
Charles  de  Lorraine,  hâve  proved  cravens,"  said  the  Cardinal 
to  the  Duke. 

"They  would  hâve  been  packed  off  to  Lorraine,"  replied 
his  brother.  "I  déclare  to  you,  Charles,"  he  went  on,  "if 
the  crown  were  there  for  the  taking,  I  would  not  put  out  my 
hand  for  it.    That  will  be  my  son's  task." 

''Will  he  ever  hâve  the  anny  and  the  Church  on  his  side 
as  you  hâve?" 

"He  will  hâve  something  better." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  189 

"What?" 

"The  people." 

"And  there  is  no  one  to  mourn  for  him  but  me — the  poor 
boy  who  loved  me  so  well  !"  said  Mary  Stuart,  holding  the 
cold  hand  of  her  first  husband. 

"How  can  we  be  reconciled  to  the  Queen?"  said  the  Car- 
dinal. 

"Wait  till  she  quarrels  with  the  Huguenots,"  said  the 
Duchess. 

The  clashing  interests  of  the  House  of  Bourbon,  of  Cath- 
erine, of  the  Guises,  and  of  the  Eeformers  produced  such 
confusion  in  Orléans,  that  it  was  not  till  three  days  after  that 
the  King's  body,  quite  forgotten  where  it  lay,  was  placed  in 
a  coffin  by  obscure  serving  men,  and  carried  to  Saint-Denis 
in  a  covered  vehiele,  followed  only  by  the  Bishop  of  Senlis 
and  two  gentlemen.  When  this  dismal  little  procession  ar- 
rived  at  the  town  of  Etampes,  a  follower  of  the  Chancellor  de 
l'Hôpital  attached  to  the  hearse  this  bitter  inscription,  which 
history  has  recorded  :  "Tanneguy  du  Chastel,  where  are  you  ? 
Yet  you  too  were  French  !"  A  stinging  innuendo,  striking  at 
Catherine,  Mary  Stuart,  and  the  Guises.  For  what  French- 
man  does  not  know  that  Tanneguy  du  Chastel  spent  thirty 
thousand  crowns  (a  million  of  francs  in  thèse  days)  on  the 
obsequies  of  Charles  VII.,  the  benefactor  of  his  family? 

As  soon  as  the  tolling  bells  announced  the  death  of  Francis 
II.,  and  the  Connétable  de  Montmorency  had  thrown  open 
the  gâtes  of  the  town,  Tourillon  went  up  to  his  hayloft  and 
made  his  way  to  a  hiding-place. 

"What,  can  he  be  dead?"  exclaimed  the  glover. 

On  hearing  the  voice,  a  man  rose  and  replied,  "Prît  à 
servir"  ('•'Keady  to  serve,"  or  "Eeady,  aye  ready''),  the 
watchword  of  the  Eeformers  of  Calvin's  sect. 

This  man  was  Chaudieu,  to  whom  Tourillon  related  the 
events  of  the  last  week,  during  which  he  had  left  the  preacher 
alone  in  his  hiding-place,  with  a  twelve-ounce  loaf  for  his  sole 
sustenance. 


190  ABOUT  ("ATIIKKINK   DE'  MEDICI 

"Be  ofT  to  tlio  Princr  de  Condé,  hrotluT,  nsk  him  for  a  safe- 
coiuîuct  for  ino,  niul  lind  iiio  a  liorsc,"  crird  (ho  proachor.  "I 
niust  t>ot  ont  tliis  nioniont." 

"Write  him  a  line  thcn,  that  I  may  bc  adinitted." 

"ilcrc,"  said  Chaudiou,  after  writing  a  feu-  lines,  "ask  for 
a  pass  from  tho  King  of  Navarre,  for  undcr  e.xistiiig  circum- 
Btancos  I  imist  hastcii  to  Cîenova.'' 

Wilhin  (\vo  hours  ail  was  rcady,  and  Ihe  zcalous  iiiinistcr 
was  on  his  way  to  (îoneva,  escortcd  by  one  of  ihe  King  of 
Navarre's  gentlemen,  whone  secretary  Chaudieu  was  supposed 
to  bc,  and  who  uns  ihe  bearer  of  instructions  to  the  Ke- 
formed  party  in  Daupliiué. 

Chaiulieu's  suddcn  departure  was  at  once  pcrniitted,  to 
further  the  interests  of  Queen  Catherine,  who,  to  gain  time, 
niade  a  bold  suggestion  which  was  kept  a  profound  secret. 
Tins  startling  schemc  accounts  for  the  agreement  so  unex- 
pectedly  arrived  at  between  the  Queen  and  the  leaders  of  the 
Protestant  party.  The  crafty  woman  had,  as  a  guarantee  of 
hcr  good  faith,  expressed  a  désire  to  heal  the  breach  between 
tho  two  Churches  in  an  assembly  which  could  be  neiiher 
a  Synod,  nor  a  Council,  nor  a  Convocation,  for  which  indeed 
a  new  name  was  needed,  and,  above  ail  else,  Calvin's  consent. 
It  may  be  said  in  passing,  that,  when  this  mystery  came  out, 
it  led  to  tho  alliance  of  the  Guises  with  the  Connétable  de 
Montmorency  against  Catherine  and  the  King  of  Navarre — 
a  strange  coalition,  known  to  history  as  the  Triumvirate, 
because  the  Maréchal  do  Saint-André  was  the  third  person 
in  this  purely  Catholic  combination,  to  which  Catherine's 
strange  proposai  for  a  meeting  gave  rise.  The  Guises  were 
then  enabled  to  judge  very  shrewdly  of  Catherine's  policy; 
they  saw  that  the  Queen  cared  little  enough  for  this  assembly, 
and  only  wanted  to  temporize  with  her  allies  till  Charles  IX. 
should  be  of  âge;  indeed,  they  deceived  Montmorency  by  mak- 
ing  him  believe  in  a  collusion  between  Catherine  and  the 
Bourbons,  while  Catherine  was  taking  them  ail  in.  The 
Queen,  it  will  be  seen,  had  in  a  short  time  made  great  strides. 

The  spirit  of  argument  and  discussion  which  was  then  in 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  191 

the  air  was  particularly  favorable  to  tliis  scheme.  The 
Catliolics  and  the  Huguenots  were  ail  to  shinc  in  turn  in 
this  tournanient  of  words.  Indeed,  that  is  exactly  what  hap- 
pened.  Is  it  not  extraordinary  that  historians  should  hâve 
mistaken  the  Queen's  shrcwdest  craft  for  hesitancy?  Cath- 
erine never  went  more  dircctly  to  the  end  she  had  in  view 
than  when  she  seemed  to  hâve  turncd  lier  back  on  it.  So 
the  King  of  Navarre,  incapable  of  fathoming  Catherine's  mo- 
tives, despatched  Chaudieu  to  Calvin;  Chaudieu  having 
secretly  intendcd  to  watch  the  course  of  events  at  Orléans, 
where  he  ran,  every  hour,  the  risk  of  being  seized  and  hanged 
without  trial,  like  any  man  who  had  been  condemned  to  ban- 
ishment. 

At  the  rate  of  traveling  then  possible  Chaudieu  could  not 
reach  Gène  va  before  the  month  of  February,  the  negotiations 
could  not  be  completed  till  March,  and  the  meeting  could  not 
be  called  till  the  beginning  of  May  1561.  Catherine  in- 
tended  to  amuse  the  Court  meanwhile,  and  lull  party-feeling 
by  the  King's  coronation,  and  by  his  first  Bed  of  Justice  in 
the  Parlement  when  l'Hôpital  and  de  Thou  passed  the  royal 
letter,  by  which  Charles  IX.  intrusted  the  Government  of 
the  kingdom  to  his  mother,  seconded  by  Antoine  de  Navarre 
as  Lieutenant-General  of  the  realm — the  weakest  prince  of 
his  time. 

Was  it  not  one  of  the  strangest  things  of  that  day  to  see 
a  whole  kingdom  in  suspense  for  the  Yea  or  Nay  of  a  French 
citizen,  risen  from  obscurity,  and  living  at  Geneva?  The 
Pope  of  Eome  held  in  check  by  the  Pope  of  Geneva?  The 
tvro  Princes  of  Lorraine,  once  so  powerful,  paralyzed  by  the 
brief  concord  between  the  first  Prince  of  the  Blood,  the 
Queen-mother,  and  Calvin  ?  Is  it  not  one  of  the  most  preg- 
nant  lessons  that  history  bas  preserved  to  kings,  a  lesson  that 
should  teach  them  to  judge  of  men,  to  give  genius  its  due 
without  any  hésitation,  and  to  seek  it  ont,  as  Louis  XIV. 
did,  wherever  God  bas  hidden  it? 

Calvin,  whose  real  name  was  not  Calvin,  but  Cauvin,  was 
the  son  of  a  cooper  at  Noyon,  in  Picardy.     Calvin's  birth- 


102  ABOUT  CATllElUNE  DE'   MEDICI 

place  acoounts  to  a  oortain  dogroc  for  tho  obstinaoy  minglod 
with  oi'c'i'iUrie  irritability  wliu'li  characU'ri/A'd  tho  arbiter  of 
the  di'stinies  of  France  in  the  sixteenth  century.  No  one  is 
less  known  than  this  nian,  wlio  wa;?  ihe  inaker  of  Geneva  and 
of  the  spirit  of  its  pcople.  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  who 
kncw  little  nf  history,  was  utterly  ignorant  of  this  nian's 
intluencc  on  liis  Hepublic. 

At  first,  indccd,  Calvin,  dwelling  in  one  of  tiie  huniblest 
houscs  in  tiic  uppcr  town,  near  the  Protestant  Church  of 
Saint-Pierre,  ovcr  a  carpcnter's  shop — one  point  of  reseni- 
blance  bctwecn  hini  and  Robespierre — had  no  great  authority 
in  Geneva.  Ilis  influence  was  for  a  long  tinie  checked  by 
the  hatrcd  of  the  Genevese. 

In  the  sixteenth  century  Geneva  could  boast  of  Farel,  one 
of  those  famous  citizens  who  hâve  reniained  unknovvn  to  the 
world,  some  of  them  even  to  Geneva  itself.  In  the  year  1537, 
or  thereabouts,  tliis  Farel  attached  Calvin  to  Geneva  by 
pointing  out  to  him  that  it  might  beconie  the  stronghold  of 
a  reformation  more  thorough  than  that  of  Luther.  Farel  and 
Cauvin  looked  on  Lutheranism  as  an  incomplète  achieve- 
mcnt,  inellectual,  and  with  no  hold  on  France.  Geneva, 
lying  between  France  and  Italy,  speaking  the  French  tongue, 
was  admirably  placed  for  communicating  with  Germany, 
Italy,  and  France.  Calvin  adoptcd  Geneva  as  the  seat  of 
his  spiritual  fortunes,  and  niade  it  the  citadel  of  his  dogmas. 
At  Farel's  request,  the  town  council  of  Geneva  authorized 
Calvin  to  lecture  on  thcology  in  the  month  of  September 
1538.  Calvin  left  preaching  to  Farel,  his  first  disciple,  and 
patiently  devoted  himself  to  teaching  his  doctrine.  His 
authority,  which  in  later  years  of  his  life  was  para- 
mount,  took  long  to  establish.  The  great  leader  met  with 
serious  difficulties  ;  he  was  even  banished  from  Geneva  for 
some  time  in  conséquence  of  the  austerity  of  his  doctrines. 
There  was  a  party  of  very  good  folk  who  clung  to  the  old 
luxury  and  customs  of  their  fathers.  But,  as  is  always  the 
case,  thèse  worthy  people  dreaded  ridicule  ;  they  would  not 
admit  what  was  the  real  objeet  of  their  struggles,  and  the 
battle  was  fought  over  détails  apart  from  the  real  question. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  1»3 

Calvin  insisted  on  leavened  broad  being  used  for  the  Sacra- 
ment,  and  on  there  being  no  holy  days  but  Sunday.  Thèse 
innovations  were  disapproved  of  at  Berne  and  at  Lausanne. 
The  Genevese  were  required  to  conform  to  the  ritual  of 
Switzerland.  Calvin  and  Farel  resisted;  their  political  ene- 
mies  made  a  prétest  of  this  refractoriness  to  exile  them  from 
Geneva,  whence  they  were  banished  for  some  years.  At  a 
later  period  Calvin  came  back  in  triumph,  invited  by  tiis 
flock. 

Such  persécution  is  always  a  consécration  of  moral  power 
when  the  prophet  can  wait.  And  this  return  was  the  era  of 
this  Mahomet.  Executions  began,  and  Calvin  organized  his 
religious  Terror.  As  soon  as  this  commanding  spirit  reap- 
peared,  he  was  admitted  to  the  citizenship  of  Geneva;  but 
after  fourteen  years'  résidence  there,  he  was  not  yet  on  the 
Coimcil.  At  the  time  when  Catherine  was  despatching  a  min- 
ister  to  treat  with  him,  this  king  in  the  realm  of  thought  had 
no  title  but  that  of  Pastor  of  the  Church  of  Geneva.  Indeed, 
Calvin  never  had  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  francs  a 
year  in  money,  fifteen  hundred-weight  of  corn  and  two  casks 
of  wine  for  his  whole  rémunération.  His  brother,  a  tailor, 
kept  a  shop  a  few  paces  away  from  the  Place  Saint-Pierre, 
in  a  Street  where  one  of  Calvin's  printing-places  may  still  be 
seen. 

Such  disinterestedness,  which  in  Voltaire  and  Baker  was 
lacking,  but  which  is  conspicuous  in  the  life  of  Eabelais,  of 
Campanella,  of  Luther,  of  Vico,  of  Descartes,  of  Male- 
branche,  of  Spinoza,  of  Loyola,  of  Kant,  and  of  Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau,  surely  forms  a  noble  setting  for  thèse  sublime  and 
ardent  soûls. 

Robespierre's  life,  so  like  that  of  Calvin,  can  alone  per- 
haps  enable  our  contemporaries  to  understand  Calvin's.  He 
founding  his  power  on  a  similar  basis,  was  as  cruel  and  as 
tyrannical  as  the  Arras  lawyer.  It  is  strange  too  that 
Picardy — Arras  and  Noyon-^should  hâve  given  to  the  world 
thèse  two  great  instruments  of  reform.  Those  who  examine 
into  the  motives  of  the  exécutions  ordered  by  Calvin  will  find, 


mi  AHori"  cA'iiii'iijiNK  nir  miodici 

on  ;i  (lilTt-iTiit  scalt',  no  doiiht,  ;ill  of  ITil.'J  al  (Jt'noa.  Calvin 
luul  .huHiiu's  (iriu't  bchcailod  "for  liaving  writlcn  iinpioua 
lettors  ami  worKilv  verse,  and  lalxiind  to  ovcrlhrow  Church 
ordinances."  Just  considcr  tins  sentence,  and  ask  yourself 
if  the  worst  despotisin  can  show  in  its  annals  a  more  ab- 
surdly  prej)os(erous  indicinn^nl. 

Valentin  (Jenlilis,  eomlemned  to  dealh  for  invoiuntary 
heresy,  escapcd  the  scalTold  only  hy  makiiij;  more  humiliating 
ameuds  than  ever  were  intlicted  by  the  Catholic  Church, 
Seven  years  before  the  conférence  presently  to  be  held  in 
Calvin's  house  on  the  (^ueen-mother's  proposais,  Michel  Ser- 
vet  (or  Servetus),  a  Frenchman,  passing  through  Ceneva, 
was  put  in  prison,  tried,  condemned  on  Calvin's  testiniony, 
and  burned  alive  for  liaving  attacked  the  niystery  of  the 
Trinity  in  a  work  which  had  not  been  either  composed  or 
printed  at  Geneva.  Compare  with  this  tho  cloquent  dcfence 
of  Jean-Jacques  Rousseau,  whose  book,  attacking  the  Catholic 
religion,  written  in  France  and  publishcd  in  Ilolland,  was 
indeed  burned  by  the  hand  of  the  executioner;  but  the  writer, 
a  foreigner,  was  only  banished  frora  the  kingdom,  where  he 
had  been  trying  to  strike  at  the  fundamental  truths  of  re- 
ligion and  government;  and  compare  the  conduct  of  the 
Parlement  with  that  of  the  Genevese  tyrant. 

Boisée,  again,  was  brought  to  judgment  for  having  other 
ideas  than  Calvin  on  the  subject  of  prédestination.  Weigh  ail 
this,  and  say  whether  Fouquier-Tinville  did  anything  worse. 
Calvin's  fierce  religions  intolérance  was,  morally  speaking, 
more  intense,  more  implacable,  than  the  fierce  political  in- 
tolérance of  Robespierre.  On  a  wider  stage  than  was  ofîered 
by  Geneva,  Calvin  would  hâve  shed  more  blood  than  the  terri- 
ble apostle  of  political  equality,  as  compared  with  Catholic 
equality. 

Three  centuries  earlier  a  monk,  also  a  son  of  Picardy,  had 
led  the  whole  of  Western  Europe  to  invade  the  East.  Peter 
the  Hermit,  Calvin,  and  Robespierre,  sons  of  the  same  soil, 
at  intervais  of  three  centuries,  were,  in  a  political  sensé,  the 
levers  of  Archimedes.  Each  in  turn  was  an  embodied  idea 
finding  its  fulcrum  in  the  interests  of  man. 


AliOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICl  195 

Calvin  is,  beyond  doubt,  the — alraost  unrecognized — maker 
of  that  disinal  town  of  Geneva,  where,  only  ten  years  since, 
a  man,  poiuting  out  a  carriage  gâte — the  first  in  the  town, 
for  till  then  there  had  only  been  house  doors  in  Geneva — said, 
"Through  that  gâte  luxury  drove  into  Geneva."  Calvin, 
by  the  severity  of  his  sentences  and  the  austerity  of  his  doc- 
trine, introduced  the  hypocritical  feeling  that  has  been  well 
called  Puritanism  [the  nearest  English  équivalent  perhaps 
to  the  Freneh  word  mômerie].  Good  conduct,  according  to 
the  mômiers  or  puritans,  lay  in  renouncing  the  arts  and  the 
grâces  of  life,  in  eating  well  but  without  luxury,  and  in 
silently  amassing  money  without  enjoying  it  otherwise  than 
as  Calvin  enjoyed  his  power — in  fancy. 

Calvin  clothed  the  citizens  in  the  same  gloomy  livery  as 
he  threw  over  life  in  gênerai.  He  formed  in  the  Consistory 
a  perfect  Calvinist  inquisition,  exaetly  like  the  revolutionary 
tribunal  instituted  by  Eobespierre.  The  Consistory  handed 
over  the  victims  to  be  condemned  by  the  Council,  which 
Calvin  ruled  through  the  Consistory  just  as  Eobespierre  ruled 
the  Convention  through  the  Jacobin  Club.  Thus  an  erainent 
magistrate  of  Geneva  was  senteneed  to  two  months'  impris- 
onnient,  to  lose  his  office,  and  to  be  prohibited  from  ever 
filling  any  other,  beeause  he  led  a  dissolute  life  and  had 
made  friends  among  Calvin's  foes.  In  this  way  Calvin  was 
actually  a  legislator;  it  was  he  who  ereated  the  austère 
manners,  sober,  respectable,  hideously  dull,  but  quite  irre- 
proachable,  which  hâve  remained  unchanged  in  Geneva  to  thia 
day;  they  prevailed  there  indeed  before  the  English  habits 
were  formed  that  are  universally  known  as  Puritanism,  under 
the  influence  of  the  Cameronians,  the  followers  of  Caméron, 
a  Frenchman  who  trod  in  Calvin's  steps.  Thèse  manners 
hâve  been  admirably  described  by  Walter  Scott. 

The  poverty  of  this  man,  an  absolute  sovereign,  who  treated 
aa  a  power  with  other  powers,  asking  for  their  treasure, 
demanding  armies,  and  filling  his  harnds  with  their  money 
for  the  poor,  proves  that  the  Idea,  regarded  as  the  sole  means 
of  dominion,  begets  political  misers,  men  whose  only  en- 


IDrt  AHOUT  CATIIEUINE  DE'  MEDICI 

joymcnl  is  intollcctual,  aiul  wlu»,  likc  Ihe  Jcsuils,  lovo  power 
for  its  own  sakc.  Pitt,  Luther,  Calvin,  and  Robespierre,  ail 
thèse  Harpagons  in  grced  of  dominion,  dicnl  penniless.  His- 
tory  lias  prcsorved  the  inventory  niadc  in  Calvin's  rooms  after 
his  death,  and  evorythinir,  includin^;  liis  bocks,  was  valucd 
at  fifty  orowns.  Luthor's  possessions  aniounlod  to  as  nuich; 
indecd,  his  widow,  tho  fanions  Catherine  de  Bora,  wua  obligcd 
to  pétition  for  a  pension  of  fifty  crowns  bestowcd  on  her  by 
a  German  Elector. 

Potemkin,  !Mazarin,  and  Richelieu,  men  of  thought  and 
action,  who  ail  three  foundcd  or  preparcd  the  foundations 
of  empires,  each  left  thrcc  hundred  millions  of  francs;  but 
thèse  men  had  a  heart,  they  loved  women  and  the  arts,  they 
built  and  conquered  ;  while,  with  the  exception  of  Luther, 
■whose  wife  was  the  llelen  of  this  Iliad,  none  of  the  others 
could  accuse  himself  of  ever  having  felt  his  heart  throb  for 
a  woman. 

This  brief  history  was  needed  to  explain  Calvin's  position 
at  Geneva. 

One  day  early  in  February  1561,  on  one  of  the  mild  even- 
ings  which  occur  at  that  time  of  year  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
Léman,  two  men  on  horseback  arrived  at  Pré-l'Évêque,  so 
called  from  the  ancient  résidence  of  the  Bishop  of  Geneva, 
driven  out  thirty  years  before.  Thèse  two  men,  acquainted, 
no  doubt,  with  the  law  of  Geneva  as  to  the  closing  of  the  gatxîs, 
very  necessary  then,  and  absurd  enough  in  thèse  days,  rode 
towards  the  Porte  de  Rives;  but  they  suddenly  drew  rein  at 
the  sight  of  a  man  of  fifty,  walking  with  the  help  of  a 
woman-servant's  arm,  and  evidcntly  returning  to  the  town. 
This  personage,  rather  stout  in  figure,  walked  slowly  and 
with  diflficulty,  dragging  one  foot  before  the  other  with  évi- 
dent pain,  and  wearing  broad,  laced  shoes  of  black  velvet. 

"It  is  he,"  said  Chaudieu's  companion,  who  dismounted, 
gave  his  bridle  to  the  preacher,  and  went  forward  open- 
armed  to  meet  the  master. 

The  man  on  foot,  who  was  in  fact  Jean  Calvin,  drew  back 
to  avoid  the  embrace,  and  cast  the  severest  glance  at  his  dis- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  197 

eiple.  At  the  âge  of  fifty  Calvin  looked  like  a  man  of  seventy. 
Thick-set  and  fat,  he  seemed  ail  the  shorter  beeause  frightful 
pain  from  the  stone  obliged  him  to  walk  much  bent.  Thèse 
sufïerings  were  coniplicated  with  attacks  of  the  worst  form 
of  goût.  Anybody  niight  hâve  quaked  at  the  aspect  of  that 
face,  almost  as  broad  as  it  was  long,  and  bearing  no  more 
eigns  of  good-nature,  in  spite  of  its  roundness,  than  that  of 
the  dreadful  King  Henry  VIII.,  whom  Calvin,  in  faet,  re- 
sembled.  His  sufïerings,  which  never  gave  him  a  reprieve, 
were  visible  in  two  deep  furrows  on  each  side  of  his  nose, 
following  the  line  of  his  moustache,  and  ending,  like  it,  in  a 
full  gray  beard. 

This  face,  though  red  and  inflamed  like  a  drunkard's, 
showed  patelles  where  his  complexion  was  yellow;  still,  and 
in  spite  of  the  velvet  cap  that  covered  his  massive,  broad 
head,  it  was  possible  to  admire  a  krge  and  nobly  formed 
forehead,  and  beneath  it  two  sparkling  brown  eyes,  which 
in  moments  of  wrath  could  flash  fire.  Whether  by  reason 
of  his  bulk,  or  beeause  his  neck  was  too  thick  and  short, 
or  as  a  conséquence  of  late  hours  and  incessant  work,  Calvin's 
head  seemed  sunk  between  his  broad  shoulders,  which  com- 
pelled  him  to  wear  a  quite  shallow,  pleated  ruff,  on  which 
his  face  rested  like  John  the  Baptist's  in  the  charger.  Be- 
tween his  moustache  and  his  beard  there  peeped,  like  a  rose, 
a  sweet  and  éloquent  mouth,  small,  and  fresh,  and  perfectly 
formed.  This  face  was  divided  by  a  square  nose  remarkable 
for  its  long  aquiline  outline,  resulting  in  high-lights  at  the 
tip,  significantly  in  harmony  with  the  prodigious  power  ex- 
pressed  in  this  magnificent  head. 

Though  it  was  difficult  to  detect  in  thèse  features  any 
trace  of  the  constant  headaehes  which  tormented  Calvin  in 
the  intervais  of  a  slow  fever  that  was  consuming  him,  pain, 
constantly  defied  by  study  and  a  strong  will,  gave  this  ap- 
parently  florid  face  a  terrible  tinge,  attributable,  no  doubt, 
to  the  hue  of  the  layer  of  fat  due  to  the  sedentary  habits  of 
a  hard  worker.  It  bore  the  marks  of  the  perpétuai  struggle 
of  a  sickly  tempérament  against  one  of  the  strongest  wills 


UkS  AHOl'T   CA'IIIIOHINK    DI"    MIODICI 

knowii  in  tlic  historv  of  niaiikind,  l'Acn  tho  lips,  thoii^h 
ln'aiitifiil,  i'\]iri'ssrd  cnu'lty.  A  chaste  lifc,  iiulisiH'iisable 
to  vas!  j)roji'cts,  and  coin])uLsi)ry  in  siicli  cojulitions  ol"  siekly 
liealth,  had  set  its  stanip  on  the  face.  Thcro  was  regret  in 
the  serenity  of  tliat  inighly  brow,  and  snlfering  in  the  gaze 
of  the  eyes,  whose  calniness  was  a  terror. 

Calvin's  dress  gave  eiïect  to  liis  hcad,  for  lie  wore  the 
famous  blnck  clo(h  gown,  boltod  with  a  cloih  hand  and  brass 
buckle,  wbich  was  adopted  as  tlie  costume  of  Calvinist  prcach- 
ers,  and  which,  haviug  notliing  to  attract  tlie  eye,  directed 
ail  the  spectator's  attention  to  the  face. 

"I  ani  in  too  grcat  pain  to  cnibrace  you,  Théodore,"  said 
Calvin  to  the  élégant  horseman. 

Théodore  de  Bèze,  at  tliat  time  two-and-forty,  and,  by 
Calvin's  désire,  a  free  citizen  of  (îcneva  for  two  years  past, 
was  the  most  striking  contrast  to  the  terrible  minister  to 
"whom  he  had  given  his  allegiance.  Calvin,  like  ail  men  of 
the  middle  class  who  hâve  risen  to  moral  supremacy,  like 
ail  inventors  of  a  social  system,  was  consumed  with  jealousy. 
He  abhon-ed  his  disciples,  would  suffer  no  equaJ,  and  could 
not  endure  the  slightest  contradiction,  llowever,  botwcen 
him  and  Théodore  de  Bèze  the  différence  was  so  great;  this 
élégant  gentleman,  gifted  with  a  charming  appearance,  pol- 
ished,  courteous,  and  accustomed  to  Court  life,  was,  in  his 
eyes,  so  unlike  ail  his  tierce  Janissaries,  that  for  him  he  set 
aside  his  usual  impulses.  Ile  never  loved  him,  for  this 
crabbed  lawgiver  knew  absolutely  nothing  of  friendship;  but 
having  no  fear  of  finding  his  successor  in  him,  he  liked  to 
play  with  Théodore,  as  Eichelieu  at  a  later  time  played  with 
his  cat.  He  found  him  pliant  and  amusing.  When  he  saw 
that  de  Bèze  succeeded  to  perfection  in  every  mission,  he  took 
delight  in  the  polished  tool  of  which  he  believcd  himself  to 
be  the  soûl  and  guide;  so  true  is  it  that  even  those  men  who 
seem  most  surly  cannot  live  without  some  semblance  of  affec- 
tion. 

Théodore  was  Calvin's  spoilt  child.  The  great  Reformer 
never  scolded  him,   overlooked  his  irregularities,  his   love 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  199 

afFairs,  his  handsome  drcss,  and  his  choiee  language.  Pos- 
sibly  Calvin  was  well  content  to  show  that  tlie  Reformation 
could  hold  its  own  even  among  Court  circles.  Théodore  de 
Bèze  wanted  to  introduee  a  taste  for  art,  letters,  and  poetry 
into  Geneva,  and  Calvin  would  listen  to  his  schemes  without 
knitting  his  grizzled  brows.  Thus  the  contrast  of  character 
and  person  was  as  complète  as  the  contrast  of  mind  in  thèse 
two  celebrated  nien. 

Calvin  accepted  Chaudieu's  very  humble  bow,  and  replied 
by  slightly  bending  his  head.  Chaudieu  slîpped  the  bridles 
of  both  horses  over  his  right  arm  and  followed  the  two  great 
Eeformers,  keeping  on  the  right  of  Théodore  de  Bèze,  who  was 
walking  on  Calvin's  right.  Calvin's  housekeeper  ran  for- 
ward  to  prevent  the  gâte  being  shut,  by  telling  the  captain  of 
the  Guard  that  the  Pastor  had  just  had  a  severe  attack  of 
pain. 

Théodore  de  Bèze  was  a  native  of  the  Commune  of  Véze- 
lay,  the  first  to  demand  for  itself  corporate  government,  of 
which  the  curions  taie  bas  been  told  by  one  of  the  Thierrys. 
Thus  the  spirit  of  citizenship  and  résistance  which  were  en- 
démie at  Vézelay  no  doubt  contributed  an  item  to  the  great 
rising  of  the  Eeformers  in  the  person  of  this  man,  who  is 
certainly  a  most  singular  figure  in  the  history  of  heresy. 

"So  you  still  suffer  great  pain?"  said  Théodore  to  Calvin. 

"The  sufîerings  of  the  damned,  a  Catholic  would  say," 
replied  the  Reformer,  with  the  bitterness  that  colored  his  least 
remarks.  "Ah  !  I  am  going  f ast,  my  son,  and  what  will  be- 
come  of  you  when  I  am  gone  ?" 

"We  will  fight  by  the  light  of  your  writings,"  said  Chau- 
dieu. 

Calvin  smiled;  his  purple  face  assumed  a  more  gracions 
expression,  and  he  looked  kindly  on  Chaudieu. 

"Well,  hâve  you  brought  me  any  news  ?"  he  asked.  "Hâve 
they  killed  a  great  many  of  us  ?"  he  added,  with  a  smile,  and 
a  sort  of  mocking  glee  sparkled  in  his  brown  eyes. 

"No,"  said  Chaudieu  ;  "peace  is  the  order  of  the  day." 

"So  much  the  worse,  so  much  the  worse!"  cried  Calvin. 


IIW  A1K)L  T  (."A  IIIKKIMO    hl"    MEDICl 

''Evorv  fonn  of  peace  would  bo  a  misfortuno  if  it  were  not 
ahvavs,  iu  faot,  a  snare.  Our  slroiii^th  lies  in  porsccution. 
WluMV  shoiild  we  bo  if  tlic  riiurch  toolc  up  the  iù' formation?" 

'inil(.M.(.i,"  said  Théodore,  "that  is  wliat  tho  Queen-mother 
secms  inclinod  to  do." 

"Sho  is  quite  capable  of  it,"  said  Calvin.  "T  am  studyiug 
that  wonian." 

"Froiu  lu'nce?"  cricil  C'iuuidieu. 

"Doos  distanœ  c.xist  for  tho  spirit?"  said  Calvin  severcly, 
regarding  tho  intorniption  as  irreverent.  "Catherino  louga 
for  powcr,  and  women  who  ai  m  at  that  lose  ail  sciise  of  honor 
and  faith. — What  is  in  the  wind?" 

"Well,  she  suggcsts  a  sort  of  Council,"  said  Théodore  de 
Bèze. 

"Near  Paris  ?"  asked  Calvin  roughly. 

"Yes." 

"Ah  !  that  is  well  !"  said  Calvin. 

"And  we  are  to  try  to  corne  to  an  understanding,  and  draw 
up  a  public  Act  to  consolidate  the  two  Churches." 

"Ah  !  if  only  she  had  courage  enough  to  separate  the  French 
Church  from  the  Court  of  Rome,  and  to  croate  a  patriarch 
in  France,  as  in  the  Groek  Church  !"  cried  the  Reformer, 
whose  eyes  glistencd  at  this  idea,  which  would  place  hira  on  a 
throne.  "But,  my  son,  can  a  Pope's  nièce  be  truthful?  She 
only  wants  to  gain  timo." 

"And  do  not  we  need  time  to  recover  from  our  check  at 
Amboise,  and  to  organize  some  formidable  résistance  in  vari- 
ons parts  of  the  kingdom?" 

"She  has  sent  away  the  Queen  of  Scotland,"  said  Chaudieu. 

"That  is  one  less,  thon,"  said  Calvin,  as  they  passed  through 
the  Porte  de  Rives.  "Elizabeth  of  England  will  keep  her 
busy.  Two  neighboring  queens  will  soon  be  fîghting;  one  is 
handsome,  and  the  other  ugly  enough — a  first  cause  of  irrita- 
tion ;  and  then  there  is  the  question  of  legitimacy " 

He  rubbed  bis  hands,  and  bis  glee  had  such  a  ferocious 
taint  that  de  Bèze  shudderod,  for  he  too  saw  the  pool  of  blood 
at  which  his  master  was  gazing. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  201 

"The  Guises  hâve  provoked  the  House  of  Bourbon,"  said 
de  Bèze  af  ter  a  pause  ;  "they  broke  the  stick  between  thern  at 
Orléans." 

"Ay,"  said  Calvin;  "and  you,  niy  son,  did  not  believe  me 
when,  as  you  last  started  for  Nérac,  I  told  you  that  we  should 
end  by  stirring  up  war  to  the  death  between  the  two  branches 
of  the  royal  family  in  France. 

"So  at  last  I  hâve  a  court,  a  king,  a  dynasty  on  my  side. 
My  doctrine  lias  had  its  effect  on  the  masses.  The  citizen 
class  understand  me;  henceforth  they  will  call  those  who  go 
to  Mass  idolaters,  those  who  paint  the  walls  of  their  place 
of  worship,  and  put  up  pictures  and  statues  there.  Oh,  the 
populace  find  it  far  casier  to  demolish  cathedrals  and  palaces 
than  to  discuss  justification  by  faith  or  the  real  présence  ! 
Luther  was  a  wranglcr,  I  am  an  army  !  He  was  a  reasoner, 
I  am  a  System  !  He,  my  child,  was  but  a  tormentor,  I  am  a 
Tarquin  ! 

"Yes,  they  of  the  truth  will  destroy  churches,  will  tear  down 
pictures,  will  make  millstones  of  the  statues  to  grind  the 
bread  of  the  people.  There  are  bodies  in  great  States,  I  will 
hâve  only  individuals;  bodies  are  too  résistant,  and  see 
clearly  when  individuals  are  blind. 

"Xow,  we  must  combine  this  agitating  doctrine  with  polit- 
ical  interests,  to  consolidate  it  and  to  keep  up  the  material 
of  my  armies.  I  hâve  satisfied  the  logic  of  thrifty  minds 
and  thinking  brains  by  this  bare,  undecorated  worsliip  which 
lifts  religion  into  the  sphère  of  the  idéal.  I  hâve  made  the 
mob  understand  the  advantages  of  the  suppression  of  céré- 
monial. 

"Xow  it  is  your  part,  Théodore,  to  enlist  people's  interests. 
Do  not  overstep  that  line.  In  the  way  of  doctrine  every- 
thing  bas  been  done,  everything  bas  been  said;  add  not  one 
jot  !  Why  does  Caméron,  that  little  pasteur  in  Gascony, 
meddie  with  writing?" 

Calvin,  Théodore  de  Bèze,  and  Chaudieu  went  along  the 
streets  of  the  upper  town  and  through  the  crowd,  without 
any  attention  being  paid  to  the  men  who  were  unchaining  the 


•202  AROIT  rATHElUNE  PF/   MR1>ICI 

mol)  iii  citii's  ;iiul  riiva>^in;^  Kraïu'o.  Afior  tliis  iorrif^'ing 
harangue,  tlu-y  walkinl  on  iii  silcinr,  till  llic}  rcaolicd  the 
littlo  .^(juart'  of  Saint-l'icrrc,  and  inadc  llicir  way  towards 
tlio  ininistcr's  dwidlin^.  Calvin's  lotl^iiig  consistcd  of  tlirrc» 
moins  on  thr  sm-ond  tloor  of  lliis  liousf,  which  is  hardly 
kiunvn,  and  of  wliieli  no  onc  cwr  h-lls  you  in  (icncva — 
whoiv,  indi't'd,  tliiMv  is  no  statue  to  (^alvin.  The  r(M)nis  wcre 
tloorcd  and  wainscotcd  with  pino,  and  on  oni;  side  there  were 
a  kitcheu  ajid  a  servant's  rooni.  'l'iic  rnliancc,  as  is  com- 
nionly  the  case  in  (.îenevese  lioiiscs,  was  tliroiij;li  tlic  kitchen, 
wliieli  opeiu'd  into  a  sniall  room  with  twu  Windows,  parlor, 
dining,  and  drawing-rooin  in  one.  Ncxt  to  tliis  was  the 
study  whcre,  for  fourteen  yoars,  Calvin's  mind  liad  itarried 
on  the  battle  with  pain,  and  beyond  was  his  bcdroom.  Four  oak 
chairs  with  tapestry  seats,  placed  round  a  long  table,  formcd 
ail  the  furniture  of  the  sitting-rooni.  A  white  earthenware 
stove  in  one  corner  of  tlie  rooin  gave  oui  a  pleasant  warnith; 
paneling  of  unvarnishcd  piue  covered  the  walls,  and  there 
was  no  other  décoration.  The  bareness  of  the  place  was  quite 
in  keeping  with  the  frugal  and  simple  life  led  by  the  Re- 
former. 

''Well,''  said  de  Bèze,  as  he  went  in,  taking  advantage  of  a 
few  minutes  when  Clumdieu  had  left  tliem  to  put  up  the 
horses  at  a  neighboring  inn,  "what  am  I  to  do?  Will  you 
agrée  to  this  meeting?" 

"Certainly,"  said  Calvin.  "You,  my  son,  will  bear  the 
brunt  of  the  strugglc.  Be  décisive,  absolute.  Nobody, 
neither  the  Queen,  nor  the  Guises,  nor  I  want  pacification 
as  a  resuit;  it  would  not  suit  our  purpose.  I  hâve  much 
confidence  in  Duplessis-Mornay.    Give  him  the  leading  part. 

We  are  alone "  said  he,  with  a  suspicions  glance  into  the 

kitchen,  of  which  the  door  was  open,  showing  two  shirts  and 
some  collars  hung  to  dry  on  a  line.  "Go  and  shut  ail  the 
doors. — Well,"  he  went  on,  when  Théodore  had  done  his  bid- 
ding,  "we  must  compel  the  King  of  Xavarre  to  join  the 
Guises  and  the  Connétable  de  Montmorency,  by  advising  him 
to  désert  Queen  Catherine  de'  Medici.     Let  us  take  full  ad- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  203 

• 

vantage  of  his  weakness;  he  is  but  a  poor  créature.  If  lie 
prove  a  turncoat  to  the  Italian  woman,  slie,  finding  herself 
bereft  of  his  support,  must  inevitably  join  the  Prince  de 
Condé  and  Coligny.  Such  a  manœuvre  may  possibly  com- 
promise her  so  effectually  that  she  must  remain  on  our 
side " 

Théodore  de  Bèze  raised  the  hem  of  Calvin's  gown  and 
kissed  it. 

"Oh,  master,"  said  he,  "you  are  indeed  great  !" 

"Unfortunately,  I  am  dying,  my  dear  Théodore.  If  I 
should  die  before  seeing  you  again,"  he  went  on,  whispering 
in  the  ear  of  his  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  "remember 
to  strike  a  great  blow  by  the  hand  of  one  of  our  martyrs." 

"Another  Minard  to  be  killed  ?" 

"Higher  than  a  la\v}-er." 

"A  king  !" 

"Higher  still.    The  man  who  wants  to  be  king." 

"The  Duc  de  Guise?"  cried  Théodore,  with  a  gesture  of 
dismay. 

"Well,"  cried  Calvin,  faneying  that  he  discemed  refusai, 
or  at  least  an  instinct  of  résistance,  and  failing  to  notice  the 
entrance  of  Chaudieu,  "bave  we  not  a  right  to  strike  as  we 
are  struck  ?  Yes,  and  in  darkness  and  silence  !  May  we  not 
return  wound  for  wound,  and  death  for  death?  Do  the 
Catholics  hesitate  to  lay  snares  for  us  and  kill  us  ?  I  trust  to 
you  !  Bum  their  churches.  Go  on,  my  sons  !  If  you  hâve 
any  devoted  youths " 

"I  hâve,"  Chaudieu  put  in. 

"Use  them  as  weapons  of  war.  To  triumph,  we  may  use 
every  means.  The  Balafré,  that  terrible  man  of  war,  is,  like 
me,  more  than  a  man  ;  he  is  a  dynasty,  as  I  am  a  System  ;  he 
is  capable  of  annihilating  us  !    Death  to  the  Duc  de  Guise  !" 

"I  should  prefer  a  peaceful  victory,  brought  about  by  time 
and  reason,"  said  de  Bèze. 

"By  time  !"  cried  Calvin,  fîingîng  over  his  chair,  '^y 
reason  !  Are  you  mad  ?  Conquer  by  reason  ?  Do  you  know 
nothing  of  men,  you  who  live  among  them — idiot?     What 


204  ABOI'T  rATlIEKINK   DE'   MEDICI 

i3  so  fatal  (o  my  toacliinp:,  thrioc-dycd  siniploton,  is  that  it 
is  baseil  ou  roason.  By  tho  thundors  of  Saint  Paul,  by  tlie 
sword  of  the  Mighty  !  l'niniikin  as  you  aro,  Théodore,  cannot 
you  sœ  tiie  powcr  iliaL  llie  ratastroplir  at  Aiiibt)ist'  bas  givcn 
to  my  rcfonns?  Idoas  ean  lu'vcr  grow  lill  tbey  are  watered 
with  blood.  Tlu'  imirdrr  of  []\c  Duc  de  (iuisc  would  give 
rise  to  a  fearful  persécution,  and  1  liope  for  it  with  ail  my 
miglit  !  To  us  reverses  are  more  favorable  than  suceess  ! 
The  lîeforniation  can  be  beaten  and  endure,  do  you  hear,  oaf  ? 
Whcreas  Catholieisni  is  overthrown  if  we  wiu  a  single  battle. 

"What  are  thèse  lieutenants  of  mine?  Wet  rags  and  not 
men  !  Guts  on  two  legs!  Christened  baboons  !  0  God,  wilt 
Thou  not  grant  me  another  ten  years  to  live?  If  I  die  too 
Eoon,  the  cause  of  religion  is  lost  in  the  hands  of  such  rascals  ! 

"You  are  as  helpless  as  Antoine  do  Navarre!  Begone! 
leave  me  !  I  must  hâve  a  bctter  mcssenger  !  You  are  an  ass, 
a  popinjay,  a  poet  !  Go,  write  your  Catullics,  your  Tibullics, 
your  acrostics  !     Hoo  !'' 

The  pain  he  sufTercd  was  cntircly  swamped  by  the  fires  of 
his  wrath.  Goût  vanished  before  this  fearful  excitemcnt. 
Calvin's  face  was  blotchcd  with  purple,  like  the  sky  before 
a  storm.  His  broad  forehead  shone.  His  eyes  flashcd  fire. 
He  was  not  like  the  same  man.  Ile  let  himself  give  way 
to  this  sort  of  epileptic  frenzy,  almost  madness,  which  waa 
habituai  with  him  ;  but,  then,  struck  by  the  silence  of  his  two 
listeners,  and  observing  Chaudieu,  who  said  to  de  Bèze,  "The 
buming  bush  of  lioreb  !"  the  ministcr  sat  down,  was  dumb, 
and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  with  their  thickened 
joints,  and  his  fingers  quivered  in  spite  of  their  strength. 

A  few  minutes  later,  while  still  trembling  from  the  last 
shoeks  of  this  tempest — the  resuit  of  his  austère  life — he  said 
in  a  broken  voice  : 

"My  vices,  which  are  many,  are  less  hard  to  subdue  than 
my  impatience  !  Ah  !  wild  beast,  shall  I  never  conquer  you  ?" 
he  exclaimed,  striking  his  hreast. 

"My  beloved  master,"  said  de  Bèze  in  a  caressing  tone, 
taking  his  hands  and  kissing  them,  "Jove  thunders,  but  he 
can  smile." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  205 

Calvin  looked  at  his  disciple  with  a  softened  expression. 

"Do  not  misunderstand  me,  my  friends,"  he  said. 

"I  understand  that  the  shepherds  of  nations  hâve  terrible 
burdens  to  bear,"  replied  Théodore.  "You  hâve  a  world  on 
your  shoulders." 

"I,"  said  Chaudieu,  who  had  become  thoughtful  under  the 
master's  abuse,  "hâve  three  martyrs  on  whom  we  can  dépend. 
Stuart,  who  killed  the  Président,  is  free " 

"That  viiW  not  do,"  said  Calvin  mildly,  and  smiling,  as  a 
great  man  can  smile  when  fair  weather  follows  a  storm  on  his 
face,  as  if  he  were  ashamed  of  the  tempest.  "I  know  men. 
He  who  kills  one  Président  will  not  kill  a  second." 

"Is  it  absolutely  necessary?"  said  de  Bèze. 

"What,  again?"  cried  Calvin,  his  nostrils  expanding. 
"There,  go;  you  will  put  me  in  a  rage  again.  You  hâve  my 
décision. — You,  Chaudieu,  walk  in  your  o^vn  path,  and  keep 
the  Paris  flock  together.  God  be  with  you. — Dinah  !  Light 
my  friends  out." 

"Will  you  not  allow  me  to  embrace  you?"  said  de  Bèze 
with  émotion.  ""Who  can  tell  what  the  morrow  will  bring 
forth  ?    We  may  be  imprisoned  in  spite  of  safe-conducts " 

"And  yet  you  want  to  spare  them  !"  said  Calvin,  embracing 
de  Bèze. 

He  took  Chaudieu's  hand,  saying: 

"Mind  vou,  not  Huguenots,  not  Eeformers:  be  Calvinists  ! 
Speak  only  of  Calvinism. — Alas  !  this  is  not  ambition,  for  I 
am  a  dying  man  ! — Only,  everything  of  Luther's  must  be 
destroyed,  to  the  very  names  of  Lutheran  and  Lutheranism." 

"Indeed,  divine  man,  you  deserve  such  honor  !"  cried  Chau- 
dieu. 

"Uphold  uniformity  of  creed.  Do  not  allow  any  further 
examination  or  reconstruction.  If  new  sects  arise  from 
among  us,  we  are  lost." 

To  anticipate  events  and  dismiss  Théodore  de  Bèze,  who 
returned  to  Paris  with  Chaudieu,  it  may  be  said  that  Poltrot, 
who,  eighteen  months  later,  fired  a  pistol  at  the  Duc  de  Guise, 
confessed,  under  torture,  that  he  had  been  urged  to  the  crime 


L'Otî  AROUT  CATHICIUNE   I>E'   .Mi:i>ICI 

liy  Thoodori'  de  H(,"v.i' ;  liourviT.  lie  ici  r.uicd  liis  stiitcmont 
at  a  latcr  stage,  liuloi'd.  Bossiict,  wlio  ui'i<,4ii'(l  nll  [hv  his- 
lorioal  évidence,  did  iiot  lliink  lli;it  \hv  idca  of  (liis  attcnipt 
was  due  to  Théodore  de  Hèze.  Sinee  Bossuel,  however,  a  dis- 
serfalion  of  an  ajiparently  trivial  eliaracier,  à  propos  to  a 
fanions  ballad,  enabled  a  (•()mj)iler  of  the  eit^hteentli  ccntury 
to  prove  tliat  the  sonix  snn>^  thronghout  France  by  the  IIu- 
gnenots  on  tlie  dcath  of  the  Duc  de  Ciuise  was  written  by 
Théodore  de  Bèze;  and,  inorcovcr,  tliat  the  well-known  ballad 
or  lament  on  Malbrouck — the  Uuke  of  Marlborough — is  pla- 
giarized  froni  Théodore*  de  Bèze.* 

On  the  day  when  Théodore  de  Bèze  and  Chaudieu  reaclied 
Paris,  the  Court  had  returned  thither  from  Keims,  where 
Charles  IX.  had  been  crowncd.  This  ceremony,  to  which 
Catherine  gave  unnsual  splendor,  niaking  it  the  occasion  of 
great  festivitics,  enabled  her  to  gathcr  round  hor  the  leaders 
of  every  faction. 

After  studying  the  varions  parties  and  intercsts,  she  saw 
a  choice  of  two  alternatives — either  to  enlist  them  on  the  side 
of  the  Throne,  or  to  set  them  against  each  other.  The  Con- 
nétable de  Montmorency,  above  ail  else  a  Catholic,  whose 
nephew,  the  Prince  de  Condé,  was  the  leader  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  whose  childrcn  also  had  a  leaning  to  that  creed, 
blamed  the  Queen-mother  for  allying  herself  with  that 
party.  The  Guises,  on  thcir  side,  worked  hard  to  gain  over 
Antoine  de  Bourbon,  a  Prince  of  no  strength  of  character, 
and  attach  him  to  their  faction,  and  his  wife,  the  Queen  of 
Xavarre,  informed  by  de  Bèze,  allowed  this  to  be  donc.  Thèse 
difïiculties  checkcd  Catherine,  whose  newly-acquired  authority 
needed  a  brief  period  of  tranquillity  ;  she  impatiently  awaited 
Calvin's  reply  by  de  Bèze  and  Chaudieu,  sent  to  the  great 
Eeformer  on  behalf  of  the  Prince  de  Condé,  the  King  of 
Xavarre,  Coligny,  d'Andelot,  and  Cardinal  de  Châtillon. 

Meanwhile,  the  Queen-mother  was  true  to  her  promises 
to  the  Prince  de  Condé.    The  Chancellor  quashed  the  trial, 

♦  8ee  note  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  207 

in  which  Christophe  was  involved,  by  referring  the  case 
to  the  Paris  Parlement,  and  they  annulled  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced  by  the  Commission,  doclaring  it  incompétent  to  try  a 
Prince  of  the  Blood.  The  Parlement  re-opened  the  trial  by 
the  désire  of  the  Guises  and  the  Queen-mother.  La  Sagne's 
papers  had  been  placed  in  Catherine's  hands,  and  she  had 
burnt  theni.  This  sacrifice  was  the  first  pledge  given,  quite 
vainly,  by  the  Guises  to  the  Queen-mother.  The  Parlement, 
not  having  this  décisive  évidence,  re-instated  the  Prince  in  ail 
bis  rights,  possessions,  and  honors. 

Christophe,  thus  released  when  Orléans  was  in  ail  its  ex- 
citement  over  the  King's  accession,  was  excluded  from  the 
case,  and,  as  a  compensation  for  bis  sufferings,  was  passed 
as  a  pleader  by  Monsieur  de  Thou. 

The  Triumvirate — the  coalition  of  interests  which  were 
irapenled  by  Catherine's  first  steps  in  authority — was  hatch- 
ing  under  her  very  eyes.  Just  as  in  chemistry  hostile  élé- 
ments fly  asunder  at  the  shock  that  disturbs  their  compulsory 
union,  so  in  politics  the  alliance  of  antagonistic  interests 
ean  never  last  long.  Catherine  fully  nnderstood  that,  sooner 
or  later,  she  must  fall  back  on  the  Connétable  and  the  Guises 
to  fight  the  Huguenots.  The  convocation,  which  served  to 
flatter  the  vanity  of  the  orators  on  each  side,  and  as  an  excuse 
for  another  imposing  ceremony  after  that  of  the  coronation, 
to  clear  the  blood-stained  field  for  the  religious  war  that  had, 
indeed,  already  begun,  was  as  futile  in  the  eyes  of  the  Guises 
as  it  was  in  Catherine's.  The  Catholics  could  not  fail  to  be 
the  losers;  for  the  Huguenots,  under  the  pfetence  of  discus- 
sion, would  be  able  to  proclaim  their  doctrine  in  the  face  of 
ail  France,  under  the  protection  of  the  King  and  his  mother. 
The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  flattered  by  Catherine  into  the 
hope  of  conquering  the  heretics  by  the  éloquence  of  the 
Princes  of  the  Church,  induccd  his  brother  to  consent.  To 
the  Queen-mother  six  months  of  peace  meant  much, 

A  trivial  incident  was  near  wrecking  the  power  which 
Catherine  was  so  laboriously  building  up.  This  is  the  scène 
as  recorded  by  history  ;  it  occurred  on  the  very  day  when  the 


208  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

cnvoys  from  Ceneva  arrivcd  at  tho  Ilôlol  de  Coligny  in  the 
lîue  Bc'thisy,  not  far  fnun  ihc  Lniivrc.  Al.  tho  coronation, 
Charles  IX.,  who  was  inuch  atlacliod  to  liis  iiistructor,  Amyot, 
Iliade  hini  Iliiijli  Alinoner  of  Franeo.  Tliis  aiïection  was  fully 
eharcd  by  the  Duc  d'Anjou  (Henri  IJI.),  who  also  was 
Aniyot's  jiupil. 

Catherine  heard  this  from  the  two  (îondis  on  the  way  home 
from  Reims  to  Paris.  She  had  rdicd  on  this  Crown  appoint- 
ment  to  gain  hcr  a  sui)porter  in  the  Church,  and  a  pcrson  of 
importance  to  set  against  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine;  she  had 
intended  to  beslow  it  on  Cardinal  de  Tournon,  so  as  to  find 
in  him,  as  in  rilojntal,  a  second  crutch — to  use  hcr  own 
words.  On  arriving  at  the  Louvre,  she  sent  for  the  preceptor. 
Her  rage  at  seeing  the  catastrophe  that  threatened  her  policy 
from  the  ambition  of  this  self-made  man — the  son  of  a 
shoemakcr — was  such  that  she  addressed  him  in  this  strange 
speech  recorded  by  certain  chroniclers: 

"What!  I  can  raake  the  Guises  cringe,  the  Colignys,  the 
Montmorencys,  the  House  of  Navarre,  the  Prince  de  Condé, 
and  I  am  to  be  balked  by  a  pricstling  like  you,  who  were  not 
content  to  be  Bishop  of  Auxerre  !" 

Amyot  excused  himself.  He  had,  in  fact,  asked  for  noth- 
ing;  the  King  had  appointed  him  of  his  own  free  will  to 
this  ofhce,  of  which  he,  a  humble  teacher,  regarded  himself 
as  unworthy. 

"Rest  assured,  Master,"  for  it  was  by  this  name  that  the 
Kings  Charles  IX.  and  Henri  III.  addressed  this  great  writer, 
"that  you  will  not  be  left  standing  for  twenty-four  hours 
unless  you  induce  your  pupil  to  change  his  mind." 

Between  death  promised  him  in  such  an  uncorapromising 
way,  and  the  abdication  of  the  highest  ecclesiastical  office 
in  the  kingdom,  the  shoemaker's  son,  who  had  grown  covet- 
ous,  and  hoped  perhaps  for  a  Cardinal's  hat,  determined  to 
temporize.     He  hid  in  the  abbey  of  Saint-Germain  en  Laye. 

At  his  first  dinner,  Charles  IX.,  not  seeing  Amyot,  asked 
for  him.  Some  Guisard,  no  doubt,  told  the  King  what  had 
passed  between  Amyot  and  the  Queen-mother. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  209 

"What  !"  cried  he,  "lias  he  been  made  away  with  because 
I  created  him  High  Almoner?" 

He  went  off  to  his  mother  in  the  violent  state  of  a  ehild 
when  one  of  his  fancies  is  contravened. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  as  he  entered  her  room,  "did  I  not 
comply  with  your  wishes,  and  sign  the  letter  you  asked  of  me 
for  the  Parlement,  by  virtue  of  which  you  govern  my  king- 
dom  ?  Did  you  not  promise  me,  when  you  laid  it  bef ore  me, 
that  my  will  should  be  yours  ?  and  now  the  only  f avor  I  hâve 
carcd  to  bestow  excites  your  jealousy. — The  Chaneellor  talks 
of  making  me  of  âge  at  fourteen,  three  years  from  hence, 
and  you  treat  me  as  a  child  ! — By  God,  but  I  mean  to  be  King, 
and  as  much  a  King  as  my  father  and  grandfather  were 
kings  !" 

The  tone  and  véhémence  with  which  he  spoke  thèse  words 
were  a  révélation  to  Catherine  of  her  son's  true  character; 
it  was  like  a  blow  from  a  bludgeon  on  her  heart. 

"And  he  speaks  thus  to  me,"  thought  she,  "to  me,  who 
made  him  King." — "Monsieur,"  she  said,  "the  business  of 
being  King  in  such  times  as  thèse  is  a  difïicult  one,  and  you 
do  not  yet  know  the  master  minds  you  hâve  to  deal  with. 
You  will  never  hâve  any  true  and  trustworthy  friend  but 
your  mother,  or  other  adhérents  than  those  whom  she  long 
since  attached  to  her,  and  but  for  whom  you  would  perhaps 
not  be  alive  at  this  day.  The  Guises  are  averse  both  to  your 
position  and  your  person,  I  would  hâve  you  know.  If  they 
eould  sew  me  up  in  a  sack  and  throw  me  into  the  river,"  said 
she,  pointing  to  the  Seine,  "they  would  do  it  to-night.  Those 
Lorrainers  feel  that  I  am  a  lioness  defending  her  cubs,  and 
that  stays  the  bold  hands  they  stretch  out  to  clutch  the  crovm. 
To  whom,  to  what  is  your  preceptor  attached?  where  are  his 
allies?  what  is  his  authority?  what  services  can  he  do  you? 
what  weight  will  his  words  hâve?  Instead  of  gaining  a  but- 
tress  to  uphold  your  power,  you  hâve  undermined  it. 

"The  Cardinal  de  Lorraine  threatens  you;  he  plays  the 
King,  and  keeps  his  hat  on  his  head  in  the  présence  of  the 
first  Prince  of  the  Blood;  was  it  not  necessary  to  eounter- 


210  AROUT  CATIIEUI.NK  WV   MIODICI 

balaJU'o  liiin  with  aiiothor  cardinal,  iiivoslcil  willi  autliority 
l'tiual  to  lus  own?  Is  Ainyot,  a  sliociiialvcT  who  niigliL  tic 
thc  bows  of  his  shoes,  tlu-  luaii  lo  (Icfv  liiiii  to  his  face? — Wcll, 
well,  you  aro  foiul  ol'  Aniyot.  Vou  hâve  ajjpuinlcd  liiml 
Your  iirst  décision  shall  be  respccted,  iny  Lord  !  But  before 
deeidinjx  aiiv  further,  hâve  the  kiiidness  to  consult  nie.  Listen 
to  reasons  of  State,  and  your  boyisii  good  sensé  will  perhaps 
agrée  witli  my  oid  woinan's  expérience  before  deciding,  when 
you  know  ail  the  dilîiculties." 

"You  must  briug  back  niy  master!"  said  the  King,  not 
listening  vcry  carefully  to  the  Queen,  on  fînding  lier  speech 
full  of  reproofs. 

"Yes,  you  shall  hâve  hini,"  replied  she.  "But  not  he, 
nor  even  that  rough  Cypierre,  can  teaeh  you  to  reign." 

"It  is  you,  my  dear  mother,"  he  exclaimed,  mollified  by  his 
triumph,  and  throwiiîg  off  the  threatening  and  sly  expression 
which  Nature  had  stamped  on  his  physiognomy. 

Catherine  sent  Gondi  to  find  the  High  Almoner.  When 
the  Florentine  had  discovered  Amyot's  retreat,  and  the 
Bishop  heard  that  the  courtier  came  from  the  Queen,  he  was 
seized  with  terror,  and  would  not  come  out  of  the  Abbey. 
In  this  extremity  Catherine  was  obliged  to  write  to  him 
herself,  and  in  such  terms  that  he  came  back  and  obtained 
the  promise  of  her  support,  but  only  on  condition  of  his 
obeying  her  blindly  in  ail  that  concerned  the  King. 

This  little  domestic  tempest  being  lulled,  Catherine  came 
back  to  the  Louvre.  It  was  more  than  a.  year  since  she  had 
left  it,  and  she  now  held  council  with  her  nearest  friends 
as  to  how  she  was  to  deal  with  the  young  King,  whom  Cy- 
pierre had  complimented  on  his  iirmness. 

"What  is  to  be  done?"  said  she  to  the  two  Gondis,  Rug- 
gieri,  Birague,  and  Chiverni,  now  tutor  and  Chancellor  to 
the  Due  d'Anjou. 

"First  of  ail,"  said  Birague,  "get  rid  of  Cypierre;  he  is 
not  a  courtier,  he  will  never  fall  in  with  your  views,  and  will 
think  he  is  doing  his  duty  by  opposing  you." 

"Whom  can  I  trust  ?"  cried  the  Queen. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  211 

"One  of  us,"  said  Birague. 

"By  ray  faith,"  said  Gondi,  "I  promise  to  make  the  King 
as  pliant  as  the  King  of  Navarre." 

"You  let  the  late  King  die  to  save  your  other  children; 
well,  then,  do  as  the  grand  Signors  of  Constantinople  do  : 
crush  this  one's  passions  and  fancies,"  said  Albert  de  Gondi. 
"He  likes  the  arts,  poetry,  hunting,  and  a  little  girl  he  saw  at 
Orléans;  ail  this  is  quite  enough  to  occupy  him." 

"Then  you  would  be  the  King's  tutor?"  said  Catherine,  to 
the  more  capable  of  the  two  Gondis. 

"If  you  will  give  me  the  necessary  authority;  it  might  be 
well  to  make  me  a  Marshal  of  France  and  a  Duke.  Cypierre 
is  too  small  a  man  to  continue  in  that  office.  Henceforth 
the  tutor  of  a  King  of  France  should  be  a  Marshal  and  Duke, 
or  something  of  the  kind " 

"He  is  right,"  said  Birague. 

"Poetry  and  hunting,"  said  Catherine,  in  a  dreamy  voice. 

"We  will  hunt  and  make  love  !"  eried  Gondi. 

"Besides,"  said  Chiverni,  "you  are  sure  of  Amyot,  who  will 
always  be  afraid  of  a  drugged  cup  in  case  of  disobedience, 
and  with  Gondi  you  will  hâve  the  King  in  leading  strings." 

"You  were  resigned  to  the  loss  of  one  son  to  save  the  three 
others  and  the  Crown;  now  you  must  hâve  the  courage  to 
keep  this  one  occupied  to  save  the  kingdom — to  save  yourself 
perhaps,"  said  Euggieri. 

"He  has  just  ofEended  me  deeply,"  said  Catherine. 

"He  does  not  know  how  much  he  owes  you  ;  and  if  he  did, 
you  would  not  be  safe,"  Birague  replied  with  grave  emphasis. 

"It  is  settled,"  said  the  Queen,  on  whom  this  reply  had  a 
startling  effect;  "you  are  to  be  the  King's  governor,  Gondi. 
The  King  must  make  me  a  return  in  favor  of  one  of  my 
friends  for  the  concession  I  hâve  made  for  fhat  cowardly 
Bishop.  But  the  fool  has  lost  the  Cardinal's  hat;  so  long 
as  I  live  I  will  hinder  the  Pope  from  fitting  it  to  his  head  ! 
We  should  hâve  been  very  strong  with  Cardinal  de  Tournon 
to  support  us.  What  a  trio  they  would  hâve  made:  he  as 
High  Almoner  with  l'Hôpital  and  de  Thou  !    As  to  the  citi- 


•2V2  ABOUT  CATIIEIUNE  DE'   MEDICI 

zens  of  Paris,  I  iiioaii  to  luako  iiiy  son  coax  tluMii  ovor,  niid 
\ve  will  lean  ou  theni." 

And  Gondi  was,  in  fact,  niade  a  Marslial,  crcated  Duc  de 
Retz  and  tutor  to  the  King,  within  a  few  days. 

This  little  council  was  just  over  when  Cardinal  de  Tour- 
non  came  to  announce  to  the  Quoon  tlie  niessengors  from 
Calvin.  Admirai  Coligny  escorted  them  to  secure  them  re- 
spectful  trcatment  at  the  Louvre.  The  Queen  summoncd  lier 
battalion  of  niaids  of  lionor,  aiul  wint.  inlo  the  grcat  recep- 
tion-room  built  by  lier  husband,  whicli  no  longer  exists  in  the 
Louvre  of  our  day. 

At  that  time  the  staircase  of  the  Louvre  was  in  the  clock- 
towor.  Catherine's  rooms  were  in  the  older  part  of  the 
building,  part  of  which  survives  in  the  Cour  du  Musée.  The 
présent  staircase  to  the  galleries  was  built  where  the  Salle 
des  ballets  was  before  it.  A  ballet  at  that  time  meant  a  sort 
of  dramatic  entertainmcnt  pcrformed  by  ail  the  Court. 

Eevolutionary  préjudice  led  to  the  most  ridiculous  mistake 
as  to  Charles  IX.  à  propos  to  the  Louvre.  During  the  Révolu- 
tion a  belief  defamatory  of  this  King,  whose  character  bas 
been  caricatured,  made  a  monster  of  him.  Chénier's  tragedy 
was  written  under  the  provocation  of  a  tablet  hung  up  on  the 
window  of  the  part  of  the  palace  that  projccts  towards  the 
Quay.  On  it  were  thèse  words,  "From  this  window  Charles 
IX.  of  exécrable  memory  fired  on  the  citizens  of  Paris."  It 
may  be  well  to  point  out  to  future  historians  and  studious 
persons  that  the  whole  of  that  side  of  the  Louvre,  now  called 
the  Old  Louvre — the  projecting  wing  at  a  right  angle  to  the 
Quay,  connected  the  galleries  with  the  Louvre  by  what  is 
called  the  Galerie  d'Apollon,  and  the  Louvre  with  the  Tuile- 
ries by  the  picture  gallery — was  not  in  existence  in  the  time 
of  Charles  IX.  The  principal  part  of  the  site  of  the  river- 
front,  where  lies  the  garden  known  as  le  Jardin  de  l'Infante, 
was  occupied  by  the  Hôtel  de  Bourbon,  which  belongcd,  in 
fact,  to  the  House  of  Xavarre.  It  would  hâve  been  physically 
impossible  for  Charles  IX.  to  fire  from  the  Louvre  de  Henri 
II.  on  a  beat  full  of  Huguenots  crossing  the  Seine,  though 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  213 

he  could  see  the  river  from  sonie  Windows,  which  are  now 
built  up,  in  that  part  of  the  palace. 

Even  if  historians  and  libraries  did  not  possess  maps  in 
which  the  Louvre  at  the  time  of  Charles  IX.  is  perfectly 
shown,  the  building  bcars  in  itself  the  réfutation  of  the  error. 
The  several  Kings  who  hâve  contributed  to  this  vast  structure 
hâve  never  failed  to  leave  their  eipher  on  the  work  in  some 
form  of  monogram.  The  vénérable  buildings,  now  ail  dis- 
colored,  of  that  part  of  the  Louvre  that  gocs  dowTi  to  the 
Quay  bear  the  initiais  of  Henri  IL  and  of  Henri  IV.;  quite 
différent  from  those  of  Henri  III.,  who  added  to  his  H  Cath- 
erine's  double  C  in  a  way  that  looks  like  D  to  superficial 
observers.  It  was  Henri  IV.  who  was  able  to  add  his  own 
palace,  the  Hôtel  de  Bourbon,  with  its  gardens  and  domain, 
on  to  the  Louvre.  He  first  thought  of  uniting  Catherine 
de'  Medici's  palace  ta  the  Louvre  by  finishing  the  galleries, 
of  which  the  exquisite  sculpture  is  too  little  appreciated. 

But  if  no  plan  of  Paris  under  Charles  IX.  were  in  exist- 
ence, nor  the  monograms  of  the  two  Henrys,  the  différence 
in  the  architecture  would  be  enough  to  give  the  lie  to  this 
calumny.  The  rusticated  bosses  of  the  Hôtel  de  la  Force, 
and  of  this  portion  of  the  Louvre,  are  precisely  characteristic 
of  the  transition  from  the  architecture  of  the  Renaissance  to 
the  architecture  of  Henri  III.,  Henri  IV.,  and  Louis  XIII. 

This  archœological  digression,  in  harmony,  to  be  sure,  with 
the  pictures  at  the  beginning  of  this  narrative,  enables  us  to 
see  the  aspect  of  this  other  part  of  Paris,  of  which  nothing 
now  remains  but  that  portion  of  the  Louvre,  where  the  beau- 
tiful  bas-reliefs  are  perishing  day  by  day. 

When  the  Court  was  informed  that  the  Queen  was  about 

to  give  audience  to  Théodore  de  Bèze  and  Chaudieu,  intro- 

duced  by  Admirai  Coligny,  ever}'  one  who  had  a  right  to  go 

into  the  throne  room  hastened  to  be  présent  at  this  interview. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock;  Admirai  Coligny  had  supped,  and 

was  picking  his  teeth  as  he  walked  upstairs  between  the  two 

Calvinists.     This  playing  with  a  toothpick  was  a  confirmed 

habit  with  the  Admirai;  he  involuntarily  picked  his  teeth 
14 


214  AROT'T  CATllElMNi:   DIO'   MIODICI 

in  tlie  niiddle  of  a  batlk'  wlion  ineditating  a  retroat.  "Nevcr 
trust  the  Adinirars  toothpick,  tlio  Constable's  'No,'  or  Catli- 
eriiie's  'Yes/  " — was  ouo  uf  the  proverbe  of  tlie  Court  at  tho 
time.  And  after  tiio  nui;>sac're  of  !Sain(-Harthok)inow,  the 
niob  nuide  liorriblo  mockery  of  llie  AdmiraTa  body,  whicli 
hung  for  three  days  at  Montfaucon,  by  sticking  a  grotesque 
toothpick  between  his  teetli.  Chroniclers  Iiave  recordcd  thia 
hidoGUS  jest.  And,  indoed,  tbis  trivial  détail  iii  the  inidst 
of  a  troniondous  oatastroi)lie  is  just  like  tho  Paris  inob,  wiiich 
thoroughly  deserves  this  grotes(jue  j)arody  of  a  line  of 
Boileau's  : 

Le  Français,  ne  malin,  crfa  la  guillotine. 

(The  Frcnchnian,  a  born  wag,  inventcd  the  guillotine.) 

In  ail  âges,  the  Parisians  bave  niade  fun  before,  during, 
and  after  the  most  terrible  révolutions. 

Théodore  de  Bèze  was  in  Court  dress,  black  silk  long  hose, 
elashed  shoes,  full  trunks,  a  doublet  of  black  silk,  also  slashed, 
and  a  little  black  velvct  cloak,  over  which  fell  a  fine  white 
rufî,  deeply  gauffered.  Ile  wore  the  tuft  of  beard  ealled  a 
virgule  (a  comma)  and  a  moustache.  His  sword  hung  by 
his  side,  and  he  carried  a  cane.  Ail  who  know  the  pictures 
at  Versailles,  or  the  portraits  by  Odieuvre,  know  his  round 
and  almost  jovial  face,  with  bright  eyes,  and  the  remarkably 
high  and  broad  forehead,  which  is  characteristic  of  the  pocts 
and  writcrs  of  that  time.  Do  Bèze  had  a  pleasant  face, 
which  did  him  good  service.  He  formed  a  striking  contrast 
to  Coligny,  whose  austère  features  are  known  to  ail,  and  to 
the  bitter  and  bilious-looking  Chaudieu,  who  wore  the  preach- 
er's  gown  and  Calvinist  bands. 

The  state  of  affairs  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in  our 
own  day,  and  that,  no  doubt,  in  the  Convention  too,  may  en- 
able  us  to  understand  how  at  that  Court  and  at  that  time 
persons,  who  six  months  after  would  be  fîghting  to  the  death 
and  waging  heinous  warfare,  would  meanwhile  meet,  addresa 
each  other  with  courtesy,  and  exchange  jeets. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  215 

When  Coligny  entered  the  room,  Birague,  who  would  coldly 
advise  the  massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomew,  and  the  Cardinal 
de  Lorraine,  who  would  tell  his  servant  Besme  not  to  miss 
the  Admirai,  came  forward  to  meet  him,  and  the  Piedmontese 
said,  with  a  smile  : 

"Well,  my  dear  Admirai,  so  you  hâve  undertaken  to  intro- 
duce  thèse  gentlemen  from  Geneva?" 

"And  you  wlll  count  it  to  me  for  a  crime,  perhaps,"  replied 
the  Admirai  in  jest,  "while,  if  you  had  undertaken  it,  you 
would  hâve  scored  it  as  a  merit." 

"Master  Calvin,  I  hear,  is  very  ill,"  said  the  Cardinal  de 
Lorraine  to  Théodore  de  Bèze.  "I  hope  we  shall  n.ot  be  sus- 
pected  of  having  stirred  his  broth  for  him  !" 

"Nay,  monseigneur,  you  would  lose  too  much  by  that," 
said  Théodore  de  Bèze  shrewdly.  * 

The  Duc  de  Guise,  who  was  examining  Chaudieu,  stared 
at  his  brother  and  Birague,  who  were  both  startied  by  this 
epeech. 

"By  God!"  exclaimed  the  Cardinal,  'Tieretics  are  of  the 
right  f  aith  in  keen  politics  !" 

To  avoid  difficulties,  the  Queen,  who  was  announced  at  this 
moment,  remained  standing.  She  began  by  conversing  with 
the  Connétable,  who  spoke  eagerly  of  the  scandai  of  her  ad- 
mitting  Calvin's  envoys  to  her  présence. 

"But,  you  see,  my  dear  Constable,  we  receive  them  without 
ceremony." 

"Madame,"  said  the  Admirai,  approaching  Catherine, 
"thèse  are  the  two  doctors  of  the  new  religion  who  hâve  come 
to  an  understanding  with  Calvin,  and  hâve  taken  his  in- 
structions as  to  a  meeting  where  the  varions  Churches  of 
France  may  compromise  their  différences." 

"This  is  Monsieur  Théodore  de  Bèze,  my  wife's  very  great 
favorite,"  said  the  King  of  Navarre,  coming  forward  and 
taking  de  Bèze  by  the  hand. 

"And  hère  is  Chaudieu  !"  cried  the  Prince  de  Condé.  "My 
friend  the  Duc  de  Guise  knows  the  captain,"  he  added,  look- 


jic.  ARorr  cA'rmouiNio  ni<r  mrdigi 

in^'  at  la  Balafré;  "pcrhaps  lie  woiiM  likc  to  luako  ainjuaiiit- 
aiuc  with  tlu'  ininistcr." 

Tins  sally  luadi»  cvorvbody  lau^li,  ovon  Oalherine. 

''By  iny  troth,"  said  (lit>  Duc  do  (Juisc,  "1  ain  d('li<::hted  to 
SCO  a  man  who  0111  su  woll  choose  a  followcr,  and  iiiako  iiso 
of  liiiii  in  liis  dc'<;n'i\  One  of  your  nicn,"  said  he  to  tlie 
proac'hor,  "cndurod,  without  dyin^  or  confossing  anythin<^, 
the  extrême  of  torture;  1  fancy  myself  brave,  but  1  do  not 
know  that  I  could  endure  so  woll!" 

"Uni!"  observed  Anibroise  Paré,  "you  said  not  a  word 
wlicn  I  pulk'd  llic  spear  out  of  your  face  at  Calais." 

Catherine,  in  the  niiddle  of  the  seniicircle  formed  right 
and  left  of  the  niaids  of  honor  and  Court  officiais,  kept 
silence.  While  lookin^  at  the  two  fanions  Reformers,  she 
wa3  trying  to  penetrate  them  with  her  fine,  intelligent,  black 
eyes,  and  study  tiiem  thoroughly. 

"One  niight  be  the  sheath  and  the  other  the  blade,"  Albert 
de  Gondi  said  in  her  ear. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Catherine,  who  could  not  help 
smiling,  "bas  your  master  given  you  liberty  to  arrange  a 
public  conférence  where  you  may  convert  to  the  Word  of 
God  those  modem  Fathers  of  the  Churcli  who  are  the  glory 
of  our  realm?" 

"We  bave  no  master  but  the  Lord,"  said  Chaudieu. 

"Well,  you  acknowledge  some  authority  in  the  King  of 
France?"  said  Catherine,  smiling,  and  interrupting  the 
minister. 

"And  a  great  deal  in  the  Queen,"  added  de  Bèze,  bowing 
low. 

"You  will  see,"  she  went  on,  "that  the  heretics  will  be 
my  most  dutiful  subjects." 

"Oh,  madame!"  cried  Coligny,  "what  a  splendid  kingdora 
we  will  make  for  you  !  Europe  reaps  great  profit  from  our 
divisions.  It  bas  seen  one-half  of  France  set  against  the 
other  for  fifty  ycars  past." 

"Hâve  we  come  hère  to  hear  chants  in  praise  of  heretics  ?'* 
said  the  Connétable  roughly. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  217 

"No,  but  to  bring  them  to  amendment,"  answered  the 
Cardinal  de  Lorraine  in  a  whisper,  "and  we  hope  to  achieve 
it  by  a  little  gentleness." 

"Do  you  know  what  I  shoiild  hâve  donc  in  the  reign  of  the 
Iving's  father?"  said  Anne  de  Montmorency.  "I  should  hâve 
sent  for  the  Provost  to  hang  those  two  rascals  high  and  dry 
on  the  Louvre  gallows." 

""Well,  gentlemen,  and  who  are  the  loarned  doctors  you  will 
bring  into  the  field?"  said  the  Queen,  silencing  the  Constable 
with  a  look. 

"Duplessis-Mornay  and  Théodore  de  Bèze  are  our  leaders," 
said  Chaudieu. 

"The  Court  will  probably  go  to  the  château  of  Saint-Ger- 
main ;  and  as  it  would  not  be  seemly  that  this  colloquy  should 
take  place  in  the  same  town,  it  shall  be  held  in  the  little 
town  of  Poissy,"  replied  Catherine. 

"Shall  we  be  safe  there,  madame  ?"  asked  Chaudieu. 

"Oh  !"  said  the  Queen,  with  a  sort  of  simplicity,  "you  will, 
no  doubt,  know  what  précautions  to  take.  Monsieur  the 
Admirai  will  make  arrangements  to  that  efïect  with  my 
cousins  de  Guise  and  Montmorency." 

"Fie  on  it  ail!"  said  the  Constable;  "I  will  hâve  no  part 
in  it." 

The  Queen  took  Chaudieu  a  little  way  apart. 

"What  do  you  do  to  your  sectarians  to  give  them  such  a 
spirit?"  said  she.     "My  furrier's  son  was  really  sublime." 

"We  hâve  faith,"  said  Chaudieu. 

At  this  moment  the  room  was  filled  with  eager  groups, 
ail  discussing  the  question  of  this  assembly,  which,  from  the 
Queen's  suggestion,  was  already  spoken  of  as  the  "Convoca- 
tion of  Poissy."  Catherine  looked  at  Chaudieu,  and  felt  it 
safe  to  say  : 

"Yes,  a  ncw  faith." 

"Ah,  madame,  if  you  were  not  blinded  by  your  connection 
with  the  Court  of  Kome,  you  would  see  that  we  are  returning 
to  the  true  doctrine  of  Jésus  Christ,  who,  while  sanctifying 
the  equality  of  soûls,  has  given  ail  men  on  earth  equal  rights." 


218  AHorr  (WTiiiCKiNi':  nie  medici 

"And  do  yoii  think  yoursolf  thc  ciiiial  of  Calvin?"  snid 
Cathorino  shrowdly.  "Xay,  nay.  wr  are  iMiuals  only  in 
c'hurch.  What,  roally?  Broak  ail  l)i)nil.s  brlwccii  the 
peoplo  and  the  ihrone?"  cricd  Calhorino.  "You  arc  not 
niorely  horctics;  you  rebel  aj^ainst  obédience  to  tlie  King 
wliile  avoidiug  ail  obédience  to  llie  Pope." 

She  sharply  turncd  away,  and  returned  to  Théodore  de 
Bèze. 

"I  trust  to  you,  monsieur,"  she  said,  "to  carry  through 
this  conférence  conscientiously.     Take  time  over  it." 

"I  fancied,"  said  Chaudieu  to  the  Prince  de  Condé,  the 
King  of  Navarre,  and  Admirai  Coligny,  "that  affairs  of  State 
were  taken  more  seriously." 

"Oh.  we  ail  know  cxactly  what  we  niean,"  said  the  Prince 
de  Condé,  with  a  significant  glance  at  Théodore  de  Bèze. 

The  hunchback  took  leave  of  his  followers  to  keep  an  as- 
signation. Tliis  great  Prince  and  party  leader  was  one  of 
the  most  successful  gallants  of  the  Court;  the  two  hand- 
somest  women  of  the  day  fought  for  him  with  such  infatua- 
tion,  that  the  Maréchale  de  Saint-André,  the  wife  of  one 
of  the  coming  Triumvirate,  gave  him  her  fine  estate  at  Saint- 
Valery  to  win  him  from  the  Duchesse  de  Guise,  the  wife  of 
the  man  who  had  wanted  to  bring  his  head  under  the  axe; 
being  unable  to  wean  the  Duc  de  Nemours  from  his  fiirta- 
tions  with  Mademoiselle  de  Rohan,  she  fell  in  love,  mean- 
while,  with  the  leader  of  the  Keformed  party. 

"How  différent  from  Geneva  !"  said  Chaudieu  to  Théodore 
de  Bèze  on  the  little  bridge  by  the  Louvre. 

"They  are  livelier  hère,  and  I  cannot  imagine  why  they 
are  such  traitors,"  replied  de  Bèze. 

"Meet  a  traitor  with  a  traitor-and-a-half,"  said  Chaudieu 
in  a  whisper.  "I  hâve  saints  in  Paris  that  I  can  rely  on, 
and  I  mean  to  make  a  prophet  of  Calvin.  Christophe  will  rid 
us  of  the  most  dangerous  of  our  enemies." 

"The  Queen-mother,  for  whom  the  poor  wretch  endured 
torture,  has  already  had  him  passed,  by  high-handed  orders, 
as  pleader  before  the  Parlement,  and  lawyers  are  more  apt  to 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  219 

be  tell-tales  than  assassins.     Remember  Avenelles,  who  eold 
the  secret  of  our  first  attempt  to  take  up  arms." 

"But  I  know  Christophe,"  said  Chaudieu,  with  an  air  of 
conviction,  as  he  and  the  Calvinist  parted. 

Some  days  after  the  réception  of  Calvin's  secret  envoya 
by  Catherine,  and  towards  the  end  of  that  year — for  the  year 
then  began  at  Easter,  and  the  modem  calendar  was  not 
adopted  till  this  very  reign — Christophe,  still  stretched  on 
an  armchair,  was  sitting  on  that  side  of  the  large  sombre 
room  where  our  story  began,  in  such  a  position  as  to  look 
out  on  the  river.  His  feet  rested  on  a  stool.  Mademoiselle 
Lecamus  and  Babette  Lallier  had  just  renewed  the  application 
of  compresses,  soaked  in  a  lotion  brought  by  Ambroise,  to 
whose  care  Catherine  had  commended  Christophe.  When 
once  he  was  restored  to  his  family,  the  lad  had  become  the 
object  of  the  most  devoted  care.  Babette,  with  her  father's 
permission,  came  to  the  house  every  morning,  and  did  not 
leave  till  the  evening.  Christophe,  a  subject  of  wonder  to 
the  apprentices,  gave  rise  in  the  neighborhood  to  endless 
taies,  which  involved  him  in  poetic  mystery.  He  had  been 
put  to  torture,  and  the  famous  Ambroise  Paré  was  exerting 
ail  his  skill  to  save  him.  What,  then,  had  he  donc  to  be 
treated  so?  On  this  point  neither  Christophe  nor  his  father 
breathed  a  word.  Catherine,  now  all-powerful,  had  an  in- 
terest  in  keeping  silence,  and  so  had  the  Prince  de  Condé. 
The  visits  of  Ambroise  Paré,  the  surgeon  to  the  King  and 
to  the  House  of  Guise,  permitted  by  the  Queen-mother  and 
the  Princes  of  Lorraine  to  attend  a  youth  accused  of  heresy, 
added  to  the  singularity  of  this  business,  which  no  one  could 
see  through.  And  then  the  priest  of  Saint-Pierre  aux  Bœufs 
came  several  times  to  see  his  churchwarden's  son,  and  thèse 
visits  made  the  causes  of  Christophe's  condition  even  more 
inexplicable. 

The  old  furrier,  who  had  a  plan  of  his  own,  replied 
evasively  when  his  fellows  of  the  guild,  traders,  and  frienda 
spoke  of  his  son  ; — 


•jLM  AHorr  ('A'i'iiKKiM':  nir  medici 

"1  uni  vrrv  liiippv,  m'ij^lihor,  (o  liave  bivn  ablo  to  savo  Iiiiu  ! 
You  kiiiiw  !  it  is  wcll  Mut  to  i)ut  yoiir  finjjjor  botwet'ii  tlic 
wooil  and  IIk'  bark.  My  son  |uit  liis  hand  to  tho  stako  and 
took  ont  fiiv  ononj,di  lo  burn  niy  hoiiso  down  ! — 'l'Iu'y  iniposed 
on  bis  youtb,  and  wo  citizi'ns  ncvcr  ^l'I  anytbin^  but  scorn 
and  barni  by  ban^^'in^  on  to  tlie  givat.  Tbis  (iiiite  détermines 
nie  to  niake  a  lawyer  of  my  boy;  tbe  law  eourts  vvill  teach 
bim  to  weigb  bis  wonls  and  deeds.  'l'be  young  Queen,  wbo  is 
now  in  Scotbind,  bad  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it;  but  perbaps 
Cbristopbe  was  very  imjnmb'nt  too.  I  went  tbrongb  terrible 
grief. — AH  tbis  will  probably  lead  to  my  rctiring  l'rom  busi- 
ness; 1  will  never  go  to  Court  any  more.  My  son  bas  bad 
enough  of  tbe  Kcformation  now;  it  has  left  bim  with  broken 
arms  and  legs.    But  for  Ambroisc,  wbere  should  I  be?" 

Tbanks  to  thèse  spoecbes  and  to  bis  prudence,  a  report 
was  spread  in  the  ncighborhood  that  Cbristopbe  no  longer 
followed  tbe  ereed  of  Colas.  Every  one  tbougbt  it  quite 
natural  that  tbe  old  Syndic  should  wish  to  see  his  son  a 
lawyer  in  the  Parlement,  and  thus  the  priest's  ealls  seemed 
quite  a  matter  of  course.  In  thinking  of  the  old  man's  woes, 
no  one  tbougbt  of  his  ambition,  which  would  hâve  been 
deemed  monstrous. 

The  young  lawyer,  who  had  spent  ninety  days  on  the  bed 
put  up  for  him  in  the  old  sitting-room,  had  only  been  out  of  it 
for  a  week  past,  and  still  needed  the  help  of  crutches  to  enable 
him  to  walk.  Babette's  affection  and  his  mother's  tenderness 
had  touched  Christophe  deeply;  still,  having  him  in  bed,  the 
two  women  lectured  him  soundly  on  the  subject  of  religion. 
Président  de  Thou  came  to  see  his  godson,  and  was  most 
paternal.  Christophe,  as  a  pleader  in  the  Parlement,  ought 
to  be  a  Catholic,  he  would  be  pledged  to  it  by  his  oath  ;  and 
the  Président,  who  never  seemed  to  doubt  the  young  man's 
orthodoxy,  added  thèse  important  words  : 

"You  bave  been  cruelly  tested,  my  boy.  I  myself  know 
nothing  of  the  reasons  Messieurs  de  Guise  had  for  treating 
you  thus;  but  now  I  exhort  you  to  live  quietly  henceforth, 
and  not  to  interfère  in  broils,  for  the  favor  of  the  King  and 


ABUUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  221 

Queen  will  not  be  sho\ra  to  such  as  brew  storms.  You  are 
not  a  great  enough  nian  to  drive  a  bargain  with  the  King, 
like  the  Duke  and  the  Cardinal.  If  you  want  to  be  councillor 
in  the  Parlement  some  day,  you  can  only  attain  that  high 
office  by  serious  dévotion  to  the  cause  of  Royalty." 

However,  neither  Monsieur  de  Thou's  visit,  nor  Babette's 
charms,  nor  the  entreaties  of  Mademoiselle  Lecamus  his 
mother,  had  shakcn  the  faith  of  the  Protestant  martyr. 
Christophe  clung  ail  the  more  stoutly  to  his  religion  in  pro- 
portion to  what  he  had  suffered  for  it. 

"My  father  will  never  allow  me  to  marry  a  heretic/'  said 
Babette  in  his  car. 

Christophe  replied  only  with  tears,  whicli  left  the  pretty 
girl  speechless  and  thoughtful. 

Old  Lecamus  maintained  his  dignity  as  a  father  and  a 
Syndic,  watched  his  son,  and  said  little.  The  old  man,  hav- 
ing  got  back  his  dear  Christophe,  was  almost  vexed  with 
himself,  and  repentant  of  having  displayed  ail  his  affection 
for  his  only  son  ;  but  secretly  he  admired  him.  At  no  time  in 
his  life  had  the  furrier  pulled  so  many  wires  to  gain  his  ends; 
for  he  could  see  the  ripe  harvest  of  the  crop  sown  with  so 
niuch  toil,  and  wished  to  gather  it  ail. 

A  few  days  since  he  had  had  a  long  conversation  with 
Christophe  alone,  hoping  to  discover  the  secret  of  his  son's 
tenacity.  Christophe,  who  was  not  devoid  of  ambition,  be- 
lieved  in  the  Prince  de  Condé.  The  Prince's  generous  speech 
— which  was  no  more  than  the  stock-in-trade  of  princes — 
was  stamped  on  his  heart.  He  did  not  know  that  Condé  had 
wished  him  at  the  devil  at  the  moment  when  he  bid  him  such 
a  touching  farewell  through  the  bars  of  his  prison  at  Orléans. 

"A  Gascon  would  hâve  understood,"  the  Prince  had  said  to 
himself. 

And  in  spite  of  his  admiration  for  the  Prince,  Christophe 
cherished  the  deepest  respect  for  Catherine,  the  great  Queen 
who  had  explained  to  him  in  a  look  that  she  was  compelled 
by  necessity  to  sacrifice  him,  and  then,  during  his  torture, 
had  conveyed  to  him  in  another  glance  an  unlimited  promise 
by  an  almost  imperceptible  tear. 


•JL'J  AIU>UT  CATIIKKINK   DK'   MEDICI 

Diirinj;  tlu'  di'cp  calin  of  tlic  iiincly  ilays  aiid  iiiu'lits  lio 
had  spont  in  recovcriiiix,  tlu'  mu  ly  madc  lawycr  thou^dil.  ovor 
thc  ovents  at  Hlois  ami  at  Orlraiis.  Ile  \voi«j;lu'(l,  iii  spitc  of 
hiinsolf.  it  inav  bo  said,  tlu'  inlhu'iicc  df  tluso  two  ])atrons; 
lie  hositalod  bolwcoii  tho  (JiKvn  niid  Ihc  i'rincc.  Ile  liad 
oortainly  donc  inoro  for  Calhorinc  lliaii  l'or  tlie  Koforniaiion  ; 
and  tho  young  man's  hoart  and  inind,  of  course,  went  forth. 
to  tho  QiKvn,  less  by  rcason  of  iliis  dilTorcnco  than  because 
phe  was  a  wonian.  In  sueh  a  case  a  nian  will  always  foimd 
his  hopcs  on  a  woman  radier  tlian  on  a  iiian. 

''I  imniolatod  niyself  for  lier — wliat  will  shc  not  do 
for  me?" 

This  was  tlie  (juestioii  lie  almost  involuiitarily  asked  himself 
as  he  recallcd  the  tone  in  wliicli  sbe  had  said,  "My  poor  boy!" 

It  is  difficult  to  conçoive  of  the  pitch  of  self-consciousness 
reachcd  by  a  man  alone  and  sick  in  bed.  Everything,  even 
the  care  of  which  he  is  the  object,  tends  to  make  him  think 
of  himself  alone.  By  exaggerating  the  Prince  de  Condé's 
obligations  to  him,  Christophe  looked  forward  to  obtaining 
some  post  at  the  Court  of  Xavarre.  The  lad,  a  novice  still 
in  politics,  wavS  ail  the  more  forgetful  of  the  anxieties  which 
absorb  party  leaders,  and  of  the  swift  rush  of  mon  and  events 
which  overnile  thoni,  because  he  lived  almost  in  solitary  im- 
prisonment  in  that  dark  parlor.  Every  party  is  bound  to  be 
ungrateful  when  it  is  fighting  for  dear  life;  and  when  it  has 
won  the  day,  thcre  are  so  many  persons  to  be  rewarded,  that 
it  is  ungrateful  still.  The  rank  and  file  submit  to  this 
oblivion,  but  the  captains  turn  against  the  new  master  who 
for  so  long  has  marched  as  their  equal. 

Christophe,  the  only  person  to  remember  what  he  had  suf- 
fered,  already  reckoned  himself  as  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the 
Eeformation  by  considering  himself  as  one  of  its  martyrs. 
Lecamus,  the  old  wolf  of  trade,  acute  and  cloar-sightcd,  had 
guessed  his  son's  secret  thoughts;  indeed,  ail  his  manœuvring 
was  based  on  the  very  natural  hesitancy  that  possessed  the 
lad. 

''Would  not  it  be  fine/'  he  had  said  the  day  before  to 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  223 

Babette,  "to  be  the  wife  of  a  Councillor  to  the  Parlement; 
you  would  be  addressed  as  madame." 

*'You  are  crazy,  neighbor,"  said  l^allicr.  "In  the  first 
place,  where  would  you  find  ten  thousaud  crowns  a  year  in 
landed  estate,  which  a  Councillor  must  show,  and  from  whom 
could  you  purchase  a  connection?  The  Queen-mother  and 
Régent  would  hâve  to  give  ail  her  mind  to  it  to  get  your  son 
into  the  Parlement;  and  ho  smells  of  the  stake  too  strongly 
to  be  admitted." 

"What  would  you  give,  now,  to  see  your  daughter  a  Coun- 
cillor's  wife  ?" 

"You  want  to  sound  the  depth  of  my  purse,  you  old  fox  !" 
exclaimed  Lallier. 

Councillor  to  the  Parlement  !  The  words  distracted  Chris- 
tophe's  brain. 

Long  after  the  conférence  was  over,  one  morning  when 
Christophe  sat  ga^ing  at  the  river,  which  reminded  him  of 
the  scène  that  was  the  beginning  of  ail  this  story,  of  the 
Prince  de  Condé,  la  Eenaudie,  and  Chaudieu,  of  his  joumey 
to  Blois,  and  of  ail  he  hoped  for,  the  Syndic  came  to  sit 
down  by  his  son  with  ill-disguised  glee  under  an  affectation 
of  solemnity. 

"My  boy,"  said  he,  "after  what  took  place  between  you 
and  the  heads  of  the  riot  at  Amboise,  they  owed  you  so 
much  that  your  future  might  very  well  be  cared  for  by  the 
House  of  Xavarre." 

"Yes,"  replied  Christophe. 

"Well,"  his  father  went  on,  "I  hâve  defînitely  applied  for 
permission  for  you  to  purchase  a  légal  business  in  Béarn.  Our 
good  friend  Paré  undertook  to  transmit  the  letters  I  wrote 
in  your  name  to  the  Prince  de  Condé  and  Queen  Jeanne. — 
Hère,  read  this  reply  from  Monsieur  de  Pibrac,  Vice-Chan- 
cellor  of  Navarre  : — 

"To  Master  Lecamus,  Syndic  of  the  Guild  of  Furriers. 
"His  Highness  the  Prince  de  Condé  bids  me  express  to  you 
his  regret  at  being  unable  to  do  anything  for  his  fellow- 


L'i:»  ATIOI'T  CATIIIOUIMO   DE"   MKDICI 

prisoner  in  llic  Tour  di'  Saint-. Vi^nnn,  \\hiiMi  lie  iTnicinlxTS 
woll.  and  1(1  wlioin,  fur  ilir  prcMiil.  lie  oITits  tlic  |ilacc  of 
inan-at-ai"nis  in  liis  ov^n  cDiniianv,  wlicrc  lie  will  liavc  Iho 
o[i)>(>r(uiiil_v  of  niakin^c  liis  wav  as  a  nian  of  <;oo(l  hoart — 
w  liirli  ho  is. 

"'riio  Qiu'cn  of  Navarre  hopes  for  an  occasion  of  reward- 
ing  Mastcr  C'hristoj)lio,  and  will  net  fail. 

"Antl  willi  tins,  Monsieur  le  Syndic,  I  pray  God  havc  you 
in    Ilis    kcfping.  I'iukac, 

"ChanccUor  of  Navarre. 

"Nérac." 

"Nérac!  Tibrac!  Crac!"  cried  Babette.  "There  is  noth- 
ing  to  bo  got  out  of  thèse  Gascons;  they  think  only  ol  theni- 
selves." 

Old  Lecamus  was  looking  at  his  son  witli  ironical  amuse- 
ment. 

"And  lie  wants  to  set  a  poor  boy  on  horseback  wliose 
knees  and  ankles  were  pounded  up  for  him  !"  cried  the 
mothcr.    "What  a  shameful  mockery  !" 

"I  do  net  seom  to  see  you  as  a  Councillor  in  Navarre/'  said 
the  old  furrier. 

"I  should  likc  to  know  what  Queen  Catherine  would  do 
for  me  if  I  petitioned  her/'  said  Christophe,  much  crest- 
fallen. 

"She  made  no  promises,"  said  the  old  merchant,  "but  I 
am  sure  she  would  not  make  a  fool  of  you,  and  would  re- 
member  your  sufferings.  Still,  how  could  she  make  a  coun- 
cillor-at-law  of  a  Protestant  citizen  ?" 

"But  Christophe  lias  ncver  abjured  !"  exclaimed  Babette. 
"He  may  surely  keep  his  own  secret  as  to  his  religious  opin- 


ions." 


"The  Prince  de  Condé  would  be  less  scornful  of  a  Coun- 
cillor to  the  Parlement  of  Paris,"  said  Lecamus. 

"A  Councillor,  father!   Is  it  possible?" 

'TTes,  if  you  do  nothing  to  upset  what  I  am  managing  for 
you.    My  neighbor  Lallier  hère  is  ready  to  pay  two  hundred 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  225 

thousand  livres,  if  I  add  as  mucli  again,  for  the  purchase  of 
a  fine  estate  entailed  on  the  heirs  maie,  which  we  will  hand 
over  to  you." 

"And  I  will  add  something  more  for  a  house  in  Paris,"  said 
Lallier. 

''TV'ell,  Christophe  ?"  said  Babette. 

"You  are  talking  without  the  Queen,"  replied  the  young 
lawyer. 

Some  days  after  tins  bitter  mortification,  an  apprentice 
brought  this  brief  note  to  Christophe  : 

"Chaudieu  wishes  to  see  his  son." 

"Bring  him  in,"  said  Christophe. 

"0  my  saint  and  martyr!"  cried  the  preacher,  embrac- 
ing  the  young  m  an,  "hâve  you  got  over  your  sufferings  ?" 

"Yes,  thanks  to  Paré." 

"Thanks  to  God,  who  gave  you  strength  to  endure  them! 
But  what  is  this  I  hear?  You  hâve  passed  as  a  pleader,  you 
hâve  taken  the  oath  of  fidelity,  you  hâve  eonfessed  the  Whore, 
the  Catholic,  Apostolic,  Romish  Church." 

"My  father  insisted." 

"But  are  we  not  to  leave  father  and  mother  and  children 
and  wife  for  the  sacred  cause  of  Calvinism,  and  to  suffer 
ail  things? — Oh,  Christophe,  Calvin,  the  great  Calvin,  the 
■whole  party,  the  whole  world,  the  future  counts  on  your 
courage  and  your  greatness  of  soûl  !    We  want  your  life." 

There  is  this  strange  feature  in  the  mind  of  man  :  the 
most  devoted,  even  in  the  act  of  devoting  himself,  always 
builds  up  a  romance  of  hope  even  in  the  most  perilous  crisis. 
Thus,  when  on  the  river  under  the  Pont  au  Change,  the 
prince,  the  soldier,  and  the  preacher  had  required  Chris- 
tophe to  carr}'  to  Queen  Catherine  the  document  which,  if 
discovercd,  would  hâve  cost  him  his  life,  the  boy  had  trusted 
to  his  wit,  to  chance,  to  his  perspicacity,  and  had  boldly 
marched  on  between  the  two  formidable  parties — the  Guises 
and  the  Queen — who  had  so  nearly  crushed  him.  While  in 
the  torture-chamber  he  still  had  said  to  himself,  "I  shall  livé 
through  it — it  is  only  pain  1" 


22n  AHOr-p  CATIIEIUNE  DE*   MKDICI 

But  at  tliis  brutal  coiiimaïul,  '■hic!"  to  a  man  who  was 
still  lu'lpli'ss,  lumlly  n'cdvnrd  froiii  llic  injuries  lir  liad  suf- 
fored,  and  who  cliing  ail  tlie  more  to  lifi'  fui-  liaving  seeii 
doath  so  nrar,  it  was  iiiipossiblo  io  iiulul^i'  in  any  such  illu- 
sions. 

Christophe  calnily  askod,  "Wlial  do  you  want  of  nie?" 

"To  fîre  a  pistol  bravcly,  as  Stuart  fired  at  Minard." 

"At  whom?" 

"The  Due  de  Guise." 

"Assassinat  ion?" 

"Revenge! — Ilavo  you  forgotton  tho  hundred  gentlemen 
massacre  on  one  scaiï'old  !  A  child,  little  d'Aubigné,  said  as 
he  saw  the  butchery,  'They  hâve  behcadcd  ail  France.'  " 

"We  are  to  take  blows  and  not  to  rcturn  them,  is  the  teach- 
ing  of  the  Gospel,"  replied  Christophe.  "If  we  are  to  imitate 
the  Catholics,  of  what  use  is  it  to  reform  the  Churcli?" 

"Oh,  Christophe,  thoy  hâve  made  a  lawyer  of  you,  and  you 
argue  !"  said  Chaudieu. 

"No,  my  friend,"  the  youth  replied.  "But  principles  are 
ungrateful,  and  you  and  yours  will  ouly  be  the  playtliings 
of  the  House  of  Bourbon." 

"Oh,  Christophe,  if  you  had  only  heard  Calvin,  you  would 
know"  that  we  can  tuni  them  like  a  glove  !  The  Bourbons  are 
the  glove,  and  we  the  hand." 

"Read  this,"  said  Christophe,  handing  Pibrac's  letter  to 
the  minister. 

"Alas,  boy  !  you  are  ambitious  ;  you  can  no  longer  sacrifice 
yourself;"  and  Chaudieu  went  away. 

Not  long  after  this  visit,  Christophe,  with  the  familles 
of  Lallier  and  Lecamus,  had  met  to  celebrate  the  plighting 
of  Babette  and  Christophe  in  the  old  parler,  whence  Chris- 
tophe's  couch  was  now^  removed,  for  he  could  climb  the  stairs 
now,  and  was  beginning  to  drag  himself  about  without 
crutches.  It  was  nine  in  the  evening,  and  they  waited  for 
Ambroise  Paré.  The  family  notary^  was  sitting  at  a  table 
covered  with  papers.     The  furrier  was  seUing  his  house  and 


ABOl'T  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  227 

business  to  his  head-clerk,  who  was  to  pay  forty  tliousand 
livres  down  for  the  house,  and  to  mortgage  it  as  security  for 
the  stock-in-trade,  besides  paying  twenty  tliousand  livres  on 
aceount. 

Leeamus  had  purchased  for  his  son  a  magnificent  house 
in  the  Rue  de  Saint-Pierre  aux  Bœufs,  built  of  stone  by 
Philibert  de  l'Orme,  as  a  wedding  gift.  The  Syndic  had 
also  spent  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  livres  out  of  his 
fortune,  Lallier  paying  an  equal  sum,  for  the  acquisition 
of  a  fine  manor  and  estate  in  Picardy,  for  which  five  hun- 
dred thousand  livres  were  asked.  This  estate  being  a  de- 
pendence  of  the  Crcwri,  lettors  patent  from  the  King — called 
letters  of  rescript — were  necessary,  besides  the  payment  of 
considérable  fines  and  fées.  Thus  the  actual  marriage  was  to 
be  postponed  till  the  royal  signature  could  be  obtained. 

Though  the  citizens  of  Paris  had  obtained  the  right  of  pur- 
chasing  manors  and  lands,  the  prudence  of  the  Privy  Coun- 
cil  had  placed  certain  restrictions  on  the  transfer  of  lands 
belonging  to  the  Crown;  and  the  estate  on  which  Leeamus 
had  had  his  eye  for  the  last  ten  years  was  one  of  thèse.  Am- 
broise  had  undertaken  to  produce  the  necessary  permission 
this  very  evening.  Old  Leeamus  went  to  and  fro  between  the 
sitting-room  and  the  front  door  with  an  impatience  that 
showed  the  eagerness  of  his  ambition. 

At  last  Ambroise  appeared. 

"My  good  friend  !"  exclaimed  the  surgeon  in  a  great  fuss, 
and  looking  at  the  supper-table,  "what  is  your  napery  like? 
— Very  good. — Xow  bring  waxlights,  and  niake  haste,  make 
haste.    Bring  out  the  best  of  ever}'thing  you  bave." 

"What  is  the  matter  ?"  asked  the  priest  of  Saint-Pierre  aux 
Bœufs. 

"The  Queen-mother  and  the  King  are  coming  to  sup  with 
you,"  replied  the  surgeon.  "The  Queen  and  King  expect  to 
meet  hère  an  old  Councillor,  whose  business  is  to  be  sold  to 
Christophe,  and  Monsieur  de  Thou,  who  bas  managed  the 
bargain.  Do  not  look  as  if  you  expected  them;  I  stole  out 
of  the  Louvre." 


22S  AHOUT  CATIIKUINIO   DK/   MKDICI 

lu  iiii  iiistiiiit  ail  wvvc  astir.  ('liristoj)lu''s  inollicr  ami 
Bnbotto'ri  auiii  Initicd  alxtiit  in  ail  tlic  IIuity  of  liousowivca 
takt'ii  by  surprise.  In  spile  of  Ihc  conrusion  iiitn  wliich  tlie 
annouiKrinont  liad  (lirown  tlu'  i>arly,  préparations  were  made 
with  iniracnlous  oncrj^y.  Clirislopln»,  aniazcd,  astoundod, 
ovorpoworod  by  such  eondoscension,  stood  spcechlcss,  looking 
on  at  ail  thc  bustlo. 

"The  Queen  and  Ihe  King  hère!"  said  thr  old  inother. 

"Thc  Queen?"  echoed  Babette;  "bul  what  for,  what  to 
dor 

Witliin  an  hour  ever^'thing^  was  altercd  ;  thc  old  room  was 
smarleued  \\\),  the  table  shone.  A  sound  of  horses  was  heard 
in  the  street.  The  gleam  of  torches  carried  by  the  mounted 
escort  brought  ail  (lie  neighbora'  noses  to  the  Windows.  The 
rush  was  soon  over;  no  one  was  left  under  the  arcade  but 
the  Queen-niother  and  her  son,  King  Charles  IX.,  Charles 
de  Gondi,  Master  of  the  Wardrobe,  and  tutor  to  the  King; 
Monsieur  de  Thou,  tho  retiring  Councillor;  Pinard,  Secre- 
tary  of  State,  and  two  pages. 

"Good  folks,"  said  the  Queen  as  slic  went  in,  "the  King, 
my  son,  and  I  hâve  corne  to  sign  the  marriage  contract  of 
our  furrier's  son,  but  on  condition  that  hc  reraains  a  Catholic. 
Only  a  Catholic  can  serve  in  the  Parlement,  only  a  Catholic 
can  own  lands  dépendent  on  the  Crown,  only  a  Catholic 
can  sit  at  table  with  the  King — what  do  you  say.  Pinard  ?" 

The  Seeretary  of  State  stepped  forward,  holding  the  let- 
ters  patent. 

"If  we  are  not  ail  Catholics  hère,"  said  the  little  King, 
"Pinard  will  throw  ail  the  papers  into  the  fire  ;  but  we  are  ail 
Catholics?"  he  added,  looking  round  proudly  enough  at  the 
Company. 

"Yes,  Sire,"  said  Christophe  Lecamus,  bending  the  knee, 
not  without  difficulty,  and  kissing  the  hand  the  young  King 
held  out  to  him. 

Queen  Catherine,  who  also  held  out  her  hand  to  Chris- 
tophe, pulled  him  up  rather  roughly,  and  leading  him  into 
a  corner,  said: 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  229 

'TTnderstand,  boy,  no  subterfuges  !  We  are  playing  an 
honest  game?" 

*'Yes,  madame/'  he  said,  dazzled  by  this  splendid  reward 
and  by  the  honor  the  grateful  Quecn  had  done  him. 

"Well,  tben,  Master  Lecamus,  the  King,  my  son,  and  I 
permit  you  to  purchase  the  offices  and  appointments  of  this 
good  man  Groslay,  Couneillor  to  the  Parlement,  who  is 
hère,"  said  the  Queen.  "I  hope,  young  man,  that  you  will 
follow  in  the  footsteps  of  your  Lord  Président." 

De  Thou  came  forward  and  said: 

"I  will  answer  for  him,  madame." 

"Very  well,  then  proceed,  notary,"  said  Pinard. 

"Since  the  King,  our  master,  does  us  the  honor  of  signing 
my  daughter's  marriage-contract,"  cried  Lallier,  "I  will  pay 
the  whole  priée  of  the  estate." 

''The  làdies  may  be  seated,"  said  the  young  King  gra- 
ciously.  "As  a  wedding  gift  to  the  bride,  with  my  mother's 
permission,  I  remit  my  fines  and  fées," 

Old  Lecamus  and  Lallier  fell  on  their  knees  and  kissed  the 
boy-King's  hand. 

"By  Heaven,  Sire,  what  loads  of  money  thèse  citizens 
hâve  !"  said  Gondi  in  his  ear. 

And  the  young  King  laughed. 

"Their  Majesties  being  so  graciously  inclined,"  said  old 
Lecamus,  "will  they  allow  me  to  présent  to  them  my  suc- 
cessor  in  the  business,  and  grant  him  the  royal  patent  as 
furrier  to  their  Majesties?" 

"Let  us  see  him,"  said  the  King,  and  Lecamus  brought 
forward  his  successor,  who  was  white  with  alarm. 

Old  Lecamus  was  shrewd  enough  to  offer  the  young  King 
a  silver  cup  which  he  had  bought  from  Benvenuto  Cellini 
when  he  was  staying  in  Paris  at  the  Tour  de  Nesle,  at  a  cost 
of  not  less  than  two  thousand  crowns. 

"Oh,  mother  !  what  a  fine  pièce  of  work  !"  cried  the  youth, 
lifting  the  cup  by  its  foot. 

"It  is  Florentine,"  said  Catherine. 

"Pardon  me,  madame,"  said  Lecamus;  "it  was  made  in 
15 


230  ABOrr  CATIIEIUXE  DE'   MEDICI 

Franco,  tlimifrh  bv  n  Florentine.  If  il  had  eome  froni  Flor- 
ence, it  should  hâve  hin^n  thc  (^iimrs;  Imt  being  made  in 
France,  it  is  the  Kiiii^^'s." 

"1  accept  it.  niy  l'riend,"  cried  Charles  IX.,  "and  hence- 
forth  I  drink  ont  of  it." 

"It  is  good  enough,"  the  Queen  reniarked,  "to  be  included 
among  the  Crown  treasnre." 

"And  von,  Master  Ambroise,"  she  went  on  in  an  nnder- 
tone,  tnrning  to  the  snrgeon,  and  pointing  to  Christophe, 
"hâve  you  cured  hini?   Will  lie  walk?" 

"He  will  fly,"  said  the  surgeon,  with  a  smile.  "You  hâve 
stolen  him  from  us  very  cleverly  !" 

"The  abbey  will  not  starvc  for  lack  of  one  monk  !"  rcplied 
the  Queen,  in  the  frivolous  tone  for  which  she  bas  been 
blamed,  but  which  lay  only  on  the  surface. 

The  supper  was  cheerful  ;  the  Queen  thought  Babette 
pretty,  and,  like  the  great  lady  she  was,  she  slipped  a  diamond 
ring  on  the  girl's  finger  in  compensation  for  the  value  of  the 
silver  cup. 

King  Charles  IX.,  who  afterwards  was  perhaps  rather  too 
fond  of  thus  invading  bis  subjects'  homes,  supped.  with  a 
good  appetite;  then,  on  a  word  from  his  new  tutor,  who  had 
been  instructed,  it  is  said,  to  efface  the  virtuous  teaching  of 
C}^ierre,  he  incited  the  Président  of  Parlement,  the  old  re- 
tired  councillor,  the  Secretary  of  State,  the  priest,  the  notary, 
and  the  citizens  to  drink  so  deep,  that  Queen  Catherine  rose 
to  go  at  the  moment  when  she  saw  that  their  high  spirits  were 
becoming  uproarious. 

As  the  Queen  rose,  Christophe,  his  father,  and  the  two 
women  took  up  tapers  to  light  her  as  far  as  the  door  of  the 
shop.  Then  Christophe  made  so  bold  as  to  pull  the  Queen's 
"wide  sleeve  and  give  her  a  meaning  look.  Catherine  stopped, 
dismissed  the  old  man  and  the  women  with  a  wave  of  her 
hand,  and  said  to  the  young  man — "What  ?" 

"If  you  can  make  any  use  of  the  information,  madame," 
said  he,  speaking  close  to  the  Queen's  ear,  "I  can  tell  you  that 
assassins  are  plotting  against  the  Duc  de  Guise's  life." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  231 

"You  are  a  loyal  subject,"  said  Catherine  vriih  a  smile, 
"and  I  will  never  forgct  you." 

She  held  out  lier  hand,  famous  for  its  beauty,  drawing  off 
her  glove  as  a  mark  of  spécial  favor.  And  Christophe,  as 
he  kissed  that  exquisite  hand,  was  more  Royalist  than  ever. 

"Then  I  shall  be  rid  of  that  wretch  without  my  having 
anything  to  do  with  it,"  was  her  reflection  as  she  put  on  her 
glovo. 

She  mountcd  her  mule  and  returned  to  the  Louvre  with 
her  two  pages. 

Christophe  drank,  but  ho  was  gloomy;  Paré's  austère  face 
reproached  him  for  his  apostasy  ;  however,  later  events  justi- 
fied  the  old  Syndic.  Christophe  would  certainly  never  hâve 
escaped  in  the  massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomew;  his  wealth 
and  lands  would  bave  attracted  the  butchers.  History  has  re- 
corded  the  cruel  fate  of  the  wife  of  Lallier's  successor,  a 
beautiful  woman,  whose  naked  bod}'  remained  hanging  by  the 
hair  for  three  days  to  one  of  the  starlings  of  the  Pont  au 
Change.  Babette  could  shudder  then  as  she  refiected  that 
such  a  fate  might  bave  becn  hers  if  Christophe  had  remained 
a  Calvinist,  as  the  Reformers  were  soon  generally  called. 
Calvin's  ambition  was  fulfilled,  but  not  till  after  his  death. 

This  was  the  origin  of  the  famous  Lecamus  family  of  law- 
yers.  Tallemant  des  Réaux  was  mistaken  in  saying  they  had 
come  from  Picardy.  It  was  afterwards  to  the  interest  of  the 
Lecamus  family  to  refer  their  beginnings  to  the  time  when 
they  had  acquired  their  principal  estate,  situated  in  that 
province. 

Christophe's  son,  and  his  successor  under  Louis  XIII.,  was 
father  of  that  rich  Président  Lecamus,  who  in  Louis  XIV.'s 
time  built  the  magnifîcent  mansion  which  divided  with  the 
Hôtel  Lambert  the  admiration  of  Parisians  and  foreigners, 
and  which  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest  buildings  in  Paris. 
This  house  still  exists  in  tho  Rue  de  Thorigny,  though  it  was 
pillaged  at  the  beginning  of  tho  Révolution,  as  belonging  to 
Monsieur  de  Juigné,  Archbishop  of  Paris.   Ail  the  paintings 


2n2  ABOUT  CATnElUNR  DE'  AfEDTOI 

Avoi\'  (Iifii  (lofaoï^d,  jiiul  ihc  l(iil;,Mi-s  wlio  liMvc  siiicedwelt  there 
hâve  still  furihcr  dainnp'd  it.  Tliis  fine  rcsidcnoe,  earned 
in  tln>  old  lions. ■  in  (h,'  \U\r  ilr  la  r.'llctcri.\  slill  sliows  what 
spliMidid  rcsulls  wcrc  thcii  tlic  outcoiiio  <»!'  l'aiiuly  spirit.  We 
iiiay  hv  allowcd  to  doubi  whclhcr  modem  individiialism,  ro- 
sultiiiiT  fioiii  Ihe  repeated  equal  division  of  propcrty,  will 
ever  raise  such  ediiices. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  233 


PART   II 


THE  RUGGIERI'S  SECRET. 


Between"  eleven  o'clock  and  raidnight,  towards  the  end  of 
October  1573,  two  Florentines,  brothers,  Albert  de  Gondi, 
Marshal  of  France,  and  Charles  de  Gondi  la  Tour,  Master 
of  the  Wardrobe  to  King  Charles  IX.,  were  sitting  at  the  top 
of  a  house  in  the  Rue  Saint-Honoré  on  the  edge  of  the  gutter. 
Such  gutters  were  made  of  stone;  they  ran  along  below  the 
roof  to  catch  the  rain-water,  and  were  pierced  hère  and  there 
with  long  gargoyles  carved  in  the  form  of  grotesque  créatures 
with  gaping  jaws.  In  spite  of  the  zeal  of  the  présent  généra- 
tion in  the  destruction  of  ancient  houses,  there  were  still  in 
Paris  many  such  gutter-spouts  when,  not  long  since,  the 
police  régulations  as  to  waste-pipes  led  to  their  disappear- 
ance.  A  few  seulptured  gutters  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the 
Saint-Antoine  quarter,  where  the  low  rents  hâve  kept  owners 
from  adding  rooms  in  the  roof. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  two  persons  invested  with.  such 
important  functions  should  hâve  chosen  a  perch  more  be- 
fitting  cats.  But  to  any  one  who  has  hunted  through  the  his- 
torical  curiosities  of  that  time,  and  seen  how  many  interests 
were  complicated  about  the  throne,  so  that  the  domestic  poli- 
tics  of  France  can  only  be  compared  to  a  tangled  skein  of 
thread,  thèse  two  Florentines  are  really  cats,  and  quite  in 
their  place  in  the  gutter.  Their  dévotion  to  the  person  of 
Catherine  de'  Medici,  who  had  transplanted  them  to  the 
French  Court,  required  them  to  shirk  none  of  the  consé- 
quences of  their  intrusion  there. 

But  to  explain  how  and  why  thèse  two  courtiers  were 
perched  up  there,  it  will  be  necessary  to  relate  a  scène  which 


-^1  AHurr  cAriiHui.NK  Dir  miodigi 

had  just  tiikon  i)1juv  williin  a  slono's  throw  of  tliis  giitter,  at 
tlu"  Loiiviv.  in  du'  fine  hrown  rodiii— wliicli  is,  jx'rhaps,  ail 
that  ivniains  of  llonri  U."s  apartinents— wlicrc  llie  Court 
was  iu  altoiulanco  aftor  siippcr  ou  the  two  Qucens  and  thc 
Kini,'.  At  that  linn'  niidillo-class  folk  suppcd  al  six  o'clock, 
and  nicn  of  rank  at  scvcii  ;  hiit  jxoiilc  of  cxcitiisitc  fashion 
suiijiod  l)o(\vc>i'n  oiglil  and  ninc;  il  was  thc  lucal  we  nowadays 
call  dinner. 

Sonie  peoplc  havo  siipposrd  llial  étiquette  was  the  inven- 
tion of  Louis  XIV.  ;  but  this  is  a  uiistake;  it  was  introduced 
into  France  by  Catherine  de'  Medici,  who  was  so  exaeting 
that  the  Connétable  Anne  de  Montmorency  had  more  diiïi- 
culty  in  obtaining  leave  to  ride  into  the  courtyard  of  the 
Louvre  than  in  winning  his  sword,  and  even  then  the  permis- 
sion was  granted  only  on  the  score  of  his  great  âge.  Eti- 
quette was  slightly  relaxcd  under  the  iîrst  three  Bourbon 
Kings,  but  assumed  an  Oriental  character  under  Louis  the 
Great,  for  it  was  derived  from  the  Lower  Empire,  which  bor- 
rowod  it  from  Pcrsia.  In  1573  not  only  had  very  few  per- 
sons  a  right  to  enter  the  courtyard  of  the  Louvre  with  their 
attendants  and  torches,  just  as  in  Louis  XIV.'s  time  only 
dukes  and  peers  might  drive  under  the  porch,  but  the  func- 
tions  which  gave  the  privilège  of  attending  their  Majesties 
after  supper  could  easily  bo  counted.  The  Maréchal  de  Retz, 
whom  we  bave  just  seen  keeping  watch  on  the  gutter,  once 
offered  a  thousand  crovvns  of  that  day  to  the  clerk  of  the 
closet  to  get  speech  of  Henri  III.  at  an  hour  when  he  had 
no  right  of  entrée.  And  how  a  certain  vénérable  historian 
mocks  at  a  view  of  the  courtyard  of  the  château  of  Blois,  into 
which  the  draughtsman  introduced  the  figure  of  a  man  on 
horseback  ! 

At  this  hour,  then,  there  were  at  the  Louvre  none  but  the 
most  eminent  persons  in  the  kingdom.  Queen  Elizabeth  of 
Austria  and  her  mother-in-law,  Catherine  de'  Medici,  were 
seated  to  the  left  of  the  fireplace.  In  the  opposite  corner 
the  King,  sunk  in  his  armchair,  affected  an  apathy  excusable 
on  the  score  of  digestion,  for  he  had  eaten  like  a  prince  re- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  285 

tumed  from  hunting.  Possibly,  too,  he  wished  to  avoid 
speech  in  the  présence  of  so  raany  persons  whose  interest  it 
was  to  detect  his  thoughts. 

The  courtiers  stood,  hat  in  hand,  at  the  further  end  of  the 
room.  Some  couversed  in  undertones;  others  kept  an  eye 
on  the  King,  hoping  for  a  glance  or  a  word.  One,  being  ad- 
dressed  by  the  Queen-niother,  conversed  with  her  for  a  few 
minutes.  Another  would  be  so  bold  as  to  speak  a  word  to 
Charles  IX.,  who  replied  with  a  nod  or  a  short  answer.  A 
German  noble,  the  Count  of  Solern,  was  standing  in  the  chim- 
ney  corner  by  the  side  of  Charles  V.'s  grand-daughter,  with 
whoni  he  had  corne  to  France.  Near  the  young  Queen, 
seated  on  a  stool,  was  her  lady-in-waiting,  the  Countess 
Fieschi,  a  Strozzi,  and  related  to  Catherine.  The  beautiful 
Madame  de  Sauves,  a  descendant  of  Jacques  Cœur,  and  mis- 
tress  in  succession  of  the  King  of  Navarre,  of  the  King  of 
Poland,  and  of  the  Duc  d'Alençon,  had  been  invited  to  sup- 
per,  but  she  remained  standing,  her  husband  being  merely  a 
Secretary  of  State.  Behind  thèse  two  ladies  were  the  two 
Gondis,  talking  to  them.  They  alone  were  laughing  of  ail 
the  dull  assembly.  Gondi,  made  Duc  de  Retz  and  Gentle- 
man of  the  Bedchamber,  since  obtaining  the  Marshal's  bâton 
though  he  had  never  commanded  an  army,  had  been  sent  as 
the  King's  proxy  to  be  married  to  the  Queen  at  Spires.  This 
lionor  plainly  indicated  that  he,  like  his  brother,  was  one  of 
the  few  persons  whom  the  King  and  Queen  adniitted  to  a 
certain  familiarity. 

On  the  King's  side  the  most  conspicuous  figure  was  the 
Maréchal  de  Tavannes,  who  was  at  Court  on  business  ;  Neuf- 
ville  de  Villeroy,  one  of  the  shrewdest  negotiators  of  the 
time,  who  laid  the  foundation  of  the  fortunes  of  his  family; 
Messieurs  de  Birague  and  de  Chiverni,  one  in  attendance  on 
the  Queen-mother,  the  other  Chancellor  of  Anjou  and  of 
Poland,  who,  knowing  Catherine's  favoritism,  had  attached 
himself  to  Henr}-  III.,  the  brother  whom  Charles  IX.  re- 
garded  as  an  enemy;  Strozzi,  a  cousin  of  Queen  Catherine's, 
and  a  few  more  gentlemen,  among  whom  were  to  be  noted 


^0  APOUT  CATITEKINE  DE'  MEDICI 

tlu'  old  Cardinal  dt'  I-onaiiic,  and  liis  lu'plu'w,  the  young 
Due  do  Ciuiso,  bolh  vcrv  imich  kopl  al  a  distance  by  Catherine 
and  liy  the  Kin^.  Tliese  two  ehiefs  of  tlie  Iloly  Alliance, 
afterwards  known  as  the  Leaij^ue,  estahlished  some  years  since 
with  Spain,  niade  a  dis})lay  of  the  subniission  of  servants  who 
await  their  oiii)ortunity  to  beconie  the  niasters;  Catherine 
and  Charles  IX.  were  Matching  caeh  otlicr  with  mutual  at- 
tention. 

At  this  Court — as  glooniy  as  the  room  in  which  it  had 
assenibled — oiich  one  had  reasons  for  sadness  or  absence  et 
mind.  The  young  (^ueen  was  enduring  ail  the  tornients  of 
jcalousy,  and  disguised  theni  ineirectually  by  attcmpting  to 
smilc  at  lier  husband,  whom  she  adored  as  a  pious  woman 
of  infinité  kindness.  Marie  Touchct,  Charles  IX. 's  only  inis- 
tress,  to  whoni  lie  was  chivalrously  faithful,  had  conie  home 
a  month  since  froni  the  château  of  Fayet,  in  Daupiiiné, 
whithcr  she  had  retired  for  the  birth  of  her  child;  and  she 
had  brought  back  with  her  the  only  son  Charles  IX.  ever  had 
— Charles,  at  first  Comte  d'Auvergne,  and  afterwards  Duc 
d'Angoulême. 

Besides  the  grief  of  sccing  her  rival  the  mothcr  of  the 
King's  son,  while  she  had  only  a  daughter,  the  poor  Queen 
was  endijring  the  mortification  of  complète  désertion.  Dur- 
ing  his  mistress'  absence,  the  King  had  made  it  up  with  his 
wife  with  a  véhémence  which  history  mentions  as  one  of  the 
causes  of  his  death.  Thus  ]\Iarie  Touchet's  return  made  the 
pious  Austrian  princess  understand  how  little  her  husband's 
heart  had  bcen  concerned  in  his  love-making.  Nor  was  this 
the  only  disappointment  the  young  Queen  had  to  endure  in 
this  mattcr:  till  now  Catherine  de'  Medici  had  seemed  to 
be  her  friend;  but,  in  fact,  her  mother-in-law,  for  politieal 
ends,  had  encouraged  lier  son's  infidelity,  and  preferred  to 
support  the  mistress  rather  than  the  wife.  And  this  is  the 
reason  why. 

When  Charles  IX.  first  confessed  his  passion  for  Marie 
Touchet,  Catherine  looked  with  favor  on  the  girl  for  rea- 
sons   affecting    her    own    prospects    of    dominion.     Marie 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  237 

Touchet  was  brought  to  Court  at  a  very  early  âge,  at  the 
time  of  life  wheu  a  girl's  best  feelings  are  in  their  bloom; 
she  loved  the  King  passionately  for  his  own  sake.  Terrified 
at  the  gulf  into  which  ambition  had  ovcrthrown  the  Duchesse 
de  Valentinois,  botter  known  as  Diane  de  Poitiers,  she  was 
afraid  too,  no  doubt,  of  Queen  Catherine,  and  preferred 
happiness  to  splendor.  She  thought  perhaps  that  a  pair  of 
lovers  so  young  as  she  and  the  King  were  could  not  hold  their 
own  against  the  Queen-mother. 

And,  indeed,  Marie,  the  only  child  of  Jean  Touchet,  the 
lord  of  Beauvais  and  le  QuiHard,  King's  Councillor,  and 
Lieutenant  of  the  Bailiwick  of  Orléans,  half-way  between  the 
citizen  class  and  the  lowest  nobility,  was  neither  altogether 
a  noble  nor  altogether  bourgeoise,  and  was  probably  ignorant 
of  the  objects  of  innate  ambition  aimed  at  by  the  Pisseleus 
and  the  Saint-Valliers,  women  of  family  who  were  struggling 
for  their  familles  with  the  secret  weapons  of  love.  Marie 
Touchet,  alone,  and  of  no  rank,  spared  Catherine  de'  Medici 
the  annoyance  of  finding  in  her  son's  mistress  the  daughter 
of  some  great  house  who  might  hâve  set  up  for  her  rival. 

Jean  Touchet,  a  wit  in  his  day,  to  whom  some  poets  dedi- 
cated  their  works,  wanted  nothing  of  the  Court.  Marie,  a 
young  créature,  with  no  following,  as  élever  and  well-in- 
formed  as  she  was  simple  and  artless,  suited  the  Queen- 
mother  to  admiration,  and  won  her  warm  affection. 

In  point  of  fact,  Catherine  persuaded  the  Parlement  to 
acknowledge  the  son  which  Marie  Touchet  bore  to  the  King  in 
the  month  of  April,  and  she  granted  him  the  title  of  Comte 
d'Auvergne,  promising  the  King  that  she  would  leave  the  boy 
her  Personal  estate,  the  Comtés  of  Auvergne  and  Lauraguais. 
Afterwards,  Marguerite,  Queen  of  Navarre,  disputed  the 
gif t  when  she  became  Queen  of  France,  and  annulled  it  ;  but 
later  still,  Louis  XIII.,  out  of  respect  to  the  Koyal  blood  of 
the  Valois,  indemnified  the  Comte  d'Auvergne  by  making 
him  Due  d'Angouléme. 

Catherine  had  already  given  Marie  Touchet,  who  asked  for 
nothing,  the  manor  of  Belleville,  an  estate  without  a  title, 


288  ABOLT  CA'lllKKl.NE   DK'   .MEUICI 

near  Vinoi'niu*s,  wliither  sho  came  wlu'ii,  aftor  hunting,  the 
Kinj^  slopt  at  that  lùiyal  rosidoncv.  Charles  IX.  speiit  the 
greater  part  uf  his  later  ihiys  in  that  gloomy  fortress,  and, 
according  to  some  authors,  eiuled  his  days  tlicre  as  Louis  XII. 
had  eiided  his.  Though  it  was  vi'ry  natural  (hat  a  lover  80 
entiroly  captivated  sliould  lavish  on  the  woinaii  lie  adored 
fresh  proofs  of  alfection  when  lie  had  to  expialc  his  legiti- 
mate  infidelitics,  Catherine,  after  driving  lier  son  hack  to  his 
wife's  arnis,  certainly  pleaded  for  Marie  Touchet  as  wonicn 
can,  and  had  won  the  King  baek  to  his  mistress  again. 
Whatcver  could  kecp  Charles  IX.  eniiiloyed  in  anything  but 
politics  was  plcasing  to  Catherine;  and  the  kind  intentions 
she  cxj)re.<$cd  towards  this  child  for  the  moment  deceivcd 
Charles  IX.,  who  was  beginning  to  regard  lier  as  his  enemy. 

The  motives  on  which  Catherine  acted  in  this  business 
escaped  the  discernment  of  the  Quoen,  who,  according  to 
Brantôme,  was  one  of  the  gentlest  Queens  that  ever  reigned, 
and  who  did  no  harm  nor  displeasure  to  any  one,  even  read- 
ing  her  Hours  in  secret.  But  this  innocent  Princess  began 
to  perceive  what  gulfs  yawn  round  a  thronc,  a  terrible  dis- 
covery  which  might  well  make  her  feel  giddy;  and  some  still 
worse  feeling  must  hâve  inspired  her  reply  to  one  of  her 
ladies,  who,  at  the  King's  death,  observed  to  her  that  if  she 
had  had  a  son,  she  would  be  Queen-mother  and  Eegent  : 

"Ah,  God  be  praised  that  He  never  gave  me  a  son  !  What 
would  hâve  corne  of  it?  Tlie  poor  child  would  hâve  been 
robbed,  as  they  tried  to  rob  the  King  my  husband,  and  I 
should  hâve  been  the  cause  of  it. — God  has  had  mercy  on 
the  kingdom,  and  has  ordered  everything  for  the  best." 

This  Princess,  of  whom  Brantôme  thinks  he  has  given  an 
ample  description  when  he  had  said  that  she  had  a  com- 
plexion  of  face  as  fine  and  délicate  as  that  of  the  ladies  of 
her  Court,  and  very  pleasing,  and  that  she  had  a  beautiful 
shape  though  but  of  middle  height,  was  held  of  small  ac- 
count  at  the  Court;  and  the  King's  state  afïording  her  an 
excuse  for  her  double  grief,  her  demeanor  added  to  the 
gloomy  hues  of  a  picture  to  which  a  young  Queen  less  cnielly 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  239 

stricken  tlian  she  was  might  hâve  given  some  brightness.  The 
pious  Elizabeth  was  at  this  crisis  a  proof  of  the  fact  that 
qualities  which  add  lustre  to  a  woman  in  ordinary  life  may 
be  fatal  in  a  Queen.  A  Princess  who  did  not  dévote  her  whole 
night  to  prayer  would  hâve  been  a  valuable  ally  for  Charles 
IX.,  who  found  no  help  eitlier  in  his  wife  or  in  liis  mistress. 

As  to  the  Queen-mother,  she  was  absorbed  in  watching 
the  King;  he  during  supper  had  made  a  display  of  high 
spirits,  which  she  interpreted  as  assumed  to  cloak  some  plan 
against  herself.  Sueh  sudden  cheerfulness  was  in  too  strong 
a  contrast  to  the  fractions  humor  he  had  betrayed  by  his  per- 
sistency  in  hunting,  and  by  a  frenzy  of  toil  at  his  forge,  where 
he  wTought  iron,  for  Catherine  to  be  duped  by  it.  Though 
she  could  not  guess  what  statesman  was  lending  himself  to 
thèse  schemes  and  plots — for  Charles  IX.  could  put  his 
mother's  spies  off  the  scent — Catherine  had  no  doubt  that 
some  plan  against  her  was  in  the  wind. 

The  unexpeeted  appearance  of  Tavannes,  arriving  at  the 
same  time  as  Strozzi,  whom  she  had  summoned,  had  greatly 
aroused  her  suspicions.  By  her  power  of  organization 
Catherine  was  superior  to  the  évolution  of  circumstances  ; 
but  against  sudden  violence  she  was  poweriess. 

As  many  persons  know  nothing  of  the  state  of  affairs,  com- 
plicated  by  the  multiplicity  of  parties  which  then  racked 
France,  each  leader  having  his  own  interests  in  view,  it  is 
needful  to  dévote  a  few  words  to  describing  the  dangerous 
crisis  in  which  the  Queen-mother  had  become  entangled. 
And  as  this  will  show  Catherine  de'  Medici  in  a  new  light, 
it  will  carr}^  us  to  the  very  core  of  this  narrative. 

Two  words  will  fully  summarize  this  strange  woman,  so 
interesting  to  study,  whose  influence  left  such  deep  traces  on 
France.  Thèse  two  words  are  dominion  and  astrology. 
Catherine  de'  Medici  was  excessively  ambitions;  she  had  no 
passion  but  for  power.  Superstitious  and  a  fatalist,  as  many 
a  man  of  superior  mind  bas  been,  her  only  sincère  belief  was 
in  the  occult  sciences.  Without  this  twofold  light,  she  must 
always  remain  misunderstood  ;  and  by  giving  the  first  place 


'2\0  AHOTT  CATIIKHINE  DE'   MKDICI 

to  luT  f;iiih  in  iistrolo^y.  a  li,i;lit  will  bi'  thrown  on  the  two 
philosophioal  fiixiires  of  iliis  Stutly. 

TluTC  was  a  man  wIkuii  Cathrriiir  cluiiix  to  more  tlian 
to  lier  childiTii  ;  this  iii;in  was  Cosino  lîiijïgicM-i.  She  gave 
hiin  rooiii!^  in  hvv  llôli'l  do  Soissons;  slio  liad  iiiade  liiin  hor 
ohief  coiinselor,  inslructinc:  liiin  to  tell  lier  if  the  stars  ratificd 
tlio  advico  and  coinnion-soiisp  of  hcr  ordiiiary  adviscrs. 

Certain  turioiis  antécédent  facts  justified  the  power  which 
"Ru^urieri  exerted  over  his  niistross  till  lier  latcst  breath.  One 
of  the  niost  loanied  nien  of  tho  sixteonth  century  was  be- 
yond  donbt.  the  physieian  to  Oatherine's  father,  Lorenzo  de' 
.Mediri.  Ouke  of  Urbino.  This  leech  was  known  as  Kuggicro 
the  elder  (vecchio  Ruggier,  and  in  P>eneh  Roger  l'Ancien, 
with  authors  who  bave  written  concerning  alchcmy),  to  dis- 
tinguish  liim  from  his  two  sons,  Lorenzo  Riiggiero,  called  the 
Great  by  writers  on  the  Cabala,  and  Cosnio  Tiiiggiero,  Oather- 
ine's astrologer,  also  known  as  Roger  by  varions  Frcnch  his- 
torians.  French  custom  altered  tlieir  naine  to  Euggieri,  as 
it  did  Oatherine's  from  Medici  to  Medicis. 

Tlie  elder  Euggieri,  then,  was  so  highly  estecmed  by  the 
family  of  the  Medici  that  the  two  Dukes,  Oosmo  and 
Lorenzo,  were  godfathers  to  his  sons.  In  his  capacity  of 
mathematician,  astrologer,  and  physieian  to  the  Ducal 
House — three  ofTices  that  were  often  scarccly  distinguished — 
he  cast  the  horoscope  of  Oatherine's  nativity,  in  concert  with 
Bazile,  the  famous  mathematician.  At  that  period  the  oc- 
cult  sciences  were  cultivated  with  an  eagerncss  which  may 
seem  surprising  to  the  sceptical  spirits  of  this  supremely 
analytical  âge,  who  perhaps  may  find  in  this  historical  sketch 
the  germ  of  the  positive  sciences  which  flourish  in  the  nine- 
teenth  century — bereft,  however,  of  the  poetic  grandeur 
brought  to  them  by  the  daring  speculators  of  the  sixteenth; 
for  they,  instead  of  applying  themselves  to  industry,  exalted 
art  and  vivified  thought.  The  protection  universally  granted 
to  thèse  sciences  by  the  sovereigns  of  the  period  was  indeed 
justifîed  by  the  admirable  works  of  inventors  who,  starting 
from  the  search  for  the  magnum  opus,  arrived  at  astonishing 
results. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  241 

Never,  in  fact,  were  nilers  more  curions  for  thèse  mysteries. 
The  Fugger  faiiiily,  in  wliom  every  modem  Lucullus  must 
recognize  his  chiefs,  and  every  banker  his  masters,  were  be- 
yond  a  doubt  men  of  business,  not  to  be  eaught  nodding  ;  well, 
thèse  practical  men,  while  lending  the  capitalized  wealth 
of  Europe  to  the  sovereigns  of  the  sixteenth  century — who 
rau  into  dobt  quite  as  handsomely  as  those  of  to-day — thèse 
illustrions  entcrtainers  of  Charles  V.  furnished  funds  for  the 
retorts  of  Paracelsus.  At  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, Ruggieri  the  elder  was  the  head  of  that  secret  collège 
whence  came  Cardan,  Nostradamus,  and  Agrippa,  each  in 
turn  physician  to  the  Valois;  and  ail  the  astronomers,  as- 
trologers,  and  alchemists  who  at  that  period  crowded  to  the 
Courts  of  the  Princes  of  Christendom,  and  who  found  especial 
welcome  and  protection  in  France  from  Catherine  de'  Medici. 

In  the  horoscope  cast  for  Catherine  by  Bazile  and  Rug- 
gieri the  elder,  the  principal  events  of  her  life  were  predicted 
with  an  accuracy  that  is  enough  to  drive  disbelievers  to  de- 
spair. This  forecast  announced  the  disasters  which,  during 
the  siège  of  Florence,  afïected  her  early  life,  her  marriage 
with  a  Prince  of  France,  his  unexpected  accession  to  the 
throne,  the  birth  and  the  number  of  her  children.  Three  of 
her  sons  were  to  reign  in  succession,  her  two  daughters  were 
to  become  queens  ;  ail  were  to  die  childless.  And  this  was  ail 
so  exactly  verified,  that  many  historians  hâve  regarded  it  as 
a  prophecy  after  the  event. 

It  is  well  known  that  Nostradamus  brought  to  the  château 
of  Chaumont,  whither  Catherine  went  at  the  time  of  la 
Renaudie's  conspiracy,  a  woman  who  had  the  gift  of  reading 
the  future.  Now  in  the  time  of  Francis  II.,  when  the 
Queen's  sons  were  still  children  and  in  good  health,  before 
Elizabeth  de  Valois  had  married  Philip  II.  of  Spain,  or  Mar- 
guerite de  Valois  had  married  Henri  de  Bourbon,  King  of 
Navarre,  Nostradamus  and  this  soothsayer  confirmed  ail  the 
détails  of  the  famous  horoscope. 

This  woman,  gifted  no  doubt  with  second-sight,  and  one 
of  the  extensive  association  of  indefatigable  inquirers  for 


242  ABOT'T  (WTTTllKINK  DIV  AIFniCI 

llu'  nuK/tium  t»/>M.<.  tlu)ii<:;li  lur  lil'i'  lias  cvatlt'd  tlu'  ken  of 
historv,  forotold  tliat  tlic  lust  of  thcse  cliildren  lo  wcnr  (lie 
crown  wouUl  porish  assassinatod.  llaviii»,^  placcd  tho  Quoen 
in  front,  of  a  niaj^it'al  niirror  in  whicli  a  si)inninii;-\vhool  was 
rotloctod,  cach  child's  face  ai)jK'arin<r  al  thc  end  of  a  s})oke, 
the  sootlisaycr  niadc  tlic  wlur!  m  ni,  nnd  llic  (.liiccn  countcd 
llic  nund)or  of  turns.  Each  tu  ni  was  a  ycar  of  a  reign. 
Whon  Henri  IV.  M'as  placcd  on  the  wlieel,  il  wcnt  round 
twenty-two  finies.  The  woinan — sonie  say  it  was  a  inan — 
told  the  terrified  Qneen  that  Henri  do  Bourbon  would  ccr- 
tainly  he  King  of  Franco,  and  rcigu  so  many  years.  Queen 
Catherine  vowed  a  niortal  liatred  of  the  Béarnais  on  hearing 
that  he  would  succeed  the  last,  murdered  Valois. 

Curions  to  know  what  sort  of  deatli  she  hcrself  would  die, 
shc  was  warned  to  beware  of  Saint-Cormain.  Thenceforth, 
thinking  that  she  would  be  imprisoned  or  violently  killed  at 
the  château  of  Saint-Germain,  she  ncver  set  foot  in  it,  though, 
by  its  nearness  to  Paris,  it  was  infinitely  better  situated  for 
her  plans  than  those  where  she  took  refuge  with  the  King  in 
troublcd  finies.  When  she  fell  ill,  a  few  days  after  the  Duc 
de  Guise  was  assassinated,  during  the  assenibly  of  the  States- 
General  at  Blois,  she  asked  the  nanie  of  the  prelate  who  came 
to  minister  to  her.  She  was  told  that  his  name  was  Saint- 
Germain. 

"I  am  a  dead  woman  !"  she  eried. 

She  died  the  next  da}',  having  lived  just  the  number  of 
years  allotted  to  her  by  every  reading  of  lier  horoscope. 

This  scène,  known  to  the  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  who 
ascribed  it  to  the  Black  Art,  was  being  realized;  Francis  II. 
had  reigned  for  two  turns  only  of  the  wheel,  and  Charles  IX. 
was  achieving  his  last.  When  Catherine  spoke  thèse  strange 
words  to  her  sou  Henri  as  he  set  out  for  Poland,  "You  will 
soon  return  !"  they  must  be  ascribed  to  her  faith  in  the 
occult  sciences,  and  not  to  any  intention  of  poisoning 
Charles  IX.  Marguerite  de  France  was  now  Queen  of  Na- 
varre; Elizabeth  was  Queen  of  Spain;  the  Duc  d'Anjou  was 
King  of  Poland. 


ABOLÎT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  243 

Many  other  circumstanccs  contributcd  to  confirai  Cather- 
ine's  belief  in  the  occult  sciences.  On  the  eve  of  the  tourua- 
ment  where  Henri  II.  was  mortally  wounded,  Catherine  saw 
the  fatal  thrust  in  a  dream.  Her  astrological  council,  con- 
sisting  of  ISTostradamiis  and  the  two  Kuggieri,  had  foretold 
the  King's  death.  History  has  recordcd  Catherine's  eamest 
entreaties  that  he  should  not  enter  the  lists.  The  prognostic, 
and  the  dream  begotten  of  the  prognostic,  were  verified. 

The  chronicles  of  the  time  relate  another  and  not  less 
strange  fact.  The  courier  who  brought  news  of  the  victory 
of  Moncontour  arrived  at  night,  having  riddcn  so  hard  that 
he  had  killed  thrce  horses.  The  Queen-mother  was  roused, 
and  said,  "I  knew  it." 

"In  fact,"  says  Brantôme,  "she  had  the  day  before  an- 
Dounced  her  son's  success  and  some  détails  of  the  fight." 

The  astrologer  attached  to  the  House  of  Bourbon  foretold 
that  the  youngest  of  the  Princes  in  direct  descent  from  Saint- 
Louis,  the  son  of  Antoine  de  Bourbon,  would  be  King  of 
France.  This  prophecy,  noted  by  Sully,  was  fulfilled  pre- 
cisely  as  described  by  the  horoscope,  which  made  Henri  IV. 
remark  that  by  dint  of  lies  thèse  astrologers  hit  on  the  truth. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  most  of  the  clever  men  of  the  time  be- 
lieved  in  the  far-reaching  "science  of  the  Magi,"  as  it  was 
called  by  the  masters  of  astrology — or  sorcery,  as  it  was 
termed  by  the  people — and  they  were  justified  by  the  vérifica- 
tion of  horoscopes. 

It  was  for  Cosmo  Euggieri,  her  mathematician  and  as- 
trologer— her  wizard,  if  you  will — that  Catherine  erected  the 
pillar  against  the  corn-market  in  Paris,  the  only  remaining 
relie  of  the  Hôtel  de  Soissons.  Cosmo  Euggieri,  like  con- 
fessors,  had  a  mysterious  influence  which  satisfied  him,  as  it 
does  them.  His  secret  ambition,  too,  was  superior  to  that  of 
vulgar  minds.  This  man,  depictcd  by  romance-writers  and 
playwrights  as  a  mère  juggler,  held  the  rich  abbey  of  Saint- 
Mahé  in  Lower  Brittany,  and  had  refused  high  ecclesiastical 
preferment;  the  money  he  derivod  in  abundance  from  the 
superstitious  mania  of  the  time  was  sufficient  for  his  private 


•jii  Aiunr  (AriiKuiNK  i>e'  miodici 

nn(îi'rtakin<:^s;  aiul  tlic  Cjuccirs  liaml,  cxtciulcii  tt)  ])rotect  his 
hoiul,  prescrved  every  liair  of  it   fidin  li;inii. 

As  to  rathorino's  dcvouriiii,'  Ihirsl  fdr  doininion,  lior  dé- 
sire to  luiiuiiv  powcr  Nvas  so  j^i't'iit  tliat,  in  orilcr  to  grasp  it, 
she  could  ally  licrsolf  willi  tlu'  (îiiiscs,  thc  cncinics  of  the 
tlirono;  ami  to  kcop  tlie  reins  of  State  iii  Iut  oui)  liands,  slio 
adopted  evon*  means,  sacrifu'injT  hcr  fricnds,  and  eveii  lier 
children.  Tiiis  woinaii  aniid  nol  li\c  uitlniiil  thc  iiilrifîuos  of 
nile,  as  a  ganibler  eannot  iive  withoiit  the  exeitenieiit  of  play. 
Thouirh  siic  was  an  Italian  and  a  dau_2:lder  of  the  luxurious 
Metiiei,  the  Caivinists,  thou_:;h  tliey  calunniiated  her  plenti- 
fully,  ncvcr  aceused  her  of  liaving  a  lover. 

Appreciating  the  raaxim  "Divide  to  reign,"  for  twclve  years 
she  had  been  constantly  playing  ofï  one  force  against  another. 
As  soon  as  she  took  the  reins  of  governnient  into  her  hands, 
she  was  compelled  to  encourage  discord  to  iieutralize  the 
strength  of  two  rival  Houses  and  save  the  throne.  This 
necessary  system  justified  Henri  II. 's  foresight.  Catherine 
was  the  inventer  of  the  political  see-saw,  imitated  since  by 
every  Prince  who  has  found  himself  in  a  siinilar  position; 
she  iipheld,  by  turns,  the  Calvinists  against  the  (îuises,  and 
the  Guises  against  the  Calvinists.  Then,  after  using  the  two 
creeds  to  check  each  other  in  the  heart  of  the  people,  she 
set  the  Duc  d'Anjou  against  Charles  IX.  After  using  things 
to  counteract  each  other,  she  did  the  same  with  men,  always 
keeping  the  due  to  their  interests  in  her  own  hands. 

But  in  this  tremendous  game,  which  requires  the  head  of 
a  Louis  XI.  or  a  Louis  XVIII.,  the  player  inevitably  is  the 
object  of  hatred  to  ail  parties,  and  is  condemned  to  win  un- 
failingly,  for  one  lost  battle  makes  every  interest  his  enemy, 
until  indeed  by  dint  of  winning  he  ends  by  finding  no  one  to 
play  against  him.  The  greater  part  of  Charles  IX. 's  reign 
was  the  triumph  of  the  domestic  policy  carried  out  by  this 
wonderful  wonian.  What  extraordinary  skill  Catherine  must 
hâve  brought  into  play  to  get  the  chief  command  of  the  army 
given  to  the  Duc  d'Anjou,  under  a  brave  young  King  thirst- 
ing  for  glory,  capable  and  generous — and  in  the  face  of  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  245 

Connétable  Anne  de  Montmorency  !  The  Duc  d'Anjou,  in 
the  eyes  of  ail  Europe,  reaped  the  honovs  of  Saint-Bartholo- 
mew's  Day,  while  Charles  IX.  had  ail  the  odium.  x\fter  in- 
stilling  into  the  King's  mind  a  spurious  and  covert  jealousy 
of  his  brother,  she  worked  upon  this  feeling  so  as  to  exhaust 
Charles  IX. 's  really  fine  qualities  in  the  intrigues  of  rivalr}' 
with  his  brother.  Cypierre,  their  fîrst  tutor,  and  Amyot, 
Charles  IX. 's  preceptor,  had  made  their  royal  charge  so  noble 
a  man,  and  had  laid  the  foundations  of  so  great  a  reign,  that 
the  mother  hated  the  son  from  the  very  first  day  when  she 
feared  to  lose  her  power  after  having  conquered  it  with  so 
much  difficulty. 

Thèse  facts  hâve  led  certain  historians  to  believe  that  the 
Queen-mother  had  a  préférence  for  Henri  III.  ;  but  her  be- 
havior  at  this  juncture  provcs  that  her  heart  was  absolutely 
indiffèrent  towards  her  children.  The  Duc  d'x\njou,  when 
he  went  to  govern  Poland,  robbed  her  of  the  tool  she  needed 
to  keep  Charles  IX.'s  mind  fully  occupied  by  thèse  domestic 
intrigues,  which  had  hitherto  neutralized  his  energy  by  giving 
food  to  his  véhément  feelings.  Catherine  then  hatched  the 
conspiracy  of  la  Mole  and  Coconnas,  in  which  the  Duc 
d'Alençon  had  a  liand  ;  and  he,  when  he  became  Duc  d'Anjou 
on  his  brother's  being  made  Iving,  lent  himself  very  readily 
to  his  mother's  views,  and  displayed  an  ambition  which  was 
encouraged  by  his  sister  Marguerite,  Queen  of  Xavarre. 

This  plot,  now  ripened  to  the  point  which  Catherine  de- 
sired,  aimed  at  putting  the  young  Duke  and  his  brother-in- 
law,  the  King  of  Xavarre,  at  the  head  of  the  Calvinists,  at 
seizing  Charles  IX.,  thus  making  the  King,  who  had  no  heir, 
a  prisoner,  and  leaving  the  throne  free  for  the  Duke,  who 
proposed  to  establish  Calvinism  in  France.  Only  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  Calvin  had  won  the  reward  he  hoped  for — 
the  Reformed  creed  was  called  Calvinism  in  his  honor. 

La  Mole  and  Coconnas  had  been  arrested  fifty  days  before 

the  night  on  which  this  scène  opens,  to  be  beheaded  in  the 

following  April;  and  if  le  Laboureur  and  other  judicious 

writers  had  not  amply  proved  that  they  were  the  victims  of 
i6 


240  AIU)UT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

tho  Qucon-mothor,  Cosnio  Ruggieri's  participation  in  the  af- 
fair  would  bo  cnough  to  show  tliat  slic  sccretly  dircctcd  it. 
Tliis  nian,  suspoctcd  and  lialcd  Iiv  (lie  King  for  rcasons  which 
will  bo  prcsoutly  sutriciently  (.'xplaincd,  was  iiiiplicatod  by  the 
in(}uirios.  llo  adrnittod  tliat  lie  had  fnrnishcd  la  Mole  wilh 
an  image  representing  the  King  and  stabbed  to  the  heart  wilh 
two  needles.  This  fonn  of  witehcrafi  wa.s  at  thaï  timc  a 
capital  crime.  This  kind  of  bcdcvilmcnt  (called  in  French 
envoûter,  from  the  Latin  vullus,  it  is  said)  represonted  one 
of  the  most  infernal  conceptions  that  liatred  could  imagine, 
and  tho  word  admirably  exj)resses  the  magnetic  and  terrible 
process  carried  on,  in  oeeult  science,  by  constantly  active 
malevolence  on  the  person  devoted  to  death;  its  eirects  being 
incessantly  suggested  by  tho  sight  of  the  wax  figure.  The  law 
at  that  time  considered,  and  witli  good  reason,  that  the  idea 
thus  embodied  constitutcd  high  treason.  Charles  IX.  dcsired 
the  death  of  the  Florentine;  Catherine,  more  powerful,  ob- 
tained  from  the  Suprême  Court,  through  the  intervention  of 
her  Councillor  Lecamus,  that  her  astrologer  should  be  con- 
demned  only  to  the  galleys.  As  soon  as  the  King  was  dead, 
Ruggieri  was  pardoned  by  an  edict  of  Henri  III. 's,  who  re- 
instated  hira  in  his  revenues  and  received  him  at  Court. 

Catherine  had,  by  this  time,  struck  so  many  blows  on  her 
son's  heart,  that  at  this  moment  he  was  only  anxious  to  shake 
otï  the  yoke  she  had  laid  on  him.  Since  Marie  Touchet's  ab- 
sence, Charles  IX.,  having  nothing  to  occupy  him,  had  taken 
to  observing  very  keenly  ail  that  went  on  around  him.  He  had 
set  very  skilful  snares  for  certain  persons  whom  he  had  trust- 
ed,  to  test  their  fidelity.  He  had  watched  his  mother's  proceed- 
ings,  and  had  kept  her  in  ignorance  of  his  own,  making  use 
of  ail  the  faults  she  had  inculcated  in  order  to  deceive  her. 
Eager  to  efface  the  feeling  of  horror  produced  in  France  by 
the  massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomew,  he  took  an  active  interest 
in  public  affairs,  presided  at  the  council,  and  tried  by  well- 
planned  measures  to  seize  the  reins  of  govemment.  Though 
the  Queen  might  hâve  attempted  to  counteract  her  son's  en- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE"   MEDICI  247 

deavors  by  using  ail  the  influence  that  maternai  authority 
and  her  habit  of  dominion  could  hâve  over  his  mind,  the 
downward  course  of  distrust  is  so  rapid  that,  at  the  first  leap, 
the  son  had  gone  too  far  to  be  recalled. 

On  the  day  when  his  mother's  words  to  the  King  of  Poland 
were  repeated  to  Charles  IX.,  he  already  felt  so  ill  that  the 
most  hideous  notions  dawned  on  his  mind;  and  when  such 
suspicions  take  possession  of  a  son  and  a  King,  nothing  can 
remove  them.  In  fact,  on  his  deathbed  his  mother  waâ 
obliged  to  interrupt  him,  exclaiming,  "Do  not  say  that,  mon- 
sieur !"  when  Charles  IX.,  intrusting  his  wife  and  daughter  to 
the  care  of  Henri  IV.,  was  about  to  put  him  on  his  guard 
against  Catherine. 

Though  Charles  IX.  never  failed  in  the  superficial  respect 
of  which  she  was  so  jealous,  and  she  never  called  the  Kings, 
her  sons,  anything  but  monsieur,  the  Queen-mother  had,  for 
6ome  months  past,  detected  in  Charles'  manner  the  ill-dis- 
guised  irony  of  revenge  held  in  suspense.  But  he  must  be  a 
clever  man  who  could  deceive  Catherine.  She  held  in  her 
hand  this  conspiracy  of  the  Duc  d'Alençon  and  la  Mole,  so 
as  to  be  able  to  divert  Charles'  efforts  at  émancipation  by  his 
new  rivalry  of  a  brother;  but  before  making  use  of  it,  she 
was  anxious  to  dissipate  the  want  of  confidence  which  might 
make  her  reconciliation  with  the  King  impossible — for  how 
could  he  leave  the  power  in  the  hands  of  a  mother  who  was 
capable  of  poisoning  him  ? 

Indeed,  at  this  juncture  she  thought  herself  so  far  in  dan- 
ger that  she  had  sent  for  Strozzi,  her  cousin,  a  soldier  famoua 
for  his  death.  She  held  secret  councils  with  Birague  and  the 
Gondis,  and  never  had  she  so  frequently  consulted  the  oracle 
of  the  Hôtel  de  Soissons. 

Though  long  habits  of  dissimulation  and  advancing  years 
had  given  Catherine  that  Abbess-like  countenance,  haughty 
and  ascetie,  expressionless  and  yet  deep,  reserved  but  scru- 
tinizing,  and  so  remarkable  for  any  student  of  her  portraits, 
those  about  her  perceived  a  cloud  over  this  cold,  Florentine 
mirror.    No  sovereign  was  ever  a  more  imposing  figure  than 


248  ABOUT  CATn,ERlNE  DE'  !\IEDICI 

tins  wonian  hntl  iiiado  horsolf  sinco  tho  day  whon  pho  hnd 
succoedt'd  in  cooroin<x  tlie  (!uisos  aftcr  the  dt.'alh  of  Fran- 
cis II.  lier  black  velvet  hood,  with  a  pcak  ovor  thc  forohcad, 
for  she  never  wcnt  ont  of  mourning  for  Henri  IL,  was,  aa 
it  were,  a  womanly  cowl  round  her  cold,  impcrious  features, 
(o  wliicli  she  could,  liowevcr,  on  occasion,  give  insinualinf]; 
Italian  cliarm.  She  was  so  woll  niade,  tliat  slie  introdiiccd 
tho  fasliion  for  women  to  ride  on  horseback  in  such  a  way 
as  to  display  their  legs;  this  is  enoiigh  to  prove  that  hors 
were  of  perfect  form.  Every  lady  in  Europe  thenceforth  rode 
on  a  side-saddle,  à  la  pîajichette,  for  France  had  long  set  the 
fashions. 

To  any  one  who  can  piclure  this  iniprcssive  figure,  tlie  scène 
in  the  great  rooni  that  evening  has  an  imposing  aspect.  The 
two  Queens,  so  unlike  in  spirit,  in  beauty,  and  in  dress,  and 
almost  at  daggers  drawn,  were  both  much  too  abscnt-minded 
to  give  the  impetus  for  which  the  courtiers  waited  to  raise 
their  spirits. 

The  dead  secret  of  the  drama  which,  for  the  past  six 
months,  the  son  and  mother  had  been  cautiously  playing,  was 
guessed  by  some  of  their  followers;  the  Italians,  more  es- 
pecially,  had  kept  an  attentive  lookout,  for  if  Catherine  should 
lose  the  game,  they  would  ail  be  the  victims.  Under  thèse 
circumstances,  at  a  moment  when  Catherine  and  her  son  were 
vying  with  each  other  in  subterfuges,  the  King  was  the  centre 
of  observation. 

Charles  IX.,  tired  by  a  long  day's  hunting,  and  by  the 
serions  reflections  he  brooded  over  in  secret,  looked  forty  this 
evening.  He  had  reachcd  the  last  stage  of  the  malady  which 
killed  him,  and  which  gave  rise  to  grave  suspicions  of  poison. 
According  to  de  Thou,  the  Tacitus  of  the  Valois,  the  surgeon 
found  unaccountable  spots  in  the  King's  body  {ex  causa  in- 
cognitâ  reperti  livores).  His  funeral  was  even  more  care- 
lessly  conducted  than  that  of  Francis  II.  Charles  the  Ninth 
was  escorted  from  Saint-Lazare  to  Saint-Denis  by  Brantôme 
and  a  few  archers  of  the  Guard  commanded  by  the  Comte 
de  Solern.     This  circumstance,  added  to  the  mother's  sup- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  249 

posed  hatred  of  lier  son,  may  confirm  the  accusation  broiight 
against  her  by  de  Thou  ;  at  Icast  it  gives  weight  to  the  opinion 
hère  expressed,  that  she  cared  little  for  any  of  her  children, 
an  indifférence  which  is  accounted  for  by  her  faith  in  the 
pronouncement  of  astrology.  Such  a  woman  could  not  care 
for  tools  that  were  to  break  in  her  hands.  Henri  III.  was  the 
last  King  under  whom  she  could  hope  to  reign  ;  and  that  was 
ail. 

In  our  day  it  seems  allowable  to  suppose  that  Charles  IX. 
died  a  natural  dcath.  His  excesses,  his  manner  of  life,  the 
sudden  development  of  his  powers,  his  last  struggles  to  seize 
the  reins  of  govemment,  his  désire  to  live,  his  waste  of 
strength,  his  last  sufferings  and  his  last  pleasures,  ail  indi- 
cate,  to  impartial  judges,  that  he  died  of  disease  of  the  lungs, 
a  malady  at  that  time  little  understood,  and  of  which  noth- 
ing  was  known  ;  and  its  symptoms  niight  lead  Charles  himself 
to  believe  that  he  was  poisoncd. 

The  real  poison  given  him  by  his  mother  lay  in  the  evil 
counsels  of  the  courtiers  with  whom  she  surrounded  him,  who 
induced  him  to  waste  his  intellectual  and  physical  powers, 
and  who  thus  were  the  cause  of  a  disease  which  was  purely  in- 
cidental  and  not  congénital. 

Charles  the  Ninth,  at  this  period  of  his  life  more  than  at 
any  other,  bore  the  stamp  of  a  sombre  dignity  not  unbecoming 
in  a  King.  The  majesty  of  his  secret  thoughts  was  reflected 
in  his  face,  which  was  remarkable  for  the  Italian  complexion 
he  inherited  from  his  mother.  This  ivory  pallor,  so  beautiful 
by  artificial  light,  and  so  well  suited  with  an  expression  of 
melancholy,  gave  added  effect  to  his  deep  blue  eyes  showing 
narrowly  under  thick  eyelids,  and  thus  acquiring  that  keen 
acumen  which  imagination  pictures  in  the  glance  of  a  King, 
while  their  color  was  an  aid  to  dissimulation.  Charles'  eyes 
derived  an  awe-inspiring  look  from  his  high,  marked  eye- 
brows — accentuating  a  lofty  forehead — which  he  could  lift 
or  lower  with  singular  facility.  Plis  nose  was  long  and  broad, 
and  thick  at  the  tip — a  true  lion's  nose;  he  had  large  ears; 
light  reddish  hair  ;  lips  of  the  color  of  blood,  the  lips  of  a  con- 


2r;0  AROFT  CATHERINK  DE'   MEDICI 

Bumptivo  man  ;  Ihc  uppor  lip  thin  and  sntirical,  thc  lowcr  full 
cnouj^h  to  indicate  fine  qnalities  of  foeling. 

The  wriiiklos  stampcMl  on  lus  brow  in  early  life,  wlion  ter- 
rible anxiotios  had  blighted  its  fresluioss,  inade  his  face  in- 
tensely  interesting — more  tlian  one  had  been  caused  by  re- 
niorse  for  the  massacre  of  Saint-Barlholomew,  a  deed  which 
had  been  craftily  foistcd  on  hini;  but  tliere  were  two  othcr 
lines  on  his  face  which  would  liave  l)een  cloquent  to  any 
student  who  at  that  time  could  bave  had  a  spécial  révélation 
of  the  principles  of  modem  physiolofjy.  Thèse  lines  made 
a  decp  furrow  from  the  cheek-bones  to  cach  corner  of  the 
mouth,  and  betrayed  the  efforts  made  by  an  exhausted  or- 
panization  to  respond  to  mental  strain  and  to  violent  physical 
enjoyment.  Charles  IX.  was  worn  out.  Thc  Qucen-mother, 
sccin<;  her  wnrk,  miist  bave  felt  some  rcmorse,  unlcss,  indeed, 
politics  stifle  siich  a  fccling  in  ail  who  sit  under  the  purplc. 
If  Catherine  could  bave  foreseen  the  efTccts  of  her  intrigues 
on  her  son,  she  might  perhaps  hâve  shrunk  from  them? 

It  was  a  terrible  spectacle.  The  King,  by  nature  so  strong, 
had  bccome  weak;  the  spirit,  so  nobly  tempered,  was  racked 
by  doubts  ;  this  man,  the  centre  of  authority,  felt  himself 
helpless;  the  naturally  fîrm  temper  had  lost  confidence  in  its 
power.  The  warrior's  valor  had  degenerated  into  ferocity, 
reserve  had  become  dissimulation,  the  rcfincd  and  tender 
passion  of  the  Valois  was  an  insatiable  thirst  for  pleasure. 
This  great  man,  misprizcd,  perverted,  w^ith  every  side  of  his 
noble  spirit  chafed  to  a  sore,  a  King  without  power,  a  loving 
heart  without  a  friend,  torn  a  thousand  ways  by  conflicting 
schemes,  was,  at  four-and-twenty,  the  melancholy  image  of 
a  man  who  has  found  everything  wanting,  who  distrusts 
every  one,  who  is  ready  to  stake  his  ail,  even  his  life.  Only 
lately  had  he  understood  his  mission,  his  power,  his  re- 
sources,  and  the  obstacles  placcd  by  his  mother  in  the  way 
of  the  pacification  of  the  kingdom;  and  the  light  glowed  in 
a  broken  lamp. 

Two  men,  for  whom  the  King  had  so  great  a  regard  that 
he  had  saved  one  from  the  massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomew, 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  251 

and  had  dined  with  the  other  at  a  time  when  his  enemies 
accused  him  of  poisoning  the  King — his  chief  physician  Jean 
Chapelain,  and  the  great  surgeon  Ambroise  Paré — had  been 
sent  for  froni  the  country  by  Catherine,  and,  obeying  the 
summons  in  hot  haste,  arrived  at  the  King's  bedtirae.  They 
looked  anxiously  at  their  sovereign,  and  some  of  the  courtiers 
made  whispered  inquiries,  but  they  answered  with  due  re- 
serve, saying  nothing  of  the  sentence  each  had  secretly  pro- 
nounced.  Now  and  again  the  King  would  raise  his  heavy 
eyelids  and  try  to  conceal  from  the  bystanders  the  glance 
he  shot  at  his  niother.  Suddenly  he  rose,  and  went  to  stand 
in  front  of  the  fireplace. 

"Monsieur  de  Chiverni,"  said  he,  "why  do  you  keep  the 
title  of  Chancelier  of  Anjou  and  Poland?  Are  you  our  ser- 
vant or  our  brother's?" 

"I  am  wholly  yours,  Sire,"  replied  Chiverni,  with  a  bow. 

"Well,  then,  corne  to-morrow;  I  mean  to  send  you  to 
Spain,  for  strange  things  are  doing  at  the  Court  of  Madrid, 
gentlemen." 

The  King  looked  at  his  wife  and  returned  to  his  chair.- 

"Strange  things  are  doing  everywhere,"  he  added  in  a 
whisper  to  Marshal  Tavannes,  one  of  the  favorites  of  his 
younger  days.  And  he  rose  to  lead  the  partner  of  his  youthful 
pleasures  into  the  recess  of  an  oriel  window,  saying  to  him  : 

"I  want  you;  stay  till  the  last.  I  must  know  whether  you 
will  be  with  me  or  against  me.  Do  not  look  astonished.  I 
am  breaking  the  leading  strings.  My  mother  is  at  the  bottom 
of  ail  the  mischief  hère.  In  three  months  I  shall  either  be 
dead,  or  be  really  King.  As  you  love  your  life,  silence  !  You 
are  in  my  secret  with  Solern  and  Villeroy.  If  the  least  hint 
is  given,  it  will  come  from  one  of  you  three. — Do  not  keep 
too  close  to  me;  go  and  pay  your  court  to  my  mother;  tell 
her  that  I  am  dying,  and  that  you  camiot  regret  it,  for  that 
I  am  but  a  poor  créature." 

Charles  IX.  walked  round  the  room  leaning  on  his  old 
favorite's  shoulder,  and  discussing  his  sufferings  with  him, 
to  mislead  inquisitive  persons  ;  then,  fearing  that  his  coldness 


2r.2  A150UT  CATUKKl.Nl':  Di:'   MEDICI 

iniirht  bo  too  niarkod,  lie  woni  io  tallv  witli  ilic  two  Queens, 
calling  Biragiio  to  lus  side. 

Just  thon  Pinard  glidod  in  nt.  (ho  door  and  canio  up  to 
Qucen  Cathorino.  slijij)ing  in  liko  an  ccl,  close  to  the  wall. 
llo  murnuirod  two  words  in  tho  (Jucen-niothcr's  (^ar,  and 
she  repliod  with  an  aHirniativc  nod.  'Plu^  King  did  pot  ask 
wliat  tins  nieant,  bnt  ho  wont  back  to  bis  chair  with  a  scowl 
round  tho  rooni  of  horrible  rage  and  joalousy.  This  little  in- 
cident was  of  inimonse  importance  in  the  eycs  of  ail  tho  Court. 
This  exertion  of  authority  withoui  any  appeal  to  the  King 
was  like  the  drop  of  wator  that  niakes  the  glass  ovcrflow. 
The  young  Queen  and  Countess  Fieschi  withdrew  without  the 
King's  paying  her  the  least  attention,  but  the  Queen-inothcr 
attendod  lier  daughtcr-in-law  to  the  door.  Though  the  mis- 
undcrstanding  bctween  the  mother  and  son  lent  enormous 
interest  to  the  movements,  looks,  and  attitude  of  Catherine 
and  Charles  IX.,  thcir  cold  composure  plainly  showcd.  the 
courtiers  that  they  were  in  the  "way;  as  soon  as  the  Queen 
had  gone  they  took  their  leave.  At  ten  o'clock  no  one  re- 
mained  but  certain  intiniate  persons — the  two  Gondis, 
Tavannes,  the  Comte  de  Solern,  Birague,  and  the  Queen- 
mother. 

The  King  sat  plunged  in  the  deepest  melancholy.  This 
silence  was  fatiguing.  Catherine  seemed  at  a  loss  ;  she  wished 
to  retire,  and  she  wanted  the  King  to  attend  her  to  the  door, 
but  Charles  remaincd  obstinately  lost  in  thought  ;  she  rose  to 
bid  him  good-night,  Charles  was  obliged  to  follow  her  ex- 
ample; she  took  bis  arm,  and  went  a  few  steps  with  him  to 
speak  in  his  ear  thèse  few  words  : 

"Monsieur,  I  hâve  matters  of  importance  to  discuss  with 
you." 

As  she  Icft,  the  Queen-mother  met  the  eyes  of  the  Gondis 
reflocted  in  a  glass,  and  gave  them  a  significant  glance, 
which  her  son  could  not  see — ail  the  more  so  because  he  him- 
self  was  exchanging  meaning  looks  with  the  Comte  de  Solern 
and  Villeroy  ;  Tavannes  was  absorbed  in  thought. 

"Sire/'  said  the  Maréchal  de  Eetz,  coming  out  of  his  medi- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  253 

tations,  "you  seem  right  royally  borcd.  Do  you  never  amuse 
yourself  nowadays  ?  Heaven  above  us  !  where  are  the  times 
when  we  went  gadding  about  the  streets  of  nights  ?" 

"Yes,  those  were  good  times,"  said  the  King,  not  without  a 
sigh. 

"Why  not  be  off  now  ?"  said  Monsieur  de  Birague,  bowing 
himself  out,  with  a  wink  at  the  Gondis. 

"I  always  think  of  that  time  with  pleasure,"  cried  the 
Maréchal  de  Eetz. 

"I  should  like  to  see  you  on  the  roofs.  Monsieur  le  Maré- 
chal," said  Tavannes.  "Sacré  chat  d'Italie,  if  you  might  but 
break  your  neck,"  he  added  in  an  undertone  to  the  King. 

"I  know  not  whether  you  or  I  should  be  nimblest  at 
jumping  across  a  yard  or  a  street;  but  what  I  do  know  is, 
that  neither  of  us  is  more  afraid  of  death  than  the  other," 
replied  the  Duc  de  Eetz. 

"Well,  sir,  will  you  corne  to  scour  the  town  as  you  did 
when  you  were  young?"  said  the  Master  of  the  Wardrobe 
to  the  King. 

Thus  at  four-and-twenty  the  unhappy  King  was  no  longer 
thought  young,  even  by  his  flatterers.  Tavannes  and  the 
King  recalled,  like  two  school-fellows,  some  of  the  good  tricks 
they  had  perpetrated  in  Paris,  and  the  paxty  was  soon  made 
up.  The  two  Italians,  being  dared  ta  jump  from  roof  to 
roof  across  the  street,  pledged  themselves  to  follow  where 
the  King  should  lead.  They  ail  went  to  put  on  common 
clothes. 

The  Comte  de  Solern,  left  alone  with  the  King,  looked  at 
him  with  amazement.  The  worthy  German,  though  filled 
with  compassion  as  he  understood  the  position  of  the  King 
of  France,  was  fidelity  and  honor  itself,  but  he  had  not  a  lively 
imagination.  King  Charles,  surrounded  by  enemies,  and 
trusting  no  one,  not  even  his  wife — who,  not  knowing  that 
his  mother  and  ail  her  servants  were  inimical  to  him,  had 
committed  some  little  indiscrétions — was  happy  to  hâve  found 
in  Monsieur  de  Solern  a  dévotion  which  justified  complète 
confidence.     Tavannes  and  Villeroy  were  only  partly  in  the 


254  ABOUT  CATIIEUINK  PE'  MEDICI 

pecrct.  Tlie  Comte  do  Solorn  alono  know  the  wliolo  of  Ihc 
King's  schonios;  and  ho  was  in  ovor}-  way  vory  useful  to  his 
niastor,  inasinuch  as  that  ho  had  a  handful  of  confidontial 
and  attachod  mon  at  his  ordors  who  ol)ovod  him  hlindly. 
Monsieur  de  Solorn,  wiio  hold  a  command  iii  tlio  Archers 
of  tlie  Guard,  had  for  sonio  days  boon  pioking  from  aniong 
his  mon  somc  who  woro  faithfiil  in  thoir  adhoronce  to  the 
King,  to  form  a  choseu  company.  The  King  could  think 
of  evcr}'thing. 

"Well,  Solern,"  said  Charles  IX.,  "we  werc  necding  a  pre- 
text  for  spending  a  night  ont  of  doors.  1  had  the  excuse, 
of  course,  of  Madame  de  BoUeville;  but  this  is  botter,  for 
my  mother  can  lind  out  what  goes  on  at  Marie's  house." 

Monsieur  de  Solern,  as  he  was  to  attend  the  King,  asked 
if  he  might  not  go  the  rounds  with  some  of  his  Germans, 
and  to  this  Charles  consentcd.  By  eleven  o'clock  the  King, 
in  botter  spirits  now,  set  out  with  his  thrce  companions  to 
explore  the  neighborhood  of  the  Rue  Saint-Honoro. 

"I  will  take  my  lady  by  surprise,"  said  Charles  to  Tavannes 
as  they  went  along  the  lîuc  de  l'Aut niche. 

To  make  this  nocturnal  ploy  more  intelligible  to  those 
who  may  be  ignorant  of  the  topography  of  old  Paris,  it  will 
be  necessary  to  explain  the  position  of  the  Rue  de  l'Autruche. 
The  part  of  the  Louvre,  begun  by  Henri  IL,  was  still  being 
built  amid  the  wreck  of  houses.  Where  the  wing  now  stands 
looking  over  the  Pont  des  Arts,  there  was  at  that  time  a 
garden.  In  the  place  of  the  Colonnade  there  were  a  moat 
and  a  drawbridge  on  which,  somewhat  later,  a  Florentine, 
the  Maréchal  d'Ancre,  met  his  doath.  Beyond  this  garden 
rose  the  turrets  of  the  Hôtel  de  Bourbon,  the  résidence  of 
the  princes  of  that  branch  till  the  day  when  the  Constable's 
treason  (aftcr  he  was  ruined  by  the  confiscation  of  his  pos- 
sessions, decreed  by  Francis  L,  to  avoid  having  to  décide 
between  him  and  his  mother)  put  an  end  to  the  trial  that 
had  cost  France  so  dear,  by  the  confiscation  of  the  Constable's 
estâtes. 

This  château,  wliich  looked  well  from  the  river,  was  not 
destroyed  till  the  time  of  Louis  XIV. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE"   MEDICI  255 

The  Rue  de  l'Autruche  ran  from  the  Rue  Saint- Honoré, 
ending  at  the  Hôtel  de  Bourbon  on  the  quay.  This  street, 
named  de  l'Autriche  on  some  old  plans,  and  de  l'Austruc  on 
others,  has,  like  many  more,  disappeared  from  the  map.  The 
Rue  des  Poulies  would  seem  to  hâve  been  eut  across  the 
ground  occupied  by  the  houses  nearest  to  the  Rue  Saint- 
Honoré.  Authors  hâve  differed,  too,  as  to  the  etymology  of 
the  name.  Some  suppose  it  to  be  derived  from  a  certain 
Hôtel  d'Osteriche  (Osterrichen)  inhabited  in  the  fourteenth 
century  by  a  daughter  of  that  house  who  married  a  French 
nobleman.  Some  assert  that  this  was  the  site  of  the  Royal 
Aviaries,  whither,  once  on  a  time,  ail  Paris  crowded  to  see  a 
living  ostrich. 

Be  it  as  it  may,  this  tortuous  street  was  made  notable 
by  the  résidences  of  certain  princes  of  the  blood,  who  dwelt 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Louvre.  Since  the  sovereign  had  de- 
serted  the  Faubourg  Saint-Antoine,  where  for  several  cen- 
turies he  had  lived  in  the  Bastille,  and  removed  to  the  Louvre, 
many  of  the  nobility  had  settled  near  the  palace.  The  Hôtel 
de  Bourbon  had  its  fellow  in  the  old  Hôtel  d'Alençon  in  the 
Rue  Saint-Honoré.  This,  the  palace  of  the  Counts  of  that 
name,  always  an  appanage  of  the  Crown,  was  at  this  time 
owned  by  Henri  II.'s  fourth  son,  who  subsequently  took  the 
title  of  Duc  d'Anjou,  and  who  died  in  the  reign  of  Henri  III., 
to  whom  he  gave  no  little  trouble.  The  estate  then  reverted 
to  the  Crown,  including  the  old  palace,  which  was  pulled 
down.  In  those  days  a  prince's  résidence  was  a  vast  assem- 
blage of  buildings;  to  form  some  idea  of  its  extent,  we  hâve 
only  to  go  and  see  the  space  covered  by  the  Hôtel  de  Soubise, 
which  is  still  standing  in  the  Marais.  Such  a  palace  included 
ail  the  buildings  necessary  to  thèse  magnificent  lives,  which 
may  seem  almost  problematical  to  many  persons  to  see  how 
poor  is  the  state  of  a  prince  in  thèse  days.  There  were  im- 
mense stables,  lodgings  for  physicians,  librarians,  chancellor, 
chaplains,  treasurers,  officiais,  pages,  paid  servants,  and 
lackeys.  attached  to  the  Prince's  person. 

Not  far  from  the  Rue  Saint-Honoré,  in  a  garden  belonging 


250  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

to  tho  Hôtel,  stood  a  proHy  lit  tic  liouso  built  in  MS20  by  com- 
mand  of  tho  colebrntcd  Diichcsso  d'Alon(,'on,  wliieb  had  sinoe 
bt'Oii  surrouiulcd  witli  otiior  lioiises  croctod  l)v  iiuTcbants. 
Hère  tho  Kin^  had  installed  Marie  Touchet.  Alth(nijj:h  Ihe 
Duc  d'AlenÇj'on  was  cn<:caged  in  a  conspiracy  apjainst  thc  King 
at  that  tinu\  hc  was  incapable  of  annoyin<:;  iiim  in  such  a 
mattcr. 

As  thc  Kiniî  was  obli<::cd  to  pass  by  bis  lady's  door  on  bis 
way  down  thc  Hue  Saint-llonoré,  wherc  at  that  tinie  bighway 
robbcrs  had  no  opportunitics  within  thc  Barrière  des  Ser- 
gents, he  could  hardly  avoid  stopping  thcre.  Wbile  kceping 
a  lookout  for  sonio  strokc  of  liick — a  bclated  citizen  to  be 
robbcd,  or  thc  watcli  to  bc  tbrashed — the  King  scanned  cvcry 
window,  pccping  in  whcrcTcr  he  saw  liglits,  to  sce  what  was 
going  on,  or  to  overhear  a  conversation.  But  he  found  his 
good  city  in  a  provokingly  peaceful  state.  On  a  sudden,  as  he 
came  in  front  of  the  house  kept  by  a  famous  perfumer  named 
René,  who  supplicd  the  Court,  thc  King  was  seized  with  one 
of  those  swift  inspirations  which  arc  suggested  by  antécédent 
observation,  as  he  saw  a  bright  light  shining  from  the  top- 
most  window  of  the  roof. 

This  perfumer  was  strongly  suspected  of  doctoring  rich 
uncles  when  they  complaincd  of  illness;  he  was  credited  at 
Court  with  thc  invention  of  thc  famous  Élixir  à  successions — 
the  Elixir  of  Inhcritance — and  had  bccn  accused  of  poisoning 
Jeanne  d'Albret,  Henri  IV.'s  mother,  who  was  buried  without 
her  head  having  been  opcncd,  in  spite  of  the  express  orders 
of  Charles  IX.,  as  a  contemporary  tells  us.  For  two  months 
past  the  King  had  bccn  sceking  some  strategem  to  cnable 
him  to  spy  ont  the  secrets  of  René's  laboratory,  whither  Cosmo 
Ruggieri  frequcntly  resorted.  Charles  intendcd,  if  anything 
should  arouse  his  suspicions,  to  take  steps  himsclf  without 
the  intervention  of  the  Police  or  the  Law,  over  whom  his 
mother  would  exert  the  influence  of  fear  or  of  bribery. 

It  is  beyond  ail  doubt  that  during  the  pixtcenth  century, 
and  the  years  immediatcly  preceding  and  fnllowing  it,  poison- 
ing had  been  brought  to  a  pitch  of  perfection  which  remains 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  257 

unknown  to  modem  cheraistry,  but  which  is  indisputably 
proved  by  history.  Italy,  the  cradle  of  modem  science,  was 
at  that  time  the  inventor  and  mistress  of  thèse  secrets,  many 
of  which  are  lost.  Eomancers  hâve  made  such  extravagant 
use  of  this  fact,  that  whenever  they  introduce  Italians  they 
make  them  play  the  part  of  assassins  and  poisoners. 

But  though  Italy  had  then  the  monopoly  of  those  subtle 
poisons  of  which  historians  tell  us,  we  must  regard  her 
supremacy  in  toxicology  merely  as  part  of  her  pre-eminence 
in  ail  branches  of  knowledge  and  in  the  arts,  in  which  she 
led  the  way  for  ail  Europe.  The  crimes  of  the  period  were 
not  hers  alone;  she  served  the  passions  of  the  âge,  as  she 
built  magnificently,  commanded  armies,  painted  glorious 
frescoes,  sang  songs,  loved  Queens,  and  directed  politics.  At 
Florence  this  hideous  art  had  reached  such  perfection,  that 
a  woman  dividing  a  peach  with  a  duke  could  make  use  of  a 
knife  of  which  one  side  only  was  poisoned,  and,  eating  the 
untainted  half,  dealt  death  with  the  other.  A  pair  of  per- 
fumed  gloves  introduced  a  mortal  malady  by  the  pores  of 
the  hand  ;  poison  could  be  concealed  in  a  bunch  of  f resh  roses 
of  which  the  fragrance,  inhaled  but  once,  meant  certain  death. 
Don  Juan  of  Austria,  it  is  said,  was  poisoned  by  a  pair  of 
boots. 

So  King  Charles  had  a  right  to  be  inquisitive,  and  it 
is  easy  to  imagine  how  greatly  the  dark  suspicions  which  tor- 
mented  him  added  to  his  eagemess  to  detect  Eené  in  the  act, 

The  old  fountain,  since  rebuilt,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue 
de  l'Arbre-Sec,  afforded  this  illustrions  crew  the  necessary 
access  to  the  roof  of  a  house,  which  the  King  pretended  that 
he  wished  to  invade,  not  far  from  René's.  Charles,  followed 
by  his  companions,  began  walking  along  the  roofs,  to  the 
great  terror  of  the  good  folks  awakened  by  thèse  marauders, 
who  would  call  to  them,  giving  them  some  coarsely  grotesque 
name,  listen  to  family  squabbles  or  love-makings,  or  do  some 
vexations  damage. 

When  the  two  Gondis  saw  Tavannes  and  the  King  clam- 
bering  along  the  roof  adjoining  René's,  the  Maréchal  de  Retz 


l!.-^  AHOUT  CATIIIOUIMO   1>10'   .MEDICI 

sal  dowu,  saying  lie  was  liiod,  and  lut  biulhor  iviuaiiiL'J  witli 
liiin. 

"So  much  the  botter,"  thouglit  tlic  King,  glad  to  be  quit 
of  lus  spies. 

Tavannes  niado  fun  of  tlio  two  llalians,  wlio  wcrc  then 
Icft  alono  in  the  niidst  of  porfoet  silence  in  a  plaee  where 
they  had  only  the  sky  above  thein  and  the  cats  for  listeners. 
And  the  brothers  took  advantage  of  tliis  position  to  speak  out 
thoughts  wliich  they  never  would  hâve  uttered  elsewhere — 
thoughts  suggested  by  the  incidents  of  the  evening. 

"Albert,"  said  the  Grand  Master  to  the  Marshul,  "the  King 
will  get  the  upper  liand  of  the  Queen;  we  are  doing  bad  busi- 
ness so  far  as  our  fortunes  are  concerned  by  attaching  our- 
selves  to  Catherine's.  If  we  transfer  our  services  to  tlie  King 
now,  when  he  is  seeking  some  support  against  his  mother, 
and  needs  capable  nien  to  rely  upon,  we  shall  not  be  turned 
ont  like  wild  beasts  when  the  Queen-mother  is  bauished,  im- 
prisoned,  or  killed." 

"You  will  not  get  far,  Charles,  by  that  road,"  the  Marshal 
replicd.  "You  will  follow  your  master  into  the  grave,  and 
he  has  not  long  to  live;  he  is  wrecked  by  dissipation;  Cosmo 
Euggieri  has  forctold  his  death  next  year." 

"A  dying  boar  has  often  gored  the  liunter,"  said  Charles 
de  Gondi.  "This  plot  of  the  Due  d'Alençon  with  the  King  of 
Navarre  and  the  Prince  de  Condé,  of  which  la  Mole  and 
Coconnas  are  taking  the  onus,  is  dangerous  rather  than  use- 
ful.  In  the  first  place,  the  King  of  Navarre,  whom  the 
Queen-mother  hopes  to  take  in  the  fact,  is  too  suspicions  of 
her,  and  will  hâve  nothing  to  do  with  it.  He  means  to  get 
the  benefit  of  the  conspiracy  and  run  none  of  the  risks.  And 
now,  the  last  idea  is  to  place  the  crown  on  the  head  of  the 
Duc  d'Alençon,  who  is  to  tum  Calvinist." 

"Budelone!  Doit  that  you  are,  do  not  you  see  that  this 
plot  enables  our  Queen  to  learn  what  the  Huguenots  can 
do  with  the  Duc  d'Alençon,  and  what  the  King  means  to  do 
with  the  Huguenots?  For  the  King  is  temporizing  with 
thera.  And  Catherine,  to  set  the  King  riding  on  a  wooden 
horse,  will  betray  the  plot  which  must  nullify  his  schemes." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  259 

"Ay  !"  said  Charles  de  Gondi,  "by  dint  of  taking  our  advice 
she  can  beat  us  at  our  own  game.    That  is  very  good." 

"Good  for  the  Duc  d'Anjou,  who  would  rather  be  King  of 
France  than  King  of  Poland  ;  I  am  going  to  explain  matters 
to  him." 

"  You  are  going,  Albert  ?" 

"To-morrow.  Is  it  not  my  duty  to  attend  the  King  of 
Poland  ?  I  shall  join  him  at  Venice,  where  the  Signori  hâve 
undertaken  to  amuse  him." 

"You  are  prudence  itself ." 

"Che  bestia!  I  assure  you  solemnly  that  there  is  not  the 
slightest  danger  for  either  of  us  at  Court.  If  there  were, 
should  I  leave?    I  would  stick  to  our  kind  mistress." 

"Kind!"  said  the  Grand  Master.  "She  is  the  woman  to 
drop  her  tools  if  she  finds  them  too  heavy." 

"0  cogîione!  You  call  yourself  a  soldier,  and  are  afraid 
of  death?  Every  trade  has  its  duties,  and  our  duty  is  to 
Fortune.  When  we  attach  ourselves  to  monarchs  who  are 
the  fount  of  ail  temporal  power,  and  who  protect  and  en- 
noble  and  enrich  our  familles,  we  hâve  to  give  them  such  love 
as  inflames  the  soûl  of  the  martyr  for  heaven;  when  they 
sacrifice  us  for  the  throne  we  may  perish,  for  we  die  as  much 
for  ourselves  as  for  them,  but  our  family  does  not  perish. — 
Ecco;  1  hâve  said  !" 

"You  are  quite  right,  Albert;  you  hâve  got  the  old  duchy 
of  Retz." 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  the  Duc  de  Retz.  "The  Queen  has 
great  hopes  of  the  Ruggieri  and  their  arts  to  reconcile  her  to 
her  son.  When  that  artful  youth  refused  to  hâve  anything  to 
do  with  René,  our  Queen  easily  guessed  what  her  son's  sus- 
picions were.  But  who  can  tell  what  the  King  has  in  liis 
pocket  ?  Perhaps  he  is  only  doubting  as  to  what  f  ate  he  in- 
tends for  his  mother  ;  he  hâtes  her,  you  understand  ?  He  said 
something  of  his  purpose  to  the  Queen,  and  the  Queen  talked 
of  it  to  Madame  de  Fieschi;  Madame  de  Fieschi  carried  it 
on  to  the  Queen-mother,  and  since  then  the  King  has  kept 
out  of  his  wife's  way." 


260  ABOUT  CATIIERIXF,  DK   MKDICI 

"It  was  hi!;h  tiinc ''  said  Charles  de  Gondi. 

"Wliat  to  do?"  asked  Iho  Marshal. 

"To  give  the  King  soniotliing  lo  do,"  replied  thc  Grand 
Mastor,  who,  tliough  lie  was  on  loss  intiinatc  ternis  wilh 
Catherine  thau  his  brother,  was  net  less  clear-sighted. 

"Charles,"  said  de  Retz  gravely,  "I  liave  started  on  a  splen- 
did  road;  but  if  you  want  to  be  a  Duko,  you  niust,  like  me, 
be  our  mistress'  ready  tool.  Sho  will  romain  Quecn  ;  slio  is 
the  strongest.  Madame  de  Sauves  is  slill  devoted  to  her;  and 
the  King  of  Xavarre  and  the  Duc  d'Alcneon  are  devoted  to 
Madame  de  Sauves;  Catherine  will  always  bave  them  in  lead- 
ing  strings  undcr  this  King,  as  she  will  hâve  them  under 
King  Henri  III.    Ileaven  send  he  may  not  be  ungrateful  1" 

'•Why?" 

"His  molher  docs  too  niueh  for  him." 

"Hark  !  There  is  a  noise  in  the  Rue  Saint-Honoré,"  cried 
Charles  de  Gondi.  "René's  door  is  being  locked.  Cannot 
you  hear  a  number  of  men?  They  must  hâve  taken  the 
Euggieri." 

"The  devil  !  What  a  pièce  of  prudence  !  The  King  has 
not  shown  lus  usual  impetuosity.  But  where  will  he  imprison 
them? — Let  us  see  what  is  going  on." 

The  brothers  reached  the  corner  of  the  Rue  de  l'Autruche 
at  the  moment  when  the  King  was  entering  his  mistress' 
house.  By  the  light  of  the  torches  hcld  by  the  gatekeeper 
they  recognized  Tavannes  and  the  Ruggieri. 

"Well,  Tavannes,"  the  Grand  Master  called  out  as  he  ran 
after  the  King's  companion,  who  was  making  his  way  back 
to  the  Louvre,  "what  adventures  hâve  you  had  ?" 

"We  dropped  on  a  full  council  of  wizards,  and  arrested  two 
who  are  fricnds  of  yours,  and  who  will  explain  for  the  benefit 
of  French  noblemen  by  what  means  you,  who  are  not  French- 
men,  hâve  contrived  to  clutch  two  Crown  offices,"  said  Ta- 
vannes, half  in  jest. 

"And  the  King?"  asked  the  Grand  Master,  who  was  not, 
much  disturbed  by  Tavannes'  hostility. 

"He  is  staying  with  his  mistress." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  2fll 

"We  hâve  risen  to  where  we  stand  by  tlie  most  absolute 
dévotion  to  our  masters,  a  brilliant  and  noble  career  which 
you  too  hâve  adopted,  my  dear  Duke,"  replied  the  Maréchal 
de  Retz. 

The  three  courtiers  walked  on  in  silence.  As  they  bid 
each  other  good-night,  rejoining  their  rctainers,  who  escorted 
them  home,  two  men  lightly  glided  along  the  Rue  de  l'Au- 
truche in  the  shadow  of  the  wall.  Thèse  were  the  King  and 
the  Comte  de  Solern,  who  soon  reached  the  river-bank  at  a 
spot  where  a  boat  and  rowers,  engaged  by  the  German  Count, 
were  awaiting  them.  In  a  few  minutes  they  had  reached  the 
opposite  shore. 

"My  mothep  is  not  in.  bed,"  cried  the  King,  "she  will  see 
us  ;  we  hâve  not  made  a  good  choice  of  our  meeting-place." 

"She  will  think  some  duel  is  in  the  wind,"  said  Solem. 
"And  how  is  she  to  distinguish  who  we  are  at  this  distance?" 

"Well  !  Even  if  she  sees  me  !"  cried  Charles  IX.  "I  hâve 
made  up  my  mind  now." 

The  King  and  his  friend  jumped  on  shore,  aiid  hurried 
off  towards  the  Pré  aux  Clercs.  On  arriving  there,  the  Comte 
de  Solem,  who  went  first,  parleyed  with  a  man  on  sentry, 
with  whom  he  exchanged  a  few  words,  and  who  then  withdrew 
to  a  gTOup  of  others. 

Presently  two  men,  who  seemed  to  be  princes  by  the  way  the 
outposte  saluted  them,  left  the  spot  where  they  were  in  hiding 
behind  some  broken  feneing,  and  came  to  the  Eang,  to  whom 
they  bent  the  knee;  but  Charles  IX.  raised  them  before  they 
could  touch  the  ground,  saying  : 

"Xo  ceremony  ;  hère  we  are  ail  gentlemen  together." 

Thèse  three  were  now  joined  by  a  vénérable  old  man,  who 
might  hâve  been  taken  for  the  Chancellor  de  l'Hôpital,  but 
that  he  had  died  the  year  before.  Then  ail  four  walked  on 
as  quickly  as  possible  to  reach  a  spot  where  their  conversation 
could  not  be  overheard  by  their  retainers,  and  Solern  followed 
them  at  a  little  distance  to  keep  guard  over  the  King.  This 
faithful  servant  felt  some  doubts  which  Charles  did  not  share, 
17 


l^Ja^fcl  fh  I     hlBÉ     lÉ    ■  1  I    U    -    '  -    -     -  '—    -       -^ — 


2r.2  AROUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

for  to  liiin  indood  life  was  loo  grcal  a  l)urd(Mi.  'Vhc  Count 
was  the  only  witncss  to  thc  meeting  on  tlie  King's  sidc. 

It  soon  becamc  intcresting. 

"Sire,"  said  one  of  thc  speakers,  "(lie  Conm'table  de  Mont- 
morency, the  best  friend  the  King,  your  father,  had,  and 
possessed  of  ail  his  secrets,  agreed  with  the  Marcchal  de  Saint- 
André  that  Madame  Catherine  shonld  be  sewn  up  in.  a  sack 
and  thrown  into  tlio  river.  If  tliat  had  been  donc,  niany 
good  men  wonld  be  alivc  now." 

"I  bave  exécutions  cnougli  on  my  conscience,  monsieur," 
replied  the  King. 

"Well,  Sire,"  said  tho  youngest  of  thc  four  gentlemen, 
"from  the  depths  of  exile  Queen  Catherine  would  still  manage 
to  interfère  and  find  men  to  lielp  her.  Ilave  we  not  every- 
thing  to  fear  froni  the  Guises,  who,  nine  years  since,  schemed 
for  a  monstrous  Catholic  alliance,  in  wliich  your  Majesty  is 
not  included,  and  wiiich  is  a  danger  to  the  throue?  This 
alliance  is  a  Spanish  invention — for  Spain  still  cherishes 
the  hope  of  leveling  the  Pyrénées.  Sire,  Calvinism  can  save 
France  by  erecting  a  moral  barrier  beiween  this  nation  and 
one  that  aims  at  the  empire  of  the  world.  If  the  Queen- 
mother  finds  herself  in  banishment,  she  will  throw  herself 
on  Spain  and  the  Guises." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  King,  "I  will  hâve  you  to  know 
that,  with  your  help,  and  with  peace  established  on  a  basis 
of  confidence,  I  will  undertake  to  make  every  soûl  in  the 
kingdom  quake.  By  God  and  every  sacred  relie  !  it  is  time 
that  the  Royal  authority  should  assert  ^itself.  Understand 
this  clearly;  so  far,  my  mother  is  right,  power  is  slipping 
from  your  grasp,  as  it  is  from  mine.  Your  estâtes,  your  priv- 
ilèges are  bound  to  the  throne;  when  you  hâve  allowed  re- 
ligion to  be  overthrown,  the  hands  you  are  using  as  tools 
will  tum  against  the  Monarchy  and  against  you. 

"I  hâve  had  enough  of  fighting  ideas  with  weapons  that 
cannot  touch  them.  Let  us  see  whether  Protestantism  can 
make  its  way  if  left  to  itself  ;  above  ail,  let  us  see  what  the 
Bpirit  of  that  faction  means  to  attack.     The  Admirai,  God 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  263 

be  mereiful  to  him,  was  no  enemy  of  mine.  He  swore  to  me 
that  hc  would  rostrain  the  revolt  within  the  limits  of  spiritual 
feeling,  and  in  the  temporal  kingdom  secure  mastery  to  the 
King  and  submissive  subjects.  Now,  gentlemen,  if  the  thing 
is  still  in  your  power,  set  an  example,  and  help  your  sovereign 
to  control  the  malcontents  who  are  disturbing  the  peace  of 
both  parties  alike.  War  robs  us  of  ail  our  revenue,  and  ruins 
the  country;  I  am  weary  of  this  troubled  State — so  much  so, 
that,  if  it  should  be  absolutely  necessary,  I  would  sacrifice  my 
mother.  I  would  do  more;  I  would  bave  about  me  a  like 
number  of  Catholics  and  of  Protestants,  and  I  would  hang 
Louis  XI. 's  axe  over  their  heads  to  keep  them  equal.  If 
Messieurs  de  Guise  plot  a  Holy  Alliance  which  endangers  the 
Crown,  the  executioner  shall  begin  on  them. 

"I  understand  the  griefs  of  my  people,  and  am  quite 
ready  to  eut  freely  at  the  nobles  who  bring  trouble  on  our 
country.  I  care  little  for  questions  of  conscience;  I  mean 
henceforth  to  bave  submissive  subjects  who  will  work,  under 
my  rule,  at  the  prosperity  of  the  State. 

"Gentlemen,  I  give  you  ten  days  to  treat  with  your  ad- 
hérents, to  break  up  your  plots,  and  return  to  me,  who  will 
be  a  father  to  you.  If  you  are  refractory,  you  will  see  great 
changes.  I  shall  make  use  of  smaller  men  who,  at  my  bid- 
ding,  will  rush  upon  the  great  lords.  I  will  follow  the  ex- 
ample of  a  king  who  pacified  his  realm  by  striking  down 
greater  men  than  you  are  who  dared  to  defy  him.  If  Catholic 
troops  are  wanting,  I  can  appeal  to  my  brother  of  Spain  to 
défend  a  threatened  throne;  nay,  and  if  I  need  a  Minister 
to  carry  out  my  will,  he  will  lend  me  the  Duke  of  Alva." 

"In  that  event,  Sire,  we  can  find  Germans  to  fight  your 
Spaniards,"  said  one  of  the  party. 

"I  may  remind  you,  cousin,"  said  Charles  IX.  coldly,  "that 
my  wife's  name  is  Elizabeth  of  Austria;  your  allies  on  that 
aide  might  fail  you.  But  take  my  advice;  let  us  fight  this 
alone  without  calling  in  the  foreigner.  You  are  the  object 
of  my  mother's  hatred,  and  you  care  enough  for  me  to  play 
the  part  of  second  in  my  duel  with  lier — well,  then,  listen. 


264  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE    ifEDICI 

You  staïuî  so  hi^h  in  niy  oslconi,  tlmt  1  olTcr  you  tlio  olVieo  of 
lligh  Consluble;  you  will  not  betray  us  as  thc  other  lias 
done/' 

Tlio  Priuce  thus  addrcssed  took  tlio  King's  hand  in  a 
friendly  jxrasp,  oxclainiinj^  : 

"Ciod's  \nnuls,  brothcr,  tliat  is  iiuk'cd  forgiviiig  ovil  !  But, 
Sire,  thc  liead  cannot  movc  without  the  tail,  and  our  tail 
is  hard  to  drag  aJong.  Givo  us  more  tlian  ton  days.  We 
still  ncod  at  least  a  month  to  make  the  rest  hear  reason.  By 
the  end  of  that  tinie  we  shall  be  thc  masters." 

"A  nionth,  so  bo  it;  Villeroy  is  my  only  plenipotentiary. 
Take  no  word  but  his,  whatcver  any  one  may  say." 

"One  month,"  said  the  three  other  gentlemen;  "that  will 
be  enougli  time." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  King,  "we  are  but  five,  ail  mon  of 
mettle.  If  there  is  any  trcachery,  we  shall  know  with  whom 
to  deal." 

The  three  gentlemen  left  the  King  with  every  mark  of  deep 
respect  and  kissed  his  hand. 

As  the  King  recrossed  the  Seine,  four  o'cloek  was  striking 
by  the  Louvre  clock. 

Queen  Catherine  was  still  up. 

"My  mother  is  not  gone  to  bed,"  said  Charles  to  the  Comte 
de  Solem. 

"She  too  has  her  forge,"  said  the  German. 

"My  dear  Count,  what  must  you  think  of  a  king  who  is 
reduced  to  conspiracy?"  said  Charles  IX.  bitterly,  after  a 
pause. 

"I  think,  Sire,  that  if  you  would  only  allow  me  to  throw 
that  woman  into  the  river,  as  our  young  friend  said,  France 
would  soon  be  at  peace." 

"Parricide! — and  after  Saint-Bartholomew's !"  said  the 
King.  "Xo,  no — Exile.  Once  fallen,  my  mother  would  not 
hâve  an  adhèrent  or  a  partisan." 

"Well,  then.  Sire,"  the  Count  went  on,  "allow  me  to  take 
her  into  custody  now,  at  once,  and  escort  her  beyond  the 
f routier;  for  by  to-morrow  she  will  hâve  won  you  round." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  265 

*^ell,"  said  the  King,  "come  to  my  forge  ;  no  one  can  hear 
us  there.  Besides,  I  am  anxious  that  my  mother  should  know 
nothing  of  the  arrest  of  the  Kuggieri.  If  she  knows  I  am 
within,  the  good  lady  will  suspect  nothing,  and  we  will  con- 
cert the  measures  for  arresting  her." 

When  the  King,  attended  by  Solern,  went  into  the  low 
room  which  served  as  his  workshop,  he  smiled  as  he  pointed 
to  his  forge  and  various  tools. 

"I  do  not  suppose/'  said  he,  "that  of  ail  the  kings  France 
may  ever  hâve,  there  will  be  another  with  a  taste  for  such  a 
craft.  But  when  I  am  really  King,  I  shall  not  forge  swords  ; 
they  shall  ail  be  sheathed." 

"Sire,"  said  the  Comte  de  Solcrn,  "the  fatigues  of  tennis, 
your  work  at  the  forge,  hunting,  and — may  I  say  it? — love- 
making,  are  chariots  lent  you  by  the  Devil  to  hasten  your 
journey  to  Saint-Denis." 

"Ah,  Solern  !"  said  the  King  sadly,  "if  only  you  could  feel 
the  fire  they  hâve  set  burning  in  my  heart  and  body.  Xothing 
can  slake  it. — Are  you  sure  of  the  men  who  are  guarding 
the  Ruggieri?" 

"As  sure  as  of  myself." 

"Well,  in  the  course  of  this  day  I  shall  hâve  made  up  my 
mind.  Think  out  the  means  of  acting,  and  I  will  give  you 
my  final  instructions  at  five  this  evening,  at  Madame  de 
Belleville's." 

The  first  gleams  of  daybreak  were  struggling  with  the 
lights  in  the  King's  workshop,  where  the  Comte  de  Solern 
had  left  him  alone,  when  he  heard  the  door  open  and  saw 
his  mother,  looking  like  a  ghost  in  the  gloom.  Though 
Charles  IX.  was  highly  strung  and  nervous,  he  did  not  start, 
although  under  the  circumstances  this  apparition  had  an 
ominous  and  grotesque  aspect. 

"Monsieur,"  said  she,  "you  are  killing  yourself " 

"I  am  fulfilling  my  horoscopes,"  he  retorted,  with  a  bitter 
smile.    "But  you,  madame,  are  you  as  ill  as  I  am?" 

"We  hâve  both  watched  through  the  night,  monsieur,  but 


2m  ABOUT  CATUKUINK   DK'    MKDICl 

with  vcn*  dilToront  purposo.  Whi-ii  you  wcro  selting  ont 
to  oonfor  witli  your  bittorosi  oinMiiios  in  thc.  opoii  ni^ht,  and 
hiding  it  froni  yoiir  mothor,  with  Ihc  oonnivanco  of  Tavanncs 
and  thc  Contlis,  with  wlioni  you  protonded  to  be  soouriiig  the 
town,  I  was  rcading  dispatchos  which  provc  that  a  terrible 
conspiracy  is  hatching,  in  which  your  brothcr  thc  Duc 
d'Alonçon  is  iniplicatod  with  your  brothcr-in-law,  thc  King  of 
Navarre,  the  l^rinoe  de  Condé,  and  half  the  nobility  of  your 
kingdoni.  Their  phm  is  no  less  tiian  to  snatch  the  Crown 
froin  you  by  taking  possession  of  your  person.  Thèse  gentle- 
men hâve  already  a  following  of  llfty  thousand  nien,  ail  good 
soldiers." 

"Indeed  !"  said  the  King  incredulously. 

"Your  brother  is  beconiing  a  Huguenot,"  the  Queen 
went  on. 

"My  brothcr  joining  the  Huguenots  ?"  cried  Charles,  bran- 
dishing  the  iron  bar  he  held. 

*'Yes.  The  Duc  d'Alençon,  a  Huguenot  at  hcart,  is  about 
to  déclare  himself.  Your  sister,  the  Queen  of  Navarre,  bas 
scarcely  a  tinge  of  affection  left  for  you.  She  loves  Monsieur 
le  Duc  d'Alençon,  she  loves  Bussy,  and  she  also  loves  little 
la  Mole." 

"What  a  large  heart  !"  said  the  King. 

"Little  la  Mole,  to  grow  great,"  the  Queen  went  on,  "can 
think  of  no  better  nieans  than  niaking  a  King  of  France  to 
his  mind.    Then,  it  is  said,  he  is  to  be  High  Constable." 

"That  damned  Margot  !"  cried  the  King.  "This  is  what 
cornes  of  her  marrying  a  heretic " 

"That  would  be  nothing  ;  but  then  there  is  the  head  of  the 
younger  branch,  whom  you  hâve  placed  near  the  throne 
against  ni}-  warnings,  and  who  only  wants  to  see  you  ail  kill 
each  other  !  The  House  of  Bourbon  is  the  enemy  of  the 
House  of  Valois.  Mark  this,  monsieur,  a  younger  branch 
must  always  be  kept  in  abject  poverty,  for  it  is  born  with 
the  spirit  of  conspiracy,  and  it  is  folly  ta  give  it  weapons 
when  it  bas  none,  or  to  leave  them  in  its  possession  when  it 
takes  them.     The  younger  branches  must  be  impotent  for 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  267 

mischicf — that  is  the  law  of  sovereignty,  The  sultans  of 
Asia  observe  it. 

"The  proofs  are  upstairs  in  my  closet,  whither  I  begged 
you  to  follow  me  when  we  parted  last  night,  but  you  had 
other  projects.  Within  a  month,  if  we  do  not  take  a  high 
hand,  your  fate  will  be  that  of  Charles  the  Simple." 

"Within  a  month  !"  exelaimed  Charles,  amazed  at  the 
coïncidence  of  this  period  with  the  term  fixed  by  the  princes 
that  very  night.  "In  a  month  we  shall  be  the  masters," 
thought  he  to  himself,  repeating  their  words.  "You  hâve 
proofs,  madame?"  he  asked  aloud. 

"They  are  unimpeachable,  monsieur;  they  are  supplied 
by  my  daughter  ]\Iarguerite.  Terrified  by  the  probable  out- 
come  of  such  a  coalition,  in  spite  of  her  weakness  for  your 
brother  d'Alençon,  the  throne  of  the  Valois  lay,  for  once, 
nearer  to  her  heart  than  ail  her  amours.  She  asks  indeed, 
as  the  reward  of  her  révélation,  that  la  Mole  shall  go  scot 
free;  but  that  popinjay  seems  to  me  to  be  a  rogue  we  ought 
to  get  rid  of,  as  well  as  the  Comte  de  Coconnas,  your  brother 
d'Alençon's  right-hand  man.  As  to  the  Prince  de  Condé, 
that  boy  would  agrée  to  anything  so  long  as  I  may  be  flung 
into  the  river;  I  do  not  know  if  that  is  his  idea  of  a  hand- 
some  return  on  his  wedding-day  for  the  pretty  wife  I  got 
him. 

"This  is  a  serions  matter,  monsieur.  You  spoke  of  prédic- 
tions !  I  know  of  one  which  says  that  the  Bourbons  will 
possess  the  throne  of  the  Valois;  and  if  we  do  not  take  care, 
it  will  be  fulfilled.  Do  not  be  vexed  with  your  sister,  she  bas 
acted  well  in  this  matter." 

"My  son,"  she  went  on,  after  a  pause,  with  an  assumption 
of  tenderness  in  her  tone,  "many  evil-minded  persons,  in 
the  interest  of  the  Guises,  want  to  sow  dissension  between 
you  and  me,  though  we  are  the  only  two  persons  in  the  realm 
whose  interests  are  identical.  Eeflect.  You  blâme  yourself 
now,  I  know,  for  Saint-Bartholomew's  night;  you  blâme  me 
for  persuading  you  to  it.  But  Catholicism,  monsieur,  ought 
to  be  the  bond  of  Spain,  France,  and  Italy,  three  nations 


208  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

whioh  bv  a  soorctly  and  skilfully  workcd  schomc  may,  in  tho 
course  of  tinu\  bo  nnitod  undor  tho  llouso  of  V^alois.  Do  iiot 
forfoit  your  clianoos  by  Icttinjx  tho  cord  slip  which  includcs 
thopo  throo  kin;::(b>iiis  in  tho  pnlo  of  tho  sanic  faith. 

"Why  should  not  tlie  Valois  and  tho  Modici  carry  ont,  to 
their  grcat  glory,  the  projcct  of  Charles  V.,  who  lost  hia  hcad? 
Let  thosc  descendants  of  .laiic  iho  Crazy  pcoplo  Ww  iiow 
world  which  thoy  are  grasping  at.  Tho  Mcdici,  niastcrs  of 
Florence  and  Iionie,  will  subdue  Italy  to  your  rule;  thoy  will 
secure  ail  its  advantagcs  by  a  treaty  of  coinniorce  and  alliance, 
and  recognize  you  as  their  licgc  lord  for  the  fu^fs  of  Piodinont, 
the  Milanese,  and  Naples  over  which  you  bave  rights.  Thèse, 
monsieur,  are  the  reasons  for  the  war  to'thc  death  we  are 
waging  with  the  Huguenots.  Why  do  you  compel  us  to  repeat 
thèse  things? 

"Charlemagne  made  a  mistake  wlien  lie  pushed  northwards. 
France  is  a  body  of  which  the  heart  is  on  the  Guif  of  Lyons, 
and  whose  two  arms  are  Spain  and  Italy.  Thus  we  should 
command  the  Meditcrrancan,  which  is  like  a  basket  into 
which  ail  the  wcalth  of  the  East  is  poured  to  the  benefit  of 
the  Venetians  now,  in  the  teeth  of  Philip  II. 

"And  if  the  friendship  of  the  Medici  and  your  inhcrited 
rights  can  thus  entitle  you  to  hope  for  Italy,  force,  or  alliance, 
or  perhaps  inheritance,  may  give  you  Spain.  There  you  must 
step  in  beforo  the  ambitions  Ilouse  of  Austria,  to  whom  the 
Guelphs  would  bave  sold  Italy,  and  who  still  drcam  of  pos- 
sessing  Spain.  Though  your  wife  is  a  daughter  of  that  line, 
humble  Austria,  hug  her  closely  to  stifle  her  !  There  lie  the 
enemics  of  your  dominion,  since  from  thence  comes  aid  for 
the  Reformers. — Do  not  listen  to  men  who  would  profit  by  our 
disagreement,  and  who  fill  your  head  with  trouble  by  repre- 
senting  me  as  your  chief  enemy  at  home.  Hâve  I  hindered 
you  from  having  an  heir?  Is  it  my  fault  that  your  mistress 
has  a  son  and  your  wife  only  a  daughter  ?  Why  hâve  you  not 
by  this  time  three  sons,  who  would  eut  off  ail  this  sédition  at 
the  root? — Is  it  my  part,  monsieur,  to  reply  to  thèse  ques- 
tions ?  If  you  had  a  son,  would  Monsieur  d'Alençon  conspire 
against  you  ?" 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  269 

As  she  spoke  thèse, words,  Catherine  fîxed  her  eyes  on 
Charles  IX.  with  the  fascinating  gaze  of  a  bird  of  prey  on 
its  victim.  The  daiighter  of  the  Medici  was  beaiitiful  in  her 
way;  her  real  feelings  illumined  her  face,  which,  like  that 
of  a  gambler  at  the  green-table,  was  radiant  with  ambitions 
greed.  Charles  IX.  saw  her  no  longer  as  the  mother  of  one 
man,  but,  as  she  had  been  called,  the  mother  of  armies  and 
empires  (mater  castrorum).  Catherine  had  spread  the 
pinions  of  her  genius,  and  was  boldly  soating  in  the  realm 
of  high  politics  of  the  Medici  and  the  Valois,  sketching  the 
vast  plans  which  had  frightened  Henri  IL,  and  which,  trans- 
mitted  by  the  Medici  to  Richelieu,  were  stored  in  the  Cabinet 
of  the  House  of  Bourbon.  But  Charles  IX.,  seeing  his  mother 
take  so  many  précautions,  supposed  them  to  be  necessary, 
and  wondered  to  what  end  she  was  taking  them.  He  looked 
down;  he  hesitated;  his  distrust  was  not  to  be  dispelled  by 
words. 

Catherine  was  astonished  to  see  what  deeply  founded  sus- 
picion lurked  in  her  son's  heart. 

"Well,  monsieur,"  she  went  on,  "do  you  not  choose  to  un- 
derstand  me?  What  are  we,  you  and  I,  compared  with  the 
eternity  of  a  royal  Crown?  Do  you  suspect  me  of  any  pur- 
poses  but  those  which  must  agitate  us  who  dwell  in  the  sphère 
whence  empires  are  governed?" 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "I  will  follow  you  to  your  closet — ^we 
must  act " 

"Act  ?"  cried  Catherine.  "Let  them  go  their  way  and  take 
them  in  the  act;  the  law  will  rid  you  of  them.  For  God's 
sake,  monsieur,  let  them  see  us  smiling." 

The  Queen  withdrew.  The  King  alone  remained  standing 
for  a  minute,  for  he  had  sunk  into  extrême  déjection. 

"On  which  side  are  the  snares?"  he  said  aloud.  "Is  it  she 
who  is  deceiving  me,  or  they?  What  is  the  better  policy? 
Deus!  discerne  causant  meam"  he  cried,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes.  "Life  is  a  burden  to  me.  Whether  natural  or  com- 
pulsory,  I  would  rather  meet  death  than  thèse  contradictory 
torments,"  he  added,  and  he  struck  the  hammer  on  his  anvil 


270  AROIIT  CATRERlNEkE/   MEDTCI 

i 
with  siich  violence  tliat  the  vaults  of  tho  Tx)U\Te  qunked. 
"(îront  (Joil  !"  lie  cxolaiined,  goinj;  ont  nml  lookin<];  up  at 
the  sky.  '"riiou  for  wliose  holy  religion  1  ani  warrin«j;,  give 
nie  tiie  elearness  of  Thine  eyes  to  sec  into  niv  niother's  heart 
by  questioning  the  Kuggieri." 

The  littlc  housc  inhahited  liy  llic  Lady  of  Rellcville,  whorc 
Charles  had  Icft  his  prisoners,  was  the  last  but  ono  in  the 
Hue  de  rAiitniehe,  near  tlio  Une  Sniiil-Honoré.  The  strcct- 
gate,  giiarded  by  two  little  lodge?  buiJt  of  brick,  looked  vcry 
plain  at  a  tinic  when  gâtes  and  ail  thoir  accessories  wcre  so 
elaborately,  treatcd.  The  entrance  consisted  of  two  stone 
pillars,  dianiond-ciit,  and  the  architrave  was  graccd  with  the 
reclining  figure  of  a  woman  holding  a  cornucopia.  Tho  gâte, 
of  tiniber  covercd  with  heavy  iron  scroll-work,  had  a  wicket 
peephole  at  the  level  of  tho  eyc  for  spying  any  one  who  de- 
sired  admittance.  In  each  lodge  a  porter  livcd,  and  Charles' 
caprice  insisted  that  a  gatekeeper  should  be  on  the  watch  day 
and  night. 

There  was  a  little  courtyard  in  front  of  the  house  paved 
with  Venetian  niosaic.  At  that  tiine,  when  carriages  had  not 
been  invented,  and  ladies  rode  on  horseback  or  in  litters,  the 
courtyards  could  be  splendid  with  no  fear  of  injury  from 
horses  or  vehicles.  We  must  constantly  bear  thèse  facts  in 
mind  to  understand  the  narrowness  of  the  streets,  the  small 
extent  of  the  fo recourts,  and  varions  other  détails  of  the 
dwellings  of  the  fifteenth  century. 

Tlie  house,  of  one  story  above  the  ground  floor,  had  at  the 
top  a  sculptured  frieze,  on  which  rested  a  roof  sloping  up 
from  ail  the  four  sides  to  a  flat  space  at  the  top.  The  sides 
were  pierced  by  dormer-windows  adorncd  with  architraves 
and  side-posts,  which  some  grcat  artist  had  chiscled  into  déli- 
cate arabesques.  Ail  the  three  Windows  of  the  first-floor 
rooms  were  equally  conspicuous  for  this  embroidery  in  stone, 
thrown  into  relief  by  the  red-brick  walls.  On  the  ground 
floor  a  double  flight  of  outside  steps,  elcgantly  sculptured — the 
balcony  being  remarkable  for  a  true  lovers'  knot — led  to  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  271 

house  door,  decorated  in  the  Yenetian  style  with  stone  eut 
into  pointed  lozenges,  a  form  of  ornament  that  was  repcated 
on  the  window-jambs  on  each  side  of  the  door. 

A  garden  laid  ont  in  the  fashion  of  the  time,  and  full  of 
rare  tlowers,  occupicd  a  space  bchind  the  house  of  equal  ex- 
tent  with  the  forccourt.  A  viue  liung  ovcr  the  walls.  A 
silver  pine  stood  in  the  centre  of  a  grass  plot  ;  the  flower  bor- 
ders  were  divided  froni  the  turf  by  winding  paths  leading  to 
a  little  bower  of  clipped  yews  at  the  further  end.  The  garden 
walls,  covered  with  a  coarsc  niosaic  of  colorcd  pebbles,  pleased 
the  e3'e  by  a  richness  of  color  that  harraonizcd  with  the  hues 
of  the  flowers.  The  garden  front  of  the  house,  like  the  front 
to  the  court,  had  a  pretty  balcony  from  the  middle  window 
over  the  door;  and  on  both  façades  alike  the  architectural 
treatment  of  this  middle  window  was  carried  up  to  the  f  rieze 
of  the  cornice,  with  a  bow  that  gave  it  the  appearance  of  a 
lantern.  The  sills  of  the  other  Windows  were  inlaid  with  fine 
marbles  let  into  the  stone. 

N'otwithstanding  the  perfect  taste  évident  in  this  building, 
it  had  a  look  of  gloom.  It  was  shut  out  from  the  open  day  by 
neighboring  houses  and  the  roofs  of  the  Hôtel  d'Alençon, 
which  cast  their  shadow  over  the  courtyard  and  garden; 
then  absolute  silence  prevailed.  Still,  this  silence,  this  sub- 
dued  light,  this  solitude,  were  restful  to  a  soûl  that  could  give 
itself  up  to  a  single  thought,  as  in  a  cloister  where  we  may 
meditate,  or  in  a  snug  home  where  we  may  love. 

Who  can  fail  now  to  conceive  of  the  interior  élégance  of 
this  dwelling,  the  only  spot  in  ail  his  kingdom  where  the 
last  Valois  but  one  could  pour  out  his  heart,  confess  his  suf- 
f erings,  give  play  to  his  taste  for  the  arts,  and  enjoy  the 
poetry  he  loved — pleasures  denied  him  by  the  cares  of  his 
most  pondérons  royalty.  There  alone  were  his  lofty  soûl 
and  superior  qualities  appreciated;  there  alone,  for  a  few 
brief  months,  the  last  of  his  life,  could  he  know  the  joys  of 
fatherhood,  to  which  he  abandoned  himself  with  the  frenzy 
which  his  presentiment  of  an  imminent  and  terrible  death 
lent  to  ail  his  actions. 


Jll-M- 


272  ABOUT  CATTIKUlNi:   Dir   Mi:i>lCI 

lu  tho  aftornoon  of  this  day,  Marie  was  finishiiif];  hcr  toilot 
in  lier  oratorv — thc  ladies'  boudoir  of  thaï  tiino.  Shc  was 
arrancrinjX  <^u^  ourls  of  hcr  fnio  black  hair,  so  as  to  loavc  a 
fcw  locks  to  tiirn  ovor  a  iiow  volvot  coif,  and  was  looking  at- 
tcntivcly  at  hcrsolf  in  tho  mirror. 

"It  is  ncarly  four  o'clock  !  Thaï  intorniinablo  Council 
niust  ho  at  an  oml  liv  now,"  snid  slu^  to  hcrsolf.  "Jacob  is 
back  froni  tho  Louvre,  whorc  thcy  arc  grcally  distnrl^cd  liy 
rcason  of  thc  numbor  of  councillors  convcned,  and  by  tlie 
duration  of  tlio  sitting.  What  can  bave  happcncd,  somc  dis- 
aster? Dear  Ilcaven  !  docs  hc  know  liow  thc  spirit  is  worn 
by  waiting  in  vain?  IIo  is  gone  hunting,  perhaps.  If  he  is 
amused,  ail  is  well.  If  I  soe  hiin  happy,  I  sliall  forgct  my 
sorrows " 

Shc  pullcd  down  hcr  bodicc  round  hcr  waist,  thaï  there 
might  not  bc  a  wrinklc  in  it,  and  turncd  to  sce  how  hcr  drcss 
fitted  in  profile;  but  then  shc  saw  the  King  reclining  on  a 
couch.  The  carpeted  floors  deadcncd  the  sound  of  footsteps 
Bo  efîectually,  that  he  had  corne  in  without  bcing  heard. 

"You  startlcd  me,"  she  said,  with  a  cry  of  surprise,  which 
ehe  instantly  checked. 

"You  wcre  thinking  of  me,  then?"  said  the  King. 

"When  am  I  not  thinking  of  you  ?"  she  asked  him,  sitting 
down  by  his  side. 

She  took  off  his  cap  and  cloak,  and  passed  her  hands 
through  his  hair  as  if  to  comb  it  with  her  fmgers.  Charles 
submitted  without  speaking.  Marie  knelt  down  to  study  her 
royal  Master's  pale  face,  and  discemed  in  it  the  lines  of 
terrible  fatigue  and  of  a  more  devouring  mclancholy  than 
any  she  had  ever  been  able  to  scare  away.  Shc  checked  a 
tear,  and  kept  silence,  not  to  irritate  a  grief  she  as  yet  knew 
nothing  of  by  some  ill-chosen  word.  She  did  what  tender 
wives  do  in  sueh  cases  ;  she  kissed  the  brow  seamed  with  pre- 
cocious  wrinkles  and  the  hollow  cheeks,  trying  to  breathe  the 
freshness  of  her  own  spirit  into  that  careworn  soûl  through 
its  infusion  into  gentle  caresses,  which,  however,  had  no  ef- 
fect.    She  raised  her  head  to  the  level  of  the  King's,  embrac- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  273 

ing  him  fondly  with  her  slcndcr  arms,  and  then  laid  her 
face  on  his  laboring  breast,  vvaitiug  l'or  tlie  opportune  moment 
to  question  the  stricken  nian. 

"My  Chariot,  will  you  not  tell  your  poor,  anxious  friend 
what  are  the  thoughts  that  darken  your  brow  and  take  the 
color  from  your  dear,  red  lips?'' 

"With  the  exception  of  Charlemagne,"  said  he,  in  a  dull, 
hollow  voice,  "every  King  of  France  of  the  name  of  Charles 
has  corne  to  a  misérable  end." 

"Pooh  !"  said  she.    "What  of  Charles  VIII.  ?" 

"In  the  prime  of  life,"  replied  the  King,  "the  poor  man 
knocked  his  head  against  a  low  doorway  in  the  château  d'Am- 
boise,  which  he  was  decorating  splendidly,  and  he  died  in 
dreadful  pain.    His  death  gave  the  Crown  to  our  branch." 

"Charles  VII.  reconquered  his  kingdom." 

"Child,  he  died" — and  the  King  lowered  his  voice — "of 
starvation,  in  the  dread  of  being  poisoned  by  the  Dauphin, 
who  had  already  caused  the  death  of  his  fair  Agnes.  The 
f ather  dreaded  his  son.    ISTow,  the  son  dreads  his  mother  !" 

"Why  look  back  on  the  past?"  said  she,  remembering  the 
terrible  existence  of  Charles  VI. 

"Why  not,  dear  heart?  Kings  need  not  bave  recourse  to 
diviners  to  read  the  fate  that  awaits  them;  they  bave  only 
to  study  history.  I  am  at  this  time  engaged  in  trying  to 
escape  the  fate  of  Charles  the  Simple,  who  was  bereft  of  his 
crown,  and  died  in  prison  after  seven  years'  captivity." 

"Charles  V.  drove  out  the  English!"  she  cried  triumph- 
antly. 

"Not  he,  but  du  Guesclin;  for  he,  poisoned  by  Charles  of 
Navarre,  languished  in  sickness." 

"But  Charles  IV.  ?"  said  she. 

"He  married  three  times  and  had  no  heir,  in  spite  of  the 
masculine  beauty  that  distinguished  the  sons  of  Philip  the 
Handsome.  The  first  Valois  dynasty  ended  in  him.  The 
second  Valois  will  end  in  the  same  way.  The  Queen 
has  only  brought  me  a  daughter,  and  I  shall  die  without  leav- 
ing  any  child  to  come,  for  a  minority  would  be  the  greatest 


274  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI 

niisfortuno  that  could  bofall  (lu-  kingdoin.  Besicles,  if  I  had 
a  son,  would  he  live? — Charles  is  a  naine  of  ill-omen,  Charle- 
magne  exhausted  ail  the  liick  atlending  it.  If  I  could  be 
King  of  Friuice  agaiu,  1  would  not  be  called  Charles  X." 

*'\Vho  then  ainis  at  your  orown?" 

"My  brother  d'Alençon  is  plolting  against  me.  I  sec  ene- 
niies  ou  every  side " 

"Monsieur,"  said  ^larir,  with  an  irrésistible  pout.  "Tell 
me  some  merrier  taies." 

"My  dearest  treasure,"  said  the  King  vehomently,  "never 
call  me  Monsieur,  even  in  jest.  You  remind  mo  of  my  mother, 
who  incessantly  olleuds  nie  witli  that  wurd.  1  feel  as  if  she 
deprived  me  of  my  crown.  Slie  says  'My  son'  to  the  Duc 
d'Anjou,  that  is  to  say,  the  King  of  Poland." 

"Sire,"  said  Marie,  folding  her  hands  as  if  in  prayer, 
"there  is  a  realm  where  you  are  adored,  which  your  Majesty 
fiUs  entirely  witli  glory  and  strength;  and  there  the  word 
Monsieur  means  my  gentle  lord." 

She  unclaspod  her  hands,  and  with  a  pretty  action  pointed 
to  her  heart.  The  words  were  so  sweetly  musical — musiquées, 
to  use  an  expression  of  the  period,  applied  to  love  songs — that 
Charles  took  Marie  by  the  waist,  raised  her  with  the  strength 
for  which  he  was  noted,  seated  her  on  his  knce,  and  gently 
rubbed  his  forehead  against  the  curls  his  mistress  had  ar- 
ranged  with  such  care. 

Marie  thought  this  a  favorable  moment;  she  ventured  on 
a  kiss  or  two,  which  Charles  allowed  rather  than  accepted; 
then,  betwecn  two  kisses,  she  said  : 

"If  my  people  told  the  truth,  you  were  scouring  Paris  ail 
night,  as  in  the  days  when  you  played  the  scapegrace  younger 
son?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  King,  who  sat  lost  in  thought. 

"Did  not  you  thrash  the  watch  and  rob  certain  good  citi- 
zens? — And  who  are  the  men  placed  under  my  guard,  and 
who  are  such  criminals  that  you  hâve  forbidden  ail  communi- 
cation with  them  ?  No  girl  was  ever  barred  in  with  greater 
severity  than  thèse  men,  who  hâve  had  neither  food  nor  drink. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  275 

Solern's  Germans  hâve  not  allowed  any  one  to  go  near  the 
room  where  you  lef t  them.  Is  it  a  joke  ?  Or  is  it  a  serious 
matter?'' 

"Yes,"  said  the  King,  rousing  himself  from  his  rêverie, 
"last  night  I  went  seanipering  over  the  roofs  with  Tavannes 
and  the  Gondis.  I  wanted  to  hâve  the  company  of  my  old 
comrades  in  folly.  But  oiir  legs  are  not  what  they  were; 
we  did  not  dare  jump  across  the  streets.  However,  we  crossed 
two  courtyards  by  leaping  from  roof  to  roof.  The  last  time, 
however,  when  we  alighted  on  a  gable  close  by  this,  as  we 
clung  to  the  bar  of  a  chininey,  we  decided,  Tavannes  and  I, 
that  we  eould  not  do  it  again.  If  either  of  us  had  been  alone, 
he  would  not  hâve  tried  it." 

"You  were  the  first  to  jump,  I  will  wager." 

The  King  smiled. 

"I  know  why  you  risk  your  life  so.'* 

"Hah,  fair  sorceress  !" 

"You  are  weary  of  life." 

"Begone  with  witchcraft  !  I  am  haunted  by  it  !"  said  the 
King,  grave  once  more. 

"My  witchcraft  is  love,"  said  she,  with  a  smile.  "Since 
the  happy  day  when  you  fîrst  loved  me,  hâve  I  not  always 
guessed  your  thoughts?  And  if  you  will  suffer  me  to  say 
so,  the  thoughts  that  torment  you  to-day  are  not  worthy  of  a 
King." 

"Am  I  a  King?"  said  he  bitterly. 

"Can  you  not  be  King?  What  did  Charles  VII.  do,  whose 
name  you  bear?  He  listened  to  his  mistress,  my  lord,  and 
he  won  back  his  kingdom,  whieh  was  invaded  by  the  English 
then  as  it  is  now  by  the  adhérents  of  the  New  Religion.  Your 
last  act  of  State  opened  the  road  you  must  follow:  Exter- 
minate  heresy." 

"You  used  to  blâme  the  stratagem,"  said  Charles,  "and 
now " 

"It  is  accomplished,"  she  put  in.  "Besides,  I  am  of  Mad- 
ame Catherine's  opinion.  It  was  better  to  do  it  yourself  than 
to  leave  it  to  the  Guises." 


270  AROUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 

"Charles  \\\.  IkuI  onl y  lucii  to  fi^Iit  aj^ainst,  and  I  hâve 
to  battlo  with  idoas,"  the  King  weiit  on.  "You  inay  kill  men; 
yoii  oannot  kill  words  !  The  Eiiii)oror  Charles  V.  gave  up 
the  task  ;  his  son.  Don  Philip,  is  sjjending  hiniself  in  the  at- 
tenipt.  We  shall  die  of  it,  we  kings.  On  whoui  can  I  dé- 
pend? On  niy  right,  with  the  Catholics  I  find  the  Guisca 
threalening  nie;  on  niy  left,  the  Calvinists  will  never  forgive 
the  death  of  my  poor  Father  Coligny,  nor  the  blood-letting 
of  August  ;  besides,  they  want  to  be  rid  of  us  altogether.  And 
in  front  of  me,  my  mother " 

"Arrest  lier;  reign  alone,"  said  Marie,  whispering  in  hia 


ear. 

Il 


I  wanted  to  do  so  yestcrday — but  I  do  not  to-day.  You 
spcak  of  it  lightly  enough." 

"Thcre  is  no  sueh  great  distance  between  the  daughter 
of  an  apothecary  and  the  daughter  of  a  leech,"  said  Marie 
Touchet,  who  would  often  laugh  at  the  parentage  falsely 
given  lier. 

The  King  knit  his  brows. 

"Marie,  take  no  liberties.  Catherine  de'  Medici  la  my 
mother,  and  you  ought  to  tremble  at " 

"But  what  are  you  afraid  of  ?" 

"Poison  !"  cried  the  King,  beside  himself. 

"Poor  boy  !"  said  Marie,  swallowing  her  tears,  for  so  much 
strength  united  to  so  much  weakness  moved  her  deeply. 
"Oh  !"  she  went  on,  "how  you  make  me  hâte  Madame  Cath- 
erine, who  used  to  seem  so  kind;  but  her  kindness  seems  to 
be  nothing  but  perfidy.  Why  does  she  do  me  so  much  good 
and  you  so  much  evil?  While  I  "was  away  in  Dauphiné  I 
heard  a  great  many  things  about  the  beginning  of  your  reign 
which  you  had  concealed  from  me;  and  the  Queen  your 
mother  seems  to  hâve  been  the  cause  of  ail  your  misfortunes." 

"How?"  said  the  King,  with  eager  interest. 

'^omen  whose  soûl  and  intentions  are  pure  rule  the  men 
they  love  through  their  virtues  ;  but  women  who  do  not  truly 
"wish  them  well  find  a  motive  power  in  their  evil  inclinations. 
New  the  Queen  has  turned  many  fine  qnalities  in  you  into 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  277 

vices,  and  raade  you  believe  that  your  bad  ones  werc  virtues, 
Was  that  acting  a  mother's  part  ? — Be  a  tyrant  like  Louis  XI., 
make  everybody  dreadfully  afraid  of  you,  imitate  Don  Philip, 
banish  the  Italians,  hunt  out  the  Guises,  and  confiscate  the 
estâtes  of  tho  Calvinists;  you  will  rise  to  stand  in  solitude, 
and  you  will  save  the  Crown.  The  moment  is  favorable  ;  your 
brother  is  in  Poland." 

"We  are  two  infants  in  politics,"  said  Charles  bitterly. 
*^e  only  know  how  to  love.  Alas  !  dear  heart,  yesterday  I 
could  think  of  ail  this;  I  longed  to  achieve  great  things. 
Puff  !  my  mother  has  blown  down  my  house  of  cards.  From 
afar  difficulties  stand  out  as  clearly  as  niountain  peaks,  I 
say  to  myself,  'I  will  put  an  end  to  Calvinism  ;  I  will  bring 
Messieurs  de  Guise  to  their  sensés  ;  I  will  eut  adrif t  from  the 
Court  of  Rome  ;  I  will  rely  wholly  on  the  people  of  the  middle 
elass;'  in  short,  at  a  distance  everything  looks  easy,  but  when 
we  try  to  climb  the  mountains,  the  nearer  we  get,  the  more 
obstacles  we  discem. 

"Calvinism  in  itself  is  the  last  thing  the  party-leaders  care 
about;  and  the  Guises,  those  frenzied  Catholics,  would  be  in 
despair  if  the  Calvinists  were  really  exterminated.  Every 
man  thinks  of  his  own  interests  before  ail  else,  and  religions 
opinions  are  but  a  screen  for  insatiable  ambition.  Charles 
IX. 's  party  is  the  weakest  of  aJl;  those  of  the  King  of  Na- 
varre, of  the  King  of  Poland,  of  the  Duc  d'Alençon,  of  the 
Condés,  of  the  Guises,  of  my  mother,  form  coalitions  against 
each  other,  leaving  me  alone  even  in  the  Council  Chamber. 
In  the  midst  of  so  many  éléments  of  disturbanee  my  mother 
is  the  stronger,  and  she  has  just  shown  me  that  my  plans  are 
inane.  We  are  surrounded  by  men  who  defy  the  law.  The 
axe  of  Louis  XL  of  which  you  speak  is  not  in  our  grasp.  The 
Parlement  would  never  sentence  the  Guises,  nor  the  King 
of  Navarre,  nor  the  Condés,  nor  my  brothers.  It  would  think 
it  was  setting  the  kingdom  in  a  blaze.  What  is  wanted  is  the 
courage  to  command  murder;  the  throne  must  come  to  that, 
with  thèse  insolent  wretches  who  hâve  nullified  justice;  but 

where  can  I  find  faithful  hands?    The  Council  I  held  this 
i8 


278  AHOT'T  (\\T1T1":UI  XI";  DE'   MKDICI 

iiun-niiif:^  ilisguslcHl  me  wiih  cvcnlhing — treachcry  on  nll 
sides,  anlagoiiistie  intoresls  everywlirri'! 

"1  uni  tirod  of  wearing  the  t'rowii  ;  al!  I  ask  is  to  die  in 
peacc." 

And  ho  sank  into  gloomy  somnolence. 

"Disgusted  with  everything!"  cchocd  Marie  Touchet  sadly, 
but  respect ing  her  lovcr's  heavy  torpor. 

Charles  was,  in  fact,  a  prey  to  utter  prostration  of  mind 
and  body,  resulting  from  over-falignc  of  evory  faculty,  and 
cnlianced  by  the  déjection  caused  by  tlic  vast  scale  of  bis  mis- 
fortunes  and  the  évident  impossihility  of  overcoming  them 
in  the  face  of  surh  n  inulti]ilicily  of  difllcultios  as  genius  it- 
self  takes  alarm  at.  The  King's  dépression  was  proportionate 
to  the  height  to  which  bis  courace  and  bis  ideas  bad  soared 
during  the  last  fcw  months;  and  now  a  fit  of  nervous  mclan- 
cboly,  part,  in  fact,  of  bis  nuilady,  bad  corne  over  him  as  he 
left  the  long  sitting  of  the  Council  he  had  held  in  bis  closet. 
Marie  saw  that  he  was  sufïering  from  a  crisis  when  everything 
is  irritating  and  importunate — even  love  ;  so  she  remained  on 
her  knees,  her  head  in  the  King's  lap  as  he  sat  with  his  fingers 
buried  in  her  bair  without  moving,  without  speaking,  with- 
ous  sighing,  and  she  was  equally  still.  Charles  IX.  was  sunk 
in  the  lethargy  of  belplessness  ;  and  Marie,  in  the  dark  despair 
of  a  loving  woman,  wbo  eau  sec  the  border-line  ahead  wbere 
love  must  end. 

Thus  the  levers  sat  for  some  little  time  in  perfect  silence, 
in  the  mood  when  every  thought  is  a  wound,  when  the  clouds 
of  a  mental  storm  bide  even  the  remembrance  of  past  happi- 
ness, 

Marie  believed  herself  to  be  in  some  sort  to  blâme  for  tbis 
terrible  déjection.  She  wondered,  not  without  alarm,  wbether 
tbo  King's  extravagant  joy  at  welcoming  her  back,  and  the 
véhément  passion  she  could  not  contend  with,  were  not  belp- 
ing  to  wreck  his  mind  and  frame.  As  she  looked  up  at  her 
lover,  her  eyes  streaming  with  tears  that  bathed  her  face, 
she  saw  tears  in  his  eyes  too  and  on  his  colorless  cheeks.  Tbis 
sympathy,  uniting  them  even  in  sorrow,  touched  Charles  IX. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  279 

BO  deeply,  that  he  started  up  like  a  horse  that  feels  tlie  spur. 
He  put  his  arra  round  Marie's  waist,  and  before  she  knew 
what  he  was  doing  liad  drawn  lier  down  on  the  couch. 

"I  will  bo  King  no  more  !"  he  said.  "I  will  be  nothing 
but  your  lover,  and  forget  everything  in  that  joy.  I  will  die 
happy,  and  not  eaten  up  with  the  eares  of  a  throne." 

The  tone  in  which  he  spoke,  the  fire  that  blazed  in  eyes, 
just  now  so  dull,  instead  of  pleasing  Marie,  gave  lier  a  terrible 
pang;  at  that  moment  she  blamed  her  love  for  contributing 
to  the  illness  of  which  the  King  was  dying. 

"You  forget  your  prisoners/'  said  she,  starting  up  aud- 
denly. 

"What  do  I  care  about  the  men?  They  hâve  my  permis- 
sion to  kill  me." 

'^hat  ?    Assassins  !"  said  she. 

"Do  not  be  uneasy,  we  hâve  them  safe,  dear  child. — Now, 
think  not  of  them,  but  of  me.    Say,  do  you  not  love  me?" 

"Sire  !"  she  cried. 

"Sire  !"  he  repeated,  flashing  sparks  from  his  eyes,  so  vio- 
lent was  his  first  surge  of  fury  at  his  mistress'  ill-timed  défér- 
ence.   "You  are  in  collusion  with  my  mother." 

"Great  God  !"  cried  Marie,  turning  to  the  picture  over 
her  praying-chair,  and  trying  to  get  to  it  to  put  up  a  prayer. 
"Oh  !  make  him  understand  me  !" 

"What  !"  said  the  King  sternly.  "Hâve  you  any  sin  on 
your  soûl  ?" 

And  still  holding  her  in  his  arms,  he  looked  deep  into  her 
eyes.  "I  hâve  heard  of  the  mad  passion  of  one  d'Entragues 
for  you,"  he  went  on,  looking  wildly  at  her,  "and  since  their 
grandfather  Capitaine  Balzac  married  a  Visconti  of  Milan, 
those  rascals  hesitate  at  nothing." 

Marie  gave  the  King  such  a  look  of  pride  that  he  was 
ashamed.  Just  then  the  cry  was  heard  of  the  infant  Charles 
de  Valois  from  the  adjoining  room  ;  he  was  just  awake,  and 
his  nurse  was  no  doubt  bringing  him  to  his  mother. 

"Corne  in,  la  Bourguignonne,"  said  Marie,  taking  the  child 
from  his  nurse  and  bringing  him  to  the  King.     *^ou  are 


280  AROUT  CATIIEUINK   DK*   MEHICI 

more  of  a  ohilil   tlian   lu\"  t^ho  said,  half  angry,  but   lialf 

plOiU>iOcl. 

"Ile  is  a  lino  boy,"  eaiJ  Cbarles  IX.,  taking  his  son  in  bis 
arms. 

*'No  one  but  me  cjui  know  how  like  you  he  is,"  suid  Marie. 
"Ile  bas  your  smile  and  ways  already." 

"Wbat,  so  yoiing?"  said  tbo  King,  smiling. 

"Mon  will  never  boliove  sucb  Ibings,"  said  sbe;  "but  look, 
my  Cbarlot,  j)hiy  witb  bini,  look  at  bini — uow,  am  I  not 
rigbt  ?" 

"It  is  true,"  said  tbe  King,  startled  by  a  movement  on  tbe 
infant's  part,  wbieh  struck  him  as  the  miniature  reproduction 
of  a  trick  of  liis  own. 

"Protty  flower!"  said  liis  motber.  "He  will  never  go  away 
from  me;  be  will  never  make  me  unbappy." 

The  King  played  with  the  cbild,  tossing  it,  kissing  it  with 
entire  dévotion,  speaking  to  it  in  those  vague  and  foolish 
words,  the  onomatopœia  of  mothers  and  nurses;  his  voice  waa 
childlike,  his  brow  cleared,  joy  came  back  to  his  saddened 
eountenance;  and  whcn  Mario  saw  that  her  lover  had  for- 
gotten.  everything,  she  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  and 
whispered  in  his  ear: 

"Will  not  you  tell  me,  my  Chariot,  why  you  put  assassins 
in  my  kecping,  and  who  thèse  mon  are,  and  what  you  intend 
to  do  with  them?  And  whither  were  you  going  across  the 
roofs  ?    I  hope  there  was  no  woman  in  the  case." 

"Then  you  still  love  me  so  well?"  said  the  King,  caught  by 
the  bright  flash  of  one  of  those  questioning  looks  which 
women  can  give  at  a  critical  moment. 

'TTou  could  doubt  me,"  replied  she,  as  the  tears  gathered 
under  her  beautiful  girlish  eyelids. 

"There  are  women  in  my  adventure,  but  they  are  witches. 
Where  was  I?" 

"We  were  quite  near  hère,  on  the  gable  of  a  house,"  said 
Marie.    "In  what  street  ?" 

"In  the  Rue  Saint-Honoré,  my  Jewel,"  said  the  King,  who 
seemed  to  hâve  recovered  himself,  and  who,  as  he  recalled  his 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  281 

ideas,  wanted  to  give  his  mistress  some  notion  of  the  scène 
that  was  about  to  take  place  hère.  "As  I  crossed  it  in  pur- 
suit  of  some  sport,  my  eyes  were  attracted  by  a  bright  light 
in  a  top  window  of  the  house  inhabitcd  by  René,  my  mother's 
perfumer  and  glover — yours  too,  the  whole  Court's.  I  hâve 
strong  suspicions  as  to  what  goes  on  in  that  man's  house,  and 
if  I  am  poisoned  that  is  where  the  poison  is  prepared." 

"I  give  him  up  to-morrow,"  said  Marie. 

"What,  you  hâve  still  dealt  with  him  since  I  left  him?" 
said  the  King.  "My  life  was  hère,"  he  added  gloomily,  "and 
hère  no  doubt  they  hâve  arranged  for  my  death." 

"But,  my  dear  boy,  I  hâve  but  just  corne  home  from  Dau- 
phiné  with  our  Dauphin,"  said  she,  with  a  smile,  "and  I 
hâve  bought  nothing  of  René  since  the  Queen  of  Navarre 
died. — Well,  go  on;  you  climbed  up  to    René's  roof ?" 

"Yes,"  the  King  went  on.  "In  a  moment  I,  followed  by 
Tavannes,  had  reached  a  spot  whence,  without  being  seen,  I 
could  see  into  the  devil's  kitchen,  and  note  certain  things 
which  led  me  to  take  strong  measures.  Do  you  ever  happen 
to  hâve  noticed  the  attics  that  crown  that  damned  Floren- 
tine's  house?  Ail  the  Windows  to  the  street  are  constantly 
kept  shut  excepting  the  last,  from  which  the  Hôtel  de  Sois- 
sons  can  be  seen,  and  the  column  my  mother  had  ereeted  for 
her  astrologer  Cosmo  Ruggieri.  There  is  a  room  in  this  top 
story  with  a  corridor  lighted  from  the  inner  yard,  so  that  in 
order  to  see  what  is  being  done  within,  a  man  must  get  to  a 
perch  which  no  one  would  ever  think  of  climbing,  the  coping 
of  a  high  wall  which  ends  against  the  roof  of  René's  house. 
The  créatures  who  placed  the  alembics  there  to  distil  death, 
trusted  to  the  faint  hearts  of  the  Parisians  to  escape  inspec- 
tion; but  they  counted  without  their  Charles  de  Valois.  I 
crept  along  the  gutter,  and  supported  myself  against  the 
window  jamb  with  my  arm  round  the  neck  of  a  monkey  that 
is  sculptured  on  it." 

"And  what  did  you  see,  dear  heart  ?"  said  Marie,  in  alarm. 

"A  low  room  where  deeds  of  darkness  are  plotted,"  replied 
the  King.     "The  first  thing  on  which  my  eyes  fell  was  a  tall 


2S2  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

old  mail  soatod  in  a  clinir,  wilh  a  inaunifuvMit  bcard  likc  old 
riIôlMtars,  ami  drcssod,  liko  him,  in  hiack  vclvot.  Tho  con- 
wntratitl  rays  of  a  brightiy  burniiig  lam})  fcU  on  his  high 
forchcnd,  docply  fnrrowod  by  liollow  linos,  on  a  crown  nf  wiiitc 
liair  and  a  calm,  thon<:ïbtful  face,  pale  wilh  virils  and  pliidy. 
llis  attention  was  divided  botwecn  a  inanuscri})t  on  ])arch- 
mont  several  centuries  old,  and  two  li^diled  stoves  on  wbich 
some  iieretical  mixtures  wcre  cooking.  Ncitbcr  tlie  lloor  nor 
tho  ceilins:  was  visible;  they  wcre  so  covcrcd  with  animais 
hung  up  there,  skeletons,  dried  hcrbs,  minerais,  and  drugs, 
with  which  thc  place  was  stnfîed;  hère  some  books  and  re- 
torts, with  ehests  full  of  instruments  for  magie  and  astrology  ; 
thero  diagrams  for  horoscopes,  phials,  wax  figures,  and  pcr- 
haps  thc  poisons  hc  coneocts  for  Eené  in  payment  for  the 
shelter  and  hospitality  bestowed  on  him  by  my  mother's 
glover. 

"Tavannes  and  I  wcre  startled,  I  can  tell  you,  at  the  sight 
of  this  diabolical  arsenal;  for  merely  at  thc  sight  of  it  one 
fecls  spellbound,  and  but  that  my  business  is  to  be  King  of 
France,  I  should  hâve  been  frightened.  'Tremble  for  us 
both,'  said  I  to  Tavannes. 

"But  Tavannes'  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  most  mysterious 
object.  On  a  coucli  by  the  old  man's  side  lay  a  girl  at  full 
length,  of  the  strangest  beauty,  as  long  and  slender  as  a 
snake,  as  white  as  an  ermine,  as  pale  as  death,  as  motion- 
less  as  a  statue.  Perhaps  it  was  a  woman  just  dug  out  of  her 
grave,  for  she  seemed  to  be  still  wrapped  in  her  shroud;  her 
eyes  were  fîxed,  and  I  could  not  see  her  brcathe.  The  old 
wretch  paid  no  sort  of  -heed  to  her.  I  watched  him  so  cu- 
riously  that  his  spirit  I  believc  passed  into  me.  By  dint  of 
studying  him,  at  last  I  admired  that  searching  eye,  keen  and 
bold,  in  spite  of  the  chills  of  âge;  that  mouth,  mobile  with 
thoughts  that  came  from  what  seemed  a  single  fixed  désire, 
graven  in  a  myriad  wrinkles.  Everything  in  the  man 
spoke  of  a  hope  which  nothing  can  discourage  and  nothing 
dismay.  His  attitude,  motionless  but  full  of  thrilling  life, 
his  features  so  chiseled,  so  deeply  eut  by  a  passion  that  bas 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  283 

done  the  work  of  the  sculptor's  tool,  that  mind  dead-set  on 
some  criminal  or  scientific  piirpose,  that  searching  intelligence 
on  the  track  of  Nature  though  conquered  by  her,  and  bent, 
without  having  brokcn,  undcr  the  burden  of  an  enterprise 
it  will  never  give  up,  threatening  création  with  lire  borrowed 
from  itself I  was  fascinated  for  a  moment. 

"ïhat  old  man  was  more  a  King  than  I,  for  his  eye  saw 
the  whole  world  and  was  its  master.  I  am  determined  to  tem- 
per  no  more  swords  ;  I  want  to  float  over  abysses,  as  that  old 
man  does;  his  science  seems  to  me  a  sovcreignty.  In  short, 
I  believe  in  thèse  occult  sciences." 

"You,  the  eldest  son,  and  the  defender  of  the  Holy  Cath- 
olic,  Apostolic,  and  Eoman  Church!"  cried  Marie. 

"Why,  what  has  corne  over  you?  Go  on;  I  will  be  fright- 
ened  for  you,  and  you  shall  be  brave  for  me." 

"The  old  man  looked  at  the  clock  and  rose,"  the  King  went 
on.  "He  left  the  room,  how  I  could  not  see,  but  I  heard 
him  open  the  window  towards  the  Eue  Saint-Honoré.  Pres- 
ently  a  light  shone  out,  and  then  I  saw  another  light,  answer- 
ing  to  the  old  man's,  by  which  we  could  perceive  Cosmo  Kug- 
gieri  on  the  top  of  the  column. 

"  'Oh,  ho  !  They  understand  each  other,'  said  I  to 
Tavannes,  who  at  once  thought  the  whole  affair  highly  sua- 
picious,  and  was  quite  of  my  opinion  that  we  should  seize 
thèse  two  men,  and  at  once  make  a  search  in  their  abominable 
workshop.  But  before  proceeding  to  a  raid,  we  wanted  to 
see  what  would  happen.  By  the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
the  door  of  the  laboratory  opened,  and  Cosmo  Euggieri,  my 
mother's  adviser — the  bottomless  pit  in  which  ail  the  Court 
secrets  are  buried,  of  whom  wives  crave  help  against  their 
husbands  and  their  levers,  and  husbands  and  levers  take  coun- 
sel  against  faithless  women,  who  gains  money  out  of  the 
past  and  the  future,  taking  it  from  every  one,  who  sells 
horoscopes,  and  is  supposed  to  know  everything, — that  half- 
demon  came  in  saying  to  the  old  man,  'Good-evening, 
brother.' 


2S4  AHOrr  CATIIIOUINE  1>E"   MEDICI 

"llo  liad  wilh  liim  a  liorribK'  lillk'  old  womaii,  toothlcss, 
huiK-hbackod,  crookcd,  and  bent  like  a  lady's  marmosct,  but 
far  iiioiv  bidoous;  slic  was  wriiiklod  like  a  withered  api)lo, 
lier  skin  was  ol'  tlu'  volov  of  salTron,  lier  chin  met  lier  nose, 
lier  niouth  was  a  hardly  visible  slit,  lier  eyes  werc  like  llie 
bhiek  spots  of  tbe  deuce  on  dice,  lier  brow  expressed  a  bitter 
leniper,  lier  hair  fell  in  gray  looks  froni  under  a  dirty  coif  ; 
she  walked  witli  a  crutcli;  she  stank  of  devilry  and  thc  stakc; 
and  she  frightencd  us,  for  neitlicr  Tavannes  nor  I  belicved 
that  she  was  a  real  woinan;  God  nevcr  niadc  one  so  horrible 
as  she. 

"She  sat  down  on  a  stool  by  Ihe  side  of  thc  fair  white  ser- 
pent with  whoni  Tavannes  was  falling  in  love. 

"The  two  brothers  paid  no  heed  to  either  the  old  woman 
or  the  young  one,  who,  side  by  side,  fornicd  a  horrible  con- 
trast.    On  one  hand  life  in  death,  on  the  other  dcath  in  life." 

"My  swcet  poet  !"  cried  Marie,  kissing  the  King. 

"  *Good-eveuing,  Cosmo,'  the  old  alchemist  replied.  And 
then  both  men  looked  at  the  stove. — 'What  is  the  power  of  the 
nioon  to-night?'  the  old  man  asked  Cosnio. — 'Why,  caro  Lo- 
rcnzo/  my  mother's  astrologer  replied,  'the  high  tides  of  Sep- 
tenibcr  are  not  yet  over;  it  is  impossible  to  read  anything 
in  the  midst  of  sucli  confusion.' — 'And  what  did  the  Orient 
say  this  evening?' — 'Ile  has  just  discovered,'  said  Cosmo, 
'that  there  is  a  créative  force  in  the  air  which  gives  back  to 
the  earth  ail  it  takes  from  it;  lie  concludes,  with  us,  that 
everything  in  this  world  is  the  outcome  of  a  slow  transforma- 
tion, but  ail  the  varions  forms  are  of  one  and  the  same  mat- 
ter.' — 'That  is  what  my  predecessor  thought,'  replied  Lorenzo. 
'This  morning  Bernard  Palissy  was  telling  me  that  the  metals 
are  a  resuit  of  compression,  and  that  fîre,  which  parts  ail 
things,  joins  ail  tliings  also  ;  tire  has  the  power  of  compressing 
as  well  as  that  of  difïusing.  That  worthy  has  a  spark  of 
genius  in  him.' 

"Though  I  was  placed  where  I  could  not  be  seen,  Cosmo 
went  up  to  the  dead  girl,  and  taking  her  hand,  he  said, 
'There  is  some  one  near!  Who  is  it?' — 'The  King,'  said  she. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  285 


«1 


'I  at  once  showcd  myself,  knocking  on  the  window-pane; 
Euggieri  opened  the  window,  and  I  jumped  into  this  wizard's 
kitchen,  followed  by  Tavannes. 

"  'Yes,  the  King,'  said  I  to  the  two  Florentines,  who 
seemed  terror-stricken.  'In  spite  of  your  furaaces  and  books, 
your  witches  and  your  learning,  you  could  not  divine  my 
visit. — I  am  delighted  to  see  the  famous  Lorenzo  Euggieri, 
of  whom  the  Queen  my  mother  speaks  with  such  mystery,' 
said  I  to  the  old  man,  who  rose  and  bowed. — 'You  are  in  this 
kingdom  without  my  consent,  my  good  man.  Whom  are  you 
working  for  hère,  you,  who  from  father  to  son  hâve  dwelt  in 
the  heart  of  the  House  of  the  Medici?  Listen  to  me.  You 
hâve  your  hand  in  so  many  purses,  that  the  most  covetous 
would  by  this  hâve  had  their  fill  of  gold  ;  you  are  far  too  cun- 
ning  to  plunge  unadvisedly  into  criminal  courses,  but  you 
ought  not  either  to  rush  like  f  eather-brains  into  this  kitchen  ; 
you  must  hâve  some  secret  schemes,  you  who  are  not  content 
with  gold  or  with  power?  Whom  do  you  serve,  God  or  the 
Devil?  What  are  you  concocting  hère?  I  insist  on  the 
whole  truth.  I  am  honest  man  enough  to  hear  and  keep 
the  secret  of  your  undertakings,  however  blâmable  they  may 
be.  So  tell  me  everything  without  concealment.  If  you  de- 
ceive  me,  you  will  be  sternly  dealt  with.  But  Pagan  or  Chris- 
tian, Calvinist  or  Mohammedan,  you  hâve  my  Eoyal  word 
for  it  that  you  may  leave  the  country  unpunished,  even  if  you 
hâve  some  peccadilloes  to  confess.  At  any  rate,  I  give  you 
the  remainder  of  this  night  and  to-morrow  morning  to  ex- 
amine your  consciences,  for  you  are  my  prisoners,  and  you 
must  now  follow  me  to  a  place  where  you  will  be  guarded  like 
a  treasure.' 

"Before  yielding  to  my  authority,  the  two  Florentines 
glanced  at  each  other  with  a  wily  eye,  and  Lorenzo  Euggieri 
replied  that  I  might  be  certain  that  no  torture  would  wring 
their  secrets  from  them;  that  in  spite  of  their  frail  appear- 
ance,  neither  pain  nor  human  feeling  had  any  hold  on  them. 
Confidence  alone  could  win  from  their  lips  what  their  mind 
had  in  its  keeping.     I  was  not  to  be  surprised  if  at  that  mo- 


286  AIIOUT  CATIIKIUNE  DE'  MEDICI 

iiK'iu  ihey  trcalcd  ou  an  c^\u■d\  fooliiii,'  wilh  a  Kinjj;  who  ac- 
knowlodi^od  no  onc  nbovc  hiin  but  God.  for  (liât  tlioir  idcas 
also  came  froni  Ciod  alono.  ll.noe  thcy  dcmanded  of  me 
such  confidence  as  they  would  ^'rnnt.  Ho,  hoforc  ])k'dfj;ing 
thonisolvos  to  nnswor  my  questions  without  reserve,  tliey  de- 
?ired  nie  to  place  niy  left  liand  in  tlie  youn^  girl's  and  my 
riglit  liand  in  tho  old  woman's.  Not  choosin^^  1o  let  tliciii 
suppose  that  1  feared  any  devilry,  I  put  out  my  liands. 
Lorcnzo  took  tlie  ri;j;lit  and  Cosnio  thc  Icfl,  and  each  placed 
one  in  the  liand  of  a  wonian,  so  thcre  I  was  likc  Jésus  Christ 
between  the  two  thievcs.  Ail  the  tiine  thc  two  witchcs  were 
studying  my  liands,  Cosmo  held  a  niirror  beforc  me,  desiring 
me  to  look  at  mysclf,  while  his  brotiicr  talked  to  the  two  wo- 
men  in  an  unknown  tongue.  Neither  Tavannes  nor  I  could 
catch  the  meaning  of  a  single  sentence. 

''We  set  scals  on  every  entrance  to  this  laboratory  before 
bringing  away  thc  men,  and  Tavannes  undertook  to  keep 
guard  till  Bernard  Palissy  and  Chapelain,  my  physician-in- 
chief,  shall  go  there  to  make  a  close  examination  of  ail  the 
drugs  stored  or  made  there.  It  was  to  hinder  their  knowing 
anything  of  the  search  going  on  in  their  kitchen,  and  to  pre- 
vent  their  communicating  with  any  one  whatever  outside — 
for  they  might  hâve  sent  some  message  to  my  mother — that 
I  brought  thèse  two  démons  to  be  shut  up  hère  with  Solern's 
Germans  to  watch  them,  who  are  as  good  as  the  stoutest 
prison-walls.  René  himself  is  confined  to  his  room  under  the 
eye  of  Solern's  groom,  and  the  two  witches  also.  And  now, 
sweetheart,  as  I  hold  thc  key  of  the  Cabala,  the  kings  of 
Thunes,  the  chicfs  of  witchcraft,  the  princes  of  Bohemia,  the 
masters  of  the  future,  the  inheritors  of  ail  the  famous  sooth- 
sayers,  I  will  read  and  know  your  heart,  and  at  last  we  will 
know  what  is  to  become  of  us." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  if  you  can  lay  my  heart  bare,"  said. 
Marie  without  showing  the  least  alarm. 

''I  know  why  necromancers  do  not  frighten  you;  you  cast 
spells  yourself." 

''Will  you  not  hâve  some  of  thèse  peaches  ?"  said  she,  offer- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  287 

ing  him  some  fine  fruit  on  a  silver-gilt  plate.  "Look  at  thèse 
grapes  and  pears;  I  went  myself  to  gather  them  ail  at  Vin- 
cennes." 

"Then  I  will  eat  some,  for  there  can  be  no  poison  in  them 
but  the  philters  distillcd  frora  your  fingers." 

"You  ought  to  eat  much  fruit,  Charles  ;  it  would  cool  your 
blood,  which  you  scorch  by  such  violent  living." 

"And  ought  I  not  to  love  you  less  too  ?" 

"Perhaps "  said  she.    "If  what  you  love  is  bad  for  you, 

— and  I  hâve  thought  so — I  should  find  power  in  my  love  to 
refuse  to  let  you  hâve  it.  I  adore  Charles  far  more  than  I 
love  the  King,  and  I  want  the  man  to  live  without  the  trou- 
bles that  make  him  sad  and  anxious." 

"Koyalty  is  destroying  me." 

"It  is  so,"  replied  she.  "If  you  were  only  a  poor  prince 
like  your  brother-in-law  the  King  of  Navarre,  that  wretched 
débauchée  who  has  not  a  sou  or  a  stitch  of  his  own,  who  has 
merely  a  poor  little  kingdom  in  Spain  where  he  will  never 
set  foot,  and  Béarn  in  France,  which  yields  him  scarcely 
enough  to  live  on,  I  should  be  happy,  much  happier  than  if 
I  were  really  Queen  of  France." 

"But  are  you  not  much  more  than  the  Queen?  King 
Charles  is  hers  only  for  the  benefit  of  the  kingdom,  for  the 
Queen,  after  ail,  is  part  of  our  politics." 

Marie  smiled  with  a  pretty  little  pout,  saying: 

"\Ve  ail  know  that,  my  liège. — And  my  sonnet — is  it  fin- 
ished?" 

"Dear  child,  it  is  as  hard  to  write  verses  as  to  draw  up  an 
edict  of  pacification.  I  will  finish  them  for  you  soon.  Ah 
God  !  life  sits  lightly  on  me  hère,  would  I  could  never  leave 
you  ! — But  I  must,  nevertheless,  examine  the  two  Florentines. 
By  ail  the  sacred  relies,  I  thought  one  Euggieri  quite  enough 
in  France,  and  behold  there  are  two  !  Listen,  my  dearest 
heart,  you  hâve  a  good  mother-wit,  you  would  make  a  capital 
lieutenant  of  police,  for  you  detect  everything " 

"Well,  Sire,  we  women  take  ail  we  dread  for  granted,  and 
to  us  what  is  probable  is  certain  ;  there  is  ail  our  subtlety  in 
two  words" 


28R  AnOUT  CATIIMUINE  l>I<r   MKDICI 

"Wt'll,  thon,  lu'l})  me  \o  fntliorii  lliosi'  Iwo  mon.  At  this 
moment  every  détermination  I  may  come  to  deju-nils  on  this 
examinât  ion.  Are  they  innocent?  Arc  thcy  guilty? — Bcliind 
thcm  stands  my  mot  lier." 

"I  hear  Jacob  on  tlie  windin^  stair,"  said  Marie. 

Jaeob  was  tlie  Kin<:^'s  favorite  body  servant,  wlio  accom- 
jianied  him  in  ail  lus  amusements;  ho  now  came  to  a^k 
whethcr  lus  Blaster  would  wish  to  spcak  to  thc  two  prisoncrs. 

At  a  nod  of  consent,  llu'  mistrcss  of  thc  housc  gave  somc 
ordcrs. 

"Jacob,"  said  sho,  "makc  evory  onc  in  thc  place  leave  tho 
house,  excepting  thc  nurse  and  Monsieur  le  Dauphin 
d'Auvergne — thcy  may  stay.  Do  you  remain  in  thc  room 
downstairs;  but  first  of  ail  shut  the  Windows,  draw  thc  cur- 
tains,  and  light  the  candies." 

The  King's  impatience  was  so  great  that,  while  thèse  prépa- 
rations were  being  made,  he  came  to  take  liis  j)lace  in  a  large 
settle,  and  his  pretty  mistrcss  scated  herself  by  his  sidc  in  the 
nook  of  a  wide,  white  marble  chimney-place,  where  a  bright 
fire  blazed  on  the  hearth.  In  the  place  of  a  mirror  hung  a  por- 
trait of  the  King,  in  a  red  velvet  frame.  Charles  rested  his 
elbow  on  the  arm  of  the  seat,  to  contcmplate  the  two  Italians 
at  his  ease. 

The  shutters  shut,  and  the  curtains  drawn,  Jacob  lighted 
the  candies  in  a  sort  of  candelabrum  of  chased  silver,  placing 
it  on  a  table  at  which  the  two  Florentines  took  their  stand — 
seeming  to  recognize  the  candlestick  as  the  work  of  their 
fellow-townsman,  Benvenuto  Ccllini.  Then  the  efTect  of  this 
rich  room,  decorated  in  the  King's  taste,  was  really  brilliant. 
The  russet  tone  of  the  tapestries  looked  botter  than  by  day- 
light.  The  furniture,  elegantly  carved,  reflected  the  light  of 
the  candies  and  of  the  tire  in  its  shining  bosses.  The  gilding, 
judiciously  introduced,  sparkled  hère  and  there  like  eyes,  and 
gave  relief  to  the  brown  coloring  that  predominated  in  this 
nest  for  levers. 

Jacob  knocked  twice,  and  at  a  word  brought  in  the  two 
Florentines.     Marie  Touchet  was  immediately  struck  by  the 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  289 

grand  présence  which  distinguished  Lorenzo  in  the  sight  of 
great  and  small  alike.  This  austère  and  vénérable  man, 
whose  silver  beard  was  relieved  against  an  overeoat  of  black 
velvet,  had  a  forehead  like  a  marble  dôme.  His  severe  counte- 
nance,  with  two  black  eyes  tliat  darted  points  of  fire,  inspired 
a  thrill  as  of  a  genius  emerged  from  the  deepest  solitude,  and 
ail  the  more  impressive  because  its  power  was  not  dulled  by 
contact  with  other  men.  It  was  as  the  steel  of  a  blade  that 
has  not  yet  been  used. 

Cosmo  Ruggieri  wore  the  Court  dress  of  the  period.  Marie 
nodded  to  the  King,  to  show  liim  that  he  had  not  exaggerated 
the  picture,  and  to  thank  him  for  introducing  her  to  tliis  ex- 
traordinary  man. 

''I  should  hâve  liked  to  see  the  witches  too,"  she  whispered. 

Charles  IX.,  sunk  again  in  brooding,  made  no  reply  ;  he  was 
anxiously  fiipping  off  some  crumbs  of  bread  that  happened 
to  lie  on  his  doublet  and  hose. 

"Your  science  cannot  work  on  the  sky,  nor  compel  the  sun 
to  shine.  Messieurs  de  Florence,"  said  the  King,  pointing 
to  the  curtains  which  had  been  drawn  to  shut  out  the  gray 
mist  of  Paris.    "There  is  no  daylight." 

"Our  science.  Sire,  enables  us  to  make  a  sky  as  we  will," 
said  Lorenzo  Euggieri.  "The  weather  is  always  fair  for  those 
who  work  in  a  laborator}'  by  the  light  of  a  furnace." 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  King.— "Well,  father,"  said  he, 
using  a  word  he  was  accustomed  to  employ  to  old  men, 
"explain  to  us  very  clearly  the  object  of  your  studies." 

*^Vho  will  guarantee  us  impunity?" 

"The  word  of  a  King!"  replied  Charles,  whose  curiosity 
was  greatly  excited  by  this  question. 

Lorenzo  Ruggieri  seemed  to  hesitate,  and  Charles  ex- 
claimed  : 

"What  checks  you  ?  we  are  alone." 

"Is  the  King  of  France  hère  ?"  asked  the  old  man. 

Charles  IX.  reflected  for  a  moment,  then  he  replied,  "No." 

"But  will  he  not  come  ?"  Lorenzo  urged. 

"No,"  replied  Charles,  restraining  an  impulse  of  rage. 


290  ABOUT  CATIIEÏUN'E  DE'  MEDICI 

Tlio  iniposiiiix  olcl  nian  (oolc  a  chair  aiul  sat  down.  Cosmo, 
anuued  al  lus  bolilnoss,  daivd  not  iniitale  lus  brothor. 

Charles  IX.  saiil,  wilh  soverc  irou}- : 

"The  King  is  not  hère,  inonijieur,  but  you  are  in  the  prea- 
cnce  of  u  lady  whosc  permission  you  ought  to  wait  for." 

"The  man  you  see  beforc  you,  madame,"  said  the  grand 
old  man,  "is  as  far  abovc  kings  as  kings  arc  above  their  sub- 
jocts,  and  you  shall  lind  me  courteous,  cven  whcn  you  know 
my  power." 

Hearing  thèse  bold  words,  spoken  with  Italian  emphasia, 
Charles  and  Marie  looked  at  each  other  and  then  at  Cosmo, 
^vho,  with  lus  eyes  fixed  on  his  brother,  seemed  to  be  asking 
lumself,  "llow  will  he  gct  himself  out  of  the  awkward  posi- 
tion we  are  in  ?" 

In  fact,  one  person  only  could  appreciate  the  dignity  and 
skill  of  Lorenzo  Kuggieri's  first  move;  nol  the  King,  nor  his 
young  mistress,  over  whom  the  elder  man  had  cast  the  spell 
of  his  audacity,  but  his  not  less  wily  brother  Cosmo.  Though 
he  was  superior  to  the  clevcrest  mcn  at  Court,  and  perhaps 
to  his  patroness  Catherine  de'  Medici,  the  astrologer  knew 
Lorenzo  to  be  his  master. 

The  leamed  old  man,  buried  in  solitude,  had  gauged  the 
sovereigns  of  the  earth,  almost  ail  of  them  wearied  out  by 
the  perpétuai  shifting  of  politics;  for  at  that  time  great 
crises  were  so  sudden,  so  far  reaching,  so  fierce,  and  so  unex- 
pected  !  He  knew  their  satiety,  their  lassitude  ;  he  knew 
with  what  eagerness  they  pursued  ail  that  was  new,  strange, 
or  uncommon  ;  and,  above  ail,  how  glad  they  were  to  rise 
now  and  then  to  intellectual  régions  so  as  to  escape  from  the 
perpétuai  stniggle  with  men  and  things.  To  those  who  hâve 
exhausted  politics,  nothing  remains  but  abstract  thought; 
this  Charles  V.  had  proved  by  his  abdication. 

Charles  IX.,  who  made  sonnets  and  swords  to  recreate 
himself  after  the  absorbing  business  of  an  âge  when  the 
Throne  was  in  not  less  ill-odor  than  the  King,  and  when 
Eoyalty  had  only  its  cares  and  none  of  its  pleasures,  could 
not  but  be  strangely  startled  by  Lorenzo's  audacious  négation 


fê'of'.y^^^*'^    faoo  ^   ^.3.J^. 


■^tv.'\î!\!"c  •rvuc>c-.:rv''^'^ 


•1 


•w,,.. 


■  Ul'Mi    .-flMU    »;<^J»'4m^"';  ^■. 


I  -      y.  ■       '^  ■    V  •••1 


^^. 


\ 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  291 

of  his  power.  Eeligious  irapiety  had  ceased  to  be  surprising 
at  a  time  when  Catholicism  was  closely  inquired  into  ;  but  the 
subversion  of  ail  religion,  assumed  as  a  groundwork  for  the 
wild  spéculations  of  mysticaJ  arts,  naturally  amazed  the 
King,  and  roused  him  from  his  gloomy  absence  of  mind. 
Besides,  a  victory  to  be  won  over  mankind  was  an  undertaking 
which  would  make  every  other  interest  seem  trivial  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Ruggieri.  An  important  debt  to  be  paid  depended 
on  this  idea  to  be  suggested  to  the  King;  the  brothers  could 
not  ask  for  this,  and  yet  they  must  obtain  it.  The  first  thing 
was  to  make  Charles  IX.  forget  his  suspicions  by  making 
him  jump  at  some  new  idea. 

The  two  Italians  knew  full  well  that  in  this  strange  game 
their  lives  were  at  stake;  and  the  glances — défèrent  but 
proud — that  they  exchanged  with  Marie  and  the  King,  whose 
looks  were  keen  and  suspicious,  were  a  drama  in  themselves. 

"Sire,"  said  Lorenzo  Ruggieri,  "you  hâve  asked  for  the 
tnith.  But  to  show  her  to  you  naked,  I  must  bid  you  sound 
the  well,  the  pit,  from  which  she  will  rise.  I  pray  you  let 
the  gentleman,  the  poet,  forgive  us  for  saying  what  the 
Eldest  Son  of  the  Church  may  regard  as  blasphemy — I  do 
not  believe  that  God  troubles  himself  about  human  afïairs." 

Though  fully  resolved  to  préserve  his  sovereign  indiffér- 
ence, Charles  IX.  could  not  control  a  gesture  of  surprise. 

"But  for  that  conviction,  I  should  hâve  no  faith  in  the 
miraculous  work  to  which  I  hâve  devoted  myself.  But,  to 
carry  it  out,  I  must  believe  it  ;  and  if  the  hand  of  God  rules 
ail  things,  I  am  a  madman.  So,  be  it  known  to  the  King, 
we  aim  at  winning  a  victory  over  the  immédiate  course  of 
human  nature. 

"I  am  an  alchemist.  Sire;  but  do  not  suppose,  with  the 
vulgar,  that  I  am  striving  to  make  gold.  The  composition 
of  gold  is  not  the  end,  but  only  an  incident  of  our  researches; 
else  we  should  not  call  our  undertaking  Magnum  Opus,  the 
great  work.  The  Great  Work  is  something  far  more  am- 
bitions than  that.  If  I,  at  this  day,  could  recognize  the 
présence  of  God  in  matter,  the  fîre  of  the  furnaces  that  hâve 


292  ABOUT  CAÏllEKINE  DK"   MKDICI 

boeii  biiminp:  for  conturic«  wouUl  he  cxtinguishcd  to-morrow 
at  my  bidding. 

"But  nuike  no  niistako — to  dony  the  direct  interférence 
of  God  is  not  to  deny  Cîod.  Wo  place  tlie  Creator  of  ail 
tliinga  far  above  tlie  levcl  to  which  religions  rcdiice  Iliin. 
Those  who  hope  for  iininortality  are  not  to  be  accuscd  of 
Atheisni.  Following  tbe  exaniple  of  Lucifer,  we  are  jealous 
of  God,  and  jcalousy  is  a  proof  of  violent  love.  Tiiougli  tliis 
doctrine  lies  at  the  root  of  our  labors,  ail  adepts  do  not  ac- 
cept  it.  Cosmo,"  said  the  old  nian,  indicating  his  brother, 
"Cosmo  is  devout  ;  he  pays  for  niasses  for  the  repose  of  our 
father's  soûl,  and  he  goes  to  hear  them.  Your  niother's 
astrologer  believes  in  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  in  the  luiinacu- 
late  Conception,  and  in  Transnbstantiation;  he  believes  in 
the  Pope's  indulgences,  and  in  hell — he  believes  in  an 
infinité  number  of  things. — His  hour  is  not  yet  corne,  for  I 
hâve  read  his  horoscope;  he  will  live  to  be  nearly  a  hundred. 
He  will  live  through  two  reigns,  and  see  two  Kings  of  France 
assassinatcd " 

"Who  will  be ?"  asked  the  King. 

"The  last  of  the  Valois  and  the  first  of  the  Bourbons,"  re- 
plied  Lorenzo.  "But  Cosmo  will  corne  to  my  way  of  think- 
ing.  In  fact,  it  is  impossible  to  be  an  alchemist  and  a 
Catholic  ;  to  believe  in  the  dominion  of  man  over  matter,  and 
in  the  suprême  power  of  mind." 

"Cosmo  will  live  to  be  a  hundred  ?"  said  the  King,  knitting 
his  brows  in  the  terrible  way  that  was  his  wont. 

"Yes,  Sire,"  said  Lorenzo  decisively.  "He  will  die  peace- 
fully  in  his  bed." 

"If  it  is  in  your  power  to  predict  the  moment  of  your 
death,  how  can  you  be  ignorant  of  the  resuit  of  your  in- 
quiries?"  asked  the  King.  And  he  smiled  triumphantly  as 
he  looked  at  Marie  Touchet. 

The  brothers  exchanged  a  swift  look  of  satisfaction. 

"He  is  interested  in  alchemy,"  thought  they,  "so  we  are 
eafe.'* 


ABOUT   CATHERINE   DE*    MEDICI  293 

"Our  prognostics  are  based  on  the  existing  relations  of  man 
to  nature;  but  the  very  point  we  aim  at  is  the  complète  altéra- 
tion of  those  relations,"  replied  Lorenzo. 

The  King  sat  thinking. 

"But  if  you  are  sure  that  you  must  die,  you  are  assured 
of  defeat/'  said  Charles  IX. 

"As  our  predecessors  were,"  replied  Lorenzo,  lifting  his 
hand  and  letting  it  drop  with  a  solemn  and  emphatic  gesture, 
as  dignified  as  his  thoughts.  "But  your  mind  has  rushed 
on  to  the  goal  of  our  attempts,  Sire;  we  must  corne  back 
again,  Sire  !  Unless  you  know  the  ground  on  which  our 
édifice  is  erected,  you  may  persist  in  saying  that  it  will  fall, 
and  judge  this  science,  which  has  been  pursued  for  centuries 
by  the  greatest  minds,  as  the  vulgar  judge  it." 

The  King  bowed  assent. 

"I  believe,  then,  that  this  earth  belongs  to  man,  that  he 
is  master  of  it,  and  may  appropriate  ail  the  forces,  ail  the 
éléments  thereof.  Man  is  not  a  créature  proceeding  directly 
from  the  hand  of  God,  but  the  resuit  of  the  principle  dif- 
fused  throughout  the  infinité  Ether,  wherein  myriads  of  be- 
ings  are  produced;  and  thèse  hâve  no  resemblance  to  each 
other  between  star  and  star,  because  the  conditions  of  life 
are  everywhere  différent.  Ay,  my  Liège,  the  motion  we  call 
life  has  its  source  beyond  ail  visible  worlds;  création  draws 
from  it  as  the  surrounding  conditions  may  require,  and  the 
minutest  beings  share  in  it  by  taking  ail  they  are  able,  at 
their  own  risk  and  péril;  it  is  their  part  to  défend  them- 
selves  from  death.     This  is  the  sum  total  of  alchemy. 

"If  man,  the  most  perfect  animal  on  this  globe,  had  within 
him  a  fraction  of  the  Godhead,  he  could  not  perish — but  he 
does  perish.  To  escape  from  this  dilemma,  Socrates  and  his 
school  invented  the  soûl.  I — the  successor  of  the  great  un- 
known  kings  who  hâve  ruled  this  science — I  am  for  the  old 
théories  against  the  new;  I  believe  in  the  transmutation  of 
matter  which  I  can  see,  as  against  the  eternity  of  a  soûl 
which  I  cannot  see.  I  do  not  acknowledge  the  world  of 
soûls.  If  such  a  world  existed,  the  substances,  of  which  the 
19 


V.V  •••^-fc.   •'>.„~.''"-«..,..>^^  •■>! 


•2^[  ABOUT  CATIIEllINE  DE'  MEDICI 

boaiitiful  conibiuation  proiîuces  your  body — ami  which  in 
madame  aro  su  diizzling — would  iiot  soparate  aiul  résolve 
themselves  after  your  death  to  relurn  cach  to  its  own  place; 
the  watcr  to  water,  liio  (ire  to  tire,  the  mct;il  to  métal,  just 
as  wlien  my  eharcoal  is  burnt  its  éléments  are  restored  to 
iheir  original  molécules. 

"Thougii  you  say  that  somcthing  lives  on,  it  is  not  we  our- 
selves;  ail  that  constitutes  oui-  living  self  perishcs. 

*'Now,  it  is  my  living  self  that  1  désire  io  perpetuate  be- 
yond  the  common  term  of  life;  it  is  the  présent  manifesta- 
tion for  which  1  want  to  socure  longer  duralion.  What  ! 
trees  live  for  centuries,  and  men  shall  live  but  for  years, 
while  those  are  passive  and  we  are  active;  while  they  are 
motionless  and  speechless,  and  we  walk  and  talk  !  No  créa- 
ture on  earth  ought  to  be  superior  to  us  either  in  powcr  or 
permanency.  We  hâve  alrcady  expanded  our  sensés;  we  can 
see  into  the  stars.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  extend  our  life. 
I  place  life  above  power,  Of  what  use  is  power  if  life  slips 
from  us? 

"A  rational  man  ought  to  hâve  no  occupation  but  that  of 
seeking — not  whether  there  is  another  life — but  the  secret 
on  which  our  présent  life  is  based,  so  as  to  be  able  to  pro- 
long it  at  will  ! — This  is  the  désire  that  has  silvered  my  hair. 
But  I  walk  on  boldly  in  the  darkness,  leading  to  battle 
those  intellects  which  share  my  faith.  Life  will  some  day 
be  ours." 

"But  how  ?"  cried  the  King,  starting  to  his  feet. 

"The  first  condition  of  our  faith  is  the  belief  that  this  world 
is  for  man;  you  must  grant  me  that,"  said  Lorenzo. 

"Well  and  good,  so  be  it!"  said  Charles  de  Valois,  impa- 
tient, but  already  fascinated. 

"Well,  then.  Sire,  if  we  remove  God  from  this  world,  what 
is  left  but  man?  Now  let  us  survey  our  domain.  The  ma- 
terial  world  is  composed  of  éléments;  those  éléments  hâve  a 
first  principle  within  them.  Ail  thèse  principles  résolve 
themselves  into  one  which  is  gifted  with  motion.  The  num- 
ber  Thrce  is  the  formula  of  création  :  Matter,  Motion,  Produc- 
tion !" 


ABOUT   CATHERINE   DE'    MEDICI  295 

*Troof,  proof  ?     Pause  there  !"  cried  the  King. 

"Do  you  not  see  the  elïccts?"  replied  Loreuzo.  "We  hâve 
analyzed  in  our  crucibles  the  acorn  from  which  an  oak  would 
hâve  risen  as  well  as  the  embryo  which  would  hâve  become  a 
man;  from  thèse  small  masses  of  matter  a  pure  élément  was 
derived  to  which  some  force,  some  motion  would  hâve  been 
added.  In  the  absence  of  a  Creator,  must  not  that  first  prin- 
ciple  be  able  to  assume  the  external  forms  which  constitute 
our  world?  For  the  phenomcna  of  life  are  evjerywhere  the 
same.  Yes,  in  metals  as  in  living  beings,  in  plants  as  in  man, 
life  begins  by  an  imperceptible  embryo  which  develops  spon- 
taneously.  There  is  a  first  principle  !  We  must  detect  it  at 
the  point  where  it  acts  on  itself,  where  it  is  one,  where  it  is 
a  Principle  before  it  is  a  Créature,  a  cause  before  it  is  an 
effeet;  then  we  shall  see  it  Absolute — formless,  but  capable, 
of  assuming  ail  the  forms  we  see  it  take. 

"When  we  are  face  to  face  with  this  particle  or  atom,  and 
hâve  detected  its  motion  from  the  starting  point,  we  shall 
know  its  laws;  we  are  thenceforth  its  masters,  and  able  to 
impose  on  it  the  form  we  may  choose,  among  ail  we  see;  we 
shall  possess  gold,  having  the  world,  and  can  give  ourselves 
centuries  of  life  to  enjoy  our  wealth.  That  is  what  we  seek, 
my  disciples  and  I.  Ail  our  powers,  ail  our  thoughts  are 
directed  to  that  search;  nothing  diverts  us  from  it.  One 
hour  wasted  on  any  other  passion  would  be  stolen  from  our 
greatness  !  You  hâve  never  found  one  of  your  hunting-dogs 
neglectful  of  the  game  or  the  death,  and  I  hâve  never  known 
one  of  my  perse vering  subjects  diverted  by  a  woman  or  a 
thought  of  greed. 

"If  the  adept  eraves  for  gold  and  power,  that  hunger 
cornes  of  our  necessities;  he  clutches  at  fortune  as  a  thirsty 
hound  snatches  a  moment  from  the  chase  to  drink,  because 
his  retorts  demand  a  d^amond  to  consume,  or  ignots  to  be 
reduced  to  powder.  Each  one  has  his  line  of  work.  This  one 
seeks  the  secret  of  vegetable  nature,  he  studies  the  torpid  life 
of  plants,  he  notes  the  parity  of  motion  in  every  speeies  and 
the  parity  of  nutrition;  in  every  case  he  discerns  that  sun. 


21W  AHOUT   CATIIEHINE    DK'    MKHIOI 

air,  and  wator  are  uoodod  for  fiTtilily  and  iiourislnnont.  An- 
otlii'r  invi>stip:atos  tlu>  bUnnl  of  animais.  A  tliird  studios 
tiu'  laws  of  motion  «rcnorally  and  its  relation  to  tho  orhitH 
of  tho  stars.  Almost  ail  lovo  to  struggU'  with  tho  intraotahle 
naturo  i»f  mctals  ;  for  though  \ve  find  variouR  olomonts  in 
everything,  \vo  nlways  find  motals  the  samo  tliroiighout,  down 
to  thoir  minutost  particlos. 

"Honco  tho  oomnion  orror  as  to  our  lahors.  Do  you  soe 
ail  tlioso  pationt  toilors,  thoso  indofatij^ahlo  athlolos,  always 
vanquishod,  and  always  returning  to  tho  assault?  Humanity, 
Sire,  is  at  onr  heels,  as  your  huntsnian  is  ai  the  heols  of 
the  pack.  It  cries  to  us,  'Hurry  on  !  Overlook  nothing!  Sac- 
ritîoo  overything,  even  a  man — yon  who  sacrifice  ymirsolvcs! 
Hurrv  onward  !  Cut  olf  the  hoad  and  hands  of  Doath,  my 
foe  !'  ' 

"Yes,  Sire,  we  are  animated  by  a  sentiment  on  which  the 
happinoss  dépends  of  générations  to  corne.  We  hâve  buried 
niany  mon — and  what  mon  ! — who  hâve  died  in  the  pursuit. 
When  we  set  foot  on  that  road  it  is  not  to  work  for  oursolves: 
we  may  perish  without  discovoring  the  secret.  And  what  a 
death  is  that  of  a  man  who  does  not  believe  in  a  future  life  ! 
We  are  glorious  martyrs;  we  bear  the  selfishness  of  the  whole 
race  in  our  hearts  ;  we  live  in  our  successors.  On  our  way 
we  discover  secrets  which  enrich  the  mechanical  and  libéral 
arts.  Our  furnaces  shod  gloams  of  light  which  holp  society 
to  possess  more  perfect  forms  of  industry.  Gunpowder  was 
discovered  in  our  retorts;  we  shall  conquer  the  thunder  yet. 
Our  patient  vigils  may  overthrow  polities." 

"Can  that  be  possible  !"  cried  the  King,  sitting  up  again 
on  the  settle. 

"Why  not?"  replied  the  Grand  Master  of  the  New  Tem- 
plars.  "Tradidit  mundvm  disputatiotiibus !  God  bas  given  us 
the  world.  Liston  to  this  once  again  !  Man  is  lord  on  earth 
and  matter  is  his.  Every  means,  every  power  is  at  his  ser- 
vice. What  created  us?  A  motion.  What  power  keeps  life 
in  us?  A  motion.  And  should  not  science  grasp  this  mo- 
tion?    Nothing  on  earth  is  lost,  nothing  Aies  oit'  from  our 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  297 

planet  to  go  elsewhere;  if  it  were  so,  the  stars  would  fall  on 
one  another.  The  waters  of  the  Déluge  are  ail  hère,  and  not 
a  drop  lost.  Around  us,  above,  below,  are  the  éléments  whence 
hâve  procecded  the  innumerabic  millions  of  men  who  hâve 
trodden  the  earth,  before  and  since  the  Déluge.  What  is  it 
that  remains  to  be  done  ?  To  detect  the  disintegrating  force  ; 
on  the  other  hand,  to  discover  the  combiuing  force.  We  are 
the  outcome  of  a  visible  toil.  When  the  waters  covered  our 
globe,  men  came  forth  from  them  who  found  the  éléments  of 
life  in  the  earth's  covering,  in  the  atmosphère,  and  in  food. 
Earth  and  air,  theu,  contain  the  first  principlc  of  liuman 
transformations;  thèse  go  on  under  our  ejes,  by  the  agency 
of  what  is  under  our  eyes;  hence  we  can  discover  the  secret 
by  not  confining  our  efforts  to  the  span  of  one  man's  life, 
but  making  the  task  endure  as  long  as  mankind  itself.  We 
hâve,  in  fact,  attacked  matter  as  a  whole;  Matter,  in  which 
I  believe,  and  which  I,  Grand  Master  of  our  Order,  am  bent 
on  penetrating. 

'^Christopher  Columbus  gave  a  world  to  the  King  of  Spain  ; 
I  am  seeking  to  give  the  King  of  France  a  people  that  shall 
never  die. — I,  an  outpost  on  the  remotest  frontier  which  cuts 
us  ofï  from  the  knowledgo  of  things,  a  patient  student  of 
atoms,  I  destroy  forms,  I  dissolve  the  bonds  of  every  com- 
bination,  I  imitate  Death  to  enable  me  to  imitate  Life.  In 
short,  I  knock  incessantly  at  the  door  of  Création,  and  shall 
*  still  knock  till  my  latest  day.  When  I  die,  my  knocker  will 
pass  into  other  hands  not  less  indefatigable,  as  unknown 
giants  bequeathed  it  to  me. 

"Fabulons  images,  never  understood,  such  as  those  of  Pro- 
metheus,  of  Ixion,  of  Adonis,  of  Pan,  etc.,  which  are  part 
of  the  religions  beliefs  of  every  people  and  in  every  âge,  show 
us  that  this  hope  had  its  birth  with  the  human  race.  Chaldœa, 
India,  Persia,  Egypt,  Greece,  and  the  Moors  hâve  transmitted 
Magian  lore,  the  highest  of  ail  the  occult  sciences,  the  store- 
house  of  the  results  of  générations  of  watchers.  Therein  lay 
the  bond  of  the  noble  and  majestic  Order  of  the  Temple. 
When  he  burned  the  Templars,  a  predecessor  of  yours,  Sire, 


208  AIIOI'T  CAIUKRINIC  DE'  MEDIOI 

onJy  burncd  racn;  thcir  secrets  reniain  witli  us.  Tlie  recon- 
struction of  thc  Temple  is  the  watchword  of  an  uurccognizcd 
people,  a  rnce  of  inlrepid  seckers,  ail  looking  to  tlie  Orient 
of  life,  ail  brothren,  ail  inséparable,  united  by  an  idea, 
staniped  with  the  scal  of  toil.  1  am  thc  sovereign  of  this 
peuple,  iheir  chief  by  élection  and  not  by  birth.  1  guide  thcm 
ail  lowards  the  essence  of  lifc  !  Grand  Master,  Kusicrucians, 
companions,  adepts,  \ve  ail  pursuc  the  invisible  molécule 
which  cscapcs  our  crucibles,  and  still  cvades  our  sight;  but 
we  shall  make  onrselvcs  eyes  manifold  more  powcrful  than 
those  bestowcd  on  us  by  nature;  wc  shall  get  to  thc  primi- 
tive atom,  the  corpuscular  clément  so  persevcringly  sought 
by  ail  the  sages  who  havc  p'rcccded  us  in  the  sublime  pursuit. 

"Sire,  when  a  man  stands  astride  on  that  abyss,  and  has 
at  his  command  divers  so  intrcpid  as  my  brethren,  other 
human  interests  look  ver}''  small  ;  hence  wc  arc  not  danger- 
ous.  Keligious  disputes  and  political  strugglcs  are  far  from 
ns;  we  are  irameasurably  bcyond  them.  Thosc  who  contend 
with  nature  do  not  condescend  to  take  men  by  the  throat. 

"Moreover,  every  resuit  in  our  science  is  appréciable;  we 
can  mcasure  every  efïcct,  we  can  predict  it,  whereas  in  the 
combinations  which  include  men  and  their  interests  every- 
thing  is  unstable.  We  shall  submit  the  diamond  to  our  cru- 
cible  ;  we  shall  make  diamonds  ;  we  shall  make  gold  !  Like 
one  of  our  craft  at  Barcelona,  we  shall  make  ships  move  by 
the  help  of  a  little  water  and  fire.  We  shall  dispense  with 
the  wind,  nay,  we  shall  make  the  wind,  we  shall  make  light 
and  renew  the  face  of  empires  by  new  industries  ! — But  we 
will  never  stoop  to  mount  a  throne  to  be  gehennaed  by  na- 
tions." 

Xotwithstanding  his  désire  to  avoid  being  entrapped  by 
Florentine  cunning,  the  King,  as  well  as  his  simple-minded 
mistress,  was  by  this  time  caught  and  carricd  away  in  the 
rhctoric  and  rhodomontade  of  this  pompous  and  specious  flow 
of  words.  The  levers'  eyes  betrayed  how  much  they  were 
dazzled  by  the  vision  of  mysterious  riches  spread  out  before 
them  ;  they  saw,  as  it  were,  subterranean  caverns  in  long  per- 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  299 

spective  full  of  toiling  gnomes.  The  impatience  of  curiosity 
dissipated  the  alarms  of  suspicion. 

"But,  then,"  exclaimed  the  King,  "jou  are  great  politicians, 
and  can  enlighten  us." 

"îfo.  Sire,"  said  Lorenzo  simply. 

'^hy  not?"  asked  the  King. 

"Sire,  it  is  given  to  no  one  to  be  able  to  predict  what  "will 
come  of  a  concourse  of  some  thousands  of  men;  we  may  be 
able  to  tell  what  one  man  will  do,  how  long  he  will  live,  and 
whether  he  will  be  lucky  or  unlucky;  but  we  cannot  tell  how 
several  wills  thrown  together  will  act,  and  any  calculation  of 
the  swing  of  their  interests  is  even  more  difficult,  for  inter- 
ests  are  men  plus  things  ;  only  in  solitude  can  we  discern  the 
gênerai  aspect  of  the  future.  The  Protestantism  that  is  de- 
vouring  you  will  be  devoured  in  its  turn  by  its  practical  out- 
come,  which,  in  its  day,  will  become  a  theor}'  too.  Europe, 
so  far,  has  not  gone  further  than  religion;  to-morrow  it  will 
attack  Eoyalty." 

"Then  the  night  of  Saint-Bartholomew  was  a  great  con- 
ception ?" 

"Yes,  Sire;  for  when  the  people  triumph,  they  will  hâve 
their  Saint-Bartholomew.  When  Religion  and  Eoyalty  are 
swept  away,  the  people  will  attack  the  great,  and  after  the 
great  they  will  fall  upon  the  rich.  Finally,  when  Europe  is 
no  more  than  a  dismembered  herd  of  men  for  lack  of  leaders, 
it  will  be  swallowed  up  by  vulgar  conquerors.  The  world 
has  presented  a  similar  spectacle  twenty  times  before,  and  Eu- 
rope is  beginning  again.  Ideas  devour  the  âges  as  men  are 
devoured  by  their  passions.  When  man  is  cured,  human 
nature  will  cure  itself  perhaps.  Science  is  the  soûl  of  man- 
kind,  and  we  are  its  pontiiîs;  and  those  who  study  the  soûl 
care  but  little  for  the  body." 

"How  far  hâve  you  gone  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"We  move  but  slowly  ;  but  we  never  lose  what  we  hâve  once 
conquered.'* 

"So  you,  in  fact.  are  the  King  of  the  Wizards,"  said 
Charles  IX.,  piqued  at  finding  himself  so  small  a  personage 
in  the  présence  of  this  man. 


mX)  AHOUT  CATIIKUINI':  DE'   MEDIGI 

Tlie  imposing  Ch-aïul  Mastor  of  Ailopts  flashod  a  look  at 
liim  tliat  loft  hiin  tluiiuler-strickon. 

"Vou  arc  tho  Kin^  of  mon,"  ropliotl  hc;  "I  am  tho  King 
of  Idcas.  Bosiiloi?,  if  thoro  woro  roal  wizards,  you  coulJ  uot 
hâve  buniod  them  !"  lie  adiled,  with  a  touch  of  irony.  "We 
too  liave  our  iiiariyrs." 

"But  by  wliat  mcans,"  llu'  Kinfj^  wcnt  on,  "do  you  cast 
nativities?  Tlow  did  you  know  thai  thc  iiia.n  ucar  your  win- 
dow  last  night  was  llie  Kiiig  of  Franco?  What  powor  onablcd 
one  of  your  race  to  forctcll  (o  niy  niolhor  thc  fatc  of  hcr  three 
sons?  Can  you,  tho  Grand  Mastcr  of  the  Ordcr  that  would 
fain  kncad  the  world, — can  you,  I  say,  tell  me  what  the  Queen 
my  niothor  is  thinlving  at  this  moment?" 

'"Yes,  Sire." 

Tlie  answer  was  spokcn  bcfore  Cosmo  could  pull  his 
brother's  coat  to  wam  him. 

"You  know  why  my  brother,  the  King  of  Poland,  is  re- 
tuming  home?" 

"Yes,  Sire." 

"And  why  ?" 

"To  take  your  place." 

"Our  bitterest  enemies  are  our  own  kith  and  kin,"  cried 
the  King,  starting  up  in  a  fury,  and  striding  up  and  down 
the  room.  "Kings  hâve  no  brothcrs,  no  sons,  no  mother! 
Coligny  was  right;  my  exocutioners  arc  in  the  conventicles, 
they  are  at  the  Louvre.  You  are  either  impostors  or  régicides  ! 
— Jacob,  call  in  Solern." 

"My  Lord,"  said  Marie  Touchet,  "the  Euggieri  hâve  your 
Word  of  honor.  You  hâve  chosen  to  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the 
tree  of  knowledgc  ;  do  not  complain  of  its  bittemcss." 

The  King  smiled  with  an  expression  of  deep  contempt  ;  his 
material  sovereignty  seemcd  small  in  his  eyes  in  comparison 
with  the  suprême  intellectuel  sovereignty  of  old  Lorenzo  Rug- 
gieri.  Charles  IX.  could  scarcely  govern  France  ;  the  Grand 
Master  of  the  Rosicrucians  commanded  an  intelligent  and 
submissive  people. 

"Be  f rank  ;  I  give  you  my  word  as  a  gentleman  that  your 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MBDICI  301 

reply,  even  if  it  should  contain  the  avowal  of  the  worst  crimes, 
shall  be  as  though  it  had  never  been  spoken,"  the  King  said. 
"Do  you  study  poisons  ?" 

"To  know  what  will  secure  life,  it  is  needful  to  know  what 
will  cause  death." 

"You  hâve  the  secret  of  many  poisons  ?" 

"Yes,  but  in  theory  only,  and  not  in  practice;  we  know 
them,  but  do  not  use  them." 

"Has  my  mother  asked  for  any  ?" 

"ïhe  Queen-mother,  Sire,  is  far  too  clever  to  hâve  recourse 
to  such  means.  She  knows  that  the  sovereign  who  uses  poi- 
son shall  perish  by  poison;  the  Borgias,  and  Bianca,  Grand 
Duchess  of  Tuscany,  are  celebrated  esaniples  of  the  dangers 
incurred  by  those  who  use  such  odious  means.  At  Court 
everything  is  known.  You  can  kill  a  poor  wretch  outright; 
of  what  use,  then,  is  it  to  poison  him?  But  if  you  attempt 
the  life  of  conspicuous  persons,  what  chance  is  there  of  se- 
crecy?  Nobody  could  hâve  fired  at  Coligny  but  you,  or  the 
Queen-mother,  or  one  of  the  Guises.  No  one  made  any  mis- 
take  about  that.  Take  my  word  for  it,  in  politics  poison  can- 
not  be  used  twice  with  impunity;  princes  always  hâve  suc- 
cessors. 

"As  to  smaller  men,  if,  like  Luther,  they  become  sovereigns 
by  the  power  of  ideas,  by  killing  them  you  do  not  kill  their 
doctrine. — The  Queen  is  a  Florentine;  she  knows  that  poi- 
son can  only  be  the  instrument  of  private  vengeance.  My 
brother,  who  has  never  left  her  since  she  came  to  France, 
knows  how  deeply  Madame  Diane  aggrieved  her;  she  never 
thought  of  poisoning  her,  and  she  could  hâve  donc  so.  What 
would  the  King  your  father  bave  said?  No  woman  would 
bave  been  more  thoroughly  justified,  or  more  certain  of  im- 
punity.    But  Madame  de  Yalentinois  is  alive  to  this  day." 

"And  the  magie  of  wax  images  ?"  asked  the  King. 

"Sire,"  said  Cosmo,  "thèse  figures  are  so  entirely  innocuous 
that  we  lend  ourselves  to  such  magie  to  satisfy  blind  pas- 
sions, like  physicians  who  give  bread  pills  to  persons  who 
fancy  themselves  sick.     A  desperate  woman  imagines  that 


n02  AnOTTT  CATHERINE  DE'  IMEDICI 

by  stnbbing  tbo  bcnrt  o(  nn  imnpo  slio  hrings  disnsi(^r  on  the 
faitblcss  lover  il  reprcscnts.  Wlial  can  \vc  sa}'?  Thcsc  are 
our  taxes." 

"Tbe  Tope  solls  indtilgoncos,"  said  Loreiizo  lîiiggicri,  sniil- 
ing. 

"Does  my  mothcr  makc  use  of  siich  images?" 

"Of  what  use  would  such  futile  nicans  be  to  hcr  who  can 
do  what  shc  will  ?" 

"Could  Queen  Catherine  save  you  at  this  moment?"  asked 
Charles  ominously. 

"We  are  in  no  danger,  Sire,"  said  Lorenzo  calnily.  "I 
knew  before  I  entered  this  house  that  I  should  leave  it  safe 
and  Sound,  as  surely  as  T  know  the  ill-fceling  that  the  King 
will  bear  my  brother  a  few  days  hcnce;  but,  even  if  lie  should 
run  some  risk,  lie  will  triuniph.  Tliough  the  King  reigns  by 
the  sword,  he  also  reigns  by  justice,"  he  addcd,  in  allusion  to 
the  famous  motto  on  a  medal  struck  for  Charles  IX. 

"You  know  everything;  I  shall  die  before  long,  and  that 
is  well,"  returncd  the  King,  hiding  his  wrath  under  feverish 
impatience.  "But  how  will  my  brother  die,  who,  according 
to  you,  is  to  be  Henri  III.?" 

"A  violent  death." 

"And  Monsieur  d'Alençon?" 

"He  will  never  reign." 

"Then  Henri  de  Bourbon  will  be  King?" 

"Yes,  Sire." 

"And  what  death  will  he  die  ?" 

"A  violent  death." 

"And  when  I  am  dead,  what  will  become  of  madame?" 
asked  the  King,  turning  to  !Marie  Touchet. 

"Madame  de  Belleville  will  marry,  Sire." 

"You  are  impostors  ! — Send  them  away,  my  Lord,"  said 
Marie  Touchet. 

"Dear  heart,  the  Kuggieri  hâve  my  word  as  a  gentleman, 
said  Charles,  smiling.    "Will  Marie  bave  children?" 

"Yes — and  madame  will  live  to  be  more  than  eighty." 

^'Must  I  havc  them  hanged?"  said  the  King  to  his  mis 


>} 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  308 

tress. — "And  my  son,  the  Comte  d'Auvergne?"  said  Charles, 
rising  to  fetch  the  child. 

"Whv  did  you  tell  him  that  I  should  marry?"  said  Marie 
Touchet  to  the  two  brothcrs  during  the  few  moments  when 
they  were  alone. 

"Madame,"  replied  Lorenzo  with  dignity,  "the  King  re- 
quired  us  to  tell  the  truth,  and  we  told  it." 

"Then  it  is  true  ?"  said  she. 

"As  true  as  that  the  Governor  of  Orléans  loves  you  to  dis- 
traction." 

"But  I  do  not  love  him,"  cried  she. 

"That  is  true,  madame,"  said  Lorenzo.  "But  your  horo- 
scope shows  that  you  are  to  marry  the  man  who  at  this  prés- 
ent loves  you." 

"Could  you  not  tell  a  little  lie  for  my  sake  ?"  said  she  v? ith 
a  smile.    "For  if  the  King  should  believe  your  forecast " 

"Is  it  not  necessary  that  he  should  believe  in  our  inno- 
cence?" said  Cosmo,  with  a  glance  full  of  meaning.  "The 
précautions  taken  by  the  King  against  us  hâve  given  us  rea- 
son,  during  the  time  we  spent  in  your  pretty  jail,  to  suppose 
that  the  occult  sciences  must  hâve  been  maligned  in  his  ears." 

"Be  quite  easy,"  replied  Marie;  "I  know  him,  and  his 
doubts  are  dispelled." 

"We  are  innocent,"  said  the  old  man  haughtily. 

"So  much  the  better;  for  at  this  moment  the  King  is  hav- 
ing  your  laboratory  searched  and  your  crucibles  and  phials 
examined  by  experts." 

The  brothers  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled. 

Marie  took  this  smile  for  the  irony  of  innocence;  but  it 
meant  :  "Poor  simpletons  !  Do  you  suppose  that  if  we  know 
how  to  prépare  poisons,  we  do  not  also  know  how  to  conceal 
them?" 

"Where  are  the  King's  people,  then  ?"  asked  Cosmo. 

"In  Eené's  house,"  replied  Marie;  and  the  Euggieri  ex- 
changed  a  glance  which  conveyed  from  each  to  each  the  same 
thought,  "The  Hôtel  de  Soissons  is  inviolable  !" 

The  King  had  so  completely  thrown  off  his  suspicions,  that 


304  ABOUT  CATIIKRINE  DE'   MEDICI 

whcn  he  wont  to  fotch  his  son,  ami  .I;u'(il)  intorcoptcd  him  to 
givc  him  a  note  written  by  Chapelain,  ho  oponcd  it  in  the  ccr- 
tainty  of  fnuling  in  it  wliat  his  physician  told  him  cnncom- 
ing  liis  visit  to  the  hiboratory,  where  ail  that  liad  been  dis- 
covered  bore  solely  on  aleluMny. 

"Will  he  live  happy?"  asked  the  King,  showing  his  infant 
son  to  the  two  alchemists. 

"This  is  Cosmo's  concorn,"  said  Lorcnzo,  turning  to  his 
brothcr. 

Cosmo  took  the  child's  liltle  hand  and  studied  it  carofully, 

"Monsieur,"  said  Charles  IX.  to  the  clder  man,  "if  you 
are  eompelled  to  dcny  the  existence  of  the  spirit  to  believc 
that  your  enterprise  is  possible,  tell  me  how  it  is  that  you 
can  doubt  that  which  constitutcs  your  power.  The  mind 
you  désire  to  amiihilatc  is  the  toreh  that  ilhimincs  your 
search.  Ah,  ha  !  Is  not  that  nioving  while  denying  the  fact 
of  motion  ?"  cried  he,  and  pleased  at  having  hit  on  this  argu- 
ment, he  looked  triumphantly  at  his  mistress. 

"Mind,"  said  Lorenzo  lluggieri,  "is  the  exercise  of  an  in- 
ternai sensé,  just  as  the  faculty  of  seeing  varions  objects  and 
appreciating  their  form  and  color  is  the  exercise  of  our  sight. 
That  has  nothing  to  do  with  what  is  assumed  as  to  another 
life.  Mind — thought — is  a  faculty  which  may  cease  even  dur- 
ing  life  with  the  forces  that  produce  it." 

"You  are  logical,"  said  the  King  with  surprise.  "But 
alchemy  is  an  atheistical  science." 

"Materialist,  Sire,  which  is  quito  a  différent  thing.  Ma- 
terialism  is  the  outcome  of  the  Indian  doctrines  transmitted 
through  the  mysteries  of  Isis  to  Chaldœa  and  Egypt,  and 
brought  back  to  Greece  by  Pythagoras,  one  of  the  demi-gods 
among  men;  his  doctrine  of  transmigration  is  the  mathe- 
matics  of  materialism,  the  living  law  of  its  phases.  Each 
of  the  différent  créations  which  make  up  the  earthly  création 
possesses  the  power  of  retarding  the  impulse  that  drags  it  into 
another  form." 

"Then  alchemy  is  the  science  of  sciences  !"  cried  Charles 
IX.,  fired  with  enthusiasm.    "I  must  see  you  at  work." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  305 


«1 


'As  often  as  you  will,  Sire.  You  cannot  be  more  eager 
than  the  Queen  your  mother." 

"Ah!  That  is  why  she  is  so  mueh  attached  to  you!" 
eried  the  King. 

"The  House  of  Medici  has  secretly  encouraged  our  re- 
search  for  almost  a  century  past." 

"Sire,"  said  Cosmo,  "this  child  will  live  nearly  a  hundred 
years;  he  will  meet  with  some  checks,  but  ^àll  be  happy  and 
honored,  having  in  his  veins  the  blood  of  the  Valois." 

"I  will  go  to  see  you/'  said  the  King,  wbo  had  recovered 
his  good  humor.    "You  can  go." 

The  brothers  bowed  to  Marie  and  Charles  IX.  and  with- 
drew.  They  solemnly  descended  the  stairs,  neither  looking 
at  each  other  nor  speaJcing;  they  did  not  eveoi  turn  to  look 
up  at  the  wdndows  from  the  courtyard,  so  sure  were  they  that 
the  King's  eye  was  on  them  ;  and,  in  f act,  as  they  turned  to 
pass  through  the  gâte,  they  saw  Charles  IX.  at  a  window. 

As  soon  as  the  alchemist  and  the  astrologer  were  in  the 
Eue  de  l'Autruche,  they  cast  a  look  in  front  and  behind  to 
see  that  no  one  was  either  following  them  or  waiting  for 
them,  and  went  on  as  far  as  the  Louvre  moat  without  speak- 
ing  a  Word;  but  there,  finding  that  they  were  alone,  Lorenzo 
said  to  Cosmo  in  the  Florentine  Italian  of  the  time  : 

"Affè  d'Iddio!  como  le  abbiamo  infinocchiato !"  (By  God, 
we  hâve  caught  them  finely  !  ) 

"Gran  mercés!  a  lui  sta  di  spariojarsi" — (Much  good  may 
it  do  him;  he  must  make  what  he  can  of  it) — said  Cosmo. 
"May  the  Queen  do  as  much  for  me  !  We  hâve  done  a  good 
stroke  for  her." 

Some  days  after  this  scène,  which  had  struck  Marie 
Touchet  no  less  than  the  King,  in  one  of  those  moments  when 
in  the  fulness  of  joy  the  mind  is  in  some  sort  released  from 
the  body,  Marie  exclaimed  : 

"Charles,  I  understand  Lorenzo  Ruggieri;  but  Cosmo  said 
nothing." 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  King,  startled  by  this  sudden  flash 


300  ABOUT  CATIIEHINE  DE'  MEniOI 

of  light,  "and  IIumv  was  as  iinu'h  falsrliood  as  tnilh  in  what 
thoy  said.  Those  Italians  iwc  as  slippery  as  llie  silk  they 
epin." 

This  suspicion  oxplains  the  hatrcd  of  Cosmo  that  the  King 
botrayod  on  tho  occasion  of  the  trial  on  the  conspiracy  of 
la  Mole  and  Coconnas.  Whcn  lie  foiind  that  Cosnio  was 
one  of  the  contrivers  of  that  plot,  the  Kint;  believed  hiniself 
duped  by  the  two  Italiaiis  ;  for  il  provcd  to  liiiii  that  hia 
niother's  astrologer  did  not  dévote  himself  exclusively  to 
studying  the  stars,  fulniinating  powder  and  fhial  atoms.  Lo- 
renzo  had  then  left  tlie  country. 

In  spite  of  many  persons'  incredulity  of  such  things,  the 
events  which  foUowed  this  scène  confinned  the  prophecies 
uttered  by  the  Ruggieri. 

The  King  died  three  nionths  later.  The  Comte  de  Gondi 
followed  Charles  IX.  to  the  tonib,  as  he  had  been  told  that 
he  would  by  his  brother,  the  Maréchal  de  Retz,  a  friend  of 
the  Ruggieri,  and  a  believer  in  their  foresight. 

Marie  Touehet  married  Charles  de  Balzac,  Marquis  d'En- 
tragues,  Governor  of  Orléans,  by  whom  she  had  two  daugh- 
ters.  The  more  famous  of  thèse  two,  the  Comte  d'Auvergne's 
half-sister,  was  Henri  IV.'s  mistress,  and  at  the  time  of 
Biron's  conspiracy  tried  to  place  her  brother  on  the  throne 
of  France  and  oust  the  Bourbons. 

The  Comte  d'Auvergne,  made  Duc  d'Angoulême,  lived  till 
the  reign  of  Louis  XIV.  He  coined  money  in  his  province, 
altering  the  superscription;  but  Louis  XIV.  did  not  inter- 
fère, so  great  was  his  respect  for  the  blood  of  the  Valois. 

Cosmo  lived  till  after  the  accession,  of  Louis  XIII.  ;  he 
saw  the  fall  of  the  House  of  Medici  in  France,  and  the  over- 
throw  of  the  Concini.  History  has  taken  care  ta  record  that 
he  died  an  atheist — that  is  to  say,  a  materialist. 

The  Marquise  d'Entragues  was  more  than  eighty  when  she 
died. 

Lorenzo  and  Cosmo  had  for  their  disciple  the  famous 
Comte  de  Saint-Germain,  who  became  notorious  under 
Louis  XV.    The  great  alchemist  was  not  less  than  a  hundred 


ABOUT  CATHEKINE  DE'  MEDICI  807 

and  thirty  years  old,  the  âge  to  which  some  biographers  say 
Marion  Delorme  attained.  The  Count  may  hâve  heard  from 
the  Ruggieri  anecdotes  of  the  Massacre  of  Saint-Bartholomew 
and  of  the  reigns  of  the  Valois,  in  whicb  they  could  at  pleas- 
ure  assume  a  part  by  speaking  in  the  first  person.  The  Comte 
de  Saint-Germain  is  the  last  professer  of  alchemy  who  ex- 
plained  the  science  "well,  but  he  left  no  writings.  The  doc- 
trine of  the  Cabala  set  forth  in  this  volume  was  derived  from 
that  mysterious  personage. 

It  is  a  strange  thing!  Three  men's  livee,  that  of  the  old 
man  from  whom  this  information  was  obtained,  that  of  the 
Comte  de  Saint-Germain,  and  that  of  Cosmo  Ruggieri,  em- 
brace  European  Mstory  from  the  reign  of  Francis  I.  to  that 
of  Napoléon.  Only  fifty  lives  of  equal  length  would  cover  the 
time  to  as  far  back  as  the  first  known  epoch  of  the  world. — 
*'What  are  fifty  générations  for  stud}ang  the  mysteries  of 
life  ?'  the  Comte  de  Saint-Germain  used  to  say. 

Paris,  November-December  1836. 


sas  AHOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 


PART  m 

THE  TWO  DREAM8 

In  178G  Bodard  de  Saint-James,  treasurer  to  the  Navy,  waa 
of  ail  the  iuianeiers  of  l'aris  the  one  vvliose  luxury  gave  rise 
to  most  reinark  and  gossip.  At  lliat  tinio  lie  was  building 
his  fanions  Folhj  at  Neuilly,  and  his  wife  bought,  to  crown 
the  tester  of  her  bed,  a  plume  of  feathers  of  wliich  the  priée 
had  dismayed  the  Queen.  It  was  far  easier  then  than  now 
to  make  oneself  the  fashion  and  be  talked  of  by  ail  Paris; 
a  wittieism  was  often  quite  enough,  or  the  caprice  of  a 
woman. 

Bodard  lived  in  the  fine  house  in  the  Place  Vendôme  which 
the  farmer-general  Dangé  had  not  long  since  been  compelled 
to  quit.  This  noterions  Epicurean  was  lately  dead;  and  on 
the  day  when  he  was  buried.  Monsieur  de  Bièvre,  his  intimate 
friend,  had  found  matter  for  a  jest,  saying  that  now  one  could 
cross  the  Place  Vendôme  without  danger  (or  Dangé).  This 
allusion  to  the  terrifie  gambling  that  went  on  in  the  de- 
ceased  man's  house  was  his  funeral  oration.  The  house  la 
that  opposite  to  the  Chancellerie. 

To  complète  Bodard's  history  as  briefly  as  possible,  he  waa 
a  poor  créature,  he  failed  for  fourteen  millions  of  franca 
after  the  Prince  de  Guéménée.  His  clumsiness  in  not  antici- 
pating  that  Serene  bankruptcy — to  use  an  expression  of 
Lebrun-Pindare's — led  to  his  never  even  being  mentioned. 
He  died  in  a  garret,  like  Bourvalais,  Bouret,  and  many  others. 

Madame  de  Saint-James  indulged  an  ambition  of  never 
receiving  any  but  people  of  quality — a  stale  absurdity  that 
is  ever  new.  To  her  the  cap  of  a  lawyer  in  the  Parlement 
was  but  a  small  affair;  she  wanted  to  see  her  rooms  fîlled  with 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  309 

persons  of  title  who  had  at  least  the  minor  privilèges  of 
entrée  at  Versailles.  To  say  that  many  blue  ribbons  were  to 
be  seen  in  the  lady's  house  woiild  be  untrue;  but  it  is  quite 
certain  that  she  had  succeeded  in  winning  the  civility  and 
attention  of  some  members  of  the  Eohan  family,  as  was 
proved  subsequently  in  the  too  famous  case  of  the  Queen's 
necklace. 

One  evening — it  was,  I  believe,  in  August  1786 — I  was 
greatly  surprised  to  see  in  this  millionaire's  room,  précise  as 
she  was  in  the  matter  of  proofs  of  rank,  two  new  faces,  which 
stnick  me  as  being  of  decidedly  inferior  birth. 

She  came  up  to  me  as  I  stood  in  a  window  recess,  where 
I  had  intentionally  ensconced  myself. 

"Do  tell  me,"  said  I,  with  a  questioning  glance  at  one  of 
thèse  strangers,  "who  is  that  spécimen?  How  did  he  get 
into  your  house  ?" 

"He  is  a  charming  man." 

"Do  y  ou  see  him  through  the  prism  of  love,  or  am  I  mis- 
taken  in  him?" 

"You  are  not  mistaken,"  she  replied,  laughing;  "he  is  as 
ugly  as  a  toad;  but  he  has  donc  me  the  greatest  service  a 
woman  can  accept  from  a  man." 

As  I  looked  at  her  with  mischievous  meaning,  she  hastened 
to  add:  "He  has  entirely  cured  me  of  the  ugly  red  patches 
which  spoiled  my  complexion  and  made  me  look  like  a  peas- 
ant  woman." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  with  disgust. 

"A  quack  !"  I  exclaimed. 

"Xo,"  said  she,  'Tie  is  a  physician  to  the  Court  pages.  He 
is  clever  and  amusing,  I  assure  you  ;  and  he  has  written  books 
too.    He  is  a  very  leamed  physicist." 

"If  his  literary  style  is  Ûke  his  face  ! "  said  I,  smiling. 

"And  the  other?" 

"What  other?" 

"That  little  prim  man,  as  neat  as  a  doll,  and  who  looks  as 

if  he  drank  verjuice." 

"He  is  a  man  of  good  family,"  said  she.     "He  has  corne 
20 


nlO  AROt^T  CATIIKIUNIO  DE'  MEDICI 

from  sonic  province — I  for-^ot  whicli. — Ali  !  yos,  f rom  Artois. 
Ile  is  in  Paris  to  wiiul  u|)  somc  afTair  lliat  conceriLs  the  Car- 
dinal, and  Mis  Kininciur  lias  just  inlroducrd  liiiii  to  Monsieur 
de  iSaint-. laines.  Tliey  hâve  agretnl  in  choosing  Monsieur  de 
Saint-.hunes  to  be  arbilrator.  In  that  the  j,^entleinan  froiii 
the  provinws  lias  net  sliown  inueh  wisdoni.  VVhat  are  iieo- 
ple  thinking  of  wlien  tliey  place  a  case  in  Ihat  inairs  hands? 
He  is  as  gentle  as  a  lanib,  and  as  shy  as  a  girl.  llia  Emi- 
nonce  is  most  kind  to  liiiii." 

"What  is  it  about?"  said  I. 

"Three  hundred  thousand  livres,"  said  she. 

"What!  a  lawyer?"  I  asked,  with  a  little  start  of  astonish- 
ment. 

"Yes,"  rcplicd  she. 

And,  soinewhat  disturbcd  by  having  to  makc  this  humiliat- 
ing  confession,  Madame  Bodard  returned  to  lier  gaine  of  faro. 

Every  table  was  made  up.  I  had  notliing  to  do  or  to 
say.  I  had  just  lost  two  thousand  crowns  to  Monsieur  de 
Laval,  whom  I  had  met  in  a  courtesan's  drawing-room.  I 
went  to  takc  a  seat  in  a  deep  chair  near  the  fire.  If  ever  on 
this  earth  there  was  an  astonished  man,  it  certainly  was  I 
on  discovering  that  iny  opposite  neighbor  was  the  Controller- 
General.  Monsieur  de  Calonne  seemed  to  be  drowsy,  or  else 
he  veas  absorbed  in  one  of  those  brown  studies  which  corne 
over  a  statesman.  When  I  pointcd  ont  the  Minister  to  Beau- 
marchais, who  came  to  speak  to  me,  the  creator  of  Figaro 
explained  the  mystcry  without  speaking  a  word.  He  pointed 
first  to  my  head  and  then  to  Bodard's  in  an  ingeniously  sig- 
nificant  way,  by  directing  his  thumb  to  one  and  his  little 
finger  to  the  other,  with  the  rest  of  the  fingers  closed.  My 
first  impulse  was  to  go  and  say  something  sharp  to  Calonne, 
but  I  sat  still;  in  the  first  place,  because  I  intended  to  play 
the  favorite  a  trick,  and  also  because  Beaumarchais  had  some- 
what  familiarly  seized  my  hand. 

*^hat  is  it,  monsieur?"  said  I. 

With  a  wink  he  indicated  the  Minister. 

"Do  not  wake  him,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone;  "we  may  be 
only  too  thankful  vi'hen  he  sleeps." 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  311 

"But  even  sleeping  is  a  scheme  of  finance,"  said  I. 

"Certainly  it  is,"  replied  the  statesman,  who  had  read  our 
words  by  the  mère  motion  of  our  lips.  "And  would  to  God 
we  could  sleep  a  long  time;  there  would  not  be  such  an 
awakening  as  you  will  see  !" 

"Monseigneur,"  said  the  play-writer,  "I  owe  you  some 
thaaks." 

"What  for?" 

"Monsieur  de  Mirabeau  is  gone  to  Berlin.  I  do  not  know 
whether  in  this  matter  of  the  Waters  we  may  not  both  be 
drowned." 

"You  hâve  too  much  memory  and  too  little  gratitude," 
replied  the  Minister  drily,  vexed  at  this  betrayal  of  one  of  his 
secrets  before  me. 

"Very  possibly,"  said  Beaumarchais,  greatly  nettled.  "But 
I  hâve  certain  millions  which  may  square  many  accounts." 
Calonne  affected  not  to  hâve  heard. 

It  was  half-past  twelve  before  the  card-tables  broke  up. 
Then  we  sat  down  to  supper — ten  of  us  :  Bodard  and  his  wif  e, 
the  Controller-General,  Beaumarchais,  the  two  strangers,  two 
pretty  women  whose  names  may  not  be  mentioned,  and  a 
farmer-general  named,  I  think,  Lavoisier.  Of  thirty  persons 
whom  I  had  found  on  entering  the  drawing-room  but  thèse 
ten  remained.  And  the  two  "spécimens"  would  only  stay  to 
supper  on  the  pressing  invitation  of  the  lady  of  the  house, 
who  thought  she  could  discharge  her  debt  to  one  by  giving 
him  a  meal,  and  asked  the  other  perhaps  to  please  her  hus- 
band,  to  whom  she  was  doing  the  civil — wherefore  I  know 
not.  Monsieur  de  Calonne  was  a  power,  and  if  any  one  had 
cause  to  be  annoyed  it  would  hâve  been  I. 

The  supper  was  at  first  deadly  dull.  The  two  men  and 
the  farmer-general  weighed  on  us.  I  signed  to  Beaumar- 
chais to  make  the  son  of  Esculapius,  by  whom  he  was  sitting, 
drink  till  he  was  tipsy,  giving  him  to  understand  that  I  would 
deal  with  the  lawyer.  As  this  was  the  only  kind  of  amuse- 
ment open  to  us,  and  as  it  gave  promise  of  some  blundering 
impertinence  on  the  part  of  the  two  strangers,  which  amused 


:\]2  AHOUT  CA'riiKRiM:  in:   .Mi:i)ici 

us  hy  anticipation,  Monsieur  de  CaloiinL'  siuiled  ou  the 
scheiui'.  In  Iwo  seconds  ihc  hulics  liad  onlcrcd  into  our 
Bacchio  plot.  Rv  signilicant  ^lances  Ihcy  expressod  tlu'ir 
rcadincss  to  j)lay  tlicir  })art,  and  the  wine  of  Sillcry  crowned 
our  glasses  again  and  again  \vi(h  silvery  foani.  Tlie  surgeon 
was  easy  enough  to  deal  with;  but  as  1  was  about  to  {)our  out 
my  neighbor's  second  glass,  he  told  me  with  the  cold  polite- 
ness  of  a  niouey-lender  that  he  would  drink  no  niorc. 

At  this  time,  by  what  chance  1  know  not,  Madame  de  Saint- 
James  had  turned  the  conversation  on  the  wonderful  suppers 
to  the  Comte  de  Cagliostro,  given  by  the  Cardinal  de  Rohan. 
My  attention  was  not  too  keenly  alive  to  what  the  mistress  of 
the  house  was  saying  ;  for  since  hcr  rcply  I  had  watched,  with 
invincible  curiosity,  my  neighbor's  pinched,  thin  face,  of 
which  the  principal  feature  was  a  nose  at  once  wide  and  sharp, 
which  made  him  at  times  look  very  like  a  ferret.  Suddenly 
his  cheeks  llushed  as  he  heard  Madame  de  Saint-James  dis- 
puting  with  Monsieur  de  Galonné. 

"But  I  assure  you,  monsieur,"  said  she  in  a  positive  tone, 
"that  I  hâve  seen  Queen  Cleopatra." 

"I  believe  it,  madame,"  said  my  neighbor.  "I  hâve  spoken 
to  Catherine  de'  Medici." 

"Oh  !  oh  !''  said  Monsieur  de  Galonné. 

The  words  spoken  by  the  little  provincial  had  an  inde- 
scribably  sonorous  tone — to  use  a  word  borrowed  from 
physical  science.  This  sudden  clearness  of  enunciation,  from 
a  man  who  till  now  had  spoken  very  little  and  very  low,  in 
the  best  possible  taste,  surprised  us  in  the  highest  degree. 

"Why,  he  is  talking  !"  exclaimed  the  surgeon,  whom  Beau- 
marchais had  worked  up  to  a  satisfactory  condition. 

"His  neighbor  must  hâve  touched  a  spring,"  replied  the 
satirist. 

Our  man  colored  a  little  as  he  heard  thèse  words,  though 
they  were  spoken  in  a  murmur. 

"And  what  was  the  late  lamented  Queen  like?"  asked 
Galonné. 

"I  will  not  assert  that  the  person  with  whom  I  supped  last 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  313 

night  was  Catherine  de'  Medici  herself  ;  such  a  miracle  must 
seem  as  impossible  to  a  Christian  as  to  a  philosopher,"  re- 
plied  the  lawyer,  resting  his  finger-tips  lightly  on  the  table, 
and  leaning  back  in  his  chair  as  if  preparing  to  speak  at  some 
length.  "But,  at  any  rate,  I  can  swear  that  that  woman  was 
as  like  to  Catherine  de'  Medici  as  though  they  had  been  sis- 
ters.  The  lady  I  saw  wore  a  black  velvet  dress,  absolutely 
like  that  which  the  Queen  is  wearing  in  the  portrait  belong- 
ing  to  the  King  ;  on  her  head  was  the  characteristic  black  vel- 
vet cap;  her  complexion  was  colorless,  and  her  face  the  face 
you  know.  I  could  not  help  expressing  my  surprise  to  His 
Eminence.  The  suddenness  of  the  apparition  was  ail  the 
more  wonderful  because  Monsieur  le  Comte  de  Cagliostro 
could  not  guess  the  name  of  the  personage  in  whose  company 
I  wished  to  be.  I  was  utterly  amazed.  The  magical  spec- 
tacle of  a  supper  where  such  illustrions  women  of  the  past 
were  the  guests  robbed  me  of  my  présence  of  mind.  When,  at 
about  midnight,  I  got  away  from  this  scène  of  witchcraft, 
I  almost  doubted  my  own  identity. 

"But  ail  thèse  marvels  seemed  quite  natural  by  comparison 
with  the  strange  hallucination  under  which  I  was  presently 
to  fall.  I  know  not  what  words  I  can  use  to  describe  the  con- 
dition of  my  sensés.  But  I  can  déclare,  in  ail  sincerity  of 
heart,  that  I  no  longer  wonder  that  there  should  bave  been, 
of  old,  spirits  weak  enough — or  strong  enough — to  believe  in 
the  mysteries  of  magie  and  the  power  of  the  Devil.  For  my 
part,  till  I  hâve  ampler  information,  I  regard  the  apparitions 
of  which  Cardan  and  certain  other  thaumaturgists  hâve 
spoken  as  quite  possible." 

Thèse  words,  pronounced  with  incredible  éloquence  of  tone, 
were  of  a  nature  to  rouse  extrême  curiosity  in  those  présent. 
Our  looks  ail  centered  on  the  orator,  and  we  sat  motionless. 
Our  eyes  alone  showed  life  as  they  refleeted  the  bright  wax 
lights  in  the  candlesticks.  By  dint  of  watching  the  stranger, 
we  fancied  we  could  see  an  émanation  from  the  pores  of  his 
face,  and  especially  from  those  of  his  brow,  of  the  inner  feel- 
ings  that  wholly  possessed  hira.     This  man,  apparently  so 


814  AIU)1;T  c:A  rilDKINlO  DK'   MKDICI 

col(]  and  slrictly  rosorvoil,  soomod  to  ]m\v  \\  itliiii  liiiii  m  liiddon 
fire,  of  wliii'h  thr  flaiiu'  caino  forth  to  us. 

"I  know  not,"  he  wont  on,  "wlicthcr  tlio  fl^nire  1  liaJ  spon 
callod  11])  inado  itself  invisible  to  follow  me;  but  as  sooa 
as  I  had  laid  niy  in'ad  on  niy  pillow,  1  saw  tlio  <:jrand  sbade 
of  Catherine  rise  hcforo  nie.  1  instinctively  felt  niyself  in 
a  luniinous  sphère;  for  niy  eyes,  alfracted  to  the  Quecn  with 
painful  iixity,  saw  hor  alone.  Suddenly  slio  bent  over 
me " 

At  thèse  words  thc  ladics  with  one  consent  bctraycd  kcener 
curiosity. 

"But,"  said  the  la\v}'er,  "I  do  not  know  whether  I  ought 
to  go  on  ;  although  T  am  inolined  to  think  that  it  was  but  a 
dreani,  what  reniains  to  be  told  is  scrious." 

"Does  it  bear  on  religion?"  asked  Beaumarchais. 

"Or  is  it  in  any  way  indécent?"  askcd  Galonné.  "Thèse 
ladies  will  forgive  it." 

"It  bcars  on  government,"  repliod  the  lawycr. 

"Go  on,"  said  the  Ministcr.  "Voltaire,  Diderot,  and  thcir 
like  hâve  donc  much  to  educato  our  ears." 

The  Controller-General  was  ail  attention,  and  his  neighbor. 
Madame  de  Genlis,  became  absorbed.  The  stranger  still  hesi- 
tated.    Then  Beaumarchais  exclaimed  impetuously  : 

"Come,  procecd,  ^faître  !  Do  not  you  know  that  when  the 
laws  leave  folks  so  little  liberty,  people  revenge  themselves  by 
laxity  of  manners?" 

So  the  lawyer  went  on: 

"Whether  it  was  that  certain  ideas  were  fermenting  in  my 
soûl,  or  that  I  was  prompted  by  sorpe  unknown  power,  I  said 
to  her: 

'Ah,  madame,  you  committed  a  very  great  crime.' 
^Yhich?'  she  askcd  in  a  deep  voice. 

'That  for  which  the  signal  was  given  by  the  Palace  clock 
on  the  24th  of  August.' 

"She  smiled  scornfully,  and  some  deep  furrows  showed  on 
her  pallid  cheeks. 

"  'Do  you  call  that  a  crime  ?'  replied  she  ;  'it  was  only  an 


te 
«  <r 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  315 

accident.  The  undertaking  was  badly  managed,  and  the  good 
resuit  we  looked  for  failed — for  France,  for  ail  Europe,  and 
for  the  Catholic  Church.  How  could  we  help  it  ?  Our  orders 
were  badly  carried  out.  We  could  not  fînd  so  many  Montlucs 
as  we  needed.  Posterity  will  not  give  us  crédit  for  the  defec- 
tive  communications  which  hindered  us  from  giving  our  work 
the  unity  of  impulse  which  is  necessary  to  any  grcat  Coup 
d'État;  that  was  our  misfortune.  If  by  the  25th  of  August 
not  the  shadow  of  a  Huguenot  had  been  left  in  France,  I 
should  hâve  been  regarded  to  the  remotest  posterity  as  a 
noble  incarnation  of  Providence.  How  often  hâve  the  clear- 
seeing  spirits  of  Sixtus  V.,  of  Richelieu,  of  Bossuet,  secretly 
accused  me  of  having  failed  in  my  undertaking,  after  daring 
to  conceive  of  it  !     And  how  many  regrets  attended  my  death  ! 

"  'The  disease  was  still  rife  thirty  years  after  that  Saint- 
Bartholomew's  night;  and  it  had  caused  the  shedding  of  ten 
times  more  noble  blood  in  France  than  was  left  to  be  shed 
on  August  26,  1572.  The  re vocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes, 
for  which  you  had  medals  struck,  cost  more  tears,  more  blood 
and  money,  and  killed  more  prosperity  in  France  than  three 
Saint-Bartholomews.  Letellier,  with  a  dip  of  ink,  carried 
into  effect  the  decree  which  the  Crown  had  secretly  desired 
since  my  day;  but  though  on  August  25,  1572,  this  tremen- 
dous  exécution  was  necessary,  on  August  25,  1685,  it  was 
useless.  Under  Henri  de  Valois'  second  son  heresy  was 
scarcely  pregnant;  under  Henri  de  Bourbon's  second  son 
the  teeming  mother  had  cast  her  spawn  over  the  whole  world. 

"  'You  accuse  me  of  crime,  and  you  raise  statues  to  the  son 
of  Anne  of  Austria!  But  he  and  I  aimed  at  the  same  end. 
He  succeeded  ;  I  failed  ;  but  Louis  XIV.  f ound  the  Protestants 
disarmed,  while  in  my  day  they  had  powerful  armies,  states- 
men,  captains,  and  Germany  to  back  them.' 

"On  hearing  thèse  words  slowly  spoken,  I  felt  within  me  a 
tremulous  thrill.  I  seemed  to  scent  the  blood  of  I  know 
not  what  victims.  Catherine  had  grown  before  me.  She 
stood  there  like  an  evil  genius,  and  I  felt  as  if  she  wanted 
to  get  into  my  conscience  to  fînd  rest  there " 


31G  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE*  MEDICI 

"ITo  niust  hfivp  droamod  tliat."  said  Boauinarclmis,  in  a 
low  voioe.     "Ho  cortainly  ncvcr  iiivcnti^l  il." 

" 'My  rcason  is  confoiiiKlcd,''  said  1  to  tlic  Quccn.  'You 
pridc  yoursclf  on  an  nctiiMi  wliidi  tlii-ce  gcnorations  hâve 
condonincd  and  lidd  acrurscd,  and ' 

"  'Add,'  said  shc,  Mhat  writors  havc  bccn  moro  iinjust  to  me 
tlian  niy  contcMnporarics  wcro.  No  ono  nnd(M-lakos  my  do- 
fonce.  I  ani  aeensod  of  ambition — I  who  was  so  rich  and 
a  Quocn.  I  ani  taxcd  with  cruelty — I  who  havc  but  two  dé- 
capitations on  my  conscience.  And  to  thc  most  impartial 
minds  I  am  still,  no  doubt,  a  grcat  riddle.  Do  you  roally 
bolieve  that  I  was  govcrncd  by  feelings  of  hatrod,  that  I 
brcathed  only  vengeance  and  fury?'  She  smilcd  scornfully. 
'I  was  as  calm  and  cold  as  Reason  itself.  I  condemned  the 
Huguenots  without  pity,  but  without  anger;  they  were  the 
rotten  orange  in  my  basket.  If  I  had  been  Queen  of  England, 
I  should  bave  judgcd  the  Catholics  in  the  same  way,  if  they 
had  bccn  séditions.  To  give  our  power  any  vitality  at  that 
period,  only  one  God  could  be  allowed  in  the  State,  only 
one  faith  and  one  master.  Happily  for  me,  I  left  my  excuse 
recorded  in  one  sentence.  Whcn  Birague  brought  me  a  false 
report  of  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Dreux — "Well  and  good," 
said  I,  "^then  we  will  go  to  Sermon." — Hâte  the  leaders  of 
the  New  Religion?  I  csteemed  them  highly,  and  I  did  not 
know  them.  If  I  ever  felt  an  aversion  for  any  political  person- 
age,  it  was  for  that  cowardly  Cardinal  de  Lorraine,  and  for 
his  brother,  a  wily  and  brutal  soldicr,  who  had  me  watched 
by  their  spies.  They  were  my  children's  encmies  ;  they  wanted 
to  snatch  the  crown  from  them  ;  I  saw  them  evevy  day,  and 
they  were  more  than  I  could  bear.  If  we  had  not  carried  out 
the  plan  for  Saint-Bartholomew's  Day,  the  Guises  would 
hâve  done  it  with  the  help  of  Rome  and  its  monks.  The 
Ligue,  which  had  no  power  till  I  had  grown  old,  would  hâve 
begun  in  1573.' 

"  'But,  madame,'  said  I,  'instead  of  commanding  that  hor- 
rible butchery — excuse  my  frankness — why  did  you  not  em- 
ploy  the  vast  resources  of  your  political  genius  in  giving  the  . 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  317 

Eeformers  the  wise  institutions  which  raade  Henri  IV.'s  reign 
so  glorious  and  peaceful  ?' 

"She  smiled  again,  shrugging  her  shoulders,  and  her  hollow 
wrinkles  gave  her  pale  features  an  ironical  expression  full  of 
bitterness. 

"  'Af ter  a  furious  struggle  a  nation  needs  repose/  said  she. 
'That  is  the  secret  of  that  reign.  But  Henri  IV.  committed 
two  irrémédiable  blunders.  He  ought  neither  to  hâve  abjured 
Protestantism  nor  to  hâve  left  France  Catholic  after  his  own 
conversion.  He  alone  has  ever  becn  in  a  position  to  change 
the  face  of  France  without  a  shock.  Either  not  a  single  stole, 
or  not  a  single  conventicle  !  That  is  what  he  ought  to  hâve 
seen.  To  leave  two  hostile  principles  at  work  in  a  govern- 
ment  with  nothing  to  balance  thera  is  a  crime  in  a  King;  it 
is  sowing  the  seed  of  révolutions.  It  belongs  to  God  alone 
to  leave  good  and  evil  for  ever  at  odds  in  the  work  of  His 
hand.  But  this  sentence  was  perhaps  inscribed  at  the  founda- 
tions  of  Henri  IV.'s  policy,  and  perhaps  it  was  what  led  to 
his  death.  It  is  impossible  that  Sully  should  not  hâve  cast 
a  covetous  eye  on  the  immense  possessions  of  the  clergy — 
though  the  clergy  were  not  their  sole  masters,  for  the  nobles 
dissipated  at  least  two-thirds  of  the  Church  revenues.  Sully 
the  Eeformer  owned  abbeys  nevertheless.'  She  paused,  to 
think,  as  it  seemed. 

"  'But  does  it  occur  to  you/  said  she,  'that  you  are  asking  a 
Pope's  nièce  her  reason  for  remaining  Catholic?' — Again 
she  paused — 'And,  after  ail,  I  would  just  as  soon  hâve  been 
a  Calvinist,'  she  went  on,  with  a  gesture  of  indiiïerence.  'Can 
the  superior  men  of  your  âge  still  think  that  religion  had 
really  anything  to  do  with  that  great  trial,  the  most  tremen- 
dous  of  those  that  Europe  has  been  required  to  décide — a 
vast  révolution  retarded  by  trivial  causes,  which  will  not  hin- 
der  it  from  overflowing  the  whole  world,  since  I  failed  to  stop 
it. — A  révolution,'  said  she,  with  a  look  of  deep  meaning, 
'which  is  still  progressing,  and  which  you  may  achieve. — Yes, 
You,  who  hear  me  !' 

"I  shuddered. 


r>lS  ABOUT  CATIIEUINE  DIO'   MEDICI 

" 'Wliat  !  lias  uo  ono'yi't  uiuK'rst()oil  tliai  olcl  intrrcsla 
on  ono  liiuul,  and  on  thc  othor  ncw  intercsts,  had  takcn  Home 
Miul  Luther  to  bo  their  standards  of  batUc!  Wliat  !  When 
I>iuis  IX.,  ti)  avoid  a  soinowhat  kindrcd  stnif^^do,  dra^'i^ed 
aftor  hini  a  jio[)ulation  a  himdivd  tinu's  groater  llian  iluit 
1  condoninod  to  doalli,  and  left  tlicm  in  thc  sands  of  J'igypt, 
lio  earnod  the  title  of  Saint,  whilc  1  ! — But  1/  she  addud, 
'failed.' 

"She  lookcd  down  and  Btood  silcut  for  a  minute.  It  waa 
no  longer  a  Quecn  that  1  behekl,  but  rather  one  of  tliose 
Druidessos  of  old  wlio  sacrificed  men,  and  eould  unroll  the 
pages  of  the  future  wliile  exhuming  tlie  lore  of  thc  pa«t.  But 
she  prosently  raised  her  royal  and  majestic  face. 

" 'By  direeting  the  attention  of  the  middle  classes  to  the 
abuses  of  the  Roman  Church,'  said  she,  'Luther  and  Calvin 
gave  birth  in  Europe  to  a  spirit  of  investigation  which  in- 
cvitably  Icd  thc  nations  to  examine  evcry'thing.  Examination 
leads  to  doubt.  Instead  of  the  faith  indispensable  to  social 
existence,  they  brought  in  their  train,  and  long  after  them, 
an  inquisitive  philosophy,  armed  with  hammers,  and  greedy 
of  destruction.  Science,  with  its  false  lights,  sprang  glittering 
from  the  womb  of  heresy.  Keform  in  the  Church  was  not  so 
mnch  what  was  aimed  at  as  the  indefinite  liberty  of  man, 
which  is  fatal  to  power.  I  hâve  seen  that.  The  resuit  of 
the  successes  of  the  Eeformers  in  their  contest  against  the 
priesthood — even  at  that  time  botter  armed  and  more  for- 
midable than  the  Crown — was  the  destruction  of  the  mon- 
archical  power  raised  with  so  mnch  difficulty  by  Louis  XL 
on  the  niins  of  feudality.  Their  aim  was  nothing  less  than 
the  annihilation  of  Eeligion  and  Eoyalty,  and  over  their 
wreck  the  middle  classes  of  ail  lands  were  to  join  in  a  common 
compact.  Thus  this  contest  was  war  to  the  death  between 
thèse  new  allies  and  ancient  laws  and  beliefs.  The  Catholics 
were  the  représentative  expression  of  the  material  interests 
of  the  Crown,  the  Nobility,  and  the  Priesthood. 

"  'It  was  a  duel  to  the  death  between  two  giants  ;  the  night 
of   Saint-Bartholomew   was,   unfortunately,   only   a  wound. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  319 

Eemember  that,  to  save  a  few  drops  of  blood  at  the  right  mo- 
ment, a  torrent  had  to  be  shed  at  a  later  day.  There  is  a  mis- 
fortune  which  the  Intelligence  that  looks  down  on  a  kingdom 
cannot  avert;  that,  namely,  of  having  no  peers  by  whora  to 
be  judged  when  he  succumbs  under  the  burden  of  events. 
My  peers  are  few;  fools  are  in  the  majority;  thèse  two  propo- 
sitions account  for  ever}'thing.  If  my  name  is  held  in  exé- 
cration in  France,  the  inferior  minds  which  constitute  the 
mass  of  every  génération  are  to  blâme. 

"  ^In  such  great  crises  as  I  hâve  been  through,  reigning 
does  not  mean  holding  audience,  reviewing  troops,  and  sign- 
ing  decrees.  I  may  hâve  made  mistakes  ;  I  was  but  a  woman. 
But  why  was  there  no  man  then  living  who  was  superior  to  the 
âge?  The  Duke  of  Alva  had  a  soûl  of  iron,  Philip  II.  was 
stultified  by  Catholic  dogmas,  Henri  IV.  was  a  gambler  and 
a  libertine,  the  Admirai  was  systematically  pig-headed. 
Louis  XI.  had  lived  too  soon;  Richelieu  came  too  late. 
Whether  it  were  virtuous  or  criminal,  whether  the  Massacre 
of  Saint-Bartholomew  is  attributed  to  me  or  no,  I  accept  the 
burden.  I  shall  always  stand  between  those  two  great  men  as 
a  visible  liniv  in  an  unrecognized  chain.  Some  day  paradox- 
ical  writers  will  wonder  whether  nations  hâve  not  sometimes 
given  the  name  of  executioner  to  those  who,  in  fact,  were 
victims.  Not  once  only  will  mankind  be  ready  to  immolate 
a  God  rather  than  accuse  itself  !  You  are  ail  ready  to  shed 
tears  for  two  hundred  louts,  when  you  refuse  them  for  the 
woes  of  a  génération,  of  a  century,  of  the  whole  world  !  And 
you  also  forget  that  political  liberty,  the  peace  of  a  nation, 
and  science  itself  are  gifts  for  which  Fate  demands  a  heavy 
tax  in  blood  !' 

"  'May  the  nations  never  be  happy  at  less  cost  ?'  cried  I, 
with  tears  in  my  eyes. 

"  'Great  Truths  leave  their  wells  only  to  find  fresh  vigor 
in  baths  of  blood.  Christianity  itself,  the  essence  of  ail  truth, 
since  it  proceeds  from  God,  was  not  established  without  ma,r- 
tyrs.  Has  not  blood  flowed  in  torrents?  Must  it  not  for 
ever  flow? — You  will  know — you  who  are  to  be  one  of  the 


320  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI 

buiUlors  of  thc  social  cdifico  fouiulod  hv  llie  apostlcs.  As 
\ou}i  as  you  use  yoiir  instninu'iits  t(^  lovi'l  hcads,  you  will  bc 
ai>plaiKli.M.l  ;  llu'ii,  whcn  vou  wanl  (o  iakv  iij)  ilie  trowcl,  you 
will  ho  killod." 

"  *Blood  !  blood  !' — thc  words  rang  in  luy  brain  like  tho 
écho  of  a  1x^11. 

" 'According  to  you,'  said  I.  'i'rotcstautisin  lias  llie  sauie 
right  as  you  havc  to  argue  thus?' 

**But  Catherine  had  vaiiishcd  as  though  somc  draught  of 
air  had  cxtinguishcd  thc  supornatural  light  which  cnablcd 
my  niind  to  sec  thc  figure  which  had  grown  to  gigantic  pro- 
portions. I  had  suddcnly  discemed  in  mysclf  an  clément 
which  assiniilated  the  horrible  doctrines  set  forth  by  the 
Italian  Queen. 

"I  woke  in  a  sweat,  and  in  tears  ;  and  at  the  moment  when 
reason,  triumphing  within  me,  assured  me  in  lier  mild  tones 
that  it  was  not  the  function  of  a  King,  nor  even  of  a  nation, 
to  practise  thèse  principles,  worthy  only  of  a  people  of 
atheists " 

"And  how  are  perishing  monarchies  to  be  saved?"  asked 
Beaumarchais. 

'*God  is  above  ail,  monsieur,"  roplicd  my  neighbor. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Monsieur  de  Calonne,  with  the  flippancy 
which  characterized  him,  "we  hâve  always  the  resource  of 
believing  ourselves  to  be  instruments  in  the  hand  of  God, 
as  the  gospel  according  to  Bossuet  has  it." 

As  soon  as  the  ladies  undcrstood  that  the  whole  scène  was 
a  conversation  between  the  Queen  and  the  lawyer,  they  had 
begun  whispering.  Indeed,  I  hâve  spared  the  reader  the 
exclamations  and  interruptions  with  which  they  broke  into 
the  lawyer's  narrative.  However,  such  phrases  as,  "What  a 
deadly  bore  !"  and  "My  dear,  when  will  he  hâve  donc  ?" 
reached  my  car. 

When  the  stranger  ceased  spcaking,  the  ladies  were  silent. 
Monsieur  Bodard  was  asleep.  The  surgeon  being  half  drunk, 
Lavoisier,  Beaumarchais,  and  I  alone  had  been  listening; 
Monsieur  de  Calonne  was  playing  with  the  lady  at  his  side. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  321 

At  this  moment  the  silence  was  almost  solemn.  The  light 
of  the  tapers  seemed  to  me  to  hâve  a  magical  hue.  A  com- 
mun sentiment  linked  us  by  mysterious  bonds  to  this  man 
who,  to  me,  suggested  the  inexplicable  effects  of  fanaticism. 
It  needed  nothing  less  than  the  decp  hollow  voice  of  Beau- 
marchais" neighbor  to  rouse  us. 

"I  too  dreamed  !''  he  exclaimed. 

I  then  looked  more  particularly  at  the  surgeon,  and  felt 
an  indescribable  sentiment  of  horror.  His  earthy  complexion, 
his  features,  large  but  vulgar,  were  the  exact  expression  of 
what  I  must  be  allowed  to  call  la  caiwilU,  the  rough  mob. 
A  few  specks  of  dull  blue  and  black  dotted  his  skin  like  spots 
of  mud,  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  sinister  fires.  The  face 
looked  more  ominous  perhaps  that  it  really  was,  because 
a  powdered  wig  à  la  frimas  crowned  his  head  with  snow. 

"That  man  must  hâve  buried  more  than  one  patient,"  said 
I  to  my  neighbor. 

"I  would  not  trust  my  dog  to  his  care,"  he  replied. 

"I  hâte  him  involuntarily,"  said  I. 

"I  despise  him,"  replied  he. 

"And  yet  how  unjust!"  cried  I. 

"Oh  !  bless  me,  by  the  day  af ter  to-morrow  he  may  be  as 
famous  as  Volange  the  actor,"  replied  the  stranger. 

Monsieur  de  Galonné  pointed  to  the  surgeon  with  a  gesture 
that  seemed  to  convey,  "This  fellow  might  amuse  us." 

"And  did  you  too  dream  of  a  Queen  ?"  asked  Beaumarchais. 

"Xo,  I  dreamed  of  a  people,"  said  he  with  emphasis,  making 
us  laugh.  "I  was  attending  a  patient  whose  leg  I  was  to 
amputate  the  next  day " 

"And  you  found  a  people  in  your  patient's  thigh?"  asked 
Monsieur  de  Galonné. 

"Exactly  so  !"  replied  the  surgeon. 

"Is  not  he  amusing  ?"  cried  Madame  de  Genlis. 

"I  was  greatly  surprised,"  the  speaker  went  on,  never  heed- 
ing  thèse  interruptions,  and  stuffing  his  hands  into  his 
breeches  pockets,  "to  fînd  some  one  to  talk  to  in  that  leg.  I 
had  the  strange  power  of  entering  into  my  patient.    When 


322  AHOUT  CATIIICUINE  DE'  MEDICI 

I  first  found  mysolf  in  lus  skin,  I  discernod  llicre  an  amazing 
nuinbor  of  tiny  beings,  luoving,  tliinkinj;,  and  arguing.  Some 
lived  in  tlu'  nian's  body,  aiul  sonie  in  lus  inind.  Ilis  ideas 
wcre  croaturos  tliat  wcre  born,  grow,  and  dii-d  ;  thcy  wcre 
sick,  gay,  hoallhy,  sad — and  ail  liad  porsonal  individiiality. 
Thoy  fougbt  or  fondlod.  A  few  idoas  ik'W  forth  and  wcnl  lo 
dwoll  in  the  world  of  intellect.  Suddenly  I  undcrstood  ihat 
thero  are  two  worlds — the  visible  and  the  invisible  universe; 
thnt  the  earth,  like  man,  has  a  body  and  a  soûl.  A  now  light 
was  east  on  nature,  and  I  perccivcd  ils  imnicnsity  when  I 
saw  the  océan  of  beings  evcrywhcre  distributed  in  masses  and 
in  species,  ail  of  one  and  the  sanie  living  matter,  froni  niarble 
rocks  up  to  God.  A  magnificent  sight  !  In  short,  there  was 
a  universe  in  my  patient.  When  I  insertcd  my  lancet  in  his 
gangrcned  leg,  I  destroyed  a  thousand  such  beings. — You 
laugh,  ladies,  at  the  idea  that  you  are  a  prey  to  a  thousand 
créatures " 

"No  pcrsonalities,"  said  Monsieur  de  Colonne,  "speak  for 
yourself  and  your  patient." 

"My  man,  horrified  at  the  outcry  of  his  animalcules,  wanted 
to  stop  the  opération  ;  but  I  persisted,  telling  liim  that  ma- 
lignant  créatures  were  already  gnawing  at  his  bones.  He 
made  a  motion  to  resist  me,  not  understanding  that  what  I 
was  doing  was  for  his  good,  and  my  lancet  pierced  me  in  the 
sidc " 

"He  is  too  stupid,"  said  Lavoisier. 

"No,  he  is  drunk,"  rcplicd  Beaumarchais. 

"But,  gentlemen,  my  dream  has  a  meaning,"  cried  the 
surgeon. 

"Oh,  oh  !"  cried  Bodard,  waking,  "my  leg  is  asleep  !" 

'TTour  animalcules  are  dead,"  said  his  wife. 

"That  man  has  a  vocation,"  said  my  neighbor,  who  had 
imperturbably  stared  at  the  surgeon  ail  the  time  he  was 
talking. 

"It  is  to  Monsieur's  vocation  what  action  is  to  speech, 
or  the  body  to  the  soûl,"  said  the  ugly  guest. 

But  his  tongue  was  heavy,  and  he  got  confused  ;  he  could 


ABOTJT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI  323 

only  utter  unintelligible  words.  Happily,  the  conversation 
took  another  turn.  By  the  end  of  half  an  hour  we  had  for- 
gotten  the  surgeon  to  the  Court  pages,  and  he  was  asleep. 

When  we  rose  from  table,  the  rain  was  pouring  in  tor- 
rents. 

"The  lawyer  is  no  fool,"  said  I  to  Beaumarchais, 

"Oh  !  he  is  dull  and  cold.  But  you  see  the  provinces  can 
Btill  produce  good  folks  who  take  political  théories  and  the 
history  of  France  quite  seriously.  It  is  a  leaven  that  will 
spread." 

"Hâve  you  a  carnage  ?"  Madame  de  Saint- James  asked  me. 

"No,"  said  I  shortly.  "I  did  not  know  that  I  should  want 
it  this  evening.  You  thought,  perhaps,  that  I  should  take 
home  the  Controller-General  ?  Did  he  corne  ta  your  house 
en  polisson?"  (the  fashionable  name  at  the  time  for  a  person 
who  drove  his  own  carriage  at  Marly  dressed  as  a  coachman). 
Madame  de  Saint-James  left  me  hastily,  rang  the  bell,  ordered 
her  husband's  carriage,  and  took  the  lawyer  aside. 

"Monsieur  de  Eobespierre,  will  you  do  me  the  favor  of  see- 
ing  Monsieur  Marat  home,  for  he  is  incapable  of  standing 
upright?"  said  she. 

"With  pleasure,  madame,"  replied  Monsieur  de  Eobespierre 
with  an  air  of  gallantry  ;  "I  wish  you  had  ordered  me  to  do 
something  more  difficult." 

Paris,  Jantuiry  1828. 


3'J4  ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'  MEDICI 


NOTE. 

This  is  tho  sonp;  publishod  b.v  tho  Abh(^  do  la  Plnco  in  hls  collec- 
tion of  iiitcrcslini;  fr;i,L:nii'nts,  in  wiiifh  nuiy  l)o  found  tlit'  disserta- 
tion nlluded  to.  [It  will  ])o  soon  tliat  It  goes  to  the  old  tune  of 
Malhrouk  s'en  va-i-cn  guerre.] 

THE  DUC  DE  GUISE'S  BURIAL. 

Qui  veut  ouïr  clianson?  {Bis.) 
C'est  du  (irand  Duc  de  Guise; 

Et  bon  bon  bon  bon, 

Di  dan  di  dan  don, 
C'est  du  Grand  Duc  de  Guise! 
(This  last  Hue  was  spokeu,  no  doubt,  in  a  comie  tone.) 
Qui  est  mort  et  enterré. 

Qui  est  mort  et  enterré.    (Bis.) 
Aux  quatre  coins  du  poêle, 

Et  bon  bon  bon  bon, 

Di  dan  di  dan  don. 
Quatre  (jentilsh(jmm''s  y  avoit. 

Quatre  gentilshomm's  y  avoit.    (Bi«.) 
L'un  portoit  son  grand  casque, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Et  l'autre  ses  pistolets. 

Et  l'autre  ses  pistolets.   {Bis.) 
Et  l'autre  son  épée, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Qui  tant  d'Hugu'nots  a  tués. 

Qui  tant  d'Hugu'nots  a  tués.   (Bis.) 
Venoit  le  quatrième, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Qui  étoit  le  plus  dolent. 


ABOUT  CATHERINE  DE'   MEDICI  325 

Qui  étoit  le  plus  dolent;    (Bis.) 
Après  venoient  les  pages, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Et  les  valets  de  pied. 

Et  les  valets  de  pied,  {Bis.) 
Avecque  de  grands  crêpes, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Et  des  souliers  cirés. 

Et  des  souliers  cirés.  (Bis.) 
Et  des  beaux  bas  d'estanie, 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Et  des  culottes  de  piau. 

Et  des  culottes  de  piau.   (Bis.) 
La  cérémonie  faite. 

Et  bon,  etc., 
Chacun  s'alla  coucher. 

Chacun  s'alla  coucher:    (Bis.) 
Les  uns  avec  leurs  femmes. 

Et  bon,  etc. 
Et  les  autres  tout  seuls. 

The  discovery  of  thèse  curions  verses  seems  to  prove,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  the  guilt  of  Théodore  de  Bèze,  who  tried  to  mitigate 
the  horror  caused  by  this  murder  by  turning  it  to  ridicule.  The 
principal  merit  of  this  song  lay,  it  would  appear,  in  the  tune. 


21 


GAMBARA 


Copyright.  1898, 
By  J.  m.  dent  &  COMPANY 


GAMBARA 

To  Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Belloy 

It  was  sitting  by  the  fire,  in  a  mysterious  and  magnificent  retreat, 
— now  a  thing  of  the  past  but  surviving  in  our  niemory, — wiience 
our  eyes  commanded  a  view  of  Paris  from  the  heiglita  of  Bellevue 
to  those  of  Belleville,  from  Montmartre  to  the  triumphal  Arc  de 
l'Étoile,  that  one  morning,  refreshed  by  tea,  amid  the  myriad  sug- 
gestions that  shoot  up  and  die  like  rockets  from  your  sparkling  flow 
of  talk,  lavish  of  ideas,  you  tossed  to  my  pen  a  figure  worthy  of 
*^  Hoffmann, — that  casket  of  unrecognized  gems,  that  pilgrim  seated  at 
the  gâte  of  Paradise  with  ears  to  hear  the  songs  of  the  angels  but  no 
longer  a  tongue  to  repeat  them,  playing  on  the  ivory  keys  with  fingers 
crippled  by  the  stress  of  divine  inspiration,  believing  that  he  is  ex- 
pressing celestial  music  to  his  bewildered  listeners. 

It  was  you  who  created  Gambaka  ;  I  hâve  only  elothed  him.  Let 
me  render  unto  Csesar  the  things  that  are  Csesar's,  regretting  only 
that  you  do  not  yourself  take  up  the  pen  at  a  time  when  gentlemen 
ought  to  wield  it  as  well  as  the  sword,  if  they  are  to  save  their 
country.    You  may  neglect  yourself,  but  you  owe  your  talents  to  us. 

New  Year's  Day  of  1831  was  pouring  out  its  packets  of 
sugared  almonds,  four  o'clock  was  striking,  there  was  a  mob 
in  the  Palais-Eoyal,  and  the  eating-houses  were  beginning  to 
fin.  At  this  moment  a  coupé  drew  up  at  the  perron  and  a 
young  man  stepped  out;  a  man  of  haughty  appearance,  and 
no  doubt  a  f oreigner  ;  otherwise  he  would  not  hâve  displayed 
the  aristocratie  chasseur  who  attended  him  in  a  plumed  hat, 
nor  the  coat  of  arms  which  the  heroes  of  July  still  attacked. 
This  gentleman  went  into  the  Palais-Royal,  and  followed 

(327) 


328  GAMHAUA 

llu'  erowil  ri)uiul  tlu'  gallcrifs,  uiiiiina/.L'd  al  tliu  slowuess  to 
wliieh  tho  tlirong  of  loungors  reduced  his  paee;  lie  suenied 
accustoined  to  tlio  stutely  stop  which  is  ironitally  nickuained 
tlu'  ainbassadi)r's  strut  ;  still,  his  digiiity  liad  a  touch  of  the 
llicatrit'al.  Tliou^i:;)!  lus  fealuros  wt'vv.  liandsoine  uiid  iiiipos- 
iiig,  lus  liât,  froia  benoalh  which  thick  black  curls  stood  out, 
was  pcrhaps  tilted  a  little  too  inuch  over  the  right  ear,  and 
belied  his  gravity  by  a  too  rakish  efTect.  Ilis  eycs,  inatten- 
tive and  half  closed,  looked  dowii  disdaini'ully  on  (lie  erowd. 

"Theiv  goes  a  rcinarkably  good-looking  young  man,"  said 
a  girl  in  a  low  voice,  as  she  niade  way  for  hini  to  ])ass. 

"And  who  is  only  too  well  aware  of  it  !"  replied  lier  eom- 
panion  aloud — who  was  very  plain. 

After  walking  ail  round  the  arcades,  the  young  man 
looked  by  turns  at  the  sky  and  at  his  watch,  and  with  a 
shrug  of  impatience  went  into  a  tobacconist's  shop,  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  placed  hiinself  in  front  of  a  looking-glass  to 
glance  at  his  costume,  which  was  rather  more  ornate  than 
the  rules  of  French  taste  allow.  Ile  pulled  down  his  coUar 
and  his  black  velvet  waistcoat,  over  which  hung  many  fes- 
toons  of  the  thick  gold  chain  that  is  made  at  Venice;  then, 
having  arranged  the  folds  of  his  cloak  by  a  single  jerk  of 
his  left  shoulder,  draping  it  gracefully  so  as  to  show  the 
velvet  lining,  he  started  again  on  parade,  indiffèrent  to  the 
glances  of  the  vulgar. 

As  soon  as  the  shops  were  lighted  up  and  the  dusk  seemed 
to  him  black  onough,  he  went  out  into  the  square  in  front 
of  the  i'alais-Eoyal,  but  as  a  man  anxious  not  to  be  recog- 
nized  ;  for  he  kept  close  under  the  houses  as  far  as  the  foun- 
tain,  screened  by  the  haekney-cab  stand,  till  he  reached  the 
Eue  Froid-Manteau,  a  dirty,  poky,  disreputable  street — a 
sort  of  sewer  tolerated  by  the  police  close  to  the  purified 
purlieus  of  the  Palais-Royal,  as  an  Italian  major-domo 
allows  a  careless  servant  to  leave  the  sweepings  of  the  rooms 
in  a  corner  of  the  staircase. 

The  young  man  hesitated.  He  might  hâve  been  a  bedizened 
citizen's  wife  craning  her  neck  over  a  gutter  swollen  by  the 


GAMBARA  329 

rain.  But  the  hour  was  not  unpropitious  for  the  indulgence 
of  somc  discrcditable  whim.  Earlier,  he  miglrt  hâve  been  de- 
tected;  later,  he  might  find  himself  eut  out.  Tempted  by  a 
glanée  which  is  encouraging  without  being  inviting,  to  hâve 
followed  a  young  and  pretty  woman  for  an  hour,  or  perhaps 
for  a  day,  thinking  of  her  as  a  divinity  and  excusing  her  light 
conduct  by  a  thousand  reasons  to  lier  advantage;  to  hâve 
allowed  oneself  to  believe  in  a  sudden  and  irrésistible  affinity; 
to  hâve  pictured,  under  the  promptings  of  transient  excite- 
ment,  a  love-adventure  in  an  âge  when  romances  are  written 
precisely  because  they  never  happen;  to  hâve  dreamed  of 
balconies,  guitars,  stratagems,  and  bolts,  enwrapped  in  Alma- 
viva's  cloak;  and,  after  inditing  a  poem  in  fancy,  to  stop  at 
the  door  of  a  house  of  ill-fame,  and,  crowning  ail,  to  discern 
in  Eosina's  bashfulness  a  réticence  imposed  by  the  police — 
is  not  ail  this,  I  say,  an  expérience  familiar  to  many  a  man 
who  would  not  own  it? 

The  most  natural  feelings  are  those  we  are  least  willing  to 
confess,  and  among  them  is  fatuity.  When  the  lesson  is 
carried  no  further,  the  Parisian  profits  by  it,  or  forgets  it, 
and  no  great  harm  is  donc.  But  this  would  hardly  be  the 
case  with  this  foreigner,  who  was  beginning  to  think  he  might 
pay  too  dearly  for  his  Paris  éducation. 

This  personage  was  a  Milanese  of  good  family,  exiled 
from  his  native  country,  where  some  "libéral"  pranks  had 
made  him  an  object  of  suspicion  to  the  Austrian  Government. 
Count  Andréa  Marcosini  had  been  welcomed  in  Paris  with 
the  cordiality,  essentially  French,  that  a  man  always  finds 
there,  when  he  has  a  pleasant  wit,  a  sounding  name,  two  hun- 
dred  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  a  prepossessing  person.  To 
such  a  man  banishment  could  but  be  a  pleasure  tour;  his 
property  was  simply  sequestrated,  and  his  friends  let  him 
know  that  after  an  absence  of  two  years  he  might  return  to 
his  native  land  without  danger. 

After  rhyming  crudeli  affanni  with  i  miei  tiranni  in  a  dozen 
or  so  of  sonnets,  and  maintaining  as  many  hapless  Italian 
refugees  out  of  his  own  purse,  Count  Andréa,  who  was  so 


^ 


330  CAMHARA 

unlucky  as  to  be  a  i)c)j.'l,  thou^^ht  hiinsolf  rcicascd  from  pa- 
triotic  obligations.  So,  ever  since  his  arrivai,  hc  had  givcn 
hiinsclf  up  rccklessly  to  tlic  ploasurcs  of  cvcry  kind  which 
Paris  olTers  gratis  to  tliose  who  can  pay  for  tlicni.  llis 
talents  and  iiis  liandsotno  ])('rson  won  liini  siicccss  aniong 
wonion,  wiioni  ho  ailort'd  collcctively  as  boscoincd  his  yoars, 
but  aniong  wlioin  hc  had  not  as  yct  distinguislied  a  choson 
ono.  A  11(1  iiiilcfd  lliis  tastc  was,  in  him,  subordinatc  to  those 
^  for  music  and  })oetry  which  hc  had  cultivatcd  from  his  chihl- 
hood  ;  and  hc  thonglit  succcss  in  tlicso  both  niorc  didicult 
and  more  glorions  to  acliievc  tlian  in  aiïairs  of  gallantry,  sincc 
nature  had  not  inflicted  on  him  thc  obstacles  men  takc  most 
pride  in  defying. 

A  man,  likc  many  another,  of  complex  nature,  he  was  easily 
^  fascinated  by  tlie  conifort  of  hixury,  without  which  he  could 
hardly  havc  livcd  ;  and,  in  the  samc  way,  hc  clung  to  the 
social  distinctions  which  his  principlcs  contcmned.  Thus  his 
.théories  as  an  artist,  a  thinkcr,  and  a  poet  were  in  fréquent 
•^  'antagonism  with  his  tastes,  his  feclings,  and  his  habits  as  a 
man  of  rank  and  wealth  ;  but  he  comforted  himself  for  his 
inconsistoncies  by  recognizing  thom  in  many  Parisians,  like 
himself  libcral  by  policy  and  aristocrats  by  nature. 

Hence  it  was  not  without  some  uneasiness  that  he  found 
himself,  on  December  31,  1830,  undcr  a  Paris  thaw,  following 
at  the  heels  of  a  woman  whose  dress  betrayed  the  most  abject, 
inveterate,  and  long-accustomed  poverty,  who  was  no  hand- 
somer  than  a  hundred  others  to  bc  seen  any  evening  at  the 
play,  at  the  opéra,  in  the  world  of  fashion,  and  who  was  cer- 
tainly  not  so  young  as  Madame  de  Manerville,  from  whom  he 
had  obtained  an  assignation  for  that  very  day,  and  who  was 
perhaps  waiting  for  him  at  that  very  hour. 

But  in  thc  glanée  at  once  tender  and  wild,  swift  and  deep, 
which  that  woman's  black  eyes  had  shot  at  him  by  stealth, 
there  was  such  a  world  of  buried  sorrows  and  promised  joys  ! 
And  she  had  colored  so  fiercely  when,  on  coming  out  of  a 
shop  w^here  she  had  lingcrcd  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  her 
look  frankly  met  the  Count's,  who  had  been  waiting  for  her 


GAMBARA  331 

hard  by  !  In  fact,  there  were  so  many  buts  and  ifs,  that, 
possessed  by  one  of  those  mad  temptations  for  which  there  is 
no  Word  in  any  languago,  not  even  in  that  of  the  orgy,  he  had 
set  ont  in  pursuit  of  this  woman,  hunting  her  down  like  a 
hardened  Parisian. 

On  the  way,  whether  he  kept  behmd  or  ahead  of  this  damsel, 
he  studied  every  détail  of  her  person  and  her  dress,  hoping 
to  dislodge  the  insane  and  ridiculous  fancy  that  had  taken  up 
an  abode  in  his  brain  ;  but  he  presently  f ound  in  his  examina- 
tion  a  keener  pleasure  than  he  had  felt  only  the  day  before 
in  gazing  at  the  perfect  shape  of  a  woman  he  loved,  as  she 
took  her  bath.  Now  and  again,  the  unknown  fair,  bending 
her  head,  gave  him  a  look  like  that  of  a  kid  tethered  with  its 
head  to  the  ground,  and  finding  hcrself  still  the  object  of  his 
pursuit,  she  hurried  on  as  if  to  fly.  Neverthcless,  each  time 
that  a  block  of  carriages,  or  any  other  delay,  brought  Andréa 
to  her  side,  he  saw  her  turn  away  from  his  gaze  without  any 
signs  of  annoyance.  Thèse  signais  of  restrained  feelings 
spurred  the  frenzied  dreams  that  had  run  away  with  him, 
and  he  gave  them  the  rein  as  far  as  the  Eue  Froid-Manteau, 
down  which,  after  many  windings,  the  damsel  vanished, 
thinking  she  had  thus  spoilt  the  scent  of  her  pursuer,  who 
was,  in  fact,  startled  by  this  move. 

It  was  now  quite  dark.  Two  women,  tattooed  with  rouge, 
who  were  drinking  black-currant  liqueur  at  a  grocer's 
counter,  saw  the  young  woman  and  called  her.  She  paused 
at  the  door  of  the  shop,  replied  in  a  few  soft  words  to  the 
cordial  greeting  offered  her,  and  went  on  her  way.  Andréa, 
who  was  behind  her,  saw  her  turn  into  one  of  the  darkest 
yards  out  of  this  street,  of  which  he  did  not  know  the  name. 
The  répulsive  appearance  of  the  house  where  the  heroine  of 
his  romance  had  been  swallowed  up  made  him  feel  sick,  He 
drew  back  a  step  to  study  the  neighborhood,  and  finding  an 
ill-looking  man  at  his  elbow,  he  asked  him  for  information. 
The  man,  who  held  a  knotted  stick  in  his  right  hand,  placed 
the  left  on  his  hip  and  replied  in  a  single  word: 

"Scoundrel  !" 


382  OAMBARA 

lUit  on  Idoking  at  tlio  Italian,  who  stood  in  the  light  of  a 
street-lnmi»,  lie  jissumod  a  scrvilc  expression. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  hc,  suddcnly  ehan<^ing  hia 
tone.  "There  is  a  restaurant  noar  this,  a  sort  of  table-d'hôte, 
where  the  cooking  is  pretty  biid  and  tliey  serve  eheese  in  the 
soup.  ]^Ionsieiir  is  in  seareh  of  the  phice,  perhaps,  for  it  is 
easy  to  sch'  tliat  he  is  an  Italian — Italians  arc  fond  of  velvet 
and  of  eheese.  I^ul  if  monsieur  would  like  to  know  of  a  bettcr 
eating-house,  an  aunt  of  mine,  who  lives  a  few  steps  off,  is 
very  fond  of  forei<xners." 

Andréa  raised  his  cloak  as  hif^h  as  his  moustache,  and 
fled  from  the  street,  spurred  by  the  disgust  hc  fclt  at  this  foui 
person,  whosc  clothes  and  manner  wcre  in  harmony  with  the 
squalid  house  into  which  the  fair  nnknown  had  vanished. 
Ile  returned  with  rapture  to  the  thousand  luxuries  of  his  own 
roonis,  and  spent  the  evening  at  the  ]\larquise  d'Espard's  to 
cleansc  himself,  if  possible,  of  the  smirch  left  by  the  fancy 
that  had  driven  him  so  relentlcssly  during  the  day. 

And  yet,  when  he  was  in  bed,  the  vision  came  back  to  him, 
but  clearer  and  brighter  than  the  reality.  The  girl  was 
walking  in  front  of  him  ;  now  and  again  as  she  stepped  across 
a  gutter  her  skirts  revealed  a  round  calf;  hcr  shapcly  bips 
swayed  as  she  walked.  Again  Andréa  longed  to  speak  to  her 
— and  he  dared  not,  he,  Marcosini,  a  Milanese  nobleman  ! 
Then  he  saw  her  turn  into  the  dark  passage  where  she  had 
eluded  him,  and  blamed  himself  for  not  having  followed  her. 

"For,  after  ail,"  said  he  to  himself,  "if  she  really  wished 
to  avoid  me  and  put  me  ofï  her  track,  it  is  because  she  loves 
me.  With  women  of  that  stamp,  coyness  is  a  proof  of  love. 
Well,  if  I  had  carricd  the  adventure  any  further,  it  would, 
perhaps,  hâve  ended  in  disgust.    I  will  sloep  in  peace." 

The  Count  was  in  the  habit  of  analyzing  his  keenest  sensa- 
tions, as  men  do  involuntarily  when  they  hâve  as  much  brains 
as  heart,  and  he  was  surprised  when  he  saw  the  strange 
damsel  of  the  Rue  Froid-Manteau  once  more,  not  in  the 
pictured  splendor  of  his  dream  but  in  the  bare  reality  of 
dreary  fact.     And,  in  spite  of  it  ail,  if  fancy  had  stripped 


GAMBARA  333 

the  woman  of  her  livery  of  misery,  it  would  hâve  spoilt  her 
for  him  ;  for  he  wanted  her,  he  longed  for  her,  he  loved  her — 
with  her  niudd}'  stockings,  her  slipshod  feet,  her  straw  bon- 
net !  He  wanted  her  in  the  very  house  where  he  had  scen  her 
go  in. 

"Am  I  bewitched  by  vice,  then?"  he  asked  himself  in  dis- 
may.  "Nay,  I  hâve  not  yet  reached  that  point.  I  am  but 
three-and-twenty,  and  there  is  nothing  of  the  senile  fop  about 
me.'' 

The  very  véhémence  of  the  whim  that  held  possession  of 
him  to  some  extent  reassured  him.  This  strange  struggle, 
thèse  reflections,  and  this  love  in  pursuit  may  perhaps  puzzle 
some  persons  who  are  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  Paris  life; 
but  they  may  i)e  reminded  that  Count  Andréa  Marcosini  was 
not  a  Frenchman. 

Brought  up  by  two  abbés,  who,  in  obédience  to  a  very  pious 
father,  had  rarely  let  him  out  of  their  sight,  Andréa  had  not 
fallen  in  love  with  a  cousin  at  the  âge  of  eleven,  or  seduced 
his  mother's  maid  by  the  time  he  was  twelve;  he  had  not 
studied  at  school,  where  a  lad  does  not  learn  only,  or  best, 
the  subjects  prescribed  by  the  State;  he  had  lived  in  Paris 
but  a  few  years,  and  he  was  still  open  to  those  sudden  but 
deep  impressions  against  which  French  éducation  and  man- 
ners  are  so  strong  a  protection.  In  southern  lands  a  great 
passion  is  often  born  of  a  glance.  A  gentleman  of  Gascony 
who  had  tempered  strong  feelings  by  much  reflection  had 
fortified  himself  by  many  little  recipes  against  sudden  apo- 
plexies of  taste  and  heart,  and  he  advised  the  Count  to  in- 
dulge  at  least  once  a  month  in  a  wild  orgy  to  avert  those 
storms  of  the  soûl  which,  but  for  such  précautions,  are  apt  to 
break  out  at  inappropriate  moments.  Andréa  now  remem- 
bered  this  advice. 

"Well,"  thought  he,  "I  will  begin  to-morrow,  January  Ist." 

This  explains  why   Count  Andréa  Marcosini  hovered   so 

shyly  before  turning  down  the  Rue   Froid-Manteau.     The 

'^man  of  fashion  hampered  the  lover,  and  he  hesitated  for  some 


334  GAMRARA 

timc;  but  aflor  a  final  aji^oal  to  liis  courage  hc  went  on  with 
a  firni  stop  as  far  as  the  liouse,  wliioh  he  rccognizod  without 
dilliculty. 

Thoro  ho  stoppoJ  once  more.  Was  the  wonian  really  what 
lio  fanciod  hor?    Was  ho  not  on  tlio  vorgo  of  sonio  falso  niove? 

At  this  juncturo  lie  ronioniboroJ  the  Jlaliun  tuble-d'hôte, 
and  at  once  juniped  at  a  middle  course,  which  would  serve 
the  ends  alike  of  his  curiosity  aiid  of  liis  réputation,  lie 
went  in  to  dine,  and  inade  his  way  down  the  passage;  at  the 
bottoni,  aftor  fcoling  about  for  sonie  tinio,  ho  found  a  stair- 
caso  with  danip,  slippory  stops,  such  as  to  an  Italian  noble- 
man  could  only  seem  a  hidder. 

Invited  to  the  first  floor  by  the  glinimer  of  a  lamp  and  a 
strong  smell  of  cooking,  he  pushed  a  door  wliich  stood  ajar 
and  saw  a  room  dingy  with  dirt  and  snioke,  whore  a  wench 
was  busy  laying  a  table  for  about  twenty  custoniers.  None  of 
the  guosts  had  yet  arrivcd. 

After  looking  round  the  dimly  lighted  room  where  the 
paper  was  dropping  in  rags  from  the  walls,  the  gentleman 
scated  himself  by  a  stove  which  was  roaring  and  smoking  in 
the  corner. 

Attracted  by  the  noise  the  Count  made  in  coming  in  and 
disposing  of  his  cloak,  the  major-domo  presently  appeared. 
Picture  to  yourself  a  lean,  dried-up  cook,  very  tall,  with  a 
nose  of  extravagant  dimensions,  casting  about  him  from  time 
to  time,  with  feverish  keenness,  a  glance  that  he  meant  to  be 
cautions.  On  seeing  Andréa,  whose  attire  bespoke  consid- 
1^  érable  afïluence,  Signor^Giardini  bowed  respectfully. 

The  Count  expressed  his  intention  of  taking  his  meals  as 
a  rule  in  the  society  of  some  of  his  f ellow-countrymen  ;  he 
paid  in  advance  for  a  certain  number  of  tickets,  and  ingcnu- 
ously  gave  the  conversation  a  farailiar  bent  to  enable  him  to 
achieve  his  purpose  quickly. 

Hardly  had  he  mentioned  the  woman  he  was  seeking  when 
Signor  Giardini,  with  a  grotesque  shrug,  looked  knowingly 
at  his  customer,  a  bland  smile  on  his  lips. 

"Basial"  he  exclaimed.    "Capisco.    Your  Excellency  bas 


GAMBARA  335 


corne  spurred  by  two  appetites.  La  Signera  Gambara  will 
not  hâve  wasted  her  time  if  she  has  gained  the  interest  of  a 
gentleman  so  gênerons  as  you  appear  to  be.  I  ean  tell  you 
in  a  few  words  ail  we  know  of  the  woman,  who  is  really  to  be 
piticd. 

"The  husband  is,  I  believe,  a  native  of  Cremona  and  has 
just  corne  here  from  Germany.     He  was  hoping  to  get  the 
Tedeschi  to  try  somc  new  music  and  some  new  instruments. 
Isn't  it  pitiable?''  said  Giardini,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
"Signer  Gambara,  who  thinks  himself  a  great  composer,  does    ^ 
not  seem  to  me  very  clever  in  other  ways.    An  excellent  fel- 
low  with  sensé  and  wit,  and  sometimes  very  agreeable,  espe- 
cially  when  he  has  had  a  few  glasses  of  wine — which  does  not 
often  happen,  for  he  is  desperately  poor;  night  and  day  he 
toils  at  imaginary  symphonies  and  opéras  instcad  of  trying    - 
to  earn  an  honest  living.    His  poor  wife  is  reduccd  to  working 
for  ail  sorts  of  people — the  women  on  the  streets  !    What  is  to  " 
be  said  ?    She  loves  her  husband  like  a  f  ather,  and  takes  care 
of  him  like  a  child. 

"Many  a  young  man  has  dined  here  to  pay  his  court  to 
madame;  but  not  one  has  succeeded,"  said  he,  emphasizing 
the  Word.  "La  Signera  Marianna  is  an  honest  weman,  mon- 
sieur, much  too  honest,  worse  luck  for  her  !  Men  give  nething 
for  nething  nowadays.     Se  the  poor  seul  will  die  in  harness. 

"And  do  you  suppose  that  her  husband  rewards  her  for  her 
dévotion  ?  Poeh,  my  lord  never  gives  her  a  smile  !  And 
ail  their  cooking  is  done  at  the  baker's  ;  fer  net  only  does  the 
wretched  man  never  earn  a  sou;  he  spends  ail  his  wife  can  ^^ 
make  on  instruments  which  he  carves,  and  lengthens,  and 
shortens,  and  sets  up  and  takes  to  pièces  again  till  they  pre- 
duce  sounds  that  weuld  scare  a  cat  ;  then  he  is  happy.  And 
yet  you  will  find  him  the  mildest,  the  gentlest  of  men.  And 
he  is  net  idle  ;  he  is  always  at  it.  What  is  to  be  said  ?  He  is 
crazy  and  does  net  know  his  business.  I  hâve  seen  him,  mon- 
sieur, filing  and  forging  his  instruments  and  eating  blaek 
bread  with  an  appetite  that  I  envied  him — I,  who  bave  the 
best  table  in  Paris. 


K 


330  OAMIIARA 

"Ycs,  Excollonzn,  iii  n  (nuirtcr  of  ;ui  liour  you  sliall  know 
the  ninn  1  nin.  l  luivc  inlroiluccd  (•crtniii  rcrmcmcnts  into 
Italian  cookory  tlial  will  iimazi'  you  !  l<]xcelloiiza,  I  am  a 
Ncapolitan — that  is  lo  say,  a  boni  cook.  But  of  what  use  is 
instinct  without  knowlodgc?  Kno\vlpd<^c  !  1  liavo  spont 
tliirty  yoars  in  acciuiring  it,  and  you  soc  whcrc  it  bas  Icft  nie. 
My  bistory  is  tbat  of  ovcry  man  of  talent.  My  atlcmpts,  ray 
experimcnts,  havo  ruined  thrcc  restaurants  in  succession  at 
Naples,  Parnia,  and  Rome.  To  tbis  day,  whcn  I  am  reduccd 
to  make  a  trado  of  my  art,  I  more  oftcn  tban  not  givc  way 
to  my  ruling  passion.  1  givc  tlicsc  poor  rcfugccs  some  of  my 
cboiccst  disbes.  I  ruin  mysclf!  Folly  !  you  will  say?  I 
know  it;  but  how  can  I  hclp  it?  Genius  carries  me  away, 
and  I  cannot  resist  concocting  a  dish  which  smiles  on  my 
fancv. 

"And  tbcy  always  know  it,  the  rascals  !  They  know,  I 
can  promise  you,  whetbcr  I  or  my  wife  lias  stood  over  the 
fire.  And  what  is  the  conséquence  ?  Of  sixty-odd  customers 
whom  I  used  to  see  at  my  table  cvcry  day  whcn  I  first  started 
in  this  wretchcd  place,  I  now  see  twenty  on  an  average,  and 
give  them  crédit  for  the  most  part.  The  Piodmontese,  the 
Savoyards,  hâve  descrtcd,  but  the  connoisseurs,  the  true 
Italians,  remain.  And  there  is  no  sacrifice  that  I  would  not 
make  for  them.  I  often  give  them  a  dinner  for  five  and 
twenty  sous  which  bas  cost  me  double." 

Signor  Giardini's  speech  had  such  a  full  flavor  of  Nea- 
politan  cunning  that  tbc  Count  was  dclighted,  and  could  bave 
fancicd  himself  at  Gérolamo's. 

"Since  that  is  the  case,  my  good  f riend,"  said  he  familiarly 
to  the  cook,  "and  since  chance  and  your  confidence  bave  let 
me  into  the  secret  of  vour  daily  sacrifices,  allow  me  to  pay 
double." 

As  he  spoke  Andréa  spun  a  forty-franc  pièce  on  the  stove, 
out  of  which  Giardini  solemnly  gave  him  two  francs  and  fifty 
centimes  in  change,  not  without  a  certain  ceremonious  mya- 
tery  that  aroused  him  hugely. 

"In  a  few  minutes  now,"  the  man  added,  "you  will  see  your 


GAMBARA  337 

domiina.    I  will  seat  you  next  the  husband,  and  if  you  wisli  to    ■^ 
stand  in  his  good  grâces,  talk  about  music.     I  liave  invited 
every  one  for  tliis  evening,  poor  things.     Being  New  Year's 
Day,  I  am  treating  the  company  to  a  dish  in  which  I  believe  I 
hâve  surpassed  myself." 

Signor  Giardini's  voice  was  drowned  by  the  noisy  greetings 
of  the  guests,  who  streamed  in  two  and  two,  or  one  at  a  time, 
after  the  manner  of  tables-d'hôte.  Giardini  stayed  by  the 
Count,  phiying  the  «howman  by  telling  hini  who  the  company 
were.  He  tried  by  his  witticisms  to  bring  a  smile  to  the  lips  of 
a  man  who,  as  his  Neapolitan  instinct  told  him,  might  be  a 
wealthy  patron  to  turn  to  good  account. 

"This  one,'"  said  he,  "is  a  poor  composer  who  would  like 
to  rise  from  song-writing  to  opéra,  and  cannot.  He  blâmes 
the  managers,  music-sellers, — everybody,  in  fact,  but  him-  i^ 
self,  and  he  bas  no  worse  enemy.  You  can  see — what  a  florid 
complexion,  what  self-conceit,  how  little  firmness  in  his  fea- 
tures  !  he  is  made  to  write  ballads.  The  man  who  is  with  him, 
and  looks  like  a  match-hawker,  is  a  great  musical  celebrity — 
Gigelmi,  the  greatest  Italian  conductor  kno^\^l;  but  he  bas  '^ 
gone  deaf,  and  is  ending  his  days  in  penury,  deprived  of  ail 
that  made  it  tolerable.  Ah  !  hère  cornes  our  great  Ottoboni, 
the  most  guileless  old  fellow  on  earth  ;  but  he  is  suspected  of 
being  the  most  vindictive  of  ail  who  are  plotting  for  the  ré- 
génération of  Italy.  I  cannot  think  how  they  can  bear  to 
banish  such  a  good  old  man." 

And  hère  Giardini  looked  narrowly  at  the  Count,  who, 
feeling  himself  under  inquisition  as  to  his  politics,  entrenched 
himself  in  Italian  impassibility. 

"A  man  whose  business  it  is  to  cook  for  ail  corners  can  bave 
no  political  opinions,  Excellenza,"  Giardini  went  on.  "But 
to  see  that  worthy  man,  who  looks  more  like  a  lamb  than  a 
lion,  everybody  would  say  what  I  say,  were  it  before  the 
Austrian  ambassador  himself.  Besides,  in  thèse  times  liberty  — 
is  no  longer  proscribed;  it  is  going  its  rounds  again.  At 
least,  so  thèse  good  people  think,"  said  he,  leaning  over  to 
speak  in  the  Count's  ear,  "and  why  should  I  thwart  their 


888  (3AMHARA 

hopes?  I,  for  iny  part,  do  not  haie  nu  absolule  govcrnment. 
ExcvUenza,  evorv  iiian  of  talent  is  for  despotisiu  ! 

*'Woll,  though  fuîl  of  gcMiius,  Ottoboiii  takes  no  end  of 
pains  to  l'diu-ato  Italy;  lie  writes  litllc  books  to  onlighton 
the  intolli^onco  of  tlie  children  and  tlie  coniinon  jH'ople,  and 
he  smugglcs  thora  vcry  cleverly  into  Italy.  ]Ie  takes  im- 
mense tronble  to  reform  tln'  moral  sensé  of  onr  liukless  coun- 
try,  which,  after  ail,  prefers  pleasure  to  freedoin, — and  per- 
hajis  it  is  riglit." 

The  Count  preserved  siieh  au  inipeui'lrable  attitude  that 
the  cook  could  discover  nothing  of  lus  polit ical  views. 

"Ottoboni,"  he  rau  on,  "is  a  saint;  very  kind-hearted ;  ail 
the  refugees  are  fond  of  him  ;  for,  Excellenza,  a  libéral  niay 
hâve  his  virtues.  Olio  !  ITcrc  cornes  a  jonrnalist,"  said 
Giardini,  as  a  nian  came  in  dressed  in  the  absurd  way  whicli 
used  to  be  attributed  to  a  poet  in  a  garrot  ;  his  coat  was  thread- 
bare,  his  boots  split,  his  hat  shiny,  and  his  overcoat  de- 
plorably  ancient.  *'Excellenza,  that  poor  nian  is  full  of 
talent,  and  incorruptibly  honest.  He  was  born  into  the 
■\vrong  times,  for  he  tells  the  truth  to  cvcrybody  ;  no  one  can 
^  endure'  him.  He  writes  theatrical  articles  for  two  small 
papers,  though  he  is  élever  enough  to  work  for  the  great 
dailies.    Poor  fellow  ! 

"The  rest  are  not  worth  mentioning,  and  Your  Excellency 
will  find  them  ont,"  he  concludod,  sccing  that  on  the  entrance 
of  the  musician's  wife  the  Count  had  ceased  to  listen  to  him. 

On  seeing  Andréa  hère,  Signora  Marianna  started  visibly 
and  a  bright  flush  tinged  her  cheeks. 

"Hère  he  is  !"  said  Giardini,  in  an  undertone,  clutching 
the  Count's  arm  and  nodding  to  a  tall  man.  "How  pale 
and  grave  he  is,  poor  man  !  His  hobby  has  not  trotted  to  his 
mind  to-day,  I  fancy." 

Andrea's  prepossession  for  Marianna  was  crossed  by  the 

y  j  captivating  charm  which  Gambara  could  not  fail  to  exert  over 

y  ever}'  genuine  artist.     The  composer  was  now  forty;  but  al- 

though  his  high  brow  was  bald  and  lined  with  a  few  parallel. 


GAMBARA  339 

but  not  deep,  wrinkles;  in  spite,  too,  of  hollow  temples 
where  the  blue  veins  showed  through  the  smooth,  transparent 
skin,  and  of  the  deep  sockets  in  ^vhich  his  black  eyes  were 
suuk,  with  their  large  lids  and  light  lashes,  the  lower  part 
of  his  face  made  him  still  look  young,  so  calm  was  its  outline, 
so  soft  the  modeling.  It  could  be  seen  at  a  glanée  that  in  this 
man  passion  had  been  curbed  to  the  advantage  of  the  intel- 
lect; that  the  brain  alone  had  grown  old  in  some  great 
struggle. 

Andréa  shot  a  swift  look  at  Marianna,  who  was  watching 
him.  And  he  noted  the  beautiful  Italian  head,  the  exquisite 
proportion  and  rich  coloring  that  revealed  one  of  those  or- 
ganizations  in  whieh  every  Imman  power  is  harmoniously 
balanced,  he  sounded  the  gulf  that  divided  this  couple, 
brought  together  by  fate.  Well  content  with  the  promise  he 
inferred  from  this  dissimilarity  between  the  husband  and 
wife,  he  made  no  attempt  to  control  a  liking  which  ought  to 
bave  raised  a  barrier  between  the  fair  Marianna  and  himself. 
He  was  already  conscious  of  feeling  a  sort  of  respectful  pity 
for  this  man,  whose  only  joy  she  was,  as  he  understood  the 
dignified  and  serene  acceptance  of  ill  fortune  that  was  ex- 
pressed  in  Gambara's  mild  and  melancholy  gaze. 

After  expecting  to  see  one  of  the  grotesque  figures  so  often 
set  before  us  by  German  novelists  and  writers  of  îibretti, 
he  beheld  a  simple,  unpretentious  man,  whose  manners  and 
demeanor  were  in  nothing  strange  and  did  not  lack  dignity. 
Without  the  faintest  trace  of  luxury,  his  dress  was  more 
décent  than  might  hâve  been  expected  from  his  extrême  pov- 
erty,  and  his  linen  bore  witness  to  the  tender  care  which 
watched  over  every  détail  of  his  existence.  Andréa  looked  at 
Marianna  with  moistened  eyes;  and  she  did  not  color,  but 
half  smiled,  in  a  way  that  betrayed,  perhaps,  some  pride  at 
this  speechless  homage.  The  Count,  too  thoroughly  fascinated 
■p  to  miss  the  smallest  indication  of  complaisance,  fancied  that 
,    she  must  love  him,  since  she  understood  him  so  well. 

From  this  moment  he  set  himself  to  conquer  the  husband 
rather  than  the  wife,  turning  ail  his  batteries  against  the  poor 


340  GAMRAIIA 

CJainbara,  wlio  quite  guilelessly  weut  ou  eating  Signor  Qiar- 
dini's  boccuni,  without  tliinking  of  their  Uuvor. 

The  Couut  opi'iioil  tho  (.onveisation  ou  soiiie  trivial  subject, 
but  a(  thc  llrst  words  lie  peivcived  that  tins  brain,  supposed  to 
be  iufalualc'd  ou  ouo  |)oiut,  was  romarkably  clear  ou  ail  otliers, 
aud  saw  that  it  would  bc  far  more  iuiportaut  to  enter  into 
this  very  élever  man's  idcas  thau  to  llatter  his  couceits. 

The  rest  of  the  couipauy,  a  huugry  crew  wliose  brain  only 
rc?poudod  to  tho  sight  of  u  more  or  less  good  moal,  showod 
mueh  auimosity  to  the  luckless  (Jambara,  aud  waited  ouly  till 
the  end  of  the  lirst  course,  to  give  free  veut  to  their  satire. 
A  refugce,  whose  fréquent  leer  betrayed  ambitious  schemes 
on  Marianua,  and  who  fancied  he  could  establish  himself 
iu  hor  good  grâces  by  tryiug  to  make  her  husbaud  ridiculous, 
opeued  tire  to  show  the  uewcomer  how  the  laud  lay  at  the 
table-d'hôte. 

''It  is  a  very  long  time  since  we  hâve  heard  anything  about 
the  opéra  on  'Mahomet'  !"  cried  he,  with  a  smile  at  Marianna. 
"Can  it  be  that  Paolo  Gambara,  wholly  given  up  to  domestic 
carcs,  absorbed  by  the  charms  of  the  chimney-corner,  is  ne- 
glecting  his  superhuman  genius,  leaving  his  talents  to  get 
cold  aud  his  imagination  to  go  flat?" 

Gambara  knew  ail  the  company;  he  dwelt  in  a  sphère  so 
far  above  them  ail  that  he  no  longer  cared  to  repel  an  attack. 
He  made  no  reply. 

"It  is  not  given  to  everybody,"  said  the  journalist,  "to  hâve 
an  intellect  that  can  understand  Monsieur  Gambara's  musical 
efforts,  and  that,  no  doubt,  is  why  our  divine  maestro  hési- 
tâtes to  come  before  the  worthy  Parisian  public." 

"Aud  yet,"  said  the  ballad-mouger,  who  had  not  opeued  his 
mouth  but  to  swallow  everything  that  came  within  his  reach, 
"I  know  some  men  of  talent  who  think  highly  of  the  judg- 
ments  of  Parisian  critics.  I  myself  hâve  a  pretty  réputation 
as  a  musician,"  he  went  on,  with  an  air  of  diffidence.  "I  owe 
it  solely  to  my  little  songs  in  vaudevilles,  and  the  success  of 
my  dance  music  in  drawing-rooms  ;  but  I  propose  ère  long 
to  bring  out  a  mass  composed  for  the  anniversary  of  Bee- 


GAMBARA  341 

thoven's  death,  and  I  expect  to  be  better  appreciated  in  Paris 
than  anywhere  else.  You  will  pcrhaps  do  me  the  honor  of 
hearing  it  ?"  he  said,  turning  to  Andréa. 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  Count.  "But  I  do  net  conceive 
that  I  am  gifted  with  the  organs  needful  for  the  appréciation 
of  French  music.  If  you  were  dead,  monsieur,  and  Beethoven 
had  composed  the  mass,  I  would  not  hâve  failed  to  attend 
the  performance." 

This  retort  put  an  end  to  the  tactics  of  those  who  wanted 
to  set  Gambara  off  on  his  high  horse  to  amuse  the  new  guest. 
Andréa  was  already  conscious  of  an  unwillingness  to  expose 
so  noble  and  pathetic  a  mania  as  a  spectacle  for  so  much 
vulgar  shrewdness.  It  was  with  no  base  réservation  that  he 
kept  up  a  desultory  conversation,  in  the  course  of  which 
Signor  Giardini's  nose  not  infrequently  interposed  between 
two  remarks.  Whenever  Gambara  uttercd  some  élégant 
repartee  or  some  paradoxical  aphorism,  the  cook  put  his  head 
forward,  to  glance  with  pity  at  the  musician  and  with  mean- 
ing  at  the  Count,  muttering  in  his  ear,  "E  matto!" 

Then  came  a  moment  when  the  chef  interrupted  the  flow 
of  his  judicial  observations  to  dévote  himself  to  the  second 
course,  which  he  considered  highly  important.  During  his 
absence,  which  was  brief,  Gambara  leaned  across  to  address 
Andréa. 

"Our  worthy  host,"  said  he,  in  an  undertone,  "threatens  to 
regale  us  to-day  with  a  dish  of  his  own  concocting,  which  I 
recommend  you  to  avoid,  though  his  wife  has  had  an  eye  on 
him.  The  good  man  has  a  mania  for  innovations.  He  ruined 
himself  by  experiments,  the  last  of  which  compelled  him  to 
fly  from  Kome  without  a  passport — a  circumstance  he  does 
not  talk  about.  After  purchasing  the  good-will  of  a  popular 
restaurant  he  was  trusted  to  prépare  a  banquet  given  by  a 
lately  made  Cardinal,  whose  household  was  not  yet  complète. 
Giardini  fancied  he  had  an  opportunity  for  distinguishing 
himself — and  he  succeeded  !  for  that  same  evening  he  was 
accused  of  trying  to  poison  the  whole  conclave,  and  was 
obliged  to  leave  Rome  and  Italy  without  waiting  to  pack  up. 

23 


842  GAMRARA 

Tliis  disaster  was  iho  last  straw.  Xow,"  aiul  Catiibara  i)ut 
his  lingor  to  lus  forohoad  and  slmok  liis  lu'ad. 

"lie  is  a  good  fellow,  ail  tlic  saiiu',"  lie  addcd.  "My  wife 
will  tell  you  that  \ve  owe  hiin  inany  a  good  tu  ni." 

Ciiardiiii  now  came  in  carcfully  bearing  a  disli  wliich  lie 
Bot  iu  the  niiddle  of  tlie  table,  ami  lie  tlien  niodestly  resunied 
his  seat  next  to  Andréa,  wlioin  lie  served  (Irst.  As  soon  as  he 
had  tastcd  the  mess,  the  Count  t'cll  ihal  an  inipassable  gulf 
divided  the  second  nioutlifui  froni  tlic  lirst.  Ile  was  much 
enibarrassed,  and  very  anxious  not  to  annoy  the  cook,  who 
vas  watching  hini  narrowly.  Though  a  Frcnch  restaurateur 
luay  care  little  about  sceing  a  dish  scorned  if  he  is  sure  of 
being  paid  for  it,  it  is  not  so  with  an  Italian,  who  is  not  oftcn 
satiated  with  praises. 

To  gain  tinie,  Andréa  complimented  Giardini  enthusiastic- 
ally,  but  he  Icaned  ovcr  to  wliispcr  in  his  ear,  and  slipping 
a  gold  pièce  into  his  hand  under  the  table,  beggcd  him  to  go 
ont  and  buy  a  fcw  bottles  of  Champagne,  leaving  him  free  to 
take  ail  the  crédit  of  the  treat. 

When  the  Italian  returned,  every  plate  was  cleared,  and  the 
room  rang  with  praises  of  the  master-cook.  The  Champagne 
Boon  mounted  thèse  southern  brains,  and  the  conversation, 
till  now  subdued  in  the  stranger's  présence,  overleaped  the 
limits  of  suspicions  reserve  to  wander  far  over  the  wide  fields 
of  political  and  artistic  opinions. 

Andréa,  to  whom  no  form  of  intoxication  was  known  but 
those  of  love  and  poetry,  had  soon  gained  the  attention  of 
the  Company  and  skilfully  led  it  to  a  discussion  of  matters 
musical. 

"Will  you  tell  me,  monsieur,"  said  he  to  the  composer  of 
dance-music,  "how  it  is  that  the  Napoléon  of  thèse  tunes 
can  condescend  to  usurp  the  place  of  Palestrina,  Pergolesi, 
and  Mozart, — poor  créatures  who  must  pack  and  vanish  at 
the  advent  of  that  tremendous  Mass  for  the  Dead?" 

"Well,  monsieur,"  replied  the  composer,  "a  niusician  al- 
ways  iînds  it  diffîcult  to  reply  when  the  answer  needs  the  co- 
opération of  a  hundred  skilled  exécutants.     Mozart,  Haydn, 


GAMBARA  343 

and  Beethoven,  without  an  orchestra,  would  be  of  no  great 
account.'' 

"Of  no  great  account!"  said  Marcosini.  "Why,  ail  the 
world  knows  that  the  ininiortal  author  of  Don  Giovanni  and 
the  Requiem  was  named  Mozart;  and  I  am  so  unhappy  as  not 
to  know  the  name  of  the  inexhaustible  writer  of  quadrilles 
which  are  so  popular  in  our  drawing-rooms " 

"Music  exists  independently  of  exécution,"  said  the  re- 
tired  conductor,  who,  in  spite  of  his  deafness,  had  caught  a 
few  words  of  the  conversation.  "As  he  looks  through  the 
C-minor  symphony  by  Beethoven,  a  musician  is  transported 
to  the  world  of  fancy  on  the  golden  wings  of  the  subject  in 
G-natural  repeated  by  the  horns  in  E.  He  sees  a  whole 
realra,  by  turns  glorious  in  dazzling  shafts  of  light,  gloomy 
under  clouds  of  melancholy,  and  cheered  by  heavenly  strains." 

"The  new  school  has  left  Beethoven  far  behind,"  said  the 
ballad-writer,  scornfully. 

"Beethoven  is  not  yet  understood,"  said  the  Count.  "How 
can  he  be  excelled?" 

Gambara  drank  a  large  glass  of  Champagne,  accompanying 
the  draught  by  a  covert  smile  of  approval. 

"Beethoven,"  the  Count  went  on,  "extended  the  limits  of 
instrumental  music,  and  no  one  has  followed  in  his  track/'  ^^ 

Gambara  assented  with  a  nod. 

"His  work  is  especially  noteworthy  for  simplicity  of  con- 
struction and  for  the  way  the  scheme  is  worked  out,"  the 
Count  went  on,  "Most  composers  make  use  of  the  orchestral 
parts  in  a  vague,  incohérent  way,  combining  them  for  a 
merely  temporary  effect;  they  do  not  persistently  contribute 
to  the  whole  mass  of  the  movement  by  their  steady  and  regu- 
lar  progress.  Beethoven  assigns  its  part  to  each  tone-quality 
f  rom  the  first.  Like  the  varions  companies  which,  by  their  dis- 
ciplined  movements,  contribute  to  winning  a  battle,  the  or- 
chestral parts  of  a  symphony  by  Beethoven  obey  the  plan 
ordered  for  the  intercst  of  ail,  and  are  subordinate  to  an 
admirably  conceived  scheme. 

"In  this  he  may  be  compared  to  a  genius  of  a  différent 


:U4  r.AMHAHA 

type.  Tn  Wnltor  Soott's  splondid  hislorical  novcls,  some 
pcrsoniifx*'.  \vlio  simmiis  io  havo  loasi  to  do  witli  (lie  action  of 
tlu>  story,  intervcnos  at  a  givon  moment,  and  Icnds  up  to  tho 
oliniax  hy  somo  tliroad  wovon  into  tho  plot." 

"K  vcro!"  romarkod  Cîambara,  to  whom  common  sensé 
seemod  to  roturn  in  inverse  proportion  to  sobriety. 

Andréa,  eager  to  carry  the  test  further,  for  a  moment  for- 
pot  ail  lus  jiredilections  ;  lie  proceodcd  to  attack  the  lOnropean 
famé  of  l\ossini,  disputing  the  position  whieh  the  Italian 
school  lias  taken  by  storm,  niglit  after  night  for  more  tlian 
tliirty  years,  on  a  Inindred  stages  in  Europe.  Ile  had  under- 
takeu  a  linrd  task.  The  first  words  he  spoke  raised  a  strong 
murniur  of  disapproval  ;  but  neither  rejx'ated  interruptions, 
nor  exclamations,  nor  frowns,  nor  contemptuous  looks,  could 
check  this  determined  advocate  of  Beethoven. 

"Compare,"  said  he,  "that  suhlinie  composer's  works  with 
what  by  common  consent  is  called  Italian  music.  What 
'  feebleness  of  idcas,  what  limpness  of  style  I  That  monotony 
'  of  form,  those  commonjilace  cadenzas,  those  endlcss  bravura 
passages  introduccd  at  haphazard  irrespect  ive  of  the  dra- 
matic  situation,  that  récurrent  crescendo  that  Rossini  brought 
into  vogue,  are  now  an  intégral  part  of  every  composition; 
those  vocal  fireworks  rcsult  in  a  sort  of  babbling,  chattering, 
vaporous  music,  of  which  the  sole  merit  dépends  on  the 
grcater  or  less  fluency  of  the  singer  and  his  rapidity  of 
vocalization. 

"The  Italian  school  has  lost  sight  of  the  high  mission  of 
art.  Instead  of  elevating  the  crowd,  it  has  condescended  to 
the  crowd  ;  it  has  won  its  success  only  by  accepting  the  suf- 
frages of  ail  corners,  and  appealing  to  the  vulgar  minds  which 
constitute  the  majority.  Such  a  success  is  mère  street  jug- 
gling. 

"In  short,  the  compositions  of  Rossini,  in  whom  this  music 
is  personified,  with  those  of  the  writers  who  are  more  or  les3 
of  his  school,  to  me  seem  worthy  at  best  to  collect  a  crowd  in 
the  stroot  round  a  grindi-ng  organ,  as  an  accompaniment  to 
the  capers  of  a  puppet  show.    I  even  prefer  French  music. 


GAMBARA  345 

and  I  can  say  no  more.  Long  live  Gennan  music  !"  cried  he, 
"when  it  is  tuneful,"  he  added  in  a  low  voice. 

This  sally  was  the  upshot  of  a  long  preliminary  discussion, 
in  which,  for  more  than  a  qiiarter  of  an  hour,  Andréa  had 
divagatcd  in  the  nppcr  sphère  of  metaphysics,  with  the  ease 
of  a  soinnambulist  walking  over  the  roofs. 

Gambara,  keenly  interested  in  ail  this  transcendentalism, 
had  net  lost  a  word;  he  took  up  his  parable  as  soon  as  An- 
dréa seemed  to  hâve  ended,  and  a  little  stir  of  revived  atten- 
tion was  évident  among  the  guests,  of  whoni  several  had  been 
about  to  leave. 

"You  attack  the  Italian  school  with  much  vigor/'said  Gam- 
bara, somewhat  warmed  to  his  work  by  the  Champagne,  ''and, 
for  ray  part,  you  are  very  welcome.  I,  thank  God,  stand  oiit- 
side  this  more  or  less  mélodie  frippery.  Still,  as  a  man  of 
the  world,  you  are  too  ungrateful  to  the  classic  land  whence 
Germany  and  France  derived  their  first  teaching.  While  the 
compositions  of  Carissimi,  Cavalli,  Scarlatti,  and  Eossi  were 
being  played  throughout  Italy,  the  violin  players  of  the 
Paris  opéra  house  enjoyed  the  singular  privilège  of  being  al- 
lowed  to  play  in  gloves.  Lulli,  who  extended  the  realm  of 
harmony,  and  was  the  first  to  classify  discords,  on  arriving  in 
France  found  but  two  men — a  cook  and  a  mason — whose 
voice  and  intelligence  were  equal  to  performing  his  music; 
he  made  a  ténor  of  the  former,  and  transformed  the  latter 
into  a  bass.  At  that  time  Germany  had  no  musician  except- 
ing  Sébastian  Bach. — But  you,  monsieur,  though  you  are  so 
young,"  Gambara  added,  in  the  humble  tone  of  a  man  who 
expects  to  find  his  remarks  received  with  scorn  or  ill-nature, 
"must  bave  given  much  time  to  the  study  of  thèse  high  mat- 
ters  of  art;  you  could  not  otherwise  explain  them  so  clearly." 

This  word  made  many  of  the  hearers  smile,  for  they  had 
understood  nothing  of  the  fine  distinctions  drawn  by  Andréa. 
Giardini,  indeed,  convinced  that  the  Count  had  been  talking 
mère  rhodomontade,  nudgod  him  with  a  laugh  in  his  sleeve,  as 
at  a  good  joke  in  which  he  flattered  himself  that  he  was  a 
partner. 


346  CtAMBARA 

"Thoro  is  a  groat  donl  tlmt  strikos  mv  as  vory  truo  in  aJl 
you  havo  8ai(l,"  (îaiulinra  wcnt  on;  "Imt  ho  oarcful.  ^dur 
ar^uniont,  whilc  rolloftin^  on  Itnlian  ^oiisuality,  scoms  to  nio 
to  loan  towards  (iornuin  idealisin,  wliicli  is  a  no  Icss  fatal 
herct>y.  If  mou  of  imagination  and  good  sensé,  likc  you, 
dcscrt  onc  camp  only  to  join  thc  other;  if  they  cannot  keep 
to  tlio  happy  médium  hctween  two  forms  of  extravagance,  we 
shall  ahvays  be  exposed  to  the  satire  of  tlie  sophists,  who  deny 
ail  progress,  wlio  compare  thc  gcniiis  of  man  to  tliis  tablo- 
clotli,  whicli,  being  too  sliort  to  cover  the  whole  of  Signor 
Giardini's  table,  decks  onc  end  at  the  oxpense  of  the  other." 

Giardini  bounded  in  his  seat  as  if  ]u'  had  been  stung  by  a 
horse-fly,  but  swift  reflection  restored  him  to  his  dignity  as  a 
host  ;  he  looked  up  to  hcaven  and  again  nudged  the  Count, 
who  was  bcginning  to  think  the  cook  more  crazy  than  Gam- 
bara. 

This  serious  and  pious  way  of  speaking  of  art  interested  the 
Milanese  extremely.  Scated  between  thèse  two  distractcd 
brains,  onc  so  noble  and  the  other  so  common,  and  making 
game  of  each  other  to  the  great  cntertainment  of  the  crowd, 
:  there  was  a  moment  when  thc  Count  found  himself  wavering 
'/between  the  sublime  and  its  parody,  the  farcical  extrêmes 
of  human  life.  Ignoring  the  chain  of  incrcdible  events 
which  had  brought  them  to  this  smoky  den,  he  bclieved  him- 
self to  be  the  plaything  of  some  strange  hallucination,  and 
thought  of  Gambara  and  Giardini  as  two  abstractions. 

Meanwhile,  after  a  last  pièce  of  buffoonery  from  the  deaf 
conductor  in  reply  to  Gambara,  the  company  had  broken  up 
laughing  loudly.  Giardini  went  off  to  make  coffee,  which  he 
begged  the  sélect  few  to  accept,  and  his  wife  cleared  the 
table.  The  Count,  sitting  near  the  stove  between  Marianna 
and  Gambara,  was  in  the  very  position  which  the  mad  mu- 
sician  thonght  most  désirable,  with  sensuousness  on  one  side 
and  idealism  on  the  other.  Gambara,  finding  himself  for  the 
first  time  in  the  society  of  a  man  who  did  not  laugh  at  him 
to  his  face,  soon  diverged  from  generalities  to  talk  of  himself, 
of  his  life.  his  work,  and  the  musical  régénération  of  which  he 
believed  himself  to  be  the  Messiah. 


ï 


GAMBARA  347 

"Listen,"  said  he,  "you  who  so  far  hâve  not  insulted  me. 
I  will  tell  you  the  story  of  my  lif e  ;  not  to  make  a  boast  of  my 
persévérance,  which  is  no  virtue  of  mine,  but  to  the  greater 
glory  of  Him  who  lias  given  me  His  strength.  You  seem 
kind  and  pious  ;  if  you  do  not  believe  in  me  at  least  you  will 
pity  me.    Pity  is  human  ;  f aith  comes  f rom  God." 

Andréa  turned  and  drew  back  under  his  chair  the  foot  that 
had  been  seeking  that  of  the  fair  Marianna,  fixing  his  eyea 
on  her  while  listening  to  Gambara. 

"I  was  born  at  Cremona,  the  son  of  an  instrument  maker, 
a  fairly  good  performer  and  an  even  botter  composer,"  the 
musician  begau.  "Thus  at  an  early  âge  I  had  mastered  the 
laws  of  musical  construction  in  its  twofold  aspects,  the  ma- 
terial  and  the  spiritual  ;  and  as  an  inquisitive  child  I  observed 
mâny  things  which  subsequently  recurred  to  the  mind  of  the 
full-gro^\'n  man. 

'•'The  French  turned  us  out  of  our  own  home — my  father 
and  me.  We  were  ruined  by  the  war.  Thus,  at  the  âge  of 
ten  I  entered  on  the  wandering  life  to  which  most  men  hâve 
been  condemned  whose  brains  were  busy  with  innovations, 
whether  in  art,  science,  or  politics.  Fate,  or  the  instincts  of 
their  mind  which  cannot  fit  into  the  compartments  where 
the  trading  class  sit,  providentially  guides  them  to  the  spots 
where  they  may  find  teaching.  Led  by  my  passion  for  music 
I  wandered  throughout  Italy  from  théâtre  to  théâtre,  living 
on  very  little,  as  men  can  live  there.  Sometimes  I  played  the 
hass  in  an  orchestra,  sometimes  I  was  on  the  boards  in  the 
chorus,  sometimes  under  them  with  the  carpenters.  Thus 
I  learned  every  kind  of  musical  effect,  studying  the  tones  of 
instruments  and  of  the  human  voice,  wherein  they  differed  ^ 
and  how  they  harmonized,  listening  to  the  score  and  applying 
the  rules  taught  me  by  my  father. 

"It  was  hungry  work,  in  a  land  where  the  sun  always 
shines,  where  art  is  ail  pervading,  but  where  there  is  no  pay 
for  the  artist,  since  Eome  is  but  nominally  the  Sovereign  of 
the  Christian  world.     Sometimes  made  welcome,  sometimes 


aia  OAMnARA 

R'outi'd  for  iny  jxnoriv.  I  uvwr  lost  courage.  1  lieard  a 
voicc  witliiii  ino  proniisiii^j;  im'  f.imc. 

"Music  80onu>(l  to  iiio  iii  ils  infancy,  aiiii  I  Ihink  so  slill. 
AH  Ihat  is  loft  to  us  of  musical  clTort  bcforc  tlie  scvcnlconih 
ccntury,  provos  to  iiio  tliai  {>arly  iinisicjans  kinnv  inclody  only  ; 
thoy  wore  ignorant  of  liarniony  aiid  ils  iiiiiuciisc  rcsources. 
"Nfusic  is  at  once  a  science  and  an  arl.  It  is  rooled  in  physics 
a;ul  niatheinatics.  henco  it  is  a  science;  inspiration  inakes  il, 
an  art,  unconsciously  ntilizing  tlie  llicorcins  of  science.  It 
is  f(niiulod  in  ]>liysics  by  tlie  very  nature  of  llie  matter  it 
Works  on.  Sound  is  air  in  motion.  The  air  is  formed  of 
constituent  s  vhicli,  in  us,  no  doubi,  meet  vvith  analogous 
éléments  Huit  respond  to  them,  sympathize,  and  magnify 
them  by  the  power  of  tho  mind.  Thus  thc  air  must  include 
a  vast  variety  of  molécules  of  varions  degrees  of  elasticity, 
and  capable  of  vibrât ing  in  as  many  différent  periods  as  tliere 
arc  tones  from  ail  kinds  of  sonorous  bodies  ;  and  thèse  molé- 
cules, set  in  motion  by  the  musician  and  falling  on  our  ear, 
answer  to  our  ideas,  according  to  each  man's  tempérament.  I 
rayself  believc  that  sonnd  is  identical  in  its  nature  with  light. 
Sound  is  light,  perceived  nnder  another  form  ;  each  acts 
through  vibrations  to  which  man  is  sensitive  and  which  he 
transforms,  in  the  nervous  centres,  into  ideas. 

"ifusic,  like  painting,  makes  use  of  materials  which  hâve 
the  property  of  libcrating  this  or  that  propcrty  froni  the 
surrounding  médium  and  so  suggesting  an  image.  The  in- 
struments in  music  perform  this  part,  as  color  does  in  paint- 
ing. And  whereas  each  sound  produced  by  a  sonorous  body 
is  invariably  allied  with  its  major  third  and  fifth,  whereas  it 
acts  on  grains  of  fine  sand  lying  on  stretched  parchment  so  as 
to  distribute  them  in  geometrical  figures  that  are  always  the 
eame,  according  to  the  pitch, — qui  te  regular  when  the  com- 
bination  is  a  true  chord,  and  indefinite  when  the  sounds  are 
dissonant, — I  say  that  music  is  an  art  conceived  in  the  very 
bowels  of  nature. 

"Music  is  subject  to  physical  and  mathematical  laws. 
Physical  laws  are  but  little  known,  mathematics  are  well  un- 


GAMBARA  S(49 

derstood;  and  it  is  since  their  relations  hâve  been  studicd, 
that  the  harmony  lias  been  created  to  which  we  owe  the  works 
of  Haydn,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  and  Eossini,  grand  geniuses, 
whose  nnisie  is  undoubtedly  nearer  to  perfection  than  that 
of  their  precursors,  though  their  genius,  too,  is  unquestion- 
able.  The  old  masters  couîd  sing,  but  they  had  not  art  and 
science  at  their  command, — a  noble  alliance  which  enables 
us  to  merge  into  one  the  finest  melody  and  the  power  of  har- 
mony. 

"Now,  if  a  knowledge  of  niathematical  laws  gave  us  thèse 
four  great  musicians,  what  may  we  not  attain  to  if  we  can 
discover  the  physical  laws  in  virtue  of  which — grasp  this 
clearly — we  may  coUect,  in  largcr  or  smaller  quantities,  ac- 
cording  to  the  proportions  we  may  require,  an  ethereal  sub- 
stance diffused  in  the  atmosphère  which  is  the  médium  alike 
of  music  and  of  light,  of  the  phenomena  of  végétation  and  of 
animal  life  !  Do  vou  follow  me  ?  Those  new  laws  would  arm 
the  composer  with  new  powers  by  supplying  him  with  instru- 
ments superior  to  those  now  in  use,  and  perhaps  with 
a  potency  of  harmony  immense  as  compared  with  that  now 
at  his  command.  If  every  modified  shade  of  sound  answers 
to  a  force,  that  must  be  known  to  enable  us  to  combine  ail 
thèse  forces  in  accordance  with  their  true  laws. 

"Composers  work  with  substances  of  which  they  know 
nothing.  Why  should  a  brass  and  a  wooden  instrument — a 
bassoon  and  horn — hâve  so  little  identity  of  tone,  when  they 
act  on  the  same  matter,  the  constituent  gases  of  the  air? 
Their  différences  proceed  from  some  displacement  of  those 
constituents,  from  the  way  they  act  on  the  cléments  which  are 
their  affinity  and  which  they  return,  modified  by  some  occult 
and  unknown  process.  If  we  knew  what  the  process  was, 
science  and  art  would  both  be  the  gainers.  Whatever  ex- 
tends  science  enhances  art. 

"Well,  thèse  are  the  discoveries  I  hâve  guessed  and  made. 
Yes,"  said  Gambara,  with  increasing  véhémence,  "hitherto 
men  hâve  noted  effects  rather  than  causes.  If  they  could  but 
master  the  causes,  music  would  be  the  greatest  of  the  arts. 


860  GAMBARA 

Is  it  not  the  one  whioh  strikes  dccpcst  to  the  soûl?  You  see 
in  paintin^  no  more  thnn  it  shows  you  ;  in  poctry  you  hâve 
only  what  Iho  \)ovt  says;  iinisic  «^oos  far  hoyond  (his.  Docs  it 
not  forin  vour  tasto,  aiul  rousc  dormant  mcinorics?  In  a 
conccrt-room  thorc  may  bo  a  tliousand  soûls;  a  strain  is  flung 
out  fri)m  Pasta's  throat,  the  éxecution  worthily  answering  to 
tlic  idoas  that  flashed  Uirough  llossini's  niind  as  hc  wrote  the 
air.  That  plirase  of  lîossini's,  transmittod  to  thosc  attentive 
eoids,  is  workod  out  in  so  many  difTcrent  pocnis.  To  one  it 
présents  a  woman  long  drcamod  of  ;  to  auollior,  somc  distant 
shore  where  he  wandcred  long  ago.  It  rises  up  bcforc  him 
with  its  drooping  willows,  its  clear  waters,  and  the  hopes  that 
thcn  plavéd  under  its  Icafy  arbors.  One  woman  is  remindod 
of  the  myriad  fcclings  that  tortured  lier  during  an  hour  of 
jealousy,  while  anothcr  thinks  of  tlie  unsatisiied  cravings 
of  her  heart,  and  paints  in  the  glowing  hues  of  a  dream  an 
idéal  lover,  to  whom  slie  abandons  hersclf  with  the  rapture 
of  the  woman  in  the  lîoman  mosaic  who  embraces  a  chimera  ; 
yet  a  third  is  thinking  that  this  very  evening  some  hopod- 
for  joy  is  to  be  hers,  and  rushes  by  anticipation  into  the  tide 
of  happiness,  its  dashing  waves  breaking  against  her  burning 
bosom.  Music  alone  has  this  power  of  throwing  us  back  on 
ourselves;  the  other  arts  give  us  infinité  pleasure.  But  I 
am  digressing. 

"Thèse  were  my  first  ideas,  vague  indccd  ;  for  an  inventor 
at  the  beginning  only  catches  glimpses  of  the  dawn,  as  it  were. 
So  I  kept  thèse  glorious  ideas  at  the  bottom  of  my  knapsack, 
and  they  gave  me  spirit  to  eat  the  dry  crust  I  often  dipped  in 
the  water  of  a  spring.  I  worked,  I  composed  airs,  and,  after 
playing  them  on  any  instrument  that  came  to  hand,  I  went  off 
again  on  foot  across  Italy.  Finally,  at  the  âge  of  two-and- 
twenty,  I  settled  in  Venice,  where  for  the  first  time  I  en- 
joyed  rest  and  found  myself  in  a  décent  position.  I  there 
made  the  acquaintance  of  a  Venetian  nobleman  who  liked  my 
ideas,  who  encouraged  me  in  my  investigations,  and  who  got 
me  employment  at  the  Venice  théâtre. 

'Tiiving  was  cheap,  lodging  inexpensive.    I  had  a  room  in 


QAMBARA  851 

that  Capello  palace  from  which  the  famous  Bianca  came 
forth  one  evening  to  become  a  Grand  Duchess  of  Tuscany. 
And  I  would  dreiim  tliat  niy  unrecognized  famé  would  also 
émerge  from  thence  one  day  to  be  crowned. 

"I  spent  my  evenings  at  the  théâtre  and  my  days  in  work. 
Then  came  disaster.  The  performance  of  an  opéra  in  which 
I  had  experiniented,  trying  my  music,  was  a  failure.  No  one 
understood  my  score  for  the  Martiri.  Set  Beethoven  before 
the  Italians  and  they  are  out  of  their  depth.  No  one  had 
patience  enough  to  wait  for  the  effect  to  be  produced  by  the 
différent  motives  given  out  by  each  instrument,  which  were 
ail  at  last  to  combine  in  a  grand  ensemble. 

"1  had  built  some  hopes  on  the  success  of  the  Martiri,  for 
we  votaries  of  the  blue  divinity  Hope  ahvays  discount  results. 
When  a  man  believes  himself  destined  to  do  great  things,  it 
is  hard  not  to  faney  them  achieved;  the  bushel  always  has 
some  cracks  through  which  the  light  shines. 

"My  wife's  family  lodged  in  the  same  house,  and  the  hope 
of  winning  Marianna,  who  often  smiled  at  me  from  her  win- 
dow,  had  done  much  to  encourage  my  efforts.  I  now  fell  into 
the  deepest  melancholy  as  I  sounded  the  depths  of  the  gulf 
I  had  dropped  into;  for  I  foresaw  plainly  a  life  of  poverty, 
a  perpétuai  struggle  in  which  love  must  die.  Marianna  acted 
as  genius  does;  she  jumped  across  every  obstacle,  both  feet 
at  once.  I  will  not  speak  of  the  little  happiness  which  shed 
its  gilding  on  the  beginning  of  my  misfortunes.  Dismayed 
at  my  failure,  I  decided  that  Italy  was  not  intelligent  enough, 
and  too  much  sunk  in  tho  dull  round  of  routine  to  accept  the 
innovations  I  conceived  of  ;  so  I  thought  of  going  to  Germany. 

"I  traveled  thither  by  way  of  Hungary,  listening  to  the 
myriad  voices  of  nature,  and  trying  to  reproduce  that  sublime 
harmony  by  the  help  of  instruments  which  I  constructed  or 
altered  for  the  purpose.  Thèse  experiments  involved  me  in 
vast  expenses  which  had  soon  exhausted  my  savings.  And 
yet  those  were  our  golden  days.  In  Germany  I  was  appre- 
ciated.  There  has  been  nothing  in  my  life  more  glorious  than 
that  time.    I  can  think  of  nothing  to  compare  with  the  vehe- 


:V->2  «JAMHAUA 

iiitMil  joYS  1  ftniiul  !)}•  thc  t^uio  of  Mariaiiii.i,  whnsc  beauty  was 
tlu'ii  t)f  roally  iK'avcnl}-  radiaiu'o  aiul  spleiulor.  In  shori,  I 
\sas  liapi)}'. 

"Duriiig  that  prriod  of  wcakiioss  l  inorc  tliau  once  oxprosscd 
niy  passion  in  tlio  languagc  of  oartlily  harinony.  1  rvon  wrote 
Boiiie  of  tliosc  airs,  just  like  gootnctrical  paltcrns,  wiiicli  arc 
'so  nuu'li  adinii-rd  in  tli(>  world  of  fasliion  lliat  you  move  in. 
But  as  soon  as  1  niadc  a  litUc  way  I  met  witli  insnppral)lc 
obstacles  raiscd  by  iny  rivais,  ail  liyj)crcrit  ical  or  unapprccia- 
tive. 

"I  liad  bcard  of  France  as  bcing  a  country  whcrc  novclties 
were  favorably  received,  and  I  wanted  to  gct  tbcro;  my  wife 
bad  a  littlc  nioncy  and  we  came  to  Paris.  Till  tbcn  no  onc 
bad  actnally  langbcd  in  my  face;  but  in  tbis  dreadfnl  city  I 
had  to  endure  tbat  new  forju  of  torture,  to  wbicb  abject  pov- 
erty  erc  long  addcd  its  bitter  sufïcrings.  Reduced  to  lodging 
in  tbis  niepbitic  quarter,  for  many  montbs  \vc  bave  lived  ex- 
clusively  on  Marianna's  scwing,  sbc  baving  found  cmploy- 
mcnt  for  ber  needlc  in  working  for  tbe  iinbappy  prostitutes 
wbo  make  tbis  strect  tbeir  bunting  ground.  Marianna  as- 
sures me  tbat  among  tbose  poor  créatures  sbc  bas  met  with 
6uch  considération  and  generosity  as  I,  for  my  part,  ascribe 
to  tbe  ascendency  of  virtue  so  pure  that  even  vice  is  com- 
pelled  to  respect  it." 

"ITopo  on,"  said  Andréa.  "Perbaps  you  bave  reacbcd  tbe 
end  of  your  trials.  And  wbilo  vvaiting  for  tbe  timc  wben  my 
endeavor,  seconding  yours,  sball  set  your  labors  in  a  true 
ligbt,  allow  me,  as  a  fellow-countryman  and  an  artist  like 
yourself,  to  ofîcr  you  some  little  advance  on  tbe  undoubtcd 
success  of  your  score." 

"Ail  tbat  bas  to  do  witb  matters  of  material  existence  I 
leave  to  my  wife,"  replied  Gambara.  "Sbo  will  décide  as  to 
what  we  may  accept  witbout  a  blusb  from  so  tborough  a 
gentleman  as  you  seem  to  be.  For  my  part, — and  it  is  long 
since  I  bave  allowed  myself  to  indulge  sucb  full  confidences, 
— I  must  now  ask  vou  to  allow  me  to  Icavc  vou.  I  sec  a 
melody  bcckoning  to  me,  dancing  and  floating  bcfore  me. 


GAMBARA  353 

bare  and  quivering,  like  a  girl  cntrcating  her  lover  for  her 
clothes  which  he  bas  bidden.  Good-nigbt.  I  must  go  and 
dress  my  mistress.     My  wife  I  leave  witb  you." 

He  biirried  away,  as  a  man  wlio  blâmes  himself  for  the  losa 
of  valuable  time;  and  Marianna,  somewbat  embarrassed, 
prepared  to  follow  bim. 

Andréa  dared  not  detain  ber. 

Giardini  came  to  the  rescue. 

"But  you  board,  signora,"  said  be.  "Your  busband  bas 
left  vou  to  settle  some  little  matters  witb  tbe  Signor  Conte." 

Marianna  sat  down  again,  but  witbout  raising  ber  eyes  to 
Andréa,  wbo  hesitated  before  speaking. 

"And  will  not  Signor  Gambara's  confidence  entitle  me  to 
bis  wife's?"  be  said  in  agitated  tones.  "Can  tbe  fair  Mari- 
anna refuse  to  tell  me  tbe  story  of  ber  life?" 

"My  life  !"  said  Marianna.  '"It  is  tbe  life  of  tbe  ivy.  If 
you  wisb  to  know  tbe  story  of  my  beart,  you  must  suppose  me 
equally  destitute  of  pride  and  of  modesty  if  you  can  ask  me 
to  tell  it  after  wbat  you  bave  just  beard." 

"Of  wbom,  tben,  can  I  ask  it?"  cried  tbe  Count,  in  whoni 
passion  was  blinding  bis  wits. 

"Of  yourself,"  replied  Marianna.  "Eitber  you  understand 
me  by  tbis  time,  or  you  never  will.    Try  to  ask  yourself." 

"I  will,  but  you  must  listen.  And  tbis  band,  wbicb  I  am 
holding,  is  to  lie  in  mine  as  long  as  my  narrative  is  truthful." 

"I  am  listening,"  said  Marianna. 

"A  woman's  life  begins  witb  ber  first  passion,"  said  An- 
dréa. "And  my  dear  Marianna  began  to  live  only  on  the  day 
when  she  first  saw  Paolo  Gambara.  She  needed  some  deep 
passion  to  feed  upon,  and,  above  ail,  some  interesting  weak- 
ness  to  sbelter  and  upbold.  Tbe  beautiful  woman's  nature 
wrth  wbicb  she  is  endowed  is  perhaps  not  so  truly  passion  as 
maternai  love. 

"You  sigh,  Marianna?  I  bave  touched  one  of  the  aching 
wounds  in  your  beart.  It  was  a  noble  part  for  you  to  play, 
BO  young  as  you  were, — tbat  of  protectress  to  a  noble  but 
wandering  intellect.    You  said  to  yourself:  Taolo  will  be  my 


•Cl  GAMnARA 

goiiius;  1  sliall  bc  his  fununon  sonso  ;  betwccn  us  we  shall  bc 
that  alniosl  divine  being  callod  nn  nngel, — tho  sublime 
créature  that  cnjovs  and  understands,  reason  never  stifling 
love.' 

"And  thon,  in  tlic  first  ini]iotiis  of  youth,  you  hcard  tlio 
thousand  voicos  of  nature  whicli  tlio  jKX't  longod  to  roproduce. 
Entliusiasni  olutclicd  you  wlion  Paolo  sproad  boforc  you  tho 
trcasures  of  poetry,  wliilo  sccking  to  oin])ody  thom  in  the 
sublime  liut  rcstrictod  languago  of  iiuisic;  you  admirod  liini 
whon  délirions  rapturo  carriod  liim  up  and  away  from  you, 
for  you  likod  to  boliovo  tliat  ail  tliis  devions  onorgy  would  at 
last  corne  down  and  alight  as  love.  But  you  kncw  net  the 
tyrannous  and  jealous  despotism  of  the  idéal  over  the  minds 
that  fall  in  love  with  it.  Gambara,  before  meeting  you,  had 
given  himsclf  over  to  the  haughty  and  overbearing  mistress, 
with  whom  you  hâve  struggled  for  him  to  this  day. 

"Once,  for  an  instant,  you  had  a  vision  of  happiness. 
Paolo,  tumbling  from  the  lofty  sphère  where  his  spirit  was 
constantly  soaring,  was  amazed  to  fmd  rcality  so  swoet;  you 
fanciod  that  his  madness  would  be  lullod  in  the  arms  of  love. 
But  before  long  Music  again  clutched  her  prey.  The  daz- 
zling  mirage  which  had  cheated  you  into  the  joys  of  reciprocal 
love  made  the  lonely  path  on  which  you  had  started  look  more 
desolate  and  barren. 

"In  the  taie  your  husband  has  just  told  me,  I  could  read, 
as  plainlyas  in  the  contrast  between  your  looks  and  his,  ail  the 
painfull  secrets  of  that  ill-assortod  union,  in  which  you  hâve 
accepted  the  sufferer's  part.  Though  your  conduct  has  been 
unfailingly  heroical,  though  your  firmness  has  never  once 
given  way  in  the  exercise  of  your  painful  duties,  perhaps, 
in  the  silence  of  lonely  nights,  the  heart  that  at  this  moment 
is  beating  so  wildly  in  your  hreast,  may,  from  time  to  time, 
hâve  rebolled.  Your  husband's  superiority  was  in  itsolf  your 
worst  torment.  If  he  had  boen  less  noble,  less  singlo-minded, 
you  might  hâve  deserted  him;  but  his  virtues  upheld  yours; 
you  wondered,  perhaps,  whether  his  heroism  or  your  own 
would  be  the  first  to  give  way. 


GAMBARA  855 

"You  clung  to  yoiir  really  magnanimous  task  as  Paolo 
clung  to  his  cliimera.  If  you  had  had  nothing  but  a  dévotion 
to  duty  to  guide  and  si;stain  3'ou,  triumph  might  hâve  seemed 
easier;  you  would  only  havc  had  to  crush  your  heart,  and 
transfer  your  life  into  thc  world  of  abstractions;  religion 
would  hâve  absorbed  ail  else,  and  you  would  hâve  lived  for 
an  idea,  like  those  saintly  women  who  kill  ail  the  instincts  of 
nature  at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  But  the  all-pervading  charra 
of  Paolo,  the  loftiness  of  his  mind,  his  rare  and  touching 
proofs  of  tendernesSjConstantly  drag  you  down  from  that  idéal 
realm  where  virtue  would  fain  maintain  you  ;  they  perennially 
revive  in  you  the  énergies  you  hâve  exhausted  in  contending 
with  the  phantom  of  love.  You  never  suspected  this  !  The 
faintest  glimmer  of  hope  led  you  on  in  pursuit  of  the  sweet 
vision, 

"At  last  the  disappointments  of  many  years  hâve  under- 
mined  your  patience, — an  angel  would  bave  lost  it  long 
since, — and  now  the  apparition  so  long  pursued  is  no  more 
than  a  shade  without  substance.  Madness  that  is  so  nearly 
allied  to  genius  can  know  no  cure  in  this  world.  When  this 
thought  first  struck  you,  you  looked  back  on  your  past  youth, 
sacrificed,  if  not  wasted;  you  then  bitterly  discerned  the 
blunder  of  nature  that  had  given  you  a  father  when  you 
looked  for  a  husbaud.  You  asked  yourself  whether  you  had 
not  gone  beyond  the  duty  of  a  wife  in  keeping  yourself  ^ 
wholly  for  a  man  who  was  bound  up  in  his  science.  Mari- 
anna,  leave  your  hand  in  mine  ;  ail  I  hâve  said  is  true.  And 
you  looked  about  you — but  now  you  were  in  Paris,  not  in 
Italy,  where  men  know  how  to  love " 

"Oh  !  Let  me  finish  the  taie,"  cried  Marianna.  "I  would 
rather  say  things  myself .  I  will  be  honest  ;  I  feel  that  I  am 
speaking  to  my  truest  friend.  Yes,  I  was  in  Paris  when  ail 
you  hâve  expressed  so  clearly  took  place  in  my  mind  ;  but 
when  I  saw  vou  I  was  saved,  for  I  had  never  met  with  the 
love  I  had  dreamed  of  from  my  childhood.  My  poor  dress 
and  my  dwelling-place  had  hidden  me  from  the  eyes  of 
men  of  your  class.     A  few  young  men,  whose  position  did 


nr>«  r.AMHARA 

iidt  iilldw  of  iln'ir  insuit iiig  me,  wvvo  ail  thc  mon'  iutolcrable 
for  tlio  lovily  with  whioh  Ihoy  troalod  me.  Some  madc  gamo 
t)f  my  luisband.  as  if  lu>  wcrc  mcrcly  a  ridiciilous  old  maii  ; 
otiiors  basoly  Iried  to  win  liis  good  grâces  to  belray  me;  one 
and  ail  ta]k(>d  of  getliiig  me  away  from  bim,  and  none  under- 
Blood  tlie  dévotion  1  feel  for  a  sonl  (bat  is  so  far  away  from 
\is  only  beoanse  it  is  so  near  lieaven,  for  Huit  friend,  thut 
brotber,  wbose  handmaid  1  w  ill  always  be. 

"You  alone  understood,  did  you  not?  tbe  tie  that  binds  me 
to  liim.  Tell  me  tbat  you  feel  a  sincère  and  disinterested  re- 
gard for  my  Paolo " 

*'I  gladly  accept  your  praiscs,"  Andréa  interrupted  ;  "but 
go  no  further;  do  not  eompel  me  to  contradict  you.  I  love 
you,  Marianna,  as  we  love  in  tlie  lieautiful  country  where  wc 
botb  were  born.  I  love  you  with  ail  my  soûl  and  with  ail  my 
strength  ;  but  before  offering  you  that  love,  I  will  be  worthy 
of  yours.  I  will  make  a  last  attempt  to  givc  baek  to  you  the 
man  you  bave  loved  so  long  and  will  love  forever.  Till  suc- 
cess  or  defeat  is  certain,  accept  without  any  shame  the  modest 
ease  I  can  give  you  both.  We  will  go  to-morrow  and  choose 
a  place  where  he  may  live, 

"Hâve  you  sueh  regard  for  me  as  will  allow  you  to  make 
me  the  partner  in  your  guardianship?" 

Marianna,  surprised  at  such  magnanimity,  held  oui  her 
hand  to  the  Count,  who  went  away,  trying  to  évade  the  civili- 
ties  of  Giardini  and  his  wife. 

On  the  following  day  Giardini  took  the  Count  up  to  the 
room  where  the  Gambaras  lodged.  Though  Marianna  fully 
knew  her  lovers  noble  soûl, — for  there  are  natures  which 
quickly  enter  into  each  other's  spirit, — Marianna  was  too 
good  a  housewife  not  to  betray  her  annoyance  at  receiving 
such  a  fine  gentleman  in  so  humble  a  room,  Everything  was 
exquisitely  clean.  She  had  spent  the  niorning  in  dusting  her 
motley  fumiture,  the  handiwork  of  Signor  Giardini,  who  had 
put  it  together,  at  odd  moments  of  leisure,  out  of  the  frag- 
ments of  the  instrumente  rejected  by  Gambara. 


GAMBARA  357 

Andréa  had  never  scen  anything  quite  so  crazy.  To  keop  a 
décent  coimtenance  he  turncd  away  from  a  grotesque  bed, 
contrived  by  the  ingenious  cook  in  the  case  of  an  old  harpsi- 
chord,  and  looked  at  Marianna's  narrow  couch,  of  which  the 
single  mattress  was  covered  with  a  white  muslin  counterpane, 
a  circumstance  that  gave  rise  in  his  mind  to  some  sad  but 
sweet  thoughts. 

He  wished  to  speak  of  his  phms  and  of  his  morning's  work; 
but  Gambara,  in  his  enthusiasm,  believing  that  he  had  at  last 
met  with  a  willing  listener,  took  possession  of  him,  and  com- 
pelled  him  to  listen  to  the  opéra  he  had  written  for  Paris. 

"In  the  first  place,  monsieur,"  said  the  composer,  "allow 
me  to  explain  the  subject  in  a  few  words.  Hère,  the  hearers 
receiving  a  musical  impression  do  not  work  it  out  in  them- 
selves,  as  religion  bids  us  work  out  the  texts  of  Scripture  in 
prayer.  Hence  it  is  very  difficult  to  make  them  understand 
that  there  is  in  nature  an  eternal  melody,  exquisitely  sweet,  a 
perfect  harmony,  disturbed  only  by  révolutions  indépendant 
of  the  divine  will,  as  passions  are  uncontrolled  by  the  will  of 
men. 

"I,  therefore,  had  to  seek  a  vast  framework  in  which  effect 
and  cause  might  both  be  included;  for  the  aim  of  my  music 
is  to  give  a  picture  of  the  life  of  nations  from  the  loftiest 
point  of  view.  My  opéra,  for  which  I  myself  wrote  the 
lihretto,  for  a  poet  would  never  hâve  fully  developed  the 
subject,  is  the  life  of  Mahomet, — a  figure  in  whom  the  magie 
of  Sabœanism  combined  with  the  Oriental  poetry  of  the  He- 
brew  Scriptures  to  resuit  in  one  of  the  greatest  human  epics, 
the  Arab  dominion.  Mahomet  certainly  derived  from  the 
Hebrews  the  idea  of  a  despotic  government,  and  from  the 
religion  of  the  shepherd  tribes  or  Sabœans  the  spirit  of  ex- 
pansion which  created  the  splendid  empire  of  the  Khalifs. 
His  destiny  was  stamped  on  him  in  his  birth,  for  his  father 
was  a  heathen  and  his  mother  a  Jewess.  Ah  !  my  dear  Count, 
to  be  a  great  musician  a  man  must  be  very  learned,  Without 
knowledge  he  can  get  no  local  color  and  put  no  ideas  into  his 
music.  The  composer  who  sings  for  singing's  sake  is  an  arti- 
san, not  an  artist. 
23 


35«  GAMBARA 

"Tliia  mngnificont  oporii  is  tlie  continuntion  of  the  great 
work  I  projoctotl.  My  iîrst  opéra  was  callod  The  Marti/rs, 
aiul  I  intond  to  wrilo  a  third  on  Jorusalcni  dclivered.  You 
perçoive  tlio  bcauty  of  tliis  triloixy  and  wliat  a  variety  of 
motives  it  ofTers, — the  ^lartyrs,  Mahomet,  Ihc  Deliveranco  of 
Jérusalem  :  the  Cod  of  tlie  West,  tlie  Cod  of  the  East,  and  the 
struggle  of  their  worshipcrs  over  a  tomb.  But  we  will  net 
dwoll  on  my  famé,  now  for  ever  lost. 

"This  is  the  argument  of  my  opéra."  TTe  paused.  "The 
fîrst  act,"  ho  went  on,  "shows  ^lahoniet  as  a  porter  to  Kadijah, 
a  rioh  widow  with  whom  his  uncle  plaeed  him.  Hc  is  in  love 
and  ambitious.  Driven  from  Mecca,  he  escapes  to  Médina, 
and  dates  his  era  from  his  flight,  the  Ilegira.  In  the  second 
act  he  is  a  Prophet,  founding  a  militant  religion.  Tn  the 
third,  disgusted  with  ail  things,  having  oxhausted  life,  Ma- 
homet conceals  the  manner  of  his  death  in  the  hope  of  being 
regarded  as  a  god, — last  effort  of  human  pride. 

"Now  you  shall  judge  of  my  way  of  expressing  in  sound 
a  great  idea,  for  which  poetry  could  find  no  adéquate  expres- 
sion in  words." 

Gambara  sat  down  to  the  piano  with  an  absorbed  gaze,  and 
his  wife  brought  him  the  mass  of  papers  forming  his  score; 
but  he  did  not  open  them. 

"The  whole  opéra,"  said  he,  "is  founded  on  a  bass,  as  on  a 
fruitful  soil.  Mahomet  was  to  hâve  a  majestic  bass  voice, 
and  his  wife  necessarily  had  a  contralto.  Kadijah  was  quite 
old — twenty  !  Attention  !  This  is  the  overture.  It  begins 
with  an  andanie  in  C  major,  triple  time.  Do  you  hear  the 
sadness  of  the  ambitious  man  who  is  not  satisfied  with  love? 
Then,  through  his  lamentation,  by  a  transition  to  the  key  of 
E  flat,  allegro,  common  time,  we  hear  the  cries  of  the  epileptic 
lover,  his  fury  and  certain  warlike  phrases,  for  the  mighty 
Bcimitar  of  the  Khalifs  begins  to  gleam  before  him.  The 
charms  of  the  one  and  only  woman  give  him  the  impulse 
to  multiplied  loves  which  strikes  us  in  Don  Giovanni.  Now, 
as  you  hear  thèse  thèmes,  do  you  not  catch  a  glimpse  of 
Mahomet's  Paradise? 


GAMBARA  359 

"And  next  we  hâve  a  cantahih  (A  flat  major,  six-eight 
time),  that  might  expand  the  soûl  that  is  least  susceptible  to 
music.  Kadijah  lias  understood  Mahomet  !  Then  Kadijah 
announces  to  the  populace  the  Prophet's  interviews  with  the 
Angel  Gabriel  {maestoso  sostenuto  in  F  major).  The  mag- 
istrates  and  priests,  power  and  religion,  feeling  themselves 
attacked  by  the  innovator,  as  Christ  and  Socrates  also  at- 
tacked  effete  or  worn-out  powers  and  religions,  persécute 
Mahomet  and  drive  him  out  of  Mecca  {stretto  in  C  major). 
Then  cornes  my  beautiful  dominant  (G  major,  common 
time).  Arabia  now  harkens  to  the  Prophet;  horsemen  arrive 
(G  major,  E  flat,  B  flat,  G  minor,  and  still  common  time). 
The  mass  of  men  gathers  like  an  avalanche  ;  the  false  Prophet 
has  begun  on  a  tribe  the  work  he  will  achieve  over  a  world 
(G  major). 

"He  promises  the  Arabs  universal  dominion,  and  they  be- 
lieve  him  because  he  is  inspired.  The  crescendo  beings  (still 
in  the  dominant).  Hère  come  some  flourishes  (in  C  major) 
f rom  the  brass,  founded  on  the  harmony,  but  strongly  marked, 
and  asserting  themselves  as  an  expression  of  the  first 
triumphs.  Médina  has  gone  over  to  the  Prophet,  and  the 
whole  army  marches  on  Mecca  (an  explosion  of  sound  in  C 
major).  The  whole  power  of  the  orchestra  is  worked  up  like 
a  conflagration  ;  every  instrument  is  employed  ;  it  is  a  torrent 
of  harmony. 

"Suddenly  the  tutti  is  interrupted  by  a  flowing  air  (on 
the  minor  third).  You  hear  the  last  strain  of  devoted  love. 
The  woman  who  had  upheld  the  great  man  dies  concealing 
her  despair,  dies  at  the  moment  of  triumph  for  him  in  whom 
love  has  become  too  overbearing  to  be  content  with  one  woman  ; 
and  she  worships  him  enough  to  sacrifice  herself  to  the 
greatness  of  the  man  who  is  killing  her.  What  a  blaze  of 
love  ! 

"Then  the  Désert  rises  to  overrun  the  world  (back  to  C 
major) .  The  whole  strength  of  the  orchestra  comes  in  again, 
collected  in  a  tremendous  quintet  grounded  on  the  funda- 
mental  bass, — and  he  is  dying!     Mahomet  is  world- weary; 


300  CÎAMHAUA 

lir  lias  oxliauslotl  overything.  Now  lie  craves  to  die  a  god. 
Arabia,  iii  facl,  worsliips  and  prays  lo  hiin,  and  wo  return 
to  tho  first  nu'laïu'holy  strain  (('  miiior)  lo  wliich  thc  curtain 
rose. 

"Now,  do  you  not  disccrn,"  eaid  Cambara,  ccasing  to  play, 
aiul  lurning  to  tho  Count,  "in  tins  picturosque  and  vivid 
niusie — abrupt,  grotesque,  or  niolanelioly,  but  always  grand 
— tbe  complète  expression  of  tlie  life  of  an  epileptic,  niad 
for  enjoynient,  unable  to  read  or  write,  using  ail  his  defects 
as  stepping-slones,  turning  every  blunder  and  disaster  iuto  a 
triunipli  ?  Did  not  you  feel  a  sensé  of  his  fascination  cxcrted 
over  a  greedy  aiul  hislful  race,  in  this  overturc,  which  is  an 
epitonie  of  tbe  opéra  ?" 

At  first  calni  and  stern,  tbe  niaestro's  face,  in  which  Andréa 
bad  been  trying  to  read  tbe  ideas  be  was  uttering  in  inspired 
tones,  though  tbe  chaotic  flood  of  notes  afforded  no  clue  to 
them,  bad  by  degrees  glowed  with  fire  and  assumed  an  im- 
passioned  force  that  infected  Marianna  and  tbe  cook. 
ifarianna,  too,  deeply  alïeotcd  by  certain  passages  in  which 
she  recognizcd  a  picture  of  lier  own  position,  could  not  con- 
ceal  tbe  expression  of  her  eyes  from  Andréa. 

Gambara  wiped  his  brow,  and  sbot  a  glance  at  the  ceiling 
of  such  tierce  energy  that  be  seemed  to  pierce  it  and  soar  to 
the  very  skies. 

"You  bave  seen  tbe  vestibule,"  said  he  ;  "we  will  now  enter 
the  palace.     The  opéra  begins: — 

"Act  I.  Mahomet,  alone  on  the  stage,  begins  with-  an  air 
(F  natural,  common  time),  interrupted  by  a  chorus  of  camel- 
drivers  gatbered  round  a  well  at  tbe  back  of  the  stage  (they 
sing  in  contrary  time — twelve-eigbt).  What  majestic  woe! 
It  will  appeal  to  tbe  most  frivolous  woraen,  piercing  to  their 
imnost  nerves  if  they  bave  no  heart.  Is  not  this  the  very  ex- 
pression of  crushed  genius?" 

To  Andrea's  great  astonishment, — for  Marianna  was  ac- 
customed  to  it, — Gambara  contracted  his  larynx  to  such  a 
pitch  that  the  only  sound  was  a  stifled  cry  not  unlike  the  bark 
of  a  watch-dog  that  bas  lost  its  voice.  A  sligbt  foam  came  to 
the  composer's  lips  and  made  Andréa  shudder. 


GAMBARA  361 

"His  wife  appears  (A  minor).  Such  a  magnifîcent  duet  ! 
In  this  numbcr  I  hâve  shown  that  Mahomet  has  thc  will  and 
his  wife  the  brains.  Kadijah  announccs  that  she  is  about 
to  dévote  herself  to  an  cnterprise  that  will  rob  her  of  her 
yoimg  husband's  love.  Mahomet  means  to  conquer  the  world  ; 
this  his  wife  has  guessed,  and  she  supports  him  by  persuading 
the  people  of  Mecca  that  her  husband's  attacks  of  epilepsy  are 
the  effect  of  his  intercourse  with  the  angcls  (chorus  of  the 
first  followers  of  Mahomet,  who  come  to  promise  him  their 
aid,  C  sharp  minor,  sotto  voce).  Mahomet  goes  off  to  seok 
the  Angel  Gabriel  (recitative  in  F  major).  His  Avife  en- 
courages the  disciples  (aria,  interrupted  by  the  chorus; 
gusts  of  chanting  support  Kadijah's  broad  and  majestic  air, 
A  major). 

"Abdallah,  the  father  of  Ayesha, — the  only  maiden  Ma- 
homet had  found  really  innocent,  wherefore  he  changed  the 
name  of  Abdallah  to  Abubekir  (the  father  of  the  virgin), — 
cornes  forward  with  Ayesha  and  sings  against  the  chorus, 
in  strains  which  rise  above  the  other  voices  and  supplément 
the  air  sung  by  Kadijah  in  contrapuntal  treatment.  Omar, 
the  father  of  another  maiden  who  is  to  be  Mahomet's  con- 
cubine, follows  Abubekir's  example  ;  he  and  his  daughter 
join  in  to  form  a  quintette.  The  girl  Ayesha  is  first  soprano, 
Hafsa  second  soprano;  Abubekir  is  a  bass,  Omar  a  baritone. 

"Mahomet  returns,  inspired.  He  sings  his  first  hravura 
air,  the  beginning  of  the  finale  (E  major),  promising  the 
empire  of  the  world  to  those  who  believe  in  him.  The 
Prophet,  seeing  the  two  damsels,  then,  by  a  gentle  transi- 
tion (from  B  major  to  G  major),  addresses  them  in  amorous 
tones.  Ali,  Mahomet's  cousin,  and  Khaled,  his  greatest  gên- 
erai, both  ténors,  now  arrive  and  announce  the  persécution  ; 
the  magistrates,  the  military,  and  the  authorities  hâve  ail 
proscribed  the  Prophet  (recitative).  Mahomet  déclares  in 
an  invocation  (in  C)  that  the  Angel  Gabriel  is  on  his  side, 
and  points  to  a  pigeon  that  is  seen  flying  away.  The  chorus 
of  believers  responds  in  accents  of  dévotion  (on  a  modulation 
to  B  major).     The  soldiers,  magistrates,  and  officiais  then 


862  GAMBARA 

como  on  (tempo  di  marcia,  comnion  timp,  B  major).  A 
cliorus  in  two  divisions  (strctto  in  E  major).  Mahomet 
yiolds  to  the  storni  (in  a  dosconding  j)]irase  of  diniinishcd 
sevenths)  and  makos  lus  cscape.  The  Tierce  and  gh)()my  lone 
of  this  finale  is  relicvcd  hy  the  phrases  j][iven  lo  the  three  wo- 
nien  who  forctell  !Mahomet's  triumph,  and  thèse  motives  are 
furthcr  deveh^ped  in  the  third  aet  in  the  scène  where  Ma- 
Ihunot  is  enjoyinf^  his  yphnidor." 

The  tears  rose  to  lîanihara's  eyes,  and  it  was  only  upon  con- 
trolling  liis  émotion  that  he  went  on. 

"Act  II.  The  religion  is  now  estahlished.  The  Arabs  are 
guarding  the  Propliet's  tent  while  he  speaks  with  God  (chorus 
in  A  minor).  ^lahomet  appears  (a  praycr  in  F).  What  a 
majostic  and  nol)le  slrain  is  this  that  forms  the  bass  of  the 
voiccs,  in  which  I  hâve  pcrhaps  cnlarged  the  borders  of 
melody,  It  was  ncedful  to  express  the  wonderful  encrgy  of 
this  great  human  movement  which  created  an  architecture, 
a  music,  a  poetry  of  its  own,  a  costume  and  manners.  As 
you  listen,  you  are  walking  under  the  arcades  of  the  Gen- 
eralife,  the  carved  vaults  of  the  Alhambra.  The  runs  and 
trills  depict  that  délicate  mauresque  décoration,  and  the 
gallant  and  valorous  religion  which  was  destined  to  wage 
war  against  the  gallant  and  valorous  chivalry  of  Christen- 
dora.  A  few  brass  instruments  awake  in  the  orchestra,  an- 
nouncing  the  Prophet's  first  triumph  (in  a  broken  cadenza). 
The  Arabs  adore  the  Prophet  (E  flat  major),  and  Khaled, 
Amru,  and  Ali  arrive  (tempo  di  marcia).  The  armies  of 
the  faithful  hâve  taken  many  towns  and  subjugated  the  three 
Arabias.  Such  a  grand  recitative  ! — Mahomet  rewards  his 
gênerais  by  presenting  them  with  maidens. 

"And  hère,"  said  Gambara,  sadly,  "there  is  one  of  those 
wretched  ballets,  which  internipt  the  thread  of  the  finest 
musical  tragédies  !  But  Mahomet  élevâtes  it  once  more  by 
his  great  prophétie  scène,  which  poor  Monsieur  Voltaire  be- 
gins  with  thèse  words: 

"Arabia's  time  at  laet  h?is  corne! 


GAMBARA  863 

"He  is  interrupted  by  a  chorus  of  triumphant  Arabs 
(twelve-eight  time,  accelerando) .  The  tribes  arrive  in 
crowds  ;  the  horns  and  brass  reappear  in  the  orchestra.  Gen- 
eral rejoicings  ensue,  ail  the  voices  joining  in  by  degrees,  and 
Mahomet  aunounces  polygamy.  In  the  midst  of  ail  this 
triumph,  the  woman  who  lias  been  of  such  faithf ul  service  to 
Mahomet  sings  a  maguificent  air  (in  B  major).  'And  I,' 
says  she,  'am  I  no  longer  loved?'  'We  must  part.  Thou  art 
but  a  woman,  and  I  ani  a  Prophet  ;  I  may  still  hâve  slaves  but 
no  equal.'  Just  listen  to  this  duet  (G  sharp  minor).  What 
anguish  !  The  woman  understands  the  greatness  lier  hands 
hâve  built  up;  she  loves  Mahomet  well  enough  to  sacrifice 
herself  to  his  glory  ;  she  worships  him  as  a  god,  without 
criticising  him, — without  murmuring.  Poor  woman  !  His 
first  dupe  and  his  first  victim  ! 

"What  a  subject  for  the  finale  (in  B  major)  is  her  grief, 
brought  out  in  such  sombre  hues  against  the  acclamations  of 
the  chorus,  and  mingling  with  Mahomet's  tones  as  he  throws 
his  wife  aside  as  a  tool  of  no  further  use,  still  showing  her 
that  he  can  never  forget  lier  !  What  fireworks  of  triumph  ! 
what  a  rush  of  glad  and  rippling  song  go  up  from  the  two 
young  voices  (first  and  second  soprano)  of  Ayesha  and  Hafsa, 
supported  by  Ali  and  his  wife,  by  Omar  and  xA.bubekir  ! 
Weep  ! — rejoice  ! — Triumph  and  tears  !    Such  is  life." 

Marianna  could  not  control  her  tears,  and  Andréa  was  so 
deeply  nioved  that  his  eyes  were  moist.  The  Neapolitan  cook 
was  startled  by  the  magnetic  influence  of  the  ideas  expressed 
by  Gambara's  convulsive  accents. 

The  composer  looked  round,  saw  the  group,  and  smiled. 

"At  last  you  understand  me  !"  said  he. 

N"o  conqueror,  led  in  pomp  to  the  Capitol  under  the  purple 
beams  of  glory,  as  the  crown  was  placed  on  his  head  amid 
the  acclamations  of  a  nation,  ever  wore  such  an  expression. 
The  composer's  face  was  radiant,  like  that  of  a  holy  martyr. 
No  one  dispelled  the  error.  A  terrible  smile  parted 
Marianna's  lips.  The  Count  was  appalled  by  the  guileless- 
ness  of  tjiis  mania. 


3tM  (JAMMAKA 

"Act  III."  said  tho  fiu'liaiitcd  iiiusii-iaii,  rcscatiiig  liim- 
solf  at  tlu'  piano.  "'{Atulautino,  solo.)  Mahomet  in  his 
soraglio,  yiirroumloil  liv  woiiu'n,  but  noi  liajipy.  (^nartotle 
of  llouris  (A  major).  Wliat  ponipous  liarniony,  wliat  (rills 
as  of  ecstatic  nightingaU's  !  Modulation  (inio  F  sharp 
niinor).  Tlie  tlu'nu'  is  t^talcd  (on  tlie  dominant  E  and  rc- 
poaU'd  in  F  major),  llere  cvory  dolight  is  groiipcd  and  ex- 
prossed  to  givc  eiïect  to  the  contrast  of  thc  gloomy  /iîiale  of 
the  first  act.  After  the  dancing,  ilaliomct  rises  and  sings  a 
grand  hravura  air  (in  F  niinor),  repclling  (he  perfect  and 
devoted  \o\q  of  liis  first  wife,  but  confcssing  liimsolf  con- 
([uerod  by  polygamy.  Never  bas  a  musician  had  so  fine  a 
subjcct  !  The  orclicstra  and  thc  chorus  of  female  voices  ex- 
press the  joys  of  the  Houris,  while  ]\rahomct  rcverts  to  the 
melanclioly  strain  of  the  opening.  Where  is  Beethoven," 
criod  Gaînl)ara,  "to  apprcciate  this  prodigious  réaction  of  my 
opéra  on  itsclf  ?     IIow  complctely  it  ail  rests  on  thc  bass. 

"It  is  tlîus  that  Beethoven  composed  his  E  minor  sym- 
phony.  But  his  heroic  work  is  purely  instrumental,  whereas 
hère,  my  heroic  phrase  is  worked  out  on  a  sextette  of  the 
finest  human  voices,  and  a  chorus  of  thc  faithful  on  guard 
at  the  door  of  thc  sacrcd  dvvelling.  I  bave  cvcry  resource 
of  melod}^  and  harmony  at  my  command,  an  orchestra  and 
voices.  Listen  to  the  utterance  of  ail  thèse  phases  of  human 
life,  rich  and  poor  ; — battle,  triumph,  and  exhaustion  ! 

"Ali  arrives,  the  Koran  prevails  in  every  province  (duet 
in  D  minor).  Mahomet  places  himsclf  in  the  hands  of  his 
two  fathers-in-law;  he  will  abdicate  his  rule  and  die  in  re- 
ti rement  to  consolidate  his  work.  A  magnificent  sextette  (B 
flat  major).  Ile  takes  leave  of  ail  (solo  in  F  natural),  His 
Iwo  fathers-in-law,  constituted  his  vicars  or  Khalifs,  appeal 
to  the  people.  A  great  triumphal  march,  and  a  prayer  by 
ail  the  Arabs  knoeling  before  the  sacrcd  house,  thc  Kasbah, 
frora  which  a  pigeon  is  seen  to  fly  away  (the  same  key). 
This  prayer,  sung  by  sixty  voices  and  led  by  the  women  (in 
B  flat),  cro\yns  the  stupendous  work  expressive  of  the  life  of 


GAMBARA  365 

nations  and  of  man.     Hère  you  hâve  every  émotion,  human 
and  divine." 

Andréa  gazed  at  Gambara  in  blank  amazement.  Though 
at  first  he  had  been  struck  by  the  terrible  irony  of  the  situa- 
tion,— this  man  expressing  the  feelings  of  Mahomet's  wife 
Avithout  discovering  thcm  in  ]\Iarianna, — the  husband's 
hallucination  was  as  nothing  compared  with  the  composeras. 
There  was  no  hint  even  of  a  poetical  or  musical  idca  in  the 
hideous  cacophony  with  which  he  had  deluged  their  ears  ;  the 
first  principles  of  harmony,  the  most  elcmentary  rules  of  com- 
position, were  absolutely  alicn  to  this  chaotic  structure.  In- 
stead  of  the  scientifically  compacted  music  which  Gambara 
described,  his  fingers  produccd  séquences  of  fifths,  sevenths, 
and  octaves,  of  major  thirds,  progressions  of  fourths  with  no 
supporting  bass, — a  medley  of  discordant  sounds  struck  out 
haphazard  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  excruciating  to  the  least 
sensitive  ear.  It  is  difficult  to  give  any  idca  of  the  grotesque 
performance.  New  words  would  be  needed  to  describe  this 
impossible  music. 

Andréa,  painfully  affected  by  this  worthy  man's  madness, 
colored,  and  stole  a  glanée  at  Marianna;  while  she,  turning 
pale  and  looking  down,  could  not  restrain  hcr  tears.  In  the 
midst  of  this  chaos  of  notes,  Gambara  had  every  now  and 
then  given  vent  to  his  rapture  in  exclamations  of  delight. 
He  had  closed  his  eyes  in  ecstasy;  had  smiled  at  his  piano; 
had  looked  at  it  with  a  frowm  ;  put  out  his  tongue  at  it  after 
the  fashion  of  the  inspired  performer, — in  short,  was  quite 
intoxicated  with  the  poetry  that  fillcd  his  brain,  and  that  he 
had  vainly  striven  to  utter.  The  strange  discords  that  clashed 
under  his  fingers  had  obviously  soundcd  in  his  ears  like 
celestial  harmonies. 

A  deaf  man,  seeing  the  inspired  gaze  of  his  blue  eyes 
open  on  another  world,  the  rosy  glow  that  tinged  his  cheeks, 
and,  above  ail,  the  heavenly  serenity  which  ecstasy  stamped 
on  his  proud  and  noble  countenance,  would  hâve  supposed 
that  he  was  looking  on  at  the  improvisation  of  a  really  great 
artist.     The  illusion  would  hâve  been  ail  the  more  natural 


886  GAMHAKA 

bocnuso  tlie  porfornmnce  of  Ihis  niad  nnisic  roquirod  immense 
executive  skill  to  aeliieve  sucli  fingering.  Cambaru  inust  hâve 
worked  at  it  for  years. 

Nur  were  lus  hamls  alone  eniiiluyecl  ;  his  foet  were  coii- 
stautly  at  work  with  eoiiij)licateil  peilaliiif;;  lus  body  swayed 
to  and  f ro  ;  the  perspiration  poured  dowii  his  face  wliile  he 
toiled  to  prodiice  a  great  crescendo  with  tlie  feeblc  means 
the  thankk'^ss  instrument  plaeed  at  his  eoinmand.  Ile 
Btamped,  j)uiTed,  shouted  ;  liis  (in<j:ers  were  as  swift  as  the 
serpent's  double  tongue;  and  fmally,  at  the  last  crash  on 
the  keys,  he  fell  back  in  his  chair,  resting  his  head  on  the  top 
of  it. 

"Pcr  Bacco!  I  am  quite  stunnod,"  said  the  Count  as  he 
left  the  bouse.  "A  child  dancing  on  the  keyboard  would 
make  better  music." 

"Certainly  mère  chance  could  not  more  successfully  avoid 
hitting  two  notes  in  concord  than  that  possessed  créature 
has  done  during  the  past  hour,"  said  Giardini. 

"How  is  it  that  the  regular  beautv  of  Marianna's  fcatures  is 
not  spoiled  by  incessantly  hearing  snch  a  hideous  medley?" 
said  the  Count  to  himself.  "Marianna  will  certainly  grow 
ugly." 

"Signer,  she  must  be  saved  from  that,"  cricd  Giardini. 

"Yes,"  said  Andréa.  "I  hâve  thought  of  that.  Still,  to 
be  sure  that  my  plans  are  not  bascd  on  error,  I  must  con- 
firm  my  doubts  by  another  experiment.  I  will  return  and 
examine  the  instruments  he  has  invented.  To-morrow,  after 
dinner,  we  \vill  hâve  a  little  supper.  I  will  send  in  some 
wine  and  little  dishes." 

The  cook  bowed. 

Andréa  spent  the  following  day  in  supcrintending  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  rooms  where  he  meant  to  install  the  artist 
in  a  humble  home. 

In  the  evening  the  Count  made  his  appearance,  and  found 
the  wine,  according  to  his  instructions,  set  out  with  some 
care  by  Marianna  and  Giardini.  Gambara  proudly  e.xhibited 
the  little  drums,  on  which  lay  the  power  by  means  of  which 


GAMBARA  867 

he  made  his  observations  on  the  pitch  and  quality  of  the 
sounds  emitted  by  his  instruments. 

"You  see,"  said  he,  "by  what  simple  means  I  can  prove  the 
most  important  propositions.  Acoustics  thus  can  show  me 
the  analogous  effects  of  sound  on  every  object  of  its  impact. 
Ail  harmonies  start  from  a  common  centre  and  préserve  the 
closest  relations  among  themselves;  or  rather,  harmony,  like 
light,  is  decomposable  by  our  art  as  a  ray  is  by  a  prism." 

He  then  displayed  the  instruments  constructed  in  accord- 
ance  with  his  laws,  explaining  the  changes  he  had  introduced 
into  their  constitution.  Anjl  fmally  he  announccd  that  to 
conclude  this  preliminary  inspection,  which  could  only  satisfy 
a  superficial  curiosity,  he  would  perform  on  an  instrument 
that  contained  ail  the  éléments  of  a  complète  orchestra,  and 
which  he  called  a  Panharmonicon. 

"If  it  is  the  machine  in  that  huge  case,  which  brings 
down  on  us  the  complaints  of  the  neighborhood  whenever  you 
work  at  it,  you  will  not  play  on  it  long,"  said  Giardini.  "The 
police  will  interfère.     Eemember  that  !" 

"If  that  poor  idiot  stays  in  the  room,"  said  Gambara  in  a 
whisper  to  the  Count,  "I  cannot  possibly  play." 

Andréa  dismissed  the  cook,  promising  a  handsome  reward 
if  he  would  keep  watch  outside  and  hinder  the  neighbors  or  the 
police  from  interfering.  Giardini,  who  had  not  stinted  him- 
self  while  helping  Gambara  to  wine,  was  quite  willing. 

Gambara,  without  being  drunk,  was  in  the  condition  when 
every  power  of  the  brain  is  over-wrought  ;  when  the  walls 
of  the  room  are  transparent;  when  the  garret  bas  no  roof, 
and  the  soûl  soars  in  the  empyrean  of  spirits. 

Marianna,  with  some  little  difficulty,  removed  the  covers 
from  an  instrument  as  large  as  a  grand  piano,  but  with  an 
upper  case  added.  This  strange-looking  instrument,  besides 
this  second  body  and  its  keyboard,  supported  the  openings  or 
bells  of  varions  wind  instruments  and  the  closed  funnels  of 
a  few  organ  pipes. 

"Will  you  play  me  the  prayer  you  say  is  so  fine  at  the  end 
of  your  opéra  ?"  said  the  Count. 


868  c;a.mhaha 

To  thc  grcnt  surprise  of  holh  Marinnna  and  thc  Count, 
(îambara  bo^aii  witli  a  succession  of  chords  tliat  j)roc]aiiiio(l 
him  a  niastcr;  aiul  Ihcir  nstonislimciit  ^avc  way  firsi  to 
nuiazcd  admiration  and  tlien  to  pcrfcct  ra])tiin',  cITacing  ail 
thought  of  the  place  and  the  pcrfornicr.  'Plio  clTocts  of  a 
rcal  orchestra  could  not  liavc  hccii  fiiicr  (lian  ilio  voices  of 
thc  wind  instruments,  wliich  werc  like  (hose  of  an  orj^an  and 
combincd  wonderfully  with  the  harmonies  of  the  striniis. 
But  the  unrinished  condition  of  the  machine  set  limils  to 
the  composer's  exécution,  and  his  idea  seemed  ail  the  greater; 
for,  often,  the  very  perfection  of  a  work  of  art  liniits  its  sug- 
gestiveness  to  the  récipient  soûl.  Is  not  this  proved  by  the 
préférence  accorded  to  a  sketch  rather  than  a  finisliod  piolure 
wlien  on  their  trial  before  those  who  interpret  a  work  in  thoir 
own  mind  rather  than  accept  it  rounded  ofï  and  complète? 

The  purest  and  serenest  music  that  Andréa  had  ever 
listened  to  rose  up  from  under  Gambara's  fingers  like  the 
vapor  of  incense  from  an  altar.  The  composers  voice  grcw 
young  again,  and,  far  from  marring  the  noble  nielody,  it 
elucidated  it,  supportcd  it,  guided  it, — just  as  the  feeble  and 
quavering  voice  of  an  accomplishcd  reader,  such  as  Andrieux, 
for  instance,  can  expand  the  meaning  of  some  great  scène  by 
Corneille  or  Racine  by  lending  personal  and  poetical  feeling. 

This  really  angclic  strain  showed  what  treasuros  lay  hiddon 
in  that  stupendous  opéra,  which,  howevcr,  would  never  find 
compréhension  so  long  as  the  musician  persisted  in  trying  to 
explain  it  in  his  présent  demented  state.  His  wife  and  the 
Count  were  equally  divided  between  the  music  and  their  sur- 
prise at  this  hundrcd-voiced  instrument,  inside  which  a 
stranger  might  hâve  fancied  an  invisible  chorus  of  girls  were 
hidden,  so  closely  did  some  of  the  tones  resemble  the  human 
voice;  and  they  dared  not  express  their  ideas  by  a  look  or  a 
word.  Marianna's  face  was  lightcd  up  by  a  radiant  beam 
of  hope  which  revived  the  glories  of  her  youth.  This 
renascence  of  beauty,  co-existent  with  the  luminous  glow  of 
her  husband's  genius,  east  a  shade  of  regret  on  the  Count's 
exquisite  pleasure  in  this  mysterious  hour. 


GAMBARA  3G9 

"You  are  our  good  genius!"  whispercd  ^rarianna.  "I 
am  tempted  to  belicve  that  you  actually  inspire  hini;  for  I, 
who  never  am  away  from  him,  hâve  never  lieard  anything 
like  this." 

"And  Kadijah's  farowell  !"  cried  Gambara,  who  sang  the 
cavatina  which  he  had  described  the  day  before  as  sublime, 
and  which  now  brought  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  lovers,  so  per- 
fectly  did  it  express  the  lof tiest  dévotion  of  love. 

"Who  can  hâve  taught  you  such  strains  ?"  cried  the  Count. 

"The  Spirit,"  said  Gambara.  "When  he  appears,  ail  is 
fire.  I  see  the  mélodies  there  before  me;  lovely,  fresh  in 
vivid  hues  like  flowers.  They  beam  on  me,  they  ring  out, — 
and  I  listen.  But  it  takes  a  long,  long  time  to  reproduce 
them." 

"Some  more  !"  said  Marianna. 

Gambara,  who  could  not  tire,  played  on  without  effort  or 
antics.  He  performed  bis  overture  with  such  skill,  bringing 
out  such  rich  and  original  musical  effects,  that  the  Count 
was  quite  dazzled,  and  at  last  believed  in  some  magie  like 
that  commanded  by  Paganini  and  Liszt, — a  style  of  exécution 
which  changes  every  aspect  of  music  as  an  art,  by  giving  it 
a  poetic  quality  far  above  musical  inventions. 

"Well,  Excellenza,  and  can  you  cure  him  ?"  asked  Giardini, 
as  Andréa  came  out. 

"I  shall  soon  find  out,"  replied  the  Count.  "This  man'g 
intellect  bas  two  Windows;  one  is  closed  to  the  world,  the 
other  is  open  to  the  heavens.  The  first  is  music,  the  second 
is  poetry.  Till  now  he  bas  insisted  on  sitting  in  front  of 
the  shuttered  window;  he  must  be  got  to  the  other.  It  was 
you,  Giardini,  who  first  started  me  in  the  right  track,  by  tell- 
ing  me  that  your  client's  mind  was  clearer  after  drinking  a 
few  glasses  of  wine." 

"Yes,"  cried  the  cook,  "and  I  can  see  what  your  plan  is." 

"If  it  is  not  too  late  to  make  the  thunder  of  poetry  audi- 
ble to  his  ears,  in  the  midst  of  the  harmonies  of  some  noble 
music,  we  must  put  him  into  a  condition  to  receive  it  and  ap- 


R70  G  AMR  ARA 

prooiafp  it.  Will  vou  liolp  mo  fo  inioxionio  Cînnibarn,  my 
pood  follow?    Will  you  ho  nono  Uio  worso  for  it?" 

"Wlmt  do  you  Tiu-nn,  l'iXcelloii/.a  ?" 

Aiidroa  wont  olT  without  answorinrr  liini,  laughin^  at  the 
acumon  still  Icft  to  this  crackod  wit. 

On  the  followiiiîx  day  lie  ealled  for  Marianna,  who  had 
spent  the  niornin<T  in  arranijincj  her  dress, — a  simple  bnt 
deeent  outfit,  on  which  phe  had  spent  ail  her  liitle  savinf^s. 
The  transformation  wonld  liave  dostroyed  the  illusions  of  a 
raere  danglcr;  but  Andrea's  eaprice  had  become  a  passion. 
Marianna,  divcrted  of  her  picturesquo  poverty,  and  looking 
like  any  ordinary  woman  of  modest  rank,  inspired  drcams  of 
wedded  life. 

He  handed  her  into  a  liackney  eoach,  and  told  her  of  the 
plans  he  had  in  bis  head;  and  sho  approved  of  everything, 
happy  in  fmding  her  admirer  more  lofty,  more  gênerons, 
more  disinterested  than  she  had  dared  to  hope.  He  took  her 
to  a  little  apartment,  whcre  he  had  allowed  himself  to  remind 
her  of  bis  good  offîees  by  some  of  the  élégant  trilles  which 
hâve  a  cbarm  for  the  most  virtnous  women. 

"I  will  never  speak  to  you  of  love  till  you  give  up  ail  hope 
of  your  Paolo,"  said  the  Count  to  Marianna,  as  he  bid  her 
good-bye  at  the  Rue  Froid-Manteau.  "You  will  be  witness 
to  the  sincerity  of  my  attempts.  If  they  succecd,  I  may 
find  myself  unequal  to  keeping  up  my  part  as  a  f riend  ;  but  in 
that  case  I  shall  go  far  away,  Marianna.  Thougb  I  bave 
firmness  enough  to  work  for  your  happiness,  I  shall  not  hâve 
80  much  as  will  enable  me  to  look  on  at  it." 

"Do  not  say  such  things.  Generosity,  too,  bas  its  dan- 
gers," said  she,  swallowing  down  her  tears.  "But  are  you 
going  now?" 

"Yes,"  said  Andréa;  'T)e  happy,  without  any  drawbacks." 

If  Giardini  might  be  believed,  the  new  treatment  was 
bénéficiai  to  both  husband  and  wife.  Every  evening  after 
bis  wine,  Gambara  seemed  less  self-centered,  talked  more, 
and  with  great  lucidity  ;  he  even  spoke  at  last  of  reading  the 


GAMBARA  871 

papers.  Andréa  coiild  not  holp  qiiaking  at  his  unexpectedly 
rapid  success  ;  but  though  his  distress  madc  him  aware  of  the 
strength  of  his  passion,  it  did  not  make  him  waver  in  his 
virtuous  résolve. 

One  day  he  called  to  note  the  progress  of  this  singular 
cure.  Though  tlie  state  of  the  patient  at  first  gave  him  sat- 
isfaction, his  joy  was  dashed  by  Marianna's  beauty,  for  an 
easy  life  had  restored  its  brilliancy.  He  called  now  every 
evening  to  enjoy  calm  and  serions  conversation,  to  which  he 
contributed  lucid  and  well  considered  arguments  controvert- 
ing  Gambara's  singular  théories.  He  took  advantage  of  the 
remarkable  acumen  of  the  composer's  mind  as  to  every  point 
not  too  directly  bearing  on  his  manias,  to  obtain  his  assent 
to  principles  in  varions  branches  of  art,  and  apply  them  sub- 
sequently  to  music.  Ail  was  well  so  long  as  the  patient's 
brain  was  heated  with  the  fumes  of  wine;  but  as  soon  as  he 
had  recovered — or,  rather,  lost — his  reason,  he  was  a  mono- 
maniac  once  more. 

However,  Paolo  was  already  more  easily  diverted  by  the 
impression  of  outside  things;  his  mind  was  more  capable  of 
addressing  itself  to  several  points  at  a  time. 

Andréa,  who  took  an  artistic  interest  in  his  semi-medical 
treatment,  thought  at  last  that  the  time  had  corne  for  a  great 
experiment.  He  would  give  a  dinner  at  his  own  house,  to 
which  he  woiild  invite  Giardini  for  the  sake  of  keeping  the 
tragedy  and  the  parody  side  by  side,  and  afterwards  take  the 
party  to  the  first  performance  of  Robert  le  Diable.  He  had 
seen  it  in  rehearsal,  and  he  judged  it  well  fitted  to  open  his 
patient's  eyes. 

By  the  end  of  the  second  course,  Gambara  was  already 
tipsy,  laughing  at  himself  with  a  very  good  grâce;  while 
Giardini  confessed  that  his  own  culinary  innovations  were 
not  worth  a  rush.  Andréa  had  neglected  nothing  that  could 
contribute  to  this  twofold  miracle.  The  wines  of  Orvieto 
and  of  Montefiascone,  conveyed  with  the  peculiar  care  needed 
in  moving  them,  Lachrymachristi  and  Giro, — ail  the  heady 
liqueurs  of  la  cara  Patria, — went  to  their  brains  with  the 


372  GAMRARA 

intoxicatioTi  nlikc  of  tlic  ^riipc  ninl  of  fond  inomory.  At 
dessert  tho  imisician  nnd  tlio  cook  hoth  abjurod  cvery  licresy; 
0110  was  luinniiing  a  cavatina  by  Hossini,  and  thc  ollior  piling 
di'licai'ii.'s  on  liis  plato  and  washiiifj;  ibcin  down  witli 
Maraschino  froni  Zara,  to  tho  j)rosi)orily  of  tho  l''ronoh  cuisine. 

The  Count  took  advanta^'o  of  tliis  happy  framc  of  miiid, 
ami  (^anibara  allowed  hinisclf  to  be  taken  to  the  opéra  like 
a  hiinb. 

At  tlic  first  introductory  notes  Cainl)ara's  intoxication 
appcarod  to  cloar  away  and  mako  way  for  tho  fcivorisli  oxcite- 
iiiont  which  soniotinios  brouglit  liis  judgnient  and  bis  imagina- 
tion into  perfoct  hannony;  for  it  was  thcir  liabitual  disagree- 
mont,  no  doubt,  that  caused  his  madness.  The  ruling  idea 
of  that  great  musical  drama  appoared  to  him,  no  doubt,  in 
its  nol)le  simplicity,  like  a  liglitning  flasli,  illuniinating  the 
iitter  darkness  in  which  lie  lived.  To  liis  unscaled  eyes  this 
music  revealed  the  immense  horizons  of  a  world  in  which 
he  found  himself  for  the  first  time,  though  recognizing  it 
as  that  he  had  sccn  in  his  dreams.  Ile  fancicd  himself  trans- 
portcd  into  the  scenory  of  his  native  land,  whore  that  beautiful 
Italian  landscape  bcgins  at  what  Xapolcon  so  cleverly  de- 
scribed  as  the  glacis  of  the  Alps.  Carried  back  by  memory 
to  the  time  when  his  young  and  eager  brain  was  as  yet  un- 
troublcd  by  the  ecstasy  of  his  too  exubérant  imagination, 
he  listened  with  religious  awe  and  would  not  utter  a  single 
Word.  The  Count  rcspected  thc  internai  travail  of  his  soûl, 
Till  half-past  twelve  Gambara  sat  so  perfectly  motionless 
that  the  frequenters  of  the  opéra  house  took  him,  no  doubt, 
for  what  he  was — a  man  drunk. 

On  their  return,  Andrca  began  to  attack  Meyerbeer's  work, 
in  order  to  wako  up  Gambara,  who  sat  sunk  in  the  half-torpid 
state  common  in  drunkards. 

"What  is  there  in  that  incohérent  score  to  reduce  yen  to 
a  condition  of  somnambulism?"  asked  Andréa,  when  they 
got  out  at  his  house.  "The  story  of  Robert  le  Diable,  to  be 
sure,  is  not  devoid  of  interest,  and  Holtei  bas  workeà  it  out 
with  great  skill  in  a  drama  that  is  very  well  written  and  fuU 


GAMBARA  373 

of  strong  and  pathetic  situations  ;  but  the  Frcncli  librettist 
lias  contrived  to  extraet  froni  it  the  niost  ridiculous  farrago 
of  nonsense.  The  absurdities  of  the  libretti  of  Vesari  and  \ 
Schikandcr  are  not  to  compare  with  those  of  the  words  of 
Kobert  le  Diable;  it  is  a  dramatic  nightmare,  which  oppresses 
the  hearer  without  deeply  nioving  him. 

"And  Me3-erbeer  has  given  the  devil  a  too  prominent  part. 
Bertram  and  Alice  represent  the  contest  between  right  and 
Avrong,  the  spirits  of  good  and  evil.  This  antagonism  of- 
fered  a  splendid  opportunit}'  to  the  composer.  The  sweetest 
mélodies,  in  juxtaposition  with  harsh  and  crude  strains,  was 
the  natural  outcome  of  the  form  of  the  story;  but  in  the 
German  composer's  score  the  démons  sing  better  than  the 
saints.  The  heavenly  airs  belle  their  origin,  and  when  the 
composer  abandons  the  infernal  motives  lie  returns  to  tliem 
as  sooii  as  possible,  fatigued  with  the  effort  of  keeping  aloof 
froni  them.  Melody,  the  golden  thread  that  ought  never  to 
be  lost  throughout  so  vast  a  plan,  often  vanishes  from  Meyer- 
beer's  work.  Feeling  counts  for  nothing,  the  heart  has  no 
part  in  it.  Hence  we  never  come  upon  those  happy  inven- 
tions, those  artless  scènes,  which  captivate  ail  our  sympathies 
and  leave  a  blissful  impression  on  the  soûl. 

"Harmonj  reigns  suprême,  instead  of  being  the  foundation 
from  whicli  the  mélodie  groups  of  the  musical  picture  stand 
forth.  Thèse  discordant  combinations,  far  from  moviiig 
the  listener,  arouse  in  him  a  feeling  analogous  to  that  which 
he  would  expérience  on  seeing  a  rope-dancer  hanging  to  a 
thread  and  swaying  between  life  and  deatli.  N"ever  does  a 
poothing  strain  come  in  to  mitigate  the  fatiguing  suspense. 
It  really  is  as  though  the  composer  liad  had  no  other  object 
in  view  than  to  produce  a  baroque  effoct  without  troubling 
himself  about  musical  truth  or  unity,  or  about  the  capabilities 
of  human  voices  which  are  swamped  by  this  flood  of  instru- 
mental noise." 

"Silence,  niy  friend  !"  cried  Gambara.     "I  am  still  under 

the  spell  %f  that  glorious  chorus  of  hell,  niade  still  more  ter-^y 

rible  by  tlie  long  trumpets, — a  new  method  of  instrumenta- 
24 


374  OAMRAKA 

tion.  TIk'  brokon  aulcii:<is  wliicli  ^mvc  siii-li  fovco  io  HoIxmI's 
sccno,  tlio  raradiia  in  llic  fourlh  ad,  (ho  /iiidlc  ol'  (lie  (irst, 
ail  holcl  mv  in  (ho  i^n-ip  df  a  suporniUural  powor.  N^o,  iiot 
ovoii  (iliuk's  (loolaniat ion  ovor  i)r(Mlii('od  so  prodigioiis  an 
efToct,  ami  I  ani  aniazod  l)y  suoh  skill  and  ]oaniin<î." 

"Signor  ^Iaos(ro,"  said  Andréa,  sniiling,  "allow  nie  to  con- 
tradiet  you.  Ciluck,  heforo  ho  Avroio,  ronoc(o(l  loii;,^;  lie  cal- 
ciiUUod  the  chances,  and  ho  deeidod  nu  a  j)hm  which  niii^ht 
be  subsequcntly  niodificd  by  his  insjii rations  ns  to  ddail,  but 

'"  hindered  liiin  froni  cver  losing  liis  way.  llcnco  his  powcr 
of  cmpbasis,  his  dcclaniatory  style  thrilliiig  witli  lil'c;  and 
truth.  I  quite  agrée  with  you  (liât  ]yreycrbocr',s  learning  is 
transcendent;  but  science  is  a  defect  wlicn  it  evicts  inspira- 
tion, and  it  seems  to  me  that  we  hâve  in  this  opéra  the  pain- 
ful  (oil  of  a  refmed  craftsman  wlio  in  his  miisic  has  but 
picked  iip  thousands  of  phrases  ont  of  other  opéras,  damned 
or  forgottcn,  and  appropriated  theni,  whilc  extending,  modify- 
ing,  or  condensing  (hem.  But  he  has  fallen  into  the  error 
of  ail  selectors  of  cetitos, — an  abuse  of  good  things.  This 
^  élever  harvester  of  notes  is  lavish  of  discords,  which,  when 
too  often  introduced,  fatigue  the  car  till  those  great  efïects 
pall  upon  it  which  a  composer  should  husband  with  care 
to  make  the  more  effective  use  of  thom  when  the  situation 
requires  it.  Thèse  enharmonie  passages  rccur  to  satiety,  and 
the  abuse  of  the  plagal  cadence  deprives  it  of  its  religions 
solemnitv. 

"I  know,  of  course,  that  every  musician  has  certain  forms 
to  which  he  drifts  back  in  spite  of  himself  ;  he  should  watch 
himself  so  as  to  avoid  that  blunder.  A  picture  in  which 
there  were  no  colors  but  blue  and  red  would  be  untrue  to 
nature,  and  fatigue  the  eye.     And  thus  the  constantly  re- 

^curring  rhythm  in  the  score  of  Robert  le  Diable  makcs  the 
work,  as  a  whole,  appear  monotonous.  As  to  the  effect  of  the 
long  trumpets,  of  which  you  speak,  it  has  long  been  known 
in  Germany;  and  what  Meyerbeer  offers  us  as  a  novelty  was 
constantly  used  by  Mozart,  who  gives  just  such  a  chorus  +o 
the  devils  in  Don  Giovanni." 


GAMBARA  375 

Bj'-  plying  Gambara,  ineaiiwhilo,  witli  frcsh  libations, 
Andréa  thus  strove,  by  his  contradictoriness,  to  bring  the  mu- 
sician  back  to  a  true  sensé  of  music,  by  proving  to  him  that 
his  so-called  mission  was  not  to  tn'  to  regcnerate  an  art  be- 
yond  his  powers,  but  to  seek  to  express  himself  in  another 
f orm  ;  namely,  that  of  poetry. 

"But,  my  dear  Count,  you  hâve  understood  nothing  of 
that  stupendous  musical  drama/'  said  Gambara,  airily,  as 
standing  in  front  of  Andrca's  piano  he  struck  the  koys, 
listened  to  the  toue,  and  thcn  seated  himself,  meditating  for 
a  few  minutes  as  if  to  collect  his  ideas. 

"To  begin  with,  you  must  know,"  said  he,  "that  an  ear 
as  practised  as  mine  at  once  detected  that  labor  of  choice 
and  setting  of  which  you  spoke.  Yes,  the  music  has  bcen 
selected,  lovingly,  from  the  storehouse  of  a  rich  and  fertile 
imagination  wherein  learning  has  squcezed  every  idea  to 
extract  the  very  essence  of  music.  I  will  illustrate  the  pro- 
cess." 

He  rose  to  carry  the  candies  into  the  adjoining  room, 
and  before  sitting  down  again  hc  drank  a  full  glass  of  Giro, 
a  Sardinian  wine,  as  full  of  fire  as  the  old  wines  of  Tokay 
can  inspire. 

"Now,  you  see,"  said  Gambara,  "this  music  is  not  written 
for  misbelievers,  nor  for  those  who  know  not  love.  If  you 
hâve  never  suffered  from  the  virulent  attacks  of  an  evil 
spirit  who  shifts  your  object  just  as  you  are  taking  aim, 
who  puts  a  fatal  end  to  your  highest  hopes, — in  one  word, 
if  you  hâve  never  felt  the  devil's  tail  whisking  over  the  world, 
the  opéra  of  Robert  le  Diable  must  be  to  you,  what  the 
Apocalypse  is  to  those  who  believe  that  ail  things  will  end 
with  them.  But  if,  persecutcd  and  wretched,  you  understand 
that  Spirit  of  Evil, — the  monstrous  ape  who  is  perpetually 
employed  in  destroying  the  work  of  God, — if  you  can  con- 
ceive  of  him  as  having,  not  indeed  loved,  but  ravished,  an  al- 
most  divine  woman,  and  achieved  through  her  the  joy  of 
paternity;  as  so  loving  his  son  that  he  would  rather  hâve  him 
eternallv  misérable  with  himself  than  think  of  him  as  eter- 


:'>7n  CAMI'.AKA 

luilly  lin])])V  widi  (iod  ;  if,  liicillv ,  yoii  cnii  iiim^Miic  llic  mollicr's 
soûl  l"oi-  cvri-  liiivcrinp,'  ovim"  llic  cliihrs  licad  li)  siialcli  i(  froiii 
i\\v  atrocious  loniplations  oll'orod  l)y  its  falhcr, — cven  (Ihii 
yoii  will  havo  but.  a  faiiil  idca  oi'  tliis  stupciidoiis  draina, 
which  jurds  but  littlc  to  uiakc  it  worthy  of  comparison  witli 
Mo/.arl's  Don  Giovanni.  Don  (Jiovanni  is  in  ils  j)errecLi()ii 
thc  groatcr,  1  grant;  Jiobert  le  Diable  expresses  ideas,  Don 
Giovanni  arouses  sensations.  Don  Giovanni  is  as  yct  thc 
gnly  musical  work  in  wliich  liaiiiioiiy  and  nielody  are  coni- 
'1)incd  in  exactly  tlio  riglit  projxjrlions.  Jn  this  li(>s  its  only 
supcriority,  for  Uolcrt  is  thc  richer  work.  l'nl  how  vain 
are  such  comparisons  since  each  is  so  beautifiil  in  its  own 
way  ! 

"To  me,  suffering  as  I  do  from  the  demon's  repeated 
shocks,  Kobert  spoke  with  grcatcr  powcr  than  to  yon  ;  it  struok 
me  as  being  at  the  sanie  time  vast  and  concentraled. 

"Thanks  to  yon,  I  hâve  been  transported  to  the  glorious 
land  of  dreams  where  our  sensés  expand,  and  the  world  works 
on  a  scale  which  is  gigantic  as  compared  with  man." 

He  was  si  lent  for  a  space. 

"I  am  trembling  still,''  said  tlie  ill-starred  artist,  "from  the 
four  bars  of  cymbals  which  pierced  to  my  marrow  as  they 
open  that  short,  abrupt  introduction  with  its  solo  for  trom- 
bone, its  flûtes,  oboes,  and  clarionet,  ail  suggesting  the  most 
fantastic  effects  of  color.  The  andante  in  C  minor  is  a 
forotaste  of  the  subject  of  thc  évocation  of  the  ghosts  in  the 
abbey,  and  gives  grandeur  to  the  scène  by  anticipating  the 
spiritual  struggle.     I  shivered.'' 

Gambara  pressed  the  keys  wiHi  a  firiii  hand  and  expanded 

^  Meyerlieer's  thème  in  a  masterly  fantasia,  a  sort  of  outpour- 

ing  of  his  soûl  aftcr  the  manner  of  Liszt.     It  was  no  longer 

the  piano,  it  was  a  whole  orchestra  that  they  heard  ;  the  very 

genius  of  music  rose  bcfore  theni. 

"That  is  worthy  of  Mozart  !"  he  exclaimed.  "Sec  how 
that  German  can  handle  his  chords,  and  through  what  mas- 
terly modulations  he  raises  the  image  of  terror  to  come  to 
the  dominant  C.     I  can  hear  ail  hell  in  it  ! 


GAMBARA  377 

"The  curtain  rises.  ^Miat  do  1  sce?  The  only  seenc  to 
Mhich  we  gave  the  epithet  iiileriial:  an  orgy  of  knights  in 
Sicily.  In  that  chorus  in  F  every  human  passion  is  unchained 
in  a  baechanalian  allegro.  Every  thread  by  which  the  devil 
holds  us  is  pulled.  Yes,  that  is  the  sort  of  glee  that  cornes 
over  men  when  they  dance  on  the  edge  of  a  précipice;  they 
make  themselvcs  giddy.     What  go  there  is  in  that  chorus  ! 

"Against  that  chorus — the  reality  of  life — the  simple  life 
of  every-day  virtue  stands  out  in  the  air,  in  G  minor,  sung  by 
Eaimbaut.  For  a  moment  it  refreshed  my  spirit  to  hear 
the  simple  fellow,  représentative  of  verdurous  and  fruitful 
Xormandy,  which  he  brings  to  Eobert's  mind  in  the  midst 
of  his  drunkenness.  The  sweet  influence  of  his  beloved  na- 
tive land  lends  a  touch  of  tender  color  to  this  gloomy  open- 

ing. 

"Then  cornes  the  wonderful  air  in  C  major,  supported 
by  the  chorus  in  C  minor,  so  expressive  of  the  subject.  'Je 
suis  Rohert!'  he  immediately  breaks  out.  The  wrath  of  the 
prince,  insulted  by  his  vassal,  is  already  more  than  natural 
anger;  but  it  will  die  away,  for  meraories  of  his  childhood 
come  to  him,  with  Alice,  in  the  bright  and  graceful  allegro 
in  A  major. 

"Can  you  not  hear  the  cries  of  the  innocent  dragged 
into  this  infernal  drama, — a  persecuted  créature?  'Non, 
non,'  "  sang  Gambara,  who  made  the  consumptive  piano  sing. 
"His  native  land  and  tender  émotions  hâve  come  back  to  him  ; 
his  childhood  and  its  luemories  hâve  blossomed  anew  in 
Eobert's  heart.  And  now  his  mother's  shade  rises  up,  bring- 
ing  with  it  soothing  religious  thoughts.  It  is  religion  that 
lives  in  that  beautiful  song  in  E  major,  with  its  wonderful 
harmonie  and  mélodie  progression  in  the  words  : 

'  '  Car  dans  les  cieux,  comme  sur  la  terre, 
Sa  mère  va  prier  pour  lui. 

"Hère  the  struggle  begins  between  the  unseen  powers  and 
the  only  human  being  who  bas  the  fire  of  hell  in  his  veins 
to  enable  him  to  resist  them;  and  to  make  this  quite  clear, 


h 


378  (iA.Mi;Ai:A 

as  Bcrhain  coinos  on,  thi'  j:;n'iit  musitiim  lias  fj;ivoM  ilic  nr- 
chostra  a  jiassai,'».'  intnHluciii<,f  a  l'ciiiiiiisccncc  nï  lJaiinl)aiil's 
ballatl.  W'iiat  a  slroUo  of  aii  !  Wlial  cohcsiun  uf  ail  ilio 
parts!     AVhat  solidity  of  .stnuturc! 

"Tho  dovil  is  Iheir,  in  luclin<,^  luit  rcstless.  'V\\r  conflicl. 
of  (lie  anta^onistic  i)o\v(.'rs  ojkmis  wilh  Alict-'s  diror;  siio 
iwo^nizos  llu'  (lovil  of  llio  imairt'  of  Saint  ^Midiacl  in  hor 
village.  Tho  musical  subjcct  is  workcd  ont  tlii'ough  an  eiul- 
less  variety  of  phases.  The  antithcsis  indispensable  in  opéra 
is  emphatieally  presented  in  a  noble  rcciiative,  sncli  as  a  Gluck 
might  bave  composcd,  between  Bertram  and  Kulx'i-t  : 

"  Tu  ne  sam-as  jamais  î\  (iiu-l  cxcos  je  t'aiine. 

"In  that  diabolical  ('  niinor,  Bertram,  uith  liis  (errible  bass, 
begins  his  work  of  undermining  whicb  will  overtlirow  every 
effort  of  the  véhément,  passionate  man. 

"Hère,  everything  is  a])palling.  Will  the  crime  get  pos- 
session of  the  oriminal  ?  Will  the  e.xecutioner  sei/x'  his  victim  ? 
Will  sorrow  consume  the  artist's  genius?  Will  the  diseasc 
kill  the  patient?  or,  Avill  the  guardian  angel  save  the  Chris- 
tian? 

"Then  comes  the  finale,  the  gambling  scène  in  which 
Bertram  tortures  his  son  by  rousing  him  to  tremendous 
émotions.  Robert,  beggared,  frenzied,  searching  every- 
thing, eager  for  blood,  lire,  and  sword,  is  his  own  son;  in 
this  mood  he  is  exactly  like  his  father.  What  hideous  glee 
we  hear  in  Bertram's  words:  'Je  ris  de  tes  coups!'  And  how 
perfectly  the  Venetian  harcaroïe  comos  in  herc.  Tlirougli 
■\vhat  wondrous  transitions  the  diabolical  parent  is  brought  on 
to  the  stage  once  more  to  make  Robert  throw  the  dice. 

"This  first  act  is  overwhelming  to  any  one  capable  of  work- 
ing  ont  the  subjects  in  his  very  heart,  and  lending  them  the 
breadth  of  development  which  the  composer  intended  them  to 
call  forth. 

"Xothing  but  love  could  now  be  contrasted  with  this  noble 
symphony  of  song,  in  which  you  will  detect  no  monotony, 


GAMBARA  379 

no  répétition  of  means  and  cffccts.  It  is  one,  but  many; 
the  characteristic  of  ail  that  is  truly  grcat  and  natural. 

"I  breathe  more  froely;  I  find  myself  in  the  élégant  circle 
of  a  gallant  court  ;  I  hear  Isabella's  charming  phrases,  f  resh, 
but  almost  melancholy,  and  the  feniale  chorus  in  two  divi- 
sions, and  in  imitation,  vnih.  a  suggestion  of  the  Moorish  color- 
ing  of  Spain.  Hère  the  terrifying  music  is  softened  to  gen- 
tler  hues,  like  a  storm  dying  away,  and  ends  in  the  florid 
prettiness  of  a  duet  wholly  unlike  anything  that  has  come 
before  it.  After  the  turmoil  of  a  camp  full  of  errant  heroes, 
we  hâve  a  picture  of  love.  Poet  !  I  thank  thee  !  My  heart 
could  not  hâve  borne  mueh  more.  If  I  could  not  hère  and 
there  pluek  the  daisies  of  a  French  light  opéra,  if  I  could 
not  hear  the  gentle  wit  of  a  woman  ablé  to  love  and  to  charm, 
I  could  not  endure  the  terrible  deep  note  on  wliich  Bertram 
comes  in,  saying  to  his  son:  'Si  je  le  permets!'  when  Eobert 
has  promised  the  prineess  he  adores  that  he  will  conquer  with 
the  arms  she  has  bestowed  on  him. 

"The  hopes  of  the  gambler  cured  by  love,  the  love  of  a 
most  beautiful  woman, — did  you  observe  that  magnificent 
Sicilian,  with  her  hawk's  eye  secure  of  her  prey?  (What 
interpreters  that  composer  has  found!)  the  hopes  of  the  man 
are  mocked  at  by  the  hopes  of  hell  in  the  tremendous  cry: 
'A  toi,  Robert  de  Normandie!' 

"And  are  not  you  struck  by  the  gloom  and  horror  of  those 
iong-held  notes,  to  which  the  words  are  set  :  'Dans  la  forêt 
prochaine'?  We  find  hère  ail  the  sinister  spells  of  Jérusa- 
lem Delivered,  just  as  we  find  ail  chivalry  in  the  chorus  with 
the  Spanish  lilt,  and  in  the  march  tune.  IIow  original  is 
the  allegro  with  the  modulations  of  the  four  cymbals  (tuned 
to  C,  D,  C,  G,)  !  How  élégant  is  the  call  to  the  lists  !  The 
whole  movement  of  the  heroic  life  of  the  period  is  there; 
the  mind  enters  into  it;  I  read  in  it  a  romance,  a  poem  of 
chivalry.  The  exposition  is  now  finished;  the  resources  of 
music  would  seem  to  be  exhaustcd;  you  bave  never  heard 
an}'thing  like  it  before;  and  yot  it  is  homogeneous.  You 
hâve  had  life  set  before  you,  and  its  one  and  only  crux:  'Shall 


380  CA.Mi'.AKA 

1  lu'  liappv  or  uiilia])]iv ?'  is  tln'  [iliilosoplicrV  ([iicrv.  'Sliall 
I  bi'  savi'd  or  dainnecl?'  asks  (lie  Clirislinii." 

With  tlu'so  \V(M'ds  (lanibara  slruck  llic  lasl  oliord  of  tlio 
chorus,  ilwi'lt  ou  il  with  a  UK'hiuclioly  ino(hilation.  and  llicii 
rose  lo  driuk  auolher  hirgc  glass  of  (iiro.  'JMiis  liaH'-Ariicaii 
viuta^o  gave  liis  face  a  decpcr  lliish,  fur  his  passionalc  and 
wouderful  sketch  of  Mcyerboer's  opéra  had  niadc  him  hirn 
a  little  })ale. 

"ïhat  nothiug  uiay  be  Jackiug  to  this  i-oinjxjsitiou,"'  lie 
went  on,  ''Ihe  great  artist  lias  gencrously  addcd  Iho  oïdy 
huffo  duct  pormissiblc  for  a  dcvil:  lliat  in  wliich  lie  tcinpts 
the  unhappy  troubadcnir.  The  composer  lias  set  jocosity 
side  by  side  "witli  horror — a  jocosity  in  whidi  lu;  mocks  at 
the  only  roalisiu  he  had  allnwcd  hiuiself  aniid  llie  subliiuo 
iiuaginiugs  of  his  work — the  pure  cahn  love  ol"  Alice  and 
Eainibaut;  and  their  life  is  overshadowcd  by  the  forccast  of 
evil. 

"Nonc  but  a  lofty  soûl  can  fecl  the  noble  style  of  thèse 
huffo  airs;  thcy  hâve  neithcr  the  suporaljundant  frivolity  of 
Italian  music  nor  the  vulgar  accent  of  French  coninionplace  ; 
rather  hâve  thcy  the  majesty  of  Olympus.  There  is  the 
bitter  laughtcr  of  a  divine  being  mocking  the  surprise  of  a 
troubadour  Don-Juanizing  himself.  But  for  this  dignity 
we  should  be  too  suddculy  brought  down  to  the  général  tone 
of  the  opéra,  hcre  stamped  on  that  terrible  fury  of  diminishcd 
sevenths  which  résolves  itself  into  an  infernal  waltz,  and 
finallv  brings  us  face  to  face  with  the  démons. 

"How  emphatically  Bertram's  couplet  stands  ont  in  B 
minor  against  that  diabolical  chorus,  dcj^icting  his  paternity, 
but  mingling  in  fearful  despair  with  thèse  dcmoniacal  strains. 

"Then  cornes  the  delightful  transition  of  Alice's  reappear- 
ance,  with  the  ritornel  in  B  liât.  I  can  still  hear  that  air  of 
angelical  simplicity — the  nightingale  after  a  storm.  Thus 
the  grand  leading  idea  of  the  Avhole  is  worked  ont  in  the  dé- 
tails; for  what  could  be  more  perfcctly  in  eontrast  with  the 
tumult  of  devils  tossing  in  the  pit  than  that  wonderful  air 
given  to  Alice  ?     'Quand  j'ai  quitté  la  Normandie/ 


GAMBARA  381 

"The  golden  thread  of  nielody  llows  on,  ïridc  by  side  with 
the  mighty  liannouy,  like  a  lieavculy  hope;  it  is  embroidered 
on  it,  and  with  what  niarvelous  skill  !  Genius  never  lets 
go  of  the  science  that  guides  it.  ITere  Alice's  song  is  in  B 
flat  leading  into  F  sharp,  the  key  of  the  demon's  chorus.  Do 
you  hear  the  trémolo  in  the  orchestra?  The  host  of  dcvils 
clanior  for  Eobert. 

"Bertram  now  reappears,  and  this  is  the  culminating  point 
of  musical  interest;  after  a  recitative,  worthy  of  comparison 
with  the  finest  work  of  the  great  masters,  cornes  the  tierce 
confiict  in  E  flat  between  two  tremendous  forces — one  on  the 
words  'Oui,  tu  me  connais!'  on  a  diminished  seventh  ;  the 
other,  on  that  sublime  F,  'Le  ciel  est  avec  moi.'  Hell  and 
the  Crucifix  hâve  met  for  battle.  Xext  we  hâve  Bertram 
threatening  Alice,  the  most  violent  pathos  ever  heard — the 
Spirit  of  Evil  expatiating  complacently,  and,  as  usual,  ap- 
pealing  to  personal  interest.  Eobert's  arrivai  gives  us  the 
magnificent  unaccompanied  trio  in  A  flat,  the  first  skirmish 
between  the  two  rival  forces  and  the  man.  And  note  how 
clearly  that  is  expressed,"  said  Garabara,  epitomizing  the 
scène  with  such  passion  of  expression  as  startled  Andréa. 

"Ail  this  avalanche  of  music,  from  the  clash  of  cymbals 
in  common  time,  has  been  gathering  up  to  this  contest  of  three 
voices.  The  magie  of  evil  triumphs  !  Alice  Aies,  and  you 
hâve  the  duet  in  D  between  Bertram  and  Eobert.  The  devil 
sets  his  talons  in  the  man's  heart;  he  tears  it  to  make  it  his 
own  ;  he  works  on  ever}'  feeling.  Honor,  hope,  eternal  and 
infinité  pleasures — he  displays  them  ail.  He  places  him, 
as  hc  did  Jésus,  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  and  siiuws 
him  ail  the  treasures  of  the  earth,  the  storehouse  of  sin.  He 
nettles  him  to  flaunt  his  courage;  and  the  man's  nobler  mind 
is  expressed  in  his  exclamation: 

*  '  Des  (-hevaliers  de  ma  patrie 
L'honneur  toujours  fut  le  soutien  ! 

"And  finally,  to  crown  the  work,  the  thème  comes  in  which 


K 


382  (.;aml;aka 

souikIihI  tlio  iiolo  of  fatiilily  at    (lu(  I)e^inniii^.     'IMiiis,   (lie 
loailinj^  strain.  tlic  inaixnilicciil  call  io  Ihc  dcad: 

"Nonnes  (lui  rcposo/,  sous  (•«■tto  l'niidc  iiii-rn», 
]\I'cn<i>ii(loz-vou.s  ? 

"'J'iio  carecr  of  tlio  music,  gloriously  workcnl  ont,  is 
gloriousiy  Jiiiishod  hy  [\\v  aUctjn)  viracc  of  llio  haccliaiuiliaii 
chorus  iii  D  uiinor.  Tliis,  iiidccd,  is  tlic  li-iumitli  of  licll  ! 
lîoll  on,  hannony,  and  w  l'ap  iis  in  a  tlioii.'^aml  folds!  Roll 
on,  bcwitch  us!  The  powcrs  of  darkness  hâve  cliid  lied  tlicji- 
prcy  ;  thcy  hold  liini  while  they  dance.  The  ^n;at  geiiius, 
boni  to  conqucr  and  to  rcign,  is  lost  !  Tlic  dcvils  rojoicc, 
misery  stiflcs  gciiius,  passion  will  wrcck  the  knight!" 

And  hère  Gambara  improviscd  a  fantasia  of  his  own  on 
the  bacchanalian  chorus,  with  ingcnious  variations,  and  liinii- 
ming  the  air  in  a  niclancholy  drone  as  if  to  express  the  secret 
suiïcrings  he  liad  known. 

"Do  you  hear  the  hcavenly  lamentations  of  ncglcctcd  love?'' 
he  said.  "Isabella  calls  to  Ivobert  above  the  grand  chorus 
of  knights  riding  forth  to  the  tournament,  in  which  the  motifs 
of  the  second  act  reappear  to  make  it  clcar  tliat  the  third 
act  lias  ail  taken  place  in  a  supernatural  sphère.  This  is 
real  life  again.  This  chorus  dies  away  at  the  approacli  of  the 
hellish  enchantrnent  brought  by  Eobert  with  the  talisman, 
The  deviltry  of  the  third  act  is  to  be  carried  on.  Hère  we 
hâve  the  duet  with  the  viol;  the  rhythm  is  highly  expressive 
of  the  brutal  desires  of  a  man  who  is  omnipotent,  and  the 
Princcss,  by  plaintive  phrases,  tries  to  win  hor  lover  back  to 
modération.  The  niusician  has  hère  placed  himself  in  a 
situation  of  great  dilTiculty,  and  has  surmounted  it  in  the 
loveliest  number  of  the  whole  opéra.  How  charming  is  the 
melody  of  the  cavatina  'Grâce  pour  toi!'  Ali  the  women 
présent  understood  it  wcll  ;  each  saw  herself  seized  and 
snatchcd  away  on  the  stage.  That  part  alone  would  sulfice  to 
make  the  fortune  of  the  opéra.  Every  woman  felt  herself  en- 
gaged  in  a  struggle  with  somc  violent  lover.  Never  was  mu- 
sic  so  passionate  and  so  dramatic. 


GAMBAUA  383 

"The  whole  world  uow  rises  in  arms  against  the  reprobatc. 
This  finale  may  be  criticised  for  its  resemblance  to  that  of    ^ 
Don  Giovanni;  but  there  is  this  immensê~clifrerence  :  in  Isa- 
bella  we  hâve  the  expression  of  tlie  noblest  faith,  a  true 
love  that  will  sayejiobert,  for  he  scornfully  rejects  the  in-    ^ 
fernal  powers  bestowed  on  him,  while  Don  Giovanni  pcrsists 
in  his  uubelief.     Moreover,  that  particular  fault  is  common 
to  every  composer  who  has  written  a  finale  since  Mozart. 
The  finale  to  Don  Giovanni  is  one  of  those  classic  forms  that  ]/" 
are  invented  once  for  ail. 

"At  last  religion  wins  the  day,  uplifting  the  voice  that 
governs  worlds,  that  invites  ail  sorrow  to  corne  for  consola- 
tion, ail  repentance  to  be  forgiven  and  helped. 

"The  whole  house  was  stirred  by  the  chorus: 

"Malheureux  ou  coupables, 
Hatez-vous  d'accourir! 

"In  the  terrifie  tumult  of  raving  passions,  the  holy  Yoice 
would  hâve  been  unheard;  but  at  this  critical  moment  it 
sounds  like  thunder;  the  divine  Catholic  Church  rises  glo- 
rious  in  light.  And  hère  I  was  amazed  to  find  that  aftcr 
such  lavish  use  of  harmonie  treasure,  the  composer  had  corne 
upon  a  new  vein  with  the  splendid  chorus:  'Gloire  à  la 
Providence'  in  the  manner  of  Hiindel. 

"Robert  rushes  on  with  his  heartrending  cry  :  'Si  je  pouvais 
prier!'  and  Bertram,  driven  by  the  infernal  decree,  pursues 
his  son,  and  makes  a  last  effort.  Alice  has  called  up  the 
vision  of  the  ]\Iother,  and  now  comes  the  grand  trio  to  which 
the  whole  opéra  has  led  up:  the  triumph  of  the  soûl  over  . 
matter,  of  the  Spirit  of  Good  over  the  Spirit  of  Evil.  The 
strains  of  piety  prevail  over  the  chorus  of  hcll,  and  happiness 
appears  glorious;  but  hère  the  music  is  wcaker.  I  only  saw 
a  cathedral  instead  of  hearing  a  concert  of  angels  in  bliss, 
and  a  divine  prayer  consecrating  the  union  of  Eobert  and  Isa- 
bella.  We  ought  not  to  hâve  been  left  oppresscd  by  the 
spells  of  hell  ;  we  ought  to  émerge  with  hope  in  our  heart. 

"I,  as  musician  and  a  Catholic,  wanted  another  prayer  like 


384  (iA.MT.AlCA 

tliat  il)  Mosr.  I  sliiuilil  liiivi'  likcd  (o  sco  how  (ÙMiuniiv  woiild 
i-tinliMid  willi  Itiily,  wIkiI  Mcvi'rhci'r  coiild  do  iii  ri\;drv  willi 
lùissini. 

"Jl()\V(>V('r.  in  spi(i>  of  tliis  irillin.u  hiciiiisli,  llic  wi-ilcr  caii- 
not  say  tiial  aflcr  dvt'  lionrs  of  sucli  solid  music,  a  l'ai-isiaii 
prefcrs  a  hil  (d'  riltlxm  to  a  imisical  maslcrpiooo.  You  hcard 
litnv  llu'  work  was  a])i)lniidiHl  ;  if  will  lth  llii-oiit:]!  fiv(>  Iniii- 
divd  i)orf(>nnaiices  !  li'  thc  Fri'iuh  i-cally  iiiidcrslaiid  lliat 
iimsiL' " 

"It  is  because  it  expresses  ideas,"  the  Count  put  in. 

"No;  il  is  hecause  it  sets  foi-lli  in  a  ddinite  sliapc;  a  picturo 
of  tlie  struiïglo  in  wliich  so  many  pcrish,  and  l)ec'ausc  cvcry 
individual  lifc  is  iniplicatod  in  it  throuo^h  mcMuory.  Ah! 
I,  haplcss  Nvretch,  sliould  hâve  been  too  hai)py  to  licar  thc 
Sound  of  those  heavenly  voiccs  I  bave  so  often  drcamcd  of." 

Hcreiipon  Gambara  fell  into  a  musical  day-dream,  im- 
provising  thc  most  lovely  niclodious  and  liarnionious  cava- 
tina  that  Andrca  would  cvcr  bcar  on  oarth  ;  a  diviiie  strain 
divinoly  performed  on  a  thème  as  exquisite  as  that  of  0  fdii 
et  filiœ,  but  graccd  witli  additions  such  as  none  but  thc  loftiest 
musical  genius  could  devise. 

The  Count  sat  lost  in  keen  admiration  ;  tlic  clouds  clcarcd 
away,  the  blue  sky  opened,  figures  of  angels  appearod  lifting 
the  veil  that  hid  the  sanctuary,  and  the  light  of  heaven 
poured  down. 

There  was  a  sudden  silence. 

The  Count,  surprised  at  the  cessation  of  the  rausic,  lookcd 
at  Gambara,  who,  with  fixed  gaze,  in  the  attitude  of  a  vision- 
ary,  murmured  the  word:  "God!" 

Andrca  waitcd  till  the  composer  had  dcscended  from  the 
enchanted  realm  to  which  he  had  soared  on  the  many-hued 
wings  of  inspiration,  intending  to  show  him  the  truth  by 
the  liglit  he  liimself  would  bring  down  with  him. 

"Well,"  said  he,  pouring  him  out  anothcr  bumper  of  wine 
and  clinking  glasses  with  him,  "this  (icrman  bas,  you  sec, 
written  a  sublime  opéra  without  troubling  himsclf  with 
théories,  whilo  those  musicians  who  write  grammars  of 
harmony  may,  like  litcrary  critics,  be  atrocious  coraposers." 


GAMRAIIA  385 

"Then  yoii  do  not  like  iiiy  inusic  ?" 

"I  do  not  say  so.  lîut  if,  instead  of  carrying  musical 
principles  to  an  extrême — wliich  takes  you  too  far— you 
would  simply  try  to  arouse  our  feelings,  you  would  be  better 
understood,  unless  indccd  you  hâve  mistakcn  your  vocation. 
You  are  a  great  poet." 

"What,"  cried  Gambara,  "are  twenty-five  years  of  study 
ail  in  vain?  Am  I  to  learn  the  impcrl'eet  language  of  meu 
when  I  hâve  the  key  to  the  heavenly  tongue?  Oh,  if  you 
are  right, — I  should  die." 

"Xo,  no.  You  are  great  and  strong;  you  would  begin  life 
again,  and  I  would  support  you.  We  would  show  the  world 
the  noble  and  rare  alliance  of  a  rich  man  and  an  artist  in 
perfect  sympathy  and  understanding." 

"Do  you  niean  it?"  asked  Gambara,  struck  with  amaze- 
ment. 

"As  I  bave  told  you,  you  are  a  poet  more  than  a  musician." 

"A  poet,  a  poet  !  It  is  better  than  nothing.  But  tell 
me  truly,  which  do  you  esteem  most  highly,  Mozart  or 
Homer  ?" 

"I  admire  them  equally." 

"On  your  honor?" 

"On  mv  honor." 

"H'm  !  Once  more.  What  do  you  think  of  Meyerbeer 
and  Byron?" 

"You  bave  measured  them  by  naming  them  together." 

The  Count's  earriage  was  in  waiting.  The  composer  and 
bis  noble  physician  ran  down-stairs,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
they  were  with  Marianna. 

As  they  went  in,  Gambara  threw  himself  into  his  wife's 
arms,  but  she  drew  back  a  step  and  turned  away  her  head; 
the  husband  also  drew  back  and  beamed  on  the  Count. 

"Oh,  monsieur!"  said  Gambara  in  a  husky  voice,  "you 
might  bave  left  me  my  illusions."  He  hung  his  head,  and 
thon  fell. 

"What  bave  you  donc  to  him  ?     He  is  dead  drunk  !"  cried 


380  (^\^^^.\^^^ 

!Mnrinnnn.  lookin»?  dowii  ;il  lier  Imsliniul  witli  ;i  iniii^flcd  c.\- 
prossion  i)f  pity  ;iiul  disi^^iisl. 

'V\\c  Coimt,  with  llu>  lu'lp  nf  liis  scrvnnf,  pickcd  iip  riiim- 
b;ii;i  aiid  laid  Iiim  on  liis  l)i'd. 

TliLMi  Aiulrcrt  lei't,  lus  hoart  exullant  willi  lion'ililc  glad- 
iiess. 

Tho  Couiit  Ict  tlio  upual  liour  for  oalling  slip  pas!  iioxt 
dny.  for  ho  began  lo  fear  lest  lie  had  duped  hiiiisclf  and  liad 
iiiado  this  Innnhlr  f'on]i]o  pay  toc  doar  for  Uicir  iinproved 
circunistanccs  and  addcd  wisdom,  since  thcir  pcace  was  de- 
stroyed  for  ever. 

At  last  Giardini  came  to  him  with  a  note  from  "Marianna. 

"Corae,"  she  wrotc,  "tlio  niiseliief  is  not  so  great  as  you  so 
cruelly  nicant  it  to  be." 

"Excellenza,"  said  the  eook,  while  Andn^a  was  making 
ready,  "you  treated  us  splendidly  last  evening.  But  apart 
from  the  wine,  which  was  excellent,  your  steward  did  not 
put  anything  on  the  table  that  was  worthy  to  set  before  a 
true  epicure.  You  will  not  deny,  I  suppose,  that  the  dish  I 
sent  up  to  3'ou  on  the  day  when  you  did  me  the  honor  to  sit 
down  at  my  board,  contained  the  quintessence  of  ail  those 
that  disgracod  ynur  magnificent  service  of  plate?  And  when 
I  awoke  this  morning  I  remembered  the  promise  you  once 
made  me  of  a  place  as  chef.  Henceforth  I  eonsider  myself 
as  a  member  of  your  household." 

"I  thought  of  the  same  thing  a  few  days  ago,"  replied 
Andréa.  "I  mentioned  you  to  the  secretary  of  the  Austrian 
Embassy,  and  a'ou  hâve  permission  to  recross  the  Alps  as 
soon  as  you  please.  I  hâve  a  castle  in  Croatia  which  I  rarely 
visit.  Thcre  you  may  combine  the  offices  of  gate-kecper, 
butler,  and  steward,  with  two  hundred  crowns  a  year.  Your 
wife  will  hâve  as  much  for  doing  ail  the  rest  of  the  work. 
You  may  make  ail  the  experiments  you  please  in  anima  vili, 
that  is  to  say  on  the  stomach  of  my  vassals.  Hère  is  a  chèque 
for  3'our  traveling  expenses." 

Giardini  kissed  the  Count's  hand  after  the  Neapolitan 
fashion. 


GAMBARA  387 

"Excellcnza,"  said  he,  "i  accrpt  tlie  chèque,  but  beg  to 
décline  the  place.  It  would  dislionor  me  to  give  up  my  art 
by  losing  the  opinion  of  the  most  perfect  epicures,  who  are 
certainly  to  be  found  in  Paris." 

When  Andréa  arrived  at  Gambara's  lodgings,  the  musi- 
cian  rose  to  welcome  him. 

"My  generous  friend,"  said  he,  with  the  utmost  frank- 
ness,  "you  either  took  advantage,  last  evening,  of  the  weak- 
ness  of  my  brain  to  niake  a  fool  of  me,  or  else  your  brain 
is  no  more  capable  of  standing  the  test  of  the  heady  liquors 
of  our  native  Latium,  than  mine  is.  I  will  assume  this  latter 
hypothesis;  I  would  rather  doubt  your  digestion  than  your 
heart.  Be  this  as  it  may,  henccforth  I  drink  no  more  wine 
— for  ever.  The  abuse  of  good  liquor  last  evening  led  me 
into   much   guilty   îollj.     When    I    remember   that    I    ver}'' 

nearly "    He  gave  a  glance  of  terror  at  Marianna.     "As 

to  the  wretched  opéra  you  took  me  to  hear,  I  hâve  thought 
it  over,  and  it  is,  aftcr  ail,  music  written  on  ordinary  Unes, 
a  mountain  of  piled-up  notes,  verha  et  voces.  It  is  but  the 
dregs  of  the  nectar  I  can  drink  in  deep  draughts  as  I  repro- 
duce  the  heavenly  music  that  I  hear  !  It  is  a  patchwork 
of  airs  of  which  I  could  trace  the  origin.  The  passage, 
'Gloire  à  la  Providence'  is  too  much  like  a  bit  of  Handcl; 
the  chorus  of  knights  is  closely  related  to  the  Scotch  air  in 
La  Dame  Blanche;  in  short,  if  this  opéra  is  a  suecess,  it  is 
because  the  music  is  borrowed  from  everybody's — so  it  ought 
to  be  popular. 

"I  will  say  good-bye  to  you,  my  dear  friend.  I  hâve  had 
some  ideas  seething  in  my  brain  since  the  morning  that  only 
wait  to  soar  up  to  God  on  the  wings  of  song,  but  I  wished  to 
see  you.  Good-bye  ;  I  must  ask  forgiveness  of  the  Muse. 
We  shall  meet  at  dinner  to-night — but  no  wine;  at  any  rate, 
none  for  me.     I  am  firmly  resolved " 

"I  give  him  up  !"  cried  Andréa,  flushing  red. 

"And  you  restore  my  sensé  of  conscience,"  said  Marianna. 
"I  dared  not  appeal  to  it  !  My  friend,  my  friend,  it  is  no 
fault  of  ours;  he  does  not  waiit  to  be  cured." 


i^ 


38S  «:.\M1?AKA 

Six  yoars  nftcr  tliis,  iii  .l;mii;iry  1837,  suoh  artists  as 
woro  so  unlucky  as  lo  (laïua^c  tlicir  wiiul  oi-  striiii^cd  iiistrn- 
iiu'iits,  i^viuM-ally  tooU  llu'iii  to  [hv  Kiic  l'roid-Maiik'aii,  lo  a 
sqiialid  aiid  horrible  housi<,  wlioiv,  on  thc  lifth  iloor,  dwclt  an 
oUl  Italian  iiaiiu>d  (iainliaia. 

I*\->r  live  years  past  lie  had  hccii  Icfl  to  hiinsclf,  d('S(iri<'<l  l>y 
his  wifc;  lie  had  <j;one  ihroiiL^di  iiiany  iiiisforluncs.  An  iii- 
.-trnnu'iit  on  which  ho  hatl  l'olictl  lo  niakc  his  fortune,  and 
whieh  he  ealled  a  l'aiiharnionicuii.  had  he(>n  soid  hy  or(h'r 
of  tho  Court  on  tho  public  square,  l'iaee  dn  (^hâtclet,  togother 
with  a  cartloail  df  niusie  paper  scrawled  wilh  noirs.  Thr 
day  aller  the  sale,  thèse  scores  had  servcd  in  Ihc  niarket 
to  wraj)  up  butter,  fish,  and  friiit. 

Thus  the  three  grand  o])eras  of  whieh  Ihe  ])oor  Jiian  wonld 
boast,  but  whieh  an  old  Neapolitan  cook,  who  was  now  but 
a  patcher  up  of  broken  méats,  dcclared  to  be  a  heap  of  non- 
sense,  were  scattered  tliroughout  Paris  on  the  trucks  of  coster- 
luongers.  But  at  any  rate,  tlie  landlord  liad  got  his  rent  and 
the  bailiffs  their  expenses. 

According  to  the  Xeapolitan  cook — who  warmed  up  for 
the  street-walkers  of  the  Rue  Froid-Manteau  tho  fragments 
left  from  the  most  sumptuous  dinners  in  Paris — Signora 
I  Gambara  had  gonc  ofï  to  Ttaly  with  a  Milancse  nobleman, 
and  no  one  knew  what  had  l)ecome  of  her,  Worn  ont  with 
fifteen  years  of  misery,  she  was  very  likely  ruining  the  Count 
by  her  extravagant  luxury,  for  they  were  so  devotedly  ador- 
ing  that,  in  ail  his  lifc,  Giardini  eould  recall  no  instance  of 
such  a  passion. 

Towards  the  end  of  that  very  January,  one  evening  when 
Giardini  was  chatting  with  a  girl  who  had  come  to  buy  her 
supper,  about  the  divine  ]\Iarianna — so  poor,  so  beautiful, 
so  heroically  devoted,  and  who  had,  nevertheless,  "gone  the 
way  of  them  ail,"  the  cook,  his  wife,  and  the  street-girl  saw 
coming  towards  them  a  woman  fearfully  thin,  with  a  sun- 
burned,  dusty  face;  a  nervous  walking  skeleton,  looking  at 
the  numbers,  and  trying  to  recognize  a  house. 

"Ecco  la  Marianna!"  exclaimed  the  cook. 


GAMBARA  389 

Marianna  recognized  Giardini,  the  erewhile  cook,  in  the 
])oor  fellow  she  saw,  without  wondcriug  by  what  séries  of 
disasters  he  had  sunk  to  keep  a  misérable  shop  for  secoiid- 
hand  food.  She  went  in  and  sat  down,  for  she  liad  corne 
from  Fontainebleau.  She  had  walked  fourteen  leagues  that 
day,  after  begging  hor  brcad  from  Turin  to  Paris. 

She  f  rightened  that  terrible  trio  !  Of  ail  her  wondrous 
beauty  nothing  remained  but  her  fine  eyes,  dimmed  and 
sunken.     The  only  thing  faithful  to  her  was  misfortune. 

She  "was  welcomed  by  the  skilled  old  instrument  mender, 
who  greeted  her  with  unspeakable  joy. 

"Why,  hère  you  are,  my  poor  ]\lariauna  !"  said  he,  warmly. 
"During  your  absence  they  sold  up  my  instrument  and  my 
opéras." 

It  would  hâve  been  difficult  to  kill  the  fatted  calf  for  the 
return  of  the  Samaritan,  but  Giardini  contributed  the  fag 
end  of  a  salmon,  the  trull  paid  for  wine,  Gamliara 
produced  some  bread,  Signora  Giardini  lent  a  cloth,  and  (he 
unfortunates  ail  supped  together  in  the  musician's  garret. 

When  questioned  as  to  her  adventures,  Marianna  would 
make  no  reply;  she  only  raised  her  beautiful  eyes  to  heaven 
and  whispered  to  Giardini: 

"He  married  a  dancer!" 

"And  how  do  you  mean  to  live?"  said  the  girl.  "The 
journey  has  ruined  you,  and " 

"And  made  me  an  old  woman,"  said  Marianna.  "No, 
that  is  not  the  resuit  of  fatigue  or  hardship,  but  of  grief." 

"And  why  did  you  never  scnd  your  man  hère  any  money  ?" 
asked  the  girl. 

Marianna's  only  answer  was  a  look,  but  it  went  to  the  wo- 
man's  heart. 

"She  is  proud  with  a  vengeance  !"  she  exclaimed.  "And 
much  good  it  has  done  her  !"  she  added,  in  Giardini's  ear. 

Ail  that  year  musicians  took  especial  care  of  their  instru- 
ments, and  repairs  did  not  bring  in  enough  to  enablc  the 
poor  couple  to  pay  their  way;  the  wife,  too,  did  not  earn 
much  by  her  needle,  and  they  were  compelled  to  turn  their 
25 


yiK)  (lAMl'.AKA 

talonts  to  afooiint  in  tlic  lnwcst  U>\-\\\  of  t'inpldviniMii.  Thcy 
^V(nIld  <::o  ont  lo^i'llicr  iii  llir  daik  lo  llic  ('liMiiips  ftlysi'cs 
;nul  sing  diu'ts.  wliith  (lamhaiM,  poor  fcllow,  accomjjaniod 
on  a  wivIcIuhI  «xuilar.  On  tlic  way,  Marianiia,  wlio  on  those 
i'\|>('ilitions  coviTcd  lier  licad  willi  a  sort  of  \('il  of  eoarsc 
muslin,  would  takc  lier  hnshaiid  to  a  groccr's  sl)i)|)  in  tho 
I-'anhoiiri,'  Saint-Ilonori'  and  i^ivc  liiin  two  or  llii-cc  thind)lo- 
fnls  of  hrandy  lo  niak(>  hini  li])sy;  ollici-wisc  lie  (/onld  not. 
play.  Tlu'n  llu'y  would  stand  u])  toî^ctlicr  in  front  of  tluî 
Smart  peojdo  sitting  on  tho  cliaii-s,  and  onc  of  tho  groatcst 
goniuscs  of  tlio  tinio,  tho  iinrocognizcMl  Oiphcus  of  Modem 
^[usio,  wouhl  jiorfonn  jiassagos  froni  his  opéras — pièces  so 
roniarkal)le  that  tliey  could  extract  a  fow  half-penco  froni 
Parisian  sui)incness.  When  some  dilettante  of  coniic  opéras 
happened  to  be  sitting  therc  and  did  not  recognize  from  what 
work  they  were  taken,  hc  would  question  tho  wonian  dressed 
likc  a  Grcek  priestess,  who  held  out  a  bottle-stand  of  stamped 
métal  in  which  she  collected  charity. 

"I  say,  my  dear,  what  is  that  music  out  of  ?" 

"The  opéra  of  Maliomet,"  Marianna  would  reply. 

As  Rossini  eomposed  an  opéra  called  Mahomet  H.,  the 
amateur  would  say  to  his  wife,  sitting  at  his  side: 

"What  a  pity  it  is  that  thoy  will  novor  give  us  at  the 
Italiens  any  opéras  by  Rossini  but  those  we  know.  That  is 
really  very  fine  music  !" 

And  Gambara  would  smile. 

Only  a  few  days  since,  this  unhappy  couple  had  to  pay 
the  trifling  sum  of  thirt3^-six  francs  as  arrears  of  rent  for 
the  cock-loft  in  which  they  lived  resigned.  The  groccr  would 
not  give  them  crédit  for  the  brandy  with  which  Marianna 
plied  her  husband  to  enable  him  to  play.  Gambara  was, 
consequently,  so  unendurably  bad  that  the  ears  of  the 
wealthy  were  irresponsive,  and  the  tin  bottle-stand  remained 
empty. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  A  handsome  Italian, 
the  Principessa  Massimilla  Di  Varese,  took  pity  on  the  poor 


GAMBARA  391 

créatures;  she  gave  them  forty  francs  and  questioned  tliem, 
discerning  from  the  wonum's  thanks  that  she  was  a  Venetian. 
Prince  Emilio  would  know  the  history  of  their  woes,  and 
Marianna  told  it,  making  no  complaints  of  God  or  men. 

"Madame,"  said  Gambara,  as  she  ended,  for  he  was  sober, 
"vve  are  the  victims  of  our  owu  superiority.  ^My  music  is 
good.  But  as  soon  as  niusic  transcends  feeling  and  becomes 
an  idea,  only  persons  of  genius  should  be  the  hearers,  for  they 
alone  are  capable  of  responding  to  it  !  It  is  my  misfortune 
that  I  hâve  heard  the  chorus  of  angels,  and  believed  that  men 
could  understand  those  strains.  The  same  thing  happens  to 
women  when  their  love  assumes  a  divine  aspect:  men  cannot 
understand  them." 

This  speech  was  well  worth  the  forty  francs  bestowed  by 
Massimilla  ;  she  took  out  a  second  gold  pièce,  and  told  Mari- 
anna she  would  write  to  Andréa  Marcosini. 

"Do  not  Write  to  him,  madame  !"  exclaimed  Marianna. 
"And  God  grant  you  to  be  always  beautif  ul  !" 

"Let  lîs  provide  for  them,"  said  the  Princess  to  her  hus- 
band  ;  "for  this  man  has  remained  faithf ul  to  the  Idéal  which 
we  hâve  killed." 

As  he  saw  the  gold  pièces,  Gambara  slied  tears;  and  then 
a  vague  réminiscence  of  old  scientific  experiments  crossed 
his  mind,  and  the  hapless  composer,  as  he  wiped  his  eyes, 
spoke  thèse  words,  which  the  circumstances  made  pathetic: 

"Water  is  a  product  of  burning." 

Paris,  June  1837. 


t^ 


0 


BINDING  SECT.  AUG     b  1971 


PQ       Balzac,  Honoré  de 

2161        Comédie  humaine 

S25 

1899 

V.3 


DUE  \jhi 

m  '  3  '