Little by little, however, passions died away; and in spite of the quarrels, which were inevitable after such cruel conflicts, the twelve years which elapsed from the promulgation of the edict to the death of the king, form one of the most tranquil epochs of the French Reformation. The old historians express but one regret,—that the reign of Henry IV. had not lasted twelve years longer, in order to have given him time to perfect his work of reconciliation.
Proselytism, already confined within narrow limits by the religious wars, almost entirely ceased after the edict, at least on the part of the Calvinists. The (Roman) Catholics alone continued to enlist a few adherents; but politics weighed more in this cause than argument. Huguenot gentlemen went through the Church of Rome in order to pass into the antechambers of the court.
The priests wished above all things to gain over the pastors. They even became generous in the cause, and upon the authority of a papal brief, they raised a fund to produce thirty thousand livres a year, for the purpose of giving pensions to those ministers and professors, who should be tempted to abjure. But no one could be found to draw upon the purse of the clergy on such conditions.
From 1598 to 1610 the Calvinists entered little into state affairs. The young Henry de Condé had been summoned to Paris in 1595, on the promise that he should be left to the enjoyment of the religion of his father. Scarcely, however, had he arrived before he was placed in the hands of zealous (Roman) Catholics, and he was not only converted, but he became a converter. This prince rewarded his domestics with fifteen sous every time they went to confess, provided they brought him certificates in due form.
One single member of the family of the Bourbons, Catherine of Navarre, sister of Henry IV., remained faithful to the religion of Jeanne d’Albret. She manifested a singular constancy; and upon a false report that she had been to mass, wrote to Mornay—“I shall go there when you become pope.”
She pursued her devotional exercises at Saint Germain-en-Laye, after the entry of Henry IV. into Paris, in order to avoid altercations. But one day, having caused the marriage of a niece of Coligny to be celebrated at the Louvre, and having had for this occasion the doors thrown open during the sermon, the priests bitterly complained. “You are bold,” said the king to them, “to hold such language in my house, and with reference to my sister.” “But a marriage has been performed.” “Well, since it is over, what would you have me do in the matter?”
This trifling incident serves to show how the clergy at that time watched the Reformers with hostile eyes, tightening their chain when it could be done, but never permitting it to be loosened.
It does not appear that the Béarnese king ever set his mind upon his sister’s abjuration, and he would even refer the Calvinists to her, when he found it difficult to comply with their requests. “Address yourselves to my sister,” said he, laughing, to some gentlemen from Saintonge; “for your state has fallen under the spindle.”
He desired in the end to marry her to the Duke de Bar, of the house of Lorraine. This affair, of so little intrinsic importance, occupied the attention of the royal council, the Holy See, and the synods for a long time. A disputation was held before the princess between a doctor of the Sorbonne and a professor of Sedan, which did not, however, result in Catherine’s forsaking her faith. The pope refused to give a dispensation for the marriage; the prelates, in their turn, also refused to move any further; whilst the king, whom these delays disgusted, conceived the idea of summoning his natural brother, the archbishop of Rouen, to his cabinet, a worldly priest, who consented to give the nuptial benediction.
The marriage was not a happy one. The sister of Henry IV. had to suffer coldness and ill-treatment from the Duke de Bar, who allowed himself to be wholly led by the Jesuits. She died in 1604, and no Bourbon since that time has belonged to the Reformed communion.