The Reformation in France, which had made immense strides during the last years of Henri II., notwithstanding the fierce, if intermittent, persecution to which it had been subjected, had ceased to be a purely religious movement and was developing into a formidable political combination with which it was the interest of discontented and ambitious nobles to make common cause, without in any way partaking of its spiritual aspirations. Condé, with his gay and pleasure-loving nature, could have had but little sympathy with the austere tenets of Calvinism, and it is probable that the mortifications he had experienced, the hope of uniting his fortunes with the chances of success which the Reformers were able to offer, and, above all, his hatred of the Guises, contributed far more than religious convictions to decide him to embrace their faith and their cause. His elder brother, Antoine, who, on the death of his father-in-law Henri d’Albret, in 1555, had succeeded to the throne of Navarre, had already done so, but, though brave enough in war, he was irresolute and shifty to the last degree, and now, when faced with the necessity for vigorous action, he declined to compromise himself; and it was therefore to the second Prince of the Blood that the Huguenots and the swarm of disbanded soldiers and disappointed office-seekers whom the Guises had driven into the ranks of the opposition looked for leadership. How far Condé was implicated in the Conspiracy of Amboise, whether or no he was the chef muet who, in the event of a first success, was to place himself at the head of the movement, is a question which is never likely to be satisfactorily answered. It is sufficient that he was almost universally identified with that mysterious personage at the time, and that this belief came near to costing him his life.

Although permitted, after his indignant denial of the charge, to withdraw from Court, he and the King of Navarre, notwithstanding the entreaties of the Princesse de Condé, most imprudently resolved to obey the summons of François II. to the States-General at Orléans. It was to place his head in the lion’s mouth, for in the interval fresh evidence, or what might pass for evidence, against him had been obtained, and the Guises were resolved on his destruction. On 30 October, 1560, the two princes arrived at Orléans. The King received them with ominous coldness, and, as Condé was leaving the apartments of the Queen-Mother, where the audience had taken place, he was arrested, and conducted to a house near the convent of the Jacobins, which was immediately barred up, surrounded by soldiers, and transformed into a veritable Bastille. His wife, who, on learning of his arrest, had hastened to Orléans, was refused permission to see him; his attendants were withdrawn, and he was kept in the most absolute solitude.

Catherine de’ Medici, who at this time possessed little or no power, and had been compelled, from the instinct of self-preservation, to cling to the Guises, pretended to approve of what had been done, and replied to all who besought her not to allow the prince to be brought to trial. “It is my son’s will.” She confined her efforts to saving the King of Navarre, who was merely kept under surveillance in his apartments.

Although, as a Prince of the Blood, it was Condé’s undoubted privilege to be tried by the Grande Chambre of the Parlement in Paris, in which the princes and peers sat, the King entrusted his examination to a commission of judges presided over by Christophe de Thou, First President of the Parlement. Condé denied the competency of this tribunal, and “appealed from the King ill-advised to the King better-advised.” But his imprudence in accepting the services of two advocates gave a semblance of legality to the proceedings, and his appeals and protests having been overruled by the Privy Council, in which such was the fear inspired by the Guises that no one dared to utter a word in his defence, on 26 November, he was sentenced “to lose his head on the scaffold.”

It was at first considered probable that the King’s clemency would be extended to his condemned kinsman, “in consideration of his youth,” and every effort was made by the Princesse de Condé, the Châtillons, and other persons of high rank to secure a remission of the sentence. But nothing less than the death of their rival would satisfy the Guises, and, though the Chancellor de l’Hôpital, under the pretext of some legal flaw in the decree, succeeded in delaying the execution, it was finally fixed for 10 December, and the scaffold on which it was to take place was erected before the royal lodging.

Condé, whose courage had never once failed him, was calmly awaiting his fate, and actually playing cards with some of the officers who guarded him, when one of his servants, who had been permitted to attend him, approached as though to pick up a fallen card, and whispered: “Notre homme est croqué!” Mastering his emotion, the prince finished his game, and then, taking the man aside, learned from him that François II. was dead. The sickly young King had been taken ill on 16 November, and, though he so far recovered as to preside over the Council which passed judgment against Condé, on the following day his malady assumed a grave form, and on 5 December an abscess which had formed in the ear suddenly broke, and he died in a few minutes.

Foreseeing her eldest son’s approaching end, Catherine de’ Medici, on the advice of l’Hôpital, had determined to save the Bourbons, in order to use them to counterbalance the Guises and assure the independence of the royal power of which she was about to hold the reins. Scarcely had François II. drawn his last breath, when the old Connétable de Montmorency, hastily summoned by her, arrived at Orléans, at the head of eight hundred gentlemen; and the despotism of the Lorraine princes was at an end.

The death of François II. opened the doors of Condé’s prison, but the prince, who attached more importance to his honour than his liberty, refused to accept the latter until the former had been publicly vindicated, and, in the meanwhile, announced his intention of remaining where he was. In this decision he was supported by his wife, but, as his health had suffered during his imprisonment, she persuaded him, towards the end of December, to exchange the severe régime of his detention at Orléans for a mitigated captivity, more apparent than real, in the form of residence on an estate belonging to the King of Navarre, near la Fère, in Picardy. Here he remained for some weeks, when he returned to Court, where his innocence was acknowledged by a declaration of the new King, Charles IX., which was subsequently confirmed by the Parlement, and he was restored to his former position.

CHAPTER II

Critical condition of France at the accession of Charles IX.—Character and policy of Catherine de’ Medici—The Triumvirate—Catherine leans to the side of the Reformers—The “Edict of January”—Massacre of Vassy—Condé remains faithful to the Protestant cause—Beginning of the civil war—The Protestants, at first successful, soon in a desperate position—Condé turns to England for aid: Treaty of Hampton Court—Fall of Rouen—Condé marches on Paris—Battle of Dreux: the prince taken prisoner—Second captivity of Condé—Assassination of Guise—Conference on the Île-aux-Bœufs—The maids-of-honour—Peace of Amboise—Condé follows the Court.