The "Tumult of Amboise."
When fuller revelations of the extent of the plot were made, the court in consternation shut itself up in the defences of Amboise. Catharine de' Medici, recalling the warning of the Church of Paris, declared that now she saw that the Protestants were men of their word.[822]
The Châtillons consulted.
Coligny gives Catharine good advice.
Meanwhile, not only were vigorous measures adopted to guard against attack, but the most powerful nobles, who might be suspected of complicity, were sounded respecting their intentions. Coligny and his brother, D'Andelot, who, in virtue of their offices as Admiral and Colonel-General of the infantry, stood at the head of the army, received affectionate invitations from Catharine to visit the court. Upon their arrival they were taken apart, and were earnestly entreated by the queen mother and Chancellor Olivier to assist them by their counsel, and not to abandon the young king. To so urgent a request Coligny made a frank reply. He explained the existing discontent and its causes, both religious and political. Persecution, and the usurpation of those who were esteemed foreigners by the French, lay at the root of the troubles. He advised the relaxation of the rigorous treatment of the adherents of the Reformation. Extermination was out of the question. The numbers of the Protestants had become too great to permit the entertaining of such a thought. Moreover, the court might be assured that there were those—and they were not few—who would no longer consent to endure the cruelty to which, for forty years, they had been subjected, especially now that it was exercised under the authority of a young king governed by persons "more hated than the plague," and known to be inspired less by religious zeal than by excessive ambition, and by an avarice that could be satisfied only by obtaining the property of the richest houses in France. An edict of toleration, couched in explicit terms and honestly executed, was the only remedy to restore peace and quiet until the convocation of a free and holy council.[823]
The edict of amnesty March, 1560.
It is promptly registered.
The privy council, if not persuaded of the propriety of initiating a policy of toleration, were at least convinced of the necessity of yielding temporarily to the storm; and even the Guises deemed it advisable to make concessions, which could easily be revoked on the advent of more peaceful times. Accordingly, an edict of pretended amnesty was hastily drawn up, and as expeditiously published. The king was moved to take this step—so the edict made him say—by compassion for the number of persons who, from motives of curiosity or simplicity, had attended the conventicles of the preachers from Geneva—for the most part mechanical folk and of no literary attainments—as well as by reluctance to render the first year of his reign notable in after times for the effusion of the blood of his poor subjects. By the provisions of this important instrument the royal judges were forbidden to make inquisition into, or inflict punishment for any past crime concerning the faith: and all delinquents were pardoned on condition that they should hereafter live as good Catholics and obedient sons of Mother Holy Church. But from the benefits of the amnesty were expressly excluded all preachers and those who had conspired against the person of the king or his ministers.[824] The edict—much to the surprise of those who knew the sanguinary disposition of the judges—was promptly registered by parliament; whether it was that the judges were reconciled to the step by a secret article with which, it was said, they accompanied it, to guide in the future interpretation of the law, or that the majority regarded it as a piece of deceit.[825]
A year's progress.
Beza's comment.