Intrigue of Artus Désiré.
Curiosity to hear Huguenot preaching and singing.
So wonderful an awakening as that which was now witnessed in almost every part of France could not long continue without arousing violent resistance. The very signs that seemed to indicate the speedy triumph of the Reformation were, indeed, the occasion of the institution of an organized opposition of the most formidable character. Hints of the propriety of calling in foreign assistance had even before this time been audibly whispered. The theologians of the Sorbonne, alarmed at the apparent favor displayed for the reformed teachers by the court, had despatched one Artus Désiré with a letter to Philip the Second, in which they supplicated his intervention in behalf of the Catholic religion, now threatened with ruin. Happily the enterprise was nipped in the bud, and, on the arrest of Artus at Orleans, on his way to Spain, the nefarious conspiracy was fully divulged. The priestly agent, after craven prayers for his life, was immured for a time in a cloister.[1014] Well might the Romish party fear. The curiosity to hear the preaching of the Word of God by men of piety and learning, the desire to hear those grand psalms of Marot solemnly chanted by the chorus of thousands of human voices, had infected every class of society. The records of the chapters of cathedrals, during this period of universal spiritual agitation, are little else, we are told, than a list of cases of ecclesiastical discipline instituted against chaplains, canons, and even higher dignitaries, for having attended the Huguenot services. At Rouen, the chief singer of Notre Dame acknowledged before the united chapter that he had often been present at the "assemblies"—nay, more—"that he had never heard anything there which was not good."[1015]
Constable Montmorency's disgust.
In the court at Fontainebleau the contagion daily spread. Beza, it is true, gave expression to the warning that "not to be a Papist and to be a Christian were different things."[1016] But of external marks of an altered condition of things there was no lack. Little account was taken of the arrival of Lent. Meat was openly sold and eaten.[1017] Huguenot preachers conducted their services publicly in the apartments of the Prince of Condé and of Admiral Coligny, first outside of the castle, and then within its precincts. Catharine herself, partaking of the general zeal, declared her intention to hear the Bishop of Valence preach before the young king and the court, in the saloon of the castle. Such was the news that irritated and alarmed the aged, but still vigorous Anne of Montmorency. By birth, by tradition, by long association, the constable was a devoted Roman Catholic. If any motive were wanting to determine him to cling to the ancient régime, it was afforded by the proposition made in the late Particular Estates of Paris that the favorites of the last two monarchs should be required to disgorge the enormous gifts that had helped to impoverish the nation. This project, for which he held the Huguenots responsible, was repugnant alike to his pride and to his exorbitant avarice. His prejudices were, moreover, skilfully fanned into a flame by interested companions. His wife, Madeleine de Savoie—partly from conviction, partly through jealousy of his children by a former marriage—her brother, the Count of Villars,[1018] and the Marshal of St. André—a crafty, insidious adviser—plied him with plausible arguments. Diana, the Duchess of Valentinois, solicited him by daily messages. How could the first Christian baron abandon the ancient faith? How could the favorite of Henry the Second consent to let his rich acquisitions escape him?[1019]
Marshal Montmorency remonstrates.
On one occasion the constable was himself induced to attend the service in the castle at which Bishop Montluc preached; but he came out highly displeased at the doctrines he had heard,[1020] and more convinced than ever that there was a secret compact between Catharine de' Medici and the King of Navarre to change the religion of the country. The next day a number of high nobles, in part ancient enemies—Montmorency, Guise, Montpensier, St. André—met in the obscure chapel of the "basse-court," where a Dominican monk held forth to the common retainers of the royal court. The constable's eldest son, the upright but sluggish Marshal de Montmorency, himself having a secret leaning for the reformed doctrines, was alarmed by this threatening demonstration, and immediately sought, in a private interview with his father, to deter him from entering the arena as the ally of his former antagonists and the opponent of his own nephews, Coligny and D'Andelot. Better, he urged, to be umpire than participant in so ungrateful a contest. The Châtillons, of whom Anne had said that, if they were as good Christians in deed as they were in profession, they would exercise forgiveness toward the Guises, themselves came to see their offended uncle, and protested that they wished the cardinal and his brothers no evil, but desired merely to remove their ability to do them further damage. Neither his son nor his nephews made any impression on the obstinate disposition of the constable. He had caught at the bait by which skilful anglers allured him. He fancied himself the chosen champion of the church of his fathers, now assaulted by redoubtable enemies. What a glorious prospect lay before him if he succeeded! What a halo would surround his name, if the splendor of the military achievements of his youth should be thrown into the shade by the superior glory of having, in his old age, rescued the most Christian nation of the world from the inroads of heresy! To every argument he could only be brought to repeat the trite sophism, "that a change of religion could not be effected without a revolution in the state," and that, though he had no fear of being compelled to restore the gifts he had received from the late monarchs, he would not suffer their actions to be questioned or their honor impeached.[1021]
The Triumvirate formed.
A spurious statement.
On Easter day (the sixth of April), the finishing stroke was given to the new compact between the leaders of the anti-reformed party. Anne de Montmorency and François de Guise partook side by side of the sacrament in the chapel of Fontainebleau, and that evening Guise, Joinville, and St. André were invited guests at the table of the constable.[1022] To the union now distinctly formed, its opponents, in allusion to the number of the foremost members and to their proscriptive designs, soon applied the name of "Triumvirate"—the designation by which it has ever since been known. What the details of these designs were is not altogether certain. If the document that has come down to us, purporting to be an authoritative statement emanating from the original parties to the scheme, could be depended on as genuine, it would disclose to us an atrocious plot, not only against the Huguenots of France, but for the extirpation of Protestantism throughout the world. The sanguinary project was to be executed under the superintendence of his Catholic Majesty of Spain. The King of Navarre, the support of heresy in France, was first to be seduced by promises or terrified by threats. Should neither course prove successful, Philip was to raise an army in the most secret manner before winter. Should Antoine yield at once, he was to be expelled from the kingdom, with his wife and children. Should he attempt resistance, the Duke of Guise would declare himself the head of the Catholics, and, between him and Philip, the heretical King of Navarre would speedily be crushed. Then were all that had ever professed the reformed faith to be slain. Not one was to be spared. The entire race of the Bourbons was to be exterminated, lest an avenger or a resuscitator of Protestantism should arise from its descendants. The emperor and the Catholic princes of Germany would prevent the Protestants beyond the Rhine from sending succor to their French brethren. The Roman Catholic cantons of Switzerland, with the assistance of the Pope, would engage the Protestant cantons. To the Duke of Savoy, supported by Philip and the Italian dukes, was intrusted the welcome task of destroying utterly the nest of heresy—Geneva. Here should the executioner revel in the blood of his victims. Not an inhabitant was to escape. All, without respect to age or sex, were to be slain with the sword or drowned in the lake, as an evidence that divine retribution had compensated for the delay by the severity of the punishment, causing the children to bear, as an example memorable to all time, the penalty of the wickedness of their fathers. The fruits of the French confiscations would be applied as a loan to the expenses of the crusade in Germany, where the united forces of France, the emperor, and the Catholic princes would subjugate the followers of Luther, as they had already exterminated the disciples of Calvin.