That very evening Beza and Lorraine crossed swords for the first time in the apartments of Navarre.[1087] The former, coming by invitation, was much surprised to find there before him not only Antoine and his brothers, but Catharine de' Medici and Cardinal Lorraine, neither of whom had he previously met. Without losing his self-possession, however, he briefly adverted to the occasion of his coming, and the queen mother in return graciously expressed the joy she would experience should his advent conduce to the peace and quietness of the realm. Hereupon the cardinal took part in the conversation, and said that he hoped Beza might be as zealous in allaying the troubles of France as he had been successful in fomenting discord—a remark which Beza did not let pass unchallenged, for he declared that he neither had distracted nor intended to distract his native land. From inquiries respecting Beza's great master, Calvin, his age and health, the discourse turned to certain obnoxious expressions which Lorraine attributed to Beza himself; but the latter entirely disclaimed being their author, much to the confusion of the cardinal, who had expected to create a strong prejudice against his opponent in the minds of the by-standers. The greater part of the evening, however, was consumed in a discussion respecting the real presence. Beza, while denying that the sacramental bread and wine were transmuted into the body and blood of Christ, was willing to admit, according to Calvin's views and his own, "that the bread is sacramentally Christ's body—that is, that although that body is now in heaven alone, while we have the signs with us on earth, yet the very body of Christ is as truly given to us and received by faith, and that to our eternal life, on account of God's promise, as the sign is in a natural manner placed in our hands."[1088] The statement was certainly far enough removed from the theory of the Romish Church to have consigned its author to the flames, had the theologians of the Sorbonne been his judges. But it satisfied the cardinal,[1089] who confessed that he was little at home in a discussion foreign to his ordinary studies—a fact quite sufficiently apparent from his confused statements[1090]—and did not attempt to conceal the little account which he made of the dogma of transubstantiation.[1091] "See then, madam," said Beza, "what are those sacramentarians, who have been so long persecuted and overwhelmed with all kinds of calumnies." "Do you hear, cardinal?" said the queen to Lorraine. "He says that the sacramentarians hold no other opinion than that to which you have assented."[1092] With this satisfactory conclusion the discussion, which had lasted a couple of hours,[1093] was concluded. The queen mother left greatly pleased with the substantial agreement which the two champions of opposite creeds had attained in their first interview, and flattering herself that greater results might attend the public conferences. The cardinal, too, professed high esteem for Beza, and said to him, as he was going away: "I adjure you to confer with me; you will not find me so black as I am painted."[1094] Beza might have been pardoned, had he permitted the cardinal's professions somewhat to shake his convictions of the man's true character. He was, however, placed on his guard by the pointed words of a witty woman. Madame de Crussol, who had listened to the entire conversation, as she shook the cardinal's hand at the close of the evening, significantly said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by all: "Good man for to-night; but to-morrow—what?"[1095] The covert prediction was soon fulfilled. The very next day the cardinal was industriously circulating the story that Beza had been vanquished in their first encounter.[1096]

A Huguenot petition.

Vexatious delay.

The petition informally granted.

The Protestant ministers, assembled at St. Germain about ten days before Beza's arrival,[1097] had, with wise forethought, presented to the king a petition embracing four points of prime importance.[1098] They guarded against an unfair treatment of the cause they had come to maintain, by demanding that their opponents, the prelates, should not be permitted to constitute themselves their judges, that the king and his council should preside in the conferences, and that the controversy should be decided by reference to the Word of God. Moreover, lest the incidents of the discussion should be perverted, and each party should so much the more confidently arrogate to itself the credit of victory as the claim was more difficult of refutation, they insisted on the propriety of appointing, by common consent of the two parties, clerks whose duty it would be to take down in writing an accurate account of the entire proceedings. To so reasonable a petition the court felt compelled to return a gracious reply. The requests could not, however, be definitely granted, the ministers were told, without first consulting the prelates, and gaining, if possible, their consent.[1099] This was no easy matter. Many of the doctors of Poissy, and even some members of the council, maintained that with condemned heretics, such as the Huguenots had long been, it was wrong to hold any sort of discussion.[1100] Day after day passed, but the attainment of the object for which the ministers had come seemed no nearer than when they left their distant homes. They were not yet permitted to appear before the king and vindicate the confession of faith which they had, several months before, declared themselves prepared to maintain.[1101] Meantime it was notorious that their enemies were ceaselessly plotting to arrange every detail of the conference—if, indeed, it must be held—in a manner so unfavorable to the reformers, that they might rather appear to be culprits brought up for trial and sentence, before a court composed of Romish prelates, than as the advocates of a purer faith.[1102] At length, weary of the protracted delay, the Protestant ministers presented themselves before Catharine de' Medici, on the eighth of September, and demanded the impartial hearing to which they were entitled; and they plainly announced their intention to depart at once, unless they should receive satisfactory assurances that they would be shielded from the malice of their enemies.[1103] It was well for the Protestants that they exhibited such decision. Catharine, who always deferred a definite decision on important matters until the last moment—a habit not unfrequently leading to the hurried adoption of the means least calculated to effect her selfish ends—was constrained to yield a portion of their demands. In the presence of the Protestants an informal decree was passed, with the consent of Navarre, Condé, Coligny, and the chancellor[1104]—those members of the council who happened to be in the audience chamber—that the bishops should not be made judges; that to one of the secretaries of state should be assigned the duty of writing out the minutes of the conference, but that the Protestants should retain the right of appending such notes as they might deem proper. The king would be present at the discussions, together with the princes of the blood. But Catharine peremptorily declined to grant a formal decree according these points. This, she said, would only be to furnish the opposite party with a plausible pretext for refusing to enter into the colloquy.[1105] Meanwhile she urged them to maintain a modest demeanor, and to seek only the glory of God, which she professed to believe that they had greatly at heart.[1106]

Last efforts of the Sorbonne to prevent the colloquy.

The Romish party, however, was unwilling to approach the distasteful conference without a final attempt to dissuade the queen from so perilous an undertaking. As the Protestants left Catharine's apartments, a deputation of doctors of the Sorbonne entered the door. They came to beg her not to grant a hearing to heretics already so often condemned. If this request could not be accorded, they suggested that at least the tender ears of the king should be spared exposure to a dangerous infection. But Catharine was too far committed to listen to their petition. She was resolved that the colloquy should be held, and held in the king's presence.[1107]


CHAPTER XII.