Francis was a Catholic and condemned Protestantism in Francis, but in Germany he allied himself to the Protestant party against the emperor. Henry II (1547-1559), Francis’s son, did the same—and won some territory by the manoeuver—although he had strengthened his Catholic interests by marrying Catherine de Medicis, a niece of the Pope, and showed himself by no means friendly to the democratic ideas which the new religion fostered. His strength constantly was spent against the movement even to the end of his reign when he made an alliance for purposes of persecution with Philip II of Spain, husband of “Bloody Mary” of England. One of the first fruits of this union with the land of the Inquisition was the trial of a distinguished member of the Parliament, Anne du Bourg. Henry’s death merely interrupted the examination and du Bourg was burned on the Grève before the City Hall.
The Paris Protestants or Huguenots lived chiefly in the Faubourg Saint Germain on the left bank.
Henry’s chief exploit was the capture of Calais which had been in the hands of the English ever since the Hundred Years’ War, and whose loss meant so much to Queen Mary of England that she is said to have declared that when she died “Calais” would be found written on her heart.
The celebration in Paris of the capture of the long-lost city was one of the greatest possible failures. The main festivity was to be in the evening at the Maison aux Piliers. It poured in torrents sufficient to put a literal as well as a figurative damper on any pleasure-making. When Henry arrived at the Place de Grève the salutes of artillery frightened his horses and he was almost thrown down as he alighted from his carriage. At supper the crowd was so great that it was almost impossible to get anything to eat. The main part of the program within the hall was a play by the poet Jodelle who has left an amusing account of the evening of “My Disaster.” There were twelve actors in his musical sketch, he says. Of these six were so hoarse that they could not be heard, and the remaining six did not know their parts. One of the characters, Orpheus, was to sing a song in the king’s praise so literally moving that the very stones followed the singer about the stage. But, alas, the property man had misunderstood his orders and instead of preparing two rocks (rochers) he had arranged two steeples (clochers). When the unfortunate author, who had a part himself, saw these unexpected constructions coming across the stage he forgot his own lines, so utter was his amazement and misery.
Henry’s restless reign left him little time to spend in Paris or to devote to its beautifying. Whenever he came to the city festivities of all sorts ran high and the citizens paid for it all, though their temper grew sullen as the demands and the power of the crown increased. Henry expected the city fathers to meet expenses which they, quite reasonably, classed as personal matters; for instance, a charge for the food and shelter and care of a lion, a dromedary and a jaguar, which had been sent to the king from Africa.
Beyond the strengthening of the right bank fortifications, some addition to the palace of the Cité, and the continuation of the new Hôtel de Ville and of Francis I’s Louvre Henry did practically no building. His “H,” sometimes interlaced with his wife’s “C” and sometimes with Diane de Poitiers’ initial topped by her crescent, is by no means so frequent in Paris as, for example, in Fontainebleau, and other suburbs. In the courtyard of the Palais des Beaux-Arts is the façade of the château d’Anet which shows the monogram, and is a beautiful example of renaissance architecture.
A needed charity was instituted by the establishment of a Foundling Hospital. So usual was it to dispose of unwelcome infants that cradles for their reception were placed in the porch of Notre Dame itself. The hospital proved not an entire success, for about a century later Saint Vincent de Paul found that sorcerers, beggars and gymnasts were buying babies from the hospital at a franc apiece. His own foundation of a children’s home came from a chance meeting with a beggar who was breaking his purchase’s legs so that its wails might excite pity from passers-by.
Henry’s death was brought about by one of those tragic happenings that mar times of attempted gayety. Henry was marrying off his daughter and his sister for political reasons and he arranged a double wedding. The festivities included an elaborate supper in the Great Hall of the palace of the City and a tournament in the rue Saint Antoine. The king himself took part in the joust, by accident was mortally wounded by Montgomery, the captain of the Scottish guards, and died in the near-by Hôtel des Tournelles a few days after.
CHAPTER XIII
PARIS OF THE REFORMATION
WHILE Henry II lived Catherine de Medicis was not conspicuous, Henry yielding rather to Diane de Poitiers than to his wife, but the queen-mother wielded a ruthless power over her three young sons who succeeded their father in turn. Through her, also, Italian pictures and books were brought in by their painters and authors, Italian architects transformed French buildings, Italian favorites filled the court, where they introduced the ruffs and padded trunks and soft crowned toques of Italian fashions. Paris streets, narrow as in the days when their Gothic houses were first built, widened into occasional squares meant to remind the queen of her southern home.