There were rumours of poison, but the matter was hushed; the next incident that was calculated to alarm the Huguenots was the attempted assassination of the Admiral. A miscreant, supposed to be a creature of the Duchess of Nemours, (widow of the Duke of Guise, who died at Orleans,) fired a shot from an arquebuse, as Coligny was passing a window, and wounded him in the right hand and left arm.
But the time had not yet arrived. The King hastened to the Admiral’s house, Rue de Béthisy, now Rue des Fossés, to inquire, to sympathise, and to condole, promising that the assassin should be brought to justice. Whether De Coligny’s eyes were opened at last or not, it was now too late.
On the night of the Feast of St. Bartholomew, the Duke of Guise, at the head of a body of men, forced the door of Coligny’s house, and killed the guard, while a Bohemian, by name Behme, rushed up to the Admiral’s bedchamber. Awaked by the noise, the man who had braved danger in almost every form, opened the door, and stood face to face with the intruder. Being asked if he were the Sire de Coligny, he replied in the affirmative, and then added, ‘Jeune homme, respectez mes cheveux blancs.’ The miscreant’s only answer was by a sword-thrust on the head, then seizing his victim by the heels, he dragged him to the window, and flung him headlong into the court below, at the feet of the Duke of Guise. This brutal man kicked his expiring enemy several times, and then delivered him up to the mob, who tore him to pieces. The body was gibbeted at Montfaucon, and the King went to look at it, saying, with the Emperor Vitellius, ‘that a dead enemy is not a horrible sight, and does not smell bad.’ The Admiral’s faithful servants carried off the corpse at great personal risk, and buried it at Châtillon, but it was afterwards transported to Maupertuis, whose proprietor caused a grand monument to be erected. Thus died this brave and noble man, after a life full of vicissitude, leaving behind him a name dear to all lovers of human greatness and goodness, whatever their creed or nation.
As a general he was not reckoned successful, yet so energetic and skilful at ‘reparation,’ that De Coligny was considered more dangerous after defeat ‘than his enemies after victory.’
Although a staunch disciplinarian, he was much beloved by his soldiery on account of his benevolence and consideration. He spoke and wrote well, and was the author of several works, some of which are still extant.
Gaspard de Coligny was twice married—first to Charlotte de Laval, daughter of Guy, fifteenth of that name, Comte de Laval, by Antoinette de Daillon, by whom he had several sons and daughters. The circumstances attending his second marriage are of so remarkable and romantic a nature that we cannot pass them over in silence. Jacqueline de Montbel was the daughter and sole heir of a noble and wealthy Savoyard, the Comte d’Entremonts, and widow of Claude de Bastarnai, Comte de Bonchage. She was moreover a zealous Huguenot, and the reputation of Coligny, as the champion of that persecuted party, and the fame of his valour and piety, had so inflamed the fancy of the beautiful Savoyarde, that even before they had ever met, she conceived an unconquerable passion for the far-famed hero. The Duke of Savoy was very much averse to the marriage, probably wishing to retain the lady and her wealth within the precincts of his own dominions. He therefore caused her to be watched, but woman’s wit eluded his vigilance; the Comtesse Jacqueline escaped to La Rochelle, and bestowed her hand on the man she had chosen from the world beside. The Duke of Savoy, enraged at her disobedience, seized on the lady’s estates.
About the same time Louise, Coligny’s daughter by his first wife, was united to M. de Téligny, ‘un simple gentilhomme, de la compagnie de l’Amiral de Châtillon.’ He was much beloved by his father-in-law, whose fate he shared, being also murdered on the day of St. Bartholomew; Louise survived, to become the wife of William of Nassau, Prince of Orange.
There is a curious historical parallel between more than one circumstance in the lives of these two heroes, both heads of the Huguenot party, both beloved, from their reputation alone, by noble and beautiful women, and both victims of a cruel murder. By De Coligny, Jacqueline had a posthumous daughter named Beatrice; we cannot close this brief notice without inserting a translation of the characteristic epitaph which was written in Latin:—
‘Ci gissent les os de Gaspard de Coligny, Grand Amiral de France, Seigneur de Châtillon, son âme est dans le sein de Celui pour lequel il combattit avec tant de constance.’