his apology, without discovering any visible symptoms of indignation. She then told him, that though, on the first rumor of this dreadful intelligence, she had been astonished that so many brave men and loyal subjects, who rested secure on the faith of their sovereign, should have been suddenly butchered in so barbarous a manner, she had hitherto suspended her judgment, till further and more certain information should be Drought her: that the account which he had given, even if founded on no mistake or bad information, though it might alleviate, would by no means remove the blame of the king's counsellors, or justify the strange irregularity of their proceedngs that the same force which, without resistance, had masacred so many defenceless men, could easily have secured heir persons, and have reserved them for a trial, and for punshment by a legal sentence, which would have distinguished he innocent from the guilty: that the admiral in particular, being dangerously wounded, and environed by the guards of he king, on whose protection he seemed entirely to rely, had no means of escape, and might surely, before his death, have been convicted of the crimes imputed to him: that it was more worthy of a sovereign to reserve in his own hands the sword of justice, than to commit it to bloody murderers, who, being the declared and mortal enemies of the persons accused, employed it without mercy and without distinction: that if these sentiments were just, even supposing the conspiracy of the Protestants to be real, how much more so if that crime was a calumny of their enemies, invented for their destruction? that if, upon inquiry, the innocence of these unhappy victims should afterwards appear, it was the king's duty to turn his vengeance on their defamers, who had thus cruelly abused his confidence, had murdered so many of his brave subjects, and had done what in them lay to cover him with everlasting dishonor: and that for her part, she should form her judgment of his intentions by his subsequent conduct; and in the mean time should act as desired by the ambassador, and rather pity than blame his master for the extremities to which he had been carried.* Elizabeth was fully sensible of the dangerous situation in which she now stood. In the massacre of Paris, she saw the result of that general conspiracy formed for the extermination. of the Protestants; and she knew that she herself, as the head * Digges, p. 247, 248. and protectress of the new religion, was exposed to the utmost fury and resentment of the Catholics. The violence and cruelty of the Spaniards in the Low Countries was another branch of the same conspiracy; and as Charles and Philip, two princes nearly allied in perfidy and barbarity, as well as in bigotry, had now laid aside their pretended quarrel, and had avowed the most entire friendship,* she had reason, as soon as they had appeased their domestic commotions, to dread the effects of their united counsels. The duke of Guise also, and his family, whom Charles, in order to deceive the admiral, had hitherto kept at a distance, had now acquired an open and entire ascendant in the court of France; and she was sensible that these princes, from personal as well as political reasons, were her declared and implacable enemies. The queen of Scots, their near relation and close confederate, was the pretender to her throne; and though detained in custody, was actuated by a restless spirit, and, besides her foreign allies, possessed numerous and zealous partisans in the heart of the kingdom. For these reasons Elizabeth thought it more prudent not to reject all commerce with the French monarch, but still to listen to the professions of friendship which he made her. She allowed even the negotiations to be renewed for her marriage with the duke of Alençon, Charles's third brother :† those with the duke of Anjou had already been broken off. She sent the earl of Worcester to assist in her name at the baptism of a young princess, born to Charles; but before she agreed to give him this last mark of condescension, she thought it becoming her dignity to renew her expressions of blame, and even of detestation, against the cruelties exercised on his Protestant subjects. Meanwhile, she prepared herself for that attack which seemed to threaten her from the combined power and violence of the Romanists: she fortified Portsmouth, put her fleet order, exercised her militia, cultivated popularity with her subjects, acted with vigor for the further reduction of Scotland under obedience to the young king, and renewed her alliance with the German princes, who were no ess alarmed than herself at these treacherous and sanguinary measures, so universally embraced by the Catholics. But though Elizabeth cautiously avoided coming to extremties with Charles, the greatest security that she possessed * Digges, p. 268, 282. * Digges, p. 297, 298. † Digges, passim. Camder, p. 447. Camden, p. 447. * against his violence was derived from the difficulties which the obstinate resistance of the Hugonots still created to him. Such of that sect as lived near the frontiers, immediately, on the first news of the massacres, fled into England, Germany, or Switzerland; [1573.] where they excited the compassion and indignation of the Protestants, and prepared themselves, with increased forces and redoubled zeal, to return into France and avenge the treacherous slaughter of their brethren. Those who lived in the middle of the kingdom took shelter in the nearest garrisons occupied by the Hugonots; and finding that they could repose no faith in capitulations, and expect no clemency, were determined to defend themselves to the last extremity. The sect which Charles had hoped at one blow to exterminate, had now an army of eighteen thousand men on foot, and possessed, in different parts of the kingdom, above a hundred cities, castles, or fortresses; nor could that prince deem himself secure from the invasion threatened him by all the other Protestants in Europe. The nobility and gentry of England were roused to such a pitch of resentment, that they offered to levy an army of twenty-two thousand foot and four thousand horse, to transport them into France, and to maintain them six months at their own charge: but Elizabeth, who was cautious in her measures, and who feared to inflame further the quarrel between the two religions by these dangerous crusades, refused her consent, and moderated the zeal of her subjects. The German princes, less political, or more secure from the resentment of France, forwarded the levies made by the Protestants; and the young prince of Condé, having escaped from court, put himself at the head of these troops, and prepared to invade the kingdom. The duke of Alençon, the king of Navarre, the family of Montmorency, and many considerable men even among the Catholics, displeased, either on a private or public account, with the measures of the court, favored the progress of the Hugonots; and every thing relapsed into confusion. The king, instead of repenting his violent counsels, which had brought matters to such extremities, called aloud for new violences; [1574.] nor could even the mortal distemper, under which he labored, moderate the rage and animosity by which he was actuated. He died without male issue, at the age of twenty-five years; a prince † Digges, p. 335, 341, * Digges, p. 343. whose character, containing that unusual mixture of dissimu lation and ferocity, of quick resentment and unrelenting vengeance, executed the greatest mischiefs, and threatened still worse, both to his native country and to all Europe. Henry, duke of Anjou, who had some time before been elected king of Poland, no sooner heard of his brother's death, than he hastened to take possession of the throne of France and found the kingdom not only involved in the greatest present disorders, but exposed to infirmities for which it was extremely difficult to provide any suitable remedy. [1575.] The people were divided into two theological factions, furious from their zeal, and mutually enraged from the injuries which they had committed or suffered; and as all faith had been violated and moderation banished, it seemed impracticable to find any terms of composition between them. Each party had devoted itself to leaders whose commands had more authority than the will of the sovereign; and even the Catholics, to whom the king was attached, were entirely conducted by the counsels of Guise and his family. The religious connections had, on both sides, superseded the civil; or rather, (for men will always be guided by present interest,) two empires being secretly formed in the kingdom, every individual was engaged by new views of interest to follow those leaders to whom, during the course of past convulsions, he had been indebted for his honors and preferment. Henry, observing the low condition of the crown, had laid a scheme for restoring his own authority, by acting as umpire between the parties, by moderating their differences, and by reducing both to a dependence upon himself. He possessed all the talents of dissimulation requisite for the execution of this delicate plan; but being deficient in vigor, application, and sound judgment, instead of acquiring a superiority over both factions, he lost the confidence of both, and taught the partisans of each to adhere still more closely to their particular leaders, whom they found more cordial and sincere in the cause which they espoused. [1576.] The Hugonots were strengthened by the accession of a German army under the prince of Condé and Prince Casimir; but much more by the credit and personal virtues of the king of Navarre, who, having fled from court, had placed himself at the head of that formidable party. Henry, in prosecution of his plan, entered into a composition with them; and being desirous of preserving a balance between the sects, he granted them peace on the most advantageous conditions. This was the fifth general peace made with the Hugonots; but though it was no more sincere on the part of the court than any of the former, it gave the highest disgust to the Catholics; and afforded the duke of Guise the desired pretence of declaiming against the measures, and maxims, and conduct of the king. That artful and bold leader took thence an occasion of reducing his party into a more formed and regular body ; and he laid the first foundations of the famous "league,” which, without paying any regard to the royal authority, aimed at the entire suppression of the Hugonots. Such was the unhappy condition of France, from the past severities and violent conduct of its princes, that toleration could no longer be admitted and a concession for liberty of conscience, which would probably have appeased the reformers, excited the greatest resentment in the Catholics. [1577.] Henry, in order to divert the force of the league from himself, and even to elude its efforts against the Hugonots, declared himself the head of that seditious confederacy, and took the field as leader of the Romanists. But his dilatory and feeble measures betrayed his reluctance to the undertaking; and after some unsuccessful attempts, he concluded a new peace, which, though less favorable than the former to the Protestants, gave no contentment to the Catholics. Mutual diffidence still prevailed between the parties; the king's moderation was suspicious to both; each faction continued to fortify itself against that breach, which, they foresaw, must speedily ensue; theological controversy daily whetted the animosity of the sects; and every private injury became the ground of a public quarrel. [1578.] The king, hoping by his artifice and subtlety to allure the nation into a love of pleasure and repose, was himself caught in the snare; and sinking into a dissolute indoence, wholly lost the esteem, and, in a great measure, the affections, of his people. Instead of advancing such men of character and abilities as were neuters between these dangerous factions, he gave all his confidence to young, agreeable favorites, who, unable to prop his falling authority, leaned entirely upon it, and inflamed the general odium against his administration. The public burdens, increased by his profuse liberality, and felt more heavy on a disordered kingdom, became another ground of complaint: and the uncontrolled animosity of parties, joined to the multiplicity of taxes, rendered peace more calamitous than any open state of foreign or even |