by Eugène Sue
Receive, madam, our apostolic benediction.
PIUS.
After reading the apostolic schedule, Catherine De Medici placed it upon a table and proceeded:
“I see, reverend Father, that both at Rome and Madrid I am charged with tolerance towards the Huguenots. I am blamed with prolonging the war. The two courts see in all this a political calculation on my part, whence it follows that if I continue to displease Rome and Madrid measures will be taken—”
“The Holy Father, the vicar of God on earth, has the power to release subjects from obedience to their sovereign, if he falls into heresy, deals with the same, or tolerates it.”
“Proceed, reverend Father.”
“The confirmatory bull of his Holiness Paul IV is formal — the Pope of Rome, by virtue of his divine right, is vested with power to excommunicate, suspend and depose all Kings guilty of divine lese majesté, or tolerant toward that irremissible crime. After which, the throne being declared vacant, it devolves upon the first good Catholic — who make take possession.”
“That sounds like a threat, directed at my son Charles IX and at myself.”
“It is a paternal warning, madam.”
“In plain words, my son runs the risk of seeing himself deposed by the Pope.”
“A disagreeable possibility, madam.”
“Reverend Father, assuming the throne is declared vacant — by whom will our Holy Father have it filled? Surely not by a Bourbon, seeing the house of Bourbon is heretical. Consequently, the good Catholic Rome and Spain have in view probably is young Henry of Guise, the descendant of Charlemagne, according to the theory of the house of Lorraine.”
“That is a temporal question which does not concern me, madam. It is, however, a notable fact that young Henry of Guise, son of the martyr of Orleans, carries a name that is dear to all Catholics.”
“Accordingly, the purpose of your mission, reverend Father, is to convey a threat to me? But why blame me, a woman, with the slowness of the military operations against the Huguenots?”
“It is believed, madam, that you would look with too much disfavor upon a chief who would insure speedy triumph to the Catholic armies, and that you deliberately hamper the military operations by inciting rivalry among the several captains and setting them at odds. The strategic mistake of allowing the Duke of Deux-Ponts to penetrate into the very heart of France and carry a reinforcement of troops to the Huguenots is laid to your door. The junction of the two army corps is now an accomplished fact.”
“The Duke of Deux-Ponts!” exclaimed Catherine De Medici with a sinister smile. “You do not seem to know what has befallen that heretic chief. But, before speaking of the miscreant, I wish to put you in condition to appreciate the facts concerning myself. I shall be frank — my interests command it.”
“Madam, I am ready to hear.”
“In order that you may have the key to my falsely interpreted conduct, I shall begin by making the following declaration to you — I have no religion! Does such an introduction, perchance, astonish or shock you?”
“By no means.”
“Then, my reverend Father, we shall be able to understand each other. You justify — according to what is reported of your Order — tolerance for vice, provided appearances are saved. Now, then, I have no religion. It follows that I concern myself only with promoting my own ambition.”
“Frankness can not be carried further.”
“With the same outspokenness I shall add that I love power — to rule is life to me. I have been compared to Queen Brunhild. It is said I wink at precocious debauchery among my children with the view of unnerving and stupefying them. It is claimed I sow the seed of jealousy, intrigue and lechery among them.”
“Those things are said — and many more, and more grave, madam.”
“Some credence must be accorded to hear say, reverend Father. At least, in what concerns myself, people are rarely wide of the mark. But let me proceed. The religious wars have furnished me with the means of alternately cropping the crests, now with the aid of the ones, then with the aid of the others, of both the Catholic and the Protestant seigneurs, who, during my husband’s reign, conceived the design of restoring their old feudal sovereignties. I still have the house of Guise to contend with, as Brunhild of old had the stewards of the palace on her hands. Thus I combated the Reformation, or gave comfort to the Huguenots against the Catholics, according as political exigencies dictated. At present I am well acquainted with the purposes of the Protestants, and I know how to conduct myself in order to annihilate them — when the moment shall have come to strike the decisive blow.”
“You have unfolded to me your theories, madam, but you have recited not a single act in support of your predilection for our holy Church. We require proofs.”
“Now let us pass to acts, reverend Father. A few minutes ago you mentioned the name of the Duke of Deux-Ponts, who hurried from Germany in aid of the Huguenots Condé, Coligny and his brother Dandelot.”
“The hydra-heads of the heresy, madam.”
“Well, reverend Father, already the hydra has three heads less. The Duke of Deux-Ponts is dead; Monsieur Dandelot is dead; the Prince of Condé is dead!”
The Jesuit, though stupefied, contemplated Catherine De Medici challengingly.
“Perhaps you would like to have some details concerning these great events,” the imperturbable Queen pursued. “I shall satisfy your curiosity. The day following his junction with the Protestant army, the Duke of Deux-Ponts was poisoned. That is the word which is current. But you, reverend Father, and myself, look to facts, not words. The Duke of Deux-Ponts was poisoned with a cup of Spanish wine, that was poured out to him by a young beauty. Two days later, Dandelot, who suffered of a slow fever, was coaxed by another young beauty to swallow a pharmaceutical potion that quickly carried away both the disease and the patient. At the battle of Jarnac, the Prince of Condé, who had surrendered his sword to D’Argence under promise that his life would be safe, was shot down dead with a pistol by Montesquiou, a captain of my son of Anjou’s guards. The occurrence came near turning my son crazy, such was his joy! When notified of what had happened, he hastened to the spot to see the corpse with his own eyes. He kicked it, and danced over and around it. It was a delirium! Finally, for fun, the thought struck him of placing the corpse across a she-ass, with the head dangling down on one side, the legs on the other. On that distinguished mount he returned the defunct general to the Protestant army, amid the hootings and cat-calls of our own soldiers. That is the way my children treat their heretical relatives. Will his Holiness still insist that we deal with the Huguenots, or that we have any consideration for the enemies of the Church?”
“Oh, madam!” cried the Jesuit, almost choking with glee. “I lack words to express to you my admiration.”
“And yet you claimed,” proceeded Catherine De Medici with a hyena-like smirk, “that I favored the Huguenots! Would the Guisards, the Holy Father or Philip II do better than I? Hardly has the campaign opened when Condé, the soul of the French Protestant party, has ceased to breathe; the Duke of Deux-Ponts, the soul of the German party, has ceased to live; and Dandelot, one of the ablest Protestant generals, is also dead. Nor is that all!” added the Italian woman, taking from the table the letter of the Duke of Anjou, freshly brought to her by the captain of her son’s guards, and passing it over to Lefevre, “Read this!”
The Jesuit took the letter, and, after informing himself of its contents, cried, contemplating the Queen with ecstasy:
“So that we may expect, to-morrow, to see Coligny effect a junction with his brother Dandelot!”
“Well, now, do you not think I have done a good deal of work?”
“Oh, you have accomplished and even exceeded all that the Holy Father and the King of Spain could have asked!”
“And yet, I still have information for you.” Saying this, the Queen rang twice the bell near her. A page appeared. “Bring me,” ordered Catherine, “the ebony casket that you will f
ind in my chamber, on the table near my bed.”
The page went out and Catherine turned again to the Jesuit:
“You surely know Prince Franz of Gerolstein by name and reputation?”
“I know, madam, that the principality of that heretical family is a hot-bed of pestilence. We keep our eyes open upon that nest of miscreants.”
“The Duke of Deux-Ponts appointed as commander of his troops the aged general Wolfgang of Mansfeld, but did so with the recommendation that the active direction of operations be entrusted to the Prince of Gerolstein, a young, but one of the ablest German generals. This very night one of my maids of honor is to depart—”
The re-entrance of the page broke off the Queen’s sentence. He deposited the casket beside Catherine and withdrew.
“You were saying, madam,” observed Father Lefevre, “that one of your maids of honor was to depart this very night—”
“You seem to relish deeply my communications, reverend Father, and yet it was only a few minutes ago that you almost treated me like a Huguenot woman.”
“Mercy, madam, a truce of raillery. The unexpected and happy tidings you have imparted to me were not known by the Holy Father and the King of Spain when I left them. I declare to you, madam, that these events modify profoundly my mission to your court.”
“Well, reverend Father, I am constantly saying to the Spanish ambassador and the papal legate in France: ‘Wait — let me do — have patience.’ But all to no avail. The Holy Father yields to the inspirations of the agents of the Cardinal of Lorraine, while Philip II dreams of the dismemberment of France and desires to place Henry of Guise on the throne. In that Philip II plays a risky game, reverend Father! To overthrow the reigning dynasty of France would be to set a bad example to the people, and to deal a mortal blow to monarchy itself. We are living in frightful times. Everything conspires against royalty. The Huguenots, at least some of them who style themselves the most advanced in politics, proclaim the people’s right to federate in a republic after the fashion of the Swiss cantons. And even you, my reverend Fathers, you also attack royal authority by preaching the doctrine of regicide.”
“That is true, madam; we maintain that the Kings who do not labor for the greater glory of the Church must be smitten from the throne.”
“Neither my sons nor I refuse to labor for the greater glory of the Church. It must be a matter of indifference to the Holy Father whether the Huguenots are exterminated by us or by the Guises, or by Spain. What advantage could the court of Rome derive from suppressing the dynasty of Valois?”
“His Holiness sees clearly through the game of the King of Spain. He will never favor Philip’s ambitious designs to the injury of your dynasty — unless obliged thereto by your resistance to the court of Rome. We aim at the extirpation of heresy by the extermination of the Huguenots; and I have been commissioned, madam, to urge you to prosecute the war with vigor—”
“The war!” broke in the Queen impatiently, and with marked contempt and irony. “How come you, a Jesuit, a man of keenness and science, to make yourself the echo of the Pope and of Philip II, two nearsighted intellects? Let us reason together, my reverend Father. Would you, if you want to kill your enemy, choose the time when he is on his guard and armed? Would you not wait for when he sheathed his sword and was peacefully asleep in his house? And in order to lead him to that state of apparent security, would you not approach him with a smile on your lips, your hand outstretched, and with the words: ‘Let us forget our enmity’?”
“But for the success of such tactics our enemy must have confidence in us.”
“Protestations of friendship are supported by oaths.”
“Oh! Oh! Vain hope! Your Majesty errs if you believe you can lull the suspicions of the Huguenots with oaths.”
“I am of the school of Machiavelli, reverend Father; as such I have faith in the efficacy of oaths. Listen to this passage from the volume entitled The Prince. I learned it by heart; it deals upon this very subject: ‘The animals whose appearance a Prince must know how to assume are the fox and the lion. The former defends himself but poorly against the wolf, while the latter readily falls into the snares laid for him. From the fox a Prince will learn how to be adroit, from the lion how to be strong. Whoever disdains the method of the fox knows nothing of governing men. In other words, a Prince neither can nor should keep his word, except when he can do so without injury to himself. The thing is to play his part well, and to know when to feign and dissimulate. To cite but one instance: Pope Alexander VI made deception his life-work. This notwithstanding, despite his well known faithlessness, he succeeded in all his artifices, protestations and oaths.’ Did you hear, reverend Father,” added the Italian woman interrupting her recitation and laying stress upon the word oaths, and she proceeded: “‘Never before did any Prince break his word more frequently, or respect his pledges less, because he was master of the art of governing.’ Alexander VI was an incestuous Pope; he committed murder and sacrilege, yet there were those who believed they could rely upon his oath. I am said to be an incestuous mother; I am said to have caused blood to flow in streams; I am said to have caused my enemies to be poisoned; all these and many more misdeeds are imputed to me. Very well! Now, all this notwithstanding, they will place faith in my oaths. Judge the future by the past. Remember that after the revocation of the Edict of Amboise, the Huguenot party allowed itself to be trepanned by the Edict of Longjumeau, confirmed by our royal word. But let us now pass to another line of argument, my reverend Father. Please hand me yonder casket — not the one the page just brought in, the other.”
The Jesuit placed on the table before the Queen the casket that she pointed out. She opened it with a little key suspended from her waist, and took out of it a scroll of paper which she handed to Father Lefevre.
“Inform yourself on this document, reverend Father,” she said.
Father Lefevre read as follows:
“Summary of the matters primarily agreed upon between the Duke of Montmorency, Constable; the Duke of Guise, Grand Master and Peer of France; and Marshal St. André, for the conspiracy of the triumvirate, and subsequently discussed at the entrance of the sacred and holy Council of Trent, and agreed upon by the parties herein concerned at their private council held against the heretics and the King of Navarre, because of his maladministration of the affairs of Charles IX, minor King of France, the which King of Navarre is a partisan of the new sect which now infests France.”
The Jesuit looked surprised. Deeply interested, he asked: “How is your Majesty in possession of this secret pact?”
“It matters not how.”
The Jesuit proceeded to read:
“In order that the affair be conducted under the highest authority, it is agreed to vest the superintendence of the whole plan in the Very Catholic King of all the Spains, Philip II, who shall conduct the enterprise. He is to remonstrate with the King of Navarre on the score of the support that he affords to the new religion; and if the said Navarrais proves intractable, the said King Philip II is to endeavor to draw him over to him with the promise of the restitution of Navarre, or some other gift of great profit or emolument. By these means the said King Philip II is to soften him, to the end of inducing him to conspire against the heretical sect. If he still resists, King Philip II shall raise the necessary forces in Spain, and fall unexpectedly upon the territory of Navarre, which he will be easily able to be overrun, while the Duke of Guise, declaring himself at the same time chief of the Catholic confession, shall from his side gather armed men, and, thus pressed from two sides, the territory of Navarre can be easily seized.”
“So you see, reverend Father, the pact dates back to 1651 — eight years ago — and already then did Francis of Guise declare himself chief of the Catholic confession, under the protection of the King of Spain. Neither myself, the Regent, nor my son, the King of France, although then a minor, is at all taken into consideration.”
The Jesuit proceeded to read aloud:
“The
Emperor of Germany and other Princes who have remained Catholic shall block the passages to France during the war in that country, in order to prevent the Protestant Princes from coming to the aid of the Navarrais, and they will also see to it that the Swiss cantons remain quiet. To that end it will be necessary that the Catholic cantons declare war upon the Protestant ones, and that the Pope give all the assistance in his power to the said Catholic cantons, and that he subsidize them with money and other necessaries for the war.
“While war is thus keeping France and Switzerland busy, the Duke of Savoy shall fall unexpectedly upon Geneva and Lausanne, shall seize the two cities, and shall put all the inhabitants who resist to the sword, and all the others shall be thrown into the lake, WITHOUT DISTINCTION OF AGE OR SEX, to the end that all may be made to feel that divine Providence has compensated for the postponement of punishment with its grandeur, and wills that the children suffer for the heresy of their parents, obedient to the Biblical text.”
“Oh, we must all admit, madam,” exclaimed the Jesuit, interrupting his reading, “Duke Francis of Guise is nourished with the marrow of Catholicism—”
“We of the house of Valois will suck the identical bone, and we will verify the dream of the Guisard, who was assassinated the very day after he signed this pact—”
Again the Jesuit proceeded to read:
“The same in France. For good and just reasons all the heretics, without distinction, must be massacred at one blow. The peace shall be put to that use. And this mission of exterminating all the members of the new religion shall be entrusted to the Duke of Guise, who shall, moreover, be charged with entirely effacing the name and stock of the lineage of the Navarrian Bourbons, lest from them there may arise some one to undertake the revenge of these acts, or the restoration of the new religion. All these matters are to be kept in mind.
