39. Henry III.
CHAPTER XXXIX. Henry III. (1574-1589)
When Charles was dead, his next brother Henry, who had been Duke of Anjou, became king. He was Catherine's favourite son, and she had managed only a few months before to have him chosen King of Poland. Messengers were now sent to tell him of his brother's death, and call him back to France. Catherine hoped it might be arranged that her fourth and youngest son, who was now just growing up, should be King of Poland in Henry's place. It had been foretold to her when she was young, that all her sons should be kings, and as this had now come true with three of them, she was anxious to see it fulfilled for the last.
However, far from wishing for any other king, the Poles refused to let Henry go. They were in danger from their enemies the Turks, and wanted their king to stay and protect them. But Henry liked France better than Poland, and soon managed to leave the Polish capital by night, taking with him some precious jewels belonging to the crown, and (to make) his way into Austria. The Poles, when they found that he was gone, sent messengers to try and stop him, but in vain; they had to give it up at last, and choose another king. He was probably a better man than Henry; he could hardly have been a worse.
Henry went on into Italy, and there spent his time in amusing himself, showing that it was no wish to begin his duties as king that had made him hurry away from the Poles. He did not arrive in France for three months, and meanwhile his mother governed in his name.
The question about religion in France was as far as ever from being settled. War followed war, and each time that peace was made the Huguenots had rather more promised to them than before; but the promises were usually not kept, or kept only in the parts of France where the Huguenots were the stronger. The natural leaders on the Huguenots' side were the two young princes whom Jane of Navarre had presented to the people after her husband died — her own son, Henry of Navarre, and his cousin, Henry of Condé. They were now young men; Henry of Navarre, the elder of the two, was twenty-one, almost as old as the new King of France. He had at first agreed to live at the court with his wife, who was the king's sister, amusing himself, and seeming to be good friends with Charles while he lived, and afterwards with Henry. But he felt more and more clearly that this was not the right place for him. He remembered his mother's teaching and the death of the Admiral Coligny, his friend, and at last he resolved to leave the court for ever. He made ready secretly, so that the king might not find out what he had planned, and stop him in any way. He succeeded in escaping one night, and riding to a place many miles away, he gathered his friends round him, and put himself at the head of the Huguenots.
There were some people in France who did not care much about the difference between Protestants and Roman Catholics, who, though they were Roman Catholics themselves, were chiefly anxious that France should be at peace, and that the Pope should lose all his unlawful power in the country. This body of people joined themselves with the Huguenots, who thus became much stronger than they had been before. At the head of the Roman Catholic party was the king, who hated the Huguenots, and who was always, after he had arrived in France, doing different strange things to show his subjects how good a Roman Catholic he was. One of his strange habits was to walk through the streets with a scourge, singing hymns and beating himself till his shoulders bled. This was done by many Roman Catholics of the time as a penance or punishment which they gave themselves for their sins; and it was thought to be a very good deed and pleasing to God. The people were therefore pleased to see the king doing it.
At other times he amused himself with balls and entertainments, or childish games; he spent a great deal of time in playing with some little dogs of a particular kind of which he was very fond. The other leader of the Roman Catholics was Henry of Guise, the son of the Duke of Guise, who had been so powerful in the reigns of Charles IX. and Francis II. Henry of Guise was now just grown up, and was as clever and fond of power as his father had been. He despised the king, and had great hopes of being able to make himself the most powerful man in the country, and perhaps, if Henry died without sons, succeeding him on the throne. He and his Roman Catholic friends arranged what they called a League, and tried to persuade all the Roman Catholics in the country to belong to it. They were all to join themselves together in a league or body of friends, and all to make certain promises; one chief promise was to defend the Roman Catholic faith; another, to obey the person who would be chosen by the League to be their head; another, to help each other against any one who might attack or resist them, whoever it might be. The king was the person secretly meant by this, though his name was not mentioned, but every one who belonged to the League knew that if ever there was a war between the king and the Guises, they would be expected to help the Guises. Many people took an oath to join the League and be faithful to it for ever. As soon as it was made, Guise, at the head of it, went to war with the Protestants.
Both sides had asked King Henry to call together the States-General, and see if they could make any arrangement for settling the religious dispute. He agreed, being in want of money, and hoping to persuade the deputies to give him some, and the States met together at Blois. The Huguenots would not be present, nor send any deputies, and the Roman Catholics who came were not very friendly to the king. He had hoped that they would propose to him some severe means of keeping the Huguenots quiet; but there was among the deputies one wise and good man, who, though a Roman Catholic himself, persuaded many of the others that it was better there should be two ways of thinking about religion in the country than that the civil wars which had lasted so long should go on. All the deputies agreed in refusing money to the king, who put an end to the sitting of the States in great disappointment, and everything went on as it had done before. The leaders of the League were also disappointed at finding that they had not more friends, for they had hoped that all the deputies would join with them in wishing to persecute the Huguenots.
One of the troubles of Henry III. was that his brother, who was now called Duke of Anjou, as he had been himself, was his enemy, and might at any time join the Huguenots against him. The duke had always been a friend to the Huguenot leaders, and he had had hopes at one time of marrying Elizabeth, Queen of England; at another time he had thought of being King of the Netherlands.
He marched into the Netherlands, pretending he was going to help the people there in their struggle against Philip II., but he really only tried to make himself master of a few towns and keep them for his own, leaving the rest of the country to help itself as best it might. He did not manage to take the towns, and went back again into France, where he soon after died, to the relief of his brother.
Henry had now no near relation left to be king after him, no brother and no son. The two people for whom he cared most in the world were two favourites, to whom he gave all kinds of posts and honours, and for whom he collected together money by taxing his people almost more than they could bear. They had both been made dukes, and the king arranged that they should marry two of the sisters of the queen, in order that they might be grander than any of the other lords. But the person who would now be king after Henry III. was his enemy, the Huguenot, Henry of Navarre, who was showing himself to be a wiser and a greater man than he had at first seemed likely to be.
He had learned much from his troubles, and had become thoughtful and prudent, as well as brave and active. After the massacre of St. Bartholomew, when he was living at the French court, and had married the king's sister, he had been persuaded to become a Roman Catholic, and had been so till he had gone to put himself at the head of the Huguenot army. He had then declared himself a Huguenot, but he had always treated the Roman Catholics with great kindness, and many people thought that he did not really much prefer (either) religion to the other. The king wrote to him to ask whether, now that he seemed likely soon to become king of France, he would not become a Roman Catholic. He (entirely) refused. The Roman Catholics were much distressed at the idea of having a Huguenot king when Henry should die. Though he was only twenty-three, he was so weak and delicate that his subjects always thought and spoke of him as likely to die at any time. No such thing had ever been known as a Protestant King of France, and people said that such a thing could not lawfully be. They all became eager again to join the League, which had been put an end to by one of the treaties between Henry and his subjects. The oath was again sent all over the country, and those who swore it again became bound to help the Duke of Guise and his friends against any one in France who should resist them.
The King of Spain, Philip II., made a treaty with the Duke of Guise, and promised to send him help; but he was really more anxious that there should be war in France than that either party should succeed in conquering the other. He wanted the French to be busy fighting, so as not to attend to him, while he went to attack the English with his Invincible Armada, which he did just at this time. There is no need for me to say how he (succeeded).
Henry III. was frightened when he saw Guise so strong, and made a treaty with him, promising to join him against the Huguenots. When Henry of Navarre heard of this, he sat up all one night, thinking of the danger in which the Huguenots were, and trying to invent some means of safety or help for them. In the morning he found that half his moustache had turned white from trouble and thought.
After this began a war called the War of the Three Henries. These were King Henry III., Henry of Navarre, and Henry, Duke of Guise. The King of Navarre and the Duke of Guise were real enemies. King Henry was on the side of neither. He was afraid of Guise, and he hated the Huguenots. He called himself the friend of the League, but always drew back from giving it any real help. He had, however, made an edict, that is an order or command, that the Huguenots should be forbidden to hold services in France, that all their ministers and all Huguenots who refused to become Roman Catholics, should leave the country within six months. Hundreds of poor people left their homes and fled out of France, men, women, and children, taking with them what goods they could carry. Many of the king's ministers warned him in vain of the folly and wickedness of thus driving away his subjects. Henry of Navarre had asked for help from the Protestants of Germany, and a body of soldiers were on their way to him at this time, but Guise and his army were between the Huguenots and their friends, and they found it impossible to join. Henry of Navarre met the royal army, commanded by one of the king's two favourites, a brave rash young man. A battle was fought, in which Henry's grave old Huguenots, who began the fight by kneeling down and saying a prayer, and sang a hymn as they marched against their enemies, soon had the better of the young duke's brave but thoughtless soldiers, who had most, of them never been in battle before. The Duke was killed, and this was the first victory of the King of Navarre. It made the Protestants hopeful for the time, but no good came to them from it
Soon after, the Duke of Guise marched against the army of German Protestants, and fought a great battle against them, in which they were completely beaten and so much discouraged that those of them who were left alive went away home at once. The people of the country rose up against them as they passed, and put to death any who strayed away from the main body. The French Protestants were thus left with no hope except in the courage of their leader, and in the dislike which they knew the king had for the Duke of Guise. Guise's friends admired him more than ever after his victory over the Germans, and it was always in his mind that perhaps some day he might manage to make himself king instead of Henry III., whom everybody despised. Even if he were not really king, he had hopes of being able to take for himself all the real power in the country, and while he was called constable or admiral, or was supposed merely to hold some other great office, to be able to make King Henry do whatever he wished. He had made a treaty with the King of Spain, who promised help, but did not give him much, being very busy about his own affairs.
Guise resolved to go to Paris and see how the people would receive him. He told his friends of his plan, but it was not known by the king or the queen's mother Catherine, who was still alive, or by the common people in Paris. He arrived with very few followers, and at first rode through the street with his face hidden in his cloak, so that no one knew him, but at last one of his friends pulled off his hat as if in joke, and told him it was time to show himself. He was then known at once, and all the people came rushing into the streets to look at him. They treated him as a hero, a conqueror, almost as a saint; they pressed round to touch him, they tried to kiss his cloak; ladies threw down flowers upon him from high windows, and cries of "Long live Guise !" rolled from street to street. The duke went to the house of old Queen Catherine, and she took him to see the king. Henry was not at all delighted at the way in which Guise had been received, and had serious thoughts of having him murdered when he came to the palace; but was persuaded by his ministers not to do what would have been both so wrong and so foolish.
The next day the king brought some troops into Paris, at which all the citizens rose up in defence of Guise, and built what they called barricades across the streets. These were made by stretching chains across a street and piling up behind them barrels, sand, paving-stones, and whatever would make a firm wall. Behind each barricade stood men ready with muskets, others at the windows of the houses were also armed, ready to fire into the streets. Women were also at the windows armed like the men. This day was called the Day of the Barricades. After all, the town was not attacked, the king went away from Paris, and left the Duke of Guise there in triumph. It is said that when the king left Paris, he swore never to come back there but by a breach, that is, through a hole in the wall (of a town) made in battle.
The king was so weak and uncertain that there did not seem much chance of his ever coming back to his capital. Though he now looked upon the Duke of Guise as his worst enemy, he would not join with the King of Navarre against him; in fact, he did all that Guise wished, being afraid to refuse him anything. The States-General were called together at Blois, the town were the king was staying. No deputies dared to go there who were not members of the League and friends of Guise, and they hoped to have everything their own way, and make the king agree to whatever they liked. They made him agree to so much, that at last he could bear it no longer, and not having courage or strength to resist the Duke of Guise openly, he resolved to murder him, and so free himself from the man he now hated and feared more than any one else.
Some of his friends, whose help he first asked, refused to commit the murder for him, saying they were not executioners, but others were found at last, who were willing to undertake the business.
The duke had many warnings sent him by his friends, but he took no notice of them. The day before Christmas Day he went as usual to the king's castle, where a council was to be held. A message came asking the duke to go into a private room to speak to the king. As soon as he was in the room, the murderers fell upon him, stabbed him, and in spite of his struggles succeeded in killing him before his brother and some other friends, who from their council chamber heard sounds of what was going on, could come to his help. The brother was also thrown into prison and afterwards put to death.
King Henry came to look at the body of his dead enemy, and was full of pride and pleasure at his success. He went to tell the news to his mother Catherine, who was ill in bed, and was much surprised to hear of the death of the man who had been almost the most important person in France. She warned Henry to take care that now he had killed the King of Paris, as Guise was called, he did not himself become the king of nothing. Catherine died soon after this, cared for by no one, not even her son, for whom she had done so much, though she had turned even against him at the end of her life.
When Guise was dead, Henry III. did the only thing that could now be of use to him, and made peace with the King of Navarre. Together they were too strong for the party of the League, who now had for their leader a brother of the Duke of Guise. The two kings marched towards Paris, where they believed most of the townspeople would be ready to take their side. Some of the towns of France gave themselves up to the king, others to the Duke of Guise.
But the enemies of the king used the same means against him that he had used against others. Many of the French monks, especially a particular order, called the Jesuits, who had lately become of great importance in France, taught that it might at times be right to do wrong things, that good might come of it; in particular, that it might be a duty to kill bad people. A friar, who had heard this teaching, and who was known to his friends as half mad, had made up his mind to kill the king. He asked advice from a priest, who said the idea was a good one, and encouraged him in it. He walked to the camp of the king, which was outside Paris, at a village (named) St. Cloud, and was allowed to go into his presence with a letter which he pretended he wished to deliver. While the king was reading it the friar went close up to him, saying that he wished to speak to him alone, and suddenly stabbed him with a long knife which he had brought in hidden in his coat sleeve. The king cried out, "Ah ! bad monk, he has killed me;" drew the knife from his own body, and struck the murderer in the face. The courtiers rushed upon him and killed him. It was thought at first that the king's wound was not dangerous; but soon it became worse and worse. Henry III. died that evening, eight months after the murder of the Duke of Guise. Of all the bad kings of France he may be said to have been the worst; he was both wicked and weak, and his reign came at a time when his wickedness and weakness were able to do more mischief in the country than might have come from them at a less disturbed time.
