The massacre of St. Bartholomew

In the following pages I have endeavored to describe the great struggle which devastated France in the latter half of the sixteenth century, and culminated in the memorable tragedy of St. Bartholomew’s Day. The nature of that struggle can not be fairly understood, unless the condition of the Protestants under Francis I. and his two immediate successors be taken into consideration. In those fiery times of trial the Huguenot character was formed, and the nation gradually separated into two parties, so fanatically hostile, that the extermination of the weaker seemed the only possible means of re-establishing the unity of France.

The three preliminary chapters necessarily contain many notices of the cruel persecutions which the Reformers had to suffer at the hands of the dominant Church; but the author would be much grieved were it supposed that he had written those chapters with any desire to rekindle the dying embers of religious strife. On that portion of his work he dwells with pain and regret; but such pages of history contain warnings that it may be well to repeat from time to time. Though there may be little danger of our drifting back to the atrocities of the sixteenth century, and though we no longer burn men, mob-law and other forms of terrorism are still employed to stifle free discussion, and check individual liberty. From this to the prison, the rack, and the stake, the step is not so wide as it appears. Moreover, it is good to revive occasionally the memory of those who have “served God in the fire,” for the instruction of their descendants, who have the good fortune to live in times when they can “honor God in the sunshine.” Such examples of patience and firmness under torture, of self-devotion, of child-like reliance on the spiritual promises of their Divine Master, of obedience to conscience, and of faithfulness to duty, are fruitful for all ages. They serve to show not only that persecution is a mistake, but that the final victory is not with the successful persecutor. Man’s real strength consists in prudence and foresight—qualities which belong but to few; and if this small intelligent class (and such the early Reformers were, even by the confession of their enemies) be driven out or exterminated, the ignorant masses are lost. Spain and Italy have never recovered from the self-inflicted wounds of the sixteenth century; and if France has suffered in a less degree, it is because persecution did not so completely succeed in destroying freedom of thought and liberty of conscience.

The author has tried to write impartially: he has weighed conflicting evidence carefully, and has never willingly allowed prejudices to direct his judgment. That he has succeeded in holding the balance even, is more than he can venture to hope; but in such a cause there is consolation even in failure. If he has not painted the unscrupulous Catherine de Medicis and the half-insane Charles in such dark colors as preceding writers, he has carefully abstained from whitewashing them. He has shown that they both possessed many estimable qualities, and has carefully marked the steps by which they attained such an eminence in evil.[1]

In the earlier pages of this history the followers of the new creed in France are called indifferently Protestants or Huguenots. The use of the former word is not strictly correct; but it is preferable to the awkward term “Reformed,” by which the French Dissenters designate themselves. By their enemies they were usually denominated Calvinists—a term which I have generally avoided on account of the erroneous ideas connected with it among ordinary readers. In the present day it is seldom used without a sneer. With all the complacency of ignorance, men write of “grim Calvinists who justify the burning of Servetus.” Calvinists, grim or otherwise, do not justify persecution; and as regards Servetus, his execution was approved of by all the Protestant divines of Germany and Switzerland, and Calvin was perhaps the only man who tried to save the arch-heretic’s life. Whatever may have been the errors of the Reformer of Geneva, he was one of the greatest men of his day, and as an author he stands in the first rank of early French prose-writers. Englishmen who owe so many of their liberties to the influence of his opinions during the counter-reformation of the seventeenth century, should be the last people to look unkindly upon his failings.

Respecting the Massacre of St. Bartholomew, there are two theories. Some writers contend that it was the result of a long premeditated plot, and this view was so ably maintained by John Allen in the Edinburgh Review (vol. xliv. 1826), that nothing farther was left to be said on the subject. Others are of opinion that it was the accidental result of a momentary spasm of mingled terror and fanaticism caused by the unsuccessful attempt to murder Coligny. This theory has been supported by Ranke in a review of Capefigue’s “Histoire de la Réforme,” printed in the second volume of his “Historisch-politische Zeitschrift” (1836), and in the first volume of his “Französische Geschichte;” by Soldan in his “Frankreich und die Bartholomäus-Nacht;” by Baum in his “Leben Beza’s;” and by Coquerel in the “Revue Théologique” in 1859. Since they wrote, many new materials tending to confirm their views have come to light, some of which are for the first time noticed in this volume.

Foremost in value among the materials for this portion of the French history are the extracts from the “Simancas Archives,” published by M. Gachard in the “Correspondance de Philippe II.” The letters of Catherine de Medicis (as published by Alberi) throw a new light upon some of the obscurer parts of the reign of Charles IX.; and though it would be unwise to trust them implicitly, I can scarcely imagine a more valuable contribution to French history than a complete collection of her correspondence. Her letters are scattered all over France: a few have been printed in local histories, but far the greater part of them (including those in the collection of Mr. Murray of Albemarle Street) remain almost unknown. Much curious information has been gleaned from the “Relazioni” of the Venetian embassadors, edited by Alberi, or in the more accessible volumes of Tommaseo and Baschet. I need not point out the value of the documents contained in the correspondence of Aubespine, La Mothe-Fénelon, Cardinal Granvelle, and in the “Archives de la Maison d’Orange-Nassau,” published by Groen van Prinsterer. The letters of the English agents in France, so singularly neglected by many writers, help to explain several of the incidents of the Tumult of Amboise and the proposed war in Flanders in 1572. The omission from Walsingham’s correspondence of all account of the Massacre is much to be lamented. Though I have sought for it in vain, I still entertain a hope that it may some day be recovered. In the Record Office there is a curious report by the famous Kirkaldy of Grange, of which Mr. Froude has already made use in his last volume. Two other remarkable contemporary letters—one in Spanish, the other in German—are noticed in their proper place.

Either personally or through the help of kind friends the author has searched far and wide among the provincial records of France. The sources of the information thus acquired have been carefully indicated in the notes, and the result has often been to discredit the statements of the older writers, carelessly copied by their successors. Two remarkable instances connected with Toulouse and Lyons will be observed in the course of the history. The Médicis MSS. at Le Puy, the manuscripts in the public library at Rouen, the letters of Charles IX. at Tours, the Acts Consulaires of Lyons, the Consular and Parliament Registers of Toulouse, the Registers of Caen, the Livre du Roi at Dijon, the Municipal Archives and Baptismal Registers at Provins, the Comptes Consulaires at Gap, have contributed to enrich this volume on several important matters. The public records of Montpelier, Nismes, Grenoble, Clermont-Ferrand, Bayeux, and other places, as well as the unpublished Memoirs of Jacques Gaches, and the MS. of President Latomy, which differs considerably from the printed text, have also furnished their contingent of information. Much curious and interesting matter has been found in Haag’s “France Protestante,” and in the “Bulletin de la Société de l’Histoire du Protestantisme François.”

The reader will find very little in this volume about the internal development of the Reformed Church; for such information he must look to theological histories and to writers who have made theology their study. Laymen who venture into that field rarely escape the imputation of ignorance or heterodoxy.