The Press. — London, England, 1853-11-05 00:00:00

Xiittaturt. Civil Wars and Monarchy in France in the Six teenth and Serenteenth Centuries. By Leopold Ranke. Translated by M. A. Garvey. Lon don : Bentley. Taa period embraced in this history extends from the rise of Calvinism, in the reign of Francis 1., to the termination of the wars of Henry IV. with the great Catholic League. M. Ranke could not have chosen a more in teresting theme. The progress of the Refor mation in France was marked by a series of striking events, and it is identified with some of the most remarkable characters of modern history. But M. Ranke does nut profess, in the volumes before us, to give a full and con nested narrative of the religious wars in France : ho deals only with the most promi cent incidents and characters of the time His work thus assumes inure the character of a commentary than of a history ; and, though it is not upon this account less valuable in a literary point of view, its attractions for the general reader are thereby much diminished. Upon the introductory part of the work, which contains an elaborate sketch of French history from the days of Julius Caesar to those of Francis 1., much research and learning have been expended. But, to our apprehen sion, this is the least successful portion of the book. Few have excelled in this species of composition ; and we may assert, without the smallest disparagement to M. Bunke, that he displays in this historical summary neither the classic eloquence of Robertson nor the com prehensive genius of Hume. Ho does not, in short, contrive to interest us until the religious strife commences. But we follow the course of events with unabated attention from the first appearance of Calvin on the scene till the triumphant entry of Henry IV. into Paris in 1594. We watch the dawning of the Refor mation and its silent but steady progress under the tolerant rule of Francis I. - We per ceive its doctrines subsequently embraced by the princes of Navarre, and, as a necessary result, the deadly rivalry between them and the aspiring house of Guise. We finally see great armies taking the field on either side and contending with a gallantry which has never been surpassed. For ten long years we watch the progress of the contest wail, amid the historic names which crowd before us, our attention is rivetted upon two. These are Catherine do Medici and Gaspard de Coligny. Of the character of Catherine, M. Hawke takes a more lenient view than will prove agreeable to many of his Protestant modem He does not, indeed, attempt to deny her no torious perfidy and her frightful indifference to human life; but he attributes these, in a great measure, to her early experiences and to the perilous position which she occupied in France. Her earliest recollections, he tells us, carried her back to the fierce factions of her native city, where, as a child, her life was frequently exposed to danger. Her subse quent marriage with a son of Francis 1. ap peared to open to her a new and brilliant career; but. like all ambitious alliances, it had its attendant sorrows. She was a foreigner in the eyes of the people, anti a parrenu in those of many of the nobles, who deemed the des cendant of a Florentine merchant no fit mate for the son of their king. Add to this that her husband—afterwards Henry Il.—was de voted to an arrogant and caprieions mistress, the famous Diana of Poictiers ; and Catherine was so long without children that a divorce was seriously contemplated. She bore all without a murmur, and even expressed her willingness to return to Florence or to retire to a convent. The chivalrous heart of Francis was touched by this signal proof of re...igna. thin and obedience , and he declared that his daughter-in-law should not leave her adopted country. She remained, accordingly. and not only became Queen of France, but saw three of her sons in succession mount the throne. These, her descendants, however. brought neither glory nor happiness to France. Her eldest son, the boy-husband of Mary Stuart. died iu his eighteenth year : her second, the unfortunate Charles IX., is execrated by pot- THE PRESS. terity as the responsible author of the mas sacre of St. Bartholomew ; and Henry 111. fell by the hands of an assassin. A strange fatality seemed to attend the children of the most ambitious princess of the age. It was not until her second son ascended the throne that Catherine de Medici showed her self to the world in her true colours. During the lifetime other husband, Diana of Poictiers, though some twenty years older than her royal lover, retained her influence to the last. Even as Queen Mother during the short reign of Francis 11., she exercised no true authority, for that was monopolised by the house of Guise. But during the remainder of her life, a period of thirty years, her innate thirst of power, which the humiliations of her youth had only served to stimulate, was gratified to the utter most. Her early experiences had at once sharpened her intellect and deadened her moral susceptibilities. It is well known that the " Prince " of Machiavelli was the favour ite study of her maturer years. It had been dedicated by her renowned countryman to her father, Lorenzo de Medici, though with what motive it is still an unsolved problem. Catherine, at all events, put the most literal interprets tion upon this celebrated book. for no sovereign ever more systematically practised the detesta ble precepts which it contains. The character of this princess is summed up by M. Ranke in the following terms : So one trusted her, and she confided in no one. Many a man, says a Venetian, might well have forgotten the art of fencing if placed in her position, where Mends and enemies were no longer distinguishable from one another — where she was obliged to ask counsel of persons whom at the time she was well aware were concealing their real opinions front her. In her own chamber she was trans ported with auger and grief; when the hour of audience arrived she dried her tears, and appeared with a pleasant countenance. Her maxim was to cause every one to depart from her presence contented ; but whilst she appeared to give a definite answer it was immediately observed that she bad not pronounced her final decision, and whilst that was ex pected the conversation was suddenly changed to some other topic. Many of her written Ulan uctions still remain, referring to foreign affairs, which had, however, the closest connection with those of the iuterior of the kingdom. They exhibit a strong conception of the general aspect of things, subtlety of comprehens►on, and a s►ngular energy of ex pression, and possess a peculiar naïveté in the recommen dation of secret means and courses. Catherine threw into the contest, in which the history of the world was to receive a new aspect, all that fearful pre. Bence of mind and inexhaustible veniality of a female i n • tellect which sees its own interests alone in all it content. plates. Her ambition reseed for maternal duty and solici• tide : her pride was simply self-defence. She said if she had not constantly borne the burden of government upon her head she would still have ever drawn it after her; the meaning of which seems to be that she would never have allowed it to go altogether out of her hands. The attain ment of this object occupied all her attention ; she had none to bestow upon the means by which it was obtained. Moral precepts she did not respect, but she found no plea sure in vice. Human life had no value in her eyes. She professed Italian morality—the morality of her house — which looked upon all means as lawful by which power was attained or• preserved. During the first years of the civil war Cathe rine was perplexed by the success of her own adherents. She rejoiced, indeed, at the fre quent defeats sustained by the Huguenots, but, on the other hand. she dreaded the growing arrogance of the house of Guise, which sought to turn each triumph of the Catholic arms to its own individual advantage. Her policy was to allow neither party to gain the ascendant, and hence to counterbalance the ambition of the Guises she determined to marry one of her daughters to a Protestant prince—Henry of Navarre. The occasion of this marriage brought a number of the leading Huguenot fit milieu to Paris, and, still pursuing her double policy, she resolved upon their extermination. By thus curbing the ambition of the Guises, and crushing at the same time her Protestant enemies, she sought to consolidate her power Coliguy, the acknowledged lender of Protest antism in France, and at the time the most conspicuous man iu Europe, had acquired his vast reputation less from his talents or achieve ments in peace or war than from the confi dence inspired by his personal character He was often defeated in the open field t says M. Henkel. but his nature was of that deep and persistent character whose masculine vigour increases with misfortune. eoligtiv. like William I 11. and Washington, in after tiniest. showed himself stronger than ever after he had su&red a defeat. His authority was not founded upon the enthusiasm which triumphs awaken, but upon the pro found feeling that he was indispensable to his party. These remarks are no less striking than just : and we need not be surprised that the Queen SATtraDAT, Mother should seek to rid herself of so formid able an a iversary. He had repaired to Paris to attend the marriage of her daughter, and had been received both by Catherine and her son with every demonstration of esteem. Coligny received more than one warning o f the intended plot, but he refused to believe in the perfidy of his young sovereign. Catherine's chief confidant and colleague in planning the massacre of the Protestants was the Duke of Guise, the man whom, next to Coligny, she regarded as her most dangerous enemy. The selection of such an instrument accorded well with the maxims of her favourite author ; and thus she deliberately arranged the prepara tions for her daughter's wedding. and for the wholesale murder of the Huguenots in Paris. On the lath of August, 1572, the marriage ceremony was performed, in the presence of the must brilliant court in Europe, and of the chief families of the great rival factions. Paris still remained tranquil, but four days afterwards an attempt was made on the life of Coligny by a retainer of the Guises The young King, Charles IX., who was still kept in ignorance of the plot, expressed the utmost indignation, and declared he would punish the assassin at all hazards. He even visited the wounded Huguenot chief, assuring him of his sympathy and regard, and that he might rely upon him fur protection. On the follow ing day the unhappy prince learned that his mother had been the instigator of the deed, and his consent to the plan of the intended massacre was demanded, both by Catherine and her younger son, the Duke of Anjou. No one else was present at this momentous inter view, but, in spite of all the artifices of Catherine, the King for a long time peremp torily refused his consent to the nefarious scheme. Tears, entreaties, threats, all failed to move him ; but on her taunting him with cowardice—an imputation wholly groundless —he at length gave way, and the necessary instructions were immediately transmitted to the different quarters of the city. Even after he had gone thus far, the young King, who had many intimate associates among the Huguenot nobles, attempted to countermand the fatal orders. But the terrible sagacity of Catherine had led her to anticipate the movements of her sun. She had witnessed his reluctance to sanction her long-cherished scheme ; and, dreading the effects of his irresolution, she caused the signal for the bloody drama to be given two hours before the preconcerted time. We shall not attempt to paint its horrors. Suffice it to say, that in Paris, on the most moderate computation, two thousand persons were put to death in cold blood. Throughout France the number of victims was not less, according to M. llanke, than twenty thousand. The conduct of Charles IX. throughout the whole of this dark history inspires us with pity rather than aversion. He was in truth a mere tool in the remorseless hands of the Queen Mother, and his struggles to escape the task imposed upon him entitle him at least to sympathy. Nor eau we lose sight of the penalty which outraged humanity exacted from the unhappy monarch, as the price of his weak submission to a vindictive woman. History contains no sterner lesson than the picture of remorse exhibited by Charles after the pre meditated slaughter of his Protestant subjects. Ile would leave his bed in the middle of the night, alleging that the air was still tilled with the same dismal sounds which he had heard on the night of the massacre. His health, which was never strong, suffered in conse quence of these irregularities, and his death, which took place within two years afterwards, is generally supposed to have been hastened by the ever present recollection of those hideous scenes of which he had been the un willing though responsible author. In Catherine. from first to last, we look in vain for any " compunctious visitings of na ture," or even for one trace of genuine emotion. At the very time when thousands of mutilated corpses encumbered the streets of Paris, her gay and profligate court was even more gay and profligate than ever. We are even assured. on undoubted authority, that on the morning of the massacre her ladies perambulated the passages of the Louvre, and indulged in bar barous merriment over the bodies of the mur.