Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589 (Studies Presented to the International Commission for the History of Representative and Parliamentar)

PRINCES, POLITICS AND RELIGION 1547- 1589

This page intentionally left blank

PRINCES, POLITICS AND RELIGION 1547- 1589

N.M. SUTHERLAND

THEHAMBLEDON PRESS

The Hambledon Press 1984 35 Gloucester Avenue, London NW1 7AX

History Series 30 ISBN 0 907628 44 3 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Sutherland, N.M. Princes, politics and religion, 1547-1589. - (History series; 30) 1. Europe - History - 1517-1648 I. Title II. Series 940. 2'32 D220

©N. M. Sutherland 1984

Printed in Great Britain by Robert Hartnoll Ltd., Bodmin, Cornwall

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements Preface

vii ix

1

Introduction

2

Was there an Inquisition in Reformation France?

13

3

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

31

4

Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre and the French Crisis of Authority, 1559-1562

55

5

The Origins of Queen Elizabeth's Relations with the Huguenots, 1559-1562

73

6

Queen Elizabeth and the Conspiracy of Amboise, March 1560

97

7

The Cardinal of Lorraine and the Colloque of Poissy, 1561: A Reassessment

113

8

The Assassination of François Due de Guise, February 1563

139

9

The Role of Coligny in the French Civil Wars

157

10

The Massacre of St. Bartholomew and the Problem of Spain

173

The Foreign Policy of Queen Elizabeth, the Sea Beggars and the Capture of Brill, 1572

183

12

William of Orange and the Revolt of the Netherlands: A Missing Dimension

207

13

Catherine de Medici: The Legend of the Wicked Italian Queen

237

1

1

Index

1

251

This page intentionally left blank

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The articles collected here, with the exceptions of Chapters 1, 2 and 11 which are new, originally appeared in the following places and are reprinted by kind permission of the original publishers. 3

Historical Association Pamphlet, General Series 62 (1966; Revised Edition 1978).

4

French Government and Society, 1500-1850. Essays in Memory of Alfred Cobban, ed. J.F. Bosher (Athlone Press, London, 1973), 1-18.

5

Proceedings of the Huguenot Society of London, xx, no. 6 (1966 for 1964), 626-48.

6

The English Historical Review, Ixxxi (1966), 474-89.

7

The Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 28 (1977), 265-89.

8

The Historical Journal, 24, 2 (1981), 279-95.

9

Actes du Colloque I'Amiral de Coligny et son Temps, (Societe de THistoire du Protestantisme Franqais, Paris, 1974), 323-38.

12

Archiv fur Reformationsgeschichte, 74 (1983), 201-30.

13

The Sixteenth Century Journal, ix (1978), 45-56.

This page intentionally left blank

PREFACE

Articles in learned periodicals, some of which have only a restricted circulation, are bound to become increasingly obscure and obscured as time passes. In view of the paucity of material on early modern Europe, available in English, it is hoped that this collection may help to meet a need which has often been expressed to me by schoolteachers and by university colleagues. It is also hoped that it may bring to the attention of a wider public a number of interpretations which depart from long received opinion. This applies most particularly to the foreign policy of queen Elizabeth which is seriously distorted by too insular an approach. For reasons of economy, and hence of price, these articles have been reproduced as they were originally printed. In certain cases this has resulted in a degree of overlap which, it was editorially decided, should remain, thereby preserving the separate integrity of each article. For the same reasons, there are editorial differences between them and, in one instance, American spelling.

For PETER HASLER with gratitude for much help over the years

1 INTRODUCTION Each of the articles in this collection explores some facet of the post-Reformation struggles of sixteenth-century Europe, mainly in terms of princes, politics and religion, though naturally there were also other factors at work and other issues at stake. It therefore seems desirable to provide some analysis of the structure of European politics behind these more detailed studies. On the international level, conflict between developing, 'nation' states primarily derived from the fear of foreign control, or domination, which produced a general and supreme pre-occupation with defence. It is therefore necessary to consider the nature of these fears in France, Spain and England, whose triangular struggles dominated the later sixteenth century, the kind of exploitable, domestic problem to which they were all potentially vulnerable, and the impact of protestantism upon existing, traditional power conflicts. The new dimension of heresy came to involve the post-Tridentine Papacy in an active, and even aggressive role in northern European affairs. The main objective of the Papacy in this respect became the overthrow of England, the principal protestant country. However, the pre-occupation of Spain and France, with external defence and internal fragmentation, precluded the formation of an effective catholic league, such as the Papacy earnestly desired. The failure to achieve a united catholic front, threw responsibility for the fortunes of regenerated Catholicism back upon Spain and France independently and, more widely, upon the shoulders of prominent catholics everywhere. This diffusion proved to be a fatal weakness. Protestants fears were not, however, baseless since Philip II, who was already opposing heresy in France and his own rebellious Netherlands, might at any moment yield to catholic pressure to undertake an enterprise of England. The power struggle and the religious conflict became, to a great extent, focused in the Netherlands, the reasons for which are developed in chapter twelve. For the Papacy the Netherlands themselves were only a secondary consideration; they were, however, a primary obstacle to the destruction of protestant England, not least because they engrossed Philip II. Catholic hostility to England appeared to fuse English interests with those of Philip's rebels and heretics, much as it had already forged a link between England and the huguenots — which is shown in chapter five. Elizabeth, however, never wanted war

2

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

with Spain; in spite of the great anti-Spanish war with which the century ended, Philip and Elizabeth, it will finally be shown, were the most reluctant enemies. Neither France, Spain nor England was basically aggressive in the last four decades of the sixteenth century; yet it proved impossible to avoid hostilities. In most instances, their fears of each other were exaggerated; but such is the nature of fear, and it is only with hindsight that this can safely be said. France was afraid of Spanish domination, both externally and internally, arguably from 1559 to 1659. In the sixteenth century Calvinism and the civil wars rendered her extremely vulnerable to intervention, penetration, subversion and, in the 1590s, actual conquest, which was only narrowly averted. Philip II of Spain, widely presumed to have dominated Europe was, in turn, extremely afraid of France. He feared the implications of her traditional hold on England's enemy Scotland, the French dynastic connection with Mary queen of Scots and hence, potentially, French power over England. Conversely he also feared that France might succeed in sinking her enmity with England in a dynastic alliance - such as Spain herself had recently achieved in the reign of Mary Tudor — and, most immediately, he feared French influence upon, and activities in, the Netherlands. So did queen Elizabeth, but not for the same reasons. Indeed England's principal fear, at least until her invasion of the Netherlands in 1585, was of her traditional enemy, France. Like Spain, England also feared the French connection with Scotland and with Mary queen of Scots, which posed a considerable threat to England's domestic peace. Apart from the fear of domination, domestic, factional and foreign conflicts tended to focus on a variety of problems which mainly derived from several closely related weaknesses — to which all principalities were potentially vulnerable. The first and most obvious weakness was the ubiquitous diversity of religion, varying from place to place, but always posing a crisis of authority. This diversity not only gave rise to disobedience and violence, but also to international cross currents. Especially in France, the Netherlands and Scotland it facilitated the disruption, or even anarchy, caused by aggrieved nobility in arms or opposition. France and Scotland were, furthermore, a prey to the danger and dislocations of a regency, whether de jure or de facto, while both England and France encountered the nightmare perils of an uncertain or a disputed succession. If, by contrast, Spain appeared impressively secure and inaccessible, this was more than offset by her extreme vulnerability, domestic and foreign, in the Netherlands - the beloved homeland of Charles V - which poisoned the whole reign of Philip II, and seriously affected the destiny of Spain.

Introduction

3

To what extent the post-Reformation struggles were genuinely ideological, will always remain controversial. But, since no historian can escape from the problem of religion - the most exploitable of all domestic struggles — it seems reasonable to accept that, as well as dynastic accidents, religion did affect the power conflicts which already existed before the Reformation. What then were these conflicts, and what was the impact of religion upon them? One could disperse the smoke of ideology and argue that the remaining conflict was normal and inevitable. By the mid-sixteenth century, the central struggle was that between France and the Hapsburgs. In the division of his empire in 1555-6, Charles V gave to Philip and to Spain both the Netherlands and Milan. Thus the Hapsburg encirclement of France became the Spanish encirclement, thereby crystallizing the issue of the Spanish road, or roads. These were the vital lines of communication between Spain, North Italy and the Burgundian territories, as well as the Tyrol and the Germanic empire. Thus, so long as the Netherlands and Milan were Spanish (in the event, until 1713), there was certain to be recurrent Franco-Spanish conflict, although the focus might shift from time to time, mainly between Italy and the Rhine. England was not secure from the repercussions of this conflict, because Charles V was perfectly aware that his territorial settlement, in favour of Spain, was effectively dependent upon an English alliance; unfortunately he was powerless to guarantee its future. Thus Charles sought to achieve the safety of the Netherlands through the marriage of prince Philip — as he then was — to Mary Tudor in 1554. At the time, Philip might eventually have inherited the entire Hapsburg empire. Consequently his marriage represented the greatest potential threat to France since the election of Charles, already king of Spain, to the imperial throne in 1519. Philip's English marriage may, in addition, be seen as a powerful retort to the recently renewed dynastic link between France and Scotland. Mary queen of Scots had been sent to France in 1548 at the age of six and betrothed to the dauphin, Francis. Her French mother, Mary of Lorraine, remained as the regent of Scotland. The marriage was necessarily delayed until 1558, when Francis became fourteen. Thus, in France and Scotland, respectively, the two Marys posed a nutcracker threat to England. It might, therefore, be argued that Mary Tudor's Hapsburg marriage was advantageous. It could, however, more cogently be argued that, caught up between France and Spain, England had become both the pawn and the prize. Neither great power could safely allow the other to absorb or to dominate England. The early death of Mary Tudor in 1558 modified this pattern in

4

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

favour of France, on account of Mary Stuart's catholic claim to the throne of England. Mary's death, and the accession of protestant Elizabeth, terminated the Anglo-Spanish dynastic alliance and distorted, if it did not destroy, the affiliation between the Netherlands and England which Charles V had perceived to be necessary. This alteration also rendered Philip vulnerable in the Low Countries, and exposed England to serious economic and commercial dangers and difficulties. Furthermore, in 1558 the French claim through Mary - the queen dolphin as they called her — to the crown matrimonial of England, surely guaranteed a resumption of Franco-Spanish conflict, in spite of the impending treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, which ended the current series of wars. The structure of politics, and the political probabilities were again substantially changed by the premature death of Henry II in July 1559, immediately after the treaty. Spain became incontestably the strongest power in Europe. The marriage at that time of Henry's daughter, Elisabeth de Valois, to Philip II at least temporarily increased the ascendancy of Spain over France (Elisabeth died in 1568), and rendered them both alarming to England. Fears were graphically expressed that England might then become a northern Piedmont or Milan. In these circumstances, the new independence of Elizabethan England became inseparable from her renewed protestantism; religion distanced her from both great catholic monarchies. Thus it was from this plight of pawn in the European power struggle that queen Elizabeth had to rescue England. It follows that Elizabeth's essential mission was the defence of England while, throughout her reign, she was beset by great dangers. It was therefore the accession of queen Elizabeth, together with the protestantism of England, which brought about that perplexing, triangular tension, which characterised European politics in the later sixteenth century. Up to the accession of Elizabeth, at least, all this had little or nothing to do with religion. There would have been conflict, as there always had been. But, without the new dimension of religion, it could not have taken its historic form. Religion, in the first place, greatly modified the dynastic and territorial Franco-Hapsburg rivalry. As the two great catholic powers, the interests of France and Spain agreed, in that respect, while their mutual enmity and fears remained. Following the death of Henry II, religion promoted the polarisation of internationally powerful factions within France. Thus it was primarily religion which gave the struggles of the later sixteenth century their characteristic factional, and hence fragmented quality, which needs to be examined in a little more detail.

Introduction

5

Civil war, with a marked religious content, had already come to the Germanic empire, and was shortly to occur in France and the Spanish Netherlands. There was also revolution, followed by spasmodic hostilities, in Scotland. All these domestic tumults were of crucial concern to foreign neighbours, including England, which alone escaped with a rebellion (the rising of the northern earls in 1569) and a series of conspiracies. Might not the nobility in France, the Netherlands and Scotland have achieved a similar fragmentation, unassisted by religious issues? Possibly they could have; and certainly the religious element gradually diminished. Nevertheless, the nobles did generally become involved behind religious banners in at least quasi-religious conflicts, whose outcome depended upon a confessional following. Religion, furthermore, affected everyone, from the altruist martyr to the cynic, or realist, who adopted the religion appropriate to his side or to his aspirations. The political fragmentation of Germany was both augmented and crystallized by diversity of religion. However, most Lutheran princes were mainly concerned to preserve the religious peace of Augsburg of 1555, which afforded an uneasy truce. Thus, German participation in the European conflicts of the later sixteenth century was largely confined to the Calvinist Palatinate and a few minor supporters. To protestant Germany, a catholic threat was more theoretical than immediate — at least while the emperor held aloof, reserving his combative strength for the Turk. France is perhaps the prime example of fragmentation not, in the event, territorially, but in the sense of factions which were nominally confessional. Chapters one to nine all, in their different ways, relate to this fragmentation of France, together with its wider effects on European affairs. Faction is the reason why French sixteenth-century history is so confused, and why her foreign relations have been so poorly understood. After 1559, one cannot rightly speak of the policy of France: one must distinguish carefully between royal policy — which was not always identical to that of the queen mother, Catherine de Medici (until her death in 1589) — and the separate catholic and huguenot interests. The interests of the catholic crown never corresponded to those of the catholic faction led by the Guise family. Indeed, in many respects, the crown had more in common with the huguenots who, after January 1562, were repeatedly beholden to the crown for varying degrees of religious toleration. This complexity in France goes far towards explaining why the foreign policy of queen Elizabeth has generally been regarded as utterly bewildering. In terms of the movement of French factions, as she perceived them, her policy

6

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

was perfectly consistent; nor did she make any secret of it. Whoever opposed the catholic Guises would, in some wise, receive her support. Ultimately, this led to a short-term deviation in the underlying Anglo-French hostility when, after 1589, Henry IV reimposed on France a royal and national policy and destroyed the Guisard Catholic League. In his reign, England and France, together with the newly-formed United Provinces of the Netherlands, finally and effectively allied against Spain; that was the materialisation of Philip II's lifelong nightmare. This was the nearest that Europe ever came to the protestant league which certain protestants had wanted all along. The Netherlands were fragmented in every respect, not only territorially but also by factions at different levels from the high nobility to the municipalities. In the 1560s the grievances of the nobility came to focus on religious issues, and religion went far towards accounting for the civil war which complicated the Dutch revolt against Spain. Religion as well as authority also became the sticking point upon which mediation and peace negotiations repeatedly foundered. The revolt was to end, not with the establishment of a fatherland, but in the secession of seven Calvinist-controlled provinces from the catholics of the south. Thus, over a long period of forty years or more, religion was steadily injected into existing conflicts, and its role was both to polarise and to fragment. It was about 1566, with the pontificate of Pius V and the outbreak of iconoclasm in the Netherlands, that religion also brought the Papacy into an aggressive role in northern European affairs. This placed new pressures on princes, who were primarily concerned, as they had to be, with their own, vital, national interests. Neither England nor Scotland had been represented at the council of Trent, and it was clear by the end of the council in 1563 (the date of the thirty-nine articles) that England was definitively protestant - though her unique, Anglican brand was never comprehensible on the continent. The idea of catholic action and reaction is inherent in that of an ideological struggle. Nevertheless, historians are still prone to reject the proposition that there was in the sixteenth century a positive, catholic movement or crusade, with dismissive expressions like bias, court gossip or exaggeration. Yet it is doubtful if anyone would seriously challenge the reality, however varied and amorphous, of the Counter Reformation. There certainly was a generalised catholic movement, in the sense of a widespread hope and intention that Catholicism should be restored, and should prevail. These aspirations were backed by the Holy Office with various types of Inquisition in different countries - and they generated a variety of anti-protestant activities and enterprises. When,

Introduction

7

shortly after the conclusion of the council of Trent, it was the inquisitor general who became the pope, there surely could be no dispute or misunderstanding about his attitude to heresy; nor was the policy of his successor, Gregory XIII, perceptibly different. It is in no way surprising that the principal thrust behind the catholic movement should have come from Rome, which provided the only element of catholic unity and continuity. The Papal attitude to the problem of heresy was from the start wholly destructive. In the original case of Germany, successive popes (with the exception of Adrian VI), had not been unwilling to see Charles V ruined by a problem whose resolution might greatly have augmented his power. If taken in time, certain humanistic measures of reform could, possibly, have stemmed the tide, or altered the course of events. The Papacy, like Charles himself, was also forcibly preoccupied by the Turks, posing an immediate threat to the Papal states, whereas the problem of heresy was diffused. The Papacy did not however, for that reason, neglect the existence of heresy in the north and west. Paul IV, albeit a bellicose Neapolitan who wanted the Spanish out of Naples, had actually laboured considerably to end the Franco-Hapsburg wars. He did so in the hope of uniting the catholic powers of France and Spain against the heretics everywhere. This, if improbable, was certainly spoken of, and succeeded at least in creating alarm. Such a sentiment was indeed formally incorporated into the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis in 1559, though we may reasonably assume that bankruptcy on both sides was a more compelling argument. That France and Spain should unite against heretics everywhere, made some degree of sense under Paul IV, who died in 1559. But under his successors it became political naivety of the first order. Evidence relating to the Papal efforts, and failure, to bring about a catholic league in the 1560s and the acceptance of the decrees of Trent, is discussed in chapter eleven. Gradually, however, the civil wars in France, and the development of trouble in the Netherlands rendered Franco-Spanish co-operation impossible, at least on the national level. Thus, while these ubiquitous catholic forces appeared extremely alarming, they too were fragmented, and undeniably weakened by their lack of cohesion and leadership. Henry II had been, perhaps, the most promising executor of catholic policy, for whom sentiment and self-interest had coincided remarkably well. He had begun a war of extermination in France, and notoriously quartered the arms of protestant England with those of France and Scotland. But for his early death Henry II might have done more for the catholic cause than Spain's 'most catholic majesty' was

8

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

ever to achieve. Philip II obviously supported the catholic aspiration to suppress all heretics. But it is not usually recognised that, as the principal bulwark of militant Catholicism, he was a considerable disappointment. Philip had inherited his father's catholic mantle without the mystique of the imperial crown, and his own political burdens rendered this pre-eminent catholic role a serious embarrassment. It was all very well for Rome to supply policy and plots, with far too little money. But, for Philip, there could be no religious enterprise which was not also profoundly political, affecting the affairs of his entire empire. Naturally there were many reasons for Philip's aversion from executing Papal policy. One of the less obvious reasons was that he was far more afraid of France than he had any genuine need to be. Philip's servants were less constrained than the king, and often more militantly catholic than he could afford to be. The same was true of queen Elizabeth, in the protestant sense. Probably the most influential and effective of the Spanish catholic militants was the duke of Alva. Alva had fought the Lutherans in Germany for Charles V, and subsequently pursued a militant catholic policy more doggedly than Philip ever did. By the testimony of his own correspondence, Alva was active in France in this respect in 1559, and at the Bayonne meeting in 1565 between the courts of France and Spain. How he proceeded in the Netherlands, from the summer of 1567, is notorious. Don John of Austria, Philip's half-brother, is perhaps a special case; but, as captain-general of the Holy League of 1571, and therefore also a servant of the Papacy, he must rank as a leading catholic. Whether he was really a militant catholic, or merely militant, is not completely clear. Certainly he was glad to serve the Papacy, and the catholic cause, because he dreamed of kingdoms to be conquered, whether in infidel Africa or in protestant England. As a cardinal, and primate of the Netherlands, responsible for at least the episcopal inquisition, Granvelle should also be included. While it is not apparent that he was actually as militant as his enemies supposed, he did belong to the same court faction as Alva, and was therefore seen by the Netherlands nobility as the duke's devotee. Alva's counterpart in France was Lorraine, cardinal legate and inquisitor general, who worked with his brother, the due de Guise, a successful military commander. Thus, the murder of Guise in 1563 somewhat diminished their scope. It was, nevertheless, the Guise family who sustained the catholic movement in France and, to a large extent, against England until, in the 1590s, Henry IV destroyed their League and alliance with Spain.

Introduction

9

There were, furthermore, those who moved in the orbit of Mary queen of Scots, the northern hope of catholics everywhere. On a lowerlevel, there were numerous other militants who created an atmosphere of conflict, albeit in less prominent ways. One could cite the Alva faction in the Spanish court; extremists in the Netherlands' administration, and hostile ambassadors like Chantonnay - Granvelle's brother - in France, or de Quadra who was arrested in England, and De Spes and Mendoza who were both expelled by Elizabeth. There were also agents and agitators, and the fulminating English exiles in the Netherlands, as well as the genuinely devout, and the accomplished Jesuits - officially but not effectively debarred from politics. Such people successfully orchestrated a war of nerves and propaganda, and sustained the impression that Philip was much more menacing as a catholic prince than really was the case. On the other hand, protestant fears were not wholly imaginary since Philip might, at any given moment, yield to such catholic pressure, and especially when his own fears became acute. This was the case in 1569, and in June 1571 Roberto Ridolfi, a secret Papal envoy, succeeded in foisting his Marian plot upon Philip. This was assuredly not because Philip pined to see Mary crowned in England, but because he was wrongly persuaded of Elizabeth's implication in plans devised in France for an enterprise of the Netherlands. Philip was also much alarmed by her marriage negotiations with Henry of Anjou, heir apparent to the throne of France. It was from about 1567, when Alva and his Spanish army arrived in the Netherlands, that the great triangular power struggle and the religious conflict became centred there. Direct evidence of co-operation between Alva in the Netherlands and Lorraine in France, against heretics and the nobility in opposition, is only slight. On the other hand, it is very clear that the huguenots and the Netherlands rebels saw their quarrel as one, directed against common enemies. The degree of confederacy between the huguenots and the Netherlands is one of the very important, but less obvious factors in these struggles, because it cut clean across national politics, and complicated older issues. Under Henry IV the former confederacy matured into French support for the United Provinces, which lasted until, in the seventeenth century, those Provinces became more afraid of France than of Spain. As a hotbed of Calvinist resistance, the Netherlands naturally attracted Papal attention. Nevertheless Gregory XIII was even more concerned to obtain the co-operation of Philip II in a flagging enterprise of England, presumably because Elizabeth had survived the Ridolfi plot. The catholic attitude to the major problem of English

10

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

protestantism in the 1570s was coloured by three main factors: the imprisonment in England of Mary queen of Scots; the excommunication of queen Elizabeth in 1570, and the belief that it was she who sustained the rebels and heretics in the Netherlands. The imprisonment in England of Mary queen of Scots in 1568 provoked her relatives, the Guises, to intrigue in Scotland and to conspire against England. If one hopes to understand Elizabeth's foreign policy, one should not underestimate her fears, both of the Guises and the French, and of the instability of Scotland, however exaggerated such fears may now appear to have been. In these circumstances, the Papal and wider catholic cause became fused with Mary's personal cause, and her claim to the throne of England. The Papacy had first become involved in 1569, in the rising of the northern earls, which was partly a Marian plot. After the subsequent Ridolfi fiasco, intended to murder Elizabeth, crown Mary, and restore England to Rome, a third attempt was projected through Don John of Austria, governor of the Netherlands from November 1576 until his death in October 1578. Chronologically the second, but probably the most important, factor which coloured catholic attitudes to England was the excommunication of queen Elizabeth. This was promulgated in February 1570, at the express request of the northern earls, albeit months too late to help them. Since the excommunication comprised Elizabeth's deposition, it was naturally to that end that the Papacy laboured in the 1570s and 1580s. That also explains why catholics everywhere expected Philip to undertake the enterprise of England — whether it suited him or not, he was the only prince who could. The third factor was the widespread belief that it was Elizabeth who sustained her co-religionists, the rebels in the Netherlands; another reason for expecting Philip to act. But the rebels in the Netherlands were not Elizabeth's co-religionists — or, at any rate, she did not think so — and the assumption that she sustained them, if comprehensible, was mistaken. Many of the English did indeed wish her to do so, but very little help was ever sanctioned by the queen. Nevertheless, Elizabeth's excommunication necessarily rendered her highly vulnerable, and sensitive to developments in the Netherlands. If Philip were ever to rule them as an absolute king of a conquered territory (he was not, of course, king of the Netherlands), England could not expect to survive — or not unless her relations with France appeared close enough to inhibit Spain. Thus it was that from 1575-8, the Papacy worked incessantly to launch an enterprise of England with the necessary co-operation of Spain, while Elizabeth, as the only protestant

Introduction

11

prince of any stature, was desired by protestants everywhere to champion their cause; they were disappointed. The foreign policy of queen Elizabeth did not embrace the cause of religion; nor did she wish to support foreign rebels. However, the treaty of Hampton Court with the huguenots in 1562 (they were not rebels) had doubtless created a wrong impression, and raised unfounded hopes. Elizabeth did not support the huguenots because they were Calvinists. She did so in the hope of recovering Calais (lost to France by Mary in 1558) and because they alone opposed the Guises. The Guises intrigued in Scotland, threatened England, and supported Mary Stuart, an eligible princess, for whom they had in mind Don Carlos, prince of Spain. To the Netherlands, Elizabeth's attitude was negative and pacifist. If only hostilities could be ended, she would neither be involved in war, nor threatened by its outcome. Thus for several years she strove to mediate a peace for which, if necessary, she was quite prepared to sacrifice religion. The traditional conception of Philip and Elizabeth as the great protagonists of rival religions, and hence as the great antagonists, has not yet been seriously dented. This may be partly because contemporaries of both persuasions cast them in those roles. They might, in fact, have understood each other rather well, had they only enjoyed normal diplomatic services, and proper channels of communication. It would probably not be an exaggeration to say that politically they were both more concerned with France than with each other. They were however concerned with each other in the sense that they were both afraid. Philip was not responsible for the excommunication of Elizabeth but, after 1570, catholic pressures built up against her; ultimately they were forced into war by events beyond their control in the Netherlands and France. Possibly the tensions of naval and commercial conflicts would soon have led to open war in any case. Philip was rigidly pinioned by his inherited style of 'most catholic majesty'. Nevertheless a war with England in the fifteen sixties would have been desperate in terms of his debilitating and preoccupying struggle with the Turks. In the seventies it could only have increased his already overwhelming political, financial and military problems in the Netherlands. Elizabeth, for her part, was necessarily bound to reject the role of protestant champion and figurehead. But not all her servants wanted her to do so, and historians can still be scathing about what she easily could or should have done - usually without regard to the current disposition of the Spanish fleet. Of the two things that Elizabeth most wanted to avoid (leaving aside civil war in England), the

12

Introduction

first was the extension of French influence in the Netherlands — she said so repeatedly — and the second was a war with Spain. Elizabeth could not afford to go to war. That France and Spain could not afford it either is irrelevant; their systems were not comparable, and their revenues were raised in different ways. Elizabeth already had sufficient trouble with her Parliaments — over religion, the succession and her marriage. When, in 1585, she could avoid the war no longer, she was much less insecure at home. Neither could Elizabeth afford to risk her own regime, resting upon her royal supremacy 'in all spiritual or ecclesiastical things or causes as temporal'. If she were seen to be the champion and figurehead of protestants in Europe, she could hardly have controlled the radicals who threatened her supremacy at home. Above all, Elizabeth did not wish to provoke Philip into supporting Mary — whom Elizabeth never succeeded in rendering politically harmless. Whether Mary was more dangerous in France, in Scotland or in England, in prison or at liberty, alive or dead, remained debatable. It has already been seen that Elizabeth's unavoidable support of the huguenots — which was in no wise religious — became an embarrassment, and an entanglement from which she was unable to escape. While the huguenots supported Philip's rebels in the Netherlands, Philip supported their enemies, the Guises, in France. The Guises, in turn, kept irons in the Scottish fire, and threatened Elizabeth, to whom Mary's presence was a constant danger. On the ideological level-, Philip was bound to subscribe to the enterprise of England and the deposition of Elizabeth. Nevertheless, events surely establish his reluctance to oppose her openly: he did not, as it happened, move against her until she herself had invaded the Netherlands in 1585. After the despatch of Elizabeth's favourite, the earl of Leicester, open war was bound to follow — in the Netherlands, in France and at sea.

2 WAS THERE AN INQUISITION IN REFORMATION FRANCE? To an early modernist, concerned with the persecution of protestantism in the sixteenth century, it is far from clear whether there was, or was not, and Inquisition in France before the civil wars. Frequent references to the matter lead one to suppose the existence of some residual Inquisition, but no substantial or coherent material lies to hand. This paper lays no claim to being an exhaustive enquiry — which would almost certainly yield a collection of fragments. It is rather an essay in correlation.1 To the basic question, was there or was there not an Inquisition in sixteenth-century France, the short answer must be yes; it would not, however, be unassailable. The existence of the Inquisition has been illustrated for Languedoc by Raymond A. Mentzer in his doctoral thesis: 'Heresy Proceedings in Languedoc, 1500-1560'.2 In other parts of France, the subject remains fragmented and obscure. What, then, was the nature of this sixteenth-century Inquisition, and to what extent was it traditional? Why, furthermore, if the medieval Inquisition did still exist, do we find that, from about 1555, Henry II strove to reintroduce an Inquisition into France? Was the same terminology being used in different senses? The unavoidably confused nature of this subject is quickly apparent. Should we say the Inquisition, or an Inquisition, and how can it be defined? Are we dealing with a function, an institution or a procedure? It was, above all, a function: the seeking out, enquiring into, and extirpation of Christian heresy. In some instances, it also crystallized into an institution. As such, it was an extraordinary tribunal, or series of tribunals, which disposed of heresy cases and no other matters. But, in theory at least, the Inquisition was never an institution which functioned in isolation, either from the ordinary, episcopal jurisdiction, or from the strong arm of the secular authorities. 1 In my book, The Huguenot Struggle for Recognition (New Haven, London, 1980), 12, I wrote: 'the development of the persecution in France ought, properly, to be studied against the background of the residual Inquisition,' which would then have led me too far from my subject. In some respects, this paper modifies chapters one and two. 2 The University of Wisconsin, 1973.

14

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

The Inquisition also came to be a procedure, which derived from Roman and canon law, and was later adopted as the criminal procedure of the parlements of France, and of other countries in which the medieval Inquisition operated.3 Obviously one key to the confused nature of the subject lies in the time span. Nothing could have survived unchanged through three centuries, which witnessed the evolution of the French monarchy and royal government, and consequent changes in the balance of relationships between the crown and the Papacy. Whereas the Inquisition of the thirteenth century was initiated by the Papacy, with willing secular support, that of the sixteenth century was dominated by secular authorities, with a confused response from a now 'Gallican' church, seriously degraded by the crown for reasons of patronage. It has often been stated that the Inquisition was founded in Languedoc in 1233. That is understandable, but misleading. The Inquisition was a Roman inheritance with no precise beginning. It is, however, reasonable to proceed from the late twelfth century, and to describe the Inquisition, which developed gradually, as having been papal and imperial in origin.4 It could hardly have been otherwise since Toulouse, where the Inquisition was most urgent and active, was not yet governed by the King of France.5 This factor of political geography influenced the development of the Inquisition both in Toulouse and in what was then loosely called the north, or France, generally meaning the Dominican Province of France.6 Certain fundamental principles of the Inquisition — episcopal responsibility, detection and informing, and the co-operation of the secular authority — were proclaimed at the Council of Verona in 1184, 3 C. V. Langlois, L'Inquisition d'apres des travaux recents (Paris, 1902), 48-53, 85-6. 4 D. A. Mortier (Rev. pere), Histoire abrege de I'Ordre de Saint-Dominique en France (Tours, 1920), 68. 5 The names Languedoc and Toulouse are confusingly used interchangeably. Philip Augustus held lower Languedoc. In 1226 he acquired the comital powers in the adjacent county of Toulouse, Raymond VII having been excommunicated. The exact timing of these events is variously rendered. Toulouse then consisted of north Albigeois, Rouergue, Venaissin, part of Quercy and the Agenais. In 1249 these territories were inherited by Alphonse of Poitier, brother of Louis IX, in the right of his wife, and passed to the King of France in 1271. Elizabeth M. Hallam, Capetian France 987-1328 (London, 1980), 54-62, 188-9, 254-8; Leon Albert Mirot, Manuel de geographic historique de la France, 2 vols (Paris, ed. 1948,1950), i, 138-9; L. Lalanne, Dictionnaire historique de la France (Paris, 1872), p. 1530. 6 By 1221 the Dominicans had some sixty houses, divided into eight Provinces, each under a Prior Provincial. Toulouse and the southern part of the kingdom of France came under Provence. The Province of France, centred on Paris, comprised the rest of the kingdom, roughly north of an arc from Bayonne through Perigueux and le Puy to Nice, and other areas beyond the frontiers. In 1330 a separate Dominican Province of Toulouse was created.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

15

when pope Lucius IV commanded the establishment of an episcopal Inquisition. At the same time, the emperor Frederick I decreed that 'obstinate' — meaning unrepentant — heretics and recidivists were to be passed to the secular authorities for punishment. The fourth Lateran council of 1215 subsequently placed upon secular powers the duty to exterminate heresy, a requirement which was incorporated into canon law. While the point of this requirement is obvious, it was, nevertheless, the source of that legislative and juridical confusion which makes the subject so hard to clarify. After Lucius IV, Innocent III (1198-1216) and Honorius III (1216-1227) struggled with the serious problem of heresy in Toulouse by means of special legates and monastic inquisitors, seeking also the more powerful help of the neighbouring kings of France.7 Successive kings were, from the start, supporters of the Inquisition. Philip Augustus (Philip II, 1180-1223) accepted the decrees of the Lateran council. Louis VIII, having temporarily acquired the comital rights of the excommunicated count Raymond VII of Toulouse, issued letters patent in 1226 on the punishment of the 'crime' of heresy, and of those who harboured heretics; and he took up arms in Toulouse. Louis IX, while at war with the count, issued the first comprehensive edict on the subject, against the heretics of Languedoc.8 The ordinance incorporated the principles of the Lateran council and the provisions of 1226. Offenders against this ordinance were barred from giving evidence, holding offices, making wills, or receiving inheritances - a considerable loss of civil rights — and their property was confiscated in perpetuity. The ordinance contained rigorous guarantee clauses. In 1229, when the wars were over and Raymond VII was obliged to co-operate, diocesan councils at Narbonne and Toulouse sought to implement the laws.9 The council of Toulouse forbade the reading of the Bible, and devotional works in the vernacular — an early version of censorship. With the co-operation of the emperor, pope Gregory IX (1227-1241) sought to define and unify the ecclesiastical and secular laws against heresy; he issued statutes in 1231 which were circulated to various prelates. The following year, the emperor Frederick II produced 7 L. Tanon, Histoire des Tribunaux de I'Inquisition en France (Paris, 1893), 22-3; H.C. Lea, A History of the Inquisition of the Middle Ages, 3 vols (London, 1906), i, 129, 139; D. A. Mortier, Histoire des Maftres Generaux de I'Ordre des Freres Precheurs, 8 vols (Paris, 1920), i, 192-4. 8 F. A. Isambert, Recueil general des anciennes lois franqaises, 29 vols (Paris, 1829-33), i, 218, fourth Lateran council; 227-8, April 1226; 230, April 1228. 9 Isambert, i, 234; Walter L. Wakefield, Heresy, Crusade and Inquisition in Southern France (London, 1974), 136; Mortier, Histoire des Maftres, 194 & n. 7.

16

Princes, Politics and Religion, 154 7-1589

a savage and comprehensive ordinance against heretics which was incorporated into the five books of decretals promulgated between 1230-4. Thus, at least in theory, these regulations - papal and imperial - obtained everywhere throughout Christendom.10 Since the imperial decree formed the basis of the Inquisition, it is necessary to survey its main provisions. Those who were condemned by the church, and recidivists, were to die at the stake; those who recanted were imprisoned for life; all property was to be confiscated and heirs disinherited; children to the second generation were ineligible for office; all defenders of heretics were to be banished and their property confiscated, and the houses of heretics and their protectors were to be razed. All rulers and magistrates, present and future, were required to swear to exterminate everyone designated by the church as a heretic, upon pain of forfeiture of office. Secular authorities, anywhere, who neglected these duties might be excommunicated by papal inquisitors.11 The successors of Louis IX equally accepted responsibility for the extermination of heresy. Louis X in 1315 explicitly confirmed the constitutions of the emperor Frederick II, and Philip VI, in 1329, confirmed all past heresy laws.12 There were three basic conditions necessary for the successful prosecution of heresy, as Walter L. Wake field has succinctly put it: a body of laws, the assurance of state support, and officials specially commissioned for the purpose.13 In the early thirteenth century no officials were more suitable for the task than the mendicant friars — the friars preachers — (Franciscans as well as Dominicans). Able, educated and mobile, they were free of material ties and local graft, and depended directly on the Papacy.14 In April 1233, Gregory IX issued two bulls, in respect of Languedoc and France, appointing the friars preachers to assist the bishops in the prosecution of heresy. All Dominicans, anywhere, were commissioned to act as inquisitors. Later, the Priors Provincial were instructed to select qualified persons for the task.15 The appointment of the Dominicans as inquisitors has often been described as the institution of a papal, or monastic Inquisition. This Inquisition was, however, neither projected nor founded;16 it evolved. & n. 7. Medieval Culture. Robert le Bougie and the Beginning of the Inquisition in Northern France (ed. New York, 1958), 208. 11 Lea, i,321-2. 12 Isambert, iii, 123-9,15 December 1315; iv, 364, November 1329, mandement. 13 Wakefield, 136. 14 Tanon, 45; Lea, i, 299; Raskins, 207-8. 15 Wakefield, 140; Lea, i, 328-9; Langlois, 38-9; Haskins, 210. 16 This is a much quoted statement of Lea, i, 328; Haskins, 207.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

17

By 1233, therefore, canon and civil laws specified duties and penalties, without machinery or procedures; thus all endeavours were experimental and ad hoc, leading to a variety of practice. In Languedoc, where the need was greatest, the Inquisition took root and gradually became institutionalised at Toulouse and Carcassonne. Extensive records were preserved and, out of experience, a body of practice and customs emerged. Successive popes through Innocent IV — who authorised the use of torture in 1252 - to Alexander IV, Urban IV, and Clement IV, continued to add to the corpus juris canonici on the subject of heresy.17 Besides Toulouse and Carcassonne, Paris also became a centre of the Dominican Inquisition.18 In 1235, Gregory IX appointed Robert le Petit, called le Bougre, inquisitor general for all France, and in 1255 Alexander IV placed the Inquisition for the whole kingdom under the Provincial Prior of Paris. While this did not — in practice — mean that no one else would ever make appointments, it did mean that, thenceforth, a senior Dominican always served as inquisitor general. He would have up to six inquisitors under him, operating wherever need arose. Mortier, historian of the Dominicans, has said that the early history of the Inquisition in France (that is to say outside Languedoc) is difficult to establish. It has never been more than fragmentary, presumably because its activity was only spasmodic and ad hoc.19 Charged with the extirpation of heresy, it was natural that the crown should have taken part in the Inquisition from the earliest times. Robert le Bougre is known to have received futl royal support and protection and, soon after the crown was possessed of Toulouse, the king began to intervene in the troubled affairs of the Inquisition. Its theory was simple but, in practice, the respective role of the bishops, friars inquisitors, and the secular authority could never be precisely or definitively settled. Parallel activities, with or without friction, were frequently to occur, both in the middle ages and still more in the sixteenth century. It was, therefore, equally natural for subjects to turn to the king, and for him, or his immediate servants, to be the arbiters. Thus Philip IV sent a team of enqueteurs, one of whom was Richard 17 Raskins, 208. Hallam, 229-30. 18 The first Dominican houses were established at Toulouse and Paris. Mortier, Histoire abrege, 28-9. 19 Raskins, 219-30, 231, 2434; Mortier, Histoire abrege, 68-70; Mortier, Histoire des Maitres, 358-9, 499; Lea, ii, 119; M. J. C. Douais, Documents pour servir d I'histoire de I'inquisition dans le Languedoc, 2 vols (Paris, 1900), i, pp' xxii-xxv; Hallam, 230, 234' The inquisitor general was, traditionally, the prior himself. However, in the sixteenth century, it may have been the vicaire of the Gallican Congregation; the matter is unclear.

18

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

Leneveu, aparlementaire?® The parlement of Paris, principal arm of the crown, evolved out of the curia regis into a sovereign court while the Inquisition was developing into a southern institution. Space precludes an account of the gradual process by which the parlement came to be 'juge souverain des choses de Peglise ... interprete officiel et gardien de la double puissance des rois dans Tordre spirituel et temporelle'. Given the responsibility of the king to extirpate heresy, it was only to be expected that, as his sovereign court grew in authority, it would come to dominate the Inquisition. It was quite simply the most suitable secular authority to exercise that responsibility, and not least because the parlement was, itself, a quasi ecclesiastical body. It comprised not only the six spiritual peers but, more important, a varying number of conseillers-clercs, as well as laymen learned in canon law. The development of royal justice opened the way for a system of appeals, in ecclesiastical cases the 'appel comme d'abus', which eventually clinched the supremacy of lay over spiritual courts. The parlement did not judge of doctrine but, by intervening in sentencing, punishing and appointments, it both recognised and claimed responsibility in heresy matters. By providing for appeals, it alleviated — at least in theory — one of the harshest features of the Inquisition. By the sixteenth century, appeals from the Inquisition to the parlement were common in Toulouse.21 The monastic Inquisition of the Dominicans gradually became dormant as heresy died out and other problems dominated the later middle ages; but the provisions of 1233 were never rescinded. Thus, in the north, the residual Inquisition of the sixteenth century was only skeletal but, in Languedoc, it survived as a recognisable institution, with its own premises. In both cases it was, however, something of an anachronism in the very different world of the Renaissance and the Reformation. Obviously, then, the authority of the crown and the jurisdiction of the parlements were more extensive and effective than the influence and activity of the Dominicans could possibly be. Nor were the Dominicans any longer the principal arbiters in France of 20 Joseph R. Strayer, The Reign of Philip the Fair (Princeton, 1980), 14, 17, 76, 87, 261 seq. 21 Originally the parlement of Paris covered the whole kingdom. The parlement of Toulouse was founded in 1443 and, by 1553 there were seven provincialparlementSiE. Maugis, Histoire du Parlement de Paris, 2 vols (Paris, 1914), ii, 1; Ferdinand Lot & Robert Fawtier, Histoire des institutions franqaises au moyen age, 2 vols (Paris, 1958), ii, 458; J. H. Shennan, The Parlement of Paris (London, 1968), 58, 82; Felix Aubert, Histoire du Parlement de Paris de Vorigine a Franqois Ier, 1250-1515, 2 vols (Paris, 1894), i, 5; Strayer, 240 seq. Tanon, 550 n. 1; Mentzer, 73.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

19

matters of faith and doctrine, having been superseded by the Sorbonne, founded in 1231, which asserted an influential role in public affairs.22 In the sixteenth century, the control of heresy presented complex new problems. In the first place, the combination of heresy with the invention of printing was revolutionary. Printing provided a far-reaching and incendiary means of propaganda and dissemination. Consequently much of the struggle against heresy related to the multiple problems of censorship, which the friars could never have undertaken. Persecution also centred much less on the genuine 'inquisitio', the precise exposure of private opinions, and more on the control of overt acts and the handling of heretical works. This change reflected the fact that heresy was then a political as well as a religious issue. Its prosecution in France may be closely correlated with both foreign policy and domestic conflicts — in particular the tension between the king and the parlement ?^ The tension between the king and the parlement was never greater than in the sphere of religion, since the parlement had created and steadily defended the principles of Gallican liberties. They had strongly favoured the Pragmatic Sanction of Bourges (1438) and, conversely, unremittingly opposed the largely political Concordat of 1516. In particular, they opposed the restoration of appeals to Rome — which affected them directly — and of annates. They also deprecated the abolition of the principle of elections to benefices. The Concordat was seen by the parlement, albeit largely mistakenly, as the source of those manifest ecclesiastical evils which, they believed, were opening the way for heresy.24 This conflict between the king and the parlement was clearly reflected in their respective attitudes to the prosecution of heresy and the operation of an Inquisition. Altliough the residual Inquisition could no longer function in its medieval form, its familiar presence was 22 In the mid-fourteenth century, the Dominicans had been gravely affected by plague; they were devastated by the hundred years' war, and divided by the papal Schism. In the fifteenth century they became split between the reformed or Observant communities, and the unreformed Conventual houses. Thus, by the sixteenth century there were not only Provinces, but also Congregations of Observants. Until 1514, there were three Provinces in France: Provence, Toulouse and France, plus the Congregation of France, which comprised the Observant houses of Provence and Toulouse. In that year the twenty-five Observant houses of the Province of France, including the Jacobins in Paris, were detached from the Congregation of Holland and formed into the purely French Gallican Congregation, which escaped the authority of the Provincial of France. Mortier, Histoire abrege, 34-9,179-97. 23 See Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle, chaps, i, ii. 24 R. J. Knecht, 'The Concordat of 1516', University of Birmingham HistoricalJournal ix, No. 1 (1963). This article shows that the evils in question did not arise from the Concordat but mostly preceded it.

20

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

evidently taken for granted, and its attitudes and terminology were by no means extinct. One of the most explicit references we have to the residual Inquisition in Francis's reign is the appointment by the Provincial of the Dominicans of Mathieu Ory as one of the Inquisiteurs de la foy. He is said to have been served by six others, operating throughout France. It is interesting to note that Ory's appointment was approved by the king and registered by the parlement.25 Francis I and Henry II actually disposed of a far more powerful Inquisition - in terms of function - than was possible in the thirteenth century. At first it was directed by the parlement upon its own initiative and, after 1530, by the crown through a new series of edicts. Thus, when contemporaries referred, confusingly, to the need to institute the or an Inquisition, they evidently intended the restoration of some form of ecclesiastical direction and control, outside the royal judicial system. To the parlement, such a proposition was obviously inadmissibly retrograde and anti-Gallican. Indeed, as Henry was to discover, it was no longer even possible. When it came to a showdown, the supposedly 'absolute' monarch could not coerce the parlement to implement his will. The first moves against incipient protestantism in France, exemplify the changes discussed, and were inquisitorial in approach and purpose. On 15 April 1521 the Sorbonne denounced the works of Luther, and in June the parlement forbade the publication of religious works without the Faculty's consent.26 Together these measures resurrected the ancient problem of suspects — persons suspected of 'heretical pravity'. It was not, however, until 1525 that the parlement appointed a special commission of two of its own members, and two doctors of theology. These nominees of the parlement were to be designated by the bishop of Paris as his deputies, to prosecute heretics and suspects. This arrangement reflected existing practice in Languedoc, where such commissions of the parlement usually included the inquisitor.27 Part of the new problem, however, was that the parlement of Paris suspected the prelates. Consequently it was concerned about the immunity of the clergy, and the possibility — since the Concordat — of their filing 25 Catalogue des Actes de Franqois I&, 10 vols (Paris, 1887-1908), iii, 208-9, no. 8472, 30 May 1536, letters patent. The details relating to Ory's appointment are disputed, but are not important in this connection. He definitely was a Dominican inquisitor, and attached to the cardinal de Tournon, Ordonnances des rois de France. Regne de Franqois ler, 8 vols. (Paris, 1902-72), viii, 90-1, & n. 1, 15 May 1536; Mortier, Histoire des Maitres, 415-16; Mortier, Histoireabrege, 208; Nathanael Weiss, La Chambre ardente (ed. Geneva, 1970), p. xvii. 26 13 June 1521. Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle ,11. 27 C.-A. Mayer, La Religion de Marot (Travaux d'Humanisme et Renaissance, xxxix) (Geneva, 1960), 141-2;Mentzer, 69-70.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France? 21 appeals to Rome. These fears explain their request to the regent, Louise de Savoie,28 to obtain the papal appointment of commissioners to proceed and inform against immune clergy. They also requested letters patent authorising the parlements to force the bishops to empower their nominees to prosecute heretics. The result was a papal bull of 17 May, confirmed by letters patent of 10 June 1525, authorising the new commission of the parlement (with one substitution) to assist the inquisitor of France, according to the usual procedure specified in heresy cases. This commission was to despatch such cases without respect of persons (immune clergy) within the jurisdiction of the parlement of Paris. The secular authorities were required to give the usual support and assistance. The commissioners had wide discretionary powers, and there were no appeals.29 Thus, if the pope had initiated a monastic Inquisition in the thirteenth century, his successor could reasonably be said to have authorised an inquisition parlementaire in the sixteenth century - at least in the jurisdiction of Paris. In January 1527 Francis I replaced the commission of the parlement — albeit juges delegues of the Papacy — by an episcopal commission, plus three theologians appointed by the University as a body. While there were multiple reasons for this, one of them was to loosen the grip of the parlement over the growing problem of heresy.30 If Francis were not in control of the matter, bis foreign policy could be gravely prejudiced. On the other hand, he was shortly to need the support of the parlement in order to modify the treaty of Madrid. This enabled the president, Guillart, to speak out about the danger of religion, and to put pressure on the king to assemble diocesan councils to tackle the problem of heresy.31 Francis needed money, and he consented. The most important of these councils was held in Paris under the chancellor Antoine Duprat, cardinal legate and archbishop of Sens. Duprat condemned the doctrines of Luther and Zwingli, and published a general decree renewing all the medieval canon law upon which the Inquisition had been founded. He also issued sixteen articles of faith, and forty articles of conduct - probably the first serious attempt, before the council of Trent, to define heresy.32 28 Louise de Savoie, mother of Francis I, was regent during his imprisonment in Madrid, following his capture at the battle of Pavia, 1525. 29 Mayer, 142-9. 30 Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle, 18. 31 24 July 1527, Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle, 19-20. 32 Philip A. Limborch, The Holy Inquisition, (London, 1825), 140-1; G. D. Mansi, Sacrorum Conciliorum, nova et amplissima collectio (Paris, 1902), xxxii, 1157-61,1181-3.

22

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

Royal intervention was only necessary if there was to be a uniform, national system. It was not, however, until 1530, after the peace of Cambrai, that Francis I took action. The edict of 29 December 1530 required the parlements, baillis, senechaux, and other officials of royal justice to assist the juges delegues with armed force, and with prison facilities. These 'juges' in question were, in effect, additional inquisitors appointed by the legate, and we know that four were named for the jurisdiction of the parlement of Paris.33 Thenceforth, all these authorities were to proceed against heretics, in conjunction with the inquisitors - presumably ordinary inquisitors - everywhere. Thus, through a cardinal legate and the crown, the full powers of the church and state were marshalled to undertake a form of Inquisition, not identical to that of the middle ages, but performing the same function. In spite of these provisions, in August 1533 Clement VII issued a bull inviting Francis to extirpate heresy and institute the tribunal of the Inquisition in France. Francis's need of a papal alliance, and the marriage of Henri due d'Orleans to Clement's niece, Catherine de Medici, afforded the Papacy some leverage in France. All the same, it is difficult to see either what the pope envisaged, or what Francis intended when, in December, he forwarded the bull to the parlement for registration. Nothing was altered in consequence, in spite of the king's menacing reference to 'main forte et armee'.34 The spread of Zwinglian influence did, however, disturb the king, and he reacted angrily to the notorious affair of the placards — seditious and ubiquitous bill sticking.35 His consequent edict of January 1535 revived two ancient inquisitorial practices: the imposition of the penalties of heresy itself against those who harboured heretics, and rewards for informing — measures which recalled the edicts of Louis VIII, 1226, and Louis IX, 1228.36 The edict of Coucy, July 1535, not only recalled, but also extended early inquisitorial practice. This edict was the first in the series to refer to the death penalty which, since time immemorial, had been imposed upon obstinate heretics. Now, however, it was extended to the new offence of trafficking in heretical works, and for the propagation of heresy by any means.37 The edict of Coucy throws a flicker of light upon the current inquisitorial practice. It permitted the release and restoration of certain culprits, if they abjured before the bishop or his vicar general and the 33 34 35 36 37

Catalogue, vi, supplement, 240, no. 20120, 29 December 1530, letters patent. Mayer, 150-1,10 December 1533, Francis I to the parlement of Paris. 17 October 1534. Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle, 28-9. Catalogue, iii, 8, no. 7486, 29 January 1535, edict of Paris. Catalogue, iii, 23-4, no. 7559, 23 February 1535; 109, no. 7990,16 July 1535.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

23

inquisiteur de lafoy. Further to the death penalty, another inquisitorial element was revived in 1539, when the parlement was authorised to use torture in certain circumstances. It was, however, already an aspect of criminal procedure.38 The execution for heresy of an inquisitor in Toulouse influenced the king to grant the parlement of Toulouse cognisance of heresy cases in the first instance.39 In June 1539, this authorisation was extended not only to the other parlements, but also to the baillis and senechaux, who might all dispose of such cases, without appeal. This diminished the relative importance of the parlements. Since the parlements would brook no interference with their established right to hear appeals, and the church could not accept the jurisdiction of secular authorities in matters of doctrine, this was an ill-considered edict, and it was not registered. Thenceforth disputed jurisdictions and genuine confusion distracted attention from the main objective. The objections of the parlement were quickly rectified in 1540, when heresy cases from all other courts were to be sent to the chambre criminelle of the parlements for judgement. The edict described heresy as 'lese-majeste, sedition et perturbation de nostre estat et repos public\ a clause which doubtless reflected a growing preoccupation with problems of law and order. This, however, was hardly a new conception: heresy had been described as a crime - if not as treason - in the letters patent of 1226. Nothing was done to placate the prelates until 1543, when the judgement of heresy was attributed to the church, and sedition to the state. But, since heresy itself was sedition, this fumbling distinction proved to be unworkable, and the edict was not published.40 One way out of this impasse might be to employ special tribunals — which is what the Inquisition had originally been. Thus, in 1545, Francis instituted a special chambre in the parlement of Rouen. The parlement, inquisitors and bishops had already co-operated in Normandy for many years.41 When Henry II ascended the throne in 1547, he inherited both the problem of heresy - just when the influence of Calvin was beginning to be felt — and also procedures which were weakened by confusion and conflict. Henry, furthermore, quickly began to suspect the royal judiciary, including the parlement of Paris, while the parlement itself suspected the prelates. In these circumstances, Henry's tendency was to try to increase the relative role of the church in a more active 38 39 40 41

Catalogue, iv, 14, no. 11072, 24 June 1539. Catalogue, iii, 660, no. 10534,16 December 1538. Catalogue, iv, 474, no. 13225, 23 July 1543. A. Floquet, Histoire du Parlement de Normandie, 1 vols (Rouen, 1840), ii, 223 seq.

24

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

persecution. Thus his mounting desire for what he envisaged as an Inquisition5, was evidently connected with an effort to break the control of the parlement over heresy matters. Conversely, it was the parlement itself which resisted and thwarted his will — probably more for Gallican liberties than for doctrinal reasons. The matter ended in a serious breach between king and parlement. From his accession, Henry was under the influence of Charles de Guise, for whom he immediately obtained a cardinal's hat. At the coronation, this cardinal of Lorraine received from Henry an oath which conformed to the imperial decree of 1232, to exterminate 'tous ceux que 1'eglise lui designera comme imbus d'erreurs'.42 It was not, however, very obvious what further action Henry could take, and his first pre-occupations were, in any case, with foreign policy and a rebellion. It would appear that he hoped for more expeditious results by means of a special tribunal on the Rouen model. According to the preamble of the edict of November 1549, the so-called chambre ardente in Paris had been established 'des nostre nouvel avenement5.43 It is doubtful, however, if one should take that too literally, since the registers date only from 2 May 1548. The Paris chambre consisted of ten members, chosen from several parlements, presided over by Pierre Lizet, premier president of Paris. This chambre ardente was to dispose of heresy cases without appeal. Nevertheless, the parlement opposed the chambre, perhaps because they were implacably opposed to all special tribunals. In January 1550, they requested the closure of the chambre ardente, its cases to go to the chambre criminelle, as in 1540. The registers ceased forthwith, although the request is said to have been refused. There is, however, some indication that the chambre de la reine, said to be the same thing, still existed in 1558.44 However this may be, the chambre ardente did nothing to dispel the hostility and confusion which arose from the later edicts of Francis 1. Except that it restored the sovereignty of the parlements in respect of appeals, Henry's edict of November 1549 only increased the practical difficulties by requiring a complex, joint civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction in cases involving both heresy and derivative offences. It is interesting to note that although the appointment of the Inquisitor, Ory, had been confirmed by the parlement in 1536, in 1550 he was not 42 Sutherland, The Huguenot Struggle, 41. 43 E. Haag, La France Protestante, 10 vols (ed. Geneva, 1966), x, 16, 19 November 1549. 44 Maugis, ii, 7, n. 1; 8, & n. 1 & 2; Weiss, p. Ixxi seq. There is some suggestion that the edict of 1549 abolished the chambre ardente, but there is nothing to this effect in the text. Haag, x, 14-17; Mentzer, 71-2; Gaston Zeller, Les Institutions de la France au XVIe siecle (Paris, 1948), 179.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

25

required to report to anyone but the bishops.45 Henry would appear to be excluding the parlement in every way he could. Conflicts of jurisdiction were not, however, the only problem. Henry made no secret of the fact that he regarded the judiciary as suspect.46 This may partly explain his expansion, in January 1551, of the new, royal presidial courts, which were established throughout the country. In the edict of Chateaubriant, 27 June 1551 - described as 'un vrai code de persecution' - the presidiaux received the same powers as the parlements to proceed against disorders arising from heresy cases, and to pass judgement without appeal. The cognisance of simple heresy had been restored to the church (1543, 1549). But as (1540, 1543, 1549) heresy was itself sedition, the confusion remained insurmountable. The edict of Chateaubriant revived three further elements of the medieval inquisition, the pattern that Henry appears to have had in mind: the ineligibility of heretics for certain offices; compulsory informing and rewards, and the active tracking down of heretics — also, in this case, of heretical works. A later Guisard edict of September 1559 added the razing of houses where heretical activities occurred, a stipulation of the imperial decree of 1232.47 It was reported by the nuncio, Santa-Croce, in February 1553, that Henry had decided to establish a special heresy council.4 8 This might have been a conciliar version of the chambre ardente — the council being the only body superior to the parlements. Alternatively, Henry may have been thinking in terms of the Spanish 'suprema', the principal organ of the Inquisition in Spain. Then, in 1555 - or possibly in 1554 - Henry submitted for registration an edict of the Inquisition, which was rejected by two successive semestres of the parlement.49 Some knowledge of the contents of this important edict can be gleaned from a remonstrance of the president Seguier, and the conseiller du Drac, presented to the king at Villers-Cotterets on 22 October 1555. The parlement was still worried about the juridical confusion; they denied that they were dilatory, as the king had alleged, and they resented his suspicions of their orthodoxy. Henry is reported to have complained that, Yil en falloit choisir douze en chaque semestre pour punir les Lutheriens [a chambre ardente] il estime qu'ils 45 A. Fontanon, Les Gdits et ordonnances des rots de France, 4 vols (Paris, 1611), iv, 226-7. 46 Haag, x, 23-24, 27 June 1551, edict of Chateaubriant, arts, xxiii, xxv. 47 Fontanon, iv, 259-60,4 September 1559. 48 J. Lestocquoy, Ed., Acta Nuntiaturae Gallicae, ix, Correspondance du nonce en France, Prospero Santa-Croce, 1552-1554 (Rome, Paris, 1972), 143. 49 From 1554, different personnel sat turn and turn about. Zeller, 151.

26

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

ne se pourraient trouver'. The king, Seguier went on, had been told that the parlement was afraid of inquisitors. On the contrary, he declared, Tinquisition mise en 1'ordinaire par personnes dignes peut etre bonne'. If, however, the king wished to make use of 'Inquisitors', they requested him to employ only 'gens approuves', limited to conducting enquiries and making reports. This would appear to mean that any new inquisitors; were only to prepare heresy cases for other authorities, and not themselves to act as a special tribunal; clearly the word 'inquisitor' was being used in different senses, which contemporaries evidently understood. The reasons advanced by Seguier for the parlement's refusal to register the edict of the Inquisition are revealing. For laymen and clergy in minor orders, he said, there already existed the edict — presumably of Chateaubriant, 27 June 1551 - and, for the clergy, the ecclesiastical courts. What the king now proposed would, they averred, ruin his royal justice and augment that of the church. This was because the edict ascribed to the church the judgement of laymen in heresy cases, without appeal. Secular courts would be left with only the punishment of the condemned. That was, indeed, how the medieval Inquisition had worked. Thus the core of the objection appears to have been the abolition of the well-established right of appeal to the parlement. That, Seguier said, would deprive laymen of legal protection and, in effect, the clergy also. An edict of confiscation, which had followed that of the Inquisition, also raised anxieties about the protection of property. Under an independent inquisitorial system, they said, it would be easy to forge the evidence of two witnesses, burn the accused, and seize his property; this measure would therefore affect every nobleman in France. There can be no doubt that sequestrations and confiscations, which ruined the innocent and guilty alike, had been one of the harshest and most arbitrary aspects of the early Inquisition. There was, the president claimed, with some justification, no need for 'an Inquisition'. Adequate provision already existed for the punishment of heresy by referring laymen to the presidial courts, with appeal to the parlements, and clergy to the ecclesiastical courts, with the same right of appeal. This was not, it should be noted, a statement of the current regulations, but evidently of what the parlement was prepared to accept. For the purpose of receiving clerical appeals, they proposed that their number of conseillers-clercs should be increased.5 ° The parlement may therefore be seen to have upheld the function of the Inquisition, but purged of some of its undesirable aspects. These, after all, had originally stemmed more from inadequate machinery than 50

Maugis, ii, 3-5.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

27

from malevolent principles. But they would not accept an Inquisition which could function wholly outside the royal judical system, and they had consistently resisted any interference with appeals. Such retrograde steps as Henry's Inquisition edict evidently proposed, would necessarily have appeared both nonsensical and oppressive. The king, however, no longer trusted the parlement. The Inquisition seems, therefore, to have been quite narrowly conceived, not as the function of prosecuting heresy, but as the judgement of laymen by special ecclesiastical courts, outside the royal judicial system, with no security of property, and no right of appeal. The controversy revealed by the remonstrance of October 1555 accounts for the contents of Henry's letter of 13 February 1557 to his ambassador in Rome, Odet de Selve.51 In it, Henry admitted to having agreed to establish an Inquisition in France 'suivant la forme de droit, pour estre le vray moyen d'extirper la racine de telles erreurs'.52 The proposal, however, had raised certain difficulties. Henry now wished the pope to instruct a cardinal and other prominent churchmen, authorising them to appoint suitable persons to organise an Inquisition 'en la forme et maniere accoustumee de droit, sous 1'autorite du Saint Si&ge Apostolique, avec 1'invocation du bras seculier et juridiction temporelle' — a fair description of the medieval Inquisition. That would have relegated the royal courts to the auxiliary role originally attributed to the secular power. The king undertook to support this Inquisition with all his might.5 3 On 26 April 1557 the pope accordingly appointed the cardinals Lorraine, Bourbon and Chatillon as inquisitors general for all France. While a commission of cardinal pluralists was unlikely to commend itself to the parlement, the terms of the commission allowed, potentially at least, for some degree of compromise. The cardinals might delegate both the cognisance of heresy cases in the first instance, as well as authority to hear appeals. The Inquisition, as originally, was to be imposed with the co-operation of the bishop, in each diocese. The papal brief was formulated into letters patent of 24 July 1557 for registration by the parlement. Henry added the stipulation that the

51 G. Ribier, Lettres et memoires d'estat, 2 vols (Blois, 1666), ii, 677-8, 13 February 1556/7, Henry II to de Selve. The time lag is accounted for by the preoccupation of foreign policy. 52 Rene Ancel, Nonciatures de France, i, parts i and ii (1909,1911) Nonciatures de Paul IV, vol. i (2), 458-9, 11 August 1556, instructions from Carafa to Rucellai. Henry had agreed to what the pope desired in respect of heresy. 53 The pope agreed to address his brief to Lorraine. Ribier, ii, 678-84, 28 March 1556/7, de Selve to Henry II.

28

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

cardinals might only delegate their powers to persons of proven quality. Whereas it was normal for the parlement to receive the oath of inquisitors, they were now to be sworn to fidelity before the privy council. Henry, however, yielded a little in the matter of appeals. The cardinals were to establish appeals tribunals in the parlement towns. At least six out of ten members were to be conseillers of the parlement.54 On the same day as the letters patent, the king also issued the edict of Compiegne, which vastly extended the death penalty in heresy cases. Following his undertaking to the pope, Henry also declared that such disorders should be punished and suppressed by force as well as by justice. This could be interpreted as proclaiming a latter-day crusade. The letters patent and the edict were not registered until six months later, in the presence of the king, which indicates compulsion. Furthermore, the parlement evidently obstructed their execution, since the papal commission to the cardinals was apparently rescinded the following June 1558; certainly the proposed new Inquisition was never established.5 5 There is no sign that the cardinals did more than appoint four inquisitors general, whose oaths were received by the parlement. In accordance with the remonstance of 1555, they were only empowered to attend to doctrinal matters.56 This attitude of the parlement to the edicts of religion and the form of Inquisition attempted by Henry II was entirely consistent with their Gallican opposition to the Concordat, and their perfectly proper aversion from extraordinary tribunals. Such tribunals not only detracted from the authority of the parlement, but also threatened civil liberties and juridical standards. Henry, however, could not be expected to appreciate their intransigent opposition in the face of a rapidly worsening problem. At the end of April 1559, the wars being over, Henry rounded on them, demanding to know from each and every member what he believed should be done. As a result, Anne du Bourg and seven others were arrested — which was only a very small minority. If the parlement could frustrate the Inquisition, they were powerless to divert the king from his martial intentions, proclaimed in letters patent on 2 June; it was not the parlement but his fatal accident which supervened.5 7 The conduct of the Guises, who assumed power under Francis II, suggests that they may have been prompting Henry. Lorraine resumed 54 Fontanon, iv, 228-9, 24 July 1557, letters patent. 55 Ludwig von Pastor, Histoire des papes, 16 vols (Paris, 1888-1934), xiv, 261. The correspondence of the nuncio, Lorenzo Lenzi, affords no enlightenment. 56 Maugis, ii, 7. 57 Lucien Romier, Les Origines politiques des guerres de religion, 2 vols (Paris, H3-14), ii, 362-4, letters patent, 2 June 1559.

Was There an Inquisition in Reformation France?

29

the struggle for the registration of the edict of the Inquisition, possibly hoping that the recent arrests had altered the disposition of the parlement. The following August, he called a meeting with senior officials to discuss the matter and, allowing certain — unspecified — amendments, the king again ordered the parlement to register the edict.58 The Guises, however, could hardly hope to succeed where Henry II had failed. Besides, from March 1560, the policy of the crown moved away from various forms of Inquisition towards the equally unacceptable policy of licenced co-existence. The heresy of the sixteenth century had posed a juridically insoluble problem, and the parlement had reached an impasse. 58 Ribier, ii, 817, 10 August 1559, Francis II to the avocat and procureurs generaux du parlement de Paris.

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

PREFATORY NOTE Catherine de Medici is one of the most controversial figures of the early modem period. Her name has come to symbolise her age and both have long retained an exceptionally powerful emotive force. Consequently they have attracted many writers primarily seeking to apportion blame for the sombre events of the sixteenth century. This has resulted in a bewildering multiplicity of judgements upon Catherine, ranging from the scurrilous to the fulsome. Much of what has been written about her appeared, in any case, before the publication in nine volumes between 1880 and 1905 of her vast correspondence, which has still been very little used. Since this essay was first published in 1966, I have myself partially superseded it. This is, therefore, a new and fully revised edition. No authoritative work has yet appeared on Catherine de Medici and we remain, as I originally stated in the preface, largely ignorant of many factors with a bearing upon her life and work. Meanwhile, the purpose of this essay is necessarily limited. I have tried to escape from mechanical cliches and the polemics of the pamphleteers, seeking to place Catherine's efforts and achievements in a more accurate historical perspective.

3

CATHERINE DE MEDICI AND THE ANCIEN REGIME The career of Catherine de Medici is generally seen, with literal precision, as divided from the seventeenth century — and hence in popular parlance from the ancien regime - by the exceptional reign of Henry IV which joins the two centuries in more than a purely temporal sense. Similarly, the civil wars, habitually designated 'wars of religion', are tidily stowed behind the edict of Nantes, 1598. In this way the complexities of the sixteenth century may be conveniently disposed of, and France can be seen to have shared in the internal crises and external wars which were the common experience of many countries in the first half of the seventeenth century. But such a simplification renders both Catherine's career and the seventeenth century incomprehensible by ignoring the distinct, internal unity of what one might call the century of civil wars. This lay between the two great peace treaties of CateauCambresis in 1559 and the Pyrenees in 1659. The problems and crises of the seventeenth century did not spring from the healing reign of Henry IV; they must be traced back at least to the sudden death of Henry II in 1559, and the subsequent outbreak of civil war. Indeed, there is a sense in which this whole period might be regarded as the great crisis or watershed of pre-Revolutionary France. From this crisis a stronger monarchy slowly emerged, permitting the achievements of the grand siecle, before its decline and fall in the eighteenth century. The career of Catherine de Medici, like the crisis itself, proceeded from the accidental death of her husband. Thus, during the first thirty years of this century of troubles, her endeavours to guide the destinies of France rendered her the first custodian of the monarchy which she successfully struggled to preserve. Catherine de Medici - or the little duchess as they called her - was married in 1533 by her uncle, pope Clement VII, to Henry of Orleans, second son of Francis I. Apart from the exigencies of Franco-papal relations, there was every reason why Catherine should have married well in France. Her mother, Madeleine de la Tour d'Auvergne, comtesse de Boulogne, had married Lorenzo dei Medici, duke of Urbino, when he came to Blois in 1518 as papal representative at the christening of the dauphin Francis. Madeleine was descended, on her father's side, from the ancient dukes of Aquitaine and the counts of Auvergne. Her mother, Jeanne de Bourbon- Vendome, was a direct descendant of Saint-Louis, and a princess of the blood. Through this connection, Catherine was a second cousin of Antoine de Bourbon, king of Navarre, first prince of the blood. She was also a cousin by marriage of her own husband Henry, and related to many members of the French nobility, in particular the dukes of Montpensier and Guise. Orphaned almost at birth, she was the heiress of extensive properties in France as well as an Italian inheritance. At the time of her marriage - celebrated by no less

32

Princes, Politics and Religion, 154 7-1589

than thirty-four successive days of feasting - she was considered an advantageous match. She did not lack distinguished suitors - including the King of Scotland — and the customary disparagement of her descent was a later invention of her enemies. Virtually nothing is known of Catherine's childhood in Rome and Florence. She is said to have been charming and vivacious, and blessed with the courageous gaiety she displayed all her life. She grew up with an unswerving sense of duty and was sufficiently well trained and instructed to be received as an adornment into the almost legendary court of France. There she avoided embroilments, behaved with notable discretion and endeared herself to the king. Not only was she cultured and creative, but also energetic and fearless in such taxing pursuits as archery and hunting. Francis therefore admitted her into his circle of intimates. Deeply influenced by the Fontainebleau and Saint-Germain of Francis I, Catherine herself was to become a lavish builder, patron and collector. Her own court was later described by Brantome as a veritable heaven upon earth. If Catherine had more in common with Francis I than with her husband, her marriage was by no means unsuccessful. In spite of Henry's abiding attachment to Diane de Poitiers, and the curious menage a trois which he maintained to the end of his life, the depth and durability of Catherine's love for him is very well attested. It enabled her to suffer this mortification with dignity and civility. Her principal study was always to please him, and her letters suggest that singleminded devotion to Henry was the light of her early life and the inspiration of her widowhood, albeit combined with a certain element of morbidity. This prompted her to dress in black when he took the field and, many years later, to set aside in her Paris house a darkened mourning room. Throughout Henry's reign Catherine lived quietly, withdrawn from the strife of public affairs. Nevertheless, her ability was noted by the Venetian, Contarini, who thought that she deserved to be consulted. It is doubtful, however, if anyone seriously suspected her of being incomparably more able than her husband, for whose sudden death in a tournament she was neither politically nor personally prepared. Over a year later her health was still thought to be endangered by her grief. Catherine had already reached the then advanced age of forty when she was tragically hurled into the political arena and confronted with an unprecedented situation. The year 1559 was already climacteric in the affairs of Europe. But the French Renaissance monarchy was also involved in a domestic crisis when the king's sudden death posed new and even graver problems. The overwhelming importance of the person of the king was a mystical fact in the state of France. Henry had been a legitimate, adult, crowned king, the visible head of the social hierarchy, the theoretical source of patronage and justice, and an effective soldier who defended his frontiers and suppressed revolt. As such, he had provided a principle of unity. But once this principle was destroyed, the

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

33

deficiencies of his government, the youthfulness of his children and the existence of deeply divided factions instantly threatened anarchy. Henry's death also coincided with plague, famine and the aftermath of war, the emergence of the problem of religion in its most acute form, a financial crisis and a breakdown of justice. These conflated problems heralded a long revolutionary period. The dauphin Francis, though not legally a minor, was only fifteen and far from strong. This lent Catherine immediate importance, although her position as queen mother was perilously ill-defined. It was certainly not upon her invitation that the cardinal of Lorraine and his brother Francois due de Guise assumed control of the government. They were already powerful and, in the absence of effective royal support, there was no one at court who could successfully oppose them. Consequently it was the Guises who dominated Francis's brief reign. It was marked by the violence of their religious persecution and by their mounting unpopularity, at least with those who were not their clients. Their determination to control the king, to direct his affairs to their own advantage and to resist any moderate religious settlement, produced a deep cleavage in the state. Such, at least, was the widespread opinion, and emphatically that of Catherine herself. She saw the whole period, from 1559 to the outbreak of civil war in 1562, as a struggle against the Guises and all they stood for. In the absence of a regency for Francis II, there was initially little that Catherine could do to resist the Guises. She opposed their demands for a form of inquisition, and strove to control and limit.the causes of conflict. She was assisted in this by the appointment, in May 1560, of the distinguished chancellor, Michel de L'Hospital, who added liis support and wisdom to her own restraining counsels. On his advice - and that of the admiral, Gaspard de Coligny, seigneur de Chatillon, who was soon to become a huguenot leader — Catherine called an assembly of notables, which met at Fontainebleau in August 1560. L'Hospital hoped, in this way, to draw the crown closer to the princes of the blood, Antoine de Bourbon, king of Navarre and his brother Louis, prince de Conde. Both these princes, were it not for the Guises, would normally have been prominent in the council. The Bourbons declined to attend this assembly, though they dared not boycott the estates general, summoned to Orleans in December. The Guises therefore seized upon this opportunity to try to destroy them. Conde was arrested on arrival, charged with heresy and lese-majeste and summarily condemned. His life, however, was dramatically saved by the premature death of Francis II on 5 December 1560. The failure of such an audacious coup raised a mortal enmity between the Guises and Conde. This was a most inauspicious beginning to the minority of Charles IX. The death of Francis II, though another personal calamity, partially released Catherine from the control of the Guises. It enabled her to secure the regency necessary for Charles IX, who was only ten. The

34

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

regency was ultimately confirmed by the estates general, and Navarre, as first prince of the blood, was correctly associated with Catherine as lieutenant general. The achievement was an indication of Catherine's political dexterity, but there is no sign that she considered it a triumph. On the contrary, she viewed the future with apprehension. In a letter to her daughter Elisabeth, queen of Spain, Catherine declared that her principal purpose was to serve God and maintain her authority. This was not for herself, but in order to preserve the kingdom and for the benefit of her sons whom, she said, she loved as Henry's children. Years later she reminded Henry HI that ever since his father's death she had had no wish to live except in the service of God and the crown. It was probably true that there was nothing more of life that she desired for herself; certainly she possessed no rosy illusions about her dawning political career. In the same, celebrated letter, she described not only her personal desolation, but also the danger of her public position in a deeply divided kingdom in which there was no one — she meant of the nobility - in whom she could trust. This, among other private letters, is particularly valuable because it disposes of the still prevalent opinion that Catherine was ambitious and avid for power. Ambition, however, was scarcely a moral force capable of sustaining her, as something did, through years of unremitting struggle. Besides, she was so obviously dwelling on the past, not grasping at the future, and her intentions were always conservative. She strove to restore the state and order which had previously existed under Francis I and Henry II, before her world collapsed. Catherine's acquisition of the regency was a corresponding setback for the Guises, who lost direct control of the royal authority; but they were not disgraced and remained powerful at court. The struggle was therefore intensified, since Catherine had acquired some initiative, while the Guises had lost ground. The regency was no sooner established than they began conspiring to oust Catherine from power, and quarrelled violently with Navarre. This crisis centred on a struggle for control of the council, and swiftly conjured the spectre of civil war. Thwarted in their endeavours, they turned to Spain, seeking the leadership of Philip II for a political association known as the Triumvirate. This was formed in April 1561 and consisted originally of Guise himself, the constable Montmorency and Saint-Andre, a marshal of France. Together these three largely controlled the army. They were later to obtain the adherence of Navarre by feigning sympathy for his primary interest, the recovery of Spanish Navarre or at least the exaction of proper compensation. It is evident that the Guises had been in touch with Spain since the negotiations for the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis. But their more positive connection in 1561 introduced a new factor into French politics and licensed the subversive intervention of Spain with which France was cursed throughout the century of civil wars. At court the Triumvirate began to adopt an insolent, hectoring attitude; so did

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

35

Chantonnay, the Spanish ambassador. When censured for his absence from the court sermon at Easter, Guise accused Catherine of 'drinking at two wells' in her religious policy; he also announced his contempt for her moderate religious edicts and flaunted his wish to fight the protestants. Chantonnay, for his part, threatened her with exile to her chateau of Chenonceaux. Evidence suggests that Catherine knew of the existence of the Triumvirate as an organised faction; certainly she was vehement in her condemnation of the Guises. While they were generally referred to collectively, it was primarily Lorraine who incurred distrust and antipathy, the duke having been a popular and colourful military hero. Catherine complained to her daughter Elisabeth that it was they — 'who were used to playing the king' — who prevented her from restoring order in France. She resented their humiliating treatment of her during Francis's reign, and their constant misconstruction of her conduct. She believed that she was hated on their account, and would never be obeyed while they were associated with the government. Nor was she moved by their pious pretexts, but thought them obsessed by grandeur and greed. In the words of L'Hospital, they deemed it a profitless waste to serve a child. In spite of this insubordinate hostility, Catherine and L'Hospital strove for some practical settlement of the problem of religion and for the reform of abuses in the state. Consequently they sought the advice and consent of several traditional forms of council. They had begun by trying, with the edict of Romorantin in May 1560, to detach religion from politics, and to distinguish effectively between heresy and treason. But this, and several other moderate edicts, were all delayed and obstructed by the parlement of Paris. So was the great reforming ordinance of Orleans - potentially capable of having altered the history of France - which L'Hospital formulated in 1561 from the cahiers of the estates general. Neither Catherine nor L'Hospital was responsible for the colloque of Poissy, a national council which opened on 9 September 1561 and lasted for over a month. This had been determined by the assembly of Fontainebleau, should the pope fail to call what the French really wanted, a new, general council, franc et libre. Such a council, whether general or national, was formally promised to the estates general in January 1561, so great was the pressure of public demand. Catherine, however, was among those who still believed in the possibility of doctrinal reconciliation because, as she said, the protestants held no 'monstrous opinions'. In a sense, she was right, since a mixed commission of moderates produced several formulae of masterly ambiguity. But the concurrent assembly of prelates was implacably opposed to the whole enterprise. The colloque of Poissy was probably foredoomed to failure, if only because the alignment of parties was too far advanced. Catherine may

36

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

have placed some hope in the formal reconciliation, which she had staged in August, between Conde and Guise. This seeming charade was actually a vital expedient to enable both factions to meet at court. But, as one contemporary observed, their stomachs were averse. Both sides were arming and the Guises left court, without licence to depart, before the colloque was over. The Triumvirate had lately been threatening Catherine with the power of Spain, and treating her with personal discourtesy. They even roused her in the night with alarming reports. Chantonnay supported them with a policy of intimidation. Nor were the catholics any longer the only offenders. Years later, Catherine recorded how admiral Coligny, seeking to impel her into the protestant camp, was also a frequent harbinger of disturbing news. This might partly account for her lifelong distrust of him. The frustration of Poissy publicly confirmed a state of deadlock between the parties which, if most generally expressed in terms of religion, was by no means confined to a single issue. In view of the danger of civil war, Catherine and L'Hospital were advised to summon to Saint-Germain two representatives from each of the eight parlements. Together with the council — from which the Triumvirate had withdrawn -this assembly produced the celebrated edict of January 1562. This edict formally recognised the existence of organised protestant churches, and brought them under a degree of royal supervision. It conditioned all future protestant thinking because it permitted the cult outside the towns, without otherwise restricting its celebration. Thus it was also a recognition of the need for licenced coexistence as the only practicable solution to the problem of religion. The idea of toleration barely existed, and the first edict (of January), no less than the last edict (of Nantes), was primarily a political measure. Their purpose was the preservation of peace until, by the grace of God, the churches should be reunited. It is impossible to determine Catherine's part in the initiative which led to the edict of January. Certainly it showed considerable statemanship. The procedure was irreproachable and it shifted the onus of decision onto the assembly, whose authority was unassailable. It also forced the nobility to show their hand. In spite of its failure, the edict was a triumph for Catherine. Moved to great eloquence by the momentous occasion, her concluding oration evoked both a favourable decision and the unexpected admiration of the papal nuncio. Furthermore, time and subsequent disasters confirmed her judgement that coexistence must be permitted, if France and the monarchy were to survive. This, perhaps, was the real issue. The departure of the Guises from court and council in October 1561 was a flagrant act of insubordination which had already placed them in the wrong. Their subsequent refusal to honour the edict of January was tantamount to declaring the war for which they had openly been preparing. Perhaps most serious of all was the decline of huguenot confi-

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

37

dence in the power of the crown and the good faith of catholics. Many of them treated the protestants as outlaws. Their deprivation of present security and future hope released a universal quarrel which could be pursued in countless ways and at any point on the social scale. Catherine's position was enigmatic in the spring of 1562, before the outbreak of civil war in June. It is still uncertain to what extent she was a prisoner and tool of the Guises, or covertly inclined to seek protestant support from the prince de Conde. If she could not publicly range the crown on the side of the protestants, neither was her cause confounded with that of the triumvirs. Consequently she was isolated, while suffering the importunity of both factions. This alone would account for the remarkable fervour and perseverance of her efforts to make peace, 'in spite of the very heavens and all the elements'. But, as she was publicly bound to deny that she and the king were detained or coerced by the Triumvirate, she quickly came to be identified with the catholics, who legally controlled the royal forces and a number of high offices obtained in Henry's reign. Her real situation, however, was much more complex, and very unstable. The war itself was brief and settled nothing. But it did break the deadlock which had led to violence, and altered both Catherine's position and that of the factions. In the first place, the Triumvirate no longer existed: Navarre and Saint-Andre had died in battle and the constable, Montmorency, had been taken prisoner; so, on the protestant side, had the prince de Conde. These two contenders could therefore be induced to negotiate. But the principal factor, both in dissolving the Triumvirate and in enabling Catherine to conclude the treaty and edict of Amboise in March 1563, was the murder of Francois due de Guise. The assault was perpetrated before Orleans on 18 February. Thus the catholics, though ostensibly victorious, had suffered major losses. Since it was their leaders who had done most to constrain the crown, the collapse of the Triumvirate and the return of peace afforded Catherine a modicum of independence. After the conclusion of peace at Amboise, Catherine moved to her lovely chateau of Chenonceaux. There she sought to soothe and reconcile the now depleted court with a spell of dazzling entertainment, before resuming her struggle to impose authority and enforce a minimum of religious toleration. This summer of 1563 was a first turning point in Catherine's career. She and the king had endured a powerful challenge and survived a major crisis, which might well have annihilated the royal authority or subjected the crown to that of Spain. If, as regent and a woman, Catherine had lacked the power to prevent a clash or to coerce the parties, once the contenders had been weakened she strove to sustain the crown above the factions. This would at least preserve the traditional conception of the monarchy until, as she then hoped, Charles himself might command obedience. The nobility would normally submit to their sovereign in person, but not to any substitute

38

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

authority. Determined not to hazard her new advantage, she refused to grant the prince de Conde Navarre's former status of lieutenant general. He had, after all, signed the treaty of Hampton Court with queen Elizabeth in September 1562. He was therefore responsible for the English occupation of Le Havre. This, if considerably less dangerous, was not less reprehensible than the Spanish affiliations of the Triumvirate. Instead of promoting the prince — of whose amorous activities she also disapproved — Catherine simply enlisted his services to expel the English from Le Havre in the summer of 1563. Then, upon the return journey, during which she was dangerously ill, she declared the king of age in the parlement of Rouen. This was a precaution, intended to augment the royal authority. It was also a decisive act of political courage, since Charles was an ailing child of only thirteen. Furthermore, it was a pointed reproof for the obstructive parlement of Paris. Upon this occasion Catherine drafted a set of instructions for the king's future guidance. This testament reveals her conception of his duty and of the tasks confronting the crown. The four points which Catherine emphasised were authority, obedience, religion and justice. The king was to offer leadership, and to establish his regime by restoring the proper function of the court. As the centre of attraction, it should hold the state of France in order. She gave priority to public affairs, within a regular routine, and to the satisfaction of the nobles, whose expectations must be fulfilled. This serious political maxim was impressed upon Catherine by Francis I, who already thought the nobles dangerous if insufficiently amused in time of peace. It therefore indicates their uncertain loyalty and suggests her awareness of social tensions. For these reasons Francis had maintained a resplendent court and garrisons in the provinces. These had provided for defence, but also served as chivalric centres for local magnates, dissipating what Catherine called their esprit de pis faire. After specifying the need for order and discipline at court, of whose laxity she disapproved, Catherine turned to the necessity of demonstrating the king's concern for his people. She maintained that those who profited from his unpopularity had neglected his business, excluded envoys and ignored the dispatches for weeks on end. Charles should follow the example of Francis and Henry in welcoming everyone with some personal courtesy, in order to dispel what she called the menteuses inventions of those who had tried to destroy the king's image. He should also follow the examples of Louis XII and Francis I in relation to patronage and the control of the provinces. Louis, she said, had carried about a complete list of office holders and was informed of every vacancy. By the strict control of patronage he had excluded the importunate and reserved for the crown the obedience and service of those he promoted. Francis was also said to have kept lists of provincial notables. He purchased the services of a dozen or so in every province to keep himself minutely informed of public and private affairs in town

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

39

and country. By similar means, Charles should be able to obviate the formation of leagues and conspiracies — from which his reign had already suffered. Finally, Catherine commended to him the care of merchants and the urban bourgeoisie. This curious document, entrusted to the young king's tutor, ignored a number of important matters, including finance and military strength. It reveals Catherine's inevitably traditional view of the monarchy, and would appear to imply that she had been powerless, as regent, to act as she advised. It also betrays the administrative frailty of the crown, and its tenuous hold on provincial loyalty within a supposedly centralised state. Catherine's description sounds archaically simple, but the fact remains that royal control was easily shattered. In the spring of 1564, Catherine embarked upon one of the most courageous and imaginative endeavours of her life, a vast, elaborate progress of court and government round the provinces of France, lasting for over two years. She hoped to restore the public image of the crown, to diffuse a sense of authority and leadership, and to supervise the execution of the edict of Amboise. This marathon journey included the celebrated 'interview' at Bayonne, in the summer of 1565. At this curious, frontier meeting between the courts of France and Spain, a series of political exchanges were offset by a group of the most costly and spectacular festivals ever devised by Catherine or witnessed by the Valois court. They were intended to please her adored Elisabeth, queen of Spain, and also to demonstrate the vitality of France. Catherine had proposed a meeting with Philip II as early as August 1559. But, in the interval, relations had deteriorated. If she could only see Elisabeth, and effect some improvement at a personal level, she might be able to neutralise the influence of Spain. This was essential in order to safeguard the independence of France and to minimise catholic disapproval of the recent peace and edict of Amboise. Certainly the current trend towards hostile relations could not safely be allowed to continue. Catherine's intentions had been perfectly sound. Nevertheless, the interview had such disastrous results as to constitute a second turning point in her career. It was Philip himself — as well as Elisabeth — whom Catherine had been hoping to meet. But arrangements and the journey were both far advanced before she knew for certain that the duke of Alva was coming instead of Philip. He was no diplomat, skilled in the art of insubstantial discussion, but a military extremist of blood and iron with whom she had nothing whatever in common. It is now accepted that nothing was concluded at Bayonne; but this was neither known nor believed at the time. The episode not only gave rise to sinister rumours, it also had a profound psychological effect upon the huguenots, undermining their confidence in Catherine and the edict. The effects of Bayonne became even more serious when, in 1566, Alva was appointed to suppress the revolt in the Netherlands. The huguenots, who saw that conflict in its religious and social aspects, were seized

40

Princes, Politics and Religion, 154 7-1589

with something akin to panic. Not only was Catherine gravely compromised, but popular identification of these two movements ensured the maximum impact on France of the affairs of the Netherlands. Thus the French civil wars were extended right into the pattern of international politics. If Catherine had succeeded at Baypnne in reviving the entente established by the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, before Henry's death in 1559, the later civil wars might have been of more purely domestic concern. As it was, the resurgence of Franco-Spanish hostility became definitive (if not necessarily or consistently apparent), in the mid 1560s, just when Catherine was about to need catholic support on account of the second and third civil wars. The French crown therefore came to be threatened by the dual danger of civil war on the one hand and, on the other, the hostility of Spain. These were circumstances in which the exploitation and perpetuation of trouble in France — preferably trouble of protestant origin - was bound to become a principle of Spanish foreign policy. Such exploitation provided Spain with a highly effective means of neutralising the power of France and curtailing the independent action of the crown. Of the two dangers, war with Spain was undoubtedly the greater, and several factors contributed to a steady deterioration of Franco-Spanish relations. The death of Elisabeth de Valois in 1568 severed an intimately personal link between Catherine and Philip; various French incursions into the Netherlands were a recurrent source of friction, and the gradual decline of Turkish pressure on Spanish resources in the Mediterranean resulted in a more northerly orientation of Spanish policy. Catherine therefore become more afraid of a clash with Spain than of any other calamity — a political assessment which was amply vindicated by the subsequent experience of Henry IV. At no time is Catherine's real position more difficult to assess than during the years 1566—70, following Bayonne and the signal failure of her whole arduous journey. This had not perceptibly enhanced the king's authority or done much to enforce the religious edict. It is normally assumed that Catherine was all-powerful at this time, and consequently responsible for everything that happened. It is also assumed that she chose to alter her policy, and to turn against the protestants whom she had previously appeared to favour. It is therefore necessary to consider the circumstances in which she found herself, the extent to which she wielded authority, and the nature of her political connections. After the interview at Bayonne, the protestants came to re-associate Catherine with their extreme opponents. Once again, her image was obscured by the shadow of Lorraine, from whom she had escaped in 1563 when the death of his brother and the collapse of the Triumvirate deprived him of an effective following. When he returned from'the council of Trent, in January 1564, it was therefore natural that he

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

41

should have sought to recover a powerful position at court. But he lacked opportunity until 1566, since he did not take part in the great itinerary. Lorraine, who still represented the brains and ambitions of the former Triumvirate, remained deeply suspect to the protestants. He is the key, both to an understanding of Catherine's position during these years, and to events preceding the second and third civil wars. These began in 1567 and 1568 respectively, largely as a result of Lorraine's instigation. The explosive tensions which menaced France in the mid-15 60s were, to a great extent, related to the murder of the due de Guise. Paradoxically, it was this which had enabled Catherine to make peace in 1563. But, far from rejoicing, she was justly angry and appalled by this fearful precedent which guaranteed the recurrence of trouble by the exploitation of religious strife in a private cause. It is impossible to ascertain who prompted the murder. But the house of Guise accused the admiral, and forthwith prosecuted a violent quarrel against him and his whole house of Chatillon. This new element of vendetta produced a sinister atmosphere of impending disaster and goes a long way towards accounting for the second and third civil wars. The quarrel had reached such feverish, menacing proportions, even before the journey round France, that neither faction would tolerate the other's presence at court, where Lorraine was held to be in danger. The dispute was reserved by the king for later judgement in the council and, in January 1566, Coligny was declared innocent of the murder of Guise. This, if anything, only intensified the quarrel. France resounded with recriminations and informed observers expected a violent outcome. The quarrel was at least a major contributory cause of the crisis known as the incident de Meaux in September 1567 — a matter of weeks after the arrival of Alva in the Netherlands. This was a protestant initiative, apparently to ambush the king and court, though the leaders declared Lorraine to have been their mark. In spite of this unpardonable outrage against the king's person, Catherine's immediate and continuing reaction was still to negotiate for the restoration of peace and the edict of Amboise. This was achieved at Longjumeau in March 1568. But this 'little peace', as it was called, lasted only a few months, and the third civil war began in August 1568. Since Catherine was able, albeit with difficulty, to obtain the peace of Longjumeau and the edict of Amboise in March 1568 and since, early in June, Lorraine was reported to be 'doing all' at court, it is clear that he must have consolidated his influence during April and May. Catherine was gravely ill at the time, and nearly died. Lorraine, a client of Spain and an inveterate enemy of the protestant nobles, was blamed by most protestants and many catholics for machinations which led to the renewal of war in August 1568. Certainly it was due to him that Catherine's edict of Amboise was revoked in September. This followed an acrimonious clash with her trusted councillor, L'Hospital, who re-

42

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

tired from court. These elements of conflict show how Lorraine's return to power had been via a gradual insinuation. Little by little, he proved too strong for Catherine. He succeeded in exploiting the favour of the young due d'Anjou - heir apparent to the throne - whose jealousy of his brother the king aggravated dangerous factions at court. Anjou was appointed lieutenant general following the death, in November 1567, of the old constable Montmorency - the last of the triumvirs. This was an attempt by the crown to regain at least nominal command of the army from the inimical catholics. In these circumstances, given Lorraine's rank and ability, the weakness of Catherine's position and the strained relations with Spain, she was unable to resist his influence or to exclude him from court and council. The resurgence of Lorraine and his affiliation with Anjou, coupled with the temporary effacement of the catholics as a faction, following the loss of their military leaders, fundamentally affected the position of the protestants. This forced them into opposition, whether real or apparent (but the distinction could not long survive) to the crown itself. In view of the non-enforcement of the religious edict, the presence of 6,000 Swiss mercenaries in France, and of Alva's veteran forces in the Netherlands, their only alternative to opposition was a policy of potentially suicidal inactivity. Thus their apprehension and their provocation made them increasingly assertive. Whereas, during the first civil war, attention had focussed on the catholics, in the second and third it lay with the protestants, who were skilfully made to appear the aggressors. If they could not detach him from the court, or capture him without laying an ambush for the king, then it was in vain that they declared Lorraine to be their enemy. But, if the huguenots could see no practical alternative to opposing, or appearing to oppose the crown, Catherine was equally bound to defend it, and the recurrence of war was precisely what Lorraine required to compel her into his extreme catholic camp. In 1568, however, there was another, related and powerful reason for Catherine's catholic affiliations. Conde had, for some time, been in league with the prince of Orange. If, as then seemed imminent, France was to be invaded by pro-protestant forces from the Netherlands, Catherine could only choose the side of Spain, at the same time seeking to avoid any involvement in the affairs of the Netherlands which might lead to a disastrous general war. These are probably the main factors which explain what has often been interpreted as Catherine's fickle adoption of a pro-catholic, Guise, and Spanish policy. In reality, dangerous circumstances had forced her hand, and war had once again blurred the subtler distinctions of peace. This misapprehension may be partly explained by the erroneous assumption that Catherine was all-powerful. However, the sad failures of these years show that far from having enjoyed sovereign authority she was, on the contrary, virtually powerless. Had it been otherwise, Guises and Chatillons would have respected the king's judicial decision

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

43

of 1566, and Catherine's edict of pacification would have been honoured and retained. But in fact she was neither revered nor supported. She had failed to secure the peace, to impose authority, or to subdue the nobles. Because of her rank she was everyone's target, and exposed to a clamour of divergent pretensions. Yet, being politically isolated, she was obliged to employ those about her, in spite of their dubious loyalty and uncertain commitment. Charles, furthermore, did nothing to enhance his royal authority by continued reliance upon his mother though, to judge from repeated allusions to his alarming debility, it is doubtful if he were really to blame. He evidently lacked the strength for more than fitful activity, which meant that others could safely ignore him. When, in August 1570, the treaty of Saint-Germain released Catherine from the political servitude engendered by the war, she immediately disgraced Lorraine and resumed her own, former, moderate policy. Thus the years 1570—72 witnessed her third distinct attempt to reconcile opposing factions, and to secure a stable peace on the basis of limited toleration. This was to be achieved in two principal ways: by reintegrating protestants into public life through the return of Coligny to court and council, and by reviving an old proposal to marry Henry of Navarre to her daughter Marguerite. Neither was to be easily accomplished and neither proved to be successful. It was only after lengthy hesitation that, in September 1571, Coligny was persuaded to return to court which, for two years after the peace, was more often than not dispersed. But his absence did not prevent him from becoming embroiled, as huguenot leader, in the enterprise of the Netherlands, although this was largely devised, with some of his younger lieutenants, by Louis of Nassau. Opinions upon the enterprise were sharply divided; but Catherine was not alone in strongly opposing a war with Spain. Such was the discordant background to the wedding of Henry and Marguerite which was finally solemnised in Paris on 18 August 1572. Catherine, as was to be expected, personally designed several elaborate entertainments for it. But some were never to be applauded, as the celebrations were disrupted by violent events. The attempted murder of Coligny in August 1572 and the consequent massacre of St. Bartholomew in which he died, finally destroyed the policy of peace and conciliation which the wedding festivities had represented. These events are among the most controversial of modern history. They have bedevilled the interpretation of Catherine's career, because of their emotive force and because the hardy legend of the wicked Italian queen largely rests upon the assumption that they were her deliberate and cold-blooded crimes. While this belief is still widespread, or even prevalent, some historians now maintain that it was Catherine - exercising the regalian right of summary jurisdiction - who planned the murder, but not the massacre which followed its failure. Catherine's position was not less complex than in 1562, 1567 and

44

Princes, Politics and Religion, 154 7-1589

1568 when, in spite of her most strenuous efforts, she had repeatedly been manoeuvred into civil war. In August 1572 it was the events of St. Bartholomew's eve which opened the fourth civil war. It is impossible to distinguish Catherine's role from that of the rest of the court and council which — it now seems reasonably clear — collectively authorised what I have called elsewhere a 'pre-emptive act of war' against the infuriated huguenots who threatened to devastate the court and capital. One thing, however, is quite certain: for the rest of her life Catherine had to contend with the consequences of the massacre. Its immediate effects were the frustration of Catherine's work of conciliation since 1570, the resumption of civil war and the political failure of the Bourbon marriage, which became an embarrassment. There were also more far-reaching effects, which resulted from the hardening attitude of the protestants. They began to exploit the disruptive ambitions of the king's brother Alen£on and were to produce, as Charles IX lay dying, one of the most dangerous situations that Catherine ever had to face. The massacre, for which the protestants blamed the crown, caused them to evolve a more elaborate organisation, the nascent protestant 'state within the state', which matured about 1575. Such an organisation, defensive in origin, was open to the exploitation of noble extremists who commanded the initiative in war and politics. This led to a gradual divergence between them and the consistoriaux, the honest zealots, who were fairly easily satisfied with reasonable terms, provided these were honoured. This partial divergence of interest between the leadership and the rank and file (which became more marked towards the end of the century), resulted in a decrease in emphasis on the cause of religion, the only effective bond of unity. This led to fragmentation and permitted the emergence of different and even disparate forms of opposition, if only for limited periods and largely negative purposes, since the members of any successful malcontent movement were bound to dispute the division of spoils. New situations and quarrels became superimposed upon existing ones, producing fluid combinations and unstable alliances for ill-defined purposes. Civil war, previously conducted for at least some distinguishable reasons, began to yield to anarchy, unrestrained and unpredictable. Thus, during 1573, an obscure and evidently revolutionary movement arose in the south of France, its principals, for a time at least, including both catholics and protestants. They looked for support to the turbulent young Alenfon, whose rank and ambition seemed promising assets while his folly and incompetence were not yet apparent. Whatever purposes the others entertained, Alenfon coveted his brother's crown. He had allegedly sought to murder Anjou - heir presumptive at the siege of La Rochelle which followed the massacre. But when Anjou became king of Poland, in 1573, Alen9on transferred his attentions to Charles. Some attempt upon Charles' life was thwarted when

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

45

sickness unexpectedly altered his itinerary. Alenfon and the young Navarre then planned a palace coup, at Saint-Germain, to be supported by some more general rising. Thus, with Henry far away in Poland and Charles already on his deathbed, Catherine was not only faced with the continuation of civil war, but also with revolution, and a powerful, if ill-considered assault upon the succession by her own youngest son. The coup and the rising both miscarried. This enabled Catherine to arrest the rebel princes, and to move the king to the fortress of Vincennes. There he died a few weeks later, on 30 May 1574. These measures did not, however, end the attempted revolution; Catherine was further obliged to arrest the marshals Cosse and Montmorency both catholics - who received time for repentance in the Bastille. These arrests, if essential for security, had the disadvantage of precluding a negotiated settlement with other opposition leaders, chief of whom was Montmorency's brother, Damvil\e,gouverneur of Languedoc. Catherine therefore sought to isolate the malcontents, by detaching them from the huguenots, and this is what she was trying to do at the time of Charles's death. Catherine had already taken steps to ensure the continuity of government. In the presence of Alenpon, Charles declared Henry of Anjou his rightful heir and, pending his return from Poland, Catherine's regency was registered in the parlement. It was by her presence of mind in providing for the transmission of authority and in arresting the princes and marshals - an expedient she had never attempted before - that Catherine preserved the crown for Henry and, with it, the principle of legitimacy. There is no doubt that the state, as she conceived of it, had come very close to subversion. This reprieve is one of Catherine's positive achievements amidst the catalogue of her abortive efforts. But, if the court crisis was over, the provinces were still in arms. Catherine therefore spent the summer struggling to restore peace and order before Henry had returned. It is clear from her letters what Charles's early death had cost her, and also how intensely she adored the wayward, gifted prince in whom she now placed all her hopes for the recovery of France. Otherwise the future held only some barely conceivable ruin. Whereas Charles had grown to manhood but not to strength, Henry was already twenty-two and apparently not yet subject to those afflictions of body and mind which later frustrated his good intentions. Charles had not governed for himself, or not in any regular sense, but it is clear, indeed it was inevitable, that Catherine expected Henry to do so. Far from resenting any consequent change in her own position, she had always wanted France to possess an effective king. No other authority could ever restore the realms of Francis I and Henry II. It was therefore natural that Catherine should have longed, as she said, for Henry's glory and success. Even so, her nascent hopes were tempered by a growing fear of his unsuitability for government, while he loitered on his way amidst the splendours of Venice. Her attitude is

46

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

clearly illustrated in a long letter of advice to the king; it also disposes of the traditional allegation that her judgement was impaired by her maternal affections. This long and remarkable memoir, dated 8 August 1574, began with an expression of her love for Henry and her hopes for his future greatness. Recognising his potential advantage in appearing from abroad, and the importance of his royal dtbut in France, she exaggerated his reputation and experience. She exhorted him to take magisterial possession of his kingdom, and to restore order with firmness and benevolence as though he were unaware of the irresponsible ways of the French. Then her dream of majesty dissolved in her fear of Henry's feeble dependence upon others and his propensity for junketing with frivolous companions. The memoir urged him to stand alone, as master in his realm, and to avoid provoking opposition by the entertainment of favourites. To obtain the support and obedience of the provinces — now more difficult and essential than ever - Henry necessarily received the same advice as Charles. Similarly, Henry was to maintain a well-ordered court, himself providing the example, rising at a given hour and dispatching his affairs with punctilious attention. Henry must personally assume all control and direction, whether of the dispatches, diplomacy, petitions, finances or councils. Thus all policy and advancement would proceed from him, and all allegiance and gratitude return to him. The restoration of the country through regular government could win Henry support and esteem. Catherine never theorised; she was urgently concerned with practical issues and the emulation of a good example. Before the development of an abstract allegiance to the state, France could be healed in no other way. The conclusion of Catherine's letter is interesting: it says that during her regency she had begun to put the state in order, thereby implying that she had previously been powerless to do so. But Henry, she declared, cy peult tout, mais qu'yl veulle'. Thus she affirmed her belief in his opportunity and her fear of his insufficiency, mingling with the first expression of her hopes the apprehension of their disappointment. Catherine's fears were, indeed, well founded, and nothing reveals more clearly the extent of her moral courage than her acceptance of the agonising discrepancy between her love for Henry and her considered opinion of the king. It is difficult to penetrate Henry's relations with his mother. Her exposition of his duty indicates, by implication, her conception of her own. With his accession she retreated into the background, though never into obscurity. Henry seems mostly to have taken her for granted, alternately exploiting and neglecting her. While she cheerfully endured much for the sake of his service, she was evidently wounded by his personal indifference. It may be that he found her a little hard to bear, that she frightened him, or that her steady devotion and resolute character induced in him a painful sense of guilt since, in spite of his weakness, he was neither unscrupulous nor oblivious of his

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

47

own deficiency. Catherine's influence on Henry was always considerable and, when others entreated him in vain, it was she who recalled him to his duty. This tends to show that she did not seek to dominate him. That would have been the exercise of another substitute authority and it was a king, not a cipher, that Catherine wanted to restore the former state of France. Though Catherine's position was considerably altered, Henry often left her to supply his absence, and sent her on strenuous, hopeless missions to avert the effects of his own incompetence. Not the least taxing of her efforts for Henry was the struggle to control the menacing activities of Alenpon - now heir presumptive - until his death in 1584. But, if his death removed one danger, it created another, since the protestant Navarre became heir to the throne. This — combined with the wider movement of European affairs - spurred the Guises to form an organised Catholic League. In December 1584 they entered into treaty relations with Spain and, for Catherine, the wheel had come full circle. From the beginning of 1585 - when Catherine was seriously ill — Henry began to be gravely menaced, whether with deposition, imprisonment, military disaster or assassination. But the Guise audacity was weakened by a certain hesitation, which enabled Catherine to play for time. She could not, however, save the king from a more subtle kind of incapacitation and a more terrible form of depredation through the effective, if not calculated manipulation of his personality. This was to drive him to desperation, and to the murder of Henri due de Guise. If Henry's accession had been Catherine's achievement, it was also largely due to her that he was not deposed. Thus one could say that her ultimate service was her contribution to the preservation of the crown for Henry of Navarre, though she did not, of course, ever know this herself. Neither can she have realised the magnitude of his distinction, since he did not yet display those qualities of wisdom, fortitude and imagination which matured with years and responsibility. At this time, uncertainly backed by the protestant party, he repudiated all overtures from the court, declining to assist the king and redeem his tottering heritage. It was Catherine, now old and frequently very sick, who travelled the provinces striving to resist, avert or neutralise this latest and most dangerous threat to the kingdom and to Henry, a total, tragic failure, for whom the painful intensity of her affection remained undiminished. But the situation was beyond control or correction; it was only a few days before her death in January 1589 that Catherine learnt of the murder of Henri due de Guise, committed at the instigation of Henry himself. Thus the folly of Orleans was repeated at Blois, this time begetting a revolution, followed by the Spanish invasion and disputed succession which were Catherine's conception of the ruin of France.

48

Princes, Politics and Religion, 154 7-1589

Mercifully Catherine did not live to see the complete collapse of the Valois monarchy with the murder of Henry in August 1589. Nevertheless, a survey of her career, however brief, shows her to have been the one significant link between the relatively settled reigns of her husband, Henry II, and her cousin and son-in-law, Henry IV. As regent and queen mother she represented, not Jndeed the focus of unity which, it was amply demonstrated, only the king himself could provide, but at least a degree of continuity, permitting a regeneration of the monarchy which, in the following century, was to scale the heights of its power and achievement. If Catherine had begun by working through traditional institutions, she ended by propounding to Henry III what, in effect, were principles of royal absolutism. In other words, in spite of her constant image of the late medieval and Renaissance monarchy, as a result of her experience between 1559 and 1574 it was Catherine who first began to move towards the later conception of absolutism. This was not the exercise of new or greater powers, but a different attitude, and a different use of existing powers. Seventeenth-century absolutism was dependent upon the maintenance of adequate royal forces, whereas Catherine had disposed of no certain force at all. Thus, in considering the position of Henry III, she had unwittingly posed one of the central problems of the ancien regime, the absolute necessity for effective, personal domination by the king. It is therefore worth examining rather more closely the significance of Catherine's role in relation to the ancien regime, and the nature of the problems which confronted her. Some of the problems were naturally rooted in the past, while others sprang from the Reformation. All of them were closely interrelated, and each contributed to the complex of crises which followed the death of Henry II. This event revealed with tragic force the total dependence on the king of the society and state of France. The loss of his person not only presented grave new problems, but also released hitherto controllable tensions, permitting the stream of public life to surge towards a reach of chaos. So, from a position of utter weakness. Catherine became the first to face the collapse of authority in the state. Authority was possibly the fundamental problem of the next hundred years, which successively taxed the abilities of Henry IV, Richelieu, Mazarin and Louis XIV. The collapse of authority which followed the death of Henry II, may be studied in terms of certain ancillary problems, of which the first and most obvious was the notorious weakness of a regency. During the century of civil wars three ineffective kings, whether youthful, sick or inadequate, were succeeded - after the reign of Henry IV - by two minorities. If, technically, Catherine's actual regency was brief, what one might describe as her 'regency situation' was her insuperable disadvantage. For varying reasons, she could not prevent the reigns of her sons, Francis, Charles and Henry, like the minority of Louis XIII and, to a lesser extent, that of Louis XIV after them, from leaving a central

Catherine de Medici and the Ancien Regime

49

vacuum. Consequently, each of these reigns witnessed a comparable pattern of disorders, mostly instigated or supported from abroad. It was this power vacuum, with or without a regency, that made way for the activities of the nobility in arms. By the sixteenth century their powers and profits had grown uncertain and their disaffection was the most intransigent problem of the century of troubles. This disaffection heralded the crisis in 1559 with a clash of ambitions and two mutually exclusive ideologies. Gradually it developed, on both sides, into a shameless and greedy feudal-type opposition, based in the provinces. After the end of the civil wars it took the form of revolutionary conspiracies. Finally it developed into a predominantly court opposition, although this too, as in the Fronde, might combine with other elements and give rise to civil war. The initial form of this disaffection of the nobles, which confronted Catherine, was far the most complex, the most difficult to subdue and, in many ways, the most dangerous. In the first place, it was precipitated, though not uniquely caused, by the fusion of a political with a religious crisis. This resulted in the use of ideology as an,instrument of policy. Not only was that a new and obscurely complicating factor, it was also highly dangerous in that religion was, in all senses, a popular issue, comparable in effect to famine or economic distress; it was capable of embroiling others in the quarrels of noblemen. Secondly, by dividing the country along religious lines, the two contending parties precluded the formation of a moderate, centre and royalist party — there being only two religions. Thus, by opposing each other and not, ostensibly, the crown — far more dangerous than straightforward rebellion — they created a triple interest in the state.. This resulted in a crippling severance of the political from the religious interests of the crown, which was simultaneously paralysed by its isolation and bound by its religion to the otherwise inimical catholic faction. To this predicament — finally resolved by Henry IV — there was no better solution available to Catherine than the possible effects of time, chance and negotiation; hence her essential helplessness. This predicament was not, of course, always equally precise or pressing, but it remained a feature of that kaleidoscopic background which makes Catherine's career so difficult to understand. The tripartite problem, though sometimes obscured, was not resolved, even when genuine ideological motivation began to decline, at least on the leadership level. At this stage the civil wars tended to become endemic, a way of life and even a means of livelihood, particularly for the impoverished young huguenot seigneurs of the south and west, who manifestly enjoyed the alternate satisfactions of laying siege to some neighbouring citadel and to the ladies of the court of Navarre. It was this cavalier and parochial attitude to grave national issues which led Catherine, some fifty years before cardinal Richelieu, to deplore the ungovernable frivolity of the nobility of France.

50

Princes, Politics and Religion, 1547-1589

The activities of the nobility in arms not only beat against the throne itself but also threatened, at times, to subvert the legitimate succession. This was rendered uncertain throughout this period by the collapse of authority, the 'regency situation' and by dynastic accidents. The defence of the succession was of paramount importance to Catherine's struggle for the monarchy and, under her sons Charles and Henry, it was menaced in three different ways. Indeed, there was even a sense in which the first civil war was partially a succession crisis, since the three surviving sons of Henry and Catherine were all expected to die young, leaving a conceivably protestant Bourbon succession. If this was only a minor element in the first civil war, the murderous enmity of Alen^on towards his elder brothers represented a direct assault upon the succession, if not the dynasty. His continuous, menacing insubordination was an important factor in the civil strife of the 1570s. Alenpon's treachery was also the first instance of a new form of opposition, arising from within the royal family itself, and backed by a medley of greedy aspirants. It showed that the ideology of the civil wars was already overtaxed, if still potentially useful. It had to be in the name of religion that the Guises openly tried to subvert the Bourbon succession to their own advantage; an endeavour which they pursued against Henry IV until his abjuration in 1593 and the disintegration of the Catholic League. After the restoration of peace in France the succession was still menaced, albeit in different ways: by the existence of royal bastards including Auvergne, son of Charles IX - by the infancy of Henry's heir, born in 1601, and by the machinations of nobles who planned to exterminate the royal family. The reign of Henry IV saw the end of direct assaults upon the succession. But its continuing uncertainty nourished a long series of shockingly cynical malcontent movements, of the kind initiated by Alen