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Sep 8, 2025

Queen Margot - 1

CHAPTER I

THE DUC DE GUISE'S[1] LATIN

ON Monday, the 18th of August, 1572, there were great doings at the Louvre; the windows of the ancient Royal Palace, usually so gloomy, were brilliantly illuminated; the neighbouring squares and streets, generally so deserted so soon as the clock of Saint-Germain- I'Auxerrois[2] had struck nine, were this evening thronged with people, although it was now midnight. This menacing, pushing, clamorous crowd resembled some dark and angry sea with its roaring waves; this surging tide of humanity pouring out over the quay and overflowing the Rue des Fosses-Saint-Germain and the Rue de I'Astruce, beat against the walls of the Louvre and ebbed back against the base of the H6tel de Bourbon, which rose opposite to the Palace. In spite of the Royal fete, or, rather, perhaps because of it, the attitude of the populace was somewhat threatening, since it did not suspect that this solemnity, at which it was acting the part of an uninvited spectator, was but the prelude to another entertainment postponed to a week later, to which it would be invited, and at which it would delight itself to its heart's content.

The Court was engaged in celebrating the marriage of Marguerite de Valois[3], daughter of King Henri II[4]. and sister of King Charles IX[5], with Henri de Bourbon[6], King of Navarre. In point of fact, the Cardinal de Bourbon[7] had that same morning united the bride and bridegroom, with the ceremonial customary at the weddings of Princesses of France, upon a stage erected at the porch of Notre-Dame.

This marriage had amazed everybody, and had given much food for reflection to sundry who were more clear-sighted than the rest. This drawing together between two factions so antagonistic as were the Protestant and Catholic parties at the present moment, was not easy to understand; people wondered how the young Prince de Condé[8] could forgive the Duc d'Anjou, the King's brother[9], for the death of his father, who had been murdered at Jarnac[10] by Montesquiou[11]. They asked how the young Duc de Guise could pardon Admiral de Coligny[12] for the death of his own father[13], who had been assassinated at Orleans by Poltrot de Méré[14].

More than this: Jeanne de Navarre[15], the courageous wife of the weak Antoine de Bourbon[16], who had brought her son Henri to Paris in order to settle the terms of the Royal alliance, had died barely two months ago, and singular rumours were abroad respecting her sudden decease. Everywhere it was whispered, and sometimes even asserted openly, that she had discovered some terrible secret, and that Catherine de Medici[17], fearing the revelation of this secret, had poisoned her with some perfumed gloves, prepared by one Réné, a Florentine, who was an expert in matters of this nature. Additional confirmation had been given to this report by the fact that, after the death of this great queen, two physicians, one of whom was the celebrated Ambroise Paré[18], had been instructed, at the request of her two sons, to open and examine the body, with the exception of the brain. Now, as Jeanne de Navarre had been poisoned by the perfume, it was the brain, the only part of the body excluded from the autopsy, and the brain alone, which could furnish proof of the crime. We say crime advisedly, for none doubted that a crime had been perpetrated. Nor was this all. King Charles, in particular, had shown a persistence amounting to obstinacy in bringing about this marriage[19], which would not merely restore peace to his realm, but would likewise attract to Paris all the leaders of the Huguenot faction. Inasmuch as one of the two parties to the marriage belonged to the Catholic, and the other to the Reformed Religion, it had been necessary to apply for a dispensation to Gregory XIII[20], who at that time occupied the Papal throne. The dispensation was slow in coming, and this delay had caused great anxiety to the late Queen of Navarre, who one day expressed to Charles IX. her fears that it would not arrive at all, to which the King had replied:

"Do not be uneasy, my good aunt; I honour you more than I do the Pope, and I love my sister n:ore than I fear him. I am not a Huguenot, but neither am I a fool, and, should the Pope prove unmanageable, I will myself take Margot by the hand and give her in marriage to your son before the whole Church."

This speech had spread from the Louvre through the city, and, while causing great rejoicing to the Huguenots, had given much food for thought to the Catholics, who inquired of one another in undertones whether the King was really betraying them, or whether he was not rather playing some comedy which would result some fine day in an unexpected denouement.

Especially inexplicable did the conduct of Charles IX. appear to Admiral de Coligny, who for five or six years had maintained a determined struggle against the King. After having set a price upon his head of one hundred and fifty thousand gold crowns, Charles now swore by him alone, styling him his "father," and declaring openly that he would henceforth confide the conduct of the War to none but the Admiral. So far did he go, indeed, that Catherine de Medici, who had hitherto controlled the actions and even the wishes and desires of the young Prince, began to grow seriously uneasy, and not without good reason, for Charles, in a moment of effusion, when speaking of the War in Flanders[21], had remarked to the Admiral:

"My father, there is one thing in this matter of which we must be very careful, and that is, that the Queen Mother, who, as you know, likes to have her finger in every pie, should know nothing of this enterprise; we must keep the affair so secret that she does not get the slightest inkling of it, for, mischief-maker as I know her to be, she would ruin the whole concern."

Well, Coligny, wise and experienced as he was, had been unable to hold his tongue about the secret the King had entrusted to him in such strict confidence; and although he had arrived in Paris full of suspicions, although at his departure from Chatillon a peasant woman had thrown herself at his feet, exclaiming: — "Oh! sir, our good master, do not go to Paris, for if you do, you will perish, you and all who go with you!" — yet these suspicions had gradually faded from his breast, and from that of Teligny[22], his son-in-law, towards whom also the King professed a great friendship, styling him "brother" as he styled the Admiral "father," and conversing with him on as familiar terms as he did with his most intimate and particular friends.

Accordingly the Huguenots, with the exception of some of the more gloomy and distrustful spirits, were completely reassured ; the Queen of Navarre's death was set down as having been caused by pleurisy, and the vast saloons of the Louvre were thronged by all the worthy Protestants to whom the marriage of their young chief Henri promised an altogether unhoped-for change of fortune.

Admiral de Coligny, La Rochefoucauld[23], the young Prince de Conde, Teligny, all the leaders of the Party, in short, triumphed at seeing all-powerful at the Louvre, and so welcome in Paris, those very persons whom three months previously King Charles and Queen Catherine would fain have hanged on gallows higher than those of murderers. The Marshal de Montmorency[24] alone was missing from this illustrious fraternity. Incapable either of being seduced by promises, or deceived by appearances, he had remained in retirement at his Castle of Isle-Adam, alleging as excuse for his absence the grief which he still felt at the death of his father[25], who had been slain by a pistol-shot at the battle of Saint-Denis, by Robert Stuart. But as this event had happened more than three years back, and as depth of feeling was a virtue quite out of fashion at this period, he had not won the credit which he would have wished to gain for this mourning, so inordinately prolonged. Everything besides seemed to decide against the Marshal de Montmorency; the King, the Queen, the Duc d'Anjou, and the Duc d'Alençon[26], were wonderfully gracious to everyone at the royal reception.

The Duc d'Anjou received from the Huguenots themselves well-earned compliments in respect to the two battles of Jamac and Moncontour[27], victories gained by him before he had attained the age of eighteen, eclipsing by this precocity both Csesar and Alexander, to whom they compared him, maintaining, of course, his decided superiority over the victors of Issus[28] and Pharsalia[29]; the Duc d'Alençon listened to these compliments with a fawning, yet insincere expression; Queen Catherine beamed with delight, and, with an air of utmost graciousness, congratulated Prince Henri de Conde on his recent marriage with Marie de Cloves[30]; lastly, the Messieurs de Guise themselves smiled upon the formidable enemies of their house, while the Duc de Mayenne[31] discoursed with Monsieur Tavannes[32] and the Admiral about the coming war, which it was now more than ever a question of declaring against Philip II[33].

Amid these groups there passed backwards and forwards, with head slightly inclined and ears open to all topics of conversation, a young man of nineteen, with keen eyes, black hair cut extremely short, bushy eyebrows, nose curved like an eagle's beak, an artful smile, and beard and moustache just sprouting. This young man, who had done nothing to distinguish himself until the battle of Arnay-le-Duc[34], where he had risked his life with much gallantry, and who was now receiving numerous compliments thereon, was the much-loved pupil of Coligny and the hero of the day. Three months ago, that is to say, while his mother was still alive, he had been styled the Prince de Béarn; now his title was King of Navarre, until the time came for him to be called Henri IV.

Occasionally a dark cloud would pass swiftly over his brow; he was doubtless recalling the fact that it was less than two months since his mother's death, and he, more strongly than anybody, suspected that she had been poisoned. But the cloud was a passing one, and disappeared like a floating shadow; for those who were congratulating him and rubbing shoulders with him were the very men who had assassinated the courageous Jeanne d'Albret.

At a short distance from the King of Navarre, and almost as pensive and anxious as the latter affected to be gay and frank, the young Duc de Guise was chatting with Teligny. More fortunate than the Bearnais, at the age of two and twenty his reputation had almost equalled that of his father, the great François de Guise. A nobleman of handsome appearance, tall stature, proud and haughty mien, he was endowed with that natural majesty which caused men to say that, when he passed by, the other Princes appeared but as commonplace people in comparison with him.

Young as he was, the Catholics saw in him the leader of their party, just as the Huguenots saw their leader in the young Henri de Navarre, whose appearance we have just depicted. At an earlier date he had borne the title of Prince de Joinville, and had made his debut at the siege of Orleans, under the command of his father, who had died in his arms, pointing out to him Admiral Coligny as his slayer. Whereupon the young Duke, like Hannibal[35], had sworn a solemn oath that he would be revenged for his father's death upon the Admiral and his family, and that he would hunt the Protestants down without rest or truce, vowing to God to be His Destroying Angel upon earth until the last of the Heretics should be exterminated. It was not, therefore, without profound astonishment that this Prince, usually so faithful to his word, was seen to offer his hand to those whom he had sworn to regard as eternal foes, and chatting familiarly with the son-in-law of the very man whose death he had promised his dying father that he would compass.

But, as we have said, this was an evening of surprises.

In point of fact, had he possessed that knowledge of the future which is happily lacking to men, together with that power of reading the heart which unhappily belongs to God alone, the privileged observer who might have been allowed to take part in this reception would certainly have enjoyed one of the most curious spectacles furnished by the annals of the mournful comedy of human affairs.

But this imaginary observer, who had no place in the inner corridors of the Louvre, continued to gaze in the street with his fierce eyes, and to growl with his menacing voice; this observer was, in fact, the populace, which, with its marvellous instinct sharpened by hatred, followed from a distance the shadows of its implacable enemies, and translated its impressions into words as frankly as an inquisitive person in front of the windows of a ball-room hermetically closed can do. The music intoxicates the dancer as he moves to its melodious rhythm, while the curious spectator, seeing nothing but the movement, and not hearing the music, laughs at the apparently objectless gestures of the puppets.

The music which intoxicated the Huguenots was the voice of their pride.

The flames which danced in the eyes of the Parisians were the lightning-flashes of their hatred shedding their lurid light upon the future.

Within the Palace, however, everything wore a smiling face; nay, at this very moment a murmur more sweet and flattering than any that had preceded it was circulating through the Louvre, to the effect that the young bride, having laid aside her cloak of state and her long wedding-veil, had just returned to the ball-room, accompanied by the beautiful Duchesse de Nevers[36], her bosom friend, and escorted by her brother, Charles IX, who was presenting to her the chief of his guests.

This bride was the daughter of Henri II, the pearl of the crown of France, Marguerite de Valois, whom King Charles IX, in his tender affection for her, never addressed but as "Sister Margot."

Certainly no reception, of however flattering a nature, was ever more deserved than that which was at this moment being accorded to the new Queen of Navarre. Marguerite had scarcely reached her twentieth year, yet she was already the object of the encomiums of all the poets, some of whom compared her with Aurora, others with Venus. She was, in truth, the peerless beauty of that Court, where Catherine de Medici had assembled, to play the part of her Sirens, all the loveliest women she could find. Marguerite had dark hair, a brilliant complexion, a voluptuous eye, veiled by dark lashes, a well cut and rosy mouth, a graceful neck, a full and supple bust, and, lost in its satin slipper, the foot of a child. The French, to whom she belonged, were proud to see so magnificent a flower blossom on their soil, while foreigners passing through France returned from it dazzled by her beauty, if they had merely seen her; amazed at her learning, if they had conversed with her. Marguerite was not only the most beautiful, but also the best-read woman of her time, and people quoted the saying of an Italian scholar who had been presented to her, and who, after talking with her for an hour in Italian, Spanish, Greek, and Latin, had left her presence with the enthusiastic remark: — "To see the Court without seeing Marguerite de Valois is to see neither the Court nor France itself."

Accordingly, there was no lack of speeches made to King Charles IX. and to the Queen of Navarre; the Huguenots, as we know, were great at speeches. Many allusions to the past, many requests for the future, were adroitly conveyed to the King amid these orations; but to all these allusions he replied with his pale lips and crafty smile:

"In giving my sister Margot to Henri de Navarre, I give my sister to all the Protestants in the Kingdom."

This saying, while reassuring some, made others smile, for it contained in reality two meanings: the one paternal, with which Charles IX. in all good conscience was unwilling to overburden his mind; the other, offensive to the bride, to her husband, and also to himself, since it recalled certain grave scandals with which the Court Chronicle had already found means to smirch the nuptial robe of Marguerite de Valois.

However, M. de Guise was chatting, as we have said, with Teligny; but he was not so absorbed in the conversation as to prevent him from occasionally turning to bestow a glance on the group of ladies, in the centre of which shone the Queen of Navarre. If at such moments the Queen's glance encountered that of the young Duke, a cloud seemed to darken that charming brow, on which the diamond stars formed a dancing halo, and some vague, half-formed purpose manifested itself in her impatient and uneasy attitude.

The Princess Claude, Marguerite's eldest sister, who had been now for some years married to the Duc de Lorraine, had noticed this uneasiness, and was approaching her to ask the cause of it, when, owing to the retirement of the whole assembly before the Queen- mother, who advanced, leaning on the arm of the young Prince de Condé, the Princess found herself separated by some distance from her sister. A general movement then occurred, of which the Duc de Guise availed himself to approach Madame de Nevers, his sister-in-law, and, consequently, Marguerite's also. Madame de Lorraine, who had not taken her eyes off the young Queen, then saw, instead of the cloud which she had noticed on her brow, a deep blush overspread her cheeks. The Duke, however, was still advancing, and when he arrived within two paces of her. Marguerite, who seemed to feel rather than see his approach, turned round with a violent effort to compose her features into indifference; thereupon the Duke bowed respectfully before her, and murmured sotto voce: —

"Ipse attuli."

Which meant to say :

"I have brought him, or, have brought myself."

Marguerite returned the young Duke's bow, and, as she lifted her head again, let fall this reply :

"Noctu pro more."

Which signified:

"To-night as usual."

These softly-spoken words, swallowed up as in a speaking-trumpet by the Princess's enormous starched collar, were heard only by the person to whom they were addressed; but short as the dialogue had been, it doubtless embraced all that the two young people had to say to each other, for after exchanging these five words they separated. Marguerite with a look more dreamy than ever, and the Duke with an expression more radiant than before they had met. This little scene had occurred without the man who was the most interested in it having appeared to take the slightest notice of it, for the King of Navarre, on his side, had eyes but for one person, around whom was gathered a court almost as numerous as that of Marguerite de Valois; this person was the beautiful Madame de Sauve.

Charlotte de Beaune-Semblançay[37], grand-daughter of the unfortunate Semblançay and wife of Simon de Fizes, Baron de Sauve, was one of the ladies of the bedchamber to Catherine de Medici, and one of the most formidable auxiliaries of that Queen, who poured upon her enemies the philtre of love when she dared not employ the Florentine poison against them; small, jair, by turns sparkling with vivacity or languishing with melancholy, ever) ready for love and for intrigue, the two principal subjects which for the last fifty years had occupied the Courts of three kings in succession; a woman in the full acceptation of the word and in all its charm, from the blue eyes which languished or blazed with fire down to the tiny feet bent rebelliously into their velvet slippers, Madame de Sauve had already for several months entirely captivated the King of Navarre, who was then making his debut in the career of love, as in that of politics. So much so that Marguerite de Navarre, with her splendid and regal beauty, had not even moved her husband's heart to admiration; and, what was strange and surprising to everybody, even on the part of that lover of darkness and mystery, the Queen-Mother, was that Catherine de Medici, while pursuing her scheme of alliance between her daughter and the King of Navarre, had not ceased to countenance almost openly the intimacy between the latter and Madame de Sauve. But, spite of this powerful aid and of the easy-going morals of the time, the fair Charlotte had hitherto resisted his advances; and this resistance, so unexpected, so incredible, and so unheard-of, even more than her wit and beauty, had inflamed the heart of the Bearnais with a passion which, unable to find satisfaction, had fallen back upon itself and had devoured in the young Monarch's heart the timidity, the pride, and even the indifference, half philosophical, half idle, which lay at the bottom of his character.

Madame de Sauve had only entered the ball-room a few minutes earlier. Whether from spite or from annoyance, she had at first determined not to be a witness of her rival's triumph, and, alleging indisposition as an excuse, had allowed her husband, for five years one of the Secretaries of State, to come alone to the Louvre. Catherine de' Medici, however, on seeing the Baron without his wife, had inquired the reason which kept her beloved Charlotte away, and on hearing that the indisposition was but slight, wrote a few lines requesting her presence, and with this request the young woman had hastened to comply Henri, though at first quite woe-begone at her absence, had nevertheless breathed more freely on seeing M de Sauve enter by himsel, but at the moment when, having ceased to expect her appearance, he moved off with a sigh towards the lovely creature whom he was condemned, if not to love, at least to treat as his wife, he had seen Madame de Sauve emerging from the end of a corridor, and had remained rooted to the spot with his eyes fixed on this Circe, who enchained him to herself as though with a magic bond, and instead of continuing his progress towards his wife, with a movement of hesitation caused far more by surprise than by alarm, he advanced towards Madame de Sauve.

The courtiers, for their part seeing that the King of Navarre, the condition of whose heart they already knew, was making towards his fair Charlotte, had not the courage to prevent their meeting, but complacently made way, so that at the same moment when Marguerite de Valois and M. de Guise were exchanging the few words in Latin which we have reported, Henri, who had now reached Madame de Sauve, entered upon a much less mysterious conversation with her in quite intelligible French, though marked with something of a Gascon accent.

"Ah! my sweet!" said he, "here you are, come back, just as they were telling me that you were ill, and I had lost all hope of seeing you."

"Would your Majesty pretend to make me believe," answered Madame de Sauve, "that it cost you much to abandon that hope?"

"Zounds ! I should think so," answered the Bearnais; "do you not know that you are my sun by day and my star by night? Truly I thought myself plunged in the blackest darkness, when you appeared just now and of a sudden lit up the world for me."

"Then I am doing you a bad turn, Monseigneur."

"How mean you, sweet?" asked Henri.

"I mean that, being lord of the fairest woman in France, your sole desire should be for the light to give place to darkness, since it is the darkness which brings us happiness."

"That happiness, cruel creature, lies in the hands of one alone, as you know full well, and she laughs at her Henri, and makes him her sport."

"Oh!" replied the Baronne," I should have thought for my part that, on the contrary, it was she who is the plaything and the laughing-stock of the King of Navarre."

Henri was alarmed at her hostile attitude. He reflected, however, that it betokened pique, and that pique is but the mask which conceals love.

"Truly, dear Charlotte," said he, "you reproach me unjustly, and I do not understand how so sweet a mouth can be at the same time so cruel! Do you imagine, then, it was I who brought about my marriage? By the Lord! No, it was not my doing.'

"Perhaps it was mine!" replied the Baronne, harshly, if the voice of the woman who loves you, and who reproaches you with not loving her, can ever appear harsh.

"Have you not seen farther with those lovely eyes of yours, Baronne? No, no, it is not Henri de Navarre who weds Marguerite de Valois."

"And who, then?"

"Zounds! it is the Reformed Religion that is marrying the Pope, and nothing more."

"Nay, not so, Monseigneur, nor do I understand your jests: your Majesty loves the Lady Marguerite, and God forbid I should reproach you for it; she is beautiful enough to be loved."

Henri reflected for an instant, and while he reflected, a smile compressed the corners of his lips.

"Baronne," said he," you are trying to pick a quarrel with me, I fancy, and yet you have no right to do so; what have you done, I ask you, to prevent me from marrying the Lady Marguerite ? Nothing at all; on the contrary, you have always forbidden me to hope."

"And I was quite right in so doing, Monseigneur!" replied Madame de Sauve.

''How so?"

"Certainly, since to-day you have wedded another."

"Ah! I have wedded her because you do not love me."

"Had I loved you, sire, I must have died within an hour!"

"Within an hour! How mean you, and of what would you have died?"

"Of jealousy… for within an hour the Queen of Navarre will dismiss her ladies, and your Majesty your gentlemen."

"Is that really and truly the thought which troubles you, my sweet?"

"I do not say that. I said that, if I loved you, the thought would trouble me horribly."

"Well!" exclaimed Henri, overwhelmed with joy at hearing this avowal, the first he had received — "suppose the King of Navarre were not to dismiss his gentlemen to-night?"

"Sire," said Madame de Sauve, regarding the King with an astonishment which this time was not assumed, "you talk of what is impossible, nay more, incredible."

"What must I do to make you believe it?"

"You must give me the proof of it, and that proof you cannot give."

"Yes, Baronne, yes; by St. Henri! I will give it you, I will," cried the King, devouring the girl with a burning look of love.

"Oh, your Majesty!" murmured the fair Charlotte, lowering her voice and her eyes. . . "I do not understand. . . No, no! it is impossible that you should avoid the happiness awaiting you."

"There are four Henris in this room, my adored!" replied the King; "Henri of France, Henri of Conde, Henri of Guise, but only one Henri of Navarre."

"Well?"

"Well! if you have this Henri of Navarre near you all this night?"

"All this night?"

"Yes; will you then feel certain that he is with no other lady?"

"Ah! if you do that, sire!" exclaimed Madame de Sauve.

"I will do it, on the honour of a gentleman."

Madame de Sauve raised her large eyes moist with voluptuous promise, and smiled at the King, whose heart was elated with joy.

"Come," replied Henri, "what would you say in that case?"

"Oh! in that case," answered Charlotte, "I should say that your Majesty loved me really and truly."

"Zounds! then you shall say it, Baronne, for so it is."

"But how are we to act?" murmured Madame de Sauve.

"Great heavens! Baronne, you surely have some waiting-woman about you, some follower, some girl on whom you can depend?"

"Oh! I have Dariole, a regular treasure; she is so devoted to me that she would lay down her life for my sake."

"Zounds! Baronne, tell that girl that I will make her fortune when I am King of France, as the astrologers predict I am to be."

Charlotte smiled, for the Gascon reputation of Henri in regard to his promises was already well established.

"Well!" she said, "what do you want Dariole to do?"

"Nothing much for her, but everything for me."

"Go on?"

"Your apartment is above mine?"

"Yes."

"Let her wait behind the door. I will knock gently thrice; she must open the door, and then you shall have the proof which I have offered you."

Madame de Sauve maintained a silence that lasted a few moments; then, looking round as though to ensure that her words would not be overheard, she glanced for an instant at the group where the Queen-mother was standing; but though only for an instant, it was sufficient to enable Catherine and her lady of the bed-chamber to exchange glances.

"Oh! if I wished to catch your Majesty in an untruth," said Madame de Sauve, in siren tones that would have melted the wax in Ulysses's ears.

"Try me, my sweet, try."

"Ah! I confess that I am struggling against the desire to do so."

"Let yourself be conquered; women are never so strong as after their defeat."

"Sire, I hold you to your promise for Dariole on the day that you are King of France."

Henri uttered an exclamation of joy.

It was at the very moment that this exclamation left his lips that the Queen of Navarre replied to the Duc de Guise:

"Noctu pro more: To-night, as usual."

Upon which Henri left the side of Madame Sauve with a delight equal to that felt by the Duc de Guise as he left the side of Marguerite de Valois.

An hour after this two-fold incident, which we have just related. King Charles and the Queen-mother withdrew to their own apartments. Almost immediately the rooms began to empty, and the bases of the marble columns in the corridors became once more visible. The Admiral and the Prince de Conde were escorted home by four hundred Huguenot gentlemen through the crowds which hooted them as they passed. Presently Henri de Guise, accompanied by the Lorraine noblemen and the Catholics, came out in their turn and were greeted by the populace with shouts of joy and applause.

As for Marguerite de Valois, Henri de Navarre, and Madame de Sauve, they were lodged, as we know, in the Louvre itself.

_________

NOTES

Henri I de Lorraine, Duke of Guise, Prince of Joinville, Count of Eu (31 December 1550 – 23 December 1588), sometimes called Le Balafré ('Scarface'), was the eldest son of François, Duke of Guise, and Anna d'Este. His maternal grandparents were Ercole II d'Este, Duke of Ferrara, and Renée of France. Through his maternal grandfather, he was a descendant of Lucrezia Borgia and Pope Alexander VI. A key figure in the French Wars of Religion, he was one of the namesakes of the War of the Three Henrys. A powerful opponent of the queen mother, Catherine de' Medici, Henri was assassinated by the bodyguards of her son, King Henry III.

The Church of Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois (French pronunciation: [sɛ̃ ʒɛʁmɛ̃ losɛʁwa]) is a medieval Roman Catholic church in the 1st arrondissement of Paris, directly across from the Louvre Palace.

Margaret of Valois (French: Marguerite, 14 May 1553 – 27 March 1615), popularly known as La Reine Margot, was Queen of Navarre from 1572 to 1599 and Queen of France from 1589 to 1599 as the consort of Henry IV of France and III of Navarre. Margaret was the daughter of King Henry II of France and Catherine de' Medici and the sister of Kings Francis II, Charles IX and Henry III. Her union with Henry of Navarre, intended to contribute to the reconciliation of Catholics and Huguenots in France, was tarnished six days after the marriage ceremony by the St Bartholomew's Day massacre and the resumption of the French Wars of Religion. In the conflict between Henry III of France and the Malcontents, she took the side of Francis, Duke of Anjou, her younger brother, which caused Henry to have a deep aversion towards her.

Henry II (French: Henri II; 31 March 1519 – 10 July 1559) was King of France from 1547 until his death in 1559. The second son of Francis I and Claude, Duchess of Brittany, he became Dauphin of France upon the death of his elder brother Francis in 1536.

Charles IX (Charles Maximilien; 27 June 1550 – 30 May 1574) was King of France from 1560 until his death in 1574. He ascended the French throne upon the death of his brother Francis II in 1560, and as such was the penultimate monarch of the House of Valois. Charles' reign saw the culmination of decades of tension between Protestants and Catholics. Civil and religious war broke out between the two parties after the massacre of Vassy in 1562. In 1572, following several unsuccessful attempts at brokering peace, Charles arranged the marriage of his sister Margaret to Henry of Navarre, a major Protestant nobleman in the line of succession to the French throne, in a last desperate bid to reconcile his people. Facing popular hostility against this policy of appeasement and at the instigation of his mother Catherine de' Medici, Charles oversaw the massacre of numerous Huguenot leaders who gathered in Paris for the royal wedding, though his direct involvement is still debated. This event, known as the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre, was a significant blow to the Huguenot movement, and religious civil warfare soon began anew. Charles sought to take advantage of the disarray of the Huguenots by ordering the siege of La Rochelle, but was unable to take the Protestant stronghold.

Henry IV (French: Henri IV; 13 December 1553 – 14 May 1610), also known by the epithets Good King Henry (le Bon Roi Henri) or Henry the Great (Henri le Grand), was King of Navarre (as Henry III) from 1572 and King of France from 1589 to 1610. He was the first monarch of France from the House of Bourbon, a cadet branch of the Capetian dynasty. He pragmatically balanced the interests of the Catholic and Protestant parties in France, as well as among the European states. He was assassinated in Paris in 1610 by a Catholic zealot, and was succeeded by his son Louis XIII. Henry was baptised a Catholic but raised as a Huguenot in the Protestant faith by his mother, Queen Jeanne III of Navarre. He inherited the throne of Navarre in 1572 on his mother's death. As a Huguenot, Henry was involved in the French Wars of Religion, barely escaping assassination in the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre. He later led Protestant forces against the French royal army. Henry inherited the throne of France in 1589 upon the death of Henry III. Henry IV initially kept the Protestant faith (the only French king to do so) and had to fight against the Catholic League, which refused to accept a Protestant monarch. After four years of military stalemate, Henry converted to Catholicism, reportedly saying that "Paris is well worth a Mass". As a pragmatic politician (politique), he promulgated the Edict of Nantes (1598), which guaranteed religious liberties to Protestants, thereby effectively ending the French Wars of Religion.

Charles II of Bourbon (19 August, 1562 – 30 July, 1594), known as Cardinal de Vendôme and later as Cardinal de Bourbon, was a prince of the blood of the House of Bourbon. When his Protestant cousin became King Henry IV of France in 1589, he raised the hopes of Catholics hostile to the League and was a candidate for the crown of France.

Henri de Bourbon, 2nd Prince of Condé (29 December 1552 – 5 March 1588) was a French prince du sang and Huguenot general like his more prominent father, Louis I, Prince of Condé.

Duc d'Anjou - future King Henry III (French: Henri III, né Alexandre Édouard; Polish: Henryk Walezy; Lithuanian: Henrikas Valua; 19 September 1551 – 2 August 1589) was King of France from 1574 until his assassination in 1589, as well as King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania from 1573 to 1575.

Jarnac (French pronunciation: [ʒaʁnak]; Occitan: [d͡ʒaɾˈnak]; Saintongese: Jharnat) is a commune in the Charente department, southwestern France.[3] It was the site of the Battle of Jarnac in 1569.

François de Montesquiou. Captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou (the future Henri III of France); killed Louis I de Bourbon, Prince of Condé, as the latter was surrending during the battle of Jarnac in 1569.

Gaspard de Coligny, seigneur de Châtillon (French pronunciation: [ɡaspaʁ də kɔliɲi]; 16 February 1519 – 24 August 1572), was a French nobleman, Admiral of France, and Huguenot leader during the French Wars of Religion. He served under kings Francis I and Henry II during the Italian Wars, attaining great prominence both due to his military skill and his relationship with his uncle, the king's favourite Anne de Montmorency. During the reign of Francis II he converted to Protestantism, becoming a leading noble advocate for the Reformation during the early reign of Charles IX.

In the fourth encounter, Guise was about to take Orléans from the Huguenot supporters of Condé when he was wounded on 18 February 1563 by the Huguenot assassin, Jean de Poltrot de Méré, and died six days later, bled to death by his surgeons, at Château Corney.[15] In his testimony, Poltrot implicated Coligny and the Protestant pastor Théodore de Bèze. Though the assassin later retracted his statement and Coligny denied responsibility for Guise's death, a bitter feud arose between Guise's son Henry and Coligny, which culminated in the St Bartholomew's Day massacre.

Jean de Poltrot (c. 1537 – 1563), sieur de Méré or Mérey, was a French nobleman of Angoumois, who assassinated Francis, Duke of Guise in the aftermath of the massacre of Huguenots at Wassy.

Jeanne d'Albret (Spanish: Juana de Albret, Basque: Joana Albretekoa; Occitan: Joana de Labrit; 16 November 1528 – 9 June 1572), also known as Jeanne III, was Queen of Navarre from 1555 to 1572.

Antoine (Spanish: Antonio, Basque: Antonio, 22 April 1518 – 17 November 1562), sometimes called Antoine of Bourbon, was King of Navarre from 1555 until his death in 1562 as the husband and co-ruler of Queen Jeanne III.

Catherine de' Medici (Italian: Caterina de' Medici, pronounced [kateˈriːna de ˈmɛːditʃi]; French: Catherine de Médicis, pronounced [katʁin də medisis]; 13 April 1519 – 5 January 1589) was an Italian[a] Florentine noblewoman of the Medici family and Queen of France from 1547 to 1559 by marriage to King Henry II. She was the mother of French kings Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III. She was a cousin of Pope Clement VII. The years during which her sons reigned have been called "the age of Catherine de' Medici" since she had extensive, albeit at times varying, influence on the political life of France.

Ambroise Paré (French: [ɑ̃bʁwaz paʁe]; c. 1510 – 20 December 1590) was a French barber surgeon who served in that role for kings Henry II, Francis II, Charles IX and Henry III. He is considered one of the fathers of surgery and modern forensic pathology and a pioneer in surgical techniques and battlefield medicine, especially in the treatment of wounds. He was also an anatomist, invented several surgical instruments, and was a member of the Parisian barber surgeon guild.

Charles IX arranged his sister's marriage in hopes to bring peace between Catholics and Protestants.

Pope Gregory XIII (Latin: Gregorius XIII, Italian: Gregorio XIII, born Ugo Boncompagni; 7 January 1502 – 10 April 1585[b]) was head of the Catholic Church and ruler of the Papal States from 13 May 1572 to his death in April 1585. He is best known for commissioning and being the namesake for the Gregorian calendar, which remains the internationally accepted civil calendar to this day.

War in Flandres - A part of the Eighty Years' War, caused by the Reformation.

Charles de Téligny (c. 1535 – 24 August 1572) was a French soldier and diplomat.

François III, Count of La Rochefoucauld, prince of Marcillac, count of Roucy and baron of Verteuil (1521 – 24 August 1572) was a French courtier and soldier, serving as gentleman-in-ordinary to the king's chamber. He was a friend of Charles de Téligny and Louise de Coligny, serving as one of the witnesses to their marriage, whilst his humour and intelligence rendered him a favourite of Henry II of France and Charles IX of France. He is also notable as one of the Protestant leaders killed in the St. Bartholomew's Day massacre.

Henri de Montmorency, 3rd Duke of Montmorency (15 June 1534 in Chantilly, Oise – 2 April 1614), Marshal of France, and Constable of France, seigneur of Damville, served as Governor of Languedoc from 1563 to 1614.

Anne de Montmorency, duc de Montmorency (c. 1493 – 12 November 1567) was a French noble, governor, royal favourite and Constable of France during the mid to late Italian Wars and early French Wars of Religion. He served under five French kings (Louis XII, François I, Henri II, François II and Charles IX). Pushed to confront the Protestants, Montmorency died as a result of wounds sustained at the battle of Saint Denis on 12 November 1567.

Monsieur François, Duke of Anjou and Alençon (French: Hercule François; 18 March 1555[1] – 10 June 1584) was the youngest son of King Henry II of France and Catherine de' Medici.

The Battle of Moncontour occurred on 3 October 1569 between the royalist Catholic forces of King Charles IX of France, commanded by Henry, Duke of Anjou, and the Huguenots commanded by Gaspard de Coligny.

The Battle of Issus (also Issos) occurred in southern Anatolia, on 5 November 333 BC between the Hellenic League led by Alexander the Great and the Achaemenid Empire, led by Darius III. It was the second great battle of Alexander's conquest of Asia, and the first encounter between Darius III and Alexander the Great. The battle resulted in the Macedonian troops defeating the Persian forces.

The Battle of Pharsalus was the decisive battle of Caesar's Civil War fought on 9 August 48 BC near Pharsalus in Central Greece. Julius Caesar and his allies formed up opposite the army of the Roman Republic under the command of Pompey. Pompey had the backing of a majority of Roman senators and his army significantly outnumbered the veteran Caesarian legions.

Marie of Cleves or of Nevers (Marie de Clèves, Marie de Nevers; 1553–1574), by marriage the Princess of Condé, was the wife of Henry, Prince of Condé, and an early love interest of King Henry III of France. She was the last child of Francis I of Cleves, Duke of Nevers, and Marguerite of Bourbon-Vendôme, elder sister of Antoine of Navarre.

Charles de Lorraine, duc de Mayenne (26 March 1554 –3 October 1611)[1] was a French noble, governor, military commander and rebel during the latter French Wars of Religion.

Gaspard de Saulx, sieur de Tavannes (March 1509–June 1573) was a French Roman Catholic military leader during the Italian Wars and the French Wars of Religion. He served under four kings during his career, participating in the Siege of Calais (1558) and leading the royal army to victory in the third civil war at the battles of Jarnac and Moncontour.

Philip II (21 May 1527 – 13 September 1598), sometimes known in Spain as Philip the Prudent (Spanish: Felipe el Prudente), was King of Spain from 1556, King of Portugal from 1580, and King of Naples and Sicily from 1554 until his death in 1598. He was also jure uxoris King of England and Ireland from his marriage to Queen Mary I in 1554 until her death in 1558. Further, he was Duke of Milan from 1540. From 1555, he was Lord of the Seventeen Provinces of the Netherlands.

Battle of Arnay-le-Duc' on 27 June 1570: During the French Wars of Religion the Catholic armies of Artus de Cossé-Brissac (Marshal of Cossé) were beaten by the Protestant armies of Gaspard II de Coligny. This was the first military engagement of Henry of Navarre, the future Henri IV. Jean de La Taille was wounded.

Hannibal (/ˈhænɪbəl/; 247 – between 183 and 181 BC) was a Carthaginian general and statesman who commanded the forces of Carthage in their battle against the Roman Republic during the Second Punic War.

Henriette de La Marck (31 October 1542 – 24 June 1601), also known as Henriette of Cleves, was a French noblewoman and courtier. She was the 4th Duchess of Nevers, suo jure Countess of Rethel, and Princess of Mantua by her marriage with Louis I of Gonzaga-Nevers. A very talented landowner, she was one of France's chief creditors until her death.

Charlotte de Beaune Semblançay, Viscountess of Tours, Baroness de Sauve, Marquise de Noirmoutier (26 October 1551 – 30 September 1617) was a French noblewoman and a mistress of King Henry of Navarre, who later ruled as King Henry IV of France. She was a member of queen mother Catherine de' Medici's notorious "Flying Squadron" (L'escadron volant in French), a group of beautiful female spies and informants recruited to seduce important men at court, and thereby extract information to pass on to the Queen Mother.

nanashatum

I have read it since yesterday as the prequel of The Three Musketeers

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