Murder of Huguenot nobles in the Louvre.
While the murder of Coligny was in course of execution, or but shortly after, a tragedy not less atrocious was enacted in the royal palace itself. A number of Huguenot gentlemen of the highest distinction were lodged in the Louvre. Charles, after the admiral's wound, had suggested to the King of Navarre that he would do well to invite some of his friends to act as a guard against any attack that might be made upon him by the Duke of Guise, whom he characterized as a "mauvois garçon."999 Late on Saturday night, as Margaret of Valois informs us in her Memoirs, and long after she and her husband had retired, these Huguenot lords, gathered around Henry of Navarre's bed to the number of thirty, had discussed the occurrences of the last two eventful days, and declared their purpose to go to the king on the morrow and demand the punishment of the Guises. Margaret herself had been purposely kept in ignorance of the plan for the extirpation of the Protestants. For, if the Huguenots suspected her, because she was a Roman Catholic, the papists suspected her equally because she had married a Protestant. On parting with her mother for the night, her elder sister Claude, Duchess of Lorraine, who happened to be on a visit to the French court, had vainly attempted to detain Margaret, expressing with tears the apprehension that some evil would befall her. But Catharine had peremptorily sent her to bed, assuring her with words which, seen in the light of subsequent revelations, approach the climax of profanity: "That, if God pleased, she would receive no injury."1000 So deep was the impression of impending danger made upon Margaret's mind, that she remained awake, she tells us, until morning, when her husband arose, saying that he would go and divert himself with a game of tennis until Charles should awake. After his departure, the Queen of Navarre, relieved of her misgivings, as the night was now spent, ordered her maid to lock her door, and composed herself to sleep.1001
Meantime the Protestant gentlemen who accompanied Navarre, and all the others who lodged in the Louvre, had been disarmed by Nançay, captain of the guard. In this defenceless condition ten or twelve of their number were conducted, one by one, to the gate of the building. Here soldiers stood in readiness, and despatched them with their halberds as they successively made their appearance. Such was the fate of the brave Pardaillan, of St. Martin, of Boursis, of Beauvais, former tutor of Henry of Navarre, and of others; some of whom in a loud voice called upon Charles, whom they saw at a window, an approving spectator of the butchery, to remember the solemn pledges he had given them. M. de Piles – that brave Huguenot captain, whose valor, if it did not save St. Jean d'Angely in the third civil war, had at least detained the entire Roman Catholic army for seven weeks before fortifications that were none of the best, and rendered Moncontour a field barren of substantial fruits1002– was the object of special hatred, and his conduct was particularly remarked for its magnanimity. Observing among the bystanders a Roman Catholic acquaintance in whose honor he might perhaps confide, he stripped himself of his cloak, and would have handed it to him, with the words: "De Piles makes you a present of this; remember hereafter the death of him who is now so unjustly put to death!" "Mon capitaine," answered the other, fearful of incurring the enmity of Catharine and Charles, "I am not of the company of these persons. I thank you for your cloak; but I cannot take it upon such conditions." The next moment M. de Piles fell, pierced by the halberd of one of the archers of the guard. "These are the men," cried the murderers at their bloody work, "who resorted to violence, in order to kill the king afterward."1003 One of the victims marked out for the slaughter escaped the death of his fellows. Margaret of Valois had not been long asleep, when her slumbers were rudely disturbed by loud blows struck upon the door, and shouts of "Navarre! Navarre!" Her attendant, supposing it to be Henry himself, hastily opened the door; when there rushed in instead, a Huguenot nobleman, the Viscount de Léran,1004 wounded in the arm by sword and halberd, and pursued by four archers. In his terror he threw himself on Margaret's bed, and when she jumped up, in doubt of what could be the meaning of this strange incident, he clung to her night-dress which was drenched with his blood. Nançay angrily reproved the indiscretion of his soldiers, and Margaret, leaving the Huguenot in her room to have his wounds dressed, suffered herself to be conducted to the chamber of her sister, the Duchess of Lorraine. It was but a few steps; but, on the way, a Huguenot was killed at three paces' distance from her, and two others – the first gentleman of the King of Navarre, and his first valet-de-chambre – ran to her imploring her to save their lives. She sought and obtained the favor on her knees before Catharine and Charles.1005 A few other Huguenots who were in the Louvre were ready to purchase their lives at any price, even to that of abjuring their faith. They obtained pardon on promising the king to comply with all his commands; and this, we are told, "the more easily, as Charles very well knew that they had little or no religion."1006
Navarre and Condé spared.
The King of Navarre and the Prince of Condé were spared, although there were not wanting those who would gladly have seen the ruin of the family of Bourbon. Navarre was brother-in-law of Charles, and Condé of the Duke of Nevers; this may have guaranteed their safety. Both of the young princes, however, were summoned into the king's presence, where Charles, acknowledging the murder of Coligny, the great cause of disturbances, and the similar acts then perpetrated throughout the city, as sanctioned by his authority, sternly told the two youths that he intended no longer to tolerate two religions in his dominions. He desired them, therefore, to conform to that creed which had been professed by all his predecessors, and which he intended to uphold. They must renounce the profane doctrines they had embraced, and return to the Catholic and Roman religion. If they refused, they must expect to suffer the treatment which had just been experienced by so many others.1007
The replies of the two princes were singularly unlike. Henry of Navarre, bold enough where only physical bravery was demanded, exhibited for the first time that lamentable absence of moral courage which was to render his life, in its highest relations, a splendid failure. His countenance betrayed agitation and faint-heartedness.1008 With great "humility" – almost whining, it would appear – he begged that his own life and the life of Condé might be spared, and reminded Charles of his promised protection. "He would act," he said, "so as to satisfy his Majesty; yet he besought him to remember that conscience was a great thing, and that it was hard to renounce the religion in which one had been brought up from infancy." On the other hand, Henry of Condé, in no way abashed,1009 declared "that he could not believe that his royal cousin intended to violate a promise confirmed by so solemn an oath. As to fealty, he had always been an obedient subject of the king, and would ever be. Touching his religion, if the king had given him the exercise of its worship, God had given him the knowledge of it; and to Him he must needs give up an account. So far as his body and his possessions were concerned, they were in the king's hands to dispose of as he might choose. Yet it was his own determination to remain constant in his religion, which he would always maintain to be the true religion, even should he be compelled to lay down his life for it." So stout an answer kindled the anger of Charles, who was in no mood to meet with opposition. He called Condé "a rebel," "a seditious man," and "the son of a seditious father," and warned him that he would lose his head, if, within three days, he should not think better of the matter.1010
The massacre becomes general.
And now the great bell of the "Palais de Justice" pealed forth the tocsin. About the Louvre the work of blood had begun when Catharine, impatient, and fearful lest Charles's resolution should again waver at the last moment, gave orders to anticipate the appointed time by ringing the bell of the neighboring church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois. But now the loud and unusual clangor from the tower of the parliament house carried the warning far and wide. All Paris awoke. The conspirators everywhere recognized the stipulated signal, and spread among the excited townsmen the wildest and most extravagant reports. A foul plot, formed by the Huguenots, against the king, his mother, and his brothers, had come to light. They had killed more than fifteen of the royal guards. The king, therefore, commanded that quarter should not be given to a single Huguenot.1011
Nothing more was needed to inflame the popular hatred of the Huguenots, nor to prepare the rabble for an indiscriminate slaughter of the Protestants.
La Rochefoucauld and Téligny fall.
Among the earliest victims of this day of carnage was Count de la Rochefoucauld. This witty and lively young noble had been in the Louvre until a late hour on Saturday night, diverting himself with the king, with whom he was a great favorite. Apparently in his anxiety to save La Rochefoucauld's life, Charles invited, and even urged him, to spend the night in the royal "garde-robe;" but the count, suspecting no danger, insisted on returning to his lodgings, while the king reluctantly abandoned his boon companion to his fate, rather than betray his secret. Early awakened from his sleep at his lodgings by loud knocking at the door and by demands for admission in the king's name, and seeing a band of masked men enter, he recalled Charles's threat at parting, that he would come and administer to him a whipping. The practical joke would not have been unlike many of the mad antics of the royal jester, and La Rochefoucauld, addressing himself to the person whom he supposed to be his Majesty in disguise, begged him to treat him with humanity. His deception was not long continued; for the maskers, after rifling his trunks, drew him from his place of concealment and murdered him. His lifeless body was dragged through the streets of Paris.1012
Téligny was, perhaps, even more unfortunate than the rest, because he awoke too late to the fact that his own blind confidance in the word of a faithless prince had been a chief instrument of involving his father-in-law and his friends in destruction. He was among the first to pay the penalty of his credulity. More than one of the parties sent to destroy him, it is said, overcome by compassion for his youth and manly beauty, or by respect for his graceful manners and extraordinary learning, left their commission unexecuted. To avoid further peril, he ascended to the roof, from which he made his way to an adjoining house; but he had not gone far before he was seen and shot with an arquebuse by one of the Duke of Anjou's guards.1013
Self-defense of a few nobles.
The Huguenots, attacked in the midst of their slumbers by the courtiers and the soldiers of the royal guard,1014 among whom were prominent the Swiss of Charles or his brother, or by the people of Paris, who every moment swelled the ranks of the assassins, were too much taken by surprise to offer even the slightest resistance. Guerchy, the same gentleman who had offered his services to Coligny the night before, is almost the only man reported to have fought for his life. With his sword in his right hand, and winding his cloak around his left arm, he defended himself for a long time, though the breastplates of his enemies were proof against his blows. At last, he fell, overborne by numbers.1015 The Lieutenant de la Mareschaussée, if not more determined, was better prepared for the combat. All day long, with a single soldier as his comrade, he defended his house against the assailants, expecting at every moment to be relieved from his perilous situation by the king. But, far from meriting such confidence on the part of his subjects, Charles was indignant at his prolonged resistance, and sent a powerful detachment of guards, with orders to bring him the lieutenant's head. The brave Huguenot, however, still maintained the unequal siege, and fought till his last breath. The soldiers had only the poor satisfaction of pillaging his house, of dragging his sick daughter naked through the streets until she died of maltreatment, and of wounding and imprisoning his wife.1016
Victims of personal hatred.
Personal hatred, jealousy, cupidity, mingled with religious and political zeal, and private ends were attained in fulfilling the king's murderous commands. Bussy d'Amboise, meeting his Protestant cousin, the Marquis de Renel (half-brother of the late Prince of Porcien), by a well-directed blow with his poniard rid himself of an unpleasant suit at law which Renel had come to Paris to prosecute.
Adventure of young La Force.
The case of Caumont de la Force was still more revolting. His daughter, Madame de la Châtaigneraie, in accordance with the shameless code of morals in vogue at the French court, had taken for her lover Archan, captain of the guard of Henry of Anjou; and it was to gratify her covetousness that Archan obtained from the Duke the order to despatch La Force and his two sons. The plan was successfully executed so far as the father and his elder son were concerned. The second, a boy of twelve, escaped by his remarkable presence of mind and self-control. Certain that his youth would excite no pity in the breast of his inhuman assailants, when his father and his brother fell at his side and he perceived himself covered with their blood, he dropped down with the exclamation that he was dead. So perfectly did he counterfeit death, all that long day, that, although his body was examined by successive bands of plunderers, and deprived not only of every valuable, but even of its clothing, he did not by a motion betray that he was alive. Most of these persons applauded the crime. It was well, they said, to kill the little wolves with the greater. But, toward evening, a more humane person came, who, while engaged in drawing off a stocking which had been left on the boy's foot, gave expression to his abhorrence of the bloody deed. To his astonishment the boy raised his head, and whispered, "I am not dead." The compassionate man at once commanded him not to stir, and went home; but as soon as it was dark he returned with a cloak, which he threw about young La Force's shoulders, and bade him follow. It was no easy matter to thread the streets unmolested; but his guide dispelled the suspicions of those who questioned him respecting the boy by declaring that it was his nephew whom he had found drunk, and was going to whip soundly for it. In the end the young nobleman reached the arsenal, where his relative, Marshal Biron, was in command. Even there, however, the avarice of his unnatural sister pursued him. Vexed that, on account of his preservation, she must fail to secure the entire inheritance of the family, Madame de la Châtaigneraie tried to effect herself what she had not been able to do by means of another; she visited the marshal in the arsenal, and, after expressing great joy that her brother had been saved, begged to be permitted to see and care for him. Biron thought it necessary, in order to preserve the boy's life, to deny her request.1017
Pitiless butchery.
The frenzy that had fallen upon Paris affected all classes alike. Every feeling of pity seemed to have been blotted out. Natural affection disappeared. A man's foes were those of his own household. On the plea of religious zeal the most barbarous acts were committed. Spire Niquet, a poor bookbinder, whose scanty earnings barely sufficed to support the wants of his seven children, was half-roasted in a bonfire made of his own books, and then dragged to the river and drowned.1018 The weaker sex was not spared in the universal carnage, and, as in a town taken by assault, suffered outrages that were worse than death. Matron and maiden alike welcomed as merciful the blow that liberated them from an existence now rendered insupportable. Women approaching maternity were selected for more excruciating torments, and savage delight was exhibited in destroying the unborn fruit of the womb. Nor was any rank respected. Madame d'Yverny, the niece of Cardinal Briçonnet, was recognized, as she fled, by the costly underclothing that appeared from beneath the shabby habit of a nun which she had assumed; and, after suffering every indignity, upon her refusal to go to mass, was thrown from a bridge into the Seine and drowned.1019 Occasionally the women rivalled the cruelty of the men. A poor carpenter, of advanced age, with whom the author of the "Tocsain contre les massacreurs" was personally acquainted, had been taken by night and cast into the river. He swam, however, to a bridge, and succeeded in climbing up by its timbers, and so fled naked to the house of a relative near the "Cousture Sainte Catherine," where his wife had taken refuge. But, instead of welcoming him, his wife drove him away, and he was soon recaptured and killed.1020 It is related that the daughter of one Jean de Coulogne, a mercer of the "Palais," betrayed her own mother to death, and subsequently married one of the murderers.1021 The very innocence of childhood furnished no sufficient protection – so literally did the pious Catholics of Paris interpret the oft-repeated exhortations of their holy father to exterminate not only the roots of heresy, but the very fibres of the roots.1022 Two infants, whose parents had just been murdered, were carried in a hod and cast into the Seine. A little girl was plunged naked in the blood of her father and mother, with horrible oaths and threats that, if she should become a Huguenot, the like fate would befall her. And a crowd of boys, between nine and ten years of age, was seen dragging through the streets the body of a babe yet in its swaddling-clothes, which they had fastened to a rope by means of a belt tied about its neck.1023
Shamelessness of the court ladies.
Anjou encourages the assassins.
The bodies of the more inconspicuous victims lay for hours in whatever spot they happened to be killed; but the court required ocular demonstration that the leaders of the Huguenots who had been most prominent in the late wars were really dead. Accordingly the naked corpses of Soubise, of Guerchy, of Beaudiné, d'Acier's brother, and of others, were dragged from all quarters to the square in front of the Louvre. There, as an indignant contemporary writes, extended in a long row, they lay exposed to the view of the varlets, of whom when alive they had been the terror.1024 Cruelty and lust are twin sisters: when the one is at hand, the other is generally not far distant. The court of Catharine de' Medici was noted for its impurity, as it was infamous for its recklessness of human life. It was not out of keeping with its general reputation that toward evening a bevy of ladies – among them the queen mother – tripped down the palace stairs to feast their eyes upon the sight of the uncovered dead.1025 Indeed, the king, the queen mother, and their intimate friends seemed to be in an ecstasy of joy. They indulged in boisterous laughter1026 as the successive reports of the municipal authorities, from hour to hour, brought in tidings of the extent of the massacre.1027 "The war is now ended in reality," they were heard to say, "and we shall henceforth live in peace."1028 The Duke of Anjou took a more active part. In the street and on the Pont de Notre Dame he was to be seen encouraging the assassins.1029 The Duke of Montpensier was surpassed by no one in his zealous advocacy of the murderous work. "Let every man exert himself to the utmost," he cried, as he rode through the streets, "if he wishes to prove himself a good servant to the king."1030 Tavannes, if we may believe Brantôme's account, endeavored to rival him, and, all day long, as he rode about amid the carnage, amused himself by facetiously crying to the people: "Bleed! Bleed! The doctors say that bleeding is as good in the month of August as in May."1031
Of the Duke of Alençon it was noticed that, alone of Catharine's sons, he took no part in the massacre. The Protestants even regarded him as their friend, and the rumor was current that the pity he exhibited excited the indignation of his mother and brothers. Indeed, Catharine, it was said, openly told him that, if he ventured to meddle with her plans, she would put him in a sack and throw him into the river.1032
Wonderful escapes.
Of the pastors of the Church of Paris, it was noticed as a remarkable circumstance that but two – Buirette and Desgorris – were killed; for it was certain that no lives were more eagerly sought than theirs.1033 But several Protestant pastors had wonderful escapes. The celebrated D'Espine – the converted monk who took part in the Colloquy of Poissy – was in company with Madame d'Yverny when her disguise was discovered, but he was not recognized.1034 In the case of Merlin, chaplain of Admiral Coligny, the divine interposition seemed almost as distinct as in that of the prophet Elijah. After reluctantly leaving Coligny, at his earnest request, and clambering over the roof of a neighboring house, he fell through an opening into a garret full of hay. Not daring to show himself, since he knew not whether he would encounter friends or foes, he remained for three days in this retreat, his sole food an egg which a hen daily laid within his reach.1035
The future minister of Henry the Fourth, Maximilien de Béthune, Duke of Sully, at this time a boy of twelve and a student in the college of Burgundy in Paris, has left us in his "Economies royales" a thrilling account of his escape. Awakened, about three o'clock in the morning, by the uproar in the streets, his tutor and his valet-de-chambre went out to learn the occasion of it, and never returned. They were doubtless among the first victims. Sully's trembling host – a Protestant who consented through fear to abjure his faith – now came in, and advised the youth to save his life by going to mass. Sully was not prepared to take this counsel, and, so putting on his scholar's gown, he ventured upon the desperate step of trying to reach the college. A horrible scene presented itself to view. Everywhere men were breaking into houses, or slaughtering their captives in the public streets, while the cry of "Kill the Huguenots" was heard on all sides. Sully himself owed his preservation to two thick volumes of "Heures" – Romish books of devotion – which he had the presence of mind to take under his arm, and which effectually disarmed the suspicions of the three successive bands of soldiers that stopped him. At the college, after with difficulty gaining admission, he incurred still greater danger. Happily the principal, M. Du Faye, was a kind-hearted man. In vain was he urged, by two priests who were his guests, to surrender the Huguenot boy to death, saying that the order was to massacre even the very babes at the breast. Du Faye would not consent; and after having secretly kept Sully locked up for three days in a closet, he found means to restore him to his friends.1036
Death of the philosopher Ramus.
No loss was more sensibly felt by the scientific world than that of the learned Pierre de la Ramée, or Ramus, a philosopher second to none of his day. The professor might possibly have escaped if his only offence had been his Protestant views; but Ramus had had the temerity to attack Aristotle, and to attempt to reform the faulty pronunciation of the Latin language. For these unpardonable sins he was tracked to the cellar in which he had hidden, by a band of robbers under the guidance of Jacques Charpentier, a jealous rival, with whom he had had acrimonious discussions. After being compelled to give up a considerable sum of money, he was despatched with daggers, and thrown from an upper window into the court of his college. Never was philosophic heterodoxy more thoroughly punished; for if the whipping, dragging through the filthy streets, and dismembering of a corpse by indignant students with the approval of their teachers, could atone for such grave errors, the anger of the illustrious Stagirite must have been fully appeased. If anything can clearly exhibit the depth of moral degradation to which Roman Catholic France had fallen, it is the fact that Charpentier unblushingly accepted the praise which was liberally showered upon him for his participation in this disgraceful affair.1037
President Pierre de la Place.
Scarcely less signal a misfortune to France was the murder of Pierre de la Place, president of the Cour d'Aides, whose excellent "Commentaries on the State of Religion and the Republic" constitute one of our best guides through the short reign of Francis the Second and the early part of the reign of Charles the Ninth. This eminent jurist, even more distinguished as a writer on Christian morals than as a historian, had first embraced the Reformation at a time when the recent martyrdom of Anne du Bourg served as a significant reminder of the perils attending a profession of Protestant views. President de la Place had been visited in his house early in the morning, on the first day of the massacre, by Captain Michel, an arquebusier of the king, who, entering boldly with his weapons and with the white napkin bound on his left arm, informed him of the death of Coligny, and the fate in reserve for the rest of the Huguenots. The soldier pretended that the king wished to exempt La Place from the general slaughter, and bade him accompany him to the Louvre. However, a gift of a thousand crowns induced the fellow instead to lead the president's daughter and her husband to a place of safety in the house of a Roman Catholic friend. But La Place himself, after having applied at three different houses belonging to persons of his acquaintance and been denied admission, was compelled to return to his home and there await his doom. A day passed, during which La Place and his wife were subjected to constant alarms. At length new orders came in the king's name, enjoining upon him without fail to repair instantly to the palace. The meaning was unmistakable; it was the road to death. But neither the Huguenot's piety nor his courage failed him. He gently raised his wife, who had fallen on her knees to beg the messenger to save her husband's life, and reminded her that she should have recourse to God alone, not to an arm of flesh. And he sternly rebuked his eldest son, who, in a moment of weakness, had placed a white cross on his hat, in the hope of saving his life. "The true cross we must wear," he said, "is the trials and afflictions sent to us by God as sure pledges of the bliss and eternal life He has prepared for His own followers." It was with unruffled composure that he bade his weeping friends farewell. His apprehensions were soon realized; he was despatched by murderers who had been waiting for him, and before long his body was floating down the Seine toward the sea.1038
Regnier and Vezins.
From such instances of inhumanity it is a relief to turn to one of a few incidents wherein the finer feelings triumphed over prejudice, difference of religious tenets, and even personal hatred. There were in Paris two gentlemen, named Vezins and Regnier, of good families in the province of Quercy in southern France. Both were equally distinguished for their valor; but their dispositions were singularly unlike, for while the Huguenot Regnier was noted for his gentle manners, the Roman Catholic Vezins, who was lieutenant of the governor, the Viscount of Villars, had acquired unenviable notoriety because of his ferocity. Between the two there had for some time existed a mortal feud, which their common friends had striven in vain to heal. While the massacre was at its height, Regnier was visited by his enemy, Vezins. The latter, after effecting an entrance into the house by breaking down the door, fiercely ordered the Huguenot – who, well assured that his last hour was come, had fallen upon his knees to implore the mercy of God – to rise and follow him. A horse stood saddled at the door, upon which Regnier was told to mount. In his enemy's train he rode unharmed through the streets of Paris, then through the gates of the city. Still Vezins, without vouchsafing a word of explanation, kept on his way toward Cahors, the capital of Quercy, whither he had been despatched by the government.1039 For many successive days the journey lasted. The prisoner was well guarded, but he was also well lodged and fed. At last the party reached the very castle of Regnier, and here his captor broke the long silence. "As you have seen," said he, "it would have depended only on myself to take advantage of the opportunity which I have long been seeking; but I should be ashamed to avenge myself in this way upon a man so brave as you. In settling our quarrel I desire that the danger shall be equal. Be well assured that you will find me as ready to decide our dispute in a manner becoming gentlemen, as I have been eager to save you from inevitable destruction." It need scarcely be said that the Huguenot could not find words sufficiently strong to express his gratitude; but Vezins merely replied: "I leave it to you to choose whether you wish me to be your friend or your enemy; I saved your life only to enable you to make your election." With these words he abruptly left him and rode away, nor would he ever consent even to take back the horse upon which he had brought Regnier in safety so many leagues.1040
Escape of Montgomery and Chartres.
Charles himself fires at them from the Louvre.
A number of the Huguenot noblemen were lodged on the southern side of the Seine, outside of the walls, in the Faubourg Saint Germain. Count Montgomery, the Vidame of Chartres, Beauvoir la Nocle, and Frontenay, a member of the powerful Rohan family, were among the most distinguished. After the admiral, there were certainly no Huguenots whom Catharine was more anxious to destroy than Montgomery and Chartres. Accordingly the massacre, which began near the Louvre, was to have been executed simultaneously upon them, and the work was intrusted to M. de Maugiron. But the delay of the Roman Catholics saved them. Marcel, the former prévôt des marchands, who had been instructed to furnish one thousand men, was not ready in time; and Dumas, who was to have acted as guide, overslept the appointed hour. About five o'clock in the morning a Huguenot succeeded in swimming across the river, and carried to Montgomery the first tidings of the events of the last two hours. The count at once notified his comrades, but, although there were among them those who had been most urgent to leave Paris immediately after Maurevel's attack upon Coligny, few of the nobles would harbor the thought that Charles was so lost to honor as to have plotted the assassination of his invited guests. They preferred to believe that the king was himself in danger through a sudden commotion occasioned by the Guises. Acting upon this theory, the Huguenots proceeded in a body toward the Seine, intending to cross and lend assistance to the royal cause; but, on reaching the river's bank, they were speedily undeceived. They saw a band of two hundred soldiers of the royal guard coming toward them in boats, and discharging their arquebuses, with cries of "Tue! Tue!" – "Kill! Kill!" Charles himself was descried at a window of the Louvre, looking with approval upon the scene. There is good authority also, for the story that, in his eagerness to exterminate the Huguenots, Charles snatched an arquebuse from the hand of an attendant, and fired at them, exclaiming, "Let us shoot, mort Dieu, they are fleeing!"1041