arrival of his associates; at length the Duke of Guise resolved to head a body of the guards, and himself to perform the horrid butchery. He advanced to the gate of the suburbs; behold, strange mistake! — wrong keys were brought; the right keys were to be sought for; much time was lost: the morning appeared, and discovered to the too loyal Huguenot nobility a detachment of guards crossing the river in boats, the Duke of Guise himself being at their head; and they heard a firing from the windows of the palace, which was now understood to be, by royal command, against the Huguenots — for, as Guise was commanding the guards, they must be supposed to be acting against his adversaries. These nobles, struck dumb with astonishment, soon recovered the use of their faculties so far as to resolve on instant flight as their only security, and they exerted themselves so effectually as to escape the Duke of Guise’s pursuit, sailed to England, and raised their swords in many a future day of fair battle, and obtained victories against a perfidious tyrant who, by firing on his unarmed innocent subjects, in the hour of peace and of generous confidence in his solemn oaths, had forfeited all the rights of sovereignty and even of common humanity.”
It appears from the Vidame’s own statement that the Duke of Guise actually entered his house before he could escape, but that he concealed himself, and at length secretly got access to the King, who gave him a safe-conduct. Instead of being again duped, and going home to be murdered, as the King intended, he used the royal autograph as a passport to the coast of France, and sailed to England, where he landed on the 7th September. He wrote a Latin letter to Lord Burghley (Strype’s Parker, Appendix No. 70), of which the following is a translation:—
“My most honoured Lord, — I have been delivered from the Parisian executions, and have slipped out of the hands of Guise, who first pursued me into my very house, and afterwards wove every kind of snare around me. At length, when they thought me inveigled by the King’s safeguard, and it was reported to them that I was at home, they hasten to assault me with open violence. But God, by His favour, has infatuated their counsel, and brought me to the sea unknown to myself; and having embarked on board ship. He has led me hither to you. Nothing, next to the avenging of this impious crime, is so desired by me as to come into the presence of her Majesty, on whose piety, power, and prudent counsel, evidently depends the only hope of curbing that fury so openly spreading in the Christian world. However much I may be carried away by my great desire, I have been unwilling to approach the Queen inopportunely and indiscreetly. I shall wait her Majesty’s resolution. In the meantime I shall inform my family how happily God has provided for my safety. I shall write to the King (although I shudder intensely at the thought of him) that, if I can, I may soothe his savage heart, that he may not proceed to more cruel measures against my wife on account of what may appear to him my contempt of his promise to me as to my safety — a promise not free from subtlety and remarkable imposture — yet the blame of such contempt I must fling back upon another. May God give counsel, who has already given succour, and has brought me to a safe port. Beyond measure I desire to see and hear for myself how your people are affected by such an unheard-of calamity. Meanwhile I ask your Lordship to recal to her Majesty’s memory my most humble devotion to her, of which the future shall witness the continuance. You, my Lord, will be the medium of great consolation to me if I may understand from you that her Majesty sympathises with us, and does so abhor such great perfidy that her soul cannot bear an_y outward dissimulation regarding it. Not that I doubt that herself shudders at the mere thought of it. But I fear that by using too mild language concerning it she may contribute new life to the butchers, who may affect not to hear the mutterings of neighbouring princes. I wish, and I believe it will be realised, that the princes will show themselves to be the persons they ought to be. Not the least punishment that these butchers can feel will be the fear of future vengeance. Do not believe that they can be rendered tractable by smooth oratory; they will be ever more and more insolent if they are gently dealt with it. I avow that the national sentiment concerning them should be disclosed not by words alone but by
