were not much
influenced by conscientious considerations, but who were merely
struggling for political power.

When Henry first arrived in Paris, Catharine kept a constant watch
over his words and his actions. She spared no possible efforts to
bring him under her entire control. Efforts were made to lead his
teacher to check his enthusiasm for lofty exploits, and to surrender
him to the claims of frivolous amusement. This detestable queen
presented before the impassioned young man all the blandishments of
female beauty, that she might betray him to licentious indulgence. In
some of these infamous arts she was but too successful.

Catharine, in her ambitious projects, was often undecided as to which
cause she should espouse and which party she should call to her aid.
At one time she would favor the Protestants, and again the Catholics.
At about this time she suddenly turned to the Protestants, and
courted them so decidedly as greatly to alarm and exasperate the
Catholics. Some of the Catholic nobles formed a conspiracy, and seized
Catharine and her son at the palace of Fontainebleau, and held them
both as captives. The proud queen was almost frantic with indignation
at the insult.

The Protestants, conscious that the conspiracy was aimed against them,
rallied for the defense of the queen. The Catholics all over the
kingdom sprang to arms. A bloody civil war ensued. Nearly all Europe
was drawn into the conflict. Germany and England came with eager
armies to the aid of the Protestants. Catharine hated the proud and
haughty Elizabeth, England's domineering queen, and was very jealous
of her fame and power. She resolved that she would not be indebted to
her ambitious rival for aid. She therefore, most strangely, threw
herself into the arms of the _Catholics_, and ardently espoused their
cause. The Protestants soon found her, with all the energy of her
powerful mind, heading their foes. France was deluged in blood.

A large number of Protestants threw themselves into Rouen. Antony of
Bourbon headed an army of the Catholics to besiege the city. A ball
struck him, and he fell senseless to the ground. His attendants placed
him, covered with blood, in a carriage, to convey him to a hospital.
While in the carriage and jostling over the rough ground, and as the
thunders of the cannonade were pealing in his ears, the spirit of the
blood-stained soldier ascended to the tribunal of the God of Peace.
Henry was now left fatherless