a work that was
too foul even for the blackest midnight. Restraint of every kind was
thrown aside, and while the men were the victims of bigoted fury, the
women were exposed to violence unutterable. As if the popular frenzy
needed excitement, Marshal Tavannes, the military director of this deed
of treachery, rode through the streets with dripping sword, shouting:
"Kill! Kill! Bloodletting is as good in August as in May." One would
charitably hope that this was the language of excitement, and that in
his calmer moods he would have repented of his share in the massacre.
But he was consistent to the last. On his death-bed he made a general
confession of his sins, in which he did not mention the day of St.
Bartholomew; and when his son expressed surprise at the omission, he
observed, "I look upon that as a meritorious action, which ought to
atone for all the sins of my life."

The massacre soon exceeded the bounds upon which Charles and his mother
had calculated. They were willing enough that the Huguenots should be
murdered; but the murderers might not always be able to draw the line
between orthodoxy and heresy. Things were fast getting beyond all
control; the thirst for plunder was even keener than the thirst for
blood. And it is certain that among the many ignoble motives by which
Charles was induced to permit the massacre, was the hope of enriching
himself and paying his debts out of the property of the murdered
Huguenots. Nor were Anjou and others insensible to the charms of
heretical property. Hence we find the provost of Paris remonstrating
with the King about "the pillaging of the houses and the murders in the
streets by the guards and others in the service of his majesty and the
princes." Charles, in reply, bade the magistrates "mount their horses,
and with all the force of the city put an end to such irregularities,
and remain on the watch day and night." Another proclamation,
countersigned by Nevers, was issued about five in the afternoon,
commanding the people to lay down the arms which they had taken up "that
day by the King's orders," and to leave the streets to the soldiers
only--as if implying that they alone were to kill and plunder.

The massacre, commenced on Sunday, was continued through that and the
two following days. Capilupi tells us, with wonderful simplicity, "that
it was a holiday, and therefore the people could more conveniently find
leisure to kill and plunder." It is impossible to assign to