The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre
August 24, 1572. Catholics kill thousands of Protestants in Paris in one of the most notorious religious massacres in European history.
Cold Open
It’s the afternoon of June 30th, 1559, on a tournament field in Paris, France.
In a richly decorated grandstand above the arena, 40-year-old Catherine de’ Medici raises a feather fan and stirs the warm summer air around her. As queen, she has a fine view of the field. Everywhere she looks, there are colorful banners fluttering in the breeze and knights in gleaming armor patiently awaiting their turn in the arena.
But behind her polite smiles and courtly manners, Catherine is not happy. At the far end of the field, her husband, King Henry II, has mounted his charger and locked his lance into position beneath his arm.
Catherine and the king’s other advisers have urged him not to take part in this tournament. But Henry loves jousting and insisted.
A herald raises his hand, and the crowd falls silent.
There’s a blast of trumpets. Then Henry drives his horse forward.
His opponent charges toward him.
And as the riders pass each other, their lances clatter off each other’s shields. Neither man is dismounted, so both continue to the end of the course.
There’s applause from the crowd, and Catherine beats her fan a little harder. But the joust is not over yet.
The trumpets sound again, and the two men charge back toward each other.
The riders meet, and this time, the king’s opponent scores a direct hit. There’s an explosion of wood as his lance strikes Henry’s shoulder, glances into his helmet, and shatters. Henry’s horse carries him on, but the king is reeling in the saddle. His lance drops, and he claws at his helmet as blood streams down his neck into his armor.
Catherine sits up straighter, and her fan falls still. Even she can’t mask her concern. Down on the field, attendants rush forward and help Henry down from his horse.
They peel off his helmet, and Catherine catches one glimpse of her husband’s torn and bloodied face before the fan slips from her hand, and Catherine faints.
King Henry II’s wounds will become infected, and he’ll die ten days after this joust. His sons will inherit the French crown, but it is his widow Catherine de’ Medici who will become the true power behind the throne. And as Queen Mother, she will lead France at a time of religious turmoil. And while she will be remembered by some as a patron of the arts, she will be vilified by others as the ruthless mastermind behind the murder of thousands of people on the streets of Paris on August 24th, 1572.
Introduction
From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham, and this is History Daily.
History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.
Today is August 24th, 1572: The St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.
Act One
It’s August 18th, 1572, outside the main entrance of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, 13 years after the death of King Henry II.
Queen Mother Catherine de’ Medici watches as her 19-year-old daughter Margot approaches a large platform erected in front of the cathedral.
Waiting there is Margot’s new husband, Henry of Navarre. He is a distant cousin of the royal family and one of the most prominent Protestants in France. Margot, by contrast, is a Catholic princess. Their marriage is intended to unite two branches of the royal family and help reconcile a bitterly divided country.
Over the past decade, France has been torn apart by three civil wars between the country’s Catholic majority and its Protestant minority, known as the Huguenots. Towns have been seized, churches destroyed, and thousands of people killed. This royal marriage is part of an attempt to end the conflict. But the differences between the faiths have also complicated the wedding ceremony. Henry cannot attend the Catholic Mass inside Notre Dame. So the marriage rite is performed outside the cathedral, where both bride and groom can participate.
Catherine watches as the Cardinal presides over the ceremony. The match has taken months of difficult negotiation. The pope has not granted the necessary dispensation, and many French Catholics are outraged that Princess Margot is marrying a Protestant. But in the interests of peace, Catherine and her son, King Charles IX, have decided to proceed anyway.
By now, Catherine de’ Medici has dominated French politics for more than a decade. When her husband died in 1559, their teenage son, Francis, inherited the throne. But he too died less than 18 months later, and the crown passed to Catherine’s second surviving son, Charles.
But Charles was only ten years old at the time, so Catherine was named regent. And although her formal regency ended when Charles came of age, Catherine has remained his closest political adviser, and she is still one of the most powerful figures in France.
In this time, she has become a renowned patron of art, architecture, and music. But much of her attention has been consumed by the religious civil wars. Catherine has alternated between repression of the Huguenots, limited toleration of them, and negotiation with them as she tries to preserve the authority of the Crown and prevent France from tearing itself apart.
Two years ago, the Peace of Saint-Germain brought the latest war to an end. This agreement granted the Huguenots limited religious freedoms and control of several fortified towns. But the settlement remains fragile, and many Catholics believe it grants too much to people they regard as heretics. Many Huguenots, meanwhile, doubt that the Catholic Crown can be trusted to keep its promises.
This marriage between Margot and Henry of Navarre is intended to strengthen this precarious peace. But bringing the country’s leading Protestants into overwhelmingly Catholic Paris is a dangerous gamble. The city’s population is intensely hostile to the Huguenots. Catholic preachers have denounced the marriage, while the elaborate and expensive celebrations have angered Parisians already struggling with high taxes and rising food prices.
Still, for now at least, the gamble appears to be paying off. Following the ceremony, Catherine returns with the royal party to a nearby palace, where days of banquets and festivities have been arranged. Catholic and Protestant wedding guests eat, dance, and celebrate together. Many have recently faced one another on the battlefield. But now, they exchange bows and polite conversation beneath the roof of the royal palace.
And Catherine has reason to take pride in the scene. Her efforts at reconciliation seem to be working. But behind all the smiles, she knows that the court remains divided.
One of the most important nobles present is the 21-year-old Duke of Guise, the head of a powerful Catholic family. This young duke has inherited a bitter feud with the leading Huguenot commander, Gaspard de Coligny.
Nine years earlier, the duke’s father was assassinated by a Protestant gunman. Although Coligny denied ordering the killing, the Guise family held him responsible. The duke has grown up believing that Coligny helped arrange his father’s murder.
And now, he is face-to-face with Coligny at this royal wedding. Catherine de’ Medici watches carefully as the rival factions mingle inside the palace. This marriage has brought them together for now, but it cannot erase years of hatred, fear, and bloodshed.
So the peace between them will not hold. A few days after the wedding, an attempt will be made on Gaspard de Coligny’s life. Coligny will survive. But suspicion will immediately fall on the Guise family—and, before long, on Catherine de’ Medici herself.
Act Two
It’s the morning of August 22nd, 1572, in Paris, four days after the wedding between Princess Margot and Henry of Navarre.
The leading Huguenot commander, Gaspard de Coligny, leaves the royal palace shortly after eleven o’clock. The 53-year-old has spent the morning attending a meeting of the King’s council. And now, accompanied by several attendants, he walks through the narrow streets toward his lodgings.
The lavish celebrations that have accompanied the royal wedding are finally drawing to an end. And despite the deep hostility between Catholics in Paris and the hundreds of Huguenot visitors, the festivities have passed without major violence.
But as Coligny walks along, reading a document, a loud bang echoes down the street. His papers scatter into the dirt, and he cries out. A bullet has ripped through his right hand and buried itself in his left arm.
Coligny staggers but remains standing. His companions spot smoke drifting from a window above and rush toward the building. But the gunman has already escaped.
So Coligny is carried, bleeding, to his lodgings, where surgeons begin treating his wounds.
King Charles IX is playing tennis when news of the shooting reaches him. And furious that an attack has taken place so close to the royal palace, he throws down his racket and strides off the court.
He immediately appoints officials to investigate and orders measures to prevent disorder in the capital. Later that afternoon, Charles visits Coligny at his lodgings. The Queen Mother, Catherine de’ Medici, accompanies him, along with several leading members of the royal court.
They find Coligny in severe pain, but he assures Charles that he will live. For his part, the king promises Coligny that justice will be done. But outside, anger is spreading among the Protestant nobles in Paris. They entered this fiercely Catholic city to attend the wedding under royal guarantees of safety. And now their most important leader has been shot in broad daylight.
Many point the finger at the ultra-Catholic House of Guise.
After all, the young Duke of Guise has a powerful motive—he has always believed that Coligny was responsible for the assassination of his father. And the shot was fired from a building connected to the Guise family.
But other Protestants suggest that Catherine de’ Medici could be responsible. Recently, Coligny has been urging King Charles to intervene in the Netherlands, where Dutch rebels are fighting Spanish rule.
Catherine is firmly against the proposal, believing that war with Spain would be devastating for France. And perhaps she has tried to kill Coligny to remove a dangerous voice from her son’s ear.
But whether it was the Duke of Guise or the Queen Mother who ordered the attack, it’s clear to the Huguenots in Paris that Catholics were behind it. They demand the king punish the perpetrators—whoever they are—or they will take matters into their own hands.
Soon, reports of armed and furious Huguenots in the capital raise fears of a new Protestant uprising.
And Catherine and her son suddenly face an increasingly dangerous situation. If the investigation implicates the Queen Mother or the Guise family, Paris’s militant Catholics could riot. But if the Crown fails to find and punish those responsible for the attack on Coligny, the Huguenot nobles in the city could unleash violent retribution of their own—even spark a new civil war.
So throughout August 23rd, Charles consults with his mother and a small circle of advisers. Eventually, after hours of talks, a decision is made. Rather than risk a Huguenot uprising, the Crown will strike first.
It's not an order to kill every Protestant in Paris. Instead, it is a plan to eliminate a limited group of leading Huguenot nobles, including Gaspard de Coligny.
And by late August 23rd, the city’s gates are under guard, sections of the militia have been mobilized, and troops are preparing to move against the Huguenot leaders.
But Paris is already on edge. Catholic residents have spent years listening to sermons denouncing the Huguenots as heretics and traitors. Many of them are already enraged by their presence at the royal wedding. Others believe the Protestants are about to attack the city.
So, when the people of Paris realize that the Crown has sanctioned the killing of Protestants, the violence will spread far beyond the names selected by the royal council. And a plan for a limited political assassination will ignite one of the most infamous religious massacres in European history.
Act Three
It’s the early hours of August 24th, 1572, in Paris, two days after the attack on Gaspard de Coligny.
In the royal palace, Catherine de’ Medici stands by the window in her dark chamber, waiting for a church bell to toll.
Knowing what is about to happen, Catherine hasn’t been able to sleep. Her son, the King of France, may have given the fateful orders, but Catherine was part of the council that made the decision. And she helped write the list of noblemen who will die.
So all the promises of peace and protection that were given to the Huguenots before the wedding will be broken tonight. But Catherine tells herself that it is for the good of France.
In the distance, the church bell rings.
And at that signal, all across Paris, armed men break down doors and storm through passageways. They enter bedrooms and wake sleeping noblemen with daggers and swords.
Among the first to die is Gaspard de Coligny. He is resting at his lodgings, still recovering from the wounds he suffered in the failed attempt on his life. Until the men from the House of Guise burst in. They kill the guards and then stab Coligny himself, before throwing him out the window.
Waiting outside is the young Duke of Guise. He didn’t want to miss this moment—when he finally gained revenge for his father’s death. Coligny’s body lands at his feet, and the duke kicks the corpse before moving on to the next name on the list.
But the violence does not remain limited to the Crown’s original targets.
As news of the killings spreads, members of the Paris militia and crowds of Catholic civilians join the attack. Huguenot men, women, and children are hunted through the streets. Homes and businesses are broken into. Bodies are stripped, mutilated, and thrown into the River Seine.
This bloodshed soon spreads beyond Paris as well. During the following weeks, massacres take place in towns and cities all across France. As many as 20,000 people die, but the true number of victims will never be known.
And for centuries, Catherine de’ Medici will be portrayed as the calculating mastermind behind the slaughter. She was undoubtedly involved in the royal discussions that preceded the attack. But historians will debate the extent of her culpability. Some will say she proposed the assassinations and persuaded Charles to approve them. Others will insist that she was one of just several advisers who counseled the king and shared responsibility for what happened, when an order to eliminate political rivals became one of the most notorious explosions of religious violence in European history on August 24th, 1572.
Outro
Next on History Daily. August 25th, 1875. Captain Matthew Webb becomes the first person to swim across the English Channel.
From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.
Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.
Sound design by Mollie Baack.
Music by Thrumm.
This episode is written and researched by Owen Paul Nicholls.
Edited by William Simpson.
Managing producer Emily Burke. Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.