to be forced to kill your own children, do you think that so great a matter after all?  What are your children made of more than other people’s children?  What are we all but dirt and dust?” Such was the consolation administered by the mother of the man who governed Paris, and defended its gates against its lawful sovereign at the command of a foreigner; while the priests in their turn persuaded the populace that it was far more righteous to kill their own children, if they had no food to give them, than to obtain food by recognising a heretic king.

It was related too, and believed, that in some instances mothers had salted the bodies of their dead children and fed upon them, day by day, until the hideous repast would no longer support their own life.  They died, and the secret was revealed by servants who had partaken of the food.  The Spanish ambassador, Mendoza, advised recourse to an article of diet which had been used in some of the oriental sieges.  The counsel at first was rejected as coming from the agent of Spain, who wished at all hazards to save the capital of France from falling out of the hands of his master into those of the heretic.  But dire necessity prevailed, and the bones of the dead were taken in considerable quantities from the cemeteries, ground into flour, baked into bread, and consumed.  It was called Madame Montpensier’s cake, because the duchess earnestly proclaimed its merits to the poor Parisians.  “She was never known to taste it herself, however,” bitterly observed one who lived in Paris through that horrible summer.  She was right to abstain, for all who ate of it died, and the Montpensier flour fell into disuse.

Lansquenets and other soldiers, mad with hunger and rage, when they could no longer find dogs to feed on, chased children through the streets, and were known in several instances to kill and devour them on the spot.  To those expressing horror at the perpetration of such a crime, a leading personage, member of the Council of Nine, maintained that there was less danger to one’s soul in satisfying one’s hunger with a dead child, in case of necessity, than in recognizing the heretic Bearnese, and he added that all the best theologians and doctors of Paris were of his opinion.

As the summer wore on to its close, through all these horrors, and as there were still no signs of Mayenne and Parma leading their armies to the relief of the city, it became necessary to deceive the people by a show of negotiation with the beleaguering army.  Accordingly, the Spanish ambassador, the legate, and the other chiefs of the Holy League appointed a deputation, consisting of the Cardinal Gondy, the Archbishop of Lyons, and the Abbe d’Elbene, to Henry.  It soon became evident to the king, however, that these commissioners were but trifling with him in order to amuse the populace.  His attitude was dignified and determined throughout the interview.  The place appointed was St. Anthony’s Abbey, before