Brantôme was not religious. He cannot be considered a good judge in affairs of the Huguenots, for he was more than neutral in religious matters. He took an indifferent attitude towards the League. For as a secular priest, he had the very best reasons for being neither in favor of the League nor of the Huguenots. He speaks with great respect of Coligny. They frequently met and the admiral was always friendly. Brantôme disapproved of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Eve and considered it entirely reprehensible and purposeless. This good warrior would have greatly preferred to have seen these restless spirits engaged in a foreign war. He says of this bloody eve: “Mort malheurse lu puis—je bien appeller pour toute la France.” To be sure, in the following year he was present at the Siege of La Rochelle, the White City. He was at the court when Charles IX. died. He accompanied the corpse from Notre Dame to St. Denis and then entered the services of Henri III., who finally bestowed some favors upon the brothers Bourdeille and gave them the Bishopric of Perigneux. Then this restless soul was driven to approach Alençon, the youngest of the Valois. Bussy d’Amboise, the foremost nobleman of Alençon, was his friend. Alençon overwhelmed him with kindness and Brantôme had to beg the angry king’s pardon for his defection. But now an event occurred which almost drove Brantôme into open rebellion. In 1582 his oldest brother died. The Abbey had belonged to both of them, but his brother had appointed his own heir and the king was helpless against this. Brantôme became very angry because he was not the heir. “Je ne suis qu’un ver de terre,” he writes. He now desired that the king should at least give his share of the Abbey to his nephew, but he was unsuccessful in this as well. Aubeterre became Seneschal and Governor of Perigord. This fault-finder could not control his anger: “Un matin, second jour de premier de l’an ... je luy en fis ma plainte; il m’en fit des excuses, bien qu’il fust mon roy. Je ne luy respondis autre chose sinon: Eh bien, Sire, vous ne m’avez donne se coup grand subject de vous faire jainais service comme j’ay faict.” And so he ran off “fort despit.” As he left the Louvre he noticed that the golden chamberlain’s key was still hanging on his belt; he tore it off and threw it into the Seine, so great was his anger. (When Aubeterre died in 1593 these posts were returned to the family Bourdeille.)