Even the horrors of the Inquisition in Spain pale before the horrors of the massacre of St. Bartholomew. Even the bloody “Demon of the South,” as Philip II. was called, seems not such a revolting spectacle of depraved humanity as Catherine de’ Medici; for Philip, at least, fanatically imagined he was aiding the cause of religion, as he believed the infamous Inquisition to be a righteous avenger in behalf of the Catholic Church; whereas Catherine de’ Medici had no belief, no religion, cared neither for Catholics nor Protestants, neither for the Romish Church nor for the Reformed Faith. She flattered each by turns as it best suited her nefarious schemes; she was actuated by no motive beyond her personal ambition of holding the reins of power; she cared not who or what was sacrificed, whether the life and soul of her own child, or whether the result was the downfall of every religious belief, the blood of her subjects, the ruin of her provinces, and the desolation of the homes of her people. Not even fanaticism can be offered as a poor excuse for her crimes; her infamous deeds can be cloaked by no paltry plea of religious fervor. Her crimes were instigated by her own diabolical soul, a willing ally of the Prince of Darkness; and were it not for the strong menial abilities she manifested, one would imagine her some grotesque monster of an animal. But her crafty schemes betokened keen intellectual powers, and made her seem some malignant demon in human shape sent forth from the lowest depths of the Inferno to lure men and women to destruction. Catherine de’ Medici was a daughter of Lorenzo de’ Medici, that ruler of Florence for whom Machiavelli wrote the “Prince.” Having lost both her parents in early childhood, Catherine was sent to a convent to be educated. Her uncle, Pope Clement VII., arranged with Francis I. of France a marriage between Catherine and the Duke of Orleans, afterwards Henry II. of France. This marriage was celebrated in 1533, when Catherine was fourteen years of age. During the reign of Francis, Catherine exercised no influence in France. She was a thick-set, plain, unprepossessing girl; and being so young, and a foreigner, and a native of a state having no great weight in the world of politics, she was thrown entirely into the shade by more important and attractive personages, having not yet given any proof of her after great but iniquitous ability.