There can be little doubt, therefore, that in the summer of 1560 France was on the brink of a great religious change, perhaps of a national reformation. Catherine de Medicis inclined toward it, not that she cared much about creeds, but because it seemed an admirable political weapon ready to her hand. The Cardinal of Lorraine did not oppose it, probably hoping to increase his wealth by the plunder of the Church, after the English example. All moderate-minded people wished for a reformation that did not involve separation from Rome. Even the violent Gaspard de Saulx-Tavannes listened for once to the voice of common sense: “Mass ought not to be said in French, no change or reform should be introduced into the ceremonies without the approval of a general council. Nevertheless, I must confess (he added) that the people would be much more stirred up to devotion, if they heard in their own tongue the chants of the priests and the psalms that are sung in church.” While these conciliatory measures were under discussion in the royal council-chamber, the difference between the two creeds was growing wider. The Reformers had increased so greatly in many of the large towns, particularly in the south and west (as we shall presently see), that in defiance of the edicts they gave up their secret meetings in woods and barns, and worshiped in public. The king wrote to Tavannes respecting the troubles in Dauphiny, ordering him to collect troops and “cut the religious rebels in pieces.... There is nothing I desire more than to exterminate them utterly, and so tear them up by the roots that no fresh ones may arise.... Chastise them without mercy.”[136] Six months later (Oct., 1560) the king sent Paul de la Barthe, marshal of Termes, to Poitiers with 200 men-at-arms to check heresy, and particularly to “catch the ministers and punish them soundly.” They were to be hanged without trial. He was to permit no assemblies, and if any were held, he was to fall upon them with the sword. “I beg of you, cousin,” he wrote, “to sweep the country clear of such rabble who disturb the world.”[137] Such orders were the fruit of the Guise government; it is but just, however, to say, that it is doubtful whether this letter was sent to the marshal, probably because on reflection it appeared too cruel. The Count of Villars, describing the effect produced by this merciless persecution, writes: “Part of the inhabitants of Nismes, to the number of 3000 or 4000, have retired into the mountains of the Gevaudan, whence they threaten to descend into the plain, in which case those who appear the most submissive will infallibly join them. The heresy extends every day.” As for the prisoners, he continues, their number is so great that it is impossible to put them all to death. On the 12th October, 1560, he informs the constable that he has burned two mule-loads of books from Geneva, valued at 1000 crowns, and set free a number of women on their promise