RICHELIEU,
A TALE OF FRANCE.
I advise you that you read
The Cardinal's malice and his potency
Together: to consider further, that
What his high hatred would effect, wants not
A minister in his power.
SHAKSPEARE.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1829.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
RICHELIEU.
CHAPTER I.
Showing how a Great Minister made a great mistake.
Strange to say, in the manuscript notes from which this true history is
derived, there occurs the most extraordinary omission that perhaps ever
appeared in the writings of any one pretending to accuracy; and most
provoking of all, I have searched memoirs and annals, histories and
letters, state papers and private memoranda, and have consulted all
sorts of tradition, oral and written, without being enabled to supply
from any other source the neglect of the original historian. Who would
believe, that, after having interested the reader so deeply in the
character of Jacques Chatpilleur, _Cuisinier Aubergiste_, the writer of
the above-mentioned notes would be so inconsiderate, so stupid, so
disappointing, as not to say one word concerning the farther progress of
the redoubtable _vivandier_ on that night, wherein he achieved the two
famous victories recorded in the last volume. But so it is: instead of
giving us a pathetic account of the scanty supper he at length contrived
to furnish forth for the noble prisoner, or of satisfying our curiosity
in regard to the means he employed to appease the wrath of the Governor,
the notes skip over the farther proceedings of that entire night, and
bring us at once upon the Count de Blenau's levee the next morning;
entering into very minute details concerning the difficulties he
encountered in arranging his mustaches, buttoning his pourpoint, &c.
without assistance; all of which I shall pass over as contemptible and
irrelevant, and below the dignity of authentic history.
With the embarrassment of the Count de Blenau's mind we have something
more to do; and, to tell the truth, the more he reflected upon his
situation, the more he was puzzled in regard to his future conduct. A
fresh examination, either by Lafemas or some member of the Council, was
to be expected speedily, under which he must either still refuse to
answer, which would infallibly be followed by the _peine forte et dure_;
or he must acknowledge that the Queen had privily conveyed him an order
to confess all, which would involve his royal mistress and himself and
Pauline in dangers, the extent of which he hardly knew; or he must reply
to the questions he had before refused to answer, and disclose what had
been intrusted to his honour, without showing that he was authorized to
do so; in which case, the reproach of treachery and cowardice must
inevitably fall upon his name. This was a dilemma with three horns, and
each very sharp; so that it was difficult to determine which to jump
upon, and seemingly impossible to avoid them all. De Blenau was sadly
chewing the cud of these bitter doubts, when he heard some one enter the
outer chamber; and the moment after, the very privacy of his bedroom was
invaded by the Governor, who entered with a countenance pale and
agitated; and who, like all people who have something horrible to
communicate, begged him not to be alarmed, in a tone that was enough to
frighten him out of his wits.
"Alarmed at what?" demanded the Count, summoning courage to encounter
the danger, whatever it might be.
"Why, Monsieur de Blenau," answered the Governor, "you must prepare
yourself to meet the Cardinal himself; a messenger has just come to say
that he will be here in person without loss of time. He arrived last
night at the Palais Cardinal, and brought the King to Paris with him."
"You seem to hold this Cardinal in some fear," said De Blenau, almost
smiling, amidst his own embarrassment, at the evident terror of the
Governor. "I could have wished that he had given me a little more time
for consideration; but I am not so frightened at him as you seem to be,
who have nothing to do with it."
"But pray remember, _mon cher Comte_," cried the Governor, "that you
promised not to betray me to the Cardinal in any case."
De Blenau's lip curled with contempt. "I think, you ought to know before
this time," answered he, "that I am not likely to betray any one.--But
there seems a noise and bustle in the court, in all probability caused
by the arrival of the Cardinal. Go and receive him, and depend upon
me."--Of all misfortunes on the earth, thought De Blenau, the curse of
cowardice is the most dreadful.
In a few minutes his supposition respecting the arrival of the Cardinal
was confirmed by a summons to appear before the Council in the hall of
audience; and with his mind still undecided, he followed the officer
across the court to the scene of his former examination. A difference,
however, struck him in the present arrangements of the prison, from
those which he had before remarked.
The court, instead of being crowded by those prisoners who had the
liberty of walking in it, was now entirely void; and, fixed like marble
on each side of the door opening into the audience-hall, was a soldier
of the Cardinal's guard, between whom stood a clerk, or greffier, of the
council-chamber, seemingly waiting for the approach of the prisoner. As
soon as De Blenau was within hearing, the doors were thrown open, and
the Clerk pronounced, "Claude Count de Blenau, appear before the King in
council."
"The King!" thought De Blenau; "this Cardinal, not content with taking
the King's guards, must take his title also:"--but passing on through
the open doors he entered the hall, where a very different scene
presented itself from that which had before met his eyes in the same
place.
The whole farther part of the chamber was filled with the officers and
attendants of Richelieu: each side, as well as the interstices between
the massy pillars that supported the roof, was occupied by a body of the
Cardinal's guard: in the chair at the head of the table sat the King
himself with the Prime Minister on his right hand: Chavigni,
Bouthilliers, Mazarin and others, occupied seats on either side; and to
complete the array appeared several clerks, together with the officers
of the prison, leaving only the space of about three feet at the bottom
of the table, which remained clear for the prisoner to present himself
opposite the throne.
Extraordinary as it was for the King himself to sit upon the examination
of a State prisoner, the whole demeanour and conduct of the monarch had
undergone a change since the return of Cinq Mars, which astonished those
about him more than even his resolution to be present at the council
held that morning in the Bastille. Even those who were most accustomed
to watch the changes of the King's variable disposition, would hardly
have recollected in the Sovereign, who, with the easy dignity and
self-possession of a clear and intelligent mind, presided at the head of
the council-table, the same man who in general yielded his very thoughts
to the governance of Richelieu, and abandoned all his kingly duties to
one whom he appeared both to dislike and dread. But so it was, that,
stimulated by some unseen means, Louis seemed at once to have resumed
the King; and as soon as De Blenau entered the audience-hall, he at once
opened the business of the day himself with all those powers which his
mind really possessed when called into activity.
"Monsieur de Blenau," said the King, "we are glad to see you. We have
heard much of you, and that always a good report, from those that we
love, and therefore our confidence in your honour and integrity is
great. There will be various questions asked of you to-day by the
members of the council present, which much affect the welfare of the
kingdom, and our own personal happiness; and to these questions we
command you, as a good subject and an honest man, to answer truly, and
according to your conscience, without any reservation whatsoever."
Before entering the audience-hall, De Blenau, well knowing that every
careless word might be subject to misconstruction, had determined to
speak as little as possible; and therefore, merely answering the King's
speech by a profound inclination of the head, he waited in silence for
the questions to which he had alluded.
Richelieu, the keen searching glance of whose eyes had been fixed upon
him during the whole time, paused for a moment in expectation of a
reply; but seeing that he said nothing, the Minister proceeded himself.
"I have heard with astonishment, Monsieur de Blenau," said he, "that you
have lately refused to answer questions, to which you had before replied
in conversation with me; and I can conceive no reason, Sir, why you
should object to give satisfaction on these points one day as much as
another."
"Nor can I conceive," replied De Blenau, "any reason why your Eminence
should cause questions to be put to me again which I had before
answered; and that reiteration even while the replies were yet new in
your mind."
"My memory might want refreshing," answered the Cardinal; "and you must
also remember, that the circumstances were very different at the two
periods in which those questions were addressed to you. In the first
place, you spoke merely in conversation; in the second case, you were a
prisoner, and it was therefore necessary that your deposition should be
taken from your own mouth.--But all this is irrelevant. The Council is
not inclined to take notice of your former contumacy, provided you now
reply to what shall be asked you."
De Blenau was again silent, merely bowing to signify that he
comprehended, without pledging himself either to answer or not; and
Richelieu proceeded with his questions, placing his hand, as he did so,
upon a large packet of open letters which lay on the table before him.
"You have already informed me, Monsieur de Blenau, if I remember
rightly," said the Minister, "that you have, at various times, forwarded
letters for the Queen, both by the usual public conveyances and
otherwise."
The King fixed his eyes intently upon the Count, while he replied at
once, "I have done so!"
"Can you remember," continued the Cardinal, "during what period you have
been accustomed to send these letters for the Queen? I mean, of what
date was the first?"
"I cannot precisely at this moment call to mind," answered De Blenau,
"but it was shortly after your Eminence appointed me, or rather
recommended me, to the office of Chamberlain to her Majesty."
"You see, Sire," said Richelieu, turning to the King with a meaning
glance, "just before the taking of Arras by the Imperialists----"
"Exactly so, your Eminence; I remember it by a circumstance that
occurred at the time," interposed De Blenau, misdoubting the effect of
the Cardinal's comments.
Richelieu gave him a gracious smile for this confirmation of his remark.
"Pray, what circumstance was that, Monsieur de Blenau?" demanded he; but
his smile was soon clouded by the Count's reply.
"It was, that the lace lappets, in order to procure which her Majesty
wrote that letter to Brussels, were seized at Arras, that city having
fallen into the enemy's hands. The Queen was much grieved thereat. You
know, Monseigneur, ladies set great store by their apparel."
Chavigni smiled, but Richelieu's brow gathered into a heavy frown, and
his reply was in that deep hollow tone of voice, by which alone one
could distinguish when he was affected by any powerful feeling. His brow
at all times remained calm, except when he sought to awe or intimidate;
his eye, too, was under command, scanning the passions of others, and
expressing none of his own, but those which he himself wished to appear;
but his voice betrayed him, and when internally agitated, it would sink
to so low and cavernous a sound, that it seemed as if the dead were
speaking. It was in this tone that he answered De Blenau.
"The contents of that letter, Sir, are but too well known by their
effects. But I am to conclude, from your observation, that you are as
well aware of what the Queen's letters have contained, as the persons to
whom they were addressed."
"Not so, your Eminence," replied De Blenau. "The import of that letter I
happened to be acquainted with by accident, but I pretend to no farther
knowledge."
"Yes, yes, Sir," said Richelieu, "it is very evident that you know well
to be informed or not on any subject, as it suits your purpose."
"Nay, Monsieur le Cardinal," interposed the King, "I think the young
gentleman answers with all candour and discretion. We do not seek to
perplex him, but to hear the truth; and sure I am that he will not
discredit his birth or honour by prevarication."
"Your Majesty's own honourable mind does justice to mine," replied the
Count: "I will own that I am guarded in my speech; for surrounded by
those who seek to draw matter from my mouth, on which to found some
accusation against me, I were a fool to speak freely. Nevertheless, I
will answer truly to whatsoever I do answer; and if there should come a
question to which I cannot reply without betraying my duty, I will tell
no falsehood, but, as I have done before, refuse to answer, and the
consequences of my honesty be upon my own head."
"Well, Sir," said the Cardinal, "if you have done the harangue with
which you are edifying the council, I will proceed with my questions;
but first let me tell you, that I am not disposed to be dared with
impunity. I think you denied to me that you had ever forwarded any
letters to Don Francisco de Mello, Leopold Archduke of Austria, or
Philip King of Spain.--Beware what you say, Claude Count de Blenau!"
"If I understand your Eminence rightly," said the prisoner, "you do not
ask me whether I ever did forward such letters, but whether I ever
denied to you that I did forward them: in which case, I must reply, that
I did deny having expedited any letter to Don Francisco de Mello, but
the two other names I never touched upon."
"Then you acknowledge that you have conveyed letters from the Queen to
the Archduke and the King of Spain?" demanded Richelieu.
"I have made no such acknowledgment," answered De Blenau; "your Eminence
puts a forced construction on my words."
"In vain you turn, Sir, like a rebellious serpent that strives in its
windings to escape the hand that grasps it. At once I ask you, have you
or have you not, ever, by any means, expedited any letter from the
Queen, or other person, to either the Archduke of Austria, or the King
of Spain? This, Sir, is a question that you cannot get over!"
The eyes of the whole Council fixed upon the Count as the Cardinal
spoke. De Blenau paused for a moment to recollect himself, and then
addressed himself directly to the King. "As a good and faithful
subject," he said, "there is a great duty which I owe your Majesty, and
I believe I have always performed it as I ought; but as a servant of
your royal consort the Queen, I have other duties, distinct, though I
hope in no degree opposed to those which bind me to my King. As a man of
honour also and a gentleman, I am bound to betray no trust reposed in
me, whether that trust seem to me material or not; and though I feel
sure that I might at once answer the questions proposed to me by his
Eminence of Richelieu without any detriment or discredit to her Majesty,
yet so sacred do I hold the confidence of another, that I must decline
to reply, whatever be the consequence. However, let me assure you, Sire,
that no word or deed of her Majesty the Queen, which has ever come to my
ears, has been derogatory to your Majesty's dignity, or contrary to your
interest."
"Then I am to conclude that you refuse to answer?" said Richelieu
sternly: "think, Monsieur de Blenau, before you carry your obstinacy too
far."
"My conduct does not arise in obstinacy," replied De Blenau, "but from a
sense of what is due to my own honour; and unless it can be shown me
that it is her Majesty's desire I should inform your Eminence of all I
know respecting her affairs, from henceforth I hold my tongue, and
answer no farther questions whatever."
"Be the consequence on your own head then, young man," exclaimed the
Cardinal. "We will now break up the council.--Monsieur de Blenau, take
leave of the sun, for you never see another morrow!"
De Blenau's courage was unshaken, but yet a cold chilly feeling gathered
round his heart as Richelieu bade him take leave of the sun, and rose to
break up the council. But still the King kept his seat, and Chavigni,
hastily writing a few words on a scrap of paper, handed it to the
Cardinal, who, after reading it, appeared to think for a moment, and
then again addressed De Blenau. "There is one hope still left for you,
Sir: did Monsieur de Chavigni understand you rightly, that if you had
the Queen's command to confess what you know of her affairs, you would
answer the questions we put to you?"
De Blenau breathed freely. "Undoubtedly!" replied he; "my honour will
then be satisfied, and there will be no subject on which I shall have a
reserve."
"What will you consider a sufficient expression of her Majesty's
commands to that effect?" asked Chavigni: "I know that his Eminence
wishes to treat you with all possible lenity, although the mere command
of the King in council ought to be sufficient warrant for you to yield
any information that may be required."
"We think differently on many points, Monsieur de Chavigni," answered De
Blenau; "but if you can show me her hand-writing to any order, or if one
of the officers of her household will bear me a message from her Majesty
to deliver what little I know of her affairs, I will do so without
farther hesitation."
There was now a momentary consultation carried on in a low voice amongst
the various members of the council, apparently concerning which of the
Queen's attendants should be sent for; but at length Chavigni whispered
to the Cardinal, "Send for La Rivière; he is a friend of Lafemas, and
will do any thing he is bid."
"If Monsieur de La Rivière bear you the Queen's commands, will you be
satisfied, Sir Count?" demanded Richelieu.
"The Queen's Gentleman-usher," said De Blenau; "most assuredly; that
will be sufficient."
"Go yourself, Chavigni," whispered Richelieu, "and as you come, tell him
what to say.--We will wait his arrival," he proceeded aloud;--"but see,
Monsieur de Chavigni, that he communicates with the Queen, and be fully
informed of her wishes."
De Blenau smiled, convinced from his late information through Pauline
that the Queen was still at Chantilly, and therefore that though La
Rivière might be himself in Paris, and ready to swear any thing that the
Cardinal dictated, he could have no communication with Anne of Austria,
unless, what seemed improbable, she had returned to the capital with the
King.
As soon as De Chavigni had retired for the purpose of seeking La
Rivière, Richelieu ran his eye over some memoranda, as if about to put
farther questions to De Blenau; but the King, not noticing these
indications of his purpose, addressed the prisoner himself. "Well,
Monsieur le Comte," said he, "while Chavigni is gone, there are two or
three points on which I shall be glad to speak with you."
Richelieu was surprised, and not particularly delighted, thinking that
the King was about to continue the examination himself, which might not
be conducted precisely in such a manner as to produce the effect he
wished; but, in the independent mood with which Louis was affected, he
dared not, with all his daring, attempt to interrupt the course of his
Sovereign's proceedings, and therefore remained silent, watching the
opportunity of interposing, to give what turn he best could to the
interrogatory that appeared about to commence. In the mean while De
Blenau bowed his head, calmly prepared to bear the mental torture of a
long cross-examination, where every word might be subject to dangerous
misconstruction.
"I understand, Monsieur de Blenau," continued the King, while the whole
Council listened with attentive expectation--"I understand that you have
the best breed of boar-dogs in France. Pray are they of the Pomeranian
or the Exul race?--and how can they be procured?"
Richelieu bit his lip; but to De Blenau the King's question was like the
clearing away of a threatened storm; and habitually attached to the
chase, as well as deeply learned in all its mysteries, he was delighted
to find that Louis turned the conversation to a subject equally familiar
to both.
"Mine are the true Pomeranian breed, Sire," he replied; "flewed an inch
deep, with eyes like Sandarak--would light your Majesty home at night,
if by chance you lost your way. In truth, they are only fit for a
monarch; and Cinq Mars has now four couple of the best in education for
your Majesty, which, when well trained, and recovered from their
wildness, he will present to your Majesty in my name; and I humbly hope
that you will accept them in aid of your Royal sport."
"We shall, we shall; and thank you well, Sir Count," replied the King,
smiling most graciously at the prospect of possessing a breed which he
had been long seeking for in vain. "Monsieur le Cardinal, do you hear
that? We will hunt with them some day. You used to hunt in your day too;
have you quite given it over?"
"I have been too much busied, Sire," answered Richelieu gravely, "in
hunting from your Majesty's dominions Huguenot wolves and Spanish foxes,
to pursue other game."
Louis turned from him with an uneasy shrug, expressive of fully as much
distaste for Richelieu's employments as the statesman experienced for
his; and once more addressing De Blenau, he plunged deep into the
science of hunting, hawking, and fowling; giving the young Count a
thousand receipts, instructions, and anecdotes, which he listened to
with the most reverential deference, not only in as much as they
proceeded from his Sovereign, but also as coming from the most
experienced sportsman of the age.
In the mean while, Richelieu was fain to employ himself in writing notes
and memoranda, to allay the spleen and irritation that he felt at what
he internally termed the King's weak trifling; till at length he was
relieved by the return of Chavigni, bringing with him the Queen's Usher,
La Rivière.
De Blenau well knew that this person, who was by birth just within the
rank of a _gentleman_ (which word was then in France one of great
significance), had been placed in the service of Anne of Austria for the
purpose of acting as a spy upon her, from Richelieu's fear of her
correspondence with Spain; but informed, as the Count now was, of the
Queen's wishes, it was perfectly indifferent to him who appeared on her
behalf; his only object being, that his mistress's commands, publicly
expressed, should, in the minds of all, free him from the imputation of
having betrayed her.
La Rivière looked round him, as he entered, with a glance not altogether
free from apprehension; for though Chavigni had given him full
instructions and information concerning the services he was sent for to
perform, yet there was something so terrible in the idea of the
Bastille, that he could hardly keep his limbs from trembling as he
passed the gates of the prison.
"Come hither, Monsieur de La Rivière," exclaimed the Cardinal, as soon
as he appeared: "We are wasting too much time here." La Rivière
approached, and placed himself in the spot to which Richelieu pointed,
almost exactly opposite to De Blenau.
The Cardinal then proceeded. "Have you seen her Majesty the Queen since
Monsieur de Chavigni informed you of the wishes of the Council?"
"I have, may it please your Eminence," replied La Rivière, in a
tremulous voice.
"And what was her Majesty's reply to our request?" asked Richelieu.
"Speak boldly!" he added, in a tone only calculated to reach the ear of
the Usher, who stood close beside him, and showed plainly, by his
hesitating manner, that he was under the influence of alarm. The
Cardinal, however, attributed this to a wrong cause, thinking that La
Rivière had not really seen the Queen, and was about to play his part,
as prompted by Chavigni, but that in all probability he would spoil it
by his hesitation.
Just as La Rivière was proceeding to answer, however, Chavigni, who had
taken his place at the council-table the moment he entered, and had been
writing rapidly since, conveyed a slip of paper across to the Cardinal,
who raised his hand for the Usher to be silent while he read. The words
which his friend had written greatly discomposed the Minister's plans.
They were, "I am afraid it will not succeed: I have seen the Queen, when
she not only told La Rivière, at once, to command the Count, in her
name, to answer every question that related to her, but has given him a
letter under her own hand to that effect. She is either innocent, or
relies devotedly on De Blenau: whichever is the case, her open conduct
will clear her in the mind of the King. Act as you like."
"What is the matter, Monsieur le Cardinal?" demanded Louis, somewhat
impatiently. "Why do we not proceed?"
"Because," answered Richelieu, "what Monsieur de Chavigni says is right,
Sire, though, I confess, it did not strike me before. Shall we not
become contemptible in the eyes of the world, by submitting to be
dictated to by Monsieur de Blenau? And is it not a gross insult to your
Majesty's power, to obey the commands of the Queen, when he has refused
to obey your own? I am sorry that this did not appear to me earlier; but
the objection now seems to me so forcible, that I can proceed no farther
in this course."
Louis paused. He was as jealous of the Queen possessing any authority as
Richelieu could wish; but in the present instance he was urged, by
different motives, in an opposite direction. Some sparks of affection
had revived in his bosom towards Anne of Austria, and he wished much to
satisfy himself regarding the suspicions which had been urged against
her. De Blenau was the dear friend of his favourite Cinq Mars; and his
mind also had begun to yield to the arguments of those who sought the
destruction of the Minister. But, on the other hand, the habit of being
ruled by Richelieu, and the specious arguments he produced, made Louis
hesitate:--"What, then, do you intend to do?" demanded he, addressing
the Cardinal.
"In the first place, Sire," replied Richelieu sternly, "I propose to
interrogate the prisoner once more, and if his contumacy still
continues, let the _question_ be his doom."
The King's naturally good feelings and love of justice here at once
overcame all doubt. "No, God forbid!" cried he, rousing himself to
energy. "What, are we Christians, Monsieur le Cardinal, and shall we put
a fellow-creature to the torture, when there is a straight-forward way
to gain the information that we want? Fie upon it! No!"
Richelieu's ashy cheek grew still a shade paler. It was the first time
for many a year he had undergone rebuke. He felt that trammels with
which he had so long held the King enthralled were but as green lithes
twined round the limbs of a giant. He saw that the vast fabric of his
power was raised upon a foundation of unsteady sand, and that even then
it trembled to its very base.
"Monsieur La Rivière, answer the King!" continued Louis, in a dignified
tone. "What says the Queen to the request of our Council, that she would
command her Chamberlain to answer those questions, in regard to which he
has a scruple on her account?"
"Her Majesty says, Sire," answered La Rivière, "that she is most willing
to do any thing that will please your Majesty; and she has not only
ordered me to command, in her name, Monsieur de Blenau to inform the
Council of every thing he knows concerning her conduct; but has also
written this letter, with her own hand, to the same effect." And
advancing to the table, he bent his knee before the King, and presented
the document of which he was the bearer.
Louis took the letter, and read it through. "This looks not like a
guilty conscience," said he, frowning upon Richelieu. "Give that to
Monsieur de Blenau," he continued to one of the officers. "There, Sir
Count, is your warrant to speak freely; and though we think you carry
your sense of honour too far, so as to make it dangerous to yourself,
and almost rebellious towards us, we cannot help respecting the
principle, even though it be in excess."
"May I always have such a judge as your Majesty!" replied De Blenau.
"Most humbly do I crave your royal pardon, if I have been at all wanting
in duty towards you. Believe me, Sire, it has proceeded not from any
fault of inclination, but from an error in judgment. I have now no
farther hesitation, all my duties being reconciled; and, I believe, the
best way fully to reply to the questions which have been asked me, will
be by telling your Majesty, that I have on several occasions forwarded
letters from the Queen, by private couriers of my own, or by any other
conveyance that offered. None of these letters have been either to the
Archduke, to Don Francisco de Mello, or any other person whatever,
connected with the Spanish Government, except her Majesty's brother,
Philip, King of Spain, to whom I have assuredly sent several; but before
I ever undertook to do so, her Majesty condescended to give me her most
positive promise, and to pledge her Royal word, that the tidings she
gave her brother should on all occasions be confined to her domestic
affairs, nor ever touch upon the external or internal policy of the
Government, so that my honour and allegiance should be equally
unsullied. These letters have sometimes remained upon my person for
weeks, waiting for the fit opportunity to send them; which circumstance
having by some means been discovered, has caused me no small
inconvenience at times. Farther, I have nothing to tell your Majesty,
but that I have ever heard the Queen express the greatest affection for
your Royal person, and the warmest wishes for your public and private
welfare; and, on my honour, I have never observed her do, by word or
action, any thing which could be construed into a breach of the duty she
owes your Majesty, either as her sovereign or her husband.
"You see!" exclaimed the King, turning to Richelieu, as De Blenau
concluded; "You see--exactly what she confessed herself--not one tittle
of difference."
The anger of the Cardinal, at finding himself foiled, swept away his
political prudence. Irritated and weakened by a wearing disease, he was
in no frame of mind to see calmly a scheme he had formed with infinite
care, so completely overthrown; and forgetting that the King's energies
were now aroused to oppose him, he resolved to let his vengeance fall on
the head of De Blenau as the means of his disappointment. His brow
darkened, and his eye flashed, and he replied in that stern and haughty
manner which had so often carried command along with it.
"If your Majesty be satisfied, of course so am I, whose sole wish was to
purge the lily crown from the profaning touch of strangers. But as for
Monsieur de Blenau, he has confessed himself guilty of a crime little
short of high treason, in forwarding those letters to a foreign enemy.
We have already condemned a woman to exile for a less offence; and
therefore the mildest sentence that the Council _can_ pronounce, and
which by my voice it _does_ pronounce, is, that Claude Count de Blenau
be banished for ever from these realms; and that, if after the space of
sixteen days he be found within their precincts, he shall be considered
as without the pale of law, and his blood be required at the hand of no
man that sheds it!"
There was an indignant spot glowing in the King's face while Richelieu
spoke thus, that Chavigni marked with pain; for he saw that the
precipitant haste of the Minister was hurrying his power to its fall.
"Too much of this!" cried Louis angrily. "Lord Cardinal, you forget the
presence of the King. Monsieur de Blenau--We, by our royal prerogative,
do annul and make void the sentence you have just heard, merely
commanding you to retire from this chateau of the Bastille, without
holding communication with any persons attached to the Court, and to
render yourself within the limits of our province of Bourbon, and there
to wait our farther pleasure. The Council is over," he continued,
rising. "Monsieur le Cardinal de Richelieu, by sending the warrant for
the Count's release some time in the day to our Governor of the
Bastille, you will merit our thanks."
The officers cleared the way for the King--the _huissiers_ of the
chamber threw wide the doors--and Louis, with a firm and dignified step,
proceeded slowly out of the hall, followed by Richelieu, who,
thunderstruck and confounded, kept his eyes bent upon the ground, in the
silence of deep astonishment. The rest of the Council, equally mute and
surprised, accompanied the Cardinal with anxiety in every eye; while the
officers of the Bastille and the Count de Blenau remained the sole
occupants of the hall of audience.