Bassompierre accompanies Henri IV in his campaign against Charles
Emmanuel of Savoy--His narrow escape at the taking of
Montmélian--He goes with the King to visit Henriette d’Entragues,
Madame de Verneuil, at La Côte-Saint-André, and reconciles Henri IV
with his mistress--Marriage of the King to Marie de’
Medici--Presentation of Madame de Verneuil to the Queen--Visit of
Bassompierre to Lorraine--He returns to find the royal _ménage_ in
a very troubled state, owing to the jealousy of the wife and the
mistress--He assists at a conference, in which the Chancellor
recommends the King to get rid of Madame de Verneuil at any
cost--He accompanies the Maréchal de Biron on a visit to
England--He is present at the arrest of Biron at Fontainebleau, in
June, 1602--Condemnation and execution of the marshal.
In February, 1600, Charles Emmanuel of Savoy paid a visit to the Court
to negotiate personally with the King about the matter of the marquisate
of Saluzzo, which, in 1588, the Duke, taking advantage of the internal
troubles of France, had invaded and annexed, and the restoration of
which Henri IV was now demanding. Charles Emmanuel offered to enter into
an alliance with France against Spain, and assist her to conquer the
Milanese, if only Henri IV would forgo his claims on Saluzzo, and
lavished costly gifts and large sums of money upon the Ministers and the
mistress in order to gain their support. But the King was adamant on the
question of Saluzzo, and on February 27 the Duke was obliged to sign a
treaty, whereby he engaged within three months either to surrender the
marquisate, or, as compensation, the county of Bresse, the valley of
Barcellonnette, the valley of the Stura, Pérousse, and Pinerolo.
Towards the middle of May, as Charles Emmanuel had as yet taken no steps
to carry out his engagements, Henri IV began moving troops towards the
frontier of Savoy, and he himself, accompanied by a few of his
intimates, amongst whom was Bassompierre, set out for Lyons, having sent
the rest of the Court on in advance to await him at Moulins. At Moulins,
where he was the guest of Queen Louise, widow of the late King, he
stayed for some little time “principally on account of la Bourdaisière,
with whom he was in love”[32]; and it was not until the beginning of
July that he arrived at Lyons. Here he remained three weeks, to see what
action Charles Emmanuel proposed to take. That prince, however, had
signed the treaty of February merely for the purpose of gaining time;
and the promises of Spain, which feared, above all things, to see France
once more in possession of Saluzzo, decided him to break his word. At
the expiration of the three months he solicited a further delay or an
amelioration of the conditions of the treaty, hoping that the expected
rebellion of the Maréchal de Biron and the Comte d’Auvergne, whom, by
specious promises, he had succeeded in seducing from their allegiance to
their sovereign, would break out before Henri IV was ready to take the
field.
Henri IV, however, was not deceived, and summoned the Duke to declare
immediately what his intentions were. The latter, after many
tergiversations, announced that he was prepared to surrender Saluzzo.
But when the King despatched officers to take possession of the chief
places in the marquisate, he refused to surrender them; and on August
11, Henri IV, at the end of his patience, declared war at Lyons.
Bassompierre has left us an interesting account of the campaign which
followed--a campaign of invasion undertaken by an army scarcely more
numerous than a brigade to-day; but which, thanks to the improvements in
the artillery which Sully had introduced and the valour of the troops,
proved entirely successful. He himself underwent his “baptism of fire”
at the taking of the town of Montmélian, where he served with the
regiment of the Sire (afterwards the Maréchal) de Créquy. His military
career came very near to ending as well as beginning at Montmélian, for,
in the darkness, he lost his way and was cut off from his comrades, “so
that I was for more than an hour at the mercy of the fire from the
citadel, at twenty paces from the ditch.” By what seems like a miracle,
however, he was not hit, and, at length a sergeant, whom Créquy had sent
to find him, arrived and guided him to a place of safety.
Charles Emmanuel, for once entirely wrong in his calculations, was
unable to offer any effective resistance to the invaders of his realm;
France remained tranquil; Biron, traitor though he was, in spite of
himself, mastered Bresse; Chambéry, the capital of Savoy, surrendered to
Henri IV after but a show of resistance; the citadel of Montmélian,
fondly deemed impregnable, fell before Sully’s new siege-guns; and the
Duke, seeing himself beaten, sued for peace, and, on New Year’s Day,
1601, signed a treaty with France, by which he retained Saluzzo, in
exchange for the cession of Bresse, Bugey, Valromey and Gex.
Whilst engaged in the conquest of Savoy, Henri IV went to visit Madame
de Verneuil at Grenoble, as he had hastened at the peril of his life to
throw himself at the feet of the Comtesse de Gramont (“_la belle_
Corisande”) after the Battle of Coutras. The years had not changed him
and he made these journeys as eagerly as a gallant of half his age.
“I had intended,” writes Bassompierre, “to go with M. Lesdiguières
to the valley of Marenne, which he was going to subdue, but the
King ordered me to follow him. He went to sleep at La Rochette, and
on the morrow dined at Grenoble. And having there learned that
Madame de Verneuil was about to arrive at Saint-André de la
Costé,[33] he set out to go to her and lent me one of his own
horses to follow him. I rode the whole way at a trot, and was so
tired that, when I arrived, I could scarcely stand. The King and
Madame de Verneuil had a quarrel on meeting,[34] so that the King
was going back in anger, and said to me: ‘Bassompierre, order our
horses to be saddled for us to return.’ I told him that I would
willingly order his to be saddled, but that, as for mine, I should
declare myself on Madame de Verneuil’s side and should stay with
her. And, after going to and fro several times, in order to
reconcile two persons who were well inclined to it, I made peace
between them and we slept at Saint-André. The next day the King
went to Grenoble and took Madame de Verneuil with him.”
“No one,” writes Boudet de Puymaigre, “makes us understand better than
does Bassompierre the character of Henri IV, that extraordinary man,
great on the field of battle, where his inspired language, in accord
with his deeds, elevates him often to the sublimity of the epopee;
skilful and even adroit in the government of his realm, causing at need
acts which were merely the outcome of political necessity to be
attributed to his clemency; in his private life, despotic and
good-humoured at the same time, often duped by his mistresses and
blinded by his passions. Such as he was, he remains the type of the
popular king, and posterity has done honour even to his faults, for it
has enshrined the name of ‘_la belle_ Gabrielle’ amidst the trophies of
the Battle of Ivry. ‘His tragic end,’ remarks Chateaubriand, ‘has
contributed not a little to his renown; to disappear appropriately from
life is a condition of glory.’”
Just a month before peace was signed with the Duke of Savoy, Marie de’
Medici, whom the Duc de Bellegarde, acting as proxy for his master, had
married at Florence on Oct. 6, 1600, arrived at Lyons. Henri IV joined
her there a few days later, and on December 17 the marriage was
celebrated with great splendour. On the arrival of the royal bride at
Nemours, the King caused Madame de Verneuil to be presented to her. As
the sultana came forward, he explained who she was: “This young lady is
my mistress; she will be your obedient and humble servant!” Then, as the
scant curtsey which was all the salutation which Henriette vouchsafed
the Queen appeared to hold out little hope of the fulfilment of this
promise, he placed his hand on her head and bent it down, until she
kissed the hem of her rival’s dress.
It must be acknowledged that his Majesty could hardly have contrived an
introduction better calculated to exasperate the temper of both women.
Nevertheless, on this occasion, the Queen contrived to dissimulate her
feelings, and, according to Bassompierre, gave Madame de Verneuil a very
good reception--“_bonne chère_,” as they said then.
In January, 1601, Bassompierre again went to Lorraine, to visit his
mother, who was ill, and remained there three months. He returned in
company with the Duchess of Bar and her father-in-law, Charles III of
Lorraine, who were on their way to pay a visit to the Court, which was
then in residence at Monceaux. The Château of Monceaux, so closely
associated with memories of “_la belle_ Gabrielle,” had just been
presented to the Queen by Henri IV, and Marie de’ Medici entertained her
distinguished guests with lavish hospitality. The royal ménage was,
however, in a very troubled state, for the wife and the mistress were
already at daggers drawn, and between them the Very Christian King was
having a decidedly unpleasant time of it. Matters, indeed, had come to
such a pass that Henri IV was contemplating the advisability of marrying
Madame de Verneuil, with a rich dowry, to some needy foreign prince, and
thus removing her from his Court; and Bassompierre was called upon to
assist at a sort of council between the King, Sully, and the Chancellor,
Pomponne de Bellièvre, the last of whom strongly urged his Majesty to
get rid of the lady at any cost:--
“The King inquired if he should give something to Madame de
Verneuil in order to marry her to a prince, who she declared, was
willing to espouse her, if she had 100,000 crowns. M. de Bellièvre
(the Chancellor) said: ‘Sire, I am of opinion that you should give
100,000 crowns to this young lady to procure a suitable husband.’
And when M. de Sully made answer that it was very easy to speak of
100,000 crowns, but very difficult to find them, the Chancellor,
without looking at him, rejoined: ‘Sire, I am of opinion that you
should take 200,000 crowns and give it to this young lady to marry
her, and even 300,000, if you cannot do it for less. And that is my
advice.’ The King repented afterwards of not having approved and
followed this counsel.”
In September, 1601, Henri IV was at Calais, and Queen Elizabeth came to
Dover, partly in the hope that her old ally would visit her to discuss
the advisability of joint action against Spain. The King, however, was
unwilling to alarm the Catholics or to do anything which might
precipitate a renewal of the war with Spain, and he also perhaps feared
that Elizabeth might seize the opportunity to demand the repayment of
certain advances of money which she had made him during his struggle
against the League, and which it would be highly inconvenient to refund
just then. Accordingly, he dispatched the Maréchal de Biron to offer his
excuses and regrets to the Queen; and Biron persuaded Bassompierre, who
had just arrived at Calais from a journey to Verneuil upon which the
King had sent him, to accompany him to England.
“We did not find the Queen in London,” writes Bassompierre. “She
was making a progress, and was at a country-house called Basin,[35]
forty leagues distant, which belonged to the Marquis of
Vincester.[36] The Queen notified her intention of receiving us at
another country-house, called The Vine, a league from Basin,
whither M. de Biron was conducted. He was very honourably received
by the Queen, who went a-hunting next day with fifty ladies on
hackneys and sent for M. de Biron to join the hunt. On the morrow,
he took leave of the Queen and returned to London, where, after
remaining three days, he repassed the sea.”
The first news which greeted Bassompierre and the marshal on their
arrival at Boulogne, near which contrary winds had obliged them to land,
was the birth of the Dauphin (afterwards Louis XIII), which had taken
place on September 27, 1601.[37]
Bassompierre was present at Fontainebleau that evening in the following
June, when Biron, after refusing Henri IV’s magnanimous offer of pardon
on condition that he would confess the truth concerning his treasonable
dealings with the Duke of Savoy, was arrested by the Marquis de Vitry,
Captain of the Château of Fontainebleau, as he was passing from the
King’s cabinet into the Chambre de Saint-Louis, and requested to give up
his sword.
“I was in the Chamber,” he writes, “having withdrawn to the window
with M. de Montbazon and La Guesle.[38] We approached the marshal,
who asked M. de Montbazon to go and beg the King that he might be
allowed to retain his sword, adding: ‘What treatment, Messieurs,
for a man who has served as I have!’ M. de Montbazon went to the
King and returned to say that the King desired him to give up his
sword, upon which he permitted them to take it away.”
Biron was conducted to the Bastille, where his captivity was shared by
the Comte d’Auvergne, who had been arrested at the same time.[39] Later
that evening, Henri IV sent for Bassompierre and other nobles, and
placed before them the letters which La Fin, the instigator of the
conspiracy, who had subsequently turned informer, had given him. They
were all written in Biron’s own hand.
The marshal was arraigned for high treason before the Parlement of
Paris, the peers of the realm being summoned to take their places
amongst the judges, as was the custom when one of their number was on
his trial. The evidence of the accused’s guilt was overwhelming, and he
was unanimously sentenced to death. On July 31, 1602, he was beheaded in
the courtyard of the Bastille, it having been decided to spare him the
ignominy of a public execution in the Place de Grève. The pusillanimous
Comte d’Auvergne was pardoned and set at liberty in the following
October, thanks to the intercession of his half-sister, Madame de
Verneuil.