Bassompierre, during his absence in Lorraine, condemned by the
Archbishop of Aix to espouse Mlle. d’Entragues, on pain of
excommunication--The archbishop’s decision quashed by the Parlement
of Paris--Financial and amatory embarrassments of
Bassompierre--Death of his mother--The action which the d’Entragues
have brought against him finally decided in his favour--Condé
withdraws from Court and issues a manifesto against the
Government--Civil war begins--Marriage of Louis XIII and Anne of
Austria--Peace of Loudun--Fall of the old Ministers of Henri
IV--Concini and the shoemaker--Condé becomes all-powerful--He
obliges Concini to retire to Normandy--Arrogance of Condé and his
partisans, who are suspected of conspiracy to change the form of
government--The Queen-Mother sends for Bassompierre at three
o’clock in the morning and informs him that she has decided upon
the arrest of the Princes--Preparations for this _coup
d’état_--Arrest of Condé--Concini’s house sacked by the mob--The
Comte d’Auvergne and the Council of War--Bassompierre conducts
Condé from the Louvre to the Bastille.
In January, 1615, Bassompierre set out for Lorraine, to visit his
mother, who was lying dangerously ill at Nancy. “The joy of seeing me,”
says he, “restored her to some degree of health,” and, after remaining
with her a fortnight, he went to visit some of his friends in Germany.
About Easter he returned to Nancy, and was about to set out for France
when he received a most astonishing piece of intelligence.
It appears that the d’Entragues, aware that their plea that the court at
Rouen was improperly constituted was certain to be overruled by the
King’s Council and the case sent back to Rouen for trial, in which event
their chance of obtaining a verdict would be a very remote one, had
decided to appeal to Rome, and proceeded to petition the Pope to direct
that the affair should be adjudicated upon by ecclesiastical
commissioners appointed by his Holiness. The petition was granted,
though it would appear to have been very unusual for the Vatican to do
so, unless it had first been ascertained whether the other party were
willing for the case to be submitted to a Papal tribunal; and one of the
commissioners appointed was the Bishop of Dax. But, by some error, due
no doubt to the similarity of names, the Papal authority to try the case
was sent, not to this prelate, but to the Archbishop of Aix. Now, the
Archbishop of Aix, if we are to believe Bassompierre, was “a needy
rogue, and generally regarded as mad”; and when the Bishop of Beauvais,
at whose suggestion the appeal to Rome had been made, and whom the
writer accuses of being in love with Marie d’Entragues, offered him a
bribe of 1,200 crowns to defeat the ends of justice, he promptly
accepted it. Thereupon, without condescending to consult his
fellow-commissioners he sent a citation to Bassompierre’s house,
summoning him to appear before him; and, after waiting three days,
without troubling to ascertain whether that gentleman had ever received
the citation, and without hearing any evidence, pronounced, on his own
authority, the promise of marriage--which he had not even seen, as it
was, with the other documents connected with the case, at Rome--good and
valid, and condemned Bassompierre to execute it within fifteen days
after Easter, on pain of excommunication.
On learning of these extraordinary proceedings, Bassompierre returned to
Paris in all haste, and appealed to the Parlement; and that body, always
very jealous of Papal interference with matters which it considered
within its own jurisdiction, promptly quashed the archbishop’s decision.
He then went to the Queen-Mother, who, “indignant, like everyone else,
at the infamy of this man,” issued an order for the prelate’s arrest,
which Bassompierre set out to execute, at the head of 200 stalwart
Swiss. The archbishop, however, had prudently gone into hiding, where he
remained until the Nuncio and the other bishops, fearing a scandal,
succeeded in pacifying the infuriated Bassompierre, “the Nuncio giving
him his word that within three months at latest his Holiness would
quash, as the Parlement had already done, all the proceedings of this
fool. And this he did.”
This new development of the d’Entragues affair was only one of many
difficulties which beset Bassompierre on his return to Paris:--
“I found myself on my return in very great perplexity; not only in
consequence of this affair, but also on account of six hundred
thousand livres which I owed in Paris, without any means of paying
them; and my creditors, who, on seeing me set out to visit my
mother, who was dangerously ill, entertained some hope that, with
the property I should inherit from her, I should be able to satisfy
them, now that I was returned and my mother recovered, lost all
hope of settling their affairs with me, and were consequently very
mutinous. There was a quarrel in a certain house between a husband
and wife on my account, which gave me pain; and, worst of all,
there was a girl for whom I daily feared a discovery attended with
a great scandal and evil consequences for me.”
However, his fortunate star prevailed over these complicated effects of
his extravagant and amorous propensities:--
“It happened that, within a few days, I heard of the quashing of
the proceedings of this precious Archbishop of Aix, and of the
death of my mother, which brought me fifty thousand crowns in money
and saleable property to the value of a hundred thousand, so that I
paid seven hundred thousand livres of debts, which placed me
greatly at my ease; the quarrel between the husband and wife was
made up (August); the girl was happily brought to bed without
anyone knowing of it (August 5); and I went to Rouen, where I
gained my case against Antragues finally and completely. So that at
the same, or within a little, time I was delivered from all these
divers and distressing inconveniences.”
Towards the end of March, Condé, who for weeks past had been secretly
fomenting opposition to the Court, left Paris, followed, at intervals,
by his chief adherents, and issued a manifesto protesting against the
Ultramontane tendencies of the Government and the Spanish marriage.
Marie de’ Medici, who intended shortly to set out for the Spanish
frontier to make the exchange of the princesses and conclude the
marriage of Louis XIII and Anne of Austria, and naturally feared to
leave Condé behind her, sent him a letter from the King commanding the
prince to accompany him. But Condé excused himself from following his
Majesty until he had remedied the evils of the State, of which he
designed the Maréchal d’Ancre as the principal author.
The Queen-Mother, in consequence, was obliged to raise two armies: one
to escort the King and herself to Bordeaux, the other to watch the
princes. The latter force was placed under the command of the Maréchal
de Bois-Dauphin, with Praslin as his chief of staff; and to this
Bassompierre and the Swiss were attached.
The King and his mother left Paris on August 17, Bassompierre and the
Swiss accompanying them so far as Bernis, not far from Sceaux, where
they received orders to return and join Bois-Dauphin’s army. Before
doing so, however, Bassompierre went to Rouen, where on September 4 the
Parlement pronounced judgment in his favour; and this unedifying affair,
which had dragged on for nearly four years and must have involved both
sides in enormous expense, finally terminated. He then returned in
triumph to Paris, whence he proceeded to Meaux, where Bois-Dauphin had
established his headquarters.
Bassompierre gives a long and detailed account of the operations which
ensued, through which, however, we do not propose to follow him, since
they are of little interest, consisting mainly of unimportant skirmishes
and the reduction of such places as had declared for the Princes or had
been seized by them. In what fighting took place he appears to have
displayed both courage and activity; while he endeavoured, though
without success, to impart some of his own energy to the old Maréchal de
Bois-Dauphin, who, in his youth, had been one of the most dashing
officers in the armies of the League, but with age had grown slow and
cautious. Happily for the marshal, Condé was equally incapable;
otherwise, he would no doubt have taken advantage of his opponent’s
inaction to march upon Paris.
Meanwhile, the Court had reached Bordeaux in safety, from which town the
greater part of the Royal army was despatched to the frontier to fetch
the Infanta Anne of Austria, whom Philip III, undisturbed on his side by
war’s alarms, had brought from Madrid. The exchange of the princesses
took place at Andaye, on the Bidassoa, after which Anne of Austria,
escorted by the Royal troops, set out for Bordeaux, where her marriage
with Louis XIII was celebrated on November 28.
Her object accomplished, Marie de’ Medici became anxious for peace at
any price, while Condé and his friends, now deprived of their chief
pretext for rebellion and aware that the Queen would be prepared to pay
them handsomely to return to their allegiance, had no desire to prolong
the war. A suspension of arms having been agreed upon, a congress met at
Loudun to negotiate peace, which was signed on May 3, 1616.
Its terms were another triumph for the party of the Princes, and
particularly for their leader, who, in exchange for his government of
Guienne, received that of Berry and of the citadel and town of Bourges,
the right of signing all the decrees of the Council, and 1,500,000
livres, to compensate him for the inconvenience and expense to which he
had been put in being obliged to take up arms against his sovereign. He
was certainly finding rebellion a most profitable occupation. The other
grandees, his accomplices, received altogether 6,000,000 livres.
The Peace of Loudun brought about the downfall of the Ministers of Henri
IV. In both peace and war they had shown only weakness, which is
scarcely surprising, considering that the Chancellor, the youngest of
the three, was seventy-two. He was obliged to surrender the Seals to Du
Vair, First President of the Parlement of Toulouse; while Villeroy and
Jeannin were also dismissed, and replaced by Mangot, First President of
the Parlement of Bordeaux, and the Queen-Mother’s intendant Barbin, an
intelligent and energetic man, who was devoted to Concini and Marie de’
Medici.
As for Concini, he was more in favour at Court than ever; nevertheless,
his position was not altogether an enviable one, since, though he was
temporarily reconciled with Condé, Mayenne and Bouillon were breathing
fire and slaughter against him and were quite capable of putting their
threats into execution should a favourable occasion present itself;
while he had rendered himself odious to the Parisians by an act of
intolerable insolence.
It happened that, one night during the war, Concini had wished to leave
Paris by the Porte de Bussy, in order to go to Saint-Germain. But, as he
had neglected to provide himself with the necessary passport--such
trifles being, of course, beneath the notice of so great a man--the
officer of the citizen militia in charge of the gate, who, when not
girded with a sword, followed the peaceful occupation of a shoemaker,
had refused to let him out. The shoemaker was only doing his duty, but
Concini was furious, and, so soon as peace was signed, determined to be
revenged, and accordingly sent two of his lackeys to chastise the
impertinent fellow who had dared to put such an affront upon a marshal
of France. The sequel was a tragedy, for the shoemaker shouted for help
with all the strength of his lungs; the people came running from all
directions to his assistance, seized the unfortunate lackeys, and, after
keeping them locked up for some days, hanged them in front of the
shoemaker’s shop, vowing that they would serve their master in the same
way when they could lay their hands on him.
All things considered, it is not surprising that the marshal should have
decided that the air of Paris was just then unsuited to his health and
remained at his country seat at Lesigny, though even there he appears to
have been far from safe from his enemies, since Bassompierre tells us
that “MM. de Mayenne and de Bouillon made an attempt to blow him up with
a petard, but did not succeed.”
However, on July 20 Condé returned to Paris, to be received with
enthusiasm by the people, though surely no one was ever less deserving
of popular acclamations than this vain, greedy, and meddlesome young
man, who had not scrupled to plunge his country into the miseries of
civil war to serve his own selfish ends! Unwilling to offend the prince
by failing to pay him his respects, Concini thereupon decided to go to
Paris, even at the risk of his life, and wrote to Bassompierre, who had
apparently quite forgiven him for the shabby way he had behaved two
years before, asking him to meet him at the Porte Saint-Antoine at three
o’clock on the following afternoon, with as many friends as he could
muster.
At the appointed hour Bassompierre proceeded to the Porte Saint-Antoine,
accompanied by thirty horse, passing on the way the Hôtel de Mayenne,
which stood at the corner of the Rue Saint-Antoine and the Rue du
Petit-Musc. Presently, Concini appeared, riding in his gilded coach,
which was surrounded by forty mounted retainers, all, of course, armed
to the teeth. The marshal alighted, and mounted a horse which
Bassompierre had brought for him, and the two cavalcades joined forces
and proceeded through the streets to the Louvre. Here they waited while
Concini entered to salute the Queen, and then made their way to the
Hôtel de Condé, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain. By this time the
marshal’s escort, swollen by the accession of friends of his own and
Bassompierre’s, amounted to over one hundred horse; but it seemed as
though even this force might be insufficient to protect him, as the
first person whom they saw on entering the courtyard of the Hôtel de
Condé was Concini’s enemy the shoemaker. His presence in that
aristocratic mansion was no doubt accounted for by the fact that it was
part of _Monsieur le Prince’s_ policy to court the leaders of the
populace, as the Guises had done so effectively in days gone by.
No sooner did the shoemaker catch sight of Concini, than he hurried
away, shouting out that he was going to raise the people of his quarter
against the Italian. The latter, greatly alarmed, paid his respects to
Condé as briefly as etiquette would permit, and then he and his escort
turned their horses’ heads towards the river. On this occasion,
Bassompierre and his followers rode some two hundred paces ahead of
Concini, as it had been decided that if, as was fully expected, they
found the Pont-Neuf occupied by an armed mob too numerous to allow of
them cutting their way through, the vanguard should hold the enemy in
check, while the marshal, under the protection of the rest, retreated to
the shelter of the Hôtel de Condé. To their relief, however, the bridge
was unoccupied--apparently the shoemaker had not had sufficient time to
mobilise his quarter--and they reached the Porte Saint-Antoine in
safety, where Concini reentered his coach and returned to Lesigny.
After Condé’s return to Paris, the management of affairs fell almost
entirely into his hands, and his hôtel was besieged at all hours by
petitioners and sycophants. “Almost all the grandees,” says
Bassompierre, “were of his party and his cabal, and even MM. de
Guise[104] joined him, under pretext of dissatisfaction with the
Maréchal d’Ancre and his wife.”
At the beginning of August, Concini returned to his
[Illustration: CONCINO CONCINI, MARÉCHAL D’ANCRE.
From an engraving by Aubert.]
house in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, emboldened apparently by a promise
of his protection which Condé had given him. A few days later, having
some business with the prince, he had the hardihood to go to the Hôtel
de Condé, attended by a suite of thirty gentlemen, at a time when Condé
was giving a sumptuous fête in honour of Lord Hay, the British
Ambassador Extraordinary, to which all the princes and great nobles had
been invited. The company were at table when he arrived, but he went
into the banquet-hall, in which he found Bouillon, Mayenne and other
sworn enemies of his, spoke with Condé for some time, and then took his
departure, “all these gentlemen glaring at him and he at them.”
Next morning, the prince sent for Concini and told him that he had had
great difficulty on the previous day in restraining his friends from
falling upon him and killing him as he was leaving his hôtel, and that
they all threatened to abandon him if he did not withdraw his protection
from the marshal. In consequence, he was unable to protect him any
longer, and he counselled him strongly to retire to Normandy, of which
province he had recently been appointed lieutenant-general, in exchange
for the surrender of a similar office in Picardy. Concini followed the
prince’s advice--or rather his orders--went to the Louvre to take leave
of the King and the Queen-Mother, and left Paris the next day (August
15). “It is impossible to say,” adds Bassompierre, “how much his
departure discredited the Queen-Mother, when it was seen that a servant
of hers could not live in safety in Paris, save so long as _Monsieur le
Prince_ pleased; while it augmented the reputation and authority of
_Monsieur le Prince_.”
Chief of the grandees and also chief of the King’s counsellors, Condé
might perhaps have been content to live on good terms with the
Queen-Mother and to use with moderation the large share of power which
she had abandoned to him. “But his partisans were unable to suffer their
reunion.” Longueville surprised Péronne; Bouillon, the “demon of
rebellion,” the turbulent Mayenne, the restless Vendôme, urged him to
seize the supreme power, on pain of abandoning him. He is said to have
avowed to Barbin that “it was plain that nothing more remained for him
but to remove the King from his throne and put himself in his place.” If
he had really entertained any such intention, he would hardly have made
a confidant of one of the most devoted of the Queen-Mother’s adherents;
but, any way, the Court believed that he was secretly stirring up the
people and the clergy and tampering with the officers of the Guards and
the captains of the citizen militia, and was plotting to change the form
of government. On the advice probably of the new Ministers Barbin and
Mangot, and of Concini’s wife, Marie de’ Medici resolved to forestall
Condé by arresting him, together with Bouillon, Mayenne, and Vendôme.
Fearing that the officers of the Guards might refuse to lay hands on the
first Prince of the Blood, she decided to dispense with their services
and to entrust the task to the Marquis de Thémines, a brave old Gascon
noble who had served with distinction in the Wars of Religion, assisted
by d’Elbène, a captain of light cavalry.
“On Thursday, the first day of September, at three o’clock in the
morning,” says Bassompierre, “I was awakened by a gentleman-servant
of the Queen named La Motte, who came to tell me, on her behalf, to
come to the Louvre, disguised and alone, which I did. On entering
the Louvre, I found one of the Gardes du Corps of the King named La
Barre, who happened to be on guard that night. La Barre was
Quartermaster of the Swiss, and I told him to come with me into the
Queen’s ante-chamber and wait at the door while I entered her
chamber, as I did not doubt that it was some matter relating to the
Swiss which was the cause of my being sent for.
“I found the Queen in deshabille, with MM. Mangot and Barbin on
either side of her, while M. de Fossé[105] was standing a little
way behind them. As I entered, she said to me: ‘You do not know why
I have sent for you so early, Bassompierre.’ ‘Madame,’ I answered,
‘I do not know the reason.’ ‘I will tell you anon,’ said she, and
then began to walk about, and so continued for near half-an-hour;
while I spoke to M. de Fossé, whom I was very astonished to see
there, as the Queen had dismissed him for having accompanied the
Commandeur de Sillery when he was exiled from the Court.[106]
“At length, the Queen entered her cabinet, bidding us follow her,
and said to me: ‘I intend to make prisoners of _Monsieur le Prince_
and MM. de Vendôme, Mayenne, and Bouillon. I desire that the Swiss
be here at eleven o’clock this morning, that is to say, about the
Tuileries, for, if I am forced by the people to leave Paris, I
shall retire with them to Mantes. I have my jewels packed up and
40,000 crowns in gold--they are here--and I shall take my children
with me, if I am forced to go, though I pray that God may forbid
it, and I do not think it will be necessary. But I am fully
resolved to submit to any peril and inconvenience that I may
encounter rather than lose my authority and suffer that of the King
to perish. I desire also that, when the time arrives, you will go,
with your Swiss, to the gate [of the Louvre], to resist an attack,
if one should be made, and to die there for the service of the
King, as I promise myself that you will be ready to do.’ ‘Madame,’
I replied, ‘I shall not deceive the good opinion that you entertain
of me, as you will know to-day, if such should be the case.
Meantime, Madame, be pleased to permit me to go and summon the
Swiss from their quarters.’ ‘No,’ said she, ‘you shall not go out.’
‘It is strange of you, Madame,’ said I, ‘to distrust a man to whom
you are confiding the person of the King, your own, and those of
your children. However, I have at this door a man whom I can trust,
and I will send him to the quarters of the Swiss. Rely on me,
Madame, and rest assured that the fête will not be spoiled by me.’
She permitted me to go out, and I sent La Barre to fetch the Swiss.
I asked her what she intended to do with the French Guards, when
she said that she feared that M. de Créquy[107] had been won over
by _Monsieur le Prince_. ‘Not against the King, Madame,’ said I,
‘for I know that for the King he would die a thousand deaths, if
that were possible.’ Upon that she said: ‘I must send for him, and
neither of you must go out until _Monsieur le Prince_ has entered.’
She sent also for M. de Saint-Géran[108]; while La Curée[109] came
with the King when he descended to the Queen-Mother’s apartments at
nine o’clock. The Queen spoke to these gentlemen, and when I asked
her by whom _Monsieur le Prince_ was to be arrested, she answered:
‘I have provided for that.’
“_Monsieur le Prince_ came at eight o’clock to attend the Council,
and the Queen-Mother, looking at him as everyone came to hand him
petitions, said: ‘There is the King of France, but his royalty will
be like that of the Twelfth Night King; it will not last long.’
“Upon that, she despatched Créquy and myself to the gate of the
Louvre to place the Guards under arms, and meantime she sent to
summon _Monsieur le Prince_ to her presence. Afterwards she sent to
tell us that if _Monsieur le Prince_ came to the gate, we should
arrest him. We sent back word that this was so important an order
that we ought to have it from her own lips, and that she should
have given it us while we were in her chamber; but that, if it
pleased her to send a lieutenant of the Guards du Corps to arrest
him, we would render him every assistance, and, meantime, I would
give orders that no one was to pass out of the gate. And I placed
thirty Swiss halberdiers there, while Créquy gave a like order to
the French Guards.
“A moment later, there came a _valet de chambre_ of the Queen to
tell us that _Monsieur le Prince_ had been arrested.”[110]
So soon as the arrest of Condé had been effected, Saint-Géran and La
Curée, with detachments of the Gensdarmes and Light Cavalry of the
Guard, were sent to apprehend Bouillon, Mayenne, and Vendôme; but all
three princes had prudently taken to flight.
Much to the relief of Marie de’ Medici, the bulk of the populace
remained unmoved, though the Dowager-Princesse de Condé drove about the
streets, crying out: “To arms, good people! The Maréchal d’Ancre has
caused _Monsieur le Prince_ to be assassinated!” A crowd, however,
collected before Concini’s house in the Faubourg-Saint-Germain, broke in
the door and sacked it from basement to attic, after which they were
proceeding to demolish it, when the French Guards arrived and dispersed
them.
“A little while after the arrest of _Monsieur le Prince_,” says
Bassompierre, “some rioters, or some members of the said prince’s
household, began to throw stones against the windows of the
Maréchal d’Ancre’s house. Then, others joining them with the hope
of plunder, took the pieces of timber from beyond the Luxembourg,
which was then being built, to break open the door of the said
house. Eight or ten men and women who were within escaped,
terror-stricken, by a back door; and a number of masons from the
Luxembourg having joined the mob, they entered and pillaged this
rich house, in which they found furniture worth more than 200,000
crowns. So soon as the Queen-Mother heard of it, she ordered M. de
Liancourt, Governor of Paris, to go and put a stop to the tumult.
He went with the archers of the Watch, but, perceiving that it was
no place for him, returned; and the people continued to pillage all
day, and were not interfered with.... The next day the King
commanded M. de Créquy to take the companies of the French Guards
just relieved from duty and drive away the people, who were
continuing, not to plunder--for that was already accomplished--but
to demolish the Maréchal d’Ancre’s house. This M. de Créquy did,
and placed soldiers there to guard it.”
The same day that Condé was arrested, the King, at his mother’s request,
created Thémines a marshal of France. His appointment, Bassompierre
tells us, aroused great indignation amongst a number of gentlemen who
considered that their own military services gave them a better claim to
that dignity, and they complained loudly, the loudest of all being M. de
Montigny, formerly Governor of Paris, who, while travelling to the
capital that morning, had met Vendôme flying for his life, and had
obligingly lent him his own post-horses, which were fresh, as the
prince’s were exhausted. To pacify Montigny, the King created him a
marshal likewise. Then Saint-Géran, “perceiving that it was only
necessary to complain to get what one wanted,” extorted from his Majesty
a written promise that he too should be made a marshal, while Créquy
obtained a brevet of duke and peer. The Queen-Mother said to
Bassompierre that evening: “Bassompierre, you have not asked for
anything like the others.” “Madame,” was the diplomatic answer, “an
occasion on which we have only performed our simple duty is not one on
which to ask for recompense. But I hope that when, by great services, I
shall have merited them, the King will bestow upon me honours and
emoluments without my asking him.”
On September 5, Marie de’ Medici instituted a Council of War, to which
she summoned the Maréchal de Brissac, Praslin, Saint-Luc, Saint-Géran,
and Bassompierre, and also the recently dismissed Ministers Villeroy and
Jeannin, to discuss the means of raising an army to combat the fugitive
princes, who had established themselves at Soissons, where their
adherents were gathering round them. This Council, however, had only
held one or two meetings, under the presidency of the Maréchal de
Brissac, when a most embarrassing incident caused its sittings to be
suspended.
It will be remembered that, in 1605, the Comte d’Auvergne, Charles IX’s
son by Marie Touchet, now Madame d’Entragues, had been condemned to
death for high treason, a sentence subsequently commuted by Henri IV to
perpetual imprisonment in the Bastille. This commutation, however, had
not been a formal one, so that the death-sentence remained nominally
suspended over the captive’s head. At the end of the previous June, the
Queen-Mother had set Auvergne at liberty, with the object of opposing
him to the cabal of the Princes; and when, a few weeks later, the news
arrived that Longueville had seized Péronne, she sent him, at the head
of two companies of the French Guards and a detachment of cavalry, to
invest the place. But, by some extraordinary oversight, she had omitted
to furnish Auvergne with the usual letters of _abolition_, and, in the
absence of his sovereign’s formal pardon for his offences, he occupied a
position somewhat analogous to that of a convict on ticket-of-leave.
A day or two after the Council of War had been appointed, Auvergne
returned from Péronne, and asked Barbin whether he were expected to
attend its sessions. Barbin gave him to understand that he was; and at
the next meeting of the Council the prince entered the room and coolly
took his seat at the head of the table. Brissac was so overcome with
astonishment and indignation that he was quite unable to utter any
protest; but Bassompierre, boiling with rage at the sight of a man who
had twice conspired against the life of his beloved master, and was
still technically a traitor under sentence of death, presuming to
attend, much less to preside, over their counsels, rose at once and
moved to one of the windows, beckoning Saint-Géran and Créquy to follow
him. His friends shared his indignation, and, having consulted together,
they called Brissac and told him that it would be “a reproach and a
shame to him” if he suffered the Comte d’Auvergne to take his place. The
marshal thereupon declared that, provided that they and La Curée would
support him--for these four with their troops were masters of the
Louvre--he would kill the count with his own hand, if he returned for
the afternoon session and again took his place at the head of the
council-board. The others applauded this decision, but, happily, Praslin
joined them, and, on learning of what was intended, pointed out that the
wisest course would be to request the Queen-Mother to order the Comte
d’Auvergne not to attend the Council or to suspend its sessions, whereby
they would escape the “inconvenience” which might arise were a marshal
of France to kill a Prince of the Blood at the council-board.
It was decided to follow his advice, and to delegate to him the duty of
informing the Queen-Mother that they would not permit the count to
preside over the Council or even attend it. Marie de’ Medici, we are
told, took their remonstrances in very good part, and, since she did not
care to offend Auvergne by excluding him from the Council, decided that
that body should not meet again.
On September 25, Guise and his brother Joinville, who had followed the
other princes to Soissons, with the apparent intention of throwing in
their lot with them, returned to Paris and came to the Louvre to pay
their respects to the Queen-Mother and assure her of their unalterable
fidelity. Her Majesty received them very graciously; nevertheless, she
appears to have entertained a strong suspicion that they had other
motives in returning to the capital. For that evening, when the
courtiers were retiring from her apartments, she desired Bassompierre to
remain, as she wished to speak to him, and said: “Bassompierre, I have
resolved to transfer _Monsieur le Prince_ from here, and intend to
entrust his removal to you. Here is the Maréchal de Thémines, who
arrested him, and who has guarded him in the Louvre with difficulty. But
it is to be feared that, if I keep him here any longer, some attempt may
be made to rescue him, which could easily be done.... Besides, if he
remains here, the King and I are prevented from leaving, should we
desire to go to Saint-Germain or some other place, since, in that event,
he would no longer be in security. In consequence, I have resolved to
place him in the Bastille, and desire that you should take charge of his
removal.”
“She then told me,” says Bassompierre, “that it was the King’s intention
that I should not wait for _li honori, li bieni, li carichi_. These were
her words.”
Bassompierre replied that the honour of her Majesty’s confidence was in
itself sufficient recompense for the slight service which she was
demanding of him, and that he would readily undertake to conduct the
prince safely to the Bastille. About this she need have no fear, since,
even if Condé’s adherents were to get wind of what was intended, long
before they had had time to gather in sufficient numbers to attempt a
rescue, he would have the prisoner under lock and key again.
He then inquired if the Queen-Mother had any orders to give as to the
manner of the prince’s removal, and, on being told that she left all the
arrangements entirely to his discretion, proceeded to form the escort,
which was composed of 200 of the French Guards and 100 Swiss, chosen
from those who were posted before and behind the Louvre--for the palace
was guarded night and day, like a beleaguered fortress upon which an
assault might at any moment be delivered--another body of 50 Swiss, whom
he summoned from their quarters in the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, a few of
his own and the Queen’s gentlemen, on horseback, a dozen men of the
Gardes du Corps, and six of the Swiss of the Guard (the _Cent-Suisses_).
The French Guards were posted opposite the gate of the Louvre; the rest
were drawn up in the courtyard, where a coach was in waiting to convey
the prisoner and Thémines, who was to ride with him, to the Bastille.
His preparations completed, Bassompierre, accompanied by Thémines,
ascended to the room where Condé was confined, and awakened the prince,
“who was in great apprehension,” being evidently under the impression
that they had come to conduct him to execution. Thémines having
reassured him on this score, he went with the marshal down to the
courtyard and entered the coach; Bassompierre mounted his horse, and the
cortège moved off. Bassompierre, with the mounted gentlemen and fifty of
the Swiss, led the way; then came the coach, guarded on either side by
the Gardes du Corps and the Swiss of the Guard, with their partizans and
halberds; while the French Guards and the rest of the Swiss brought up
the rear. Thus they wended their way through the dark, silent streets
towards the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, no one being encountered on their
march save a few belated pedestrians, and, in less than an hour after
they left the Louvre, the gates of the Bastille had closed upon the
first Prince of the Blood.
Before setting out for the Bastille, Bassompierre had judged it
advisable to send a messenger to assure the Duc de Guise, whose hôtel
lay on their way[111] and who, he thought, might take alarm if he
learned that soldiers were approaching, that nothing was intended
against him. The messenger was only just in time, for Guise, warned by
a friend living near the Louvre that troops were assembling at the
palace, and persuaded that his arrest was their objective, had promptly
decided on flight; and he and some of his attendants were already
dressed and preparing to get to horse.