Bassompierre joins the Royal army in Champagne as Grand Master of
the Artillery by commission--Surrender of
Château-Porcien--Bassompierre is wounded before Rethel--He sets out
for Paris in order to negotiate the sale of his office of
Colonel-General of the Swiss to Concini--He visits the Royal army
which is besieging Soissons--A foolhardy act--Singular conduct of
the garrison--The Président Chevret arrives in the Royal camp with
the news that Concini has been assassinated--Details of this
affair--Bassompierre continues his journey to Paris--His adventure
with the Liégeois cavalry of Concini.
About the middle of March, Bassompierre was sent as Grand Master of the
Artillery by commission to join the army of Champagne, commanded by the
Duc de Guise, who had as his second in command the Maréchal de Thémines,
while Praslin was also serving under him. He found the army laying siege
to Château-Porcien, situated on the right bank of the Aisne, two leagues
from Rethel. Nevers, who was Governor of Champagne and Brie and Duc de
Rethelois, occupied, in virtue of this double title, several places in
that part of the country, and their reduction was the chief object of
the campaign.
Guise bombarded the citadel of Château-Porcien for some days with little
effect; but when he turned his guns on the town, it speedily
surrendered; and Bassompierre, with four companies of the French Guards
and as many of the Swiss, marched in and took possession. In the course
of the day the commandant of the citadel sent to ask for a parley, and
was conducted by Bassompierre to Guise’s quarters, where, after a lively
discussion as to whether or not the garrison were to be permitted to
march out with the honours of war, terms were arranged, and next morning
the citadel capitulated.
After Guise, with a part of his cavalry, had made an unsuccessful
attempt to surprise an infantry regiment of the enemy quartered in a
village near Laon, and the Château of Wassigny had been taken, Thémines
was despatched to Rocroi to dismantle and bring up six of the guns from
that fortress; and on April 8 the army advanced to Rethel and laid siege
to it.
Here Bassompierre’s troubles began; and artillery officers who served
during the late war in that part of France under similar climatic
conditions will appreciate the difficulties with which he had to
contend.
“Rain fell continuously,” he says, “and, as the soil in the
Rethelois is clay, we encountered a thousand difficulties, chiefly
in moving our cannon, which sunk in it over the axle-trees. At last
we made ready a battery of eight pieces below the town, but when I
came on Friday morning, the 14th of April, to see if Lesines[118]
had kept his promise to have the eight pieces in position by
daybreak, I found that there were only two. A third was at thirty
paces from the battery, sunk so deeply in the ground that they had
been unable to move it; while a fourth was a hundred paces distant.
This last had been abandoned by the officers because, in bringing
it up, a driver and some of the horses had been killed, upon which
the other drivers had unyoked their horses and fled.”
However, Bassompierre had his redoubtable mountaineers to fall back on.
“Then,” he continues, “I took fifty Swiss, to whom I promised fifty
crowns, to bring those two pieces into position for me; and they
harnessed themselves to them in place of the horses, having first
dug a trench beneath the wheels of each piece and lined it with
stout planks, so as to prevent it from sinking deeper in the mud.
We drew the first into position without being fired upon from the
town; but, as we were occupying ourselves with the more distant
one, and had drawn it close to the battery, and I was lending them
a hand, the enemy fired a salvo at us, by which two Swiss were
killed and three wounded, and I myself hit by a musket-ball in the
right side of the abdomen. I thought that I was wounded to the
death, and the Maréchal de Thémines, who was in the battery,
thought so too. However, God willed that the quantity of clothes
which the ball encountered (for it pierced five folds of my cloak
and two folds of my furred _hongroline_, my sword-belt, and my
coat-skirt) caused it to stop on the peritoneum without penetrating
it, so that when the wound was probed the ball was found in the
thick flesh of the belly, where they made an incision, and out it
fell. I only kept my bed for one day, although my wound was a month
in healing, by reason of the cloth which was within.”
The following day, Praslin, who had replaced Bassompierre in command of
the artillery, was also wounded by a musket-ball in the thigh, while
directing the fire of the battery. But the ball did not injure the bone,
and he was cured as quickly as his friend.
Rethel surrendered a few days later, and Guise, after placing a garrison
there, resolved to lay siege to Mézières, where Nevers himself
commanded. But, before doing this, he decided to send for additional
siege-guns, and, as it would be at least ten days before they could
arrive, Bassompierre asked for leave to go to Paris, in order to
negotiate the sale of his office of Colonel-General of the Swiss to
Concini. The marshal, as we have mentioned, had offered him 600,000
crowns for the post; but Bassompierre had asked for another 50,000,
which the other was not at the time inclined to give. However, he was
evidently so anxious to secure it that it was very probable that he
would be willing to reconsider his offer.
The same evening he received very gracious letters from the King and
Queen-Mother, who appear to have been under the impression that he was
far more severely wounded than was the case, and another from the
Maréchal d’Ancre, “who wrote me,” says he, “that, if I were trying to
get myself killed, he would like to be my heir; and that, if I were
well enough to come to Paris to conclude the matter of the Swiss, he
would give me, instead of the 50,000 francs in dispute, 10,000 crowns’
worth of jewels at a goldsmith’s valuation.”
On April 21 he left Rethel, accompanied by the Marquis de Thémines,
eldest son of the marshal, the Comte de Fiesque, Zamet, and more than
fifty officers, who had also obtained leave, which appears to have been
granted with amazing liberality in those days. But, instead of making
straight for Paris, they decided to take a busman’s holiday by breaking
their journey at Soissons, to see what progress the Comte
d’Auvergne--now formally rehabilitated and therefore once more fit for
the society of gentlemen--was making with the siege of that town, in
which Mayenne commanded for the princes. On the 23rd they arrived in the
Royal camp, where they were met by the Duc de Rohan, La Rochefoucauld,
Saint-Géran and Saint-Luc, who conducted them to the general’s quarters.
To their astonishment, they learned that, though Auvergne had been
blockading Soissons for more than ten days, the trenches had not yet
been opened; indeed, it appeared to be an open question whether he was
to be regarded as the besieger or the besieged, since they found him
engaged in giving instructions for the erection of formidable earthworks
to defend his troops against the perpetual sorties of the garrison, who
gave him no rest. Only the previous night, Mayenne, who possessed all
the dashing courage of his House, had sallied out, bringing with him two
field-pieces, attacked and practically destroyed the regiment of
Bussy-Lameth,[119] made its colonel prisoner and carried off its
colours, which were now mockingly displayed on the bastions of the town.
However, notwithstanding this unfortunate incident, Auvergne seemed
brimful of confidence, and assured them that within a fortnight he would
be master of Soissons.
The next day, after making the round of the camp, under the guidance of
an officer, who pointed out to him the parts of the town which it was
proposed to bombard, Bassompierre agreed with La Rochefoucauld, who,
like himself, was a visitor to Auvergne’s army, to show their hosts what
fine fellows they were, and to do what at this epoch, when rashness so
often passed for valour, appears to have been regarded as a proof of the
highest courage.
“As we were of a different army,” says he, “and wished to let them
see that we had no fear of musket-shots, we went out to draw the
enemy’s fire upon us. They, however, allowed us to approach without
firing, and, since we did not wish to return without seeing them
shoot, we walked right up to the edge of the moat. Still they did
not fire. When we noticed their silence, we broke ours and shouted
insults at them, which they returned, but never fired a shot. At
length, after talking together for rather a long time, just as if
we belonged to the same side, we retired; and they let us depart
without once firing at us.”
The explanation of this singular conduct on the part of the besieged was
not long in coming. That evening, Bassompierre, with Auvergne and Rohan,
were supping with the Président Chevret, of the Chambre des Comptes, who
had come to visit the army in connection with some legal business, when
one of the president’s clerks arrived in all haste from Paris and
whispered something to his master, who appeared very astonished. Then
Chevret turned and spoke in a low voice to Auvergne, who sat next him,
and Bassompierre remarked that the prince seemed no less astonished than
the president. He begged them to let him know what news they had
received, upon which they told him that, at eleven o’clock that morning,
the Maréchal d’Ancre had been killed by the Marquis de Vitry, one of the
captains of the Guards, and that it had been done by the King’s orders!
Then Bassompierre remembered that when, a few hours before, he and La
Rochefoucauld were standing on the edge of the moat of Soissons, one of
the garrison had shouted to them: “Your master is dead, and ours has
killed him!”--words to which he had attached no importance at the
time--and marvelled that the enemy should have received so much earlier
information of the event than the Royal army.
But let us see what had been happening in Paris since Bassompierre’s
departure for the army in the middle of March, which had culminated in
the tragedy of that morning.
* * * * *
We have related, in the last chapter, how Marie de’ Medici and Concini
had begun to grow suspicious of the influence that Louis XIII’s
favourite, Luynes, had acquired over the mind of the young King, and how
a rumour had spread that he was about to be banished from the Court. No
action, however, had been taken against him; nevertheless, Luynes felt
quite certain that his disgrace was only a question of time, and he
resolved to anticipate his enemies. Clever and crafty, greedy and
ambitious, and entirely without scruple, this Provençal was a dangerous
man, and, while seeking by a show of subservience to the Queen-Mother
and the marshal to disarm the suspicions they had formed of him and so
secure a respite to enable him to execute his projects, he worked
unceasingly to embitter the young King’s mind against them. He succeeded
so well that at length Louis was fully persuaded that his crown and even
his life were in peril, and that his mother and Concini contemplated
setting his younger brother on the throne, in order to have a new
minority to exploit.
Having persuaded the King of his danger, Luynes spoke of the various
means of escaping it, and these were debated in midnight councils
between the King of France, his favourite, Déageant, Barbin’s chief
clerk, who had been gained over by Luynes,[120] an obscure priest, three
gentlemen, a soldier, a gardener from the Tuileries, and some valets.
The composition of this strange council, as Henri Martin observes, was
indeed a biting satire on the education which Marie de’ Medici had given
her son and the isolation in which she had left him. The King proposed
to make his escape from Paris and to retire to Amboise, of which place
Luynes was governor, or to join the army of the Princes. But Luynes, who
desired to render the mother and the son irreconcilable, rejected these
expedients in favour of one more easy and more sure: that of getting rid
of Concini by surprise. And this was decided upon.
The Marquis de Montpouillan, one of the sons of the Maréchal de la
Force, and a playmate of Louis XIII in his boyhood, was admitted to
their confidence; and Montpouillan, a young man of a bold and violent
disposition, offered to poniard Concini in the King’s cabinet, if his
Majesty would but get him there. The marshal came; but, at the last
moment, Luynes’s courage failed him, and he would not allow the design
to be executed.
The conspirators then addressed themselves to the Marquis de Vitry, one
of the captains of the Guards, who entered on his term of service at the
beginning of April. He was a son of that Vitry who had arrested Biron at
Fontainebleau fifteen years earlier, and one of the few men at the Court
who had refused to bow before the power of the favourite. Assured that
Vitry would be prepared to execute any orders that he might receive,
Louis XIII sent for him and directed him to arrest the Maréchal d’Ancre
as he was entering the Louvre to visit the Queen-Mother, which he did
every morning when he was in Paris. The bâton of a marshal of France
was to be his reward, if he succeeded. “But, if he defends himself?”
said Vitry. “Then,” cried Montpouillan, “the King intends you to kill
him!” “Sire, do you command me?” asked the officer, turning to the King.
“Yes, I command you to do it,” was the reply.
About ten o’clock on April 24, Concini entered the Louvre by the great
gate on the side of Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois, accompanied by some fifty
gentlemen. The moment he passed the gate, a signal was given and it was
closed; and Vitry, followed by several of his men with pistols hidden
beneath their cloaks, advanced to meet him. He joined the marshal
between the drawbridge and the bridge which led to the inner court of
the palace, and laying his hand on his right arm, said: “The King
commands me to seize your person.” “_À moi!_” cried Concini; but
scarcely had he spoken, than several pistol-shots rang out, and he fell
dead on the parapet of the bridge. “It is by order of the King,” cried
Vitry, and the murdered favourite’s followers, who had laid their hands
on their swords, dispersed without attempting to avenge him.
Louis XIII and Luynes were waiting anxiously in the King’s _cabinet des
armes_, prepared to fly if the blow miscarried, for which purpose a
coach was in readiness near the Tuileries. The cries of “_Vive le Roi!_”
told them that it had succeeded, and a moment later d’Ornano, the
colonel of the Corsicans, son of the marshal of that name, came knocking
at the door of the cabinet. “Sire,” cried he, “now you are King! The
Maréchal d’Ancre is dead!” Louis XIII hurried to the window, and
d’Ornano, seizing his young sovereign round the body, lifted him up to
show him to the cheering crowd of gentlemen and soldiers of the Guard
who had gathered in the courtyard below. “_Merci! Merci à vous!_” cried
Louis, and then repeated the words of d’Ornano: “Now I am King!”
The King gave orders that the Parlement and the municipal authorities
should be informed of what had occurred, and announced his intention of
recalling “the old servants of his father.” Villeroy, Jeannin, and the
oldest of the Counsellors of State at once hurried to the Louvre, and
couriers were despatched to summon the Sillerys and the ex-Keeper of the
Seals, Du Vair, who had been banished from Paris.
Meantime, tidings of the tragedy had been carried to the Queen-Mother.
Marie understood at once that it was the end of her power. “_Povretta de
mi!_” she exclaimed. “I have reigned for seven years; I have nothing
more to expect but a crown in heaven!” One of her attendants remarked
that they did not know how to break the terrible news to the Maréchale
d’Ancre, who was in her own apartments. But at such a moment the Queen
had no thought for anyone but herself. “I have many other things to
think about,” she exclaimed impatiently. “Do not speak to me any more
about those people.” And she refused to see her hapless favourite, who,
a few minutes later, was arrested and conducted to the Bastille. Marie
then sent one of her gentlemen to her son to request an interview. It
was curtly refused, and shortly afterwards her guards were removed from
the ante-chamber and replaced by soldiers of the Gardes du Corps, every
exit from her apartments, save one, blocked up, and she found herself a
prisoner.
Marie’s Ministers fell with her. Mangot, the Keeper of the Seals, was at
the Louvre; Luynes took the Seals from his hands and bade him begone.
Barbin was arrested and sent to join the widow of Concini in the
Bastille. Richelieu attempted to make head against the storm and
repaired to the King’s apartments, where he found his Majesty receiving
the felicitations of a crowd of courtiers with the air of one who had
just gained a great battle. The King received him graciously enough, and
told him that he knew him to be a stranger to the evil designs of the
Maréchal d’Ancre and that “it was his intention to treat him well”;
while Luynes advised him to go to the Council, which was assembling. He
went and found Villeroy, Jeannin and Du Vair seated at the
council-table. Villeroy, with a triumphant air, demanded in what quality
M. de Luçon presented himself there; the others “continued to expedite
affairs without occupying themselves with him.” “And so,” he writes,
“after having been in that place long enough to say that I had entered
there, I softly withdrew.”
While this revolution of the palace was proceeding, Paris resounded with
acclamations, and when evening fell, bonfires blazed at all the
crossways. The people went almost frantic with joy at their deliverance
from the arrogant foreign favourite whom they had come to regard as a
public enemy. The Parlement, which hastened to declare that “the King
was not bound to justify his action,” the municipality, all the public
bodies of the town, sent deputations to felicitate his Majesty, and
everyone applauded his _coup de main_ as if he had committed the finest
action in the world. “They gave him the name of ‘Just,’ for having
caused a man to be killed without trial!” observes Henri Martin.
This explosion of public joy was followed by atrocious scenes. The
following morning some noblemen’s lackeys, followed by a rabble drawn
from the dregs of the populace, entered the Church of Saint-Germain
l’Auxerrois, where the body of Concini, “naked, in a wretched sheet,”
had been secretly buried the previous night, disinterred it, dragged it
through the streets with obscene cries, in which the name of the
Queen-Mother was mingled with that of the murdered marshal, and finished
by tearing it to pieces and burning the remains before the statue of
Henri IV on the Pont-Neuf.
* * * * *
At three o’clock in the morning of the 25th, the Comte de Tavannes,
grandson of the celebrated marshal of that name, arrived in Auvergne’s
camp with orders from the King to suspend hostilities against Soissons;
and, a few hours later, Bassompierre and his party set out for Paris.
Scarcely had they crossed the Aisne, than they encountered a regiment of
Liégeois cavalry, part of the force which had been raised by Concini for
service against the Princes. The Liégeois, who had just learned of the
marshal’s assassination, called upon them to halt, and their officers
held a sort of informal council of war. Bassompierre suspected that it
was their intention to take him and his friends along with them as
hostages for their safe return to their own country; and when presently
an officer detached himself from the rest and came towards them, he
assumed the air of a hunted fugitive and, before the other had time to
open his mouth, inquired anxiously whether, if his party joined them,
they would undertake not to surrender them if called upon to do so. The
officer, thinking from this that they must be some of the Maréchal
d’Ancre’s personal following, who were perhaps pursued, told him bluntly
the Liégeois had quite enough to do to provide for their own safety, and
that everyone must look to himself. Upon which he turned on his heel and
rejoined his comrades, and the whole regiment mounted their horses and
rode away. Bassompierre and his friends waited until they were out of
sight, and then resumed their journey to Paris.