Luynes succeeds to the power and wealth of Concini--Trial and
execution of Concini’s widow, Leonora Galigaï--Luynes begins to
direct affairs of State--His marriage to Marie de Rohan--Conduct of
the Duc d’Epernon--His quarrel with Du Vair, the Keeper of the
Seals--His disgrace--He begins to intrigue with the
Queen-Mother--Escape of the latter from Blois--Treaty of
Angoulême--The Court at Tours--Arnauld d’Andilly’s account of
Bassompierre’s lavish hospitality--Favours bestowed by the King on
Bassompierre--Meeting between Louis XIII and the
Queen-Mother--Liberation of Condé--Bassompierre entertains the King
at Monceaux--He is admitted to the Ordre du Saint-Esprit.
The heir of the power of Concini was Luynes. He was, as we have
mentioned, a gentleman of Provence--a very unimportant gentleman the
Court had thought him before he had contrived to insinuate himself into
the good graces of the young King. His father, an officer of fortune,
the fruit, if we are to believe Richelieu, of a _liaison_ between one
d’Albert, a canon of Marseilles, and a chambermaid, was the owner of the
Château of Luynes, near Aix, the vineyard of Brantes, and the islet of
Cadenet in the middle of the Rhone, _seigneuries_, says Bassompierre,
which a hare could jump over, but which, in default of revenues,
furnished titles for his three sons. Charles Albert, the eldest, had
begun life as page to the Comte du Lude, and was afterwards placed by
Henri IV with the Dauphin. Both he and his younger brothers, Brantes and
Cadenet, were exceedingly good-looking men, skilled in all bodily
exercises, well-educated and possessed of ingratiating manners; but
there were no limits to their ambition or their greed, and they did not
intend to allow any little scruples to stand in the way of their
advancement.
Despite the adage:
“Devrait-on hériter de ceux qu’on assassine,”
Luynes inherited, not only the power of Concini, but also the greater
part of his charges and possessions: lieutenancy-general of Normandy,
government of the Pont-de-l’Arche, domain of Ancre (the name of which
was changed to Albert), his post of First Gentleman of the Chamber, his
hôtel in Paris, his estate of Lesigny, and so forth. When people saw the
confiscated property of the Concini pass straight from the royal demesne
into the greedy hands of the new favourite, they began to ask themselves
whether the country was after all likely to gain much by the change that
had taken place.
But the confiscation of the property of the Florentine couple, though it
might suffice, for the moment, the cupidity of Luynes, did not suffice
his policy. He desired to widen the gulf which he had opened between
Louis XIII and his mother,[127] by dragging the name of the latter
through the mire of a criminal court; and, at his instigation, the
Maréchale d’Ancre was brought to trial as a sorceress who had bewitched
the Queen-Mother by her arts,[128] and on July 8, 1617, condemned to be
burned alive in the Place de Grève for the crime of _lèse-majesté_ human
and divine.
It was with great difficulty, however, that Luynes succeeded in
obtaining this verdict. The Advocate-General, Lebret, at first refused
to demand the death penalty, and it was only on Luynes giving him his
word that the prisoner would be pardoned after the decree that he
consented to do so. But the only clemency that the unfortunate woman was
able to obtain was that her head should be cut off before her body was
committed to the flames. She died with great courage and resignation.
* * * * *
The death of Villeroy, in November, 1617, enfeebled the group of old
counsellors who had been recalled to office after the assassination of
Concini; and Luynes, whose favour with the King was constantly
increasing, began to direct the State, although he was totally ignorant
of public affairs. His Government benefited for some time by the
unpopularity of the Maréchal d’Ancre; the grandees remained tranquil,
and Luynes, by his marriage with the beautiful Marie de Rohan, daughter
of the Duc de Montbazon, destined one day to become so celebrated under
the name of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, assured himself of the support of
the House of Rohan.
Alone amongst the great nobles, d’Épernon did not hurry himself to come
and compliment the King on his assumption of the government of his realm
and to salute the man to whom he had delegated the royal authority. As
Colonel-General of the French Infantry, d’Épernon was a power in the
land, and when at last, towards the end of March, 1618, he condescended
to visit the Court, the colonels of all the regiments stationed in and
around Paris and in Picardy and Champagne went so far as Étampes to
meet him and escort him to the capital. Haughty and choleric and
excessively touchy on the question of his rights, this former _mignon_
of Henri III was not long in mortally offending the King, already
incensed against him by his long delay in presenting himself at Court,
which Luynes had not failed to represent as a gross want of the respect
due to his sovereign.
Finding that Du Vair, to whom the Seals had been restored after the
dismissal of Mangot, was in the habit of taking his seat at the Council
above all the nobles, even when the Chancellor was present, although the
Keeper of the Seals was not an officer of the Crown, his gorge rose at
once, and he went to the King to protest against so intolerable an
affront to his own dignity and that of his order. Du Vair happened to be
with the King, and, says Bassompierre, “as M. d’Épernon was a little
violent, he attacked the Keeper of the Seals, who answered him more
sharply than he should have done.” Three days later, Louis XIII summoned
the duke and Du Vair to his cabinet, and, in the presence of
Bassompierre and several other courtiers, ordered them to be reconciled.
By way of answer, d’Épernon shrugged his shoulders, upon which the young
monarch, who was seated, rose in great indignation, and severely
reprimanded him. Then, observing that he had affairs of importance to
attend to, he abruptly quitted the room.
D’Épernon retired, followed by Bassompierre, but, to their astonishment,
they found all the doors of the ante-chamber closed and locked. It
looked “as though the King intended to have the duke arrested, and had
given orders for the doors to be secured, in order to allow time for an
officer of the Guards to be summoned.” However, it occurred to
Bassompierre that perhaps the door leading to the King’s private
staircase, which was opposite that of his chamber, might not be locked,
and, finding it unfastened, he fetched d’Épernon, and they descended
the stairs and made their way to the Salle Haute, where the old noble’s
attendants were awaiting him.
As d’Épernon was leaving the Louvre, he asked his friend “to send him
warning if anything had been resolved against him.” Bassompierre
accordingly spoke to Luynes on the subject, and was informed that, as M.
d’Épernon intended going to his government of Metz, he would be well
advised to hasten his departure, since there were persons who might
incite the King against him. Bassompierre, of course, understood very
well who it was who was likely to incite the King.
On being assured that his Majesty was prepared to treat him as though
nothing had happened when he went to ask permission to retire to Metz,
d’Épernon proceeded to the Louvre, where the King received him “with a
very good countenance,” and granted his request. Louis XIII was under
the impression that the duke intended to leave Paris the following day;
but, five days later, while the King was at Vanves, a village in the
environs of the capital, he learned that d’Épernon was still there and
that a great number of people were visiting him. His Majesty angrily
told Bassompierre that if, when he returned to Paris on the morrow, he
found M. d’Épernon there, it would be the worse for him; and Luynes
advised Bassompierre to go and tell him that “he would not remain much
longer, if he were wise.” This he did, and d’Épernon requested him to
inform the King that he would leave Paris before noon on the morrow. He
took his departure within the time specified, but, instead of proceeding
to Metz, he only went so far as Fontenay-en-Brie, near Coulommiers,
where he had a country-seat. Louis XIII was furious, and proposed to
send a detachment of the Guards to arrest him; but the Chancellor,
Sillery, who was a friend of d’Épernon, sent a messenger in all haste to
the duke to warn him of what was intended, and d’Épernon, recognising
that he had presumed too far on the young monarch’s forbearance, lost no
time in resuming his journey to Metz.
Although d’Épernon had only himself to blame for his disgrace, he was
none the less bitterly incensed against the King and his favourite; and,
to avenge his outraged dignity, forthwith proceeded to establish a
secret correspondence with the Queen-Mother, whom he urged to protest by
force of arms against the treatment she was receiving, and promised to
support by every means in his power.
Marie required little prompting: she had already resolved to make her
escape. Thanks to the enmity of Luynes, she found herself little better
than a prisoner in the Château of Blois; all correspondence with persons
at the Court was forbidden her; Richelieu, who had aroused the
suspicions of the favourite, had been banished to Avignon, and other
members of her entourage had also been removed. Nevertheless, she
dissimulated her resentment, and in April, 1619, consented, at the
instance of a Jesuit, Père Arnoux, whom Luynes sent to her, to sign a
declaration, in which she swore “before God and His angels,” to submit
in all things to the wishes of the King, and to warn him immediately of
“all communications and overtures contrary to his service.”
Luynes, however, continued to offend her. At the end of 1618, an embassy
from Savoy came to Paris to demand the hand of her younger daughter,
Christine, for the Prince of Piedmont, eldest son of Charles Emmanuel.
Marie was not consulted, the King confining himself to informing her of
the betrothal; and on February 10, 1619, the marriage was celebrated
without her being invited. It was the last straw; she resolved to fly at
the first favourable opportunity. D’Épernon, anticipating her intention,
had left Metz, towards the end of January, without permission of the
King, and gone to await her in the Angoumois; and, in the night of
February 21-22, Marie made her escape to Blois and went to Angoulême,
whence she wrote to her son, demanding the redress of her grievances.
Luynes was at first greatly alarmed, fearing that the Princes, already
beginning to show signs of irritation at the increasing power of the
favourite, might join the Queen-Mother; but they remained quiet. In
these circumstances, he might easily have crushed d’Épernon; but he
wished to avoid war, and accordingly sent the Cardinal de la
Rochefoucauld and Père Bérulle, the famous preacher of the Oratoire, to
propose peace to Marie, and recalled Richelieu from Avignon “to pacify
her mind.” In this task the prelate succeeded, and on April 30, 1619, he
signed with the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld a treaty at Angoulême which
authorised the Queen-Mother to dispose of the offices of her Household
and to reside where she pleased, and gave her, in exchange for the
government of Normandy, that of Anjou, with the Château of Angers, the
Ponts-de-Cé and Chinon. D’Épernon, against whom the usual royal
declaration had been launched, recovered his charges and appointments,
and Richelieu was given to understand that he might hope for a
cardinal’s hat at no very distant date.
However, Louis XIII, who had been on the point of setting out with the
Court for the Loire when the news that peace had been signed reached
him, determined to carry out his intention, Luynes no doubt thinking
that, in view of the possibility of further trouble with the
Queen-Mother, a visit of the young King to that part of his realm might
be productive of good results. After a short stay at different towns,
including Amboise, from which letters announcing the peace were sent to
the Parlement of Paris for registration, at the end of May the Court
arrived at Tours, where, says Bassompierre, “we remained three months
and passed our time very pleasantly.”
Arnauld d’Andilly, in his _Mémoires_, has left us an interesting picture
of life at Tours and, more particularly, of the lavish hospitality
dispensed by Bassompierre:--
“While at Tours, I happened to be lodged near M. de Bassompierre,
who kept a table which you might say was worthy of one of the
greatest nobles of the Court, since it was always full. He did me
the honour to invite me to come every day and pressed me in such
fashion that, not being acquainted with any of these grandees so
intimately that I believed myself competent to say that there was
no one in France of my condition who lived so habitually or on such
familiar terms with them, I was unable to refuse a civility so
obliging. Those whom I met there were, apart from their rank,
persons of a merit so great, that some had filled already, and
others have filled since, the most important offices of State, and
commanded armies. Thus, there was much to learn from their
conversation, and nothing was more agreeable than the pleasant
familiarity with which they lived together. Ceremony, the
constraint of which is insupportable to those who are nourished in
the air of the great world, was unknown there. Each one seated
himself where he pleased. Those who came the latest never failed to
find a place at the table, although the others may already have
been there a long while. However great was the good cheer provided,
no one ever spoke about eating. People came without saying
good-day, and went away without saying adieu. And the conversation
ranged over all kinds of topics, and was, not only agreeable, but
instructive.”
On leaving Tours, the Court paid short visits to Le Lude, in the Maine,
where the King was the guest of the Comte du Lude, whose page Luynes had
once been, La Flèche, and Durtal, where he was entertained by the Comte
de Schomberg. His Majesty was exceedingly gracious to Bassompierre about
this time. On the death of the old Swiss colonel Galatty he offered him
the choice of that veteran’s appointments; gave him the Abbey of
Honnecourt, in the diocese of Cambrai, for one of his ecclesiastical
friends, who appears to have contented himself with drawing the revenues
of the benefice and did not even take the trouble to get instituted
until twenty-five years later; and bestowed other favours upon him.
At the beginning of September, the Court returned to Tours, the King
having decided that it would be advisable to placate his mother, who was
complaining that the terms of the treaty signed at Angoulême had not
been properly executed, by a personal interview. On September 4 Marie
de’ Medici arrived at Couzières, a country-house belonging to Luynes’s
father-in-law, the Duc de Montbazon, where she was received by the
favourite, who was accompanied by all the princes and great nobles. On
the following day she arrived at Tours, being met at some little
distance from the town by Anne of Austria and all the princesses.
Marie remained with the King until the 19th, and then left for Chinon
_en route_ for Angers, while the Court proceeded to Amboise.
Bassompierre does not give us any information about Louis XIII’s
attitude to his mother during these two weeks, but, if we are to believe
Richelieu, he showed towards her “an incredible tenderness.” Anyway,
Luynes appears to have become very uneasy, fearing lest the meeting at
Tours might lead to a more or less complete reconciliation between
mother and son; and one of his first acts when the Court returned to
Paris was to persuade the King to set Condé at liberty and restore him
to all his offices and dignities (October 20, 1619). He judged--and
rightly, as it proved--that the harsh treatment to which the first
Prince of the Blood had been subjected during the early months of his
imprisonment in the Bastille would have so embittered him against the
Queen-Mother, that he could be trusted to use all his influence to
prevent the _rapprochement_ which the favourite had so much cause to
dread. And, to nullify the effects of the “incredible tenderness” of
which Richelieu speaks, he caused to be inserted in the declaration of
Condé’s innocence, which was registered by the Parlement on November 26,
words which could not fail to be most offensive to Marie de’ Medici:
“Being informed,” said the King, “of the reasons by which his detention
has been excused, I have found that there was no cause, save the
machinations and evil designs of his enemies, who desired to join the
ruin of my State to that of my cousin.”
In November, the King spent a fortnight at Monceaux, and Bassompierre,
who was captain of the château, entertained him most magnificently. At
the close of the year there was a large promotion to the Ordre du
Saint-Esprit, five prelates and fifty-nine nobles being admitted.
Bassompierre was amongst the latter, his name figuring twenty-fourth on
the list of the new knights.
The promotions to the Ordre du Saint-Esprit furnished Marie de’ Medici
with yet another grievance, and she complained bitterly that they
comprised all her chief enemies, to the exclusion of the friends whom
she had recommended. Luynes seemed bent on exasperating her beyond
endurance, and on making her little Court at Angers, where she had now
established herself, a centre of disaffection.