Bassompierre goes on a mission to Charles IV of Lorraine--He
returns to France--The Venetian Ambassador Contarini informs the
marshal that it is rumoured that a secret treaty has been signed
between France and Spain--Richelieu authorises Bassompierre to deny
that such a treaty exists, but the same day the marshal learns from
the King that the French Ambassador at Madrid has signed a treaty,
though unauthorised to do so--Indignation of Bassompierre, who,
however, refrains from denouncing the treaty, which it is decided
not to disavow--Explanation of this diplomatic imbroglio--Growing
strength of the aristocratic opposition to Richelieu--The marriage
of _Monsieur_--The “_Conspiration des Dames_”--Intrigues of the
Duchesse de Chevreuse--Madame de Chevreuse and Chalais--Objects of
the conspirators--Arrest of the Maréchal d’Ornano--Indignation of
_Monsieur_--Conversation of Bassompierre with the prince--Plot
against the life or liberty of Richelieu--Chalais is forced by the
Commandeur de Valençay to reveal it to the Cardinal--“The quarry is
no longer at home!”--Alarm of _Monsieur_--His abject submission to
the King and Richelieu--He resumes his intrigues--Chalais is again
involved in the conspiracy by Madame de Chevreuse--Arrest of the
Duc de Vendôme and his half-brother the Grand Prior.
Before proceeding to Nancy, Bassompierre paid a visit to his younger
brother, now Marquis de Removille, and his family at Mirecourt, and
spent a day at his own château of Harouel. On March 3 he made his entry
into Nancy, escorted by a great number of the nobility of Lorraine, who
were assembled there for the meeting of the Estates, and was lodged in
the Palace, where he was very hospitably entertained. Amongst those whom
he met was the Prince de Phalsbourg, a natural son of the late Cardinal
Louis de Guise, who gave a banquet in his honour, and Marguerite de
Lorraine, youngest daughter of Duke François, who in 1632 became the
second wife of _Monsieur_.
His mission, which related to the candidature of Charles IV’s younger
brother for the bishopric of Strasbourg, was soon discharged, and on
March 16 he reached Paris, after an absence of four months. Louis XIII
received him very graciously, and took him to visit the Queen-Mother,
and afterwards to the apartments of Anne of Austria, whose position
since her little escapade with Buckingham had been far from a pleasant
one, her royal husband treating her with the most marked coldness.
At the Court Bassompierre found the Prince de Piedmont, who had been
sent by his father, Charles Emmanuel, to persuade Louis XIII to
prosecute the war in Italy with the utmost vigour during the coming
spring. Créquy had been despatched to Paris by the Constable with the
same object; and they begged Bassompierre to go with them so soon as
possible to the King, when they hoped that their united solicitations
would induce his Majesty to come to a decision in accordance with their
wishes.
There was certainly every indication that the French Government were
disposed to a vigorous offensive. At the beginning of February peace had
been signed with the Huguenots, and they were now free to employ all
their resources against the foreign enemy. The King had appointed the
Prince of Piedmont lieutenant-general of his armies beyond the Alps, and
had promised reinforcements of 8,000 foot and 1,000 horse to the Army of
Italy, to which he intended to send the bulk of the troops now in the
Valtellina; while Bassompierre, with the levy which the Swiss cantons
had promised, was, it was understood, to invade the Milanese. However,
the hopes of the anti-Spanish party and of France’s allies were about to
be rudely shattered.
Two or three days after Bassompierre’s return, he happened to visit the
Venetian Ambassador, Contarini, who told him that the republic’s
representative at Madrid had sent information that a secret treaty had
been signed there between France and Spain. The marshal affected to
treat the matter as a _canard_ and assured him that it was impossible;
nevertheless, he felt decidedly uneasy, and having to go and see
Richelieu that evening to give him an account of his mission to
Switzerland, he told him what Contarini had said.
“He [Richelieu] pressed my hand and answered that I might be
assured that there was no thought of a treaty, and that the
Spaniards were, after their knavish fashion, spreading false
reports to create ill feeling between us and our allies, whom I
could reassure. And this I resolved to do and to go on the morrow
to visit Contarini, to set his mind at rest on this matter. The
same evening I saw the Prince of Piedmont and told him of the
apprehensions of Contarini, of how I had acquainted the Cardinal de
Richelieu with them, and of the answer he had given me. The Prince
replied that the Venetians were speculative and suspicious people,
who retailed their dreams and their imaginations as authoritative
news; that they had spread this report from suspicion rather than
from any information they had obtained; and that, for himself, he
was perfectly sure that no negotiations to the prejudice of the
League or to our present projects were in progress.”
Bassompierre left the Prince and proceeded to the Queen’s apartments,
where he found Créquy. Presently, a message came from Louis XIII
summoning the two marshals to the Queen-Mother’s cabinet, where they
found the King in company with Marie de’ Medici, Schomberg, and
d’Herbault.[30] To their astonishment, the King informed them that he
had just received a treaty which had been made with Spain, _without his
knowledge_, by Du Fargis, and ordered d’Herbault to read it to them.
This document stipulated that the sovereignty of the Valtellina was to
be restored to the Grisons, but it was to be confined to a simple right
of tribute, with a confirmation purely nominal of the magistrates whom
the Valtelliners might appoint; while the Catholic religion was alone
to be permitted in that country. The passes were to remain at the
disposal of France, but the forts were to be surrendered to the Pope to
be demolished. The Kings of France and Spain were to intervene to
re-establish peace between Savoy and Genoa.
“We found it,” says Bassompierre, “so badly conceived, so badly
drafted and so contrary to reason, so disgraceful for France, so
opposed to the interests of the League, and so damaging to the
Grisons, that, although at first we were persuaded that it had been
made by order of the King, but that he wished, in order to appease
his allies, to appear to know nothing about it, we finally believed
that it had been concluded contrary to his orders. And this obliged
us to dissuade the King from accepting and ratifying it.”
Louis XIII told the three marshals[31] and d’Herbault to go on the
following morning to the Petit-Luxembourg and confer with Richelieu, and
to return with the Cardinal in the afternoon to the Queen-Mother’s
cabinet, where a meeting of the Council was to be held. Meanwhile, they
were to say nothing about the matter to the Prince de Piedmont.
Bassompierre tells us that “never was he more provoked to speak against
anything than against this infamous treaty”, and that “his mind was so
excited, that he was more than two hours in bed without being able to
get to sleep, projecting a number of reasons which he wished to lay
before the Council on the morrow against this affair.” But, when he rose
in the morning, he reflected that perhaps, notwithstanding the King’s
protestations to the contrary, he might have given authority to Du
Fargis to sign the treaty, under the influence of the Queen-Mother, “who
wished to make peace between her children,”[32] or of the cardinal,
“who, seeing troubles increasing within the State, wished to make peace
outside it,” and that, if they intended to ratify it, he would be only
injuring himself to no purpose by denouncing it too warmly. He therefore
decided to be on his guard and to watch carefully which way the wind was
blowing; and when he went to see Richelieu, he “listened more than he
spoke.” He did wisely, for “the Cardinal was very cautious and opened
his mind but little, blaming only the levity, precipitation, and want of
judgment shown by Du Fargis, who, he said, merited capital punishment
for having concluded an affair of such consequence without instructions
from the King.” It was the same at the Council, where “he perceived that
everyone was more concerned to blame the workman than to demolish the
work, and to discuss the means by which the treaty might be amended than
to propose to disavow or break it.” This removed any doubt that he might
have had that the Government desired peace with Spain, and that Du
Fargis, though he had not obtained the terms desired, had been empowered
to treat for it. He therefore begged the King to excuse him from
expressing an opinion, and withdrew, as, being an honest man, he refused
to associate himself with a treaty whose existence Richelieu had only
the previous evening authorised him to deny.
Richelieu, both at the time and afterwards, declared positively that
this peace was not of his making. This, in a sense, is true. It was Père
Bérulle, of the Oratory, who had some time before become the _directeur_
of the Queen-Mother’s conscience, and the Spanish faction to whom the
credit--or rather discredit--of it belonged. It was they who had
instigated Du Fargis to begin negotiations with the Court of Madrid, and
it was the hope of striking a better bargain with this irresponsible
diplomatist that had caused Philip suddenly to revoke the powers which
he had given to Mirabello, his Ambassador in France. But when the
treaty, which had been signed on New Year’s Day, 1626, reached Paris in
the middle of January, Du Fargis was not recalled or disavowed. The
matter was
[Illustration: FRANÇOIS, SEIGNEUR DE BASSOMPIERRE, MARQUIS D’HAROUEL.
From a contemporary print.]
kept a profound secret, and instructions were sent to the Ambassador to
press for certain amendments. New articles were signed by Du Fargis at
the beginning of March, and it was these which were now under
discussion. The treaty, with some further modifications, was finally
signed at Monzon on May 2.
If therefore this peace, which, to all appearance, reversed Richelieu’s
whole policy, was not of the Cardinal’s making, he accepted and adopted
it, with cynical contempt for the allies of France, Venice, Savoy, and
the Grisons, who found themselves treated, not as confederates but as
vassals, whose interests might be dealt with without the necessity of
consulting them. Richelieu’s excuse was that Charles Emmanuel would
undoubtedly have insisted on the negotiations being broken off had he
been informed of them.
The astonishment and indignation in London, Venice, Turin, and among the
Grisons was extreme. The Venetians and the Grisons had too much need of
France not to accept the explanations which Richelieu offered them; but
Charles Emmanuel, deceived in his ambitious hopes at the moment when he
believed that they were about to be realised, conceived against the
Cardinal the most bitter resentment. As for Buckingham, who had brought
strong pressure to bear on the Huguenots to induce them to make peace,
and was pluming himself on having thereby deprived France of any excuse
for not vigorously prosecuting the war against Spain, he felt himself
cheated and outwitted, and his vanity was as deeply wounded as was the
Duke of Savoy’s ambition.
Imperative motives had, however, imposed peace upon Richelieu. For the
security of the Crown and the eventual liberty of Europe, it was
absolutely necessary for him to extricate himself from foreign
embarrassments with the least possible delay. He was convinced, as
Bassompierre suspected, that obstacles within the State must be overcome
before France could actively embark upon enterprises outside it. Any
really effective action against the House of Austria was, in his
judgment, impossible, so long as the Huguenots remained a great faction,
ready to profit by the embarrassments of the Government to hinder its
operations, and while the grandees, on their side, were thwarting
openly, or by secret intrigues, the royal authority.
For the conspiracies of the Court had not contributed less than the
revolt of the Huguenots to determine him to make peace. A formidable
cabal threatened his power and even his life.
* * * * *
As the favour of Richelieu increased, so did the aristocratic opposition
to him gather strength. The grandees of the kingdom were indignant that
a Minister should presume to govern in the general interest, instead of
in their own, and made ready to draw the sword, if need be, against him
as they had against Concini and Luynes. Conspiracy and revolt were in
the air, and men and women caballed incessantly, “persuaded that the
Cardinal was not a dangerous enemy and that they had nothing to fear
from him.”
For some time past Marie de’ Medici had been anxious for the marriage of
her younger son, Gaston, Duc d’Anjou, officially styled _Monsieur_, now
in his eighteenth year, a lively, frivolous, dissipated youth, who, when
the shades of evening fell, loved nothing better than to escape from the
Louvre and scour the streets in search of adventure. Gaston presented a
striking contrast to his austere, melancholy, and parsimonious brother,
but since his vices were such as the courtiers loved and profited by, he
was as popular with them as the King was the reverse; and it was an open
secret that the majority of them looked forward with pleasurable
anticipation to the not unlikely event of his succession to the throne.
The lady whom the Queen-Mother had chosen as a wife for Gaston was Marie
de Bourbon, Mlle. de Montpensier, only daughter of the late Duc de
Bourbon-Montpensier, a lively and attractive princess and the richest
heiress in France. Richelieu, after some hesitation, decided for the
match, influenced, it would seem, by the reflection that, if _Monsieur_
were ever so ill-advised as to raise the standard of revolt, there would
be no foreign alliance for him to rely upon. Louis XIII expressed his
approval, and nothing remained but to obtain the consent of Gaston.
And then the trouble began.
For various reasons the idea of the marriage was regarded with
disapproval by quite a number of illustrious persons. The young Comte de
Soissons, who wanted Mlle. de Montpensier for himself, was furiously
indignant, declaring that Marie de’ Medici had promised him the lady’s
hand during her regency; and his mother, the ambitious and meddlesome
Anne de Montafié, supported his pretensions. The Condés naturally
desired to see _Monsieur_ remain unmarried, since he alone stood before
them in the line of succession. The younger branches of the House of
Guise viewed with jealousy the increased importance which the head of
their family, who had married the widowed Duchesse de Montpensier, would
derive from the elevation of his step-daughter. Finally, Anne of
Austria, who had no children, saw in this alliance the last blow to her
hopes, for, if her sister-in-law became a mother, she would efface her
altogether. She accordingly determined “to do everything she could to
stop the marriage,”[33] and applied to her customary confidante, the
Duchesse de Chevreuse, for her advice and co-operation. That lady, the
most inveterate and dangerous _intrigante_ of her time, responded with
all the energy of her character and forthwith began to pull the strings
in every direction. Such was the origin of an affair which began by
being merely an intrigue of the Court, and which ended by becoming,
according to the saying of Richelieu, “one of the most frightful
conspiracies of which histories have made mention.”
The object of Anne of Austria and Madame de Chevreuse was to persuade
_Monsieur_ to refuse the bride who was offered him. Well, _Monsieur_ had
all his life his favourites for masters, and to persuade him it was
necessary to gain a man who at that time was in possession of his
confidence, and almost of his person, his _gouverneur_, the
_Surintendant_ of his Household, and the chief of his Council--the
Maréchal d’Ornano. It was therefore to him that they addressed
themselves.
Ornano had, as we have mentioned elsewhere, been disgraced and
imprisoned by La Vieuville, on a well-founded charge of developing
ambition in his pupil. But, when Richelieu succeeded to the control of
affairs, he was set at liberty, and restored to his offices, and at the
beginning of 1626 created a marshal of France, in the hope of inducing
him to lend his support to the Montpensier marriage. Richelieu, then,
might reasonably have expected some gratitude from Ornano; but,
unfortunately, gratitude found no place in the Corsican’s nature. Bold
and ambitious, he urged without ceasing the vain and foolish young
prince over whom he had acquired so great an ascendancy to assert his
claims to the place in the State to which his birth entitled him. When
_Monsieur_ demanded a place in the Council, he demanded to accompany
him, with the rank and title of Secretary of State; and the refusal he
received had greatly incensed him against Richelieu, and determined him
to seek some means of compassing the overthrow of the Minister who had
thwarted his ambition.
Madame de Chevreuse had long been on friendly terms with Ornano, who had
owed his fortune largely to the good offices of her first husband; and
she was aware of the grudge which he cherished against Richelieu. She
therefore anticipated little difficulty in gaining him over to the
Queen’s cause; but, in order to leave nothing to chance, she summoned to
her aid the Princesse de Condé, of whom Ornano, undaunted by the fact
that he was “the ugliest man possible to imagine,” was a _soupirant_.
The blandishments of _Madame la Princesse_ served to dissipate any
lingering scruples which the marshal might have entertained; he declared
himself a devoted servant of the Queen, and promised to do everything in
his power to dissuade _Monsieur_ from making Mlle. de Montpensier his
wife.
In this task he did not lack coadjutors, and every day the
“_Conspiration des Dames_,” as the anti-marriage cabal was called,
gathered fresh adherents. The Dowager-Comtesse de Soissons was beloved
by Alexandre de Vendôme, Grand Prior of France, the younger of Henri
IV’s two sons by Gabrielle d’Estrées, an unquiet spirit, with a positive
passion for mischievous intrigue, who nursed a grudge of his own against
Richelieu. She had no difficulty in persuading him to join the
conspiracy, and the Grand Prior, in his turn and with equal facility,
secured the adhesion of his elder brother, the Duc de Vendôme. The gay
and foolhardy young courtiers--Du Lude, La Rivière, Louvigny,
Puylaurens, Bois-d’Annemetz and others--who surrounded _Monsieur_,
espoused the same cause, either from dislike of the Cardinal, or from
the hope that a breach between their patron and the King might redound
to their advantage.
Every imaginable argument was employed to dissuade _Monsieur_ from a
marriage which threatened so many interests. They appealed in turn to
his love of pleasure, his vanity, and his ambition. They pointed out
that the joyous, irresponsible life which he had led hitherto would no
longer be possible when he had taken unto himself a wife, since the King
would then insist on his conducting himself with decorum. They deplored
the docility which gave him the air of being a child in the hands of his
mother, his brother, and the Cardinal, and urged him to assert his
independence by refusing to allow a wife to be chosen for him. They
reminded him that, although Mlle. de Montpensier was undoubtedly a great
heiress, she was one of his brother’s subjects, and that in marrying her
he would fall into greater subjection than ever to the King’s authority;
and they dangled before his eyes the prospect of a brilliant foreign
alliance, such as that with the Infanta Maria Anna, formerly the
betrothed of Charles I.
The Duchesse de Chevreuse was indefatigable in her efforts to secure
recruits for the cause, and made use of all her charms to overcome their
scruples. She was but too successful.
There was at this time in the King’s Household, and very near his
Majesty’s person, in virtue of his office as Master of the Wardrobe, a
young noble of twenty-seven, Henri de Talleyrand, Comte de Chalais, a
member of an ancient sovereign house of Périgord and, through his
mother, a grandson of the Maréchal de Montluc, author of the celebrated
_Commentaries_ to which Henri IV gave the name of “The Soldier’s Bible.”
“M. de Chalais,” writes Fontenay-Mareuil, “was young, well-made, very
adroit at all manly exercises, but, above all, very agreeable, which
rendered him a favourite with the ladies, who ruined him.” Brave to
rashness, he had distinguished himself on both the field of battle and
that of honour, and a duel he had fought with the Comte de Pontgibault,
in which the latter had been killed, was long talked of. Chalais was so
fortunate as to be a favourite of both the King and his brother, which
would make his support of peculiar value to the cabal, since he would be
able to add his persuasions to theirs to induce _Monsieur_ to refuse the
hand of Mlle. de Montpensier, and, at the same time, serve their
interests with the King by misleading him as to the intentions of the
malcontents. It was considered, however, very improbable that he could
be persuaded to follow _Monsieur’s_ fortunes, since he was known to
“ambition” the post of Colonel of the Light Cavalry, and to have an
excellent chance of securing it. But, unhappily for Chalais, there was
something that he desired still more than the command of the Light
Cavalry: he had been for some time past madly enamoured of Madame de
Chevreuse, and when that siren, who had not as yet condescended to
accept his devotion, began to show signs of relenting, it was all over
with him; and, oblivious of everything but this fatal passion, the
unfortunate young man allowed her to lead him whither she willed. The
consequence was that, before he had fully realised his position, he
found himself drawn into the very thick of the conspiracy which was to
bring him to his doom.
Madame de Chevreuse and Ornano were the soul of this league, which was
becoming extremely formidable, from the importance of the persons
implicated and the far-reaching character of their schemes. For the
coalition against the marriage of _Monsieur_ was only the starting-point
of a conspiracy which aimed at a complete change in the Government, and
whose ramifications extended far beyond the borders of France. Several
of the foreign ambassadors had entered it, and it was known and more or
less approved in England, Spain, Holland, and Savoy. The conspirators
were determined to demand for Gaston and Ornano the entry to the
Council, and afterwards to insist on the disgrace of Richelieu. If they
failed, it was their intention to persuade _Monsieur_ to retire from
Court, to take up arms and to appeal for foreign and Huguenot aid. In
the event of revolt, the most resolute proposed that the Cardinal should
be assassinated--a suggestion which was warmly supported by the Abbé
Scaglia, the ambassador of Savoy.
Richelieu, though he had eyes and ears everywhere at his service, had
not yet received more than vague warnings as to the designs of his
enemies. However, these had been sufficient for him to divine that some
plot hostile to the existing order of things was in progress, and that
_Monsieur_ was concerned in it.
Immediately after Easter the Court quitted Paris for Fontainebleau. On
the morrow of its arrival, _Monsieur_ had an interview with the King, in
which he declared that “it was a reproach and a shame to him that, being
his Majesty’s brother, he had neither share nor influence in affairs of
State.” He then demanded a seat in the Council and, at the same time,
angrily declined the hand of Mlle. de Montpensier, on the ground that “a
foreign alliance was necessary for his honour and prosperity.” The King
replied that he would consider his request and give him an answer in a
few days. The young prince waited for three or four, and then sent
Ornano to complain to Richelieu, but could get nothing more satisfactory
from his Eminence than that he was “the humble servant of _Monsieur_.”
In high indignation, Gaston sought out his mother and announced his
intention of quitting the Court. Marie soothed him by the promise that
the Council should meet to consider his demands, and he agreed to await
its decision.
Meanwhile, Louis XIII had consulted Richelieu, who did not fail to
stimulate his resentment against the pretensions that had been suggested
to his brother, and warned him that “in the matter of conspiracies, it
was almost impossible to have mathematical proofs, and that when the
circumstances were pressing, presumption ought to take their place.” The
arrest of Ornano was then decided upon.
On May 4 the King announced his intention of reviewing his Guards that
afternoon in the Cour du Cheval Blanc, “to give pleasure to the Queens
and Princesses,” who were to witness the spectacle from the Grand
Gallery of the Château. After dinner, Bassompierre, who was going to
Paris for a day or two “to stop one of his nieces de Saint-Luc from
becoming a nun,” went to take leave of the King, who suggested that he
had better wait and see the review; but the marshal, who was in a hurry
to be gone, excused himself. Early on the following morning, however, he
was awakened by the arrival of a gentleman named Bonnevaut, whom Louis
had sent to inform him that he had caused Ornano to be arrested and to
request him to return that day to Fontainebleau without fail.
With that dissimulation which he loved to display on such occasions,
Louis XIII had invited Ornano to witness the review and treated him with
unusual condescension. Afterwards, he had invited him to walk with him
in the Cour du Cheval Blanc, and, as though by chance, pointed out to
him the chamber where the Maréchal de Biron had been temporarily
confined after his arrest in 1602. That night Ornano was himself
arrested and conducted to the same apartment.
At the first news of the arrest of Ornano, which was brought to him just
after he had retired for the night _Monsieur_, beside himself with
indignation, hurriedly dressed and proceeded to the King’s apartments to
demand the immediate release of the marshal. He was told that his
Majesty could not be disturbed, and the same answer awaited him when he
went to the Queen-Mother.
On the morrow he went in search of the Ministers. The first whom he
found was the Chancellor, d’Aligre, who, intimidated by the anger of the
prince, assured him that he had nothing to do with the arrest of the
marshal. But when he addressed himself to Richelieu and inquired
furiously: “Is it you who have dared to give this counsel to the King?”
he was met with the laconic reply: “Yes, it is I.” D’Aligre was promptly
disgraced for his feebleness, and the Seals given to Marillac. Ornano
was transferred to the Château of Vincennes, and his two brothers, his
friend Chaudebonne and the Comte de Modène and Déageant were also
arrested and conveyed to the Bastille.
On his return to Fontainebleau, Bassompierre went to visit _Monsieur_,
even before seeing the King, “so much was he assured of the confidence
which his Majesty reposed in him.” He found the prince “very exasperated
and influenced by sundry evil minds,” and took the liberty of speaking
to him very frankly indeed. Gaston appeared to take the lecture in good
part, and, by the King’s wish, Bassompierre continued his visits and his
admonitions. But, after three or four days, he learned from Marie de’
Medici that _Monsieur_ suspected that it was intended to give him the
marshal as his _gouverneur_ in place of the captive Ornano, and had said
that he did not desire to have one. Upon which Bassompierre ceased his
visits, “wishing to show by keeping away from him that he by no means
aspired to that charge.” This was most unfortunate, as it left the young
prince entirely under the influence of the “evil minds” of which the
marshal speaks.
The unexpected arrest of Ornano had fallen like a thunderbolt on the
heads of the conspirators. They foresaw that if the marshal were brought
to trial, not only would their designs be discovered, but even their
persons be in danger, since he was not the kind of man who could be
trusted to prefer death to dishonour. They therefore urged _Monsieur_ to
make every endeavour to procure the release of his _gouverneur_, and, if
he failed, as they fully expected he would do, to take one of two
courses: the first was to leave the Court, retire into some fortified
place and call his supporters to arms; the second, to get rid of the
Cardinal.
As Louis XIII and Richelieu refused to hear of the release of Ornano,
and Gaston, although the Comte de Soissons offered to furnish him with a
very large sum of money if he would retire from Court and declare war,
hesitated to take so irrevocable a step, the Grand Prieur de Vendôme,
Chalais and others, prevailed upon him to choose the second of these
alternatives.
Richelieu was staying at the Château of Fleury, a country-seat of his,
situated about two leagues from Fontainebleau. Gaston, feigning a desire
to be reconciled to him, was to invite himself to dinner and arrive
accompanied by a strong party of his friends. What was to follow is
disputed. Most writers, including Bassompierre,[34] assert that it was
the intention of the conspirators to demand the release of Ornano, and,
if that were refused, to assassinate their host out of hand; and
Richelieu always maintained that his own death would have been followed
by the assassination or dethronement of the King. A more sober version
of the affair attributes to the conspirators no more sinister design
than that of making the Cardinal their prisoner and subsequently
exchanging him for Ornano, though, even if this be correct, it might
well have had a tragic sequel. Whatever the object of the plot, there
can be no possible doubt that Madame de Chevreuse was privy to it, if
not its prime instigator; and it can therefore be regarded as a singular
illustration of the irony of Fate that the indiscretion of the most
devoted of her admirers should have been the means of bringing it to
naught.
Chalais had a friend, the Commandeur de Valençay, a younger brother of
that Valençay whose carelessness after the capture of the ridge of
Saint-Denis at Montpellier had entailed so much loss of life, and to
this gentleman, on the eve of the execution of the plot, he was
imprudent enough to disclose it. He believed that he would find in him a
sympathetic listener, since, though he had not yet declared himself, he
had always appeared well disposed towards the cause. But, to his
consternation, Valençay, either from the hope of gaining the Cardinal’s
favour or from genuine disgust, professed the utmost horror and
indignation; “reproached him with his treason, in that being one of his
Majesty’s own Household he dared to make an attempt upon the person of
his first Minister,” and insisted that Chalais should forthwith
accompany him to Fleury and warn Richelieu of the danger which
threatened him. Chalais, in despair, obeyed, and assured the Cardinal
that he had always abhorred the plot and resolved to denounce it.
Richelieu believed, or affected to believe, him, and when he offered to
reveal to his Eminence any further intrigues against him, accepted his
services and promised to obtain for him the coveted post of Colonel of
the Light Cavalry.
The Cardinal sent Valençay to Fontainebleau to inform Louis XIII and the
Queen-Mother; and the King at once despatched a troop of horse to Fleury
for the protection of his Minister; while Marie de’ Medici sent the
gentlemen of her Household. At dawn a number of Gaston’s officers
arrived at Fleury, ostensibly, to announce the approaching arrival of
their master and to assist in preparing for his reception; in reality,
to serve as the advance-guard of the conspirators. His Eminence received
them very courteously, expressed his sense of the honour which the
prince proposed to do him, and then, ordering his coach, set out for
Fontainebleau, accompanied by more than a hundred horse, “to escort his
Royal Highness.”
His Royal Highness was considerably astonished when the Cardinal
presented himself at his _levée_ that morning, and mildly reproached him
with not having given him longer notice of the visit with which it was
his intention to honour him. In order to avert suspicion as to his
destination, _Monsieur_ had announced his intention of hunting that day;
and, as Richelieu withdrew, after handing the prince his shirt--a duty
which was always performed by the prelate or noble of the highest rank
present--he remarked significantly: “_Monsieur_, you have not risen
early enough this morning; you will find that the quarry is no longer at
home.” Then Gaston knew that someone had betrayed him.
Thoroughly frightened, the pusillanimous prince passed from treachery
and conspiracy to base submission, “with the levity of a selfish and
thoughtless child, destitute of both moral sense and courage,”[35] and
on May 31, in the presence of the King, the Queen-Mother and the
Cardinal, he signed and swore on the Gospels to observe faithfully a
compact drawn up by Richelieu, in which he engaged that “no counsel
should ever be proposed or submitted to him by anyone whomsoever of
which he would not advise his Majesty; that he would not keep silence
concerning even the most trifling words that were spoken to him with the
object of arousing his resentment against the King and his advisers, and
that he would love and esteem those whom the King and the Queen-Mother
loved.”
Gaston had sworn to and signed everything that had been put before him,
but, being as faithless as he was cowardly and selfish, he had not the
remotest intention of executing his engagement. In fact, while swearing
to inform his brother of everything contrary to his service that might
come to his knowledge, he said not a word of the great conspiracy which,
from the foot of the throne, had extended over the whole kingdom and far
beyond its borders; and, when he again found himself among his
partisans, he disclosed nothing of what had just taken place, renewed
all the promises which he had made them, and continued to preside over
their deliberations.
Chalais likewise kept his counsel, and the conspirators appear to have
entertained no suspicion that they had a traitor in their midst, and
probably attributed the Fleury fiasco to some vague warning furnished
the Cardinal by one or other of the many secret agents whom he had in
his pay. Had Chalais promptly avowed his enforced betrayal of their
designs, they would certainly have proceeded with a great deal more
caution, even if they had not decided to abandon the enterprise
altogether. But, for a while, he appears to have been of opinion that
his wisest course was to say nothing to his friends, and to keep, at
least to some extent, his promise to report any fresh developments to
the Cardinal; and when at length his secret was forced from him by the
address of Madame de Chevreuse and he was involved anew in the
conspiracy, its leaders were already hopelessly compromised.
Whether by Chalais or by one of his secret agents, Richelieu’s attention
was directed to the Duc de Vendôme, whose movements he caused to be
closely watched. Vendôme had resolved to offer _Monsieur_ an asylum in
his government of Brittany, and the Cardinal ascertained that he was
secretly preparing for war, and that he was in communication with the
authorities of La Rochelle. Recognising the importance of stifling at
its birth the insurrection in a great province so close to La Rochelle
and so exposed to an English invasion, he persuaded the King to proceed
thither in person to re-establish his threatened authority. But, since
he was doubtful if his Majesty could be brought to consent to the arrest
of his half-brothers, the duke and Grand Prior, he resolved to ascertain
how far he was prepared to support him, and accordingly requested
permission to retire, on the ground of failing health. Louis declined
his resignation in a letter which was equivalent to an oath of fidelity
from the King to his Minister, and concluded with these words: “Be
assured that I shall never change, and that, whoever may attack you, you
shall have me for second.”
Armed with this promise, Richelieu no longer hesitated to represent to
the King the necessity of arresting the natural sons of Henri IV, and
Louis at once assented. On learning of the approach of the Court, the
Duc de Vendôme, who was at Nantes, became very uneasy; but since he
could not abstain from paying his homage to his sovereign without
practically proclaiming himself a rebel, he charged his brother the
Grand Prior to obtain an assurance of safety from the King. “I give you
my word,” said Louis, “that he will come to no more harm than you.”
Deceived by this gross equivocation, the duke joined the Court at Blois,
where it had arrived on June 6, and was very graciously received. But,
two days later, both he and his brother were arrested in their beds by
Du Hallier, Captain of the Guards, and conducted to the Château of
Amboise, where they were very strictly guarded (June 12).
It would appear that, at this juncture, Richelieu was very far from
being aware of the wide range of the conspiracy or of all its chiefs;
otherwise, he would scarcely have left the Comte de Soissons behind in
Paris to command in the name of the King, or have allowed _Monsieur_ to
remain in the capital, subject to all the influences that were being
brought to bear upon him to induce him to raise the standard of revolt.
However, two or three days after the arrest of the Vendômes, the King
received warning that Soissons was meditating the abduction of Mlle. de
Montpensier, who had also remained in Paris, upon which he sent
Fontenay-Mareuil in all haste to Paris to bring the young lady to the
Court, and orders to Bassompierre, Bellegarde, and d’Effiat to accompany
them, with as many of their attendants as they could bring.
Bassompierre, who was just starting for Blois, had sent all his suite on
in advance, but the other two nobles were able to supply a
sufficiently-strong guard, under whose escort Mlle. de Montpensier left
Paris with the Duchesse de Guise.