Disconcerted by this unexpected disappointment, M. de Guise, aware that no influence less than that possessed by the Marquis d'Ancre could any longer avail him, compelled himself to overcome his pride sufficiently to entreat the good offices of the astute Italian; who, eager to seize so favourable an opportunity of strengthening the faction of the Princes of the Blood, referred him to M. de Conde as the only individual likely to accomplish his reconciliation with the indignant Queen, and the rather as the Duc d'Epernon declared himself ready to second the appeal.[162]

This advice was eagerly adopted by M. de Guise; who found little difficulty in effecting his object, the Princes having no sooner discovered that he had lost the favour of the Queen than they became anxious to attach him to their own interests; and so rapidly did this new alliance ripen that, with his usual impetuous recklessness, the young Duke ere long requested Bassompierre never again to mention the recall of M. de la Rochefoucauld to the Regent, as he should shortly accomplish it through the medium of the Prince de Conde; adding that thenceforward their mutual understanding would be so perfect that on the next occasion of the Queen's displeasure against himself, she would find no rod with which to chastise him.[163]

The influence of M. de Conde at this precise period was indeed so great as almost to justify the confidence of his new ally; but it was destined to be rapidly undermined by his own imprudence. He had long coveted the command of the Chateau Trompette, of which, although it was situated in the principal city of his government, he was not in possession; and believing that the Regent would not venture, under existing circumstances, to refuse to him what he had taught himself to consider as a right, he induced the Ducs de Mayenne and d'Epernon and the Marquis d'Ancre to make the demand in his name. His friends zealously obeyed his bidding, and urged the Queen to this, as they declared, unimportant concession; reminding her that as M. de Conde had devoted himself to her cause, he merited every favour which she could bestow upon him without danger to the state.

Marie de Medicis was not, however, prepared to regard this new demand upon her indulgence in so unimportant a light. She apprehended, and not without reason, that the Princes were endeavouring to sap the foundations of her authority, by possessing themselves of the fortresses of the Crown; and it was consequently with a heightened colour that, having heard the arguments addressed to her, she briefly replied that she would give the subject her consideration. The three nobles, anxious for the success of their mission, were not, however, to be so easily discouraged; and they consequently proceeded to impress upon her Majesty the impolicy of a delay which could not fail to wound the susceptibility of the Prince; but the patience of Marie was not proof against this pertinacity, and again declaring that she should take time to consider the subject, she rose from her seat and withdrew to her private closet, still closely followed by the applicants, her eyes flashing with anger as she discovered that they were even yet resolved to persecute her with their entreaties. Soon, however, she recovered her self-possession; and turning with a smile towards her obnoxious guests, she said, as playfully as though no cause of annoyance were coupled with their presence: "I have just learnt a new gallantry of which Bassompierre has been the hero; he did not know that it would reach my ears, nor will he be well pleased to find that I have heard of it."

"I trust that your Majesty will inform him of the discovery," said the Duc de Nevers, instantly adding: "Approach, M. de Bassompierre; the Queen has something to confide to you."

"No, no," replied Marie, in the same tone of banter which she had so suddenly assumed, "I shall not tell him one word of the matter."

At once surprised and alarmed, the Marquis immediately approached the Regent, and entreated her to let him hear the intelligence which she had to communicate; and he had no sooner done so than Marie, whose subterfuge had succeeded, moved to a distant window, and motioned to him to follow her. When she had reached the recess, she still continued to stand with her back towards the two Dukes; and as Bassompierre gained her side, she said in a hasty whisper: "I know nothing of your intrigues; but tell me, has M. de Guise ceased to urge you to effect the return of La Rochefoucauld?"

"Only three days ago, Madame, he bade me desist from importuning your Majesty upon the subject, as the Prince de Conde had promised him that it should be shortly accomplished through his own means; adding, moreover, that he could scarcely be blamed for adopting the interests of the Princes, since your own creature, M. d'Ancre, had done the same."

As Bassompierre spoke warm tears gushed from the eyes of the Queen. "Yes," she exclaimed bitterly; "the very men who induced me to oppose the Princes and to offend the ministers are now endeavouring to profit by my unsupported position, to undermine my authority, and to ruin my credit with the people. You heard how insolently they demanded a royal fortress for their leader; and I am well aware that should I grant their request it would only expose me to the necessity of making new concessions."

"Do not distress yourself, Madame," replied the skilful courtier, eager to avail himself of so favourable an opportunity of serving his friends; "you can always command the means of recalling them to their allegiance; and, did I dare to proffer a counsel to your Majesty, I would suggest that you should employ them."

"We will talk no more at present," said Marie; "return here when I have risen from table, and by that time I shall have had leisure to reflect upon your advice."

She then advanced once more to the centre of the apartment, and commenced a trivial conversation, which she maintained until the departure of the two Dukes, thus effectually preventing all recurrence to the obnoxious subject; but she was not destined to escape so readily as she had hoped from this new persecution. Concini and his wife had alike pledged themselves to M. de Conde that they would support his pretensions with all their influence, and their vanity was consequently enlisted in the cause as much as their interests. The Queen-mother, therefore, no sooner found herself alone with Leonora than the subject was renewed; and that with so much pertinacious resolution that the dignity of the Regent took alarm, and she expressed herself with considerable bitterness to the presumptuous favourite. At this crisis Concini entered the apartment; and with as little caution as his wife had previously exhibited, persisted in urging upon his harassed mistress the same unpalatable advice; until, utterly wearied, and deeply indignant at an interference which exceeded all the bounds of courtesy and respect, Marie commanded them both to quit her presence, and gave instant orders that they should not again be admitted until she had signified her pleasure to that effect.

As the officers of the household were about to marshal the Regent to the mid-day meal, Bassompierre encountered the Duc de Guise, of whom he immediately inquired if he had abandoned the cause of the unfortunate La Rochefoucauld, who would inevitably die of ennui, should he be long exiled from the gaieties of the Court.

"No, no," vehemently replied the Duke, "he shall return to share them; nor will I be under an obligation to the Queen for his reappearance. I have served her with zeal, and have been repaid by coldness and neglect. I have therefore made new interests, and now recognize no leader but M. de Conde, no coadjutors but his cabal; nor will I abandon them although I adopted their policy with reluctance; a determination, Monsieur," he added pointedly, "which you at least will not condemn, as you are a member of the same party."

"Your Lordship is partially in error," said Bassompierre gaily. "I am, it is true, the very humble servant of all such individuals as are favoured by the Prince, but I do not recognize them as a political body. I am the devoted adherent of their Majesties, and I know no other masters. Pardon me, moreover, if I venture to say that you have yourself, M. le Duc, been very ill-advised. You were formerly the leader of your own faction, since it would appear that we are to talk of factions; you were dependent upon no one, and responsible only to yourself for your actions and opinions; and now you have allied your fortunes to those of persons by whom you will be subjected to a thousand indignities and annoyances when they no longer require your support. How, then, do you imagine that you will be able to brook such treatment, when you suffer yourself to be angered and alienated by a cold word from the Regent? You should remember that your brother killed M. de Luz almost under her eyes, and in defiance of a stringent edict; and that you could scarcely anticipate the immediate recall of one of the officers of the King's household who had peremptorily refused to obey the royal command by which he was enjoined to leave your hotel."

"Well, well," exclaimed the Duke impatiently, "the Queen will one day discover her error in having ventured to offer me a slight in order to gratify those by whom she suffers herself to be governed. She will ere long seek my friendship, but I shall either refuse to listen or compel her to purchase it at a high price."

The Regent had no sooner returned to her closet than, in obedience to her orders, Bassompierre again presented himself; and as soon as she had dismissed her attendants she at once entered upon the subject that occupied her thoughts. "Bestein," she said, addressing the Marquis by the name which she usually applied to him during their confidential interviews, "this wretched affair has totally unnerved me. I was unable to swallow any food, and unless my mind is relieved at once I shall go mad. You must reconcile me to the Duc de Guise at any price. Offer him a hundred thousand crowns for himself, the commission of Lieutenant-General of Provence for his brother, and the reversion of the Abbey of St. Germain for the Princesse de Conti. In one word, promise him what you please, and I will consent, provided you annihilate this cabal and detach him from the interests of the Princes."

"Madame," replied Bassompierre with a gay smile, "you have filled my hands so amply that I am sure of making a successful bargain. But have I no similar commission with regard to M. d'Epernon?"

"Ah, would that I could hope so much," said Marie gloomily; "but I have wounded his vanity, and he never forgives."

"Seldom, perhaps, Madame," was the ready rejoinder of the shrewd courtier, "his enemies, but readily his rulers."

"Endeavour then," exclaimed the Queen eagerly, "to effect this also, Bestein; remind him of all that I have already done, both for himself and his children, and assure him that I have never lost the inclination to serve him. If any one can accomplish so desirable an object, you are the person."

Bassompierre lost no time in opening the important negotiation with which he was entrusted; and the wiliness with which he first enlisted the ambition and cupidity of the females of the family presents a curious picture of the manners of the time. His success could not long remain doubtful at a period when the allegiance of the highest nobles of the land was bought and sold like the most common merchandise; and accordingly, although, as he informs us, the Duc de Guise for a time indulged in his ordinary extravagance of speech, he gradually yielded, and—as a natural consequence—received the price of his venal concession!

On this occasion, however, M. d'Epernon, whose birth was far inferior to that of his friend, displayed a higher sense of what was due to himself and to his rank. "In matters of this importance," he said proudly, as Bassompierre urged him once more to espouse the interests of the Regent, and hinted at the benefit likely to accrue to himself from his compliance with her wishes, "I never condescend to bargain. Decisions of real weight should be formed frankly and disinterestedly. I have no wish to capitulate with my sovereign. Offer me no bribe, for I should consider it only as an insult. Any service which I can render to the Queen has been already amply recompensed, and I should be unworthy alike of the name I bear and of the offices I hold did I place my loyalty at a price. I have only one favour to request of her Majesty before I again devote myself to her interests, and that is that she will henceforward exhibit more firmness, and attach a greater value to those who have served her with fidelity and zeal. This conceded, I am ready to attend her pleasure whenever she may see fit to summon me to her presence."

The exultation of Marie de Medicis at the happy termination of his mission rendered her profuse in her expressions of gratitude to Bassompierre, which she terminated by the assurance that he should be appointed First Lord of the Bedchamber to the young King, even should she, as she declared, be compelled to purchase the post from her own private funds; and these preliminaries arranged, on the following morning, at nine o'clock, the two Dukes proceeded to pay their respects to her Majesty, by whom they were most graciously received, and who commanded that a seat should be placed for M. d'Epernon, whose recovery from a severe illness was, as we have already stated, only recent. The interview was a long one, and no allusion was made on either side to the late defection of the distinguished guests, who, on rising to retire, were invited by the Queen to attend her to the theatre that evening; and they had no sooner expressed their acknowledgments than she gave orders to the captain of her guard to have benches prepared for both the Duc d'Epernon and M. Zamet, by whom he was to be accompanied.

This extraordinary favour excited universal comment when the assembled courtiers perceived that it was not even extended to the Duc de Mayenne, who was also present at the performance; and Concini, in particular, was so struck by the sudden change of affairs that he exclaimed energetically to Bassompierre, beside whom he stood: "Per Dio! Monsieur, I can but laugh over the mutations of this strange world; the Queen has found a seat for Zamet, and there is none for the Duc de Mayenne. Place your faith in princes after this!"

Great was the exultation of the courtiers when the disgrace of Concini became known; but that of the ministers, as they learnt its cause, was even more profound. One web of the complicated mesh which had been woven about the spirit of the Queen had at length given way, while her refusal to accede to the request of the Prince de Conde convinced them that he was no longer likely to prove so formidable an enemy to themselves as he had recently been. Acting upon this impression they hastened to solicit a private audience of the Regent, declaring that they had matters of great importance to treat with her, which they would only communicate to herself; and their satisfaction was complete when an answer was returned appointing an hour for their appearance at the Louvre, and naming as the place of their reception the private closet of the Queen.

"Messieurs," said Marie graciously, as they paused upon the threshold of the apartment to make the accustomed obeisance, "your request shall be strictly complied with." And then turning to the captain of her guard she added: "M. de Senneterre, you will suffer no one to enter here, be he whom he may."

Delighted by the manner of their reception, the ministers at once entered upon the subject which had induced them to solicit the interview, and respectfully represented to the Regent the alarm which they had felt at the dangerous demand advanced by the Prince de Conde, and the exertions which they had ascertained were to be made by the Marquis d'Ancre to induce her Majesty's compliance; assuring her that the surrender of a royal fortress of such importance as the Chateau Trompette to the control of the first Prince of the Blood could not fail to prove prejudicial to the interests of the King and the tranquillity of the nation.

"I am fully aware of the importance of such a concession, Messieurs," replied Marie with dignity; "and my resolution is already formed. I have not yet forgotten that my late lord your sovereign more than once assured me that had he, while at war with Henri III, gained possession of the Chateau Trompette, he could have made himself Duc de Guienne. A fact like this is well calculated to rivet itself upon the memory."

At this moment the usher scratched upon the door, and entered to announce that the Marquis d'Ancre desired admission to the presence of the Queen; but the ministers had scarcely had time to exchange one glance of alarm and annoyance before Marie, with considerable vehemence, repeated her former order, and the mortified Marquis was compelled to retire.

Cautiously as the audience had been accorded, the Italian had not failed to ascertain through his spies the presence of the ministers in the palace; and aware of his own danger should they regain their legitimate influence over the mind of the Queen, he unhesitatingly resolved to brave her interdict in order to counteract the effect of their representations. He had, however, as we have shown, signally failed; and with the most gloomy forebodings of impending evil he returned to the apartments of his wife to report the ill-success of his attempt.

Nor was Concini the only visitor who sought admission to the Queen during her conference with the ministers. M. de Conde, who was still unaware of the moral revolution which had been effected, had, as was his custom, proceeded to the Louvre in order to consult with her on state affairs; and had been panic-struck when denied admission to her presence, and informed that she was then closeted with his mortal enemies. In his consternation he sought a solution of the mystery from Bassompierre, who, after expressing his utter ignorance of its meaning, cunningly insinuated that it was, in all probability, an intrigue of the Marechal de Bouillon, who had effected a reconciliation with the Regent and her ministers at his expense; a suggestion which appeared so probable to the Prince that he immediately hurried to the apartments of Concini to discuss with him the necessary measures for averting this new danger.

Madame d'Ancre, who was well aware of the extent of her own power over the spirit of her foster-sister, would not permit herself to regard her present disgrace as more than a passing shadow, and urged her less confident husband to persevere in his attempt to regain the good graces of Marie, assuring him that the Queen would ere long be as anxious for a reconciliation as himself. Somewhat encouraged by this declaration, Concini, whose vanity was only rivalled by his ambition, and who, despite daily experience, believed his own society to be as indispensable to the Regent as that of his wife, took measures to ascertain the precise moment at which the ministerial audience terminated, when, profiting by the opportunity, he threw himself upon his knees before the justly-offended Queen, and entreated her forgiveness of his involuntary offence. Marie was, however, in no mood for trifling, and she sternly bade him leave her; a command which he obeyed only to wreak upon his wife the consequences of his own mortification.[164]

The son of the Baron de Luz finding that, despite her promise, the Regent had taken no measures to avenge the death of his father, but that, on the contrary, she had stopped the proceedings which previously to her reconciliation with the Duc de Guise had been commenced against his brother, determined to demand satisfaction in his own person; and he accordingly despatched a challenge to the Chevalier, which was immediately accepted by the hot-headed young noble. Seconds were appointed, and in compliance with the barbarous custom of the time the four combatants fought on horseback at the Porte St. Antoine. At the first pass Francois de Guise was wounded, but at the third his sword pierced the body of his antagonist, who fell from his saddle and expired a few minutes afterwards. Notwithstanding this tragical result, however, the murderer alike of the father and the son boldly returned to Paris, where he was visited and congratulated by numbers of the nobles, who, instead of shrinking from all contact with a man who had desolated the hearth and home of a sorrowing and now childless widow, were loud in their encomiums on his bravery and skill. Nor was this the most revolting feature of the case; for it is on record that Marie de Medicis herself, in her eagerness to retain the alliance of his family, no sooner learnt that the Chevalier had received a wound in the encounter than she despatched an officer of her household to convey to him her regret and to inquire into the extent of his hurt, overlooking, with extraordinary inconsistency, or still more reprehensible recklessness, the fact that only a few weeks previously she had instructed the Parliament to put him upon his trial for the murder of his first victim.

The unslumbering eye of Heaven, however, and the unerring fiat of divine justice, proved less oblivious of this monstrous crime. In the course of the following year, while at the fortress of Baux near Arles, Francois de Guise was in the act of firing off a cannon, which burst and wounded him in so frightful a manner that he expired two hours subsequently in extreme torture, thus partially expiating by a death of agony a youth of misrule and bloodshed.[165]

The murder of the younger De Luz had no sooner reached the ears of M. de Luynes than he resolved to avail himself of the circumstance to awaken the ambition of Louis, and to induce him to fling off the shackles of maternal authority. Eager as he had long been for an opportunity of effecting this object, his attempts had hitherto been negatived by the ceaseless energy with which Marie de Medicis had smothered in their germ all attempts at sedition, thus rendering herself essential to the well-being and security of the kingdom; and he accordingly felt all the importance of the present crisis.

Under this impression, after listening attentively to the narrative of his informant, he hastened to the apartment of the King, who was still engaged in the cares of his morning toilet; and no contrast could have been more striking than the simple costume of the young sovereign and the elaborate dress of his favourite. The pourpoint of Louis was of deep crimson velvet, slashed with satin of the same colour, and totally without ornament, a simplicity which marked his own observance of the sumptuary edict that he had lately issued; whereas De Luynes, with an arrogant disregard of the royal proclamation, was attired in a vest of pale blue, richly embroidered with gold and relieved by a short mantle of amaranth, clasped by a rich jewel similar to that which attached the snowy plume to his black velvet cap.

As the cap was doffed, however, and the long feather swept the tapestried floor, Louis forgot to chide this ostentatious defiance of his will, and with a smile motioned his splendid courtier to a seat.

"You come like a bridegroom from the wedding feast, Albert," he said cheerfully; "and you surely bring me a message of good import, or your garb belies you. Has De Brantes announced the speedy arrival of my sparrow-hawks?"

"Of one only, Sire; the smaller of the two died under his training."

"Ah!" exclaimed the King, with great petulance; "it is always so. Whatever is destined to give me pleasure fails when I am the most eager to possess it."

"And yet," interposed De Luynes gaily, "never, in so far as I can judge, did fortune show herself more favourable to your Majesty."

"What mean you?" asked Louis, roused for an instant from his usual apathy.

"Oh! it is a long tale, and a strange one," said the favourite. "You may remember, Sire, the quarrel that arose between the old Baron de Luz and the Chevalier de Guise, and which grew out of the cabal against Concini. You cannot have forgotten, moreover, that the Baron was killed. Well, his son Antoine de Luz, impatient for a vengeance which was too tardy according to the principle of his filial chivalry, took, as it seems, the affair into his own hands, and flattered himself that where his father had failed he should come forth victorious. Poor boy! he has paid dearly for his mistake. His sword has proved duller than his hopes. He has encountered the Chevalier in his turn, and in his turn has bit the dust. Francois de Guise pierced him through and through one day last week near the Porte St. Antoine."

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Louis in an agitated voice; "do you mean that he is dead?"

"Dead, like his father," was the unmoved reply.

"And her Majesty the Queen-Regent was no sooner informed of the fact than she commanded M. de Bassompierre to arrest the Chevalier."

"I will not permit it!" cried the young King vehemently. "I love Francois de Guise; he is one of my firmest friends; he shall not be imprisoned."

"Calm yourself, Sire," said De Luynes with a significant smile; "Madame la Regente was soon appeased, and so little does she resent the crime of M. de Guise that she has this morning condescended to cause inquiries to be made after his health."

"Right, right," murmured Louis; "and yet it is a bad precedent, and a dangerous example to the lesser nobles. I hate this spilling of blood. The Princes are too bold. Upon what will they next venture?"

"Nay, it requires no sphynx to solve that problem, my gracious master," said the favourite, toying with his plumed cap; "they will endeavour to effect the exile of Concini and his dark-browed wife: your good subjects have no love for foreigners, and believe that you, their sovereign, would find no want of faithful and devoted servitors among themselves. Then Jeannin, Sire, and Sillery are obnoxious to them; and they trust, with your good help, to be ere long freed from all these incubi."

"Luynes," said Louis in a tone of weariness, "I hate to hear you talk upon such subjects. I have more than enough of them from others. Is De Guise recovering from his wound? for he must also have suffered in the fray, or the Queen-mother would not have sought tidings of him."

"Fear not for him, Sire," said the favourite; "he will be quite able to keep the saddle when M. de Conde heads an army to snatch the crown of our fair France from your own brow."

"Stay, sir!" exclaimed the young King with sudden dignity. "Have you also forgotten that I am the son of Henri IV?"

"May your Majesty never forget it more than I do," said De Luynes, with an audacity before which the eye of Louis sank; "but believe me that the fact will avail you little until you have purged the nation of the foreign fungus which is corroding the root of your authority."

"Albert," murmured the weak young monarch, "in the name of Heaven, what would you ask?"

"To see you in reality the King of France, Sire."

"And for this purpose—"

"You must appease the Princes. They are weary of the despotic rule of the Queen-mother and of the influence of these Florentines."

"I dare not urge the Queen to banish them."

"Nor should you, Sire. It is for subjects to solicit, and for sovereigns to command. There is, moreover, a safer cure than exile for such an evil."

"Nay, now, De Luynes, you jest," said Louis, striving to force a sickly smile; "you surely would not counsel—"

"Your Majesty mistakes me," interposed the favourite; "I would dare anything to secure your safety. Justice holds her sword as firmly as her balance, and wields the one as freely as she weighs the other."

"Enough, enough," gasped out Louis; "we will talk of this again—but blood, blood, always blood! It is sickening. You will attend me to Fontainebleau, Albert; I must have some sport to-day, and endeavour to forget for a time all your moody arguments."

De Luynes bowed low as he glanced significantly towards Roger, the favourite valet of the King, who replied to the meaning look by an almost imperceptible shrug of the shoulders as he adjusted the mantle of his royal master.

"Go, Monsieur le Grand Fauconnier," pursued the King, "and see that all is prepared. I will follow on the instant."

Ten minutes subsequently the Court of the Louvre was thronged with courtiers, equipages, and led horses; and within a quarter of an hour the voice of the usher was heard at the foot of the great staircase announcing "The King." Then Louis himself appeared, and taking his place in the coach which was awaiting him, he motioned De Luynes to his side, gave the signal of departure, and left the palace at a rapid pace. The royal suite mounted in haste; and ere long nobles, pages, and equerries had disappeared, and all was once more silent beneath the deep shadows of the regal pile.

It is evident that, crafty as Bassompierre had shown himself when conversing with M. de Conde on the subject of the extraordinary changes which had taken place at Court, he was nevertheless suspected by the Prince of having contributed to effect them, as a short time subsequently a banquet was given at the Hotel de Conde, to which every nobleman in office was invited save the handsome and popular Gentleman of the Bedchamber, who was generally one of the most coveted guests at entertainments of that description; but the exclusion, marked as it was, failed to cause any mortification to Bassompierre, who had no sooner communicated the circumstance to the Regent than she commanded his attendance in her private salon, where he passed the afternoon at cards with herself and her ladies.

Concini, finding that the Queen did not relax in her coldness towards himself and his wife, withdrew in great displeasure to Amiens; and at the same period Marie discovered that, despite his promise to the contrary, the Duc de Vendome had joined the faction of Conde, and that they were conjointly endeavouring to win back M. de Guise. Alarmed by this new cabal, and made aware that the latter had betrayed symptoms of irresolution which augured ill for his adhesion to her cause, she lost no time in reminding him of the pledges which he had given, and in entreating him not to abandon her interests. The Duke, flattered by the importance that the Queen-mother attached to his allegiance, readily promised all she wished; and she had reason to congratulate herself upon her promptitude, as only a few days subsequently M. de Vendome and Concini arrived at Fontainebleau, where the Court had recently established its residence, when the former hastened to take leave of their Majesties previously to his departure for Brittany, where he was about to preside over the Assembly of the States, and the latter on the pretext of bearing him company; but in reality to induce Zamet, who possessed considerable authority in the palace, to assign rooms to them in that portion of the building occupied by the Duc de Guise.

Such an arrangement could not, however, be effected without reaching the ears of the Regent, whose suspicions of their motive were immediately excited; and she desired Bassompierre not to lose sight of M. de Guise until he had retired to rest, and to prevent his holding any communication with the Duc de Vendome. Resolved, moreover, to ascertain the correctness of those suspicions, she directed M. de Senneterre to watch throughout the night upon the staircase of the Duc de Guise; a vigilance which was rewarded by his discovery of the two nobles, who, shortly after Bassompierre had withdrawn, paid a visit to the Duke which lasted upwards of two hours. The astonishment of the Regent was consequently by no means great when M. de Guise in his turn waited upon her Majesty to take leave, upon the pretext that he had been chosen by Madame d'Elboeuf, conjointly with the Duc de Mayenne, as her arbitrator in a reconciliation which was about to be attempted between herself and Madame de la Tremouille, who had on her side selected the Prince de Conde and the Marechal de Bouillon. Marie, however, refused to consent to his departure, and informed him that she would despatch Bassompierre as his substitute; an arrangement with which he was compelled to comply, but which greatly embarrassed his friends.

Meanwhile the anger of the Queen against Concini had been seriously increased by this new instance of ingratitude; and even the pleadings of his wife, who had been restored to favour, failed to appease her displeasure. In imparting her commands to Bassompierre, Marie had inveighed bitterly against the attitude assumed by a man who owed everything to her indulgence; and as her listener endeavoured to excuse him, she said vehemently:—

"Urge nothing in his behalf. He has thought proper to judge for himself, and to join a cabal which he knows to be opposed to my authority. Tell him from me that if he does not return here by Thursday evening, I will teach him in future to obey me; and that had it not been from consideration for his wife, I should already have provided him with a lodging which he would have found it difficult to quit. Leonora is indignant at his conduct; while he continues to act more disgracefully from day to day. Inform him that he will do well not to neglect my orders."

The arrogant Italian was, however, by no means inclined to obedience; nor was it without considerable difficulty that Bassompierre succeeded in impressing upon him the extent of the danger to which he exposed himself by the line of conduct he had so recklessly adopted, and in ultimately effecting his reconciliation with his justly offended mistress.[166]

This was no sooner accomplished than the ministers, who thenceforward despaired of ever permanently counterbalancing the influence of Concini and his wife, determined, if possible, to unite their interests to his; and for this purpose the President Jeannin, who had maintained a better understanding with the Marquis than any of his colleagues, proposed to the Queen that an effort should be made to reconcile the Chancellor and Villeroy with her favourite, a suggestion which she eagerly adopted, being anxious to strengthen her own party by weakening that of the Princes. She had been apprised that the Marechal de Bouillon, who was indignant that he could not attain to the degree of power which he had anticipated under a regency, was perseveringly employed in endeavouring to detach the Duc de Guise from her interests, and to fortify the cabal of the Prince de Conde, in order to render his own allegiance indispensable to the Crown; and she consequently welcomed any method of circumventing a conspiracy which was becoming formidable. It was therefore determined that a marriage should be proposed between the daughter of Concini and the Marquis de Villeroy, the grandson of the Secretary of State; and this overture was accompanied by the most lavish promises on the part of the ministers that they would serve him by every means in their power, and exert all their energies to advance his fortunes.

This negotiation, which was undertaken without the knowledge of Bassompierre, had nearly proved fatal to his prospects; as both parties, dreading his influence with the Regent, determined to undermine him in her regard; and for this purpose they so wilfully misrepresented his actions, and contrived to invest them with so suspicious an appearance, that Marie, who had begun to misdoubt every one about her, treated him with a harshness which his proud spirit could not brook; and he accordingly made preparations for quitting the Court of France, with the intention of entering the service of some foreign Prince.

His design was no sooner ascertained, however, than his friends, particularly the Duc de Guise and the Princesse de Conti, hastened to represent to the Queen the impolicy of forfeiting the friendship and assistance of one who had so faithfully espoused her cause; and their representations prevailed. Bassompierre was permitted to justify himself, and Marie frankly admitted her conviction that she had been misled by his enemies.

In addition to these intestine intrigues, the Regent was occupied with the troubles generated by the disputed succession of the duchy of Mantua, regarding which she was reluctant to come to any resolution without securing the advice of the Princes and great nobles; upon which she was, moreover, the more anxious to insist, as it would afford an opportunity of summoning to the capital not only M. de Conde himself, but all the other leaders of the adverse faction; who had, as we have shown, withdrawn from the Court, and were exasperated by the reconciliation of the Regent with the Ducs de Guise and d'Epernon, and the recall of the ministers. The Council accordingly met; and as the Cardinal-Duke of Mantua was a near relative of the Queen, it was decided that France should support him in his pretensions against the Duke of Savoy. An army was consequently organized, which was to march on Monferrat from three several points: one division under the Marechal de Lesdiguieres, a second under the Duc de Guise, and the third under the Grand Equerry M. de Bellegarde. The troops were not, however, destined on this occasion to cross the frontier, the friends of the Duke of Savoy having soon succeeded in convincing Marie de Medicis of the danger of investing three great nobles with the command of an armed force of such importance during the minority of the sovereign; while Ubaldini, the Papal Nuncio, jealous of the presence of the French soldiery in Italy, and apprehensive that Lesdiguieres would be accompanied by a large number of Huguenots, was equally strenuous in dissuading her from her purpose; assuring her that the King of Spain had resolved to oppose the Duke of Savoy, and to compel him to restore to the House of Mantua the territories which had been wrested from it in Monferrat. The Duke of Savoy himself, moreover, alarmed at the demonstration about to be made by France, and conscious that he was unable to compete with such an adversary, resolved to open a negotiation; upon which the Marquis de Coeuvres was despatched to Italy to arrange the terms of the treaty.[167]

While the whole of the other European Princes were occupied with the succession in Mantua, James of England was engrossed by his anxiety to divert the minds of his subjects from the grief which was universally felt at the untimely death of his eldest son; and so little did he himself feel the bereavement that he entered with apparent enjoyment into every kind of entertainment which presented itself. The unfortunate Prince had expired on the 6th of November; and as his demise threatened to prevent that close alliance with France which he had so eagerly anticipated, James caused its announcement to the Regent to be accompanied by an offer of the hand of his other son, Charles, who had thus become Prince of Wales, to the Princesse Christine; a proposal which reached the French Court only three days subsequently to the decease of Henry, and which consequently created considerable surprise.[168] Marie de Medicis, however, felt no inclination to quarrel with this indecent haste, as she trusted that by giving her daughter to the son of a Protestant sovereign, she should conciliate the Huguenots, whom she had greatly alienated by concluding the double alliance with Spain; but the Sovereign-Pontiff was no sooner apprised of the offer of James, and of the gracious reception afforded to it by the Regent, than he expressed his extreme displeasure, and refused to listen to any arguments, declaring that no question of state policy should sanction a contract the observance of which must prove detrimental to the interests of the Church. Ubaldini, the Papal Nuncio at the French Court, seconded these remonstrances with more zeal than judgment; and at length proceeded so far as to reproach the Queen with the ill return which she was about to make to God for the blessings He had vouchsafed to her. The haughty spirit of Marie de Medicis could brook no more; and her reply is worthy of record. "Monseigneur," she said with dignity, "I do nothing more upon this occasion than several Princes of Italy have done before me, and that too under the very eyes of the Pope. The Grand Duchess of Tuscany, with all her devotion, did not refuse her consent when she was formerly asked to give the hand of her daughter to the Prince of Wales." [169]

Thus the proposal was accepted, and the heir to the British throne was thenceforward considered as the future husband of the young Princess.

At this period the death of M. de Fervaques left a marshal's baton disposable, which, to the extreme disgust of the nobility, was bestowed by the Regent upon Concini, who had never throughout his life been present at the firing of a hostile shot. The ill-judged manner in which this dignity was conferred is so characteristic that it merits mention. Her temporary estrangement from Madame d'Ancre had been a source of great discomfort as well as sorrow to the Queen; and her ladies, hoping still further to disgust her with the favourite, had unwittingly compelled her to feel her dependence upon the disgraced mistress of the robes. To every petty requirement she was answered that it was not within their province, and that reference must be made to the Marquise.

"I desire to have the entrance to my closet draperied by a screen of crimson velvet edged with gold," said the Regent on one occasion to Madame de Guercheville; "be good enough to have it done immediately."

"Your Majesty has probably overlooked the fact that such orders must be issued by the Marquise d'Ancre," was the formal reply of the stately lady of honour.

"Madame du Fargis," resumed the Queen, a short time afterwards, "I have mislaid a letter—a petition—bearing the name of the Comtesse de Touraine; I wish it to be found and answered."

"Madame," responded the beautiful Countess meekly, "the Marquise d'Ancre has charge of all the petitions addressed to your Majesty."

Marie de Medicis turned away in silence. She had striven to believe that she could dispense with the services of Leonora; but every day, and almost every hour, she became more convinced of her utter helplessness without her. Madame d'Ancre had been the playmate of her infancy, the friend of her girlhood; she was the confidante of her most hidden thoughts, her counsellor in difficulty, and her consoler in her moments of trial. The ill-advised bearing of those about her sufficed to remind her of these facts, and her resolution was forthwith formed. Concini might still be made to feel and to suffer for his fault, but she could not dispense with the society and support of Leonora.

The Queen retired to her private closet, and the mistress of the robes was summoned to her presence by a page. As she entered, Marie was startled by the change which had taken place in her appearance; her eyes were swollen with weeping, and her cheek was even more sallow than its wont. Whatever might be her faults, there can be no doubt that Leonora was deeply and tenderly attached to her royal foster-sister; and that the disgrace into which she had fallen had consequently affected her to an intense degree. She was no longer the proud and imperious favourite who through the Regent sought to govern France, but a weak and sorrowing woman, mourning over the ruin of all her hopes.

The apartment to which the Queen-mother had so unexpectedly summoned her foster-sister was, as we have said, her private closet, in which she passed several hours each day while residing at the Louvre. The walls were covered to the height of ten feet from the floor by magnificent hangings of crimson damask, surmounted by a dome of pale blue silk, upon which were elaborately embroidered the arms of the Medici. From the centre of this dome hung a silver lamp, chiselled by the hand of Benvenuto Cellini, and suspended by a chain of the same metal; a table of carved oak stood in the centre of the room, upon which were placed a pair of globes, sundry astronomical instruments, an illuminated missal, and a flask of Hungary water; while a low divan, heaped with cushions of black velvet sprinkled with fleurs-de-lis in gold, occupied two entire sides of the apartment, and completed its furniture.

"Approach, Leonora," said the Queen. "Here, place yourself on this cushion at my feet, and wipe the tears from your eyes. Even if we part, we may do so without bitterness."

"Ha, Madame!" exclaimed the Florentine, "should such a feeling indeed exist it can be only in the bosom of your Majesty, for no true subject can do otherwise than love and venerate her sovereign."

"Would that it were so," said Marie; "but that is a delusion under which I have long ceased to labour; for too often where I have sought to excite affection I have only engendered hatred."

"I know not if your Majesty would address that reproach to me," said Madame d'Ancre, raising her drooping head with the sudden energy of honest pride; "but should it really be so, I can summon the past to vindicate my good faith. I can call upon the Queen-Regent of France herself to do me justice; I can invoke the two years of that regency, so full of trial, of struggle, and of calamity, during which I have at times perilled my head to ensure alike the tranquillity and the triumph of my august mistress; I can quote the several cabals which I have helped to crush; and, above all, I can prove the fidelity and submission with which I have constantly obeyed the behests of my sovereign lady. All this is, however, worse than idle; the servant only sins the more in every attempt at self-justification. Monarchs are accustomed from their cradles to punish upon suspicion, however strong may be the evidences of the past. Gratitude, as the term is understood between man and man, never drapes itself in purple; perfect confidence cannot steady its foot upon the steps of a throne, for the royal canopy is a heaven of impunity for those whom it overshadows. Yet think not, Madame," she continued, in a more subdued voice, as she clasped her thin fingers together so forcibly that they became ashy white beneath the pressure—"think not, I beseech you, that I say this of myself. I have no such presumption. I have not forgotten what I was, in feeling what I am. I yet remember, deeply, thankfully, that I was poor, obscure, and insignificant, and that it was your royal hand which raised me to rank and honour; and thus it is with the most fervent gratitude that I now thank you for your past bounties; and with the utmost humility that I prepare to take my leave of you for ever."

Marie did not reply; the outburst of outraged feeling in which the Marquise had indulged was so unexpected and so bold that she remained speechless, and the tears which had risen to her eyes on the entrance of her foster-sister congealed upon their lids. Leonora awaited for an instant some token of relenting in her royal mistress, but as the threatening silence continued, she became alarmed, and casting herself upon her knees, she gasped out falteringly, "I am at your feet, Madame; I kneel before you, wretched and repentant; I am here to bid you farewell—a life-long farewell. Pardon, and forget me."

The heart of Marie was moved; and as her favourite knelt before her she pressed her to her bosom, and bade her be of good cheer, for that all was forgiven. Leonora, unprepared for such an admission, wept abundantly; and it was long ere she could recover her composure, while the Queen on her side was scarcely less distressed.

"I cannot part from you, mia cara, mia dolce" pursued Marie passionately; "you are my good angel, the friend and sister of my happy years—for we were happy then, Leonora mia, before a crown and a court came between us. You have said truly that you have been my guardian spirit, and we do not part with our best security in the hour of peril. No, Leonora, no; I will listen no more to the evil accusations of those who would fain separate us. You shall not quit the Louvre."

Madame d'Ancre pressed her hand forcibly upon her heart as if to control its tumultuous throbbings; and then, fixing her large dark eyes earnestly upon those of her royal mistress, she said in a low deep accent of earnest emotion, "And thus you love me still—you, the proud daughter of the Medici, the wife and the mother of kings—you love me still, and I have not lived in vain! Did you hear those words, Countess?" she asked, suddenly springing to her feet, and addressing Madame du Fargis, who was standing in the recess of one of the tall windows, with the tears falling fast over her fair cheeks; "the Regent will not suffer me to leave France—the Regent will not allow me to wither away my life an alien from her presence. Now I am once more calm and strong—calm in the security of my happiness, strong in the consciousness of my honesty. Let them accuse me now, I defy their malice, for my royal mistress believes in me, and loves me."

"Compose yourself, Leonora," said the Queen-mother affectionately; "your feeble frame is unequal to these bursts of passion. Come hither, child, and pillow your aching head upon my knees, as you were wont to do long, long ago, when we sang together the beloved songs of our fair Florence, or indulged in day-dreams which were never destined to be realized. Let Madame de Conti beware in her turn: higher heads than hers have been brought low; and from this day I will teach a bitter lesson to her and to her kinsmen. I have borne much, but I am still a Medicis; I can be as firm as Catherine, although I shall endeavour to act with greater justice, and to be in all things worthy of the name I bear."

"Ha, Madame!" exclaimed the favourite, "you have already proved that however others may endeavour to forget that you are the widow of Henry the Great the fact is ever present to yourself." And as she spoke, Leonora buried her face in the lap of her royal foster-sister, while her long black hair, which had become unfastened by the energy of her movements, fell to the floor and covered her like a pall.

Little did either the Queen or the Marquise at that moment anticipate how soon a deeper and a denser pall would replace those luxuriant and gleaming tresses! Happy was it for both that no prophetic glance into the future darkened the joy of that bright hour of reconciliation!

Meanwhile the Princesse de Conti, who dreaded the effect of this same reconciliation upon herself and her family, privately despatched a messenger to the Prince de Conde to inform him that Madame d'Ancre was at that very time closeted with the Regent, and that he must forthwith devise some method of terminating so dangerous a conference. M. de Conde was for a moment aghast; and on reflection could adopt no better expedient than that of prevailing upon M. de Breves, the governor of the Duc d'Orleans, to suggest to the young Prince that he should proceed to the apartments of his royal mother, in order to pay his respects to her Majesty. Monsieur obeyed; and Leonora was still seated on a cushion at the feet of her foster-sister, with her pale face pillowed upon her knees, when Madame de Conti threw open the door of the royal closet, and announced the Prince.

"Let Monseigneur await my pleasure without," exclaimed Marie angrily. "I understand the motive of this breach of etiquette, and shall reward it as it deserves. Leonora cara" she added, as the drapery again closed over the portal, "dry your tears; I owe you some recompense for all that you have suffered, and I will not be tardy in my requital."

At this instant some one scratched upon the door of the royal closet.

"Again!" cried the Queen indignantly. "See who waits, Madame du Fargis."

The Countess proceeded to draw aside the tapestry. "Madame," she said, as she retired a pace or two with a profound curtsey, "his Majesty the King."

"Ha!" exclaimed the Regent, starting from her seat, and advancing towards the young sovereign, whom she tenderly embraced, "your visit could not have been more welcome or better-timed, my son. The death of M. de Fervaques has created a vacancy which must be at once filled, and I have a marshal's commission for you to sign."

The wife of Concini gazed eagerly into the face of her royal mistress. Marie smiled. "Go, Madame," she said affectionately, "and bid the Marquis d'Ancre hasten here upon the instant to kiss the gracious hand from which he is about to receive a marshal's baton."

Leonora knelt before the startled King, who suffered her in silence to perform the same ceremony; and then radiant with happiness she pressed the jewelled fingers of the Queen to her quivering lips. "And hark you, Leonora," pursued Marie, "cause Concini to be announced by his new title when he seeks admission here. This will at once put an end to a host of rivalries which are now unavailing."

Madame d'Ancre hastily withdrew; but as she passed through the apartments of the Queen she remarked that the antechamber was already thronged with a crowd of courtiers, who had been attracted thither by curiosity; while they, in their turn, did not fail to detect in the flushed cheek and flashing eye of the Marquise the indications of some new triumph. Little, however, were they prepared for its extent; and when Concini, some minutes afterwards, appeared, with a sarcastic smile upon his lips, and glanced a look of defiance around him, even while he bowed right and left alike to his friends and to his enemies, every pulse quickened with anxiety. The suspense was but momentary. The Italian was preceded by one of the royal pages, who, as the captain of the guard flung back the door of the cabinet in which Louis XIII was still closeted with his mother, announced in a voice so audible that it was heard throughout the apartment, "Monseigneur le Marechal d'Ancre."

"Concini a Marshal of France!" exclaimed simultaneously the Ducs de Guise, d'Epernon, and de Bellegarde, who were standing together; and then there was a dead silence as the draperied door closed upon the exulting favourite.

FOOTNOTES:

[158] Siri, Mem. Rec. vol. iii. pp. 23, 24. D'Estrees, Mem. pp. 398, 399. Bassompierre, Mem. p. 80. Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 40, 41.

[159] Francois, Comte (and subsequently Duc) de la Rochefoucauld, Master of the Wardrobe to Louis XIII, was descended from one of the most ancient and noble families of France. He died in 1650.

[160] Richelieu, Hist. de la Mere et du Fils vol. i. pp. 204-206. D'Estrees, Mem. p. 399.

[161] This lady, who had commenced her career at Court by the most bitter enmity towards Bassompierre, was not long ere she became one of his firmest friends; and it was even asserted that, after the death of the Prince her husband, she privately bestowed her hand upon the fascinating Gentleman of the Bedchamber.

[162] Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 40-42. Le Vassor, vol. i. pp. 172, 173.

[163] Bassompierre, Mem. p. 81.

[164] Bassompierre, Mem. pp. 81-87. Le Vassor, vol. i. pp. 174-178. Richelieu, Hist. de la Mere et du Fils, vol. i. pp. 207-209. Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 42, 43.

[165] Mercure Francais, 1614.

[166] Bassompierre, Mem. pp. 88, 89.

[167] Le Vassor, vol. i. pp. 191, 192.

[168] Lingard, Hist. of England, vol. ix. p. 271.

[169] Siri, Mem. Rec. vol. iii. pp. 50-52.



CHAPTER VI

1614

New anxieties—Disaffection of the Princes—They demand a Reformation in the Government—Cunning of the Duc de Bouillon—Imprisonment of M. de Vendome—He escapes—The Regent suspects the sincerity of Bouillon—Conspiracy of the Ducs de Vendome and de Retz—The Duc de Nevers seizes Mezieres—Recall of M. d'Epernon—Marie de Medicis resolves to resign the Regency, but is dissuaded by her Council—Treasonable reports—Precarious position of the Queen—Levy of troops—Manifesto of the Prince de Conde—Reply of the Regent—Death of the Connetable—Duc de Montmorency—Bassompierre is appointed Colonel-General of the Swiss Guards—The march against M. de Conde—Marie endeavours to temporize—The price of loyalty—The Prince de Conde leaves Paris—Christening of the Duc d'Anjou and the Princesse Henriette Marie—A temporary calm—The Ducs de Vendome and de Retz excite the Burgundians to revolt—The Protestants refuse to join their faction—They are compelled to lay down their arms—The Prince de Conde marches upon Poitiers—The Church "military"—The prelate and the populace—A governor superseded—The Prince is compelled to withdraw to Chatellerault—He burns down the episcopal palace—The Court proceed to Poitou—Their reception—The Duc de Vendome makes his submission—The States assemble at Nantes—Enormities perpetrated by the troops of M. de Vendome—Folly of that Prince—Death of the Prince de Conti—A bachelor-Benedict—A nom de guerre—Majority of Louis XIII—The Bed of Justice—The assembly of the States-General is deferred—The King solicits his mother to retain her authority in the Government—Meeting of the States—The early years of Louis XIII—Charles Albert de Luynes—His antecedents—His ambition—His favour with the young King—He is made Governor of Amboise.

The commencement of the year 1614 was productive of new anxieties to the Queen-Regent. The Marechal de Bouillon, whose restless ambition was ever prompting him to some new enterprise, had warily, but not the less surely, possessed himself of the confidence of the Princes and the other dis-affected nobles, and had succeeded in aggravating their feelings against the Court party to such an extent that he experienced little difficulty in inducing them to abandon the capital and to retire to their several governments. M. de Conde had never forgiven the refusal of Marie to bestow upon him the command of the citadel of Chateau Trompette, or the recall of the ministers; and he also deeply resented the desertion of the Marechal d'Ancre from his interests, as well as the wealth and honours to which he had attained; while the Ducs de Nevers, de Mayenne, de Vendome, de Longueville, and de Piney-Luxembourg, together with a host of others, considered themselves aggrieved by their exclusion from power, and were consequently ready to espouse his cause. Thus Bouillon found it easy to induce them to retire simultaneously from the Court; and it was agreed that they should assemble in Champagne, and collectively demand a reform in the Government.

Accordingly the Prince de Conde took his leave of their Majesties on the 6th of January, and retired for a time to Chateauroux, whence he afterwards proceeded to Mezieres. This example was shortly followed by the other chiefs of his faction. The Duc de Nevers retired at once to Champagne, the Duc de Mayenne to the Isle of France, and M. de Longueville to Picardy. In February the Duc de Vendome prepared in his turn to join his friends; but as their purpose had by this time become apparent to the Regent, she caused him to be confined in an apartment of the Louvre; whence, however, he succeeded a short time afterwards in escaping by a door that had long been unused, and which being covered by the tapestried hanging of the chamber had been at length forgotten.

The Marechal de Bouillon, however, upon whom the cabal mainly relied, as his sovereignty of Sedan gave them the assurance of a secure retreat should they be menaced with reprisals, made no haste to imitate his dupes. He had been far too crafty to compromise himself beyond redemption with a party which might ultimately fail; and he had consequently calculated with great care the probable chances of furthering his own fortunes. After the departure of the Princes he formed his decision; and his first act was to wait upon the ministers, and to reveal to them the intentions of M. de Conde and his adherents; a communication which excited more annoyance than surprise in those to whom it was addressed. He then proceeded to the Louvre, where he repeated to the Regent what he had previously declared to her ministers; and although he tempered his information with assurances of the respect and attachment of the self-exiled Princes towards her person, Marie considered the mere fact of such a coalition so dangerous, that even when Bouillon volunteered to exert all his influence to induce them to abandon their design, and to return to the capital, although she accepted his offer, and permitted him to follow them ostensibly for that purpose, she was far from feeling reassured; and she soon had reason to discover that her fears were only too well—grounded; as the Duke, after an elaborate leave-taking at the palace, publicly declared that he was about to proceed to Sedan in order to avoid arrest.

This fact, coupled with the escape of M. de Vendome, who lost no time in reaching Brittany, where he was joined by the Duc de Retz[170] with an armed force, and took the town of Lamballe, sufficed to convince Marie that no faith must be placed in the professions of Bouillon; and she accordingly forwarded orders to all the governors of the royal fortresses to forbid the entrance of the Duc de Vendome within their walls, and commanded the Parliament to issue an edict for the suppression of levies of troops throughout Provence. This done, she next despatched the Duc de Ventadour to Chateauroux with letters of recall to M. de Conde; but before his arrival the Prince had left that city for Mezieres; and as the letters, which were forwarded to him, remained unanswered, the royal envoy was compelled to return to the capital without accomplishing his mission.

The next intelligence which reached the capital was the seizure of the citadel of Mezieres by the Duc de Nevers; and as matters daily assumed a more serious aspect, the Queen resolved to recall M. d'Epernon from Metz, whither he had withdrawn a few months previously, and to conciliate him by reviving in the person of his son M. de Candale the nominal office of First Lord of the Bedchamber, which he had himself held under Henri III; while, at the same time, she held out to the Duc de Guise the prospect of commanding the armies of the King, should it be found expedient to march against the Prince de Conde.

These precautions were, however, far from sufficient to tranquillize the mind of Marie de Medicis, who began to apprehend a renewal of the intestine calamities which had overwhelmed the nation during the preceding reigns; and satisfied that despite all her efforts at conciliation she was personally obnoxious to the Princes, she expressed her determination to resign the regency. Nor did either Concini or his wife, although their own fortunes were involved in her retirement, venture to dissuade her from her purpose, the threats of the disaffected nobles against themselves having convinced them that they had little mercy to expect at their hands should they still further urge the Queen to aggressive measures. From this hasty resolution Marie was, however, with some difficulty, dissuaded by her Council, who represented to her the dangerous position in which she could not fail to place the young King; who, utterly unaccustomed to public business, must prove incompetent to maintain his interests at so perilous a crisis as that which now excited her own fears.

The Regent readily admitted the validity of this argument; but in support of her purpose she informed them that she had just been apprised of a rumour which had spread in Brittany since the Duc de Vendome had retired from the Court, by which she was accused of having attempted to poison the King in order to lengthen her own period of power; and with pardonable indignation she declared that she possessed no other means of refuting so horrible a calumny than that which she had adopted, and that she consequently owed this justice to herself. As she was, however, still entreated to sacrifice her own feelings to the safety of the sovereign and the welfare of the kingdom, she at length yielded; but that she made the concession with reluctance was sufficiently evident.

"As regards the horrible crime imputed to me, Messieurs," she said, "I can only swear that I would rather suffer death than continue to live on under such an accusation. I am well aware, moreover, that this is not the only calumny which has been circulated against my person and reputation; nor is it the first time that the Marechal d'Ancre has been designated as the instigator of my unpopular measures; every new cabal inventing some fallacy to undermine my authority and to throw discredit upon my government. Since, however, you give it as your opinion that I shall better serve the King by retaining the regency until he shall be of fitting age to act upon his own responsibility, I will continue to exercise the power delegated to me by my late lord and husband; and to maintain that good understanding with my son which has ever hitherto existed between us."

The question was then discussed of whether it were more desirable to levy such troops as still remained faithful to the Crown, and at once endeavour to reduce the faction of the Princes by force, or to attempt a reconciliation by pacific means. The Cardinal de Joyeuse, Villeroy, and Jeannin were urgent that the former measure should be adopted; assigning as their reason that after the tergiversation and deceit of which the cabal had been convicted, they would profit by any delay on the part of the Government to strengthen their army, and to effect other means of defence, thus augmenting the difficulty of their suppression; the Chancellor was, however, of a different opinion, and counselled the Queen to avert, so long as it might be possible to do so, the horrors of a civil war. He represented to her the fact that all the principal nobles, with scarcely one exception, had leagued themselves with M. de Conde, while she had on her side only the Ducs de Guise and d'Epernon, who were, moreover, at variance; each coveting the dignity of Connetable, and scarcely seeking to disguise his jealousy of the other; and finally, he pointed out to her the dangerous attitude assumed by the Huguenots, who would not fail to take advantage of any civil dissension to advance their pretensions, which could only be done successfully during the minority of the sovereign.

Between these conflicting opinions Marie at length resolved to steer a middle course; and she consequently declared her intention of attempting by negotiation to reconcile the Princes, while at the same time she made a levy of six thousand Swiss troops.[171] She, moreover, by the advice of her Council, addressed a circular-letter to all the Parliaments of the kingdom, governors of provinces and fortresses, and mayors of towns, exhorting them to remain faithful to the Crown, and not to suffer themselves to be seduced by the Prince de Conde and his partisans; and terminating by the declaration that her Majesty had determined to convoke the States, in order to consult upon the measures necessary for ensuring the welfare and prosperity of the nation.

Meanwhile M. de Conde had assembled the leaders of his party at Mezieres, whence he forwarded a species of manifesto to the Queen-Regent, in which he complained in the name of his faction of "the waste of the public money; of the unworthiness of the individuals in power; of the undue authority assumed by the ministers; of the want of respect displayed towards the Princes of the Blood, the peers, and the officers of the Crown; of the obstacles endured by the Parliaments in the exercise of their jurisdiction; of the ruin of the great nobles; the excessive charges of the law courts; the oppression suffered by the people; the neglect exhibited in assembling the States-General; and the precipitation shown in concluding the marriage of the sovereign before he had attained his majority." Other objections followed, and then succeeded the conditions upon which the cabal declared themselves willing to return to their allegiance. The States-General were to be convened within three months; the royal marriages were to be deferred until the close of the Assembly; and the then-existing household of his Majesty was to be replaced by individuals of acknowledged probity.

The Prince at the same time wrote to the two Parliaments, to the Prince de Conti, to the dukes and peers, and to the great officers of the Crown, soliciting their assistance in the work of reform which he was about to undertake. Neither of the Parliaments, however, replied to his letter; and that addressed to Paris was placed unopened in the hands of the Regent, who forthwith forwarded it to the Chancellor.

The answer of Marie de Medicis to the manifesto addressed to herself was calm and dignified. She declared her willingness to assemble the States-General; but accompanied this concession by expressing her regret that the Prince should not, during the last four years, have personally made the representation, and assisted her in averting the evils of which he now complained, instead of absenting himself from the Court on the pretext of disapproving the proposed alliance with Spain, to which he had previously affixed his consent and signature. To each of his other objections he received an equally categorical reply; and the document terminated by an expression of her conviction that his offer to effect a reform in the state by pacific means rather than have recourse to force was desirable indeed, but little to be anticipated, since the formation of a cabal like that of which he had constituted himself the leader, and which was opposed to the legitimate authority of the sovereign, could only terminate in intestine broils, and compel the King to adopt the most violent measures in order to suppress it.

Precisely at this period intelligence reached the Court of the death of the veteran Connetable de Montmorency, one of the most gallant soldiers of his day, whose judgment and strong sense had long been proverbial, although he was utterly without education, and could scarcely sign his own name.

While the negotiation with Conde was still pending, a new anxiety added to the embarrassment of the Regent. The Swiss levies were about to be raised; but suspicions of the loyalty of the Duc de Rohan, who was colonel-general of this force, rendered her unwilling to confide so important a body of troops to his control; and she ultimately resolved to offer him a sum of money, and to induce him to resign his appointment. M. de Rohan readily acceded to the proposal, his position at that moment rendering him indifferent to its possession; and the Queen next sought to find an individual whose popularity with the Switzers, and devotion to her own interests, might render him an eligible successor to the displaced Duke. After considerable reflection she selected Bassompierre; but the suggestion was at once negatived by M. de Villeroy, who reminded her Majesty that the office was one which had never been filled by any person under the rank of a prince. So brilliant a prospect, however, gave the favoured courtier courage to plead his cause so successfully with his royal mistress, that she was at length induced to consent that, if he were enabled to persuade the Swiss themselves to solicit his appointment, the difficulty should be overcome. Fortunately for the aspirant the officer to whom the levies were entrusted was his personal friend, and so zealously did he advocate his cause that the Thirteen Cantons united in consenting to receive him as their leader; and Bassompierre, although only a petty noble of Lorraine, found himself invested with a command which was coveted by all the proudest subjects of France.

Two days subsequently the Court were informed that the Prince de Conde and the Duc de Nevers had taken Mezieres and Sainte-Menehould, upon which the newly-raised troops received orders to join M. de Praslin, who, with the remainder of the army, was concentrating his forces at Vitry. Their arrival so alarmed the insurgent party that they resolved to evacuate the latter city, and demanded that even should the troops remain in their vicinity, Bassompierre himself, who, from the share that he had taken in the affair throughout, was peculiarly obnoxious to them, should be recalled. The Duc de Ventadour and the President Jeannin, through whom M. de Conde and his party carried on their negotiation with the King, accordingly wrote to the young commander to apprise him that the Regent required his services in the capital, for reasons which she would explain on his arrival; and, greatly to his mortification, Bassompierre found himself compelled to retrace his steps.[172]

Once more Marie de Medicis resolved to afford to the adverse faction the opportunity of terminating their ill-advised struggle without bloodshed; and she accordingly despatched a trustworthy messenger to M. de Conde, volunteering to send deputies who should be authorized to effect a reconciliation. The offer was accepted, the malcontents having become paralyzed by the unexpected energy of their opponents; and after sundry meetings between the agents of the Government and the chiefs of the cabal, in which each made particular conditions for himself which were veiled by three demands of a more public nature, a treaty of peace was drawn up and signed by both parties, and amity was once more restored. Situated as they were, the Princes had been careful not to insist on more than they were aware would be readily conceded; and thus they asked only that the States-General should be convoked with as little delay as possible, that the double alliance with Spain should be delayed until the termination of the King's minority, and that the royal troops should be immediately disarmed.

To this last requisition the reply of the commissioners of the Crown was positive; the rebel faction were in the first place to lay down their own arms after which they pledged themselves that their example should be followed by the troops of the sovereign; and to this arrangement M. de Conde, after some hesitation, agreed.

Thus far all had progressed favourably; but the subsequent exactions of the disaffected party caused considerable anxiety in the Council of the Regent. The exorbitant pretensions of its leaders alarmed the ministers, but the crisis was sufficiently critical to induce them ultimately to satisfy the demands of their dearly-purchased allies. The Prince de Conde was invested with the government of Amboise, and received four hundred and fifty thousand livres in ready money. The Duc de Mayenne three hundred thousand, and the survivorship of the government of Paris; and all the other chiefs of the cabal the sums or governments that they had seen fit to exact; after which they ceased to insist upon the public grievances, and the Ducs de Longueville and de Mayenne returned to Court; an example which was followed by the Prince de Conde as soon as he had taken possession of his new government. The coldness with which he was received, however, and the little desire evinced to pay him that deference which he was ever anxious to exact, soon disgusted him with the capital, and he once more withdrew, little less disaffected than before.

On the 5th of June the Duc d'Anjou and the younger Princess were baptized at the Louvre with great ceremony, by the Cardinal de Bonzy, the almoner of the Queen. The sponsors of the Prince, who received the names of Gaston Jean Baptiste, were the ex-Queen Marguerite and the Cardinal de Joyeuse; while those given to his sister, who was held at the font by Madame and the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld, were Henriette Marie; this being the Princess who subsequently became the wife of the unhappy Charles I. of England.

The completion of the treaty with the Princes had restored the nation to apparent tranquillity, and the government of the Regent bore a semblance of stability to which it had not previously attained, when new troubles broke out through the restlessness and jealousy of Cesar de Vendome; who, having merely been reinstated in his government and other dignities, considered himself to have been ill-treated by the Prince de Conde, to whose care he had confided his interests, and who consequently resolved to enforce more ample justice for himself. With a view of effecting his purpose, he induced the Duc de Retz, who was equally dissatisfied, to follow his example, and Brittany soon became ripe for revolt. As, however, Vendome did not fail to perceive that without extending his faction he could not hope to make head successfully against the Court, he next endeavoured to engage M. de Rohan and the Protestants in his interest, believing the Duke to be much more powerful with the reformed party than he really was; and Rohan so far yielded as to attempt a convocation of the General Assembly in Gascony; but the prudence of Du Plessis-Mornay, who represented to the Huguenots the impolicy of embroiling themselves with the Government in order to gratify the ambition of an individual, decided them to refuse all participation in a political movement of that nature.

Repulsed but not discouraged, Vendome still persevered, and as his intrigues tended to unsettle the minds of the people, and to harass the Regent, she resolved to despatch the Marquis de Coeuvres, then recently returned from his embassy in Italy, to expostulate with him, and endeavour to recall him to reason. This mission was peculiarly distasteful to the Marquis, who, being nearly connected with M. de Vendome through his mother (Gabrielle d'Estrees), was fearful, should he fail to effect his purpose, that he must offend one or the other party; but as the commands of the Queen-mother were stringent, he was compelled to obey. His task proved an arduous one, the two Dukes warmly asserting their right to share in the benefits which M. de Conde had secured for himself and his immediate friends, and declaring their intention to obtain by force what they had been denied by the ingratitude of the Crown: nor was it until the envoy had been a second time instructed to assure them that should they persist in their disloyalty the King was prepared to march an army against them, that they were at length induced to sign a treaty which had been drawn up for that purpose, and to lay down their arms.

This desirable result had scarcely been accomplished when the Prince de Conde, disappointed by his government of Amboise (which he soon discovered to be of much less importance than he had imagined when he insisted upon its possession), resolved to make himself master of the city of Poitiers, where he had secured many and active allies, among whom the most considerable was the Due de Roannois, the governor; while in addition to this advantage he had also received from the Marquis de Bonnivet a promise that he would furnish a body of troops to assist him in his enterprise. The city was about to elect a mayor, and the friends of Conde had exerted themselves to the utmost to cause the choice of the citizens to fall upon an individual of their own party, but their design was penetrated by the Bishop,[173] who hastened to apprise the Regent of the cabal which had once more been commenced against her authority.

The communication of the prelate renewed all the apprehensions of Marie, who, after expressing her acknowledgments for his zeal, commanded him to adopt every means in his power to contravene the endeavours of the Prince and his adherents; and so ably did he fulfil her directions that he succeeded in winning over to the royal cause the greater number of the inhabitants; which he had no sooner accomplished than he caused the guards to be doubled, and thus rendered himself more powerful in the city than M. de Roannois himself. This fact soon became apparent to Conde, but he still trusted to the support of his friends, and accordingly presented himself at the gates with a small retinue, believing that the citizens would obey their governor, and refuse to oppose his entrance. The Bishop had, however, by the promptitude of his measures, effectually defeated the hopes of the Prince. He had loudly proclaimed in the streets that there was a conspiracy on foot for delivering up the city to the enemies of the King; and this announcement had at once sufficed to arouse all the energy of the inhabitants. In a short time the gates were closed, chains were stretched across the thoroughfares, and numerous barricades were erected. The prelate, gratified by these fearless evidences of his influence, became to the full as excited as his adherents, and arming himself with a pike, he placed himself at the head of the people, urging them to resist to the utmost the dishonour by which they were threatened; while the Governor, who was then inhabiting a suburban residence, no sooner became apprised of the belligerent demonstrations of the Bishop, and the effects which they had produced, than he galloped to the gates with the intention of opposing his authority to that of his clerical antagonist. At his command the gates were opened, and directing the immediate demolition of the barricades, he proceeded to the episcopal palace; not, however, without being subjected to the abuse of the irritated populace. The Bishop, whose policy was not inferior to his courage, offered him an asylum until the fury of the crowd should be appeased; and M. de Roannois, alarmed by the rough reception he had already encountered, at once accepted the offer, and thus became the prisoner of the prelate; who, producing the letter of the Regent, issued the orders necessary to ensure the safety of the city. Nor was this all; for with a sword by his side, the Bishop personally posted the sentinels at nightfall, and distributed money from his own private purse to the non-military combatants who had formed themselves into a militia.

Enraged by his disappointment, M. de Conde, after vainly attempting to obtain a hearing from the excited citizens, found himself compelled to retire with his companions, having on his way burnt down the country palace of the bishops of Poitiers; and he had no sooner reached that city than he wrote to the Regent to complain of the insult to which he had been subjected by the inhabitants of Poitiers, and to demand justice. The sympathies of the Court were, however, with the adverse party; but Marie de Medicis was so well aware of the consequences to be apprehended from Conde's irritation that she resolved to proceed to Poitou and Brittany in person, on the pretext of the weak health of the King, by whom she was to be accompanied. She accordingly caused a rumour to be spread that Louis had displayed symptoms of disease which rendered it probable that he could not long survive; and having done this, the troops were warned to hold themselves in readiness to leave the capital with his Majesty. Meanwhile the Due de Mayenne was despatched to M. de Conde to assure him on the part of the Regent that every respect should be paid to his representations, and at the same time letters of abolition were sent to all his adherents; although he was requested to retire from Poitou during the sojourn of their Majesties. To this demand Conde at first demurred; but finding that he could not succeed in securing the assistance of the reformed party, he at length consented to withdraw; and not venturing to return to Amboise, he took up his temporary residence at Chateauroux in Berry.