"Fear not, Madame," said the painter, as he rose from his knee, and placed writing materials before the agitated Queen. "In so righteous a cause I shall be protected; but as further delay might prove fatal to our hopes, I would venture to implore your Majesty to lose no time in preparing the despatch of which I am to be the bearer."

"It shall be done," replied Marie, forcing a painful smile. "It will in all probability be my last appeal; for should you fail, Rubens, I shall feel that all is indeed lost!"

The artist bowed profoundly, and left the room in order to give the necessary orders for his immediate departure; while his royal guest seized a pen, and with a trembling hand, and in almost illegible characters, wrote the following affecting letter:—

"Sire—During many years I have been deprived of your dear presence, and have implored your clemency without any reply. God and the Holy Virgin are my witnesses that my greatest suffering throughout that period has proceeded less from exile, poverty, and humiliation, than from the estrangement of a son, and the loss of his dear presence. Meanwhile I am becoming aged, and feel that each succeeding hour is bringing me more rapidly to the grave. Thus, Sire, would it not be a cruel and an unnatural thing that a mother should expire without having once more seen her beloved son, without having heard one word of consolation from his lips, without having obtained his pardon for the involuntary wrongs of which she may have been guilty towards him? I do not ask of you, Sire, to return to France as a powerful Queen; should such be your good pleasure, I will not even appear again at Court, and will finish my life in any obscure town which you may see fit to select as my residence; but, in the name of God and all the Saints, I adjure you not to allow me to die out of the kingdom of France; or to suffer me any longer to drag my sorrows and my misery from one foreign city to another; for you are not aware, Sire, that the widow of Henri IV, and the mother of the reigning monarch of France and Navarre, Louis XIII, will soon be without a roof to shelter her head, and a little bread for her support! You are not aware, Sire, that if the hour of my death were now to strike, no one would be beside me to close my eyes, and to say, 'This is the body of Marie de Medicis.' Take then compassion on my very humble request, Sire; and receive, whatever may be your decision, the blessings of your mother.

"In the city of Antwerp, the ninth day of October of the year of our salvation MDCXLI.—I, the Queen-mother, MARIE."

As the painter-prince returned to the apartment, the Queen placed this letter in his hands; and glancing at his travelling-garb, said in a faltering voice: "So soon, Maestro? But you are right, and I may the earlier look for your return."

Alas! once more the persecuted Princess suffered her sanguine temperament to delude her into hope; but by one of those singular coincidences which appear almost fabulous, Rubens had scarcely taken leave of his family, and was about to enter the carriage that awaited him, when a courier in the livery of the Governor of the Low Countries galloped into the yard, and demanded to be ushered into the presence of the Queen. Startled and alarmed by so unexpected an apparition, Rubens had no alternative but to obey; and the messenger no sooner found himself standing before Marie de Medicis, than, with a profound reverence, he placed a letter in her hands, and with a second salutation retired.

The Queen-mother hastily tore open the packet, of which these were the contents:—

"Madame la Reine—We hereby inform you that the city of Antwerp cannot afford you a befitting asylum, and that you would do better to take up your residence at Cologne.

"Upon which, we pray God to keep you under His holy and efficient guard.—I, the Governor of the Low Countries,

"DON FRANCISCO DE MELLO." [230]

Marie de Medicis sank back upon her seat, and silently held the insulting letter towards Rubens.

"There is indeed no time to lose, Madame," exclaimed the artist, as he glanced rapidly over its contents. "The spies of the Cardinal have tracked you hither, and you must quit Flanders without delay. Dare I hope that, in this emergency, your Majesty will deign to occupy a house which I possess at Cologne, until my return from Paris?"

"Rubens, you are my preserver!" faltered the wretched Queen. "Do with me as you will. You will meet your recompense in Heaven."

A few hours subsequently two carriages drove from the courtyard of Rubens; the first contained Marie de Medicis and two of her ladies, and took the way to Cologne; while the second, which was occupied by Rubens, drove towards Paris.

On the 12th of October the Queen-mother reached her final resting-place, and received permission to reside within the city; but this was the only concession accorded to her; and in one of the most ancient and gloomy streets in the immediate vicinity of the Cloth-market and the Church of Saint Margaret, she took possession of a Gothic house in which the greatest genius of the Flemish school had first seen the light. The room in which Rubens was born had been reverently preserved in all its original comfort by his family, and this apartment became the private chamber of the Queen; who, for a time, sanguine as to the result of the painter's mission, and rendered doubly hopeful by the constant reports which reached her of the rapidly-declining health of Richelieu, supported her new misfortunes with courage.

Unfortunately, however, for his victim, it was only physical suffering by which the Cardinal was prostrated, for never had his mental powers appeared more clear or more acute, or his iron will more indomitable, than at this period, when a slow but painful disease was gradually wearing away his existence; while superadded to this marvellous strength and freshness of intellect—marvellous inasmuch as it triumphantly resisted both physical agony and the conception of all those rapidly-recurring and conflicting political combinations by which he had excited alike the wonder and mistrust of every European state—his irritation and impatience under the restraint enforced upon him by his bodily ailments rendered him a more formidable enemy than ever. Prematurely old, ruined in constitution, ever dreading the knife of the assassin and the pen of the satirist, greedy of gold and power, wrapping himself lovingly in the purple and fine linen of earth, while conscious that ere long the sumptuous draperies of pride must be exchanged for a winding-sheet, Richelieu looked with a jaundiced eye on all about him, and appeared to derive solace and gratification only from the sufferings of others. He had pursued the unfortunate Duc de la Valette with his hatred until the Parliament, composed almost entirely of the creatures of his will and the slaves of his passions, had condemned to death the representative of the proud race of Epernon; and he had no sooner accomplished this object than, emboldened by his fatal success, he next ventured to fly his falcon at a still nobler quarry; and he accordingly accused one of the natural sons of Henri IV, the Duc de Vendome, of conspiring against his life. As, however, the Prince was not within his grasp, so that his condemnation could not consequently involve the loss of life, he contented himself with causing him to be declared guilty par contumace, and with subsequently making a display of affected generosity, and soliciting his pardon.

"Had he," said the Cardinal, in his wiry and peculiar tone, which was broken at intervals by a hoarse and hollow cough—"had he conspired against the sovereign or against the state, my duty as a minister, and my devotion as a subject, would have compelled me on this occasion to remain silent; but it was against my person alone that M. de Vendome threatened violence, and I can forgive a crime which extended no further."

Great was the wonder, and still greater the admiration, expressed by the time-serving sycophants to whom he addressed himself. The several members of the Council argued and remonstrated, assuring his Eminence that he owed it to himself to let justice take its course; and entreating that he would not endeavour to influence the sovereign on so serious an occasion, where his generous self-abnegation might involve his future safety; but Richelieu only replied with one of his ambiguous smiles that he could not, in order to save his own life, consent to sacrifice that of a Prince of the Blood; while at the same time he induced the King to exile the Duchesse de Vendome and her two sons, MM. de Mercoeur and de Besancon, from the capital. The members of the Court by which the Duke had been tried and condemned were then commanded to meet at an early hour in the morning on the 22nd of March at St. Germain-en-Laye, where Louis XIII presided over the assembly in person; and they had scarcely taken their seats when it was announced to the King that Le Clerc, the secretary of the Cardinal-Minister, awaited in the ante-room the royal permission to deliver to the Chancellor a letter of which he was the bearer. His entrance having been sanctioned by the sovereign, Le Clerc placed his despatches in the hands of Seguier, who hastily cut the silk by which they were secured, and he had no sooner made himself acquainted with their contents than he addressed a few words in a low voice to the King.

"Gentlemen," said Louis, as the Chancellor fell back into his seat, "his Eminence the Cardinal de Richelieu is desirous that I should pardon M. de Vendome; but such is not my own opinion; I owe my protection to those who, like M. le Cardinal, have served me with affection and fidelity; and were I not to punish all attempts against his life, I should experience great difficulty in finding ministers who would transact public business with the same courage and devotion as my cousin of Richelieu has done. M. le Cardinal eagerly demands a free pardon for the Duc de Vendome; but no, no; I will not concede that pardon at present; I will merely suspend the trial; and that measure will, believe me, prove the most efficient one to hold in check so impetuous a character as his. Nevertheless, read the letter aloud," he added, "that the Court may have full cognizance of every circumstance connected with this unhappy affair."

Seguier, after a profound obeisance to the sovereign, once more unfolded the packet, of which these were the contents:

"Monsieur le Chancelier, the interests of the state having ever been the sole object of my attention and anxiety, I consider that the public will not be in any way benefited by a knowledge of the evil design of M. le Duc de Vendome; and thus I have thought that I might, without any prejudice to the royal service, implore of his Majesty to pardon M. de Vendome."

Once more did the well-acted generosity and self-abnegation of the wily Cardinal excite a universal and enthusiastic murmur of admiration; while one of the Council, anxious to exhibit his attachment to the person of Richelieu in the presence of the King, even carried his sycophancy so far as to exclaim: "What a noble spirit! I propose that the letter to which we have just listened should be inscribed on the parliamentary register in order that it may descend to posterity." No answering voice, however, seconded the proposition; for few who were present at this extraordinary scene, and who remembered that the relatives of the accused Prince had been driven from Paris at the instigation of the Cardinal, doubted for an instant that they were actors in a preconcerted drama, and they consequently remained silent, until the King, after having glanced rapidly over the assembly, rose from his seat, and said somewhat impatiently: "Gentlemen, you may retire."

Such was the abrupt and indefinite termination of a trial which had, as Richelieu intended that it should do, convulsed the whole aristocracy of France. The son of Henri IV could not again set his foot upon the soil of that kingdom which counted him among its Princes save at the risk of his life; while his unoffending wife and sons were banished to a distance from the capital which was their legitimate sphere of action, and branded as the relatives of a conspirator.

The next victim of the inexorable Cardinal was M. de Saint-Preuil, the Governor of Arras, who had fought valiantly against the Spaniards, and in whom the King had evinced the greatest confidence. Accused upon some frivolous pretext—although M. de Saint-Preuil had been assured by Louis himself that he was at perfect liberty to exercise his authority within the limits of his government as he should see fit, without being amenable to any other individual—he was arrested, tried, and executed, despite the desire of the weak monarch to turn aside the iron hand by which he had been clutched. In this instance the vindictive minister could afford to satiate his hatred, and even to give to his merciless vengeance a semblance of patriotism, for here at least his own safety or interests were not involved; and thus to all the representations of his royal master he replied by lamenting that he dare not overlook the commission of crime, while the welfare of a great nation and the safety of its sovereign were confided to his care. It was no part of Richelieu's policy to tolerate any individual, however inferior to himself in rank and station, who ventured to place himself beyond the pale of his own jealous authority; and thus the overstrained indulgence of the King to a brave and successful soldier had signed his death-warrant.

Still did the fatal disease which was preying upon the vitals of the Cardinal silently work its insidious way, and reveal its baneful power by sleepless nights, burning fever, and sharp bodily pain; but his powerful mind and insatiable ambition enabled him to strive successfully against these enervating influences; and Saint-Preuil was scarcely laid in his dishonoured grave ere the remorseless minister sought around him for more victims. The Comte de Soissons, who had been exiled from the Court for resenting the arrogance of the Cardinal, had found an asylum with the Duc de Bouillon at Sedan,[231] where it had, after considerable difficulty, been conceded that he should be permitted to remain unmolested for the space of four years, after which time he was to remove to some other residence selected by the King, or in point of fact, by Richelieu himself. The period named had now expired; and the Cardinal, anxious still further to humiliate the great nobles, to whom, as he was bitterly aware, his own obscure extraction was continually matter of contemptuous comment, exacted from the timid and yielding monarch that he should forthwith issue his commands to M. de Bouillon to deliver up his cousin De Soissons to the keeping of his Majesty; or that both Princes should humbly ask forgiveness of the Cardinal-Minister for the affronts which they had put upon him.

The receipt of this offensive order at once determined the conduct of the two friends. That the Comte de Soissons, a member of the haughty house of Conde, and the Duc de Bouillon, the independent sovereign of Sedan, both Princes of the Blood, should condescend to bend the knee, and to entreat the clemency of Armand du Plessis, was an extent of humiliation which neither the one nor the other could be brought to contemplate for an instant; and thus it was instantly decided between them that they would resist the mandate of the King even to the death; while their opposition was strengthened by the impetuous vituperations of the young Duc de Guise, who had, after a misunderstanding with the minister, also claimed the hospitality of M. de Bouillon, and who welcomed with enthusiasm so favourable an opportunity of revenging himself upon his adversary.

The animosity of M. de Guise had grown out of his jealousy, which had been excited by the ostentatious attentions paid by Richelieu to the Princesse Gonzaga de Nevers, to whom he was himself tenderly attached, and who was, moreover, the idol of the whole Court. Eagerly, therefore, did he enter into the views of his aggrieved associates; and, as their determination to resist the presumption of the haughty minister necessarily involved precautionary measures of no ordinary character, they lost no time in despatching a secret messenger to solicit the support of the Archduke and the Spanish agents. With Don Miguel of Salamanca they found little difficulty in concluding a treaty; and this desirable object attained, they effected a second with the Court of Vienna; while Jean Francois Paul de Gondy, who subsequently became celebrated during the Fronde as the Cardinal de Retz, was instructed to apprise their friends in Paris of the contemplated revolt, and to urge their co-operation. The Duc de Guise meanwhile proceeded to Liege, in order to levy troops for the reinforcement of the rebel army; the several envoys having been instructed to declare that the Princes were still devoted to their sovereign, and that they merely took up arms to protect themselves against the violence and perfidy of the Cardinal-Minister. Anxious to strengthen their faction at home, Soissons, confiding in the frequent professions of attachment which had been lavished upon him by Gaston d'Orleans, wrote to that Prince to explain their motives and purposes, and to induce him to join in the conspiracy. For once, however, Monsieur, much as he delighted in feuds and factions, declined to take any part in their meditated resistance to the ministerial authority, his own position having been rendered so brilliant through the policy of the Cardinal that he feared to sacrifice the advantages thus tardily secured; while, moreover, not satisfied with returning evasive answers to M. de Soissons, which induced that Prince to pursue the correspondence under the belief that his arguments would ultimately induce Monsieur to join their party, he had the baseness, in order to further his personal interests with the all-powerful minister, to communicate to him the several letters of the Count immediately that they reached him.

Irritated by the contemptuous epithets applied to him in these unguarded epistles, and anxious to avert a danger which the delay of every succeeding hour tended to render still more threatening, Richelieu determined at once to attack the stronghold of his enemies; and an army under the command of the Marechal de Chatillon was accordingly despatched against Sedan. The result of the expedition proved, however, inimical to the interests of the Cardinal, as the royal general was utterly defeated, and more than two thousand of the King's troops, together with the artillery and the treasure-chest, fell into the hands of the rebels. The battle, fatal as it was in the aggregate, nevertheless afforded one signal triumph to Richelieu in the death of the Comte de Soissons, who was killed by the pistol-ball of a gendarme, to whom, as a recompense for the murder of his kinsman, Louis XIII accorded both a government and a pension. Dispirited by the fate of the young Prince, to whom he was tenderly attached, Bouillon attempted no further resistance, but tendered without delay his submission to the sovereign, and received in return a free pardon, together with all those individuals who had joined his banner, save the Duc de Guise, who, not having been included in the treaty, was condemned par contumace.[232]

This result, so strongly opposed to the ordinarily severe policy of Richelieu, was not, as must at once be apparent, obtained through his influence. Powerful as he was through the King's sense of his own helplessness, he had been throughout the whole of his ministerial career thwarted at times by the ruling favourites of Louis, whose puerile tastes rendered him as dependent upon others for mere amusement as he was for assistance and support in the government of his kingdom. We have already seen the projects of the haughty Cardinal at times traversed by the equally arrogant and ambitious De Luynes, who was succeeded in the favour and intimacy of the sovereign by M. de Saint-Simon,[233] from whom the minister experienced equal annoyance; while the platonic attachment of the King for Mademoiselle de Hautefort, whose energetic habits and far-seeing judgment had involved him in still greater difficulties, determined him to select such a companion for Louis as, while he ministered to the idleness and ennui of his royal master, should at the same time subserve his own interests. To this end, Richelieu, after mature deliberation, selected as the new favourite a page named Cinq-Mars,[234] whose extraordinarily handsome person and exuberant spirits could not fail, as he rightly imagined, to attract the fancy and enliven the leisure of the moody sovereign.

This young noble, who was the son of an old and tried friend of the Cardinal, had appeared at Court under his auspices, and consequently regarded him as the patron of his future fortunes; a conviction which tended to give to the relative position of the parties a peculiar and confidential character well suited to the views of the astute minister. Cinq-Mars, like all youths of his age, was dazzled by the brilliancy of the Court, and eager for advancement; while he was at the same time reckless, unscrupulous, and even morbidly ambitious; but these defects were concealed beneath an exterior so prepossessing, manners so specious, and acquirements so fascinating; there was such a glow and glitter in his scintillating writ and uncontrollable gaiety, that few cared to look beyond the surface, and all were loud in their admiration of the handsome and accomplished page.



Such was the tool selected by Richelieu to fashion out his purposes, and he found a ready and a willing listener in the son of his friend, when, with warm protestations of his esteem for his father and his attachment to himself, he declared his intention of placing the ardent youth about the person of his sovereign under certain conditions, which were at once accepted by Cinq-Mars. These conditions, divested of the courtly shape in which they were presented to protege, were simply that while the page devoted himself to the amusement of his royal master, he should carefully report to the Cardinal, not only the actions of the King, but also the private conversations which might take place in his presence, and the share maintained by the sovereign in each.

Had Cinq-Mars been less aspiring than he was, it is probable that although yet a mere youth he would have shrunk with disgust from so humiliating a proposition; but he remembered the career of De Luynes, and he disregarded in the greatness of the end the unworthiness of the means by which it was to be obtained. The brilliant page was accordingly presented to the unsuspicious monarch by the minister, and, as the latter had anticipated, at once captivated the fancy of Louis, who having satisfied himself that Cinq-Mars possessed a sufficient knowledge of those sports in which he himself delighted, at once consented to receive him into his household.

For a time the page served with equal assiduity both the King and the Cardinal, to the former of whom he so soon rendered himself essential that although the confidential friends of Louis were occasionally startled to find their most secret words known to the minister, and did not scruple to express their suspicion that they were betrayed by Cinq-Mars, Louis, too indolent and too selfish to risk the displeasure of Richelieu, or to deprive himself of an agreeable associate, merely laughed at the absurdity of such a supposition, and continued to treat the page with the same confidence and condescension as heretofore.

Gradually did Cinq-Mars meanwhile weary of the complicated role which he was called upon to perform. He saw the health of the Cardinal failing day by day; and he detected, from the querulous complaints in which Louis constantly indulged against his imperious minister, that although he was feared by his sovereign there was no tie of affection between them. At this period the young courtier began for the first time to reflect; and the result of his reflections was to free himself unostentatiously and gradually, but nevertheless surely, from the thrall of his first patron. This resolution, however, was one which it required more tact and self-government than he yet possessed to reduce to practice, and accordingly the quick eye of Richelieu soon detected in the decreased respect of his bearing, and the scantiness of his communications, the nature of the feelings by which he was actuated.

Nevertheless, the minister was conscious of one advantage over the self-centred monarch of which he resolved to avail himself in order to fix the wavering fidelity of the page. Louis, while jealous of the devotion of those about him, was careless in recompensing their services; while Richelieu, with a more intimate knowledge of human nature, and, above all, of the nature of courts, deemed no sacrifice too great which ensured the stability of his influence, and the fidelity of his adherents. Thus, affecting not to remark the falling-off of affection in his agent, he intermingled his discourse to the ambitious young man with regrets that the monarch had not rewarded his zeal by some appointment in the royal household which would give him a more definite position than that which he then held. This was a subject which never wearied the attention of Cinq-Mars, who with flashing eyes and a heightened colour listened eagerly; and the Cardinal no sooner perceived that by his quasi-condolences he had regained in a great degree his former influence, than he bade the page serve him faithfully, and he would himself atone for the negligence of the King. Nor was the promise an idle one, as within the short space of two years he caused the new favourite to be appointed both Master of the Wardrobe and Grand Equerry.

This promotion proved, however, too rapid for the vanity of Cinq-Mars: who no sooner saw himself in a position so brilliant as to excite the envy of half the Court than, with a self-confidence fatal to the interests of Richelieu, he once more sought deliverance from the yoke of his priest-patron, and devoted himself so earnestly to the service of Louis that ere long the King found his companionship indispensable. When by chance he absented himself for a few hours from Fontainebleau, in order to exchange the monotony of that palace for the dissipation of the capital, the King no sooner became aware of the fact than after having impatiently reiterated more than once, "Cinq-Mars! Where is Cinq-Mars?" he despatched a courier to Paris to recall him: and the pleasure-loving young man was compelled to return upon the instant to attend his royal master in a stag-hunt, or to parade his satins and velvets among the hounds whom Louis delighted to feed and fondle; until he began to be weary of the honours which he had so lately coveted, and to sigh for unrestrained intercourse with his former associates.

With still less patience, however, did he endure the imperious chidings of the Cardinal, who could not brook that one who owed his advancement to his favour should seek to emancipate himself from his control; and the spoiled child of fortune, when he occasionally passed from the perfumed boudoir of some haughty Court beauty by whom he had been flattered and caressed to the closet of the minister where he was greeted by a stern brow and the exclamation of "Cinq-Mars, Cinq-Mars, you are forgetting yourself!" found considerable difficulty in controlling his impetuosity; but it was even worse when to this rebuke Richelieu at times added in a contemptuous tone: "Remember to whom you owe your fortune, and that it will be quite as easy for me to divest you of the high-sounding titles which have turned your brain as it was to procure them for you. Be warned, therefore; for if you do not conduct yourself with more propriety, and evince more respect for my authority, I will have you turned out of the palace like a lackey."

The constant repetition of these taunts made the impetuous blood of the haughty youth boil in his veins; while the lingering remnant of affection which he had hitherto retained for the friend of his father and his own benefactor became gradually changed to hate, and impelled him to redouble his zeal about the person of the sovereign, in order that he might one day secure sufficient influence over the latter's mind to enable him to revenge the insults offered to his pride.

At this precise period Cinq-Mars—who, had he not been brought into close contact with a more matured and stronger mind than his own, would in all probability have frittered away his vengeance in petty and puerile annoyances which would rather have worried than alarmed the Cardinal—formed a fast friendship with Francois Auguste de Thou, who had long ceased to conceal his hatred of the minister. In the study of his father, the celebrated historian, M. de Thou had learned to feel an innate contempt for all constituted authorities, even while he professed to be at once a Catholic, a royalist, and a patriot; but, unlike his father, the young scholar was not satisfied with theories; he required active employment for the extraordinary energies with which he was gifted; and abandoning the literary leisure in which the elder De Thou so much delighted, he became in early manhood commissary of the army of the Cardinal de la Valette during his Italian campaign, and subsequently he was appointed Councillor of State, and principal librarian to the King. With his peculiar principles, De Thou could not do otherwise than deprecate and detest the overwhelming power of Richelieu; and long ere he crossed the path of Cinq-Mars, he had entered into several cabals against the minister, a fact which had no sooner been ascertained by the Cardinal than he deprived him of his public offices, and thus rendered his animosity more resolute than ever. It was in this temper of mind that De Thou met the Grand Equerry; nor was it long ere the wild visions of Cinq-Mars's passion were fashioned into probability by the logical arguments of his new acquaintance; a circumstance of which he no sooner became convinced than he forthwith resolved not to suffer his indignation to vent itself in mere annoyance, but to seek some more noble and enduring vengeance.

Thenceforward the two friends became inseparable; and when De Thou at length hinted that Cinq-Mars would in all probability, from his great favour with the sovereign, become the successor of Richelieu in the event of his dismissal, the Equerry sprang at once from a peevish and mortified boy into a resolute and daring conspirator, and his first care was to secure the co-operation of his kinsman the Duc de Bouillon; who, while auguring favourably of the plot, and pledging himself to strengthen it by his own participation, represented to his young relative the absolute necessity of obtaining the support of Monsieur.

Gaston had withdrawn from the Court after the birth of the two Princes; and although he had, with his usual pusillanimity, continued to preserve an apparently good understanding with the Cardinal, few were deceived into the belief that this ostensible oblivion of the past was genuine. Monsieur was, when the subject of the new cabal against Richelieu was mooted to him by Cinq-Mars, residing in the Luxembourg (known at that period as the Palais d'Orleans), whither the Grand Equerry was accustomed to repair in disguise, and generally during the night, to concert with the Prince all the preliminaries of the conspiracy. Gaston, as had been anticipated, evinced no indisposition to lend himself to the views of Cinq-Mars and his friends,[235] when they eventually assured him that they had certain information of the efforts which the Cardinal was at that very period making to secure his own nomination to the regency of the kingdom, in the event of the then-pending journey to Catalonia, whither Louis was about to proceed early in the ensuing spring, to swear to the inviolate preservation of the ancient laws and privileges of the Catalans; and at the same time to endeavour to possess himself of the province of Roussillon, although the infirm state of his health would have appeared to render such an expedition too hazardous to be contemplated at such a season.

Like his successor Louis XIV, the son of Marie de Medicis was one of the most "unamusable" of monarchs; and like Cinq-Mars himself, he was weary of the unvaried routine of pleasures which made up the sum of his existence while confined to his own capital; and thus he welcomed every prospect of change without caring to investigate the motives of those by whom it was proposed. He did not, therefore, for an instant suspect that the motive of his ambitious minister in urging him to undertake upon the instant, and in a state of excessive bodily suffering, an expedition which might with safety have been deferred until a more genial season, was in reality to remove him to a distance from the Parliament and the citizens of Paris, and to place him between two armies, both of which were commanded by Richelieu's own near relatives and devoted friends, in order that should the already exhausted strength of the invalid sovereign fail him under the fatigue and privation of so severe an exertion, the Cardinal might cause himself to be declared Regent of the kingdom after his death.

Others were, however, less blind to the real views of the Cardinal, which were freely canvassed by the courtiers, who looked upon the expedition with distrust as they studied the plan of the campaign, and reflected on the measures which were to be adopted for the government of the country during the absence of the monarch. These were, indeed, undeniably calculated to awaken their apprehensions; as, acting under the advice of his minister, Louis had determined that he would be accompanied on his journey by the Queen and the Duc d'Orleans; that the Dauphin and the Duc d'Anjou should take up their abode until his return in the Castle of Vincennes, of which the governor was devoted to the interests of Richelieu; while the Prince de Conde, who was also his sworn friend, was appointed to the command of Paris, and authorized, in conjunction with the Council, whose members were the mere creatures of his will, to regulate the internal administration of the kingdom.

All these circumstances, amplified, moreover, by ingenious conjectures and envenomed deductions, Cinq-Mars poured into the willing ear of Monsieur; and while agents were despatched to Spain and Flanders to invite the co-operation of those sovereigns, the Grand Equerry continued his secret visits to the Luxembourg with an impunity that augured well for the success of the perilous undertaking in which he was embarked; and which at length emboldened Monsieur to receive in like manner the emissaries of Ferdinand and Philip. These nocturnal movements were not, however, so unobserved as the conspirators had believed; and the result of the suspicions which they engendered is so quaintly narrated by Rambure that we shall give it in the identical words of the garrulous old chronicler himself:

"One evening," he says, "when I was in the buttery of the Cardinal, where I was eating some sweetmeats, his Eminence entered and asked for a draught of strawberry syrup. While he was drinking it the Comte de Rochefort arrived in his turn, and informed him that during the preceding night, as he was passing the Palace of the Luxembourg, he saw a man come out whom he instantly recognized as a certain Florent Radbod whom he had formerly met at Brussels, and whom he knew to have been frequently employed in secret matters of state. The lateness of the hour, which was, as he further stated, two in the morning, led him to believe that an individual of this description would not be there save for some important reason.

"'You were very wrong not to follow him,' said his Eminence.

"'I did so,' replied M. de Rochefort; 'but he was on his guard, and soon perceived that he was dogged. Therefore, thinking it better not to excite his suspicions, I turned aside and left him.'

"'You did well,' said Richelieu; 'but what description of person is this Radbod? What is his age? his complexion? his height? Tell me every particular by which he may be recognized. M. de Rambure, have you your pencil about you?'

"'I have my tablets, Monseigneur.'

"'Write down then without loss of time,' said the Cardinal, 'the portrait of this man.'

"I immediately obeyed, and my task was no sooner completed than his Eminence gave orders that at every post-house where carriages could be hired notice should be instantly given to himself if a person answering the description should endeavour to secure the means of leaving Paris. He also stationed men at every avenue leading from the city, who were to watch night and day, lest he might escape in the coach of an acquaintance. On the following morning his Eminence sent to summon me an hour before dawn, and I was surprised on my arrival to find him pacing his chamber in his dressing-gown.

"'Rambure,' he said as I entered, 'I confess to you that I suspect some conspiracy is on foot against the King, the state, and myself; and, moreover, if I am not deceived, it is organizing at the Luxembourg with the consent and connivance of the Duc d'Orleans; but as this is mere suspicion, I am anxious, in order to see my way more clearly, to place some confidential person as a sentinel near the palace to watch who goes in and out.'

"After having hesitated for a time, I told his Eminence that I was willing to undertake the adventure, and quite ready to obey his commands.

"'I have faith in you, M. de Rambure,' said the Cardinal; 'I am perfectly convinced of the affection which you bear, not only towards the King and the state, but also towards myself; but I have determined to desire M. de Rochefort to disguise himself as a cripple, and to take up his position in front of the Luxembourg, where he must remain day and night until he has discovered whether it were really the Fleming that he saw.'

"Then, summoning a page who was waiting in the antechamber, his Eminence sent for M. de Rochefort, who was not long in coming; and told him what he proposed. Rochefort, who was always ready to comply with every wish of the Cardinal, immediately declared his willingness to play the part assigned to him; and a trusty person who had attended him to the apartment of Monseigneur was instructed to procure without loss of time, and with the greatest secrecy, a pair of crutches, a suit of rags, and all the articles necessary to complete the metamorphosis.

"His Eminence having, on the return of the lackey, expressed his desire to witness the effect of the disguise, M. de Rochefort retired to another chamber, where, with the assistance of his servant, he exchanged his velvet vest and satin haut-de-chausses for the foul garb of a mendicant; this done, he smeared his face with dirt, and crouching down in a corner, he requested me to announce to Monseigneur that he was ready to receive him. His Eminence was astonished at his appearance, as well as to see him act the character he had assumed as if he had studied and practised it all his life. He told him to set forth, and that if he succeeded in his attempt he would render him the greatest service which he had ever received.

"As soon as the Cardinal had taken leave of Rochefort, he said to me: 'In the disguise the Count has on, and when he is crouched upon his dunghill like a miserable cripple, it will be easy for him to look every one in the face; and I hope he will make some discovery of that which troubles me.' His Eminence then told me that he wanted my valet, to place him in disguise in another direction. I therefore called him. He was a very sharp fellow at everything that was required of him; and the Cardinal made him put on a shabby cassock, with a false beard of grizzled hair and eyebrows to match, which were all fastened on with a certain liquid so firmly to the skin that it was necessary to apply vinegar in which the ashes of vine-twigs had been steeped, when they instantly fell off. My Basque was at length dressed in a torn, threadbare cassock, masked by his false beard, with an old hat upon his head, a breviary under his arm, and a tolerably thick stick in his hand, and received an order to post himself near the little gate of the Luxembourg stables. The Cardinal then desired me not to leave him, as he had certain orders to give me which he could not entrust to every one on such an occasion.

"M. de Rochefort took up his station at the corner of the Rue de Tournon, laid himself down on a heap of manure, and began, with his face covered with mud and filth, to cry out continually and dolefully as if he had been in agony and want; and he played his part so naturally that several charitable folks were touched by his misery and gave him alms. From his dunghill he saw numbers of carriages pass and repass, and he began to be afraid that his prey would escape him. He consequently resolved to approach nearer to the gates of the palace, where his intolerable groans so harassed the Swiss guards of Monsieur that they threatened to drive him away, but upon his promise to be more quiet they permitted him to remain. He continued patiently at his post for three days and three nights without seeing anything to justify the suspicions of the Cardinal, and I was careful to visit him at intervals in order to receive his report; but when I found that so much time had been lost, I began to think that the Fleming would not, in all probability, enter the palace by the gate facing the Carmelite Convent, and Rochefort agreeing with me on this point, he resolved to change his station. The very same night he saw him arrive, and let himself in with a key that he carried about him; and an hour afterwards he observed another man stop at the same door, and enter by the same means. He was wrapped in a cloak so that the Count could not recognize him; but he desired my valet, who was not far off at the time, to follow him when he came out, by which means we ascertained that the individual who was thus tracked to his own residence was the Grand Equerry of France, M. de Cinq-Mars; while before the end of another week we discovered Radbod in the same manner." [236]

Were not this incident recorded by one of the actors in the adventure, it would have been impossible to have related it with any faith in its veracity; as, assuredly, never was the meaning of "secret service" defined more broadly or more unblushingly than in the instance of the sycophantic courtier who divested himself of his brilliant attire to don the tatters of a beggar, and exchanged his velvet-covered couch for the manure-heap of a city street; while as little would it be credited that any man in power would venture to suggest so revolting an expedient to an individual of high birth and position, the companion of princes, and the associate of Court ladies. Nor is it the least singular feature of the tale that the chronicler by whom it is told indulges in no expression of disgust, either at the indelicate selfishness of Richelieu, or the undignified complaisance of his adherent; although he evidently seeks to infer that the Cardinal did not venture to request so monstrous a concession from himself; and dwells with such palpable enjoyment upon all the details of Rochefort's overweening condescension, that it is easy to detect his dread of being suspected by his readers of an equal amount of disgraceful self-abnegation.

The arrest and subsequent execution of the ill-fated Cinq-Mars and his friend M. de Thou, together with the cowardly policy of Monsieur, who no sooner found his treason discovered than he once more wrote to demand his pardon from the King, and to renew his promises of future loyalty and devotion,[237] are circumstances of such universal notoriety that we shall not permit ourselves to enlarge upon them. It must suffice, therefore, to say that this new peril had merely served to increase alike the bodily suffering and the irascibility of Richelieu, who, even on the very brink of the grave, was indulging in schemes of vengeance. He saw on all sides only enemies armed against his life; and by a supreme effort, to which a less vigorous intellect than his own must have proved unequal, he rallied all the failing energies of nature to pay back the universal debt of hatred which he was conscious that he had incurred.

Such was the temper of his mind while the unfortunate Queen-mother was yet dreaming of a reconciliation with her son, and an old age of honour in her adopted country, through the agency of Rubens; but her still sanguine spirit had betrayed her into forgetting the fact that the dying tiger tears and rends its victim the most pitilessly in its death-agony; and this was the case with the rapidly sinking minister, who was no sooner apprised of the arrival of the painter-prince in the capital than he despatched a letter to Philip of Spain to urge him to demand the presence of Rubens on the instant at Madrid, and to detain him in that city until he should hear further from himself. The request of so dangerous an adversary as Richelieu was a command to Philip, who hastened to invite the illustrious Fleming to his Court with all speed, upon an affair of the most pressing nature; and when Rubens would have lingered in order to fulfil a mission which he considered as sacred, he was met by the declaration that Louis desired to defer the audience which he had already conceded until after the return of the Maestro from the Spanish capital. With a heavy heart Rubens accordingly left Paris, aware that this temporary banishment was the work of the vindictive Cardinal, who was thus depriving his unhappy benefactress of the last friend on earth who had the courage to defend her cause; but as he drove through the city gates he was far from anticipating that his freedom of action was to be trammelled for an indefinite period, and that he was in fact about to become the temporary prisoner of Philip IV.

Nor was the persevering cruelty of Richelieu yet satiated; he knew by his emissaries that the end of Marie de Medicis was rapidly approaching, but he was also aware that through the generous sympathy of Charles of England and the King of Spain she was still in the receipt of a sufficient income to ensure her comparative comfort; and even this was too much for him to concede to the mistress whom he had betrayed; thus, only a few months elapsed ere the pensions hitherto accorded to the persecuted Princess were withheld by both monarchs[238]; who, in their terror of the formidable Cardinal, suffered themselves to overlook their duty and their loyalty to a woman and a Queen, and their affection towards the mother of their respective consorts.

Overwhelmed by this new misfortune, Marie de Medicis found herself reduced to the greatest extremity. Unable to liquidate the salaries of those members of her household who had accompanied her into exile, she was abandoned by many among them; while the few jewels which she had hitherto retained were gradually disposed of in order to support those who still clung with fidelity to her fallen fortunes; but even this resource at length failed; and during the winter months, unable any longer to purchase fuel, she was compelled to permit her attendants to break up all such articles of furniture as could be made available for that purpose.[239]

This extreme of wretchedness, however, which would have sufficed to exhaust the most robust health and the most vigorous youth, was rapidly sapping the toil-worn and tortured existence of Marie de Medicis; and, aware that she had nearly reached the term of her sufferings, on the 2nd of July 1642 she executed a will which is still preserved in the royal library of Paris,[240] wherein she expressed her confidence that Louis XIII would cause the mortuary ceremonies consequent upon her decease to be solemnized in a manner befitting her dignity as Queen of France; and bequeathed certain legacies to her servants, and to the several charitable institutions of Cologne. This duty performed, she consented at the entreaty of her attendants to undergo a painful operation, and to submit to such remedies as were likely to prove most efficient, although she herself expressed a conviction of their utter uselessness. She then received the last sacraments of the church; tenderly embraced those who stood about her; and after a violent accession of fever, expired at mid-day on the morrow, with the breath of prayer upon her lips.[241] Once or twice, blent with the pious outpourings of her departing spirit, her attendants had distinguished the name of her son—of that son by whom she had been abandoned to penury; and on each occasion a shade of pain passed across her wasted features. Her maternal love did not yield even to bodily agony; but the struggle was brief. Her eyes closed, her breath suddenly failed: and all was over.

Thus perished, in a squalid chamber, between four bare walls—her utter destitution having, as we have already stated, driven her to the frightful alternative of denuding the very apartment which was destined to witness her death-agony of every combustible article that it contained, in order by such means to prepare the scanty meal that she could still command—and on a wretched bed which one of her own lackeys would, in her period of power, have disdained to occupy; childless, or worse than childless; homeless, hopeless, and heart-wrung, the haughty daughter of the Medici—the brilliant Regent of France; the patroness of art; the dispenser of honours; and the mother of a long line of princes.

Surely history presents but few such catastrophes as this. The soul sickens as it traces to its close the career of this unhappy and persecuted Princess. Whatever were her faults, they were indeed bitterly expiated. As a wife she was outraged and neglected; as a Queen she was subjected to the insults of the arrogant favourites of a dissolute Court; as a Regent she was trammelled and betrayed; the whole of her public life was one long chain of disappointment, heart-burning, and unrest; while as a woman, she was fated to endure such misery as can fall to the lot of few in this world.

The remains of the ill-fated Marie de Medicis were, in a few hours after her decease, transported to the Cathedral of Cologne, where they lay in state an entire week, during which period Rosetti, the Papal Nuncio, whose dread of Richelieu had caused him to absent himself from the dying bed, as he had previously done from the wretched home, of the persecuted Princess, each day performed a funeral service for the repose of her soul. Her heart was, by her express desire, conveyed to the Convent of La Fleche; while her body was ultimately transported to France and deposited in the royal vaults of St. Denis.

The widow of Henri IV had at last found peace in the bosom of her God; and she had been so long an exile from her adopted country that the circumstances of her death were matter rather of curiosity than of regret throughout the kingdom.

The King was apprised of her demise as he was returning from Tarascon, where he had been visiting the Cardinal, who was then labouring under the severe indisposition which, five months subsequently, terminated in his own dissolution. For the space of four days Louis XIII abandoned himself to the most violent grief, but at the expiration of that period he suffered himself to be consoled; while Richelieu, who, even when persecuting the Queen-mother to the death, had always asserted his reverence for, and gratitude towards, his benefactress, caused a magnificent service to be performed in her behalf in the collegiate church.

Tardy were the lamentations, and tardy the orisons, which reached not the dull ear of the dead in the gloomy depths of the regal Abbey.

FOOTNOTES:

[225] MSS. de Colbert, Bibliotheque du Roi.

[226] Le Vassor, vol. ix. pp. 121-125. Le Clerc, vol. ii. pp. 352-357, Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 500, 501.

[227] Hume, vol. v. p. 25.

[228] Rushworth, vol. v. p. 267.

[229] Le Vassor, vol. x. pp. 591, 592. Sismondi, vol. xxiii. pp. 457, 458. Le Clerc, vol. ii. pp. 495, 496. Rambure, MS. Mem. vol. xix. p. 518.

[230] In 1634, after the demise of the Marquis d'Ayetona, Philip of Spain conferred upon his brother Ferdinand, Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo, the appointment of Governor-General of the Netherlands, which he held until his death, which took place at Brussels on the 9th of November 1641, when he was succeeded by Don Francisco de Mello, a nobleman who had rendered himself conspicuous by defeating the Marechal de Guiche at Hannecourt. Subsequently, however, De Mello tarnished his military reputation at the famous battle of Rocroy, where he was utterly worsted by the young Duc d'Enghien, who had only just attained his twenty-first year, and who was afterwards known as the Great Conde.

[231] Mezeray, vol. xi. p. 540.

[232] Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 541, 542. Le Clerc, vol. ii. pp. 496-519. Aubery, vol. ii. p. 736. Siri, Mem. Rec. vol. ii. p. 15.

[233] Claude de Rouvroy, Sieur de Saint-Simon, was the descendant of a family of Vermandois in Picardy. His relative Isaac de Rouvroy resigned in his favour (in 1635) the paternal estate, which, when he became the favourite of Louis XIII, that monarch erected into a duchy in his favour.

[234] Henri Coiffier Ruze-d'Effiat, Marquis de Cinq-Mars, was the second son of Antoine Coiffier, Marquis d'Effiat, Marechal de France.

[235] Siri, Mem. Rec. vol. ii. p. 571.

[236] Rambure, Unpublished MS. vol. xx. pp. 6-13.

[237] Montresor, Mem. p. 162. Le Clerc, vol. ii. pp. 543-562. Mezeray, vol. xi. pp. 544-552. Capefigue, vol. ii. pp. 99-125.

[238] Sismondi, vol. xxiii. p. 510.

[239] Dreux du Radier, vol. v. pp. 258, 259.

[240] MS. Dupuy, vol. 590.

[241] Le Vassor, vol. x. book 1. p. 589. Capefigue, vol. vi. pp. 121, 122. Sismondi, vol. xxiii. pp. 509, 510. Le Clerc, vol. ii. p. 558. Mezeray, vol. xi. p. 542.

END OF VOLUME III