“At five o’clock in the afternoon,” says Bassompierre, “they removed the body of the late King from the palace to carry it to the tomb of his fathers in the Escurial. I went to see it pass over the Puente Segoviana, with nearly all the grandees and ladies of Madrid. In my opinion, it was a rather sorry funeral procession for so great a King. First came a hundred or a hundred and twenty Hieronymite monks, wearing their surplices and mounted on fine mules. They rode two and two, following their leader, who carried the Cross. Then came thirty Guards, led by the Marquises de Povar and de Falsas; and following them the King’s Household, the mayor-domos last, with the Duke del Infantado, mayor-domo mayor, preceding the body of the King, which was borne on a litter drawn by two mules, which were covered, as was the litter, with cloth-of-gold. The Gentlemen of the Chamber walked behind the litter, and twenty archers of the Burgundian Guard brought up the rear. They halted for the night at Pinto, and rather early on the morrow arrived at the Escurial, where the funeral service was celebrated, after which the company returned to Madrid.”

Bassompierre’s “father,” the Duke of Ossuña, was one of the grandees who witnessed the procession from the Puente Segoviana; and he ascribes to some injudicious remarks made by the duke on this occasion to two gentlemen of his suite the fact that he was shortly afterwards arrested and imprisoned:—

“The Duke of Ossuña was on the bridge to see the body of the King pass by, and happening to stop opposite a carriage which contained some of the gentlemen who had accompanied me to France, he inquired if they knew when I was to have audience of the new King. M. de Rothelin and the Marquis de Bussy d’Amboise[154] answered that I had been informed that it would be on the following Sunday. ‘I am rejoiced to hear that,’ said he, ‘for I am promised the next audience, in which I propose to say to the King that there are now three great princes who govern the world, of whom one is aged sixteen, another seventeen, and the third eighteen; that they are himself, the Grand Turk, and the King of France; that whichever of the three will have the longest sword will be the bravest; and that one must be my master.’ These words were reported by a person in his coach, who had been charged to spy upon his discourse and actions, and, together with his previous conduct, were the cause of his being thrown into prison, where he ended his days.”

CHAPTER XXIII

Bassompierre’s audience of the new King, Philip IV—The Procession of the Crosses—An old flame—Good Friday at Madrid—Anxiety of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting to see Bassompierre—His visit to them—He is commissioned by Louis XIII to present his condolences to Philip IV—He is informed that etiquette requires him to leave Madrid as though to return to France and then to make another formal entry—Revolution of the palace at Madrid: fall of the late King’s Ministers—The Count of Saldagna ordered by Philip IV to marry Doña Mariana de Cordoba, on pain of his severe displeasure—Bassompierre offers to facilitate the escape of Saldagna to France, but the latter’s courage fails him at the last moment—Negotiations over the Valtellina—Treaty of Madrid—Bassompierre’s pretended departure for France—He visits the Escurial, returns to Madrid and makes a second ceremonious entry—The audience of condolence—State entry of Philip IV into Madrid—Termination of Bassompierre’s embassy—He returns to France.

On Palm Sunday, April 4, Bassompierre had an audience of the new King at the Convent of San Geronimo.

“Twenty carriages were brought,” says he, “in which the Ambassador [Du Fargis] and I and the whole of our respective suites placed ourselves. We were conducted only by the Count of Barajas, because it was not a solemn audience, but a private one, at San Geronimo, to which the King had retired, and he was only admitting me as a favour in order to pay honour to the King [of France] his brother-in-law, and to show the promptitude with which he desired to conclude the affair upon which I had come. We all wore mourning according to the Spanish fashion, with the loba, the caperuza and capirote,[155] which I did for two reasons: first, because, since all the grandees present at the audience, and the King himself, were wearing it, I should have been uncovered, while they were not, which would not have been seemly on my part; secondly, because the sight of me wearing deep mourning for the death of their late King was very agreeable to the Spaniards, who would not have felt thus had I been dressed in our fashion. I made my obeisance to the King and offered him the pesame, which is the compliment of condolence upon the death of the King his father, after which we offered him the parabien, which is the compliment of felicitation upon his happy accession to the Crowns.[156] This we did also in the name of the King [of France], while awaiting the despatch by him of some prince or great noble expressly to pay this compliment. I then spoke to the King about our affairs, to all of which things he answered very pertinently; and, after having paid my respects to the prince,[157] who was with him, I retired.”

On the Wednesday in Holy Week, Bassompierre and Du Fargis witnessed the Procession of the Crosses from the balcony of a house in the Calle Mayor, which had been reserved for them:

“There were,” says Bassompierre, “more than five hundred penitents, who walked barefooted, drawing large crosses, like that of Our Lord, and, at intervals, were movable theatres, on which divers representations of the Passion were exhibited in a very lifelike manner.”

Bassompierre pronounces this spectacle “très belle”; nevertheless, he soon appears to have had enough of it, and on being joined by the Ambassador of Lucca and two Spanish nobles, he rose, protesting that he could not remain seated and leave three such distinguished persons standing—for there were only two chairs on the balcony—but would resign his seat to one of them, leave M. du Fargis to represent France, and go and beg of a party of ladies whom he perceived below the favour of occupying one of their footstools. This he did, and the ladies were most kind and did him the honour to allow him to sit at their feet, and, we fear, paid more attention to his Excellency than to the procession. Nor was this all; for Fortune willed it that he should discover amongst them a flame of the days of his youth, a certain Doña Aña de Sanasara, whom he had known twenty-five years before at Naples, and who was now the wife of the Secretary of the Council of Finance. “They recognised each other with joy,” and Doña Aña, who was very rich, sent her old admirer handsome presents and invited him to her house, where she entertained him most sumptuously.

On the following day—Maundy Thursday—Bassompierre witnessed another procession, that of the Penitents, “in which there were more than two thousand men who belaboured themselves with whips.” Afterwards he went to hear the Tenebræ at Nuestra Señora de Constantinopoli and spent the night in visiting different churches.

On Maundy Thursday and Good Friday Madrid was a city of mourning:

“The bells of the churches were silent; the carriages ceased to pass through the town; no one rode on horseback; no one carried a sword; no one was accompanied by his servants; and all the women were veiled.”

On Easter Monday, Bassompierre went to pay his respects to the new Queen at the Carmelite convent, where she was still in retreat. Her Majesty told him that all her ladies-in-waiting were longing to make his acquaintance—evidently, the fame of his successes amongst the fair had preceded him to Madrid—and that he ought to have compassion upon them and demand lugar[158] of every one of them. Bassompierre replied that, if he were to do that, it would occupy more time than he would require to conclude the affair of the Valtellina, and asked, as a favour, that he might be allowed to interview the whole posse of them at the same time, promising to do his best not to confound one lady with another. The Queen said that such a proceeding would not be in accordance with etiquette; but Bassompierre observed that whenever their Majesties granted favours they authorised some breach of etiquette, and that he did not see why they could not do so in this case. The Queen smiled and said that she would be quite willing, but that she dared not take so important a step without first consulting the King. However, she would speak to his Majesty, and inform him of the result.

A few days later, Bassompierre was informed that the King had been graciously pleased to consent that the rules of etiquette should be waived in his Excellency’s favour, for which his Excellency “rendered very humble thanks to the King.” Then he wrote to demand audience of all the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, and, this having been accorded, proceeded to the Alcazar and was conducted to her Majesty’s ante-chamber, where he was presently joined by a bevy of fair and intensely curious ladies, in charge of a duenna, all eager to behold this redoubtable vainqueur de dames. And when they found that, in addition to his good looks and fascinating manners, he was able to pay them the most charming compliments in irreproachable Castilian, their delight knew no bounds, and it was more than two hours before they would allow him to depart.

 

On April 16, Bassompierre received a despatch from Louis XIII commissioning him to present his condolences to the new King on the death of his father. When, however, he informed Zuniga of this and inquired when Philip IV could give him audience to enable him to acquit himself of his new duty, that old gentleman shook his head and declared that it was quite contrary to the etiquette of the Spanish Court for an Ambassador Extraordinary charged with the duty of concluding a treaty to represent his sovereign in a different matter, unless he were to absent himself from the capital for some days and then make a second public entry. He therefore advised his Excellency to say nothing about the matter at present, but, on the conclusion of the treaty which he was then negotiating, to take leave of the King as though he were returning to France, and to go so far as Burgos on his homeward journey. From that town he would send a courier to Madrid to announce that, having on the way received a new commission from his sovereign, he was returning to discharge it; and, on his arrival, he would, of course, be received with the same ceremony as on the previous occasion.

Bassompierre, though greatly annoyed at these exasperating formalities, which would not only delay his return to France, but involve him in a great deal of unnecessary expense and inconvenience, had no alternative but to promise compliance. He succeeded, however, in obtaining the concession that his fictitious departure for France need not be preceded by fictitious farewells of anyone besides the King and the Royal family, and that, so long as he left the capital with his whole suite and remained away for two or three days, the Escorial might be the limit of his journey.

The death of Philip III was followed by a revolution of the palace almost as sweeping as that which had succeeded the assassination of Concini in France. The new King’s favourite, Olivares, who, with his uncle Don Balthazar de Zuniga, now assumed the direction of affairs, bore a bitter grudge against the Sandoval family, who, on more than one occasion, had endeavoured to get rid of him by assassination, and he proceeded to take vengeance both upon them and their creatures. The Duke of Uceda was arrested and thrown into prison, where, like the Duke of Ossuña, he ended his days. His father, the Duke of Lerma, who, in obedience to the dying summons of Philip III, was hastening to Madrid, was met on the road by an officer of the Guards and informed that he was to return to Valladolid, on pain of immediate arrest; while, shortly afterwards, the greater part of his ill-gotten wealth

Image unavailable: PHILIP IV., KING OF SPAIN. From the painting by Velasquez.
PHILIP IV., KING OF SPAIN.
From the painting by Velasquez.

was confiscated, under a clause in the late King’s will by which he revoked the immense gifts he had made during his lifetime. The confessor Alliaga was deprived of his post of Grand Inquisitor and relegated to the obscurity of the monastery from which he had emerged; and several other highly-placed personages lost their charges and were banished from Court.

The Count of Saldagna,[159] Lerma’s younger son, thanks to his having had the good fortune to marry a daughter of the old Duke del Infantado,[160] who was held in general esteem, was more leniently dealt with than his father and elder brother, and was merely deprived of his office of cavalerizzo mayor (Grand Equerry) and ordered to go and fight the Dutch in the Netherlands. But, a day or two later, “one of the Queen’s maids-of-honour, Doña Mariana de Cordoba, presented to the King a promise of marriage which the Count of Saldagna had given her,[161] and the King commanded the said count to prepare to accomplish it.”

The royal command appears to have been accompanied by an intimation that, in the event of the count’s refusal to do the lady justice, most unpleasant things would happen to him. Anyway, Saldagna appears to have been greatly alarmed, and promised the King to lead Doña Mariana to the altar “on the first day after the octave of Easter” (April 21).

Now, when Bassompierre was setting out for Spain, Anne of Austria, who was much attached to the Sandoval family, “had pressingly recommended to him all that concerned the Duke of Lerma”; and, aware of this, Saldagna’s aunt the Countess of Lemos[162] and other relatives and friends of his, who were in despair at the prospect of his contracting a mésalliance, to which, in their opinion, death itself would almost be preferable, went to the ambassador and besought him, with tears in their eyes, “to aid in preventing this marriage by every means he was able to devise.” The recollection of his own troubles with Marie d’Entragues naturally inclined Bassompierre to view Saldagna’s with a sympathetic eye, and, apart from this, he had a decided weakness for meddling in other people’s affairs in a benevolent kind of way. He knew, too, that, by helping the Sandovals, he would establish a claim upon the gratitude of Anne of Austria, who, though she had little or no influence at present, might one day possess a great deal. He accordingly promised them to do what he could to deliver their relative from the sad fate which threatened him, and proceeded to San Geronimo—where Saldagna had gone into retreat on the plea of illness, to escape the remonstrances of his friends and the mocking felicitations of his enemies—with the resolution to screw that nobleman’s courage up to what Shakespeare calls the sticking-place, and then to propose to smuggle him out of Spain, disguised as one of his servants.

“After we had exchanged compliments,” he says, “I told him that I knew not whether to give him the parabien or the pesame on his approaching marriage,[163] since, although it might be a great satisfaction for him, nevertheless a gallant of the Court, such as he was, could not without sorrow abandon the pleasant existence he had led up to the present to accept a lonely life, full of anxiety and care, as was marriage.

“He answered that he must perforce obey the master, who commanded him to execute what he had promised the mistress; and that, although it was a hard condition which he was placing on his shoulders, it was an ill for which there was no remedy.

“It appeared to me, from his discourse, that the pack-saddle galled him, and that he would be very willing to find some alleviation. And this encouraged me to tell him that there were more remedies than he thought of, if he desired to be cured, and that the express command which I had received from the Infanta-Queen to assist in every way I could the duke-cardinal his father, as her own person, obliged me, when I perceived the palpable displeasure with which he and all his family regarded this forced marriage, to offer him, on this occasion, my aid and assistance to extricate him from it, if he so desired.

“ ‘And what aid and assistance can you bring me,’ said he, ‘when neither I myself nor my relatives are capable of doing anything?’

“Then I told him that, if he were willing to believe me and to trust himself to me, I would extricate him from this difficulty with honour and glory; that the Duke of Alba, grandfather of the present duke,[164] had preferred to commit the crime of rebellion, in delivering his son Fadrigue de Toledo,[165] in the midst of peace, by the use of petards, from a château in which he had been shut up in order to force him to espouse a maid-of-honour, than to allow him to espouse a very wealthy girl, of a family equal to his own; and that I myself had been at law for eight years with a powerful family, who had threatened me with certain death if I did not espouse a maid-of-honour of the Queen [of France] by whom I had had a child, and to whom I had given a promise of marriage to serve her as a blind; that, in case his honour and that of his House was dear to him, as I believed it to be, he ought without regret to quit for a time the Court of Spain, in which he was out of favour, since he had been deprived of the charge of cavalerizzo mayor, while his relatives and friends were disgraced and persecuted; that the remedy I offered him was to leave the town at nightfall by post, and go to await me at Bayonne, where I would join him at a month at furthest; that the Comte de Gramont would entertain him there in the meantime in such fashion that his stay would not be disagreeable; that, in case he had not the money at hand to take him there, I would furnish him with 1,000 pistoles to defray his expenses until my arrival; that I would answer that, when he reached the Court, the Queen would give him—until, by her intervention, his peace was made here—1,000 crowns a month, and that, if she did not, I would do so out of my own purse and give him the word of a caballero for it.

“He assured me that he was deeply grateful both to the Queen and to myself, and then said: ‘But what means have I of leaving Spain without being stopped? And, if I were stopped, they would undoubtedly have my head struck off.’

“I answered that I never proposed impossible things to those whom I desired to serve, and that I would be responsible for his departure, his journey and his safety; that I had been given a passport for a gentleman whom I was sending that same day to the King, and that he was travelling with two attendants; that he would serve him on the road as valet, although this gentleman ought to be his; that he would not take his departure until an hour of the night when he [Saldagna] might come to me unperceived, and that he might leave the other arrangements to me.

“He told me that he was resolved to do as I proposed, and would be all his life under a profound obligation to me; that he wished to speak first to two of his friends; and that he begged me to have everything in readiness at the hour I had named.”

Not a little elated with his success, Bassompierre left him and returned to Madrid to finish the despatch which Saldagna’s supposed master was to carry that night to France. This task accomplished, he placed the thousand pistoles he had promised the count in two purses, summoned his equerry Le Manny, whom he had decided to send, told him of the distinguished personage who was to accompany him and gave him his instructions what to do in the event of their being stopped, though of that there was little or no danger, as he would indeed be a bold man who, without authorisation, would venture to detain the couriers of an Ambassador Extraordinary.

The fateful hour arrived, but no Saldagna. Instead, there came a message from that nobleman informing Bassompierre that, to his profound regret, he found himself unable to carry out what they had decided upon together, “for reasons which he would tell him when he had the happiness of seeing him.”

“I know not,” says Bassompierre, “whether the friends to whom he had spoken had dissuaded him, if he lacked the resolution to undertake it, or if the love which he bore this girl had decided him to espouse her.”

Anyway, espouse her he did on the day which he had promised the King. The marriage took place in the church of the Carmelite convent, where the Queen was still in retreat. The King led the bridegroom, and the Queen the bride, to the nuptial Mass, and then brought them with the same ceremony to the door of her Majesty’s ante-chamber. Here certain officers of the Court appeared upon the scene, took charge of bride and bridegroom, conducted them, “without even giving them time to dine,” to the gates of the town, where a travelling-carriage was in waiting, told them to step in and informed them that they were banished from Madrid.

Meantime, the negotiations on the Valtellina question, which had been interrupted by the death of Philip III, had been resumed. At first, the Spaniards suggested that if France would guarantee the protection of religion in the Valtellina, refuse to Venice the right of passage for her troops, and compensate Spain for the expense to which she had been put in occupying the country, she would withdraw. Bassompierre promptly declined. They then offered to waive the question of compensation, in return for the right of transit for Spanish troops, the very privilege which they had just endeavoured to deny to France’s old ally Venice. This proposition, as may be supposed, was likewise declined. It was impossible for the Spanish commissioners to persist in such demands, as the influence of Gregory XV, greatly alarmed by visions of Spain’s supremacy throughout Italy, had been thrown into the French scale. And so Zuniga proposed that the Grisons should receive compensation for the Valtellina, and the district be ceded to the Pope. Bassompierre curtly replied that he had been sent to Madrid to recover, not to sell, the Valtellina. Zuniga and his colleagues brought forward other schemes: that the Valtellina should be erected into a fourth League; that it should be constituted into a fourteenth canton of the Swiss Confederation, and so forth. But, finding that Bassompierre stood firmly by his instructions, they at length gave way, and on April 26, 1621, the Treaty of Madrid was signed.

This treaty stipulated that Spain should withdraw her troops from the Valtellina; that the Grisons should grant a general amnesty to the Valtellinas; that “the novelties prejudicial to the Catholic religion should be removed,” and that the Grisons should ratify the treaty, which was to be guaranteed by the King of France and the Swiss Cantons.

The Cabinet of Madrid hoped that, in the interval between the conclusion and the execution of the treaty, some incident might arise which would furnish them with a pretext for not keeping their word; and in this, as we shall see, they were not disappointed.

On April 28, Bassompierre, having taken leave of Philip IV, left Madrid, accompanied by his whole suite, as though he were returning to France. He spent the night at Torreladones, and on the following morning reached the Escorial, “where he saw everything in this wonderful building and all the rare things which it contained.” Early on the 30th, he left the Escorial and proceeded to El Pardo, a pleasure-house belonging to the King, where he dined, and then went on to Alcovendas. Here he passed the night, and on May 1, dressed in deep mourning, as became one who had been charged with an embassy of condolence, made his second ceremonious entry into Madrid.

On the 4th, he had an audience of the King to offer the pesame, and appeared, according to his own account, before the bereaved monarch “with a countenance which, apart from the absence of tears, presented every indication of grief and sadness.”[166] Afterwards, by Philip IV’s invitation, he accompanied him to the funeral service in honour of the late King at San Geronimo.

On the following day Bassompierre began to pay his farewell visits to the grandees and other important persons whose acquaintance he had made at Madrid, a task which was to occupy him several days, as there were so many to visit and so many formalities to be observed. His adieux were interrupted on May 9 by Philip IV’s solemn entry into Madrid, which he witnessed from a balcony at the Puerta Guadalaxara, which the King had ordered to be prepared for him:

“The King,” he says, “set out from San Geronimo and came to his palace by way of the Calle Mayor. Before him marched the kettle-drummers; then came the gentlemen of the King’s table; then, the titulados;[167] after them the mace-bearers; then the four mayor-domos; then the grandees; and then the Duke del Infantado, cavalerizzo mayor, bareheaded, and carrying a drawn sword. He preceded the King, who followed under a canopy, supported on thirty-two poles, which were borne by the thirty-two regidores of Madrid,[168] habited in cloth of silver and crimson. Then came the corregidor,[169] surrounded by the King’s equerries, and the Counsellors of State and Gentlemen of the Chamber closed the procession.”

In a despatch to Louis XIII, dated the following day, Bassompierre describes the entry as “very magnificent for Madrid, but not equal to the least of those which take place in France.”

On the 12th, Bassompierre had his farewell audience of the King, who gave him a letter in his own hand for Louis XIII and another for Anne of Austria. He then took leave of Don Carlos, and, on leaving the Alcazar, went to bid adieu to Olivares and Zuniga.

In the afternoon “the executors of the late King’s will placed in his hands a great reliquary, which must have been worth 500,000 crowns,” and charged him to present it to the Queen of France, to whom Philip IV had bequeathed it.

On the 15th—the day he was to leave Madrid—Don Juan de Serica came to present him, on behalf of Philip III, with “an ensign of diamonds worth 6,000 crowns.”[170] The Countess of Barajas sent him “a very beautiful present of perfumes,” and he begged the countess’s acceptance of a diamond chain worth 1,500 crowns. Shortly before his departure, he received another gift from the King, in the shape of a very fine horse from his Majesty’s stud.

In the afternoon he left Madrid, “the King ordering him to be escorted on his departure in the same fashion as when he had made his entry,” and was accompanied so far as Alcovendas, where he was to pass the night, by Du Fargis, the Prince of Eboli and a number of Spanish nobles. His journey to the frontier was uneventful, and on May 24 he reached Bayonne.

CHAPTER XXIV

A new War of Religion breaks out in France—Luynes created Constable—Louis XIII and Duplessis-Mornay—Bassompierre joins the Royal army before Saint-Jean d’Angély—Capitulation of the town—Bassompierre returns with Créquy to Paris—He is “in great consideration” amongst the ladies—Apparent anxiety of Luynes for the marriage of his niece to Bassompierre—The King and the Constable resolve to lay siege to Montauban—Bassompierre decides to rejoin the army without waiting for orders from the latter—He arrives at the King’s quarters at the Château of Picqueos—Dispositions of the besieging army—Narrow escape of Bassompierre while reconnoitring the advanced-works of the town—A gallant Swiss—Death of the Comte de Fiesque—Heavy casualties amongst the besiegers—The Seigneur de Tréville—Bassompierre and the women of Montauban—Death of Mayenne—The Spanish monk—An amateur general—Disastrous results of carrying out his orders—Furious sortie of the garrison—Bassompierre is wounded in the face—An amusing incident—The Cévennes mountaineers endeavour to throw reinforcements into Montauban—A midnight mêlée.

Bassompierre would probably have found the Spaniards more difficult to deal with, had it not been that they were anxious to free Louis XIII, for the moment, from foreign embarrassments in order that he might commit himself fully to a war with his Protestant subjects, which could not fail to weaken France and render it unlikely that she would be willing to engage in hostilities beyond her borders.

The drastic measures adopted by Louis XIII towards the Protestants of Béarn had aroused bitter resentment amongst their co-religionists throughout France; and towards the end of December, 1620, a general assembly of the party was held at La Rochelle to decide upon the policy to be adopted in view of this menace to their faith. Of the great Huguenot chiefs, Bouillon, Sully, and Lesdiguières did not respond to the summons or send anyone to represent them; but La Force, Châtillon, La Trémoille and Rohan sent delegates.

The Assembly authorised the raising of troops and a general levy on the funds of the party; and then proceeded to divide France into eight departments—veritable military districts on the model of the German “circles”—each being placed under the command of a general-in-chief. Although these measures were intended to be purely defensive, nothing more calculated to provoke hostilities could have been devised; the Protestants were at once accused by the Government of having established a republic within the State, and in April a new War of Religion began.

It differed from the old wars, however, inasmuch as neither the chiefs nor the rank and file of the Huguenots were unanimous in supporting it. Lesdiguières, who had been won over by the Court, deserted the common cause, as did most of the Protestant nobles; Rohan, his younger brother Soubise and La Force alone remained faithful. Outside the nobility, the same division of opinion manifested itself; the great majority of the warlike Calvinists of the South took up arms; but the rest of Protestant France did not move.

At the moment of entering upon the campaign against the Protestants, Luynes demanded the sword of Constable of France, which Louis XIII bestowed upon him with the utmost pomp, although he had already promised it to Lesdiguières, on condition that he should abjure the Protestant faith, which the marshal had engaged to do. That the sword which had been borne by such warriors as Du Guesclin, Clisson, Buchan, Saint-Pol, the Duc de Bourbon, and Anne de Montmorency should be conferred upon the hero of an assassination, who could not drill a company of infantry, aroused universal astonishment and disgust; and Luynes’s exchange of the rôle of statesman for that of general was, as one might anticipate, attended with disastrous results for the forces under his command.

However, the campaign opened auspiciously enough. The King and Luynes advanced to Saumur, of which the latter succeeded in getting possession by a characteristic act of bad faith. The Governor of Saumur was that grand old veteran Du Plessis-Mornay, the companion-in-arms and counsellor of Henri IV. Mornay had refused to support a rebellion which, in his eyes, was unjustified, and when Luynes assured him that the King had no intention of depriving him of a post which had been conferred upon him by his father more than thirty years before, he opened the gates of town and château to the royal troops. No sooner were they in possession, than he was informed that prudence would not permit the King to leave a Huguenot in charge of so important a link in his communications. He was offered a bribe of money, and even a marshal’s bâton, in return for the resignation of his government, which he indignantly refused, but accepted the royal promise that in three months’ time he should be reinstated. On various pretexts, however, Louis XIII succeeded in evading this engagement until Mornay’s death, two years later.

At the end of May, the Royal army laid siege to Saint-Jean-d’Angély, called the “bulwark of La Rochelle,” to the possession of which great importance was attached; and it was here that Bassompierre, who, after remaining a day at Bayonne, had hastened northwards, joined it. The town, which was defended by Soubise, held out for nearly a month, and at times there was some pretty sharp fighting in the faubourgs, in which Bassompierre appears to have distinguished himself. But on June 23 it capitulated, and d’Épernon and Bassompierre marched in with the French and Swiss Guards.

On the 26th, Bassompierre accompanied the King to Cognac, from which town he was despatched to Paris, to ratify with the Chancellor and the Spanish Ambassador Mirabello the treaty which he had made at Madrid. He was accompanied by Créquy, who had received a musket-ball through the cheek at the siege of Saint-Jean-d’Angély, and to whom Luynes had suggested the advisability of a short sojourn in the capital for the benefit of his health. About the same time, another brigadier-general, Saint-Luc, was appointed lieutenant-general of the western seaboard of France, and sent by Luynes to Brouage, “to make the King powerful at sea.” The reason, however, why the new Constable felt able to dispense simultaneously with the services of three of the most distinguished officers in the army was not made apparent until some weeks later, as, on taking leave of him, each was assured that he would be recalled so soon as any important operations were contemplated.

Bassompierre’s reception by his friends of both sexes in Paris left nothing to be desired:

“It is impossible to say,” he writes, “how I passed my time during this visit. Everyone entertained us in turn. The ladies congregated or came to the Tuileries. There were few gallants in Paris, and I was in great consideration there, and in love in divers directions. I had brought back from Spain rarities to the value of 20,000 crowns, and these I distributed amongst the ladies, who gave me a most cordial reception.”

Bassompierre had not been long in Paris when he received a visit from his friend Roucelaï, who came on behalf of Luynes to interview him on the question of his marriage with the Constable’s niece, Mlle. de Combalet, which had been proposed to the favourite by Condé and Guise during Bassompierre’s absence in Spain. Luynes was anxious to conciliate these two princes, who had been far from pleased at his assumption of the office of Constable, and, aware that Bassompierre had strengthened his position at Court by the success of his embassy to Madrid and his services at Saint-Jean-d’Angély, he appears to have been anxious to remove all difficulties in the way of the match.

“He had sent Roucelaï,” says Bassompierre, “to ascertain what I desired for my advantage and my fortune, if this marriage were made. For he imagined that I should demand offices of the Crown, dignities and governments, and that it was my intention to be bought. But I answered Roucelaï that the honour of marrying into the family of the Constable was so dear to me, that he would offend me by giving me anything except his niece, and that I demanded nothing beyond that, although afterwards I should not refuse the benefits of which he might deem me worthy when I was his nephew. He [Luynes] was delighted at my frankness, and caused me to be informed that he would place me in the perfect confidence of the King, who had a very strong inclination for me, of which in future he would no longer be jealous, as he had been the previous year.”

All this was no doubt very gratifying, but, at the same time, the Constable, notwithstanding that active operations had long since been resumed, showed no inclination to recall either Bassompierre, Créquy, or Saint-Luc to the army; and presently they learned that he had appointed three other brigadier-generals—creatures of his own—in their places, having persuaded the King that, though they were very capable officers, “they were not persons who would stick to their work or give the necessary attention to it.” The real reason seems to have been the favourite’s fear that “they might eclipse his glory and that of his brothers,” and that they might be disinclined to carry out the orders of one whom they knew to be entirely ignorant of military matters.

Towards the middle of August, Bassompierre learned that the King and Luynes, encouraged by the taking of the little town of Clairac and some minor successes, had resolved to lay siege to Montauban, the great citadel of the Huguenots of the South, and were marching towards that town. About the same time, he received a letter from Marie de’ Medici, who had returned to Tours, informing him that the Constable had demanded of her Marillac, who was in her service,[171] as the only man capable of reducing Montauban, “and had begged her to send him to the King at once,” in order not to delay his Majesty’s conquest by his absence.

Notwithstanding the formal reconciliation, Marie still hated the man who had taken her son from her, and subjected her to so many humiliations, as bitterly as ever; and her object in writing was, of course, to animate Bassompierre against the Constable and put an end to the good understanding at which they now seemed to have arrived. By this means she would, so to speak, kill two birds with one stone, since she had probably not forgiven Bassompierre for the activity which he had displayed in the King’s cause during the last war, which had contributed materially to the defeat of her party. Bassompierre, however, had no intention of quarrelling with his prospective uncle to gratify the Queen-Mother or anyone else. At the same time, he was deeply mortified to learn that a mediocre officer like Marillac, who had nothing to recommend him but his subservience to the favourite, was to be appointed to a high command, while he himself was left unemployed; and he felt that to remain inactive while such important operations were in progress was impossible. He therefore decided to rejoin the army without waiting for orders from the Constable, trusting, by the exercise of a little tact, to succeed in disarming the annoyance which his return might occasion that personage.

The Royal army had encamped before Montauban on August 18. If the town fell, all the South would fall with it; and Luynes, elated by recent successes, believed that victory was assured. The most prudent officers did not share the optimism of the favourite; to them the siege of Montauban seemed a very difficult undertaking. La Force had retired into the place with three of his sons, the Comte d’Orval, younger son of Sully, and a number of Huguenot gentlemen; from 3,000 to 4,000 picked soldiers, supported by more than 2,000 armed citizens, formed a truly formidable garrison; the Duc de Rohan, still master of a great part of the Albigeois and Rouergue, would, they knew, make every effort to revictual the place and harass the siege operations; and he could command the services of the Protestant mountaineers of the Cévennes. Several generals and members of the Council had expressed the opinion that they should begin by clearing Upper Guienne and Upper Languedoc of the rebels, and postpone operations against Montauban until the spring. But the King and Luynes had refused to listen to them.

Bassompierre arrived in the Royal camp on the 21st, just as the trenches were about to be opened, and at once proceeded to the Château of Piquecos, to the north of the town, on the right bank of the Aveyron, where Louis XIII had taken up his quarters. Having excused his return without orders on the ground of his zeal for the service of the King, he hastened to disclaim any desire to serve as brigadier-general and declared that “he should content himself with being in this siege Colonel-General of the Swiss.” Luynes thereupon became quite cordial, and the King told Bassompierre that, when the siege was over, and he and the Constable had returned to Paris, he would give him the command of the army.

Lesdiguières had advised Luynes to employ against Montauban all the resources of the military art, and to enclose the town in lines of circumvallation protected by forts. But the presumptuous Constable was unwilling to waste time in what he was pleased to regard as superfluous precautions; and the siege of this formidable stronghold, defended by several thousand resolute men, prepared to die sword in hand in defence of their religion rather than surrender, and with strong reinforcements under an able general hovering in the background, was embarked upon as lightly as if its reduction had presented no more than ordinary difficulty.

The besieging army was divided into three divisions. One division, composed of the French and Swiss Guards, with the regiments of Piedmont and Normandy, and commanded by the Maréchaux de Praslin and de Chaulnes, under the orders of the Constable, was to assail the advanced works of Montmirat and Saint-Antoine, to the west and north-west of the town, on the right bank of the Tarn, in front of the faubourg of Ville-Nouvelle. The second, of which Mayenne had the command, with the Maréchal de Thémines under him, was to attack Ville-Bourbon, a faubourg situated on the left bank of the Tarn,[172] and connected with the town by an old brick bridge, dating from the early part of the fourteenth century. The third, commanded by Joinville—or the Duc de Chevreuse, as he had now become—who had Lesdiguières and Saint-Géran to assist him, was entrusted with the attack on Le Moustier, a fortified suburb to the south-west of the town. Two bridges which had been thrown across the Tarn maintained communication between the three divisions, to the first of which Bassompierre, as Colonel-General of the Swiss, was attached.

 

On leaving the King, Bassompierre returned to the camp, and he and Praslin crossed the river to visit Mayenne. The Lorraine prince offered to show them the fortifications of Ville-Bourbon, and took them as close to the walls as he could persuade them to go, “with the intention of drawing upon us some musket-shots.” This kind of bravado appears to have been a favourite amusement of Mayenne, but, as we shall presently see, he was to indulge in it once too often.

On their return to the Guards’ camp, they began preparations for opening the trenches, and Bassompierre, accompanied by an Italian engineer named Gamorini, who had been sent to the army by Marie de’ Medici, in whose service he was, went out to reconnoitre the advance-works of the town. They succeeded in getting quite close to them without being observed; but, as they were returning, they lost their way and were suddenly confronted by an advanced guard-house of the enemy. The sentries fired upon them point-blank, and one ball went through Bassompierre’s coat; but both he and Gamorini succeeded in effecting their escape unharmed. They brought back with them some useful information, and that evening the first trench was opened, the work being entrusted to the Regiment of Piedmont.

On the following day, Luynes came to their camp and summoned Bassompierre and the other leaders to a council of war. While this was proceeding, the enemy brought one of their cannon to bear upon the men working on the trench, the first shot blowing a captain of the Regiment of Piedmont to pieces and mortally wounding two other officers, one of whom, a lieutenant named Castiras, was in Bassompierre’s service. The bombardment was followed by a furious sortie, and the Piedmonts were obliged to abandon the unfinished trench and fall back. Bassompierre, leaving the council, hurriedly collected reinforcements, and drove the enemy back into the town; but the Piedmonts had suffered severely.

Work proceeded without interruption during the next three days, and considerable progress was made; but, during the night of August 26-27, the enemy sallied out again, their attack on this occasion being directed against a sunken road, which the Royal troops were fortifying, with the intention of placing a battery there. They were again repulsed, but not before they had succeeded in over-turning the gabions which had been placed there. Some of these they carried off with them, but abandoned between the road and the fortifications, well within musket-shot of the latter.