And on the following day:—

A few days later a single soldier presented himself at Bassompierre’s quarters and asked to speak to him in private. The marshal granted his request, but took the precaution to have him searched first. It was well that he did so, for a loaded pistol was found under the man’s doublet. “I sent him back,” says Bassompierre, “being unwilling to do him any harm.” Which act of forbearance does him great credit, though it is open to question whether the poor, starving wretch would not have much preferred to be hanged.

The following night some of the garrison, rendered desperate by their sufferings, endeavoured to make their way through Bassompierre’s lines and killed one of his sentries. They were all shot down.

Although the money required for the expedition to La Rochelle had been obtained, the preparations for its departure were still far from complete, for the Navy was in a deplorable condition, the ships badly in need of repairs, the men without discipline, the officers without enthusiasm. Towards the middle of August, Charles I went down to Southwick, a country-house near Portsmouth, to supervise personally the fitting out of the fleet, leaving Buckingham, who was to take command of the expedition, in London to hasten the despatch of the supplies that were needed. No man in England believed any more in the duke or his undertakings, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that he could get his officers to carry out his orders. “I find nothing,” he wrote to Conway, “of more difficulty and uncertainty than the preparations for the service of Rochelle. Every man says he has all things ready, and yet all remain as it were at a stand.”

On August 17 Buckingham went down to Portsmouth to consult the King concerning certain proposals to bring about peace between England and France which he had just received from the Venetian Ambassador, Contarini. Both he and Charles had now begun to realise their folly in engaging in a war with France while they had so many troubles at home, and while their hapless allies in Germany and Denmark, to whom they were powerless to render any effective aid, were justly imputing to them their misfortunes. They appear to have thought less of fighting, for they could not disguise from themselves that the difficulty of relieving La Rochelle must by this time be almost insuperable, than of obtaining for the Rochellois, by a great display of force, tolerable terms. Buckingham, however, was never again to see the shores of France, as on the morning of August 23 he was assassinated by Felton.

The duke’s death did not alter the situation, but it, of course, delayed the departure of the fleet, and it was not until more than a fortnight later that it at last sailed, under the command of the Earl of Lindsey, who had succeeded to Buckingham’s office of Lord High Admiral. It was an infinitely more powerful fleet than that which Denbigh had commanded, and consisted of some 120 vessels of various sizes, including fire-ships and vessels loaded with bombs to blow up the stockades.

In the afternoon of the 28th the sentinel in the belfry of Saint-Martin-de-Ré signalled to Bassompierre the approach of the English, and towards night the advance-guard cast anchor in a bay off the Île de Loix.

On the following morning the English ships got under way and approached the canal, but the wind changed and they returned to their stations. The Cardinal, who had come to Chef de Baie, offered to take Bassompierre back to the marshal’s quarters in his coach. On the way they both had a narrow escape, a cannon-shot from the town ploughing up the ground close to the coach and filling it with earth.

In the afternoon Louis XIII sent to inform Bassompierre that he proposed to do him the honour of taking up his quarters with him at Laleu, adding that he was to make what arrangements for his reception he thought fit and was to put himself to as little inconvenience as possible. His Majesty arrived, accompanied by his whole entourage, and more than twelve hundred gentlemen, to say nothing of his Household troops: Musketeers, Light Horse, Gensdarmes and Gardes du Corps, for all of whom Bassompierre had to find accommodation. However, he rose to the occasion and “received and entertained the company in such fashion that everyone marvelled.” The King remained five weeks at Laleu, and as he was graciously pleased to regard himself as the guest of the marshal, the latter had, of course, to defray the expenses of his stay, which amounted to 800 crowns a day.

Another squadron of the English fleet arrived that evening, and two more, including sixteen powerful ships-of-war, on the following day. During the afternoon some of the King’s ships stood in towards Chef de Baie and exchanged shots with Bassompierre’s batteries, after which they all came to anchor in the Straits of Antioche.

On October 1 the remainder of the English fleet came in, but contrary winds prevented any forward movement during that and the following day. But towards morning on the 3rd the wind changed, and Bassompierre judged, from the boats passing continually to and fro between the vessels, that an attack was preparing. He was right, for, so soon as morning broke, the English ships got under way and stood in towards the canal.

The marshal at once ordered the drums to beat to quarters and sent to warn the King and the Cardinal. They both hastened to Chef de Baie, where Louis announced his intention of remaining, while the Cardinal went to take up his station on the mole.

Favoured by wind and tide, the English fleet approached in three divisions. It was an imposing spectacle. The French fleet, under the orders of Valençay, filled the canal. The mole, which since the departure of Denbigh’s expedition had been completed and strengthened by the erection of a double row of gigantic chevaux de frise, the two floating stockades, the forts, the cliffs, the banks of the canal, bristled with guns and soldiers. Thousands of volunteers from all parts of France had flocked to La Rochelle to take part in the long-expected combat and filled the ships and the boats. Standing on the mole, in the centre of the great scene, the Cardinal calmly contemplated the coming of the enemy; while on the ramparts of the beleaguered town the famished citizens awaited in silence the issue of the battle which was to decide their fate.

Alas for the unhappy Rochellois! The sufferings which they had endured with such heroic fortitude were all in vain. The officers and crews of Lindsey’s fleet were no more ready to follow him into danger than those of Denbigh’s had been to follow their commander in the spring. The masters of the armed merchantmen, which formed the advance-guard, complained that they were being deliberately sacrificed to save the King’s ships, which had been ordered to follow in support. The King’s ships drew too much water to come to close quarters, and the admiral could only order them to stand in as far as possible without running aground. They took good care that there should be no possibility of that.

The merchantmen approached just within range of the French fleet and the batteries on the promontories, discharged a broadside, went about, discharged another broadside and then fell back, while the King’s ships advanced and did the same. This performance was repeated three times, while the guns of the French fleet and of the batteries at Chef de Baie and Coreilles[116] blazed away at them. The noise was terrific, but the range was too long for much damage to be suffered by either side,[117] and, after the action—if such it can be called—had lasted a couple of hours, the tide turned, and the English ships returned to their anchorage. No attempt had been made to close with and board any of the French vessels, though Lindsey’s despatches show that he believed that this operation was perfectly feasible.

At daybreak on the 4th the English renewed the attack, but with no more effect than on the previous day. In vain orders were sent to the captains to stand in closer to the French fleet and send in fire-ships against it. A few fire-ships were sent drifting in, but without any attempt to direct their course; and the French boats, braving the fire of the enemy’s guns, advanced to meet them, towed them aside, and ran them ashore beneath the cliffs of Chef de Baie, where they could do no harm. Not a French ship was set on fire. Not a man on either side killed. A more futile affair could not be imagined.

After the English ships had returned to their anchorage, the Rochellois émigrés who were with them sent to demand a parley, and Bassompierre despatched Lisle-Rouet to bring two of them ashore, whom he took in his coach to Richelieu’s quarters. The deputies asked that they might be allowed to enter La Rochelle, in order to see for themselves the state which the town was in, and make a report to their friends; but their request was refused. That night Bassompierre had the satisfaction of laying his hands on a famous spy from La Rochelle named Tavart, who had already been arrested twice before, but on each occasion had contrived to effect his escape, in consequence of which the Grand Provost, La Trousse, who had been responsible for his safe custody, had been disgraced. The marshal, however, took care that this bold fellow should not be allowed a third chance, and caused him to be hanged the next morning. He deserved a better fate.

On the 5th Monsieur returned to the army, accompanied by a suite of thirty gentlemen, and took up his quarters temporarily with Bassompierre, who was called upon to defray the expenses of the prince and his entourage. The siege of La Rochelle threatened to prove almost as costly an affair for the unfortunate marshal as his embassy to England.

In the course of the day it came on to blow hard and the English fleet had an unpleasant time of it. On the following morning, as the gale showed no sign of abating, they weighed, and retired to the safer anchorage of the Île d’Aix. Despite the pitiable results of his attacks on the 3rd and 4th, Lindsey could not make up his mind to relinquish hope, and had decided to wait a few days, when the spring tide would enable him to bring his larger ships nearer to the mole. Time, however, pressed. A message reached the fleet that La Rochelle was now reduced to the last extremity and could hold out at furthest but a few days longer; and as the prospect of being able to relieve the town was, at best, exceedingly dubious, it was decided to send Walter Montague, who had accompanied the expedition, to interview Richelieu, on the pretext of arranging for an exchange of prisoners.

Montague came to see the Cardinal on the 14th; he returned on the following day, and again on the 16th, when Richelieu and Bassompierre took him to see the mole and the other defence works. “He expressed his astonishment at our work,” says the marshal, “and declared to us that it was impossible to force the canal.”

The Cardinal told the English envoy that the King could not tolerate the mediation of a foreign prince between him and his revolted subjects; but a truce of a fortnight was granted, in order to allow Lindsey to communicate with his Government, with a view to bringing about peace between England and France, in which La Rochelle would be included. In the interval, however, the town surrendered.

On the 22nd the Huguenot refugees in the English fleet sent a request to Bassompierre for a safe-conduct, as they desired to see the Cardinal. This was granted, and on the following day six of them landed and were driven in the marshal’s coach to the Cardinal’s quarters at La Saussaye; while Bassompierre himself went to the Fort of La Fons to meet the deputies from La Rochelle, who were also demanding to see Richelieu. At the Cardinal’s request, he brought them to La Saussaye, where they were conducted into a gallery to await his Eminence’s pleasure.

The capitulation, drawn up in the form of letters of pardon, was signed on the 28th. The refugees who were in the English fleet, or who had remained in England, received their pardon also, on condition that they returned to France within three months.

On the following day a deputation from the town came to make their submission to the King. The maréchaux de camp, Marillac and Le Hallier, met the deputies at the Porte Neuve of La Rochelle and conducted them to the entrance to the Royal lines, where Bassompierre was awaiting them. The marshal then conducted them to Laleu and presented them to the Cardinal, who, in his turn, presented them to the King, “to whom, throwing themselves on their knees, they made very humble submission. The King then spoke a few words to them, and the Keeper of the Seals at greater length, and finally the King pardoned them.”

On the 30th the town was occupied by the French and Swiss Guards. The sights they beheld were heartrending. The houses, the streets, the squares were encumbered with dead bodies which the living had not had the strength to bury; and as the troops passed along they were assailed by a crowd of living spectres, who, ravenous with hunger, snatched at the ammunition-bread suspended from the soldiers’ bandoliers. Nearly 15,000 people—that is to say, about half the population of La Rochelle—had perished; in all the town there were not 150 men capable of bearing arms.

The Cardinal made his entry the same day into the conquered town, preceded by a great convoy of provisions. Although ill and weak with fever, he had decided to make his entry on horseback, like a victorious general. Guiton, the man who had defied him for so many months, came, in his capacity as mayor, to receive him, escorted by six archers. The Cardinal sternly ordered him to dismiss his escort, as the office of Mayor of La Rochelle was henceforth abolished. Then he inquired of Guiton what he thought of the Kings of France and England. “I think,” was the reply, “that it is better to have for master the King who has taken La Rochelle than the King who was unable to defend it.”[119]

On November 1 Richelieu, transformed from the general into the priest, celebrated Mass in the Church of Sainte-Marguerite, assisted by his faithful lieutenant, Sourdis, Archbishop of Bordeaux. Then he went to take the keys of the town to Louis XIII, who made his entry late in the day, the Cardinal riding “all alone before the King, as though to show to all that he was the second person in France.”

Some days later a royal declaration was issued, the preamble of which announced that the King had conquered by the aid of the Divine Providence, and by the “counsel, prudence, vigilance and toil” of the Cardinal. The mayoralty and all the other municipal offices of La Rochelle were abolished, the privileges of its citizens suppressed, and all its fortifications, save the three towers of La Lanterne, La Chaine and Saint-Nicholas and the ramparts facing the sea, were to be razed to the ground. The Pope was to be petitioned to make the town into a bishopric.

On the whole, however, it is impossible to deny that La Rochelle was treated with remarkable leniency. The town, it is true, lost its independence, which was, indeed, incompatible with the sovereignty of the King, but there was no vengeance taken, no victims sacrificed, no wanton mockery or insult offered to the vanquished. The lives and property of the inhabitants were spared, and their liberty of worship secured to them.

After the fall of La Rochelle, the Cardinal sent for Bassompierre and proposed to him that he should continue in command of the division of the army now serving under him, lead it to the Rhône, and there await orders to march into Italy to the relief of Casale. But the marshal begged his Eminence to excuse him, pointing out that though, in ordinary circumstances, he would be only too happy to have such a command, he had disbursed during the siege, largely in entertaining the King and other illustrious persons, no less a sum than 120,000 crowns, and that, in consequence, it was absolutely imperative that he should proceed to Paris, “for the purpose of putting his affairs in order.” The Cardinal accepted his excuses, and on November 18 Bassompierre set out with the King for Paris, into which Louis XIII made a triumphal entry, to celebrate his victory over the last great French town which was ever to stand up against the Monarchy, until in 1789 Paris rose and swept that ancient institution away.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

The duchy of Mantua had not been seriously attacked, the Spaniards and the Piedmontese having concentrated their efforts on the conquest of Montferrato. Charles Emmanuel had promptly seized upon his share of the spoil; but the governor of Milan, Don Gonzalez de Cordoba, had shown little skill and less energy in the conduct of his operations, and had been unable to prevent Casale, gallantly defended by the French volunteers, from being revictualled on several occasions. However, the town was now being closely besieged, and though the garrison, ably seconded by the citizens, could be trusted to offer a stubborn resistance, it was imperative that help should arrive with as little delay as possible.

Richelieu had, however, to gain a new victory at the Court before being able to go to the succour of the allies of France beyond the Alps. The Queen-Mother, who hated the Gonzaga family, and had an old grudge against the Duc de Nevers, now become Duke of Mantua, strenuously opposed the intervention of France in the affairs of Italy. Indifferent to the fact that neither the honour nor the interest of France would permit the sacrifice of such old allies as the Gonzagas, she urged that the King ought to permit the aggrandisement of the House of Savoy, the heir of which was the husband of his sister. The High Catholic party in the Council, indignant that Richelieu, instead of devoting himself to crushing the remnant of the Huguenots, proposed to make war on the King of Spain, supported her warmly; and it is not improbable that their combined efforts might have been successful, had not the astute Cardinal had recourse to an expedient which he had already employed with success on more than one previous occasion.

First, he presented to the King a memorial, in which he outlined the policy, foreign and domestic, which he considered it essential that his Majesty should follow for his own glory and the welfare of his realm. Then, in his character of priest, he pointed out, with audacious frankness, the grave defects in his Majesty’s character: his idleness, his inconstancy, his neglect of even his most faithful and devoted servants, and so forth, which it was most necessary he should endeavour to remedy if he

desired to be a great king. And, finally, he tendered his resignation, on the pretext that his health was no longer equal to the cares of office.

Richelieu had little doubt what the answer would be. Louis, aware of his personal incapacity, and unwilling to renounce the power and glory which his great Minister had promised him, and which, as he well knew, he alone was capable of securing for him, accepted his advice and refused his resignation.

Marie de’ Medici, finding herself unable to prevent the Italian expedition, demanded for Monsieur the command of the army, under the pretext of saving the King from the hardships and dangers of a winter campaign in the Alps. Richelieu did not see his way to oppose the Queen-Mother’s request, and Louis consented; but his jealousy of his brother soon asserted itself, and, to the intense mortification of Marie and Monsieur, the arrangement was cancelled.

On January 15, 1629, Louis XIII, having entrusted to Marie de’ Medici the task of pursuing the negotiations for peace with England, left Paris for Grenoble, where the army with which he proposed to enter Italy was assembled.

This might seem an act of great munificence on the part of Louis XIII, did we not remember that the royal donor had been the guest of the recipient of his bounty for several weeks during the siege of La Rochelle, and had thereby put the latter to an expense which must have far exceeded the cost of the cider.

At Grenoble the King remained for some three weeks to negotiate with the Duke of Savoy. Charles Emmanuel was unable to believe that Louis really intended to cross the Alps while the Huguenots of the South were still unsubdued, and, esteeming himself the arbiter between France and Spain, he refused to abandon the Spaniards, unless the King would undertake to assist him to conquer the Milanese or Genoa or sacrifice to him Geneva.

The King and the Cardinal thereupon resolved to descend into Piedmont by way of Mont-Genèvre and Susa. The Duc de Guise, Governor of Provence, was directed to create a diversion by way of Nice and Liguria, an operation which he executed very slowly and inefficiently. At Grenoble, however, the utmost activity prevailed, and though, when Richelieu arrived there, the army was deficient in artillery, munitions, transport and, in short, nearly everything required for a campaign, thanks to his unwearying exertions, in a surprisingly short time it was ready to take the field, and on February 22 the advance began. On March 1 the army passed Mont-Genèvre, notwithstanding the severity of the weather, and on the 3rd the advance-guard, some 10,000 to 12,000 strong, under Bassompierre and Créquy, encamped at Chaumont, the last village on the French side of the frontier, at the entrance to the Pass of Susa.

Two or three days were occupied in pourparlers between Richelieu, who had left the King at Oulx, and the Prince of Piedmont, who had hurried to Susa on receiving the news that the French had crossed the mountains. The Cardinal, however, recognised that the prince and his father sought only to gain time to enable them to fortify the Pass of Susa and to allow of the arrival of the Piedmontese and Spanish troops whom they had summoned in all haste. The negotiations were accordingly broken off, and at two o’clock in the morning of the 6th the King arrived from Oulx, accompanied by Longueville, Soissons, the Comte de Moret, Henri IV’s son by Jacqueline de Beuil, and Schomberg, and the army crossed the frontier and advanced towards the head of the pass.

The Pass of Susa was a defile about a quarter of a league in length and in places less than twenty paces wide, obstructed here and there by fallen rocks. The enemy had not been idle and had erected three formidable barricades, strengthened by earthworks and ditches, while the rocky heights on either side were crowned with soldiers and protected by small redoubts. On a neighbouring mountain stood a fort called by the French the Fort de Gelasse, from the name of a little watercourse hard by, and the cannon of this fort commanded the open space between Chaumont and the entrance to the pass. It was one of those positions which a handful of resolute men might successfully defend against an entire army; and, as the Piedmontese had already between 3,000 and 4,000 men there, the probability of the invaders being able to force a passage through the defile, unless at a heavy sacrifice of life, seemed very slight.

The French troops before the pass consisted of seven companies of French Guards, six of the Swiss, the greater part of the Regiments of Navarre, the Baron d’Estissac and the Comte de Sault, and the Musketeers of the Guard. The Musketeers, who had dismounted from their horses, were under command of the Seigneur de Tréville, the erstwhile private soldier of the French Guards who, it will be remembered, had so distinguished himself at the siege of Montauban.[120] The Comte de Sault’s regiment was detached from the main body, and, guided by peasants of the neighbourhood, sent to make a détour through the mountains, which would bring it to a spot overlooking the town of Susa, whence it could descend and take the enemy in the rear; while the rest of the troops were drawn up just out of range of the guns of Fort de Gelasse.

At dawn the Sieur de Cominges was sent forward with a trumpeter to demand, in the name of the King, passage for his Majesty’s person and army from the Duke of Savoy. To his request the Count of Verrua, who commanded the Piedmontese, replied that the French did not come as people who desired to pass as friends; that he was fully prepared to resist them, and that if they endeavoured to force a passage, “they would gain nothing but blows.”

The three marshals of France, Créquy, Bassompierre, and Schomberg, had come to an arrangement by which each in turn commanded the army for three days at a time; and, when Cominges returned with this bellicose answer, Bassompierre, who happened to be in command that day, approached the King, who had taken up his position a little way behind the storm troops, and said to him: “Sire, Sire, the company is ready; the musicians have come in to demand permission to begin the fête; the masks are at the door. When it pleases your Majesty, we will dance the ballet.” The King replied sharply that the marshal knew very well that they had only light guns with them, which would have no effect upon the barricades, and that they must wait until their heavy artillery came up.

Somewhat reluctantly Louis XIII yielded, and Bassompierre forthwith gave the order for the troops to advance. He and Créquy dismounted and, sword in hand, led the French Guards and the regiments of Navarre and d’Estissac against the barricades. At the same time, with irresistible élan, the Musketeers, under Tréville, and the Swiss, under Valençay, escaladed the heights on either side of the gorge, dislodged the enemy, gained the top of the rocks, poured a withering flanking-fire into the defenders of the barricades, and then charged down upon them. Finding themselves attacked simultaneously in front and on both flanks, the Piedmontese were seized with panic; the three barricades were carried almost without resistance, and the enemy pursued almost to the gates of Susa, being badly cut up on the way by Sault’s regiment, who fell upon them as they were retreating. The Duke of Savoy and the Prince of Piedmont were within an ace of being made prisoners, and only contrived to escape through the bravery of a Spanish officer, who, with a small body of men, threw himself between them and the Musketeers who were about to seize them and was wounded and taken.[121] The victory only cost the French some fifty men. Amongst the wounded were Valençay and Schomberg. The latter received a musket-shot in the abdomen, but the wound was not a dangerous one, and the marshal was soon convalescent.

As the pursuing French came within range of the cannon of the citadel of Susa, they were heavily fired upon. “But,” says Bassompierre, “we were so excited by the combat and so joyous at having obtained the victory, that we paid no attention to these cannon-shots.”

In the course of the day the King sent to felicitate Bassompierre and Créquy on the victory they had won, but blamed them for having charged at the head of the troops, since, if they had been killed, not only would he have been deprived of the services of two of his most distinguished officers, but the army would have lost its leaders, and the effect on its morale might have been disastrous. The marshals replied that they had judged this to be an occasion when it was necessary to stake everything on a single cast, and to inspire their men to the utmost courage and resolution by placing themselves at their head, since if the first attack had been repulsed, it was most improbable that subsequent attempts would have succeeded.

The town of Susa surrendered the next day, and the King and the Cardinal established themselves there; while Bassompierre and Créquy, pushing on with the advance-guard of the army, took Bussolongo and were about to attack Avigliana, a town situated only four leagues from Turin, when they received orders to halt, as negotiations for peace had begun.

On the 11th Charles Emmanuel sent the Prince of Piedmont to Susa, where he signed with the Cardinal a treaty whereby the Duke of Savoy engaged to revictual Casale and promised, in the name of the governor of the Milanese, to evacuate Montferrato and cease all hostile operations against the Duke of Mantua. The ratification of Philip IV was to be obtained within six weeks, and his Catholic Majesty was to undertake to secure for the Duke of Mantua the Imperial investiture. In case of the contravention of this treaty by Spain, the Duke of Savoy was to join his forces to those of France. On March 18 the Spaniards raised the siege of Casale; and thus at a single blow France triumphantly reasserted her position in Italy.

Richelieu subsequently proposed a defensive league between France, Venice, Savoy, and Mantua against the House of Austria. It was hoped to secure the adhesion of the Papacy, as Urban VIII had been much displeased by the invasion of Mantua and Montferrato.

Charles Emmanuel, eager to compensate himself on one side for what he had failed to gain on the other, pressed Louis XIII to invade the Milanese, and Venice warmly seconded his efforts. But, though the moment certainly appeared favourable for such an enterprise, Richelieu resisted the temptation and did not alter his plans. He was resolved to put an end to the civil strife in France before embarking on any further foreign enterprise.

The Duke of Savoy, irritated by this refusal, determined to violate the new treaty so soon as he could do so without danger. On one pretext or another, he delayed the evacuation of Montferrato by his troops, and the Spaniards followed his example. The King and the Cardinal, however, did not allow themselves to be tricked by the Duke; they sent Toiras with between 3,000 and 4,000 men to relieve the Spanish garrisons of Montferrato, and Louis XIII announced his intention of remaining at Susa until the treaty was fully executed.

Towards the end of April the Republic of Genoa sent an Embassy Extraordinary to Louis XIII, and the momentous question arose as to whether the Genoese ambassadors were or were not to be permitted to present themselves covered before his Majesty. The privilege of the hat was accorded by the King of France to the representatives of all the princes and republics of Italy, though until recent years those of Ferrara, Mantua, and Urbino had been excepted. But the later Valois kings had claimed sovereignty over Genoa, and this claim had never been formally renounced. Consequently, if Louis XIII were to allow the Genoese ambassadors to come into his presence covered, it would be tantamount to an admission that France had abandoned her pretensions in regard to the republic.

The King, much exercised in his mind over this matter, sent for Bassompierre and demanded his advice. The marshal replied that, as his Majesty now accorded the privilege of the hat to the ambassadors of Ferrara, Mantua, and Urbino, he ought certainly to accord it to the representatives of Genoa, a republic which yielded little or nothing in importance to Venice, and that, in point of fact, an ambassador whom Genoa had sent to his Court some years before had been covered during his audience. At that moment, the Secretary of State Châteauneuf, whom the King had also sent for, came in and Louis asked for his opinion. Châteauneuf took a different view of the matter from Bassompierre, and strongly advised the King not to admit the Genoese to his presence covered, declaring that they were his subjects and that, by this concession, he “would destroy the right which he had over this republic.” Thereupon, Louis, always very tenacious of his prerogatives, declared that he should refuse to receive the ambassadors unless they were uncovered, and directed that they should be informed of his decision.

Next day Bassompierre received a visit from the Nuncio, Cardinal Bagni, who came to invoke his good offices on behalf of the Genoese ambassadors. The Nuncio told him that he had been charged by the Pope to take particular care that they were well received; that it was against all equity and reason that they should be denied the privilege which had been accorded to the last ambassador whom the republic had sent to the King of France; that, at the Papal Court, Genoa, together with Venice, took precedence of all the princes of Italy; and that he could assure the marshal that he would be performing an action very pleasing to the Holy Father if he were able to persuade the King to receive them covered.

Bassompierre replied that he should esteem it a great honour to render this trifling service to his Holiness and the Republic of Genoa, but that the King had already refused to follow his advice, and that his Majesty was very obstinate when he had once taken a thing into his head and easily irritated against those who opposed him. However, he would go and consult the Cardinal de Richelieu and see what could be done.

Richelieu, who was naturally very anxious to oblige the Pope, told Bassompierre that he would propose to the King that he should take the advice of the Council on the matter, and promised that he would warmly support the marshal’s opinion and would arrange that the other members should do the same, with the exception of Châteauneuf, whom he would instruct to offer some half-hearted objections, for form’s sake.

The Council met, but the King, who had been informed that the Genoese ambassadors had decided to return whence they came without demanding audience of him, if they were to be refused the right of being covered, was in a particularly obstinate mood, and after demanding Bassompierre’s advice, he added: “I ask you for it, but I shall not follow it, for I know beforehand that it will be in favour of their being covered, and that what you are doing is on the recommendation of Don Augustine Fiesco, who is staying with you.” Don Augustino Fiesco, it should be mentioned, was a Genoese noble and an old friend of Bassompierre. Bassompierre, indignant at such an insinuation, protested that he had no relations with the Republic of Genoa and was under no obligations to Don Augustine Fiesco, who, in point of fact, was under considerable obligations to him; and that, even if such had been the case, it would not prevent him from discharging his duty to his sovereign.

A day or two afterwards the King had repented of this childish display of temper, and, by way of making his peace with Bassompierre, sent him nine boxes of Italian sweetmeats.

On April 4 peace with England was signed at Paris. Charles I had vainly endeavoured in the negotiations which preceded it to exercise in favour of Rohan and the Huguenots the intervention which Richelieu had refused to permit at La Rochelle. But the French Government was inexorable, and he was constrained to abandon the Protestants, notwithstanding their complaints and imprecations.

On the side of Italy matters were less satisfactory. The defensive league against Spain which Richelieu had planned did not materialise; while Philip IV’s ratification of the treaty for the evacuation of Mantua and Montferrato did not arrive; and it was evident that he and Charles Emmanuel intended to evade its stipulations. The King and Richelieu therefore determined to crush the Huguenot rebellion by a single vigorous blow, and then to resume, if need be, the offensive in Italy. On April 28 the King left Susa to return to France; and on May 11 the Cardinal followed, accompanied by Bassompierre, leaving Créquy at Susa with 6,000 men. The Duke of Savoy was warned that the French would remain in occupation until the treaty had been formally ratified by Philip IV.

The bulk of the Royal army had already crossed the Rhône, and 50,000 men were overrunning Languedoc and Upper Guienne. Richelieu’s plan of campaign was to send four corps to lay waste the country around Montauban, Castries, Nîmes and Uzès, the principal towns which the Protestants still held, so as to render these places incapable of sustaining a siege, while the King in person, with the rest of the army, was to march from the Rhône to the Tarn across the Cévennes, reducing on their way the smaller Huguenot strongholds in that part of the country.

To this powerful combined attack Rohan was only able to oppose forces weakened by a war which had already lasted eighteen months and disheartened by the news that England had abandoned them. Not knowing where else to turn for assistance, the successor of Coligny applied to the successor of Philip II, and on May 3, 1629, a treaty was signed at Madrid by which Spain promised the Huguenots a yearly subsidy of 300,000 ducats, and Rohan undertook “to continue the war so long as it might please his Catholic Majesty.” The duke further undertook, in the event of his being successful in establishing a Protestant republic in the South of France, to permit liberty of worship to all Catholics within its boundaries. “This strange compact, however, came too late; probably, before the first instalment of the subsidy had reached Rohan’s hands, his dreams of a Huguenot republic had been rudely dissipated.”

On May 19 the Cardinal and Bassompierre rejoined Louis XIII in the Royal camp before Privas, the capital of the Protestant Vivarais. On their arrival the King proposed to hold a meeting of the Council, but as the Duc de Montmorency, who was with the army, claimed to take precedence of the marshals of France, and Bassompierre declared that he refused to suffer him to do so, his Majesty was obliged to postpone it until the dispute between these great personages could be adjudicated upon.

Privas was garrisoned by 500 picked soldiers, commanded by a brave Huguenot noble, the Marquis de Saint-André de Montbrun, supported by a regiment of the Vivarais militia and a population animated by fierce religious zeal. The resistance at first was very stubborn, but by May 27 the outworks had been captured, and during the following night the garrison and the majority of the inhabitants evacuated the town and retired into the Fort de Toulon, situated on a hill to the south-east of Privas. The rest of the townsfolk endeavoured to escape into the woods and mountains, but most of them were either killed or captured. The prisoners were hanged or sent to the galleys. While the greater part of the Royal army was engaged in the congenial task of pillaging the town, which they afterwards set on fire, Bassompierre, with 1,200 Swiss, invested the fort, and at midday the garrison offered to capitulate. Louis XIII, however, was greatly incensed against the people of Privas, who had treated the Catholics of the surrounding country with much cruelty, and he insisted that they should surrender at discretion.[124] This they refused to do, but, a little later, Saint-André came out alone and surrendered at discretion to Bassompierre.[125] At the request of the King, Saint-André then wrote to those in the fort urging them to follow his example; but, fearful of the fate which awaited them, they could not bring themselves to do so. Towards evening a terrific storm came on and continued most of the night, and had the Huguenots endeavoured to effect their escape under cover of it, they would probably have succeeded. Unhappily for themselves, they made no attempt.