CHAPTER XLI

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Bassompierre in the Bastille—He is informed that he has been imprisoned “from fear lest he might be induced to do wrong”—Monsieur retires to Lorraine—The marshal’s nephew the Marquis de Bassompierre is ordered to leave France—After a few weeks of captivity, Bassompierre solicits his liberty, which is refused—He falls seriously ill, but recovers—Death of his wife the Princesse de Conti—Flight of the Queen-Mother to Brussels—Death of Bassompierre’s brother the Marquis de Removille—Execution of the MarÉchal de Marillac—Montmorency’s revolt—Trial and execution of the duke—Hopes of liberty, which, however, do not materialise—Arrest of ChÂteauneuf—Arrival of the Chevalier de Jars in the Bastille—A grim experience—Bassompierre disposes of his post of Colonel-General of the Swiss to the Marquis de Coislin—The marshal’s hopes of liberty constantly flattered and as constantly deceived—Malignity of Richelieu—The ravages committed by the contending armies upon his estates in Lorraine reduce Bassompierre to the verge of ruin—The marshal’s niece, Madame de Beuvron solicits her uncle’s liberty of Richelieu—Mocking answer of the Cardinal—Some notes written by Bassompierre in the margin of a copy of Dupleix’s history are published under his name, but without his authority—The historian complains to the Cardinal—Arrest of Valbois for reciting a sonnet attacking Richelieu for his treatment of Bassompierre—Apprehensions of the marshal—His despair at his continued detention—Grief occasioned him by the death of a favourite dog—The Duc de Guise dies in exile.

On the following day the Governor of the Bastille came to visit Bassompierre, and told the marshal that he was instructed by the King to inform him that “he had not caused him to be arrested for any fault which he had committed, and that he regarded him as his good servant, but from fear lest he might be induced to do wrong,” and that he should not remain long in confinement. This assurance, Bassompierre tells us, afforded him great consolation. Du Tremblay added that his Majesty had given orders that the marshal was to be allowed complete liberty, save that of leaving the fortress, and to take exercise in any part of the Bastille, while he was also to be permitted to have with him such of his servants as he might choose to attend him. Bassompierre, however, contented himself with sending for two lackeys and a cook, who were lodged in a room adjoining his own.

A day or two later Bassompierre sent to inquire of the King if his nephew, the Marquis de Bassompierre, eldest son of the marshal’s surviving brother, the Marquis de Removille, who was on a visit to France, might be permitted to visit him. His Majesty replied that, not only would he permit, but even wished, him to do so, and that he loved him, both for himself and on account of his uncle.

In the second week in March, Louis XIII quitted Paris and marched on OrlÉans, in order to compel Monsieur, who was threatening civil war, to return to his obedience. The Marquis de Bassompierre requested permission to accompany his Majesty, which was readily accorded, and his uncle furnished him with money to defray the expenses of this journey. On learning of the King’s approach, Gaston fled towards Burgundy, accompanied by the Duc de Roannez, the Comte de Moret, and some troops which he had raised. Bellegarde, Governor of Burgundy, declared in his favour, but made no attempt to raise the province in insurrection; and the prince proceeded to Franche-ComtÉ and thence to Lorraine. The King followed his brother so far as Dijon, where he launched a Declaration against his companions (March 30), and then retraced his steps. The fact that Monsieur had again retired to Lorraine had incensed him against Charles IV and all his subjects, and he sent to inform the Marquis de Bassompierre that “it was not agreeable that he should follow him or even remain in France.”

When, towards the end of April, Louis XIII returned to Paris, the marshal solicited his liberty; but his request was refused. Soon afterwards he fell ill “from a very dangerous swelling of the stomach, arising perhaps from his not having taken the air,” for, for some reason which he does not tell us, he had not left his room since he entered the Bastille two months before. So ill did he become that he thought he was dying, but having been persuaded to take daily exercise on the terrace, his health soon began to improve.

About the same time, a loss more bitter even than that of his liberty befell Bassompierre. The Princesse de Conti, to whom he was secretly married and was undoubtedly most tenderly attached, died at the ChÂteau of Eu on the last day of April, a victim, according to her contemporaries, to the grief which the misfortunes which had overwhelmed those whom she held dear had occasioned her. For, not only had the Queen-Mother been disgraced and her husband sent to the Bastille, but her eldest brother, the Duc de Guise, had deemed it prudent to go into voluntary exile in Italy, to escape a worse fate.

Very discreet in general concerning the names of the ladies with whom he had successes—“Bassompierre fait l’amour sans dire mot,” writes a Court poet of the time—the marshal preserves about his relations with the princess a scrupulous reserve, and his restrained emotion when he announces her death is the only indication of his sentiments for her which are to be found in his MÉmoires:

“I learned at the same time of the death of the Princesse de Conti, which occasioned me such affliction as was merited by the honour which, since my arrival at the Court, I had received from this princess, who, besides so many other perfections which have rendered her worthy of admiration, had that of being a very good and very obliging friend. I shall honour her memory and regret her for the rest of my days. She was so overwhelmed by grief at seeing herself separated from the Queen-Mother, with whom she had remained since the latter came to France, so afflicted at seeing her family persecuted and her friends and servants in disgrace, that she was neither willing nor able to survive, and died at Eu, on Monday, the last day of April, of that unhappy year 1631.”

Assured of the firm support of the King, Richelieu continued to carry matters with a high hand. The Parlement of Paris refused to register the Royal Declaration of March 30, which, without inculpating Monsieur, stigmatised the accomplices of his flight as guilty of lÈse-majestÉ. On May 13 the magistrates were summoned in a body to the Louvre, where Louis XIII curtly reminded them that their duty was to render justice to his subjects, and not to concern themselves with affairs of State. And, to give point to this rebuke, several presidents and counsellors were banished from Paris.

The excitement which the dissensions in the Royal family had aroused, and the fact that public opinion was distinctly hostile to the Cardinal, rendered it essential to remove the Queen-Mother so far as possible from the Court and Paris. Louis XIII requested her to retire to Moulins, with the government of the Bourbonnais, as a kind of honourable exile. She consented, but quickly altered her mind, pretending that her son had fixed upon Moulins in order to send her from there to Florence. Then the King offered her Angers as a residence. To this also she objected, but agreed to go to Nevers for a time. When, however, she learned that Monsieur had quitted France, she declined to budge from CompiÈgne.

Early in July, the King, finding that neither his entreaties nor his orders had any effect upon his mother, sent her a kind of ultimatum. Instead of obeying, Marie resolved to retire to a frontier town and from there dictate her conditions. One of her adherents, Vardes, who commanded at La Capelle, in the name of his father, offered to deliver the place to her; but the King, warned of his intention, sent the old Marquis de Vardes in hot haste to La Capelle, who won over the garrison and expelled his son and the Queen-Mother’s friends from the town. When Marie, who had escaped from CompiÈgne on July 18, approached La Capelle, she was met by the younger Vardes, who informed her of the failure of their plans, which left her no alternative but to cross the Flemish frontier and seek an asylum with the Spaniards at Brussels.

At the beginning of 1632 some hope of his regaining his liberty was held out to Bassompierre. “But,” says he, “I believe that this was done rather to redouble my sufferings by deceiving my hopes than to alleviate my misfortunes.” Anyway, he remained a prisoner, and soon afterwards another sorrow befell him in the death of his brother, the Marquis de Removille, from an illness caused by the hardships he had undergone while serving in the Imperial army during the preceding year.

Early in May Bassompierre learned of the tragic fate of his fellow-marshal, Louis de Marillac, who, after having been kept a prisoner at Sainte-Menehould for several months, was brought to trial before a special commission sitting at Richelieu’s own chÂteau of Rueil, on charges of malversation committed while in command of the Army of Champagne, found guilty, condemned to death and executed in the Place de GrÈve two days later.

A still more striking example of the danger of crossing the path of the terrible Cardinal—for no one doubted that had not Louis de Marillac been so ill-advised as to desert Richelieu’s cause for that of the Queen-Mother, little or nothing would have been heard of his weakness for enriching himself at the expense of the State—was afforded in the following autumn.

In September Monsieur and his friends, counting on Austro-Spanish aid, which, however, failed them completely, attempted an invasion of France. The Duc de Montmorency, Governor of Languedoc, irritated by the growing power of Richelieu and his determination to reduce great nobles like himself to political impotence, took up arms in Gaston’s cause. Defeated and made prisoner by Schomberg at Castelnaudary, he was brought to trial for high treason before the Parlement of Toulouse. Extraordinary efforts were made to save him, but all to no purpose, and on October 29, 1632, the head of “the noblest, wealthiest, handsomest and most pious gentleman in the kingdom” rolled on the scaffold.[140]

Richelieu took advantage of Montmorency’s revolt to remove all hostile or suspected governors of provinces and replace them by his own friends. He himself had already obtained the government of Brittany and been created duke and peer. He was triumphing everywhere, at home and abroad.

At the beginning of the following year Bassompierre had again great hopes of recovering his liberty. Schomberg sent him word that, on the return of the King from the South, he would be released, and he learned that both Louis XIII and the Cardinal had said as much to several persons. However, he was again doomed to disappointment, the fact that Monsieur, after making his submission, had quitted France again, this time for Flanders, being the pretext for his continued detention.

“In place of liberating me,” writes the poor marshal, “they deprived me of that portion of my salary which had been paid me during the two preceding years, notwithstanding that I was a prisoner, amounting to one-third of what I had been accustomed to draw every year. This made me see plainly that it was intended to keep me eternally in the Bastille.”

On February 25—the same day on which two years before Bassompierre had been sent to the Bastille—ChÂteauneuf, the Keeper of the Seals, who had foolishly allowed himself to be drawn by Madame de Chevreuse, with whom he was madly in love, into a fresh conspiracy against Richelieu, was arrested at Saint-Germain-en-Laye and conducted to the ChÂteau of AngoulÊme, where he remained in close confinement until the Cardinal’s death, ten years later. At the same time, the gates of the Bastille opened to admit his nephew, the Marquis de Leuville, and several other persons who had been concerned in the affair, including Bassompierre’s old friend, the Chevalier de Jars.

The Cardinal attached great importance to the arrest of Jars, as he believed that he might be induced to reveal the part which Anne of Austria had played in the conspiracy. But the chevalier, if a somewhat feather-brained, was a brave and honourable, man, and, though he was kept in close confinement for nearly a year and subjected to repeated examinations by his Eminence’s myrmidons, he steadfastly refused to make the least admission that might incriminate the Queen or any of her friends. Finally, he was transferred to Troyes, and then brought to trial for high treason before a special commission, at the head of which was the notorious Laffemas, who was known as “the Cardinal’s executioner,” and made it his boast that he could condemn any man, if he had but two lines of his writing. Laffemas bullied and browbeat the prisoner and “did all the mean things that the base soul is capable of suggesting,”[141] but to no purpose, for he could wring nothing from him. Accordingly, the judges proceeded to pass sentence of death on Jars, who was in due course conducted to the scaffold, “where he made his appearance with a demeanour full of courage, smiling at his enemies and prepared to meet death without flinching.”[142] But it was only a grim farce after all, for Richelieu had nothing to gain by the removal of such small fry as the chevalier, and the only object of the trial had been to intimidate him into betraying his accomplices. And so, at the moment when the condemned man was about to lay his head on the block, Laffemas interrupted the proceedings by producing an order from the King which remitted the capital sentence and directed that the chevalier should be conducted back to the Bastille.

At the beginning of 1634 Bassompierre received a promise that his salary as Colonel-General of the Swiss, which had been suspended the previous year, should be paid, but this promise was not kept. In the following September, however, he learned that the King had given orders that he was to receive it, but, pressed by his creditors, who since his imprisonment had given him no rest, and believing that, if he ceased to command the Swiss, one of the chief reasons for his continued detention would be removed, he begged Richelieu, through the governor of the Bastille, to obtain the King’s permission to sell his post. This was granted, and he also obtained permission to offer it to the Marquis de Rochefort, a friend of Du Tremblay. Rochefort, however, would give no more than 400,000 livres, and the marshal, who while at liberty had refused double that sum, declined to sell at this price. Thereupon Rochefort endeavoured to persuade Richelieu to compel Bassompierre to accept his offer; but though the Cardinal would not do this, the order for the payment of the marshal’s salary was cancelled, and “he continued his miserable imprisonment in the Bastille with great inconvenience in his domestic affairs.”

Towards the middle of December, Du Tremblay came to visit the marshal and told him that he was commissioned to make him an offer for his post, which, if he accepted, his liberty was assured. The persons who had empowered him to do this, whose names he was not at liberty to mention at present, would not go beyond 400,000 livres, but they were people of great influence at Court, who could powerfully assist him in obtaining his release. Bassompierre consented, on condition that the arrears of his salary were paid, and Du Tremblay promised that his brother PÈre Joseph should go to Rueil and speak to the Cardinal about this. A day or two later Du Tremblay informed him that PÈre Joseph and the two Bouthilliers had undertaken to arrange the matter with Richelieu, and that he thought that he would leave the Bastille before Christmas. And he gave him to understand that the influential persons for whom he was acting were the Baron de PontchÂteau and his son, the Marquis de Coislin, who was married to a daughter of Pierre SÉguier, ChÂteauneuf’s successor in the post of Keeper of the Seals.

At the end of the year Louis XIII gave his consent to the Marquis de Coislin succeeding Bassompierre in the command of the Swiss.

“And then it was divulged that the said Marquis de Coislin would be Colonel-General of the Swiss, and the Keeper of the Seals sent me some compliments on the matter through M. du Tremblay; and the rumour of my release, which six weeks before had been very strong, augmented to such a degree, that a number of persons came every day to the Bastille to see if I were still there; and it was regarded as certain that I should be released at Epiphany.”

Epiphany came and went, and Bassompierre still remained in the Bastille, the population of which was about this time increased by the arrival of several persons who were suspected of being concerned with Puylaurens and Du Fargis, formerly French Ambassador at Madrid, in treasonable relations with Spain. These two were imprisoned at Vincennes, where Puylaurens died some months later.

On February 16 Bassompierre received a visit from the younger Bouthillier.

“He assured me,” says he, “of the favour of the King and the affection of the Cardinal, as also of my liberation, but without specifying the time. He told me further that the King was nominating the Marquis de Coislin as Colonel-General of the Swiss in my place, who would pay me, in consideration of that, 400,000 livres in cash, and, as to that which concerned my pay and salary due to me for the said charge, my friends, namely his father, himself and PÈre Joseph, did not wish to make any proposal on that matter, but would leave it to myself to negotiate after my release. And in this I had no alternative but to acquiesce.”

The 400,000 livres was duly paid, the money being brought to the Bastille, by Lopez and SÉguier’s intendant Pepin, in instalments of 40,000 to 50,000 livres at a time, the whole transaction occupying several days, as Bassompierre had insisted on being paid in livres instead of in pistoles, and the money had, of course, to be counted and weighed in his presence. Finally, the business was ended, and on March 8 he gave his receipt for the sum and the resignation of his post to his successor’s agents.

“It was,” says he, “the same month, day and hour, that, twenty-one years before, I had taken oath between the hands of the King for the same charge of Colonel-General of the Swiss.”

A few days later the younger Bouthillier again came to see Bassompierre, and informed him that the Cardinal had spoken to the King of his liberation, that his Majesty had granted it, and that he was to leave the Bastille almost immediately.

“Nevertheless,” says the marshal, “I pressed him strongly to name the precise day on which I should be released, which he declined to do, although he told me that I should be entirely free within a week.”

Several weeks, however, passed without Bassompierre hearing any further news of his liberation; and it was not until the last day of April that the Governor of the Bastille received a letter from PÈre Joseph, requesting him to assure the marshal that he would receive his liberty on the return to Paris of the younger Bouthillier, who was to bring him the order for his release. (The Court, it should be mentioned, was then at CompiÈgne.) Bouthillier arrived on May 5, but, as the marshal heard nothing from him, he sent his niece, Madame de Beuvron, to see him, when the Minister told her that he had actually had the order for her uncle’s release in his hands, but that, owing to the intelligence that had arrived that Monsieur had gone to Brittany, possibly with the intention of embarking for England, it had been decided that the marshal could not be set at liberty so soon, and the order had been cancelled. A few days later it was ascertained that Monsieur had gone to Brittany merely to visit some friends of his, and that he was staying with the Duc de Retz at Machecoul, and had not the least intention of leaving the kingdom. However, this did not hasten Bassompierre’s release, and it began to dawn upon the poor marshal that there never had been any immediate intention of giving him his freedom, and that the assurances which he had received were merely a bait to induce him to sell his post of Colonel-General of the Swiss for about half its value.

Towards the end of May, Du Bois, Bassompierre’s maÎtre-d’hÔtel, who was also commissary of the French and Swiss Guards, happened to go on some business to ChÂteau-Thiery, where the Court then was. Louis XIII, recognising Du Bois, for he had seen him frequently when he had been the marshal’s guest, told him to come to his lodging and inquired when he was returning to Paris. Du Bois replied that he intended to do so on the following day. “Stay over Sunday,” said the King—it was a Friday—“and I will give you an order for the release of the Marshal de Bassompierre, which I will have made ready on Monday, after I have spoken to the Cardinal.” Du Bois, greatly delighted, for he was much attached to Bassompierre, readily promised to remain, and lost no time in sending off a courier to bear the joyful tidings to the Bastille.

On the Monday, the elder Bouthillier went to visit the Cardinal, who was staying at CondÉ, and, before starting, told Du Bois that, on his return, he would give him the order of release, and that he could make arrangements to leave for Paris the following morning. But when, on the Minister’s return, Du Bois went to receive the despatch, Bouthillier informed him that his Eminence had been so much occupied with important affairs that day that Bouthillier had hardly been able to mention the matter to him. However, he was coming to ChÂteau-Thiery on Wednesday to see the King, when no doubt the order of release would be made out.

The Cardinal did not arrive until Friday, and when, after he had concluded his business with the King and returned to CondÉ, Du Bois went to Bouthillier, fully expecting to find the precious document awaiting him, he was told that so many pressing affairs had had to be discussed that there had been no time to deal with that of his master’s liberty, but that the marshal might be assured that it would be decided on the earliest possible opportunity. And he suggested that, if Du Bois wished, he should go to Paris and return a few days later, when very probably the order of release would be ready for him.

“On the Saturday,” writes Bassompierre, “Monsieur le Comte sent me word that he had learned on very good authority that my liberty was resolved upon, and that in twenty-four hours I should be released without fail. But on the Monday I saw Du Bois, who made me understand that it was pure deceit; and, although the First President sent to tell me the same day that I should go out before the end of the week, I did not in the least believe that I should be set at liberty.”

However, assurances of his approaching liberty were not wanting. First, the younger Bouthillier told Madame de Beuvron that the delay in setting her uncle at liberty was due solely to the suspicious conduct of Monsieur, of whom apparently the marshal was regarded as so devoted an adherent that it would be imprudent to give him his freedom until the King could feel sure that his brother had no intention of causing further trouble. Then, towards the end of June, Du Tremblay came to inform Bassompierre that he was charged by the Bouthilliers, pÈre et fils, that he might never regard them again as honest men if he were still a prisoner in a fortnight’s time. Finally, a week later the son wrote that the Cardinal had given him his word that the marshal was to be set at liberty, and had authorised him to tell him so.

And so the miserable game went on month after month, year after year, the Cardinal gratifying his malignity by wantonly sporting with the hopes of his hapless prisoner, who was continually receiving the most confident assurances that his freedom was at hand, only to discover that they were worthless. It is indeed astonishing that so great a man should have descended to such paltry exhibitions of spite, and have persuaded, not only his colleagues in the Ministry, but his sovereign as well, to lend themselves to them. But Richelieu was a strange character, and combined in a singular degree qualities worthy of the most profound admiration with others which can provoke nothing but contempt.

But the cruel disappointments inflicted upon him by the malice of the Cardinal were far from the only mortifications which Bassompierre had to endure. His financial affairs were not in a prosperous condition, and his sojourn in the Bastille brought him to the verge of ruin. His creditors, whose appetites appear only to have been whetted by the sops which the sale of his post of Colonel-General of the Swiss had enabled him to fling to them, grew more clamorous than ever; his men of affairs proved unworthy of the trust he reposed in them and pilfered the dÉbris of his fortune, and an Italian bank, by means of a forged document, seized upon a magnificent tapestry which he would not have parted with upon any consideration. Nor was this all. With the entry of France as a principal into the Thirty Years’ War, Lorraine had become the battle-ground of the hostile armies, and Frenchmen, Imperialists, and Swedes vied with one another in pillaging the chÂteaux and estates of the marshal and his family:

“The last day of June [1635] Monsieur le Prince arrived in Paris, returning from his post of lieutenant-general of the King’s army in Lorraine. On his departure, he had left orders that my chÂteau of Bassompierre was to be demolished, and this was subsequently executed.”

The destruction of this chÂteau, which was situated near Briey, may, of course, have been an act of military necessity; but it was more probably one of pure spite, since, as we know, there was little love lost between the marshal and CondÉ.

“On the 12th January [1636], I received the sad news of the death of my niece, the nun of Remiremont;[143] and, a few days later, I learned that the King’s commissaries had carried off all the corn from my house of Harouel, and this, not only without payment, but without even giving a certificate that they had taken it.

“The month of February arrived, at the beginning of which I learned from Lorraine that a certain Sieur de Villarceaux[144] had a commission from the King to raze my house of Harouel to the ground. This I felt most cruelly, and I sent to entreat the Cardinal to avert this storm from me.”

Harouel was spared, though it is doubtful whether this was done out of any consideration for its unfortunate owner.

In the following May Bassompierre succeeded in obtaining an ordinance from the King for the restoration of his corn. But Gobelin, Intendant of Justice and Finance in Lorraine, who in the days of the marshal’s prosperity had been his intimate friend, protested against this; and it was finally decided that he should be allowed to keep it for the use of the army, nor was Bassompierre able to obtain any pecuniary compensation.

“And, afterwards, when it was mentioned to the Cardinal de Richelieu, he observed that it was very strange that I should ask money of the King for my corn, seeing that I was so rich that I was building a sumptuous house at Chaillot; that I was having such splendid furniture made that the King had nothing like it, and that during the six years I had been in prison I still maintained such great state that it was impossible to equal it.[145]

“A few days later, in the same month, the Duke of Weimar was authorised by the King to refresh his army in the county of Vaudemont and in my marquisate of Harouel, which was delivered over to pillage. This he executed so well, that every kind of plunder, cruelty, and atrocity was practised there, and my estate entirely destroyed, save the chÂteau, which could not be taken by this army, which had no artillery.

“At the end of the month of May the troops of the said Duke of Bernard of Weimar attacked our chÂteau of Removille, where five or six hundred peasants of both sexes and of every age had taken refuge. They carried it by assault on the 28th, and killed the men and the old women who were there, carried away the young women, after violating them, and, having pillaged the chÂteau, burned it with the children who were in it.”

In July of the following year the ChÂteau of Harouel, which had been occupied by the troops of the Duke of Lorraine, was bombarded by the King’s troops, and, after seventy cannon-shot had been fired at it, was surrendered to the French commander, who left a garrison of thirty soldiers there, to be maintained at Bassompierre’s expense.

In August, 1636, Bassompierre’s niece, Madame de Beuvron, went to the Cardinal to solicit her uncle’s liberty.

“But he answered her, in mockery, that I had been only three years in the Bastille and that M. d’AngoulÊme had been there fourteen; that the duke was returning very opportunely to give some good advice on the subject of my liberation. I omitted to mention that, at the alarm of the passage of the Somme,[146] MM. d’AngoulÊme, de la Rochefoucauld, M. de ValenÇay and other persons who had been exiled were recalled; but anger and hatred continued against me in such fashion, that, not only had they neither consideration nor compassion for my long sufferings, but, on the contrary, wished to increase them by this derision and mockery.”

It might be supposed that if, in these circumstances, Bassompierre had little to hope for, he had little to fear. Such, however, was not the case. Some notes written by him in the margin of a history of the reigns of Henri IV and Louis XIII, composed by the Historiographer Royal, Scipion Dupleix, the proofs of which are said to have been corrected by Richelieu himself, were published under his name, but entirely without his authority, by a monk named PÈre Renaud, the confessor of his fellow-prisoner the AbbÉ de Foix, to whom he had lent the copy containing them. The marshal’s criticisms were probably pretty stringent, but those which appeared in print were a great deal more so, and the work aroused a considerable sensation. Dupleix complained to the Cardinal, and, says Bassompierre, “they did not fail to report the matter to the King and to tell him that it appeared evident from these memoirs that I entertained an aversion to his person and State.”

About the same time, a soldier of the Light Cavalry named Valbois was arrested and brought to the Bastille, charged with having recited a sonnet against the Cardinal, beginning, ‘Mettre Bassompierre en prison;’ and the marshal was warned by his friends outside to destroy all his papers which might be capable of injuring him, as it was intended to seize them, with a view to bringing him to trial.

“I confess,” writes Bassompierre, “that this last warning, which followed so many unfortunate incidents, was almost sufficient to destroy my reason. It was the 9th of October [1637] that I received it. I passed six nights without closing an eye, and in an agony which was worse to me than death.”

Finally, however, Valbois, after being interrogated several times, probably with the object of ascertaining whether Bassompierre had had anything to do with the composition of the objectionable sonnet, was set at liberty, and, as no action was taken against him, the marshal’s mind became calmer. Nevertheless, he appears to have lived in constant apprehension lest his papers should be impounded; and this no doubt accounts for the fact that, in his MÉmoires, the composition of which were now his chief occupation, he exercises a rigorous discretion in his comments on current events, although he was kept informed by his friends of everything that was happening in the world outside. “I shall say nothing,” he writes naÏvely, as though to shelter himself from all reproach, “of the quarrel between the King and the Queen ... of the punishment of the nuns of the Val-de-GrÂce ... of the dismissal of the King’s confessor, PÈre Caussin ... nor, finally, of the entry of the Chancellor into the Val-de-GrÂce, where he caused the Queen’s cabinets and caskets to be broken open, in order to seize the papers which she had placed in them.”

Bassompierre did not confine his literary activity to his MÉmoires; he wrote also the history of his embassies to Spain, Switzerland, and England, which was first published in 1668. In 1802 an octavo volume, bearing the title of Nouveaux MÉmoires du MarÉchal de Bassompierre, recueillis par le prÉsident HÉnault et imprimÉs sur le manuscrit de cet acadÉmicien, appeared; but the best authorities on the period are agreed in regarding this work as apocryphal.

The years passed, and Bassompierre still remained in the Bastille. So far from uttering complaints, he sought rather, by his words and acts, to disarm the enmity of the all-powerful Minister. He protested vigorously whenever he learned that the malcontents or the enemies of Richelieu claimed him as one of their number; he lent his house at Chaillot to the Cardinal every time that he asked for it; and, what does him more honour, when in 1636 France was invaded, he offered to serve as a simple volunteer. All was useless. The most distinguished personages solicited his liberty; the poets interested themselves in his fate and attested by their verses a courageous gratitude for the favours which the marshal had bestowed upon them in the days of his prosperity. Richelieu remained deaf to all appeals.

“A rumour ran,” writes Bassompierre in 1638, “that the King had said to the Cardinal that he had it on his conscience to keep me so long a prisoner, and that, as there was nothing to allege against me, he could not detain me any longer. To which the Cardinal replied that, since the time of my being imprisoned, so many things had passed through his mind, that he could not now recollect the causes which had led the King to imprison me or him to advise it; but that he had them among his papers, and would look for them and show them to the King. I know not if this be true, but the rumour was current in Paris.”

It is little wonder that, if the question of his liberty, after more than eight years of detention, was treated in this fashion, the hapless victim of the vindictive Minister and the cold-hearted King was sometimes plunged into the depths of despair.

“I know not,” he writes, “whether those who conduct the King’s affairs hate me or wish to overwhelm me with affliction that they have detained me so long in the Bastille, where I can do nothing but pray to God that He will put an end to my long sufferings by my liberty or my death. What can I write concerning my life, since I pass it always in the same manner, save that from time to time some fatal accident happens to me?—For good fortune deserted me from the time I was deprived of my freedom.”

In this state of depression we can well understand the bitter grief which the death of a little dog, which was his constant companion, appears to have occasioned him:—

“There happened in the month of September [1639] an accident which is ridiculous merely to mention, and disgraceful for me to have taken to heart as I did, but which was much more insupportable to me than several others of more importance that have occurred to me in the course of my life. I had a little toy greyhound, called MÉdor, not more than six inches high, of a dun and white colour, the prettiest markings imaginable. He was the most beautiful, the liveliest, the most affectionate dog I have ever seen, a pup of my old bitch Diane, who had given birth to him about a year before her death, as though she had wished to leave me this consolation in my prison. It was certainly a very great one, for he afforded me much amusement and rendered my imprisonment more tolerable. I confess that I had conceived too great an affection for him. It happened that on Monday, the 12th of September, I ascended to the terrace of the Bastille with the Comtes de Cramail[147] and du Fargis, Madame de Gravelle,[148] and the Comte d’Estelan,[149] who had come to visit me that day, when a great, ugly black greyhound belonging to M. du Coudray, whom I always feared so much for my dog that I generally carried him in my arms when I knew that the other was on the terrace, started to play with him, and, in doing so, placed a paw on his little body in such fashion that he crushed his heart before my eyes. Assuredly, this accident crushed mine and distressed me to such a degree that I was sad for a very long while, and the memory of this poor beast torments my mind still.”

Bassompierre’s MÉmoires conclude in October, 1640, with a reference to the death in exile of his brother-in-law Charles de Lorraine, Duc de Guise, the news of which had just reached him and appears to have caused him much distress.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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