H. Noel Williams

Conditions of peace with the Huguenots decided upon—Refusal of the citizens of Montpellier to open their gates to the King until his army has been disbanded—Bullion advises Louis XIII to accede to their wishes, and is supported by the majority of the Council—Bassompierre is of the contrary opinion, and urges the King to reduce Montpellier to “entire submission and repentance”—Louis XIII decides to follow the advice of Bassompierre, and the siege of the town is begun—A disastrous day for the Royal army—Death of Zamet and the Italian engineer Gamorini—Political intrigues—Bassompierre succeeds in securing the post of Keeper of the Seals for Caumartin, although the King has already promised it to d’Aligre, the nominee of CondÉ—Heavy losses sustained by the besiegers in an attack upon one of the advanced-works—CondÉ quits the army and sets out for Italy—Bassompierre is created marshal of France amidst general acclamations—Peace is signed—Death of the AbbÉ RoucellaÏ—Bassompierre accompanies the King to Avignon, where he again falls of petechial fever, but recovers—He assists at the entry of the King and Queen into Lyons—He is offered the government of the Maine, but declines it.

The Royal army had now invested Montpellier, which Rohan was determined to defend to the last extremity, if he were unable to obtain a treaty for the whole body of his co-religionists; but it seemed as though peace would intervene to prevent further bloodshed. The Huguenots had abated many of their pretensions, and Louis XIII, on his side, was not disposed to press too hardly upon them. Affairs without were becoming more and more alarming; and if the Ultramontane party, blinded by religious hatred, desired to continue the war until the Protestants were entirely crushed, level-headed men saw with grief France rendered impotent abroad and a prey to civil strife to satisfy the bigotry of fanatics and the egoistic ambition of the Prince de CondÉ. LesdiguiÈres, who desired to terminate his career by the deliverance of Italy, resumed his negotiations with Rohan, and in an interview between them at Saint-Privat conditions of peace were decided upon. The King was prepared to sign the articles and to make his entry into Montpellier; but the inhabitants firmly refused to open their gates to him. If, said they, the King would withdraw with his army to a distance of ten leagues, they would admit the Constable with what forces he wished to enter, and a week hence, when his army had been disbanded, they would receive his Majesty with all possible magnificence.

Louis XIII at once summoned the council to consider the answer which Bullion had brought back, and after the latter had read it to those present, called upon him to give his opinion.

Bullion, who seems to have been a man of sound common-sense and had been a witness that morning of the genuine alarm with which the extravagant boasts of CondÉ had inspired the people of Montpellier, strongly urged the King to humour them and “to seek solid advantages, without allowing himself to be stopped by little formalities which are not essential.” “If,” said he, “the town of Montpellier were refusing you the obedience and submission which is your due, I should say that it is necessary to destroy and exterminate it. But it is a people alarmed and terrified by the threats which have been launched against them to plunder and destroy them, to violate their wives and daughters and to burn their houses, who entreats you in the name of God to receive its obedience through your Constable, who will enter, when you have withdrawn, with such forces as he pleases, to make your Majesty’s authority recognised there, which is the same thing as though you entered yourself. Why do you wish for a mere punctilio to refuse a peace so useful and honourable for your Majesty; and prefer to undertake a long war, of which the issue is doubtful and the expense excessive, in a country where the heat is immoderate, and to expose your own person to the injuries of war and of the season, when you can escape them without loss or blame?”

The King was visibly impressed by this excellent advice, and when CondÉ sprang to his feet and began angrily declaiming against Bullion and “the cabal which had forged this peace without the knowledge of the Council and were endeavouring to conclude it with disgrace and infamy,” he sternly bade him resume his seat, saying that he would have an opportunity of giving his opinion when his turn came.

Not improbably influenced by the attitude of the King, counsellor after counsellor rose and expressed his approval of the advice given by Bullion. When Bassompierre was called upon, CondÉ exclaimed impatiently: “I know his opinion already, and we can say of it ad idem.” To the general astonishment, however, Bassompierre was for once in accord with CondÉ, and advised the King to break off the negotiations forthwith and “show, by a noble and generous disdain, how deeply he was offended by the propositions of those of Montpellier.” “If,” said he, “your Majesty were before Strasbourg, Antwerp, or Milan, and were concluding a peace with the princes to which those towns belong, the stipulation that you should not enter them would be tolerable; but that a King of France, victorious and supported by a powerful army, in place of granting peace to a handful of his rebel subjects, without resource and reduced to extremity, should receive it from them on the disgraceful conditions which they have just proposed, is a proposition so insulting that it cannot be suffered nor even listened to.... The King who accepts those conditions must be prepared to receive terrible insults from the other towns, who will be rendered audacious by this example and assured of impunity by this unworthy toleration.... Sire, in the name of God, take a firm resolution and persevere in it, and insist even upon the ruin of this people, because it is rebellious, and because it is also insolent and impudent; or to reduce it to entire submission and complete repentance.”

He then pointed out that his own interests were opposed to the advice which he was offering the King, and that he was actuated entirely by regard for his Majesty’s service and honour, since he had already been promised the marshal’s bÂton and had nothing to gain at the siege of Montpellier, “save much toil, dangerous wounds and perhaps even death.” It was also possible that unfortunate accidents might arise which might oblige the King to defer his promotion to the office of marshal or even compel him [Bassompierre] to refuse the honour. “Nevertheless,” he concluded, “I shall take these risks, and I beg your Majesty very humbly to delay my reception [as marshal] until the town of Montpellier shall be reduced to its obedience, and your Majesty avenged of the affront which these rebels have desired to inflict upon you.”

There can be no doubt that Bassompierre, who was an honest man and a devoted servant of the Crown, was actuated by what he considered to be his duty in tendering this advice to his sovereign, which had touched Louis XIII on his weakest spot—his exaggerated regard for his own dignity. But it is equally certain that he had committed a disastrous mistake, both from a political and military point of view, in counselling the King to sacrifice the interests of his realm for what Bullion had rightly described as “a mere punctilio.” For, not only was an immediate peace of the most vital importance to the interests of France, both at home and abroad, but the reduction of the people of Montpellier to “entire submission and complete repentance” was a task which, in the most favourable circumstances, could not be effected except at immense expense and at the cost of hundreds of valuable lives. It is indeed amazing that, after the terrible lesson of Montauban, anyone could have been so rash as to embark upon another great siege for reasons so inadequate.

The siege began in anything but an auspicious manner. In the early hours of September 2, Bassompierre and Praslin advanced against the ridge of Saint-Denis, where the citadel now stands, and carried it without any resistance, since there was only a guard-house there, the occupants of which fled at their approach. Leaving ValenÇay there with some 1,500 men to hold it, they returned to camp, and, after attending a meeting of the Council, Bassompierre, who had to be up all the following night to superintend the opening of the trenches, went to his tent to snatch a few hours’ sleep. About midday, he was awakened by the sound of heavy firing, and, hurrying out, he saw the troops whom he and Praslin had left on the ridge of Saint-Denis in disorderly retreat, hotly pursued by the enemy.

It appears that ValenÇay, believing that there was no possibility of his being attacked in broad daylight, had not only neglected to entrench himself, but had even allowed his men to pile arms and scatter about the ridge; and, to crown all, had permitted a trumpeter from the town, who had been sent to demand the bodies of the dead, to approach without taking the precaution to order his eyes to be bandaged. On his return to Montpellier, this man duly reported what he had seen to his officers; and the garrison, sallying out in considerable force, fell upon the astonished ValenÇay and utterly routed him.

Springing on a horse, Bassompierre galloped off to the quarters of the Swiss Guards, who were the troops nearest the ridge of Saint-Denis, called them to arms and led them against the enemy. Meantime, the Duc de Montmorency, the young Duc de Fronsac and other nobles and gentlemen, who happened to be in attendance on the King, who had just finished dinner, had mounted the first horses they could find, and, with more valour than discretion, thrown themselves into the mÊlÉe, in a vain endeavour to rally the fugitives. Montmorency’s life was saved by d’Argencourt, the lieutenant-governor of Montpellier, who fortunately recognised him, and he escaped with a couple of not very serious wounds; but his companions perished almost to a man, amongst them being Fronsac, whom Bassompierre describes as “a young prince of great promise, who, in his opinion, would have been one day a great captain,” the Marquis de Beuvron, d’Auctot, who commanded CondÉ’s company of light horse and was a great favourite of the prince, and Luynes’s nephew Combalet, brother of the young lady whom Bassompierre would in all probability have married, had the late Constable lived a few months longer.[9]

However, Bassompierre had now brought up the Swiss, and before the advance of these veterans, the enemy, who had pursued the routed troops almost to the confines of the Royal camp, fell back into the town, and the ridge of Saint-Denis was recovered. But it had been a most disastrous day for the besiegers, for ValenÇay’s force had been terribly cut up and his best officers killed.

Next day, the defenders of Montpellier, encouraged by this success, made a determined attack on Montmorency’s troops, encamped to the west of the town, who gave way before them. Zamet,[10] who had taken over the command from the wounded duke, succeeded in rallying them and driving the enemy back. But almost immediately afterwards he was mortally wounded by a cannon-shot from the town, and died a few days later.

The trenches were opened without any further disasters, but very little progress was made, for the enemy stubbornly disputed every yard of ground. The Italian engineer Gamorini was killed on the 11th, and his death was a severe loss to the besiegers. The same night the defenders made a fierce sortie, which was not repulsed until the work of several days had been destroyed. During the fighting a captain of the Navarre Regiment named Des Champs was surrounded by the enemy and would have been killed, had he not cried out: “I am Bassompierre; I am worth 20,000 crowns to you!” Upon which they spared his life and made him prisoner, thinking that they had secured a valuable prize.

In the night of the 13th-14th, the besiegers attacked the advanced-works on the north side of the town in three places simultaneously, and carried them. This placed them in a favourable position for bringing their cannon to bear upon the main fortifications; but, on the advice of a young engineer named La Magne Chavannes, and notwithstanding the opposition of Bassompierre and other officers, CondÉ insisted that they should first concentrate their efforts against a ravelin situated between the two bastions. The task of approaching this work proved a most difficult one, as they were exposed to a heavy flanking fire from the town which repeatedly levelled their traverses, and to bombing-attacks, which did considerable execution; while one night the trenches were completely flooded by a violent storm.

Meantime, the generals were devoting what time they could spare from their military duties to political intrigue. The Cardinal de Retz had died at the end of August, and the Keeper of the Seals, De Vic, in the first days of September, and their deaths had greatly weakened CondÉ’s party. He and Schomberg succeeded in replacing the former in the Council by their friend the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld, and thus contrived to exclude Richelieu, though they could not prevent him being recommended for the vacant cardinal’s hat, which was immediately solicited for him by the Queen-Mother. CondÉ then pressed the King to confer the post of Keeper of the Seals upon d’Aligre, a Counsellor of State who was devoted to his interests, and would appear to have extracted a promise from his Majesty that he should be appointed. At any rate, when retiring to rest on the night of September 21, the King had told the courtiers who were present that it was his intention to make d’Aligre Keeper of the Seals, and they had informed CondÉ.

Next morning, flushed with success and convinced that he was on the point of triumphing over his enemies and dominating both the King and the State, CondÉ sent RoucellaÏ to Bassompierre with what amounted to an ultimatum. As Bassompierre was entering the King’s quarters, with Praslin, to attend a meeting of the Council, the abbÉ drew him aside and informed him that he had a communication of great importance to make to him on behalf of Monsieur le Prince, and that he desired to speak before Praslin.

After assuring Bassompierre that he was deeply sensible of the obligations under which he had placed him,[11] and that, in return, he had done everything in his power to secure for him the good will of CondÉ, RoucellaÏ declared that, despite all his efforts and those of his friends, Monsieur le Prince was as ill-satisfied with him as he could well be, and was convinced that, not only did he prefer Puisieux’s friendship to his, but had actually assisted that Minister to prejudice his Majesty’s mind against him. He had therefore charged him to offer Bassompierre once more his entire friendship, provided that he were willing to abandon that of Puisieux; and he required an answer that very day, as he declined to wait any longer. And the abbÉ entreated him to accept his patron’s offer and so escape the disastrous consequences which would inevitably follow a refusal.

“M. d’Aligre,” said he, “will be to-morrow Keeper of the Seals, and he and M. de Schomberg, closely united with Monsieur le Prince, will not only ruin M. de Puisieux, but also all his abettors and adherents, of whom you are the chief. I wished to tell you this before the MarÉchal de Praslin, who loves you as a father, and who will be my witness that I have striven to avert from your head the storm which I perceive ready to burst upon it. For assuredly these three persons united together will possess the State, and will exalt or abase whomsoever they please.”

Bassompierre then went back to RoucellaÏ and told him that “neither threats nor disgrace were able to make him abandon his friends, but, on the contrary, served only to bind him more closely to them,” and that “though he should always be Monsieur le Prince’s very humble servant, he would never do anything unworthy of himself to acquire his good graces.”

Meantime, Praslin had confirmed what Bassompierre had told the King and contrived to anger him still more against CondÉ and Schomberg; and his Majesty told Bassompierre that he would discuss the matter with him after dinner, when he would decide what must be done.

When the Council rose, Puisieux came up to Bassompierre and said: “The matter is decided; d’Aligre is Keeper of the Seals.” Bassompierre replied that he would believe it when he saw it; and that, meantime, he did not intend to worry about the matter. The Minister, however, declined to be comforted and went away, looking very disconsolate. Louis XIII then spoke to Bassompierre, and told him that he feared that he would be obliged to make d’Aligre Keeper of the Seals, as there was no one else who possessed all the necessary qualifications for so important a post. Bassompierre replied that his Majesty was doing an injustice to Caumartin, one of the oldest Counsellors of State, who had been entrusted in his time with several embassies and other important commissions, of which he had acquitted himself with credit. The King objected that Caumartin stammered, as he did himself, and that, as it was one of the duties of the Keeper of the Seals to prompt his sovereign when he was making a speech, this would entail serious inconvenience. “The man who ought to assist me when I am speaking,” said he, “will require someone to speak for him!”

However, Bassompierre waited in the King’s chamber until his Majesty returned from dinner, when, finding that he was much incensed at CondÉ’s presumption, he skilfully fanned the flame and then again proposed Caumartin to him, pointing out that, if at the end of three months the King found that he was incapable of discharging the duties of his post to his satisfaction, he could call for his resignation.

After some hesitation, the King told him that he had decided to give the Seals to Caumartin, and would inform him of it when he came to the Council on the following morning, but until then he should say nothing about the matter to anyone. The battle, however, was not yet won, for Louis was so easily influenced that if CondÉ were to see him in the interval, he would probably have no more difficulty in persuading him to break the promise he had just given Bassompierre than Bassompierre had had to induce him to break the promise he had given CondÉ. Aware of this, Bassompierre determined to get his Majesty to commit himself in writing, and demanded permission “to send a note on his behalf to console by this good news M. de Puisieux, who had gone to his lodging stricken to the heart.” To this the King consented, provided that Puisieux should be enjoined to keep the affair secret; and Bassompierre, taking Louis’s escritoire, which was on the table, wrote the letter and then begged the King to add a few words in his own hand. And his Majesty wrote at the foot: “I confirm this note.”

In order to get the King to commit himself still further, Bassompierre then asked if he would permit him to write to Caumartin, to which Louis, after making some little difficulty, also consented.

It was well that Bassompierre had taken these precautions, for, next morning, CondÉ, having learned what was in the wind, came to the King to inquire whether there were any truth in a report that had reached him that his Majesty intended to make Caumartin Keeper of the Seals. Louis, greatly embarrassed, assured him that it was without foundation, and he returned the same answer to several other persons whom the prince had put up to question him on the matter. It is probable, indeed, that had he not been persuaded to commit himself in regard to Caumartin, CondÉ’s candidate would, after all, have got the Seals. As it was, he had gone too far to draw back, and, to the intense mortification of Monsieur le Prince, he that afternoon gave them to Caumartin.

The appointment of Caumartin in place of his own nominee, notwithstanding the promise which Louis XIII had given him, was a serious rebuff to the presumptuous CondÉ, nor did he succeed any better in his military than in his political operations. On October 2, against the advice of Bassompierre, he gave orders that an attempt should be made to carry the ravelin by assault. It failed, and the besieged retaliated by a furious sortie on the flank of the Royal troops, which one of the latter’s own mines had laid open, and compelled them to abandon their trenches. Through the united efforts of Bassompierre[12] and d’Épernon, the enemy were driven back, but the losses had been heavy, and included a number of officers. Montpellier was threatening to become a second Montauban.

A few days later, LesdiguiÈres, who had returned to his government of DauphinÉ before the siege began, arrived in the Royal camp, at the head of considerable reinforcements. The Constable came ostensibly to take command of the operations, but his real object was to resume his negotiations for peace, which Louis XIII had, unknown to CondÉ, authorised him to do. The prince, deprived of his command and perceiving that peace was about to be concluded, despite all his efforts to prevent it, comprehended that his favour was at an end, and, in high dudgeon, quitted the army and set out for Italy, on the pretext of acquitting himself of a vow which he made during his imprisonment to perform a pilgrimage to the shrine of Our Lady of Loretto.

The following morning (October 14), the terms of peace having been agreed upon, Rohan was permitted to pass through the camp and enter Montpellier, in order to persuade the citizens to accept the conditions, which included the admission of a Royal garrison into the town.

On the morning of the 12th, Bassompierre came to the King’s quarters to attend a meeting of the Council. It seemed to him that the King, who was in his aviary, did not look at him as kindly as usual, nor did he address him. Presently, his Majesty requested the members of the Council to follow him into his chamber, and told the Cardinal de la Vallette and Chevreuse, d’Elbeuf and VendÔme, who had come to pay him their respects, that he desired their presence also.

It was a fitting tribute to a very brave man and a most capable officer, who had most thoroughly earned the high honour which had just been conferred upon him.

The same night the authorities of Montpellier sent to inform Louis XIII of their acceptance of the terms of peace, and on the 18th the ratification was brought to the King. The King signed the edict which put an end to this miserable war which had cost France so dear on the following day,[13] and CrÉquy and Bassompierre with the French and Swiss Guards took possession of the town. His Majesty made his entry on the 20th, and “all was as peaceable as if there had never been a war.”

On the 22nd, RoucellaÏ, who had been very ill for some days with petechial fever, sent an earnest request for Bassompierre to come to him. He went and found the unfortunate abbÉ almost at his last gasp, and he had only just time to confide his papers to Bassompierre, with directions to burn all those which he thought advisable, then he died. As RoucellaÏ had been one of the most inveterate intriguers of his time, these papers must have furnished interesting reading, and have contained the wherewithal to set the whole Court by the ears. It was just as well, therefore, that Bassompierre had authority to destroy them.

On the 27th, Louis XIII left Montpellier and two or three days later made his entry into Arles, “where for the first time,” says Bassompierre, “I marched in my quality of marshal of France, immediately before the King, on the left of the MarÉchal de Praslin.”

From Arles Bassompierre was despatched with the greater part of the army to reduce some small places from which the Sieur de Brison, a Huguenot chief who had refused to make his submission, was pillaging the surrounding country. This he successfully accomplished, and towards the middle of November rejoined the King at Lyons. On the way thither he spent a night at Valence, “where he found M. de Lusson (sic), who had been nominated cardinal and was on his way to receive the hat from the King.”[14] From Lyons he accompanied Louis XIII to Avignon, where the King received a visit from Charles Emmanuel of Savoy, who came to lay the basis of a treaty between France, Savoy and Venice, which was signed at Paris on February 7 of the following year, and which had for its object to compel Spain to execute the Treaty of Madrid and to restore the Valtellina to the Grisons.

On the day following the Duke of Savoy’s arrival, the marshal was taken ill while attending a play given in honour of the King at the Jesuit College. His illness developed into another attack of petechial fever, though happily not in so severe a form as the one he had had after the siege of Montauban. However, it kept him at Avignon for a fortnight and prevented him from accompanying the King to Grenoble, though he was well enough to assist at their Majesties’ entry into Lyons, which took place on December 12 and would appear to have rivalled in magnificence that of Henri II and Catherine de’ Medici into the same city in 1548, though on this occasion there was no Diane de Poitiers present to dispute the honours with the Queen of France and give piquancy to the ceremony.

The entry was followed by a week of balls, banquets, theatrical performances, and displays of fireworks, all of which festivities were no doubt much appreciated by the marshal after so many months of war’s alarms, capped by a severe illness, and all the more, since, he tells us, in the course of them he was reconciled to a fair lady—her name is not recorded—from whom he had had the misfortune to be estranged.

Louis XIII left Lyons to return to Paris on December 19. At La CharitÉ, where he spent Christmas, news arrived of the death of the Prince de GuÉmÉnÉ, governor of the Maine, and the King offered the vacant office to Bassompierre. The marshal, however, declined it, on the ground that he desired “to receive his [the King’s] favours and benefits at such intervals that the King should be praised for his kindness and he himself for his modesty, and that, as only two months had elapsed since he had honoured him with the office of marshal of France, if he were to make him so soon governor of a province, people would talk about it.” We are, however, inclined to think that the real reason of his refusal was his disinclination to leave the Court—for the governor of a province was obliged to reside there for several months in each year—partly owing to the attraction which court life had for him, and partly because he knew that to retain the favour of a king like Louis XIII it was necessary to be with him constantly.