Before proceeding to Nancy, Bassompierre paid a visit to his younger brother, now Marquis de Removille, and his family at Mirecourt, and spent a day at his own chÂteau of Harouel. On March 3 he made his entry into Nancy, escorted by a great number of the nobility of Lorraine, who were assembled there for the meeting of the Estates, and was lodged in the Palace, where he was very hospitably entertained. Amongst those whom he met was the Prince de Phalsbourg, a natural son of the late Cardinal Louis de Guise, who gave a banquet in his honour, and Marguerite de Lorraine, youngest daughter of Duke FranÇois, who in 1632 became the second wife of Monsieur.

His mission, which related to the candidature of Charles IV’s younger brother for the bishopric of Strasbourg, was soon discharged, and on March 16 he reached Paris, after an absence of four months. Louis XIII received him very graciously, and took him to visit the Queen-Mother, and afterwards to the apartments of Anne of Austria, whose position since her little escapade with Buckingham had been far from a pleasant one, her royal husband treating her with the most marked coldness.

At the Court Bassompierre found the Prince de Piedmont, who had been sent by his father, Charles Emmanuel, to persuade Louis XIII to prosecute the war in Italy with the utmost vigour during the coming spring. CrÉquy had been despatched to Paris by the Constable with the same object; and they begged Bassompierre to go with them so soon as possible to the King, when they hoped that their united solicitations would induce his Majesty to come to a decision in accordance with their wishes.

There was certainly every indication that the French Government were disposed to a vigorous offensive. At the beginning of February peace had been signed with the Huguenots, and they were now free to employ all their resources against the foreign enemy. The King had appointed the Prince of Piedmont lieutenant-general of his armies beyond the Alps, and had promised reinforcements of 8,000 foot and 1,000 horse to the Army of Italy, to which he intended to send the bulk of the troops now in the Valtellina; while Bassompierre, with the levy which the Swiss cantons had promised, was, it was understood, to invade the Milanese. However, the hopes of the anti-Spanish party and of France’s allies were about to be rudely shattered.

Two or three days after Bassompierre’s return, he happened to visit the Venetian Ambassador, Contarini, who told him that the republic’s representative at Madrid had sent information that a secret treaty had been signed there between France and Spain. The marshal affected to treat the matter as a canard and assured him that it was impossible; nevertheless, he felt decidedly uneasy, and having to go and see Richelieu that evening to give him an account of his mission to Switzerland, he told him what Contarini had said.

Bassompierre left the Prince and proceeded to the Queen’s apartments, where he found CrÉquy. Presently, a message came from Louis XIII summoning the two marshals to the Queen-Mother’s cabinet, where they found the King in company with Marie de’ Medici, Schomberg, and d’Herbault.[30] To their astonishment, the King informed them that he had just received a treaty which had been made with Spain, without his knowledge, by Du Fargis, and ordered d’Herbault to read it to them. This document stipulated that the sovereignty of the Valtellina was to be restored to the Grisons, but it was to be confined to a simple right of tribute, with a confirmation purely nominal of the magistrates whom the Valtelliners might appoint; while the Catholic religion was alone to be permitted in that country. The passes were to remain at the disposal of France, but the forts were to be surrendered to the Pope to be demolished. The Kings of France and Spain were to intervene to re-establish peace between Savoy and Genoa.

Louis XIII told the three marshals[31] and d’Herbault to go on the following morning to the Petit-Luxembourg and confer with Richelieu, and to return with the Cardinal in the afternoon to the Queen-Mother’s cabinet, where a meeting of the Council was to be held. Meanwhile, they were to say nothing about the matter to the Prince de Piedmont.

Bassompierre tells us that “never was he more provoked to speak against anything than against this infamous treaty”, and that “his mind was so excited, that he was more than two hours in bed without being able to get to sleep, projecting a number of reasons which he wished to lay before the Council on the morrow against this affair.” But, when he rose in the morning, he reflected that perhaps, notwithstanding the King’s protestations to the contrary, he might have given authority to Du Fargis to sign the treaty, under the influence of the Queen-Mother, “who wished to make peace between her children,”[32] or of the cardinal, “who, seeing troubles increasing within the State, wished to make peace outside it,” and that, if they intended to ratify it, he would be only injuring himself to no purpose by denouncing it too warmly. He therefore decided to be on his guard and to watch carefully which way the wind was blowing; and when he went to see Richelieu, he “listened more than he spoke.” He did wisely, for “the Cardinal was very cautious and opened his mind but little, blaming only the levity, precipitation, and want of judgment shown by Du Fargis, who, he said, merited capital punishment for having concluded an affair of such consequence without instructions from the King.” It was the same at the Council, where “he perceived that everyone was more concerned to blame the workman than to demolish the work, and to discuss the means by which the treaty might be amended than to propose to disavow or break it.” This removed any doubt that he might have had that the Government desired peace with Spain, and that Du Fargis, though he had not obtained the terms desired, had been empowered to treat for it. He therefore begged the King to excuse him from expressing an opinion, and withdrew, as, being an honest man, he refused to associate himself with a treaty whose existence Richelieu had only the previous evening authorised him to deny.

Richelieu, both at the time and afterwards, declared positively that this peace was not of his making. This, in a sense, is true. It was PÈre BÉrulle, of the Oratory, who had some time before become the directeur of the Queen-Mother’s conscience, and the Spanish faction to whom the credit—or rather discredit—of it belonged. It was they who had instigated Du Fargis to begin negotiations with the Court of Madrid, and it was the hope of striking a better bargain with this irresponsible diplomatist that had caused Philip suddenly to revoke the powers which he had given to Mirabello, his Ambassador in France. But when the treaty, which had been signed on New Year’s Day, 1626, reached Paris in the middle of January, Du Fargis was not recalled or disavowed. The matter was

kept a profound secret, and instructions were sent to the Ambassador to press for certain amendments. New articles were signed by Du Fargis at the beginning of March, and it was these which were now under discussion. The treaty, with some further modifications, was finally signed at Monzon on May 2.

If therefore this peace, which, to all appearance, reversed Richelieu’s whole policy, was not of the Cardinal’s making, he accepted and adopted it, with cynical contempt for the allies of France, Venice, Savoy, and the Grisons, who found themselves treated, not as confederates but as vassals, whose interests might be dealt with without the necessity of consulting them. Richelieu’s excuse was that Charles Emmanuel would undoubtedly have insisted on the negotiations being broken off had he been informed of them.

The astonishment and indignation in London, Venice, Turin, and among the Grisons was extreme. The Venetians and the Grisons had too much need of France not to accept the explanations which Richelieu offered them; but Charles Emmanuel, deceived in his ambitious hopes at the moment when he believed that they were about to be realised, conceived against the Cardinal the most bitter resentment. As for Buckingham, who had brought strong pressure to bear on the Huguenots to induce them to make peace, and was pluming himself on having thereby deprived France of any excuse for not vigorously prosecuting the war against Spain, he felt himself cheated and outwitted, and his vanity was as deeply wounded as was the Duke of Savoy’s ambition.

Imperative motives had, however, imposed peace upon Richelieu. For the security of the Crown and the eventual liberty of Europe, it was absolutely necessary for him to extricate himself from foreign embarrassments with the least possible delay. He was convinced, as Bassompierre suspected, that obstacles within the State must be overcome before France could actively embark upon enterprises outside it. Any really effective action against the House of Austria was, in his judgment, impossible, so long as the Huguenots remained a great faction, ready to profit by the embarrassments of the Government to hinder its operations, and while the grandees, on their side, were thwarting openly, or by secret intrigues, the royal authority.

For the conspiracies of the Court had not contributed less than the revolt of the Huguenots to determine him to make peace. A formidable cabal threatened his power and even his life.

As the favour of Richelieu increased, so did the aristocratic opposition to him gather strength. The grandees of the kingdom were indignant that a Minister should presume to govern in the general interest, instead of in their own, and made ready to draw the sword, if need be, against him as they had against Concini and Luynes. Conspiracy and revolt were in the air, and men and women caballed incessantly, “persuaded that the Cardinal was not a dangerous enemy and that they had nothing to fear from him.”

For some time past Marie de’ Medici had been anxious for the marriage of her younger son, Gaston, Duc d’Anjou, officially styled Monsieur, now in his eighteenth year, a lively, frivolous, dissipated youth, who, when the shades of evening fell, loved nothing better than to escape from the Louvre and scour the streets in search of adventure. Gaston presented a striking contrast to his austere, melancholy, and parsimonious brother, but since his vices were such as the courtiers loved and profited by, he was as popular with them as the King was the reverse; and it was an open secret that the majority of them looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to the not unlikely event of his succession to the throne.

The lady whom the Queen-Mother had chosen as a wife for Gaston was Marie de Bourbon, Mlle. de Montpensier, only daughter of the late Duc de Bourbon-Montpensier, a lively and attractive princess and the richest heiress in France. Richelieu, after some hesitation, decided for the match, influenced, it would seem, by the reflection that, if Monsieur were ever so ill-advised as to raise the standard of revolt, there would be no foreign alliance for him to rely upon. Louis XIII expressed his approval, and nothing remained but to obtain the consent of Gaston.

And then the trouble began.

For various reasons the idea of the marriage was regarded with disapproval by quite a number of illustrious persons. The young Comte de Soissons, who wanted Mlle. de Montpensier for himself, was furiously indignant, declaring that Marie de’ Medici had promised him the lady’s hand during her regency; and his mother, the ambitious and meddlesome Anne de MontafiÉ, supported his pretensions. The CondÉs naturally desired to see Monsieur remain unmarried, since he alone stood before them in the line of succession. The younger branches of the House of Guise viewed with jealousy the increased importance which the head of their family, who had married the widowed Duchesse de Montpensier, would derive from the elevation of his step-daughter. Finally, Anne of Austria, who had no children, saw in this alliance the last blow to her hopes, for, if her sister-in-law became a mother, she would efface her altogether. She accordingly determined “to do everything she could to stop the marriage,”[33] and applied to her customary confidante, the Duchesse de Chevreuse, for her advice and co-operation. That lady, the most inveterate and dangerous intrigante of her time, responded with all the energy of her character and forthwith began to pull the strings in every direction. Such was the origin of an affair which began by being merely an intrigue of the Court, and which ended by becoming, according to the saying of Richelieu, “one of the most frightful conspiracies of which histories have made mention.”

The object of Anne of Austria and Madame de Chevreuse was to persuade Monsieur to refuse the bride who was offered him. Well, Monsieur had all his life his favourites for masters, and to persuade him it was necessary to gain a man who at that time was in possession of his confidence, and almost of his person, his gouverneur, the Surintendant of his Household, and the chief of his Council—the MarÉchal d’Ornano. It was therefore to him that they addressed themselves.

Ornano had, as we have mentioned elsewhere, been disgraced and imprisoned by La Vieuville, on a well-founded charge of developing ambition in his pupil. But, when Richelieu succeeded to the control of affairs, he was set at liberty, and restored to his offices, and at the beginning of 1626 created a marshal of France, in the hope of inducing him to lend his support to the Montpensier marriage. Richelieu, then, might reasonably have expected some gratitude from Ornano; but, unfortunately, gratitude found no place in the Corsican’s nature. Bold and ambitious, he urged without ceasing the vain and foolish young prince over whom he had acquired so great an ascendancy to assert his claims to the place in the State to which his birth entitled him. When Monsieur demanded a place in the Council, he demanded to accompany him, with the rank and title of Secretary of State; and the refusal he received had greatly incensed him against Richelieu, and determined him to seek some means of compassing the overthrow of the Minister who had thwarted his ambition.

Madame de Chevreuse had long been on friendly terms with Ornano, who had owed his fortune largely to the good offices of her first husband; and she was aware of the grudge which he cherished against Richelieu. She therefore anticipated little difficulty in gaining him over to the Queen’s cause; but, in order to leave nothing to chance, she summoned to her aid the Princesse de CondÉ, of whom Ornano, undaunted by the fact that he was “the ugliest man possible to imagine,” was a soupirant. The blandishments of Madame la Princesse served to dissipate any lingering scruples which the marshal might have entertained; he declared himself a devoted servant of the Queen, and promised to do everything in his power to dissuade Monsieur from making Mlle. de Montpensier his wife.

In this task he did not lack coadjutors, and every day the “Conspiration des Dames,” as the anti-marriage cabal was called, gathered fresh adherents. The Dowager-Comtesse de Soissons was beloved by Alexandre de VendÔme, Grand Prior of France, the younger of Henri IV’s two sons by Gabrielle d’EstrÉes, an unquiet spirit, with a positive passion for mischievous intrigue, who nursed a grudge of his own against Richelieu. She had no difficulty in persuading him to join the conspiracy, and the Grand Prior, in his turn and with equal facility, secured the adhesion of his elder brother, the Duc de VendÔme. The gay and foolhardy young courtiers—Du Lude, La RiviÈre, Louvigny, Puylaurens, Bois-d’Annemetz and others—who surrounded Monsieur, espoused the same cause, either from dislike of the Cardinal, or from the hope that a breach between their patron and the King might redound to their advantage.

Every imaginable argument was employed to dissuade Monsieur from a marriage which threatened so many interests. They appealed in turn to his love of pleasure, his vanity, and his ambition. They pointed out that the joyous, irresponsible life which he had led hitherto would no longer be possible when he had taken unto himself a wife, since the King would then insist on his conducting himself with decorum. They deplored the docility which gave him the air of being a child in the hands of his mother, his brother, and the Cardinal, and urged him to assert his independence by refusing to allow a wife to be chosen for him. They reminded him that, although Mlle. de Montpensier was undoubtedly a great heiress, she was one of his brother’s subjects, and that in marrying her he would fall into greater subjection than ever to the King’s authority; and they dangled before his eyes the prospect of a brilliant foreign alliance, such as that with the Infanta Maria Anna, formerly the betrothed of Charles I.

The Duchesse de Chevreuse was indefatigable in her efforts to secure recruits for the cause, and made use of all her charms to overcome their scruples. She was but too successful.

There was at this time in the King’s Household, and very near his Majesty’s person, in virtue of his office as Master of the Wardrobe, a young noble of twenty-seven, Henri de Talleyrand, Comte de Chalais, a member of an ancient sovereign house of PÉrigord and, through his mother, a grandson of the MarÉchal de Montluc, author of the celebrated Commentaries to which Henri IV gave the name of “The Soldier’s Bible.” “M. de Chalais,” writes Fontenay-Mareuil, “was young, well-made, very adroit at all manly exercises, but, above all, very agreeable, which rendered him a favourite with the ladies, who ruined him.” Brave to rashness, he had distinguished himself on both the field of battle and that of honour, and a duel he had fought with the Comte de Pontgibault, in which the latter had been killed, was long talked of. Chalais was so fortunate as to be a favourite of both the King and his brother, which would make his support of peculiar value to the cabal, since he would be able to add his persuasions to theirs to induce Monsieur to refuse the hand of Mlle. de Montpensier, and, at the same time, serve their interests with the King by misleading him as to the intentions of the malcontents. It was considered, however, very improbable that he could be persuaded to follow Monsieur’s fortunes, since he was known to “ambition” the post of Colonel of the Light Cavalry, and to have an excellent chance of securing it. But, unhappily for Chalais, there was something that he desired still more than the command of the Light Cavalry: he had been for some time past madly enamoured of Madame de Chevreuse, and when that siren, who had not as yet condescended to accept his devotion, began to show signs of relenting, it was all over with him; and, oblivious of everything but this fatal passion, the unfortunate young man allowed her to lead him whither she willed. The consequence was that, before he had fully realised his position, he found himself drawn into the very thick of the conspiracy which was to bring him to his doom.

Madame de Chevreuse and Ornano were the soul of this league, which was becoming extremely formidable, from the importance of the persons implicated and the far-reaching character of their schemes. For the coalition against the marriage of Monsieur was only the starting-point of a conspiracy which aimed at a complete change in the Government, and whose ramifications extended far beyond the borders of France. Several of the foreign ambassadors had entered it, and it was known and more or less approved in England, Spain, Holland, and Savoy. The conspirators were determined to demand for Gaston and Ornano the entry to the Council, and afterwards to insist on the disgrace of Richelieu. If they failed, it was their intention to persuade Monsieur to retire from Court, to take up arms and to appeal for foreign and Huguenot aid. In the event of revolt, the most resolute proposed that the Cardinal should be assassinated—a suggestion which was warmly supported by the AbbÉ Scaglia, the ambassador of Savoy.

Richelieu, though he had eyes and ears everywhere at his service, had not yet received more than vague warnings as to the designs of his enemies. However, these had been sufficient for him to divine that some plot hostile to the existing order of things was in progress, and that Monsieur was concerned in it.

Immediately after Easter the Court quitted Paris for Fontainebleau. On the morrow of its arrival, Monsieur had an interview with the King, in which he declared that “it was a reproach and a shame to him that, being his Majesty’s brother, he had neither share nor influence in affairs of State.” He then demanded a seat in the Council and, at the same time, angrily declined the hand of Mlle. de Montpensier, on the ground that “a foreign alliance was necessary for his honour and prosperity.” The King replied that he would consider his request and give him an answer in a few days. The young prince waited for three or four, and then sent Ornano to complain to Richelieu, but could get nothing more satisfactory from his Eminence than that he was “the humble servant of Monsieur.” In high indignation, Gaston sought out his mother and announced his intention of quitting the Court. Marie soothed him by the promise that the Council should meet to consider his demands, and he agreed to await its decision.

Meanwhile, Louis XIII had consulted Richelieu, who did not fail to stimulate his resentment against the pretensions that had been suggested to his brother, and warned him that “in the matter of conspiracies, it was almost impossible to have mathematical proofs, and that when the circumstances were pressing, presumption ought to take their place.” The arrest of Ornano was then decided upon.

On May 4 the King announced his intention of reviewing his Guards that afternoon in the Cour du Cheval Blanc, “to give pleasure to the Queens and Princesses,” who were to witness the spectacle from the Grand Gallery of the ChÂteau. After dinner, Bassompierre, who was going to Paris for a day or two “to stop one of his nieces de Saint-Luc from becoming a nun,” went to take leave of the King, who suggested that he had better wait and see the review; but the marshal, who was in a hurry to be gone, excused himself. Early on the following morning, however, he was awakened by the arrival of a gentleman named Bonnevaut, whom Louis had sent to inform him that he had caused Ornano to be arrested and to request him to return that day to Fontainebleau without fail.

With that dissimulation which he loved to display on such occasions, Louis XIII had invited Ornano to witness the review and treated him with unusual condescension. Afterwards, he had invited him to walk with him in the Cour du Cheval Blanc, and, as though by chance, pointed out to him the chamber where the MarÉchal de Biron had been temporarily confined after his arrest in 1602. That night Ornano was himself arrested and conducted to the same apartment.

At the first news of the arrest of Ornano, which was brought to him just after he had retired for the night Monsieur, beside himself with indignation, hurriedly dressed and proceeded to the King’s apartments to demand the immediate release of the marshal. He was told that his Majesty could not be disturbed, and the same answer awaited him when he went to the Queen-Mother.

On the morrow he went in search of the Ministers. The first whom he found was the Chancellor, d’Aligre, who, intimidated by the anger of the prince, assured him that he had nothing to do with the arrest of the marshal. But when he addressed himself to Richelieu and inquired furiously: “Is it you who have dared to give this counsel to the King?” he was met with the laconic reply: “Yes, it is I.” D’Aligre was promptly disgraced for his feebleness, and the Seals given to Marillac. Ornano was transferred to the ChÂteau of Vincennes, and his two brothers, his friend Chaudebonne and the Comte de ModÈne and DÉageant were also arrested and conveyed to the Bastille.

On his return to Fontainebleau, Bassompierre went to visit Monsieur, even before seeing the King, “so much was he assured of the confidence which his Majesty reposed in him.” He found the prince “very exasperated and influenced by sundry evil minds,” and took the liberty of speaking to him very frankly indeed. Gaston appeared to take the lecture in good part, and, by the King’s wish, Bassompierre continued his visits and his admonitions. But, after three or four days, he learned from Marie de’ Medici that Monsieur suspected that it was intended to give him the marshal as his gouverneur in place of the captive Ornano, and had said that he did not desire to have one. Upon which Bassompierre ceased his visits, “wishing to show by keeping away from him that he by no means aspired to that charge.” This was most unfortunate, as it left the young prince entirely under the influence of the “evil minds” of which the marshal speaks.

The unexpected arrest of Ornano had fallen like a thunderbolt on the heads of the conspirators. They foresaw that if the marshal were brought to trial, not only would their designs be discovered, but even their persons be in danger, since he was not the kind of man who could be trusted to prefer death to dishonour. They therefore urged Monsieur to make every endeavour to procure the release of his gouverneur, and, if he failed, as they fully expected he would do, to take one of two courses: the first was to leave the Court, retire into some fortified place and call his supporters to arms; the second, to get rid of the Cardinal.

As Louis XIII and Richelieu refused to hear of the release of Ornano, and Gaston, although the Comte de Soissons offered to furnish him with a very large sum of money if he would retire from Court and declare war, hesitated to take so irrevocable a step, the Grand Prieur de VendÔme, Chalais and others, prevailed upon him to choose the second of these alternatives.

Richelieu was staying at the ChÂteau of Fleury, a country-seat of his, situated about two leagues from Fontainebleau. Gaston, feigning a desire to be reconciled to him, was to invite himself to dinner and arrive accompanied by a strong party of his friends. What was to follow is disputed. Most writers, including Bassompierre,[34] assert that it was the intention of the conspirators to demand the release of Ornano, and, if that were refused, to assassinate their host out of hand; and Richelieu always maintained that his own death would have been followed by the assassination or dethronement of the King. A more sober version of the affair attributes to the conspirators no more sinister design than that of making the Cardinal their prisoner and subsequently exchanging him for Ornano, though, even if this be correct, it might well have had a tragic sequel. Whatever the object of the plot, there can be no possible doubt that Madame de Chevreuse was privy to it, if not its prime instigator; and it can therefore be regarded as a singular illustration of the irony of Fate that the indiscretion of the most devoted of her admirers should have been the means of bringing it to naught.

Chalais had a friend, the Commandeur de ValenÇay, a younger brother of that ValenÇay whose carelessness after the capture of the ridge of Saint-Denis at Montpellier had entailed so much loss of life, and to this gentleman, on the eve of the execution of the plot, he was imprudent enough to disclose it. He believed that he would find in him a sympathetic listener, since, though he had not yet declared himself, he had always appeared well disposed towards the cause. But, to his consternation, ValenÇay, either from the hope of gaining the Cardinal’s favour or from genuine disgust, professed the utmost horror and indignation; “reproached him with his treason, in that being one of his Majesty’s own Household he dared to make an attempt upon the person of his first Minister,” and insisted that Chalais should forthwith accompany him to Fleury and warn Richelieu of the danger which threatened him. Chalais, in despair, obeyed, and assured the Cardinal that he had always abhorred the plot and resolved to denounce it. Richelieu believed, or affected to believe, him, and when he offered to reveal to his Eminence any further intrigues against him, accepted his services and promised to obtain for him the coveted post of Colonel of the Light Cavalry.

The Cardinal sent ValenÇay to Fontainebleau to inform Louis XIII and the Queen-Mother; and the King at once despatched a troop of horse to Fleury for the protection of his Minister; while Marie de’ Medici sent the gentlemen of her Household. At dawn a number of Gaston’s officers arrived at Fleury, ostensibly, to announce the approaching arrival of their master and to assist in preparing for his reception; in reality, to serve as the advance-guard of the conspirators. His Eminence received them very courteously, expressed his sense of the honour which the prince proposed to do him, and then, ordering his coach, set out for Fontainebleau, accompanied by more than a hundred horse, “to escort his Royal Highness.”

His Royal Highness was considerably astonished when the Cardinal presented himself at his levÉe that morning, and mildly reproached him with not having given him longer notice of the visit with which it was his intention to honour him. In order to avert suspicion as to his destination, Monsieur had announced his intention of hunting that day; and, as Richelieu withdrew, after handing the prince his shirt—a duty which was always performed by the prelate or noble of the highest rank present—he remarked significantly: “Monsieur, you have not risen early enough this morning; you will find that the quarry is no longer at home.” Then Gaston knew that someone had betrayed him.

Thoroughly frightened, the pusillanimous prince passed from treachery and conspiracy to base submission, “with the levity of a selfish and thoughtless child, destitute of both moral sense and courage,”[35] and on May 31, in the presence of the King, the Queen-Mother and the Cardinal, he signed and swore on the Gospels to observe faithfully a compact drawn up by Richelieu, in which he engaged that “no counsel should ever be proposed or submitted to him by anyone whomsoever of which he would not advise his Majesty; that he would not keep silence concerning even the most trifling words that were spoken to him with the object of arousing his resentment against the King and his advisers, and that he would love and esteem those whom the King and the Queen-Mother loved.”

Gaston had sworn to and signed everything that had been put before him, but, being as faithless as he was cowardly and selfish, he had not the remotest intention of executing his engagement. In fact, while swearing to inform his brother of everything contrary to his service that might come to his knowledge, he said not a word of the great conspiracy which, from the foot of the throne, had extended over the whole kingdom and far beyond its borders; and, when he again found himself among his partisans, he disclosed nothing of what had just taken place, renewed all the promises which he had made them, and continued to preside over their deliberations.

Chalais likewise kept his counsel, and the conspirators appear to have entertained no suspicion that they had a traitor in their midst, and probably attributed the Fleury fiasco to some vague warning furnished the Cardinal by one or other of the many secret agents whom he had in his pay. Had Chalais promptly avowed his enforced betrayal of their designs, they would certainly have proceeded with a great deal more caution, even if they had not decided to abandon the enterprise altogether. But, for a while, he appears to have been of opinion that his wisest course was to say nothing to his friends, and to keep, at least to some extent, his promise to report any fresh developments to the Cardinal; and when at length his secret was forced from him by the address of Madame de Chevreuse and he was involved anew in the conspiracy, its leaders were already hopelessly compromised.

Whether by Chalais or by one of his secret agents, Richelieu’s attention was directed to the Duc de VendÔme, whose movements he caused to be closely watched. VendÔme had resolved to offer Monsieur an asylum in his government of Brittany, and the Cardinal ascertained that he was secretly preparing for war, and that he was in communication with the authorities of La Rochelle. Recognising the importance of stifling at its birth the insurrection in a great province so close to La Rochelle and so exposed to an English invasion, he persuaded the King to proceed thither in person to re-establish his threatened authority. But, since he was doubtful if his Majesty could be brought to consent to the arrest of his half-brothers, the duke and Grand Prior, he resolved to ascertain how far he was prepared to support him, and accordingly requested permission to retire, on the ground of failing health. Louis declined his resignation in a letter which was equivalent to an oath of fidelity from the King to his Minister, and concluded with these words: “Be assured that I shall never change, and that, whoever may attack you, you shall have me for second.”

Armed with this promise, Richelieu no longer hesitated to represent to the King the necessity of arresting the natural sons of Henri IV, and Louis at once assented. On learning of the approach of the Court, the Duc de VendÔme, who was at Nantes, became very uneasy; but since he could not abstain from paying his homage to his sovereign without practically proclaiming himself a rebel, he charged his brother the Grand Prior to obtain an assurance of safety from the King. “I give you my word,” said Louis, “that he will come to no more harm than you.” Deceived by this gross equivocation, the duke joined the Court at Blois, where it had arrived on June 6, and was very graciously received. But, two days later, both he and his brother were arrested in their beds by Du Hallier, Captain of the Guards, and conducted to the ChÂteau of Amboise, where they were very strictly guarded (June 12).

It would appear that, at this juncture, Richelieu was very far from being aware of the wide range of the conspiracy or of all its chiefs; otherwise, he would scarcely have left the Comte de Soissons behind in Paris to command in the name of the King, or have allowed Monsieur to remain in the capital, subject to all the influences that were being brought to bear upon him to induce him to raise the standard of revolt. However, two or three days after the arrest of the VendÔmes, the King received warning that Soissons was meditating the abduction of Mlle. de Montpensier, who had also remained in Paris, upon which he sent Fontenay-Mareuil in all haste to Paris to bring the young lady to the Court, and orders to Bassompierre, Bellegarde, and d’Effiat to accompany them, with as many of their attendants as they could bring. Bassompierre, who was just starting for Blois, had sent all his suite on in advance, but the other two nobles were able to supply a sufficiently-strong guard, under whose escort Mlle. de Montpensier left Paris with the Duchesse de Guise.