H. Noel Williams

Arrival of the English fleet under the Earl of Denbigh—Its composition—Daring feat of an English pinnace—Retirement of the fleet—Probable explanation of this fiasco—Indignation of Charles I, who orders Denbigh to return to La Rochelle, but this is found to be impossible—The Rochellois approach Bassompierre with a request for a conference to arrange terms of surrender—The arrival of a letter from Charles I promising to send another fleet to their succour causes the negotiations to be broken off—La Rochelle in the grip of famine—Refusal of Louis XIII to allow the old men, women and children to pass through the Royal lines: their miserable fate—Movements in favour of surrender among the citizens suppressed by the Mayor Guiton—Terrible sufferings of La Rochelle—Bassompierre spares the life of a Huguenot soldier who had intended to kill him—Difficulties experienced by Charles I and Buckingham in fitting out a new expedition—Assassination of Buckingham—The vanguard of the English fleet, under the command of the Earl of Lindsey, appear off La Rochelle—Narrow escape of Richelieu and Bassompierre—The King takes up his quarters with Bassompierre at Laleu—Arrival of the rest of the English fleet—Feeble efforts of the English to force their way into the harbour—The Rochellois, reduced to the last extremity, sue for peace—Bassompierre conducts deputies from the town to Richelieu—Surrender of La Rochelle—Bassompierre returns with the King to Paris.

Bassompierre, who early in April had had an exceedingly narrow escape of his life, a cannon-shot from the town having killed three soldiers to whom he was speaking and covered him with earth, was busily employed during the days which followed the King’s return to the army in erecting a formidable battery on the Chef de Baie, a promontory at the north-western extremity of the canal, opposite Coreilles, for the arrival of the English fleet was now daily expected.

To the profound mortification of Charles I, who considered the deliverance of La Rochelle a matter of personal honour, the difficulty of obtaining both money and men had delayed the fitting out of the expedition until the spring was well advanced; but at the end of April it sailed from Portsmouth, under the command of the Earl of Denbigh, Buckingham’s brother-in-law, and on May 11 appeared off the Île de RÉ.

“On Thursday the 11th,” writes Bassompierre, “M. de Mailsais (the new Archbishop of Bordeaux),[113] and several others, being come to dine with me, I brought them at noon to the battery of Chef de Baie, at which time the English fleet appeared off Baleines.[114] It was perceived by a sentinel who had been posted for that purpose in the belfry of Ars, in the Île de RÉ, and Toiras, on being informed, sent in all haste to give the signal from the Fort de la PrÉe which he had arranged with me: three cannon-shots and a thick smoke. I caught sight of it also at the same moment, from the battery of the Chef de Baie, where I stood with the gentlemen of whom I have spoken, and ordered the signal to be given to warn our armies on sea and land, which was three cannon-shots from the said battery, and sent to warn the Cardinal (who had come to lodge on my side of the town, at a chÂteau called La Saussaye, half a league from La Fons). Then our naval armament, under the command of the Commandeur de ValenÇai, set sail, and advanced towards the promontory of Saint-Blanceau. At two o’clock in the afternoon, the advance-guard of the English appeared near Saint-Martin-de-RÉ. The King was forthwith warned of it by the Cardinal, who came to Coreilles with him to witness the approach of the naval army of the enemy. The Cardinal went to lodge at AytrÉ, in order to look to matters on that side. The whole fleet, which was advancing in three lines, was composed of fifty-two vessels, to wit, four of the King’s great ships-of-war, seven other vessels of five hundred tons burden, and forty-one little vessels of one hundred tons and less, both fire-ships and ships laden with provisions, so far as one could conjecture. But what made us quite confident that they would be unable to effect anything, and that our fleet would be incomparably stronger than theirs, was that neither the King’s ships-of-war nor the other great vessels would find sufficient depth of water to enter the canal.

“About seven o’clock in the evening the English fleet approached to anchor at Chef de Baie. But, to prevent them, I ordered the battery to fire fifty cannon-shot upon the vessels of the advance-guard, of which three struck the hulls of the vessels and killed a few men, and the others pierced their sails. This caused them to stand out to sea towards the Straits of Antioche,[115] where they cast anchor.”

The English appear to have imagined that they had only to show themselves to enter the harbour, as they had been informed that the French had only a few ships and that the mole was but little advanced. They were astonished to behold the approach barred by twenty-nine vessels and a swarm of boats and armed shallops. The flanks of this fleet were protected by the batteries which bristled on the two promontories of Chef de Baie and Coreilles and on both sides of the canal. Even supposing that they were able to force this formidable barrier, they would find themselves confronted by the mole, now almost completed, which was fortified by four batteries, one at each extremity, and one on either side of a narrow opening left for the passage of the tides. A little fort, built in the canal, covered this opening on the side of the sea, and this fort was covered, in its turn, by twenty-four vessels lashed together in the shape of a half-moon. On the other side of the mole, a second floating stockade of armed boats prevented the Rochellois from communicating with their allies.

It may be questioned, as Gardiner very justly observes, whether Drake or Nelson, followed by crews as high-spirited and as energetic as themselves, would have made an attack successfully. But Denbigh’s fleet was for the most part manned by pressed men, carried off against their will from their ordinary occupations to a service of danger, in which the reward was but scanty pay, or, most probably, no pay at all. Many of them were soldiers converted into sailors from sheer necessity. Such men could have had but little stomach for the business in hand, nor was Denbigh the kind of commander to inspire those under him with a more daring spirit.

Denbigh would appear to have founded some hope on the superiority of his ships-of-war over any which the French could oppose to them; but he was assured by the Rochellois ÉmigrÉs who were with him that these great vessels would undoubtedly run aground in the shallow waters of the canal. He therefore decided to wait until the next spring tide made the attack easier for his fire-ships; but, in any case, it would have been impossible for him to have attempted anything of importance for nearly a week, as during that time, Bassompierre tells us, the wind was blowing hard off the coast.

More than one attempt, however, was made by small vessels to run the blockade under cover of darkness; and during the night of the 14th-15th, Bassompierre learned that an English pinnace had passed through the opening in the mole. He sent at once to warn the vessels which lay between the mole and the inner harbour; but the pinnace succeeded in evading them and reached the town in safety. It was a most daring feat and worthy of the best traditions of the Navy.

On the 15th there was an alarm that the English fleet was getting under way, and Richelieu sent the Swiss Guards and Vaubecourt’s regiment to reinforce Bassompierre at Chef de Baie. However, nothing happened.

On the following day the English sent a fire-ship against the French fleet, but the boats succeeded in towing it to the shore of the canal. It was thought probable that the enemy might attempt an attack that night, and the King came to spend it in Bassompierre’s quarters, the marshal sleeping in his coach.

On the 18th Louis XIII dined and held his Council at Bassompierre’s quarters, and then went with him to Chef de Baie to watch the enemy’s fleet in the Straits of Antioche. He then started to return to AytrÉ, accompanied by the marshal; but, after they had proceeded some little distance, happening to glance back, they observed great activity aboard the English ships: anchors were being weighed, sailors were going aloft hoisting sails, and it was evident that a general movement was about to take place.

Bassompierre returned in all haste to Chef de Baie, and the French on land and sea began hurriedly preparing to meet the expected attack.

Presently, the great ships-of-war stood in towards the canal, until they had got within range, when they tacked, discharged their broadsides into the French vessels, and then stood out to sea, as did the whole fleet. The French watched them with astonishment, scarcely daring to believe that they really intended to leave the beleaguered city to its fate without any serious attempt to force their way into the harbour; but they held on their course, running rapidly before the wind, and ere long the last of their sails disappeared below the horizon. “Then,” says Bassompierre, “we returned to our quarters to make good cheer without fear of the enemy and with good hope of the speedy reduction of La Rochelle.”

It is very difficult to decide who was to blame for this fiasco, for the evidence is exceedingly conflicting. The English officers, when they came home, threw all the blame on the Rochellois refugees who accompanied them, while the Rochellois bitterly retorted the accusation. The explanation given by Gardiner, who is always scrupulously fair in his criticism of naval and military operations, is as follows:—

“On the morning of the 8th [the 18th according to French chronology] a fresh apprehension seized on the commander [Denbigh]. The wind was blowing from Rochelle, and if he could not set fire to the ships of the enemy, the French might possibly set fire to his. He therefore gave the order to weigh anchor, that the fleet might retire to a little distance. When the minds of men are in a state of despondency, the slightest retrograde movement is fatal. The Rochellois weighed anchor as they were told, but they understood the expedition had been abandoned and made all sail for England. Thus deserted, the whole fleet followed their example.”

When the news that the expedition which he had only succeeded in sending out after so many difficulties and delays was on its way home, Charles I, who, only a day or two before, had sent orders to Denbigh to hold on at La Rochelle so long as possible and to send for reinforcements if he required them, was furiously indignant. He at once despatched Lord Fielding, Denbigh’s son, to Portsmouth to press into the King’s service every vessel he found there, and to direct his father to return at all hazards to La Rochelle and to await the reinforcements and supplies which would be sent him. But it was impossible for Denbigh to carry out these orders. His ships were full of sick men and very short of provisions, while some of them were urgently in need of repairs, and to send them to sea again before these were effected would, if bad weather came on, entail the loss of them and their crews. Besides this, three of his merchant-vessels laden with corn for La Rochelle had been snapped up by Dunkirk privateers within sight of the English coast, and they and their freights would have to be replaced. The King reluctantly acknowledged the force of Denbigh’s representations and sent orders to him to refit, while all the available maritime force of the country was being got ready to accompany him.

The retreat of the English produced a profound impression both in France and abroad. The clergy, assembled at Fontenai, in Poitou, voted a subsidy of three millions to aid the King to finish his work. The Comte de Soissons, who had contemplated raising the standard of revolt in DauphinÉ and joining Rohan, sued for pardon and came to the Royal camp to make his peace with the King; while the Duc de la TrÉmoille, the greatest noble of Poitou, hastened to abjure the Protestant faith, and was received into the Catholic Church by Richelieu, who promptly rewarded his “conversion” by the command of the light cavalry. It appears to have been the almost general belief that the surrender of La Rochelle was near at hand, a belief which was strengthened when, a week after the departure of the English fleet, the Rochellois made an unsuccessful attempt to send their “bouches inutiles” through the lines of the besiegers, thus admitting that the town was already beginning to feel the pinch of hunger.

But those who counted on the early surrender of La Rochelle understood but little the grim tenacity of that people, so well personified by the inflexible seaman whom it had chosen as its chief. The mayor Guiton, ably seconded by the old Duchesse de Rohan and the eloquent minister Salbert, exhorted their fellow-citizens to endure all things for the sake of their faith and to choose death rather than dishonour. Nevertheless, so great was the despondency which followed the departure of the English that these zealots were unable to prevent negotiations being opened with the Royal army, though it is probable that they had no intention of allowing them to be carried through. Anyway, on May 31, a drummer from the town came to Bassompierre’s quarters; informed him that the citizens were debating the question of surrender, and requested that he would send someone to arrange for a conference. Bassompierre despatched the Comte, afterwards the MarÉchal, de Grancey to La Rochelle, and sent to inform the King and the Cardinal, who expressed their approval; and on the following day commissioners were appointed on both sides. On the morrow, however, the negotiations were abruptly broken off by the Rochellois:

“Friday, the 2nd [June].—The Rochellois received a letter from the King of England by which he promised them to hazard his three kingdoms for their salvation, and that in a few days he would send such a fleet as would render them effectual aid. This encouraged the zealots to make the people resolve to suffer the last extremities rather than surrender. They instructed Grancey to inform me of this and sent me a copy of the letter.”

Alas for the unhappy Rochellois! Distracted by troubles at home and at his wits’ end for money, many weeks were to pass before Charles was to be in a position to redeem his promise, and long before that time the last extremities had come upon the people whom he and his favourite had so wantonly incited to revolt.

During the ensuing weeks an occasional attempt was made to revictual La Rochelle on the land side, but without success, and by the end of June the town was in the grip of famine. Half the population was already subsisting on vegetables, roots, and shell-fish, but soon these resources failed, and they were obliged to have recourse to all the deplorable expedients which hunger can impose on the revolted senses. Soon there was not a cat or dog in the town, and when these had disappeared, parchments, skins and leather were cut into shreds, soaked in water, boiled, and eaten, with a little syrup to season the dish. Some endeavoured to support life on bran and chopped straw; others declared war on rats and mice.

Several attempts were made to send the old men, women, and children out of the town; but Louis XIII, who had none of his father’s kindly heart, which had led him to have compassion on the fugitives at the time of the siege of Paris, gave orders for them to be driven back. Those who persisted in trying to pass through the Royal lines were taken and hanged. Guiton, more inflexible even than the King, ended by refusing to open the gates to the poor creatures whom he had expelled, and numbers of them perished miserably between the besieging army and the walls of the town.

About the middle of July, a rising in favour of peace broke out amongst the least zealous inhabitants. It was, however, speedily put down by the fanatical party, and Guiton caused several of the leaders to be executed. Early in August, however, a more regular attempt was made in the council of the town itself. Several of the magistrates of the PrÉsidial inclined to submission, and one of them declared that they ought to surrender, provided that the King would leave them their walls and their religious liberty, pointing out that if the English fleet had been unable to effect anything when the canal was only partially closed, it could not reasonably be expected to be more successful now that the mole was completed. Guiton did not make use of the poniard which still lay on the council-table against the speaker, but he struck him with his fist. Another councillor then struck the mayor, and this unseemly brawl terminated by the Council ordering the arrest of Guiton. The latter however, raised the people against the moderate party, and the two councillors who had offended him had to go into hiding to escape being torn to pieces by the mob, who had been persuaded that there was no mercy to hope for from the King, and that, if they opened their gates, the men would be massacred and the women abandoned to the soldiers.

Day after day, from the top of the ramparts, the famished citizens scanned the sea in the hope of catching sight of the approaching sails of the English fleet; day after day their hopes mocked them. The deputies of La Rochelle in England addressed to Charles I the most touching remonstrances in the name of their perishing city, but the King could do nothing until the necessary subsidies for the equipment of another expedition had been voted by Parliament, and even when these had been obtained, as the price of his surrender on the question of the Petition of Right, fresh obstacles arose to delay the departure of the fleet. And, meanwhile, the condition of La Rochelle was growing daily more terrible.

The markets were deserted, the shops closed, numbers of houses were unoccupied, every member of the families who had once occupied them having perished. Dead bodies were constantly found in the streets—the bodies of those who had wandered hither and thither in a vain search for food, and at last had lain down and died, too weak to crawl back to their homes. And there they often remained for days, since it was difficult for the authorities to procure men with enough strength left to carry them away and bury them.

Amid all the horrors of the famine there were numerous instances of heroic self-devotion. For a week a father kept his child alive by nourishing it with his own blood, and many preferred death to sharing what little food they could get with those whom they loved. The preachers went about amongst the people, exhorting them to faith in Heaven, and the old Duchesse de Rohan ably seconded their efforts. As for Guiton, he was as inflexible as ever; nothing could bend that iron will. “One of his friends,” writes Pontis, “pointed out to him a person of their acquaintance who was dying of hunger. ‘Are you astonished at that?’ he answered coldly. ‘It is what you and I will assuredly have to come to!’ And when another observed to him that the whole town was famishing to death, he replied with the same coldness: ‘If one man remains to close the gates, it is enough!’”

The garrison, for whom the scanty supplies of the town had been husbanded to the utmost, fared better than the citizens; but by the middle of August it was found necessary to reduce their rations to what barely sufficed to enable even the strongest to carry out their duties. Many of the soldiers, who were not sustained by the same religious zeal as the Rochellois, attempted to surrender to the enemy; but, for the reasons which had caused the refugees to be driven back, orders were issued that their surrender was not to be accepted.

“On Monday the 14th [August],” writes Bassompierre, “fifty soldiers of the town came out towards Fort Sainte-Marie and asked to speak to me. They wished to surrender and to bring two hundred others with two captains; but I refused them.”

And on the following day:—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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