It was in a spirit of triumphant loyalty, therefore, both to his Order and to the King—or rather, to the Queen and her councillors—that Armand de Richelieu made the oration which gained him his first real fame. He stood before the whole of France—all France that signified, for even the humble millions were represented, though mostly by men of law—slight and delicate, with a pleasant voice, an easy, graceful manner, eyes bright and clear, yet thoughtful, a mouth both strong and smiling under the thin moustache brushed sharply upwards, which always gave him the look of a soldier.
His discourse lasted an hour, and gave great satisfaction to all his hearers, who were struck by the discretion with which he touched on many difficult subjects “without offending anybody.” It was indeed a delicate task, to complain of the treatment bestowed on the Church and her clergy by the chief authorities in the kingdom; to praise the clergy, their learning, probity and self-denial, and to claim for them a larger share in the management of State affairs; to point out the many abuses of lay patronage; to condemn the excesses of some Huguenots while declaring that no weapons but example, instruction and prayer should be used against those who, “if blinded by error,” yet lived peaceably under the royal authority; to remonstrate against unfair taxation, corruption and bribery in high places; to demand the reduction of pensions and the abolition of duels, according to the laws of “the great Henry”:—and in the same breath to praise the Queen-Regent for the great things she had already done in preserving “peace, repose and public tranquillity,” chief of which was that “sacred bond of a double marriage” which was soon to unite “the greatest kingdoms of the world.” In short, while performing the full duty prescribed by his Order, to make himself persona grata to Marie de Médicis, was a task worthy of Armand de Richelieu.
The Baron de Sénecé, spokesman of the nobles, followed the Bishop of Luçon, but had little to say. On the other hand Robert Miron, who spoke—on his knees—for the Tiers État, had a great deal. He drew a frightful picture of the “wounds and sorrows” of the poor people of France, their constant labour and heavy burdens. He complained bitterly of the abuses in the Church, the privileges, oppressions, public and private violence of the nobles, the delays and the corruption of justice, the ravages of armed men.
“Without the labour of the poor people,” he cried, “where were the tithes of the Church—the vast possessions of the nobility, their wide lands, their great fiefs—the houses, the incomes, the heritages of the Third Estate? And further, who gives your Majesty the means of keeping up the royal dignity, of providing for the necessary expenses of the State, within and without the kingdom? who gives the means of raising men for the wars, if not the labourer and the taxes he pays?” And he added those remarkable words: “It is to be feared that despair may teach the poor people that the soldier is but a peasant bearing arms, and that when the vinedresser takes up an arquebus, he may become hammer instead of anvil.”
But Miron, like the other speakers, professed devoted loyalty to the King, only begging that the royal authority might interfere to protect the poor people. And Miron’s harangue, like the others, had no real consequence whatever. Richelieu observes in his Memoirs that the States-General ended without advantage to anybody.
The deputies were dismissed, contumelious and discontented, and returned to the provinces freshly burdened by their expenses.
The Bishop of Luçon went back to his diocese; but his speech was printed by the famous Cramoisy. The Court consoled itself for a very tiresome winter by one of the most magnificent Mid-Lent ballets that Paris had ever seen.
CHAPTER V
1615-1616
Richelieu appointed Chaplain to Queen Anne—Discontent of the Parliament and the Princes—The Royal progress to the South—Treaty of Loudun—Return to Paris—Marie de Médicis and her favourites—The young King and Queen—The Duc de Luynes—Richelieu as negotiator and adviser—The death of Madame de Richelieu.
In the autumn of the year 1615 Richelieu was appointed chaplain to the new young Queen of France, Anne of Austria. He owed this appointment partly to the impression made by his good looks and talent on Marie de Médicis, partly to the friendly intrigues of the Bishop of Bayonne—afterwards Archbishop of Tours, and an adorer of the beautiful Duchesse de Chevreuse. Owing to the troubled state of France and the long delay of the royal entry into Paris, he did not enter upon his duties till the late spring of 1616.