Still France hesitated, and it was only the strong remonstrances of the Duke of Savoy, the Venetian ambassador, and the Constable de Lesdiguières—himself a converted Huguenot—who saw the valley made an armed highway for the enemies of France, Venice, and Savoy, that brought Louis to insist on the carrying out of the Treaty of Madrid. In the winter of 1622-3—Richelieu being in the background, and advising the King through Marie de Médicis, to the displeasure of the Brûlarts—the three Powers made a league to this end, agreeing to raise an army of forty thousand men.

The valley was too precious to be easily renounced by Spain, and yet she did not wish to fight France and Savoy. Philip IV. and his Ministers found a way out by calling Pope Gregory XV. to the rescue, and the warlike ardour of France was easily cooled. The Treaty of Madrid was laid aside, and Louis XIII. consented that the fortresses of the Valtelline should be placed in the hands of the Pope, pending their demolition and a new arrangement of the whole affair. It was understood that the Spaniards and Austrians would no longer pretend to any rights over the valley, and that all foreign occupation would cease in three months’ time.

Nothing of the sort happened. Gregory XV. was succeeded by Urban VIII. in the summer of 1623. When, after a long delay, the new Pope invited Spain to fulfil her engagements, she declined absolutely. The free passage of the Valtelline for her troops was a military advantage not to be given up. The Pope did not insist: the action of surrendering the Valtelline, with its Catholic population, to the tender mercies of the Protestant Grisons, seemed to him wicked and impious.

This was the state of things in the autumn of 1624, when Cardinal de Richelieu came into his own. There were surprises in store both for the Pope and for Spain. Philip IV. and his Ministers had little fear of France; the policy of his royal brother-in-law had as yet been anything but energetic. Urban VIII. and the rest of the Catholic world found it hard to believe that a Cardinal would fight against Rome.

The Pope was asked, in a polite but peremptory fashion, either to destroy the fortresses or to deliver them back to Spain, with whom France would then deal direct; and in any case to withdraw his troops at once from the valley. He temporised and negotiated in Spain’s favour. Richelieu’s patience was soon exhausted. The early winter saw Switzerland overrun by French troops under the Marquis de Cœuvres, who drove the Austrians back into the Tyrol, swooped down by Poschiavo on Tirano, and in a few weeks’ time had taken all the forts and driven the papal troops out of the Valtelline.

In the course of the same winter Richelieu took advantage of a quarrel between the Duke of Savoy and the Republic of Genoa to support the Duke with an army under Lesdiguières, aided by a Dutch fleet, in an attack on Genoese territory. Richelieu had indeed no intention of conquering Genoa or of strengthening Savoy; but the Republic was Spain’s richest and most useful ally, and such an attack could not fail to harass her terribly while she was losing her position in the Valtelline, and to weaken her power in Italy.

At this crisis in foreign affairs discontent at home rose furious, and might have wrecked a smaller man. Richelieu found himself suddenly beset with a swarm of enemies, private and public. The campaign in favour of the Swiss Protestants, the strong opposition to Rome and to Spain, enraged society and the Church; and while this storm was only beginning to grumble, the French Huguenots broke out into sudden, most untimely rebellion.

The Treaty of Montpellier had left them discontented. Their last war had ended, in the autumn of 1622, with submissions and renunciations hard to be borne by so proud and independent a party. If the King was bound to observe the Edict of Nantes, which assured them toleration, they, on their side, were forced to dismantle their fortifications, and to cease from all assemblies not strictly religious. Two strong places only, La Rochelle and Montauban, were left in their hands. The Duc de Rohan, now their chief leader—the old Duc de Bouillon died in 1623—was deprived of his provincial governments, though indemnified by smaller posts and large sums of money. Also the King promised the destruction of Fort Louis, built by him to command the entrance to the harbour of La Rochelle. This last article of the treaty was not carried out: hence great displeasure in the Protestant camp.

In the eyes of some politicians, notably the Pope’s Nuncio, the Peace of Montpellier, with its concessions to rebel subjects, was somewhat disgraceful to the King of France. Richelieu was of the same opinion, to judge by his own words. But he was too wise not to let the sleeping dogs of the kingdom lie. Civil war was at all times the last thing he desired; and at this moment, with two foreign campaigns on his hands,—campaigns against the great enemies of Protestantism—the active disloyalty of the Duc de Rohan moved him to high indignation.

Writing on January 12, 1625, to M. de la Ville-aux-Clercs, Ambassador Extraordinary in London—employed, with the Marquis d’Effiat, in the final arrangements for the royal marriage—Richelieu says: