A Popular History of France from the Earliest Times, Volume 5

by François Guizot

It was the month of December; bad weather interfered with the siege-works; the king was having a line of circumvallation pushed forward to close the approaches to the city on the land side; the cardinal was having a mole of stone-work, occupying the whole breadth of the roads, constructed; the king’s little fleet, commanded by M. de Guise, had been ordered up to protect the laborers; Spain had sent twenty-eight vessels in such bad condition that those which were rolled into the sea laden with stones were of more value. “They were employed Spanish-fashion,” says Richelieu, “that is, to make an appearance so as to astound the Rochellese by the union of the two crowns.” A few days after their arrival, at the rumor of assistance coming from England, the Spanish admiral, who had secret orders to make no effort for France, demanded permission to withdraw his ships. “It was very shameful of them, but it was thought good to let them go without the king’s consent, making believe that he had given them their dismissal, and desired them to go and set about preparing, one way or another, a large armament by the spring.” The Rochellese were rejoicing over the treaty they had just concluded with the King of England, who promised “to aid them by land and sea, to the best of his kingly power, until he should have brought about a fair and secure peace.” The mole was every moment being washed away by the sea; and, “whilst the cardinal was employing all the wits which God had given him to bring to a successful issue the siege of La Rochelle to the glory of God and the welfare of the state, and was laboring to that end more than the bodily strength granted to him by God seemed to permit, one would have said that the sea and the winds, favoring the English and the islands, were up in opposition and thwarting his designs.”

The king was growing tired, and wished to go to Paris; but this was not the advice of the cardinal, and “the truths he uttered were so displeasing to the king that he fell somehow into disgrace. The dislike the king conceived for him was such that he found fault with him about everything.” The king at last took his departure, and the cardinal, who had attended him “without daring, out of respect, to take his sunshade to protect him against the heat of the sun, which was very great that day,” was on his return taken ill with fever. “I am so downhearted that I cannot express the regret I feel at quitting the cardinal, fearing lest some accident may happen to him,” the king had said to one of his servants: “tell him from me to take care of himself, to think what a state my affairs would be in if I were to lose him.” When the king returned to La Rochelle on the 10th of April, he found his army strengthened, the line of circumvallation finished, and the mole well advanced into the sea; the assault was becoming possible, and the king summoned the place to surrender. [Siege de La Rochelle. Archives eurieuses de l’Histoire de France, t. iii. p. 102.] “We recognize no other sheriffs and governors than ourselves,” answered the sergeant on guard to the improvised herald sent by the king; “nobody will listen to you; away at once!” It was at last announced that the re-enforcements so impatiently expected were coming from England. “The cardinal, who knew that there was nothing so dangerous as to have no fear of one’s enemy, had a long while before set everything in order, as if the English might arrive any day.” Their fleet was signalled at sea; it numbered thirty vessels, and had a convoy of twenty barks laden with provisions and munitions, and it was commanded by the Earl of Denbigh, Buckingham’s brother-in-law. The Rochellese, transported with joy, “had planted a host of flags on the prominent points of their town.” The English came and cast anchor at the tip of the Island of Re. The cannon of La Rochelle gave them a royal salute. A little boat with an English captain on board found means of breaking the blockade; and “Open a passage,” said the envoy to the Rochellese, “as you sent notice to us in England, and we will deliver you.” But the progress made in the works of the mole rendered the enterprise difficult; the besieged could not attempt anything; they waited and waited for Lord Denbigh to bring on an engagement; on the 19th of May, all the English ships got under sail and approached the roads. The besieged hurried on to the ramparts; there was the thunder of one broadside, and one only; and then the vessels tacked and crowded sail for England, followed by the gaze “of the king’s army, who returned to make good cheer without any fear of the enemy, and with great hopes of soon taking the town.”

Great was the despair in La Rochelle: “This shameful retreat of the English, and their aid which had only been received by faith, as they do in the Eucharist,” wrote Cardinal Richelieu, “astounded the Rochellese so mightily that they would readily have made up their minds to surrender, if Madame de Rohan, the mother, whose hopes for her children were all centred in the preservation of this town, and the minister Salbert, a very seditious fellow, had not regaled them with imaginary succor which they made them hope for.” The cardinal, when he wrote these words, knew nothing of the wicked proposals made to Guiton and to Salbert. “Couldn’t the cardinal be got rid of by the deed of one determined man?” it was asked: but the mayor refused; and, “It is not in such a way that God willeth our deliverance,” said Salbert; “it would be too offensive to His holiness.” And they suffered on.

Meanwhile, on the 24th of May, the posterns were observed to open, and the women to issue forth one after another, with their children and the old men; they came gliding towards the king’s encampment, but “he ordered them to be driven back by force; and further, knowing that they had sown beans near the counterscarps of their town, a detachment was sent out to cut them down as soon as they began to come up, and likewise a little corn that they had sown in some dry spots of their marshes.” Louis the Just fought the Rochellese in other fashion than that in which Henry the Great had fought the Parisians.

The misery in the place became frightful; the poor died of hunger, or were cut down by the soldiery when they ventured upon shore at low tide to look for cockles; the price of provisions was such that the richest alone could get a little meat to eat; a cow fetched two thousand livres, and a bushel of wheat eight hundred livres. Madame de Rohan had been the first to have her horses killed, but this resource was exhausted, and her cook at last “left the town and allowed himself to be taken, saying that he would rather be hanged than return to die of hunger.” A rising even took place amongst the inhabitants who were clamorous to surrender, but Guiton had the revolters hanged. “I am ready,” said he, “to cast lots with anybody else which shall live or be killed to feed his comrade with his flesh. As long as there is one left to keep the gates shut, it is enough.” The mutineers were seized with terror, and men died without daring to speak. “We have been waiting three months for the effect of the excellent letters we received from the King of Great Britain,” wrote Guiton on the 24th of August, to the deputies from La Rochelle who were in London, “and, meanwhile, we cannot see by what disasters it happens that we remain here in misery without seeing any sign of succor; our men can do no more, our inhabitants are dying of hunger in the streets, and all our families are in a fearful state from mourning, want, and perplexity; nevertheless, we will hold out to the last day, but in God’s name delay no longer, for we perish.” This letter never reached its destination; the watchmaker, Marc Biron; who had offered to convey it to England, was arrested whilst attempting to pass the royal lines, and was immediately hanged. La Rochelle, however, still held out. “Their rabid fury,” says the cardinal, “gave them new strength, or rather the avenging wrath of God caused them to be supplied therewith in extraordinary measure by his evil spirit, in order to prolong their woes; they were already almost at the end thereof, and misery found upon them no more substance whereon it could feed and support itself; they were skeletons, empty shadows, breathing corpses, rather than living men.” At the bottom of his heart, and in spite of the ill temper their resistance caused in him, the heroism of the Rochellese excited the cardinal’s admiration. Buckingham had just been assassinated. “The king could not have lost a more bitter or a more idiotic enemy; his unreasoning enterprises ended unluckily, but they, nevertheless, did not fail to put us in great peril and cause us much mischief,” says Richelieu “the idiotic madness of an enemy being more to be feared than his wisdom, inasmuch as the idiot does not act on any principle common to other men, he attempts everything and anything, violates his own interests, and is restrained by impossibility alone.”

It was this impossibility of any aid that the cardinal attempted to impress upon the Rochellese by means of letters which he managed to get into the town, representing to them that Buckingham, their protector, was dead, and that they were allowing themselves to be unjustly tyrannized over by a small number amongst them, who, being rich, had wheat to eat, whereas, if they were good citizens, they would take their share of the general misery. These manoeuvres did not remain without effect: the besieged resolved to treat, and a deputation was just about to leave the town, when a burgess who had broken through the lines arrived in hot haste, on his return from England; he had seen, he said, the armament all ready to set out to save them or perish; it must arrive within a week; the public body of La Rochelle had promised not to treat without the King of England’s participation; he was not abandoning his allies; and so the deputies returned home, and there was more waiting still.

On the 29th of September, the English flag appeared before St. Martin de Re; it was commanded by the Earl of Lindsay, and was composed of a hundred and forty vessels, which carried six thousand soldiers, besides the crews; the French who were of the religion were in the van, commanded by the Duke of Soubise and the Count of Laval, brother of the Duke of La Tremoille, who had lately renounced his faith in front of La Rochelle, being convinced of his errors by a single lesson from the cardinal. “This armament was England’s utmost effort, for the Parliament which was then being holden had granted six millions of livres to fit it out to avenge the affronts and ignominy which the English nation had encountered on the Island of Re, and afterwards by the shameful retreat of their armament in the month of May.” But it was too late coming; the mole was finished, and the opening in it defended by two forts; and a floating palisade blocked the passage as well. The English sent some petards against this construction, but they produced no effect; and when, next day, they attacked the royal fleet, the French crews lost but twenty-eight men; “the fire-ships were turned aside by men who feared fire as little as water.” Lord Lindsay retired with his squadron to the shelter of the Island of Aix, sending to the king “Lord Montagu to propose some terms of accommodation.” He demanded pardon for the Rochellese, freedom of conscience, and quarter for the English garrison in La Rochelle; the answer was, “that the Rochellese were subjects of the king, who knew quite well what he had to do with them, and that the King of England had no right to interfere. As for the English, they should meet with the same treatment as was received by the French whom they held prisoners.” Montagu set out for England to obtain further orders from the king his master.

All hope of effectual aid was gone, and the Rochellese felt it; the French who were on board the English fleet had taken, like them, a resolution to treat; and they had already sent to the cardinal when, on the 29th of October, the deputies from La Rochelle arrived at the camp. “Your fellows who were in the English army have already obtained grace,” said the cardinal to them; and when they were disposed not to believe it, the cardinal sent for the pastors Vincent and Gobert, late delegates to King Charles I. “they embraced with tears in their eyes, not daring to speak of business, as they had been forbidden to do so on pain of death.”

The demands of the Rochellese were more haughty than befitted their extreme case. “Though they were but shadows of living men, and their life rested solely on the king’s mercy, they actually dared, nevertheless, to propose to the cardinal a general treaty on behalf of all those of their party, including Madame de Rohan and Monsieur de Soubise, the maintenance of their privileges, of their governor, and of their mayor, together with the right of those bearing arms to march out with beat of drum and lighted match” [with the honors of war].

The cardinal was amused at their impudence, he writes in his Memoires, and told them that they had no right to expect anything more than pardon, which, moreover, they did not deserve. “He was nevertheless anxious to conclude, wishing that Montagu should find peace made, and that the English fleet should see it made without their consent, which would render the rest of the king’s business easier, whether as regarded England or Spain, or the interior of the kingdom.” On the 28th the treaty, or rather the grace, was accordingly signed, “the king granting life and property to those of the inhabitants of the town who were then in it, and the exercise of the religion within La Rochelle.” These articles bore the signature of a brigadier-general, M. de Marillac, the king not having thought proper to put his name at the bottom of a convention made with his subjects.