house in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, emboldened apparently by a promise of his protection which Condé had given him. A few days later, having some business with the prince, he had the hardihood to go to the Hôtel de Condé, attended by a suite of thirty gentlemen, at a time when Condé was giving a sumptuous fête in honour of Lord Hay, the British Ambassador Extraordinary, to which all the princes and great nobles had been invited. The company were at table when he arrived, but he went into the banquet-hall, in which he found Bouillon, Mayenne and other sworn enemies of his, spoke with Condé for some time, and then took his departure, “all these gentlemen glaring at him and he at them.”
Next morning, the prince sent for Concini and told him that he had had great difficulty on the previous day in restraining his friends from falling upon him and killing him as he was leaving his hôtel, and that they all threatened to abandon him if he did not withdraw his protection from the marshal. In consequence, he was unable to protect him any longer, and he counselled him strongly to retire to Normandy, of which province he had recently been appointed lieutenant-general, in exchange for the surrender of a similar office in Picardy. Concini followed the prince’s advice—or rather his orders—went to the Louvre to take leave of the King and the Queen-Mother, and left Paris the next day (August 15). “It is impossible to say,” adds Bassompierre, “how much his departure discredited the Queen-Mother, when it was seen that a servant of hers could not live in safety in Paris, save so long as Monsieur le Prince pleased; while it augmented the reputation and authority of Monsieur le Prince.”
Chief of the grandees and also chief of the King’s counsellors, Condé might perhaps have been content to live on good terms with the Queen-Mother and to use with moderation the large share of power which she had abandoned to him. “But his partisans were unable to suffer their reunion.” Longueville surprised Péronne; Bouillon, the “demon of rebellion,” the turbulent Mayenne, the restless Vendôme, urged him to seize the supreme power, on pain of abandoning him. He is said to have avowed to Barbin that “it was plain that nothing more remained for him but to remove the King from his throne and put himself in his place.” If he had really entertained any such intention, he would hardly have made a confidant of one of the most devoted of the Queen-Mother’s adherents; but, any way, the Court believed that he was secretly stirring up the people and the clergy and tampering with the officers of the Guards and the captains of the citizen militia, and was plotting to change the form of government. On the advice probably of the new Ministers Barbin and Mangot, and of Concini’s wife, Marie de’ Medici resolved to forestall Condé by arresting him, together with Bouillon, Mayenne, and Vendôme. Fearing that the officers of the Guards might refuse to lay hands on the first Prince of the Blood, she decided to dispense with their services and to entrust the task to the Marquis de Thémines, a brave old Gascon noble who had served with distinction in the Wars of Religion, assisted by d’Elbène, a captain of light cavalry.
“On Thursday, the first day of September, at three o’clock in the morning,” says Bassompierre, “I was awakened by a gentleman-servant of the Queen named La Motte, who came to tell me, on her behalf, to come to the Louvre, disguised and alone, which I did. On entering the Louvre, I found one of the Gardes du Corps of the King named La Barre, who happened to be on guard that night. La Barre was Quartermaster of the Swiss, and I told him to come with me into the Queen’s ante-chamber and wait at the door while I entered her chamber, as I did not doubt that it was some matter relating to the Swiss which was the cause of my being sent for.
“I found the Queen in deshabille, with MM. Mangot and Barbin on either side of her, while M. de Fossé[105] was standing a little way behind them. As I entered, she said to me: ‘You do not know why I have sent for you so early, Bassompierre.’ ‘Madame,’ I answered, ‘I do not know the reason.’ ‘I will tell you anon,’ said she, and then began to walk about, and so continued for near half-an-hour; while I spoke to M. de Fossé, whom I was very astonished to see there, as the Queen had dismissed him for having accompanied the Commandeur de Sillery when he was exiled from the Court.[106]
“At length, the Queen entered her cabinet, bidding us follow her, and said to me: ‘I intend to make prisoners of Monsieur le Prince and MM. de Vendôme, Mayenne, and Bouillon. I desire that the Swiss be here at eleven o’clock this morning, that is to say, about the Tuileries, for, if I am forced by the people to leave Paris, I shall retire with them to Mantes. I have my jewels packed up and 40,000 crowns in gold—they are here—and I shall take my children with me, if I am forced to go, though I pray that God may forbid it, and I do not think it will be necessary. But I am fully resolved to submit to any peril and inconvenience that I may encounter rather than lose my authority and suffer that of the King to perish. I desire also that, when the time arrives, you will go, with your Swiss, to the gate [of the Louvre], to resist an attack, if one should be made, and to die there for the service of the King, as I promise myself that you will be ready to do.’ ‘Madame,’ I replied, ‘I shall not deceive the good opinion that you entertain of me, as you will know to-day, if such should be the case. Meantime, Madame, be pleased to permit me to go and summon the Swiss from their quarters.’ ‘No,’ said she, ‘you shall not go out.’ ‘It is strange of you, Madame,’ said I, ‘to distrust a man to whom you are confiding the person of the King, your own, and those of your children. However, I have at this door a man whom I can trust, and I will send him to the quarters of the Swiss. Rely on me, Madame, and rest assured that the fête will not be spoiled by me.’ She permitted me to go out, and I sent La Barre to fetch the Swiss. I asked her what she intended to do with the French Guards, when she said that she feared that M. de Créquy[107] had been won over by Monsieur le Prince. ‘Not against the King, Madame,’ said I, ‘for I know that for the King he would die a thousand deaths, if that were possible.’ Upon that she said: ‘I must send for him, and neither of you must go out until Monsieur le Prince has entered.’ She sent also for M. de Saint-Géran[108]; while La Curée[109] came with the King when he descended to the Queen-Mother’s apartments at nine o’clock. The Queen spoke to these gentlemen, and when I asked her by whom Monsieur le Prince was to be arrested, she answered: ‘I have provided for that.’
“Monsieur le Prince came at eight o’clock to attend the Council, and the Queen-Mother, looking at him as everyone came to hand him petitions, said: ‘There is the King of France, but his royalty will be like that of the Twelfth Night King; it will not last long.’
“Upon that, she despatched Créquy and myself to the gate of the Louvre to place the Guards under arms, and meantime she sent to summon Monsieur le Prince to her presence. Afterwards she sent to tell us that if Monsieur le Prince came to the gate, we should arrest him. We sent back word that this was so important an order that we ought to have it from her own lips, and that she should have given it us while we were in her chamber; but that, if it pleased her to send a lieutenant of the Guards du Corps to arrest him, we would render him every assistance, and, meantime, I would give orders that no one was to pass out of the gate. And I placed thirty Swiss halberdiers there, while Créquy gave a like order to the French Guards.
“A moment later, there came a valet de chambre of the Queen to tell us that Monsieur le Prince had been arrested.”[110]