The death of Villeroy, in November, 1617, enfeebled the group of old counsellors who had been recalled to office after the assassination of Concini; and Luynes, whose favour with the King was constantly increasing, began to direct the State, although he was totally ignorant of public affairs. His Government benefited for some time by the unpopularity of the Maréchal d’Ancre; the grandees remained tranquil, and Luynes, by his marriage with the beautiful Marie de Rohan, daughter of the Duc de Montbazon, destined one day to become so celebrated under the name of the Duchesse de Chevreuse, assured himself of the support of the House of Rohan.
Alone amongst the great nobles, d’Épernon did not hurry himself to come and compliment the King on his assumption of the government of his realm and to salute the man to whom he had delegated the royal authority. As Colonel-General of the French Infantry, d’Épernon was a power in the land, and when at last, towards the end of March, 1618, he condescended to visit the Court, the colonels of all the regiments stationed in and around Paris and in Picardy and Champagne went so far as Étampes to meet him and escort him to the capital. Haughty and choleric and excessively touchy on the question of his rights, this former mignon of Henri III was not long in mortally offending the King, already incensed against him by his long delay in presenting himself at Court, which Luynes had not failed to represent as a gross want of the respect due to his sovereign.
Finding that Du Vair, to whom the Seals had been restored after the dismissal of Mangot, was in the habit of taking his seat at the Council above all the nobles, even when the Chancellor was present, although the Keeper of the Seals was not an officer of the Crown, his gorge rose at once, and he went to the King to protest against so intolerable an affront to his own dignity and that of his order. Du Vair happened to be with the King, and, says Bassompierre, “as M. d’Épernon was a little violent, he attacked the Keeper of the Seals, who answered him more sharply than he should have done.” Three days later, Louis XIII summoned the duke and Du Vair to his cabinet, and, in the presence of Bassompierre and several other courtiers, ordered them to be reconciled. By way of answer, d’Épernon shrugged his shoulders, upon which the young monarch, who was seated, rose in great indignation, and severely reprimanded him. Then, observing that he had affairs of importance to attend to, he abruptly quitted the room.
D’Épernon retired, followed by Bassompierre, but, to their astonishment, they found all the doors of the ante-chamber closed and locked. It looked “as though the King intended to have the duke arrested, and had given orders for the doors to be secured, in order to allow time for an officer of the Guards to be summoned.” However, it occurred to Bassompierre that perhaps the door leading to the King’s private staircase, which was opposite that of his chamber, might not be locked, and, finding it unfastened, he fetched d’Épernon, and they descended the stairs and made their way to the Salle Haute, where the old noble’s attendants were awaiting him.
As d’Épernon was leaving the Louvre, he asked his friend “to send him warning if anything had been resolved against him.” Bassompierre accordingly spoke to Luynes on the subject, and was informed that, as M. d’Épernon intended going to his government of Metz, he would be well advised to hasten his departure, since there were persons who might incite the King against him. Bassompierre, of course, understood very well who it was who was likely to incite the King.
On being assured that his Majesty was prepared to treat him as though nothing had happened when he went to ask permission to retire to Metz, d’Épernon proceeded to the Louvre, where the King received him “with a very good countenance,” and granted his request. Louis XIII was under the impression that the duke intended to leave Paris the following day; but, five days later, while the King was at Vanves, a village in the environs of the capital, he learned that d’Épernon was still there and that a great number of people were visiting him. His Majesty angrily told Bassompierre that if, when he returned to Paris on the morrow, he found M. d’Épernon there, it would be the worse for him; and Luynes advised Bassompierre to go and tell him that “he would not remain much longer, if he were wise.” This he did, and d’Épernon requested him to inform the King that he would leave Paris before noon on the morrow. He took his departure within the time specified, but, instead of proceeding to Metz, he only went so far as Fontenay-en-Brie, near Coulommiers, where he had a country-seat. Louis XIII was furious, and proposed to send a detachment of the Guards to arrest him; but the Chancellor, Sillery, who was a friend of d’Épernon, sent a messenger in all haste to the duke to warn him of what was intended, and d’Épernon, recognising that he had presumed too far on the young monarch’s forbearance, lost no time in resuming his journey to Metz.
Although d’Épernon had only himself to blame for his disgrace, he was none the less bitterly incensed against the King and his favourite; and, to avenge his outraged dignity, forthwith proceeded to establish a secret correspondence with the Queen-Mother, whom he urged to protest by force of arms against the treatment she was receiving, and promised to support by every means in his power.
Marie required little prompting: she had already resolved to make her escape. Thanks to the enmity of Luynes, she found herself little better than a prisoner in the Château of Blois; all correspondence with persons at the Court was forbidden her; Richelieu, who had aroused the suspicions of the favourite, had been banished to Avignon, and other members of her entourage had also been removed. Nevertheless, she dissimulated her resentment, and in April, 1619, consented, at the instance of a Jesuit, Père Arnoux, whom Luynes sent to her, to sign a declaration, in which she swore “before God and His angels,” to submit in all things to the wishes of the King, and to warn him immediately of “all communications and overtures contrary to his service.”
Luynes, however, continued to offend her. At the end of 1618, an embassy from Savoy came to Paris to demand the hand of her younger daughter, Christine, for the Prince of Piedmont, eldest son of Charles Emmanuel. Marie was not consulted, the King confining himself to informing her of the betrothal; and on February 10, 1619, the marriage was celebrated without her being invited. It was the last straw; she resolved to fly at the first favourable opportunity. D’Épernon, anticipating her intention, had left Metz, towards the end of January, without permission of the King, and gone to await her in the Angoumois; and, in the night of February 21-22, Marie made her escape to Blois and went to Angoulême, whence she wrote to her son, demanding the redress of her grievances.
Luynes was at first greatly alarmed, fearing that the Princes, already beginning to show signs of irritation at the increasing power of the favourite, might join the Queen-Mother; but they remained quiet. In these circumstances, he might easily have crushed d’Épernon; but he wished to avoid war, and accordingly sent the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld and Père Bérulle, the famous preacher of the Oratoire, to propose peace to Marie, and recalled Richelieu from Avignon “to pacify her mind.” In this task the prelate succeeded, and on April 30, 1619, he signed with the Cardinal de la Rochefoucauld a treaty at Angoulême which authorised the Queen-Mother to dispose of the offices of her Household and to reside where she pleased, and gave her, in exchange for the government of Normandy, that of Anjou, with the Château of Angers, the Ponts-de-Cé and Chinon. D’Épernon, against whom the usual royal declaration had been launched, recovered his charges and appointments, and Richelieu was given to understand that he might hope for a cardinal’s hat at no very distant date.