At the beginning of 1622, the Rochellois and the predatory nobles who made common cause with them conceived the bold project of occupying the mouths of the Loire and the Gironde, in order to hold all the commerce of those two rivers to ransom. The revolt of Royan, on the right bank of the Gironde, and the occupation of two other strong points had already resulted in the virtual blockade of that river; while Soubise, violating the oath which he had taken at the capitulation of Saint-Jean-d’Angély not to bear arms again against his sovereign, charged himself with the Loire, descended with a considerable force on Sables d’Olonne, in order to raise the Protestants of Poitou, and overran all the country up to the suburbs of Nantes.
Thus tricked by the Spaniards and braved by the Protestants, Louis XIII had to choose between his enemies. For a time he appeared inclined to listen to the advice of his mother—or rather of Richelieu—and, unknown to Condé and his supporters, authorised Lesdiguières to negotiate with Rohan. “And that nothing might be revealed,” says Bassompierre, “save to M. de Puisieux and myself, whom he commanded to keep the affair very secret, he wished that M. des Lesdiguières sent duplicate despatches; one copy to be read and deliberated upon in the Council; the other, which was private and addressed to M. de Puisieux, to be communicated only to the King, who informed me of its contents.” The negotiations progressed so far that Louis promised to receive a deputation from the Reformed churches, and threatened the Spanish Ambassador to go to Lyons and organise an army to march to the assistance of the Grisons, if Spain did not forthwith withdraw from their country and the Valtellina. But the progress of Soubise and the disobedience of d’Épernon, who declined to send troops from his governments of Saintonge and the Angoumois to the assistance of the hard-pressed Royalists of Poitou, gave the victory to Condé and his adherents; the King decided to march in person against Soubise, and, on March 20, without waiting for the arrival of the Protestant deputies, he left Paris for Orléans, accompanied by the Queen-Mother, who was determined to keep within reach of him so long as she could.
From Orléans, the King, still accompanied by Marie, proceeded to Blois, and thence by water to Nantes, where the army was to assemble, and where on the 11th he was joined by Bassompierre, who had been summoned by courier from Paris.
On his arrival at Nantes, Louis XIII learned that Soubise was endeavouring to establish himself in the Île de Rié, a maritime district of Lower Poitou, separated from the mainland by vast salt marshes and small rivers, which at high tide the sea rendered impassable. If the Huguenot leader were permitted to entrench himself there, it was a position from which it would be exceedingly difficult to dislodge him; but this the King resolved not to allow him time to do; and, leaving the Queen-Mother, who had fallen ill, at Nantes, like a true son of Henri IV, he marched at once upon the enemy.
The Royal army consisted of from 10,000 to 12,000 men; that of Soubise from 6,000 to 7,000; but the latter had the advantage of position and seven pieces of cannon; while the attacking force was, of course, unable to transport its artillery across the marshes. The enterprise would therefore have been a hazardous one, with a watchful and resolute enemy to contend with. On this occasion, however, Soubise showed neither the vigilance of a general nor the courage of a soldier. The approach of the enemy much sooner than he had foreseen appears to have disconcerted his plans altogether, and, instead of attempting to defend the approaches to the Île de Rié, he thought only of re-embarking his troops in a squadron of vessels which he had at his disposal, and making his escape with the plunder he had collected to La Rochelle.
In the afternoon of April 14, Marillac, with a small force of infantry, occupied the Île du Perrier, adjoining the Île de Rié, and early on the following morning Bassompierre was ordered by Condé to follow with the rest of the infantry. Condé then proposed that they should ford an arm of the sea “wide as the Marne,” which separated the islands of Perrier and Rié, and where at low tide, which would be at midday, the peasants had told him, the water would be only waist-deep. Bassompierre, however, protested against this, pointing out that, if the enemy offered the least opposition to their passage, the tide would rise before half the troops had crossed, and even if they were allowed to cross unopposed, they would find themselves at a great disadvantage without cavalry or cannon. He added that, apart from these considerations, he ought certainly to await the arrival of the King. “For if you defeat M. de Soubise,” said he, “he [the King] will take it ill that you have not shared the honour of the victory with him; and, if some reverse befalls you, he will blame your precipitation, and will accuse you of not having wished or deigned to wait for him.”
Monsieur le Prince took this remonstrance in very bad part, and declared that he saw plainly that Bassompierre was “of the cabal who desired to prevent him from acquiring glory.” But he sent him to the King to beg him to come at once with the cavalry, and when his Majesty arrived on the scene, it was decided to wait until midnight and to cross to the Île de Rié at another spot, where they were informed there would be less water.
In the course of the evening, Louis XIII displayed for the first time that cool courage which he invariably afterwards showed in war, and which, if it had been combined with the same degree of moral resolution, would have made him a really remarkable man:—
“While the King, stretched on a miserable bed,” says Bassompierre, “was consulting with us about the passage, a great alarm spread throughout the camp that the enemy was upon us; and, in an instant, fifty persons rushed into the King’s chamber, who declared that the enemy was at hand. I knew well that this was impossible, since it was high tide, and they could not pass. Instead, therefore, of being alarmed, I wished to see how the King would take it, in order that I might regulate the proposals which I might in future have to make to him, according to the firmness or agitation which he displayed. This young prince, who was lying down on the bed, sat up on hearing this rumour, and, with a countenance more animated than usual, said to them: ‘Gentlemen, the alarm is without, and not in my chamber, as you see; it is there you must go.’ And, at the same time, he said to me: ‘Go as quickly as you can to the Bridge of Avrouet, and send me your news promptly. You, Zamet, go out and find Monsieur le Prince, and M. de Praslin and Marillac will stay with me. I shall arm myself and place myself at the head of my Guards.’ I was delighted to see the confidence and judgment of a man of his age so mature and so perfect. The alarm was, as I supposed, a false one, arising from a very trifling incident.”
All the arrangements for the passage of the army had been entrusted to Bassompierre. The troops assembled at ten o’clock, and a little before midnight the order to advance was given. At the spot where the Guards were to cross, however, the water was so deep that they sent to inform Bassompierre that it was impossible to pass. He went there, and finding that it would be a very difficult undertaking, led them to another ford, by which he crossed himself to the Île de Rié, and saw no sign of any enemy. He returned and reported that the ford was practicable and that their passage would be unopposed, and the whole army passed without mishap; though when Bassompierre crossed for the second time, at the head of the rearguard, the tide was beginning to rise, and the water was nearly up to his chin.[5]