“The resentment of the King against the Constable increased hourly, and the latter, whether it was that he felt assured of the King’s affection, or that the important affairs which he had upon his hands prevented him thinking about it, or that his grandeur blinded him, took less care to entertain the King than he had done formerly. In consequence, the displeasure of the King augmented greatly, and every time that he was able to speak to me in private, he expressed to me the most violent resentment.
“On one occasion when I had come to see him, the Milord de Hay, Ambassador Extraordinary of the King of Great Britain, who had been sent to intervene in favour of peace between the King and the Huguenots, had his first audience of the King, at the conclusion of which he went to visit the Constable. Puisieux, according to custom, came to know from the King what the milord had said at the audience. Upon which the King called me to make a third in their conversation and said to me: ‘He [the Ambassador] is going to have audience of King Luynes!’ I was very astonished at him speaking to me before M. de Puisieux and pretended to misunderstand him; but he said to me: ‘There is no danger before Puisieux, for he is in our secret.’ ‘There is no danger, Sire!’ I exclaimed. ‘Now I am assuredly undone, for he is a timorous and cowardly man, like his father the Chancellor, who at the first lash of the whip will confess everything, and will, in consequence, ruin all his adherents and accomplices.’”
The King began to laugh, and told Bassompierre that he would answer for Puisieux’s discretion. Then he began a long tirade against his favourite, and appeared particularly indignant that the latter should, on the death of Du Vair, the Keeper of the Seals, which had occurred at the beginning of August, have persuaded him to give him the vacant post, notwithstanding that it was as contrary to usage as to common sense for a man to hold the Seals and the Constable’s sword.[1]
Bassompierre left the royal presence, feeling very uneasy. He saw clearly that Luynes was losing his hold over the King; but he knew that it might be some time before the young monarch would be able to summon up sufficient resolution to shake it off entirely; and, meanwhile, if Puisieux, whom he thoroughly distrusted, were to abuse the King’s confidence, and lead the Constable to believe that he was endeavouring to influence his Majesty against him, he would find himself in an even more difficult situation than he had the previous year. He therefore decided that his safest course was “to make some representations to him [Luynes] on the subject, for his good,” without, however, allowing the Constable to suspect that the King had spoken to him. They would probably be well received, for, since his return from Spain, the favourite’s manner towards him had been very cordial, and he appeared most anxious that Bassompierre should identify his interests with his own by marrying his niece.
“Some days after this, happening to be in his cabinet with him, I told him that, as his very humble servant, devoted to his interests, I felt myself obliged to point out to him that he did not cultivate sufficiently the good graces of the King, and that he was not so assiduous in doing this as heretofore; that, as the King was increasing in age and in knowledge of things, and he in charges, honours and benefits, he ought also to increase in submission towards his King, his master, and his benefactor, and that, in God’s name, I begged him to take care and to pardon the liberty I had taken in speaking to him concerning it, since it proceeded from my zeal and passion for his very humble service.”
The favourite took Bassompierre’s warning in very good part, but made light of it:
“He answered that he thanked me and felt obliged for the solicitude which I had for the preservation of his favour, which would assuredly be very useful and profitable to me, and that I had begun to speak to him as a nephew, which he hoped I should be in a little while; that he wished also to answer me as an uncle, and to tell me that I might rest assured that he knew the King to the bottom of his soul; that he understood the means necessary to keep him, as he had known those to win him, and that he purposely gave him on occasion little causes for complaint, which served only to increase the warmth of the affection which he entertained for him. I saw clearly that he was of the same stamp as all other favourites, who believe that, once they have established their fortune, it will endure for ever, and do not recognise the approach of their disgrace until they have no longer the means to prevent it.”
During the closing weeks of the siege of Montauban, whenever the King had an opportunity of speaking to Bassompierre privately, he “complained incessantly of the Constable.” The love—it was of a very innocent kind—which Louis had hitherto entertained for Luynes’s beautiful wife, Marie de Rohan, no longer protected her husband. This love had, in fact, changed into hatred, since his Majesty had perceived that the lady was accepting other attentions, without doubt less platonic than his.
And he took a particularly mean way of avenging himself.
“What made me think worse of him [the King],” writes Bassompierre, “was that all of a sudden the extreme passion that he entertained for Madame la Connétable was converted into such hatred, that he warned her husband that the Duc de Chevreuse was in love with her. He told me that he had said this, upon which I said to him that he had done very ill, and that to make mischief between a husband and wife was to commit sin. ‘God will pardon me for it, if it pleases Him,’ he answered; ‘but I have felt great pleasure in avenging myself on her and of inflicting this mortification upon him.’ And he went on to say several things against him, and, amongst others, that before six months had passed, he would make him disgorge all that he had taken from him.”