In the afternoon of Sunday, February 23, as Bassompierre, who had been dining with the Maréchal de Créquy, was on his way to the Place-Royale to visit his brother-in-law Saint-Luc, his coach had to pull up, owing to the road being blocked by a waggon on which was a sumptuous four-poster bed. He sent one of his servants to inquire to whom the bed belonged, and was told that it was the property of the Abbé de Foix, a meddlesome ecclesiastic, who had been concerned somewhat prominently in the recent intrigues against Richelieu, and that it was on its way to the Bastille, whither its owner had been conveyed a prisoner that morning. From the fact that Foix had been arrested Bassompierre inferred that the Cardinal had resumed the offensive against his enemies; and this surmise proved to be only too correct.
That evening, as Bassompierre was about to set out for the house of his friend Saint-Géran, to witness a play, which was to be followed by a ball, he received a message from d’Épernon begging him to come to him at once. On his arrival, the duke informed him that the King and Court had quitted Compiègne that morning for Senlis, leaving the Queen-Mother under arrest at the château; that the Princesse de Conti had been exiled to her brother’s estate at Eu, by a lettre de cachet; that Vautier, the Queen-Mother’s first physician, had been arrested and conveyed to Senlis, and, finally, that he had learned on good authority that it had been proposed to arrest Bassompierre, Créquy, and himself. He added that no resolution had as yet been taken against Créquy or himself, but it had been decided to arrest Bassompierre when the King returned to Paris on the Tuesday, and that he had sent for him to warn him of his danger.
Bassompierre asked d’Épernon what he advised him to do, and what he proposed to do himself. The old noble replied that, if he were only fifty years old—the age of the marshal—he would not remain in Paris a single hour, and would make for some place of safety, from which he would be afterwards able to make his peace; but that, since he was nearly eighty and had no desire to play the courtier any longer at his age, he should employ all the influence he possessed to disarm the resentment of the King and the Cardinal, at least so far as to obtain permission to retire to his government and spend the rest of his days there in peace. With Bassompierre, however, the case was different. He was still comparatively young, and could afford to wait until Fortune smiled again; and he therefore advised him to leave France at once and offered him the loan of 50,000 écus to enable him to live a couple of years abroad in a style befitting his rank, which he could repay him when his exile was at an end.
“I thanked him very humbly,” says Bassompierre, “first for his good counsel and then for his offer, and told him that my modesty prevented me from accepting the latter and my conscience from following the other, since I was perfectly innocent of any offence and had never committed any action which was not rather deserving of praise and reward than of punishment; that I had always sought glory before profit, and that, preferring as I did my honour, not only to my liberty, but to life itself, I should never compromise it by a flight which might cause my integrity to be suspected and doubted; that for thirty years I had served France and applied myself to making my fortune there, and that I would not now, when I was approaching the age of fifty, seek a new country, and that having devoted to the King my service and my life, I might as well give him my liberty also, which he would soon restore to me, when he recollected my services and my fidelity; that, at the worst, I should prefer to grow old and to die in prison, judged by everyone innocent and my master ungrateful, than by an ill-advised flight to cause myself to be deemed guilty and suspected of ingratitude for the honours and charges which the King had bestowed upon me; that I could not believe that I should be thrown into prison without having committed any offence, nor retained there without any charge against me; but that, if both were to happen, I should support it with great firmness and moderation.”
He concluded by declaring that, instead of taking to flight, it was his intention to go on the morrow to Senlis to present himself to the King, in order to justify himself, if he were accused, or to go to prison, if he were suspected, or even to die, if his ill fortune or the fury of his enemies went to that extremity.
When he had finished speaking, d’Épernon embraced him, with tears in his eyes, and said: “I know not what will happen to you, and I pray God with all my heart that it may be nothing but good; but I have never known a gentleman better born than you, nor who better deserved all good fortune. You have enjoyed it up to the present. May God preserve it for you! And, although I fear the resolution which you have taken, nevertheless, after having heard and considered your reasons, I approve of it and counsel you to follow it.”
The marshal and d’Épernon then proceeded to Saint-Géran’s house, where they found Créquy, whom the duke informed of the warning which had reached him and of what Bassompierre intended to do. Créquy expressed his approval of his resolution, and said that, for his part, he should do what he could to avert the storm, but that he should not run away from it. After the ball was over, they all three went to sup at Madame de Choisy’s house, where they were presently joined by the Duc de Chevreuse, who did not appear to be much affected by the exile of his sister, the Princesse de Conti, and was as gay as usual. As they were leaving, the Comte du Plessis-Praslin, who had been sent by the King to convey to Chevreuse an official notification of his sister’s disgrace, arrived, and informed the duke that the princess had been exiled, not from any hostility which his Majesty entertained towards the House of Guise, but “for the good of his service.”
On the following morning Bassompierre rose before daybreak, and, foreseeing that, if he were arrested his house would be searched, burned “more than six thousand love-letters” which he had received from various fair ladies during his long career of gallantry, “these being the only papers I possessed,” says he, “which might be able to injure anyone a little.” This task accomplished, he set out for Senlis, in company with the Cardinal de la Valette, the Comte de Soissons, the Duc de Bouillon and the Comte de Gramont. As they were on the point of starting, Soissons warned Bassompierre that he had positive information that it was intended to arrest him, and advised him to make his escape, which he offered to facilitate. The marshal thanked him, but declined, declaring that, “as he had nothing sinister on his conscience, he feared nothing,” and that he proposed to have the honour of accompanying Monsieur le Comte to Senlis.
“On our arrival,” says he, “we found the King in the Queen’s chamber, with her and the Princesse de Guymené. He approached us and said: ‘Here is good company,’ and, then having talked a little to Monsieur le Comte and the Cardinal de la Valette, he conversed with me for some time, telling me that he had done what he could to reconcile the Queen his mother with the Cardinal, but had failed. He said nothing to me about the Princess de Conti. Then I told him that I had been warned that he intended to have me arrested, and that I had come to him in order that he might have no trouble in finding me, and that, if I knew what prison he designed for me, I would repair thither voluntarily, without his having to send me. Upon which he said these very words: ‘How, Betstein, can you have thought that I intended to do so? You know that I love you.’ And I truly believe that, at that moment, he spoke as he felt. Then they came to inform him that the Cardinal was in his chamber, and he took leave of the company, telling me to send the company which was on guard in advance early on the morrow, in order that it might be able to mount guard in Paris. Then he gave me the password.
“We remained for some time in the Queen’s chamber, and then all went to sup at M. de Longueville’s, and from there returned to the Queen’s, whither the King came after supper. I saw plainly that there was something against me, for the King always kept his head bent down, playing on the guitar, without looking at me, and during the whole evening he never spoke a word to me. I spoke of this to M. de Gramont, as we were going together to sleep in a lodging which had been made ready for us.”