“The Queen is sending me to Lyons; if you have not compassion on me, I see myself the most miserable creature in the world, in such manner do they drag me about, with soldiers for my guards, as though I were a person who had merited death. I have no hope save in God and you. It would be well for you to write to Madame de Savoie,[65] to persuade her to obtain my pardon from the Queen. I am a more faithful, a more affectionate, slave to you than ever I was, and the greater my tortures, the more I adore you. Send to this Lyonnais country to ascertain where I may be. I believe that I shall not be far away from it. Alas! my heart, remember that you have promised to be faithful to me. Place me in such a position that, at least ere I die, I may be able to see you. Have no other heart than mine, or make me die first. I kiss your hands and feet a thousand times.”
On the arrival of the soldiers demanded by Gentil, Isabelle was conducted to Lyons and thence to Vienne, where she arrived on 18 July, and was incarcerated in the Château des Canoux. Here she was again examined, this time by two members of the Council, the Bishops of Orléans and Limoges, who were frequently employed in important negotiations. The two bishops brought Maulevrier with them and confronted him with the prisoner, who gave him, as may be supposed, an exceedingly warm reception, “liar,” “evil liver,” and “drunkard” being among the epithets which she hurled at his head. Maulevrier persisted in his charges, but could call no evidence to support them; Isabelle reiterated her denials. Their lordships, though they pretended to look very wise, could make nothing of the affair at all; but, since a man is not less a man because he happens to be a bishop, and Isabelle’s beauty and distress had not been without its effect upon them, they left her with a promise to intercede for her with the Queen.
Their intercession, however, does not appear to have had any effect, for the months passed, and the lady still remained under lock and key.
CHAPTER VI
Death of the Princesse de Condé—Question of the prince’s remarriage—The Maréchale de Saint-André’s bid for his hand—Rumours of a matrimonial alliance with the Guises—Catherine de’ Medici, alarmed at such a prospect, resolves to set Mlle. de Limeuil at liberty—Isabelle joins Condé at Valery—Intense indignation of the Huguenots at the scandalous conduct of the prince—Quarrel between Condé and Coligny—The leaders of the party take counsel together “to find a remedy for so great an evil”—The deputation of Protestant pastors—Condé declines to separate from his mistress, but eventually breaks with her—His marriage with Mlle. de Longueville—Condé persuaded by his wife to demand the return of the presents he has given his mistress—Revenge of Isabelle—Her marriage—Renewal of the civil war—Battle of Saint-Denis—Peace of Longjumeau—Flight of Condé to La Rochelle—Third war of Religion breaks out—Battle of Jarnac—Death of Condé.
Meanwhile, an event had occurred which had occasioned a great stir in both political camps. The gloomy prognostications of the Princesse de Condé’s physicians, which her husband had at first ridiculed, proved only too correct; all through the remainder of the spring and the first weeks of summer the poor lady was gradually becoming weaker, and by the middle of July it was plain that she had but a few days to live. To the last she was full of consideration for the husband who had shown so little consideration for her. “Fearing to distress him too much, if she told him herself that she felt death approaching,” writes her biographer, “the princess charged two grave personages, friends of her family, to go to Condé’s apartments, to acquaint him with what she foresaw must soon happen, and to ask to be allowed to entrust him with her last wishes in an authentic form. ‘Tell the prince’ said she to these two friends, ‘that, since God is pleased so soon to separate our bodies, I trust that at least our souls may continue to be bound inseparably together in the love that we ought to bear to our common Saviour Jesus Christ, who has delivered us so miraculously, in the eyes of all Europe, from so many enemies and dangers. Tell him also that,—to begin my will,—I constitute him the universal heir to the mass of love I have vowed to my children, and I conjure him, in loving them doubly henceforth both for himself and for me, to keep vigil in my place, so that they may be brought up in the fear of God, which I am convinced is the surest estate and patrimony that I can bequeath to them’”[66]
Condé appeared to be profoundly affected. He declared that he had received from the princess a lesson in courage which he should strive to follow out of love for her and her children; adding that the latter would always find him faithful to the last recommendations of their mother. “God, who joined us now divides us, since it pleases Him,” he exclaimed. “Oh! blessed will be the moment when He ordains that we shall be reunited in Heaven in an eternal bond!”
These pious expressions, which, though they may appear so out of place on the lips of the lover of Isabelle de Limeuil, were probably uttered in all sincerity, seem to have greatly comforted the poor princess, who then sent for two notaries and dictated to them her will.
Afterwards, she summoned her chaplain Pérussel, who, it will be remembered, had shared Condé’s captivity after Dreux, and another minister, and conversed with them on spiritual matters. On their departure, Condé returned to her bedside, and spoke to her some affectionate words. “Four things,” replied the dying princess, taking his hands in hers, “render me happy: the first is the assurance of my salvation, the second, the reputation of being a good wife, which, by God’s grace, I have always had; the third, the certainty that you are satisfied with me, because I have always as faithfully served, loved, and honoured you as it was possible for a wife, in this world, to serve, honour, and love her husband; the fourth, my joy that God leaves to my children a father and a grandmother who will bring them up in the fear of God, in accordance with my principal desire.” And, after a moment’s silence, she added: “And now I must finish my course to gain the prize which I see prepared for me at the end of the lists of this laborious career.”
Condé then withdrew, and the princess’s children entered to take farewell of her and receive her last recommendations.