Mlle. de Châteauneuf was so proud of the distinction which his Royal Highness had conferred upon her that she was prepared to make any sacrifice rather than lose him. Anjou already showed a marked taste for the ornaments and dress proper to the other sex—a caprice which he carried to the most extravagant lengths when he became King of France[98]—and wore habitually “a double row of rings on his fingers and pendants in his ears.” In the hope of retaining his wayward affections, the poor lady ruined herself in jewellery, and covered her royal lover with gold chains and costly trinkets of every description. He accepted them all with alacrity; nevertheless, the star of la belle Châteauneuf paled before that of the Princesse de Condé and she suffered the fate which had befallen Isabelle de Limeuil. She was not called upon to restore the presents which Anjou had made her—she had given far more than she had ever received—but, on the other hand, she had the mortification of seeing those which she had made the prince decorating the person of her triumphant rival. “In order to show,” writes Brantôme, “that he had abandoned his former mistress for her [the Princesse de Condé], and that he desired to honour and serve her entirely, without bestowing a thought on the other, he gave her all the favours, jewels, rings, portraits, bracelets, and pretty conceits of every kind which his former mistress had given him, which being perceived by her, she was like to die with mortification, and was unable to keep silence about it, but was contented to compromise the reputation of the other by compromising her own.”

The amours of Anjou and Marie de Clèves were interrupted by the outbreak of the fourth civil war. For a moment, Catherine had deluded herself into the belief that the Huguenot party was expiring at her feet, but she soon learned that religions do not die beneath the knives of assassins. Coligny, La Rochefoucauld, Soubise, Pilles, and other aristocratic leaders had perished in the St. Bartholomew; Navarre and Condé had been constrained to renounce their faith; Montgommery and La Noue were in exile; the Protestant noblesse was disheartened and disorganized by the loss of its chiefs. But the popular element in the Reform party saved it, and raised the banner which was falling from the hands of the nobility. The citizens of La Rochelle, Montauban and Sancerre continued the struggle which the Bourbons and Châtillons had begun, demanding not only religious toleration, but the redress of political grievances; and other towns in the South and West followed their example.

The Government determined on the reduction of La Rochelle, and a formidable army was despatched thither, under the command of Anjou; and the “converted” Bourbons were ordered to accompany it. The unhappy Condé must have felt that his cup of humiliation was indeed filled to overflowing when he found himself marching against the stronghold of Protestantism—against those brave citizens amongst whom he counted so many personal friends—beneath the banner of the man who, after causing his father to be murdered, had robbed him of the affection of his wife. When the siege began, he courted danger with the eagerness of a man weary of life; but, as not infrequently happens in such circumstances, the balls passed him by, and, though men fell fast around him, he himself remained unscathed.

La Rochelle offered an heroic resistance, and at the end of four months the royal army had lost nearly 20,000 men, including the Duc d’Aumale, and was no nearer success than when the trenches were opened. In the meanwhile, Anjou, thanks to the dexterity of his mother’s diplomatic agents, had been elected King of Poland; and, on the pretext that it was undesirable that the Polish Ambassadors should find him engaged in besieging a Protestant town, acceptable terms were offered to the Rochellois, and the siege was raised. A month later (July, 1573), the Edict of Boulogne granted the Huguenots even better terms than had been promised them by the Peace of Saint-Germain.

The new King of Poland seemed in no hurry to take possession of his throne, and manifested very little enthusiasm for what he regarded as a kind of exile, far removed from the Court of the Valois and the pleasures which he held so dear. He had become so desperately enamoured of the Princesse de Condé that the prospect of parting from her was extremely distasteful to him, and he also feared, that, in the event of the death of Charles IX.—the unhappy King, who had been a changed man since the St. Bartholomew, was now in consumption, and it was obvious that he had not long to live—his absence might result in his younger brother, François, Duc d’Alençon, seizing the throne. These considerations led him to linger in Paris until the end of September; and it was only when the King informed him that, “if he did not go of his own free will, he would make him go by force,” that he took his departure.

Before leaving Paris, his Polish Majesty, smitten perhaps by compunction for the shabby way in which he had treated Mlle. de Châteauneuf, sought to make amends by providing her with a husband. In this intention, he cast his eyes upon a very wealthy citizen, Duprat de Nantouillet, provost of Paris. The provost, however, showed himself very little flattered by the rôle proposed to him and peremptorily declined the lady’s hand. Transported with rage, the prince determined to be revenged, and, having taken counsel with Charles IX. and the King of Navarre, sent word to Nantouillet that they were all three coming to sup with him, and proceeded to his house, accompanied by a band of courtiers. Their visit occurred at a most inconvenient moment for the worthy provost, who happened to have selected that very day to pay off a little score of his own against some rival in love or politics, for which purpose he had concealed four bravos in his house. However, he put the best face on the matter he could, and provided his uninvited guests with a most sumptuous repast, which had such an exhilarating effect upon some of the company, that they finished up the evening by breaking open their host’s coffers, and carrying off all his silver plate and about 50,000 livres in money.

Next morning, Christophe de Thou, First President of the Parlement of Paris, requested an audience of Charles IX. and told him that this nocturnal escapade had excited the greatest indignation in the city. His Majesty swore that he had had nothing whatever to do with it, and that it was a gross calumny to assert that he was responsible. “I am delighted to hear it,” replied the magistrate, “and I am going to order an enquiry and punish the guilty.” “No, no!” cried the King, “don’t trouble yourself about this matter; simply tell Nantouillet that, if he demands satisfaction for the loss he has suffered, he will get the worst of it.”

The unfortunate Nantouillet thereupon decided to put up with the loss of his plate and money, lest a worse fate should befall him. But his troubles were not yet over, for one day, while walking in the street, he happened to meet Mlle. de Châteauneuf, on horseback. No sooner did the indignant beauty perceive the man who had dared to refuse her hand, than she rode up to him, and proceeded to belabour him soundly with her riding-whip, to the great amusement of the onlookers.

CHAPTER VIII

Departure of Anjou for Poland—Condé, compromised in the conspiracy of the “Politiques,” escapes to Strasbourg, where he reverts to the Protestant faith—Death of Charles IX., who is succeeded by the King of Poland—Flight of the new King from Cracow—Death of the Princesse de Condé: extravagant grief of Henry III.—Condé invades France at the head of an army of German mercenaries—The “Paix de Monsieur”—Condé endeavours to establish himself in the West of France—Formation of the League and renewal of the civil war—Condé refuses the hand of Mlle. de Vaudémont, Henry III.’s sister-in-law—His second Odyssey—He commands the Huguenot forces in Poitou and Saintonge—He proposes for the hand of Charlotte Catherine de la Trémoille—Letter of Mlle. de la Trémoille to the prince—He visits her at the Château of Taillebourg—Disastrous expedition of Condé against Angers—He is obliged to take refuge in Guernsey.