The same day, about three o’clock in the afternoon, Henri IV. had quitted Paris, “very jovial and much bedecked, contrary to his usual custom,” accompanied by four coaches, “to go to meet his nymph,”[162] and proceeded to Saint-Germain-en-Laye. But the nymph did not arrive, and, in her stead, came a mud-bespattered courier with the news of the failure of the attempt. The discomfited monarch returned to Paris in a very ill-humour, and wrote a most unkind letter to Cœuvres, whom he stigmatized as “a blockhead and a fool.”
That enterprising nobleman had, it would appear, very narrowly escaped capture, having actually entered the Hôtel de Nassau before he learned that he had been betrayed. However, being possessed of a large fund of assurance, he resolved to brave the matter out, and early next morning presented himself at the palace of the Archdukes, to complain of the insult put upon the King, his master, by the precautionary measures adopted the previous evening, and of the caluminous reports that were being circulated concerning himself. The Archduke Albert replied that he himself had given no credit to these reports, but that, as the Prince de Condé had insisted on the necessity for a guard, he had felt obliged to accede to his request.
On leaving the palace, Cœuvres, accompanied by the French Ambassador, Brulart de Berny, the Sieur de Préaulx, counsellor to the Parlement of Paris, and Manicamp, governor of La Fère, proceeded to the Hôtel de Nassau, where, with much solemnity, he handed Condé a formal indictment declaring him guilty of high treason, unless he forthwith made his submission to the King. To this indictment the prince at once drew up a reply, wherein he affirmed that “he had left France to save his life and his honour; that he was prepared to return if any offer should be made him which would enable him to reside there in security; that he would live and die faithful to the King; but that, when the King should stray from the ways of justice and should proceed against him by the ways of violence, he held all such acts as should be done against him null and invalid.”[163]
After this, Condé, fearing or feigning to fear, that it was now no longer safe for him to remain in the Netherlands, determined, on the advice of Spinola and the Spanish Ambassador at Brussels, to seek an asylum at Milan. Accordingly, having exacted a solemn promise from the Archdukes that his wife should not quit their palace without his consent, on 21 February, he left Brussels secretly, in disguise, accompanied by Rochefort, Virey, and one of Spinola’s officers named Fritima, who was to act as guide and interpreter. The season was an unusually severe one, and the travellers suffered many hardships, but on the last day in March they reached Milan in safety.
The Spaniards attached great importance to the possession of Condé’s person, for, as first Prince of the Blood and next in succession to the King’s children, he might prove of the highest value to them in exciting troubles in France, should Henri IV. persist in his hostile projects against Spain, while, in the event of negotiations, his extradition might be dearly sold. In accordance with instructions from Madrid, the prince was received by the Spanish governor, Fuentes, with every possible honour, lodged in the ducal palace, and a numerous household appointed to wait upon him.
Henri IV. and his Ministers, finding persuasion of no avail with the Archdukes, had recourse to threats, and represented to them that, unless the fair Charlotte were surrendered, war would follow. “The repose of Europe rests in your master’s hands,” said the Président Jeannin to Pecquius, the Ambassador of the Archdukes in Paris; “peace and war depend on whether the princess is or is not given up.” And the King himself reminded the Ambassador that Troy fell because Priam would not surrender Helen.
The gravity of these speeches was enhanced by the warlike preparations which were in progress all over France for the execution of the “Great Enterprise”: the scheme of liberating Europe from the domination of the House of Austria and giving France her rightful place in the world, which Henri IV. had cherished ever since his accession to the throne. It was, however, believed by many that these formidable preparations had no other object than the forcible recovery of the Princesse de Condé, and Malherbe wrote—
“Deux beaux yeux sont l’empire
Pour qui je soupire.”
Such, undoubtedly, was the opinion of the Spanish Ambassador. “The King is so blinded and infatuated by his passion,” he writes to Philip III., “that I know not what to say to your Majesty concerning it, and, if I find many reasons for holding peace to be secure, in regarding affairs from a political standpoint, I find many more for holding war to be certain on the ground of love.” He goes on to say that he is informed that the King’s infatuation has reached such a point that he is ready to sacrifice everything to it. His health is much affected by it; he has lost his sleep, and some persons believe that he is losing his reason. And he adds that he is in daily expectation of seeing Henri IV. marching on Brussels at the head of a large force of cavalry.