They reach Orleans.
Condé arrested.
Navarre had figured upon the journey much as a provost-marshal leading his brother to prison.[936] Now the imaginary resemblance was turned into a sad reality. On Thursday, the thirty-first of October, the Bourbons reached Orleans.[937] Their reception soon convinced them that they had placed their heads in the jaws of the lion. None of the courtiers save the cardinal, their brother, and La Roche-sur-Yon, their cousin, deigned to do them honor. That very day, after a few angry accusations from Francis, and a courageous vindication of his conduct by the chivalrous prince, Condé was arrested in the king's presence and by his order.[938] The King of Navarre also was, indeed, little better than a prisoner, so closely did he find himself watched.[939] In vain did Navarre remonstrate and plead the royal promise of security, offering himself to become a surety for his brother; the king denied redress. Then it was that Condé turned to the Cardinal of Bourbon, one of the few that had come to do him honor and said: "Sir, by your assurances you have delivered up your own brother to death."[940] Others shared in Condé's misfortune. Madame de Roye, his mother-in-law and a sister of Admiral Coligny, was brought a prisoner to St. Germain, and a careful search was made among her papers and elsewhere for the purpose of obtaining proofs of Condé's guilt.[941]
Return of Renée of Ferrara.
It was at this inauspicious moment that a distinguished princess reached Orleans, after an absence of thirty-two years from her native land, and was received with marked honors by the king and all the court, who went out to meet her and escort her to the city.[942] This was the celebrated Renée, younger daughter of Louis the Twelfth, and widow of Ercole, Duke of Ferrara, now returning, after the death of her husband, to spend her declining years at her retreat of Montargis on the Loing. The scene which she beheld awakened in her breast regret and indignation which she was not slow in expressing. To the Duke of Guise, who had married her daughter, Anne d'Este, she administered a severe rebuke. "Had I been present," she said, "I would have prevented this ill-advised step. It is no trifling matter to treat a prince of the blood in such a manner. The wound is one that will long bleed; for no man has ever yet attacked the blood of France but he has had reason to regret it."[943]
Condé's courage.
His wife repulsed.
The courage of the imprisoned prince rose with his misfortunes. The house in which he was incarcerated was flanked by a tower whose embrasures commanded the approach, the windows were newly barred, and the door was half-walled up to preclude the possibility of escape.[944] But Prince Louis stoutly maintained that it was not he that was a captive, since, though his body was confined, his spirit was free and his conscience clean and guiltless; but rather they were prisoners, who, with the freedom of their body, felt their conscience to be enslaved and harassed by a ceaseless recollection of their crimes.[945] His wife, the virtuous Éléonore de Roye, fruitlessly applied for admission in order to minister to his wants. She was rudely repulsed by the king, at whose feet she had thrown herself in a flood of tears, with the bitter remark that her husband was his mortal enemy, who had conspired not only to obtain his crown, but his life also, and that he could do no less than avenge himself upon him.[946] It was only by special effort that the few who dared avow themselves friends of the disgraced Bourbons, succeeded in obtaining for Condé legal counsel, and that these were allowed to hold brief interviews with the prince in the presence of two officers of the crown.[947] No others were admitted, save a pretended friend, to sound his disposition toward the Guises. Comprehending the motive of his visit, Condé begged him to inform those who had sent him, "that he had received so many outrages at their hands that there remained no path of reconciliation, save at the point of the sword; and that, although he seemed to be at their mercy, he still had confidence that God would avenge the injury done by them to a prince who had come at the command and relying on the word of his king, but had been shamefully imprisoned at their suggestion, in order to make in him a beginning of the destruction of the royal blood."[948]
Condé tried by a commission.
He is found guilty and sentenced to be beheaded.