The famous Conference of Loudun assembled on the 13th of February 1616; but as the Prince de Condé presented no less than thirty-one articles for consideration, many of which required careful examination, it was mutually agreed that the truce should be prolonged until the decision of his Majesty might be formed. The position of the Court was, moreover, rendered more difficult from the fact that several great nobles, who had not hitherto openly espoused the faction of the rebels, hastened to swell their ranks, not with the intention of caballing against the Government, but simply of being included in the concessions to which it was evident that the Council would be compelled in order to accomplish a peace. Among others the Duc de Vendôme, who had so recently solicited his pardon, and declared his intention of adhering to the royal cause, was conspicuous in the ranks of the enemy; together with the young Duc de Candale, the son of D'Epernon, who had embraced the reformed faith, the Duc de Piney-Luxembourg, and the Dowager Countess of Soissons, who withdrew from the Court at Tours, and joined her son at Loudun. This example, contemptible as it was, proved contagious, and was followed by two of the greatest Princesses of the Blood, the Dowager Princesses of Condé and Longueville,[219] to the extreme annoyance of the Queen-mother, who was aware of the extent of their influence, and quite alive to its probable consequences.
Meanwhile both armies were suffering so severely from extreme cold and scarcity of provisions, that more than ten thousand men fell victims to exposure and famine; and the bodyguard of the King became at length so much weakened that he found himself compelled to summon the Swiss under Bassompierre for the protection of his person.
The demands with which Condé and his partisans opened the Conference were such as required little deliberation; but as the proceedings advanced they became more and more onerous; until, finally, as the Council had foreseen, they all resolved themselves into questions of individual interest. The Duc de Longueville claimed full authority over all the fortresses in his government of Picardy which were held by the Maréchal d'Ancre, and refused to accede to any terms with the Crown until they were given up; while the other Princes and nobles asked either gratuities for themselves, or vengeance upon their enemies; and all agreed in claiming the payment of their troops by the royal treasury before they would consent to lay down their arms.[220]
Finally, on the 5th of May, the Conference was closed; several of the articles presented by M. de Condé having been conceded, others deferred, and the remainder conditionally agreed to. In the meantime, however, the Prince had been taken seriously ill, and the fear that he might not survive so threatening an attack determined the leaders of his faction to accept whatever terms the Court should decide to offer. While the disease was at its height, the Princes and royal commissioners assembled about his bed, where the English Ambassador also presented himself; but, although he had taken so active a part in the reconciliation about to be effected between the Crown and the rebel nobles, M. de Villeroy vehemently refused to permit him to remain, declaring that upon such an occasion it was impossible to allow a foreigner to interfere between a sovereign and his subjects. This dispute was followed by a second, the deputies of La Rochelle having demanded a continuance of their assembly; a demand which was opposed with such warmth and violence that M. de Condé, unable to support the disturbance, weakened as he was by the fever which preyed upon him, commanded instant silence; and desiring that a pen might be brought to him, together with the edict of pacification which had been drawn up, he forthwith affixed his signature to the document, declaring that those who loved him would do the same, while such as refused to follow his example should be compelled to do so. He then pronounced a short prayer, in which he thanked God for the cessation of hostilities, after which he desired to be left alone; and on the morrow preparations were commenced for disbanding the rebel troops.[221]
This apparent precipitation did not, however, involve any sacrifice either on the part of the Prince himself or on that of his principal adherents, since Richelieu has recorded that the peace for which M. de Condé so piously uttered his thanksgiving cost Louis XIII upwards of six millions of livres;[222] every individual of mark having cause to feel satisfied with the result of the Conference save the Protestants, who, as a body, derived no benefit whatever from the treaty.[223]
Concini, who had remained in Paris during the absence of the Court, had meanwhile been subjected to a mortification which, to his haughty spirit, far exceeded a more important evil. The citizens who had continued to keep watch and ward, despite the cessation of hostilities that had taken place, persevered in requiring that all who entered or quitted the capital should be provided with passports; a formality with which the arrogant Italian considered it unnecessary to comply; and, accordingly, when on one occasion he was about to proceed to his house in the faubourg attended by some of the gentlemen of his suite, he had no sooner reached the Porte de Bussy, where a shoemaker named Picard was on guard, than this man compelled his carriage to stop, and demanded his passport. Enraged by such a mark of disrespect, the Maréchal imperiously ordered his coachman to proceed, but this was rendered impossible by the threatening attitude of the well-armed guardian of the gate.
"Rascal!" shouted Concini, showing himself at the door of the carriage; "do you know who I am?"
"Right well, Sir," was the unmoved reply; "and nevertheless you shall not stir a step beyond the walls without a passport."
The Italian was pale with indignation, but he dared not resent the insult, as a crowd was rapidly collecting from whom he was aware that he could expect no mercy; and he accordingly restrained himself sufficiently to despatch a messenger for an order of egress, which promptly arrived. His southern blood, however, beat and burnt in his veins, and he awaited only an opportunity of revenge. A few days subsequently, unable any longer to control his rage, he desired his equerry to proceed to the residence of Picard with two valets, and to repay his insolence by a sound cudgelling; an order which was so implicitly obeyed that the unfortunate shoemaker narrowly escaped with his life; while a mob, attracted by the uproar, seized the two serving-men—who, confiding in the power of their master, treated their menaces with contempt—and hanged them before the door of the house in which they had committed the outrage. The equerry, who had also fallen into the hands of the populace, was put upon his trial, and it was only by means of a heavy bribe that the discomfited Maréchal, alarmed by what had taken place, was enabled to induce Picard to withdraw his accusation against him.[224]