Easily persuaded where his own interests were involved, Gaston accordingly ceased to persist, and the young and gallant Duke was abandoned to the vengeance of the Cardinal. Louis XIII was at Lyons when he received intelligence of the defeat of Monsieur; and he was no sooner assured that the rebels had not taken a single prisoner, than he determined to make an example of every leader who had espoused their cause whom he might encounter on his journey. Ere he reached his destination three noble heads fell by the hand of the executioner; but still his vengeance was not sated; nor did the exalted rank and brilliant reputation of Montmorency serve for an instant to turn him from his purpose. Private animosity closed all the avenues of mercy; and the indiscretion of one meddling spirit sealed the death-warrant of the gallant prisoner. It is asserted that when he was captured Montmorency wore upon his arm a costly diamond bracelet, containing the portrait of Anne of Austria, which having been perceived by Bellièvre, the commissary of Schomberg's army, who was greatly attached to the noble captive, he affected, in order to conceal the circumstance from less friendly eyes, to consider it expedient to subject the prisoner to a judicial interrogatory preparatory to his trial; and when he had seated himself beside him, ostensibly for this purpose, he succeeded with some difficulty in wrenching the miniature from its setting. But, notwithstanding all his precaution, the desired object was not accomplished without exciting the attention of some individual who hastened to apprise the Cardinal of what he had discovered, who at once communicated the fact to Louis, embittering his intelligence by comments which did not fail to arouse the indignation of the King, and to revive his jealousy of his wife, while they at the same time increased his exasperation against the rebel Duke.[178]
Montmorency was removed from Castelnaudary to Lectoure, and thence, still suffering cruelly from his wounds, to Toulouse, reaching the gates at the very moment when the bells of the city were ringing a joyous peal in honour of the arrival of the King, who had hastened thither in order to counteract by his presence any efforts which might be made by the judges to save his life. The Duke had been escorted throughout his journey by eight troops of cavalry well armed, his great popularity in the province having rendered the Cardinal apprehensive that an attempt would be made to effect his rescue; and while the glittering train of the sovereign was pouring into the streets amid the flourish of trumpets and the acclamations of the populace, the unfortunate prisoner was conveyed to the Hôtel-de-Ville, where he was confined in a small chamber on the summit of the belfry-tower, "so that," says a quaint old historian, "the ravens came about him to sport among the stone-crop. A hundred of the Swiss Guards were on duty near his person night and day to prevent his holding any communication with the capitouls,[179] the citizens, and the public companies of the great city of Toulouse." [180]
Immediate preparations were made for the trial of the illustrious captive; Richelieu, who could ill brook delay when he sought to rid himself of an enemy, having prevailed upon the King to summon a Parliament upon the spot, instead of referring the case to the Parliament of Paris, by whom it should fitly have been tried. Nor was this the only precaution adopted by the vindictive Cardinal, who also succeeded in inducing Louis to nominate the members of the Court, which was presided over by Châteauneuf, the Keeper of the Seals, who had commenced his career as a page of the Connétable de Montmorency, the father of the prisoner.
As the Marshal-Duke had been taken in arms against the sovereign, and frankly avowed his crime, his fate was soon decided. He was declared guilty of high treason, and condemned to lose his head, his property to be confiscated, and his estates to be divested of their prerogative of peerage.
Not only during his trial, however, but even after his sentence had been pronounced, the most persevering efforts were made by all his friends to obtain its revocation. But Louis, as one of his historians has aptly remarked, was never so thoroughly a King as when he was called upon to punish,[181] a fact of which Richelieu was so well aware that he did not hesitate to affect the deepest commiseration for the unhappy Duke, and even to urge some of the principal nobles of the Court to intercede in his behalf.
The Princesse de Condé--to win whose love Henri IV had been about to provoke a European war--deceived by the treacherous policy of the Cardinal, threw herself at his feet to implore him to exert his influence over the monarch, and to induce him to spare the life of her beloved brother; but Richelieu, instead of responding to this appeal, in his turn cast himself on his knees beside her, and mingled his tears with hers, protesting his utter inability to appease the anger of his royal master.[182]
The Duc d'Epernon, who, notwithstanding his affection for Montmorency, had declined to join the faction of Monsieur, despite his age and infirmities also hastened to Toulouse, and in the name of all the relatives and friends of the criminal, implored his pardon as a boon. Nothing, however, could shake the inflexible nature of Louis, and although he did not attempt to interrupt the appeal of the Duke further than to command him to rise from his kneeling posture, it was immediately evident to all about him, from his downcast eyes, and the firm compression of his lips, that there was no hope for the culprit.
The resolute silence of the King ere long impressed M. d'Epernon with the same conviction; and, accordingly, having waited a few moments for a reply which was not vouchsafed, he requested the royal permission to leave the city.
"You are at liberty to do so at your pleasure, M. le Duc," said Louis coldly; "and I grant your request the more readily that I shall shortly follow your example."
Nor were the citizens less eager to obtain the release of their beloved Duke; and the house in which the King had taken up his temporary residence was besieged by anxious crowds who rent the air with cries of "Mercy! Mercy! Pardon! Pardon!" On one occasion their clamour became so loud that Louis angrily demanded the meaning of so unseemly an uproar, when the individual to whom he had addressed himself ventured to reply that what he heard was a general appeal to his clemency, and that should his Majesty be induced to approach the window, he would perhaps take pity upon the people.