The making of a king (15 page)

Henri, after his gay and reckless fashion, would have freely given his friend carte-blanche. The Queen, more cautious, and with comprehensible reluctance to pledge herself to unknown paths, demanded time for consideration. Thus the scene ended, and King and Queen were left to complete their tardy toilettes.

Though occasional storms were liable to disturb the tranquillity of the royal household, amicable terms at this time prevailed. The desire felt by Marie de Medicis to promote a good understanding with the house of Austria by means of a double marriage was, however, taking shape, and was destined to prove a fruitful subject of discord. At present the quarrel with Spain was in abeyance, whilst—a more important matter as regarded domestic peace—the Marquise had not yet regained the position she had held before she

was implicated in the treasonable designs of the King's enemies.

The pressing necessity of the moment was to take measures to stamp out the remnants of discontent in France. One rebel was still unforgiven, because unrepentant. In spite of Henri's craving to be at peace with all, and especially with his own subjects, the Due de Bouillon remained, protestations of loyalty and obedience notwithstanding, a centre of disaffection. In the spring of 1606 the King determined to put an end to a state of things which could not be allowed to continue without detriment to his authority, and to proceed in person to effect the reduction of Sedan, Bouillon's place of retreat.

Before starting to bring his recalcitrant vassal to an attitude of submission, he bestowed a well-earned reward upon as faithful a servant as a sovereign ever possessed. Rosny was made duke and peer, the formalities being completed on February 12.

On that day Sully, as he was henceforth to be called, had bidden a great company to dinner at the Arsenal. Returning thither with his guests, he found yet another awaiting him. Henri had arrived to grace the occasion with his presence, explaining that, though uninvited, he had come to the banquet.

" Shall I dine badly ? " he asked.

" That may well be, Sire," replied Sully, " since I did not anticipate so great an honour."

"Now I assure you it will not be the case," answered Henri merrily; " for, whilst awaiting you, I have visited your kitchens, where I saw the finest possible fish and ragouts much to my taste. Even, since you tarried too

long to please me, I have eaten some of your little oysters and drunk of your wine—the best that ever I drank."

And so the promotion of the minister was gaily celebrated.

On the following day came the discussion of grave affairs of State; and in 'especial of the projected expedition against Bouillon, and the means provided by Sully to dislodge him from Sedan.

It was March when the arrangements had finally been made, and the King took his departure from Paris. Before he did so the Dauphin was summoned to the capital, for the ostensible purpose of returning thanks to Marguerite of Valois for the inheritance she was to bequeathe him. The King may likewise have desired to introduce his son to the citizens of Paris. The child's entry was publicly made, the Prince de Conde, the Constable of France, and other nobles meeting him at Neuilly ; and on the very day of his arrival the King in person commended his heir to the gentlemen of the robe as a charge he left them during his approaching absence.

At the Tuileries the Dauphin had been met by his father and taken to visit the Queen, who had lately given birth to her second daughter, Christine ; and on the following day his visit to Queen Margot was paid in the company of the King. Henri's departure had been fixed for two days later, and on the eve of it he received the farewells of Messieurs de la Cour, again charging them with the care of his son. He was going to Sedan, he told them — summing up the situation—his arms open to receive M. de Bouillon,

The Dauphin in Paris 109

should such be the Duke's will. If not, he went to teach him his duty. Early the next morning came the leave-taking of father and son.

" Adieu, my son," said the King as he kissed the boy. " Pray God for me. Adieu, I give you my blessing."

" Adieu, papa," replied the child, " tout etonne et comme interdit de paroles."

If he was awed by the unusual solemnity of the King's manner and words, the impression will have been quickly effaced during the days passed amidst his new surroundings. Visits were to be paid, sights to be seen. Taken, doubtless by the King's orders, to the Arsenal, he was led through the galleries of arms to the ramparts, and thence to the Bastille, where, standing in the courtyard, he was greeted from a tower above by the Comte d'Auvergne.

" Good evening, Monsieur," cried the captive, " I am your very humble servant."

" God keep you, M. le Comte," replied the child, with natural courtesy.

Some months later he showed that, though he might be silent about it, he was not unacquainted with the offence the Count was expiating by his confinement.

" Is the Comte d'Auvergne still in the Bastille?" he asked, proceeding to inquire into the cause of his captivity. It was because he had been very stubborn, some one replied, improving the occasion.

" It was not that," the Dauphin answered briefly. Then, pressed to give the true reason, " It is because he wished to make war on-papa," he said, after considering the matter.

no The Making of a King

u But, Monsieur," it was objected, " he is only one man. How could he make war ? "

" With fifty thousand men,* he answered ; nor would he say from whom he had the information.

The Due de Vendome, now about fourteen, and the King's constant companion, was to join him ; and the letter he carried from the Dauphin has been preserved. He had been a great pleasure to his mother, he informed the King, had made war in her room, and had wakened the enemy there with his drum. He had visited the Arsenal, and would pray God for the King. He was very sleepy, and Fef£ Vendome would tell the rest. Two days later his visit to Paris ended.

The King's campaign was short and successful. He had left Paris on March 15. On April 4 news reached the capital of the surrender of Sedan and the submission of the Due de Bouillon.

" Ma cousine" wrote Henri to the Princess of Orange, " I will say, like Caesar, Veni, vidi, vici ; or like the song, ' Trois jours durerent mes amours et se finissent en trois jours,' so much was I in love with Sedan." The Princess would judge whether he was better acquainted with the condition of the stronghold than those who had foretold that it would take him three years to reduce it. M. de Bouillon had promised to serve him well and faithfully for the future, and he had promised-he was always ready to do it—to forget the past. To the Queen, who seems to have demurred, he characteristically explained why he could not have acted otherwise. Bouillon was in no condition to resist, so that every one would understand that his pardon was due to clemency alone.

Bouillon reduced to Submission in

On April 28 the King made his triumphant entry into Paris, accompanied by a train of nobles and princes, and bringing with him the defeated Bouillon, ver^y plainly dressed and sad of countenance.

One other ceremony remained to be performed, when the rebel Duke was brought by Henri to Saint-Germain, to kiss the hand of his heir. Thus the last remnant of disaffection was, if not removed, driven underground.

The King's successes had been joyfully celebrated by the Dauphin and his household. Yet the visit paid by Henri and the Duke was clouded for the child by one of the fits of jealousy to which he was subject. Angered by the attention his father had paid to the Verneuil children, he suddenly retired to his own apartments ; where, seating himself on a coffer, he bade the usher shut the door, and admit no one, " for fear," as he explained, "papa may see me weep."

A melancholy little figure, withdrawn from the merry-making, he had learnt that Henri-Quatre, his own emotional character notwithstanding, had no liking for tears. In spite of the strong affection uniting father and son, there was scant resemblance between the child of Marie de Medicis and the gay, brilliant, passionate Gascon. Never, says Heroard, was child more like father. One sees what one desires to see ; but with some superficial similarity in tastes — a love of outdoor pursuits and of soldiering—there was little in Louis XIII. to recall the great Henri. Brown-eyed, dark-haired, with the heaviness of feature inherited from his mother's race, he might, as Michelet observes, have been rather taken for a

Spaniard or an Orsini, a prince of the Italian decadence, his unlikeness to his father giving rise in some quarters to an urtfoundeH doubt whether he was in truth his son.

In childhood there was apparent in him at times a certain unsocial instinct totally at variance with Henri's habits, and foreshadowing the moods of melancholy to which he was subject later on. One evening this summer, when he had been dancing for the entertainment of King and Queen, he suddenly climbed on to his nurse's knee, seemed to fall asleep, and was put to bed. After the company had withdrawn, maman Doundoun, watching him, perceived that he was awake.

" Monsieur," she said, charging him with the deception, " you are not asleep."

" No," admitted the child, very low. " Is papa

?> > & ~~~ .

" Yes, Monsieur. Why did you pretend to be asleep ? "

" Because papa would not have gone away," was the reply, " and there were so many people, and I was hot."

In that same month of June an event took place, attended by no serious consequences at the time, yet not without its effect upon the royal household. In returning to Paris after a visit to Saint-Germain, the King and Queen had a narrow escape from drowning. The road was slippery ; at Neuilly the horses lost their footing, and the royal coach and its occupants were precipitated into the water.

The King had been lying at full length, asleep; Cesar de Vend6me, the Princesse de Conti, and others were

Li qderumier'nul. ttmuy ne rom>e Ainii JittelJti 'le our&eia I

Tlc.ktfu.fe. 7 rom an engraving by Tho de Leu, after a painting by F. QuesneL

HENRIETTE D'ENTRAGUES.

there, and for a moment the danger was not small. The King was seized by an attendant, who contrived to draw him out of the water, Henri himself saved his son, whilst a servant caught the Queen by her headdress, and, with the King's help, placed her in safety, the Princesse de Conti being the last to reach dry land. The most serious result of the misadventure was the use made of it by the Marquise de Verneuil, who, under cover of congratulations upon the King's escape, contrived to renew relations with him, and drew him once more into her nets. Secure in her power, she visited him in order to express her rejoicing, and did not fail to turn the incident to good account by pointing out how deplorable would have been her condition should she and her children have been left by his death in the hands of the Queen. Eager to forgive, Henri fell into the snare, forgot his just causes of resentment, again sought to induce his wife to admit the Marquise to Court, and the old condition of domestic conflict was renewed.