Read The making of a king Online
Authors: Ida Ashworth Taylor
Tags: #Louis XIII, King of France, 1601-1643
If the discomfiture of Sully's foes had been complete, their hatred for the man who had triumphed over them was not thereby lessened, and his control over the King's expenditure could not fail to continue an ever-present source of irritation. Neither did he lay himself out either to win popularity or to cause what was stigmatised as niggardliness to be condoned by reason of any graciousness in his manner of practising it. Rough to discourtesy, he disdained the arts of conciliation. Moreover, the fact that, whilst serving the King with zeal and integrity, he had not been neglectful of his personal interests or omitted to build up his private fortune, did not tend to diminish the dislike felt for him.
Nor had his enemies lost hope of final success. Again and again, as they saw their master roused to anger by the plain speech of the one man who dared to oppose his wishes, and to tell him unpalatable truths, fresh expectations were raised in the minds of the courtiers surrounding him that, notwithstanding past disappointment, the fall of the minister was at hand ; but, though impatient of Sully's reprimands, veiled in the language of a courtier, Henri ever overcame his
momentary resentment, and remained true to his old love and trust.
One scene out of many may serve to give a picture of the singular relationship established between the two. On this occasion master and servant had strongly disagreed on the subject of some project upon which the King was bent; and, Amoved to hot indignation, Henri had parted from his monitor in anger; observing, as he left the chamber where the discussion had taken place, in a voice plainly audible to the courtiers awaiting him outside, that he would no longer bear with the Duke's behaviour—that he did nothing but contradict him and think ill of all he wished to do, adding that he would not see him again for a fortnight.
The access of passion on the King's part was eagerly noted by those whose hopes would have been crowned had a permanent breach ensued. Was it possible that at length Sully had gone too far, and that the efforts to compass his ruin, hitherto futile, were to prove successful ? It is easy to imagine the excitement produced at Court ; but a surprise awaited the expectant courtiers.
Early the next morning the King had risen. By seven o'clock he was again at the Arsenal, going unannounced to knock at the door of the Duke's own chamber. When it was opened Sully was discovered already seated at a great table covered with papers. The King proceeded to make inquiries as to his occupation.
" What were you doing ? " he asked.
Sully's answer was ready. He had been engaged in
writing letters, and making memoranda concerning matters connected with the royal service, together with an agenda of all the business to be transacted that day, by himself or by his secretaries.
" Since when have you been thus occupied ? " was Henri's next question.
" Since three o'clock this morning," replied the minister.
Henri turned to one of the men by whom he had been accompanied.
"Well, Roquelaure," he asked, "what would you take to lead a like life ? "
Roquelaure confessed that not the contents of the royal treasury would suffice to bribe him, and was, with the rest of Henri's attendants, dismissed ; the King remaining to discuss matters of business with the Duke. Their nature is unrecorded. It is not impossible that, hoping by kindness to win Sully's consent to the projects he had at heart, Henri had renewed the conversation which had ended so ill upon the preceding day ; for when the minister replied he observed coldly that his Majesty having examined into the facts, made up his mind, and his judgment being superior to that of any of his subjects, nothing more remained to be said. Obedience must be rendered his orders, together with approval of all that was :o be done, without reply or remonstrance, since by
<' ese last the King was displeased. The transparent humility and perfunctory tribute his superior wisdom were in no wise gratifying to a an who rated them, as no doubt Sully intended him o do, at their true value. Tapping the Duke upon
***^i
:
the cheek, Henri displayed a thorough comprehension of the meaning of his unwonted subservience.
" Oho/' he said, " you are still angry at what occurred yesterday. Now I am no longer angry. Embrace me, and treat me with as much freedom as usual. If you acted otherwise, it would be a sign that you had ceased to take thought for my affairs ; and even if it makes me angry at times, I desire that you will continue, for I do not love you the less. Did you cease to contradict me, I should believe you bore me no more affection."
The master deserved the servant, the servant the master, and, in spite of what was afterwards alleged in some quarters, it can hardly be doubted that Henri was true to the minister to the end. Sully's office however was no sinecure. Not only was he overwhelmed with public business, but in the disputes becoming daily more embittered between the King and his wife he was frequently called upon to act the ungracious part of mediator, not without risk of incurring the resentment of both belligerents. Talking the matter over at a later date with Mezeray, Sully told him that he had never known a week pass without a quarrel, and that the Queen's passion on one occasion reached such a height that, afraid that she would strike the King, he himself had forced down — with less respect than he could have wished — the hand she had lifted ; adding that, though Marie had charged him with having given her a blow, she had afterwards acknowledged that he had done right.
It appears that, no less than Henri, she testified a fitful desire to avail herself of the Duke's advice as
From an engraving by W. Holl.
24]
MAXIMILIEN DE BETHUNE, Due de Sully.
Sully and the Queen 125
to her dealings with her husband ; and that she would consult him upon the most private questions is shown by a curious incident related by Richelieu, who had learnt it from Sully himself.
On this occasion she took counsel with the Duke as to whether it would be well to act upon a suggestion hazarded by Concini, and inform Henri that certain persons attached to the Court had made love to her. The favourite had been present when she broached the subject, and so long as he assisted at the conference Sully declined to give an opinion. The affair, he said roughly, was of a nature so different from those of which he had the care that he was incapable of tendering any advice upon it. When the Italian had withdrawn, however, he adopted another tone, warning the Queen strongly against the proposed step, as being one calculated to rouse the King's suspicions. Every one knew, he told her bluntly, that a man did not make love to a woman of her rank without having first made sure that she would not dislike it, and unless she had come half-way to meet him. The King might either imagine she had acquainted him with the matter lest he should learn it elsewhere ; or that she had tired of the men she accused because others had been found more to her liking. Marie was convinced by the Duke's reasoning and remained silent.
Early in the year 1607 the ^domestic contest had reached a crisis. The King, in anger, had left the palace without taking leave of his wife. Before quitting Paris for Chantilly, he visited Sully at the Arsenal, told him what had occurred, and presumably invited
the intervention of the minister, as that afternoon the Duke repaired to the Louvre to seek an interview with the Queen.
He found her shut up in her chamber. Leonora Concini, who was seated outside it, asleep, her head leaning on her elbow, informed the visitor, when he roused her, that she had been unable to gain access to her mistress's presence. Sully was more successful. Admitted to Marie's apartment, she proved to be engaged in inditing a letter to her husband, in no wise adapted to further the cause of peace. In deference to his remonstrances, she consented that the Duke should draw up an epistle containing her sentiments couched in less offensive language, to be then sent to the King as her own. When this had been done Sully, with an approving conscience, withdrew, congratulating himself upon the dispatch of a missive with which it would have been difficult to find fault.
Yet the matter of it, whatever might be the form, was not calculated to commend itself to the King. Well worded and dignified, it contained a protest against the King's subjection to a woman constituting a danger, not only to the Queen and to her children, but to the tranquillity of the State, which was dependent upon the legitimacy of the royal children, called in question by the Marquise and her adherents. Should Marie, by no other means, be enabled to induce the King to change his present line of conduct, she warned him of her intention, as a last resource, of bringing his son and daughters to fling themselves, with their mother, at his feet in the attempt to make their supplications heard. Were Henri to listen to their prayer, the Queen
added a solemn undertaking that she would abandon, for her part, any idea of vengeance ; would never work, or permit to be worked, any evil to her rival or her children, and would endeavour to please the King in every respect.