Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XLIII.

  Space is growing short, and we have much to tell. It was several weeksafter the period of which we have just been writing when Edward Langdaleand old Clement Tournon, now restored to health and some degree ofstrength, were in the cabinet of the great minister of France. Manifoldpapers were before them, and Richelieu's brow was cloudy and stern; butthe old syndic of the goldsmiths of Rochelle was as calm, and seeminglyas much at ease, as when he first encountered Edward Langdale in thestreets of his city.

  "Your Eminence, they will not accept it," he said. "There are thingswhich you do not consider. True, they are, as you say, pressed byfamine. They may, or they may not,--for I have no correctinformation,--be forced to surrender or die for want of food within fourdays; but, if I know the people of Rochelle, they will die rather thansurrender, unless they have better terms than these. It is useless topropose them. I should be in some sort deceiving your Eminence were I tobe the bearer of such offers. I know that, without the free exercise oftheir religion being assured to my fellow-citizens, die they will,--offamine or pestilence, or by cannon-balls. I cannot undertake to proposesuch terms."

  "Are you aware," asked Richelieu, in slow but emphatic language, "that,seven days ago, George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was stabbed atPortsmouth, by an assassin named Felton, and died upon the spot?"

  Edward Langdale turned pale at the terrible news; but not the slightestmark of emotion was apparent upon the face of Clement Tournon. Old menare not easily moved; and he was thinking only of Rochelle.

  "Possibly," he said, in a quiet tone: "I always thought he would die aviolent death. But the hopes of the people of Rochelle never rested, mylord cardinal, upon the Duke of Buckingham."

  "Upon what, then, did they rest?" asked Richelieu, in some surprise.

  "Upon the hand of God," replied Clement Tournon; "upon the winds andwaves, his ministers. The storms which annually visit this coast havebeen long delayed this year. But when they do come they will come morefiercely; and every man in Rochelle well knows that the marvellous dykeyour Eminence has built will be but as a bed of reeds before them.Succor will pour in the moment the port is open, and the citizens,refreshed and comforted, will be ready to resist again all efforts tocontrol their consciences."

  "Pshaw!" said Richelieu: "this point of religion is but a name."

  "Not for the people of Rochelle," said Clement Tournon. "We are loyalsubjects of the King of France. We are willing to be obedient in alltemporal things; but we will never profess one faith while we holdanother: we will never resign our right to worship God according to ourown belief."

  "Well, well, that will be easily settled," said the cardinal, taking apen and striking three or four lines from a writing on the table. "I amnot fighting against any man's sincere faith. I am warring againstrebellion. Read that, sir. Will that be received?"

  "Not without a clause securing to the people of Rochelle the full andfree exercise of their religion," said the old syndic, resolutely.

  "That is what I mean to grant," said the cardinal,--though a slightcloud passed over his brow and seemed to indicate that the concessionwas made less willingly than he pretended. But, in truth, Richelieu hadheard that very day that the English fleet had sailed, notwithstandingthe death of the high-admiral. One severe storm, and all the labor oflong months might be destroyed, and Rochelle be as safe as ever. Therewere indications in the sky, too, which threatened such an event. "Thatis what I mean to grant," he repeated. "Have it put in what words youwill, so that nothing be inserted which shall give a turbulent peoplepretence for levying war upon their king. Call me a secretary, MonsieurLangdale."

  Edward obeyed; and the terms offered by the cardinal were written outfair, with a clause guaranteeing to the Rochellois the full andunmolested exercise of their religion. This paper formed the basis ofthat remarkable treaty, soon afterward signed, which for its moderationhas been the wonder of all historians. It is true that the Cardinal deRichelieu had many reasons for desiring peace as speedily as possible.It is true that the Rochellois had good reason to hope that relief ofsome kind would be afforded them ere long. But it is no less true thatthousands had perished of famine within those walls, and that in a fewdays more no soldiers would have been found to man the walls, andcorpses only would have opposed the entrance of the royal troops. Therecan be no doubt that a wise and politic clemency characterized theproceedings of the minister, and that, had he waited till the sickking's return to the camp, harder conditions would have been imposed. Heseems not to have heeded where the glory of success or the honor ofclemency might fall, so that his great purposes were accomplished; and,applied to his conduct toward Rochelle, as applied to a later period ofhis life, the words of one of his historians are neither fulsome norunjust when he said, "France triumphed within and without the realm.Foreign enemies themselves proclaimed the superior genius of thecardinal; and the Huguenots, even while sighing over the ruins of theirfortresses dismantled by his orders and under his eyes, could not butacknowledge his affability, his readiness to adopt all gentleexpedients, and the fidelity with which all his engagements wereobserved."

  And what became of Edward Langdale all this time? He remained in theroyal camp, not as a prisoner, not exactly free. It was impossible forhim to travel through France and to pass into England withoutsafe-conduct of some kind; and Edward soon divined that--whether fromsuspicion, or from some other motive, he knew not--Richelieu haddetermined not to let him depart till Rochelle had surrendered. Theminister became more difficult of access, also, after the king hadreturned to the camp, and the long and more familiar conversations whichEdward had enjoyed with him previously were altogether at an end. He wascourteous and kind when the young man was admitted to his presence; but,when Edward pressed for permission to depart, the answer always was, "Ina few days." On one occasion, indeed, the natural impatience of EdwardLangdale's disposition caused him to burst forth with something beyondfrankness, and he said, bluntly, "Your Eminence has promised to let mego for the last six weeks. Now, six weeks are nothing to you, but theyare all-important to me; for I have only one crown and two livres in mypocket, with two servants and myself to furnish, to say nothing of thehorses, who are as badly off as if they were citizens of Rochelle; and,besides----"

  "That will be soon amended," said Richelieu, with a slight smile. "Giveme some more paper off that table." And he wrote an order upon thetreasurer of his household for the payment to Monsieur Edward Langdaleof the usual salary of a gentleman-in-ordinary to the king.

  "My lord cardinal, how am I to take this money?" asked Edward. "Englandand France are still at war."

  "Then take it as a prisoner," said Richelieu, somewhat sternly. "Do nottalk nonsense, lad. But you said 'besides.' What is there besides?"

  "If you had read the letter I showed your Eminence," replied Edward,"you would have seen that my presence is absolutely required in Englandupon business of much importance to myself."

  "What letter? When? Oh, I remember,--when you brought me the cup. Icannot help thinking, notwithstanding, you are as well here for thetime. But, speaking of the cup, I pray you put a price upon it."

  "I cannot sell a gift that was given me by my father on my birthday. Thevery act of giving places an obligation on the receiver not to sell, butnone not to give; and I trust your Eminence will condescend to receiveit on the only terms on which I can part with it."

  "Well," said Richelieu, "I will take it on those terms, and will directmy good friend Monsieur Mulot to give you back the papers that envelopedit. They seem to belong to you; for I see the name of Langdalefrequently mentioned. Guard them safely till some more learned head thanyour own has examined them, for few men know the value of scraps of oldpaper. Sometimes they will raise a man to wealth and power, sometimesthrow him headlong down. God knows whether that same art of writing hasdone more good or harm in the world. Cadmus, who invented letters, theysay, was the same man who sowed the serpents' teeth and reaped an ironharvest. Is not this an allegory, Master Langdale?
Go and consider ofit; for I am busy just now."

  Not long after this conversation, the good but stupid Father Mulotbrought to the young gentleman the bundle of papers in which the cup hadbeen enveloped, and entered into a long disquisition upon the variousdifferences between the Catholic and Protestant faiths. He was evidentlybent upon converting his hearer from his religious errors; but Edwardwas obdurate to the kind of eloquence which he displayed, and the goodman left him rather in pity than in anger. To examine the papers wasEdward's next task; but he could make nothing of them. Some pages werewanting; others were mutilated; and, though he saw his father's and hismother's name in many places, yet but little light could be obtained asto the import of the documents in which they were mentioned. Only onegleam of significance appeared throughout the whole. There was onepassage which stated that "Richard Langdale, baronet, with the full andfree consent of his wife, Dame Heleonora Langdale, in virtue of the lastwill and testament of Henry Barmont, her uncle, lord of the manor ofBuckley as aforesaid, which consent was testified by her hand and sealunto the within-written lease and demise, did lease, give, and grantunto William Watson, his heirs and assigns, for the term of twenty-oneyears from the fifth day of----"

  There the manuscript stopped, the page which followed being torn off;but at the same time, though he had no knowledge of law, Edward couldperceive that an admission of the absolute rights of his mother over themanor of Buckley, under the will of her uncle, was implied. He resolved,then, to follow the advice of the cardinal and preserve the papers withcare. But still his detention in France was exceedingly annoying. Theletter of Dr. Winthorne had pressed him earnestly to return to England;and other thoughts and feelings were busy in his bosom urging him in thesame direction. He felt himself something more than bound--shackled--byhis engagement with Lord Montagu. Without any definite cause ofcomplaint, the links which attached him to that nobleman had beenbroken. He felt that he had been doubted without cause, that he had beenneglected and forgotten in a moment of difficulty and peril, and thatthe confidence which had at one time existed between his lord andhimself could never be fully restored. Such were the reasons which heurged upon himself to explain the desire he felt for severing theconnection. But perhaps there was another motive which he did not chooseto scrutinize so accurately. Fifteen months had passed since he hadpromised the Cardinal de Richelieu not to seek his young bride for thespace of two years, and Richelieu had promised him that at the end ofthose two years she should be his. He had no absolute certainty of whereshe was; he knew not what might have become of her; he could only framevague, wild plans for finding and recovering her; and nine months,without a long journey to England, seemed to his impatient heart notmore than time sufficient to vanquish all the obstacles which might liebetween him and her.

  In the idleness of the camp, without post, duty, or occupation, his mindnaturally rested for hours each day upon youth's favorite theme. Theimaginative--perhaps I may say the poetical--temperament which he hadinherited from his mother, and which had hitherto in life found fewopportunities of development and little or no encouragement amidst thehard realities with which he had had to deal, had now full sway, andsometimes soothed, sometimes tormented him with alternate hopes andfears.

  Lucette was often the theme of his conversation with good ClementTournon, who was daily regaining health and strength. The old syndicasked many questions as to Lucette's journey, and told Edward many ofthe rumors which had reached Rochelle; but it was evident that he knewnothing of that part of Lucette's history which was the most interestingto his young hearer. Feelings which it is needless to dwell uponprevented Edward from referring to it himself; and day after day hewould ride forth into the country alone, or walk up and down in theneighborhood of the cardinal's residence, buried in solitary thought.

  To the country-house now inhabited by Richelieu was attached a garden inan antique taste, where roses had now ceased to bloom and the flowers ofsummer had all passed away. But it was a quiet and solitary place, forthe taste of neither soldiers nor courtiers led them that way, and,though the gates were always open, it was rarely that any one trod thewalks, except one of the cooks with white night-cap on head seekingpot-herbs in a bed which lay at the lower part of the ground. EdwardLangdale was more frequently there than anywhere else; and one day,toward evening, as he was walking up and down in one of the cross-walks,he saw the cardinal come forth from the building alone and take his waystraight down the centre alley, looking first down upon the ground andthen up toward the sky, as a man wearied with the thoughts and caresand business of the day. It seemed no moment to approach him; and Edwardsomewhat hurried his pace toward a small gate at the end of the garden.He had nearly reached it when the cardinal's voice stopped him.

  "Come hither," said Richelieu, "and, if you are inclined to talk of nobusiness, walk here by me. It is strange that amongst all who are herethere is hardly one man with whom one's mind can refresh itself. Myfriend Bois Robert is too full of jest. It becomes tiresome. Good FatherMulot (whom they should have called Mulet) is full of one idea,--theconversion of heretics, by fire and sword, pestilence and famine, orwhat else you like,--though I cannot see why to prevent them from beingdamned in the other world I should be damned in this. I know the versesof Horace are against me, and that every man unreasonably complains ofhis fate; but I cannot help thinking that of all the conditions in theworld the fate of a prime minister is the most anxious, laborious, andtiresome."

  "I should think so indeed, your Eminence," said Edward, with a sigh.

  "Ha!" said Richelieu: "then you are so little ambitious as to deem ithas no advantages?"

  "Not so, my lord," replied Edward. "It has vast and magnificentadvantages,--the power to do good, to stop evil, to reward the worthy,ay, and even to punish the bad,--to save and elevate one's country. Butgreat and valuable things must always be purchased at a high price; andI can easily conceive that the sense of responsibility, the oppositionof petty factions and base intrigues, the stupidity of some men, thecunning devices of others, the importunity and the ingratitude of all,the want of domestic peace, the continual sacrifice of personal comfort,must make the high position your Eminence speaks of any thing but a bedof roses."

  "You shall have your safe-conduct to-morrow morning," said Richelieu."Such sentiments are sufficient to corrupt the whole court of France.Sir, if they were to become general, and men would but act upon them, Ishould have nothing to do. There would be nobody to envy me. Nobodywould try to overthrow me. They would only look upon me as thewheel-horse of the car of state, and wonder that I could pull along sopatiently. The ingratitude of all!" he repeated, in a meditative tone."Ay, it is but too true! Those are the petrifying waters which hardenthe heart and seem to turn the very spirit into stone. Do you know whathas been done within this hour, Monsieur Langdale?"

  "No," replied the young Englishman: "I have heard of nothing important,sir."

  "Why, I thought it must be at the gates of Paris by this time," saidRichelieu. "A treaty has been signed with Rochelle; and a good man--amarvellous good man in his way--says I am no true Catholic, because Iwill not starve some thousands of men to death or make them take themass with a lie upon their mouths. I do not understand his reasoning,but that is my fault, of course; but through this very treaty ofRochelle I think I shall make more real Catholics than he would makefalse ones. But now, Monsieur Langdale, you think I have kept you hereunreasonably; but you are mistaken. I wished to have news from variousquarters ere I suffered you to go back to England. I need not tell youto return by the month of July next; but, for many reasons, I desire youshould return before. I leave it to yourself to do so or not; but youwill find it for your benefit. To-morrow you shall have all necessarypasses,--though it is probable that the fall of this very city ofRochelle will lead to peace between France and England. If it do so,remember a conversation which took place between us a good many monthsago."

  "I will not forget it, my lord," replied Edward. "I believe I havealways kept my word to your Eminence."


  "You have," said Richelieu. "You have. Would to God I could say the sameof all men! And, now, what money will you want for your passage?"

  "None, your Eminence," replied Edward. "I have a little property inEngland, the rents of which accumulated while I was lodged and fed bygood Monsieur de Bourbonne; and I can get what I want at Rochelle."

  "Oh, go not into that miserable place!" said Richelieu,--"at least nottill all the bodies are interred and it is free from pestilence. Thissiege will ever be memorable in the annals of the world for thesufferings of the people, and for the resolution of their leaders also.I can admire great qualities even in my enemies. But here comes Tronsonto call me to the king. Come to me to-morrow."