VOLUME IX

LES BEAUX MESSIEURS DE BOIS-DORÉ

MARIO COMFORTS MADAME DE BREUVE.

He knelt on the edge of the cushion on which she had placed her feet, and gazed at her speechless. At last he ventured to take her hands.

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VOLUME I

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XIV CHAPTER XV CHAPTER XVI CHAPTER XVII CHAPTER XVIII CHAPTER XIX CHAPTER XX CHAPTER XXI CHAPTER XXII CHAPTER XXIII CHAPTER XXIV CHAPTER XXV CHAPTER XXVI CHAPTER XXVII CHAPTER XXVIII CHAPTER XXIX CHAPTER XXX CHAPTER XXXI CHAPTER XXXII CHAPTER XXXIII CHAPTER XXXIV CHAPTER XXXV CHAPTER XXXVI CHAPTER XXXVII CHAPTER XXXVIII CHAPTER XXXIX

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS LES BEAUX MESSIEURS DE BOIS-DORÉ VOLUME I

MARIO COMFORTS MADAME DE BEUVRE MERCEDES ENCOUNTERS D'ALVIMAR BOIS-DORÉ AND JOVELIN, HIS PROTÉGÉ MERCEDES AND MARIO ENTERTAIN THE MARQUIS MARIO ESTABLISHES HIS IDENTITY THE DUEL BETWEEN THE MARQUIS AND D'ALVIMAR

LES BEAUX MESSIEURS DE BOIS-DORÉ

I

Among the numerous protégés of the favorite Concini, one of the least remarked, yet one of the most remarkable by reason of his wit, education, and the distinction of his manners, was Don Antonio d'Alvimar, a Spaniard of Italian origin, who styled himself Sciarra d'Alvimar. He was a very pretty cavalier, whose face denoted a man of no more than twenty years, although at that time he confessed to thirty. Rather short than tall, muscular without seeming to be so, skilful in all manly exercises, he was certain to interest the ladies by the gleam of his bright and penetrating eyes and by the charm of his conversation, which was as light and agreeable with the fair sex as it was solid and substantial with serious-minded men. He spoke the principal languages of Europe almost without accent, and was no less versed in the ancient languages.

Despite all these appearances of merit, Sciarra d'Alvimar formed no scheme for his own advancement amid the constant intriguing at the court of the Regent; at all events, any that he may have dreamed of came to nothing. He confessed afterward, in the strictest privacy, that he had aspired to make himself agreeable to no less a personage than Marie de Médicis herself, and to replace his own master and patron, Maréchal d'Ancre, in that queen's good graces.

But the balorda, as Leonora Galigai called her, paid no attention to the humble Spaniard, and saw in him only a paltry adventurer—a subaltern without future prospects. Did she even notice Monsieur d'Alvimar's real or feigned passion? That is something that history does not divulge and that D'Alvimar himself never knew.

It is not an unreasonable supposition that he would have been capable of pleasing the Regent by his wit and the charms of his person, had not her thoughts been occupied by Concini. The favorite was of even lower origin, and was not half so intelligent as he. But D'Alvimar had within himself an obstacle to his attainment of the exalted fortune enjoyed by the successful courtiers of the day—an obstacle which his ambition could not overcome.

He was a bigoted Catholic, and he had all the faults of the intolerant Catholics of the Spain of Philip II. Suspicious, restless, vindictive, implacable, he had abundance of faith nevertheless; but faith without love and without light, faith falsified by the passions and hatreds of a political system which identified itself with religion, "to the great displeasure of the merciful and indulgent God, whose kingdom is not so much of this world as of the other;" that is to say, if we apprehend aright the thought of the contemporary author to whom we look for information from time to time, the God whose conquests are supposed to extend through the moral world by charity, and not through the material world by the use of violence.

It is impossible to say that France would not have been subjected in some degree to the régime of the Inquisition, in the event that Monsieur d'Alvimar had obtained possession of the Regent's heart and mind; but such was not the case, and Concini, whose sole crime was that he was not noble enough by birth to be entitled to rob and pillage as freely as a genuine great nobleman of those days, remained until his tragic death the arbiter of the Regents uncertain and venal policy.

After the murder of the favorite, D'Alvimar, who had compromised himself seriously in his service in the affair of the Paris serjean,[1] was compelled to disappear to avoid being involved in the prosecution of Leonora.

He would have been very glad to insinuate himself into the service of the new favorite, the king's favorite, Monsieur de Luynes, but he could not bring it about; and, although he had no more scruples than "most courtiers of his time, he felt that he could not stoop to the shuffling of the royal party, whose policy was to yield many points to the Calvinists, whenever they saw reason to hope that they could purchase the submission of the princes who made use of the Reformed religion to forward their ambition."

When Queen Marie was in open disgrace, Sciarra d'Alvimar considered it to be for his interest to display his fidelity to her cause. He reflected that parties are never without resources, and that they all have their day. Moreover, the queen, even though she were to remain in exile, might still make the fortunes of her faithful adherents. Everything is relative, and D'Alvimar was so poor that the gifts of a royal personage, however nearly ruined she might be, offered an excellent chance for him.

He exerted himself, therefore, to assist in planning the escape from the château of Blois, even as he had been employed, several years before, in the third or fourth rôles in the various political dramas evolved sometimes by the diplomatic manœuvres of Philip III., sometimes by those of Marie de Médicis, their aim being to bring about the marriages.[2]

This Monsieur d'Alvimar was, generally speaking, sufficiently shrewd in the interests of others, discreet and ready for work; but he was often reproached with having a mania for giving his advice "where he should have been content to follow that of other people," and for exhibiting an ability of which he should have been content to leave the credit to his superiors, "being as yet only an unimportant personage."

Thus, despite his zeal, he did not succeed in drawing upon himself the queen mothers attention, and, at the time of Marie's retirement to Angers, he was lost to sight among the subaltern officers, tolerated rather than popular.

D'Alvimar was touched by these numerous rebuffs. Nothing seemed to profit him, neither his comely face nor his fine manners, nor his respectable birth, nor his learning, his penetration, his courage, his agreeable and instructive conversation: "people did not like him." He made a pleasant impression at first, but then—very quickly too—people were disgusted by a touch of bitterness which he soon displayed; or else they distrusted a flavor of ambition which he inopportunely allowed to appear. He was neither Spanish enough nor Italian enough, or, perhaps, he was too much of both: one day as talkative, persuasive and supple as a young Venetian; the next day as haughty, obstinate and gloomy as an old Castilian.

All his disappointments were intensified by a certain secret remorse which he did not reveal until his last hour, and which, as the narrative proceeds, will be forcibly dragged forth from the oblivion in which he wished to bury it.

Despite our careful investigations, we lose sight of him more than once during the years that elapsed between the death of Concini and the last year of Luynes's life; with the exception of a few words in our manuscript concerning his presence at Blois and at Angers, we find no fact worthy of mention in his obscure and unhappy life until the year 1621, when, while the king was carrying on the siege of Montauban with such ill success, young D'Alvimar was in Paris, still in the suite of the queen-mother, who had been reconciled with her son after the affair of the Ponts-de-Cé.

At that time D'Alvimar had renounced the hope of winning her favor, and perhaps he, too, in his rancorous heart called her balorda, although for the first time she had given proof of good sense by bestowing her confidence—and it was said her heart—upon Armand Duplessis. There was a rival whom D'Alvimar could hardly hope to outshine! Moreover, the queen, under Richelieu's guidance, adopted the policy of Henry IV. and Sully. She combated for the moment the Spanish influence in Germany, and D'Alvimar found himself almost in disgrace, when, to cap the climax of his misfortunes, he became involved in a most unpleasant affair.

He fell into a dispute with another Sciarra, a Sciarra Martinengo, whom Marie de Médicis employed much more freely, and who refused to acknowledge him as a kinsman. They fought: Sciarra Martinengo was severely wounded, and it came to Marie's ears that Monsieur Sciarra d'Alvimar had not scrupulously observed the laws of the duello as practised in France.

She summoned him to her presence and reprimanded him most brutally; whereupon D'Alvimar retorted with the bitterness that had been long heaping up within him. He succeeded in leaving Paris before measures were taken for his arrest, and, early in November, arrived at the château of Ars, in Berry, in the Duchy of Châteauroux.

It will be well enough to state the reasons which led him to seek that place of refuge in preference to any other.

About six weeks before his unfortunate duel, Monsieur Sciarra d'Alvimar had been brought into social relations with Monsieur Guillaume d'Ars, an amiable and wealthy young man, descended in a straight line from the gallant Louis d'Ars, who had effected the honorable retreat from Venouze, in 1504, and was killed at the battle of Pavia.

Guillaume d'Ars had been fascinated by D'Alvimar's wit and by the very great affability of which he was capable when the spirit moved him. He had not had time to become well enough acquainted with him to conceive the species of antipathy which the unfortunate young man almost inevitably inspired, after a few weeks, in those who were much in his company.

Moreover, Monsieur d'Ars was a youth with little experience of the world, and, as may well be believed, without great penetration. He had been reared in the provinces, and had just made his first appearance in Parisian society, when he met D'Alvimar, and became infatuated with him because of the superior skill which he displayed, on occasion, in horsemanship, hunting and tennis-playing. Generous and lavish, Guillaume placed his purse and his arm at the Spaniard's service, and warmly urged him to visit him at his château in Berry, whither he was recalled by business of some sort.

D'Alvimar profited discreetly by his new friend's generosity. Although he had many faults, he could not be accused of showing any lack of pride in the way of accepting offers of money, and yet God knows that he was not rich, and that the whole of his slender revenue was none too much to meet the demands of his wardrobe and his horses. He indulged in no follies, and, "by the most painstaking economy, succeeded in appearing as well clad and mounted as many others whose pockets were better lined than his."

But when he found that he was threatened with a criminal prosecution, he remembered the overtures and invitations of the young Berry squire, and adopted the wise plan of seeking refuge with him.

He judged from what Guillaume had told him of his district, that it was at that period the most tranquil province in France.

Monsieur le Prince de Condé was its governor, and, being thoroughly content with the fat sum by which he had been bought, he passed his time partly in his château of Montrond at Saint Amand, partly in his good city of Bourges, where he was heartily engaged in the king's service, and even more heartily in that of the Jesuits.

This so-called tranquillity of Berry would be considered in our day a state of civil war, for many things were taking place there which we shall narrate in their proper time and place; but it was a state of perfect peace and orderliness if we compare it with what was taking place elsewhere, and especially with what had taken place in the preceding century.

Thus Sciarra d'Alvimar was justified in hoping that he would not be molested in one of the old châteaux of lower Berry, where the Calvinists had attempted no sudden outbreaks for several years, and where the royalist nobles, former Leaguers, politiques and others, no longer had the opportunity or the pretext to revictual their men-at-arms at the expense of their neighbors, friends or foes.

D'Alvimar reached the château of Ars one morning in autumn, about eight o'clock, accompanied by a single servant, an old Spaniard, who claimed to be of noble birth, but whom want had reduced to the necessity of taking service, and who seemed in little danger of betraying his master's secrets, for he spoke very little—sometimes not three words a week.

Both were well mounted, and, although their horses were laden with heavy boxes, they had made the journey from Paris in less than seven days.

The first person whom they saw in the courtyard of the castle was its young lord, Guillaume, just mounting for something more than a morning's ride, for he was attended by several of his retainers, prepared to ride forth with him—that is to say, with their horses laden with luggage.

"Ah! you arrive in the nick of time!" he cried, hastening to embrace D'Alvimar; "I am just setting out to witness the fêtes to be given by Monsieur le Prince at Bourges, to celebrate the birth of his son, the Duc d'Enghien.[3] There will be whole days of dancing and play-acting, target-shooting, fireworks, and a thousand other amusing things. Now you have come, I will postpone my departure for a few hours so that you can go with me. Come into my house, and rest and eat. I will see to it that you are supplied with a fresh horse, for the one you are riding, well as he looks, can hardly be in condition to do eighteen more leagues to-day."

When D'Alvimar was alone with his host, he told him confidentially that he could not dream of attending any public festivities, and that what he desired of him was not to be taken to any such function, however diverting, but to be concealed in his château for a few weeks. Nothing more was needed in those days to assure oblivion touching an affair so frequent and so simple as death or wounds inflicted on an enemy, whether in single combat or otherwise. It was merely a matter of securing a protector at court, and D'Alvimar was relying upon the speedy arrival at Paris of the Duke of Lerma, whose kinsman he was or claimed to be. The duke was a personage of sufficient note to obtain his pardon, and even to place his fortunes upon a better footing than before.

Our Spaniard's version of his duel with Sciarra Martinengo—whether he attempted to explain his having attacked him in violation of the rules, or claimed to have been slandered in that respect, to Queen Marie as well as to Monsieur de Luynes—was a matter to which Guillaume d'Ars paid little heed. Like the loyal gentleman that he was, he had been fascinated by D'Alvimar, and had no distrust of him. Moreover, he was much more anxious to start than to remain behind, and it would have been impossible to surprise him when he was less inclined to discuss any question whatsoever.

So he dismissed the serious part of the affair very lightly, and was disturbed only by the possibility of being detained another day from the fêtes at the capital of Berry. Doubtless there was, behind his impatience, some amourette to be carried to a conclusion.

D'Alvimar, who saw his embarrassment, urged him to make no change in his plans, but to suggest some village or farm on his domain where he could safely remain.

"It is my desire to shelter and conceal you in my own château, and not in a village or a farm-house," Guillaume replied. "And yet I fear you will be sadly bored in such seclusion, and, upon reflection, I have thought of a better plan. Eat and drink; then I will myself escort you to the abode of a kinsman and friend of my own who lives not more than an hour's ride from here. There you will be as pleasantly entertained and in as perfect security as possible in our province of Lower Berry. In four or five days I will come and take you away again."

D'Alvimar would have preferred to remain alone, but, as Guillaume insisted, courtesy compelled him to assent. He refused to eat or drink, and, remounting at once, he followed Guillaume d'Ars, who took with him his retinue all equipped for travelling, as the road they were to take deviated very slightly from the Bourges road.

[1]Picard the shoemaker, a sergeant in the bourgeois train-bands, where he possessed great influence. Concini, having undertaken to disregard an order which Picard compelled him to obey, caused the sergeant to be cudgelled. The popular wrath was so fierce that Concini deemed his life in danger and left Paris. Two valets who had acted for him were hanged.

[2]Of Louis XIII. to Anne of Austria, and of Elisabeth, the young king's sister.

[3]Who became the great Condé.

II

They left the château by way of the warren, rode through a by-path to the Bourges highroad, from which they soon turned to the right, and then through other by-paths to the Château Meillant road, leaving on their right the baronial town of La Châtre, and finally, leaving the last-mentioned road, they descended across the fields to the château and village of Briantes, which was the goal of their journey.

As the country was really peaceful, the two gentlemen had ridden on ahead of their little escort, in order that they might converse without restraint; and this is how young D'Ars enlightened D'Alvimar:

"The friend upon whom I propose to quarter you," he said, "is the most extraordinary personage in Christendom. You must keep a close watch upon yourself in order to stifle a wild desire to laugh when you are with him; but you will be well rewarded for such tolerance as you may display of his mental peculiarities by the great kindness of heart he will manifest to everybody he meets. He is so kind-hearted that, if you should happen to forget his name and ask the first passer-by, noble or serf, where the kind gentleman lives, he will direct you, and never make a mistake as to the person you mean. But this requires an explanation, and, as your horse has no great desire to hurry, and as it is only nine o'clock at the latest, I propose to entertain you with your host's story. Listen, I begin! Story of the kind Monsieur de Bois-Doré!

"As you are a foreigner, and have been in France no more than ten years, you can hardly have met him, because he has been living on his estate about the same time. Otherwise, you would certainly have remarked, wherever you might have chanced to see him, the good, mad, gallant, noble old Marquis de Bois-Doré, to-day lord of Briantes, Guinard, Validé and other places; also, abbé fiduciaire of Varennes, etc., etc.

"Despite all these titles, Bois-Doré does not belong to the great nobility of the province, and we are related to him by marriage only. He is a simple gentleman whom the late King Henri IV. made a marquis solely through friendship, and who made a fortune, no one very well knows how, in the wars of the Béarnais. We are compelled to believe that he must have done more or less sacking and pillaging, as the custom was in those days, and as is the well recognized privilege of partisan warfare.

"I will not attempt to describe Bois-Doré's campaigns; it would take too long. Let me tell you his family history simply. His father, Monsieur de——"