ABSTRACT
The future was clouded; the present situation was abundantly clear. Richelieu was in control. That was the message of the sombre procession of barges, carrying musketeers and officials, with pikemen marching along the bank, guarding Richelieu’s own barge, richly caparisoned in scarlet and gold, on the slow journey up the Rhône. From his bed, draped in purple taffeta, a wasted figure, his right arm already paralysed, he ordered the affairs of the realm. At Lyons in September, he supervised the final stages of the trial of Cinq Mars and Thou; here too he heard the news of the fall of Perpignan. From Nemours to Fontainebleau he had to submit to the painful jolting of a carriage; there he met Louis for one of the rare private talks in which these unlikely partners established the common ground which was always more important than their differences. In October, in the Palais-Cardinal, 1 he wrote a memorandum, setting out the conditions which the king should accept in future dealings with ministers: he must not let favourites interfere with political matters; he must check the truth of charges against ministers and punish those guilty of slander. To the end Richelieu had to play the political game according to the rules: the king ruled, the minister was his subject. Early in November, not having heard from Louis, he offered his resignation. Not till the 20th did Louis respond, but then exactly as Richelieu wished. He should stay in office and act with such freedom and authority as he required. A week later Cinq Mars’s remaining associates were expelled from court.
