We should blame her if she had not done so, or if, herself exiled and unhappy, she had not mingled her respectful homage with that paid by the English Court to the widow of Henri IV., the mother of Louis XIII. and of three great queens, who had just braved a seven days' tempest on the ocean, and had arrived at last, destitute, despairing, and dying—a sad object for universal pity. Richelieu, who can see nothing but politics everywhere, pretends to find intrigues and plots in this homage as well as in the visits of Madame de Chevreuse to Marie de Medicis. These are probably the accusations of which Madame de Chevreuse complains in ambiguous language in her last letters. She repels them, and with reason—she remained tranquil, and was even very circumspect as long as she preserved the hope of a sincere reconciliation with Richelieu; but when sure that he sought to deceive her, to lure her to France to have her in his power, and, in case of need, to imprison her, having broken with him, she considered herself bound by no scruple, and only thought of giving him back war for war.
A little while after the arrival of Marie de Medicis, another victim of the cardinal, another exile, interesting at least for the incredible iniquity of the judgment rendered against him, came to London to seek a refuge. This was the Duke de La Valette, eldest son of the aged Duke d'Epernon and own brother of the Cardinal de La Valette, a general and confidant of Richelieu, whose daily counsels had often saved him from impostors, and whose sword had done good service for him in the Netherlands and in Italy. The Duke de La Valette had doubtless been guilty of a great fault. When placed under the command of M. le Prince at the siege of Fontarabie, he had caused the failure of this important enterprise by not seconding his general as he ought. He had not betrayed him, neither had he any understanding with the enemy, but a fatal jealousy of the Prince de Condé had made him fail in his duty. A just punishment would have satisfied the army;
