The Eastern Border, Duke Gaston's Troops:
The Duc d'Orléans rode his horse, impressively flanked by Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand and Gaston's chosen commanders; each of the commanders had distinguished military careers, yet felt disgruntled for lack of promotion and recognition by the king. The awe-inspiring cadre looked grand riding in front of the massive army raised for the sole purpose of unseating the King of France.
The duke's majestic white steed was adorned with a saddle blanket of blue with gold fleur-de-lis, identifying him with the House of Bourbon-Orléans. Blue bard decorated the horse across the flank of the stately animal from his broad chest to the neck, and continued to the steel face guard glistening in the sunlight. The duke's own breastplate glinted with flashes of sunlight, giving him and his horse a glowing appearance.
The blue flag of the House of Bourbon-Orléans stood singular in amongst a sea of blue pennants and banners hoisted high, flapping noisily in the breeze; it gave the approaching army a resplendent look. All activity in the mountain village of Chambéry ceased as townsfolk lined the streets to watch the unusual and rare sight of such an impressive army, led and commanded by nobility.
The last of the village residents slowly dissipated after the large army marched through, heading on the road northwest toward Lyon. As Duke Gaston's army marched west, Brigadier General Antoine d'Aumont de Rochebaron and Colonel Jean de Gassion led their French soldiers east, determined to put a stop to the rebellious attempt to seize and dethrone King Louis XIII of France.
At last, fate had brought two grand armies together in the small commune of Bourgoin-Jallieu. Thundering hooves, from the hundreds of horses, shook the ground and rose up a tumultuous noise. Soldiers, armed with spears, rode forward, each prepared to pierce and destroy their enemy. Behind the cavalry marched thousands of foot soldiers in two opposing armies. One army prepared to die for king and country; the other, for a duke with delusions of grandeur.
The cavalry clashed, horse on horse; steel speared flesh of horse and soldier alike in a frenzied amalgamation of opposing armies, each with a distinct desire for victory. Resounding noise erupted as the lines of infantry, in perfect linear formation, exchanged volleys of gunfire. Rank upon rank of soldiers were felled like a crumbling wall, but still the ranks marched forward; the soldiers stepped over the dead, growing quickly in number, without pause.
Duke Gaston's army, though larger in number, was no match for the French army led by commanders of military talent and genius. The best military talent the duke could muster were former army captains who never had their chance at glory, and one Colonel Édouard Le Marchand, who wasn't fond of the king and his politics.
In the storm of lead and cannon shot, and gleaming steel of sword and spear alike, officers in command of Duke Gaston's rebel army were cut down; hope of winning the battle fell with their well-intentioned leaders. Colonel Marchand's horse was hit and fell dead underneath its rider. Before horse and rider even hit the ground, the colonel was shot through the chest; both fell to the ground dead, their blood pooling as one.
Upon seeing their inspiring colonel fall, it quickly deflated the determination and esprit de corps among the troops; the soldiers recognized the futility of the fight and began retreating. In a matter of hours, the rebel army was vanquished and the soldiers, who managed to survive the horrors of the conflict, rushed eastward in retreat toward the safety of the mountains and the Valetelline Pass of Italy.
Witnessing the melee of the battle ahead Gaston, Duc d'Orléans, rode further and further behind his troops, seeking safety from the deadly cannon shot and rain of musket balls. Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand took Gaston's lead and also fell back further behind the danger. Duke Gaston's shoulders drooped and his head hung low with hopelessness; a defeated realization dawned as the battle to defeat French army troops, sent by the king to thwart his brother's act of treason, was lost.
Gaston knew that if he were to be caught and taken back to Paris, it would mean certain death. He had to leave France immediately. The duke exchanged glances with Ferdinand before turning his horse and galloping ahead of his retreating troops; he quickly sped away to avoid certain capture by the king's soldiers. He retreated south, back into the village of Chambéry; this time without regal banners, pomp and splendor, and without his grand army marching behind him.
The Duc d'Orléans made his final ride through Chambéry as a defeated commander, retreating in shame and running away to save his own life. Gaston ran from the brother he wanted so desperately to see grovel at his feet, begging for mercy as he took his place on the throne as King of France. Now he ran, from the very same brother who would have him hanged for attempting such a vile act of treason.
Gaston safely made it through the Valtelline Pass then he turned his horse north for the long and arduous ride toward the safety of the Spanish Netherlands. Duke Gaston wiped away the tears of shame as they slipped from his downcast eyes and rolled down flushed cheeks- red with the embarrassment of defeat.
Castelnaudary, Duke of Montmorency's Army:
Lieutenant General Henri Turenne and his second-in-command, Colonel François de Créquy, marched with their army of six thousand troops south; as Henri II, Duc de Montmorency, and his second-in-command, Brigadier General Achille d'Étampes de Valençay, marched with their army of seven thousand troops north toward Toulouse.
As fate would have it, the two opposing armies met in the village of Castelnaudary, a land that long ago had seen sieges and battles for power, but nothing so tragically accursed as the Languedoc Rebellion that would leave its soil stained red with blood.
The Duke of Montmorency watched with wonder; his heart beat wildly as the vast army approached in front of him. He had seen awe inspiring sights like this before, such as when he led French soldiers to victory against Spanish troops in Avigliana—but this was not Avigliana.
At Castelnaudary, Duc de Montmorency led troops of men raised in his own Languedoc region; but now his enemy was his own beloved French Army, whose soldiers were led by two of France's most brilliant commanders, both of whom he knew well.
The duke shifted nervously in the saddle then glanced at the cavalry soldiers around him on horseback. He nodded with satisfaction at the thousands who marched on foot behind the cavalry; they held their lances high so the steel tips gleamed in the bright sunlight. As the enemy drew close, Henri de Montmorency took a deep breath and waved his sword that he was ready. "Those who love me and are with me, follow!"
At his command, the horsemen rushed forward into a firestorm of lead and unforgiving enemy lances. The gallant duke pressed forward, through rank after rank into the enemy formation, until he was six ranks deep. In the midst of mayhem and chaos, the duke's horse was mortally wounded, torn apart by shot and lance. As the daring horse was killed, his noble and fearless rider was also hit. Together, dead horse and wounded rider fell to the ground where they were immediately surrounded; their gallant charge in battle was now over.
The Duke of Montmorency lay trapped underneath the dead weight of his lofty steed; though he struggled to free himself, he had not the strength to move the bloodied animal. French soldiers recognized their former general and mourned over him, believing that he was dead as he lay covered in blood from the horse.
The French soldiers pulled the duke from underneath the animal to find him alive, but severely wounded; his face was covered in blood as he bled heavily from being shot through the cheeks. Looking around the battlefield in bewilderment, the duke realized that his infantry support had never followed behind him on his cavalry charge, but had retreated in terror.
"I sacrificed myself to ungrateful cowards," Duc de Montmorency told the French soldiers. The men still looked upon their former general with respect and admiration for his brave, though futile, charge. Four soldiers gently picked up the duke then carried him to the rear lines; he was surrendered to the commanding officers, who received him with high esteem and honor, as due a French general.
Earlier, when the Duke of Montmorency and his cavalry advanced through enemy rank, the infantry commander, Brigadier General Achille d'Étampes de Valençay, thought further attack was futile and had thrown down his sword. "Sound the retreat, I will play this game no further."
Brigadier General de Valençay and his infantry retreated. Duc de Montmorency's raised troops from Languedoc scattered; some of them traveled back home to southern France, while others headed north to escape capture.
The former French general, Henri II, Duc de Montmorency, was carried away on a litter to Toulouse but was refused treatment for his wounds. Instead, he was charged with treason and sentenced to die upon the king's orders.
The conspiracy to overthrow Louis, King of France, had failed; all the guilty parties had either retreated in panic or were to await death on charges of treason, including Pierre La Porte, the queen's spy, who was now imprisoned at the Bastille. The most famous of the conspirators was the queen herself, Queen Anne of Austria.
Finally Rochefort would have his revenge against the queen for denying him. At last, he would have the last laugh as he watched Anne die for conspiring against the king with no possible alibi to save her.
Part II
A Quartet of Conspirators and the Bastille:
Queen Anne sat at her desk nervously writing a letter that would be the single most important letter she had ever written—one that could save her life. On the flip side, if the letter was found, it most certainly would lead to her death. The queen confided in her most trusted Ladies-in-Waiting, Louise and Claire, entrusting them with separate missions that would play a part in saving her life.
Claire was instructed to dress as a commoner and go at once to Marie de Hautefort's residence; Marie was requested to come to the palace for the morning's breakfast detail dressed as a kitchen servant.
In the kitchen at breakfast, Louise would pass the secret letter from the queen to Mademoiselle Marie de Hautefort with instructions for her to deliver the letter to Pierre La Porte, presently imprisoned at the Bastille.
The queen instructed La Porte to corroborate her story about corresponding with her brother, Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand; the correspondence was simply in regard to her brother's travels to Paris at a time convenient to the king and to himself.
The letter Rochefort confiscated from Pierre had been wisely coded with the request for Ferdinand to reschedule his plans, just in case the letter was found. Surely, Rochefort would have no proof of treason in such innocent correspondence if Pierre corroborated her story.
The queen decided it would be best to put a message to both Marie and Pierre on the same paper, reducing the risk of multiple pages getting lost or confiscated. Anne took a deep breath and checked one last time over her letter.
My Dearest Friends Marie and Pierre,
Marie, it is vital that you get this letter to Pierre La Porte inside the Bastille as quickly as possible. Rochefort has convinced my husband to charge me with treason for conspiring against the King of France. I will certainly be hanged or beheaded if found guilty of said charges. Do whatever you must to get this letter passed through to Pierre, using whatever means possible.
Pierre, we must corroborate our stories as to the nature of correspondence with my brother, Ferdinand, as being simply for the arranging of a convenient time at which he could travel from Spain to Paris to visit me. My letters were never more than of personal nature and hopeful plans to visit with a brother that I have not seen in years. Please answer interrogations with this reason—as truth—as my life is depending on your confession.
Your Most Humble Servant, Anne
The queen folded the letter and gave it to her Lady-in-Waiting, Louise. "Please, wait for Marie in the kitchen with this letter tomorrow morning at breakfast. Do not let anyone see you pass this letter to her; make sure that no one is watching. Also, make sure she is not being followed."
"Yes, Your Majesty." Louise curtseyed and took the letter. She immediately slipped the letter into her dress, down her cleavage beside her breast, tucking it safely where it would not fall out. "You can count on me to get this to Marie, I promise you."
"You can count on me as well, Your Majesty," Claire curtseyed. She then departed to go change clothes before undertaking the important task of telling Marie de Hautefort to come to the palace in the morning for the letter exchange.
"May success be yours tomorrow, as my life is depending on it," the queen said, squeezing Louise's hands nervously. "God go with you."
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Louise curtseyed once again then left with the letter; she returned to her quarters where she would wait until sunrise to deliver the most important letter she had ever handled in her life.
Next Morning:
Louise rose early and dressed as a commoner for the breakfast detail; she hoped she would easily blend in among the kitchen staff. She made herself busy, helping to prepare the juice as she spotted Marie de Hautefort arriving with a group of kitchen staff. The ladies exchanged glances as Louise announced that she needed more oranges from the pantry; she breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed that Marie followed behind her.
Looking around, making certain everyone was busy getting the morning meal ready for the king, they stepped into the pantry where Louise passed the letter to Marie; the courier then slipped it deep inside her dress, tucking it beside her breast, close to her armpit. Without a word spoken, the ladies exited the pantry and parted ways. Louise finished her juicing, while Marie stepped out of the kitchen with a pastry basket and then boarded a carriage going to town to buy food for the kitchen.
Marie de Hautefort asked to be let off at the market where she slipped away, blending in with the morning crowd. The courier's heart beat wildly as she headed toward the most infamous prison in all of Paris, the Bastille.
The Bastille:
At the gates of the Bastille, Marie introduced herself as Madame de Villarceaux, the waiting-maid of Chevalier de Jars, another inmate of the prison. This prisoner was important as he was an ally of the queen, in whose collaboration she could trust, and his involvement was vital to the success of the covert mission.
Chevalier de Jars was classified as a prisoner of 'lesser security risk'; this allowed him the privilege of having his maid bring food and other necessities to him at the prison, which she did quite often. Marie arrived at the gate and was then led to the prison cell containing her desired contact, Monsieur de Jars; there she gave him a basket full of breads and fruit.
Marie waited until the guards were busy with another prisoner to retrieve the letter then surreptitiously slip it into Chevalier de Jars's hand; the secret dispatch was quickly tucked into the sleeve of his prison garb and hidden from sight. The undercover courier thanked the guards profusely as they escorted her out of the prison to the front gates; her part in this life-or-death mission was now successfully complete. She let out the breath she had been holding, nearly falling over from the sudden drop in adrenaline, as her heart pounded in her chest.
Mademoiselle Marie de Hautefort took a carriage home as she furiously fanned herself, emotionally drained after completing the most frightening mission of her life for the Queen of France. Marie's important part in the mission to save the queen's life was over. The queen's life now rested in the hands of a prisoner at the Bastille who must smuggle the letter to the rightful recipient; this feat alone would take a great deal of cooperation and trust.
Chevalier de Jars was a prisoner with relaxed privileges who knew exactly where the especially guarded prisoner, Pierre La Porte, was located. The problem was that La Porte was located two floors beneath his prison cell and de Jars was not allowed to visit that floor. It would be a risky undertaking, a dangerous challenge to get this secret letter down two stories and would require the cooperation of prisoners he did not know.
Prisoner de Jars was a crafty fellow who learned it was easy to win the friendship of his fellow prisoners when rare delicacies, such as fresh pastries and fruit, were shared. Once their friendship and loyalty were won with the promise of more treats, the prisoner directly below his floor was instructed to bore a hole in the wooden floor of his cell; he was then instructed to pass along the secret letter to the prisoner below him, Pierre La Porte.
The prisoners at the Bastille had very little time during which they were unguarded, so coordinating efforts of boring holes in the floor to pass along the letter proved challenging. The first passing of the letter from Chevalier de Jars' floor to the cell beneath him was made when sudden gunfire erupted outside the fortress, alarming the guards as they rushed to secure the prison.
Chevalier de Jars passed the letter from the queen down through the floor on a long string which dropped into the hands of the prisoner below. "Wait until you have the hole bored, and there are no guards around, before you attempt to pass that letter on to the cell below you. Until then, you must keep it hidden at all cost; it is a matter of life and death. Do you understand me?" de Jars asked.
"I understand," the prisoner replied. "You do not have to worry, the guards will never know of this letter; you have my word."
"I hear the guards returning!" de Jars warned. "Hide the letter and do nothing until you have the time to pass it without getting caught." He quickly lay on his bunk and feigned sleep until the guard passed; only then did he let out the breath he had been holding with a sigh of relief.
Now, the fate of the queen lay in the hands of a prisoner, a common criminal de Jars barely knew; yet he had no choice but to trust the loyalty of a criminal to complete this most dangerous task in order to save their queen.
The prisoner waited until morning, when the guards performed their daily ritual of ridding the slop waste from the prison, to bore the hole in the floor then pass down the letter to Pierre La Porte waiting below. Finally, the letter was in the possession of the intended spy, on whose word the very life of Queen Anne of France depended.
When Rochefort interrogated, and even tortured, according to witnesses testifying before King Louis, Pierre La Porte did indeed corroborate the queen's confession that the correspondence with her brother, Ferdinand, was nothing more than a personal request for a visit. This satisfied the king and he pardoned his queen of the charges of treason. The king signed the papers, exonerating Pierre La Porte as prisoner of the court, securing his release from the infamous Bastille.
"You were very brave, Your Majesty." Lady-in-Waiting, Louise, bowed to her queen.
"As were you, Louise, and everyone else involved," the queen replied. "Each of you put your own lives at risk in order to save mine and I will forever be your debt. I will no longer conspire with Gaston. I have learned my lesson and will never again become involved in any of his schemes; too many lives were risked—and lost—because of our ill-fated plan. Never again," she resolved.
"No more conspiracies, Your Majesty," Louise agreed. "But we will have to be even more secretive with your letters to Ferdinand and to the Duke of Buckingham."
"Indeed," Queen Anne replied with a frown. "I fear my life will never be the same; I believe I will never be trusted by His Majesty or Rochefort again. I am the Queen of France, yet I am nothing more than a prisoner within these walls. I am a prisoner of Rochefort and the next person who succeeds him. I will never be free."
Palais du Louvre:
News of the victories that had stopped the ill-fated rebellion on the southern and eastern fronts soon reached the king and his council of advisors, including Captain Tréville. The court was informed of the capture of thousands of enemy troops and their leader, Henri II, Duc de Montmorency. King Louis was also informed of the escape of Gaston, Ferdinand, and General de Valençay, as well as thousands of Spanish soldiers who were seen heading west.
"I must return to Blois, Your Majesty," Captain Tréville informed the king. "My men are still wounded and are oblivious to the events that have happened. They are vulnerable to attack if Spanish soldiers make it that far west," the captain frowned. "Your Majesty, I request permission to take a squad of Musketeers with me to Château de Blois to protect my men against soldiers coming their way, Sire."
"Agreed, Captain," King Louis said, nodding his permission. With that, the captain bowed then left the palace to round up six Musketeers; the elite soldiers rode south to protect their four wounded brothers who lay vulnerable in Blois.
"I hear Duke Gaston has fled to Brussels," laughed a Spanish soldier. "His château is without a master; his casa, our casa. I'm going to be rich! I will take what I want; if anyone tries to stop me, I will shoot them dead."
"Si, kill anyone who gets in our way." The Spanish soldiers laughed as they rode west toward the town of Blois and the Château de Blois, unbeknownst to the four wounded and sick Musketeers within.
Château de Blois:
"I feel strange," Athos thought as he sat up on the bed. "Aramis, what is wrong with you, why are you so upset?"
Aramis acted like he didn't hear but continued shaking the shoulders of his patient as he screamed in panic. Athos couldn't tell who the medic was yelling at, nor could he hear what was being said; the sounds were muffled, the voices distant and strange.
Athos stood and walked toward the door, pausing to take one last look at the scene on the bed. He froze as fear suddenly assailed him; he felt as though he had been hit in the chest with a club. It knocked the breath from his lungs with a whoosh of air.
He stared at the man lying on the bed; he noticed the left arm, tightly wrapped with a bandage, as it dangled over the edge. The sheet was bunched at the head of the bed, a large corner tossed without care into a pot of lukewarm water. The patient was pulled over the lap of a physician, who then pounded on his back again and again.
Porthos and Aramis stood at the foot of the bed watching in horror as the doctor frantically tried to save his patient's life. The larger man wrapped his arm around the medic's shoulder then pulled him in to tenderly whisper in his ear that everything was going to be alright.
Athos turned his head to look at the unmoving form of the young Gascon lying on a cot near the bed. His head was wrapped with a thick bandage covering his forehead; several bruises and lacerations on his bare chest stood out on the pale skin.
D'Artagnan's right shoulder was wrapped tightly with a bandage, but Athos could see angry bruises extending down the arm beyond the bandage. "Aw, d'Artagnan, my young friend and brother," his voice cracked, making him pause.
"You came to the garrison challenging me to a fight; you were belligerent and cantankerous," he huffed with amusement. "You wanted to kill me." Athos paused, casting his eyes to the floor as he remembered the heated encounter with the Gascon.
"Over time, I grew to see greatness in you that was buried underneath your anger and animosity." Athos looked again at his two oldest and dearest friends; both stood, as though transfixed, watching as the doctor desperately worked on saving the patient.
Athos smiled as he looked between his two friends and then again to the unmoving Gascon. "We came to accept you, not just as a Musketeer, but as a brother; you became our little brother. Somehow you worked your way into our brotherhood. you became the fourth member of the Inseparables without notice or intent… it just happened."
"How will they all cope without me?" Athos wondered as he mentally pictured his brothers going on without him. "D'Artagnan, well, he'll learn to get along without me—he's young and strong. Besides, he has his beautiful Constance to help him through the grief. . . and he still has Aramis and Porthos."
Athos' heart felt as though it had suddenly dropped to his feet at the thought of his two friends dealing with the grief of his death. "How wouldthey deal with my death? We've been friends for so long; would they be able to go on as Musketeers without me?"
"Being a Musketeer is all that Porthos ever wanted to be—he's the best I know." Athos smiled as he watched his large friend. "He wouldn't give up his aspirations—his career—as a Musketeer because of me, would he?"
"What of Aramis?" Athos watched the panicked medic and sank down into the chair beside him. "Would Aramis leave the Musketeers to become a priest like he always wanted? No, he cannot leave! I think he should stay with the Musketeers, stay with Porthos and d'Artagnan and they should all carry on."
"Would my death really have that much of an impact, anyway?" he wondered. "I'm a washed-up comte; a husband who tried to hang his wife; brother to a favorite, but dead, son. I'm a drunk."
"I could walk away now and it would finally be over; the pain, the suffering, the loss, the emptiness… the grief."
"But what of my brothers…"
~§~
"Please, Athos, don't do this!" Aramis cried. "You're our brother and we love you! Please, don't leave us; what would we do without you?"
"We need you, brother," Porthos choked on his tears. "Please fight this… fight for us … please."
"Wait, I can hear them… how can that be?" Athos stood to his feet. "They want me to fight. . ."
Suddenly, the Musketeer gasped as agonizing pain gripped his chest. He could faintly hear his brothers ordering him to fight, ordering him to breathe, as his world faded again to darkness.
A/N:
Gaston and his trouble-making:
Gaston believed that since Louis and Anne had not produced any heirs that he would be better suited for the throne and did conspire in 1626 to overthrow Louis and take his place on the throne with Anne as his queen—the planned failed. In 1632, when Duke Gaston wanted to marry the beautiful daughter of the Duc d'Lorraine, King Louis refused because France and the duchy of Lorraine were enemies. So again, Gaston raised troops with the attempt to depose his brother, but the attempt failed. Also, Gaston and his mother, Marie de Médici, and Queen Anne were involved in a conspiracy to dismiss and/or kill Cardinal Richelieu but it was learned by the cardinal and was thwarted. As punishment, the Queen Mother was banished from France and lived out her days in Brussels, dying penniless.
When Marie de Médici was exiled from Paris by King Louis in 1631 for demanding Richelieu's dismissal, the Duke of Orléans declared his support for the Queen Mother and began raising troops, but instead fled to the duchy of Lorraine. In January 1632 he secretly married Marguerite, sister of Charles IV, Duc de Lorraine. A few days later Louis XIII's troops invaded Lorraine and forced the Duc d'Orléans to flee to the Spanish Netherlands. Gaston re-entered France with an army in July to join a revolt led by the powerful Duc de Montmorency, governor of Languedoc. On the suppression of the rebellion in September in Castelnaudary, Gaston was pardoned; but the Duke of Montmorency was executed in Toulouse. Again, Gaston retreated to the Spanish Netherlands. Richelieu allowed him to return to France in 1634. The birth of the dauphin Louis (King Louis XIV) in 1638 squashed Gaston's hopes of ever succeeding to the throne.
In this chapter, I used Brigadier General Achile d'Étampes de Valençay as the second-in-command who did not back up Henri, Duc de Montmorency in the Battle of Castelnaudary but it was actually Gaston, (who I had with Cardinal-Infante Ferdinand in Chambéry). Since Gaston could not be in two places at once, BG Valençay had to take his place as the one who called for retreat, when in reality, it was Gaston who did. The words spoken (by Valençay) "sound the retreat, I will play this game no further." were the ACTUAL words spoken by Gaston at the Battle of Castelnaudary as he threw down his sword and fled!
BG Valençay WAS indeed at Castelnaudary and was one of the commanders who also retreated; he hid in shame, finding exile in Malta.
But the saddest part of this conspiracy was the betrayal of Henri II, Duc de Montmorency by Gaston. Henri had led a gallant cavalry charge into six lines of "enemy" infantry, mortally wounding his horse, and himself falling wounded. The charge COULD have been a success IF the Duke of Montmorency had been supported by the thousands of infantry behind him, led by Duke Gaston and BG Valençay. But instead, Gaston called for retreat, throwing down his weapon on the field, leaving the Duke of Montmorency to fend for himself. The dialogue that I used were Henri's actual words; as were the words spoken by Gaston—though they were spoken in the story by Valençay.
The Duke of Montmorency was recognized by the French Army troops who treated their former general with utmost respect and honor. The people of France protested the charges of treason, with penalty of death, imposed by Cardinal Richelieu and King Louis, but the king would not reverse his decision. Henri sent to Cardinal Richelieu a highly prized picture of St. Sebastian as his final gift-the very one who orchestrated to have Duc de Montmorency killed- was sent a prized gift by him. Wonder if it shamed the cardinal… or if guilt penetrated his heart in any form? Somehow, I doubt it.
Henri II, Duc de Montmorency was escorted by four companies of soldiers, with more soldiers lining the streets and squares of town, to his execution site in Toulouse France. It is said that even the judges had to "look down to hide their tears as others buried their faces in handkerchiefs."
His last words were to a Jesuit priest, "I pray you, prevent, if you may, my head from falling to the earth; recover it, if possible."
The general was executed to the cries of the crowd, who then dipped their handkerchiefs in his blood, as he was believed to be a martyr. King Louis jailed his widow for 8 months in the Château de Moulin for no reason, other than being Duke Henri's wife.
So ends this conspiracy!