CHAPTER XXXIII
A KING'S DEATH-BED
The queen-mother during that night had not thrown away her time. In the first place, she had sent her creature, Cardinal de Tournon, to the King of Navarre, and had settled terms with the Bourbons in writing. Then before daybreak she had received the Chancellor l'Hôpital, and had learned from him of the expected arrival at Orléans of her ally, the constable; L'Hôpital, by her instructions, promised to be in the great hall, which was next to the king's apartments, at nine o'clock, and to have with him as many of her partisans as he could find. Last of all, she had made an appointment for half after eight with Chapelain and two or three others of the royal physicians, whose mediocre talent was the natural-born enemy of the genius of Ambroise Paré.
Having thus taken her precautions, she was the first, as we have seen, to enter the king's chamber just as he awoke. She went at once to her son's bedside, gazed at him for a few moments with bent head, like a grief-stricken mother, pressed a kiss upon his hand, which was hanging listlessly down, and wiping away a tear or two, took her seat in such a position as to have him always in sight.
She, as well as Mary Stuart, was determined from that time on to watch over that bed of suffering, for her own purposes.
The Duc de Guise entered almost immediately. After exchanging a few words with Mary, he walked toward his brother.
"Have you done nothing?" he asked.
"Alas! I have not been able to do anything," was the reply.
"Fortune is turning against us, then," said the duke. "There is a great crowd in Antoine de Navarre's antechamber this morning."
"Have you any news of De Montmorency?"
"None at all. I have tried in vain to learn something thus far. He could not have taken the most direct road, and he may be even now at the gates of the city. If Ambroise Paré is not successful in his operation, farewell to our fortune."
At this moment the physicians who had been summoned by Catherine de Médicis entered.
The queen-mother herself led them to the bedside of the king, whose suffering and groaning had begun again.
The physicians examined the royal patient, each in turn, and then retired to a corner to consult. Chapelain proposed a poultice to draw out the foreign matter; but the others declared in favor of injecting a certain medicated water into the ear.
They were just agreeing on the last-named method when Ambroise Paré entered, accompanied by Gabriel. After having examined into the king's condition, he joined his professional brethren.
Ambroise Paré, surgeon to the Duc de Guise, whose professional renown was already established, was now an authority to be reckoned with. The physicians told him what they had resolved to do.
"The remedy proposed is inadequate, I am sure," said Ambroise Paré, aloud; "but we must make haste, for the brain will be filled sooner than I thought."
"Oh, hasten, then, in Heaven's name!" cried Mary Stuart, who had overheard.
The queen-mother and the two Guises thereupon drew near the physicians, and joined their group.
"Have you any better and more speedy means than ours to suggest, Master Paré?" asked Chapelain.
"Yes," said Paré.
"What is it?"
"We must trepan the king," said Paré.
"Trepan the king!" cried the three physicians, in tones expressive of the utmost horror.
"In what does this operation consist?" asked the Duc de Guise.
"It is little known as yet, Monseigneur," replied the surgeon. "It consists in making upon the top of the head, or rather upon the lateral part of the brain, with an instrument I have invented, called the 'trepan,' an opening about the size of an angelot."
"God of mercy!" cried Catherine de Médicis, indignantly. "Put the knife to the king's head! And you would dare to do it?"
"Yes, Madame," replied Ambroise, simply.
"But it would be murder!" exclaimed Catherine.
"Why, Madame," added Ambroise, "I propose scientifically and carefully to bore a hole in the head, which is only what the blind and heedless do every day upon the battle-field. Yet see how many such wounds are cured!"
"Will you be answerable for the king's life, Master Ambroise?" asked the cardinal; "that is the question."
"God alone has the life and death of mortals in His hand, as you should know better than I, Monsieur le Cardinal. All that I can promise is that this is the last and only chance of saving the king. Yes, it is the only chance; but it is only a chance."
"But you say that your operation may be successful, do you not, Ambroise?" said Le Balafré. "Tell me, have you ever performed it successfully?"
"Yes, Monseigneur," replied Paré,—"only a short time since upon Monsieur de la Bretesche, at the sign of the Red Rose, in Rue de la Harpe; and to mention a case of which Monseigneur may perhaps have some knowledge, I performed it at the siege of Calais upon Monsieur de Pienne, who was wounded while fighting at the breach."
It may have been with intention that Ambroise Paré recalled the memory of Calais. It is certain that he succeeded, and that the Duc de Guise seemed moved.
"Yes, I remember," said he, "I have no longer any hesitation; I consent to the operation."
"And so do I," said Mary Stuart, enlightened, no doubt, by her love.
"But not I!" cried Catherine.
"What, Madame! not when you have been told that it is our only chance?" said Mary.
"Who says so?" demanded the queen-mother. "Master Ambroise Paré, a heretic, forsooth! Besides, it is not the opinion of the physicians."
"No, Madame," said Chapelain; "and these gentlemen and myself protest against the remedy that Master Paré proposes."
"Ah, do you hear?" cried Catherine, in triumph.
Le Balafré, in great agitation, led the queen-mother into the embrasure of a window, and said in an undertone, with clinched teeth,—
"Madame, hearken to me! You wish that your son should die, and the Prince de Condé should live! You are in accord with the Bourbons and the Montmorencys! The bargain is made, and the spoils divided in advance! I know everything! Take care! I know everything, I tell you!"
But Catherine de Médicis was not one of those who are easily intimidated; and the Duc de Guise made a serious mistake. She only understood the better how essential it was for her to adopt a bold course, since her enemy thus removed his mask. She cast a withering glance upon him, and breaking away from his grasp with a sudden movement, ran to the folding-doors, and herself threw them open to their fullest extent.
"Monsieur le Chancelier!" she cried.
L'Hôpital, according to the orders he had received, was waiting in the large hall. He had collected there all of the partisans of the queen-mother and the princes whom he had been able to find.
At Catherine's call he came quickly forward, and the group of nobles pressed inquisitively toward the open door.
"Monsieur le Chancelier," continued Catherine, raising her voice that she might be heard by all, "it is proposed to authorize a violent and desperate operation upon the person of the king. Master Paré proposes to pierce his head with an instrument of his own devising. I, his mother, with these three physicians, protest against this crime. Monsieur le Chancelier, record my protest."
"Close that door!" cried the Duc de Guise.
Despite the remonstrances of the gentlemen collected in the great hall, Gabriel did as the duke ordered.
The chancellor alone remained in the king's chamber.
"Now, Monsieur le Chancelier," said Le Balafré, "be pleased to understand that the operation which has been mentioned is absolutely necessary; and that the queen and myself, lieutenant-general of the kingdom, will be answerable, if not for the operation, at all events for the surgeon."
"And I," cried Ambroise Paré, "at this supreme moment, assume all the responsibility that you choose to impose upon me; yes, I consent that my own life may pay the forfeit if I do not succeed in saving the king's. But, alas! it is full time. Look at the king! look!"
François lay there, livid, without motion, and with dull, lifeless eyes, and seemed to see and hear nothing,—scarcely to exist, in fact. He no more responded to Mary's caresses or her beloved voice.
"Oh, hasten, hasten, in the name of God!" she said appealingly to Ambroise. "Oh, try to save the life of the king, and I will protect yours!"
"I have no right to forbid these proceedings," said the impassive chancellor; "but it is my duty to state the protest of Madame the Queen-mother."
"Monsieur de l'Hôpital, you are no longer chancellor," rejoined the Duc de Guise, coldly. "Go on, Ambroise," he said to the surgeon.
"We will withdraw," said Chapelain, speaking for the physicians.
"So be it," replied Ambroise. "I must have most perfect quiet around me; so leave me, if you please, gentlemen. For the sake of being sole master for the moment, I assume the sole responsibility."
For some moments Catherine neither spoke nor moved. She had withdrawn to a window, and was looking out into the courtyard, where there was a great commotion; but in the crisis that was approaching, no one beside herself paid any heed to the tumult without.
All others, even the chancellor himself, had their eyes riveted upon Ambroise Paré, who had resumed the cool demeanor of a great surgeon, and was making ready his instruments.
But just as he was leaning toward François, the uproar came nearer, and seemed to be in the adjoining hall. A bitter and joyous smile played about the bloodless lips of Catherine. The door was violently thrown open; and the Constable de Montmorency, in full armor, appeared threateningly upon the threshold.
"I arrive most opportunely," cried the constable.
"What means this intrusion?" demanded the Duc de Guise, laying his hand upon his sword.
Ambroise Paré had no choice but to stay his hand. Twenty gentlemen accompanied Montmorency, and poured into the chamber after him. At his side were Antoine de Navarre and the Prince de Condé. Moreover, the queen-mother and L'Hôpital joined them. There was no longer any hope of maintaining the mastery even by force.
"In my turn," said Ambroise Paré, hopelessly, "I withdraw."
"Master Paré," cried Mary Stuart, "I, the queen, command you to proceed with your operation!"
"But, Madame," replied the surgeon, "I told you that most perfect quiet was necessary! and you see!" he added expressively, pointing to the constable and his train.
"Monsieur Chapelain," said he to the first physician, "try your injection."
"That will take but an instant," said Chapelain, quickly. "Everything is prepared."
With the assistance of his confrères, he injected his preparation into the king's ear.
Mary Stuart, the Guises, Gabriel, and Ambroise allowed them to do as they chose, and said nothing; they were completely crushed, and as if turned to stone.
The constable chattered away like a madman.
"This is very well!" said he, well pleased with the forced docility of Master Paré. "When I think that if it had not been for me you would have opened the king's head in such fashion! Kings of France are only wounded so upon the battle-field, do you see? The steel of an enemy may touch them, but a surgeon's knife never!"
And then, exulting over the dejected attitude of the Duc de Guise, he continued,—
"It was quite time that I should arrive, thank God! Ah, Messieurs, they tell me that you proposed to cut off the head of my dear brave nephew, the Prince de Condé! But you aroused the old lion in his lair, and behold him! I have delivered the prince; I have addressed the States-General, who are restive under your oppression. I have, as constable, dismissed the guards you stationed at the gates of Orléans. Since when has it been customary thus to furnish guards to the king, as if he were not safe in the midst of his loyal subjects?"
"Of what king are you speaking?" demanded Ambroise Paré; "for soon there will be no king save Charles IX.,—for you see, Messieurs," said he to the physicians, "that despite your injection, the brain is already affected, and is beginning to be filled."
Catherine de Médicis clearly read in the hopeless air of Ambroise that all hope was at an end.
"Your reign is over, then, Monsieur," she could not forbear remarking to Le Balafré.
François II. at that moment suddenly raised himself in bed, opened his great staring eyes, moved his lips as if struggling to pronounce a name, then fell heavily back upon his pillow.
He was dead.
Ambroise Paré, with a sorrowful gesture, made the fact known to those present.
"Ah, Madame, Madame! you have killed your son!" cried Mary Stuart to Catherine, leaping toward her in a frenzy of despair.
The queen-mother bestowed upon her daughter-in-law a venomous, icy glance, in which shone all the hatred she had concealed for eighteen months.
"You, my dear," she sneered, "have no longer the right to speak thus, remember; for you are no longer queen. Ah, I beg your pardon!—queen of Scotland. And we will send you over as soon as possible to reign in your land of fogs."
Mary, with the reaction inevitable after her first burst of grief, fell on her knees, exhausted and sobbing bitterly, at the foot of the bed where the king was lying.
"Madame de Fiesque," continued Catherine, calmly, "go at once and bring the Duc d'Orléans."
"Messieurs," she resumed, glancing at the Duc de Guise and the cardinal, "the States-General, which were devoted to you, it may be, an hour since, are now at our service, be assured. It is understood between Monsieur de Bourbon and myself that I shall be queen-regent, and he lieutenant-general of the kingdom; but you are still grand master, Monsieur de Guise. Therefore perform the functions of your office, and announce the demise of King François II."
"The king is dead!" said Le Balafré, in a deep, hollow voice.
The king-at-arms cried aloud on the threshold of the apartment, according to ancient ceremonial,—
"The king is dead! The king is dead! The king is dead! Pray God for the salvation of his soul!"
"Long live the king!" replied the first gentleman of the chamber.
At the same moment Madame de Fiesque brought the Duc d'Orléans to the queen-mother's side, who took him by the hand, and led him out to show to the courtiers, who were lustily shouting,—
"Long live our good king, Charles IX.!"
"Our fortunes are at an end now!" said the cardinal, gloomily, to his brother, as they were left standing almost alone.
"Ours, perhaps, but not that of our family," replied the ambitious Duc de Guise. "We must think now about preparing the way for my son."
"How can we renew our alliance with the queen-mother?"
"Oh, let us leave her to quarrel with her Bourbons and her Huguenots," said Le Balafré.
They left the room by a secret door, still busily conversing.
"Alas! alas!" murmured Mary Stuart, kissing the cold hand of poor François; "there is no one but me to weep for him, my poor darling, who loved me so dearly."
"And me, Madame," said Gabriel de Montgommery, who had thus far kept in the background, but now came forward with tears in his eyes.
"Oh, thanks, my friend!" said Mary, with a grateful look in which her whole soul shone out.
"And I will do more than weep," said Gabriel, beneath his breath, following from afar, with an angry eye, the Constable de Montmorency, who was strutting about beside Catherine de Médicis. "Yes, perhaps I may avenge him, when I begin anew the unfinished work of my own vengeance. Now that this constable has returned to power, the contest between us is not at an end!"
Thus, even in the presence of death Gabriel, alas! kept in view his personal affairs.
Surely Regnier la Planche was right in saying "that it is a bad thing to be king simply to die."
And he was equally right when he added, "During the reign of François II. France was the theatre whereon were enacted many horrible tragedies which posterity will contemplate with wonder and abhorrence.”