Such was the draft as delivered to the Secretary of State; “and as such it was sent,” said Sully, “unless Villeroy changed it, as he had a great desire to do.”

Henry was mistaken in supposing that the Archduke would leave the letter without an answer.  A reply was sent in due time, and the permission demanded was not refused.  For although France was now full of military movement, and the regiments everywhere were hurrying hourly to the places of rendezvous, though the great storm at last was ready to burst, the Archdukes made no preparations for resistance, and lapped themselves in fatal security that nothing was intended but an empty demonstration.

Six thousand Swiss newly levied, with 20,000 French infantry and 6000 horse, were waiting for Henry to place himself at their head at Mezieres.  Twelve thousand foot and 2000 cavalry, including the French and English contingents—­a splendid army, led by Prince Maurice—­were ready to march from Holland to Dusseldorf.  The army of the princes under Prince Christian of Anhalt numbered 10,000 men.  The last scruples of the usually unscrupulous Charles Emmanuel had been overcome, and the Duke was quite ready to act, 25,000 strong, with Marshal de Lesdiguieres, in the Milanese; while Marshal de la Force was already at the head of his forces in the Pyrenees, amounting to 12,000 foot and 2000 horse.

Sully had already despatched his splendid trains of artillery to the frontier.  “Never was seen in France, and perhaps never will be seen there again, artillery more complete and better furnished,” said the Duke, thinking probably that artillery had reached the climax of perfect destructiveness in the first decade of the seventeenth century.

His son, the Marquis de Rosny, had received the post of grand master of artillery, and placed himself at its head.  His father was to follow as its chief, carrying with him as superintendent of finance a cash-box of eight millions.

The King had appointed his wife, Mary de’ Medici, regent, with an eminent council.

The new nuncius had been requested to present himself with his letters of credence in the camp.  Henry was unwilling that he should enter Paris, being convinced that he came to do his best, by declamation, persuasion, and intrigue, to paralyse the enterprise.  Sully’s promises to Ubaldini, the former nuncius, that his Holiness should be made king, however flattering to Paul V., had not prevented his representatives from vigorously denouncing Henry’s monstrous scheme to foment heresy and encourage rebellion.

The King’s chagrin at the cautious limitations imposed upon the States’ special embassy was, so he hoped, to be removed by full conferences in the camp.  Certainly he had shown in the most striking manner the respect he felt for the States, and the confidence he reposed in them.

“In the reception of your embassy,” wrote Aerssens to the Advocate, “certainly the King has so loosened the strap of his affection that he has reserved nothing by which he could put the greatest king in the world above your level.”