Like Sully, he entirely failed to realise the political genius of the Bishop of Luçon, treating him and his colleagues as contemptible creatures of Concini. He writes of “the bad management of affairs, the small regard shown by the Queen-mother for the King, from whom all affairs are concealed, the unjust detention of M. le Prince de Condé and the alienation of all the other princes and great men, the ambitious designs, hurtful to France, of the Maréchal d’Ancre and of his wife, the banishment from affairs of all the old Ministers of State, and the establishment of two or three who have neither merit nor experience, except as ministering to the passions of the Maréchal and his wife (these were M. Mangot, Barbin, and Richelieu-Luçon).... Thus all things were embroiled; and in order to fortify herself against evil designs, the Queen-mother, assisted by the counsel of the said Maréchal d’Ancre and of the said _sieurs_ Barbin, Mangot, and Richelieu, Bishop of Luçon, resolved to prepare openly for war.” Pontchartrain concludes that the sole motive of this worthless and tyrannical council was to maintain the Maréchal in absolute power: also that under the confusion of war expenditure might be concealed the “great gifts, pensions and appointments” which he took from the national finances. That the Queen-mother was wrong-headed and foolish, that Concini’s haughty swagger and Leonora’s avarice and secret intrigues were hateful and degrading elements in both Court and government, no one can deny. But those who stand farther off than Pontchartrain may see what was hidden from him, and probably from many worthy persons of his day--that Barbin, Mangot and Richelieu were not unpatriotic in advising war against the rebel princes and nobles, whose motives, after all, were no purer than those of Concini. As to themselves, Barbin was a man of clean hands, a rare attribute in those days; clear-headed and wise. Mangot, if not brilliant, had the merit of being loyal to his colleagues. Richelieu, in this first short ministry, gave every sign of future greatness, and in a way which makes not only Pontchartrain, but Sully, seem unnaturally blind. Henry’s old Minister was one of those who spoke most slightingly of the man who, more than any other, was to carry on Henry’s foreign policy.