The conditions of the Edict of Grace were less severe than had been feared, except as regarded the political guarantees, and some authors have loudly extolled the clemency of the cardinal. If it be sought to establish the opinion that he was more tolerant than other churchmen, because he had more genius, and that he was a better statesman, we shall accord with such an opinion without difficulty. But it must not be forgotten that Richelieu, being leagued with the Swedish and German Protestants for the humiliation of the house of Austria by the sword of Gustavus Adolphus, could not treat the French Reformers with excessive rigour. Nor must it be forgotten that, in France itself, having to combat against the great (Roman) Catholic noblemen, against the king’s brother, the queen-mother, and the reigning queen, the prime minister of Louis XIII. would have been mad to have pushed a whole people to despair, who, in a case of extremity, might have compromised his fortunes and those of the kingdom itself. Richelieu was generous perhaps, but he was, above all, prudent. The town of Montauban was the last to submit. It remembered with pride the heroic resistance it had opposed to the royal troops, and its inhabitants, accustomed to self-government from the commencement of the religious wars, felt a great repugnance to “_return to their duty_,” as the phrase then was. Two deputies came from Nismes with an envoy of Richelieu, to exhort them to submission. The people wished to preserve their ramparts: they obtained nothing, and the most determined at length perceived that to continue the struggle had become impossible. Montauban opened its gates; and on the 21st August, 1629, its inhabitants witnessed the entry of Marshal de Bassompierre, with a part of the army, the pope’s nuncio, the first president of the Parliament of Toulouse, and lastly, Cardinal de Richelieu, who presented himself as one who had gained a triumph. When the ministers of the religion came to pay their respects to him, he consented to receive them, “_not as forming a church body_,” he told them, “_but as a people following the profession of letters_.” This was indeed carrying fiction a little too far. He celebrated mass in one of the churches of Montauban, instituted convents for the Jesuits and Capuchins, and ordered the demolition of the walls. Then he resumed his journey to Paris, surrounded with more homage than Louis XIII. himself ever received from his people.