+------------------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's note. | | | |The original punctuation, language and spelling have been | |retained, except where noted at the end of the text. | |The [oe] ligature has been rendered as oe. | | | |Alternative spellings: | |Château: Chateau | |Châteauneuf: Chateauneuf | |Châtillon: Chatillon | |Claire Clémence de Maillé: Claire Clemence de Maillé | |Gondi: Gondy | |Guéméné: Guéménée, Guyméné | |heyday: heydey | |Hôtel, hotel: Hotel, hotel | |Meilleraye: Meilleraie | |Montrésor: Montresor | |Münster: Munster | |Orléans: Orleans | |Scudery: Scuderi | |Séguier: Seguier | |Sévigné: Sevigné | |strenuously: strenously | |Tallemant des Réaux: Tallement des Réaux, Tallemant de Reaux| +------------------------------------------------------------+

 POLITICAL WOMEN. 

 BY

 SUTHERLAND MENZIES, AUTHOR OF "ROYAL FAVOURITES, " ETC. 

 IN TWO VOLUMES. 

 VOL. I. 

 HENRY S. KING & CO. , 65, CORNHILL, AND 12, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON. 

 1873. 

 [_All rights reserved. _]

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 

 PART I. PAGE

 INTRODUCTION vii

 BOOK I. 

 CHAP. I. --Anne de Bourbon (sister of the Great Condé) 3

 II. --The Duchess de Longueville 12

 III. & IV. --The Duchess de Chevreuse 17, 35

 BOOK II. 

 CHAP. I. --Anne of Austria's Prime Minister and his policy 43

 II. --The Duchess de Montbazon--Affair of the dropped letters--The Quarrel of the rival Duchesses 66

 III. --The _Importants_ 77

 IV. --Conspiracy of the Duchess de Chevreuse and the Duke de Beaufort to get rid of Mazarin 82

 V. --Failure of the plot to assassinate Mazarin--Arrest of Beaufort--Banishment of Madame de Chevreuse and dispersion of the _Importants_ 99

 VI. --Results of the quarrel between the Duchesses--Fatal duel between the Duke de Guise and Count Maurice de Coligny 110

 BOOK III. 

 CHAP. I. --The Duchess de Longueville and the Duke de la Rochefoucauld 121

 II. --La Rochefoucauld draws Madame de Longueville into the vortex of politics and civil war 131

 III. --The Duchess de Chevreuse driven into exile for the third time 143

 IV. --Fatal influence of Madame de Longueville's passion for La Rochefoucauld--The Fronde 149

 V. --Madame de Longueville wins over her brother Condé to the Fronde 161

 VI. --The causes which led to the _coup d'état_--The arrest of the Princes 168

 VII. --Madame de Longueville's adventures in Normandy--The _Women's War_ 178

 BOOK IV. 

 CHAP. I. --The Princess Palatine 187

 II. --The young Princess de Condé conducts the war in the south 203

 III. --State of Parties on the liberation of the Princes 214

 IV. --The Duchesses de Longueville and de Chevreuse and the Princess Palatine in the last Fronde--Results of the rupture of the marriage projected between the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse 221

 V. --Condé, urged by his sister, goes unwillingly into rebellion 257

 VI. --Madame de Longueville coquets with the Duke de Nemours 262

 BOOK V. 

 CHAP. I. --Condé's adventurous expedition 275

 II. --Political and gallant intrigues--The Duchess de Châtillon's sway over Condé--Shameful conspiracy against Madame de Longueville 290

INTRODUCTION. 

IN selecting the careers of certain celebrated women who have flungthemselves with ardour into the vortex of politics, the author's choicehas not been so much an arbitrary one as it might seem, but ratherguided by instances in which the adventurous game has not beenrestricted to the commonplace contentions of the public platform, or theprivate salon, but played on the grandest scale and on the mostconspicuous arena; when Peace and War, crowns and dynasties, havetrembled in the balance, and even the fate of a nation has been atstake. 

The untoward results of the lives thus devoted--dazzling and heroic assome passages in their dramatic vicissitudes may appear--point the moralof the futility of such pursuit on the part of the gentler sex, andindicate the certainty of the penalty to be paid by those who byventuring into the fervid, exhausting struggle, and rashly courtingexposure to the rough blows of the battle of political life, with itscoarse and noisy passions, have discovered too late that the strife hasdone them irreparable injury. In the cases of those selected it will beseen that the fierce contention has commonly involved the sacrifice ofconjugal happiness, the welfare of children, domestic peace, reputation, and all the amenities of the gentle life. 

That clever women abound in the present day we have undeniableproof--many as clever, no doubt, as that famous philosopheress Madame duChatelet, who managed at one and the same moment the thread of anintrigue, her cards at piquet, and a calculation in algebra, but who maystill lack the qualifications indispensably necessary to make cleverpoliticians. Perhaps, therefore, we might be allowed to suggest that itwould be well for ladies who are ambitious of figuring in either or bothspheres that politics and diplomacy are special and laborious pursuits, involving a great deal of knowledge as difficult, and in the firstinstance as repulsive, to acquire as Greek or chemistry. Yet, fullyadmitting their capacity to qualify themselves intellectually, andsupposing them to attain the summit of their ambition of figuringsuccessfully in public life, a grave question still arises--would theythereby increase or diminish their present great social influence? Theyhave now more influence of a certain kind than men have; but if theyobtain the influence of men, they cannot expect to retain the influenceof women. Nature, it may be thought, has established a fair distributionof power between the two sexes. Women are potent in one sphere, and menin another; and, if they are conscious of the domestic sway they alreadyexercise, they will not imperil it by challenging dominion in a field inwhich they would be less secure. 

Root and bond of the family, woman is no less a stranger by her naturalaptitudes than by her domestic ministrations to the general interests ofsociety; the conduct of the latter demands, in fact, a disengagement ofheart and mind to which she can only attain by transforming herself, tothe detriment of her duties and of her true influence. Ever tosubordinate persons to things, never to overstep in her efforts thestrict measure of the possible--those two conditions of the politicallife are repugnant to her ardent and devoted nature. Even amongst womenin whom those gifts are met with in the highest degree, clearness ofperception has been almost always obscured by the ardour of pursuit orthat of patronage--by the irresistible desire of pushing to theextremity of success her own ideas, and especially those of her friends. 

Again, let us imagine political life to resemble a great game at cards, the rules of which have been settled beforehand, and the winningsdevoted to the use of the greatest number; well, a woman ought never totake a hand in it. Her place should be at the player's elbow, to warnand advise him, to point out an unperceived chance, to share in hissuccess, more than all to console him, should luck run against him. Thus, whilst all her better qualities would be brought into play, allher weaker would not in any wise be at stake. 

We would put it, therefore, to the womanly conscience--Is it not ahundred times more honourable to exercise, so to speak, rights that arelegitimately recognised, though wisely limited, than to suffer inconsideration, and often in reputation, from an usurpation alwayscertain of being disputed?

It has been the author's endeavour to show the truth of theseconclusions by tracing the political career of certain well-born andsingularly-gifted women--women whose lofty courage, strength of mind, keen introspection, political zeal, and genius for intrigue enabled themto baffle and make head against some of the greatest political malecelebrities of modern history, without, however, winning us over totheir opinions or their cause; women who, in some instances, afterpassing the best period of their lives in political strife, infostering civil war, in hatching perilous plots, and who, having castfortune and all the "gentle life" to the winds, preferred exile tosubmission, or to wage a struggle as fruitless as it was unceasing;until having arrived at the tardy conviction of its futility, and thatthey had devoted their existence to the pursuit of the illusory and thechimerical, they found at length repose and tranquillity only insolitude and repentance. 

In the stirring careers of certain among these remarkable personages, itwill be seen that the mainspring of their political zeal was either thefierce excitement of an overmastering passion, an irresistibleproclivity to gallantry, or an absorbing ambition, rather than anypatriotic motive. This may go far to explain the singular sagacity, finesse, and energy displayed in their devotion to what otherwiseappears alike mischievous and chimerical by those three high-born andsplendidly-gifted women who figured so conspicuously in the civil war ofthe Fronde; and, though so much self-abnegation, courage, constancy, andheroism, well or ill displayed, may obtain some share of pardon forerrors it would be wrong to palliate or condone, their example, it is tobe hoped, will prove deterrent rather than contagious. LaRochefoucauld--a moralist, though by no means a moral man--who well knewthe sex, had seen at work these political women of the time of theFronde. That opportunity does not appear to have inspired him with anunbounded admiration for them from that point of view. 

Of the peril and mischief that fair trio inflicted upon Anne ofAustria's great Prime Minister and the State he governed we have aninteresting personal record. When, in 1660, Mazarin's policy, triumphanton every side, had added the treaty of the Pyrenees to that ofWestphalia, the honour of the conclusion of the protracted conferenceheld at the _Isle of Pheasants_ was reserved for the chief Ministers ofthe two Crowns--the Cardinal and Don Louis de Haro. The lattercongratulated his brother premier on the well-earned repose he was aboutto enjoy, after such a long and arduous struggle. The Cardinal repliedthat he could not promise himself any repose in France, for there, hesaid, the _female_ politicians were more to be dreaded than the _male_;and he complained bitterly of the torments he had undergone at the handsof certain political women of the Fronde--notably the Duchess deLongueville, the Duchess de Chevreuse, and the Princess Palatine, eachof whom, he asserted, was capable of upsetting three kingdoms. 

"You are very lucky here in Spain, " he added. "You have, as everywhereelse, two kinds of women--coquettes in abundance, and a very fewsimple-minded domestic women. The former care only to please theirlovers, the latter their husbands. Neither the one nor the other, however, have any ambition beyond indulging themselves in vanities andluxuries. They only employ their pens in scribbling billet-doux orlove-confessions, neither one nor other bother their brains as to howthe grain grows, whilst talking about business makes their heads ache. Our women, on the contrary, whether prudes or flirts, old or young, stupid or clever, will intermeddle with everything. No honest woman, " touse the Cardinal's own words, "would permit her spouse to go to sleep, no coquette allow her lover any favour, ere she had heard all thepolitical news of the day. They will see all that goes on, will knoweverything, and--what is worse--have a finger in everything, and seteverything in confusion. We have a trio, among others"--and he againnamed the three fair factionists above mentioned--"who threw us alldaily into more confusion than was ever known in Babel. "

"Thank heaven!" replied Don Louis, somewhat ungallantly, "our women_are_ of the disposition seemingly so well known to you. Provided thatthey can finger the cash, whether of their husbands or their lovers, they are satisfied; and I am very glad to say that they do not meddlewith politics, for if they did they would assuredly embroil everythingin Spain as they do in France. "

It was during the minority of Louis XIV. That Mazarin had but too goodcause to complain of the three clever and fascinating women he thusnamed to Don Louis de Haro, who through their political factions, intrigues, and gallantries gave Anne of Austria's Minister no rest, andfor a long period not only thwarted and opposed him, but at intervalsplaced the State, and even his life, in imminent jeopardy. 

Fortunately, in our political history the instances are rare of womenwho have quitted the sphere of domesticity and private life to take anactive part in the affairs of State. We say "fortunately;" for in ouropinion such abstention has tended to the happiness of both sexes inEngland. 

In French memoirs, politics and scandal, the jokes of the _salons_ andthe councils of the Cabinet are inextricably mixed up together, andreveal a political system in which the authority exercised under freeinstitutions by men had been transferred to the art, the tact, and theaccomplishments of the female sex. We therein see how much women havedone by those subtle agencies. If France was a despotism tempered byepigrams, it was the life of the _salons_ which brought those epigramsto perfection; and the _salons_ thus constituted a sort of socialparliament, which, though unable to stop the supplies or withhold theMutiny Act, still possessed a formidable weapon of offence in the powerof making the Government ridiculous. Such was the difference existingbetween two quite distinct modes of government; between Parliamentarygovernment and closet government; between the mace of the House ofCommons and the fan of the Duchess de Longueville. England, as we needhardly say, has never had a government of this description. The nearestapproach to it which she has ever seen was under the sway of Charles theSecond, and, accordingly, the nearest approach to French memoirs whichour literature possesses is in the volumes of Pepys and Hamilton. To thealmost universal exemption of Englishwomen from taking an overt part inpolitical affairs a striking exception must be made in Sarah, Duchess ofMarlborough. She is the strongest example, perhaps, in the history ofthe world--certainly in the history of this empire--of the abuse offemale favouritism, and the most flagrant instance of householdfamiliarity on the destinies of mankind. Sarah Jennings, the politicalheroine of her age, and Viceroy, as she was called, in England, had, however, for contemporaries two other remarkable women, who touched thesprings of political machinery quite as powerfully as--if not morepowerfully than, save herself, any to be found within the limits ofEurope--Madame de Maintenon and the Princess des Ursins. In therespective careers of that other formidable trio of female politiciansmay be traced the important, the overwhelming, influence, which femaleMinisters, under the title of Court ladies, had obtained over thedestinies of England, France, and Spain. At that momentous period--thecommencement of the eighteenth century--the memoirs of a _bed-chamberlady_ constitute the history of Europe. The bed-chamber woman soonbecame the pivot of the political world. The influence of Mrs. Mashamfirst endangered and finally overthrew the power of the great Duke ofMarlborough. Some of the characteristics of the reign of Charles theSecond reappeared partially and in a very unattractive form under thetwo first Georges, and have served to impart a tinge of French colour tothe memoirs which describe their Courts. But, fortunately for England, neither Walpole nor his royal master were men of refined taste. It wouldhave been hard for a monarch like Charles the Second, or a minister likeLord Bolingbroke, to resist the charms of those beautiful and sprightlygirls who sparkle like diamonds in all the memoirs of that time. Theirpolitical influence was but small. George the First and his successorpursued their unwieldy loves and enjoyed their boorish romps in a stylenot seductive to English gentlemen. Politics were surrendered toWalpole; and the consequence was that, although there was plenty ofimmorality under those gracious Sovereigns, yet the feminine element ofCourt life had no longer that connection with _public policy_ which oncefor a brief space it had possessed; and the resemblance to Frenchmanners in this respect grew less and less, till it disappearedaltogether with the accession of George the Third. 

During the reign of that domesticated paterfamilias a slight exception, it is true, occurred in the instance of Georgina Spencer, Duchess ofDevonshire. Young, beautiful, amiable, and witty, and not altogetherfree from coquetry, she reckoned amongst her admirers some of the mostdistinguished men of that day. She fascinated them all withoutencouraging the pretensions of any; and notwithstanding the jealousywhich so great a superiority necessarily excited among her own sex, anddespite the rancour to which the inutility of their efforts to pleaseher gave birth in the bosoms of certain of the men, she preserved areputation for discretion beyond all suspicion. One circumstance of herlife might indeed have cast a slur upon her fair fame if herirreproachable conduct, added to her natural graces, had not condoned aspecies of notoriety which opinion in England very generally reproves. The Duchess of Devonshire had friendly relations with the celebratedCharles James Fox, and that friendship had taken the tinge of partyspirit. Fox presented himself as a candidate to represent Westminster inParliament. He had two very formidable opponents, and it was thoughtthat he would have succumbed in the struggle had not several amiable andenergetic women made extraordinary efforts to procure him votes. At thehead of these fair solicitors was the Duchess of Devonshire. A butcherwhose vote she requested promised it to her on the condition that hemight give her a kiss. To this she cheerfully consented, and that kissadded one more vote to her friend's poll. Such familiarity was far lessshocking to our English manners than the too active and public parttaken by a lady of distinction in politics. Very few of her countrywomenbefore her time had given occasion for a like scandal. [1]

 [1] An anecdote of her has been preserved which proves how very general was the impression the grace and beauty of the Duchess of Devonshire made upon men in every station of society. On one occasion of her being present on the racecourse at Newmarket, a burly farmer who stood near her carriage, after having for some time gazed at her in a species of ecstasy, exclaimed aloud, "Ah! why am I not God Almighty?--she should then be Queen of Heaven!" The Duchess preserved her personal charms far beyond the period of life when they commonly disappear among women, though she lost one of her eyes a few years before her death in 1806. 

The existence of those literary assemblies in France during theeighteenth century, the most important of which were those presidedover by Madame du Deffand, Mdlle. De Lespinasse, and Madame Geoffrin, were a characteristic feature of the time. It is a notable fact that theabstention from politics in those assemblies indirectly tended toincrease the power and importance of the women who frequented them. Alluding to their influence, Montesquieu caustically remarked that anation where women give the prevailing tone must necessarily betalkative. Then, however, it was the men who talked and the women wholistened. The men talked because they could do little else; women gavethe prevailing tone because men of all classes were partly compelled, and partly willing, to gather around them. The nobles being excludedfrom politics--in which none but the Ministers and their creatures couldinterfere--exercising no control either as individuals or as a body, naturally gave themselves up to the pleasures of society. Theirpolitical insignificance thus increased the power and importance ofwomen. 

To a far greater degree was their power and importance increased, on thecontrary, during the first decade of the French Revolution, when, fromthe exceptional position they held, the _salons_ of Madame Roland, Madame Necker, Madame de Suard, and others were essentiallypolitical--that of Madame Roland being almost an echo of the LegislativeAssembly. But women who love freedom abstractedly for its own sake, andare ready to suffer and die for a political principle, like MadameRoland, are very rarely met with. 

Towards the close of the century the female leaders of the hithertoliterary and social _salons_ were so irresistibly swept into thewhirlpool of public questions and events that they for the most partinvoluntarily became mere political partisans. Among others, but with aconsiderable modification on the score of the literary element, may beinstanced Madame de Staël, who by descent, education, and natural biaswas inevitably destined to aim at political power. The extent andprominence of that exercised by her must have been considerable, thoughcertainly overrated by Napoleon, in whom, however, it excited suchunreasonable apprehension as led him to inflict ten years' banishmentfrom France upon the talented daughter of Necker. 

It must not be inferred that we desire to reduce women to the conditionof a humiliating inaction. Far from it. In the position we would placethem they could never feel, think, or act with greater interest orvivacity. Whilst it is desirable that every kind of artifice or intrigueshould be interdicted from the interior of their domesticity, it isquite permissible for them to watch attentively important matters thatmay be occurring in public life. To that function they may bring theircare and their solicitude, in order to follow and second continually thecompanion of their existence. "Les hommes même, " says Fénelon, "qui onttoute l'autorité en public, ne peuvent par leurs délibérations établiraucun bien effectif, si les femmes ne leur aident à l'exécuter. " Suchwas the legitimate influence exercised by the Princess Esterhazy, LadiesHolland, Palmerston, and Beaconsfield, in our day. It is no secret thatthe late lamented Viscountess Beaconsfield took the deepest interest inevery great movement in which her illustrious husband was engaged. Such, too, was the case with Lady Palmerston, in reference to the greatstatesman whose name she bore. The influence of women in the politics ofrecent days is something peculiar and new. Our time has seen many womenwhose share in the politics of men was frank, unconcealed, andlegitimate, while yet it never pretended or sought to be anything morethan an influence--never attempted to be a ruling spirit. By followingthese examples, the women of England may make their power felt, withoutdemanding to be put upon the same footing as their husbands. 

Woman's reign, it has been truly said, "is almost absolute within thefour walls of a drawing-room. " It is undisputed in family direction andin the management of children; but the cases are rare indeed where itextends to _public questions_ of any kind. The Frenchwoman of thepresent day is essentially a woman. Her objects are almost alwaysfeminine; she does not seek to go beyond her sphere; she understands hermission as one of duty in her house and of attraction towards the world;she is generally very ignorant of politics and all dry subjects, andshrinks from any active part in their discussion. Of course there areexceptions by the thousand; but the rule is that she voluntarilyabstains from interference in outside topics, whatever be their gravityor their importance. She may have a vague opinion on such matters, picked up from hearing men talk around her, but the bent of her natureleads her in other ways--her tendency is towards things which satisfyher as a woman. It naturally follows that men do not give her what shedoes not seem to want. They consult her on matters of mutual interest, they ask for and often follow her advice in business; but in nine casesout of ten no husband would allow his wife to tell him how to vote at anelection, or what form of government to support. This distinction isinfinitely more remarkable in France than any analogous condition wouldbe in England, because of the existence there of several rivals to thethrone, and the consequent splitting up of the entire nation intoadherents of each pretender. Yet even this exceptional position does notinduce Frenchwomen to become politicians. Some few of them, of course, are so, and fling themselves with ardour into the cause they haveadopted; but, fortunately for the tranquillity of their homes, thegreater part of them have wisdom enough to comprehend that their realfunctions on the earth are of another kind. 

The majority of the champions of the enfranchisement of the sex haveloudly protested against the hackneyed truisms, formerly so rife, whichimpute to women every imaginable form of silliness and frivolity; thatthey, like Alphonse Karr's typical woman, have nothing to do but"_s'habiller, babiller et se déshabiller_. " But it will be well toremember the existence of another class of maxims of even greaterweight, which dwell on the subtle influence of women, and of itsillimitable consequences. "If the nose of Cleopatra, " remarks the mostfamous of these aphorists--Pascal--"had been a hair's-breadth longer, the fortunes of the world would have been altered. " Has the influence ofthe sex decreased since the days of the dusky beauty whose irresistiblefascinations

 "----lost a world, and bade a hero fly?"

Rather, is it not infinitely more subtle, wider, and more prevailingthan ever? No one who recognises the skill with which that immenseinfluence may be exercised can listen without astonishment to the flimsyarguments which are usually advanced in support of the question of thepolitical enfranchisement of the sex. That the results of giving thisparticular form of ability--a power which is irresistible to the highestintellectual refinement--the political arena for its field have not onlyproved widely injurious to women who have so exercised it, but to thosemost closely connected with them, it has been the author's object toshow. 

"And what hope of permanent success, " it has been cogently asked, "couldwomen have if they were to enter into competition with men in callingsconsidered peculiarly masculine, many of which are already overstocked?"We are also brought here again face to face with that evil--thelessening or the complete loss of womanly grace and purity. Take awaythat reverential regard which men now feel for them, leave them to wintheir way by sheer strength of body or mind, and the result is notdifficult to conjecture. Let the condition of women in savage life tell. Towards something like this, although in civilised society not socoarsely and roughly exposed to view, matters would tend if theseagitators for women's rights were successful. Husbands, brothers, sons, have too keen a sense of what they owe of good to their female relativesto risk its loss; or to exchange the gentleness, purity, and refinementof their homes for boldness, flippancy, hardness and knowledge of evil. 

Nature, herself, then, has disqualified women from fighting and fromentering into the fierce contentions of the prickly and crooked ways ofpolitics. There is a silent and beautiful education which Heavenintended that all alike should learn from mothers, sisters, and wives. Each home was meant to have in their gentler presence a softening andrefining element, so that strength should train itself to be submissive, rudeness should become abashed, and coarse passions held in check by thenatural influence of women. High or low, educated or uneducated, thereis the proper work of the weaker sex. And, finally, we venture toaddress her in the words of Lord Lyttelton:--

 "Seek to be good, but aim not to be great; A woman's noblest station is retreat; Her fairest virtues fly from public sight; Domestic worth--that shuns too strong a light. "

BOOK I. 

PART I. 

POLITICAL WOMEN. 

CHAPTER I. 

 ANNE DE BOURBON, SISTER OF THE GREAT CONDÉ, AFTERWARDS DUCHESS DE LONGUEVILLE. 

THE brilliant heroine of the Fronde, of whose grace, beauty, andinfluence Anne of Austria was so jealous--not to speak of the mortalrivalry of the gay Duchesses de Montbazon and de Châtillon--although theyoungest of that famous trio whom Mazarin found so formidable in thearena of politics, obviously claims alike from her exalted rank and thememorable part she played in the tragi-comedy of the Fronde, priority ofnotice among the bevy of the Cardinal's fair political opponents. 

Some time in the month of August, 1619, Anne Geneviève de Bourbon-Condéfirst saw the light in the donjon of Vincennes, where her parents hadbeen kept State prisoners for three years previously. She was the eldestof the three children of Henry (II. ) de Bourbon-Condé, first prince ofthe blood, and of that Charlotte Marguerite de Montmorency, "the beauty, perfect grace and majesty of her time. "[1] The lovely Montmorency oncoming to Court in her fifteenth year had sorely troubled the heart ofthe amorous soldier-king, Henry of Navarre, who had married her in 1609to his nephew of Condé with the covert hope of finding him anaccommodating husband; but the latter, alike defiant and uxorious, madethe jovial Bearnois plainly understand that he had wedded the bloomingCharlotte exclusively for himself. The _gaillard_ monarch, however, atlength grew so deeply enamoured that the prince, perceiving there wastoo much cause to fear the result of the constant assiduities of hisroyal uncle, fled precipitately with his young wife from France, only toreturn thither after tidings reached him of the great Henry'sassassination. To the fair Montmorency's very decided proclivity togallantry was to be attributed--if we may believe the scandal-lovingTallemant des Reaux--her long confinement, by the Regent Marie de'Medici's consent, within the gloomy fortress of Vincennes, rather thanany reason of State for her sharing her husband's imprisonment. In fact, it was believed that the jealous prince procured her incarcerationsimply to keep her out of harm's way. 

 [1] Lenet. 

Deriving from her mother the threefold gifts of grace, beauty, andmajesty, the fair Bourbon inherited also, it must be owned, a share ofthat princess's inclination to _l'honnête galanterie_. The restrictionto a _share_ should be noted; for at no period of her heydey, not evenduring the licence of the Fronde, could Anne Geneviève be accused ofhaving--as Madame de Motteville tells us the Princess de Condéhad, --adorers "in every rank and condition of life, from popes, kings, princes, cardinals, dukes, and marshals of France, down to simplegentlemen. "

The mind and heart, however, of Anne de Bourbon, although predestined, alas! eventually to culpable passion, seemed at first but littleinclined to the gay world--with all its blandishments and seductions, or even to its innocent pleasures. When quite a child she was in thehabit of accompanying her mother in her visits to the convent of theCarmelites at Paris. For though still possessing great personalattractions, Madame de Condé had become serious and of a somewhatdemonstrative piety. Those visits, which were frequent, strengthenedAnne's gentle and susceptible mind in its tendency to devotion. Theimpression, too, which somewhat later the tragic fate of her uncle, theunfortunate Duke de Montmorency, [2] left on her memory, inspired herwith the resolution to quit the outer world at the earliest possiblemoment, and, renouncing all its pomps and grandeurs, hide beneath theveil her budding attractions. Although her mother opposed an inflexibleresistance to her embracing that holy vocation, and strove to combat byforcible arguments the cold and disdainful demeanour exhibited by herdaughter when mixing in gay society, the fair girl persevered from theage of thirteen to seventeen in her longing to embrace the life of thecloister. Futile for a time were the parental arguments, unfruitfulevery effort! Anne Geneviève would not consort with worldlings, persisted in her distaste for mundane pleasures, and continued tocherish persistently her desire for conventual seclusion. At length theprincess, in 1636, having resolved upon the adoption of more energeticmeasures, suddenly ordered her daughter to make preparations forappearing at a Court ball, and that, too, in three days. With whatdespair did the young princess hear the cruel sentence! What affliction, too, befell the Carmelite nuns when they heard of the fatal mandate. What a flood of sighs and tears and prayers! The good sisters gatheredthemselves together to take counsel one with another, and decided that, since Mdlle. De Bourbon could not avoid the wretched fate that awaitedher, before going through the trying ordeal she should indue her lovelyform with an undergarment of hair-cloth (commonly called a _cilice_), and, protected by such armour of proof, she might then fearlessly submitherself to all the temptations lurking beneath the ensnaring vanities ofher Court attire. The _cilice_, however, did not, it seems, proveinvulnerable as the ægis of Minerva, for the subtle shafts winged byhomage and admiration pierced through that slight breast-plate to aheart which in truth was by nature framed to inspire and welcome both. The Princess de Condé rejoiced greatly at her daughter's conversion tomore reasonable views of mundane existence. The commencement of hernoviciate was no longer thought of, and her visits to the Carmelitesbecame sufficiently rare. But it was only a deferment of that calmvocation, it being Anne de Bourbon's destiny to embrace it at the closeof her feverish political career. 

 [2] Brought to the scaffold by Richelieu in 1632. 

This era of her entrance into the great world was probably the happiest, the most joyous of the fair Bourbon's life. Lofty distinction of birth, great personal beauty, and rare mental fascination, contributed to placeher in the very foremost rank of the Court circle--in the "height ofcompany"--conspicuous amongst lovely dames and distinguished men of thetime. Her peerless loveliness at once meeting with universalrecognition, "la belle Condé" was toasted with acclamation by courtiers, young and old--at Chantilly, at Liancourt, at the Louvre, and at theHôtel de Rambouillet. Contemporaries of either sex have renderedunanimous testimony to the varied and exceptional character of herattractions, and we will let a woman's pen add to Petitot's pencillingsome of those delicate traits which neither the burin nor even the vividtints of the enamel have the power to convey. 

"Her beauty, " says Mdme. De Motteville, "consisted more in thebrilliance of her complexion"--("it had the blush of the pearl, " writesanother contemporary)--"than in perfection of feature. Her eyes were notlarge, but bright, and finely cut, and of a blue so lovely it resembledthat of the turquoise. The poets could only apply the trite comparisonof lilies and roses to the carnation which mantled on her cheek, whilsther fair, silken, luxuriant tresses, and the peculiar limpidity of herglance, added to many other charms, made her more like an angel--so faras our imperfect nature allows of our imagining such a being--than amere woman. " Somewhat later, the smallpox, in robbing her of the bloomof her beauty, still left her all its brilliancy, to repeat the remarkof that eminent connoisseur of female loveliness, Cardinal de Retz. 

To sum up the general opinion of her contemporaries: Mdlle. De Bourbonrather charmed by the very peculiar style of her countenance than by itslinear regularity. One of her greatest fascinations lay in anindescribable languor, both of mind and manner--"a languor interruptedat intervals, " says De Retz, "by a sort of luminous awakenings, assurprising as they were delightful. This physical and intellectualindolence presented later in life a piquant contrast to herthen"--according to Mdme. De Motteville--"somewhat too passionatetemperament. " She was of good height, and altogether of an admirableform. It is evident also, from the authentic portraits of her stillextant, that she had that kind of attraction so much prized during theseventeenth century, and which, with beautiful hands, had made thereputation of Anne of Austria. In speech, we are told, she was verygentle. Her gestures, with the expression of her countenance, and thesound of her voice, produced the most perfect music. But her peculiarcharm consisted in a graceful ease--a languor, as all her contemporariesexpressed it--which would quickly change to the highest degree ofanimation when stirred by emotion, but which usually gave her an air ofindolence and aristocratic _nonchalance_, sometimes mistaken for_ennui_, sometimes for disdain. 

Crediting the unvarying testimony of these and other of hercontemporaries, the daughter of Bourbon-Condé must have been at least asbeautiful as her mother--endowed, indeed, with almost every attributeand feature of female loveliness. 

"Beauty, " remarks a philosophic panegyrist of physical perfection, "extends its prestige to posterity itself, and attaches a charm forcenturies to the name alone of the privileged creatures upon whom it haspleased heaven to bestow it. " Beauty has also its epochs. It does notbelong to all men and to all ages to enjoy it in its exquisiteperfection. As there are fashions which spoil it, so there are periodswhich affect its sentiment. For instance, it belonged to the eighteenthcentury to invent _pretty_ women--charming dolls--all powder, patches, and perfume, affecting the attractions which they did not possess undertheir vast hoops and great furbelows. Let us venture to say that thefoundation of true beauty, as of true virtue, as of true genius, isstrength. Shed over this strength the vivifying rays of elegance, grace, delicacy, and you have beauty. Its perfect type is the Venus ofMilo, [3] or again, that pure and mysterious apparition, goddess ormortal, which is called Psyche, or the Venus of Naples. [4] Beauty iscertainly to be seen in the Venus de' Medici, but in that type we feelthat it is declining, or about to decline. Look at, not the women ofTitian, but the virgins of Raphael and Leonardo: the face is of infinitedelicacy, but the body evinces strength. These forms ought to disgustone for ever with the shadows and monkeys _à la Pompadour_. Let us adoregrace, but not separate it in everything too much from strength, forwithout strength grace soon shares the fate of the flower that isseparated from the stem which vitalizes and sustains it. 

 [3] Quatremère de Quincy, Dissertation upon the Antique Statue of Venus Discovered in the Island of Milo. 1836. 

 [4] Millingen: Ancient Inedited Monuments. Fol. 1826. 

What a train of accomplished women this seventeenth century presents tous! They were not all politicians. Women who were loaded withadmiration, drawing after them all hearts, and spreading from rank torank that worship of beauty which throughout Europe received the name ofFrench gallantry. In France they accompany this great century in its toorapid course; they mark its principal epochs, beginning with Charlottede Montmorency and ending with Mdme. De Montespan. The Duchess deLongueville has perhaps the most prominent place in that dazzlinggallery of lovely women, having all the characteristics of true beauty, and joining to it a charm exclusively her own. 

In early girlhood she had been taken, along with her elder brother, theDuke d'Enghien, to the Hotel de Rambouillet; and the _salons_ of the RueSt. Thomas du Louvre were probably the most fitting school for such amind as hers, in which grandeur and finesse were almost equallyblended--a grandeur allied to the romantic, and associated with afinesse frequently merging into subtilty, as indeed may be discerned inCorneille himself, the most perfect mental representative of thatperiod. 

To follow step by step the course of Anne de Bourbon's life at thisperiod of it through all its earliest rivalries, would involve the taskof recording the manifold caprices of a tender, yet ambitious nature, inwhich the mind and heart were unceasingly dupes of each other. It wouldbe like an attempt to follow the devious path of the light foam andlaughing sparkle of the billow--

 "In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua. "

Our purpose lies mainly with her political life, but ere entering uponit we will give a short but comprehensive view of her character in thewords of one who, more than anybody else, had the means of judging hercorrectly--La Rochefoucauld. "This Princess, " writes the Duke, "possessed all the charms of mind, united to personal beauty, to so higha degree, that it seemed as though nature had taken pleasure in formingin her person a perfectly finished work. But those fine qualities wererendered less brilliant through a blemish rarely seen in one so highlyendowed, which was that, far from giving the law to those who had aparticular admiration for her, she transfused herself so thoroughly intotheir sentiments that she no longer recognised her own. "

Now La Rochefoucauld should have been the last person to complain ofthat defect, since he was the first to foster it in the Duchess. In herbosom love awoke ambition, but the awakening was so sudden, in fact, that any difference in the two passions was never perceptible. 

Singular contradiction! The more we contemplate the political bias ofMadame de Longueville the more it becomes mingled with her amorouscaprice; but when we analyse her love more narrowly (and later on inlife she herself made the avowal), it appears nothing else than ambitiontravestied--a desire to shine only the more magnificently brilliant. 

Her character, then, was entirely wanting in consistency, in self-will;and her mind, be it observed, however brilliant and acute, had nothingthat was calculated to counterbalance that defect of character. One maypossess the faculty of right perception without strength of mind to dothat which is right. One may be rational in mind and the contrary inconduct--character being at fault between the two. But here the case wasdifferent. Madame de Longueville's mind was not, above all else, rational; it was acute, prompt, subtle, witty by turns, and readilyresponsive to the varying humour of the moment. It shone voluntarily incontradiction and subterfuge, ere exhausting itself finally in scruples. There was much of the Hôtel de Rambouillet in such a mind as hers. 

"The mind in the majority of women serves rather to confirm their follythan their reason. " So says the author of the "Maxims;" and Madame deLongueville, with all her metamorphoses, was undoubtedly present beforehim when he penned the sentence. For she, the most feminine of her sex, would offer to him the completest epitome of all the rest. In short, evidently as he has made his observations upon her, she also seems tohave drawn her conclusions from him. So the agreement is perfect. 

CHAPTER II. 

 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 

A YOUNG Princess of the Blood so lovely, fascinating, and witty as Annede Bourbon, was surely destined, it might be thought, to contract anearly and altogether suitable matrimonial alliance. It was thereforesomewhat surprising to find how much difficulty there was in mating her. Foremost among those who sought her hand was that hair-brained, handsome, coarse-mannered Duke de Beaufort, younger son of Cæsar deVendôme, himself the bastard of the jovial Bearnois by the _FairGabrielle_. [1] Beaufort inherited his unfortunate grand-dame'sbeauty--had a Phoebus-Apollo style of head, set off with a profusionof long, curly, golden locks; was a young, brave, and flourishinggallant, and somewhat later (during the Fronde), from his blunt speechand familiar manners with the Parisian mob, became the idol of themarket-women, and was therefore dubbed _Roi des Halles_. But thisscapegrace suitor withdrew his pretensions in order to gratify, it issaid, the handsome though decried Duchess de Montbazon, who hadenthralled him in her flowery chains as a led-captain. On entering hernineteenth year Mdlle. De Bourbon was promised in marriage to the Princede Joinville, son of Charles of Lorraine (Duke de Guise), but that youngnobleman having died prematurely in Italy, no other serious matrimonialproject seems to have been entertained until the Princess had reachedher twenty-third year. The fortunate suitor was one of Beaufort'srivals--or, rather, colleagues--for that would be the more correct termwhen designating their mutual relations to the unscrupulous Duchess deMontbazon. The widower, Henry of Orleans (Duke de Longueville), bybirth, dignity, and wealth was looked upon as the first match in France. Unfortunately, in his case, those dazzling attributes were materiallyabated through disparity of age, for he had reached the ripe maturity offorty-seven, whilst the bride of his choice had not yet seen half thatcycle of summers. To be twenty-four years her senior was, for thehusband of a youthful princess so excelling in wit and beauty, certainlya formidable inequality, and so Mdlle. De Bourbon seems to have thought. At the command, however, of her father, who intimated that hisdetermination was inflexible in thus disposing of his daughter's hand, Anne Geneviève meekly complied, and was espoused in June, 1642, to Henride Bourbon, Duke de Longueville. [2]

 [1] Created Duchess de Beaufort by Henry IV. 

 [2] The Duke was descended from the "brave Dunois, " bastard of Orleans. 

The young Duchess found herself speedily surrounded by a swarm ofcourtiers, attracted by her sprightly and refined intelligence, hermajestic beauty, her nonchalant and languishing grace. What moreadorable mistress could an audacious aspirant dream of? Bold adventurersfor such a lady's love there was no lack of; and would not many beencouraged with the thought that such a prize could only be defended bya husband already verging towards the decline of life, and whose heart, moreover, was believed to be in the keeping of another? The sighs of thesuitors, however, all adventurous and calculating as they might be, werewasted, their hopes altogether fallacious. For six long years there wasnothing more accorded to that crowd of often-renewed adorers save thesmiles of an innocent coquetry. He who, during that period of honestgallantry, coming near to La Rochefoucauld, seems to have made theliveliest impression, was Coligny; and it was only slanderers whowhispered that the young Count was happier than became the adorer of aheroine of the De Rambouillet school. 

Madame de Longueville, nevertheless, possessed the characteristics ofher sex; she had alike its lovable qualities and its well-knownimperfections. In a sphere where gallantry was the order of the day, that young and fascinating creature, married to a man already in thedecline of life, and, moreover, with his affections engaged elsewhere, merely followed the universal example. Tender by nature, the senses, sheherself says in her confessions--the humblest ever made--played no minorpart in the affairs of the heart. But, surrounded unceasingly by homage, she found pleasure in receiving it. Very lovable, she centred herhappiness in being loved. Sister of the Great Condé, she was notinsensible to the idea of playing a part which should occupy publicattention; but, far from pretending to domination, there was so much ofthe woman in her that she allowed herself to be led by him whom sheloved. Whilst, around her, interest and ambition assumed so frequentlythe hues of love, she listened to the dictates of her heart alone, anddevoted herself to the interest and ambition of another. Allcontemporary writers are unanimous on that point. Her enemies sharplyreproach her alike for not having a fitting object in her politicalintrigues, and for being unmindful of her own interests. But they appearnot to be aware that, in thinking to overwhelm her memory by suchaccusation, they rather elevate it, and they are assiduous to cover herfaults and misconduct--faults which, after all, are centred in onealone. In short, some writers cast the greater part of the blame theyoung Duchess's conduct merits upon her husband, who, according to them, knew not how to make amends for his own disadvantage, on the score ofdisparity of age, by an anxious and indulgent tenderness. 

Before their marriage was solemnised it was stipulated that the Duke deLongueville should break off his _liaison_ with the Duchess deMontbazon--then notorious as one of the most unrestrained among thewomen of fashion at the Court of the Regent. This, however, the Dukeunhappily failed to do. 

In declaring its adhesion to Mazarin at the commencement of the Regency, the House of Condé had drawn upon itself the hatred of the party of the_Importants_, though that enmity scarcely rebounded upon Madame deLongueville. Her amiableness in everything where her heart was notseriously concerned, her perfect indifference to politics at this periodof her life, together with the graces of her mind and person, renderedher universally popular, and shielded her against the injustice ofpartisan malice. But outside the pale of politics she had an enemy, anda formidable one, in the Duchess de Montbazon. That bold and dangerouswoman having by her fascinations enslaved Beaufort, the quondam admirerof Madame de Longueville, the young Duke through her intrigues became afavourite chief of the _Importants_. Amongst the earliest to swell theranks of that faction were two other personages who had played a veryconspicuous part during the reign of Louis XIII. The first of these, Madame de Montbazon's step-daughter, was the witty, beautiful, anderrant Duchess de Chevreuse, whom Louis had judged so dangerous that hehad expressly forbidden by his will, when on the point of death, thatshe should ever be recalled from exile to Court. By the same prohibitionwas affected the former Keeper of the Seals, the Marquis de Châteauneuf, who had displayed considerable talent under Richelieu, but hadultimately made himself obnoxious to that great Minister, after havinggiven many a sanguinary proof of his devotion to him. A glance at theantecedents of that remarkable woman, Madame de Chevreuse, the earlyfavourite of Anne of Austria, will now be necessary in order tounderstand clearly her relative position to the Queen and Mazarin at thecommencement of the Regency, as well as to those incipient _Frondeurs_, the _Importants_, at the moment of her dragging the Prince de Marsillac(afterwards Duke de Rochefoucauld) into that party. 

CHAPTER III. 

 THE DUCHESS DE CHEVREUSE. 

FROM the long-sustained, vigorous, and very eminent part played by Mariede Rohan in opposing the repressive system of the two great CardinalMinisters, her name belongs equally to the political history as to thatof the society and manners of the first half of the sixteenth century. 

She came of that old and illustrious race the issue of the first princesof Brittany, and was the daughter of Hercule de Rohan, Duke deMontbazon, a zealous servant of Henry IV. , by his first wife Madeleinede Lenoncourt, sister of Urbain de Laval, Marshal de Bois-Dauphin. Bornin December, 1600, she lost her mother at a very early age, and in 1617was married to that audacious favourite of Louis XIII. , De Luynes, whofrom the humble office of "bird-catcher" to the young King, rose to theproud dignity of Constable of France, and who, upon the faith of aking's capricious friendship, dared to undertake the reversal of theQueen-mother, Marie de' Medici's authority; hurl to destruction hergreat favourite, the Marshal d'Ancre; combat simultaneously princes andProtestants, and commence against Richelieu the system of Richelieu. Early becoming a widow, Marie next, in 1622, entered the house ofLorraine by espousing Claude, Duke de Chevreuse, one of the sons ofHenry de Guise, great Chamberlain of France, whose highest merit was thename he bore, accompanied by good looks and that bravery which wasnever wanting to a prince of Lorraine; otherwise disorderly in theconduct of his affairs, of not very edifying manner of life, which maygo far to explain and extenuate the errors of his young wife. The newDuchess de Chevreuse had been appointed during the sway of her firsthusband, _surintendante_ (controller) of the Queen's household, and soonbecame as great a favourite of Anne of Austria as the Constable deLuynes was of Louis _the Just_. The French Court was then verybrilliant, and gallantry the order of the day. Marie de Rohan wasnaturally vivacious and dashing, and, yielding herself up to theseductions of youth and pleasure, she had lovers, and her adorers drewher into politics. Her beauty and captivating manners were such as tofascinate and enthral the least impressible who crossed her path, andtheir dangerous power was extensively employed in influencing thepolitics of Europe, and consequently had a large share in framing herown destiny. A portrait in the possession of the late Duke de Luynes[1]represents her as having an admirable figure, a charming expression ofcountenance, large and well-opened blue eyes, chesnut-tinted fair hairin great abundance, a well-formed neck, with the loveliest bustpossible, and throughout her entire person a piquant blending ofdelicacy, grace, vivacity, and passion. The following summary of hercharacter by the clever, caustic, but little scrupulous De Retz, graphicas it is, and based on a certain amount of truth, must not beunhesitatingly accepted, it being over-coloured by wilfulexaggeration:--"I have never seen anyone else, " says he, "in whomvivacity so far usurped the place of judgment. It very often inspiredher with such brilliant sallies that they flashed like lightning, and sosensible withal, that they might not have been disowned by the greatestmen of any age. The manifestation of this faculty was not confined toparticular occasions. Had she lived in times when politics werenon-existent, she would not have rested content with the idea only thatthey ought to have been rife. If the Prior of the Carthusians hadpleased her, she would have become a sincere recluse. M. De Luynesinitiated her into politics, the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl ofHolland corresponded with her upon them, and Châteauneuf amused her withthem. She gave herself up to their pursuit because she abandonedherself, without reserve, to everything which pleased the individualwhom she loved, and simply because it was indispensable that she shouldlove somebody. It was not even difficult to give her a lover by settingan eligible suitor to pay her court with an ostensible political motive;but as soon as she accepted him, she loved him solely and faithfully, and she owned to Mdme. De Rhodes and myself that, through caprice, shesaid, she had never really loved those whom she esteemed the most, withthe exception of the unfortunate George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. Devotion to the passion which in her might be called eternal, althoughshe might change the object of it, did not prevent even a fly fromcausing her mental abstraction; but she always recovered from it with arenewed exuberance which made such phases rather agreeable thanotherwise. No one ever took less heed about danger, and never woman hadmore contempt for scruples and duties: she never recognised other thanthat of pleasing her lover. "

 [1] This nobleman died at Rome in December, 1867, at the age of sixty-five, having gone thither to aid the Pope against the Garibaldians. 

This epigrammatic sketch is almost worthy of the exaggerated author ofthe _Historiettes_, [2] and the reader is advised to accept only its moresalient and truthful traits--the keen and accurate glance of Mdme. DeChevreuse in scanning the prevailing aspect of the political horizon, her dauntless courage, the fidelity and devotion of her love. Retz, moreover, mistakes entirely the order of her adventures; he forgets andthen invents. In striving after epigrammatic point, he sacrifices truthto smartness of style, and writes as though he looked upon events inwhich the passions of the Duchess made her take part as mere trifles, whereas among them there were some than which none were ever of graveror even more tragic moment. 

 [2] Tallement des Réaux. 

Mdme. De Chevreuse, in fact, possessed almost all the qualitiesbefitting a great politician. One alone was wanting, and precisely thatwithout which all the others tended to her ruin. She failed to selectfor pursuit a legitimate object, or rather she did not choose one forherself, but left it to another to choose for her. Mdme. De Chevreusewas womanly in the highest possible degree; that quality was alike herstrength and her weakness. Her secret mainspring was love, or rathergallantry, [3] and the interest of him whom she loved became herparamount object. It is this which explains the wonderful sagacity, finesse, and energy she displayed in the vain pursuit of a chimericalaim, which ever receded before her, and seemed to draw her on by thevery prestige of difficulty and danger. La Rochefoucauld accuses her ofhaving brought misfortune upon all those whom she loved;[4] it isequally the truth to add that all those whom she loved hurried her inthe sequel into insensate enterprises. It was not she evidently whomade of Buckingham a species of paladin without genius; a brilliantadventurer of Charles IV. Of Lorraine; of Chalais a hair-brainedblunderer, rash enough to commit himself in a conspiracy againstRichelieu, on the faith of the faithless Duke d'Orleans; of Châteauneuf, an ambitious statesman, impatient of holding second rank in theGovernment, without being capable of taking the first. Let no oneimagine that he is acquainted with Mdme. De Chevreuse from having merelystudied the foregoing portrait traced by De Retz, for that sketch is anexaggeration and over-charged like all those from the same pen, and wasdestined to amuse the malignant curiosity of Mdme. De Caumartin--forwithout being altogether false, it is of a severity pushed to the vergeof injustice. Was it becoming, one might ask, of the restless andlicentious Coadjutor to constitute himself the remorseless censor of awoman whose errors he shared? Did he not deceive himself as much and fora far longer period than she? Did he show more address in politicalstrategy or courage in the dangerous strife, more intrepidity andconstancy in defeat? But Mdme. De Chevreuse has not written memoirs inthat free-and-easy and piquant style the constant aim of which isself-elevation, obtained at the expense of everybody else. There are twojudges of her character the testimony of whose acts must be held to beabove suspicion--Richelieu and Mazarin. Richelieu did all in his powerto win her over, and not being able to succeed, he treated her as anenemy worthy of himself. 

 [3] Mdme. De Motteville. 

 [4] Mémoires, Petitot's Collection, 2nd series, vol. Li. P. 339. 

To revert briefly to her long-continued struggle with Richelieu, it mustnot be forgotten that for twenty years she had been the personal friendand favourite of Anne of Austria, and for ten years she had sufferedpersecution and privation on that account. Exiled, proscribed, andthreatened with imprisonment, she had narrowly escaped Richelieu's graspby disguising herself in male attire, and in that garb traversing Franceand Spain on horseback, had succeeded in eluding his pursuit, and aftermany adventures in safely reaching Madrid. Philip IV. Not only heapedevery kind of honour upon his sister's courageous favourite, but even, it is said, swelled the number of her conquests. Whilst in the Spanishcapital she had allied herself politically with the Minister Olivarez, and obtained great ascendancy over the Cabinet of Madrid. The warbetween France and Spain necessarily rendering her position in thelatter country delicate and embarrassing, she had, early in 1638, soughtrefuge in England. Charles I. And Henrietta Maria gave her the warmestpossible reception at St. James's; and the latter, on seeing again thedistinguished countrywoman who had some years back conducted her as abride from Paris to the English shores to the arms of Prince Charles, embraced her warmly, entered into all her troubles, and both the EnglishKing and Queen wrote letters pleading in her behalf, to Louis XIII. , Anne of Austria, and Richelieu with regard to the restoration of herproperty and permission to rejoin her children at Dampierre. She herselfresumed the links of a negotiation with the Cardinal which had neverbeen entirely broken off, and the success of which seemed quitepracticable, since it was almost equally desired by both. Thatnegotiation was being carried on for more than a year, and when linkafter link had been frequently snapped and re-soldered, only to be oncemore broken, Richelieu at length gave his solemn word that she mightreturn with perfect safety to Dampierre. 

On the eve of her departure from the English Court, a vessel being inreadiness to convey her to Dieppe, where a carriage awaited her landing, the Duchess received an anonymous letter warning her that certain ruinawaited her if she set foot on the soil of France, followed by another, still more explicit with regard to Richelieu's designs to effect herdestruction, from no less a person than Charles of Lorraine. This secondwarning from so reliable a source, followed shortly afterwards by otheradvice--held by her in the light of a command--enchained her to aforeign land. She for whom during ten long years the Duchess hadsuffered all things, braved all things, her august friend Anne ofAustria cautioned her not to trust to appearances. Thus vanished thelast hope of a sincere reconciliation between two persons who knew eachother too well to discard distrust and to confide in words, of whichneither were sparing, without requiring solemn guarantees that theycould not or would not give. 

Choosing stoically, therefore, to still undergo the pangs of absence, toconsume the noontide of the days of her attractive womanhood inprivation and turmoil rather than risk her liberty, Mdme. De Chevreuseon her part did not remain idle. From the moment she felt convinced thatRichelieu was deceiving her, attracting her back to France only to holdher in a state of dependence, and if need were, to incarcerateher--having broken with him, she considered herself as free from allscruple, and thought of nothing further than paying him back blow forblow. Her old duel with the Cardinal thus once more renewed, she formedin London, with the aid of the Duke de Vendôme, La Vieuville, and LaValette, a faction of active and adroit emigrants, who, leaning on theEarl of Holland, then one of the chiefs of the Royalist party and ageneral in the army of Charles of England; upon Lord Montagu, an ardentPapist and intimate adviser of Queen Henrietta Maria; upon Digby andother men of influence at Court, maintained likewise the closestintelligence with the Court of Rome through its envoy in England, Rosetti, and especially with the Cabinet of Madrid; encouraging andkindling the hopes of all the proscribed and discontented, strewingobstacles at all points in the path of Richelieu, and accumulatingformidable perils around his head. 

On the breaking out of the Civil War in England, Mdme. De Chevreuserepaired to Brussels, where in 1641 we find her acting as the connectinglink between England, Spain, and Lorraine. Without attributing to theDuchess any especial motive beyond seconding an enterprise directedagainst the common enemy, she did not the less play an important part inthe affair of the Count de Soissons--the most formidable conspiracy thathad hitherto been hatched against Richelieu. Anne of Austria wascertainly privy to the plot and lent it her aid. She might have beenignorant of the secret treaty with Spain; but for all the rest, and sofar as it menaced the Cardinal, she had a perfect understanding with theconspirators. That high-handed Minister, by overstraining the springs ofgovernment, by prolonging the war, by increasing the public expenditure, and by oppressing all classes whilst he crushed some in particular, hadexcited a hatred so bitter and widespread that at length he governed theState almost entirely through terror. Whilst the grandeur of his designscommanded respect and veneration from a select few, his genius toweredabove the bulk of his countrymen. But that harsh rule, continuingunrelaxed, and so many sacrifices being perpetually renewed, at lengthwearied out the greater number, the King himself not excepted. Louis'sreigning favourite, the Grand-Écuyer, Cinq Mars, undermined andblackened the Cardinal as much as possible in his royal master'sestimation. He knew of the conspiracy of the Count de Soissons, andwithout taking a share in it, he favoured it. He might therefore bereckoned upon to figure in the next. The Queen, still in disgrace inspite of the two heirs she had given to the crown, naturally breathedvows for the termination of a rule which so oppressed her. Gaston, theKing's brother, had pledged his word, however little the reliance thatmight be placed upon it; but the Duke de Bouillon, an experiencedsoldier and an eminent politician, had openly declared himself; and hisstronghold of Sedan, situated on the frontiers of France and Belgium, offered an asylum whence could be braved for a long while all the powerof the Cardinal. A widespread understanding had been establishedthroughout every part of the kingdom, amongst the clergy, and in theParliament. There were conspirators in the very Bastille itself, whereMarshal de Vitry and the Count de Cramail, prisoners as they were, hadprepared a _coup de main_ with an admirably-kept secrecy. The Abbé deRetz, then twenty-five, preluded his adventurous career by this attemptat civil war. The Duke de Guise, having effected his escape from Rheims, and taken refuge in the Low Countries, was about to share the dangers ofthe conspiracy at Sedan. But the greatest--the firmest--hope of theCount de Soissons rested upon Spain: that power alone could enable himto take the field from Sedan, to march upon Paris, and crush the powerof Richelieu. He therefore despatched Alexandre de Campion, one of hisbravest and most intelligent gentlemen, to Brussels to negotiate withthe Spanish Ministers and obtain from them troops and money. There headdressed himself to Mdme. De Chevreuse, and confided to her the missionwith which he was charged, which she hastened to second with all herinfluence. Having prevailed upon Olivarez to strenuously support thoserequirements which the Count de Soissons and the Duke de Bouillon soughtat his hands, she despatched letters by a secret agent in the service ofSpain to the Duke de Lorraine, entreating him not to fail her in thissupreme opportunity of repairing her past misfortunes and of dealing amortal blow to their remorseless enemy. The Duke Charles, thus solicitedat once by Mdme. De Chevreuse, by his kinsman the Duke de Guise, by theSpanish Minister, and, more than all, by his own restless andadventurous ambition, broke the solemn compact he had so recently madewith France, entered into an alliance with Spain and the Count deSoissons, and prepared with all diligence to march to the aid of Sedan. And whilst Mdme. De Chevreuse and the emigrants brought into play everyengine they could lay hands on, Lamboy and Metternich set out forFlanders at the head of six thousand Imperialists. France--all thenationalities of Europe, were on the tiptoe of expectation. Richelieuhad never been menaced with a greater danger, and the loss of the battleof Marfée would have proved a fatal event had not the Count de Soissonsmet his death simultaneously with his triumph. 

If Mdme. De Chevreuse were a stranger in 1642 to the fresh conspiracy ofGaston, Duke d'Orleans, Cinq Mars, and the Duke de Bouillon against herrelentless foe, it would have been the only one in which she had nottaken a leading part. It is indeed more than probable that she was inthe secret as well as Queen Anne, whose understanding with Gaston andCinq Mars cannot be contested. La Rochefoucauld repeatedly remarkstouching a matter in which he seems to have been implicated, "Thedazzling reputation of M. Le Grand (Cinq Mars) rekindled the hopes ofthe discontented; the Queen and the Duke d'Orleans united with him; theDuke de Bouillon and several persons of quality did the same. " DeBouillon also declares that the Queen was closely allied with Gaston andthe Grand-Écuyer, and that she herself had invited his concurrence. "TheQueen, whom the Cardinal had persecuted in such a variety of ways, didnot doubt that, if the King should chance to die, that minister wouldseek to deprive her of her children, in order to assume the Regencyhimself. She secretly instigated De Thou to seek the Duke de Bouillonwith persevering entreaties. She asked the latter whether, in the eventof the King's death, he would promise to receive her and her twochildren in his stronghold of Sedan, believing--so firmly persuaded wasshe of the evil designs of the Cardinal, and of his power--that therewas no other place of safety for them throughout the realm of France. "De Thou further told the Duke de Bouillon that since the King's illnessthe Queen and the Duke d'Orleans were very closely allied, and that itwas through Cinq Mars that their alliance had been brought about. Now, where the Queen was so deeply implicated it was not likely that Mdme. DeChevreuse would stand aloof. A friend of Richelieu, whose name has notcome down to us, but who must have been perfectly well informed, doesnot hesitate to place Mdme. De Chevreuse as well as the Queen amongstthose who then endeavoured to overthrow Richelieu. "M. Le Grand, " hewrites to the Cardinal, [5] "has been urged to his wicked designs by theQueen-mother, by her daughter (Henrietta Maria), by the Queen of France, by Mdme. De Chevreuse, by Montagu, and other English Papists. " At lengththe Cardinal, on an early day in June, 1642, retired to Tarascon, ostensibly for the sake of his health, but doubtless for safety also, accompanied by his two bosom friends, Mazarin and Chavigny, and thefaithful regiments of his guards. Finding himself surrounded by peril onall sides, and representing to Louis XIII. The gravity of the situation, he cited that which had been alleged of Mdme. De Chevreuse as amongstthe most striking indications of the truth of what he stated. [6]

 [5] Archives des Affaires Étrangères; FRANCE, tom. CI. 

 [6] Archives des Affaires Étrangères; FRANCE, tom. Cii. Inedited Memoir of Richelieu. 

But what _was_ the party in fact then conspiring against Richelieu? Wasit not the party of former coalitions--of the League, of Austria, and ofSpain? And Mdme. Chevreuse at Brussels, through her connection with theDuke de Lorraine, the Queen of England, the Chevalier de Jars at Rome, the Minister Olivarez at Madrid--was she not one of the great motivepowers of that party? When, therefore, such machinery was found to beagain in activity, it was quite reasonable to suspect the hand of Mdme. De Chevreuse in all its movements. 

The gathering cloud that now lowered so thick and threatening above thehead of Richelieu seemed pregnant with inevitable destruction to hispower and life. But ere long his eagle glance pierced through theovershadowing gloom, and the aim of Cinq Mars' dark intrigue becameclearly revealed to his far-seeing introspection. A treachery, thesecret of which has remained impenetrable to every research made duringthe last two centuries, caused the treaty concluded with Spain throughthe intervention of Fontrailles, and bearing the signatures of Gaston, Cinq Mars, and the Duke de Bouillon, to fall into his hands. From thatinstant the Cardinal felt certain of victory. He knew Louis XIII. Thoroughly; he conjectured that he might in some access of his morbidand changeful humour have uttered reproachful words against his Ministerin the favourite's ear--even expressed a wish to be rid of him, as didour first Plantagenet when tired of the despotism of Thomas àBecket--and had perhaps listened to strange proposals for effecting suchobject. But the Cardinal knew right well also to what extent Louis was aking and a Frenchman, and devoted by self-interest to their commonsystem. He despatched, therefore, Chavigny in all haste from Narbonnewith irrefragable evidence of the treaty made with Spain. Louis, thunderstricken, could scarcely believe his own eyes. He sank into agloomy reverie, out of which he emerged only to give way to bursts ofindignation against the favourite who could thus abuse his confidenceand conspire with the foreigner. It was needless to inflame his anger, he was the first to call for an exemplary punishment. Not for a day, notfor an hour, did his heart soften towards the youthful culprit who hadbeen so dear to him. He thought only of his crime, and signed without aninstant's hesitation his death-warrant. If Louis the Just spared theDuke de Bouillon, it was merely to acquire Sedan. If he pardoned hisbrother Gaston, he at the same time dishonoured him by depriving him ofall authority in the State. Upon a report spread by a servant ofFontrailles, and which Fontrailles' memoirs fully confirm, hissuspicions were directed towards the Queen; and no one afterwards coulddivest his mind of the conviction that in this instance, as in theaffair of Chalais, Anne of Austria had an understanding with hisbrother, the Duke d'Orleans. What would he have done had he perused thestatement of Fontrailles, the Duke de Bouillon's memoirs, a letter ofTurenne, and the declaration of La Rochefoucauld? Their united testimonyis so concordant that it is altogether irresistible. The Queen rackedher brains to exorcise this fresh storm, and to persuade the King andRichelieu of her innocence. Anne went much farther; she did not confineherself to falsehood and dissimulation. Menaced by imminent danger, shewent so far as to repudiate that courageous friend who had been so longand steadfastly devoted to her. Had fortune declared in her favour shewould have embraced the Duchess as a deliverer. Vanquished and disarmed, she abandoned her. As she had protested in terms of horror against theconspiracy that had failed, her two young, imprudent, and ill-starredaccomplices, Cinq Mars and De Thou, mounted the scaffold withoutbreathing her name. Finding also both the King and Richelieu violentlyexasperated against Mdme. De Chevreuse, and firmly resolved to rejectthe renewed entreaties of her family to obtain her recall, Anne ofAustria, far from interceding for her faithful adherent, warmly sidedwith her enemies; and further, to indicate the change in her ownsentiments, and seem to applaud that which she could not prevent, sheasked as an especial favour that the Duchess might be estranged from herperson, and even from France. "The Queen, " wrote Chavigny, Richelieu'sMinister for Foreign Affairs, "has pointedly asked me if it were truethat Mdme. De Chevreuse would return; and, without waiting for a reply, she signified to me that she should be vexed to find her presently inFrance; that she now saw the Duchess in her proper light; and shecommanded me to pray His Eminence on her part, if he had any mind tofavour Mdme. De Chevreuse, that it might be done without granting herpermission to return to France. I assured her Majesty that she shouldhave satisfaction on that point. "[7]

 [7] Archives des Affaires Étrangères, FRANCE, tom. CI. 

Poor Marie de Rohan! Her heart already bled from many wounds, but thislast was the "unkindest cut of all. " Her position had indeed becomefrightful, and calculated to sink her to the lowest depth of despair. Nohope of seeing her native land again, her princely château, herchildren, her favourite daughter Charlotte! Deriving scarcely anythingfrom France, deeply in debt, and with credit exhausted, she foundherself entirely at the end of her resources. How thoroughly did thebanished woman then realise the woes of exile--how hard it is to climband descend the stranger's stair, experience the hollowness of hispromise, and the arrogance of his commiseration. And, finally, as thoughfated to drain her cup of bitterness to the last drop, to learn thatshe, her long-loved bosom friend and royal mistress, who owed her, atthe very least, a silent fidelity, had openly ranged herself on the sideof fortune and Richelieu!

In a condition of mental torture the most acute, resulting from suchaccumulated misfortune, Madame de Chevreuse remained for several monthswith no other support than that of her innate high-souled courage. Atlength, towards the close of that eventful year, the golden grooves ofchange rung out a joyous pæan to gladden the heart of the much-enduringexile. Suddenly Marie--all Europe--heard with a throb that theinscrutable, iron-handed man of all the human race most dreaded alike byStates as by individuals, had yielded to a stronger power than his own, and had closed his eyes in death (December 4, 1642). Within a few shortmonths afterwards the King also, whose regal power he had consolidatedat such a cost in blood and suffering, followed the great statesman tothe tomb; having entrusted the Regency, very much against his will, tothe Queen, but controlled by a Council, over which presided as PrimeMinister the man most devoted to Richelieu's system--his closest friend, confidant, and creature--Jules Mazarin. 

A passage in the funeral oration on Louis XIII. Summed up briefly butsignificantly the result of Richelieu's gigantic efforts to consolidatethe regal power. "Sixty-three kings, " it said, "had preceded him in ruleof the realm, but he alone had rendered it absolute, and what allcollectively had been impotent to achieve in the course of twelvecenturies for the grandeur of France, he had accomplished in the shortspace of thirty-three years. " It was against that absolute powerincarnate in Richelieu, which from the steps of the throne hurled men tothe earth with its bolts rather than governed them, that Mazarin wasdestined later to encounter the reaction of the Fronde. 

Distrustful of leaving Anne of Austria in uncontrolled possession ofregal authority, Louis by his last will and testament had placedroyalty, including his brother Gaston as lieutenant-general of therealm, in a manner under a commission. And further, Louis did notbelieve that he could ensure quiet to the State after his death withoutconfirming and perpetuating, so far as in him lay, the perpetual exileof Madame de Chevreuse. 

As the pupil and confidential friend of Richelieu, Mazarin had imbibedboth that statesman's and the late king's opinions and sentimentstouching the influence of that eminently dangerous woman. Though he hadnever seen her hitherto, he was not the less well acquainted with her byrepute: dreading her mortally, and cherishing a like antipathy to herfriend Châteauneuf. He knew the Duchess to be as seductive as she wastalented, experienced and courageous in party strife--an instance ofwhich was that she could sway entirely a man of such ambition andcapacity as the former Keeper of the Seals. Attached, moreover, insecret to Lorraine, to Austria, and to Spain, all this was as absolutelyincompatible with the exclusive favour to which he aspired at the handsof his royal mistress as it was with all his diplomatic and militarydesigns. The solemn injunctions of the late king's will, whiledenouncing Madame de Chevreuse and Châteauneuf as the two mostillustrious victims of the close of his reign, embodied also the headsof the policy which it was that monarch's wish should be continued byRichelieu's successor. "Forasmuch, " ran the will, "that for weightyreasons, important to the welfare of our State, we found ourselvescompelled to deprive the Sieur de Châteauneuf of the post of Keeper ofthe Seals of France, and have him sent to the Castle of Angoulême, inwhich he has remained by our command up to the present time, we will andintend that the said Sieur de Châteauneuf remain in the same state inwhich he is at present, in the said Castle of Angoulême, until after thepeace be concluded and executed; under charge, nevertheless, that heshall not then be set at liberty save by the order of the Queen-Regent, under the advice of her Council, which shall appoint a place to which heshall retire, within the realm or without the realm, as may be judgedbest. And as our design is to take foresight of all such subjects as maypossibly in some way or other disturb the precautionary arrangementswhich we have made to preserve the repose and safety of our realm, theknowledge that we have of the bad conduct of the Lady Duchess deChevreuse, of the artifices which she has employed up to this momentwithout the kingdom with our enemies, made us judge it fitting to forbidher, as we do, entrance into our kingdom during the war: desiring eventhat after the peace be concluded and executed she may not return intoour kingdom, save only under the orders of the said Lady Queen-Regent, with the advice of the said Council, under charge, nevertheless, thatshe shall not either take up her abode or be in any place near to theCourt or to the said Queen-Regent. "

Within a few days only after the decease of Louis XIII. That sameParliament which had enrolled his will reformed it. The Queen-Regent wasfreed from every fetter and restriction, and invested with almostabsolute sovereignty; the ban was removed from the proscribed couple sosolemnly denounced, Châteauneuf's prison doors were thrown open, andMadame de Chevreuse quitted Brussels triumphantly, with a cortége oftwenty carriages, filled with lords and ladies of the highest rank inthat Court, to return once more to France and to the side of her royalfriend and mistress. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 RETURN OF MADAME DE CHEVREUSE TO COURT. 

AFTER ten years' absence from the scene of her former triumphs, socialand political, did the brilliant Duchess then once more find herselfsafe and free in France. The _Gazette de Renaudot_--the _Moniteur_ ofthat day--recording the return of Madame de Chevreuse, on the 14th ofJune, 1643, remarks[1]:--"During such long exile, this princess hasmanifested what an elevated mind like hers can do, in spite of all thosevicissitudes of fortune which her constancy has surmounted. The Duchesswent to pay homage to their Majesties, during which visit she receivedso many tokens of affection from the Queen-Regent, and gave her inreturn such proofs of her zeal in everything relating to her service, and so much resignation to her will, that it indeed appears that lengthof time, distance, or thorny asperities can only prevail over commonminds. Hence the great train of visitors from this Court to her daily, and for which her spacious hotel scarcely affords room, does not exciteso much wonder as the fact which has been the subject of remark, thatthe fatigue consequent upon long journeys and the rigour of adversefortune have worked no change in her magnanimity, nor--which is the moreextraordinary--in her beauty. "

 [1] No. Lxxvii. P. 579. 

Making due allowance for the inflated diction of the complaisant Courtnewswriter, let us endeavour to approach somewhat nearer to the truth. 

Madame de Chevreuse had then entered upon her forty-third year. Thoughstill surprisingly well-preserved, her beauty, tried by adversity, wasvisibly on the decline. The inclination to gallantry still existed, butsubdued, politics having gained the supremacy. She had formed theacquaintance of, and held political relations with, the most celebratedstatesmen in Europe. She had figured at almost all its Courts, thestrength and weakness of its several Governments were known to her, andin her wanderings, having seen "men and cities, " she had acquired alarge experience. The tried favourite hoped to find Anne of Austria thesame as she had left her--averse to business, and very willing to allowherself to be led by those for whom she had a particular affection; andas Madame de Chevreuse had been in her youthful days paramount in theQueen's affection, she fully expected to exercise over her that twofoldascendancy which love and capacity would jointly give. More ambitiousfor her friends than for herself, she saw them already rewarded fortheir long sacrifices, replacing everywhere the creatures of Richelieu, and at their head, in the highest post, as first minister, him who forher sake had broken with the triumphant Cardinal, and had endured animprisonment of ten tedious years. She did not care much about Mazarin, with whom she had no acquaintance, whom she had never seen, and whoappeared to her unsupported either by the Court or the French nation, whilst she felt herself sustained by all that was illustrious, powerful, and accredited therein. She believed that she could make sure of theDuke d'Orleans through his wife, the beautiful Margaret, sister ofCharles of Lorraine. She could dispose almost at will of the Houses ofRohan and Lorraine, particularly of the Duke de Guise and the Duked'Elbeuf, like herself just returned from Flanders. She reckoned uponthe Vendômes, upon the Duke d'Epernon, upon La Vieuville, her oldcompanions in exile in England; upon the ill-treated Bouillons, upon LaRochefoucauld, whose disposition and pretensions were so well known toher; upon Lord Montagu, who had been her slave, and at that momentpossessed the entire confidence of Anne of Austria; upon La Châtre, thefriend of the Vendômes, and Colonel-General of the Swiss Guards; uponTreville, upon Beringhen, upon Jars, upon La Porte, who were allemerging from exile, prison, and disgrace. Among the women, her youngstepmother and her sister-in-law seemed secure--Madame de Montbazon andMadame de Guéméné, the two greatest beauties of the time, who drew afterthem a numerous crowd of old and young adorers. She knew also that amongthe first acts of the Regent had been the recall to her side of the twonoble victims of Richelieu--Madame de Senécé and Madame de Hautefort, whose virtue and piety had conspired so beneficially with otherinfluences, and had given them an inestimable weight in the household ofAnne of Austria. All those calculations seemed accurate, all those hopeswell-founded; and Madame de Chevreuse left Brussels firmly persuadedthat she was about to re-enter the Louvre as a conqueress. She deceivedherself: the Queen was already changed, or very nearly so. 

To show due honour to her former favourite, however, Anne of Austriadespatched La Rochefoucauld to greet and escort her homewards; butbefore he set out she charged him to inform the Duchess of the altereddisposition in which she would find her royal mistress. During thataudience Rochefoucauld did his utmost to reinstate his charming friendand close ally in the Queen's good graces. "I spoke to her, " says he, "with more freedom perhaps than was becoming. I set before her Madame deChevreuse's fidelity, her long-continued services, and the severity ofthe misfortunes which they had entailed upon her. I entreated her toconsider of what fickleness she would be thought capable, and whatinterpretation might be placed upon such inconsiderateness if she shouldprefer Cardinal Mazarin to Madame de Chevreuse. Our conversation waslong and stormy, and I saw clearly that I had exasperated her. " He thenstarted to meet the Duchess on the road from Brussels, and found her atRoye, whither Montagu had already preceded him. Montagu had travelled toRoye to place Mazarin's homage at the feet of Madame de Chevreuse, withthe view of bringing about at any cost an union and identity of policybetween the old and the new favourite. He was no longer the gay andsprightly Walter Montagu, the friend of Holland and Buckingham, theenamoured knight ever ready to break a lance against all comers for aglance of the bright eyes of Madame de Chevreuse. Time had changed himas well as others: he had become a bigot and a devotee, and alreadycontemplated taking orders in the Church of Rome. He still remained, however, attached to the object of his former adoration, but above allhe belonged to the Queen, and consequently resigned to Mazarin. LaRochefoucauld--ever ready to ascribe to himself the chief share in anyundertaking in which he figured, as well as the character of a greatpolitician--asserts that he entreated Madame de Chevreuse not toattempt at first to govern the Queen, but to endeavour solely to regainin Anne's mind and heart that place of which it had been sought todeprive her, and to put herself in a position in which she would be ableto protect or ruin the Cardinal, according to conduct or circumstancesemanating from himself. 

The Duchess listened attentively to the advice of both her old friends, promised to follow it, and did so in fact, but in her own peculiar way, and in that of the interest of the party she had so long served, andwhich she would not abandon. As Anne of Austria seemed much pleased atseeing the noble wanderer again, and gave her a warm reception, Mariedid not perceive any difference in the Queen's sentiments, and flatteredherself that by constant assiduousness she would ere long resume thatsway over the Regent's mind she had formerly exercised. 

Operating against this not unreasonable expectation of Madame deChevreuse, Mazarin had a silent but potent ally in the newly-awakenedinclination of Anne for repose and a tranquil life. The first draughtsof almost supreme power tasted by the long-oppressed Queen were not yetembittered by faction and anarchy. In bygone days, insult, neglect, andpersecution had stirred her at intervals into mental activity, and urgedher upon dangerous courses; but now, having obtained all she aimed at, happy, and beginning to form attachments, she entertained a dread oftroublesome adventures and hazardous enterprises. She therefore fearedMadame de Chevreuse quite as much as she loved her. The astute Cardinalanxiously strove to foster such distrust. He looked for support from thePrincess de Condé, then high in the Queen's favour, both through her ownmerit as well as that of the Prince her husband, but more than allthrough the brilliant exploits of her son, the Duke d'Enghien; throughthe services also of her son-in-law the Duke de Longueville, who had, with honourable distinction, commanded the armies of Italy and Germany, and by her recently-married daughter, Madame de Longueville, already thedarling of the _salons_ and the Court. The Princess, like Queen Anne, had in the heyday of her beauty been fond of homage and gallantry, buthad now grown serious, and displayed a somewhat lively piety. She heldMadame de Chevreuse in aversion, and detested Châteauneuf, who, in 1632, at Toulouse, had presided at the trial and condemnation of her brother, Henri de Montmorency. She therefore had striven, in concert withMazarin, to destroy or at least weaken Madame de Chevreuse's hold uponthe Queen. Armed with the last will of Louis XIII. , they had made itappear something like a fault in the Queen's eyes to disregard it sosoon and so entirely. They had given her to understand that former daysand associations could never return; that the amusements and passions ofearly youth were but "evil accompaniments"[2] of a later period of life;that now she was before all things a mother and a Queen; that Madame deChevreuse, dissipated and carried away by passion, and cherishing thesame inclination for gallantry and idle vanity as hitherto, was nolonger worthy of her confidence; that she had brought good fortune to noone; and that in lavishing wealth and honour upon the Duchess the debtof gratitude she owed her would be sufficiently discharged. 

 [2] Madame de Motteville, tom. I. P. 162. --"Mauvais accompagnements. "

BOOK II. 

CHAPTER I. 

 ANNE OF AUSTRIA'S PRIME MINISTER AND HIS POLICY. 

AND now what was the actual position of Mazarin on succeeding to powerin 1643?

Richelieu had died admired and abhorred. The people, glad to bedelivered from so heavy a yoke, obeyed with joy the incipient rule ofthe Queen-Regent. The courtiers were at first enchanted with aGovernment that refused nothing asked of it. It appeared, as one of thenumber said, that there were no more than five little words in theFrench language: "_La reine est si bonne!_"[1] The State prisons threwopen their gates; the rights of parliaments were respected; the princesof the blood and the great nobles were restored to their governorships. There was for a season one unanimous concert of praise and thanksgiving. But when the princes and parliaments were desirous, as beforeRichelieu's rule, of participating in the general direction of theState, and especially in the distribution of place and patronage, greatwas the surprise of both at finding a steady resistance on the part ofthe Queen-Regent. To see her manifest a disposition to govern withoutthem was looked upon as something scandalous. Every attempt she madethenceforward to retain a power which they evaded, or to repossessherself of that which she had imprudently suffered to escape from hergrasp, seemed to them nothing less than a continuation of the odioussystem of Richelieu. Their exasperation was increased to the highestdegree, therefore, when they beheld her give her entire confidence to aforeigner, to a Cardinal, to a creature of Richelieu. By that tripletitle Mazarin was equally hateful to the great nobles, the members ofparliament, and the middle class. The tyranny of Richelieu had in theend attained to something noble by the high-handed heedlessness of allhis acts. If the people were to be trampled on, it was a species ofconsolation that their oppressor was feared by others as well asthemselves. But that the oppression of the doomed French nation was tobe continued by a more ignoble hand was altogether intolerable. Frenchmen had begun to ask one another, who _was_ this Mazarin who hadcome to rule over them? He could not--like Richelieu--boast of his highbirth, of descent from a long line of noble ancestors--Frenchmen. Poetsand romancers, ye whose imaginations delight to dwell upon suddendownfalls and rapid rises, mark well that little lad at play upon theSicilian shore near the town of Mazzara! Springing from the lowest ofthe plebeian class, his family have not even a surname. He is the son ofone Pierre, a fisherman, whose humble hut stands yonder beneath thecliff. But a day will come when that lowly-born lad, joining hisbaptismal name to that of the town which sheltered his cradle, willbecome Jules de Mazarin, robed in the Roman purple, quartering hisshield with the consular fasces of Julius Cæsar, governing France, andthrough her preparing and influencing the destinies of entire Europe. 

 [1] De Retz Memoirs, Petitot Collection. 

It was not, however, by easy steps that Richelieu's disciple andsuccessor obtained a firm grasp of that plenary power which the mastermind of the former had consolidated and long wielded so grandly andterribly. The Queen herself at the commencement of the Regency had notyet renounced her former friendships. During a considerable portion ofher married life Anne had impatiently endured the slights anddisparagements to which she was so long subjected, both by her husbandand his Minister. Through engaging in divers dangerous and unsuccessfulenterprises, she had been deprived of all influence, and was a queenonly in name. But, a woman and a Spaniard, she had descended todissimulation, and in that "ugly but necessary virtue"[2] made rapidprogress. Up to the time of Richelieu's death she had played a doublegame--made partisans in secret, with the object of subverting theCardinal's power, whilst feigning the semblance of friendship towardshim, and did not scruple to humiliate herself on occasions, in order tocarry her point. After that great man's decease, through rare patience, great caution, and a persistent line of conduct, she ultimately attainedthat for which she had been willing to make any and every sacrifice--theRegency. During the King's last illness, the mistrusted Queen and wifehad profited by Mazarin's unhoped-for service, as Prime Minister, inprevailing over the unwillingness of the dying King to appoint hercustodian of his son, and Regent during his minority. She regarded this, therefore, as a first and most important service on the part of Mazarintowards her, and for which she felt proportionately grateful. Such wasthe Cardinal's first stepping-stone to the good graces of Anne ofAustria, and his twofold talent both as a laborious and indefatigablestatesman and a consummate courtier, speedily helped to secure for himher entire confidence. The singular personal resemblance he bore to thatdesperate _enamorado_ of her early womanhood, the brilliant Buckingham, may probably also have served him as a favourable prestige. On heraccession to power Anne did not manifest much firmness of character. Naturally indolent, she disliked the drudgery attendant upon businessdetails, and hence continued through convenience the services of a manwho, by taking off her hands the wearisome routine of State affairs, allowed her to reign at her ease. 

 [2] Madame de Motteville. 

Mazarin, moreover, had never been displeasing to her. He had begun toingratiate himself during the month preceding the death of LouisXIII. , [3] and she named him Prime Minister about the middle ofMay--partly through personal liking, but more through politicalnecessity. Far from appearing to resemble the impassive and imperiousRichelieu, Anne perhaps might have recalled with agreeable emotion thewords of her deceased consort when he first presented Mazarin to her (in1639 or 1640)--"He will please you, madame, because he bears a strikingresemblance to Buckingham. " By degrees the liking increased, and grewsufficiently strong to resist every assault from his enemies. At thesame time the Minister to whom the Queen owed so much, instead ofdictating to and presuming to govern her, was ever at her feet, andprodigal of that attention, respect, and tenderness to which she hadbeen hitherto a stranger. 

 [3] Louis died May 14th, 1643. 

It is a delicate matter to investigate with exactitude the means bywhich Mazarin obtained entire sway over the Queen-Regent, and one whichLa Rochefoucauld scarcely touches upon; but it is too interesting apoint in history to be left in the dark, and thereby to altogetherdisregard that which first constituted the minister's strength, andsoon afterwards became the centre and key of the situation. After a longseason of oppression, regal powers and splendour gilded the hours ofAnne of Austria, and her Spanish pride exacted the tribute of respectand homage. Mazarin was prodigal of both. He cast himself at her feet inorder to reach her heart. In her heart of hearts she was not the lesstouched by the grave accusation brought against him that he was aforeigner, for was not she also a foreigner? Perhaps that of itselfproved the source of a mysterious attraction to her, and she may havefound it a singular pleasure to converse with her Prime Minister in hermother tongue as a compatriot and friend. To all this must be added themind and manners of Mazarin--supple and insinuating, always master ofhimself, of an unchangeable serenity amidst the gravest circumstances, full of confidence in his good star, and diffusing that confidencearound him. It must also be remembered that Cardinal although he was, Mazarin was not a priest; that imbued with the maxims which formed thecode of gallantry of her native land, Anne of Austria had always lovedto please the other sex; that she was then forty-one and stillbeautiful, that her Prime Minister was of the same age, that he wasexceedingly well-made and of a most pleasing countenance, in which_finesse_, was blended with a certain air of greatness. He had readilyrecognised that without ancestry, establishment, or support in France, and surrounded by rivals and enemies, all his strength centred in theQueen. He applied himself therefore above all things to gain her heart, as Richelieu had tried before him; and as he happily possessed far othermeans for attaining success in that respect, the handsome andgentle-mannered Cardinal eventually succeeded. Once master of her heart, he easily directed the mind of Anne of Austria, and taught her thedifficult art of pursuing ever the same end by the aid of conduct themost diverse, according to the difference of circumstances. 

But favourable and indeed gracious as his royal mistress had shownherself towards him personally, and apart from any particular line ofpolicy, at the outset of his premiership Mazarin had nevertheless tocontend against a formidable host of enemies; and not the leastredoubtable among them might be reckoned that intrepid political heroinethe lately-banished Duchess de Chevreuse. No sooner did she again findherself at the side of Anne of Austria than the indefatigable Marie setto work with all her characteristic dash, spirit, and energy to attackRichelieu's system and its adherents, now directed by Mazarin. 

The first point she sought to carry was the return of Châteauneuf tooffice. "The good sense and long experience of M. De Châteauneuf, " saysLa Rochefoucauld, "were known to the Queen. He had undergone a rigorousimprisonment for his adhesion to her cause; he was firm, decisive, lovedthe State, and more capable than anyone else of re-establishing the oldform of government which Richelieu had first begun to destroy. Firmlyattached to Mdme. De Chevreuse, she knew sufficiently-well how to governhim. She therefore urged his return with much warmth. " Châteauneuf hadalready obtained as a royal boon that the "rude and miserable condition"of close incarceration under which he had groaned for ten years shouldbe changed for a compulsory residence at one of his country houses. Mdme. De Chevreuse demanded the termination of this mitigated exile, that she might once more behold him free who had endured suchextremities for the Queen's sake and her own. Mazarin saw that he mustyield, but only did so tardily, never appearing himself to repulseChâteauneuf, but always alleging the paramount necessity of conciliatingthe Condé family, and especially the Princess, who, as already said, bore bitter enmity towards him as the judge of her brother, Henri deMontmorency. Châteauneuf was therefore recalled, but with thatreservation accorded to the last clause of the King's will, that heshould not appear at Court, but reside at his own house of Montrouge, near Paris, where his friends might visit him. 

The next step was to transfer him thence to some ministerial office. Châteauneuf was no longer a young man, but neither his energy nor hisambition had deserted him, and Mdme. De Chevreuse made it a point ofhonour to reinstate him in the post of Keeper of the Seals, which he hadformerly held and lost through her, and which all Queen Anne's oldfriends now saw with indignation occupied by one of the most detested ofRichelieu's creatures, Pierre Séguier. This last, however, was a man ofcapacity--laborious, well-informed and full of resources. To thesequalifications he added a remarkable suppleness, which made him veryuseful and accommodating to a Prime Minister. He moreover had thesupport of friends who stood high in the Queen's favour, and was furtherstrengthened by the opposition of the Condés and the Bishop of Beauvaisto Châteauneuf. The Duchess perceiving that it was almost impossible tosurmount so powerful an opposition, took another way of arriving at thesame end. She contented herself with asking for the lowest seat in thecabinet for her friend; well knowing that once installed therein, Châteauneuf would soon manage all the rest and aggrandise his position. 

At the same time that she strove to extricate from disgrace the man uponwhom rested all her political hopes, Madame de Chevreuse, not daring toattack Mazarin overtly, insensibly undermined the ground beneath hisfeet, and step by step prepared his ruin. Her experienced eye enabledher promptly to perceive the most favourable point of attack whence toassail the Queen, and the watchword she passed was to fan and keep aliveto the utmost the general feeling of reprobation which all theproscribed, on returning to France, had aroused and disseminated againstthe memory of Richelieu. This feeling was universal--among the greatfamilies he had decimated or despoiled;--in the Church, too firmlyrepressed not to be unmindful of its abasement;--in the Parliament, strictly confined to its judicial functions, and aspiring to breakthrough such narrow limits. The same feeling was still alive in theQueen's bosom, who could not have forgotten the deep humiliation towhich Richelieu had subjected her, and the fate for which he hadprobably reserved her. These tactics succeeded, and on every side therearose against the late violence and tyranny, and, by a rebound, againstthe creatures of Richelieu, a storm so furious that Mazarin's utmostability was taxed to allay it. 

Madame de Chevreuse likewise supplicated Anne of Austria to repair thelong-endured misfortunes of the Vendôme princes, by bestowing upon themeither the Admiralty, to which an immense power was attached, or thegovernment of Brittany, which the head of the family, Cæsar de Vendôme, had formerly held--deriving it alike from the hand of his father, HenryIV. , and as the heritage of his father-in-law, the Duke de Mercoeur. This was nothing less than demanding the aggrandisement of an unfriendlyhouse, and at the same time the ruin of two families that had servedRichelieu with the utmost devotion, and were best capable of supportingMazarin. The Minister parried the blow aimed at him by the Duchess bydint of address and patience, never refusing, always eluding, andsummoning to his aid his grand ally, as he termed it--Time. Before thereturn of Madame de Chevreuse he had found himself forced to win overthe Vendômes, and to secure them in his interest. On Richelieu's deathhe had strenuously contributed to obtain their recall, and had sincemade them every kind of advance; but he soon perceived that he could notsatisfy them without bringing about his own destruction. The Duke Cæsarde Vendôme, son of Henry IV. And _The Fair Gabrielle_, had early carriedhis pretensions to a great height, and had shown himself restless andfactious as a legitimate prince. He had passed his life in revolts andconspiracies, and in 1641 had been compelled to flee to England throughsuspicion of being implicated in an attempt to assassinate Richelieu. Hedid not dare return to France until after the Cardinal's death; and, asmay well be imagined, he came back breathing the direst vengeance. Against the ambition of the Vendômes Mazarin skilfully opposed that ofthe Condés, who were inimical to the aggrandisement of a house toonearly rivalling their own. But it was very difficult to retain Brittanyin the hands of its newly-appointed governor, the Marshal La Meilleraie, in face of the claim of a son of Henry the Great, who had formerly heldit, and demanded it back as a sort of heirloom. Mazarin thereforeresigned himself to the sacrifice of La Meilleraie, but he lightened itas much as possible. He persuaded the Queen to assume to herself thegovernment of Brittany, and have only a lieutenant-general over it--apost, of course, beneath the dignity of the Vendômes, and which would, therefore, remain in La Meilleraie's hands. The latter could not takeoffence at being second in power therein to the Queen; and to arrangeeverything to the entire satisfaction of a person of such importance, Mazarin solicited for him soon afterwards the title of duke, which thedeceased King had, in fact, promised the Marshal, and the reversion ofthe post of Grand Master of the Artillery for his son--that same son onwhom subsequently Mazarin bestowed, with his own name, the hand of hisniece, the beautiful Hortense. 

Mazarin was so much the less inclined to favour the house of Vendômefrom having encountered a dangerous rival in the Queen's good graces, inVendôme's youngest son, Beaufort, a young, bold, and flourishinggallant, who displayed ostentatiously all the exterior signs of loyaltyand chivalry, and affected for Anne of Austria a passionate devotion notlikely to be displeasing. "He was tall, well-made, dexterous, andindefatigable in all warlike exercises, " says La Rochefoucauld, "butartificial withal, and wanting in truthfulness of character. Mentally hewas heavy and badly cultivated; nevertheless he attained his objectscleverly enough through the blunt coarseness of his manners. He was ofhigh but unsteady courage, and was not a little envious andmalignant. "[4] De Retz does not, like La Rochefoucauld, accuse Beaufortof artificiality, but represents him as presumptuous and of thoroughincapacity. His portrait of him, though over-coloured, like most othersfrom the coadjutor's pen, is sufficiently faithful, but at thecommencement of the Regency, the defects of the Duke de Beaufort had notfully declared themselves, and were less conspicuous than his goodqualities. Some few days before her husband's death, Anne of Austria hadplaced her children under his charge--a mark of confidence that soelated him that the young Duke conceived hopes which his impetuosityhindered him from sufficiently disguising. Indeed, these were presumedupon so far as to give offence to the Queen; and, as the height ofinconsistency, he committed at the same time the egregious folly ofpublicly enacting the led-captain in the rosy chains of the handsome butdecried Duchess de Montbazon. It was only, however, by slow degrees thatthe Queen's liking for him abated. At first, she had proposed to conferupon him the post of Grand-Écuyer, vacant since the death of theunfortunate Cinq-Mars, which would have kept him in close attendanceupon her, and was altogether a fitting appointment--for Beaufort hadnothing of the statesman in him; with little intellect and no reticence, he was also averse to steady application to business, and capable onlyof some bold and violent course of action. The Duke had the folly torefuse this post of Grand-Écuyer, hoping for a better; and then, altering his mind when it was too late, he solicited it only to incurdisappointment. [5] The more his favour diminished, the more hisirritation increased, and it was not long ere he placed himself at thehead of the Cardinal's bitterest enemies. 

 [4] La Rochefoucauld. 

 [5] Mazarin himself has furnished this fact, otherwise unknown, in one of his diaries (_Carnet_, pp. 72, 73). The Cardinal-Minister was in the habit of jotting down the chief events of each day in these small memorandum books (_Carnets_), which he kept in the pocket of his cassock. 

Madame de Chevreuse hoped to be more fortunate in securing thegovernorship of Havre for a very different sort of person--for a man oftried devotedness and of a rare and subtle intellect--La Rochefoucauld. She would thereby recompense the services rendered to the Queen andherself, strengthen and aggrandize one of the chiefs of the_Importants_, and weaken Mazarin by depriving of an important governmenta person upon whom he had entire reliance--Richelieu's niece, theDuchess d'Aiguillon. The Cardinal succeeded in rendering thismanoeuvre abortive, without appearing to have any hand in it. Andherein, as in many other matters, the art of Mazarin was to wear thesemblance of merely confirming the Queen in the resolves with which heinspired her. 

In thus attributing these various designs, this connected and consistentline of conduct, to Madame de Chevreuse, we do not advance it as our ownopinion, but as that of La Rochefoucauld, who must have been perfectlywell informed. He attributes it to her both in his own affairs and inthose of the Vendômes. Neither was Mazarin blind to the fact, for morethan once in his private notes we read these words:--"My greatestenemies are the Vendômes and Madame de Chevreuse, who urges them on. " Hetells us also that she had formed the project of marrying her charmingdaughter Charlotte, then sixteen, to the Vendôme's eldest son, the Dukede Mercoeur, whilst his brother Beaufort should espouse the wealthyMademoiselle d'Epernon, who foiled these designs, and even greaterstill, by throwing herself at four-and-twenty into a convent ofCarmelites. These marriages, which would have reconciled, united, andstrengthened so many great houses, moderately attached to the Queen andher minister, terrified Richelieu's successor. He therefore sought tofoil them by every means in his power, and succeeded in prevailing uponthe Queen to frustrate them in an underhand way; having found that theunion of Mademoiselle de Vendôme with the brilliant but restless Duke deNemours had caused him more than ordinary anxiety. 

If the intricate details of those counter intrigues of Mazarin andMadame de Chevreuse be followed attentively, we are at a loss to say towhich of the two antagonists the palm for skill, sagacity, and addressshould be given. Whilst Mazarin was astute enough to make a certainamount of sacrifice in order to reserve to himself the right of notmaking greater--treating everyone with apparent consideration, renderingno one desperate, promising much, holding back the least possible_proprio motu_ of himself, and surrounding Madame de Chevreuse herselfwith attention and homage without suffering any illusion to beguile himas to the nature of her sentiments--she, on her part, paid him back inthe same coin. La Rochefoucauld says that during these _mollia tempora_, Madame de Chevreuse and Mazarin actually flirted with each other. TheDuchess, who had always intermingled gallantry with politics, tried, asit appears, the power of her charms upon the Cardinal. The latter, onhis side, failed not to lavish honeyed words, and "essayoit même quelquefois de lui faire croire qu'elle lui donnoit de l'amour. "[6] There wereother ladies also, it seems, who would not have been sorry to please thehandsome First Minister a little. Amongst these might be numbered thePrincess de Guéméné, [7] one of the greatest beauties of the FrenchCourt, who, certainly, if only one half the stories related of her betrue, was by no means of a ferocious disposition in affairs ofgallantry. This lady, as well as her husband, were both favourable toMazarin, in spite of all the efforts of Madame de Montbazon, and Madamede Chevreuse, her sister-in-law. It may be readily imagined that Mazarindevoted great attention to Madame de Guéméné, and did not fail to payher a host of compliments, as he did to Madame de Chevreuse; but as hewent no further, the two gay ladies were at a loss to conceive what somany compliments coupled with so much reserve meant. They sometimesasked which of the two was really the object of his admiration; and ashe still made no further advances at the same time that he continued hisgallant protestations, "these ladies, " says Mazarin, "si esamina la miavita e si conclude che io sia impotente. "[8]

 [6] La Rochefoucauld, Memoirs, p. 383. 

 [7] Anne de Rohan, wife of M. De Guéméné, eldest son of the Duke de Montbazon, and brother of Madame de Chevreuse. 

 [8] Carnet, iii. P. 39. 

Political intrigue had become such an affair of fashion among the Courtdames of that day, that those of the highest rank made no scruple ofbringing into play all the artillery of their wit and beauty wheneverthey could contribute to the success of their enterprises. Still endowedwith those two potent gifts to an eminent degree, Madame de Chevreusebrought all her various influences into perfect combination, and hadgrown so passionately fond of the fierce excitement of conspiring, thatlove was to her now merely a means and political victory the end. Shedevoted literally her entire existence to it, living in the confidenceand intimacy of the Vendômes and other noble perturbators of the hour. Her activity, her penetration, her energy obtained for her among theparty of the _Importants_ the importance she coveted. It was not long, therefore, ere she begun to give Mazarin cause for grave anxiety. Duringthe encounters resulting from this strenuous antagonism, reconciliationsoccasionally took place, in which even the Cardinal's coldness, caution, and his laborious occupation, could not, it is said, place himbeyond reach of the Duchess's irresistible fascinations. But the latter, well aware that the _rôle_ of Mazarin's mistress would not give to hergrasp the helm of the State, which he reserved exclusively to himself, preferred, therefore, rather to remain his enemy, and figure at the headand front of the faction antagonistic to his government. 

This flirting and skirmishing had gone on for some time, but at lastnatural feeling prevailed over political reticence. Madame de Chevreusegrew impatient at obtaining words only, and scarcely anything serious oreffective. She had, it is true, received some money for her own use, either in repayment of that which she had formerly lent the Queen, orfor the discharge of debts contracted during exile and in the interestof Anne of Austria. On returning to Court, one of her earliest steps wasto withdraw her friend and _protégé_, Alexandre de Campion, from theservice of the Vendômes, and place him in a suitable position in theQueen's household. Châteauneuf had been reinstated in his former post ofChancellor (_des Ordres du Roi_), and later his governorship of Tourainewas restored to him on the death of the Marquis de Gèvres, who fell atthe siege of Thionville; but the Duchess considered that that was doingvery little for a man of Châteauneuf's merit--for him who had stakedfortune and life, and undergone ten years' imprisonment. She readilyperceived, therefore, that the perpetual delay of favours ever promised, ever deferred in the instances of the Vendômes and La Rochefoucauld, were so many artifices of the Cardinal, and that she was his dupe. Thisconviction put the spirited partisan upon her mettle. She began totitter, to mock, and to expostulate by turns, and sometimes twitted theminister in pert and derisive terms. This, however, betrayed a want ofher ordinary precaution, and only served to fill Mazarin's quiver withshafts to be used against herself. He made the Queen believe that Madamede Chevreuse sought to rule her with a rod of iron; that she had changedher mask, but not her character; that she was ever the same impulsiveand restless person, who, with all her talent and devotedness, had neverworked aught but mischief around her, and was only instrumental inruining others as well as herself. By degrees, underhand and hidden asit might be, war between the Duchess and the Cardinal declared itselfunmistakably. The commencement and progress of this curious struggle forsupremacy has been admirably depicted by La Rochefoucauld; and, whilethe autograph memoranda of Mazarin cast a fresh flood of light upon it, they enhance infinitely Madame de Chevreuse's ability by revealing towhat an extent that Minister dreaded her. 

In every page of these invaluable _carnets_ he indicates her as beingthe head and mainspring of the _Importants_. "It is Madame deChevreuse, " he writes repeatedly, "who stirs them all up. She endeavoursto strengthen the hands of the Vendômes; she tries to win over everymember of the house of Lorraine; she has already gained the Duke deGuise, and through him she strives to carry away from me the Duked'Elbeuf. " "She sees clearly through everything; she has guessed veryaccurately that it is I who have secretly persuaded the Queen to hinderthe restoration of the government of Brittany to the Duke de Vendôme. She has said so to her father, the Duke de Montbazon, and to Montagu. She has quarrelled with Montagu, in fact, because he raises an obstacleto Châteauneuf by supporting Séguier. " "Nothing discourages Madame deChevreuse; she entreats the Vendômes to have patience, and sustains themby promising a speedy change of scene. " "Madame de Chevreuse neverrelinquishes the hope of displacing me. The reason she gives for thisis, that when the Queen refused to put Châteauneuf at the head of thegovernment, she stated that she could not do it immediately, as she musthave some consideration for me, whence Madame de Chevreuse concludesthat the Queen has much esteem and liking for Châteauneuf, and that whenI shall be no longer where I am, the post is secured for her friend. Hence the hopes and illusions with which they are buoyed up. " "TheDuchess and her friends assert that the Queen will shortly send forChâteauneuf; and by so doing they abuse the minds of all, and promptthose who are looking to their future interests to pay court to her andseek her friendship. They make an excuse for the Queen's delay in givinghim my place, by saying that she has still need of me for some shorttime. " "I am told that Madame de Chevreuse secretly directs Madame deVendôme (a pious person who has great influence over the bishops andconvents), and gives her instructions, in order that she may not fallinto error, and that all the machinery used against me may thoroughlyanswer its purpose. " From this last entry it is clear that Madame deChevreuse, without being in the smallest degree possible a _dévote_, knew right well how to make use of the _parti dévot_, which thenexercised great influence over Anne of Austria's mind, and gave seriousuneasiness to Mazarin. 

The Prime Minister's chief difficulty was to make Queen Anne--the sisterof the King of Spain, and herself of a piety thoroughlySpanish--understand that it was necessary, notwithstanding theengagements which she had so often contracted, notwithstanding theinstances of the Court of Rome and those of the heads of the episcopate, to continue the alliance with the Protestants of Germany and Holland, and to persist in only consenting to a _general_ peace in which theallies of France should equally find their account as well as thatcountry itself. On the other side, it was continually dinned into theQueen's ear that it was practicable to make a separate treaty of peace, and negotiate singly with Spain on very fitting conditions, that by suchmeans the scandal of an impious war between "the very Christian" and"the very Catholic" King would cease, and a relief be afforded to Francevery much needed. Such was the policy of the Queen's old friends. It wasat least specious, and reckoned numerous partisans among men the mostintelligent and attached to the interests of their country. Mazarin, thedisciple and successor of Richelieu, had higher views, but which it wasnot easy at first to make Anne of Austria comprehend. By degrees, however, he succeeded, thanks to his judicious efforts, renewedincessantly and with infinite art; thanks especially to the victories ofthe Duke d'Enghien--for in all worldly affairs success is a veryeloquent and right persuasive advocate. The Queen, however, remained fora considerable interval undecided, and it may be seen by Mazarin's ownmemoranda that during the latter part of May, as well as through thewhole of June and July, the Cardinal's greatest effort was to induce theRegent not to abandon her allies, but to firmly carry on the war. Madamede Chevreuse, with Châteauneuf, defended the old party policy, andstrove to bring over Anne of Austria to it. "Madame de Chevreuse, " wroteMazarin, "causes the Queen to be told from all quarters that I do notwish for peace, that I hold the same maxims as Cardinal Richelieu on thepoint--that it is both easy and necessary to make a separate treaty ofpeace. " On several occasions he made indignant protestation against sucharrangement, pointing out the danger with which it was fraught, and thatit would render ineffectual those sacrifices which France had for somany years made. "Madame de Chevreuse, " he exclaimed, "would ruinFrance!" He knew well that, intimately associated with Gaston, her oldaccomplice in all the plots framed against Richelieu, she had won himover to the idea of a separate peace by holding out the hope of amarriage between his daughter Mademoiselle de Montpensier and theArch-duke, which would have brought him the government of the LowCountries. He knew that she had preserved all her influence with theDuke de Lorraine; he knew, in fine, that she boasted of having the powerof promptly negotiating a peace through the mediation of the Queen ofSpain, who was at her disposal. Thus informed, he entreated his royalmistress to reject all Madame de Chevreuse's propositions, and to tellher plainly that she would not listen to anything relating to a separatetreaty, that she was decided upon not separating herself from herallies, that she desired a general peace, that with such view she hadsent her ministers to Munster, who were then negotiating that importantmatter, and that it was superfluous to speak to her any more upon thesubject. 

Though baffled on these different points, Madame de Chevreuse did notconsider herself vanquished. She rallied and emboldened her adherents byher lofty spirit and firm resolution. The party feud went on--intrigueswere multiplied--but up to the close of August, 1643, no change hadtaken place, though the acrimony of party feeling had become largelyincreased. Finding that she had fruitlessly employed insinuation, flattery, artifice, and every species of Court manoeuvre, her daringmind did not shrink from the idea of having recourse to other means ofsuccess. She kept up a brisk agitation amongst the bishops and devotees, she continued to weave her political plots with the chiefs of the_Importants_, and at the same time she formed a closer intimacy withthat small cabal which formed in some sort the advance-guard of thatparty, composed of men reared amongst the old conspiracies, accustomedto and always ready for _coups de main_, who had of old embarked in morethan one desperate enterprise against Richelieu, and who, in anextremity, might be likewise launched against Mazarin. The memoirs ofthe time, and especially those of De Retz and La Rochefoucauld, make ussufficiently well acquainted with their names and characters. The formermistress of Chalais found little difficulty in acquiring sole sway overa faction composed of second-rate talents. She caressed it skilfully;and, with the art of an experienced conspirator, she fomented every germof false honour, of quintessential devotedness, and extravagantrashness. Mazarin, who, like Richelieu, had an admirable police, forewarned of Madame de Chevreuse's machinations, fully comprehended thedanger with which he was menaced. No one could have been better informedas to his exact position than the Cardinal: and the plans of the Duchessand the chiefs of the _Importants_ developed themselves clearly underMazarin's sharp-sightedness--either by their incessant andelaborately-concerted intrigues with the Queen, to force her to abandona minister to whose policy she had not yet openly declared her adhesion, or, should it prove necessary, treat that minister as De Luynes had donethe last Queen-mother's favourite d'Ancre, and as Montrésor, Barrière, and Saint-Ybar would have served Richelieu. The first plan not havingsucceeded, they began to think seriously about carrying out the second, and Madame de Chevreuse, the strongest mind of the party, proposed withsome show of reason to act before the return of the young hero ofRocroy, the Duke d'Enghien; for that victorious soldier once in Pariswould unquestionably shield Mazarin. It became necessary, therefore, toprofit by his absence in order to strike a decisive blow. Success seemedcertain, and even easy. They were sure of having the people with them, who, exhausted by a long war and groaning under taxation, wouldnaturally welcome with delight the hope of peace and repose. They mightreckon on the declared support of the parliament, burning to recoverthat importance in the State of which it had been deprived by Richelieu, and which was then a matter of dispute with Mazarin. They had all thesecret, even overt sympathy of the episcopate, which, with Rome, detested the Protestant alliance, and demanded the restoration of thatof Spain. The eager concurrence of the aristocracy could not be doubtedfor a moment; which ever regretted its old and turbulent independence, and whose most illustrious representatives, the Vendômes, the Guises, the Bouillons, and the La Rochefoucaulds were strenously opposed to thedomination of a foreign favourite, without fortune, of no birth, and asyet without fame. The princes of the blood resigned themselves toMazarin rather than to liking him. The Duke d'Orleans was not remarkablefor great fidelity to his friends, and the politic Prince de Condélooked twice ere he quarrelled with the successful. He coaxed allparties, whilst he clung to his own interests. His son, doubtless, wouldfollow in his father's footsteps, and he would be won over by beingoverwhelmed with honours. The day following that on which the blowshould be struck there would be no resistance to their ascendancy, andon the very day itself scarcely any obstacle. The Italian regiments ofMazarin were with the army; there were scarcely any other troops inParis save the regiments of the guards, the colonels of which werenearly all devoted to the _Importants_. The Queen herself had not yetrenounced her former friendships. Her prudent reserve even was wronglyinterpreted. As it was her desire to appease and deal gently on allhands, she gave kind words to everybody, and those kind words were takenas tacit encouragement. Anne had not hitherto shown much firmness ofcharacter; a certain amount of liking for the Cardinal was not unjustlyimputed to her, and undue significance already attributed to thesteadily increasing attachment of a few short months. 

Mazarin, on his own part, indulged in no illusions. He was decidedly notyet master of Anne of Austria's heart; since at that moment--that is tosay, during the month of July, 1643--in his most secret notes hedisplays a deep inquietude and despondency. The dissimulation of whicheverybody accused the Queen obviously terrified him, and we see himpassing through all the alternations of hope and fear. It is verycurious to trace and follow out the varied fluctuations of his mind. Inhis official letters to ambassadors and generals he affects a securitywhich he does not feel. With his own intimate friends he permits somehint of his perplexities to escape him, but in his private memorandathey are all laid bare. We therein read his inmost carks and cares, andhis passionate entreaties that the Queen-Regent would open her mind tohim. He feigns the utmost disinterestedness towards her; he simply asksto make way for Châteauneuf, if she has any secret preference for thatminister. The ambiguous conduct of the Regent harasses and distresseshim, and he conjures her either to permit him to retire or to declareherself in favour of his policy. 

This exciting contest continued with the keenest activity, but no changehad occurred up to the end of July, and even the first days of August, 1643, though this critical state of affairs had become greatlyaggravated. The violence of the _Importants_ increased daily; the Queendefended her minister, but she also showed consideration for hisenemies. She hesitated to take the decided attitude which Mazarinrequired at her hands, not only in his individual interest, but in thatof his government. Suddenly an incident, very insignificant apparently, but which by assuming larger proportions brought about the inevitablecrisis--forced the Queen to declare herself, and Madame de Chevreuse toplunge deeper into a baleful enterprise, the idea of which had alreadyforced itself upon her imagination. A great scandal occurred. We alludeto a quarrel between the two duchesses, de Longueville and deMontbazon. 

CHAPTER II. 

 THE DUCHESS DE MONTBAZON. --THE AFFAIR OF THE DROPPED LETTERS. --THE QUARREL OF THE TWO DUCHESSES. 

ON declaring itself of the party of Mazarin, the house of Condé haddrawn down the hatred of the _Importants_, though their hostilityscarcely fell upon Madame de Longueville. Her gentleness in everythingin which her heart was not seriously engaged, her entire indifference topolitics at this period of her life, with the graces of her mind andperson, rendered her pleasing to every one, and shielded her from partyspite. But apart from affairs of State, she had an enemy, and aformidable enemy, in the Duchess de Montbazon. We have said that Madamede Montbazon had been the mistress of the Duke de Longueville, and asone of the principal personages of the drama we are about to relate, sherequires to be somewhat better known. 

We shall pass over in silence many of her foibles, without attempting toexcuse any. Before sketching her life, or at least a portion of it, itwill be necessary, in order to protect her memory against an excess ofseverity, to recall certain traditions and examples for which unhappilyher family was notorious. 

Daughter of Claude de Bretagne, Baron d'Avangour, she was on hermother's side granddaughter of that very complaisant Marquis de LaVarenne Fouquet, who, successively scullion, cook, and maître d'hôtel ofHenry the Fourth, "gained more by carrying the amorous King's _poulets_than basting those in his kitchen. " Catherine Fouquet, Countess deVertus, his daughter, Madame de Montbazon's mother, was beautiful, witty, somewhat giddy, and very gallant. Impatient of all hindrance, shehad authorised one of her lovers to assassinate her husband; but it wasthe husband who assassinated the lover. The tragical termination of thisrencontre does not seem to have cast a gloom over the life of theCountess de Vertus, for at seventy she began to learn to dance, and whenseventy-three, married a young man over head and ears in debt. 

In 1628, Marie d'Avangour quitted her convent to espouse Hercule deRohan, Duke de Montbazon, who was the father, by his first marriage, ofMadame de Chevreuse and of the Prince de Guéméné. She was sixteen, andhe sixty-one. Thorough fool as he was, the Duke did not conceal fromhimself, it is said, the conviction that such an union was fraught withsome danger to him; but we may venture to affirm that he could not haveforeseen all its dangers. Full of respect for the virtues of Marie de'Medicis, he recommended her example to his wife; then, with everyconfidence in the future, he conducted her to Court. 

In beauty the daughter was worthy of the mother, but in vices she lefther far behind. Tallemant says she was one of the loveliest womenimaginable. Her mind was not her most brilliant side, and the littlethat she had was turned to intrigue and perfidy. "Her mind, " says theindulgent Madame de Motteville, "was not so fine as her person; herbrilliancy was limited to her eyes, which commanded love. She claimeduniversal admiration. " In regard to her character, all are unanimous. DeRetz, who knew her well, speaks of her in these terms: "Madame deMontbazon was a very great beauty. Modesty was wanting in her air. Herjargon might, during a dull hour, have supplied the defects of her mind. She showed but little faith in gallantry, none in business. She lovedher own pleasure alone, and above her pleasure her interest. I never sawa person who, in vice, preserved so little respect for virtue. "Supremely vain and passionately fond of money, it was by the aid of herbeauty that she sought influence and fortune. She, therefore, tookinfinite care of it, as of her idol, as of her resources, her treasure. She kept it in repair, heightened it by all sorts of artifices, andpreserved it almost uninjured till her death. Madame de Mottevilleasserts that, during the latter part of her life, she was as full ofvanity as if she were but twenty-five years of age; that she had thesame desire to please, and that she wore her mourning garb in socharming a manner, that "the order of nature seemed changed, since ageand beauty could be found united. " Ten years before, in 1647, at the ageof thirty-five, when Mazarin gave a comedy in the Italian style, thatis, an opera, there was in the evening a grand ball, and the Duchess deMontbazon was present, adorned with pearls, with a red feather on herhead, and so dazzling in her appearance that the whole company wascompletely charmed. We can imagine what she was in 1643, at the age ofthirty-one. 

Of the two conditions of perfect beauty--strength and grace, Madamede Montbazon possessed the first in the highest degree. She was talland majestic, and she had all the charms of embonpoint. Her throatreminded one of the fulness, in this particular, of the antiquestatues--exceeding them, perhaps, somewhat. What struck the beholdermost were her eyes and hair of intense blackness, upon a skin of themost dazzling white. Her defect was a nose somewhat too prominent, witha mouth so large as to give her face an appearance of severity. It willbe seen that she was the very opposite of Madame de Longueville. Thelatter was tall, but not to excess. The richness of her form did notdiminish its delicacy. A moderate embonpoint exhibited, in full andexquisite measure, the beauty of the female form. Her eyes were of thesoftest blue; her hair of the most beautiful blonde. She had the mostmajestic air, and yet her peculiar characteristic was grace. To thesewere added the great difference of manners and tone. Madame deLongueville was, in her deportment, dignity, politeness, modesty, sweetness itself, with a languor and nonchalance which formed not herleast charm. Her words were few, as well as her gestures; the inflexionsof her voice were a perfect music. [1] The excess, into which she neverfell, might have been a sort of fastidiousness. Everything in her waswit, sentiment, charm. Madame de Montbazon, on the contrary, was free ofspeech, bold and easy in her tone, full of stateliness and pride. 

 [1] Villefore, p. 32. 

The Duchess was, nevertheless, a very attractive creature when shedesired to be so, and such we must conceive her to have been if we wouldtake account of the admiration she excited, and not exactly like theperson which Cousin represents her when, at the age of nearly forty, shehad become "a Colossus"--to use Tallemant's phrase. At the same time itis true that, even in youth, she had less grace than strength, lessdelicacy than majesty. It is also true that she was free of speech, andin tone was bold and offhand; but those very defects for which she wasremarkable only the better assured her empire over what, in modernparlance, would be termed the "fast" portion of the Court, and thesentiments to which she gave utterance revealed the most singularextravagance. But not a single voice protested when the Duked'Hocquincourt proclaimed her _la belle des belles_. In the eyes of theforeigner she was the marvel which the generals who dreamed of thecapture of Paris coveted; in other words, she was _par excellence_ "thebooty" most desirable, on the subject of which the Duke of Weimarperpetrated a thoroughly German joke, which we must be pardoned for notrepeating: Anne of Austria might have smiled at it without blushing, butit is too gross to risk raising a laugh by its repetition in our days. 

She had a great number of adorers, and of happy adorers, from GastonDuke of Orleans, and the Count de Soissons, slain at Marfée, to Rancé, the young and gallant editor of Anacreon, and the future founder of LaTrappe. M. De Longueville had been for some time her lover by title, andhe afforded her considerable advantages. When he married Mademoiselle deBourbon, Madame the Princess exacted--without, however, being veryfaithfully obeyed--the discontinuance of all intercourse with his oldmistress. Hence, in that interested soul, an irritation, which woundedvanity redoubled, when she saw this young bride, with her great name, her marvellous mind, her indefinable charms, advance into the world ofgallantry, without the least effort draw after her all hearts, and takepossession of, or at least share that empire of beauty of which she wasso proud, and which was to her so precious. On the other hand, the Dukede Beaufort had not been able to restrain a passionate admiration forMadame de Longueville, which had been very coldly received. He waswounded by it, and his wound bled for a long time, as his friend, LaChâtre, informs us, [2] even after he had transferred his homage toMadame de Montbazon. The latter, as may be easily imagined, was againexasperated. Finally, the Duke de Guise, recently arrived in Paris, placed himself in the party of the _Importants_ and at the service ofMadame de Montbazon, who received him very favourably, at the same timeshe was striving to keep or recall the Duke de Longueville, and that shewas ruling Beaufort, whose office near her was somewhat that of a_cavalier servente_. Thus it will be seen that Madame de Montbazondisposed through Beaufort and through Guise, as through herdaughter-in-law Madame de Chevreuse, of the house of Vendôme and that ofLorraine, and she employed all this influence to the profit of herhatred against Madame de Longueville. She burned to injure her, and wasnot long in finding an opportunity of doing it. 

 [2] Mémoires of La Châtre. Petitot Collection, vol. Li. P. 230. 

One day when a numerous company was assembled in her salon, one of heryoung lady friends picked up a couple of letters which had been droppedon the floor, bearing no signatures, but in a feminine handwriting, andof a somewhat equivocal style. They were read, and a thousand jokesperpetrated concerning them, and some effort made to discover theauthor. They were from a woman who wrote tenderly to some one whom shedid not hate. Madame de Montbazon pretended that they had fallen fromthe pocket of Maurice de Coligny, who had just gone out, and that theywere in the handwriting of Madame de Longueville. The word of commandthus once given, the Duke de Beaufort was amongst the first to spreadthe insinuation which was a calumny, all the echoes of the party of the_Importants_ took it up, and Madame de Montbazon herself found pleasurein repeating it during several following days, so that the incidentbecame the entertainment of the Court. A frivolous curiosity has veryfaithfully preserved the text of the two letters thus found at theDuchess's house. [3]

 [3] Mémoires of Madlle. De Montpensier, vol. I. Pp. 62, 63. 

I. 

 "I should much more regret the change in your conduct if I thought myself less worthy of a continuation of your affection. I confess to you that so long as I believed it to be true and warm, mine gave you all the advantages which you could desire. Now, hope nothing more from me than the esteem which I owe to your discretion. I have too much pride to share the passion which you have so often sworn to me, and I desire to punish your negligence in seeing me, in no other way than by depriving you entirely of my society. I request that you will visit me no more, since I have no longer the power of commanding your presence. "

II. 

 "To what conclusion have you come after so long a silence? Do you not know that the same pride which rendered me sensible to your past affection forbids me to endure the false appearances of its continuation! You say that my suspicions and my inequalities render you the most unhappy person in the world. I assure you that I believe no such thing, although I cannot deny that you have perfectly loved me, as you must confess that my esteem has worthily recompensed you. So far we have done each other justice, and I am determined not to have in the end less goodness, if your conduct responds to my intentions. You would find them less unreasonable if you had more passion, and the difficulties of seeing me would only augment instead of diminishing it. I suffer for loving too much, and you for not loving enough. If I must believe you, let us exchange humours. I shall find repose in doing my duty, and you in doing yours, and you must fail in doing yours, in order to obtain liberty. I do not perceive that I forget the manner in which I passed the winter with you, and that I speak to you as frankly as I have heretofore done. I hope that you will make as good use of it, and that I shall not regret being overcome in the resolution which I have made to return to it no more. I shall remain at home for three or four days in succession, and will be seen only in the evening: you know the reason. "

These letters were not forgeries. They had been really written byMadame de Fouquerolles to the handsome and elegant Marquis deMaulevrier, who had been silly enough to drop them in Madame deMontbazon's _salon_. Maulevrier, trembling at being discovered, and athaving compromised Madame de Fouquerolles, ran to La Rochefoucauld, whowas his friend, confided to him his secret, and begged him to undertaketo hush up the affair. La Rochefoucauld made Madame de Montbazonunderstand that it was for her interest to be generous on this occasion, for the error or fraud would be easily recognised as soon as the writingshould be compared with that of Madame de Longueville. Madame deMontbazon placed the original letters in the hands of La Rochefoucauld, who showed them to M. The Prince and to Madame the Princess, to Madamede Rambouillet, and to Madame Sablé, particular friends of Madame deLongueville, and, the truth being well established, burned them in thepresence of the Queen, delivering Maulevrier and Madame de Fouquerollesfrom the terrible anxiety into which they had been for some time thrown. 

The house of Condé felt a lively resentment at the insult offered to it. The Duke and Duchess de Longueville desired, it is true, the one by asentiment of interested prudence, the other by a just feeling ofdignity, to take no further notice of the matter. But the Princess, impelled by her high spirit, and still intoxicated by her son's success, exacted a reparation equal to the offence, and declared loudly that, ifthe Queen and the government did not defend the honour of her house, sheand all her family would withdraw from the Court. She was indignant atthe mere idea of placing her daughter in the scales with thegranddaughter of a cook. In vain did the whole party of the_Importants_, with Beaufort and Guise at their head, agitate andthreaten; in vain did Madame de Chevreuse, who had not yet lost all herinfluence with the Queen, strive earnestly in behalf of hermother-in-law. It did not suffice for the resentment of the Princess andthe Duke d'Enghien that Madame de Longueville's innocence was fullyrecognised; they demanded a public reparation. Madame de Motteville hasleft us an amusing recital of the "mummeries, " as she terms them, ofwhich she was a witness. 

The Queen was in her state cabinet and the Princess beside her, in greatemotion and looking very fierce, declaring the affair to be nothing lessthan the crime of high treason. Madame de Chevreuse, interested for athousand reasons in the quarrel of her mother-in-law, was busy withCardinal Mazarin arranging the composition of the apology to be made. Atevery word there was a _pour-parler_ of half an hour. The Cardinal wentfrom one side to the other to accommodate the difference, as if such apeace was necessary for the welfare of France, and his own inparticular. It was arranged that the criminal should present herself atthe Princess's hotel on the morrow. 

The apology was written upon a small piece of paper and attached to herfan, in order that she might repeat it word for word to the Princess. She did it in the most haughty manner possible, assuming an air whichseemed to say, "I jest in every word I utter. "

Mademoiselle de Montpensier gives us the two speeches made upon theoccasion. "Madame, I come here to protest to you that I am innocent ofthe wickedness of which I have been accused: no person of honour couldutter a calumny such as this. If I had committed a like fault, I shouldhave submitted to any punishment which it might have pleased the Queento inflict upon me; I should never have shown myself again in theworld, and would have asked your pardon. I beg you to believe that Ishall never fail in the respect which I owe to you and in the opinionwhich I have of the virtue and of the merit of Madame deLongueville. "[4] That lady was not present at the ceremony, and hermother, to whom the Duchess addressed herself, made a very short and dryreply. This reconciliation did not deceive any one of those present; itwas, in fact, only a fresh declaration of war. 

 [4] Mémoires, vol. I. P. 65. 

Besides the satisfaction which she had just obtained, the Princess hadasked and had been permitted the privilege of never associating with theDuchess de Montbazon. Some time after, Madame de Chevreuse invited theQueen to a collation in the public garden of Renard. This was then therendezvous of the best society. It was at the termination of theTuileries, near the Porte de la Conférence, which abutted on the _Coursde la Reine_. In the summer, on returning from the _Cours_, which wasthe "Rotten Row" of the day, and the spot where the beauties of the timeexercised their powers, it was customary to stop at the garden Renardfor the purpose of taking refreshments, and to listen to serenadesperformed after the Spanish fashion. The Queen took pleasure in visitingthis place during fine summer evenings. She desired Madame the Princessto partake with her the collation offered by Madame de Chevreuse, assuring her at the same time that Madame de Montbazon would not bepresent; but the latter person was really there, and even pretended todo the honours of the collation as mother-in-law of the lady who gaveit. The Princess wished to withdraw, in order that the entertainmentmight not be disturbed: the Queen had no right whatever to detain her. She, therefore, begged Madame de Montbazon to pretend sickness, and byleaving the party, to relieve her from embarrassment. The haughtyDuchess would not consent to fly before her enemy, and kept her place. The Queen, offended, refused the collation and quitted the promenade. Onthe morrow an order from the King enjoined upon Madame de Montbazon toleave Paris. This disgrace irritated the _Importants_. They thoughtthemselves humiliated and enfeebled, and there were no violent orextreme measures which they did not contemplate. The Duke de Beaufort, smitten at once in his influence and his love, uttered louddenunciations, and it was reported that a plot had been formed againstthe life of Mazarin. 

CHAPTER III. 

 THE IMPORTANTS. 

IT is necessary, at this juncture, to have a just idea of the generalposition of political affairs in France, as well as of the attitude ofthe faction known as the _Importants_, who were then most active inopposing the government of Mazarin, in order to understand clearly thegravity of an incident which otherwise in itself might seem to be oflittle consequence. 

La Rochefoucauld, the historian of that party, has made us tolerablyfamiliar with the men who composed it. They were a band of eccentric andmischievous spirits, bold of heart, ready of hand, and of boundlessfidelity to one another. Professing to hold the most outrageous maxims, incessantly invoking Brutus and old Rome, and intermingling gallant withpolitical intrigues, they suffered themselves to be hurried beyond thebounds of reason through a Quixotic idea of always pleasing the ladies. They had all been more or less fellow-sufferers with Anne of Austriaduring the period of her affliction and persecution by Richelieu, andfrom the commencement of her Regency, these returning exiles andliberated prisoners had been gathering round her until at last, formedinto a faction, they gave themselves out as the Queen's party, and byadopting a high-flown, turgid, and mysterious style of phraseology, andassuming bombastic and braggart airs of authority, coupled with anaffectation of capacity and profundity, obtained for themselves from thewits of the Court and city the nickname of _The Importants_, under whichthey figured until absorbed a few years later in the more general andpopular designation of _Frondeurs_. Their favourite chief was the Dukede Beaufort, of whom we have already spoken as possessing very nearlythe same characteristics as the rest--at once artificial andextravagant, with great pretensions to loyalty and patriotism, professing to be a man of independent action, but in fact wholly ruledby Madame de Montbazon, who, in her turn, was swayed by the Duchess deChevreuse. 

On the sudden disappearance from Paris of one of the most distinguishedof the lady leaders of the _Importants_--like a star of the firstmagnitude fallen from their system--the entire party was thrown intocommotion, whilst the more intimate friends and admirers of the banishedbeauty raised a fierce outcry. Such an open disgrace of the young andbeautiful Duchess sorely irritated her restless partisans. Theyconsidered themselves humiliated and weakened by it, and there was noviolence or extremity to which they were not prepared to resort. Herslave and adorer, the Duke de Beaufort, assailed at once on the score ofhis political interest and personal gallantry, vapoured and stormedfuriously. Thoughts of vengeance, which, like the mutterings of anapproaching tempest, had begun to brood beneath the roof of the Hôtel deVendôme, now became concentrated in a plot to get rid of Mazarin by fairmeans or foul, divers modes of its execution being earnestly discussed. 

In such conjunctures, the Cardinal rose to the level of Richelieu. Atthe same time he had to secure safety and success mainly through his owncourage and patience. But he knew right well how to play his part. Thewily minister already stood well with the Queen--had begun to seemnecessary, or at least very useful to her, though Anne of Austria hadnot yet formally declared her approval of his policy. Mazarinrepresented to her what she owed alike to the State and the royalauthority now seriously threatened. That she must prefer the interest ofher son and his crown to friendships--satisfactory enough at othertimes, but which had now become dangerous. He brought before her eyesmost indubitable proofs of a conspiracy to take his life, and entreatedher to choose between his enemies and himself. Anne of Austria did nothesitate, and the ruin of the _Importants_ was decided upon. 

More dangerous ground could scarcely have been found whereon to post the_Importants_. The Duchess de Montbazon, as disreputable in morals andcharacter as she was remarkable for her beauty, had attacked a youngwife, who, having just made her appearance at the Regent's court, hadalready become the object of universal admiration. To a loveliness atonce so graceful and dazzling that it was pronounced to be angelic, Madame de Longueville added great intelligence, a most noble heart, andwas a person of all others whom it behoved the _Importants_ toconciliate; for her natural generosity of character had disinclined herto side with the party of repression, and thereby had even given someumbrage to the Prime Minister. At that moment, she was merely occupiedwith intellectual pursuits, innocent gallantry, and above all with thefame of her brother, the Duke d'Enghien; but there were, it must beowned, already perceptible in her mind, some germs of an _Important_, which, later, Rochefoucauld knew only too well how to develop. But theslanderous attack that had been made upon her, the disgraceful motive ofwhich was sufficiently clear, revolted every honest heart. Theungovernable impetuosity of Beaufort on this occasion was--as itdeserved to be--strongly stigmatised. Having formerly paid his addressesto Mademoiselle de Bourbon, and been rejected, his conduct assumed theaspect of an obvious revenge. Moreover, Madame de Chevreuse's everyeffort being directed towards depriving Mazarin of supporters, sheincited the devotees of either sex who were about the Queen to actagainst him, and Madame de Longueville was no less the idol of theCarmelites and the party of the _Saints_ than that of the Hôtel deRambouillet. Again, the Duke d'Enghien, already covered with the laurelsof Rocroy, and about to entwine therewith those of Thionville, was soevidently the arbiter of the situation, that Madame de Chevreuseinsisted, with much force, that Mazarin should be got rid of whilst theyoung Duke was occupied with the distant enemy, and before he shouldreturn from the army. To wound him through so susceptible a medium asthat of an adored sister, to turn him against herself without anynecessity, and hasten his return, would be a silly extravagance. Therefore, all who had any sense among the _Importants_--LaRochefoucauld, La Châtre, and Campion--anxiously sought to hush up andterminate this deplorable affair; and Madame de Chevreuse, sedulous topay court to the Queen at the same time that she was weaving a subtleplot against her minister, had prepared the little fête for her atRenard's garden with the design of dispersing the last remainingcloudlets of the lately-spent tempest. But the Duchess's politic purposewas, as we have seen, destined to fail through the insane pride of awoman who was as senseless as she was heartless. [1]

 [1] Alexandre de Campion, in the _Recueil_ before cited, writes to Madame de Montbazon:--"Si mon avis eut été suivi chez Renard, vous seriez sortie, pour obéir à la Reine, vous n'habiteriez pas la maison de Rochefort, et nous ne serions pas dans le péril dont nous sommes menacés. "

Under these critical circumstances how did it behove Madame de Chevreuseto act? She was compelled to restrain Madame de Montbazon, but she couldneither abandon her nor be false to herself. She resolved therefore tofollow up energetically the formidable project which had become the lasthope and supreme resource of her party. Through Madame de Montbazon, Beaufort had been dragged into it. The latter had mustered the men ofaction already mentioned, and who were wholly devoted to him. A plot hadbeen devised and every measure concerted for surprising and perhapskilling the Cardinal. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 THE CONSPIRACY OF THE DUCHESS DE CHEVREUSE AND THE DUKE DE BEAUFORT TO GET RID OF MAZARIN. 

ONE need not be greatly astonished at such an enterprise on the part oftwo women of high rank and a grandson of Henry the Great. At thatstirring epoch of French history--the interval between the League andthe Fronde--energy and strength were the distinctive traits of theFrench aristocracy. Neither court life nor a corrupting opulence had yetenervated it. Everything was then in extremes, in vice as in virtue. Menattacked and defended one another with the same weapons. The Marshald'Ancre had been massacred; more than one attempt had been made toassassinate Richelieu; whilst he, on his side, had not been backward inhaving recourse to the sword and block. Corneille paints faithfully thespirit of the epoch. His Emilie is also involved in an assassination, and she is not the less represented as a perfect heroine. Madame deChevreuse had long been accustomed to conspiracies; she was bold andunscrupulous. She did not gather round her such men as Beaupuis, Saint-Ybar, De Varicarville, and de Campion merely to pass the time inidle conversation. She had not remained a stranger to the designs theyhad formerly concocted against Richelieu, for in 1643 she fomented, aswe have seen, their exaltation and their devotedness; and it was notunreasonable, certainly, that Mazarin should attribute to her the firstidea of the project which Beaufort was to accomplish. 

At the same time it must be remembered that the _Importants_ and theirsuccessors the _Frondeurs_ denied this project and declared it theinvention of the Cardinal. It is a point of the highest historicalimportance and deserves serious examination, as upon this conspiracy, real or imaginary, as may be determined after careful investigation, rests the fact whether Mazarin owed in reality all his career and thegreat future which then opened before him to a falsehood cunninglyinvented and audaciously sustained; or whether Madame de Chevreuse andthe _Importants_, after having tried their utmost against him, nowresolving to destroy him with the armed hand, were themselves destroyedand became the instruments of his triumph. The evidence availableirresistibly leads to the latter conclusion, and we think that we shallbe able to show that the plot attributed to the _Importants_, far frombeing a chimæra, was the almost inevitable solution of the violentcrisis just described. 

La Rochefoucauld, without having indulged in the insane hopes of hisfriends and lent his hand to their rash enterprise, made it a point ofhonour to defend them after their discomfiture, and set himself to coverthe retreat. He affects to doubt whether the plot which then made somuch noise was real or supposititious. In his eyes, the greaterprobability was that the Duke de Beaufort, by a false _finesse_, endeavoured to excite alarm in the Cardinal, believing that it wassufficient to strike terror into his mind to force him to quit France, and that it was with this view that he held secret meetings and gavethem the appearance of conspiracy. La Rochefoucauld constitutes himselfespecially the champion of Madame de Chevreuse's innocence, anddeclares himself thoroughly persuaded that she was ignorant ofBeaufort's designs. 

After the historian of the _Importants_, that of the _Frondeurs_ holdsvery nearly the same arguments. Like La Rochefoucauld, De Retz has onlyone object in his Memoirs--that of investing himself with a semblance ofcapacity and making a great figure in every way, in evil as well asgood. He is often more truthful, because he cares less about otherpeople, and that he is disposed to sacrifice all the world excepthimself. In this matter it is hard to conceive the motive for hisreserve and incredulity. He knew right well that the majority of thepersons accused of having taken part in the plot had already beenimplicated in more than one such business. He himself tells us that hehad conspired with the Count de Soissons, that he had blamed him for nothaving struck down Richelieu at Amiens, and that with La Rochepot, he, the Abbé de Retz, had formed the design of assassinating him at theTuileries during the ceremony of the baptism of Mademoiselle (deMontpensier). The Co-adjutorship of the Archbishopric of Paris, whichthe Regent had just granted him, in consideration of his own servicesand the virtues of his father, had mollified him, it is true; but hisold accomplices, who had not been so well treated as he, had remainedfaithful to their cause, to their designs, to their habitudes. Was DeRetz then sincere when he refused to believe that they had attemptedagainst Mazarin that which he had seen them undertake, and which he hadhimself undertaken against Richelieu? In his blind hatred he throwseverything upon Mazarin: he pretends that he was terrified, or that hefeigned terror. It was the Abbé de la Rivière, he tells us, who, inorder to rid himself of the rivalry of the Count de Montrésor in theDuke d'Orleans' favour, must have persuaded Mazarin that there was aplot set on foot against him, in which Montrésor was mixed up. It wasthe Prince de Condé also who must have tried to destroy Beaufort throughfear lest his son, the Duke d'Enghien, might engage with him in someduel, as he wished to do, to avenge his sister, during the short visithe made to Paris after taking Thionville. 

To the suspicious opinions of de Retz and La Rochefoucauld let us opposetestimony more disinterested, and before all other the silence ofMontrésor, [1] who, whilst protesting that neither he nor his friend theCount de Béthune had meddled with the conspiracy imputed to the Duke deBeaufort, says not a single word against the reality of that conspiracy, which he would not have failed to ridicule had he believed it imaginary. Madame de Motteville, who was not in the habit of overwhelming theunfortunate, after having reported with impartiality the differentrumours circulated at Court, relates certain facts which appear to herauthentic, and which are decisive. [2] One of the best informed and mosttruthful of contemporary historians expresses not the slightest doubt onthis head. "The _Importants_, " says Monglat, "seeing that they could notdrive the Cardinal out of France, resolved to despatch him with theirdaggers, and held several councils on this subject at the Hôtel deVendôme. " That opinion is confirmed by new and numerous particulars withwhich Mazarin's _carnets_ and confidential letters furnish us. 

 [1] Mémoires, Petitot Collection, t. Lix. 

 [2] Mémoires, t. I. , p. 184. 

The person whom Mazarin signalizes in his _carnets_ and letters as thetrusted friend of Beaufort and after him the principal accused, theCount de Beaupuis, son of the Count de Maillé, had found means ofsheltering himself from the minister's first searches; he had succeededin escaping from France and sought an asylum at Rome under the avowedprotection of Spain. Mazarin left no stone unturned to obtain from theCourt of Rome the extradition of Beaupuis, in order that he might belegally tried. The Pope at first could not refuse, at least for form'ssake, to have Beaupuis committed to the Castle of St. Angelo. But he wassoon liberated, and provided with a State lodging wherein he was allowedto see nearly every one who came. Mazarin complained loudly of suchindulgence. "It is all arranged, " said he, "that when necessary he mayescape, or at any rate the Duke de Vendôme is furnished with everyfacility for poisoning him, in order that with Beaupuis may perish theprincipal proof of his son's treason. If all this happened in Barbary, people would be highly indignant. And this is suffered to take place inRome, in the capital of Christianity, under the eyes and by the ordersof a Pope!"

Failing Beaupuis, Mazarin would have liked to put his hand upon one ofthe brothers Campion, intimately connected as they were with Beaufortand Madame de Chevreuse, and too closely in the confidence of both notto know all their secrets. He himself complains, as we have seen, ofbeing very badly seconded. And then he had to do with emeritedconspirators, consummate in the art of concealing themselves and ofleaving no trace of their whereabouts--with the active and indefatigableDuchess de Chevreuse, and with the Duke de Vendôme, who, in order tosave his son, set about forwarding the escape of all those whosedepositions might help to convict him, or kept them somehow in his ownhands, hidden and shut up close at Anet. Mazarin was thus only able toarrest a few obscure individuals who were ignorant of the plot, andcould throw no light upon it. 

But it is needless to exhaust existing proofs in demonstration of thefact that Mazarin did not enact a farce by instituting proceedingsagainst the conspirators, that he pursued them with sincerity andvigour, and that he was perfectly convinced that a project ofassassination had been formed against him, when the existence of thatproject is elsewhere averred, when, in default of a sentence of theparliament, which could not have been given in the teeth of insufficientevidence, neither Beaupuis, nor the Campions, nor Lié, nor Brillethaving been arrested, better proof being extant in the full and entireconfession of one of the principal conspirators, with the plan and allthe details of the affair set forth in Memoirs of comparatively recentpublication, but the authenticity of which cannot be contested. Weallude to the precious Memoirs of Henri de Campion, [3] brother of Madamede Chevreuse's friend, whom that lady had introduced also to the serviceof the Duke de Vendôme, and more particularly to that of the Duke deBeaufort. Henri had accompanied the Duke in his flight to England afterthe conspiracy of Cinq Mars, and he had returned with him; he possessedhis entire confidence, and he relates nothing in which he himself hadnot taken a considerable part. Henri's character was very different tothat of his brother Alexandre. He was a well-educated man, full ofhonour and courage, not in the least given to boasting, averse to allintrigue, and born to make his way through life by the straightest pathsin the career of arms. He wrote these Memoirs in solitude, to whichafter the loss of his daughter and his wife he had retired to awaitdeath amidst the exercise of a genuine piety. It is not in such a frameof mind that a man is disposed to invent fables, and there is no middleway. What he says is that which we must believe absolutely, or if wehave any doubt that he speaks the truth, he must be considered as theworst of villains. No interested feeling could have directed his pen, for he compiled his Memoirs, or at least he finished them, a short timeafter Mazarin's death, without thought, therefore, of paying court tohim by making very tardy revelations, and scarcely two years before hehimself died in 1663. Thus it may be fairly inferred that Henri deCampion wrote strictly under the inspiration of his conscience. One hasonly to open his Memoirs to see confirmed, point by point, all theparticulars with which Mazarin's _carnets_ are filled. Nothing is therewanting, everything coincides, all marvellously corresponds. It appears, indeed, as though Mazarin in making his notes had had before his eyes deCampion's Memoirs, or that the latter whilst penning them had Mazarin's_carnets_ before him: he at once so thoroughly takes up the thread andcompletes them. 

 [3] "Mémoires de Henri de Campion, &c. , " 1807. Treuttel and Würtz. Paris. 

His brother Alexandre, in his letters of the month of August, 1643, hadalready let slip more than one mysterious sentence. He wrote to Madamede Montbazon in banishment:--"You must not despair, madam, there arestill some half-a-dozen honest folks who do not give up.... Yourillustrious friend will not abandon you. If to be prudent it werenecessary to renounce your acquaintance, there are those who wouldprefer rather to pass for fools all their days. " Like Montrésor, he doesnot once say that there was no plot framed against Mazarin, which is akind of tacit avowal; and when the storm burst, he took care to concealhimself, advised Beaupuis to do the same, and ends with thesesignificant words:--"In embarking in Court affairs one cannot be certainof being master of events, and whilst we profit by the lucky ones, wemust resolve to put up with the unlucky. " Henri de Campion raises thisalready very transparent veil. 

He declares plainly that there was a project on foot to get rid ofMazarin, and that that project was conceived, not by Beaufort, but byMadame de Chevreuse in concert with Madame de Montbazon. "I think, " sayshe, "that the Duke's design did not spring from his own particularsentiment, but from the persuasion of the duchesses de Chevreuse and deMontbazon, who exercised entire sway over his mind and had anirreconcilable hatred to the Cardinal. What makes me say so, is that, whilst he was under that resolution, I always observed that he had aninternal repugnance which, if I mistake not, was overcome by some pledgewhich he may have given to those ladies. " There _was_, therefore, aplot, and its real author, as Mazarin truly said, and Campion repeats, was Madame de Chevreuse; if so, Madame de Montbazon was only aninstrument in her hands. 

Beaufort, once inveigled, drew in also his intimate friend, Count deMaillé's son, the Count de Beaupuis, cornet in the Queen's horse-guards. To them Madame de Chevreuse adjoined Alexandre de Campion, the elderbrother of Henri. "She loved him much, " remarks the latter, and in a waywhich, added to certain ambiguous words of Alexandre, excites suspicionwhether the elder Campion were not in fact one of the numeroussuccessors of Chalais. He was then thirty-three, and his brotherconfesses that he had caught from the Count de Soissons the taste forand the habitudes of faction. Beaupuis and Alexandre de Campionapproved of the plot when communicated to them, "the former, " saysHenri, "believing that it would be a means for him of attaining to aposition of greater importance, and my brother seeing therein Madame deChevreuse's advantage and by consequence his own. "

Such were the two first accomplices of Beaufort. A little later heopened his mind on the subject to Henri de Campion, one of his principalgentlemen; to Lié, captain of his guards; and to Brillet, his equerry. There the secret rested. Many other gentlemen and domestics of the houseof Vendôme were destined to take action in the affair, but were admittedto no confidence. The project was well conceived and worthy of Madame deChevreuse. There were at most five or six conspirators--three capable ofkeeping the secret, and who did keep it. Below them, the men of action, who did not know what they would be called on to do; and in thebackground, the men of the morrow, who might be reckoned upon to applaudthe blow, when it had been struck, without it being judged fitting toadmit them to the conspiracy. At least Henri de Campion does not evenname Montrésor, Béthune, Fontraille, Varicarville, Saint-Ybar, whichexplains wherefore Mazarin, whilst keeping his eye upon them, did nothave them arrested. Neither does Campion speak of Chandenier, La Châtre, de Treville, the Duke de Bouillon, the Duke de Guise, De Retz, nor LaRochefoucauld, whose sentiments were not doubtful, but who were notinclined to go so far as to sully their hands with an assassination. Andthat further explains the silence of Mazarin with regard to them in allthat relates to Beaufort's conspiracy, although he did not cherish theslightest illusion as to their dispositions, and as to the part theywould have taken if the plot had succeeded, or even if a seriousstruggle had taken place. 

The conspiracy rested for some time between Madame de Chevreuse, Madamede Montbazon, Beaufort, Beaupuis, and Alexandre de Campion. The finalresolution was only taken at the end of July or in the first days ofAugust, that is to say, precisely during the height of the quarrelbetween Madame de Montbazon and Madame de Longueville, which ushered inthe crisis and opened the door to all the events which followed. It wasthen only that Beaufort spoke of it to Henri de Campion, in presence ofBeaupuis. Mazarin's crime was the continuation of Richelieu's system. "The Duke de Beaufort told me that he thought I had remarked that theCardinal Mazarin was re-establishing at court and throughout the kingdomthe tyranny of Cardinal de Richelieu, with even more of authority andviolence than had been shown under the government of the latter; thathaving entirely gained the Queen's mind and made all the ministersdevoted to him, it was impossible to arrest his evil designs save bydepriving him of life; that the public weal having made him resolve totake that step, he informed me of it in order that I might aid him withmy advice and personally assist in its execution. Beaupuis next 'took uphis parable, ' and warmly represented the evils which the too greatauthority of Richelieu had caused France, and concluded by saying thatwe must prevent the like inconvenience before his successor had renderedmatters remediless. " Such conclusion embodied as nearly as possible theviews and language of _Importants_ and _Frondeurs_, of La Rochefoucauldand De Retz. Henri de Campion represents himself as having at firstcombatted the Duke's project with so much force that more than once hewas shaken; but the two duchesses wound him up again very quickly, andBeaupuis and Alexandre de Campion, instead of holding him back, encouraged him. Shortly afterwards, Beaufort having declared that he hadmade up his mind, Henri de Campion gave in on two conditions: "The one, "he tells us, "of not laying his hand on the Cardinal, since I wouldrather take my own life than do a deed of such nature. The other, thatif the Duke should arrange that the project should be put into executionduring his absence, I would never mix myself up in it; whereas if hewere himself to be present, I should without scruple keep myself nearhis person, in order to defend him against any mischance that mighthappen, my duty and affection towards him equally obliging me thereto. He granted me those two conditions, testifying at the same time that heesteemed me more for having made them, and added that he would bepresent at the execution of the project, so that he might authorise itby his presence. "

The plan was to attack the Cardinal in the street, whilst paying visitsin his carriage, commonly having with him only a few ecclesiastics, besides five or six lackeys. It would be necessary to present themselvesin force and unexpectedly, stop the vehicle and strike Mazarin. To dothat, it was necessary that a certain number of the Vendôme domestics, who were not in the secret, should post themselves daily, from earlymorning, in the _cabarets_ around the Cardinal's abode, which was thenat the Hôtel de Cleves, near the Louvre. Among the domestics let intothe secret, Henri de Campion names positively Gauseville. Over them wereplaced "the Sieurs d'Avancourt and De Brassy, Picardians, very resolutemen and intimate friends of Lié. " The pretext given out was that theCondés proposing to put an affront upon Madame de Montbazon, the Dukede Beaufort, in order to oppose it, desired to have in hand a troop ofgentlemen well mounted and armed. Their parts were allotted beforehand. A certain number were to pounce upon the Cardinal's coachman, at thesame moment that others were to open the two doors and strike him, whilst the Duke would be at hand on horseback, with Beaupuis, Henri deCampion, and others, to cut down or drive off those who should bedisposed to resist. Alexandre de Campion was to keep near the Duchess deChevreuse and at her orders; and she herself ought more than ever to beassiduous in her attentions to the Queen, in order to smooth the way forher friends, and, in case of success, draw the Regent to the side of thevictorious. 

Several occasions favourable to the execution of this plan presentedthemselves. In the first instance, Henri de Campion being with his bandin the Rue du Champ-Fleuri--one end of which joins the Rue Saint-Honoréand the other approaches the Louvre--saw the Cardinal leave the Hôtel deCleves in his carriage with the Abbé de Bentivoglio, the nephew of thecelebrated cardinal of that name, with a few ecclesiastics and valets. Campion inquired of one of them whither the Cardinal was going, and wasanswered--to visit the Marshal d'Estrées. "I saw, " says Campion, "thatif I had made use of the information, his death would have beeninevitable. But I thought that I should be so guilty in the eyes of Godand man that I resisted the temptation to do so. "

The next day it was known that the Cardinal would be present at acollation to be given by Madame du Vigean at her charming residence ofLa Barre, at the entrance of the valley of Montmorency, where Madame deLongueville was staying, and which the Queen had promised to honourwith a visit, and who had already set out. The Cardinal was repairingthither, having with him in his coach only the Count d'Harcourt. Beaufort ordered Campion to assemble his troop and to ride after him, but Campion represented to the Duke that if they attacked the Cardinalin the company of the Count d'Harcourt, they must decide upon killingboth, Harcourt being too generous to see Mazarin stabbed before his eyeswithout defending him, and that the murder of Harcourt would raiseagainst them the entire house of Lorraine. 

Some days afterwards information was given that the Cardinal was engagedto dine at Maisons, with the Marshal d'Estrées, to meet the Duked'Orleans. "I made the Duke consent, " says Campion, "that should theminister be in the same carriage with his Royal Highness, the designshould not be executed; but he said, that if he were alone, he must bekilled. Early in the morning he had the horses out and kept himself inreadiness at the Capucins with Beaupuis, near the Hôtel de Vendôme, posting a valet on foot in the street to tell him when the Cardinalshould pass, and enjoining me to keep with those whom I was accustomedto muster at the Cabaret l'Ange, in the Rue Saint-Honoré, very near theHôtel de Vendôme, and if the Cardinal journeyed without the Duked'Orleans, I should mount instantly with all my men, and intercept himwhen passing the Capucins. I was, " adds Campion, "in a state of anxietywhich may readily be imagined, until I saw the carriage of the Duked'Orleans pass, and perceived the Cardinal inside with him. "

At length, Beaufort's irritation being carried to the highest pitch bythe banishment from court of Madame de Montbazon (which was certainlyon the 22nd of August), goaded by Madame de Chevreuse, by passion, andby a false sense of honour, he became himself impatient to act. Seeingthat, during the day, he encountered incessant difficulties of which hewas far from divining the cause, he resolved to strike the blow atnight, and prepared an ambuscade, the success of which seemed certain, and the details of which we have from Campion. The Cardinal went everyevening to visit the Queen, and returned sufficiently late. It wasarranged to attack him between the Louvre and the Hôtel de Cleves. Horses were to be in readiness in some neighbouring inn. The Dukehimself should keep watch with Beaupuis and Campion, during the time theminister should be with the Queen, and so soon as he came forth, allthree should advance and make a signal to the rest, who, in themeanwhile, should remain on horseback on the quay, by the river side, close to the Louvre. All which could be very well done at night withoutawakening any suspicion. 

It must be remembered that the person who furnishes these very precisedetails was one of the principal conspirators, that he wrote atsufficiently considerable distance from the event, in safety, and, torepeat it once again, with no interest, fearing nothing more fromMazarin, who had recently died, and expecting nothing from him. It mustbe also remembered that speaking as he has done, he accuses his ownbrother; that, without doubt, he attributes to himself laudableintentions and even some good actions, but that he confesses havingentered into the plot, and that, if its execution had taken place hewould have taken part in it, in fighting by the side of Beaufort. Theprocess submitted to the parliament not having led to anything, throughfailure of evidence, Campion did not imagine that Mazarin had everknown "the circumstances of the plot, nor those acquainted with it tothe very bottom, and who were engaged in it. " He adds also, "that nowthe Cardinal is dead there is no longer any reason to fear injuring anyone in stating matters as they are. " He therefore does not defendhimself; he believes himself to be sheltered from all quest, he writesonly to relieve his conscience. 

From these curious revelations we further learn what importance Mazarinattached to the arrest of Henri Campion; and that writer's statementsare not only substantially confirmed by various entries in the_carnets_, but read like a translation into French of those pages fromthe Cardinal's Italian. "They threw, " he says, "into the Bastille, Avancourt and Brassy, where they deposed that I had mustered them onseveral occasions, on the part of the Duke de Beaufort, for theinterests of Madame de Montbazon, as I had told them. This did notafford any motive for interrogating the Duke, since they owned that hehad not spoken to them; thus he would not have failed to deny havinggiven the orders which I carried to them on his part. It was then seenthat the process against him could not be carried on before I had beenarrested, in order to find matter whereon to interrogate him after myown depositions, and so thoroughly to embarrass us both that every traceof the affair might be discovered. The proof of this conspiracy was ofmost essential importance to the Cardinal, who directing all his effortsto the establishment of his government, and affecting to do so by gentlemeans, had been unfortunate enough to be constrained, in the outset, touse violence against one of the greatest men in the realm, for his ownindividual interest, without a conviction to prove that he wascompelled to treat the Duke with rigour. The Cardinal, despairing ofbeing able to persuade others of that of which he was entirely assured, had a great desire to get me into his hands. He was nevertheless ofopinion that he must give me time to reassure myself of safety in orderto take me with the greater facility. "

We may add to all this that Henri de Campion, sought after sharply, andclosely shut up in his retreat at Anet, under the protection of the Dukede Vendôme, having fled from France and joined his friend the Count deBeaupuis at Rome, gives an account of the obstinate efforts made byMazarin to obtain the extradition of the latter, the resistance of PopeInnocent X. , the regard shown to Beaupuis when they were compelled toconfine him in the Castle of Saint-Angelo; all of which being equally tobe met with in the _carnets_ and letters of Mazarin and the memoirs ofHenri de Campion, places beyond doubt the perfect sincerity of theCardinal's proceedings and the accuracy of his information. 

Are not these, we may ask, proofs sufficient to reduce to naught theinterested doubts of La Rochefoucauld and the passionate denials of thechief of the Fronde, the very clever but very little truthful Cardinalde Retz, the most ardent and most obstinate of Mazarin's enemies? Itwould seem, indeed, either that there is no certitude whatever inhistory, or that it must be considered henceforth as a point absolutelydemonstrated that there was a project determined upon to kill Mazarin;that that project had been conceived by Madame de Chevreuse, and in somesort imposed by her upon Beaufort with the aid of Madame de Montbazon;that Beaufort had for principal accomplices the Count de Beaupuis andAlexandre de Campion; that Henri de Campion had entered later into theaffair, at the pressing solicitation of the Duke, as well as two otherofficers of secondary rank; that during the month of August there weredivers serious attempts to put it into execution, particularly the lastone after the banishment of Madame de Montbazon, at the very end ofAugust or rather on the 1st of September; and that such attempt onlyfailed through circumstances altogether independent of the will of theconspirators. 

CHAPTER V. 

 FAILURE OF THE PLOT TO ASSASSINATE MAZARIN. ARREST OF BEAUFORT, BANISHMENT OF MADAME DE CHEVREUSE, AND DISPERSION OF THE "IMPORTANTS. "

LET us now inquire how the last attempt against Mazarin's life--thatnocturnal ambuscade so well planned and so deliberately set about on the1st of September, 1643--chanced to fail, and what was the result of suchfailure. Without stopping to discuss the conjectures of Campion on thispoint, it may suffice to state that Mazarin, who was on his guard, evaded the blow destined for him by not visiting the Queen during theevening on which it was resolved to kill him as he should return fromthe Louvre. Next day the scene was changed. A rumour spread rapidly thatthe Prime Minister had expected to have been murdered by Beaufort andhis friends, that he had escaped, fortune having declared in his favour. A plot to assassinate, more especially when it fails, invariably excitesthe strongest indignation, and the man who has extricated himself from agreat peril and seems destined to sweep all such from his path, readilyfinds adherents and defenders. A host of people who would probably havesupported Beaufort victorious, now flocked to offer their swords andservices to the Cardinal, and on that morning he went to the Louvreescorted by three hundred gentlemen. 

For several days previously, Mazarin had seen clearly that, cost whatit might, he must cut his way through the knotted intricacy of thesituation, and that the moment had arrived for forcing Anne of Austriato choose her part. The occasion was decisive. If the peril which he hadjust undergone, and which was only suspended over his head, did notsuffice to draw the Queen from her incertitude, it would prove that shedid not love him; and Mazarin knew well that, amidst the many dangerssurrounding him, his entire strength lay in the Queen's affection, andthat thereon depended his present safety and future fate. Whether, therefore, through policy or sincere affection, it was always to Anne ofAustria's heart that he addressed himself, and at the outset of thecrisis he had said to himself: "If I believed that the Queen was merelymaking use of me through necessity, without having any personalinclination for me, I would not stay here three days longer. "[1] Butenough has been said to show plainly that Anne of Austria _loved_Mazarin. Comparing him with his rivals, she appreciated him daily moreand more. She admired the precision and clearness of his intellect, hisfinesse and penetration, and that extraordinary energy which enabled himto bear the weight of government with marvellous ease--his quick andaccurate introspection, his profound prudence, and at the same time thejudicious vigour of his resolves. She saw the affairs of Franceprospering on all sides under his firm and skilful hand. The Cardinal, it is true, was not quite a nullity, in the fierce war which hadinaugurated the new reign so dazzlingly; but a power of no slight weightwas manifest in the success which had followed his advent to office, and which proved to startled Europe that the victory of Rocroy was not alucky stroke of chance. When every member of the Council was opposed tothe siege of Thionville, and when Turenne himself, on being consulted, did not venture to declare his opinion on the subject, it was Mazarinwho had insisted with an unflinching persistence that the victory ofRocroy should be profited by, and that France should extend her frontierto the Rhine. That proposition, doubtless, emanated from the youthfulconqueror, but Mazarin had the merit of comprehending, sustaining, andcausing it to triumph. If no first minister had ever before been soserved by such a general, neither had general ever been so supported bysuch a minister; and thanks to both, on the 11th of August, whilst thechivalrous _Importants_ were exhausting their combined talents inputting a shameful affront upon the noble sister of the hero who hadjust served France so gloriously, and who was about to aggrandize itfurther--whilst they were displaying their vapid and turgid eloquence inthe salons, or sharpening their poniards in gloomy council chambers, Thionville, then one of the chief strongholds of the Empire, surrenderedafter an obstinate defence. Thus, the Regency of Anne of Austria hadopened under the most brilliant auspices. 

 [1] Entry in Carnet, iii. P. 10, in Spanish:--"Sy yo creyera lo que dicen que S. M. Se sierve di mi per necessidad, sin tener alguna inclination, no pararia aqui tres dias. "

But in the height of this national glory and signal triumph, Queen Annemust indeed have shuddered when Mazarin placed before her all the proofsof the odious conspiracy formed against him. Explanations the mostminute and confidential thereupon ensued between them. It was now morethan ever compulsory for her to "raise the mask, "[2] to sacrifice to amanifest necessity the circumspection she was studious of preserving--tobrave somewhat further the tittle-tattle of a few devotees of eithersex, and at all events to permit her Prime Minister to defend his life. Up to this moment Anne of Austria had hesitated, for reasons which maybe readily comprehended. But Madame de Montbazon's insolence had greatlyirritated her; the conviction she acquired that numerous attempts toassassinate Mazarin had only by chance failed, and might be renewed, decided her; and it was, therefore, towards the close of August, 1643, when the date of that declared ascendancy, open and unrivalled, must becertainly fixed, of the Minister of the Queen Regent. Theseconspirators, by proceeding to the last extremities, and thereby makingher tremble for Mazarin's life, hastened the triumph of the happyCardinal; and on the morrow of the last nocturnal ambush in which he wasmarked for destruction, Jules Mazarin became absolute master of theQueen's heart, and more powerful than Richelieu had ever been after the_Day of Dupes_. 

 [2] "Quitarse la maschera. " Carnet, ii. P. 65. 

The minister's _carnets_ will be searched in vain for any traces of theexplanations which Mazarin must have had with the Queen during thisgrave conjuncture. Such explanations are not of a nature likely to beforgotten, and of which there is any need to take notes. An obscurepassage, however, is to be met with, written in Spanish, of which thefollowing words have a meaning clear enough to be understood: "I oughtno longer to have any doubt, since the Queen, in an excess of goodness, has told me that nothing could deprive me of the post which she has doneme the honour of giving me near her; nevertheless, as fear is theinseparable companion of affection, &c. "[3] At this anxious moment, Mazarin was attacked with a slight illness, brought on by incessantlabour and wearing anxieties, and an attack of jaundice havingsupervened, the Cardinal jotted down the following brief but highlysuggestive memorandum:--"_La giallezza cagionata dà soverchioamore_. "[4]

 [3] Carnet, iii. P. 45. --"Mas contodo esto siendo el temor un compagnero inseparabile dell'affection, " &c. 

 [4] Carnet, iv. P. 3. 

Madame de Motteville was in attendance on Anne of Austria when therumour of the abortive attempt at assassination brought a crowd ofcourtiers to the Louvre in hot haste to protest their devotedness to theCrown. The Queen, with great emotion, whispered to her trustylady-in-waiting: "Ere eight and forty hours elapse you shall see how Iwill avenge myself for the evil tricks these false friends have playedme. " "Never, " adds Madame de Motteville, "can the remembrance of thosefew brief words be effaced from my mind. I saw at that moment, by thefire that flashed in the Queen's eyes, and in fact by what happened onthat very evening and next day, what it is to be a female sovereign whenenraged, and with the power of doing what she pleases. "[5] Had thecautious lady-in-waiting been less discreet, she might have added, "especially when that sovereign lady is a woman in love. "

 [5] Mémoires, vol. I. P. 185. 

The break-up and dispersion of the _Importants_ once decided upon, thefirst step was to arrest Beaufort, and bring him to trial. To this theQueen gave her consent. Of the authority Mazarin had acquired, suchproceeding was a striking indication, and showed how far Anne of Austriamight one day go in defence of a minister who was dear to her. The Dukede Beaufort had been, before her husband's death, the man in whom theQueen placed most confidence, and for some time he was thought destinedto play the brilliant part of a royal favourite. In a brief space he hadeffectually thrown away his chance by his presumptuous conduct, hisevident incapacity, and yet more by his public _liaison_ with Madame deMontbazon. Still the Queen had shown a somewhat singular weakness in hisfavour, and at the expiration of three short months to sign an order forhis arrest was a great step--necessary, it is true, but extreme, andwhich was the manifest sign of an entire change in the heart andintimate relations of Anne of Austria. The dissimulation even with whichshe acted in that affair marks the deliberative firmness of herresolution. 

The 2nd of September, 1643, was truly a memorable day in the career ofMazarin, and we may say, in the annals of France; for it witnessed theconfirming of the royal power, shaken to its base by the deaths ofRichelieu and Louis XIII. , and the ruin of the party of the_Importants_. 

On the morning of the 2nd, all Paris and its Court rang with the reportof the ambuscade laid for Mazarin the night previous, between the Louvreand the Hôtel de Cleves. The five conspirators who had joined hands withBeaufort in it had taken flight and placed themselves in safety. Beaufort and Madame de Chevreuse could not imitate them: flight for themwould have been a self-denunciation. The intrepid Duchess therefore hadnot hesitated to appear at Court, and she was at the Regent's sideduring the evening of the 2nd together with another person, a strangerto these dark plots and even incapable of putting faith in them--a verydifferent enemy of Mazarin--the pious and noble Madame de Hautefort. Asfor the Duke, careless and courageous, he had gone to the chase in themorning, and at his return he went, according to his custom, to presenthis homage to the Queen. On entering the Louvre he met his mother, Madame de Vendôme, and his sister the Duchess de Nemours, who hadaccompanied the Queen all day and remarked her emotion. They did allthey could to prevent him going up stairs, and entreated him to absenthimself for a while. He, without troubling himself in the slightestdegree, answered them in the words of the doomed Duke de Guise--"Theydare not!"--and entered the Queen's great cabinet, who received him withthe best grace possible, and asked him all sorts of questions about hishunting, "as though, " says Madame de Motteville, "she had no otherthought in her mind. " The Cardinal having come in in the midst of thisgentle chat, the Queen rose and bade him follow her. It appeared as ifshe wished to take counsel with him in her chamber. She entered it, followed by her Minister. At the same time the Duke de Beaufort, aboutto leave, met Guitant, captain of the guard, who arrested him, andcommanded the Duke to follow him in the names of the King and Queen. ThePrince, without showing any surprise, after having looked fixedly athim, said, "Yes, I will; but this, I must own, is strange enough. " Thenturning towards Mesdames de Chevreuse and de Hautefort, who were talkingtogether, he said to them, "Ladies, you see that the Queen has caused meto be arrested. " The young nobleman then submitted to the royal mandatewithout offering the slightest resistance; slept that night at theLouvre, and the next morning was taken to the donjon of Vincennes, whilea general decree of banishment was pronounced against all the principalmembers of the faction. 

The Vendômes were ordered to retire to Anet; and the Chateau d'Anethaving soon become what the Hôtel de Vendôme at Paris had been, a hauntof the conspirators, Mazarin demanded them from the Duke Cæsar, who tookgood care not to give them up. The Cardinal was almost reduced to thenecessity of laying siege to the château in regular form. He threatenedto enter the place by main force and lay hands on Beaufort'saccomplices; unable to endure the scandal that a prince even of theblood should brave law and justice with impunity, he had determined topush matters to the uttermost, and was about to take energetic measures, when the Duke de Vendôme himself decided on quitting France, and went toItaly to await the fall of Mazarin, as formerly he had awaited inEngland that of Richelieu. 

The arrest of Beaufort, the dispersion of his accomplices, his friendsand his family, was the first indispensable measure forced upon Mazarinto enable him to face a danger that seemed most imminent. But what wouldit have availed him to lop off an arm had he left the headuntouched--had Madame de Chevreuse remained at Court, ever ready tosurround the Queen with attention and homage, assiduous to retain andhusband the last remnant of her old favour, in order to sustain andsecretly encourage the malcontents, inspire them with her audacity, andstir them up to fresh conspiracies? She still held in her grasp thescarcely-severed threads of the plot; and at her right hand there was aman too wary to allow himself to be again compromised by such darkdoings, but quite ready to profit by them, and whom Madame de Chevreusehad sedulously exhibited not only to Anne of Austria, but to France andall Europe, as a man singularly capable of conducting State affairs. Mazarin, therefore, did not hesitate; but on the day followingBeaufort's arrest, Châteauneuf, Montrésor, and St. Ybar were banished. The first-named was invited to present himself at Court, kiss theQueen's hand, and then betake himself to his government in Touraine. Richelieu's late Keeper of the Seals deemed it something to haveescaped an open disgrace, to have resumed the eminent post he hadformerly occupied under the Crown, and the government of a largeprovince. Yet did his ambition soar far higher still: but he kept it incheck, and merely postponed its flight for a less stormy hour--obeyedthe Queen, skilfully remained friends with her, and likewise kept onvery good terms with her Prime Minister--biding his time until he mightdisplace him. He had to wait a long time, however; but eventually didnot quit life without once more grasping, for a moment at least, thatpower which the indulgence of an insensate passion had lost him, butwhich an inviolable and unswerving friendship in the end restored tohim. [6]

 [6] Châteauneuf held the seals from March, 1650, when Mazarin went into voluntary exile, until April, 1651. He died in 1653, at the age of seventy-three. 

Madame de Chevreuse unhappily lacked the wisdom displayed throughoutthis fiery ordeal by Châteauneuf. She forgot for once to look with asmiling face upon the passing storm, in which she was too suddenlycaught to escape altogether scatheless. La Châtre--one of her friends, and who saw her almost every day--relates that during the very sameevening on which Beaufort was arrested at the Louvre, "Her Majesty toldthe Duchess that she believed her to be innocent of the prisoner'sdesigns, but that nevertheless to avoid scandal she deemed it fittingthat Madame de Chevreuse should quietly withdraw to Dampierre, and thatafter making some short sojourn there she should retire intoTouraine. "[7] The Duchess, therefore, saw plainly that she had nothingfor it but to go at once to Dampierre; but no sooner did she arrive ather favourite château than, instead of remaining quiet, she began tomove heaven and earth to save those who had compromised themselves forher sake. She began, indeed, to knot the meshes of a new web ofintrigue, and even found means of placing a letter in the Queen's ownhand. Message after message was, however, sent to hasten herdeparture--Montagu being despatched to her on the same errand, as wasalso La Porte. She received them haughtily, and deferred her journeyunder divers pretexts. It will be remembered that on going to meet theDuchess when on her road from Brussels, Montagu had offered her, on theQueen's part as well as that of Mazarin, to discharge in her name thedebts she had contracted during so many years of exile. The Duchess hadalready received heavy sums, but was unwilling to set forth for Touraineuntil after the Queen should have performed all her promises. Marie deRohan had left the Louvre and Paris, her bosom swelling with grief andrage, as Hannibal had quitted Italy. She felt that the Court and capitaland the Queen's inner circle formed the true field of battle, and thatto remove herself from it was to abandon the victory to the enemy. Herretreat, indeed, was an occasion of mourning to the entire Catholicparty, as well as to the friends of peace and the Spanish alliance, but, on the contrary, of public rejoicing for the friends of the Protestantalliance. The Count d'Estrade actually went to the Louvre on the part ofthe Prince of Orange, from whom he was accredited, to thank the Regentofficially for it. 

 [7] "Allontanar Cheverosa che fà mille cabelle. " Mazarin's Carnet, iii. 81, 82. 

Madame de Chevreuse made her way, therefore, to her estate of Duverger, between Tours and Angiers. The deep solitude that there reignedaround her embittered all the more the feeling of defeat. She kept up, however, a brisk correspondence with her stepmother, Madame deMontbazon--banished to Rochefort; and the two exiled Duchesses mutuallyexhorted each other to leave no stone unturned towards effecting theoverthrow of their common enemy. Vanquished at home, Madame de Chevreusecentred all her hopes in foreign lands. She revived the friendlyrelations which she had never ceased to cherish with England, Spain, andthe Low Countries. Her chief prop, the centre and interposer of herintrigues, was Lord Goring, our ambassador at the French Court; who, like his ill-starred master, and more especially his royal mistress, belonged to the Spanish party. Croft, an English gentleman who hadfigured in the train of the Duchess some years previously, bestirredhimself actively and openly in her behalf, whilst the Chevalier de Jarsintrigued warily and in secret for Châteauneuf. Beneath the mantle ofthe English embassy a vast correspondence was carried on between Madamede Chevreuse, Vendôme, Bouillon, and the rest of the _Malcontents_. 

CHAPTER VI. 

 CONSEQUENCES OF THE QUARREL BETWEEN THE DUCHESSES DE LONGUEVILLE AND DE MONTBAZON. --FATAL DUEL BETWEEN THE DUKE DE GUISE AND COUNT MAURICE DE COLIGNY. 

AS has been said, the 2nd of September, 1643, had been truly a memorableday in the career of Mazarin, and, indeed, in the annals of France; forit witnessed the confirming of the royal power, shaken to its base bythe deaths of Richelieu and Louis XIII. , and the ruin of that dangerousfaction the _Importants_. The intestine discords which threatened thenew reign were thus forced to await a more favourable opportunity fordevelopment. They did not raise their heads again until five yearsafterwards--on the breaking out of the Fronde, in which they showedthemselves just the same men as ever, with the same designs, the samepolitics, foreign and domestic; and after raising sanguinary and sterilecommotions, re-appeared only to break themselves to pieces once moreagainst the genius of Mazarin and the invincible firmness of Anne ofAustria. 

Mazarin, therefore, who soon found himself without a rival in theQueen's good graces, continued steadily to carry on within and withoutthe realm the system of his predecessor, and royalty, as well as France, reckoned upon a succession of halcyon years, thanks to the re-union ofthe Princes of the blood with the Crown, to the tactics and personalconduct of the Prime Minister, and to his political sagacity, secondedby the military genius of the Duke d'Enghien. The imprudence of Madamede Montbazon and her lover Beaufort in the affair of the dropped lettershad the effect of increasing Mazarin's power incalculably, and that atthe very moment that a splendid victory gained by the young Duked'Enghien had made him and his sister paramount at Court--paramount by apopularity so universal that it almost made the Queen and her ministertheir _protégés_ rather than their patrons. 

The Duke d'Enghien had returned to Paris after Rocroy, and at the end ofa campaign in which he had taken a very important stronghold, passed theRhine with the French army, and carried the war into Germany. The Queenhad received him as the liberator of France. Mazarin, who looked more tothe reality than the semblance of power, intimated to the youngconqueror that his sole ambition was to be his chaplain and man ofbusiness with the Queen. At a distance, the Duke d'Enghien had praisedeverything that had been done, and came from the camp over head and earsin love with Madlle. Du Vigean, and furious that any one should havedared to insult a member of his house. He adored his sister, and he hada warm friendship for Coligny. [1] He was aware of and had favoured hispassion for that sister. Engaged himself in a suit as ardent as it waschaste, he readily comprehended that his beautiful sister might wellhave been not insensible to the fervent assiduities of the braveMaurice, but he revolted at the thought of the amatory effusions of aMadame de Fouquerolles being attributed to her, and he assumed a tone inthe matter which effectually arrested any further insinuation from eventhe most insolent and daring. 

 [1] Grandson of the famous Admiral de Coligny, who perished in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. 

Amongst the especial friends of Beaufort and Madame de Montbazon, foremost of all stood the Duke de Guise. [2] They had manoeuvred tosecure him as well as the rest of his family to their party, throughGaston, Duke d'Orleans, who had espoused as his second wife a princessof the house of Lorraine--the lovely Marguerite, sister of Charles IV. And second daughter of Duke Francis. The Duke de Guise had alreadyplayed many strange pranks and committed more than one folly, but he hadnot as yet signally failed in any serious enterprise. His incapacity wasnot patent. He had the prestige of his name, youth, good looks, and acourage carried even to temerity. The avowed slave of Madame deMontbazon, he had espoused her quarrel, and to gratify her had joined inpropagating those calumnious reports, but without exhibiting theviolence of Beaufort, and had remained erect, confronting and defyingthe victorious Condés. 

 [2] Henry, son of Charles de Guise, and grandson of the _Balafré_. 

Coligny had had the good sense to keep aloof during the storm, for fearof still further compromising Madame de Longueville by exhibitinghimself openly as her champion: but a few months having elapsed, hethought that he might at last show himself, and, as a certainauthority[3] tells us, "the imprisonment of the Duke de Beaufort havingdeprived that noble of the chance of measuring swords with him, headdressed himself to the Duke de Guise. " La Rochefoucauld says, "theDuke d'Enghien, unable to testify to the Duke de Beaufort, who was inprison, the resentment he felt at what had passed between Madame deLongueville and Madame de Montbazon, left Coligny at liberty to fightwith the Duke de Guise, who had mixed himself up in this affair. " TheDuke d'Enghien, therefore, knew and approved of what Coligny did. Infact, he found himself without an adversary in the affair of sufficientrank to justify a prince of the blood in drawing his sword against him. So far as regards Madame de Longueville, it is absurd to suppose that, desirous of vengeance, she it was who had urged on Coligny, foreverybody ascribed to her a line of conduct characterised by greatmoderation, as contrasted with that of the Princess de Condé. Far fromenvenoming the quarrel, she wished to hush it up, and Madame deMotteville thus significantly alludes to that fact: "The enmity she boreMadame de Montbazon being proportionate to the love she bore herhusband, it did not carry her so far but that she found it more à proposto dissimulate that outrage than otherwise. "

 [3] An inedited Memoir upon the Regency. 

La Rochefoucauld gives some particulars which explain what follows. Coligny, just risen out of a long illness, was still very muchenfeebled, and, moreover, not very "skilful of fence. " Such was hiscondition when, as the champion of Madame de Longueville, he confrontedthe Duke de Guise in mortal duel, whilst the latter, like most heroes ofthe parade-ground, possessed rare cunning at carte and tierce. Withregard to the seconds chosen, they are in every respect worthy ofnotice. In those days, seconds were witnesses of the duel in which theythemselves fought. Coligny selected as his second, and to give thechallenge, as was then the custom, Godefroi, Count d'Estrades, a man ofcool and tried courage. The Duke de Guise's second was his equerry, theMarquis de Bridieu, a Limousin gentleman and brave officer, faithfullyattached to the house of Lorraine, who, in 1650, admirably defendedGuise against the Spanish army and against Turenne, and for that bravedefence, during which there were twenty-four days of open trenches, hewas made lieutenant-general. 

It was arranged that the affair should come off at the Place Royale--theusual arena for those sort of encounters, and which had been a hundredtimes stained with the best blood of France. The mansions around thePlace Royale were then tenanted by ladies of the highest rank andfashion, amongst the rest, Marguerite, Duchess de Rohan, Madame deGuéméné, Madame de Chaulnes, Madame de St. Geran, Madame de Sablé, theCountess de St. Maure, and many others, under the influence of whosebright eyes those volatile and valiant French gentlemen delighted tocross swords. And there many a noble form had been struck down never torise again, and many a noble heart had throbbed its last. During thefirst quarter of the seventeenth century, the duel was a custom at onceuseful and disastrous, inasmuch as it kept up the warlike spirit of thenobles, but which mowed them down as fast as war itself, and but toofrequently for frivolous causes. To draw swords for trifles had becomethe obligatory accompaniment of good manners; and as gallantry had itsfinished fops, so the duel had its refined rufflers. In thecomparatively short period of a few years, nine hundred gentlemenperished in these combats. To stop this scourge, Richelieu issued aroyal edict, which punished death by death, and sent the offenders fromthe Place Royale to the Place de Grève. On this head Richelieu showedhimself inflexible, and the examples of Montmorency-Bouteville, beheadedwith his second, the Count Deschappelles, for having challenged Beuvronand fought with him on the Place Royale at mid-day, impressed asalutary terror, and rendered infraction of the edict very rare. Coligny, however, braved everything; he challenged Guise, and on theappointed day the two noble adversaries, accompanied by their seconds, D'Estrades and Bridieu, met upon the Place Royale. 

Of this memorable duel, thanks to contemporary memoirs as well asvarious kinds of MSS. , the minutest details have been preserved. 

On the 12th of December, 1643, D'Estrades went in the morning to callout the Duke de Guise on the part of Coligny. The rendezvous was fixedfor the same day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, at the PlaceRoyale. The two adversaries did not appear abroad during the wholemorning, and at three o'clock they were on the ground. A sentence isascribed to Guise which invests the scene with an unwonted grandeur, andarrays for the last time in bitterest animosity and deadly antagonismthe two most illustrious representatives of the League wars in thepersons of their descendants. On unsheathing his sword Guise said toColigny: "We are about to decide the old feud of our two houses, and tosee what a difference there is between the blood of Guise and that ofColigny. "

Coligny's only reply was to deal his adversary a long lunge; but, weakas he was, his rearward foot failed him, and he sank upon his knee. Guise advanced upon him and set his foot upon his sword, in such manneras though he would have said, "I do not desire to kill you, but to treatyou as you deserve, for having presumed to address yourself to a princeof such birth as mine, without his having given you just cause, "--and hestruck him with the flat of his sword-blade. Coligny, furious, collectedhis strength, threw himself backwards, disengaged his sword, andrecommenced the strife. In this second bout, Guise was slightly woundedin the shoulder, and Coligny in the hand. At length, Guise, in makinganother thrust at his adversary, grasped his sword-blade, by which hishand was slightly cut, but, wresting it from Coligny's grasp, dealt hima desperate thrust in the arm which put him _hors de combat_. MeanwhileD'Estrades and Bridieu had grievously wounded each other. 

Such was the issue of that memorable duel--the last, it appears, of thefamous encounters on the Place Royale. We thus see that, though cowed, the French noblesse had not been tamed by Richelieu's solemn edict. Thislast duel did very little honour to Coligny, and almost everybody tookpart with the Duke de Guise. The Queen manifested very livelydispleasure at the violation of the edict, and the Duke d'Orleans, urgedthereto by his wife and the Lorraine family, made a loud outcry. ThePrince and Princess de Condé also found themselves compelled to declareagainst Coligny--doubly in the wrong, both because he had been thechallenger and been unfortunate in the result. Proof that there was anunderstanding between Coligny and the Duke d'Enghien is evident from thelatter not deserting the unlucky champion of his sister, that hereceived the wounded man into his house at Paris, afterwards at SaintMaur, and that he did not cease from surrounding him with his protectionand care in spite of his father, the Prince de Condé. When the matterwas referred to the Parliament, conformably to the edict, and the twoadversaries were summoned to appear, the Duke de Guise announced hisintention of repairing to the chamber with a retinue of princes andgreat nobles; whilst, on his side, the Duke d'Enghien threatened toescort his friend after the same fashion. But the initiativeproceedings were stayed through the deplorable condition into which poorColigny was known to have fallen. 

That unfortunate young man languished for some months, and died in thelatter part of May, 1644, alike in consequence of his wounds and ofdespair for having so badly sustained the cause of his own house, aswell as that of Madame de Longueville. 

This affair, with all its dramatic features and tragical termination, created an immense and painful impression not only in Paris, butthroughout France. It momentarily awakened party feelings which had forsome time slumbered, and suspended the festivals of the winter of 1644. It not only occupied the families more closely concerned and the Court, but forcibly affected the whole of the highest class of society, andlong remained the absorbing topic of every saloon. It may be readilyconceived that the story in spreading thus widely became enlarged withimaginary incidents one after another. At first, it was supposed thatMadame de Longueville was in love with Coligny. That was necessary togive the greater interest to the narrative. From thence came the nextinvention, that she herself had armed Coligny's hand, and thatD'Estrades, charged to challenge the Duke de Guise, having remarked toColigny that the Duke might probably repudiate the injurious wordsattributed to him, and that honour would thus be satisfied, Coligny hadthereupon replied: "That is not the question. I pledged my word toMadame de Longueville to fight him on the Place Royale, and I cannotfail in that promise. "[4] There was no stopping a cavalier in such achivalrous course as that, and Madame de Longueville would not have beenthe sister of the victor of Rocroy--a heroine worthy of sustainingcomparison with those of Spain, who beheld their lovers die at theirfeet in the tournament--had she not been present at the duel betweenGuise and Coligny. It is asserted, therefore, that on the 12th ofDecember she was stationed in an hôtel on the Place Royale belonging tothe Duchess de Rohan, and that there, concealed behind a window-curtain, she had witnessed the discomfiture of her _preux chevalier_. 

 [4] Mad. De Motteville. 

Then, as now, it was verse--that is to say, the ballad--which set itsseal on the popular incident of the moment. When the event was anunlucky one, the song was a burlesquely pathetic complaint, and alwayswith a vein of raillery running through it. Such was the effusion withwhich every _ruelle_ rang, and it was really set to music, for thenotation is still to be found in the _Recueil de Chansons notées_, preserved at the Arsenal at Paris. It ran thus:--

 "Essuyez vos beaux yeux, Madame de Longueville, Coligny se porte mieux. S'il a demandé la vie, Ne l'en blâmez nullement; Car c'est pour être votre amant Qu'il veut vivre éternellement. "

BOOK III. 

CHAPTER I. 

 THE DUCHESS DE LONGUEVILLE AND THE DUKE DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 

THAT Madame de Longueville witnessed the duel on the Place Royale seemsto rest on no reliable authority. Such a trait is so utterly at variancewith her character that its attribution would impute to her the mannersof a semi-Italianised princess of the Valois race. There are besides nosufficient grounds for believing that her affections had for a momentbeen given to Coligny, though doubtless her innate tenderness must havebeen touched by his chivalrous love and devotion. Miossens, afterwardsbetter known as Marshal d'Albret, next tried in vain to win a heartwhich had hitherto appeared insensible to the master-passion, but afteran obstinate persistence was ultimately constrained to relinquish allhope. When, in 1645, M. De Longueville went as minister-plenipotentiaryto the Congress of Münster, the young Duchess remained in Paris, herelement being still the social sphere of the Court solely--a taste forpolitical life not having yet been developed through the impulse of heraffections. Let us here add that, notwithstanding the almost unanimousassertion of contemporaries at this period that even women could notbehold Madame de Longueville without admiration, the heart of thispreeminently gifted creature seems amidst the universal homage to havebeen proof against all and every repeated assault. Anne of Austrialoved her but little, partly through a jealous feeling created by hersingular beauty, partly from her great reputation for wit, and also fromher perpetual wranglings for precedence with other princesses of theblood. In fact, in order to lose no tittle of the prerogatives derivedfrom her birth, Madame de Longueville had obtained a royal brevet fromthe king which maintained her in the rank which she would have otherwiselost by her marriage. A pride so exacting does not appear to agree withthe peculiar nonchalance that was one of her striking characteristics;but, later in life, when she had become devout and penitent, she tookcare to explain that seeming contradiction. "I have been defined, " saidshe, "as having, as it were, two individualities of opposite nature inme, and that I could interchange them at any moment; but that arose fromthe different situations in which I was placed, for I was dead, likeunto the dead, to aught which slightly affected me, and keenly alive tothe smallest things which interested me. " Reading and study were neveramong the things which stirred her into animation. Entirely occupiedwith her fascinations and individual sentiments, at no period of herlife did she ever think of repairing the early neglect of her education. In this respect she was inferior, on the authority even of herapologists, to many ladies of the Court and city. Intoxicated as she hadbeen by the fumes of the incense which flattery had wafted around her inthe circle of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, she probably had no perceptionof her failings on that essential point. The spontaneity of her wit, hernatural aptitude to comprehend and decide upon all sorts of questions, made up for her deficiency in that kind of information which is acquiredfrom books and other modes of study, and often stood her in good stead, both on the part of her detractors and of her partisans, of the loftycharacteristics of "great genius. " M. Cousin, who is by no means severeas regards the errors or demerits of the Duchess, says that "she did notknow how to write. " Mademoiselle de Montpensier and Madame deMotteville, however, both express the very opposite opinion. The firstremarks, speaking of the Countess de Maure:--"The precision and thepolish of her style would be incomparable if Madame de Longueville hadnever written. " The second declares that "this lady has ever written aswell as any one living. " The fact is, so far as may be judged from thoseof her letters which have come down to us, that Madame de Longueville'sstyle bore the reflex of her conversation: there are some passages veryremarkable in their force, some phrases altogether trite andinsignificant. This opinion is quite beside the consideration of herdiction in a grammatical point of view. In her written as in her spokenlanguage, she seems to have been impassive or to have kindled intoanimation according as her thoughts were "dead or living, " to use herown phrase. Speaking and writing, however, are two very differentthings, both requiring an especial cultivation; and as Madame deLongueville was defective in anything like what is termed "regulareducation" or "sound instruction, " that fact became apparent so soon asshe took her pen in hand. Her great natural endowments shone on paperwith difficulty, through faults of every kind which escaped her notice. It is really no small gift to be able to express one's sentiments andideas in their natural order, and with all their true and variousshades, in terms neither too homely nor far-fetched, or which neitherenfeeble nor exaggerate them. It is by no means rare to meet with men insociety remarkable for intelligence, nerve, and grace when they speak, but who become unintelligible when they commit their thoughts towriting. The fact is, that writing is an art--a very difficult art, andone which must be carefully learned. Madame de Longueville was ignorantof this, as were some of the most eminent women of her time. Thereexists unquestionable evidence to prove that the Princess Palatine was aperson of large intelligence, who was able to hold her own with men ofthe greatest capacity. De Retz and Bossuet tell us so. Some letters ofthe Palatine, however, are extant in which, whilst there is no lack ofsolidity, refinement, and ingenuity of thought, it will be seen thatthey often abound with errors, obscure phraseology, and not unfrequentlyoutrageously violate even the commonest rules of orthography. It mustnot, however, by any means be inferred from this that the Palatine hadnot a mind of the first order, but only that she had not been trained torender clearly and fittingly her ideas and sentiments in writing. Madamede Longueville had been no better taught. Therefore all that has beensaid about her on this score must be restricted, alike as to the defectsof her education and the brilliancy of her genius. With thoseFrenchwomen who have written at once largely and loosely, it is pleasantto contrast their contemporaries, Madame de Sévigné and Madame laFayette, both of whom always wrote well. 

In the first place, these two admirable ladies had received quiteanother sort of education to that of Madame de Longueville. They had hadthe advantage of being instructed by men of letters skilled in the artof teaching. Ménage was the chief instructor both of Mademoiselle deRabutin and Mademoiselle de Lavergne--to call those accomplishedletter-writers by their maiden names. Ménage trained them carefully incomposition, correcting rigidly their themes, pointing out their errors, cultivating their happy instincts, and modelling and polishing theirvein and style. That talented tutor appears also to have been theirplatonic adorer--more platonic indeed than he desired. In his verses hecelebrated by turns _la formosissima Laverna_ and _la bellissimaMarchesa di Sevigni_, and his lessons were doubtless given _con amore_. 

Nature had been lavish indeed in all her gifts to the latter, giving hera precision and solidity allied to an inexhaustible playfulness andsparkling vivacity. Art, in her, wedded to genius, resulted in thatincomparable epistolary style which left Balzac and Voiture far awaybehind her, and which Voltaire himself even has not surpassed. 

We must now speak of him who was destined to bias, sway, and finallydetermine the future course of Madame de Longueville's life through theconquest of her heart and mind--La Rochefoucauld--the man who inducedher to embark with him on the stormy sea of politics, whose irresistibletide swept her past the landmarks of loyalty and reputability to makeshipwreck, amongst the rocks and shoals of civil war, of fame, fortune, and domestic happiness. 

Up to the moment of her appearance on the scene of party strife inconnection with La Rochefoucauld, Madame de Longueville had not achievedmuch _political_ notoriety. Neither had her fair fame been compromisedby the very insignificant gallantry of a long train of court danglers, nor through her involuntary participation in the affair of the letterswith Madame de Montbazon. She could scarcely fail to be touched by thedevotion of Coligny, who had shed his blood to avenge her of the outrageof that vindictive woman. For a moment, it is true, she had listenedcarelessly and harmlessly to the attention of the brave and intellectualMiossens. Still later she compromised herself somewhat with the Duke deNemours; but the only man she truly loved with heart and soul was LaRochefoucauld. To him she devoted herself wholly; for him she sacrificedeverything--duty, interest, repose, reputation. For him she staked herfortune and her life. Through him she exhibited the most equivocal andmost contradictory conduct. It was La Rochefoucauld who caused her totake part in the Fronde; who, as he willed, made her advance or recede;who united her to, or separated her from, her family; who governed herabsolutely. In a word, she consented to be in his hand merely an heroicinstrument. Pride and passion had doubtless something to do with thislife of adventure and that contempt of peril. But of what stamp musthave been that soul which could find consolation in all this? And, asoften happens, the man to whom she thus devoted herself was not whollyworthy of her. He had infinite spirit; but he was coldly calculating, profoundly selfish, meanly ambitious. He measured others by himself. Hewas naturally as subtle in evil, as she was disposed spontaneously tovirtue. Full of finesse in his self-love and in the pursuit of his owninterest, he was, in reality, the least chivalrous of his sex, althoughhe affected all the appearance of the loftiest chivalry. In his_liaison_ with Madame de Longueville he made love the slave of ambition. 

It will be necessary to touch only slightly upon his career antecedentto this period. Francis, the sixth seigneur and second Duke de laRochefoucauld, was born 15th December 1613. Little is recorded of hisearly years, he himself having given no details about them. We only knowthat he was very imperfectly educated, his father being desirous thathe should early adopt the profession of arms. Himself enjoying royalfavour in the highest degree, his eldest son, the young Prince deMarsillac, profitably felt its influence; for, as early as 1626, hecommanded as _mestre-de-camp_ the Auvergne regiment of cavalry at thesiege of Casal. He took an active part in the _Day of Dupes_, the periodat which his memoirs commence. Two years previously, in 1628, he hadmarried at Mirebeau a rich and beautiful heiress of Burgundy, Andrée deVivonne, only daughter of André de Vivonne, Baron of Berandière andChasteigneraye, Grand Falconer of France, Captain in the Guards of theQueen-Mother, Marie de' Medici, Councillor of State, and one of the mosttrusty followers of Henry IV. The Prince de Marsillac was at first ingreat favour at Court, notwithstanding his father's misconduct, but hesuddenly compromised himself in a very imprudent way. Closely intimatewith that virtuous maid-of-honour, Marie de Hautefort, whom thesaturnine Louis XIII. Loved as passionately as his peculiar temperamentpermitted, and also with Mademoiselle de Chémerault, as lovely as shewas witty, he was by them hurried into a blind devotion to the cause oftheir unhappy mistress and queen, Anne of Austria, "the only party, "says he, with unusual candour, "that I ever honestly followed. " And verysoon his confidential relations with the persecuted princess became somarked as necessarily to excite Richelieu's suspicions, the more so thathe ventured to speak of the Cardinal's administration in the boldestterms. His friends advised him to retire from Court, at leasttemporarily; but, as he wished to employ his time usefully, he joined asa volunteer the army of Marshal de Chastillon, who, with Marshal de laMeilleraye, beat Prince Thomas of Savoy at Avein. After behaving withdistinction there, he returned, when the campaign was over, to Court, exhibiting a conduct still more independent, and which resulted inforcing him to rejoin his father at Blois. 

It was through the proximity of his father's château of Verteuil toPoitiers, where the Duchess de Chevreuse was then living in banishmentfrom Court, that the Prince de Marsillac first came to ally himself withthe illustrious political adventuress. At the time when La Rochefoucauldobtained political notoriety, a crisis occurred in France in nationalmanners, sentiments, and feelings. The nobles, long kept under by thestrong hand of Richelieu, were again rising into faction, and a spiritof intrigue had seized upon everyone. 

Although still young, Rochefoucauld had renounced enterprises in whichthe heart is alone concerned. No longer engrossed with love, he waswholly given up to ambition; and in order to avenge himself of the Queenand Mazarin, who had not in his opinion evinced sufficient generositytowards him to satisfy this later passion, he did not hesitate to flinghimself headlong into partisan intrigue and strife which ended in civilwar. To render himself the more formidable, he was above all desirous ofsecuring to his party the master-mind of Condé; and as Madame deLongueville enjoyed the entire confidence of her favourite brother, andhad great influence with him, the natural result was that in due courseLa Rochefoucauld made persistent love to the lovely Duchess. Seduced bythe chivalrous manners and romantic antecedents of his youth, andyielding partly to the occasion, partly to the obstinate persistence ofthe suit, and some little perhaps to the maternal blood in her veins, Madame de Longueville at length surrendered her heart to the daringaspirant. She could no longer plead early youth as an excuse, for shehad already numbered twenty-nine summers, and was only distant by a verysmall span from that formidable epoch in woman's life which adiscriminating writer of the present day has happily termed the_crisis_. That turning point in the Duchess's career was destined toprove fatal to her, and the crisis was exactly such as that of which, inthe case of another celebrated woman, M. Feillet has given a lucidanalysis--the crisis brought about by an irresistible passion. Let usbeware of hastily applying to Madame de Longueville that maxim of hercynical lover: "Women often think they still love him whom they nolonger really love. The opportunity of an intrigue, the mental emotionto which gallantry gives birth, natural inclination to the pleasure ofbeing beloved, and the pain of refusing the lover, together persuadethem that they cherish a genuine passion when it is nothing more thanmere coquetry. " Better had it been both for herself and for us tobelieve that she had only so loved. 

The beauty and intelligence of the Duchess de Longueville formedcertainly, at the commencement, a large share in the calculating lover'sdetermination to seek a _liaison_ with the Duke d'Enghien's sister. Thecrowd of admirers was great around her, and that spectacle of itselfserved to inflame the ambition of M. De Marsillac: subsequentreflection, doubtless, must have redoubled his ardour to achieve thetwofold conquest, in love and party. The Count de Miossens was thenpaying the most assiduous court to Madame de Longueville; he was veryintimately connected with Marsillac, to whom indeed he was nearlyrelated, and whom he kept well acquainted with the course of his amours. His suit to the lovely Duchess proving, as has been said, entirelyunsuccessful, Miossens eventually left the field clear to Marsillac, thebrave and simple soldier giving place to the self-seeking man of theworld. 

CHAPTER II. 

 THE DUCHESS DE LONGUEVILLE DRAWN INTO THE VORTEX OF POLITICS AND CIVIL WAR BY HER LOVE FOR LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 

WE have glanced rapidly over the fairest period of Madame deLongueville's youth, over those years wherein the splendour of hersuccess in the ranks of fashion was not obtained at the expense of hervirtue. The time approaches in which she is about to yield to themanners of her age, and to the long-combatted wants of her heart. Thelove which she inspired in others, she is, in turn, about to feelherself, and it is to engage her, at the age of twenty-eight ortwenty-nine, in a fatal connection, which will make her unmindful of allher conjugal duties, and turn her most brilliant qualities againstherself, against her family, and against France. 

Let us now relate briefly what we know of Madame de Longueville from themoment of our last mention of her up to the commencement of 1648. Thereis nothing recorded which can authorise the supposition that before theclose of 1647 Madame de Longueville had ever passed the limits of thatnoble and graceful gallantry which she saw everywhere held in honour, the praises of which she heard celebrated at the Hôtel de Rambouillet aswell as at the Hôtel de Condé, in the great verse of Corneille and inthe turgid effusions of Voiture. At the time of the duel between Guiseand Coligny, in 1644, she had seen her twenty-fifth summer. Eachsucceeding year seemed only to enhance the power of her charms, and thatpower she delighted in exhibiting. A thousand adorers pressed aroundher. Coligny was, perhaps, nearest to her heart, but had not, however, touched it. But one cannot, with impunity, trifle with love. That tragicadventure of the eldest of the Châtillons perishing, in the flower ofhis youth, by the hand of the eldest of the Guises was quickly echoed bysong and romance through every _salon_, and cast a gloom upon thedestiny of Madame de Longueville, and gave her, at an early period, afame at once aristocratic and popular, which prepared her wonderfully toplay a great part in that other tragi-comedy, heroic and gallant, calledthe Fronde. The glory of her brother was reflected upon her, and sheresponded to it somewhat by her own success at Court and in the_salons_. She acquired more and more the manners of the times. Coquetryand witty talk formed her sole occupation. Her delicate condition notpermitting her to accompany M. De Longueville to Münster, in June, 1645, she remained in Paris. It was the place above all others in which shedelighted, and whether her heart had received some slight wound, orwhether it was still entirely whole, it is clear that she was not veryglad nor greatly charmed to find herself, after her accouchement in thespring of 1646, under the cold, grey sky of Westphalia, again beside ahusband who was not, as Retz says, the most agreeable man to her in theworld. It is not difficult to divine the feelings with which that pettedbeauty of the Hôtel de Rambouillet must have left Corneille, Voiture, and all the elegancies and refinements of life, to take up her abode atMunster amongst a set of foreign diplomatists only speaking German orLatin. To her it was doubly an exile, for her native soil was notmerely France--but Paris, the Court, the Hôtel de Condé, Chantilly, thePlace Royale, the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre. [1] However, there wasnothing for it but to obey the marital summons, and to set off with herstep-daughter, Mademoiselle de Longueville, who was already more thantwenty years of age. The Duchess quitted Paris on the 20th of June, 1646, with a numerous escort under the command of Montigny, lieutenantof M. De Longueville's guards. The entire journey from Paris to Munsterwas a continual ovation. The Duke went as far as Wesel to meet her. Turenne, who then commanded on the Rhine, treated her to the spectacleof an army drawn up in order of battle, and which he manoeuvred forher amusement. Was it on that occasion that the great captain, wellknown to have been always impressionable to female beauty, received theardent impulse which was renewed at Stenay in 1650, and which, graciously but prudently acknowledged by Madame de Longueville, alwaysremained a close and tender tie between them? On the 22nd of July shemade her triumphal entry into Munster. During the entire autumn of 1646and the winter of 1647 she was really the Queen of the Congress. Herbeauty and grace of manner won homage equally from the gravediplomatists as from the great commanders who were there assembled. 

 [1] In which the Hôtel de Rambouillet was situate. 

Although the Duchess dissembled her ennui with that politeness andgentleness peculiar to herself, after the lapse of a few months she hadhad enough of her brilliant exile. In the winter of 1647 there were tworeasons for her return to France. Her father, the Prince de Condé, haddied towards the close of December, 1646, to the great loss of hisfamily and France, the consequences of which were somewhat later vividlyfelt. Moreover, Madame de Longueville had become _enceinte_, at Münsterfor the third time, and it being her mother's wish that her accouchementshould take place near her, M. De Longueville was compelled to consentto his wife's departure for Paris. 

Her return to France, at first to Chantilly, and next to Paris, in themonth of May, 1647, was quite another sort of triumph to that of herjourney to the Rhine and Holland, and her sojourn at Münster. She foundthe crowd of her adorers more numerous and attentive than ever, and inthe foremost rank her younger brother, the Prince de Conti, just freshfrom college, was taking his first lessons of life in the wider range ofthe great world. 

Shortly after her accouchement, the Duchess, who during her sojournamongst the plenipotentiaries charged with negotiating the treaty ofWestphalia, had acquired a taste, there seems little doubt, forpolitical discussions and speculations, first began to manifest aninclination to mix herself up with state affairs. There was littledifficulty in her doing so. The mission which the Duke de Longuevillecontinued to fulfil in Germany, the continued favour enjoyed by thePrincess de Condé, the ever-increasing influence which the Duked'Enghien--recently through his father's death become Prince deCondé--had acquired by his repeated victories, all these advantages, joined to the prestige of the personal charms of Madame de Longueville, placed this latter in a position to take the foremost part in the civilwar about to break out. 

The Court and Paris were then occupied with festivals and diversions, which all were eager to share with Madame de Longueville. To please theQueen, Mazarin multiplied balls and operas. At a great expense he sentto Italy for artists, singers, male and female, who represented theopera of _Orpheus_, the machinery and decorations of which are said tohave cost more than 400, 000 livres. The Queen delighted in thesespectacles. France also, as though inspired by its increasing grandeur, took pleasure in the magnificence of its government, and seconded it byredoubling its own luxury and magnificence. The pleasures of witoccupied the first rank. The Hôtel de Rambouillet, near its decline, wasshedding its last rays. Madame de Longueville reigned there as well asin all the best circles of Paris; and it must be confessed, with hergood qualities she had also some of the defects of the best_précieuses_. The following is the picture which Madame de Mottevillehas traced of her person, of the turn of her mind, of her occupation, ofher reputation, and of that of the whole house of Condé, at this period, which may be considered as the most felicitous of her life: "Thisprincess, who during her absence reigned in her family, and whoseapprobation was sought as though she were a real sovereign, did notfail, on her return to Paris, to appear in greater splendour than whenshe left it. The friendship entertained for her by the Prince, herbrother, authorizing her actions and her manners, the greatness of herbeauty and of her mind increased so much the cabal of her family, thatshe was not long at Court without almost entirely engrossing it. Shebecame the object of all desires: her clique was the centre of allintrigues, and those whom she loved became also the favourites offortune.... Her intelligence, her wit, and the high opinion entertainedfor her discernment, won for her the admiration of all good people, whowere persuaded that her esteem alone was enough to give them reputation. If, in this way, she governed people's minds, she was not lesssuccessful by means of her beauty; for although she had suffered fromthe small-pox since the Regency, and although she had lost somewhat ofthe perfection of her complexion, the splendour of her charms excited apowerful influence upon those who saw her; and she possessed especially, in the highest degree, what in the Spanish language is expressed bythose words, _donayre, brio, y bizarrie_ (gallant air). She had anadmirable form, and her person possessed a charm whose power extendedover our own sex. It was impossible to see her without loving her, andwithout desiring to please her. " Some shadows, however, slightly tonedown this otherwise brilliant portraiture. "She was then too muchengrossed with her own sentiments, which passed for infallible ruleswhile they were not always so, and there was too much affectation in hermanner of speaking and acting, whose greatest beauty was attributable todelicacy of thought and correctness of reasoning. She appearedconstrained, and the keen raillery exercised by herself and hercourtiers often fell upon those who, while rendering her their homage, felt, to their mortification, that honest sincerity, which ought to beobserved in polite society, was apparently banished from hers. Thevirtues and qualities of the most excellent creatures are mingled withthings opposed to them: all men partake of this clay from which theyderive their origin, and God alone is perfect.... In short it may besaid that at this time all greatness, all glory, and all gallantry wereconcentrated in the family of Bourbon, of which the Prince de Condé wasthe illustrious head, and that fortune was not considered a desirablething if it did not emanate from their hands. "

But, unhappily, frivolous pastimes, of a nature both innocent anddangerous, now wholly engrossed Madame de Longueville. She wassurrounded by all the prosperities and all the felicities of this life. Everything conspired in her favour, or rather against her--the triumphsof mind as well as those of beauty, the continually increasing glory ofher paternal house, the intoxication of her vanity, the secretpromptings of her heart. The trial was too much for her, and shesuccumbed to it. In the enchanted circle in which she moved, more thanone adorer attracted her attention; and one of them succeeded in winningher affections, according to all appearances, at the close of 1647, orat the commencement of 1648. She was then about twenty-nine. 

François, Prince de Marsillac, without being very handsome, was wellformed and very agreeable. As De Retz says, he was not a warrior, although he was a very good soldier. What distinguished him especiallywas his wit. Of this he possessed an infinite fund, of the finest andmost delicate. His conversation was gentle, easy, insinuating; and hismanners were at once the most natural and most polished. He had a loftyair. In him vanity supplied the place of ambition. At an early age heshowed a fondness for distinction and for intrigues. Profoundly selfish, and having succeeded in acquiring a knowledge of himself, and inreducing to theory his nature, his character, and his tastes, he set outwith very contrary appearances, and those chivalrous manners affected bythe _Importants_. One of his first connections, as we have seen, waswith Madame de Chevreuse, who secured him to Queen Anne. When the deathof Louis XIII. Had placed the supreme authority in her hands, heimagined that his fortune was made. He sought successively variousimportant offices which the Queen could not grant, whatever liking shemight have entertained for him. Having tried several schemes and failedin all, the Queen applied herself to soothing his disappointments, bybehaviour so tender as to retain him, as would now be said, in amoderate opposition, and keep him from taking part in the violence ofBeaufort. He was not then covered with the disgrace of the _Importants_, though he shared it to a certain extent; and he did not cease to be, orseem to be, very much attached, not to the government, but to the personof the Queen. He looked continually for some great favour at her hands. These favours not arriving, he determined to procure throughintimidation what his self-seeking fidelity had not been able to securefor him. 

It was during this state of his feelings that he met Madame deLongueville, on her return from Munster, surrounded by the most earnestadmirers. The Count de Miossens, afterwards Marshal d'Albret--handsome, brave, full of wit and talent, as enterprising in love as in war--waspaying her a very zealous court. La Rochefoucauld persuaded Miossens, who was one of his friends, that, after all, if he should overcome theresistance of Madame de Longueville, it would only be a victoryflattering to his vanity, whilst that he, La Rochefoucauld, would beable to turn it to a very good account. This was certainly a veryconvincing and heroic reason for falling in love! We, however, do nomore than transfer, with the utmost exactness, a statement made byRochefoucauld himself, which we will now quote word for word: "So muchunprofitable labour and so much weariness, finally gave me otherthoughts, and led me to attempt dangerous ways in order to testify myhostility to the Queen and Cardinal Mazarin. The beauty of Madame deLongueville, her wit, and the charms of her person, attached to her allwho could hope for her favour. Many men and women of quality strove toplease her; and besides all this, Madame de Longueville was then uponsuch good terms with all her house, and so tenderly beloved by the Duked'Enghien, her brother, that the esteem and friendship of this princemight be counted upon by any one who enjoyed the favour of his sister. Many persons vainly attempted this game, mingling other sentiments withthose of ambition. Miossens, who afterwards became Marshal of France, persisted in it longest, but with similar success. I was one of hisintimate friends, and he told me his designs. They soon fell to theground of themselves. He saw this, and told me several times that he wasabout to renounce them; but vanity, which was the strongest of hispassions, prevented him from telling me the truth, and he professed toentertain hopes which he had not, and which I knew that he could nothave. Some time passed in this way; and, finally, I had reason tobelieve that I could make a more considerable use than Miossens of thefriendship and confidence of Madame de Longueville. I made him believeit himself. He knew my position at Court; I told him my views, declaringthat my consideration for him would always restrain me, and that I wouldnot attempt to form a connection with Madame de Longueville without hispermission. I will even confess that I irritated him against her inorder to obtain it, without, however, saying anything untrue. Hedelivered her over entirely to me, but he repented when he saw theresult of that connection. "[2]

 [2] Petitot Collection, vol. Li. P. 393. 

When, subdued at length by the passion shown for her by LaRochefoucauld, Madame de Longueville had determined to respond to it, she gave herself up to him wholly--devoting herself in everything to theman whom she dared to love. She made it a point of honour, as doubtlessit was a secret happiness, to share his destiny and to follow himwithout casting one backward glance--sacrificing to him all her privateinterests, the evident interest of her family, and the strongestsentiment of her soul, her tenderness for her brother Condé. 

The truthful Madame de Motteville, after noting the principal motivewhich urged La Rochefoucauld in his pursuit of Madame de Longueville, adds: "In all that she has since done, it is clearly seen that ambitionwas not the only thing that occupied her soul, and that the interests ofthe Prince de Marsillac there held a prominent place. For him she becameambitious, for him she ceased to love repose; and in order to showherself alive to this affection, she became too insensible to her ownfame.... The declarations of the Prince de Marsillac, as I have alreadysaid, had not been displeasing to her; and this nobleman, who wasperhaps more selfish than tender, wishing through her to promote his owninterests, believed that he should inspire her with a desire of rulingthe princes her brothers. "[3]

 [3] Mad. De Motteville, vol. Ii. P. 17. 

Such being the sordid motives of her wooer, the oft-repeated lines, therefore, which he wrote with his own hand behind a portrait of theDuchess must be construed with a considerable abatement of their poeticardour:--

 "Pour meriter son coeur, pour plaire à ses beaux yeux, J'ai fait la guerre aux rois, Je l'aurais faite aux dieux. "[4]

 [4] At a later period, after he had lost his sight from a pistol-shot received at the combat of the Porte St. Antoine during the Fronde, and had quarrelled with the Duchess, he parodied his own distich, --

 "Pour ce coeur inconstant, qu'enfin Je connais mieux, J'ai fait la guerre au roi; J'en ai perdu les yeux. "

Such a dissembler then was the coldly ambitious, egotistical, cleverDuke de la Rochefoucauld--a man capable of sacrificing everybody to hisown interests. Madame de Longueville, such as we have depicted her, could not help being the instrument of a man of like character. M. Cousin seems to have arrived at that conclusion, since, in designatingthat princess as _the soul of the Fronde_, he acknowledges "that shetroubled the state and her own family by an extravagant passion for oneof the chiefs of the _Importants_, become one of the chiefs of theFronde. " But M. Cousin is very nearly silent touching the Prince deConti, of whom the Duchess was the sole motive-power on all occasions, and he merely says that this young prince submitted to be led by hissister in order to stand upon an equal footing with his elder brotherwhilst waiting for a cardinal's hat. 

Armand de Bourbon, Prince de Conti, born in 1629, was eighteen years ofage in 1647. He had good intellect and a not unpleasant countenance; buta slight deformity and a certain feebleness of constitution renderinghim unfit for the army, he was early destined for the church. He hadstudied among the Jesuits at the college of Clermont with Molière, andhis father had obtained for him the richest benefices, and demanded acardinal's hat. While waiting for this hat dignity, Armand de Bourbonwas living at the Hôtel de Condé, partly an ecclesiastic, partly a manof the world, passing his days with wits and men of fashion, and greedyof every species of success. The glory of his brother filled him withemulation, and he dreamed himself of warlike exploits. When his sisterreturned from Germany, he went to meet her, and, dazzled by her beauty, her grace, and her fame, he began to love her rather as a gallant thanas a brother. He followed her blindly in all her adventures, in whichhe exhibited as much courage as volatility. When he had made his peacewith the Court--thanks to his marriage with a niece of Mazarin, thebeautiful and virtuous Anne-Marie Martinozzi--he obtained thecommand-in-chiefship of the army of Catalonia, in which capacity heacquitted himself with great honour. He was much less successful inItaly. On the whole, he was far from injuring his name, and he gave toFrance, in the person of his young son, a true warrior, one of the bestpupils of Condé, one of the last eminent generals of the seventeenthcentury. Constrained, through ill-health, to betake himself again toreligion, the Prince de Conti finished, where he had begun, withtheology. He composed several meritorious and learned works on variousreligious subjects. 

In 1647, he was entirely devoted to vanity and pleasure. He adored hissister, and she exercised over him a somewhat ridiculous empire, whichcontinued during several years. 

CHAPTER III. 

 THE DUCHESS DE CHEVREUSE DRIVEN INTO EXILE FOR THE THIRD TIME. 

WHEN in the summer of 1644, the Queen of England, the fugitive consortof Charles I. , sought an asylum in France from the fury of the Englishparliamentarians, and went to drink the Bourbon waters, Madame deChevreuse eagerly desired to see once more that illustrious princess, who had so warmly welcomed her when herself an exile, at the Court ofSt. James's. Queen Henrietta, too, who like her mother, Marie de'Medici, as well as the Duchess, was of the Spanish and Catholic party, would have been delighted to have mingled her tears with those of so oldand faithful a friend. But the royal exile did not deem it right to giveway to her inclination without Queen Anne's permission, who at thatmoment was according her such noble hospitality. Anne of Austriapolitely replied that the Queen, her sister, was perfectly free to actas she chose; but it was intimated to her, through the Chevalier deJars, that it was inexpedient to receive the visit of a person who, through misguided conduct, had forfeited Her Majesty's favour. Thisfresh disgrace, added to so many others, increased the Duchess'sirritation to the highest pitch. She redoubled her efforts to break theyoke that oppressed her. Mazarin watched and was made acquainted withall her manoeuvres. He had the comptroller of her household arrestedin Paris, and shortly afterwards even her physician, whilst accompanyingMadame de Chevreuse's daughter in her carriage for an airing. TheDuchess complained bitterly of this latter proceeding in a letter whichshe contrived to have handed to the Queen. She asserted thatMademoiselle de Chevreuse was forced to quit the vehicle, two archerslevelling their pistols at her breast, and shouting all thewhile--"Fire! fire!" and they threatened, after the same fashion, thefemale attendants who were with her. At the same time that she protestedher own innocence, she did not fail to challenge Anne's sense ofjustice, with a view to neutralize the enmity of Mazarin. But thephysician whom he had had arrested, on being flung into the Bastile, made avowals which opened up traces of very grave matters; and an exemptof the King's guards was despatched to Madame de Chevreuse with an ordercommanding her to retire to Angoulême, and the officer was even chargedto convey her thither. At Angoulême was that strong fortress used as astate prison, in which her friend Châteauneuf had been confined on heraccount for ten long years. This reminiscence, ever present to theDuchess's imagination, terrified her sorely. She dreaded lest it shouldbe the same sort of _retreat_ which they now intended for her; and theactive-minded woman, preferring every kind of extremity to beingimprisoned, decided upon renewing the career of a wanderer and anadventurer, as in 1637, and to tread for the third time the wearisomepaths of exile. 

But how greatly were circumstances then changed around her, and howchanged was she also herself! Her first exile from France in 1626, hadproved one continuous triumph. Young, lovely, and adored by every one, she had quitted Nancy, leaving the Duke de Lorraine a slavehenceforward to the sway of her charms, only to return to Paris andtrouble the mind of the stony, impassive Richelieu. In 1637 her flightinto Spain had, on the contrary, proved a most severe trial to her. Shehad been forced to traverse the whole of France disguised in maleattire, brave more than one danger, endure much suffering and privation, only to struggle in the sequel with five consecutive years of fruitlessagitation. But, at any rate, she then had youth to back her, and theconsciousness of the power of that irresistible fascination whichprocured her adorers and suitors wherever she wandered, even among theoccupants of thrones. She had faith likewise in the Queen's friendship, and a firm reliance that the time would come when that friendship wouldrepay her for all her devotedness. But now age she felt was creepingupon her; her beauty, verging towards its decline, promised herhenceforward conquests only few and far between. She perceived that inlosing her power over Anne of Austria's heart, she had lost the greaterportion of her prestige both in France and Europe. The flight of theDuke de Vendôme, shortly about to be followed by that of the Duke deBouillon, left the _Importants_ without any chief of note. The Duchesshad found Mazarin to be quite as skilful and formidable an enemy asRichelieu. Victory seemed to have entered into a compact with him. DeBouillon's own brother, Turenne, solicited the honour of serving him, and the young Duke d'Enghien won battle after battle for him. She knewalso that the Cardinal had that in his hands wherewith he could condemnand sentence her to incarceration for the rest of her days. When, however, almost every one forsook her, this extraordinary woman did notgive way to self-abandonment. As soon as the exempt Riquetti hadsignified to her the order of which he was the bearer, she adoptedmeasures with her accustomed promptitude, and, accompanied by herdaughter Charlotte, who had hastened to her mother and refused to quither, she succeeded in reaching by cross-roads the thickets of La Vendéeand the solitudes of Brittany; until, approaching within a few leaguesof St. -Malo, she solicited an asylum at the hands of the Marquis deCoetquen. That noble and generous Breton gave her the hospitality whichwas due to such a woman struggling against such adversity. Marie deRohan did not abuse it; and after placing her jewels in his hands forsafety, as she had formerly done in those of La Rochefoucauld, [1] sheembarked with her daughter in the depth of winter at St. -Malo, on boarda small vessel bound for Dartmouth, whence she purposed crossing over toDunkirk and entering Flanders. But the English parliamentarianmen-of-war were cruising in the Channel. They fell in with and capturedthe wretched little bark, and carried her into the Isle of Wight. ThereMadame de Chevreuse was recognised; and as she was known to be a friendof the Queen of England, the Roundheads were not loth to subject her tosufficiently rough treatment; and afterwards hand her over to Mazarin. Fortunately, in the Governor of the Isle of Wight, she met with theEarl of Pembroke, whom she had formerly known. The Duchess appealed tohis courtesy, [2] and thanks to his good offices, she obtained--but withno little difficulty--passports which permitted her to gain Dunkirk, andthence the Spanish Low Countries. 

 [1] Subsequently, she requested the Marquis de Coetquen to hand over her jewels to Montrésor, who transferred them to a messenger of the Duchess. But Mazarin was informed of everything from first to last. He was aware of every tittle of the Duchess's correspondence, and tried to seize with the strong hand the famous gems which had formerly belonged to Marie de' Medicis' favourite foster-sister, Leonora Galligaï, created Marchioness d'Ancre. On the murder of the Marshal d'Ancre, these diamonds and _parures_, valued at two hundred thousand crowns, with a vast amount of other property confiscated by an edict of Louis XIII. , were bestowed by the king on his lucky favourite, De Luynes, the first husband of Marie de Rohan. Failing in his attempt to possess himself of these costly gems, Mazarin arrested Montrésor, and kept him upwards of a year in prison. See "Memoirs of Montrésor. "

 [2] See her letter to the Earl of Pembroke, dated Isle of Wight, 29th April, 1645, in "Archives des Affaires Étrangères, France, " t. Cvi. P. 162. 

The adventurous exile took up her abode for a short time at Liège, andapplied herself to maintain and consolidate to the utmost degreepossible between Spain, Austria, and the Duke de Lorraine, an alliance, which was the final resource of the _Importants_, and the last basis ofher own political reputation and high standing. Mazarin, however, havinggot the upper hand, resumed all Richelieu's designs, and, like him, madestrenuous efforts to detach Lorraine from his two allies. The gay Dukewas then madly enamoured of the fair Beatrice de Cusance, Princess ofCantecroix. Mazarin laboured to gain over the lady, and he proposed tothe ambitious and enterprising Charles IV. To break with Spain and marchinto Franche-Comté with the aid of France, promising to leave him inpossession of all he might conquer. The Cardinal succeeded in winningover to his interest Duke Charles's own sister (the former mistress ofPuylaurens), the Princess de Phalzbourg, then greatly fallen from herformer "high estate, " and who gave him secret and faithful account ofall that passed in her brother's immediate circle. Mazarin required ofher especially to keep him apprised of Madame de Chevreuse's slightestmovement. He knew that she was in correspondence with the Duke deBouillon, that she disposed of the Imperial general Piccolomini by meansof her friend Madame de' Strozzi, and even that she had preservedintact her sway over the Duke de Lorraine, in spite of the charms of thefair Beatrice. By the help of the Princess de Phalzbourg he watchedevery step, and disputed with her, foot to foot, possession of thefickle Charles IV. , sometimes the victor, but very often the vanquishedin this mysterious struggle. 

The advantage remained with Madame de Chevreuse. Her ascendancy overCharles IV. --the offspring of love, surviving that passion, but morepotent than all the later loves of that inconstant Prince--retained himin alliance with Spain, and frustrated Mazarin's projects. By degreesshe became once more the soul of every intrigue planned against theFrench Government. She did not always attack it from without, butfostered internal difficulties, which, like the heads of the hydra, wereunceasingly springing forth. Surrounded by a knot of ardent andobstinate emigrants, among others by the Count de Saint-Ybar, one of themost resolute men of the party, she kept up the spirits of the remnantof the _Importants_ left in France, and everywhere added fuel to thefire of sedition. Actuated by strong passion, yet mistress of herself, she preserved a calm brow amidst the wrack of the tempest, at the sametime that she displayed an indefatigable activity in surprising theenemy on his weak side. Making use alike of the Catholic and theProtestant party, at times she meditated a revolt in Languedoc, or adescent upon Brittany; at others, on the slightest symptom of discontentbetrayed by some person of importance, she laboured to drive outMazarin. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 FATAL INFLUENCE OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE'S PASSION FOR LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. --THE FRONDE. 

WE do not propose to enter into the labyrinth of intrigues whichpreceded the outbreak of the Fronde, but confine ourselves to anendeavour to trace the motives which led Madame de Longueville to throwherself into the centre of the malcontents and to figure as the chiefheroine in the varied scenes of that tragi-comedy of civil war. 

The first Fronde was formed out of the _débris_ of the _Importants_. Itwas composed of all the malcontents who made common cause with thosemembers of the parliament who were irritated by the frequent bursaledicts, notably that which, in 1648, created twelve new appointments of_maîtres de requêtes_. 

And now what gave birth to the Fronde, or what sustained it? What rousedup the old party of the _Importants_, stifled for some years, it wouldseem, under the laurels of Rocroy? What separated the princes of theblood from the Crown? What turned against the throne that illustrioushouse of Condé, which, until then, had been its sword and shield? Therewere doubtless many general causes for all this; but it is impossiblefor us to conceal one--private, it is true, but which exercised apowerful and deplorable influence--the unexpected love of Madame deLongueville for one of the chiefs of the _Importants_, who had becomeone of the chiefs of the Fronde. Yes--sad to say--it was Madame deLongueville, who, joining the party of the malcontents, attractedthereto, at first, a part of her family, then her entire family, andthus precipitated it from the pinnacle of honour and glory to which somany services had elevated it. 

Scarcely had the treaty of Münster suspended the scourge of foreign warfor France, than internal dissensions began to trouble the realm. Thehatred which the Parliament bore to Mazarin, through his repression ofits functions, primarily gave birth to civil war. The Duchess deLongueville became in the faction of the Fronde what the Duchess deMontpensier had been in that of the League. The former, however, did notat first attach so great an importance to the cause she espoused. Characteristically careless, she was by nature little inclined toagitation and intrigue. We have already shown that before her _liaison_with La Rochefoucauld, Madame de Longueville had been a stranger topolitics. Occupied solely with innocent gallantry and the homage of themost refined society of the day, she allowed herself in all else to beled by her father and her elder brother. But no sooner was LaRochefoucauld master of her heart, than she gave herself wholly up tohim, and became a mere instrument in his hands. Having been by himinspired with ambition, she made it a point of honour, and doubtless asecret happiness, to share his destiny. 

It seems not improbable that the Duchess might have caught a liking forpolitics and negotiation during the conference of Munster. Certain it isthat once plunged into the eddying tide of the Fronde, she loftilyannounced the project of remedying the general disorder of affairs. Butshe especially desired to employ therein the means which confercelebrity, and it is difficult to deny that ambition, although withoutdeterminate aim, and the desire of establishing a high opinion of herintellect, may have had some share in the reasons which induced her toembrace the party opposed to Mazarin. With herself she drew her husbandinto it, as well as the Prince de Conti, her younger brother. As for theelder, the victorious Condé, he at first declared for the King and theQueen-Regent, which greatly incensed his sister against him, and causedher to enter into close compact, amongst others, with the Coadjutor, afterwards Cardinal de Retz--that mischievous man who figured soconspicuously as the evil genius of the Fronde. 

The Gondis, who were the chief advisers of the St. Bartholomew, owed tothat terrible exploit the result of being very nearly the hereditarypossessors of the Archbishopric of Paris. But this last Gondi--JohnFrancis Paul--owed something more: to be at the same time governor ofParis, and to unite both powers. With such purpose, he artfully workedupon the city through the curates who, distributing bread, soup, andevery other kind of alms, carried along with them the famished masses. This young ecclesiastic of the de Retz family had risen into greatfavour with the serious and religious sections of the Parisiancommunity. He was nephew of the Archbishop of Paris, and was himselfArchbishop of Corinth; but as his flock in that metropolitan city wereschismatic (except those who had turned Turks), he had leisure to assisthis uncle in his high office, and was appointed his Coadjutor andsuccessor. He preached at all the churches, held visitations at theconvents, catechised the young, and consulted with the senior clergy onthe management of the diocese. When he rode through the streets he wassaluted with cheers and blessings, and the orators of the Fronde heldhim up as the pattern of all the Christian virtues. At night he put offhis episcopal robes, disguised himself as a trooper or tradesman, andattended the meetings of the discontented. In a short time he haddistributed seven or eight thousand pounds in stirring up the passionsof the people, and was daily in expectation of being summoned by hispatroness the Queen to exert his influence in quelling them. Thepopulace, with an Archbishop-governor of Paris at their head, imaginedthat they were going to rule there as in the time of the League. Thismade them both blind and deaf to the morals and manners of the littleprelate. A braggart, a duellist, and more than a gallant--though havingswarthy, ugly features, turned-up nose, and short, bandy legs--yet hisexpressive eyes carried off every fault, sparkling as they were withintelligence, audacity, and libertinage. Few withstood this subtleknave, for he was wont to waive all ceremonial and spare everybodyprefatory speeches. The ladies of gallantry--especially those whoselover he was--were his most indefatigable political agents. The Queen, at length, suspecting that the worthy Archbishop was not quite thesimple and self-denying individual he appeared, had him watched andfollowed. Whilst he flattered himself with the anticipation that hisassistance would be solicited at the Palais Royal, the Queen was makinga jest of him, and Mazarin determined to strike the blow. 

On the 27th of August, 1648, a vast assemblage crowded the spaciousprecincts of Notre Dame, to celebrate a _Te Deum_ for the great victoryof Lens, of which the youthful Condé had just sent home the news. Whenthe multitude were dispersing, a dash was made upon two or three of theobnoxious councillors who had inflamed the discussions of theFronde--for that civil war was fairly on foot ere Anne of Austria andMazarin knew of its existence. Two of the intended prisoners escaped, but a surly, burly demagogue, named Broussel, was tracked to his housein the mechanics' quarter of Paris, and arrested by an armed force. Thereupon the populace rose and armed against the Court. They made anextraordinary stand in the streets, having raised _twelve hundred_barricades in the course of twelve hours. They had no further need of DeRetz. It was, however, one of his mistresses, the sister of a presidentand wife of a city captain, who having in her house the drum belongingto the citizen guard of that quarter, gave the first impulse by causingit to be beaten. The train was thus fired and the flame of civil warkindled. This was called the _Day of the Barricades_. 

Thus, the royal power which, as wielded by Richelieu, had come tobe considered as absolute, was attacked by three partiessimultaneously--the great nobles, the parliamentarians, and the_bourgeoisie_; but, notwithstanding the dread of the common enemy, whichunited them, those parties were of different origin and conditions ofexistence, and consequently had different interests also. The greatnobles wished to exercise power by placing themselves above the law; theparliament to increase its own through the law; the citizens toestablish theirs at the expense of the law: for in their eyes the lawwas full of abuses and the royal power cruelly oppressive. All threeparties, in order to arrive at their several ends, had, therefore, recourse to violence, or derived aid from it. 

On the return of Madame de Longueville from Münster, there was already aferment in the minds of the Parisians, of which the Regent took littleheed. The Fronde cabal was then brooding in the dark. When therebellion, formed by Gondi, broke out at last under the circumstancesjust narrated, Madame de Longueville, alone of all the princesses of theblood, did not accompany Anne of Austria in her flight to Rueil. TheDuchess strove her utmost to strengthen, by the concurrence of herentire family, the faction whose fortunes she had embraced throughdevotion to Marsillac. She did not, however, then succeed in detachingCondé from the Regent's party. The battle of the barricades followedclose upon that of Lens, Condé's last victory. On his return, thatvictorious young soldier found royalty humiliated, the Parliamenttriumphing and dictating laws to the Crown; the Duke de Beaufort, withwhom he once thought of measuring swords in defence of the honour of hissister, freed from his prison in Vincennes, and master of Paris by aidof the populace who idolized him; the vain and fickle Abbé de Retztransformed into a tribune of the people; the Prince de Conti into ageneralissimo; M. De Longueville under the guidance of his wife and LaRochefoucauld; and the feeble Duke d'Orléans fancying himself almost aKing, because he saw the Queen humiliated, and because the Frondeurs, cunningly flattering his self-love, were treating him like a sovereign. Condé, at a glance, saw the situation of affairs and his duty also; andwithout any hesitation he offered his sword to the Queen. 

Brother and sister were, therefore, about to be arrayed against eachother in the strife of civil war, and a stormy explanation took placebetween them. It is asserted that for some time back their reciprocaltenderness had suffered more than one interruption; that, in 1645, Madame de Longueville had crossed the loves of her brother andMademoiselle du Vigean; that, in 1646, Condé, seeing her too intimatewith La Rochefoucauld, had caused her to be summoned to Münster by herhusband. But for this we have only the authority of the Duchess deNemours, her step-daughter and unsparing censor, and nothing is lessprobable. The passion of Condé for Mademoiselle de Vigean extinguisheditself, as all contemporaries affirm. The attentions of La Rochefoucauldto Madame de Longueville may have preceded the embassy of Münster, butthey were not observed until 1647, and it is at the close of this yearthat Madame de Motteville places them, while attributing them especiallyto the desire of La Rochefoucauld to share the confidence of the sisterwith the brother. But it is very certain that as soon as the latterremarked this connection, he disapproved of it entirely; and notsucceeding in his effort to rouse his sister from the intoxication of afirst passion, he passed from the most ardent affection to a bitterdiscontent. In the autumn of 1648, on his return from Lens, thisconnection had acquired its greatest strength, and become almostnotorious. Madame de Longueville, directed by La Rochefoucauld, did theneverything possible to gain over her brother. She brought all herallurements to bear upon him, all her fondlings. She put into playeverything which she thought might influence his fickle and passionatedisposition--but failed. Neither did he succeed in gaining over her hisaccustomed ascendency. They quarrelled and separated openly. Madame deLongueville plunged more deeply into the Fronde, and Condé appliedhimself to giving the new _Importants_ a harsh lesson. 

The Queen had retired to Saint-Germain with the young King and all thegovernment. Paris was under the absolute control of the Fronde. Itstirred up the Parliament by the aid of a few ambitious councillors andby seditious and mischievous inquests. It disposed of a great part ofthe Parisian clergy through the Coadjutor of the Archbishop De Retz, whopossessed and exercised all the authority of his uncle. It hadcontinually at its head the two great houses of Vendôme and Lorraine, with two princes of the blood, the Prince de Conti and the Duke deLongueville, followed by a very great number of illustrious families, including the Dukes d'Elbeuf, de Bouillon, and de Beaufort, and otherpowerful nobles. It gave law in the _salons_, thanks to a brilliant bevyof pretty women, who drew after them the flower of the young nobility. In short, the army itself was divided. Turenne, with his troops, whowere stationed near the Rhine until the perfect conclusion of the treatyof Westphalia, obedient to the suggestions of his elder brother, theDuke de Bouillon, who wished to recover his principality of Sedan, hadjust raised the standard of revolt, and was threatening to place theCourt between his own army and that of Paris. The parliament of thecapital had sent deputies to all the parliaments of the kingdom, and wasthus forming a sort of formidable parliamentary league in the face ofmonarchy. Condé took command of all the troops that remained faithful, and everywhere opposed the insurrection. He wrote himself to the army ofthe Rhine, which well knew him, and which after the rout sustained byTurenne at Mariendal, had been led back by him to victory: theseletters, supported by the proceedings of the government, succeeded inarresting the revolt; and Turenne, abandoned by his own soldiers, wasobliged to fly to Holland. [1] At ease on this head, Condé marched uponParis, and placed it under siege. Instead of disputing the ground, ashe might have done, foot by foot, with the sedition, he allowed it thefreest course, in the certainty that the spectacle of licentiousnesswhich could not fail to appear would, little by little, restore toroyalty those who had for a moment gone astray. He began by summoning, in the Queen's name and through his mother, all his family toSaint-Germain. The Prince de Conti and M. De Longueville did not daredisobey; but La Rochefoucauld, seeing that the Fronde was in thegreatest peril, hastened after these two princes. Having brought themback to Paris, he made the Prince de Conti generalissimo--placing underhim the Dukes d'Elbeuf and de Bouillon--and who shared authority withthe Marshal de la Mothe Houdancourt, governor of Paris. Madame deLongueville excused herself to the Queen and to her mother on thegrounds of her delicate condition, which would not permit her toundertake the least fatigue. In fact, Madame de Longueville, it may benoted, was _enceinte_ for the last time in 1648, when, it must beconfessed, her connection with La Rochefoucauld was well known. It wasin this condition that, willing to share the perils of her friends, proud also of playing a part and of filling all the trumpets of fame, she enacted Pallas as well as she was able. It is at least certain thatshe shared all the fatigues of the siege, that she was present at thereviews of the troops, at the parades of the citizen soldiery, and thatall the civil and military plans were discussed before her. In thisdisorder and confusion, amidst the tumult of arms and vociferations ofthe insurrection, she appeared as if in her natural element. Sheencouraged, counselled, acted, and the most energetic resolutionsemanated from her. The memoirs of the times are full, in regard to this, of the most curious details. The Hôtel de Longueville was continuallyfilled with officers and generals; nothing was seen there but plumes, helmets, and swords. 

 [1] "History of Turenne, " by Ramsay, vol. Ii. 

Notwithstanding all this, the democratic spirit which had originated theFronde was not satisfied. It beheld with displeasure all the forces ofParis in the hands of the brother, of the brother-in-law, and of thesister of him who commanded the siege. Believing very little, and withreason, in the patriotism of the princes, the citizens demanded somesureties from the chiefs who might at any time betray them, and makepeace, at their expense, with Saint-Germain. No one seemed to know howto appease this clamorous multitude, without which nothing further couldbe done. It was then that Madame de Longueville showed that, if she hadforgotten her true duties, she had retained the energy of her race andthe intrepidity of the Condés. Under the advice of De Retz, she inducedher husband to present himself to the Parliament and inform them that hehad come to offer his services, as well as the towns of Rouen, Caen, Dieppe, and the whole of Normandy, of which he was governor; and hebegged the Parliament to consent that his wife and two children shouldbe lodged at the Hôtel de Ville as a guarantee for the execution of hisword. His speech was received with acclamations; and while thedeliberations were still going on, De Retz proceeded to seek the Duchessde Longueville and the Duchess de Bouillon, both prepared to act a partin the scene he proposed to display. He had already caused the proposalof the Duke de Longueville to be spread amongst the populace; andhurrying the two princesses into a carriage, dressed with studied andartful negligence, but surrounded by a splendid suite, and followed byan immense crowd to the principal quarter of the insurrection--the Hôtelde Ville--those lovely and interesting women were placed in the handsof the people as hostages with all that was most dear to them. "Imagine, " says De Retz, "these two beautiful persons upon the balconyof the Hôtel de Ville; more beautiful because they appeared neglected, although they were not. Each held in her arms one of her children, whowere as beautiful as their mothers. " La Grève was full of people, evento the house tops; the men all raised cries of joy, and the women weptwith emotion. De Retz, meanwhile, threw handfuls of money from thewindows of the Hôtel de Ville amongst the populace, and then, leavingthe princesses under the protection of the city, he returned to thePalais de Justice, followed by an immense multitude, whose acclamationsrent the skies. 

On the night of the 28th of January, 1649, Madame de Longueville gavebirth to her last child, a son, who was baptized by De Retz, having forits godfather the Provost, for its godmother the Duchess de Bouillon, and who received the name of Charles de Paris; the child of the Fronde, handsome, talented, and brave; who during his life was the troublesomehope, the melancholy joy of his mother, and the cause of her greatestgrief in 1672, when he perished, at the passage of the Rhine, by theside of his uncle, Condé. 

The Prince de Conti being declared _generalissimo of the army of theKing, under the parliament_, and the Dukes de Bouillon and Elbeuf, withthe Marshal de la Mothe, generals under him, De Retz saw the fullfruition of his intrigues. A civil war was now inevitable. The great andthe little, the wise and the foolish, the rash and the prudent, thecowardly and the brave, were all engaged and jumbled up pell-mell onboth sides; and the mixture was so strange, so heterogeneous, and soincomprehensible, that a sentiment of the ridiculous was irresistiblyparamount, and the war began amongst fits of laughter on all sides. Thatsame day Condé's cavaliers came galloping into the faubourgs to firetheir pistols at the Parisians, whilst the Marquis de Noirmoutier wentforth with the cavalry of the Fronde to skirmish with them, andreturning to the Hôtel de Ville, entered the circle of the Duchess deLongueville, followed by his officers, each wearing his cuirass, as hecame from the field. The hall was filled with ladies preparing to dance, the troops were drawn up in the square, and this mixture of blue scarvesand ladies, cuirasses and violins and trumpets, formed, says De Retz, aspectacle much more common in romances than anywhere else. 

The serio-grotesque drama of the Fronde was thus initiated. 

CHAPTER V. 

 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE WINS HER BROTHER CONDÉ OVER TO THE FRONDE. 

THIS first raising of bucklers by the Frondeurs was not of longduration. At the conclusion of a peace between Mazarin and theParliament, a perfect understanding prevailed amongst all the members ofthe Condé family. The civil dissensions, however, were sufficientlyprolonged to exhibit the errors of all parties--even those who hadentered therein with virtuous inclinations and intentions, ashamed ofthe stains which had tarnished them in the struggle, almost invariablyended by confining themselves to the narrow circle of individualinterests, and completed their degradation by no longer recognizing anyother motive for their conduct than that of sordid selfishness. All carefor the public weal became extinct; men's hearts were insensible to allgenerous sympathy; their minds dead to every elevating impulse--like tothose aromatics which, after diffusing both glow and perfume from theirardent brazier, lose by combustion all power of further rekindling, andpresent nothing else than vile ashes, without heat, light, or odour. 

The peace concluded between the Minister and the Fronde was destined tobe of short duration. It was, properly speaking, nothing but asuspension of arms, and in no degree a suspension of intrigues andcabals. That suspension of arms, however, had been accompanied by anamnesty, including all persons except the Coadjutor. The other chiefpersonages who had played a part in the insurrection of Paris, and whonow proceeded to visit the Court, were by no means warmly received bythe Queen, though Mazarin himself displayed nothing but mildness andhumility. The Duke d'Orleans and the Prince de Condé visited the city;and the first was received with much enthusiasm by the populace, whoattributed to his counsels the truce of which all parties had stood somuch in need. The Prince de Condé, whose warlike spirit had not onlyaided in stirring up the strife at first, but would have protracted itstill further had his advice been listened to, was not looked upon withthe same favour by the Parisians; but the Parliament sent deputations tothem both on their arrival in the city, to compliment them on theirefforts for the restoration of peace. 

During Condé's visit to Paris, a reconciliation took place between himand his fair sister, the Duchess de Longueville. The violent language hehad used to her on various occasions, the imputations he had cast uponher character, and the harsh nature of the advice which he had given toher husband concerning her, were all forgotten, and she resumed herascendancy over his mind so completely as in a very short time to detachhim entirely from the side of Mazarin, and to lead him, before hequitted Paris, to speak publicly of the Minister in the scornful andcontemptuous manner in which he was usually treated by the leaders ofthe Fronde. 

The Duchess de Longueville herself remained as strongly opposed to theCardinal as ever. But though she still retained towards Anne of Austriathat dislike which she had always felt, and which the sense of aninferiority of station greatly augmented in a woman of a haughty andambitious character, she found herself obliged, in common propriety, toappear at Court on the conclusion of the Siege of Paris. The firstvisits of her husband and herself, after the insurrection, were renderedremarkable by the extraordinary degree of embarrassment and timidityshown by two such bold and fearless persons. The Duke de Longuevillearrived first, coming from Normandy; and was followed by a very numerousand splendid train, as though he rested for mental support upon thenumber of his retainers. The Queen received him in the midst of herCourt, with Mazarin standing beside her; and every one crowded round tohear what excuses the Duke would offer for abandoning the royal familyat the moment of their greatest need. Longueville, however, approachedthe Regent with a troubled and embarrassed air, attempted to speak, became first deadly pale, and then as red as fire, but could not utter aword. He then turned and bowed to Mazarin, who came forward, spoke tohim, and led him to a window, where they conversed for some timetogether in private; after which they visited each other frequently, andbecame apparent friends. 

The reception of the proud and beautiful Duchess at St. Germain, thoughnot so public, was not less embarrassing. The Queen had lain down on herbed when the Duchess was announced, and, as was customary in those days, received her in that situation. Madame de Longueville was naturally veryapt to blush, and the frequent variation of her complexion addedgreatly, we are told, to the dazzling character of her beauty. Herblushes, however, on approaching the Queen, became painful; all that shecould utter was a few confused sentences, of which the Queen could notunderstand a word, and those were pronounced in so low a tone thatMadame de Motteville, who listened attentively, could distinguishnothing but the word _Madame_. 

As there was no sincerity in these reconciliations, it is not surprisingto find that ere long the conduct of the Prince de Condé gave no slightuneasiness to Mazarin. The Prince had, however, brought back the Courtto Paris; but from that very day he had shown a great change in hisattitude, and it is to the influence of La Rochefoucauld that suchchange must be attributed. At that moment, in fact, the Sieur Condé hadbecome reconciled with every member of his family, and even with hissister's lover. He drew closer also the links between himself and theDuke d'Orleans, for whom he shewed great deference, say hiscontemporaries, and he began to treat Mazarin with much indifference, rallying him publicly, and declaring aloud that he regretted to havemaintained him in a post of which he was so little worthy. Enjoying agreat military reputation, feared and esteemed by the bulk of hiscountrymen, he chafed at seeing himself compromised by the unpopularityof the Cardinal. He thought that by drawing closer to the _Frondeurs_, he should rid himself of the feeling that oppressed him. In the outset, he had no idea of actively joining that faction, but his sister did therest, and hurried him on to become the enemy of that party of which hehad just been the saviour. 

It is true that, for the memorable service which he had recentlyrendered, Condé reaped scarcely any benefit; but his noble conductincreased the splendour of his last campaign of 1648. It added to hismilitary titles those of defender and saviour of the throne, ofpacificator of the realm, of arbiter and enlightened conciliator ofparties. It gave the climax to his credit and to his glory. Nevertheless, he did not lose sight of the jealous feeling to whichsuch claims gave birth, whether on the part of the Duke d'Orleans or thePrime Minister; and he well knew that he was exposed to one of those_coups d'état_, the necessity of which the Chancellor as well as himselfhad urged at Rueil. He considered himself as the head of the nobility, and that important body seemed to constitute all the military power ofthe State. But the French nobility was just beginning to lose its formerindependence of character in becoming more courtierlike. Instead ofderiving from its strongholds and vassals the feeling of its strengthand equality, it showed itself ambitious of such distinctions as themonarch could confer. In the indulgence of its vanity it lost sight ofits proper pride; and if that new emulation which the Bourbons hadexcited was more easy for the sovereign to satisfy, it was moredifficult for the chief of a party to direct. Moreover, Condé, as theDuchess de Nemours remarks, knew better how to win battles thanhearts. [1] He found a dangerous pleasure, as did his sister the Duchessde Longueville, in braving malevolence. "In matters of consequence, theydelighted to thwart people, and in ordinary life they were soimpracticable that there was no getting on with them. They had such ahabit of ridiculing one, and of saying offensive things, that nobodycould put up with them. When visits were paid to them, they allowed sucha scornful ennui to be visible, and showed so openly that their visitorsbored them, that it was not difficult to understand that they dideverything in their power to get rid of their company. Whatsoever mightbe the rank or quality of the visitors, people were made to wait anylength of time in the Prince's antechamber; and very often, after havinglong waited, everybody was sent away without getting an interview, however short. When they were displeased they pushed people to theutmost extremity, and they were incapable of showing any gratitude forservices done them. Thus they were alike hated by the Court, by theFronde, and by the populace, and nobody could live with them long. AllFrance impatiently suffered their irritating conduct, and especiallytheir pride, which was excessive. "[2]

 [1] Duchesse de Nemours, tom. , xxxiv. P. 437. 

 [2] The Duchess de Nemours was a daughter of the Duke de Longueville, by his first wife, and as she lived with her step-mother, the Duchess de Longueville, on very indifferent terms, her unsparing censure must by no means be implicitly received. 

In looking at the faulty side of Condé's character, we must not forgetto observe the disinterested firmness with which, without consideringeither his family or his friends, he had hitherto acted in the interestsof the King. Happy would it have been, if, after having thus terminatedthis sad civil war, he had quitted the Court and its intrigues to seekother battlefields, and to finish another war somewhat more useful andglorious to France--that which still remained with Spain! Happy, alsofor Madame de Longueville, if, taught by her own conscience, in her lastinterview with the Queen, and by the shameful _dénouement_ of themiserable intrigues of which she had the secret, instead of stillserving as their instrument, she had shown her courage in resistingthem. Happy too, if, after all the proofs of devotion which she had justgiven to La Rochefoucauld, she had firmly represented to him that, evenfor his own interest, a different course was necessary; that it would bebetter to look for fortune and honours by rendering himself esteemedthan by trying to make himself feared; that ambition as well as dutyshowed his place to be by the side of Condé, in the service of theState and of the King; that it was easy for him to obtain in the armysome post where he would simply have to march forward and do his duty, trusting to his courage and his other merits!

But even if Anne de Bourbon had been wise enough to speak thus to LaRochefoucauld, she would not have succeeded in gaining his ear. Hisrestless spirit, his ever-discontented vanity, pursuing by turns themost dissimilar objects, because it selected none within its reach--that_undefinable something_ which, as De Retz says, was in La Rochefoucauld, made him abandon the high and direct roads, and led him into by-pathsfull of pitfalls and precipices. Through such perilous ways we shall seethe infatuated woman following and aiding him in his extravagant andguilty designs. Receiving the law instead of giving it, she strives topromote the passion of another by devoting to his service all hercoquetry as well as greatness of soul, her penetration and intrepidity, her attractive sweetness and indomitable energy. She undertakes tomislead Condé, to rob France of the conqueror of Rocroy and of Lens, andto give him to Spain. 

CHAPTER VI. 

 THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO THE _COUP D'ÉTAT_--THE ARREST OF THE PRINCES. 

IN the first scenes of the shifting drama, the Court had supported Condéin compassing the destruction of the Frondeurs; and Mazarin, with keenpolicy, instigated the Prince to every act that could widen the breachbetween him and the faction. Whichever succeeded, the party thatsuccumbed would be inimical to the Minister; and in their divisions washis strength. But the pride and impetuosity of Condé were about thistime excited to such a degree by opposition and irritation, that itapproached to frenzy, and, unable to overpower at once the leaders ofthe Fronde, the vehemence of his nature spent itself upon those who werein reality supporting him. He still scoffed at, and openly insulted, Mazarin; he accused the Government of not giving him sincere assistanceagainst the Fronde. He every day made enemies amongst the nobility byhis overbearing conduct and his rash, and often illegal, acts; and atlength the disgust and indignation of the whole Court was roused to puta stop to a tyranny which could no longer be borne. 

Anne of Austria long hesitated as to what she should do to deliverherself from the domination of a man whom she feared without loving: butat length an aggravated insult to herself, and the counsels of a womanof a bold and daring character, removed her irresolution. The Duchessde Chevreuse had been exiled from France, as we have seen, during thegreater part of that period in which Condé had principally distinguishedhimself, and she did not share in the awe in which the Parisians heldhim. She still kept up what De Retz calls an incomprehensible union withthe Queen, notwithstanding all her intrigues; nor did she scruple tohold out to Anne of Austria a direct prospect of gaining the support ofthe Fronde itself in favour of her Government, if that Government wouldaid in avenging the Fronde upon the Prince de Condé. 

Anne of Austria was unwilling to take a step which appeared to borderupon ingratitude, although the late conduct of the Prince might well besupposed to cancel the obligation of his former services. It seems herenecessary to say a few words upon the connection of a series of suddenpolitical changes, in order that the reader may understand how suchstartling results as those we are about to narrate were brought about. 

The hollow treaty of peace of the 11th March, 1649, had scarcely beensigned ere the Prince de Condé showed himself day by day more stronglyattached to the faction which opposed the Court. Feeling his ownimportance, determined to rule; quick, harsh, and impetuous in hismanners, he took a pleasure in insulting the Minister and embarrassingthe Queen. There were some personal grounds for this in the strongdislike manifested towards his sister by Anne of Austria. That feelingwas signally shown on the occasion of Louis XIV. Completing his eleventhyear; when a grand ball was given at the Hôtel de Ville, at which theyoung King, with all the principal members of the royal family and theCourt, were present. The Queen's orders were received with regard to allthe arrangements, every person of distinction being invited by hercommand, except the Duchess de Longueville. That princess, influenced bydiscontent, it is supposed, at the reception of the royal family inParis, had remained at Chantilly, on the pretence of drinking somemineral waters in the neighbourhood. The Queen seized the same pretextnot to invite her, replying to those who pressed her to do so, that shewould not withdraw her from the pursuit of health; but at length thePrince de Condé himself, demanded that she should receive a summons; andhis support was of too much consequence, and the bonds which attachedhim to the Court too slight, for the Queen to trifle with his request. 

To the surprise and dissatisfaction of most persons, however, Anne ofAustria commanded that the ball should take place in daylight;acknowledging, in her own immediate circle, that it was in order tomortify the ladies attached to the Fronde, the principal part of whomemployed methods of enhancing their beauty and heightening theircomplexion to which the searching eye of day was very inimical. Humanmalice, of course, took care that the Queen's motive should becommunicated to all the higher circles of Paris; and as vanity is notonly a more pugnacious passion, but a much more pertinacious adversarythan any other, the words of Anne of Austria rendered many opponentsirreconcilable, who might otherwise have been gained to her cause: thefamily of the Prince de Condé naturally being among the number. 

France was then able to count the cost of having created ahero--_expendere Hannibalem_--a prince _à la Corneille_, who carried hisgaze to the stars, and only spoke to mortals from the summit of histrophies. His sister, Madame de Longueville, had also in the samefashion soared into the sphere of a goddess. The one and the other, inthe empyrean, no longer distinguished their fellow mortals from such aheight save with a smile of disdain. Great folks, as a contemporarytells us, kicked their heels in their antechambers for hours, and, whengranted an audience, were received with yawning and gaping. 

The reconciliation effected during the preceding year was rather, as hasbeen said, a truce between the parties than a solid peace. TheParliament had retained the right of assembling and deliberating uponaffairs of state, which the Court had sought to prevent: and Mazarinremained Minister, although the Parliament, the people, and even theprinces, had desired that he should cease to hold that office. It rarelyhappens to states in like unfortunate emergencies that among the men whoshow themselves most active and skilful in overthrowing a governmentthere are found those capable of conducting one; and when such doappear, the chances almost always are that circumstances hinder themfrom placing themselves in the front rank. It was to Gaston, the King'suncle, Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, that belonged, in concert withthe Regent, the chief direction of affairs; but Gaston felt himself tooweak and too incapable to pretend to charge himself with such a burden. He could never arrive at any decision, and took offence when any matterwas decided without him. Jealous of Mazarin's influence, more jealousstill of that of Condé, neither of the two could attempt to govern alongwith him; and nevertheless Gaston was powerful enough to command aparty, and to hinder any one from governing without him: ready to offeropposition to everything, but impotent to carry anything into execution. If Anne of Austria had even consented to dismiss her favouriteMinister, and overcome her repugnance to the Fronde and the Frondeurs, she could not have formed a government with the chiefs of that party. The Duke de Beaufort, its nominal head, lacked both instruction andintelligence. De Retz, its veritable chief--an eloquent, witty, and boldman, skilful in the conduct of business, in the art of making partisans;brave, generous, even loyal when he followed the impulses of his ownmind and natural inclination--was without faith, scruple, reticence, orforesight when he abandoned himself to his passions, which urged himunceasingly to the indulgence of an excessive and irrationallibertinage. Such a man could not have replaced him who for so long aperiod had informed himself of the affairs of France under a master suchas Richelieu; who, deeply versed in dissimulation, was inaccessible toany sentiment that might possibly derange the calculations of hisambition. Besides, he, as well as Mazarin, would have had the Princesagainst him, and could not have resisted successfully their numerouspartisans. De Retz had, through the ascendancy of his talents, greatinfluence with the Parisian Parliament, but it mistrusted him; and thatbody, in its heterogeneous composition, offered rather the means for anopposition than strength to the Government. Condé, to whom the stateowed its glory, and the Sovereign his safety, was therefore the soleprop upon which Anne of Austria might have rested; but that young herohad no capacity for business. He could not then have filled up the voidwhich Mazarin's retirement would have created. Condé, whose naturalpride was still further exalted by the flattery of the young nobles whoformed his train, and who obtained the nickname of _petits maîtres_, only used the influence which his position gave him to wring fromMazarin the places and good things at his disposal, and of these he andhis adherents showed themselves insatiable. Thus, Condé rendered himselfformidable and odious to Mazarin, and made himself detested by thepeople as Mazarin's supporter, at the same time that by his arrogance heshocked the Parliament, already unfavourably disposed towards him onaccount of his rapacity and his ambition. [1]

 [1] Talon, mém. T. Lxii. Pp. 65-105. --Montpensier. 

Such was the state of things, when the singular circumstances whichattended the murder of one of Condé's domestics made that prince believethat the chiefs of the Fronde had conspired to assassinate him. Hethought, by such a crime, to have found an opportunity for crushing thatfaction in the persons of its chiefs, and he instituted a process inparliament against the contrivers of that murder. Public reportparticularly pointed to two persons, De Retz and Beaufort; and Condé, byhis accusation, hoped to force them to quit Paris, where they foundtheir principal means of influence in the populace. But in attackingthus, as it were, face to face, the two most popular men of the moment, Condé showed no better tact than in dealing with the Prime Minister. Heconducted himself with so much haughtiness and arrogance, that the youngnobles who surrounded the soldier prince, when they wished to flatterhim, spoke of Mazarin as his slave. [2]

 [2] Motteville, mém. T. Xxxix. P. 4. --Guy-Joly. 

The process went on nevertheless. Almost all the judges were convincedof the innocence of the accused, but Condé pretended that they could notbe absolved without giving a deadly affront to himself. He demanded thatat the very least the Coadjutor and Beaufort should be made to quitParis under some honourable pretext, and the Princess-Dowager de Condédeclared that it was the height of insolence in them to remain in thecapital when it was her son's wish that they should leave it. The Queen, who equally detested the Prince de Condé and the Frondeurs, couldscarcely conceal her joy at seeing them at daggers drawn with eachother; feeling certain that the moment was at hand when theirdissensions would restore her supremacy. 

Under such circumstances Condé had need of all his friends, but heconsidered that he was set at defiance, and he gave way all the more tohis wonted pride and overbearing obstinacy. He seemed to take pleasurein offending Anne of Austria and Mazarin. The young Duke de Richelieuhad been declared heir to an immense fortune, of which his aunt andguardian, the Duchess d'Aiguillon, was the depositary. The stronghold ofHavre de Grâce, which the Cardinal de Richelieu had formerly held as aplace of retreat, was by such title in the possession of the Duchessd'Aiguillon. Condé desired to be master of it, either for himself or forhis brother-in-law, the Duke de Longueville. The young Duke de Richelieuwas engaged to be married to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, but the Princehaving remarked that he had some liking for Madame de Pons, a sister ofhis own first love, managed to marry him clandestinely to her in theChâteau de Trye, lent him two thousand pistoles until he should be ofage to enter upon possession of his property, and made him takepossession of Havre de Grâce. The Queen was mortally offended at such aproceeding on the part of Condé, who had moreover threatened to throwinto the sea those she might send to Havre to seize the fortress; butthe Duchess d'Aiguillon's resentment was still deeper and more active. She was the first to tell Anne of Austria, that she would never be queenagain until she had had the Prince de Condé arrested, assuring her thatall the Frondeurs would lend their hands to aid her in carrying out sucha resolution. 

Almost at this moment, a gentleman named Jarzé, attached to Condé, foolishly took it into his head that the Queen entertained a liking forhim, and it reached her ears that Condé and his friends had amusedthemselves whilst at table over their wine with Jarzé's revelations ofhis amour with her, and that he had begun to feel certain of getting ridof Mazarin by that means. Mazarin himself probably became somewhatalarmed, as he spoke pointedly to the Queen on the subject, whopretended only to have contemplated the ridiculous side of her newadorer's gallantries. But when Jarzé next made his appearance in hercabinet, she rated him roundly before the whole Court upon his absurdfatuity, and forbade him ever to enter her presence again. The Prince deCondé, pretending to feel hurt at the affront put upon Jarzé, early nextmorning paid the Prime Minister a visit, and insolently demanded thatJarzé should be received that very evening by the Queen. Anne of Austriasubmitted to his dictation, but could not endure such humiliationwithout seeking to avenge herself. In a woman's heart every otherspecies of resentment yields to that of wounded pride. A few linesaddressed to the Coadjutor in the Queen's own handwriting, and carriedby Madame de Chevreuse, brought to her side that wily priest andformidable tribune, disguised _en cavalier_. Certain negotiations, however, which had preceded this interview, had reached the ears ofCondé, who went to Mazarin to denounce the treachery. The Cardinal, glowing with a hatred which would have stopped at nothing for itsgratification, laughed and jested, or flattered and soothed the objectof his concealed wrath. He turned the Archbishop of Corinth intoridicule when Condé blamed him for his duplicity. "If I catch him, " saidthe Cardinal, "in the disguise you speak of--in his feathered hat, andcloak, and military boots--I will get a sight of him for your Highness;"and they roared at the idea of discovering the intriguer in so unfittingan apparel. But shortly afterwards in the wintry gloom of a Januarymidnight (1650), disguised beyond the reach of detection, and guarded bya passport from the Cardinal himself, De Retz was admitted at midnightby a secret door into the Regent's room at the Palais Royal, and deepconference was held between the two. The conditions of agreement werereadily stipulated. The Coadjutor with an inconceivable address and mostextraordinary success handled the threads of the intrigues consequentupon such agreement. He succeeded in making himself the confidant ofGaston; he made him renounce his favourite, the Abbé de la Rivière; heengaged him in the coalition which had been just set on foot between theCourt and the Fronde, and he obtained his assent to the arrest of thePrinces. Everything succeeded that was agreed upon. The Queen-Regent, atthe moment of a council being held at the Palais-Royal, gave the fatalorder, and then withdrew into her oratory. There she made the young Kingkneel down beside her in order to invoke Heaven in concert with herselfto obtain the happy achievement of an act of tyranny which was destinedto produce fresh woes to the realm, and to rekindle in it the flames ofcivil war. 

On the morrow of the 18th of January, 1650, all Paris was electrified atthe news of the arrest of the three Princes--Condé, Conti, andLongueville. That bold _coup d'état_ was effected very easily andunceremoniously. The Princes went voluntarily, as it were, into themouse-trap, by attending a great council at the Palais Royal. Anne hadobtained from Condé an order for the seizure and detention of three orfour persons whose names were left in blank; and on the authority of hisown signature, the hero of Rocroy and the other two princes, were ledquietly down a back stair, given over to the custody of a small escortof twenty men under the command of Guitaut and Comminges, and by themconducted during the night to Vincennes. 

CHAPTER VII. 

 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE'S ADVENTURES IN NORMANDY. THE WOMEN'S WAR. 

THE heroes having thus suddenly disappeared from the scene, thepolitical stage was left clear for the performance of the heroines. Weare now about to see the women, almost by themselves, carry on the civilwar, govern, intrigue, fight. A great experience for human nature, afine historical opportunity for observing that gallant transfer of allpower from the one sex to the other--the men lagging behind, led, directed, in the second or third ranks. But those women of rank, young, beautiful, brilliant, and for the most part gallant, were doubtless moreformidable to the minister at this juncture than the men. The two lovelyduchesses, De Longueville and De Bouillon, having shown during thepreceding year of what they were capable; the Queen therefore gaveorders for their arrest. The wary lover of the fascinating politicianwho had lately begun to scatter her blandishments equally upon all--LaRochefoucauld--having been apprised by the captain of his quarter thatsome blow was meditated by Mazarin, had sent twice to warn the Princesthrough the Marquis de la Moussaye, but who, as it appears, failed toacquit himself of that important mission. But if La Rochefoucauld'swarning failed to reach the ears of the Princes, he was more fortunatein effecting the escape of Madame de Longueville. Whilst they wereseeking to arrest him as well as La Moussaye, the Queen despatched anote to the Duchess by the Secretary of State, La Vrillière, begging herto come to the Palais Royal. Instead of going thither she went direct tothe Hôtel of the Princess Palatine--like herself beautiful, gallant, andintriguing, but endowed with a superior intellect. This lady speedilybecame the head and mainspring of the princes' party--or of the _second_Fronde, and the Coadjutor, who directed the Old Fronde, was fain torecognise in her a worthy rival, and his equal in political sagacity. Fearing to be discovered if she remained under the roof of the princess, a carriage was procured, and the duchess driven in it by LaRochefoucauld himself to an obscure house in the Faubourg St. Germain, where they remained until nightfall in a cellar. Thence the Duchess andher lover set out for Normandy on horseback under the escort of fortydetermined men provided by the Princess Palatine. Brave and resolute asher brother, the sister of Condé rode northwards through that entirewinter's night and the following day, and sought no shelter until wornout with excessive fatigue she reached Rouen. But the commandant, theMarquis de Beuvron, although an old friend of the duke, declared hecould not serve her, and refused to raise the banner of revolt in thatstronghold of her husband's government. Her attempt at Rouen thusreceiving a complete check, she had some hope of being received into thecitadel of Havre, but the Duchess de Richelieu, though her friend, wasnot so much mistress there as the Duchess d'Aiguillon, who, on thecontrary, was full of resentment against her. Discouraged and repulsedon all hands, the fugitive Duchess next made her way to Dieppe, whereshe thought herself in sufficient safety to part with La Rochefoucauld, who left her to assist the Duke de Bouillon to raise troops inAngoumois. In the fortress of Dieppe, commanded by a faithful officer ofher husband, Madame de Longueville found the rest she so much needed. Ina brief space, with spirits recruited, she resolved to make a stand tothe uttermost against the Queen and Mazarin, and having replaced theroyal standard by that of Condé set about putting the citadel in a stateof defence to resist a siege. The Queen, however, having resolved not togive the Duchess time to raise her husband's government of Normandy intorevolt, on the 1st of February quitted Paris for Rouen. The band ofgentlemen who had gathered round the beautiful Frondeuse thereuponmelted away, and Mademoiselle de Longueville, her step-daughter, afterwards Duchess de Nemours, quitted her to take refuge in a convent. As Montigny, the commandant at Dieppe, declared that it was impossibleto hold the fortress, the Duchess left the place by a secret portal, followed by her women and some few gentlemen. She held her way for twoleagues on foot along the coast to the little port of Tourville, inorder to reach a small vessel which she had prudently hired in case ofneed. On reaching the point of embarkation the sea was breaking sofuriously in surf on shore, the tide being so strong and the wind sohigh, that Madame de Longueville's followers entreated her not toattempt to reach the vessel. But the Duchess, dreading less the angrywaves than the chance of falling into the Regent's power, persisted ingoing to sea. As the state of the tide and weather rendered itimpossible for a boat to get near the shore, a sailor took her in hisarms to carry her on board, but had not waded above twenty paces when ahuge roller carried him off his feet, and he fell with his fair burden. For an instant the poor lady believed that she was lost, as in fallingthe sailor lost his hold of her and she sank into deep water. On beingrescued, however, she expressed her resolve to reach the vessel, but thesailors refusing to make another attempt, she found herself compelled toresort to some other means of escape. Horses being luckily procured, theDuchess mounted _en croupe_ behind one of the gentlemen of her suite, and riding all night and part of the following day, the fugitives metwith a hospitable reception from a nobleman of Caux, in whose littlemanor-house they found rest, refection, and concealment for the space ofa week. 

The Duchess's tumble into the sea, though a disagreeable, turned out tohave been a lucky accident, for she now learnt that the master of thevessel she had been so anxious to reach was in the interest of Mazarin, and had she gone on board she would have been arrested. At length Madamede Longueville found herself once more in Havre, and having won over thecaptain of an English ship to whom she introduced herself--like Madamede Chevreuse--in male attire, as a nobleman who had just been engaged ina duel, and was obliged to leave France, she succeeded in obtaining apassage to Rotterdam. Thence, passing through Flanders, she reached thestronghold of Stenay, [1] where the Viscomte de Turenne, alreadycompromised with the Court for having openly espoused the Condé party, had shortly before the Duchess's arrival also taken refuge. 

 [1] Stenay, taken from the Spaniards in 1641, had been given to the Prince de Condé in 1646. 

It was then that the Duchess, who, under the sway of La Rochefoucauld, had been one of the instruments of the first Fronde war, became themotive power of the second and far more serious one--well named by thewitty Parisians "the women's war. " From the citadel of Stenay, of whichshe took the command, she directed the wills and actions of the men ofher party, into which she thoroughly won over Turenne. Herimportunities, aided by her charms, prevailed so powerfully over hisvaliant though fallible heart, that the illustrious captain, afterhaving struggled painfully for some time with his conscience, alliedhimself with the Spaniards by a treaty which placed him, as well as thesister of the great Condé, in the pay of the enemies of his king andcountry. The treaty effectively stipulated "that there should be ajunction of the two armies, and that the war should be carried on by theassistance of the King of Spain until a peace should be concludedbetween the two kings and the princes liberated. That the King of Spainshould engage to pay over to Madame de Longueville and to Monsieur deTurenne two hundred thousand crowns wherewith to raise and equip troops;that he should furnish them with forty thousand crowns per month for thepayment of such troops, and sixty thousand crowns per annum in threepayments for _the table and equipages_ of Madame de Longueville andMonsieur de Turenne. " This treaty duly signed, Madame de Longuevilleissued, in the form of a letter to his Majesty the King of France, amanifesto very skilfully drawn up and filled with artful complaints andaccusations against Mazarin, with the design of soliciting through theone and the other an apology for her own conduct, as though it werepossible to justify herself for having entered into a compact with theenemies of her country. 

It was during her sojourn at Stenay that she lost her mother (2ndDecember, 1650). "My dear friend, " said the Princess de Condé to Madamede Brienne, who was with her during her last moments, "tell that 'pauvremiserable' who is now at Stenay the condition in which you have seen me, that she may learn how to die. "

During the whole of this period, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld gaveconstant proof of a rare fidelity. M. Cousin speaks very precisely onthis head. "Whilst Madame de Longueville was pledging her diamonds inHolland for the defence of Stenay, La Rochefoucauld expended his fortunein Guienne. It was the most grievous and, at the same time, the mosttouching moment of their lives and their adventures. They were far awayfrom each other, but they still fondly loved; they served with equalardour the same cause, they fought and suffered equally and at the sametime. " Abundant proofs might be instanced of this love and devotion ontheir part. La Rochefoucauld wrote unceasingly to Stenay, and gave anaccount of everything he did. "The sole aim, then, of all the Duke'sexertions, " says Lenet, "was to please that beautiful princess, and hetook endless care and pleasure to acquaint her with all he did for her, and to deliver the princess her sister-in-law (Condé's wife), bydespatching couriers to her on the subject. " He informs us moreoverthat, "in every juncture, he forwarded expresses to render account tothe Duchess of all that respect for her made him undertake. At thismoment, in fact, having just succeeded to his patrimonial estatesthrough the death of his father, La Rochefoucauld recognised no obstaclein his path, but bravely went forward in the cause he had espoused andgenerously sacrificed his property in Angoumois and Saintonge. Hisancestral château of Verteuil was even razed to the ground by Mazarin'sorders, and when the tidings of it reached him, he received them withsuch great firmness", says Lenet, "that he seemed as though he weredelighted, through a feeling that it would inspire confidence in theminds of the Bordelais. It was further said that what gave him theliveliest pleasure was to let the Duchess de Longueville see that hehazarded everything in her service. " It cannot be denied, in fine, thatthe Duke at that time yielded himself up to a sentiment as deep as itwas sincere, and which contradicts very happily and without any possibledoubt the assertion so often hazarded that he had never loved the womanwhom he had seduced and dragged into the vortex of politics. Madame deLongueville and he adored each other at this period, says M. Cousin, andit is pleasant to be able to cite the opinion of that eminent historianupon such fact; although separated by the entire length of France, theysuffered and struggled each for the other: they had the same aim, thesame faith, the same hope. They wrote incessantly to communicate theirthoughts and projects, and thus sought to diminish in imagination theenormous distance which is between Stenay and Bordeaux. 

BOOK IV. 

CHAPTER I. 

 THE PRINCESS PALATINE. 

THE arrest of the Princes had singularly complicated events on thepolitical stage. It had displaced all interests, and, instead ofre-uniting parties and consolidating them, it had the effect ofincreasing their number. No fewer than five might be counted, represented by as many principal leaders, around which were groupedevery species of interest and every shade of ambition. 

In the first place there was the party of Mazarin, alone against all therest. This party had for support the ability of its chief, theinvincible predilection, the unshakeable firmness of Anne of Austria, and the name of the King. Herein lay its whole strength, but thatstrength was immense. It was that which ensured the obedience of theenlightened and conscientious men who had great influence over the armyand the magistrature. These men adhered to the Prime Minister through asentiment of honour, and in consequence of their monarchical principles. Amidst the disruption of parties, they recognised no other legitimateauthority than that of the Queen Regent; but they desired as strongly, perhaps, as those of the opposite parties, that Mazarin should be gotrid of. That odious foreigner exposed them all to the public animositywhich pursued himself. Anne of Austria frequently employed the artificesof her sex to avert their opposition in council, and calm theirdiscontent. 

The party of the Princes, which the success of the enemies of France, during their captivity, rendered from day to day more popular andinteresting, was composed of all the young nobility. Of its apparentchiefs, the one alone capable of directing it was the Duke de Bouillon. But to lead a party it is necessary to identify oneself with it, anddevote oneself to it wholly; and the Duke de Bouillon had viewspeculiar, foreign, and even adverse to the interests of his party; andbefore such interest he placed that of the maintenance, or ratherelevation, of his own house. The Duchess de Longueville, the Princess deCondé, La Rochefoucauld, and Turenne had neither sufficient finesse norskill in intrigue to be able to direct that party and strugglesuccessfully against Mazarin; but they were seconded by three men who, although obscure, displayed in these circumstances extraordinary talent. Lenet, [1] who never quitted the Princess de Condé throughout thesetroubles, but served her faithfully with his pen and advice. Montreuil, who, although he had never published anything, was a member of theFrench Academy and secretary to the Prince de Condé. He managed, withinfinite address, and incessantly devising new means, to correspond withthe Princes, and bring the vigilance of their keepers in default. And itwas Gourville especially, who, after having worn the livery of the Dukede la Rochefoucauld as his valet, had become his man of business, hisconfidant, and friend. It was Gourville who, under a heavy expression ofcountenance, concealed a most subtle, most acute, and fertileintelligence. Persuasive, energetic, prompt, reflective; knowing how togain an end by the direct road; or, under the eyes of those opposing, attaining it unperceived, by covert and tortuous ways. A man who neverfound himself in any situation, however desperate it might be, withouthaving the confidence that he could extricate himself from it. Did thecleverest consider a position as lost? Gourville intervened, infusedhope, promised to lend a hand to it, and success was immediately certainand defeat impossible. 

 [1] His memoirs give reliable details of all that relates to the Condés at this period. 

Still Gourville was not, even on the score of ability, the foremostspirit of his party. The person who deserved that title was a woman--thecelebrated Anne de Gonzagua, widow of Edward Prince Palatine. Throughher proneness to gallantry, she did not escape the weakness of her sex;but through her imperturbable calmness in the midst of the most violentcommotions, her elevated views, the depth of her designs, the accuracyand rapidity of her resolutions, and her skill in making everythingconduce to a given end, she combined in its entire vigour the peculiarcharacter of the statesman with the soul of a conspirator. She had beenthrough life the intimate friend of the mother of Condé, and she nowlaboured with skill, wisdom, and perseverance for the liberation of thePrinces. And such is the ascendency obtained by talent backed by anenergetic will, that it was to her advice all the partisans of thePrinces deferred; her hand that held the threads of their variousintrigues. With her De Retz treated directly, and in the whole course ofthe negotiations she displayed a degree of penetration which baffled allthe subtlety of the Coadjutor; and while she foiled his devices againstherself, she directed them aright against their mutual opponents. By heractivity and energy five or six separate treaties were drawn up andsigned between the different personages whose interests were concerned, each in general ignorant of his comrade's participation. 

It would be presumptuous in any way to attempt, after Bossuet, a perfectportraiture of this lady, but it may be interesting to glance at theantecedents of her life up to this period. 

Charles de Gonzagua-Cleves, Duke of Mantua and Nevers, had, by hismarriage with Catherine of Lorraine, three daughters: the oldest, Maria, whom he preferred to the others, or rather that his pride sought toelevate her alone to the highest destiny possible, was marriedsuccessively to two Kings of Poland, Ladislas Sigismond and JeanCasimir. The second, Anne, who, as the Princess Palatine, became thepolitical opponent of Mazarin; and the third, Benedicte, who took theveil and died whilst yet very young at the steps of the altar. It is theromantic, agitated, and changeful existence of the second with which weare concerned: passed in tumult and ended in silence. In it may be foundthe invaluable lesson of that admirable antithesis afforded by error andrepentance. Bossuet, in his eloquent, fervent oration upon the life ofthat princess, was enabled to derive from a contemplation of it thehighest instruction. He has therein retraced, with an imposingauthority, the errors of a woman exclusively engrossed, during manyyears, with worldly interests and earthly vanities, and also made theemphatic denial that, in their last hours, such awakened minds butrarely give themselves up without profound anguish, fitful emotion, andmortal struggle to the contemplation of imperishable joys. Anne deGonzagua experienced those extremes. She passed from incredulity and anirregular life to the most lively faith and exemplary conduct. Captivated in turn by earth and heaven, worldly and scorning the world, sceptical and fervent, she had long centred her pride and happiness inthe political affairs of her epoch, until the day came when, weariedwith ephemeral pleasures and touched by grace, she finally renounced thethings of this life and gave herself wholly up to celestial meditation. 

In her earliest youth she had been placed in the convent ofFaremoustier, where nothing was neglected that could tend to inspire herwith a desire for cloister life. Her father, the Duke of Mantua, haddetermined that his two younger daughters, Anne and Benedicte, shouldhelp, by taking the veil, to augment the fortune of their elder sister. Benedicte submitted to her fate, but Anne soon perceived what herfather's plan was, and in her indignation she resolved to defeat it. Unlike her younger sister, she had an adventurous spirit, an ardentimagination, a strong desire to play an active part in life. Even towithdraw from a mode of existence that was hateful to her, she made herescape from Faremoustier, and went to confide to her sister's bosom, inthe convent of Avenai, her wrath, her _ennui_, and her hopes. For awhileit seemed as though conventual life was about to exercise a strangefascination over her. The discourse and example of her sister toucheddeeply the youthful heart which had proved rebellious to a parent'swill. It seemed not improbable that she would yield to persuasion thatwhich she had refused to compulsion. But her destiny determinedotherwise. Events cast her upon another course; her imperfect vocationyielded quickly to their influence. She had been worked upon, in thesolitude of the cloister, by that mysterious yearning for an encounterwith those struggles which human passions involve, the experience ofwhich can alone extinguish such yearning in certain souls. It wasnecessary that she should see the world, undergo its deceptions, and bewearied of it, in order to desire repose and be capable of appreciatingthe inestimable blessings of peace and silence and tranquillity. 

The Duke of Mantua dying in 1637, Anne was obliged to leave the cloisteron business connected with the paternal succession, and appeared atCourt with Marie, her elder sister. The turmoil of the world and itssensuous enjoyments speedily engrossed the young and lovely princess, involved her in their trammels, and only restored her to tranquillityand solitude after a lapse of many years; for at this time she also losther sister, the youthful abbess of Avenai, and the last link whichattached Anne to cloister life was severed by that death. An absorbingpassion, too, was destined to confirm her relinquishment of suchvocation. The youthful Henri de Guise was then one of the most brilliantgentlemen at the French Court. Grandson of the _Balafré_, his high birthfixed the eyes of all upon him, at the same time that his impetuousimagination, his profession, all the aristocratic follies of theday--remarkable duels, romantic loves, eccentricities, the adventuresand elegant habits of the _grand seigneur_--had constituted him anoracle of fashion and the hero of every festival. He was fascinated bythe grace and beauty of Anne de Gonzagua, and she herself, in the midstof that gallant Court which masked a real depravation under the thinvarnish of an ingenious subtlety of expression, --she herself, a discipleof the Hôtel de Rambouillet, where questions of sentiment werediscussed, studied, and analysed incessantly, knew not how to resist thegilded accents of a young, handsome, and impassioned lover. She let himsee that she loved him. He made her a promise of marriage, signed, it issaid, with his blood; and the affair seemed to promise a happyconclusion. But their mutual inclination was thwarted by Madame deGuise. The Duchess thought that the high dignities of the Church wouldprocure greater wealth, honour, and power for her son than he couldobtain in any other career: Henri was then Archbishop of Rheims. Nevertheless, he persisted in his love for Mademoiselle de Gonzagua, andin his design of espousing her. The overtures which he made to theVatican were not in vain. He received from the Pope, with theauthorisation to again become a layman, a dispensation which his kinshipto Anne rendered necessary for the celebration of their nuptials. Butthe lovers did not hasten to avail themselves of such privilege, apparently through dread of Richelieu, who was also opposed to theirunion. Perhaps that minister, from whom nothing secret was hidden--noteven the unshaped designs of the ambitious, --already suspected Henri deGuise of being favourably disposed to the interests of Spain, as well ascontrary to those of France. Anne and Henri, therefore, contentedthemselves with the possibility which the complaisance of the HolyFather had given them of contracting an indissoluble bond, and with theoath by which they reciprocally pledged their faith. Confiding in thehonour of the Prince whom she so ardently loved, Anne consented tofollow him, when he quitted France in order to escape from the espionageof Richelieu. Disguising herself in male attire, Anne rejoined her loverat Besançon, according to Mademoiselle de Montpensier, at Cologneaccording to other writers; where, as elsewhere, she caused herself tobe called "Madame de Guise"--writing and speaking of her husband, anddefying the assurances which were constantly advanced of the illegalityof a marriage secretly performed by a canon of Rheims in the privatechapel of the Hôtel de Nevers. But what are promises, marriage vows, oreven bonds written in blood?

Henri not long after became unfaithful to the confiding Anne by elopingwith a fair widow, the Countess de Bossut, whom he carried off toBrussels and ultimately married. Implicated in the conspiracy of theCount de Soissons, the turbulent churchman was present at the battle ofMarfée, and consequently declared guilty of high treason. He thereforetook up his abode in the Low Countries, where he quietly awaited thedeath of Louis XIII. And his minister, then both moribund, to resume hiscareer at the Court of France. 

Thus abandoned by her volatile lover, and extremely compromised, Mademoiselle de Gonzagua returned to Paris, where she reassumed theappellation of the Princess Anne. Her grief for awhile at herabandonment was great, but happily for Anne de Gonzagua, she waspossessed of youth, and, as Madame de Motteville tells us, "of beautyand great mental attractions. " She had moreover sufficient address toobtain a great amount of esteem, in spite of her errors. In a few years'time, during which she took care to avoid fresh scandal, whatever shemight have done "under the rose, " she made a tolerably good marriage. Her husband, her senior by two years only, was Prince Edward, CountPalatine of the Rhine, son of a king without a kingdom, --the electorFrederick, [2] chosen King of Bohemia in 1619, but who lost his crown in1620, at the battle of Prague. Prince Edward, therefore, having nosovereignty, lived at the French Court. In 1645, then, Anne de Gonzaguafound herself definitively settled at Paris, and it must be owned didnot give Henri de Guise much cause to regret his faithlessness. Theirregularities of the Princess Palatine became notorious, and assuredlyBossuet, in the funeral oration which he pronounced many years later, inthe presence of one of her daughters and other relatives, whilstdisplaying a prodigal eloquence, and a mastery over all oratoricalresource, made use of every artifice of speech, and all the elasticityof vague terms, in speaking of that period of her life without aviolation of propriety, without disguising truths known to all, withoutexceeding either in blame or praise the limits imposed by good tasteupon the reverend orator when he pronounces a panegyric upon those whonot unfrequently have very little merited it. 

 [2] This unfortunate Prince had married, in 1613, Elizabeth, daughter of James I. Of England. The celebrated Prince Rupert and Sophia, Electress of Hanover, were among the other children. 

During those stormy years of the civil wars, through her diplomatictalents, Anne de Gonzagua shone conspicuously in the front rank offemale politicians. One can readily imagine what must have been, not inthe first Fronde, all parliamentary as it was, but in the second, entirely aristocratic, in the Fronde of the Princes, the influence of awoman's mind at once so subtle and brilliant. It was then that Madame deChevreuse, Madame de Montbazon, Madame de Longueville, and Mademoisellede Montpensier, displayed upon the political stage the resources oftheir finesse, their dissimulation, or their courage. The Palatine didnot fall below the level of those adventurous heroines. In the midst ofthose intrigues, of that puerile ambition, of those turnings andwindings, perfidy, seduction, manoeuvring promises, of thosenegotiations in which Mazarin infused all his Italian cunning, the Queenher feminine impatience and her Spanish dissimulation, De Retz hisgenius of artist-conspirator, Condé his pride of the prince and theconqueror, Anne de Gonzagua handled political matters with a raresuppleness, humouring offended self-love, impatient ambition, haughtyrivalries, acting as mediatrix with a wonderful amount of conciliatorytact, the friend of divers chiefs of parties, and meriting theconfidence of all. 

It would be tedious to relate here her various negotiations, to go overher discourses, conversations, and numerous letters: it would involve ahistory of the Fronde, and that is not our subject. It will suffice tosay that she obtained the esteem of all parties at a time when partiesnot only hated but strangely defied each other, and that she manifesteda skill, a tact which Cardinal de Retz--a good judge of suchmatters--does not hesitate to praise with enthusiasm. "I do not think, "says he, "that Queen Elizabeth of England had more capacity forgoverning a state. I have seen her in faction, I have seen her in thecabinet, and I have found her in every respect equally sincere. " Thiseulogium may be perhaps a little over-coloured. But Madame deMotteville, who also greatly admired the Palatine, probably approachesnearer to the truth. "This princess, " she says, "like many other ladies, did not despise the conquests of her eyes, which were in truth verybeautiful; but, besides that advantage, she had that which was of morevalue, I mean wit, address, capacity for conducting an intrigue, and asingular facility in finding expedients for succeeding in what sheundertook. " Thus spoke the Coadjutor and the Court of her. Theparliamentary party, by the organ of the councillor Joly, confirms suchpanegyric: "She had so much intelligence, and a talent so peculiar forbusiness, that no one in the world ever succeeded better than she did. "The Princess Palatine's political dexterity cannot therefore becontested: the testimony of the most opposite camps are thereuponagreed, and it is certain that, without the least exaggeration, it maybe said that no one at that epoch, save Mazarin, better understood theresources of diplomacy. 

It was especially after the arrest of the Princes that her zeal andintelligence found occasion to manifest themselves. Madame deLongueville, as has been said, instantly sought the aid of Anne deGonzagua when she learned that her two brothers and her husband wereprisoners. The news made her swoon, and her despair was afterwardspitiable. The Princess Palatine was touched by it, and promised tooperate on behalf of the Princes. From that moment she became, withoutentering into faction and especially without failing in her dutiestowards a sovereign whom she loved, one of the most active friends ofthe prisoners. Meetings were held under her roof to deliberate upon thatimportant affair, and, to compass her ends, she contrived to bring intoplay the most varied resources. She began by interesting in the Princes'destiny those even who might have been thought the most irreconcileableenemies to them. However difficult this work was of accomplishment, shereunited, as in a fasces, in a single will, personages widely separatedupon other points, and surprised to find that they were pursuing thesame object, for none of them knew the motives which influenced theactions of the rest. On this head, Bossuet says, with somewhat excessivelaudation, she declared to the chiefs of parties how far she would bindherself, and she was believed to be incapable of either deceiving orbeing deceived. That is rather a hazardous assertion, for if she indeedaided in the liberation of the Princes, none of the promises shemade--in all sincerity doubtless--became realised. But, says Bossuetfurther, and this time with more precision, "her peculiarcharacteristic was to conciliate opposite interests, and, in raisingherself above them, to discover the secret point of junction and knot, as it were, by which they might be united. " She had resolved to win overthe Duke d'Orleans, Madame de Chevreuse, De Retz, and the keeper of theseals, Chateauneuf. She therefore signed with them four differenttreaties. With the Duke d'Orleans she promised the hand of the youngDuke d'Enghien in marriage to one of the Prince's daughters; to Madamede Chevreuse that of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse to the Prince de Conti;to De Retz, the cardinal's hat; to Chateauneuf, the post of primeminister. All consented to favour the princess's designs, and Mazarin, whom she could not convince, found himself surrounded by enemies whoseunion was formidable. That minister made allusion to the dread withwhich he was inspired when he remarked some years afterwards to DonLouis de Haro: "The most turbulent among the men does not give us somuch trouble to keep him in check as the intrigues of a Duchess deChevreuse or a Princess Palatine. " In vain, according to his wont, didhe again attempt to temporise. Anne de Gonzagua, who was ready to openfire with all her batteries, sought to terrify him by the perspective ofa menacing future. "She caused him to be informed that he was lost if hedid not determine upon giving the Princes their liberty, assuring himthat if he did not do it promptly he would see, in a few days, the wholeCourt and every cabal banded against him, and that all aid would failhim. " Mazarin, obstinate in his determination, and unwilling to believethat she had so thoroughly played her game as to hold in hand thethreads of so many intrigues, begged her to defer the matter, asked timefor reflection, and conducted himself in such a way in short that theprincess saw clearly that he only wanted to gain time. She thereforehesitated no longer, but allowed those who were agitating impatientlyaround her to commence action. 

The party of the Princes had been dubbed by the name of the _NewFronde_. The old, although it had lost its energy by its union with theCourt, preserved nevertheless its hatred to the prime minister. It wasnot in De Retz's power to neutralise wholly these hostile dispositions;but he could hinder them from being brought into dangerous activity. TheCoadjutor at first with that view acted in good faith, and remainedfaithful in the first moments of the agreement which he had entered intowith the Queen. Probably it might then have been possible to attach himfinally to the Court party; but Mazarin could not believe that theCoadjutor, so fertile in tricks, so full of finesse, was capable ofanything like frankness and generosity. In the practical experience oflife, mistrust has its perils as well as blind confidence, and failureas often happens to us through our unwillingness to believe in virtue, as through our inability to suspect vice. Mazarin judged after himself aman who resembled him in many respects, but not in all. Moreover, hefeared lest he might seek to win the Queen's affection from him; andthat fear was not groundless. De Retz saw himself the object of thesuspicions and afterwards of the machinations of a power which labouredat his destruction, whilst for that power he was compromising hisinfluence and his popularity. To reacquire it, he hastened, therefore, to throw himself with all his adherents on the side of the Princes, andsaw no safety but in their deliverance. This alliance of the two camps, so long enemies, was concluded between the Coadjutor and the PrincessPalatine, and rendered so firm and secret by the confidence with whichthese two party chiefs inspired each other, that Mazarin, whounceasingly dreaded such a union, and who always suspected it, did notknow it for certain until it revealed itself by its effects. [3]

 [3] Motteville--Joly--Lenet. 

The parliament formed a fourth party. Not that that body was unanimous;but it had within itself an honourable majority which was alike inimicalto the Frondeurs, the seditious, and the minister. The parliamenttherefore would have been disposed to unite itself to the Princes'party, and to lend it support; but to do so it would have been necessarythat the chiefs of that party should renounce all alliance with theforeigner. Turenne and Madame de Longueville had joined with theSpaniards to fight against France. The young Princess de Condé, with theDukes de Bouillon and de la Rochefoucauld, who had shut themselves up inBordeaux, had entered into an alliance with them, and had received fromthem succour in the shape of money. The Spanish envoys in Parisconferred daily with the chiefs of the old as of the new Fronde. 

Gaston, who might have been the moderator of all these parties, formedby himself a fifth among them. His irresolution prevented him givingstrength to any other of the factions, but he constituted a formidableobstacle to all the rest. His inclination, as well as his interest, should never have made him deviate from the Court party; yet he wasalways opposed to it. Impelled by his jealousy of Condé and of the primeminister, he acted in a manner contrary to his own wishes. He was, however, neither wanting in intelligence nor finesse, nor even a certainkind of eloquence; and the master-stroke of De Retz's address was tohave contrived, in furtherance of the object of his designs, to setGaston with the Fronde against the Princes, and afterwards for thePrinces against Mazarin. 

The complication and the multiplicity of parties was as nothing incomparison to that of private interests, which so crossed each other andin so many different ways, which turned with such mobility, that, in theignorance which prevailed of the secret motives of the principal actorsin that drama so vivid, motley, and turbulent, nothing could bepredicated of what they would do, and a looker-on might have beendisposed at times to have pronounced them as insensates, who were rathertheir own enemies than those of their antagonists. 

If the libels of those times are to be credited, and especially thesatire in verse for which the poet Marlet was sentenced to be hanged, the obstinacy with which the Queen exposed to danger her son's crown, byretaining a minister detested by all, would be naturally explained by areason other than that of a reason of state. The advocate-general Talon, Madame de Motteville, and the Duchess de Nemours exculpate Anne ofAustria on this head. They are three respectable and trustworthywitnesses; and, without any doubt, that which they said they thought. But the Duchess d'Orleans, Elizabeth-Charlotte, affirms in hercorrespondence[4] that Anne of Austria had secretly married CardinalMazarin, who was not a priest. She says that all the details of themarriage were known, and that, in her time, the back staircase in thePalais Royal was pointed out by which at night Mazarin reached theQueen's apartments. She observes that such clandestine marriages werecommon at that period, and cites that of the widow of our Charles theFirst, who secretly espoused her equerry, Jermyn. One might be disposedto think that the Duchess Elizabeth-Charlotte could have only followedsome tradition, and that her assertions cannot counterbalance thestatements of the contemporary personages above mentioned. But certainspecies of facts are often better known long after the death of thepersons to whom they relate, than during their lifetime, or at a timeclose upon their decease; they are not entirely unveiled until there nolonger exists any motive to keep them secret. Of the Queen's sentimentstowards Mazarin there can be no doubt after reading a letter which sheaddressed to him under date of June 30, 1660, which is extant inautograph, [5] the avowal she made to Madame de Brienne in heroratory, [6] the confidences of Madame de Chevreuse to Cardinal deRetz. [7] Moreover, whatever may have been the motives of Anne ofAustria's attachment to Mazarin, it is certain that they wereall-powerful over her. She lent herself to every project formed by herminister for the increase of his power and fortune. The war in Bordeauxwas kindled because Mazarin desired that one of his nieces should beunited to the Duke de Candale, son of the Duke d'Epernon; and, in ordernot to let the Swiss soldiers march thither without their pay, whentheir aid was most necessary, Anne of Austria put her diamonds inpledge, and would not allow Mazarin to be answerable for the sumrequired to be disbursed. 

 [4] Mém. Sur la Cour de Louis XIV. Et de la Régence, d'Elizabeth-Charlotte Duchesse d'Orléans, Mère du Regent. 1823, p. 319. 

 [5] MS. Bibliothèque Nationale. 

 [6] Loménie de Brienne, Memoirs, 1828. 

 [7] Retz, Memoirs, edition 1836. 

CHAPTER II

 THE YOUNG PRINCESS DE CONDÉ CONDUCTS THE WAR IN THE SOUTH. 

TO generous and feeling hearts, Condé's misfortune presented all thecharacteristics of a real romance. The majority of the women thereforewho meddled with politics were, through sympathy, of his party. Theglory of France under lock and key! The young hero arrested for treason, and prisoner to whom? The foreign Cardinal Mazarin. All the spoils ofthe Condés distributed amongst the _sbires_ of the favourite, --Normandyto Harcourt, Champagne to L'Hospital, &c. A monstrous alliance betweenKing and people. The Queen keeping the Bastille in the hands ofBroussel's son--the highest posts bestowed upon the magistrates--areversal, in fact, of everything. Did not the French nobility rise to aman against such a state of things?

No, everything was at a standstill. Neither Condé's military clients, nor his numerous seigniories, nor his governments took any active partwhatsoever. Far from it, Madame de Longueville, as we have seen, whothought to raise Normandy, everywhere met with a repulse in thatprovince. Neither Turenne nor she could do anything save by acceptingaid from Spain, for which Madame de Bouillon was also doing her best inParis. 

But whilst that lovely amazon, Condé's sister, was occupied in herendeavours to lure the hero of Stenay into the party of revolt byintoxicating him with love, and wasting time in negotiation and parade, a succour more direct and much more energetic was given to Condé from aquarter he had the least expected--from his own chateau of Chantilly. Hehad there left his aged mother, his young wife, and a son seven yearsold. Mazarin hesitated to have these ladies arrested, fearing the forceof public opinion. The mother went to hide herself in Paris, and onemorning appeared before the Parliament, suppliant, weeping sorely, stooping so far as to kneel in prayer, to flattery, and even tofalsehood. All being unavailing, she went home to die. 

But most astonishing was the unexpected courage of Condé's young wife, Claire Clemence de Maillé, that despised niece of Richelieu, whom thevictorious soldier had married under compulsion, and whose heir was theson of the minister's absolute will. On the arrest of her husband shehad been confided to the care of a man of capacity--Lenet, from whose"Memoirs" we have already cited. He at first conducted her and her sonin safety from Chantilly to Montrond, a stronghold of the Condés, butfearing to be besieged in it, straightway to Bordeaux. The Parliament ofGuienne had had a deadly quarrel with Mazarin for imposing upon themEpernon, a governor they detested, and whom the Cardinal was bent uponallying by marriage with his own family. Great therefore was the emotionof this city and parliament at seeing that young lady of two-and-twentyin deep mourning, with her innocent boy, who caught the brave Bordelaisby their beards with his little hands, and besought their help towardsthe liberation of his father. The Princess's retinue enhanced not alittle this favourable impression, formed as it was of high-born women, for the most part young and charming. 

The popular explosion was lively, as always happens among the people ofthe south. But even the narrative of Lenet shows clearly the slenderfoundation upon which this semblance of popular insurrection rested. Thelower orders, then living in great misery, hoped to obtain through thePrincess some opening for their foreign trade, which would better enablethem to dispose of their wines and help them to live. Mazarin kept downthe local Parliament, and carried everything through sheer terror. Bouillon and La Rochefoucauld, the Princess's advisers, recommended thata royal envoy should be cut to pieces. Lenet dreaded lest such an act, somewhat over-energetic, might render his mistress less popular. Twiceor thrice the populace were very nearly putting the Parliament to thesword, the majority of which was kept under through sheer terror of theknife. Spain promised money, and they had the simplicity to believe her. She hardly gave them a pitiful alms. Meanwhile, however, Mazarin, havingquietly occupied Normandy and Burgundy, made his way towards Guiennewith the royal army. The Bordelais showed an intrepid front, thoughsomewhat disquieted to see the soldiery about to gather the fruits ofthe vintage instead of themselves. The Princess only maintained herselfin the place through the aid of the rabble _va-nu-pieds_, who feastedand danced all night at her expense, and who shouted in her ears ahundred ribald jests against Mazarin, compelling both herself and herson to repeat them. This abasement into which she had fallen made herdesire peace for herself, and permission to leave the city, which wasgranted to her, with vague promises of liberating Condé (3rd October, 1650). 

The Duchess de Bouillon had been quite as ardent in politics during theburlesque activity of the Fronde as Madame de Longueville; and although, perhaps, equally beautiful, happily she was entirely devoted to herdomestic duties. Her husband on taking flight had been constrained toleave her behind in Paris, she being near her accouchement, whichcircumstance however did not prevent the Queen from giving an order forher arrest. Although the royal guards were already in the house, theDuchess contrived to effect the escape of her sons, and during that sameday gave birth to her babe. Shortly afterwards she found a means ofeluding the guard set over her, and would have rejoined her husband, hadher daughter not been attacked with small-pox, but having returned hometo nurse her, was arrested at her bedside and carried to the Bastille. The Duchess de Chevreuse, always gallant, in spite of waning beauty, constituted herself the mediatrix between the Queen and the _Frondeurs_;and although her daughter had openly become the mistress of theCoadjutor, it was already contemplated to make her the wife of thePrince de Conti, as a condition of the arrangement by which he should beset free. Beaufort still continued to be the obsequious lover of Madamede Montbazon, and, through her, Mazarin was kept well acquainted withall his secrets. 

No other power than that of female influence could have attached theFrench nobility to the Prince de Condé, and determined it to take uparms for his release. In fact, his hauteur, his brusquerie, hisbrutality even, had, in repeated instances, offended that body, and theQueen imagined that the bulk of the French gentry would witness hisarrest with as much pleasure as the citizens. But the women had beenfascinated by the _éclat_ of his four victories; they agreed to callhim the champion, the hero of France, and it seemed to them that theyshared his heroism in devoting themselves to his cause. As for thehigher nobility, they were not bound by any political principle; theywere very indifferent to the grandeur of France; very ignorant of itspretensions in foreign affairs, or to what it had been pledged withother nations. They loved war in the first place for its dangers, and inthe second for the honours and wealth they got by fighting; but even inthe army, far from making fidelity and obedience a rule of conduct, theycherished a spirit of independence and resistance to the Crown, andwould only allow themselves to be influenced by their chivalric usages. They gloried in showing themselves reckless of the future, caring moreabout the glitter of the present than steady progressive advancement;equally prodigal of fortune as of life, they were prone to followimpulse rather than calculation; so that what we should perhaps call areckless frivolity was looked upon by them as a sentiment invested withall the charm of brilliant gallantry. Those even whom neither theiraffection nor their interest summoned to the standards of the captivePrinces, rushed gaily from the midst of their ease and festivity intocivil war at the first prompting of their mistresses. 

Gaston d'Orleans, after having consented to the imprisonment of thePrinces, only decided upon entering into the project for theirdeliverance under promise of a marriage of his daughter, the Duchessd'Alençon, with the boy-Duke d'Enghien, Condé's son. Turenne and LaRochefoucauld, too, often thought less of their glory or the success oftheir party, than of what might be agreeable to the Duchess deLongueville, of whose love they were so envious. More obscure_liaisons_, which have even escaped the anecdotic abundance of thememoir-writers of those days, appear also to have exercised theirinfluence over the conduct of the highest personages. In a letter whichDe Retz wrote to Turenne, and which he frankly characterises as beingremarkably silly, the Coadjutor does not disguise that amongst manyserious motives which he gives that great warrior for inducing him todetermine upon peace, he does not forget to hold out a hope of hisseeing once more a little grisette of the Rue des Petits-Champs, whomTurenne loved with all his heart. The feeblest motives had influenceover such men, all young and ardent as they were--the followers ofdifferent factions, though without prejudices, principles, convictions, without hatred and without affection. The women therefore naturallyplayed important parts in all these events, to whom the species ofgallantry and worship of beauty held in honour by the Hôtel deRambouillet was quite familiar. Thus nothing could be expected of theDuke de Beaufort, even in that which concerned him closest, if notassured previously of the consent of the Duchess de Montbazon, whoexercised plenary power over him. Nemours, enamoured of the Duchess deChatillon, loved likewise by the Prince de Condé, warmly embraced thecause of that Prince, because his mistress prompted him thereto; and theDuchess de Nemours had moved heaven and earth to obtain Condé'sdeliverance, in the hope that he would keep sharp watch over the Duchessde Chatillon, and put a stop to her husband's infidelity. 

De Retz too, notwithstanding the superiority of his intellect, allowedhimself to give way, through his inclination for the fair sex, to thecommission of indiscretions and imprudences which often placed his lifein danger, and caused his best-concerted measures to prove abortive. Toappease the jealousy of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse he permitted himselfto make use of a contemptuous expression concerning the Queen, which wasrepeated, and which became the cause of the violent hatred she everafterwards bore him. The Princess de Guémenée, furious at having beenabandoned, offered the Queen, if she would consent to it, to procure thedisappearance of the Coadjutor by sending him an invitation, and thenhaving him confined in a cellar of her hotel. De Retz learned that adesign to assassinate him had been formed, and whenever he repaired tothe Hôtel de Chevreuse, by way of precaution placed sentinels outsidethe gate of that mansion, and quite close to the Queen's sentries whoguarded the Palais-Royal, without heeding the effect such an excess ofinsolence and scandal produced. With every kind of talent fitting todominate party spirit, he failed to acquire the confidence of anyone. Heregarded all alliance with the foreigner as odious and impolitic; andnotwithstanding, when his embarrassments increased, he lent an ear tothe Archduke's envoy, and even to that of Cromwell. At the same time, full of admiration for the Marquis of Montrose, whom he called a heroworthy of Plutarch, he contracted the closest friendship with theScottish royalist, and aided him to the utmost of his ability in theefforts he was making to restore to the throne the legitimate King ofGreat Britain. De Retz, in few words, appeared anxious to show himselfas taking pleasure in exhausting every kind of contrast. When theintricate plot of the drama in which he was engaged had become socomplicated by his intrigues, that he no longer saw the possibility ofunravelling it, he sought means to retire from the situation with thegreatest advantage practicable for himself and friends, and to obtainthe Cardinal's hat. The marriage of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse with thePrince de Conti became the essential condition of all the negotiationswhich he carried on, whether with the Court or with the Duchess deChevreuse. The remembrance of an old and close friendship, the habit ofa familiarity contracted in youth, gave the Duchess de Chevreuse a meansof influence over that Queen, so fixed in her hatred, so inconstant inher friendships. Anne of Austria, who then, moreover, found herself verymiserable through the obstacles which so many factions created, hadpartially restored the Duchess to her confidence. Madame de Chevreuseappeared also to have the same interests as De Retz, since, like him, she desired intensely the union of her daughter with a Prince of theblood. But she had large sums of money to recover from the Government, and the success of her claims depended on the decision of the primeminister. She therefore used her utmost tact with Mazarin, negotiatingat the same time with him, as well as with the Old and the New Fronde. She turned to her own profit the influence that her connections atCourt, with the Coadjutor, and with the Princes gave her in all theseveral factions. She was assisted in her intrigues by the Marquis deLaignes, a man of courage but little intellect, who, from the time ofher exile at Brussels, had declared himself her lover in order to gainimportance in the faction of the Fronde, which he had embraced. Aslittle more of the attractions of her youth were left to Madame deChevreuse, save their pristine celebrity, she had not always tocongratulate herself upon the good humour and behaviour of De Laignes. The latter had been until then wholly devoted to the Coadjutor; but DeRetz soon perceived that De Laignes entered into projects different fromhis own. At length, to have some one who could be responsible to himfor Madame de Chevreuse, he endeavoured to substitute Hacqueville as ago-between in the place of De Laignes. Hacqueville was the intimatefriend of De Retz and also of Madame de Sevigné; and seconded by Madamede Chevreuse and Madame de Rhodes, De Retz might have succeeded in theexpulsion of Laignes, if Hacqueville would have consented to thatproject. No man could be more obliging than Hacqueville; but, notwithstanding the disposition he showed to be useful to his friends, he shrank from such continual immolation of himself. Probably also hewas too honest a man to lend himself to such a procedure. 

Madame de Sevigné, --in every way qualified to play a distinguished partin the exciting game of politics, --was so entirely devoted to herhusband and children as to be a stranger to all these intrigues; but shewas more or less connected with the persons who seconded the Coadjutor'sprojects, and consequently with the Duchess de Chevreuse. An article inthe "Muse Historique" of Loret shows how intimate was the connection ofMadame de Sevigné with that Duchess. In the month of July, 1850, onreturning from a promenade in the Cours, then the fashionable driveamong the highest society, the Marquis and Marchioness de Sevigné gave asplendid supper to the Duchess de Chevreuse. The noisy manner in whichthe Frondeurs expressed their delight made this nocturnal repast almostassume the character of an orgie; and, for that reason, it became forawhile the talk of the capital. The rhyming gazetteer thus expresseshimself on the subject:

 On fait ici grand' mention D'une belle collation Qu'à la Duchesse de Chevreuse Sevigné, de race frondeuse, Donna depuis quatre ou cinq jours, Quand on fut revenue du Cours. On y vit briller aux chandelles Des gorges passablement belles; On y vit nombre de galants; On y mangea des ortolans; On chanta des chansons à boire; On dit cent fois non--oui--non, voire. La Fronde, dit-on, y claqua; Un plat d'argent on escroqua; On repandit quelque potage, Et je n'en sais pas davantage. [1]

 [1] Loret, Muse Historique, liv. I. , p. 28, Letter 10. 

It will be seen from these details, that already the manners and customsof the great world reflected the licence of the civil wars, and thatthey no longer resembled those of which the Hôtel de Rambouillet stillpresented a purer model. It may be possible also that there was someexaggeration in Loret's description: he belonged to the Court party, received a pension of two hundred crowns from Mazarin, and detested theFronde. His rhyming gazette was addressed to his protectress, Mademoiselle de Longueville, so much the more opposed to the Fronde thather stepmother was the heroine of that faction. Mademoiselle deLongueville, whose harsh strictures upon the Condé family have beencited, and who subsequently became the wife of the Duke de Nemours, isoften mentioned in the writings of her time, although she was nevermixed up in any political intrigue, nor took part in any event. Herimmense fortune, the clearness of her judgment, the elevation of hersentiments, her grand airs, the severe dignity of her manners, and theenergy of her character, constituted her during the Regency and thelong reign of Louis XIV. A personage quite apart; who submitted herselfto no influence whatever, social or political, and who no more permittedthat absolute monarch to induce her to vary in her determinations, thanto change the fashion of her external habiliments. 

CHAPTER III. 

 STATE OF PARTIES ON THE LIBERATION OF THE PRINCES--THE CARDS AGAIN SHUFFLED, AND THE FACE OF THE SITUATION CHANGED. 

AT the commencement of 1651 all France clamoured for Condé's liberation. During the autumn Mazarin had led the Queen and the young King againstBordeaux, then held by the Princess de Condé, carrying--as usual whenforced to use both means--a sword in one hand and a roll of parchment inthe other. Failing to carry the place with the first, the Cardinal beganto negotiate a treaty of peace, the principal item of which was fullpardon to the citizens, and by others an agreement that the Princess andher son should retire to Montrond: on these terms the city yielded toits sovereign. The Cardinal also obtained a victory in the field againstTurenne, who had entered the service of Spain and fired upon thefleur-de-lis. But with this momentary success of Mazarin's cause rosehis pretensions and demands; and the Fronde, alarmed at his recoveredauthority, changed its tactics as its Protean genius De Retz frequentlydid his clothes--his cassock for a plumed hat and military cloak. Itdemanded the trial or liberation of the prisoners it had helped to sendto Vincennes, without delay, and Mazarin removed them for safe custodyto Havre. It then pronounced sentence of banishment on the obnoxiousminister, and ordered him to quit the kingdom within fifteen days. Thetown militia kept watch and ward over the Queen, by the command of theCoadjutor, and hindered her flight to join the favourite. She couldoffer no further resistance to those who now called themselves thefriends of Condé, but who were the very same persons who had fought himin the field a few months before. Orders were given to set the captivesat liberty. Mazarin himself went to Havre to communicate the news oftheir freedom, and was received by them with the contempt that he mighthave expected. Condé took leave of the Cardinal with a ringing peal oflaughter, and with joyous acclamations, and bonfires, and firing ofguns, made his triumphal entry into Paris. 

Condé was now master of the situation. He found himself equally courtedby the two other chief parties into which the State was divided--theQueen's, supported by the Duke de Bouillon, and the now repentant andpardoned Turenne--and the Fronde, which had fallen into the guidance ofthe Duke d'Orleans, the Coadjutor, and the Duchess de Chevreuse. His ownwas called "the Prince's, " and comprised Rochefoucauld and otherpersonal friends and military admirers. The Duke d'Orleans had gone onbefore to meet Condé as far as the plain of St. Denis, accompanied bythe two most conspicuous representatives of the Fronde, the Duke deBeaufort and Retz, with the Coadjutor of Paris, and there they allwarmly embraced. The Duke, having taken the Prince into his carriage, brought him in great pomp to the Palais Royal to salute the Queen Regentand the young King, and thence to the Palais d'Orleans, where he wasfeasted magnificently. Some days afterwards (February 25th) a royalordonnance recognised the innocence of the Princes Condé, Conti, andthe Duke de Longueville, and reinstated them in all their posts andgovernments. On the 27th this ordonnance was confirmed in Parliamentamidst loud cheers. Condé thus found himself at the highest degree ofpower to which a subject could reach. Misfortune had enhanced hismilitary glory; a long captivity, endured with an unalterable serenityand high-hearted gaiety, had carried his popularity to the highestpitch. He was the victor, and, as it were, the designated heir, ofMazarin, who had fled before him, and with difficulty found a refugewithout the kingdom, on the banks of the Rhine. 

Thus, Anne of Austria in some sort a prisoner, and Mazarin proscribed, the nobility showed itself entirely devoted to the young hero whom itrecognized as its chief. Some among them at once proposed that the QueenMother should be confined in the Val-de-Grace, and that the Princeshould himself assume the Regency, others talked even of raising him tothe throne, but Condé did not fail to perceive that his newly acquiredpower was not so solid as it was sought to make him believe. 

Meanwhile, Mazarin having quitted Havre, and the inhabitants ofAbbeville refusing him passage through their town, he found an asylumfor a few days at Dourlens; but he was soon driven thence by theproceedings of the Parliament against him. He then retired to Sedan, where he took counsel with his friend Fabert, whom he had appointedCommandant there. He next proceeded to Cologne, being treated with theutmost distinction and hospitality in all the foreign towns throughwhich he passed. 

Even in banishment, however, the old influence began to work. TheCardinal from his place of retirement governed the Queen with asabsolute a sway as ever, and recommended her, as a keen stroke ofpolicy which would neutralize all parties, to take the young King to a_Bed of Justice_, and cause him to declare his majority. Couriers weregoing daily between Paris and Cologne; treaties between the Fronde andMazarin were intercepted or forged, and published in the capital; thepost of Prime Minister remained unfilled, and the Duke de Mercoeur, notwithstanding all the thunders of Parliament, set out for Bruhl, withthe purpose of marrying Mazarin's niece. Everything announced that theexile of that hated minister was but temporary, and Condé, perceivingthe object of all these moves, prepared for war, and silently took hismeasures accordingly. 

The nobility, who, from the beginning of February, had begun to assemblein order to take part in the expulsion of Mazarin, now held theirmeetings in the monastery hall of the Cordeliers, where might be seencollected together as many as _eight hundred_ princes, dukes, andnoblemen, heads of the most considerable houses in France, all partisansof Condé. As this numerical strength of the ennobled classes, togetherwith the multiplicity of titles among them, is somewhat startling to ayouthful English student, it may be well to remark that France had, infact, three aristocracies in the course of her annals from the Crusadesto the reign of Louis XIV. After the time of Louis XI. , therepresentatives of the _first_, or old feudal aristocracy, thedescendants of the men who were in reality the King's peers, and not hisactual subjects, were few and far between. These were the holders ofvast principalities, who maintained a kind of royal state in their ownpossessions, and kept high courts of judicature over life and limb inthe whole extent of their hereditary fiefs. In the long English wars, from Crécy to Agincourt, the great body of them disappeared, and onlyhere and there a great vassal was to be seen, distinguished in nothingfrom the other nobles, except in the loftiness of his titles and thereverence that still clung to the sound of his historic name. The_second_ aristocracy arose among the descendants of the survivors of theEnglish and Italian wars. They claimed their rank, not as coming down tothem from the tenure of almost independent counties and dukedoms, but asproprietors of ancestral lands, to which originally subordinate rightsand duties had been attached. Mixed with those, we saw the Noblesse ofthe Robe, as the great law officers were called, who constituted aparallel but not identical nobility with their lay competitors. The_third_ aristocracy was now about to make its appearance, the creationof Court favour, and badge of personal or official service--possessorsof a nominal rank without any corresponding duty--a body selected forornament, and not for use--and incorporating with itself, not only themarquis and viscount, fresh from the mint of the minister or favourite, but the highest names in France. 

The aristocracy of the sword, and of ancient birth, had itself to blamefor this degradation. Great alterations in manners or government--suchas give a new character to human affairs--always seem brought about bysome strange relaxation of morals, or atrocity of conduct, which makessociety anxious for the change. The unfortunate custom in France whichgave every male member of a noble family a title equivalent to that ofits chief, so that a simple viscount with ten stalwart and pennilesssons gave ten stalwart and penniless viscounts to the aristocracy of hiscountry, had filled the whole land with a race of men proud of theirorigin, filled with reckless courage, careless of life, and despisingall honest means of employment by which their fortunes might have beenimproved. Mounted on a sorry steed and begirt with a sword of goodsteel, the young cavalier took his way from the miserable castle on arock, where his noble father tried in vain to keep up the appearance ofdaily dinners, and wondered how in the world all his remaining sons anddaughters were to be clothed and fed, and made his way to Paris. Therehe pushed his fortune--fighting, bullying, gambling, and was probablystabbed by some drunken companion and flung into the Seine. If he waslucky or adroit enough, he stabbed his drunken friend and pushed _him_into the stream; and, after a few months of suing and importunity, obtained a saddle in the King's Guards, or a pair of boots in theMusqueteers. At this time it came out that in twenty years of the reignof Louis XIII. There had been eight thousand fatal duels in differentparts of the realm. Out of the duels which were daily carried on, fourhundred in each year had ended in the death of one of the combatants. When the fiercest of English wars is shaking every heart in the kingdom, there would be wailing and misery in every house if it were reportedthat four hundred officers had been killed in a year. Yet these youngdesperadoes were all of officer's rank, and the quarrel in which theyfell was probably either dishonourable or contemptible. Men fought andkilled each other for a word or a look, or a fashion of dress, or themere sake of killing. Where morality is loosened to the extent of adisregard of life, we may be sure the general behaviour in otherrespects is equally to be deplored. There was great and almost universaldepravity in the conduct of high and low. Vice and sensuality foundrefuge and protection even in the presence of princesses and queens. People residing in remote places heard only of the gorgeous licence inwhich the great and powerful lived. They knew them only during theirvisits to their ancestral homes as worn-out debauchees from the greatcity, who brought the profligacy of the purlieus of the Louvre into thepeaceful cottages of the peasantry on their estates. It was, indeed, somuch the fashion to be wicked, that a gentleman was hindered from thepractice of his Christian or social duties by the fear of ridicule. Thelife of man, therefore, and the honour of woman were held equally cheap;and the blinded, rash, and self-indulgent nobility laid the foundation, in contempt of the feelings of its inferiors and neglect of theirinterests, for the terrible retribution which even now at intervalsmight be seen ready to take its course. 

CHAPTER IV. 

 THE DUCHESSES DE LONGUEVILLE AND DE CHEVREUSE AND THE PRINCESS PALATINE IN THE LAST FRONDE. --RESULTS OF THE RUPTURE OF THE MARRIAGE PROJECTED BETWEEN THE PRINCE DE CONTI AND MADEMOISELLE DE CHEVREUSE. 

WE must now revert to Condé's heroic sister. Having glanced somewhathastily at the brilliant part played by Madame de Longueville in the twofirst epochs of the Fronde, the war of Paris and that which illuminatedthe prison of Condé, we are now about to follow her through the thirdand last period, which commences from the deliverance of the Princes, inFebruary, 1651, and only ends with the war of Guienne, in August, 1653;--the longest, the most disastrous, and at the same time mostobscure epoch of the civil war. It will be necessary to strip the maskfrom more than one illustrious actor in it, exhibit the reverse of themost showy medals, and the shadows which everywhere mingle with glory, genius, and even virtue itself. The character of the Duchess deLongueville has its charming, its sublime aspects; but, alas! it is farfrom being irreproachable. In dwelling upon the least favourable portionof her life, we shall often do well to remember that the errors of greatminds sometimes subserve their perfection, by the beneficent virtue ofthe remorse to which they give rise, and that the sister of the GreatCondé must probably have felt in all its fulness the vanity of ambitionand of false grandeur, all the bitterness of guilty passions, in takingan early farewell of them, to resume the austere path of duty, toreturn, in fine, to Carmel and ascend to Port Royal. 

Madame de Longueville had remained at Stenay with Turenne for some timeafter her brother's and husband's liberation, both occupied indisengaging themselves from the engagements which they had contractedwith Spain for the deliverance of the Princes, and with negotiating atruce calculated to clear the way for the much-desired general peace. Recalled by the pressing instances of her family, she had quitted Stenayon the 7th of March, before the completion of her work. On arriving inParis "universal applause greeted her heroic deeds. " Monsieur hadhastened to pay her a visit with Mademoiselle Montpensier, and a trainof ladies of the highest distinction. She went afterwards that same dayto present her homage to their Majesties, from whom she met with themost gracious reception. That moment was, unquestionably, the mostbrilliant of her whole career. In 1647, after the embassy to Munster, her return to France and its Court had been also a veritable triumph, aswe have attempted to show; but the power of her house and the glory ofher brother constituted nearly all the merits of it. She onlycontributed thereto the influence of her wit and beauty. After Stenay, the _éclat_ which surrounded her was in some sort more personal. She hadjust displayed eminent qualities which raised her almost to the level ofCondé. In Normandy she had exhibited herself as an intrepid adventuress, and a skilful politician in the Low Countries. When, during theimprisonment of her two brothers and her husband, her sister-in-law, thePrincess de Condé, had been forced at Bordeaux to recognize the royalauthority, she discovered that the destinies of her house had devolvedupon her. She had become the head of a great party. She had treated asfrom power to power with Spain; her word had appeared a sufficientguarantee to the Archduke Leopold and to the Count de Fuensaldagne. Shehad held in hand such commanders as Turenne, La Moussaye, Bouteville;and when, after the battle of Rethel, she seemed to be on the very vergeof destruction, she had succeeded in recovering the advantage, and incontributing more than any one else to the deliverance of the Princes, thanks to the profound negotiations carried on in her name by thePrincess Palatine. Whilst statesmen estimated her capacity, themultitude admired her courage and constancy. She was, in short, inpossession of that political rôle with which La Rochefoucauld haddazzled her gaze in order to conceal his own designs:--a glitteringchimera which, mingling itself with that of love, had seduced thatardent and haughty soul of hers. She was then the idol of Spain, theterror of the Court, one of the grandeurs of her family. We shall soonsee whether she can better sustain this new ordeal than she did thefirst, at the close of the year 1647. 

The Fronde gathered the fruit of its skilful conduct during the month ofJanuary, 1651. It was that faction which, silencing its old animositiesand promptly extending its hand to the partisans of Condé, hadextricated him from prison, in order to acquire and place at its head, together with the King's uncle, the lieutenant-general of the Kingdom, the first prince of the blood, the victor of Rocroi and Lens, the heroof the age. It carried everything before it--at Court, in parliament, upon the public places; it had proscribed and put to flight Mazarin; itheld Anne of Austria a captive in her palace; already even it hadpenetrated into the cabinet in the person of the aged Chateauneuf, inwhom ambition cherished beneath the snows of winter the vigour of youth, and whose capacity was scarcely inferior to his ambition. The moment hadarrived for accomplishing the work already begun, and for putting intoexecution the plan determined upon between the Princess Palatine andMadame de Chevreuse. 

Those two strong-minded women had conceived the idea of a grandaristocratic league which should seat the Fronde upon an union of allthe interests which it comprised, close the avenues of France and theCourt to Mazarin, and under the auspices of the Duke d'Orleans and thePrince de Condé form a government into which the friends of both shouldenter, the most accredited representatives of every fraction of a party. Further, the basis of this plan was that of a double marriage: on theone side between the young Duke d'Enghien and one of the Duke d'Orleans'daughters, on the other between the Prince de Conti and the daughter ofMadame de Chevreuse. [1] This latter marriage might be accomplishedimmediately. Condé had accepted the proposition without any difficulty. Madame de Longueville, far from opposing it at Stenay, had embraced theidea of it with so much ardour that, in a letter to the Palatine of the26th of November, 1650, after having weighed the different resolutionsto be taken, she stops at this latter, and concludes thus: "_this, therefore, is what we must stick to_. " That marriage was, in short, of asupreme importance: it gave the house of Condé to the Fronde for ever, and the Fronde to the house of Condé; for the Fronde was then Madame deChevreuse. She disposed, by her daughter, of the Coadjutor, who in histurn disposed of the Duke d'Orleans, and by him of the parliament. Itwas Madame de Chevreuse who, in 1650, had emboldened Mazarin to lay hishand upon Condé, in making him see that he might strike that bold strokewith impunity, since she answered to him for the secret connivance ofthe Duke d'Orleans and the parliament, who were alone able to oppose it. Here, Mazarin had committed an immense blunder: seeing himself deliveredfrom Condé, by the aid of the Fronde, having nothing more hostile tocope with than the latter, he had imagined himself able to turn roundupon it, and had treated Madame de Chevreuse very cavalierly, who, growing cold towards the Cardinal, and no longer finding it to heraccount to serve him, had lent an ear to the propositions of Condé'sfriends, and had procured his release from prison, reconciling to himthe Duke d'Orleans and the parliament, which at first she had stirred upagainst him. She brought, moreover, to the house of Condé the mostpolitic mind of the Fronde, an audacity towering to the height of hisdesigns, a consummate experience, with the support of her three powerfulfamilies, the houses of de Rohan, de Luynes, and Lorraine. She renderedsure the alliance of the Duke d'Orleans and the Prince de Condé, andcompleted the ruin of Mazarin by constructing a strong government whichprobably might have succeeded ultimately in triumphing over theaffection of the Queen. She held in hand a statesman bred in the schoolof Richelieu, and whom she judged capable of replacing Mazarin, theformer Keeper of the Seals--Châteauneuf, already a member of theCabinet. She believed herself certain of acquiring De Retz by means ofthe Cardinal's hat. She had not the least objection to make to theelevation of the friends of Condé, and she was ready to favour theambition of La Rochefoucauld, for whom formerly, in 1643, she had sogreatly importuned the Queen and Mazarin. Add to all this, that onquitting the citadel of Havre, the young Prince de Conti had not beheldthe lovely Charlotte de Lorraine without being smitten with her charms, and he himself strongly desired that marriage. Who, then, prevented it?Who broke off the contracted engagement? Who struck at and wounded bythe self-same blow the Palatine and Madame de Chevreuse? Who restoredthem both and for ever to the Queen and Mazarin? Who destroyed theFronde by dividing it? We shall find out by-and-by, but let us merelysay just now that it was the rupture of that marriage which againshuffled the cards and changed the face of the situation. In pittingagainst himself those who had so powerfully succoured him in hismisfortune, Condé ought at least to have drawn closer to the Court andhad a serious understanding with the Queen; but he tergiversated, and atthe end of some months of that wavering policy, he found himselfstanding unmasked between the Court and the Fronde, both equallydiscontented with him, repeating and exaggerating the blunder committedby Mazarin. The greatest error during the course of a revolution is tobelieve that the support of either of the parties who are in actualcollision may be dispensed with. At the close of a revolution theattempt to dominate may be tried; during the crisis a choice must bemade. Mazarin had fallen through having tried to dominate the Fronde andCondé at one and the same time; Condé lost himself in thinking todominate the Fronde and the Court. 

 [1] Retz himself has taken care to inform us of his sad _liaison_ with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, throughout the whole of the second volume and beginning of the third of his Memoirs. Amsterdam edition, 1731. That unfortunate lady died suddenly of a fever, unmarried, in 1652. She was born in 1627. 

It is an historical problem very difficult to solve, as to who was theauthor of the rupture of the marriage projected between the Prince deConti and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse. We are well inclined to believethat that individual at any rate was the chief author of the rupture towhom it was the most profitable. The Queen and Mazarin, who from hisplace of retirement governed her with as absolute a sway as ever, sawfrom the first the danger which threatened them from such an alliance, entirely unexpected as it was by both. The negotiations between Madamede Chevreuse, while Condé was prisoner, and Madame de Longueville atStenay, had been conducted by the Palatine with such consummate skilland perfect secrecy that neither the Queen nor Mazarin had the slightestsuspicion of them. When the rumour reached the ears of the Cardinal inhis retreat at Bruhl, near Cologne, he broke out against Madame deChevreuse with a violence the coarseness of which even was aninvoluntary homage rendered to the profound ability of Marie de Rohan. The Queen showed herself warmly opposed to it, and the ministers wereordered to thwart in every way the projected alliance. They began, therefore, to negotiate with Condé. As a result of these negotiations heobtained in exchange for his government of Burgundy that of Guienne, oneof far greater importance; he was even led to indulge a hope thatProvence would be given to the Prince de Conti instead of Champagne andLa Brie, and the port and fortress of Blaye to La Rochefoucauld inaugmentation of his government of Poitou, although there was not theslightest intention of fulfilling that hope. So states the Duchess deNemours, the enemy of the Fronde and the Condés, and who, having givenherself to the Court party, must have well known its intentions. De Retzlikewise doubts not that the Queen combated an alliance so evidentlyopposed to her interests. Madame de Motteville, the Queen's closefriend, avows it. In short, it is certain, and we have hereupon theirrefragable testimony of Madame de Motteville, that when the Queen hadsucceeded in gaining over Condé, she caused Madame de Chevreuse to beinformed "that she desired that such marriage should not take place, because it had been concerted for objects inimical to the royalinterests. This command was the cause of all these propositions fallingthrough and that they were no more spoken of. "

But how did the Queen gain over Condé, and what part did Madame deLongueville play in the affair? That is certainly what neither De Retzcould know, who was only aware of what passed in parliament, in thePalais d'Orléans, and the Hôtel de Chevreuse; nor the Duchess de Nemoursand Madame de Motteville, who were not in the confidence of the Hôtel deCondé: they could only repeat hereupon what they had heard said in theCourt circle, and they must be considered solely as the echoes ofreports which it suited the Queen to spread. That is so probable thatthe one and the other, differing so widely as they did both in intentionand feeling, tell exactly the same tale. Madame de Motteville statespositively that Madame de Longueville, as soon as she returned fromStenay, advised Condé to break with the Chevreuses, and that LaRochefoucauld supported her in such design; and these are the motiveswhich she attributes to her:--"Madame de Longueville, who had been longjealous of the beauty and graces of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, couldlittle bear to contemplate the probability of her being raised to a rankeven more elevated than her own, and still less, that she should obtainthe great influence which such a person was likely to acquire over bothher princely brothers. She had, therefore, exerted all her influenceover Condé, and with him had been quite successful. But Conti was stillin the height of his passion for the beautiful and fascinating girl whohad been promised to him during his imprisonment; he supped everyevening at the Hôtel de Chevreuse, and his affections, as well as hishonour, were fully engaged. " The Duchess de Nemours says the same thingin the same terms. 

Confidant and adviser of Madame de Longueville and of Condé, LaRochefoucauld alone knew the whole truth, and could have told it toposterity; but it was not to tell the truth that his memoirs werepenned, only too frequently to conceal it, to set in strong relief thatwhich had been well done, and slur over that which had been badly done, or to cast the blame of it upon others. Attentive to the study of hispart, and to never accept a bad one, La Rochefoucauld says truly thatthe Frondeurs, eagerly pressing forwards the marriage of the Prince deConti with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, and seeing it retarded, "suspectedMadame de Longueville and the Duke de la Rochefoucauld of a design tobreak it off, for fear that the Prince de Conti should escape from theirhands only to fall into those of Madame de Chevreuse and of theCoadjutor;" but he endeavours to give a reason for these suspicions, andto inform us whether they were well or ill founded. Instead of defendinghimself, and Madame de Longueville, he accuses Condé of having "adroitlyincreased the suspicions of the Frondeurs against his sister and LaRochefoucauld, firmly believing that so long as they held that belief, they would never discover the true cause of the postponement of themarriage. " And what was that true cause? Here it is, according to LaRochefoucauld: it was that the Prince de Condé "not having as yeteither concluded or broken off his treaty with the Queen, and havingbeen informed that the keeper of the seals--Châteauneuf--was about to bedismissed, wished to await that event to conclude the marriage, ifCardinal Mazarin were ruined by M. De Châteauneuf, or to break it offand make through that his court to the Queen, should M. De Châteauneufbe driven away by the Cardinal. "

This interpretation of Condé's conduct does not do him great honour, butit is a very probable one. In the first place, if La Rochefoucauld knewhow to glide so cleverly over all the ticklish points in which he couldnot appear to advantage, he did not, strictly speaking, tell lies; heretires rather than attacks, unless hurried away by passion, and he wasnever in a passion with Condé. And, further, the conduct which heattributes to Condé springs quite naturally out of the false position inwhich Condé had, by degrees, suffered himself to be placed. 

Altogether, we are persuaded that Condé was then sincere. His soleerror, and it is that which marked his entire conduct during the Fronde, was the not having had, either on this occasion or any other, a fixedand unalterable object. On the 13th of April the Queen took the sealsfrom Madame de Chevreuse's friend, Châteauneuf, the representative ofthe Fronde in the Cabinet, to give them to the gravest person of histime, the first president, Mathieu Molé, a worthy servant of the State, very little friendly to the Fronde, and who then was sufficientlyfavourable towards the Prince de Condé. That same day she recalled tothe Council as Secretary of State the Count de Chavigny, who had beenformerly minister for Foreign Affairs under Richelieu. Formed in theschool of the great Cardinal, as well as Mazarin, ousted from place, crafty and resolute, feeling himself capable of bearing the weight of aministry, Chavigny had beheld with a sufficiently ominous countenance, after the death of their common master, the sudden elevation of acolleague who had even begun by being his dependent. Since 1643, vanityhad turned him aside from the high road of ambition, and he hadentangled himself in the brakes of very complicated intrigues. In 1651, he passed as the friend of Condé. It was then only, if we can believe LaRochefoucauld, that Condé declared himself opposed to the marriage ofhis youthful brother with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse; and it was timethat he opposed it, for that marriage was on the eve of accomplishment. Conti gave proof of the most ardent passion for Mademoiselle deChevreuse; he paid her a thousand attentions which he hid from hisfriends, and particularly from his sister, for whom he ever professed toentertain an undivided adoration. He held long conferences with theMarquis de Laigues and other intimate friends of Mademoiselle deChevreuse; it was even feared lest he should marry her without thenecessary dispensations and without the participation of the head of hisfamily. Condé, therefore, decided to act at once, and the reputation ofthe fair lady afforded him a means of attack which he employed withsuccess upon his brother. He seems to have had no great difficulty inattaining his object. The Prince de Conti soon received proof that shewas not by any means so immaculate as he had believed: her scarcelydoubtful connection with the Coadjutor was placed in its true light, and, convinced that the object of his passion was unworthy the love of aman of honour, he began to look upon her with horror. He even blamedMadame de Longueville and the Duke de la Rochefoucauld for not havingwarned him sooner of what was said of her in society. From that momentmeans of breaking off the affair without acrimony were sought; butthe interests involved were too great, and the circumstances too piquantnot to renew and augment still more the old hatred of Madame deChevreuse and the Frondeurs against the Prince de Condé, and againstthose whom they suspected of taking part in that which had just beendone. [2]

 [2] La Rochefoucauld, p. 69. Retz, tom, ii. , p. 223. 

This testimony would justify Madame de Longueville and La Rochefoucauldhimself for having urged Condé upon that disloyal and impolitic rupture, if one could believe it to be entirely sincere; but it is very difficultto admit that Madame de Longueville and her all-powerful adviser couldhave remained strangers to a determination so important, and there aremany doubts and obscurities resting upon this delicate point. De Retz, whose introspect was so penetrating, and who does not pride himself onany great reserve in his judgments, knew not what opinion toform--Condé, Madame de Longueville, and La Rochefoucauld havingafterwards assured him that they had had nothing to do with the ruptureof the marriage. 

But whose soever was the hand that broke off the projected alliance ofthe Condés with Madame de Chevreuse, it is beyond doubt that that hadlost Condé and saved Mazarin. All the errors which followed were derivedfrom that cardinal one. In it must be discerned the first link of thatchain of disastrous events which ended by dragging Condé into civil war. 

The resentment of Madame de Chevreuse may well be imagined, when shediscovered that she had been tricked, that she had separated herselffrom Mazarin and the Queen, and had drawn Condé out of prison only toreceive in exchange such an unpardonable outrage! Already, even a shorttime before, when the Queen ousted Châteauneuf without consulting theDuke d'Orleans, the wrath of the Frondeurs had been such, that at acouncil held at the Palais d'Orleans of the whole party, it was proposedto go, on the part of the lieutenant-general, and demand back the sealsfrom Mathieu Molé. The most violent expedients were suggested, and someamong the more hot-headed spoke of seizing their arms and descendinginto the streets. Condé, who had not yet entirely broken with theFrondeurs, and was present at this council with a few of his friends, threw cold water upon every proposal that was made, and energeticallyopposed the appeal to arms, declaring that he did not understand waging"a war of paving-stones and _pots de chambre_, " and that he felt himselftoo much of a coward for such a campaign as that. 

After some time passed in sharp discussion, the Duke retired into theapartments of his wife with De Retz, and there a brief consultationensued, in which the Duchess d'Orleans, Madame de Chevreuse, and theCoadjutor endeavoured to persuade him to arrest the leaders of theopposite party, and rouse the people to insurrection. The Duke d'Orleanswas in some degree moved; Condé, Conti, and the Duke de Beaufort andothers, had retired into the library, and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, springing towards the door, exclaimed, "Nothing is wanting but a turn ofthe key! It would be a fine thing indeed for a girl to arrest a winnerof battles!"

The impetuosity of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, however, alarmed the timidDuke d'Orleans. Had he been brought to it by degrees, he might haveconsented to the act; but her movement towards the door startled him, and he began to whistle, --which, as De Retz observes, was never a goodsign. Then declaring that he would consider of the matter till the nextmorning, he walked quietly into the library, and suffered the guests todepart in peace whom he had been so sorely tempted to make prisoners. 

At the same time in the parliament all the violent measures takenagainst Mazarin were renewed: he was banished and rebanished, withconfiscation of his possessions, and even his books and pictures wereordered to be sold. A decree had already been passed declaring allforeign cardinals incapable of serving in France, and of entering intothe ministry. They did not stop there, and certain councillors who werenot in the secrets of the party, and obeying only their passion, proposed to exclude from the ministry even the French cardinals as beingstill too dependent upon Rome. This sweeping motion was carried amidloud cheers, which resounded through all parts of the hall. WhereuponCondé laughingly remarked: "There's a fine echo. " That same echo was theruin of De Retz's hopes, who only so passionately desired to become acardinal in order to succeed to Mazarin. Shortly afterwards the divisionbetween Condé and the Old Fronde was declared, and Condé applied himselfto form an intermediate party, a new Fronde, which became sufficientlypowerful to disquiet Madame de Chevreuse and the Coadjutor. [3]"Imagine, " says the latter, "what the royal authority purged ofMazarinism would have been, and the party of the Prince de Condé purgedof faction! More than all, what surety was there in M. The Duked'Orleans!"

 [3] De Retz, tom, ii. , p. 205. 

 [4] The same, p. 214. 

But De Retz was not the only politician who terrified himself with theidea of such a future looming thus darkly for France. Mazarin dreadedit as much as he. His authority was almost universally thought to be forever annihilated; but a small number of courtiers who could read theQueen's heart, judged otherwise, and owed to the skilful line of conductto which they adhered under these circumstances the high fortune towhich they attained in the sequel. 

There is little doubt that, in the first instance, Condé might havecarried off the Regency from the Queen, deprived as she was of her primeminister, and by her own acknowledgment incapable of governing byherself; but then the direction of affairs belonged by right to the Duked'Orleans, of whom Condé was jealous. Condé, however, preferred to keepthe Regency in the Queen's hands, and by rendering himself formidable tothe Government, forcing it to reckon with him. If that union of thePrinces between themselves and the Fronde faction had subsisted, there-establishment of the royal authority would have been impossible: andthe commencement of the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, who, although hehad only completed his thirteenth year, was about, by the force of anexceptional law, to be declared of age, would have offered thespectacle, so frequent in French annals, [5] of a state a prey to thedivulsion of factions and the horrors of anarchy. 

 [5] Retz--La Rochefoucauld--Joly. 

But for the happiness of France and the Queen-Regent, Condé was asunskilful in politics as he was great in war. He kept none of thepromises he had made to the chiefs of the Fronde, the authors of hisdeliverance. The marriage of the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle deChevreuse, which had been the base of the treaty, and involved otherengagements, was, as we have seen, remorselessly broken off. The QueenRegent, in order to succeed in bringing back her favourite minister topower, had the tact to conceal his advances, and therefore chose in thefirst instance to replace him by Chavigny, who was his personal enemy. Then she negotiated with all parties, and skilfully opposed the Frondeto the Prince de Condé, the latter to the Duke d'Orleans, the parliamentto the assembly of the nobles, the aversion to Mazarin to the fear whichthe Coadjutor inspired. Her ministers, whom she abused, had only thesemblance of power; all that was real was possessed by Mazarin. FromBruhl, his place of exile, he governed France; the Queen adopted noresolution without its having been inspired by him, or met with hisapproval. Thus hidden by the Regent's mantle, the Cardinal followed withvigilant eye the quarrels of the Prince de Condé and the Frondeurs, fomenting them and inflaming them by every means at his disposal, prodigalising to Condé promises which must in the highest degree havealarmed the Fronde, and entangling him daily more and more in the meshesof intricate, tortuous negotiations, until he had seen the separation, for which he manoeuvred, irremediably consummated. Then he stopped, and began insensibly even to fall back. The placing of Provence in thePrince de Conti's hands was deferred; and in fact it was held in reservefor the Duke de Mercoeur, the eldest son of the Duke de Vendôme, whowas seeking the hand of one of Mazarin's nieces; and it was also foundinexpedient to deprive the Duke de Saint-Simon of Blaye to give it to LaRochefoucauld; and a thousand other difficulties of a like nature wereraised, which both astonished and irritated Condé. Since he broke withthe Fronde, it was apparently to unite himself with the Queen, and thehigher his ambition soared, the more necessary it was to cover it withrespect and deference, in order to hasten and secure the treaty onfoot, and to enchain the monarchy with his own fate. But the fiery Condéwas incapable of such a line of conduct. Finding unexpected obstacleswhere previously he had met with facilities and hopeful anticipations, he lost his temper, and resumed the imperious tone which already, in1649, had embroiled him with the Queen and Mazarin. 

It appears also that Madame de Longueville shared in the soaringillusions of her brother, and that she bore but indifferently well hernewly blown prosperity. Madame de Motteville gives us to understand sowith her usual moderation, and the Duchess de Nemours rejoices to say sowith all the acrimony and doubtless also the exaggeration of hatred. [6]It must, indeed, be owned, with the heroic instincts of Condé, Madame deLongueville shared also his haughty spirit. All her contemporariesascribe to her an innate majesty which did not show itself on ordinaryoccasions; far from it, she was simple, amiable, adding thereto, whendesirous of pleasing, a caressing and irresistible gentleness; but, withpeople whom she disliked, she intrenched herself in a frigid dignity, and Anne of Austria and she had never loved one another. A misplacedhaughtiness towards the Queen is attributed to her. One day, says Madamede Nemours, she kept her waiting for two or three hours. It is verydoubtful whether Madame de Longueville could have so far forgottenherself; but it is not impossible that she may have imagined, as well asher brother, that the fortunes of their house, having emerged morebrilliant than ever from so rude a tempest, had no longer to dread therecurrence of further ill-omened shocks. 

 [6] Madame de Motteville, tom. Iv. , p. 346; Madame de Nemours, p. 106. 

They deceived themselves: an immense peril was hanging over their heads. 

Immediately that Madame de Chevreuse had seen that the Queen was growingcolder towards Condé, and did not seem disposed to keep the promisesthat had been made him, her keen-sighted animosity instantly determinedher course of action, and being for ever separated from Condé, she againdrew towards the Queen with an offer of her services and those of herentire party against the common enemy. Mazarin, recognising the error hehad committed in giving himself two enemies at the same time, and thatat that moment the redoubtable individual, the man who at any cost mustbe destroyed, was Condé, very quickly forgot his grudges against Madamede Chevreuse, and advised the acceptance of her propositions. The Queen, it appears, was very averse to receive De Retz, or avail herself of hisservices; she detested him almost as much as she did Condé, well knowingthat they were the two most dangerous enemies of him without whom shedid not believe that she could really reign. Mazarin exhorted herhimself to flatter De Retz's ambition, and, marvellously understandingeach other at a distance--almost as well as when in each other'spresence, --they composed and played out in the most perfect manner acomedy of which De Retz himself seems to have been the dupe, and ofwhich Condé was very nearly being the victim. 

Madame de Chevreuse has already been depicted both in good and evil, inher natural intelligence, quickness, keen introspection, and politicalgenius, in her indomitable courage and audacity, and all that she wascapable of undertaking in order to attain her objects. It will now benecessary to thoroughly understand De Retz's character, in order toperceive clearly the peril with which Condé was menaced. 

By nature yet more restless than ambitious, a bad priest, impatient ofhis condition and having long struggled to emancipate himself from it, Paul de Gondi had prepared himself for cabals by composing ortranslating the life of a celebrated conspirator. Then, passing quicklyfrom theory to practice, he had entered into one of the most sinisterplots framed against Richelieu, and for his first experiment he hadaccepted the task, he, a young abbé, of assassinating the Cardinal atthe altar during the ceremony of Mademoiselle de Montpensier's baptism. In 1643, he had not hesitated to throw himself into the arms of the_Importants_; but the title of Coadjutor of Paris, which had just beenconferred upon him as a recompense for the virtues and services of hisfather, arrested him. The Fronde seemed created altogether expressly forhim. He shared the parentage of it along with La Rochefoucauld. In vainin his Memoirs does he studiedly put forward general considerations:like La Rochefoucauld, he was only working for himself, and at least hadthe candour to own it. Compelled to remain in the Church, De Retzdesired to rise in it as high as possible. He aspired to a cardinal'shat, and soon obtained it, thanks to his inscrutable manoeuvring; buthis supreme object was the post of prime minister, and to reach it, heplayed that double game which he so craftily concerted and so skilfullyplayed out. Seeing that Mazarin and Condé were not heads of a governmentwhich would leave to others acting with them any great share ofimportance, he undertook to overthrow them, the one by the other, tocarve out his way between them by them, and to raise upon their ruin theDuke d'Orleans, under whose name he would govern. To effect this heincessantly urged alike the Duke, the parliament, and the people, todemand, as the first condition of any reconciliation with the Court, the dismissal of Mazarin, and at the same time he, under a mask, exhibited himself as a benevolent conciliator between royalty and theFronde, promising the Queen, the indispensable sacrifice accomplished, to smooth all difficulties, and to bring over to her the Duke d'Orleansby separating him from Condé. Such was the real mainspring of all DeRetz's movements--even those seemingly the most contrary: first thecardinalate, then the premiership under the auspices of the Duked'Orleans, associated in some sort with royalty, without Mazarin orCondé. He was fain to hide his secret under the guise of the publicweal, but that secret revealed itself by the very efforts he made toconceal it, and it did not escape the penetration of La Rochefoucauld, his accomplice at the outset of the Fronde, afterwards his adversary, who had a perfect knowledge of his character, and who had sketched itwith a masterly hand, as De Retz also thoroughly comprehended andadmirably depicted La Rochefoucauld. De Retz was indeed the evil geniusof the Fronde. He always hindered it from progressing whether led byMazarin or Condé, because he merely desired to have a weak governmentwhich he could dominate. To arrive at that end, he was capable ofanything--tortuous intrigues, anonymous pamphlets, hypocritical sermonsfrom the pulpit, studied orations in parliament, popular insurrectionsand desperate _coups de main_. Such was the man who, towards the end ofMay, 1651, was admitted, much against her will, into the secret councilsof Anne of Austria. 

Anything was to be tried, however, which might deliver her from theexactions of Condé. It was absolutely necessary that she should eithergrant his demands, or find some support to enable her to resist them. She accordingly despatched Marshal du Plessis to speak with De Retz, atthe archbishopric, towards one o'clock in the morning, at which hour hegenerally returned from his nocturnal visits to Mademoiselle deChevreuse. De Retz was willing to seize the opportunity of avenginghimself upon Condé, and probably judged he might do so without bringingabout the return of Mazarin. He accepted, then, at once the Queen'sinvitation, and flung the letter of safe-conduct which she had sent himinto the fire, in order to show his confidence in her promises. Thefollowing night, at twelve o'clock, he was brought into the Queen'sOratory by a back staircase, and a long conversation ensued betweenthem. Anne of Austria was very caressing in her manner towards theCoadjutor, and sought, after winning her way to his confidence, toembroil him with Châteauneuf, by informing him that it was that friendof Madame de Chevreuse who was the most opposed to his cardinalate, because he wanted the hat for himself. It must be remembered that Franceat that moment had the appointment of a cardinal at its disposition, andit had been long promised to the Prince de Conti. Anne of Austria nowoffered it to De Retz who, in reply, at the end of a long harangue, during which the Queen interrupted him impatiently more than once, assured her that he had not come there to receive favours, but to meritthem. 

"What will you do for me, then?" asked the Queen. "What will you do?"

"Madam, " replied he, "I will oblige the Prince de Condé to quit Parisere eight days are over, and will carry off the Duke d'Orleans from himbefore to-morrow night. "

The Queen, transported with joy, extended her hand to him saying--"Giveme your hand on that, and the day after to-morrow you are a cardinal, and moreover the second amongst my friends. "

A few days afterwards, De Retz and Madame de Chevreuse had raised theentire Fronde against the Prince de Condé. The worthy archbishop hadannounced his approach to the enemy he was about to attack by a cloud ofthe same kind of libels, satires, and epigrams, which he had alwaysfound so efficacious in prejudicing the people of Paris against any onewhom he thought fit to hold forth to popular odium. At the same time amultitude of criers and hawkers were sent through the town, spreading, at the very lowest price, all the sarcasms which had been composed atthe archbishopric in the morning, to render the conduct of Condéridiculous, contemptible, and hateful in the eyes of the multitude. 

At length, when the Coadjutor believed that everything had beensufficiently prepared, he made the Palatine write to inform the Queenthat he was about to go to the parliament. Mademoiselle de Chevreuse waswith the Regent at the time she received this intimation; and thedelight which it occasioned was so great that the virtuous and piousAnne of Austria caught the archbishop's mistress in her arms, and kissedher more than once, exclaiming, with no very great regard for decorum, "You rogue! you are now doing me as much good as you have hitherto doneme harm. "

De Retz kept his word, and went to the parliament, but the progressagainst Condé was so slow that Mazarin, the Queen, and De Retz, began torevolve more summary measures, and, towards the latter part of June, their deliberations ended in a sinister project of again arresting or ofassassinating Condé. 

This obscure affair, as yet only partially unveiled, and which probablywill never be so entirely, is not so dark and impenetrable, however, asto prevent us from seeing, within the shadow thereof, fearful andcriminal purposes, to which even the more open vices of the age arecomparatively light. We are told by De Retz that the Marshal deHocquincourt, with more frankness than the rest, proposed in directterms to assassinate Condé. The Coadjutor himself, however, Madame deChevreuse, and other leaders of the Fronde, but above all Senneterre, who had about this time obtained a great share of the Queen'sconfidence, opposed not only the bold crime proposed at first byHocquincourt, but also all the schemes which he and others afterwardssuggested, and which, though apparently more mild, were all likely toend in the same event. 

Rumours of what was meditated soon reached the Prince's ears, who thensaw clearly the nature of his position. He perceived that he hadquarrelled thoroughly and for ever with the Frondeurs and with theQueen, and that henceforth he was placed between imprisonment andassassination. He felt certain that this time, should he fall into thehands of his enemies, he would be treated far more harshly than in 1650, and that probably he might never see the light again. He despised death, but the idea of perpetual incarceration was insupportable to him, andthat idea fastening itself by degrees on his mind caused projects toenter into it which until then had only momentarily crossed it. 

Too high-minded to quit Paris as though he were terrified, Condéexhibited no change in his conduct; merely confining himself to nolonger visiting the Palais-Royal or the Palais d'Orléans, and nevergoing abroad without a numerous escort of officers and retainers. Already for some time past foreseeing the storm that was gatheringagainst him, he had taken serious measures to confront it: he hadstrengthened all the fortresses that were in his hands. He haddespatched to Flanders the Marquis de Sillery, La Rochefoucauld'sbrother-in-law, under pretext of finally disengaging Madame deLongueville and Turenne from the treaties they had made with theSpaniards in 1650, with secret instructions to renew them, and toascertain how far he might reckon on the assistance of Spain if he werecompelled to draw the sword. The Count de Fuensaldagne did not fail, agreeable to the policy of his court, to promise much more than wasasked of him, and he omitted nothing calculated to stir up Condé to haverecourse to arms. 

Chance had a share in urging Condé to take a further and almost decisivestep in the dangerous path that was opening before him. One evening, just as he had lain down on his bed and was chatting with Vineuil, oneof his trusty friends, the latter received a note which directed him towarn the Prince that two companies of guards were advancing on the sideof the Faubourg Saint-Germain. It was thought that those troops wereabout to invest the hôtel. Condé jumped out of bed, dressed himself, mounted his horse instantly, and, accompanied by a few attendants, tookhis way through the faubourg Saint-Michel. On gaining the high road, heheard the clatter of a somewhat strong body of horsemen approaching, andthinking that it was the squadron in search of him, he fell back atfirst in the direction of Meudon; then, instead of re-entering Paris, when day broke he sought an asylum in his château of Saint-Maur. Hereached it on the morning of the 6th of July; and it may readily beguessed what the effect, in Paris and throughout the kingdom, of such aretreat was, and for such motives. The Princess de Condé, the Prince deConti, Madame de Longueville, La Rochefoucauld, the Duke de Nemours, the Duke de Richelieu, the Prince's most intimate friends, and more thanone illustrious personage, such as the Duke de Bouillon and Turenne, repaired immediately to Saint-Maur. In a day or two, Condé saw himselfsurrounded by a court as brilliant and as numerous as that of the King, and there he kept up a right royal festivity. After a while he sent aconsiderable number of officers disguised into Paris, who bestirredthemselves in every quarter in his favour; and when he consideredhimself in a position to hold his own against both the Queen and theFrondeurs together, he quitted Saint-Maur and returned to his hôtel nearthe Palais d'Orléans, desiring to put a good complexion on the aspect ofhis affairs and to impose upon his enemies by that bold and high-mindedconduct. [7] He appeared again also in the parliament, now once morebecome the battle-field of parties. De Retz, full of his own individualhatred, augmented by that of Madame de Chevreuse, seconded at once bythe friends of the Duke d'Orleans and by those of the Queen, burning totear from the Court and win, by serving it, the cardinal's hat, theobject of his ardent desires, the necessary stepping-stone to hisambition, brought all his courage and vanity towards enacting the partof the Prince's enemy. And there, during the months of July and August, in that pretended sanctuary of law and justice, passed all thosedeplorable scenes which De Retz and La Rochefoucauld have related, andin which Mazarin, from his retreat on the banks of the Rhine, rejoicedto see his two enemies waste their strength, and work unwittingly butsurely their common ruin and his approaching triumph. 

 [7] La Rochefoucauld, p. 83. 

A crisis was clearly inevitable. Condé could no longer perceive anysign of a pacific issue from the position in which he had been placed, or rather in which he had placed himself, and at his right hand stoodMadame de Longueville and the Prince de Conti, who held no opinionscontrary to those of his sister, urging him to cut the knot which heknew not how to untie. La Rochefoucauld stopped him for a moment on thethreshold of war, entreating Condé to allow him to undertake freshnegotiations. The Prince consented willingly thereto. Madame deLongueville was opposed to it. La Rochefoucauld, speaking to her withthat authority which his long devotion gave him, represented to her theterrible responsibility which she took upon herself both towards Condéand the State, and he obtained from her a promise that she wouldwithdraw for a time from the arena of strife, and accompany hersister-in-law, the Princess de Condé, to Berri, and allow him to remainin Paris by the side of Condé in order to make a last essay towardsconjuring the tempest. 

The fitting moment has now arrived to examine the conduct of Madame deLongueville in these grave conjunctures, the different feelings whichanimated her, and the true and lamentable motive which determined herthus to hurry her brother into civil war, and herself with him. 

Let us remember:--Anne de Bourbon exhibited extraordinary contrasts inher character, entirely opposite qualities which, developing themselvesin turn according to circumstances, gave a particular impress todifferent periods of her life. She derived from nature and the Christianeducation she had received a delicate and susceptible conscience, ahumility in her own eyes and before God that would have made her anaccomplished Carmelite; and at the same time she was born with thatardour of soul which is termed ambition, the instinct of glory and ofgrandeur. This instinct, which was also that of her house and her age, soon obtained the mastery on emerging from her pious adolescence, andwhen she despaired of overcoming her father's resistance to the seriousdesire she had manifested of burying herself, at fifteen, in the conventof the Rue St. Jacques, with her already formidable beauty and thenascent desire to shine and to please. That desire was at once Madame deLongueville's strength and weakness, the principle of her coquetry amidthe amusements of peace, as of her intrepidity in the midst of war anddanger. Once condemned to live in the world, she transferred the dreamsof glory which she dared not realise for herself, to gild her brother'swreath of laurel, --that Louis de Bourbon, almost of the same age asherself, the cherished companion of her infancy, so witty, so generous, so bold, that he was at once a friend and a master, and the idol of herheart, before another object had usurped the place or after he hadabandoned it. In the first and the last portion of her life, which areincomparably the best, she referred everything to Condé, and Condé had aconfidence in her altogether boundless. The suspicious and penetratingMazarin had very early formed that opinion of her, and in the _carnets_, to which he has confided his very inmost feelings, he depicts her withthe pen of an enemy, but of an enemy who knew her well. "Madame deLongueville, " says he, "has entire power over her brother. She desiresto see Condé dominate and dispose of all favours. If she is prone togallantry, it is by no means that she thinks of doing wrong, but inorder to make friends and servitors for her brother. She insinuatesambitious ideas into his mind to which he is already only too muchinclined. " If, in 1648, she became violently enraged against herbrother, it was that, fascinated and misled by La Rochefoucauld, shethought that Condé, by serving the Court and Mazarin, was false to hisown fame. In 1649, she had only too far contributed to make him enter bydegrees upon that fatal path into which La Rochefoucauld had luredherself. Here, pride nourished the hope of one day seeing the Condésreplace the D'Orleans. When, in 1850, a son was born to Gaston, thelittle Duke de Valois, who did not live, she fretted at an event whichthreatened to strengthen and perpetuate a house for which she had noaffection, and in a letter which has remained inedited up to the presentday, she allows the thoughts that had insinuated themselves into herheart to appear. "I think, " she writes to Lenet on the 22nd August, 1650, "that the news of the birth of M. D'Orleans' son will no morerejoice my sister-in-law than it has delighted me. It is to my nephewthat we must offer our condolence. " In 1651, that ambition was carriedto its highest pitch. Madame de Longueville experienced the naturalintoxication that the power and prosperity of her house was calculatedto give her; and when we think of what perils she had just surmounted, by what homage she was surrounded on all sides, that she was thenthirty-two, that she was in all the splendour of her beauty, and alsounder all the strength of her passions, we might well be disposed topardon her that fugitive intoxication, if it had not likewise drawn downdisastrous consequences upon herself, upon Condé, and upon her country. 

And here again occurs the question we have just raised. Was it Madame deLongueville who caused the rupture of the projected marriage between thePrince de Conti and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse? If hers was the chieffault, we look upon it with regret, that in the eye of posterity sheshould bear the blame of such a fault. If she only yielded to the adviceof La Rochefoucauld, we have the more excuse for her, and assert thatthe fault comes home to him. As we have seen, that affair is stillinvolved in much obscurity, and since De Retz himself hesitates, weought to feel well justified to hesitate in our turn. But it must beconfessed, the suspicions of the Frondeurs and the accusations of theQueen's friends have such great weight that it is scarcely possible toavoid attributing to Madame de Longueville a sufficiently large share inthe deplorable rupture whence so many evils sprang. Her complaisantbiographer, Villefore, is on this point in accordance with Madame deMotteville. Without doubt the marriage of the Prince de Conti withMademoiselle de Chevreuse was far from meeting with universal approval. The prudes of the Hôtel de Rambouillet, and Mademoiselle de Scuderi inparticular, protested strongly against such an alliance. The old outragewas remembered which, in 1643, Madame de Montbazon, aided by Madame deChevreuse, had dared to perpetrate upon Madame de Longueville; theaudacious manners of the mother also, which seemed to have beeninherited by the daughter; the equivocal reputation of the latter, thesuspected and almost public _liaison_ which she carried on with De Retz. Vain objections!--which Madame de Longueville could not allege, for sheperfectly well knew all that when at Stenay she had authorised thePalatine to pledge her word for hers. Other reasons for her conduct musttherefore be sought, and the reasons can only be those which her enemieshave given, and in the foremost place the jealousy of influence, thedesire of retaining over her younger brother, the Prince de Conti, anempire that Charlotte de Lorraine would, infallibly, have deprived her. 

That irreparable error, in bringing about the perilous position in whichCondé speedily found himself, necessarily led Madame de Longueville tothe commission of another error, in some sort compulsory, and which wasthe complement of the first; it is certain that more than anyone elseshe incited her brother to take the resolution he ultimately determinedupon adopting. La Rochefoucauld says so, and all contemporary writersrepeat the same. We will merely make this essential remark: Madame deLongueville had at first very readily entered into the reconciliatoryplans of Condé and La Rochefoucauld, and into their negotiations withthe Court; it was only when those designs had failed, when towards themonth of June negotiation had given place to violence, when she saw herbrother surrounded by assassins, liable at any moment to fall under theblows of Hocquincourt, or to be flung again into the dungeons ofVincennes, it was then that trembling with fear and indignation, and illas she was in health, she rushed to Saint-Maur; and that, finding therethe flower of the aristocracy and the army assembled, she felt herwarlike ardour of 1649 and 1650 rekindle. She thought that nothing couldresist on the field of battle the victor of Rocroy and Lens, seconded byTurenne, who at Stenay had shown such a lively and tender attachment forher, and the sentiment of which she had never ceased to treat with allthe exquisite tact of which she was capable. She had also greatconfidence in Spain, which was at her feet, and lavished upon her everykind of deference. She urged, therefore, Condé to fling furtherperfidious and useless negotiations to the winds, and to appeal to thefortune of arms. 

But to these different motives, the force of which Madame de Longuevillesummed up the value with the authority of her intelligence andexperience, was joined another still more potent over her heart, andwhich had been the original mainspring of her resolutions and conduct. La Rochefoucauld alone has no right to impute it to her as a crime. Forourselves, we do not hesitate to make it known upon the evidence ofirrefragable testimony; for we are not composing a panegyric of Madamede Longueville, but narrating certain passages of her life, in whichthat of the seventeenth century, with its grandeurs and its miseries, isso completely identified; and if we feel a sincere admiration for thesister of the great Condé, that admiration does not close our eyes toher errors. It is not unseemly to admire a heroine whose lofty qualitiesare mingled with weaknesses which remind us of her sex. It is, moreover, the first duty of history, such as we understand it, and desire to haveit understood, not to stop at the surface of events, but to seek fortheir causes in the depths of the soul, in human passions and theirinevitable consequences. 

As has been already said, Madame de Longueville did not love herhusband. Not only was he greatly her senior, but there was nothing abouthim that responded to the ideal which that illustrious disciple of theHôtel de Rambouillet had formed for herself, and which she pursued invain through guilty illusions, until that which she sought and found atits very source--no longer in the school of Corneille and ofMademoiselle de Scuderi, but in that of her Saviour, in the Carmeliteconvent and at Port Royal. Never was woman less prone to gallantry bynature than Anne de Bourbon; but, as we have just remarked, her heartand her imagination created in her the necessity of pleasing and ofbeing beloved; and it was that want, early cultivated by poetry, romances, and the theatre, and somewhat later corrupted by the exampleof the society in which she lived, which lured her far from the domestichearth, and hurried her into the brilliant and adventurous career amidstwhich we find her in 1651. Then her greatest fear was to fall again intoher husband's hands. M. De Longueville had very willingly followed hiswife in the Fronde; his own discontentments of themselves drove him intoit, as well as his uncertain and mobile character which led him toembark in novel enterprises with as much facility as it urged him toabandon them. In 1649 he had figured as one of the generals of Paris, and had raised Normandy against Mazarin. One year of imprisonment hadcooled him, and in 1651, having recovered his government of Normandy andtasted some few months of that peaceful grandeur, he found it so much tohis liking as to be not readily tempted to re-embark upon a stormycourse of life at the age of nearly fifty-seven. Reports, only too true, had informed him of what until then he had only surmisedimperfectly--the declared _liaison_ of his wife with La Rochefoucauld. He had been greatly irritated at it, and Condé's enemies, with De Retzat their head, carefully fostered his ill humour, and his daughter, Marie d'Orléans, afterwards Duchess de Nemours, seconded them to theutmost of her power. 

She detested her stepmother, whose faults her strong common-sense ledher easily to scan, without her own vulgar and commonplace mind beingcapable of comprehending the Duchess's great qualities. It wasimpossible less to resemble each other. The one adored grandeur even tothe romantic and the chimerical, the other was entirely positive andmatter-of-fact, and absorbed with her own interest, especially in thoserelating to her property. Alienated from the Fronde through the jealoushatred she bore towards her stepmother, who in turn liked her almost aslittle, and probably also did not take pains enough to manage her, Mademoiselle turned towards the Queen, and strove to gain over herfather to the same party. Therein she succeeded by degrees. The Duke deLongueville could not overtly separate himself from Condé, and at firstpromised him all he required; then he shut himself up in Normandy, andthere followed a dubious line of conduct which neither compromised himwith the Court party nor that of Condé. But he recalled his wifeperemptorily, and sent her a mandate to rejoin him. That mandate waspressing and threatening, and it terrified Madame de Longueville. Sheknew that her husband had been informed of everything, and that he waswholly given up to the influence of his daughter. She fearedill-treatment; she felt certain at least that once in Normandy she wouldno more quit it, and that her time would be passed between an aged, irritated husband, and an overruling step-daughter, who would applythemselves in concert to retain her in the solitude of a province, andperhaps to make her expiate in confinement her bygone triumphs. The ideaof the sorrowful life which awaited her in Normandy produced very nearlythe same effect upon her as the thought of a second imprisonment uponthe mind of Condé. She sought for a means of avoiding that which was toher the worst of all evils; there was an assured though dangerousone--war, which would prevent her from repairing to Normandy, under thepretext more or less specious that she could not abandon her brother. Such was the design she formed within herself and very soon resolvedupon adopting, and the fresh negotiations which La Rochefoucauldproposed thwarted her doubly. Should those negotiations prove successfulthey would deprive her of the only pretext she had for not rejoiningher husband in Normandy, and she thought it strange that it was LaRochefoucauld who would expose her to that peril. From that momentdoubtless angry explanations took place between them. She perceived thatLa Rochefoucauld was wearied of his sacrifices, that he wished toreconcile himself with the Court, repair his fortunes, and taste thesweets of peace; whilst in the eyes of the superb princess the paramountconsideration with him, for whom she had done so much, ought to havebeen never to forsake her, should they both together rush to certainruin. But La Rochefoucauld was no longer wound up to a tone so lofty, worthy of the Great Cyrus and of their chivalrous love of 1648, and thehaughty Madame[8] was deeply wounded at the discovery. Nevertheless, shewas not insensible to what there was of reasonable in La Rochefoucauld'sadvice, and not to incur the entire responsibility of the part which herbrother might take, she consented to follow her sister-in-law, thePrincess de Condé, and her nephew, the Duke d'Enghien, into Berri, oneof Condé's governments:--a journey which moreover had the advantage ofseparating her from her husband. She set out, therefore, on the 18th ofJuly for Bourges, taking with her the elder of her two sons, theyounger, Charles de Paris, born in 1649, not being able to bear thefatigue of the journey. M. De Longueville recalled her from Berri as hehad from the capital, and he insisted on the return of his son in termsso forcible that she was compelled to comply, so far as the boy wasconcerned. Thenceforward, being alone and exposing only herself, withoutbreaking with M. De Longueville, and by using all her wit to colour herdisobedience, she eluded his orders, remained in Berri, forming in thedepth of her heart the most ardent desire for war, but calm inappearance; sometimes accompanying the Princess de Condé to Montrond, atothers making somewhat lengthened visits to the Carmelite convent atBourges. And thus she awaited the issue of the negotiations, counselledand carried on by La Rochefoucauld, which should decide her destiny. 

 [8] The name she figures under in the _Grand Cyrus_. 

La Rochefoucauld must indeed have very earnestly longed to bring to aclose the life of fatigue and danger which he had for three years led, to have been able to cherish any illusion as to the success of the stepshe was about again to take. Where was the hope of regaining the Frondewhich had just been outrageously deceived, after it had given itself tothe Prince de Condé in his misfortune, and had extricated him from it?If La Rochefoucauld thought that the alliance of the Fronde wasnecessary, he ought to have set about it sooner and at the proper time, persuaded Condé and his sister to keep their word, and sealed thealliance agreed upon between the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle deChevreuse. He had not done so; and now that he had allowed a treacherouswar to spring up between Condé and the Fronde, by what charm did hethink he could suspend it? With the Queen also all negotiation wasexhausted and superfluous. An understanding should have been come towith her when she was so disposed, when Condé was all-powerful, when hecould either have more readily abased or exalted the Crown: _Tum decuitcum sceptra dabas_. But at the end of August, Condé, embroiled with theCourt and with the Fronde, had nothing left save his sword. That wassufficient, doubtless, to make everybody tremble, but was it enough toinspire confidence in anyone? La Rochefoucauld obtained, therefore, onall sides to his advances only very vague responses. The time fornegotiation was passed irrevocably, and whilst La Rochefoucauldexhausted himself in useless efforts, the Queen and the Fronde concludeda treaty together, with the common design of overwhelming Condé. 

This treaty was the work of Mazarin, the masterpiece of his politicalskill. It authorised the Frondeurs to speak against the Cardinal inparliament for some time forward in order to cover their secretunderstanding. The hat was assured to the Coadjutor, high posts andgreat advantages to the principal friends of Madame de Chevreuse, thefirst rank in the cabinet given to Châteauneuf, and a solid peaceestablished between Mazarin and the powerful Duchess, under thecondition that his nephew Mancini, provided for with the duchy of Neversor that of Rethelois, should marry Mademoiselle de Chevreuse. The draftof this projected treaty fell into the hands of Condé through the bearerof the paquet in which it was enclosed being in the service of theMarquis de Noirmoutier, and the Prince caused it to be printed in orderto ventilate and bring to light the alliance between the Frondeurs, theQueen, and Mazarin. Madame de Motteville, so well informed of everythingrelating to the Queen and the Cardinal, considers that treaty asperfectly authentic, and she gives the different articles of it, "as thebest means for understanding the changes which were made by the Queenimmediately after the King's majority. "

That majority had been declared on the 7th of September in a _Bed ofJustice_, with all the customary pomp. As the first Prince of the blooddid not think it possible to be present at it in safety, during thatevening the Queen in her indignation had whispered these significantwords to De Retz: "Either M. Le Prince or I must perish. "[9]

 [9] Retz, tom. Ii. P. 291. 

CHAPTER V. 

 CONDÉ, URGED BY HIS SISTER, GOES UNWILLINGLY INTO REBELLION. 

ANNE OF AUSTRIA now seriously prepared to make head against Condé, andwith that intent she rallied round her all the forces of the Frondeunited with those of the royal army. In fine, with the firm design ofinspiring the Fronde with perfect confidence, at the same time that thenomination of France to the Cardinalate had devolved upon the Coadjutor, the Queen again brought into the cabinet, as a sort of Prime Minister, the statesman of the party, the friend and instrument of Madame deChevreuse, the aged but ambitious Châteauneuf, with the two-foldengagement to serve Mazarin in secret and to contribute to the utmost ofhis power to destroy Condé. In such arrangements, let it be thoroughlyunderstood, no one was acting with good faith: De Retz and Châteauneufin nowise proposed to re-establish Mazarin; Châteauneuf did not dream ofmaking another man's bed, but, once having attained power, he intendedto keep it for himself, and Mazarin was firmly resolved to dismissChâteauneuf as soon as he could. But if these crafty politicians wereready to betray one another in everything else, there was one point onwhich they were sincerely united--the destruction of Condé. At that theylaboured in concert, or rather vied with each other. Queen Annemanifested therein a fervour, a constancy, a marvellous skill, andsucceeded in carrying off from Condé the chief supports of his greatstrength. He saw that war was inevitable, and yet, says Sismondi, heonly yielded to it with repugnance. "You will have it so, " said Condé atlast; "but understand that if I do draw the sword, I shall be the lastto return it to the scabbard. " It was the women especially who hurriedtheir admirers into the _mêlée_. 

Considering the nomination of the New Cabinet, with Châteauneuf at itshead, as a veritable declaration of war, Condé went to Chantilly, and, it is said, had a very narrow escape from falling into an ambuscadewhich the Court had prepared for him at Pontoise. 

He remained for some few days at Chantilly, pensive and agitated inpresence of the great resolution he was on the eve of taking. Themediation of the Duke d'Orleans, the only one he could accept, offeredno security, the Duke instead of governing the Coadjutor and Madame deChevreuse, was then governed by them. His individual inclination was tocome to an understanding with the Queen and even with Mazarin, as he hadvery clearly shown. He had continually returned to it; but after so manylying words and odious plots, the execution of which alone was wanting, he thought he would be in a better position to treat solidly with theCourt at the head of a powerful and victorious army, than in the midstof wretched intrigues, unworthy of his character, in which hemomentarily staked his honour and his life. He never permitted the ideaof raising himself above royalty to enter into his mind; he merelythought that to obtain better conditions from it it was necessary torender himself imposing to it, and to make himself feared. That is whatwas then passing in his mind. Civil war inspired him with horror, and wemay learn from La Rochefoucauld, [1] who was then in his most intimateconfidence, that he long weighed "the consequences of so grave adetermination. " Let us be chary, therefore, of accusing Condé of levity;let us recognise that insensibly his position had become such that hecould neither remain in it nor quit it, in one way or another, save withequal danger. 

 [1] La Rochefoucauld, p. 76. 

Among the different motives which rendered Condé averse to civil war, the passion that he had just begun to feel for the Duchess de Châtillonmust not be forgotten. We shall return a little further on to thisepisode in Condé's life. It is sufficient to remark here that it wasgrievous to him to quit the lovely Duchess, who then was residing veryclose to Chantilly, in the charming château of Merlon or Mello, nearPontoise, the enjoyment of which had been granted to her for life by theold Princess de Condé, Charlotte Marguerite de Montmorency, who expiredin her arms at Châtillon-sur-Loing, in December, 1650--a gracious grant, which the Prince, her son, had hastened to ratify with a somewhatinterested generosity. Madame de Châtillon had her reasons of more thanone kind for being opposed to the war, and in the intimate counsels ofthe Prince she urged him to an understanding with the Court. In that shemade common cause with La Rochefoucauld, and was in open quarrel withMadame de Longueville. Sensible of Condé's passion without sharing it, she managed that lofty lover with infinite tact, at the same time thatshe was deeply enamoured of the young, handsome, and brave Duke CharlesAmadeus of Savoy, Nemours, [2] who from his youth and adventurousinstincts would have longed for war, and whom she alone, seconded by LaRochefoucauld, retained in the party of peace. 

 [2] Charles Amadeus had succeeded to the title and rank of his elder brother, the Duke de Nemours, one of Condé's intimate friends in youth, who had been killed early in action, even before Rocroy. Condé had transferred to Charles Amadeus the affection which he bore his brother. The young duke had married the beautiful Madlle. De Vendôme, daughter of Duke Cæsar, and sister of the Dukes de Mercoeur and Beaufort, and by her he had two daughters who became, one the Queen of Portugal, the other the Duchess of Savoy. At the death of the Duke de Nemours, in 1652, his title passed to his younger brother Henri de Nemours, Archbishop of Rheims, who then quitted the church, and espoused Madlle. De Longueville, the authoress of the Memoirs. 

Everything, however, tended to precipitate Condé towards the fatalresolution. Prudence did not permit him to remain any longer atChantilly, [3] and it behoved him to place himself beyond the risk of a_coup-de-main_ by withdrawing to his government of Berri, whither he hadalready sent his son, his wife, and his sister. It was, it is true, theroad to Guienne, but he might stop there. All the population was devotedto him, and the tower of Bourges and the strong fortalice of Montrondoffered him a safe asylum. 

 [3] La Rochefoucauld, p. 96. 

Condé, even after reaching Berri, still hesitated, not wishing to takeany step before again conferring with his sister, who was then atMontrond with the Princess. There he held a final council, a supremedeliberation, at which Madame de Longueville, Conti, and LaRochefoucauld were present. More than one grave motive urged him to war:the well-founded dread of assassination or of a fresh incarceration, theardent hatred of his enemies, of the Queen and the Fronde, the power ofChâteauneuf which certainly had not been given him in vain, theinutility of negotiations with people who seemed decidedly to have takentheir choice, the necessity of avoiding the fate of Henri de Guise, theconsciousness of his strength so soon as his foot should tread thefield of battle, the promises seemingly so sure of the Bouillons andmany others. At the same time, his good sense, his loyalty, the scarcelystifled instincts of duty, and his innate aversion for anything whichresembled anarchy, restrained him; and in that prolonged and dubiousstruggle between conflicting feelings, there were others which hurriedhim onward. Madame de Longueville, the Prince de Conti, La Rochefoucauldalso urged him to declare himself against the Court, and Madame deLongueville with more vivacity than anyone else. [4] Condé stillresisted, explaining to them all the strength of royalty, the ascendancyof the King's name, the weakness and treachery of factions, the badfaith of Spain. Then concluding by yielding, he addressed them in thesememorable words: "You commit me to a strange line of action, of whichyou will tire sooner than I, and in which you will abandon me. " He spoketruly as regarded Conti, and perhaps also La Rochefoucauld; but itremains to be seen whether Madame de Longueville, after having helped todrive her heroic brother into civil war, did not follow him with aninviolable constancy, whether she did not share, even to extremity, thedangers and adversities of the Prince, and whether, during his longexile, she reappeared for a single moment at Court or in those _salons_of the Louvre and the Palais Royal, which had witnessed her earlysuccesses, and in which her wit and beauty still promised her freshtriumphs. 

 [4] Mad. De Motteville. 

CHAPTER VI. 

 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE COQUETS WITH THE DUKE DE NEMOURS. 

HIS determination to unsheath the sword once taken, Condé put his plansinto execution without throwing one glance behind him. Having collectedtogether in Berri his family and chief supporters, he distributedamongst them the several parts they had to play in their commonenterprise. After this, accompanied by La Rochefoucauld, he went to takepossession of his new government of Guienne, and there raise thestandard of insurrection, leaving in Berri his wife and son, his sister, the Prince de Conti, the Duke de Nemours, with the President Violé andothers whom he nominated to important functions. He had placed hisbrother at the head of affairs there, and given the military command tothe Duke de Nemours. But the result of these arrangements wasdisappointing to him. The Duke de Nemours undoubtedly possessed the mostbrilliant courage, but he had neither the talents nor the steadiness ofa general. Still absorbed with his passion for Madame de Châtillon, who, as has been said, had long retained him in the party of peace, he foundin Berri a counter-attraction in Madame de Longueville who drew himtowards that of war; and it would seem that he occupied himself morewith paying court to the lovely lady than of raising and arming soldiersand making Berri a focus of resistance, both political and military;for very speedily the Prince de Conti and he were reduced to defendthemselves in Bourges instead of being able to operate in the open andmake any advance. The new Minister Châteauneuf showed himself worthy ofthe confidence of Madame de Chevreuse and the Fronde. He made the Queenunderstand that it was necessary to combat the revolt foot to foot fromits very first step, and he persuaded her to march herself with theyoung King into Berri at the head of a strong army. He nobly inauguratedthe new ministry by that measure, which had two objects: the one directand immediate, to strangle the insurrection at its birth; the otherstill more important, to set royalty at liberty far from Duke Gaston andthe Parliament. The city of Bourges, which had shown so much enthusiasmon Condé's arrival, opened its gates to the King and Châteauneuf. Thestrong tower which defended the city, offering no resistance, was takenwithout a blow being struck, and instantly demolished. The Princess deCondé, her son, Madame de Longueville, Conti, and Nemours were forced totake refuge hastily in the citadel of Montrond. On learning that Palluanwas advancing on that fortress, Conti and Nemours not wishing that theprecious pledges confided to their charge should incur any risk, leftthe Marquis de Persan in Montrond, and with what remained to them oftheir faithful troops escorted the Princess, her son, and Madame deLongueville as far as Guienne, which they reached by the end of themonth of October. 

It was during that rapid journey and their very brief sojourn in Berrithat certain obscure relations, it would appear, were formed between theDuke de Nemours and Madame de Longueville, the report of which reachingBordeaux, exaggerated probably by interested and malevolent underlings, wounded La Rochefoucauld and drove him to a violent rupture. A loyal andconfiding explanation might have sufficed to disperse a cloud, such asat times will obscure the most settled friendships. La Rochefoucauldbrewed a storm out of it which, thanks to his Memoirs, has sent itsechoes down to posterity. His separation from Madame de Longueville wasmarked by an eagerness which excites the suspicion that he had longedfor it. [1] He ought at least to have stopped there, but hurried away byan implacable resentment, he accused her, or caused her to be accused byCondé, of having wished to betray his interests to serve those of theDuke de Nemours, giving her even to understand that "if a likeprepossession took her for another, she was capable of going to the sameextremities if that person desired it. "[2] The accusation is yet moreabsurd than odious. The Duke de Nemours was not the least in the world aparty chief; he was a friend of Condé, whose fidelity could only beshaken through his love for Madame de Châtillon. To detach him fromMadame de Châtillon was therefore to give him wholly to Condé. Moreover, Madame de Châtillon, like La Rochefoucauld, was for peace, she had wonover the Duke de Nemours to it, and both together urged Condé thereto. To carry off the Duke de Nemours from such conspiracy and to seduce himto the war party, was to serve the interests of Condé like as his sisterintended. Thus the principal and the dominant motive of Madame deLongueville's conduct was just the opposite of that which LaRochefoucauld imputed to her. Let us add further that she had always hada rivalry of beauty with Madame de Châtillon, and that her vanity wasnot sorry to humiliate a rival whom she did not tolerate by deprivingher for a few days of a lover of whose attachment the latter fanciedherself perfectly secure. Love and the senses had nothing to do with itin this matter. The gratification of the senses, it has already beenremarked, did not ensnare her; she was proof against their surprises. Previously the Duke de Nemours had addressed his ardent homage to her, but all the attractions of his handsome person and his lofty bearing hadmade no impression upon her, and she only bestowed a thought on theamiable Duke when she had some interest to forward by reviving suchconquest. And this is not an opinion hazarded at a venture; it isfurnished us by a person thoroughly well informed, and who had noaffection for Madame de Longueville; the testimony therefore is the morevaluable: "M. De Nemours[3] previously had not much pleased her, andnotwithstanding the attachment he appeared to entertain for her, as wellas all the good qualities and grand airs of which he could boast, shehad found nothing charming about him save the pleasure he showed himselfdesirous of giving her by abandoning Madame de Châtillon for herself, and that which she had of depriving a woman whom she did not like of afriend of so much consequence. " Now how far had this _liaison_ of a fewdays gone? Bussy is the only contemporary who offers any reply to thisquestion in the cynical light of his _Histoire amoreuse des Gaules_. Butwho would accept that satire literally? It proves only one thing, theunfortunate notoriety which the imprudence of Madame de Longuevillederived from the Memoirs of La Rochefoucauld published in 1662. Beforethose Memoirs saw the light, not a word is anywhere to be found on apoint as obscure as it is delicate. After, Bussy was delighted to repeatLa Rochefoucauld, and Madame de Longueville has thus fallen into thescandalous chronicle. 

 [1] "La Rochefoucauld, depuis assez longtemps ayant envie de la quitter, prit cette occasion avec joie. "--Mad. De Nemours, p. 150. 

 [2] La Rochefoucauld, edition 1662, p. 198. 

 [3] Mad. De Nemours, pp. 149, 150. 

Let us abstain from defending her; although even we should be convincedthat she knew where to stop in that dangerous game of coquetry, she isnot the less culpable in our eyes both towards La Rochefoucauld andherself, and we do not hesitate to say that she went so far as todeserve the calumny. Doubtless she was justly hurt by the incertitude ofLa Rochefoucauld, who, after having plunged her into civil war in 1648with no other motive than that of his own interest, would have made herabandon it in 1651 through the same motive still; which at one momentimpelled her towards the Fronde, at another brought her back to theCourt, at the will of his fickle hopes, and linked her with Madame deChâtillon for the purpose of engaging Condé in negotiations the successof which involved their separation and procured her a prison inNormandy. Yes--she had grave cause of complaint against LaRochefoucauld. She might have quitted him, it is true, but not foranother. She had only one means of covering, of almost condoning thesingle error of her life, which was to maintain faithful to it, or torenounce it for virtue and Heaven. And it is just that which Madame deLongueville appears to have done, if that sad and rapid episode hadremained unknown; but there is no favourable shade for those personageswho appear in the glaring front of the stage of this world; theirslightest actions do not escape the formidable light of history: theweakness of a moment is recorded as an irredeemable error against them. That of Madame de Longueville, fugitive as it may have been, dubiouseven as it was, sufficed to tarnish a fidelity until then victoriousover so many trials; it needed to be atoned for by the sincereconversion which was speedily about to follow it, and by five-and-twentyyears of the severest penitence; and still further it forces us to placeAnne de Bourbon, in the record of great sentiments and exalted loves, above Heloise and Mademoiselle de la Vallière. 

At any rate the assurance is consoling that this error, which we haveattempted neither to conceal nor extenuate, is the single oneperceptible in the private life of Madame de Longueville. But let usturn aside from these wretched instances of feminine fragility in one ofthe loftiest minds, in order to follow Condé and the march of events inGuienne. 

We will first, however, by a brief retrospect, endeavour to render theshifting phases of the two Fronde wars more capable of being easilyfollowed. 

Dating from the arrest of Broussel, nothing could exceed the rapidity ofevents; the wheel of fortune had turned with such terrific mobility forthose of her favourites who sought to attach themselves to it. Therevolt had, in fact, broken out on the 26th of August, 1648; in January, 1649, the Court withdrew to Saint Germain, at the risk of neverre-entering Paris; in April, the sword of Condé imposed the treaty ofSaint Germain, and the King returned in October. Mazarin shortlyafterwards believed himself strong enough to arrest, in January, 1650, Condé, Conti, and Longueville. A year after that bold _coup d'état_ hewas himself obliged to flee (February, 1651) from his enemies, and quitFrance. At the end of eight months, Mazarin returned with an army to theaid of royalty; but it required two years of negotiations, intrigues, and patient waiting, it needed the errors which the indecision of theDuke d'Orleans brought about, the rash violence of Condé, urged onwardsby his sister, it required, indeed, the entire ruin of France ere theCardinal could, after having led the young King by the hand to the verygates of his capital, resume that place in the Louvre which he hadsagaciously abandoned. 

It is difficult to narrate occurrences in their proper order during thisperiod: intrigues, broken promises, pledges given to two differentparties at the same time, such were the smallest misdeeds of all theseprinces and prelates. As one step further in wrong-doing, they enteredinto negotiations with the foreigner, and invited armies across thefrontier which devastated the provinces. And through what motives? Gondywished to avenge his former mistress, whom Conti had rejected, and whoman agent of Condé, Maillard the shoemaker, had publicly insulted. Condé's pretensions were nothing less than dragging at his heels a squadof governors of towns and provinces who, at his summons, would be everready to raise the standard of revolt and to impose the will of theirleader upon the head of the state, whether Minister, Queen, or King. Orleans would not yield one jot to his young cousin of the blood-royal, Condé; Madame de Longueville feared the severity of an outraged husband. The civil war, in forcing her to flee from one end of France to theother, or abroad, could alone delay her return to Normandy, herre-establishment beneath the conjugal roof, towards which she hadconceived such an aversion. 

Condé accused Gondy in the Parliament chamber of being author of a_factum_ condemning severely the Prince's conduct. La Rochefoucauld, getting Gondy between two doors, treacherously seized, and was about tostrangle him, had not the son of the first President, M. DeChamplatreux, come to the rescue, at the very moment that one of thebullies in Condé's pay had drawn his dagger to despatch him. 

Two days afterwards (17th of September) the King had attained histhirteenth year, and one day beyond; and by the ordonnance of Charles V. Became of age and capable of governing for himself. 

A change of ministry--Châteauneuf being recalled to head the Council andMolé to the Seals--deprived Condé of all hope of imposing the conditionsof a reconciliation; therefore, as has been said, at a Council held atChantilly with his chief adherents, Conti, and the Dukes de Nemours andLa Rochefoucauld, he determined to set out for Berri. The impartialstudent who examines the conduct of the Prince de Condé is at thisjuncture compelled to draw an indictment against him, under pain ofbelying his conscience and the truth; he must concede that Condé rashlyengaged in civil war, and exerted himself to drag France into it, solelybecause he could not endure any authority above his own. He was desirousof being first in the State, of disposing at will among his creatures ofhonours, dignities, strongholds, and governments. On such conditions, hewould have consented to let Mazarin, Orleans, De Retz, or any other, govern the realm, for the administration of which he felt himself thathe had neither the slightest inclination nor the smallest capacity(October, 1651). 

The Fronde is reputed, not without reason, to have been one of the mostinteresting as well as _diverting_ periods in French history; that inwhich the volatile and frivolous vivacity of the national charactershone with irresistible comicality. How striking was the contrastbetween it in its main features and the great Civil War waged at thesame time in our own country! Yet the Fronde had its serious--terribleaspect, too, in the wide-spread misery it entailed upon France, as maybe seen from the valuable statistical researches of M. Feillet. Thatwriter cites the following passage from the record of an eye-witness ofwhat he describes:[4]--"No tongue can tell, no pen describe, no ear mayhear that which we have seen (at Rheims, Châlons, Rethel, &c). Famineand death on all sides, and bodies unburied. Those remaining alive pickup from the fields the rotten oat-straw, and make bread of it by mixingit with mud. Their faces are quite black; they have no longer thesemblance of human beings, but that of phantoms.... War has placed everyone on an equality; nobility lies upon straw, dares not beg, anddies.... Even lizards are eaten, and dogs which have been dead perhapssome eight days.... Moreover, in Picardy, a band of five hundredchildren, orphans, and under seven years of age, was met with. InLorraine, the famished nuns quitted their convents and becamemendicants: the poor creatures gave themselves up to be dishonoured forthe sake of a morsel of bread. No pity, no remorse. An execrable andsanguinary war upon the weak. In the heart of the city of Rheims, abeautiful girl was chased from street to street for ten days by thelicentious soldiery; and as they could not catch her, they killed her byshooting her down. In the vicinity of Angers, Alais, and Condom, uponall the highways of Lorraine, women and children were indiscriminatelyoutraged, and left to die drenched in their blood. "

 [4] La Misère dans la Fronde. 

What could be more _diverting_? The Duke de Lorraine--that restlessknight-errant who preferred amusing himself with civil war to the quietenjoyment of his throne--amused the noble ladies of his acquaintancewith a recital of these pleasant incidents; his gallant army, he said, was quite a providence for the old women.... 

After further pursuing his appalling statistics of the misery andhorrors inflicted by the Fronde at a later date, M. Feilletremarks:--"And yet, notwithstanding all this suffering, which we haveonly cursorily sketched, at Court nothing else was thought of but fêtesand diversions; for the young and brilliant bevy of Mazarin's nieces hadcome to increase the circle of beauties whom the youthful King and hisgay courtiers vied with each other in paying homage to, andentertaining. The warm attachment of Louis for more than one of hisMinister's nieces, and especially Marie de Mancini, is well known. Inimitation of their Sovereign, the youthful nobility and a large portionof the city gallants plunged into unrestrained dissipation--intervals oflicentiousness ever succeeding like periods of turbulence and anarchy. Such heartless indifference to the sufferings of the people on the partof the King and his Court evoked the following couplet, which was putinto the mouth of Louis by a contemporary pamphleteer:--

"Si la France est en deuil, qu'elle pleure et soupire; Pour moi, je veux chasser, galantiser et rire. "

But we are somewhat anticipating events, and therefore return to them inthe order of time. 

BOOK V. 

CHAPTER I. 

 CONDÉ'S ADVENTUROUS EXPEDITION. 

CONDÉ passed several months in Guienne, occupied with strengthening andextending the insurrection at the head of which he had placed himself, and in repulsing as far as possible in the south the royal army, commanded by the skilful and experienced Count d'Harcourt. Amidst veryvaried successes, he learned from different quarters the bad turn whichthe Fronde's affairs was taking in the heart of the kingdom, theintrigues of De Retz who held the key of Paris, and the deplorable stateof the army on the banks of the Loire. 

On receiving these tidings at Bordeaux in the month of March, 1652, Condé saw clearly the double danger which menaced him, and immediatelyfaced it in his wonted manner. Instead of awaiting events which were onthe eve of taking place at a distance, he determined on anticipatingthem, and formed an extraordinary resolution, of a character very muchresembling his great military manoeuvres, which at first sight appearsextravagant, but which the gravest reason justifies, and the temerity ofwhich even is only another form of high prudence. He formed the designof slipping out of Bordeaux, traversing the lines of Count d'Harcourt, to get over in the best way he might the hundred and fifty leagues whichseparated him from the Loire and Paris, to appear there suddenly, andto place himself at the head of his affairs. 

He left behind him in Guienne a force sufficiently imposing to allow ofit there awaiting in security the successful results he was about toseek. In possessing himself of Agen, Bergerac, Perigueux, Cognac, andeven for a moment of Saintes, and by pushing his conquests into HauteGuienne, on the side of Mont-de-Marsan, Dax, and Pau, he had madeBordeaux the capital of a small but rich and populous kingdom, surrounded on all sides by a belt of strongholds, communicating with thesea by the Gironde, and admirably placed for attack or defence. Thiskingdom, backed as it was by Spain, was capable of receiving continuoussuccour from Santander and St. Sebastian, and a Spanish fleet couldapproach by the Tour de Corduan, bringing subsidies and troops, whilstCount de Dognon's fleet, sailing from the islands of Ré and Oléron tojoin it, might easily surround and even beat the royal fleet, thenforming at Brouage under the Duke de Vendôme. In 1650, during theimprisonment of the princes, Bordeaux had defended itself for more thansix months against a considerable army with the young king at its head, and which was directed by Mazarin in person. Condé, and all his familywere adored there, by reason of the hatred felt for his predecessor, theimperious Duke d'Epernon. The Bordeaux parliament was also equallyinvolved in the Fronde as was that of Paris, with which it had allieditself by a solemn declaration. Under the parliament was a brave andardent people, which furnished a numerous militia. 

Condé had named the Prince de Conti his lieutenant-general--a prince ofthe blood giving lustre to authority, dominating all rivalries, anappointment calculated to render obedience more easy. He was aware ofConti's levity, but he knew also that he was wanting neither inintelligence nor courage. He believed in the ascendency which Madame deLongueville had always exercised over her brother, and he hoped shewould guide him still. He had confidence in that high-souled sister whomformerly he had so warmly loved; and although intrigues and a sinisterinfluence, to which we shall shortly further allude, had diminished thehigh admiration he had had for her, and to which he later returned, hereckoned upon her intelligence, upon her pride, upon that lofty courageof which she had given so many proofs at Stenay. At his sister's side heleft his wife Claire Clémence de Maillé-Brézé, who had behaved soadmirably in the first Guienne war. He left her _enceinte_ with theirsecond child, and with her he gave to Bordeaux and placed as it were inpledge in its hands, to hold the place of himself, the Duke d'Enghien, the hope and stay of his house, the peculiar object of his tenderness. So that there, he left behind him a government, he thought, which wouldlook well alike in the eyes of France and of Europe. 

In reality, to what did Condé aspire? To constitute himself the head ofthe nobility against the Court? The nobles thought it harsh to be sotreated. To commence another Fronde? To do that, it was necessary tohave the parliaments under his thumb; and he had already been compelledto threaten the deputies of that of Aix with the bastinado. Did he lookforward to an independent principality, as he later on desired to obtainfrom the Spaniards? Or rather did he think of snatching from the Duked'Orleans the lieutenant-generalship? It is difficult to divine what mayhave passed through his capricious brain. He was constant in nothing. Itwas seen later still that he would very willingly have changed hisreligion, offering himself on the one side to Cromwell, and to become aprotestant in order to have an English army; on the other to the Pope, if he would help to get him elected King of Poland. 

The income of the Condés in 1609 amounted to ten thousand livres, and in1649, besides the Montmorency estates, they held an enormous portion ofFrance. First, by the Great Condé, they had Burgundy, Berri, the marshesof Lorraine, a dominant fortress in the Bourbonnais that held in checkfour provinces. Secondly, by Conti, Champagne. Thirdly, by Longueville, their sister's husband, Normandy. Fourthly, the Admiralty, and Saumur, the chief fortress of Anjou, were in the hands of the brother of Condé'swife; they fell in through his death, and were sold again by them asthough they were a family birthright. Later still, they negotiated forthe possession of Guienne and Provence. 

Amidst the cares of administration and of war, Condé carried on anassiduous correspondence with Chavigny, then fallen into disgrace, whokept him well informed of the state of affairs at Court and in Paris. They had assumed quite a new face during the last few months. Mazarin inhis exile had not learned without inquietude the ever-increasing successof Châteauneuf. He saw him active and determined, accepted as a chief byall colleagues, skilfully seconded by the keeper of the seals, Molé, andby Marshal de Villeroi, the king's governor, an ambiguous personage, very ambitious at bottom, and jealous of the Cardinal's favour with theQueen. Châteauneuf, it is true, had only entered the Cabinet under theagreement of shortly recalling Mazarin; but he incessantly asked forfresh delay; he tried to make the Queen comprehend the danger of aprecipitate return, --the Fronde ready to arouse itself anew, the Duked'Orleans and the Coadjutor resuming their ancient opposition, androyalty finding itself once more without any solid support. Anne ofAustria gradually acquiescing in these wise counsels, Mazarin, who atfirst had with difficulty restrained the impatient disposition of theQueen, finding her grown less eager, became alarmed: he saw that he waslost should he allow such a rival to establish himself. [1] Therefore, passing suddenly from an apparent resignation to an extraordinaryaudacity, he had, towards the end of November 1651, broken his ban, quitted his retreat at Dinan, and had resolutely entered France with asmall force collected together by his two faithful friends, the Marquisde Navailles and the Count de Broglie, and led by Marshal Hocquincourt. He had by main strength surmounted every obstacle, braved the decreesand the deputies of the parliament, reached Poitiers where the Queen andyoung Louis the Fourteenth had eagerly welcomed him; and there, inJanuary 1652, after speedily ridding himself of Châteauneuf, too proudand too able to be resigned to hold the second rank, he had again takenin hand the reins of government. 

 [1] Mad. De Motteville, tom. V. P. 96. 

This bold conduct, which probably saved Mazarin, came also to thesuccour of Condé. The second and irreparable disgrace of the minister ofthe old Fronde had exasperated him as well as had the umbrage given himby the Duke d'Orleans. He thought himself tricked by the Queen, and hadloudly complained of it. Condé's friends had not failed to seize thatoccasion to reconcile him with the Duke, and to negotiate a freshalliance between them; and as previously the Fronde and the Queen hadbeen united against Condé, so also at the end of January 1652, thatPrince and the Fronde in almost its entirety were united againstMazarin. 

Madame de Chevreuse alone, with her most intimate friends, remainedfaithful to her hatred and the Queen, dreading far less Mazarin thanCondé, and choosing between them both for once and for all with herwell-known firmness and resolution. De Retz trimmed, followed the Duked'Orleans, using tact with the Queen, so that he might not lose the hat, and without engaging himself personally with Condé. 

If Burnet is to be believed, it was at this conjunction that Condé madean offer to Cromwell to turn Huguenot, and embrace the faith of hisancestors, in order to secure the aid of the English Puritans. 

However that might be, it was not illusory to think that with such agovernment and the continual assistance of Spain, Bordeaux might holdout for at least a year, and give Condé time to strike some decisiveblows. The resolution that he took was therefore as rational as it wasgreat. It would have been a sovereign imprudence to remain in Guiennemerely to engage Harcourt in a series of trifling skirmishes, and aftermuch time and trouble take a few little paltry towns, when in the heartof the kingdom a treason or a defeat might irreparably involve the lossof everything, and condemn Bordeaux to share the common fate, after amore or less prolonged existence. Taking one thing with another, Guiennewas doubtless a considerable accessory; but the grand struggle was notto be made there; it was at Paris and upon the banks of the Loire thatthe destiny of the Fronde and that of Condé too must be decided; it wasthither, therefore, that he must hasten. Every day brought him tidingsthat jealousies, divisions, quarrels were increasing in the army, and hetrembled to receive, some morning, news that Turenne and Hocquincourthad beaten Nemours and Beaufort, and were marching on Paris. Desirous ofpreventing at any price a disaster so irreparable, he resolved to rushto the point where the danger was supreme, where his unexpected presencewould strike terror into the souls of his enemies, revive the courage ofhis partisans and turn fortune to his side. When Cæsar, on arriving inGreece, learned that the fleet which was following him with his army onboard, had been dispersed and destroyed by that of Pompey, he flunghimself alone into a fisherman's bark under cover of night to cross thesea into Asia to seek for the legions of Antony, and return with them togain the battle of Pharsalia. When Napoleon learned in Egypt the stateof France, from the shameful doings of the Directory, the agitation ofparties, and that already more than one general was meditating another18th of Brumaire, he did not hesitate, and however rash it might appearto attempt to pass through the English fleet in a small craft, at therisk of being taken, or sent to the bottom, he dared every peril, and bydint of address and audacity succeeded in gaining the shores of France. Condé did the same, and at the end of March 1652, he undertook to makehis way from the banks of the Gironde to the banks of the Loire, withoutother escort than that of a small number of intrepid friends, andsustained solely by the vivid consciousness of the necessity of thatbold step, his familiarity with and secret liking for danger, hisincomparable presence of mind and his customary gaiety. 

On Palm Sunday, 1652, Condé set forth upon his adventurous expedition. He was accompanied by six persons, La Rochefoucauld and his youthfulson, the Prince de Marcillac, the Count de Guitaut, the Count deChavagnac, a valet named Rochefort, and the indefatigable Gourville, under whose directions all the arrangements of the journey seem to havebeen contrived. The whole party were disguised as common troopers, andeach took a false name, even amongst themselves. For some time theyfollowed the Bordeaux road, and using many precautions proceeded untilthey reached Cahusac, where they encountered some troops belonging to LaRochefoucauld; but being anxious almost as much to avoid their ownpartizans as the enemy, Condé and his companions hid themselves in abarn, while Gourville went out to forage. He succeeded in procuring somescanty fare; and they rode on till some hours had passed afternightfall, when they reached a little wayside inn, where Condévolunteered to cook an omelet for the whole party. The hand, however, which could wield a truncheon with such effect, proved somewhat tooviolent for the frying-pan, and in the attempt to turn the omelet, hethrew the whole hissing mass into the fire. 

The little band having reached a certain spot, quitted the main road, and began to traverse the enemy's lines. For eight days they encounteredmany perilous incidents and underwent incredible fatigue, ridingthroughout the same horses, never stopping more than two hours to eat orsleep, avoiding towns and crossing rivers as they best could; threadingat first the gorges of the Auvergne mountains, then descending by theBec d'Allier, and making their way to the Loire. The memoirs of LaRochefoucauld and Gourville must be consulted for the details of thatextraordinary journey, and all the dangers it presented. No less thanten times did they escape being taken and slain. Their wearied horses atlast could carry them no longer. La Rochefoucauld was tormented by thegout, and his son was so worn out with fatigue that he fell asleep ashe went. Condé, whose iron frame resisted to the last, was aloneindefatigable, sleeping and working at will, and always cheerful andgood humoured. 

Upon approaching Gien, at which place the Court then was, Condé hadtwice very nearly fallen into the hands of parties sent out to take himalive or dead. Having escaped almost by a miracle, on the last occasion, soon after reaching Châtillon, he gained information that the army ofBeaufort and Nemours lay at about eight leagues from that place, andhastened with all speed to join it. At length, to his great joy, he sawthe advanced guard before him, and several of the troopers camegalloping up with a loud "_Qui vive!_" Some of them, however, almostinstantly recognised Condé, and shouts of joy and surprise soon madeknown through the whole army what had occurred. 

He found the forces of the Fronde as divided as were its chiefs. He tookthe command of it immediately; thus doing away with the principal causeof the jealousy existing between Nemours and Beaufort. He reviewed andreunited it, gave it one day's rest, seized, without striking a blow, onMontargis and Château-Renard, and threw himself with the utmost rapidityon the royal army. It was scattered in quarters distant from each otherfor the convenience of foraging, and on account of the little dread withwhich Beaufort and Nemours had inspired it. Marshal d'Hocquincourt wasencamped at Bleneau, and Turenne a little farther off, at Briare; thetwo Marshals were to unite their forces on the morrow. Condé did notgive them time for that: that same evening, and during the nights of the6th and 7th of April, 1652, he fell upon the head-quarters ofHocquincourt, overwhelmed them, and succeeded in routing the rest, thanks to one of those charges in flank which he in person ever led soenergetically. Hocquincourt, after fighting like a gallant soldier, wasforced to fall back for some leagues in the direction of Auxerre, havinglost all his baggage and three thousand horse. No sooner did Turennehear of the fact, than he sprang into the saddle, and marched with someinfantry both to the assistance of his brother officer and to thedefence of the King, who, resting secure at Gien, might have fallen intothe hands of the rebels. As he advanced through the darkness of thenight, the Marshal saw the quarters of Hocquincourt in one blaze offire, and exclaiming, with the appreciation which genius has of genius, "The Prince de Condé is arrived!" he hurried on with the utmost speed. Having neither cavalry nor artillery, and having sent word toHocquincourt to rally to him as soon as possible, he marched on in goodorder throughout that long and dark night to join the bulk of his troopswhich Navailles and Palluan were bringing up. For an instant he haltedin a plain where there stood a rather dense wood on his left, with amarsh on his right. Those around Condé thought it an advantageous post;Condé judged very differently. "If M. De Turenne makes a stand there, "said he, "I shall soon cut him to pieces; but he will take good care notto do so. "[2] He had not left off speaking when he saw that Turenne wasalready retiring, too skilful to await Condé in the plain and exposehimself to the Prince's formidable manoeuvres. A little further off, he found a position much more favourable; there he firmly posted hisforce, determined to give battle. In vain did his officers urge him notto hazard an action, not to risk the last army which remained to themonarchy, and to confine himself to covering Gien whilst awaiting thecoming of Hocquincourt. "_No_, " replied he, "_we must conquer or perishhere. _"

 [2] It is Tavannes who has preserved the details of this interesting incident. 

Turenne, it is true, was very inferior in cavalry to Condé, but he had apowerful and well-served artillery. Having encouraged his troops to dotheir duty, he posted himself upon an eminence which he covered withinfantry and artillery, drew up his cavalry below in a plain too narrowto permit of Condé deploying his own, and which could only be reached bytraversing a thick wood and a causeway intersected by ditches and boggyground. From such strong position, Condé could, in his turn, recognisehis illustrious disciple. No great manoeuvres were then practicable, and as time did not permit of an attempt to turn Turenne, it wasnecessary to crush him out of hand, if that were possible, before hecould effect a junction with Hocquincourt. The defile was the key of theposition; and both sides fought therein with equal fierceness. Turennedefended himself sword in hand, and upon the six squadrons which Condéhurled against him he opened a battery, as they passed, with terribleexecution, showing a courage equal to that of his heroic adversary. Condé, judging from what he now saw, believed the position in the handsof Turenne to be impregnable; and it being too late to execute any othermanoeuvres with success during that day, he continued to cannonade theroyalist army till the evening, without any other attempt to bring it toa battle. 

Napoleon has not spared Condé in this affair any more than othercritics. He sums all their opinions up in one piquant phrase, which itappears he was unable to resist, and which made him smile in utteringit. "Condé, " said he, "for that once, was wanting in boldness. " Thedictum is both brief and incisive, but there was no foundation for it, in a military point of view. There was, in truth, no want of boldness onCondé's part throughout that campaign: far from it, his whole line ofconduct was a succession of audacious actions and combinations. Whatcould be bolder than that forced journey of nearly ten days for morethan one hundred and fifty miles with half-a-dozen followers to go andtake the command of an army? What bolder than the resolution taken outof hand to throw himself between Turenne and Hocquincourt, to cut in twothe royal army and to disperse one half of it before attacking theother? Did Condé lose a moment in marching against Turenne and pursuinghim sword in hand? Was it his fault that he had to cope with a greatcaptain, who knew how to select an excellent position, and to maintainhimself in it with immovable firmness? In the attack of that position, did Napoleon mean to reproach Condé with want of boldness? Turenne, itis true, covered himself with glory, for he successfully resisted Condé;but Condé, in not having been victorious, was not in the slightestdegree beaten. The strategy, therefore, on that occasion wasirreproachable. As will be seen, it was in his policy only that hefailed. Condé quitted the army at a very ill-timed moment, in ouropinion, but that step was taken through considerations which hadnothing to do with the science of war. 

To revert for a moment to this much-criticised action of Bleneau. Towards night, Hocquincourt appeared upon the field, having rallied aconsiderable part of his cavalry. Condé then retired, finding that hisattempt was frustrated, and took the way to Montargis; while Turennerejoined the Court, and was received by the Queen with all thegratitude which such great services merited. Her first words went tothank him for _having placed the crown a second time upon her son'shead_. 

The terror and confusion which had reigned in Gien during the whole ofthe preceding night and that day may very well be conceived when it isremembered that the safety of the King himself, as well as the Queen, was at stake, and that the life of the favourite Minister might at anymoment be placed at the mercy of his bitterest enemy, justified inputting him to death immediately by the highest legal authority in therealm. Neither were the ill-disciplined and irregular forces of Condé atall desirable neighbours to the troop of ladies who had followed theCourt; and, as soon as it was known that Condé had fallen uponHocquincourt, the whole of the little town was one scene of dismay andconfusion. 

The royal army and that of Condé now both marched towards Paris, nearlyupon two parallel lines. But the great distress which the Court sufferedfrom want of money caused almost as much insubordination to be apparentamongst the troops of the King as amongst those of the rebels. Littlerespect was shown to Mazarin himself; and the young King was oftentreated with but scanty ceremony, and provided for but barely. 

After quitting the neighbourhood of Gien, Condé, urged by the desire ofdirecting in person the negotiations and intrigues which were going onin Paris, left his army under the command of the celebrated Tavannes, and hastened to the capital. The Count de Tavannes, whom he had selectedto fill his own place, was without doubt an excellent officer, one ofthe valiant _Petits-maîtres_[3] who, upon the field of battle, servedas wings to the great soldier's thoughts, carried his orders everywhere, executed the most dangerous manoeuvres, sometimes charging with anirresistible impetuosity, at others sustaining the most terrible onsetswith a firmness and solidity beyond all proof. But though the intrepidTavannes was quite capable of leading the division of a great army, hewas not able enough to be its commander-in-chief, and he had notauthority over the foreign troops which the Duke de Nemours had broughtfrom Flanders, and which he made over, on accompanying Condé to Paris, to the command of the Count de Clinchamp. The army, thus divided, wascapable of nothing great. Condé alone could finish what he had begun. Once engaged in the formidable enterprise that he had undertaken againstthe Queen and Mazarin, there was no safety for him but in carrying itout even to the end. He ought, therefore, to have waged war to theknife, if the expression be allowable, against Turenne, conquered orperished, and to have constrained Mazarin to flee for good and all toGermany or Italy, and the Queen to place in his hands the young King. Todo that, Condé should have had a definite ambition, an object clearlydetermined; he ought to have plainly proposed to himself to assume theRegency, or at least the lieutenant-generalship of the kingdom in theplace of Gaston, by will or by force, in order to concentrate all powerin his own hands; that he might become, in short, a Cromwell or aWilliam III. : and Condé was neither the one or the other. His mind hadbeen perturbed by sinister dreams; but, as has been remarked, he had atheart an invincible fund of loyalty. Ambition was rather hovering roundhim than within himself. But whatsoever it was he desired, and in everyhypothesis--for his secret has remained between Heaven and himself--hedid wrong in abandoning the Loire and leaving Turenne in force there. That was the true error he committed, and not in wanting audacity, asNapoleon supposed. It was not a military but a political error--immenseand irreparable. He might have crushed Turenne, and ought to haveattempted it, but he let him slip from his grasp. The opportunity oncelost did not return. Turenne until then was only second in rank; by aglorious resistance he acquired from that moment, and it was forced uponhim to maintain, the importance of a rival of Condé. Mazarin grew fromday to day more emboldened; royalty, which had been on the very brink ofruin, again rose erect, and the Court drew towards Paris; whilst, prompted by his evil genius, quitting the field of battle wherein layhis veritable strength, Condé went away to waste his precious time in alabyrinth of intrigues for which he was not fitted, and in which he losthimself and the Fronde. 

 [3] Upon the _Petits Maîtres_, see Mad. De Sablé, chap. I. P. 44. 

CHAPTER II. 

 POLITICAL AND GALLANT INTRIGUES--THE DUCHESS DE CHÂTILLON'S SWAY OVER CONDÉ--SHAMEFUL CONSPIRACY AGAINST MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 

CONDÉ arrived in Paris on the 11th of April, and found everything in theutmost confusion. It would be impossible to follow all the pettyintrigues, or even make allusion to all the events which affected therelative situations of the parties in the capital; but it may beobserved that the tendency of both parties was to hold themselves in theneighbourhood of Paris. The chiefs of the Fronde hurried into the city, to receive the congratulations due to their exploits from the fairpoliticians who had won them to their cause. The Queen also establishedher head-quarters near the capital, to be ready for any turn of popularsentiment in her favour, and to hear the reports of her spies on theproceedings of her enemies. She knew what dances were to be given, andwho were to attend the assemblies of the duchesses of the Fronde. On oneoccasion when Turenne knew that half the officers of Condé's army wereengaged to a brilliant fête at the Duchess de Montbazon's, he made anattack on the enemy's camp, and was only repulsed by the steadiness ofsome old soldiers, who gave time for reinforcements to arrive. But thecrisis was at hand; for each party began to be suspicious of the othergaining over its supporters--Mazarin lavishing promises of place andmoney, and the Duchess de Châtillon, invested with full powers byCondé, appearing in the opposite camp as the most irresistibleambassadress that ever was seen. 

Thus matters stood in the early summer of 1652, and "all that was mostsubtle and serious in politics, " La Rochefoucauld tells us, "was broughtunder the attention of Condé to induce him to take one of twocourses--to make peace or to continue the war; when Madame de Châtillonimbued him with a design for peace by means the most agreeable. Shethought that so great a boon might be the work of her beauty, andmingling ambition with the design of making a new conquest, she desiredat the same time to triumph over the Prince de Condé's heart and toderive pecuniary advantages from her political negotiations. "

We have already cursorily mentioned the Duchess de Châtillon: it is nowindispensable, in order to thoroughly understand what is about tofollow, to know something more of that celebrated personage. 

Isabella Angelique de Montmorency was one of the two daughters of thatbrave and unfortunate Count de Montmorency Bouteville, who, the victimof a false point of honour and of an outrageous passion for duelling, was decapitated on the Place de Grève, on the 21st of June, 1627. Shewas sister of François de Montmorency, Count de Bouteville, better knownas the illustrious Marshal de Luxembourg. Born in 1626, she had beenmarried in 1645 to the last of the Colignys, the Duke de Châtillon, oneof the heroes of Lens, killed in the action of Charenton in 1649. Left awidow at twenty-three, her rare loveliness won for her a thousandadorers. She was one of the queens of politics and gallantry during theFronde; and even, after manifold amours, at thirty-eight could boast ofcaptivating the Duke de Mecklenbourg, who espoused her in 1664. Tobeauty, Madame de Châtillon added great intelligence, but anintelligence wholly devoted to intrigue. She was vain and ambitious, andat the same time profoundly selfish, moderately scrupulous, and somewhatof the school of Madame de Montbazon. While both were young, she hadsmitten Condé; but he had thought no more of her after becoming absorbedwith his love for Mademoiselle de Vigean. After that elevated passion, so sorrowfully terminated, [1] and after the fugitive emotion with whichthe lovely and virtuous Mademoiselle de Toussy could still inspire him, Condé stifled his chevalaresque instincts and bade adieu to the _hautegalanterie_ of his youth and of the Hôtel de Rambouillet. A fewinsignificant and commonplace attachments, of which no record hassurvived, alone excepted, Madame de Châtillon only is known to havecaptivated his heart for the last time; and that _liaison_ exercisedupon Condé and his affairs, at the epoch at which we have arrived, aninfluence sufficiently great for history to occupy itself therewith, ifit would not be content with retracing consequences and as it were theoutline of events which pass across the stage of the world without beingunderstood, without penetrating to the true causes which are to bediscovered in the characters and passions of mankind. And, of allpassions, there is none at once more energetic and wide-grasping thanlove. It occupies an immense place in human life, and in the loftiest aswell as the lowliest conditions. In our own times, we have seen it makeand mar kings. In an earlier epoch, by detaining Antony too long inCleopatra's arms at Alexandria, the formidable tempest gathered abovehis head which nearly overwhelmed him at Munda. It played a great partin the war which Henry IV. Was about to undertake, when a sudden deatharrested him. One can scarcely resist a smile on seeing historians forthe most part taking no account of it, as a thing too frivolous, andconsigning it altogether to private life, as though that which agitatesthe soul so powerfully were not the principle of that which blazes forthexteriorly! No, the empire of beauty knows no limitation, and in noinstance did it show itself more potent than over those great hearts ofwhich Alexander the Great, Cæsar, Charlemagne, and Henry IV. Of Francewere the owners. We may well place Condé amongst such illustriouscompany. 

 [1] Mademoiselle de Vigean took the veil on the prince being forced to marry the niece of Cardinal Richelieu. 

One graceful memento of Madame de Châtillon's power over Condé hasdescended to our own day. At Châtillon-sur-Loing, in what remains of theancient château of the Colignys, which Isabelle de Montmorency derivedfrom her husband and left to her brother, in that salon of the nobleheir of the Luxembourgs, as precious for history as for art, wherein maybe seen collected together, by the side of the sword of the ConstableAnne, the likeness of Luxembourg on horseback, with his proud andpiercing glance, as well as the full-length portrait of CharlotteMarguerite de Montmorency, Princess de Condé, in widow's weeds, there isalso a large and magnificent picture, representing a young woman ofravishing beauty, with perfectly regular features, with the loveliestbright chestnut hair, grey eyes of the softest expression, a swan-likeneck, of a slight and graceful figure, painted with a natural grandeur, and embellished with all the attractions of youth, enhanced by anexquisite air of coquetry. She is seated in an easy attitude. One of herhands, carelessly extended, holds a bouquet of flowers; the other restsupon the mane of a lion, whose head is drawn full-face, and whoseflaming eyes are unmistakably the terrible eyes of Condé when seen withhis sword drawn. Here we behold the beautiful Duchess de Châtillon attwenty-five or twenty-six, and very nearly such as she has taken care todescribe herself in the _Divers Portraits_ of Mademoiselle deMontpensier. The head stands out wonderfully. It would be impossible toinstance a more charming countenance, but it is somewhat deficient incharacter and grandeur, and quite different from that of Madame deLongueville. The latter's face was not so regularly symmetrical, but itwore a far loftier expression, and an air of supreme distinctioncharacterised her entire person. 

Madame de Châtillon and Madame de Longueville had been brought uptogether, and very much attached during the whole of their early youth. By degrees there sprung up a rivalry of beauty between them, and theyquarrelled thoroughly when Madame de Longueville perceived after thedeath of Châtillon, that the young and beautiful widow, at the same timethat she was welcoming very decidedly the homage of the Duke de Nemours, had also evident designs upon Condé. Madame de Longueville had her ownreasons for not being then very severe upon others, but she knew theself-seeking heart of the fair Duchess, and she was alarmed for herbrother's sake. She feared lest Madame de Châtillon, having great needof Court favour, might retain Condé in the engagements which he had withMazarin, while she herself was forced to drag him into the Fronde. Thequarrel was renewed in 1651, as we have seen, and it was in full forcein 1652. Madame de Châtillon and Madame de Longueville were thendisputing for Condé's heart: the one drew him towards the Court, fullyhoping that the Court would not be ungrateful to her; the other urgedhim more and more upon the path of war. We have related how Madame deLongueville, well knowing the strength of Condé's friendship for theDuke de Nemours, who was in the chains of the Duchess, veryinopportunely mingled politics and coquetry in Berri, and tried thepower of her charms upon Nemours, in order to carry him off from Madamede Châtillon and from the party of peace. No one ever knew how farMadame de Longueville committed herself on that occasion; but, as wehave remarked, the slightest appearance was enough for La Rochefoucauld. As he had only sought his own advantage in the Fronde, not finding ittherein, he began to grow tired, and asked for nothing better than toput an end to the wandering and adventurous life he had been for someyears leading by a favourable reconciliation. Madame de Longueville'sconduct in cutting him to the quick in what remained of his tenderfeelings for her, and especially in the most sensitive portion of hisheart--its vanity and self-love--gave him an opportunity or a pretext, which he seized upon with eagerness, to break off a _liaison_ becomecontrary to his interests. Thus, in April, 1652, when he returned toParis with Condé, and there found Madame de Châtillon, he entered atonce into all her prejudices and all her designs, as he afterwards ownedto Madame de Motteville:[2] he placed at her service all that was in himof skill and ability, and descended to the indulgence of a revengeagainst Madame de Longueville wholly unworthy of an honourable man, andwhich after the lapse of two centuries is as revolting to everyright-minded person as it was to his contemporaries. 

 [2] Mad. De Motteville, tom. V. P. 132. "M. De la Rochefoucauld m'a dit que la jalousie et la vengeance le firent agir soigneusement, et qu'il fit tout ce que Mad. De Châtillon voulut. "

Madame de Châtillon was not contented with carrying off the giddy andinconstant Duke de Nemours from his new love, then absent; she exactedat his hands the public and outrageous sacrifice of her rival. Thereprisals of feminine vanity did not stop there: the ambitious andintriguing Duchess went further, she undertook to ruin Madame deLongueville in her brother's estimation. With that object she setherself, with the assistance of La Rochefoucauld, to decry her in everyway to him, and sought even to persuade him that his sister was notattached to him as she made it appear, and that she had promised theDuke de Nemours to serve him at his expense; whilst Madame deLongueville had never dreamed in any way of separating Nemours fromCondé, but only from her, Madame de Châtillon, purposely to engage himmore deeply in Condé's interests, in the light that she understood them. 

Madame de Longueville's policy was very simple, and it was the true one, the Fronde once admitted. Assuredly, it would have been better alike forMadame de Longueville, for Condé, and for France not to have enteredupon that fatal path by which the national greatness was for ten yearsarrested, and through which the house of Condé very nearly perished;but, after having embraced that sinister step, no other alternativeremained to a firm and logical mind than to resolutely pursue itstriumph. And that triumph, in Madame de Longueville's eyes, was theoverthrow of Mazarin, a necessary condition of the domination of Condé. Such was the end pointed out to her by La Rochefoucauld when engagingher in the Fronde at the beginning of 1648, and she had never lost sightof it. It was to attain it that she had flung herself into the CivilWar, and that she had ended by dragging therein her brother; that, worsted at Paris in 1649, she had striven in 1650 to raise Normandy;that she had risked her life, braved exile, made alliance with a foreignenemy, and unfurled at Stenay the banner of the Princes. In 1651, shehad advised the resumption of arms, and now she maintained theimpossibility of laying them down, and that, instead of losing himselfin useless negotiations with the subtle and skilful Cardinal, it wasupon his sword alone that Condé should rely. She thought him incapableof extricating himself advantageously from the intrigues by which he wassurrounded, and therefore urged him towards the field of battle. She hadalways exercised a great sway over him, because he knew that her heartwas of like temper to his own; and if passion had not blinded him, hewould have rejected with disdain the odious accusations they had daredto raise against her, as he had done in 1643, in the affair of theletters attributed to her by Madame de Montbazon: he would have easilyrecognised that Madame de Châtillon, Nemours, and La Rochefoucauld wouldnot have joined to blacken her in his eyes, as a vulgar creature everready to betray him for the latest lover, save in the manifest design ofembroiling them both, of securing him, and of making him subserve theirparticular views. Nemours alone knew what had taken place during thatjourney from Montrond to Bordeaux, and the man who is base enough toconstitute himself the denouncer of a woman to whom he has paid thewarmest homage, is not very worthy of being believed on his word. Besides Nemours has not himself spoken, but Madame de Châtillon andRochefoucauld, who have attributed to him certain sentiments, and weknow with what motive. 

It would be difficult to imagine a conspiracy more disgraceful than thatformed at this juncture against Madame de Longueville; and that featurein it the more shameful perhaps was that La Rochefoucauld himself boastsof having invented and worked this machinery, as he terms it. The threeconspirators were dumb, but through different but equally despicablereasons. Madame de Châtillon desired singly to govern Condé, and aloneto represent him at Court, in order to reap the profits of thenegotiation. Nemours was desirous of pleasing Madame de Châtillon, andlooked forward also to have his share in the great advantages promisedhim; and, lastly, La Rochefoucauld was actuated by a pitiless spirit ofrevenge, and in the hope of a reconciliation necessary to his ownimmediate fortunes. 

But here arose a delicate point, if we may speak of delicacy in such amatter: in the whole cabal, the least odious was, after all, the Duke deNemours, more frivolous than perfidious, and who was deeply smitten withMadame de Châtillon. He loved her, and was beloved. The return of thePrince de Condé, with his well-declared pretensions, caused him cruelsuffering, and his rage threatened to upset the well-concerted scheme. The lovely lady herself could not sometimes help being embarrassedbetween an imperious prince and a jealous lover. Happily the futureauthor of the _Maxims_ was at hand. La Rochefoucauld took upon himselfto arrange everything in the best way possible. It was not verydifficult for him to direct Madame de Châtillon how to manage Condé andNemours both at once, and to contrive in such a way that she mightsecure them both. He made the moody Nemours comprehend that, in truth, he had no reason to complain of an inevitable _liaison_, "qui ne luidevoit pas être suspecte, puisqu'on voulait lui en rendre compte, et nes'en servir que pour lui donner la principale part aux affaires. " At thesame time, "he urged M. Le Prince to occupy himself with Madame deChâtillon, and to give her in freehold the estate of Merlon. " In such afashion, thanks to the honest intervention of La Rochefoucauld, a goodunderstanding was kept up, and the conspiracy went quietly forwards. Condé had no mistrust whatever. A veil had been cast over his eyes; hismartial disposition lulled asleep in the lap of pleasure and in alabyrinth of negotiations, and cradled in the hope of an approachingpeace. 

INDEX. 

 AIGUILLON, Duchess d', her resentment against Condé for forcing her young nephew Richelieu into a clandestine marriage, i. 174. 

 ANCRE, Marshal d', assassinated, i. 17. 

 ANET, Château d', a haunt of conspirators against Mazarin, i. 105. 

 ANNE OF AUSTRIA, Queen of Louis XIII. Of France, her reception of Mad. De Chevreuse on her return from exile, i. 39; her dread of adventures and enterprises, 39; Mazarin's entire ascendancy over her, 47; hesitates to take a decided attitude between Mazarin and his enemies, 65; evidence of her love for Mazarin, 100; her Regency opens under most brilliant auspices, 101; the conspiracy to take Mazarin's life determines her to adopt his policy, 102; orders the arrest of Beaufort, 104; her lively displeasure at the duel between Guise and Coligny, 116; her jealous feeling against Madame de Longueville, 122; retires before the Fronde to St. Germain, 155; her endeavour to mortify the ladies of the Fronde by giving a day-light ball, 170; her delight at seeing Condé and the Frondeurs at daggers drawn, 174; secretly confers with De Retz relative to the arrest of Condé, Conti and Longueville; gives the fatal order for that _coup d'état_, 176; orders the arrest of the Duchesses de Longueville and de Bouillon, 178; quits Paris for Rouen to confront Madame de Longueville, 180; the affirmation of the Duchess d'Orleans that the Queen had secretly married Mazarin, 201; evidence of such marriage, 202; finds herself in some sort a prisoner on the proscription of Mazarin, 216; seriously prepares to make head against Condé, 257; her fervour, constancy, and marvellous skill manifested towards weakening Condé, 258; the great danger of herself, the King, and Mazarin at Gien, 287. 

 ANNE-GENEVIÈVE DE BOURBON-CONDÉ, Duchess de Longueville, her birth and parentage, i. 1; her desire for conventual seclusion, 5; her great personal beauty, 7; her character, 10; suitors for her hand, 12; married to the Duke de Longueville, 13; her conduct towards a crowd of adorers, 14; has a formidable enemy in the Duchess of Montbazon, 66; the quarrel between the rival Duchesses in the affair of the dropped letter, 71; public apology made her by Madame de Montbazon, 74; unoccupied with politics at this juncture, 79; error of the _Importants_ in not conciliating her, 79; scandalised by Coligny's championship of her in the duel with Guise, 117; said to have witnessed the duel from behind a window-curtain, 118; verses on the occasion, 118; Miossens (afterwards Marshal d'Albret) tries in vain to win her heart, 121; her two individualities of opposite natures, 122; her defective education, 122; character of her epistolary style, 123; the different kind of education given by Ménage to Madame de Sevigné and Madame de la Fayette, 124; the conquest of her heart and mind by La Rochefoucauld, 125; _résumé_ of her life (up to 1648), 131; queen of the Congress of Munster, 133; acquires a taste for political discussions and speculations, 134; Madame de Motteville's portrait of her at this period (1647), 135; she sacrifices everything for La Rochefoucauld, 140; exercises a somewhat ridiculous empire over her brother Conti, 142; fatal influence of her passion for La Rochefoucauld, 149; throws herself into the first Fronde, 149; ultimately involves in it every member of her family, 150; arrayed against her brother Condé in civil war, 154; she shares all the fatigues of the siege of Paris, 157; her energy and intrepidity, 158; is given up as a hostage to the Parliament by her husband, 159; gives birth to Charles de Paris, _the Child of the Fronde_, in the Hotel de Ville, 159; is reconciled to Condé, resumes her ascendancy over him, and detaches him from Mazarin, 162; her embarrassment on reappearing at Court, 163; the perilous path she is led into by her infatuation for La Rochefoucauld, 166; undertakes to mislead Condé and give him over to Spain, 167; the Queen orders her to be arrested; she escapes to Normandy with La Rochefoucauld, 179; her adventures in Normandy. She raises the standard of revolt at Dieppe, 180; pursued by the Queen, she assumes male attire and reaches Rotterdam and Stenay, 181; becomes the motive power of "_the Women's War_" or _Second_ Fronde, 182; the message from her dying mother, 183; her gracious reception by their Majesties on her return from Stenay, 222; the most brilliant period of her career, 223; the idol of Spain, the terror of the Court, and one of the grandeurs of her family, 223; her motives for opposing the marriage of her brother with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, 228; urges Condé to cut the knot, and make war upon the Crown, 246; her conduct, feelings and motives examined at this juncture, 247; was she the cause of the rupture of Conti's projected marriage, 248; peremptorily commanded to join her husband in Normandy, 253; she perceives a change in La Rochefoucauld's feelings, 254; follows the Princess de Condé into Berri, 254; the Duke de Nemours pays court to her, 262; certain obscure relations between them drives La Rochefoucauld to a violent rupture, 264; a rivalry of beauty leads her to humiliate Madame de Châtillon, 265; how Madame de Longueville fell into "the scandalous chronicle, " 266; her grave cause of complaint against La Rochefoucauld, 266; Madame de Châtillon attempts to ruin her in Condé's estimation, 296; her fatal policy in the Fronde arrests the national greatness for ten years, and nearly ruins the House of Condé, 296; the disgraceful conspiracy formed against her, 298. 

 ARISTOCRACY in France, its constitution in the reign of Louis XIV. , i. 217. 

 BEAUFORT, Francis de Vendôme, Duke de (called the "King of the Markets"), a suitor for the hand of Anne de Bourbon, 12; a leader of the _Importants_, 15; a rival of Mazarin in the Queen's good graces, 52; his character as sketched by La Rochefoucauld, 52; becomes the led-captain of Madame de Montbazon, and the bitterest enemy of Mazarin, 53; his spite against Madame de Longueville, 71; his conduct in the affair of the dropped letters, 73; insinuates that they were from Coligny, 71; irritated at the banishment of Madame de Montbazon, he enters into a plot against Mazarin, 76; the ungovernable impetuosity of his vengeance against Madame de Longueville strongly stigmatised, 80; prepares an ambuscade to slay Mazarin, 95; the plot fails, 99; is arrested and imprisoned at Vincennes, 105; released by the Fronde and becomes master of Paris, 154; Madame de Montbazon exercises plenary power over him, 208; becomes one of the most conspicuous leaders of the Fronde, 215. 

 BEAUPUIS, Count de, detected plotting against Mazarin, escapes to Rome, 86; his denunciation of the evils of Richelieu's inordinate authority, 91. 

 BEAUTY IN WOMAN, true definition of, 8. 

 BOUILLON, de la Tour d'Auvergne, Duke de, conspires against Richelieu, 25; one of the party of the _Malcontents_, 109; joins Condé at Saint-Maur, 245. 

 BOUILLON, Duchess de, given up as a hostage to the Fronde, 159; quite as ardent in politics as Madame de Longueville, 206; arrested by the Queen's order at her daughter's bedside, and thrown into the Bastille, 206. 

 BRIDIEU, Marquis de, acts as second to Guise in duel with Coligny, 113. 

 BUCKINGHAM, George Villiers, Duke of, his political correspondence with Madame de Chevreuse, 19. 

 BURNET, Bishop, his assertion of Condé's offer to Cromwell to turn Protestant, 280. 

 BUSSY-RABUTIN, Count de, value of his satire of Madame de Longueville, 265. 

 CAMPION, Alexandre de, his mission to Madame de Chevreuse, 28; his censure of Madame de Montbazon's conduct, 80. 

 CAMPION, Henri de, attributes the conception of the plot to destroy Mazarin to Madame de Chevreuse in concert with Madame de Montbazon, 89; he stipulates with Beaufort that he should not strike Mazarin, 92; sought for by Mazarin, he takes refuge at Anet, and afterwards at Rome, 97. 

 CANTECROIX, Beatrice de Cusance, Princess de, Charles, Duke de Lorraine madly enamoured of, 147. 

 CAUMARTIN, Madame de, a portrait of Madame de Chevreuse sketched by De Retz to please the malignant curiosity of, 21. 

 CHÂTEAUNEUF, Charles de l'Aubépine, Marquis de, released from an imprisonment of ten years, 34; why detested by the Princess de Condé, 40; restored to office through Madame de Chevreuse, 57; banished to Touraine, 106; bides his time for displacing Mazarin, and holds the seals on the Cardinal going into exile, 107; deprived of them by the Queen, 230; restored to office to serve Mazarin in secret, 257; nobly inaugurates his ministry by marching with the Queen and young King into Berri, 263; Mazarin learns with inquietude his ever-increasing success, 278; again displaced by Mazarin, 279. 

 CHÂTILLON, Isabelle Angelique de Montmorency, Duchess de (sister of the illustrious Marshal de Luxembourg), the Great Condé's passion for her, 259; she urges Condé to an understanding with the Court, 259; manages her lofty lover with infinite tact, 259; is deeply enamoured of the young Duke de Nemours, 259; invested with full powers as an ambassadress by Condé, 291; her desire to triumph over Condé's heart, 291; her antecedents and character, 292; the important consequences of her liaison with Condé, 292; a portrait of her at twenty-five described, 293; causes of her quarrel with Madame de Longueville, 294; she exacts from Nemours the public and outrageous sacrifice of her rival, 296; attempts to ruin Madame de Longueville in Condé's estimation, 296; her embarrassment between an imperious Prince and a jealous lover, 298. 

 CHAVIGNY, Count de, his career, 231. 

 CHEVREUSE, Marie de Rohan, Duchess de, her illustrious lineage, 17; marries, first, Charles de Luynes, and afterwards Claude de Chevreuse, 17; as great favourite of Anne of Austria her extensive influence over the politics of Europe, 18; her personal characteristics, 18; summary of her character by Cardinal de Retz, 19; cause of her failure as a great politician, 20; her adventures in exile, 22; her great ascendancy over the cabinet of Madrid, 22; seeks refuge in England, 22; Richelieu's designs to effect her destruction, 23; acts as the connecting link between England, Spain and Lorraine during the Civil War in England, 24; negotiates with Olivarez for the destruction of Richelieu, 26; was she a stranger to the conspiracy of 1642? 26; abandoned by the Queen on its discovery, 30; her frightful position, 31; her perpetual exile decreed by the will of Louis XIII. , 32; is dreaded by Mazarin, 33; her triumphant return to Court, 34; her position and political influence, 36; the new relations between her and the Queen, 39; she attacks Richelieu's system as adopted by Mazarin, 48; procures the return of Châteauneuf to office, 49; pleads for the Vendôme princes, 50; manoeuvres to secure the governorship of Havre for La Rochefoucauld, 53; the skill, sagacity, and address of her counter-intrigues, 55; tries the power of her charms on Mazarin, 55; devotes her whole existence to political intrigue and conspiracy, 56; want of precaution in her attacks upon Mazarin, 58; her curious struggle for supremacy with the Prime Minister, 58; the head and mainspring of the _Importants_, 58; her tactics to displace Mazarin in favour of Châteauneuf, 59; she organises a _coup-de-main_ to destroy Mazarin, 62; arranges with the Cardinal the composition of Madame de Montbazon's apology, 74; her politic purpose of a fête to the Queen foiled by the insane pride of Madame de Montbazon, 76; her efforts to deprive Mazarin of supporters, 80; her share in Beaufort's plot, 82; Madame de Montbazon only an instrument in her hands, 89; her behaviour on the failure of the plot, 106; recommended by the Queen to withdraw from Court, 107; carries on a vast correspondence under the mantle of the English embassy with Lord Goring, Croft, Vendôme, and Bouillon, and the rest of the _Malcontents_, 109; her irritation at being prohibited from visiting the Queen of England, 143; Mazarin watches her every movement, 144; ordered to retire to Angoulême, she goes for a third time into exile, 144; her bark is captured by the English Parliamentarians and she is carried into the Isle of Wight, 146; Mazarin has Montresor arrested in hopes of possessing himself of her costly jewels, 146; applies herself to maintain an alliance between Spain, Austria and Lorraine--the last basis of her own political reputation, 147; preserves her sway over the Duke de Lorraine, 148; frustrates Mazarin's projects to win over the Duke, 148; becomes once more the soul of every intrigue planned against the government, 148; constitutes herself the mediatress between the Queen and the Frondeurs, 206; partially restored to the Queen's confidence, 210; assisted in her political intrigues by the Marquis de Laigues, 210; a splendid supper given to her by Madame de Sevigné, 211; forms a plan with the Princess Palatine of a grand aristocratic league against Mazarin, 224; the Fronde in 1651 was Madame de Chevreuse, 225; she procures Condé's release from prison, 225; her resentment at the rupture of her daughter's marriage, 232; she raises the entire Fronde against Condé, 242; opposes the schemes to assassinate Condé, 243; Châteauneuf, her friend and instrument, is made Prime Minister, 257; remains staunch to the Queen and Mazarin through the last Fronde, 280. 

 CHEVREUSE, Charlotte Marie de Lorraine, Mademoiselle de, her projected marriage with the Prince de Conti, 224; supreme importance of such marriage, 225; disastrous results of its rupture, 232; impetuously proposes to turn the key upon Condé, Conti and Beaufort at the Palais d'Orleans, 233; her suspected and almost public _liaison_ with De Retz, 249; dies suddenly of a fever, unmarried, 224. 

 CINQ MARS, Henri de, undermines Richelieu with Louis XIII. , 25; his death-warrant, 29. 

 COLIGNY, Count Maurice de (grandson of the famous Admiral de Coligny), an adorer of Madame de Longueville, 14; the dropped letters falsely attributed to him, 71; as champion of Madame de Longueville, he challenges the Duke de Guise, 113; fatal result of the duel, 117; dies of his wounds and of despair, 117; scandalous verses on the occasion, 118. 

 COETQUEN, Marquis de, hospitably receives Madame de Chevreuse when exiled, 146. 

 CONDÉ, Louis de Bourbon, Prince de, arbiter of the political situation after Rocroy, 80; his furious anger at Madame de Montbazon's insult to his sister, 111; hailed by the Queen as the liberator of France, 111; receives into his house Coligny wounded in duel with Guise, 116; the state in which he found Paris after his victory of Lens: he offers his sword to the Queen, 154; applies himself to giving the new _Importants_ a harsh lesson, 155; marches upon Paris and places it under siege, 156; the climax of his fame and fortune as defender and saviour of the throne, 164; he tyrannises over the Court and government, 168; he insults Mazarin and embarrasses the Queen, 169; his want of capacity for business, 172; his train of _petits-maîtres_, 172; on the murder of one of his servants he tries to crush the Fronde leaders, 173; forces the young Duke de Richelieu to marry clandestinely Mademoiselle de Pons, 174; wounds the Queen's pride by compelling her to receive Jarzé whom she had banished for fatuously believing that she had loved him, 175; arrested on the authority of his own signature and imprisoned at Vincennes, 177; what constituted the strength of the Princes' party in the Second Fronde, 188; the majority of the women who meddled with politics were, through sympathy, of his party, 203; his aged mother supplicates in vain for his release, and returns home to die, 204; his liberation effected by no other power than that of female influence, 206; he treats Mazarin with contempt at Havre, and on his release becomes master of the situation, 215; is courted by both the Fronde and Queen's party, 215; eight hundred princes and nobles partisans of Condé, 217; his sole error not having a fixed and unalterable object, 230; applies himself to form a new Fronde, 234; resumes the imperious tone which had previously embroiled him with the Queen and Mazarin, 237; Hocquincourt proposes to assassinate Condé, 243; he retreats to St. Maur and holds a Court there, 245; reappears in Parliament, 245; Châteauneuf and Mazarin labour to destroy him, 257; he narrowly escapes an ambuscade at Pontoise, 258; motives which rendered him averse to civil war, 259; his final determination to unsheath the sword, 260; raises the standard of revolt in Guienne, 262; his adventurous expedition, 275; to what did Condé aspire? 277; his inconstancy--offers himself to Cromwell and to become Protestant to have an English army, 278-280; the income and possessions of his family, 278; he escapes for the tenth time being taken and slain, 282; takes command of the Fronde forces and throws himself upon the royal army, 283; routs Hocquincourt and attacks Turenne unsuccessfully, 285; unjust accusation of Napoleon I. That Condé wanted boldness at Bleneau, 286; he leaves the army and hastens to Paris, 287; in abandoning the Loire he commits an immense and irreparable error, 289; invests Madame de Châtillon with full powers as an ambassadress, 291; imbued by her with a design for peace by means the most agreeable, 291; a graceful memento of her power over him still existing in the ancient Château of the Colignys, 293; Madame de Châtillon and Madame de Longueville dispute for Condé's heart, 294; the overthrow of Mazarin a necessary condition of the domination of Condé, 296; is advised by his sister to rely upon his sword alone, 297. 

 CONDÉ, Charlotte Marguerite de Montmorency, Princess de Bourbon (mother of the Great Condé and Madame de Longueville), her influence with Anne of Austria, 39; her detestation of Madame de Chevreuse, 40; tries to destroy her hold upon the Queen, 40; her lively resentment at the insult to her daughter in the affair of the dropped letters, 73; demands a public reparation from Madame de Montbazon, 74; her demeanour during the "mummeries" of the apology, 74; obtains the privilege of never associating with Madame de Montbazon, 75; supplicates in vain for Condé's release, and returns home to die, 204. 

 CONDÉ, Claire Clemence de Maillé, Princess de Bourbon (daughter of the Duke de Brézé, and wife of the Great Condé), shut up in Bordeaux with the Dukes de Bouillon and de Rochefoucauld during "the Women's War, " 200, 204; only maintains herself in Bordeaux through the aid of the rabble _va-nu-pieds_, 205; forced to take refuge hastily in the citadel of Montrond, 263. 

 CONTI, Armand de Bourbon, Prince de (brother of the Great Condé), his extravagant adoration of his sister, Madame de Longueville, 141; marries Anne Marie Martinozzi, niece of Mazarin, 142; declared _generalissimo_ of the army of the king, 159; the problem as to who was the author of the rupture of his marriage with Madame de Chevreuse, 227; his ardent passion for her, 231; is made lieutenant-general in Guienne by Condé, 276; finishes, where he begun life, with theology, 142. 

 CORNEILLE, Pierre, his _Emilie_ painted as a perfect heroine, 82. 

 FIESQUE, Gillona d'Harcourt, Countess de, 195. 

 FOUQUEROLLES, Madame de, her terrible anxiety lest she should be compromised by the dropped letters, 73; confides the secret to La Rochefoucauld, 73; the letters are burnt in the Queen's presence, 73. 

 FRONDE, the, what gave it birth and sustained it, 149; _Day of the Barricades_, 153; the royal power attacked by three parties simultaneously, 153; the adherents of the Fronde, 156; initiation of the Civil War, 159; sordid selfishness of the Frondeurs, 161; carries everything before it in 1651, 223; brief retrospect of the two Fronde wars, 267; one of the most interesting as well as diverting periods in French history, 269; contrast between its main features and the contemporary civil war in England, 270; the wide-spread misery it entailed on France, 270. 

 GUISE, Henri, Duke de Guise (grandson of the _Balafré_), espouses the cause of Madame de Montbazon in the affair of the dropped letters, 73; confronts and defies the victorious Condés, 112; fights a duel with Coligny, the champion of Madame de Longueville, 115; his insulting words on unsheathing his sword, 115; result of the duel on party feeling in France, 117; his _liaison_ with Anne de Gonzagua, 193; becomes unfaithful to her and elopes with the Countess de Bossuet, 194. 

 GUYMÉNÉ, Anne de Rohan, Princess de (sister-in-law of Madame de Chevreuse, and daughter-in-law of Madame Montbazon), her numerous crowd of old and young adorers, 37; her flirtation with Mazarin, 56; furious at having been abandoned by De Retz, offers the Queen to get him confined in a cellar, 209. 

 HACQUEVILLE, Monsieur de, refuses to be a go-between of De Retz and Madame de Chevreuse, 211. 

 HAUTEFORT, Marie de (afterwards Duchess de Schomberg), influence of her piety and virtue, 37; witnesses the arrest of Beaufort, 105. 

 HENRIETTA MARIA, Queen of Charles I. Of England, her warm reception of Madame de Chevreuse, 22; seeks an Asylum in France from the Parliamentarians, 143; asserted to have secretly married her equerry, Jermyn, 202. 

 HOCQUINCOURT, Charles de Monchy, Marshal d', proclaims Madame de Montbazon "la belle des belles, " 70; is beaten by Condé at Bleneau, 284. 

 HOLLAND, Henry Rich, Earl of, his political correspondence with Madame de Chevreuse, 19; encourages the faction of Vendôme, Vieuville, and La Valette, 23. 

 IMPORTANTS, the--Rochefoucauld's account of that faction, 77; irritated by the banishment of their fascinating lady-leader, Madame de Montbazon, they plot to murder Mazarin, 78; their ruin decided upon by the Queen and Mazarin, 79; their error in not conciliating Madame de Longueville, 79; was the plot real or imaginary--a point of the highest historical importance, 83; failure of the plot and ruin of the faction, 104. 

 JOINVILLE, Prince de (son of Charles de Lorraine), suitor for the hand of Anne de Bourbon, 12. 

 LAIGUES, Marquis de, declares himself a lover of Madame de Chevreuse to gain political importance, 210. 

 LONGUEVILLE, Duchess de, see ANNE DE BOURBON. 

 LONGUEVILLE, Marie d'Orleans, see Duchess de NEMOURS. 

 LONGUEVILLE, Henry de Bourbon, Duke de, marries Anne de Bourbon, 13; titular lover of Madame de Montbazon, 70; plenipotentiary at the Congress of Munster in 1645, 132; gives up the Duchess as a hostage to the Fronde, 159; raises Normandy against Mazarin, 158; he imperatively commands the Duchess to join him in Normandy, 253. 

 LORET, his rhyming description of the supper given by Madame de Sevigné to Madame to Chevreuse, 212. 

 LORRAINE, Charles IV. , Duke of, involved in the conspiracy of Soissons through Madame de Chevreuse, 26; prefers amusing himself with civil war to the quiet enjoyment of his throne, 271. 

 LOUIS _the Just_ (XIII. Of France), signs the death warrant of his favourite, Cinq Mars, 29; his decree of exile against Madame de Chevreuse, 33. 

 LOUIS XIV. , his majority declared, 256. 

 LUYNES, Charles de, Favourite of Louis XIII. , marries Marie de Rohan (afterwards Duchess de Chevreuse), 17

 LUYNES, the (late) Duke de, aided the Pope against the Garibaldians, 18. 

 MAULEVRIER, the Marquis de, writer of the dropped letters addressed to Madame de Fouquerolles, 13. 

 MAZARIN, Jules, Cardinal, succeeds Richelieu as Prime Minister, 32; his origin, 44; is hated by the nobles, parliament, and middle classes, 44; installed in office, 45; his first service to Anne of Austria, 45; his striking personal resemblance to Buckingham, 46; how he obtained entire sway over the Queen-Regent, 47; applies himself to gain her heart, 47; finds a formidable opponent to his policy in Madame de Chevreuse, 48, 54; is terrified by her matrimonial projects, 54; flirts with Madame de Chevreuse, 55; his attentions to Madame de Guyméné, 56; his difficulty to make the Queen comprehend his policy towards Spain, 60; declares that Madame de Chevreuse would ruin France, 61; forewarned of a conspiracy to destroy him, 62; the great families opposed to him, 63; his anxieties and perplexities, 64; the relations between him and the Queen, 64; his intervention in the quarrel of the rival Duchesses, 74; his resolution in confronting the plot of the _Importants_, 79; did Mazarin owe all his great career to a falsehood cunningly invented and audaciously sustained? 83; the plan of the attack upon him, 92; escapes assassination from Beaufort's nocturnal ambuscade, 99; compels the Queen to choose her part by addressing himself to her heart, 102; becomes absolute master of the Queen's heart, 102; banishes the conspirators and arrests Beaufort, 106; his tactics and political sagacity, 111; first introduces Italian Opera at the French Court, 135; concludes a peace with the Fronde parliament, 161; insulted by Condé, 169; what constitutes the strength of his party in the _Second_ Fronde, 187; goes into Guienne with the royal army, 205; banished by the Fronde, 215; treated with contempt by Condé at Havre, 215; with difficulty finds a refuge at Bruhl, 216; in his exile governs the Queen as absolutely as ever, 217; his immense blunder (in 1650), 225; rebanished and his possessions confiscated, 234; governs France from Bruhl, 236; foments quarrels between Condé and the Fronde, 236; composes with the Queen a political comedy of which De Retz became the dupe and Condé very nearly the victim, 238; the draught of his treaty with the Fronde, the masterpiece of his political skill, falls into Condé's hands, 256; alarmed at the success of Châteauneuf, he breaks his ban, and returns to France, 279; Condé and the Fronde united against him, 280; to gain supporters lavishly promises place and money, 290. 

 MEDICI, Marie de (Queen of Henry IV. And mother of Louis XIII. ), her imprisonment of Charlotte de Montmorency, 2; conspires against Richelieu, 28. 

 MIOSSENS, Count de (afterwards Marshal d'Albret), tries unsuccessfully to win the heart of Madame de Longueville, 122; gives place to La Rochefoucauld, 130. 

 MONTAGU, Lord, the intimate adviser of Queen Henrietta Maria, and slave of Madame de Chevreuse, 24; Anne of Austria's confidence in him, 37; his mission to Madame de Chevreuse, 38; becomes a bigot and a devotee, 38. 

 MONTBAZON, Hercule de Rohan, Duke de (father of Madame de Chevreuse and the Prince de Guyméné), marries at sixty-one Marie d'Avangour aged sixteen, 67; recommends the example of Marie de Medici to his young wife and takes her to Court, 67. 

 MONTBAZON, Marie d'Avangour, Duchess de, called by d'Hocquincourt "la belle des belles, " the youthful stepmother of Madame de Chevreuse, her parentage and antecedents, 67; married at sixteen to a husband of sixty-one, 67; her personal and mental characteristics, 68; contrast in manners between her and Madame de Longueville, 69; her numerous adorers; the Duke de Beaufort her titular lover, 70; her malignant hatred of Madame de Longueville, 71; employs her influence over the houses of Vendôme and Lorraine to the injury of her rival, 71; the affair of the dropped letters, 71; the party of the _Importants_ espouse her cause, 73; she is compelled to make a public apology before the Queen and Court, 74; the pretended reconciliation only a fresh declaration of war, 75; her conduct at the collation given the Queen by Madame de Chevreuse, 76; is banished by the King's order, 76; she inveigles Beaufort into a plot to destroy Mazarin, 89. 

 MONTESPAN, Françoise-Athenais de Rochechouart Mortemart, Duchess de, her fame as a beauty, 9; relations to her of the Dukes de Longueville and Beaufort, 14. 

 MONTPENSIER, Anne Marie Louise d'Orleans (known as _La Grande Mademoiselle_), daughter of Gaston, Duke d'Orleans and cousin of Louis XIV. , preserves the text of the dropped letters, 72; gives the two speeches made on the occasion of Madame de Montbazon's reparation, 74. 

 MOTTEVILLE, Frances Bertaut, Madame de, her amusing recital of the "mummeries" in the affair of the dropped letters, 74; her account of the Queen's reception of the news of the abortive attempt to kill Mazarin, 103; her portrait of Madame de Longueville, 135; the principal motive which urged La Rochefoucauld to woo the Duchess, 140. 

 NEMOURS, Marie d'Orleans, Duchess de (daughter of Henri, Duke de Longueville), her harsh censure of the pride and impracticability of the Condés, 165; quits Madame de Longueville to take refuge in a convent, 180; moves heaven and earth for the release of Condé that he might keep watch over the Duchess de Châtillon, 208; her character, 212; the enemy of the Fronde and the Condés, 227; her detestation of Madame de Longueville, 252. 

 NEMOURS, Charles Amadeus, of Savoy, Duke de, prompted by the Duchess de Châtillon, his mistress, embraces the cause of Condé, 208; pays court to Madame de Longueville instead of making active war in Berri, 262; the obscure relations between them at this juncture, drives La Rochefoucauld to a violent rupture with Madame de Longueville, 264. 

 ORLEANS, Gaston, Duke d' (brother of Louis XIII. ), conspires against Richelieu, 25; his incapacity to govern, 171; his jealousy of the influence of Condé and of Mazarin, 171; makes De Retz his confidant, who obtains his assent to the arrest of the Princes, 176; becomes the head of a fifth party in the Second Fronde, 200; consents to the liberation of the Princes on promise that his daughter should marry Condé's son, 207; governed by De Retz and Madame de Chevreuse, 258. 

 PETITS-MAÎTRES, the train of Condé called, their character, 288. 

 PALATINE, Anne de Gonzagua, Princess (widow of Edward Prince Palatine), peculiarities of her epistolary style, 124; her large intelligence, solidity, refinement and ingenuity of thought, 124; becomes the head and mainspring of the Princes' party, or Second Fronde, 179; the formidable political opponent of Mazarin, 179; her extraordinary political and diplomatical ability, 189; her antecedents, 190; her _liaison_ with Henri de Guise under a promise of marriage, 193; disguised in male attire she joins her lover at Besançon, 193; abandoned by the volatile de Guise, who elopes with the Countess de Bossuet, she returns to Paris, 194; is married to Prince Edward, Count Palatine of the Rhine, 194; by her conciliatory tact she obtains the esteem of all parties in the Fronde, 196; De Retz's eulogium and Madame de Motteville's opinion of her, 196; she operates on behalf of the imprisoned Princes, and negotiates four different treaties for their deliverance, 198; an alliance with the two camps concluded by her with De Retz, 224; she conducts with consummate skill the negotiation between Madame de Chevreuse and Madame de Longueville, 227. 

 PHALZBOURG, Princess de (sister of Charles IV. Of Lorraine), acts as a spy over Madame de Chevreuse in the interest of Mazarin, 147. 

 POLITICAL INTRIGUE, an affair of fashion among the ladies of Anne of Austria's Court, 56. 

 RAMBOUILLET, Hotel de, 9. 

 RETZ, John Francis Paul Gondi, Cardinal de, the evil genius of the Fronde, 151; his influence over the Parisians as Coadjutor, 151; his character--ladies of gallantry his chief political agents, 152; his conspicuous merits and faults, 172; his master-stroke of address, 201; his best concerted measures abortive through his inclination for the fair sex, 208; fails to acquire the confidence of anyone--is threatened with assassination, 209; lends an ear to Cromwell and contracts a close friendship with Montrose, 209; has the same interests with Madame de Chevreuse in securing the union of her daughter with Conti, 210; an analysis of his character, antecedents, and aspirations, 293; admitted unwillingly into the secret councils of the Queen, 240; his midnight interview with Anne of Austria, 241; holds the key of Paris, 275; he trims and follows the Duke d'Orleans, 280. 

 RICHELIEU, Cardinal de, his government through terror, 24; conspiracy to destroy him, 26-30; result of his efforts to consolidate the regal power, 32. 

 RICHELIEU, Duke de, engaged to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, but forced by Condé to marry clandestinely when under age, Mademoiselle de Pons, 174. 

 ROCHEFOUCAULD, Francis, second Duke de la--his career as Prince de Marsillac, 127; his character of the Duchess de Longueville, 10; his advice to Madame de Chevreuse, 39; Madame de Fouquerolles confides to him the secret of the dropped letters, 73; he delivers her and her lover from their terrible anxiety, 73; seeks to hush up and terminate the quarrel of the rival Duchesses, 80; constitutes himself the champion of Madame de Chevreuse's innocence of Beaufort's plot, 83; allies himself with that illustrious political adventuress, 128; desirous of securing to his party the master-mind of Condé to avenge himself of the Queen and Mazarin, 128; makes persistent love to Madame de Longueville and wins her heart, 129; his cynical maxim on the love of certain women, 129; his personal and mental characteristics, 137; the way in which he superseded Miossens as the lover of Madame de Longueville, 139; his sordid motive as her wooer, 140; his restless spirit and ever discontented vanity, 167; effects the escape from Paris of Madame de Longueville, 178; gives proof of a rare fidelity through the whole of "the Women's War, " 183; his ancestral château of Verteuil razed to the ground by Mazarin's orders, 183; his conduct at this time contradicts the assertion that he never loved the woman he seduced and dragged into the vortex of politics, 184; his version of the true cause of the rupture of the marriage between Mademoiselle de Chevreuse and Conti, 229: grows weary of a wandering and adventurous life, 255; the report of certain obscure relations existing between Nemours and Madame de Longueville drives him to a violent rupture with the Duchess, 264; his accusation more absurd than odious, 264; to indulge his revenge against Madame de Longueville, he enters into all Madame de Châtillon's designs, 295; directs her how to manage Condé and Nemours both at once, 298. 

 SCUDERY, Mademoiselle de, and the prudes of the Hotel de Rambouillet protest strongly against the marriage of Conti with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, 249. 

 SEGUIER, Pierre, Keeper of the Seals, his character, 49. 

 SEVIGNÉ, Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marquise de, gives a splendid supper to the Duchess de Chevreuse, 211. 

 SOISSONS, Count de, his conspiracy to destroy Cardinal de Richelieu, 25. 

 ST. MAURE, Countess of, the polish and precision of her epistolary style, 123. 

 TAVANNES, Count de, a valiant _petit-maître_ to whom Condé gives command of the army after Bleneau, 257. 

 TURENNE, Marshal de, raises the standard of revolt in behalf of the Fronde, 156; is won over to make a treaty with Spain by Madame de Longueville, 182; thanked by the Queen after Bleneau, for having placed the crown a second time on her son's head, 287; achieves the importance of being a rival of Condé, 289; attacks the enemy's camp when half the officers of Condé's army were at Madame de Montbazon's fête, 290. 

 VIGEAN, Mademoiselle de, Condé's love for, 292. 

 VENDÔME, Duke Cæsar de, the faction of, with La Vieuville and La Valette, when emigrants in England, 23; his pretensions and agitated life, 51; decides to exile himself in Italy and await the fall of Mazarin, 106. 

 VITRY, Marshal de, prepares with Count de Cramail a _coup-de-main_ against Richelieu, 25. 

END OF VOL. I. 

BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. , PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. 

 +------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Transcriber's Note | | | | | |The following changes were made to the original text [correction | |in brackets]: | | | |Page 16: (afterwards Duke de Rochefoucald [Rochefoucauld]) | |Page 33: Angoulêsme [Angoulême], until after the peace be | |Page 43: French language: ["]_La reine est si bonne!_" | |Page 79: royal authority now seriously theatened [threatened]. | |Page 85: oppose testimony more distinterested [disinterested], | |Page 85: confidental [confidential] letters furnish us. | |Page 146: _varures_ [parures], valued at two hundred thousand | |Page 157: troops, at the parades of the citizen soldiery. [, ] | |Page 165: exposed to one of those _coups d'êtat_ [d'état], | |Page 179: the Secretary of State, La Veillière [Vrillière], | |Page 184: firmness, ["] says Lenet, "that he seemed as though | |Page 202: Footnote 6: Leomeni[Loménie] de Brienne, Memoirs, 1828. | |Page 231: to look upon her with horror. "[removed]He even blamed | |Page 232: From that moment means of of[removed] breaking off | |Page 232: and obscurities resting upon this deli- [delicate] | |Page 234: missing anchor for Footnote 4 | |Page 269: La Rouchefoucauld [Rochefoucauld], getting Gondy | |Page 269: Rouchefoucauld [Rochefoucauld], he determined to set | |Page 279: his ban, quitted his retreat at Dinan, and and[removed]| |Page 282: went out to forage. He suceeded[succeeded] in procuring| |Page 303: her personal characteristics, 18:[;] | |Page 310: attack's[attacks] the enemy's camp when half | +------------------------------------------------------------------+