THE YOUTH 
 
 OF 
 
 MADAME DE LOMUEVILLE, 
 
 OB 
 
 NEW REVELATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 COURT AND CONVENT IN THE SEVENTEENTH 
 CENTURY. 
 
 FROM THE FRENCH OF VICTOR COUSIN. 
 
 BY F. W. RICORD. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 D. APPLETON & CO., 346 & 348 BROADWAY, 
 
 AND 16 LITTLE BRITAIN, LONDON. 
 M DCCC LIV. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, 
 BY D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United State* for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
TO 
 
 ABEAM COLES, M. D., 
 
 OF NEWARK, N. J., 
 
 AS A TRIBUTE TO HIS MANY VIRTUES, 
 
 AND AS A SMALL RETURN FOR HIS MANY KINDNESSES, 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 
 BY HIS FRIEND, 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The person of Madame de Longueville Description of contemporaries 
 Authentic portraits Her wit and style Her character Explana 
 tion of her conduct in the Fronde Mademoiselle de La Valliere and 
 Madame de Longueville 15 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 1619 to 1635. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon in her family Her mother, Charlotte de 
 Montmorency Her father, M. the Prince Her brother, the Duke 
 d Enghien Her religious education The convent of the Carmelites 
 of the Kue Saint-Jacques The four great prioresses Mademoiselle 
 
 d Epernon Mademoiselle de Bourbon at the ball of the Louvre, Feb 
 ruary 18, 1635 Her portrait at the age of fifteen years 79 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 1635 to 1642. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon at the hotel de Rambouillet The Genre Pre"- 
 cicux Madame do Sable, type of the true precieuse Corneille and 
 Voiture Mademoiselle de Bourbon at Chantilly At Euel At Lian- 
 court Her young friends Mademoiselle Du Vigean and Condc 
 Marriage of Mademoiselle de Bourbon 150 
 
o CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 1642 to 1644. 
 
 Poetry and gallantry State of affairs in 1643 Battle of Rocroy Maza- 
 rin and the Importants Madame de Montbazon Letter attributed to 
 Madame de Longueville Duel between Coligny and De Guise An 
 unpublished novel of the seventeenth century 24] 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1644 to 1649. 
 
 Campaigns of Conde" in Flanders and on the Ehine Congress and 
 peace of Munster Madame de Longueville at Munster Her portrait 
 by Van Hull Her return to France Her brother, the Prince de Conti 
 Sonnets of Voiture and of Beriserade La Eochefoucauld Com 
 mencement of his connection^with Madame de Longueville The first 
 Fronde Noble conduct of Conde Madame de Longueville at the 
 hotel de Villo Birth of Charles de Paris, Count de Saint-PaulPeace 
 of 1649... , 809 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 VILLEFORE has written the life of Madame de Longueville, 
 and it is not our intention to re-write it. We have only 
 wished to penetrate into the intimacy of a lofty spirit, that 
 inspires us with an especial interest, by the aid of the most 
 reliable documents that history can employ confidential 
 correspondences, in which hearts, opening themselves far 
 from the eye of the public, involuntarily reveal characters, 
 that is to say, the truest causes of human events. In order 
 to procure such documents, we have delved, with the perse 
 verance of passion, in libraries public and private, and have 
 succeeded in laying hands upon a very great number of un 
 published letters, which have elucidated for us many ob 
 scure points in the life of Mme. de Longueville, of that of 
 Conde, her brother, of their most celebrated contemporaries, 
 male and female. 
 
 In default, then, of every other merit, this production will 
 at least have that of offering to the reader things hitherto 
 unknown, or scarcely perceived : for example, the interior, 
 for the first time opened, of that great convent of the Car 
 melites of the Rue Saint Jacques, which served as an asylum 
 to so many wounded hearts, where Mile, de Bourbon was, as 
 it were, brought up, and wished, at fifteen years of age, to 
 
10 PRO ACE. 
 
 bury her beauty and her genius ; the graceful pastimes of her 
 youth at the Louvre, at the hotel de Rambouillet, at Chan- 
 tilly, at Ruel, at Liancourt ; her charming friends, her bril 
 liant and valiant adorers ; the skilful and too little appre 
 ciated politics of her father ; the military education, and also 
 the first loves of Conde ; above all, that pure and touching 
 Mile. Du Vigean, worthy object of the tenderness of a hero, 
 whom we have in some sort found again, whom we dare to 
 put by the side of Mile, de La Valliere. 
 
 For more than fifteen years, in our hours of leisure, we 
 have dreamed of a work the most foreign to our ordinary 
 labors, which has attracted us, and attached us by its very 
 contrast. The great men, and particularly the great writers, of 
 the seventeenth century, are almost our contemporaries ; but 
 the women were then not less remarkable than the men, and 
 scarcely any of them, except Mme. de Sevigne, Mme. de La 
 Fayette, and a very few others, are known ; whilst there were 
 everywhere, at the court and in the salons of Paris, in the 
 brilliant country-seats of the aristocracy, and in the austere 
 retreats of religion, women of great spirit and great heart, who 
 doubtless knew not how to write like professional authors, 
 who nevertheless wrote much, because it was the mode of the 
 times, who would not write in a mediocre manner, with the 
 thoughts and sentiments on which they had been nourished. 
 We have therefore amused ourselves in searching for, and we 
 have succeeded in discovering a literature wholly feminine, 
 three-quarters unknown, which does not seem to us unworthy 
 of having a place by the side of the manly literature in pos 
 session of universal admiration. Hence the project of a gal 
 lery of illustrious females of the seventeenth century, upon 
 the model of the illustrious men of Perrault. We have 
 given the first page of such a history in JACQUELINE PAS- 
 
PREFACE. 11 
 
 CAL ; J and this is probably the last. Age is coming on ; the 
 heavens are growing dark ; and we owe ourselves to more 
 serious thoughts, to a great cause which we have heretofore 
 served with the ardor and the energy of yo uth, which to-day, 
 compromised by some, betrayed by others, claims our last 
 efforts, and our highest devotion.* Nevertheless, we shall 
 not regret the moments that we have given to these studies, 
 somewhat light, if they can increase the knowledge of, and a 
 taste for the most admirable epoch of our history, of that 
 powerful French society of the seventeenth century, which is 
 the more admired the more it is seen under its different* as 
 pects ; when France was a spectacle to the nations, and 
 marched at the head of humanity, when philosophy was an 
 honor, as well as poetry and the arts, the religious spirit and 
 the military spirit; when Descartes divided public esteem 
 with Corneille and Conde ; when Mme. de Grignan studied 
 him with a passionate vivacity ; when Bossuet and Arnauld, 
 Fenelon and Malebranche, openly declared themselves his dis 
 ciples. So that, to speak truly, at that common focus of the 
 great and the beautiful, our literary predilections and our 
 
 1 Fourth Series of our works, Literature, vol. ii. 
 
 2 It remains for us to collect from all our writings the scattered ele 
 ments of a new Theodicea, especially founded upon an exact Psychol 
 ogy, fecundated by a legitimate induction, with the double purpose of 
 defending the great faith of the human race against the detestable phi 
 losophy which Germany, in these last times, has sent into France, after 
 having borrowed it from her, and of defending also true and good 
 philosophy against a pusillanimous devotion, unworthy of Christianity, 
 and condemned by the Church, which refuses to human reason the 
 right and the power of elevating itself, even to God. It especially re 
 mains to us to put the last hand to that translation of Plato, which we 
 would make the least perishable monument of our philosophic enter 
 prise. 
 
12 PREFAt I - 
 
 philosophic faith arc tied to each other in an intimate man 
 ner, and reciprocally vivify each other. 
 
 But if the seventeenth century has more than ever our ad 
 miration, we guard ourselves from the too much accredited 
 error that confounds that century with the reign of Louis XIV. 
 Surely Louis XIV. is for us also a great king. He had, what 
 is rarest in the world, grandeur in character ; that is his im 
 mortal glory. Moreover, he was reserved, attentive, laborious, 
 capable of a firm and persistent course ; but, it must be said, 
 he was profoundly selfish, and loved his person and his family 
 mifch more than France. He was radically deceived in the 
 only two enterprises that originated in his own will, the rev 
 ocation of the Edict of Nantes, and the wars of the Succession. 
 He left France humiliated, enfeebled, discontented, and al 
 ready full of the germs of revolutions ; whilst Henry IV., 
 Richelieu, and Mazarin had transmitted it to him covered 
 with glory, powerful and preponderant abroad, tranquil and 
 satisfied at home. Louis XIV. terminates the seventeenth 
 century : he did not inspire it, and he is far from being its 
 perfect representative. It was under Henry IV., under Louis 
 XIII., and under Queen Anne, that were born, formed, and 
 even developed, the great statesmen and the great warriors, as 
 well as the greatest writers of either sex, those even, like Ma 
 dame de Sevigne and Bossuet, whose career was most pro 
 longed. The influence of Louis XIV. made itself felt suffi 
 ciently late. He took the reins of government only in 1661, 
 and at first he followed his times, and did not control 
 them ; he truly appeared himself, only when he was no longer 
 guided by Lyonne and Colbert, the last disciples of Richelieu 
 and Mazarin. It was then that, governing almost alone and 
 superior to all around him, he placed everywhere the impress 
 of his taste, in politics, in religion, in manners, in arts, and 
 in letters. He substituted in every way simplicity for naivete, 
 
PREFACE. 13 
 
 nobility for grandeur, dignity for force, elegance for grace : 
 he effaced characters, and polished, as it were, the surface of 
 souls ; he eradicated great vices and great virtues ; he put 
 the purely literary, and consequently the somewhat inferior 
 school of Racine and Boileau in the place of that great school 
 of virtue, politics, and war, instituted by Corn ei lie ; as heirs 
 to Descartes, Pascal, and Bossuet, he gave Massillon, Fonte- 
 nelle, and Voltaire the true children of the end of the sev 
 enteenth century. After Madame de Sevigne, that rival of 
 Moliere, formed, like him, from 1640 to 1660, appeared 
 Mme. de Maintenon, the model of the common -place, with 
 her agreeable small-talk, Mme. de Coylus, Mme. de Stael, and 
 Mme. Lambert. Add to that, as we have already said, the 
 wholly gratuitous revocation of the Edict of Nantes, when 
 Protestants, subdued, but protected, rivalled in zeal the Cath 
 olics for the service of the state, and when their most illus 
 trious families were by degrees converted ; add especially, 
 the deplorable wars undertaken by Louis XIV., with a min 
 istry of court clerks and generals, in order to put the crown 
 of Spain on the head of his grandson, when in exchange for 
 his pretensions, and without drawing the sword, he might 
 have given Belgium to France ; and you have the end of a 
 reign that little resembles its beginning ; for the begin 
 ning comes from a wholly different genius from that genius 
 which inspired Henry IV., Richelieu, and Mazarin, dictated 
 the Edict of Nantes, the treaty of Munster, and that of the 
 Pyrenees, the Cid, Polyeucte, and Cinna, the Discours de la 
 Methode, and the Provinciales, Don Juan, and the Misan 
 thrope, and the most pathetic sermons of Bossuet. It is 
 genius that we recall, and glorify everywhere in this work ; 
 because to our eyes it is the genius itself of France at the 
 epoch of her true greatness. 
 
 If the public receives these studies somewhat favorably, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 we shall offer to it their sequel ; we will exhibit also Mme. 
 de Longueville during the Fronde, and after her conversion, 
 from 1649 to 1680. It is certainly not the least beautiful 
 part of the seventeenth century. 
 
 V. COUSIN. 
 DECEMBER 15, 1852. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The person of Madame de Longueville Description of contemporaries 
 Authentic portraits Her wit and styleHer character Explana 
 tion of her conduct in the Fronde Mademoiselle de La Valliere and 
 Madame de Longueville. 
 
 THERE are three well-defined periods in the life of 
 the Duchess de Longueville. 1 
 
 Born in 1619, in the castle of Vincennes, during 
 the captivity of her father, Henri de Bourbon, prince 
 de Conde, whose imprisonment was shared by his 
 young wife, that celebrated beauty, Charlotte Mar 
 guerite de Montniorency, we at first see Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon, growing in graces by the side of such a 
 mother, dividing her time between the convent of the 
 
 1 See the work of Villefow: The Life of Madame the Duchess do 
 Longueville^ in two parts. There are two somewhat different editions. 
 The first, which we shall quote, is of 1738, without indication of place; 
 the second of Amsterdam, 1739. 
 
16 MADAME J)K LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Carmelites and the hotel de Rambouillet, nourishing 
 her heart with pious emotions and romantic reading j 
 going to a ball, but with an under-garment of hair 
 cloth ; sharing the confidence of a hero, her brother, 
 the Duke d Enghien ; sympathizing with him in his 
 love of the beautiful Mademoiselle Du Vigean, and 
 witnessing her entrance into a cloister, where she her 
 self is destined at last to die. At the age of twenty- 
 three years she marries M. de Longueville, who is 
 forty-seven, and who, instead of making up for this 
 disparity, by an assiduous tenderness, continues in the 
 suite of the saddest coquette of the time, the famous 
 Duchess de Montbazon. Outraged by this rival, un 
 protected by a husband, who is even incapable of 
 jealousy, she yields little by little to the contagion 
 which surrounds her ; and returning to Paris, after 
 passing some time amid the magnificent distractions 
 of the embassy of Munster, she suffers herself to be 
 captivated by the wit, grand air, and chivalrous ap 
 pearance of Prince de Marcillac, afterwards Duke 
 de La Eochefoucauld. This liaison shapes her life, 
 and closes its first period in 1648. 
 
 The Fronde with its vicissitudes ; love such as it 
 was understood at the hotel de Kambouillet, the love 
 of Corneille and Scudery with its enchantments and 
 its griefs, mingled with dangers and glory, crossed 
 by a thousand adventures, the vanquisher of the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 rudest obstacles, and yielding to its own infirmities 
 in fine, exhausting itself; such is the second period, 
 so short and so full, beginning in 1648, and closing 
 in the midst of 1654. 
 
 From this time the whole life of Madame de 
 Longueville is one long, austere penance, performed 
 successively in Normandy, near her aged husband, 
 among the Carmelites, at Port Royal, and finally con 
 cluded in 1679. 
 
 Thus at first a spotless reputation, then faults, then 
 expiation divide the career of Madame de Longue 
 ville. 
 
 It is in this order that we have collected, and that 
 we shall present all that patient research has enabled 
 us to gather concerning Madame de Longueville. We 
 shall give political and religious writings, and espe 
 cially confidential letters, thrown off from her pen 
 during every important moment of her life, and 
 which exhibit it in a manner equally faithful and 
 agreeable. 
 
 But if the writings and letters which we are about 
 to publish, elucidate the character of Madame de 
 Longueville, it is quite as true that the character, 
 well comprehended, explains them and places them 
 in their true light. To introduce and give interest to 
 a work, it is usual to begin with some details respect 
 ing its author ; and as in this case the author is a 
 
 2* 
 
18 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 woman, it is necessary to become acquainted with her 
 person, as well as with her mind and her heart. 
 
 I. 
 
 Anne Genevieve de Bourbon was the daughter, as 
 we have said, of that Charlotte Marguerite de Montmo- 
 rency,Trincess de Conde, who had turned the head of 
 Henry IV., and whom, it is said, he wished to snatch 
 from the hands of her jealous husband, at the risk of 
 setting all Europe in commotion. The daughter was 
 at least as beautiful as the mother, and this was a 
 principal advantage of Madame de Longueville, 
 which, we confess, possesses for us no ordinary at 
 tractions. 
 
 Beauty extends its prestige to posterity itself, and 
 attaches a charm, for centuries, to the name alone of 
 the privileged creatures upon whom it has pleased 
 God to bestow it. But I speak of true beauty. 
 This is not less rare than genius and virtue. Beauty 
 has also its epochs. It does not belong to all men 
 and to all ages to taste it in its exquisite truth. As 
 there are fashions which spoil it, there are periods 
 which affect its sentiment. For example, it became 
 the eighteenth century to invent pretty women 
 those charming dolls, perfumed and powdered, af- 
 the attractions which they do not possess 
 
INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 under their vast hoops and great furbelows. It was 
 quite sufficient to prattle in a salon^ to write Lettres 
 peruviennes, to serve as models for the heroines of 
 the younger Crebillon, and to turn the heads of the 
 heroes of Rosbach. Those of Rocroy and of Lens, 
 the contemporaries of Richelieu, of Descartes, and of 
 Corneille, the energetic and somewhat rude men who 
 preceded Louis XIY., and who delighted in a life of 
 agitation, but to end it like Pascal and Ranee, would 
 not have been tempted to bend the knee before such 
 frail idols. Let us dare to say that the foundation of 
 true beauty, as of true virtue, as of true genius, is 
 force. Shed over this force a ray of heaven, ele 
 gance, grace, delicacy, and you have beauty. Its 
 perfect type is the Venus of Milo ;* or again, that 
 pure and mysterious apparition, goddess or mortal, 
 which is called the Psyche, or the Yenus of Naples. 2 
 Beauty is certainly to be seen in the Yenus de Medi- 
 cis, but in this we feel that it is declining, or about 
 to decline. Look at, not the women of Titian, but 
 the virgins of Raphael and of Leonardi : the face is 
 of infinite delicacy, but the body evinces strength ; 
 they will disgust you forever w r ith the shadows and 
 
 1 Quatremere de Qnincy: Dissertation upon the Antique Statue of 
 Venus, discovered in the Island of Milo, in 4 ; and Collection of Ar 
 cheologkal Dissertations, 1836, in 8, p. 143. 
 
 2 Millengen : Ancient Unedited Monuments, in fol. : London, 1826, 
 p. 15, plate viii. 
 
20 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 monkeys d la Pompadour. Adore grace, but do not 
 in every thing separate it too much from force, for 
 without force grace soon shares the fate of the flower 
 that is separated from the stem wliicli animates and 
 sustains it. 
 
 It was Florence, it was its artists and its princes, 
 that carried into France the sentiment of true beauty. 
 Here it was rapidly developed, and, for various rea 
 sons which I cannot now even point out, it reigned 
 among us until near the close of the XYIIth cen 
 tury. 
 
 What a train of accomplished women this century 
 presents to us ! women who were loaded with admi 
 ration, drawing after them all hearts, and spreading 
 from rank to rank that worship of beauty which 
 throughout all Europe received the name of French 
 gallantry ! They accompany this great century in its 
 too rapid course; they mark its principal epochs, 
 beginning with Charlotte de Montmorency, and 
 finishing with Madame de Montespan. Between 
 these place the lady of the High Constable of 
 Liivnes, afterwards Duchess de Chevreuse, Madame 
 de Hautefort, Madame de Montbazon, Madame de 
 Gucmenee, Madame de Chatillon, Marie de Gon- 
 zague, afterwards Queen of Poland, her sister the 
 Palutine, and so many others, among whom, to my 
 (.xlivme regret, I dare not mention Mademoiselle de 
 
INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 La Valliere, and yet am compelled to place Madame 
 de Maintenon. 
 
 Madame de Longueville has her place in this daz 
 zling gallery. She had all the characteristics of true 
 beauty, joining to it a peculiar charm. 
 
 She was of good stature and of an admirable form. 
 Embonpoint with all its advantages were not wanting 
 to her. She possessed, as I cannot doubt in examin 
 ing the authentic portraits before me, that kind of 
 attraction so much prized during the XYIIth cen 
 tury, and which, with beautiful hands, had made the 
 reputation of Anne of Austria. Her eyes were of 
 the most tender blue. Her fine light hair, descend 
 ing in large ringlets, displayed the graceful contour 
 of her face, and overspread her admirable shoulders, 
 much exposed, according to the fashion of the times. 
 Behold the foundation of true beauty. Add to it a 
 complexion whose whiteness, delicacy, and tempered 
 lustre have given it the name of pearly. This 
 charming complexion displayed every shade of senti 
 ment that crossed her soul. In speech she was most 
 gentle. Her gestures, with the expression of her 
 countenance, and the sound of her voice, produced 
 the completest music ; such is the language of a dis 
 interested contemporary, a Jansenist, Nicole, per 
 haps, who describes her as " the most perfect actress 
 in the world." But her peculiar charm consisted in 
 
22 MADAME DE LONGDEVILLE. 
 
 a graceful ease, a languor, as all her contemporaries 
 expressed it, which would change to the highest de 
 gree of animation when passion seized her, but which 
 usually gave her an air of indolence and aristocratic 
 carelessness, mistaken sometimes for ennuie, some 
 times for disdain. I have observed this air in but 
 one person in all France, and this person has left a 
 memory so pure, I may say so holy, that I dare not 
 name her in this connection, even to compare her 
 with Madame de Longueville. 
 
 Believe me, I am not drawing upon my fancy for 
 a portrait. I confine myself strictly to the best 
 authorities. I will cite them, if necessary, to prove 
 my perfect exactness. 
 
 Let us begin with him who knew her best, and 
 who certainly has not flattered her. " This princess," 
 says La Eochefoucauld in his Memoires? " had all 
 the advantages of mind and beauty in such perfec 
 tion, that it seemed as if nature had in her taken 
 peculiar pleasure in forming a masterpiece." 
 
 Listen also to Cardinal de Ketz, a very good judge 
 in such matters, and who would have gladly taken 
 the place of La Eochefoucauld. "In regard to 
 Madame de Longueville, the small-pox had marred 
 
 1 The only two good and complete editions are those of Eenouard, 
 1804 and 1817, and that of the collection of Petitot. See this last vol. 
 51, p. 455. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 her original beauty, 1 but it had left her nearly all its 
 brilliancy, and this brilliancy, joined to her quality, 
 her wit, and her languor, which in her possessed a 
 peculiar charm, rendered her one of the most amia 
 ble persons in France." 2 And elsewhere : " She had 
 a languor in her manner more touching than the ani 
 mation of those who were more beautiful." 
 
 After consulting her male contemporaries, let us 
 examine the opinions of those of her own sex. We 
 may, it would seem, believe them when they eulo 
 gize the beauty of another. Observe what Madame 
 de Motteville says in several places concerning that 
 of Madame de Longueville : " Mademoiselle de Bour 
 bon was beginning to display the first charms of that 
 angelic face which has since become so celebrated." 3 
 " If Madame de Longueville 4 exerted great influence 
 in this way (by her mind and fortune), the influence 
 of her beauty was not less powerful ; for although the 
 small-pox had, since the regency, somewhat injured 
 the perfection of her complexion, the brilliancy oi 
 her charms attracted those who saw her ; and she 
 possessed in the highest degree what the Spanish 
 
 1 This disease attacked her during the year of her marriage. Scarcely 
 any trace of it remained. 
 
 2 Retz, Amsterdam, 1731, vol. i., p. 185. Ibid., vol. iv., p. 219. 
 
 3 Memoirs, Amsterdam, 1750, vol. i., p. 44. 
 
 4 Vol. ii., p. 16-17. 
 
24: MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 language expresses by those words donayre, Irio, y 
 tyzarria (gallant air). She had an admirable form, 
 and her personal appearance had a charm whose 
 power extended even over our own sex. It was im 
 possible to see her without loving her, and without 
 desiring to please her. Her beauty, however, con 
 sisted more in the coloring of her face than in the 
 perfection of her features. Her eyes were not large, 
 but beautiful, soft, and brilliant, and their blue was 
 admirable ; it was similar to that of the turquoise. 
 Poets could compare the white and incarnation of 
 her face to lilies and roses only ; and the light shin 
 ing hair which accompanied so many other wonder 
 ful things, made her resemble an angel, such as our 
 feeble nature can conceive one, rather than a woman : 
 
 Poca grana y mucha nieve 
 Van competiendo en su cara, 
 Y entre lirios y iasnrines 
 Assomanse algunas rosas. " 
 
 To these different passages from Madame de Motte- 
 ville, we would add a single line from the great 
 Mademoiselle, who was not troubled with extreme 
 benevolence: "Madame de Longueville was old; 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon was young and beautiful 
 as an angel." 1 
 
 1 Memoirs, Amsterdam, 1735, vol. i., p. 45. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 And the angelic air as well as the pearly complex 
 ion must have belonged to Madame de Longueville 
 in a peculiar manner, since we again find these ex 
 pressions in an unpublished letter 1 of another female 
 of the same period, Mademoiselle de Vaudy, who 
 writes to Madame de Longueville in 1655 : " Though 
 your Highness had not the tint of the pearl, the mind 
 
 and the sweetness of an angel " Does not this 
 
 unintentional agreement of different persons prove 
 the general effect produced by Madame de Longue 
 ville, and the justness of the comparisons naturally 
 suggested by her beauty ? 
 
 This fortuitous and striking harmony authorizes 
 and fully justifies the language, which might other 
 wise be suspected, of Scudery, in the dedication of 
 Artamene on, le Grand Cyrus : " The beauty which 
 you possess in the highest degree .... is not the most 
 remarkable of your gifts, although an object of won 
 der to all the world. Doubtless we realize in your 
 Highness the most perfect idea, whether it be of 
 form, of which yours is so beautiful and so noble, or 
 of majestic bearing, or of beautiful hair, or of bril- 
 
 1 Library of the Arsenal, Manuscripts of Conrart, in fol., vol. viii., 
 p. 145. On Mademoiselle de Vaudy, the relative and friend of Madame 
 the Countess de Maure, see Mademoiselle, vol. iii., p. 58, and vol. v., p. 
 25, as well as her portrait among the portraits of Mademoiselle. See 
 also Tallemant, vol. ii., p. 334. 
 
 3 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 liancy, as well in the eyes, in the clearness and viva 
 city of complexion, in the just proportion of all the 
 features, and in that modest and gallant air, which 
 is the soul of beauty." 1 
 
 Not content with this description, Scudery has 
 taken it up again, and, as we would now-a-days say, 
 illustrated it with a portrait of Madame de Longue- 
 ville, just as Chapelain, in dedicating La Pucelle to 
 her husband, placed the portrait of that prince at 
 the beginning of his work. This leads us to say a 
 few words in regard to the different portraits which 
 we have seen of Madame de Longueville ; they pre- 
 
 1 In an obscure work, entitled, The Life of Pierre Dubosc, Minister 
 of the^ Holy Gospel, enriched with Letters, Harangues, etc., Rotterdam, 
 1G98, in-8o, I find a speech made to Madame de Longueville, at Caen 
 in June, 1648, in which the good Protestant minister speaks of her very 
 much like Scudery, p. 328 : " The portrait, Madame, which fame has 
 made of you, is known throughout the world ; and it is so full of mar 
 vels that every one supposes the original to be flattered until he has the 
 happiness of seeing you. Then all admit that what the public voice 
 says of your Highness is but a pencil-sketch of what you are. ... It 
 is impossible to paint too well that agreeable mixture of sweetness and 
 majesty which tempers your countenance, and which at once gives bold 
 ness and fear to those who have the honor to approach your person. It 
 is impossible to express that inimitable address which appears in all 
 your actions, that brilliant vivacity so admired in your words, that grace 
 ful and grand air which causes your silence to be respected. And what 
 pencil can represent that mind, formed by the hand of the Graces and 
 cultivated by that of the Muses, which produces nothing in you but 
 that is judicious, delicate, brilliant, which gains for you the admiration 
 I.,. :,,rc, the rapture of the court, the applause of the provinces, 
 which has even merited the homage of enemies at Munstcr, bringing 
 them to your feet, while they refused peace to all Europe." 
 
INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 sent her to us in the gracefulness of youth, in the 
 full splendor of all her charms, in her maturity. 
 
 King Louis-Philippe conceived the happy idea of 
 assembling at Yersailles, in the galleries of the sec 
 ond floor, all the portraits which he could collect of 
 the celebrated personages of France. Among them 
 we find 1 a portrait of Madame de Longueville in 
 youth, by the side of her father, Henri de Bourbon, 
 and of her mother, Charlotte de Montmorency. It 
 is unfortunately a copy. A note placed behind the 
 frame says that this copy was made from an original 
 painting of Ducayer executed in 1634. Mademoi 
 selle de Bourbon, bom in 1619, was then but fifteen 
 years old. It is impossible to see or to imagine a 
 more charming creature. All the signs of her future 
 great beauty are already visible ; certain attractions 
 are still wanting, but the strength which promises 
 and assures them is stamped upon every part. 
 
 We again behold her, after her marriage, and dur 
 ing the embassy of Minister, in 1646 and 1647. She 
 is now twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age. 
 Anselrn Yan Hull is the author of this portrait. It 
 is a bust, with a highly ornamented frame. The 
 young woman has well preserved all that the young 
 giri promised. The forms of beauty are developed. 
 
 3 Attique du Nord, No. 2178. 
 
28 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Her tresses are magnificent. She lias the collar of 
 pearls, which seldom quits her. This portrait is 
 engraved in the collection of the negotiators of 
 Munster. 1 
 
 That -which is prefixed to the first volume of the 
 Grand Cyrus represents Madame de Longueville in 
 1649. 2 Her age at this period is thirty years. This 
 engraving is by Regnesson, brother-in-law of Nan- 
 teuil, after Chauveau. There are also two other en 
 gravings, slightly differing from each other, one by 
 Moncomet, the other by Frosne. Among the enamel 
 pictures of Petitot, in the museum of the Louvre, is 
 one, in our opinion, ordinary enough, marked "No. 50, 
 which is referred to Madame de Longueville. All 
 these portraits are of nearly 4he same period, and 
 give her the same character of beauty, strength, and 
 ampleness of form, face more full than in Van Hull, 
 and a more marked embonpoint. To the honor of 
 Scudery, it must be said that the passages from the 
 dedication of the Grand Cyrus, which we have 
 quoted, may serve as a faithful text to the engraving 
 
 I Pacificatores orbis CJiristiani, sivc icones principum, ducum et le- 
 gatorum qui Monasterii atque Osnabrugce pacem Europce reconciliarunt, 
 quosque singulos ad nativam imaginem expresslt Van Hull, celissimi 
 prindpis Auriaci dum viverct pictor, in folio, Eotterodami, 1697. This 
 portrait has been often reproduced, among others, in the Europe, illustrt 
 and the Collection of Odieuvrc. 
 
 II This is, in fact, the date of the first edition of the first part, as 
 given in the patent, printed January 7, 1649. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 which accompanies them. Here are those light 
 tresses, those eyes so soft, that complexion of daz 
 zling brightness, and I may add that graceful and 
 noble dress so becoming to beauty, even as the fe 
 male dress of the eighteenth century seems to have 
 been invented for ugliness itself. 
 
 Finally, the museum of Versailles 1 contains an 
 other portrait of Madame de Longueville, attributed 
 to Mignard. It is easy to recognize in it the noble 
 lady, whose image is prefixed to the Grand Cyrus. 
 It is truly Madame de Longueville, with that grand 
 air and amiable languor, which every one attributes 
 to her. She is sitting, dressed in a rich court cos 
 tume, and holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand. 
 
 Let us not forget to mention a beautiful silver 
 medallion, 2 without date, and without engraver s 
 name, which represents her at nearly the same age 
 as the portrait of Versailles, in her beautiful matu 
 rity, and in the opulence of her charms. 3 
 
 1 Gallery of the first floor, No. 2195. 
 
 a Cabinet of Medallions, with this inscription : AN. GEN. BOKBONIA, 
 D. LONG, S. P. Novi CASTKI. On the other side of the medal is the 
 portrait of her husband. 
 
 3 There should be at the Chateau d Eu a portrait of Madame de 
 Longueville, 22 inches by 18, which comes from the old collection of the 
 Duchess de Montpensier. See vol. ii., p. 124, the work of M. Vatout, 
 entitled, Historical and Descriptive Catalogue of the Pictures belonging to 
 Ms Royal Highness the Duke of Orleans. 4 vols., in-8, 1823. It is so 
 long since we have seen this portrait, that we cannot say at what period 
 it represents Madame de Longueville, wherein it diifers from or resem- 
 
 3* 
 
30 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Even after her conversion, and when she had en 
 tirely renounced the world, she preserved a portion 
 of her beauty ; and a gentleman who saw her at this 
 time at the house of her brother, the Prince de Conde, 
 declared 1 that the progress of age was scarcely visi 
 ble upon her ; that her piety became her ; that her 
 candor, her modesty, and her sweetness, ennobled by 
 her air of dignity, rendered her at this period as 
 capable of pleasing as ever. 
 
 II. 
 
 In describing the person of Madame de Longue- 
 ville, we find ourselves tracing the character of her 
 mind and of her soul. 
 
 Her mind has received the homage of the most 
 delicate connoissieurs. "We have seen that La Roche 
 foucauld, Eetz, and Madame de Motteville praise it 
 as much as they "do her beauty. Retz urges particu 
 larly that this mind owed every thing to nature, and 
 almost nothing to study, its indolence removing it 
 from every effort in ordinary things. " Madame de 
 
 blcs other portraits of her, or by what hand it was produced. It is per 
 haps the portrait which is at Versailles. Father Lelong mentions the 
 following portraits of Madame de Longueville : 1, Van Hull; 2, Poilly, 
 in fol. (We have not found this portrait in the work of Poilly in the 
 Stamp-Office. See note, p. 363.) 8, Frosne ; 4, Moncornct; 5, the 
 collection of Odieuvre. 
 1 Villefore, 2d part, p. 170. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 Longueville," says he, " lias naturally a great fund 
 of wit, but she has still more finesse and tact. 
 Her capacity, which has not been aided by her in 
 dolence, is not exercised upon business matters, 1 etc." 
 And speaking of the languor of her manners : " She 
 had even a languor of the mind, which was charm 
 ing, because it had, if we may so speak, luminous 
 and startling awakenings." Madame de Motte- 
 ville coincides with the Cardinal de Retz : " This 
 princess . . . was very indolent." 2 The occu 
 pation furnished by the applause of the great world, 
 which ordinarily regards with too much admiration 
 the fine qualities of persons of rank, had deprived 
 Madame de Longueville of opportunities for reading 
 and for storing her mind sufficiently to be called 
 learned. 3 She was indeed far enough from this, and 
 did not pique herself at all upon her acquirements. 
 While her two brothers, the Prince de Conde and the 
 Prince de Conti, had studied assiduously with the 
 Jesuits of Bourges and of Paris, Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon had received, under the direction of her 
 mother, nothing more than the simple instructions 
 given in those times to women. A happy disposition 
 and social intercourse with the choice spirits around 
 her supplied every thing. Even at an early age she 
 
 1 Eetz, vol. i., p. 219. a Ibid., vol. iii., p. 59. 
 
 3 Eetz, vol. ii., p. IS. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 acquired a great reputation, and I find that while yet 
 a child she was loaded with praises and even with 
 dedications. I have now before me & pastoral tragic 
 comedy, entitled Uranie, 1 which a certain Bridard 
 dedicated to her in 1631, that is, when she was 
 twelve years old. This Bridard says to her : " The 
 most perfect courtiers know that you have a mind 
 far before your years. I can myself testify to this, 
 having heard you recite verses with so much grace, 
 that one might suppose that an angel, borrowing 
 your beauty, had descended upon the earth to dis 
 course upon the wonders of heaven." I quote this 
 passage from that book forgotten, and justly for 
 gotten, because it forestalls all those of Madame de 
 Motteville, of Mademoiselle de Montpensier, and of 
 Mademoiselle de Yaudy. At twelve years we find 
 her an angel, and so called ever afterwards. From 
 early youth she had, with her brother, the Duke 
 d Enghien, frequented the hotel de Rambouillet; 
 and the salons of the Rue Saint Thomas du Louvre 
 were not the most proper school for a mind char 
 acterized by grandeur and finesse, but a grandeur 
 tending to the romantic, and a finesse often degene 
 rating into subtility a mind, too, like that of Cor- 
 neille, the perfect representative of its epoch. It 
 
 1 In-12. We possess the copy of the dedication which belonged to 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon, and which bears her arms. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 33 
 
 seems, however, that the hotel de Kambouillet did 
 not fasten upon her its likes and dislikes, for one 
 day, while listening to the reading of La Pucclle of 
 Chapelain, so praised in this quarter, and hearing 
 the remarks upon its pretended beauties " Yes," 
 said she, 1 " it is very beautiful, but it is very tire 
 some !" Somewhat in the same manner her brother, 
 the great Conde, defended Corneille against the 
 rules, exclaiming that he could not pardon rules 
 which forced the Abbe d Aubignac to write such 
 bad tragedies. She was everywhere proclaimed the 
 sovereign judge of all writings, the queen of wit, the 
 arbiter of taste and of elegance, as Horace says. In 
 1649, in the quarrel concerning the two sonnets of 
 Benserade and of Voiture, the whole court took the 
 part of Benserade ; but Madame de Longueville 
 having declared herself in favor of Voiture, every 
 one went over to her side. And at this period of her 
 life she must have yielded to the prevailing taste, 
 and must have been somewhat of a precieuse, for 
 Madame de Motteville, in speaking of the principal 
 beauty of her mind, which lay in delicacy of thought, 
 accuses her of affectation, adding immediately, as if 
 to excuse herself for finding any blemish in so ac 
 complished a pei-son : " All men partake of that clay 
 
 1 Villefore, p. 75. 
 
34: MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 from which they originate, and God alone is per 
 fect." 1 
 
 All agree in saying that she conversed divinely, 
 and with an exquisite mixture of vivacity and sweet 
 ness. The charm of her conversation must have been 
 very extraordinary to have survived her youth and 
 her worldly life, and still subsist in devotion and 
 penitence. The Jansenist writer who left us a por 
 trait, or, as it was then called, a character of Madame 
 de Longueville, 2 does not hesitate to compare, and 
 almost prefer her, to one of the most intellectual men, 
 and most celebrated cenversationists, of the SYIIth 
 century, M. de Treville. 3 "The manner in which 
 Madame de Longueville conversed is something to 
 be studied. . . . Every thing that she said was so 
 well said, that it would have been difficult, even 
 with much study, to say it better. There were more 
 lively and rare things in what M. de Treville uttered, 
 but there was more delicacy, and more spirit and 
 good sense in Madame de Longueville s manner of 
 expression." 
 
 1 Vol. ii., p. 19. a Ibid., p. 7. 
 
 1 Boileau, in his letter to Perrault, places the Count de Treville 
 among the nicest judges of wit. Saint-Simon undertakes to paint him, 
 vol. iv., p. 184, and thus finishes his portrait, vol. vi., p. 372: He had 
 belonged " to the great world, at one time a courtier, then a devotee 
 and recluse, again, by degrees, an active member of the best society, 
 al ways gallant, full of wit, and of the most refined taste." He had loved 
 Madame, the amiable Henriette, and the beautiful do Ludre. See the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 But to speak and to write are two very different 
 things, each demanding a particular cultivation ; and 
 that Madame de Longueville did not study, is evi 
 dent as soon as she takes up the pen. Her great 
 natural qualities showed themselves with difficulty 
 through the faults of every kind which resulted from 
 her inexperience. It is in fact no small affair to ex 
 press one s sentiments and ideas in a natural order, 
 with their true shades, and in terms neither too nice 
 nor too vulgar, terms which neither exaggerate noi 
 enfeeble them. It is not unusual to find men full of 
 wit, enthusiasm, and grace when they speak, and 
 who, when they take up the pen, become contempti 
 ble. It is because writing is an art, a very difficult 
 art, and which must have been learned. Madame 
 de Longueville was entirely ignorant of it, and so 
 were the most eminent women of her time. I have 
 elsewhere 1 spoken of Madame Angelique Arnaud 
 and of Jacqueline Pascal, who, though highly gifted, 
 have left but very imperfect works. All are unani 
 mous in representing the Princess Palatine as a per- 
 
 Memoirs of Lafare and Madame de Sevigne", letter of the 13th March, 
 1671. It is said that the observation, lie talks like a T)ook, was first 
 made concerning him. He is the Arsmt of the characteres of La Bru- 
 y ere. I have seen some of his unpublished letters ; the language is the 
 best, but for any thing else they are not remarkable. 
 
 1 IVth Series of pur works, LITERATURE, vol. ii., Jacqueline Pascal, 
 p. 2i\ 
 
36 MADAMK I)K LOXGGEVILLE. 
 
 son of great mind, who treated the greatest men as 
 their equal. Retz 1 and Bossuet 2 affirm this, and I 
 believe them, for in this matter they were better 
 judges than I. Read, however, some of the manu 
 script letters of the Palatine. They are not, cer 
 tainly, deficient in respect to solidity, finesse, and 
 ingenuity ; but I am forced to admit that they are 
 often full of inaccuracies, that their* construction is 
 very awkward, and that the most common rules of 
 orthography are sometimes outrageously violated. 
 I do not conclude from this that the Palatine had 
 not a mind of the first order, but simply that she 
 had not been taught the art of writing properly 
 her sentiments and thoughts. In this Madame de 
 Longueville was no better skilled. Thus, all that 
 we shall publish from her pen exhibits at once 
 the beauty of her genius and the defects of her ed 
 ucation. 
 
 With these women who write so well and so badly, 
 we may contrast Madame de Sevigne and Madame 
 de La Fayette, who always write well. To be just, 
 however, it seems to me that we should take into 
 consideration two very important things. 
 
 In the first place, these two ladies had received an 
 
 1 Memoirs, vol. i., p. 221 : "I do not believe that Queen Elizabeth of 
 England had more capacity for State affairs." 
 a Oraisonfunebra de la Princease Pdlatme. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 education altogether different from that given to 
 Madame "de Longueville ; they had been under the 
 tuition of skilful masters of language and of literature, 
 among whom was one of the most learned men of 
 the seventeenth century, who at the same time made 
 the greatest pretensions to wit, gentility, and gal 
 lantry. Menage had, during their youth and even 
 after their marriage, taught Mademoiselle de Rabutin, 
 and afterwards Madame de Lavergne, not only the 
 French language as it was spoken and written by the 
 Academy, but the language of the wits of the time, 
 the Italian, and even somewhat of the Latin ; he ex 
 cused them from the Greek alone. He exercised 
 them in writing, pointing out their errors, cultivating 
 their happy instincts, polishing and regulating their 
 mind and style. He retained them for a considera 
 ble time under this discipline, which was indeed 
 highly agreeable to himself. Their professor was 
 also their Platonic admirer, more Platonic than he 
 perhaps desired. He addressed to them stanzas, 
 sonnets, idyls, madrigals, and all sorts of verses in 
 French, in Italian, and in Latin. He celebrated by 
 turns the formosissima Laverna and the lellissima 
 Marchesa di Sevigni. 1 He certainly would not have 
 
 1 ^Egidii Menagii Pcemata, since the first edition, which is of 1652, 
 in-4, jEgidii Menagii Miscellanea, until the Elzeverian edition, more 
 complete, of 1663. In this there are more than twenty French, Latin, 
 
38 MADAME DE LONGDEVILLE. 
 
 taken the trouble to compose, in honor of their wit 
 and charms, Latin and Italian verses which they 
 mi^ht have been unable to comprehend. On the 
 contrary, both of them wrote very well in Italian. 1 
 In a manuscript correspondence of Madame de La 
 J- avi tte, lately in my possession, I have found more 
 than one allusion to the time when, thus to speak, she 
 pursued her studies under Menage. 2 Nature had 
 
 and Italian pieces to Madame de La Fayette before and after her mar 
 riage. Madame de Se vigne does not appear so often ; but, as an offset, 
 she is seen in the edition of 1652, both under her own name and under 
 that of Uranie. The study of the different editions of the poems of Me"- 
 nage would not be useless in a history of Madame de Se vigne and of 
 Madame de La Fayette. 
 
 1 See the Italian Sonnet of Madame de Sevigne, published by M. de 
 Montmerqu6. 
 
 3 This correspondence was sold at Sens, in 1849, at the sale of M. 
 Tarbe". I examined it for several hours. It is composed of about sev 
 enty-six letters, all unpublished, and runs over almost all the life of 
 Madame de La Fayette. We here find that Menage felt a passion for his 
 beautiful pupils. Repulsed and discouraged rather quickly by Marie 
 de Chantil, he turned to her relative, Mademoiselle de Lavergne, with 
 no better fortune, but without experiencing so much neglect. The in 
 tercourse of Menage with Mademoiselle de Lavergne continued even 
 after her marriage to the Count de La Fayette, became more intimate 
 during her widowhood, and continued even until her death. Madame 
 de La Fayette coquetted evidently with her Latin and Italian master, 
 and for some time their relations were intimate but not tender. Finally, 
 they became good and perfect friends. Several letters show with what 
 care Madame de La Fayette had studied under Menage the poets and 
 good writers, both ancient and modern. She consults him, and refers 
 to their disputes in regard to the use of such and such an expression. 
 She speaks continually of their common friend, Iluet, who wrote for 
 Zdide a dissertation on the origin of the romance. There are a few lines 
 about Segrais. I do not remember seeing the name of La Rochefou- 
 
INTKODUCTION. 39 
 
 done every thing for Madame de Sevigne : it had 
 li ivi-ii her perfect exactness and solidity, with inex 
 haustible playfulness and sparkling vivacity. Art 
 and genius united, made of her the incomparable 
 letter-writer who left Balzac and Yoiture a thousand 
 leagues behind, and whom Voltaire himself has not 
 surpassed. Like a mad and ignorant person, she ap 
 pears to defy every thing ; but in her boldest strokes 
 she never miscalculates, which is an infallible sign of 
 a finished art. Observe again, that if Madame de 
 Sevigne wrote well, it was because she knew that her 
 letters would be shown ; but of this she does not be 
 tray the least suspicion : it is true that she wrote 
 nothing but letters ; I even doubt whether she could 
 have written a book, and I could not imagine her 
 engaged upon a romance, or upon any work what 
 ever, except, perhaps, memoirs and satires, like those 
 of her Cousin Bussy or Saint-Simon, or perhaps upon 
 theological treatises like those of her daughter, 
 
 cauld once mentioned. This was pejrhaps a delicate subject, upon which, 
 the beautiful lady did not consult her learned friends. What existed 
 between the duke and the countess did not concern the Abbe Huet 
 and the Abbe Menage. It was only to the Marchioness de Sevigne, or 
 to the Marchioness de Sable, that she would speak on such a matter. 
 Besides, in this collection, we have only the letters or rather notes of 
 Madame de La Fayette ; not one of Menage. Most of them are auto 
 graphs, some dictated and signed, all perfectly authentic. M. Tarbe 
 made a copy of this correspondence, which was sold with the auto 
 graphs. It belongs now to M. Feuillet. 
 
40 MADAME DE LOXGUEVILLE. 
 
 Madame de Grignan. 1 This was not the case with 
 Madame de La Fayette. She was not only a person 
 of great wit and information, but she was also an 
 author. It is not surprising that she knew how to 
 write, since she made a profession of it. An exquisite 
 polish is her prominent characteristic, and it may be 
 in part referred to the literary discipline which she 
 preserved much longer than her friend ; it may also 
 be accounted for by the fact that she never wrote a 
 word without submitting it to that same Menage, 
 to Sagrais, who resided with her, and who, if he 
 did not lend her his pen, aided her with his coun 
 sels and his name, to Huet, or to La Rochefou 
 cauld. Madame de La Fayette is certainly far 
 superior to Madame de La Suze, to Madame de 
 Bregy, to Madame Deshoulieres, to Mademoiselle 
 de Scudery, to Madame d Aulnoy, to Madame Lam 
 bert, but she belongs to their family. Although 
 she passed her life with Madame de Sevigne, she 
 differs from her essentially, and she belongs, too, 
 to a very different world from that of Madame de 
 Longueville. 
 
 But it is important to remember that Madame de 
 Longueville preceded, by several years, the two il- 
 
 1 See the dissertation of Madame de Grignan on the Pure Love of 
 Fi nelon, in vol. x. of the works of Madame de Sevigne", p. 518, edition 
 Montraerqiu . 
 
INTRODUCTION. 41 
 
 lustrious friends, and that, early separated from the 
 world, and buried in retirement during the last twen 
 ty-five years of her life, she was unable to profit by 
 the then rapid progress of language and taste. There 
 are in fact two very different parties in the literature 
 of the seventeenth century : that of Louis XIII. and 
 of the Eegency, represented by Corneille and Pascal ; 
 and that which is particularly the work of Louis 
 XI Y., of which Kacine and Fenelon are the most 
 accomplished expression. In one we find a grandeur 
 somewhat uncouth ; in the other a charming art, 
 sometimes felt too sensibly. In the style as well as 
 in the conversation of the women of the seventeenth 
 century, we observe prolixity, carelessness, and even 
 incorrectness, for the language which they write or 
 speak is not settled. They are neither able to choose 
 between their thoughts, nor to give them that happy 
 turn, that precision and elegance which, thanks to the 
 superabundance of genius, became so common at the 
 close of the century. But their attainment to all 
 great things, political and religious, worldly ambi 
 tion and holy penitence, gave their minds a much 
 harder tempering than that possessed by the women 
 who came after the Fronde, and who, with all France, 
 were stamped with the taste of Louis XIV . Madame 
 de Sevigne, born and formed in the first epoch, be 
 came fully developed in the second. Her heart is 
 4* 
 
42 M.\D\Mi: us: i,< >.\<,ri.viLLE. 
 
 ilic lii>t, her genius springs from it; the second 
 her its polisli without depriving her of its viir<r 
 ;m<l its original fervor. 1 Madame de Longneville 
 in full splendor under the Fronde; ai tcrwanls 
 she lived among the Cami elites and at Port-Koyal ; 
 the cultivation of her taste ceased about the year 
 1650. Let us not then demand in her qualities which 
 nhe cannot possess. Let us recognize in her a 
 mind of the first rank, but still the mind of a wo 
 man of a great lady, of a very indolent princess, 
 who has not made the least improvement of her tal 
 ents, and who shows equally her merits and defects, 
 which are also the merits and defects of the times in 
 which she lived, namely, an uncultivated grandeur, 
 a refined delicacy, with a perpetual negligence. 
 
 1 Wo shall often return in this work, for example, 1st Part, chap, 
 ii., to this difference between the literature of Louis XIII. and that 
 of Louis XIV. We have elsewhere said, Fourth Series, vol. ii., of tho 
 illustrious women of tho seventeenth century, p. 18: "Lotus go on 
 and examine tho ago of Louis XIV. An end has come to tho manly 
 vigor of tho times of llichclicu ; tho freedom of tho Frondo has ceased ; 
 Louis XIV. has made politeness and dignity, tempered by good tasto, 
 tho order of tho day. Fortunate are tho minds which liavo boon 
 formed in tho strength and liberty of tho preceding age, which receive 
 tin- jxilish of tho new epoch! This was tho privilege of Madame do 
 i , as well as of Moliero and ofBossuot." 
 
I.NTUOI.MTION. 43 
 
 III. 
 
 If the mind of Madame do Lonirneyille displays 
 the woman, her soul especially is in the highest de 
 gree feminine, and, far from accusing, I desire 1<> 
 praise her for it. Yes, Madame de Lon<;-iie\ ille he- 
 longs to her own sex ; she possesses its adorable qual 
 ities and its well-known imperfections. In a world 
 in which gallantry was the order of the day, lliis 
 young and ravishing creature, married to a man al 
 ready old and even otherwise connected, followed the 
 nniyersal example. Naturally tender, the senses, 
 according to her own most humble confession, had 
 no part in the affairs of her heart ; but, overwhelmed 
 with homage, she yielded to it. Amiable, she made, 
 her happiness in being loved. The sister of the, ^real. 
 ( mule, she was not insensible to the idea of playing 
 a conspicuous part; but far from pretending in rule, 
 she was so much the woman, that she permitted her 
 self to be governed and guided by him whom she 
 loved. While around her, interest and amhilion so 
 often took the colors of love, she listened to her hear!, 
 alone, and devoted herself to the amhilion and inter 
 est of another. All authors are unanimous in this 
 particular. Her enemies reproach her with severity 
 for not having a proper aim, and for having de 
 spised her own interests. They do not suspect that 
 
44 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 in the expectation of overwhelming her, they elevate 
 her ; and even they themselves take care to conceal 
 her conduct and her faults, which, after all, may be 
 reduced to a single one. 
 
 She could even be touched by the devotion of Co- 
 ligny, who shed his blood to avenge her of the out 
 rage of Madame de Montbazon; 1 for a moment she 
 listened 2 heedlessly to the gallantries of the brave 
 and intellectual Moissons, afterwards Marshal d Al- 
 bret ; still later she compromised herself somewhat 
 with the Duke de Nemours; but the only person 
 that she loved truly was La Rochefoucauld. She 
 devoted herself to him entirely ; she sacrificed every 
 thing to him ; her duty, her interests, her repose, her 
 reputation. For him she staked her fortune and her 
 life. She exhibited the most equivocal and the most 
 contrary conduct. It was La Rochefoucauld, who 
 caused her to take part in the Fronde, who, accord 
 ing to his liking, made her advance or recede, who 
 united her to, or separated her from, her family, who 
 governed her absolutely. In a word, she consented 
 to be in his hand a mere heroic instrument. Pride and 
 passion had doubtless something to do with this life 
 of adventure and this contempt of peril. But of what 
 stamp must have been the soul that could find consola- 
 
 i Part i., chap. iii. Ibid., chap. iv. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 45 
 
 tion in this ! And, as often happens, the man to whom 
 she devoted herself was not wholly worthy of her. 
 He had infinite spirit ; but he was profoundly selfish, 
 meanly ambitions ; he measured others by himself ; 
 he was as subtile in evil as she was in good ; he was 
 full of refinement in his self-love, and in the pursuit 
 of his own interest; in reality, the least chivalrous 
 of men, although he affected all the appearance of 
 the highest chivalry. So, as soon as he believes that 
 Madame de Longueville has left him for a moment, 
 and listened too long to the Duke de Nemours, he 
 returns against her, and pursues her with the most 
 pitiful resentment. He blackens her character in 
 the eyes of her brother ; he reveals the weaknesses 
 of which he himself has taken advantage ; and when 
 she is devoted to the task of repairing the errors of 
 her life, when she is expiating them by the severest 
 penitence, he seeks, by publications in a foreign land, 
 which he dares not own, 1 to blast her name, just as 
 at a later period he will cause Madame de Sable to 
 print to his glory newspaper articles, which his own 
 hand will correct, and carefully relieve of the little 
 criticisms, inserted for the purpose of adding weight 
 
 1 No one has been duped by the disavowal which he made, for po 
 litical purposes, of the passages of these memoirs which concern Conde 
 and his sister ; for they are the very ones which most betray his hand. 
 They shocked the public conscience, whose interpreter is Madame de 
 Motteville, vol. v., pp. 114, 115, and 132. 
 
46 MADAME DE LONGUEV1LLK. 
 
 to the praise -, 1 so that the poor woman on returning 
 from the Carmelites or from Port-Royal was forced 
 to encounter in the few salons which she still en 
 tered, the history of her amours and the narrative of 
 her errors penned by the hand of him who should 
 have died in her defence, even, if necessary, against 
 the truth. On the breaking up of the Fronde, La 
 Rochefoucauld managed his affairs so well as to re 
 tain a good position with the court ; he entered the 
 carriage of Mazarin, uttering those famous words: 
 " Every thing happens in France ;" he solicited and 
 obtained great favors for his son ; he sought for him 
 self the situation of governor of the Dauphin, which 
 was given to Montausier ; he knew how to surround 
 himself with amiable women, who bestowed upon 
 him their admiration and their little cares, and one 
 of whom, Madame de La Fayette, consecrated to him 
 her life, and took the place of Madame de Longue- 
 ville. How different the conduct of Anne de Bour 
 bon ! Love had drawn her into the Fronde, love had 
 there retained her ; when love no longer exists, she 
 knows not where she is. The proud heroine, who, to 
 war upon Mazarin, had sold her jewels, pledged her 
 fortune, risked her life in a frail bark upon the sea, 
 aroused the South, and held in check the royal power, 
 as soon as she finds that her exertions must avail 
 
 See Part iii. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 47 
 
 herself alone, withdraws into obscurity, and, at the 
 age of thirty-five years, in all her beauty, plunges 
 into solitude to grieve, like Mademoiselle de La Val- 
 liere, over the errors of her past life. Ah ! doubt 
 less it would have been better to struggle against the 
 heart, and by force of courage and vigilance to fly 
 all weakness. We bow the knee before those who 
 have never transgressed ; but when, with Mademoi 
 selle de La Valliere, or with Madame de Longueville, 
 one would compare Madame de Maintenon, with the 
 endless calculations of her worldly prudence, and the 
 tardy scruples of her piety, which ever come to the 
 aid of her fortune, we protest with all our soul. We 
 speak boldly in behalf of the sister Louise de la Mi- 
 sericorde, and for the penitent of M. Singlin and of 
 M. Marcel. We prefer a thousand times the oppro 
 brium with which they sought in vain to cover them 
 selves, to the vain consideration which, in a degen 
 erate court, surrounded Madame Scarron, who became 
 privately the wife of Louis XIY. Two things only 
 move us virtue and true passion : the one is above 
 all things else, and can be recompensed worthily by 
 God alone ; the other should not be too much cele 
 brated ; but it has its excuse in the grandeur of its 
 disinterested transports, in its sacrifices, in its suffer 
 ings, and, above all, in its expiations. 
 
 Let ITS endeavor to comprehend Madame de 
 
4:8 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Longueville. She was not a politician like the Pala 
 tine ; she had no true business tact. It is folly to 
 accuse her of not having consistency and personal char 
 acter. Her true character and the unity of her life 
 should be sought where they are in her devotion to 
 him whom she loved. It is there wholly and always 
 the same, at once consistent and absurd, and touching 
 even in her follies. 
 
 I attribute all her disorderly movements to the un 
 easy and fickle spirit of La Rochefoucauld. He it is 
 who is ambitious ; he it is who is full of intrigues ; 
 he it is who wanders at random here and there, ac 
 cording to circumstances, solely occupied with his 
 own interests, and without any other great merit than 
 a mind fertile in expedients of every kind, and a 
 dashing courage, without military talents. And I 
 attribute to Madame de Longueville to the blood 
 of the Condes, to that great heart which she ever ex 
 hibited I attribute to her boldness in danger, a cer 
 tain secret contentment in the excess of misfortune, 
 and after reverses a pride before the victors which 
 yields not to that of the Cardinal de Retz. Madame 
 de Longueville, therefore, did not cast down her 
 eyes ; she lifted them to a more worthy object. 
 Stripped of what was her all, she bid adieu to the 
 world, and, making no apology to the court, went to 
 ask pardon of God alone. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 49 
 
 This considered, all the criticisms which have been 
 lavished upon Madame de Longueville, result in her 
 favor. 
 
 La Rochefoucauld, after having eulogized Madame 
 de Longueville in the words which we have quoted, 
 adds : " But these fine qualities were rendered less 
 brilliant by a stain which was never seen upon a 
 princess of such merit, which found no imitations on 
 those who entertained for her a particular adoration ; 
 a stain which so transformed her in their sentiments 
 that she did not recognize her own. At this time the 
 Prince de Marcillac shared her mind, and as he 
 joined his ambition to his love, he inspired her with 
 a desire for business to which she had a natural aver 
 sion." This stain, with which La Rochefoucauld here 
 reproaches her, is precisely her glory the affection 
 of a loving and devoted woman. 
 
 The future author of the Maximes has no difficulty 
 in confessing that he was attached to her as much 
 from interest as from affection. After such a delara- 
 tion, we cannot admit the chivalrous exclamation : 
 
 That I might win her heart, be pleasant in her eyes, 
 
 War I ve waged with kings, I would have storm d the skies. 
 
 No, it was not to please her that you entered the 
 Fronde ; it was a passion for movement and intrigue 
 that prompted you. to take part in it. You. know 
 that she had a natural aversion to business, and that 
 
 5 
 
50 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 contrary to her taste and her manifest interests, she 
 entered into it for your sake alone. 
 
 "La Rochefoucauld relates, in the new part of his 
 Memoires, how and with what intentions he became 
 connected with Madame de Longueville. He was 
 striving to revenge himself of the queen and of Maza- 
 rin ; to accomplish this he had need of the Prince de 
 Conde, and he sought to secure the brother by means 
 of the sister. But let us permit him to speak for him 
 self : "So much unprofitable labor and so much 
 weariness, finally gave me other thoughts, and made 
 me attempt dangerous ways in order to show my re 
 sentment to the queen and the Cardinal Mazarin. 
 The beauty of Madame de Longueville, her wit and 
 the charms of her person attached to her all who 
 could hope for her favor. Many men and w r omen of 
 quality sought to please her ; and in addition to the 
 charms of this court, Madame de Longueville was 
 upon such good terms with all her house, and so ten 
 derly beloved by the Duke d Enghien, her brother, 
 that the esteem and friendship of this prince could 
 be safely counted upon by any one fortunate enough 
 to secure the approval of his sister. Many people 
 uselessly attempted this game, mingling other senti 
 ments with those of ambition. Miossens, who after 
 wards became marshal of France, persisted longest, 
 and with similar success. I was one of his particular 
 
 
INTRODUCTION. 51 
 
 friends, and lie informed me of his designs. They 
 were soon destroyed of themselves. He knew it, and 
 told me several times that he had resolved to renounce 
 them ; but vanity, which was the strongest of his 
 passions, prevented him often from telling me the 
 truth, and he dissembled hopes which he had not, 
 and which I knew he ought not to have entertained. 
 Some time passed in this way, and finally I had rea 
 son to believe that I could make a more considerable 
 use than Miossens of the friendship and confidence of 
 Madame de Longueville. I convinced him of this. 
 He knew my position at court. I told him my views, 
 stating that consideration for him would always re 
 strain me, and that I should not seek to form a con 
 nection with Madame de Longueville without his 
 permission. I confess that to obtain this, I purposely 
 excited him against her ; not, however, by uttering 
 any thing untrue. His full consent was finally ob 
 tained ; but he repented of having given it to me 
 when he saw the result of this connection." 
 
 The declared enemy of Madame de Longueville 
 was her daughter-in-law, Madame de Nemours, 
 whose character was entirely the opposite of her own. 
 She was judicious but severe. She was quite nat 
 urally on the side of M. de Longueville, her, father, 
 whom she endeavored to withdraw from the influence 
 of his wife. In her Memoires she recognizes the 
 
52 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 perfect disinterestedness of Madame de Longueville, 
 her sincere attachment to her brother, and her want 
 of taste for politics : " It is certainly astonishing 1 that 
 Madame de Longueville should have been one of the 
 first (to take part in the Fronde), she who had noth 
 ing to hope from this party, and who had no reason 
 to complain of the court. . . . The prince entertained 
 an extreme tenderness for his sister. She, on her side, 
 managed him less from interest than for the particular 
 esteem and tender friendship which she felt for him. 
 . . . Madame de Longueville knew very little about 
 politics." At the same time she accuses her of 
 being fond of show, of having no weighty motive for 
 her conduct, of having sacrificed fortune and repose 
 to a false glory, and all under the influence of La 
 Eochefoucauld. " It was," said she, " M. de La 
 Rochefoucauld who inspired this princess with so 
 many foolish and false sentiments. As he had a 
 very great power over her, and as, besides, he 
 thought only of himself, he engaged her in all the 
 intrigues with which she was connected, only to pro 
 mote his own selfish designs. . . Marcillac, who 
 ruled her absolutely, and who wished that others 
 should have no credit with her, or even to appear to 
 have any, alienated her from the deputy, who would 
 
 1 Memaires, edit, of Amsterdam, 1783, p. 12. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 53 
 
 not have been sorry to rule her also. . . Marcillac, 
 to promote his own interest, showed Madame de 
 Longueville. . . As soon as Marcillac, who urged on 
 Madame de Longueville only to procure sooner what 
 had been promised to him by the court, had obtained 
 what he desired, he thought no more of the interests 
 of others ; he found in his own all that he sought. 
 He even persuaded Madame de Longueville that she 
 herself was little thought of." 
 
 Retz confirms the insinuations of Madame de Ne 
 mours concerning himself, and takes good care to 
 explain her pretensions, and even her expectations. 
 He thus concludes the portrait which he has traced 
 of Madame de Longueville : " She would have had 
 few defects had it not been for gallantry. As her 
 passion compelled her to make politics a secondary 
 matter, instead of the heroine of a great party, she 
 became its adventurer." 
 
 To justify the sentiments of Madame de Longue 
 ville, we might have limited ourselves to quoting two 
 decisive passages from the most impartial witness of 
 the things and persons of this period, Madame de 
 Motteville i 1 " In attaching himself politically to the 
 prince, Marcillac devoted himself to Madame de 
 Longueville in a manner somewhat more tender, uni- 
 
 1 Memoires, vol. ii., p. 15. 
 
 5* 
 
54: MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 ting the sentiments of the heart to the consideration 
 of grandeur and fortune. It was quite apparent to 
 the whole court that this princess treated him with 
 great attention. In all that she afterwards did, it 
 was clearly seen that her mind was not solely occu 
 pied with ambition, but that the interests of the Prince 
 de Marcillac filled a prominent place therein. For 
 him she became ambitious ; for him she ceased to 
 love repose, and, in order to be sensible to this affec 
 tion, she became too insensible to her own glory. . . . 
 The wishes of the Prince de Marcillac, as I have 
 said, were not displeasing to her ; and this nobleman, 
 who was perhaps more selfish than tender, anxious to 
 benefit himself through her, thought it his duty to 
 inspire her with the desire of ruling the princes her 
 brothers." 
 
 Let us crown all these quotations with one from 
 Guy- Joly : " The Prince de Marcillac managed her 
 with care, judging that she would have particular 
 consideration in the party, by reason of the ascen 
 dency which she had over the Princes de Oonde and 
 de Longueville, and that, being in her good graces, 
 it would be easy for him to obtain great advantage 
 whenever it might be necessary for him to treat with 
 the court." 1 
 
 1 Memoirs de Guy-My, collection Michaud, 8d Series, vol. ii., p. 15. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 55 
 
 Thus, by the admission of every one, La Rochefou 
 cauld pursued in the Fronde his own interest alone, 
 and Madame de Longueville pursued only the inter 
 est of La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 But we must not stop here ; we must establish, by 
 undoubted facts, and present clearly the point of view 
 which we have just indicated. La Rochefoucauld 
 himself, closely interrogated, testifies that, far from 
 having been drawn into the Fronde by Madame de 
 Longueville, as some have been pleased to represent, 
 it was he himself who drew her in, and he himself 
 who directed all her movements. 
 
 It is he himself who informs us of the motive 
 which prompted him to the connection which he 
 formed with Madame de Longueville at the close of 
 1647, or at the beginning of 1648. He continued 
 wonderfully faithful to the plan which he had pro 
 posed to himself. 
 
 1st. At the close of 1647, La Rochefoucauld was 
 irritated because he could not obtain from the cardi 
 nal either the place of Governor of Havre or that 
 of a colonel of cavalry. He succeeded in turning 
 Madame de Longueville against Mazarin, by making 
 her believe that Conde had not received all that was 
 due to him. " Madame de Longueville, whose entire 
 confidence I possessed, felt as keenly as I could de 
 sire the conduct of the cardinal towards the Duke 
 
56 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 d Enghien." 1 In 1648, before embracing the party 
 of the Fronde, La Rochefoucauld tried for the last 
 time to gain Mazarin, and demanded " for his house 
 the same advantages which had been accorded to 
 those of Rohan, of La Tremouille, and some others." 
 " I found myself," said he, 2 " so removed from favor 
 that I stopped here. I spoke of it to the cardinal in 
 leaving him. He promised positively to grant my 
 request in a short time. On my return I should have 
 received the title of duke in order that my wife 
 might have the privilege of sitting in the presence of 
 the king. I went to Poitou with this expectation, 
 and there I quelled the disorders (the first move 
 ments of the Fronde); but I saw that the cardinal, 
 far from keeping his promise, had granted dukes 
 patents to six persons of quality, without remember 
 ing me." And then he engaged in the sedition. 
 Madame de Longueville, following the instructions 
 which he had given to her, had commenced laying 
 snares for the deputy and the parliament, had over 
 come Conti, gained her husband, and circumvented 
 Conde ; but she held so loosely the reins of this in 
 trigue, that she wrote to La Rochefoucauld, submit 
 ting to him her own proceedings, and begging him 
 to come and decide what should be done. The pas- 
 
 Petitot, vol. li., p. 896. > Ibid., p. 898, 899. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 57 
 
 sage from La Rochefoucauld on this subject is very 
 curious, and deserves to be quoted. 1 "I was in the 
 first transports which a treatment so extraordinary 
 mi glit be expected to produce, when I learned from 
 Madame de Longueville that the whole plan of the 
 civil war had been resolved upon at Noisy between 
 the Prince de Conti, the Duke de Longueville, the 
 Deputy of Paris, and the most prominent members 
 of the parliament. She informed me that there was 
 hope of gaining the Prince de Conde ; that she did 
 not know precisely what to do at this juncture, being 
 ignorant of my sentiments, and she besought me to 
 come by diligence to Paris, that we might decide to 
 gether whether she ought to push or delay this pro 
 ject. This news consoled me in my chagrin, and I 
 felt myself able to convince the queen and the cardi 
 nal that it would have been well for them to humor 
 me. I asked leave of absence ; I had difficulty in 
 obtaining it ; and it was granted only on condition 
 that I would not complain of the treatment which I 
 had received, and that I would not insist upon my 
 pretensions. It was easy to promise all this, and I 
 arrived in Paris full of the resentment which I had a 
 right to feel. I there found things precisely in the 
 condition described by Madame de Longueville ; but 
 
 1 Petitot, vol. li., pp. 898, 399. 
 
58 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 I found less excitement, either because the first steps 
 had been taken, or because the diversity of interests 
 and grandeur of the design had diminished the ardor 
 of those who had undertaken it. Madame de Longue- 
 ville herself had purposely raised difficulties, in order 
 that I might have time to make my appearance, and 
 to render myself competent to decide. I did not 
 hesitate to do it, and I felt great pleasure in knowing 
 that, to whatever extremity the severity of the queen 
 and the hatred of the cardinal might reduce me, I 
 had still the means to be revenged." 
 
 2. Thus engaged in the Fronde, Madame de 
 Longueville appeared to become entirely reckless. 
 She delivered the Prince de Conti into the hands of 
 La Rochefoucauld ; she conspired to lead away M. 
 de Longueville ; she deceived her mother by refus 
 ing to accompany her to court, under pretence of 
 sickness ; she went so far as to commit herself, not 
 withstanding her approaching confinement, to the 
 hands of the people at the Hotel de Yille. She did 
 more : for the sake of La Rochefoucauld, she became 
 embroiled with her brother Conde. for whom she en 
 tertained the greatest affection ; she strove to draw 
 him into the Fronde; he became angry with her; 
 hence that rupture so astonishing after such tender 
 friendship, and those outbursts of wrath now so 
 easily accounted for. " The Prince de Conti . . was 
 
INTRODUCTION. 59 
 
 weak and fickle; he depended entirely upon Ma 
 dame de Longueville, and she left to me the care of 
 guiding him. 1 The Duke de Longueville possessed 
 mind and experience ; he entered easily into the 
 parties opposed to the court, and left them still more 
 easily. . . . He was continually raising obstacles, 
 and repenting of his engagements in it. I was 
 afraid that he might do more, and discover to the 
 prince what he knew of the enterprise. "With this 
 apprehension, I sent Gourville to Paris to notify 
 Madame de Longueville and the deputy of the sus 
 picion which there was reason for entertaining of 
 the Duke de Longueville. . . . The Marquis de 
 RToirmontiers and myself were constrained to tell 
 him that we were going to carry away the Pnnce de 
 Conti, and that we would declare to the world that 
 he alone had shown a want of fidelity to his friends, 
 after engaging them in an undertaking which he 
 abandoned. He could not bear these reproaches, 
 and suffered himself to be led as we desired. . . . 
 The king, followed by the queen, the Duke d Orleans, 
 and the prince, set out secretly from Paris at mid 
 night, near the close of the year 1649, and went to 
 Saint-Germain. All the court followed in great dis 
 order. The princess wished to carry along Madame 
 
 i Petitot, vol. li., p. 899, etc. 
 
60 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 de Longueville, who was on the point of being con 
 fined ; but she feigned illness, and remained at Paris. 
 . . . The Prince de Conti and Madame de Longue 
 ville, in order to give more confidence, lodged in 
 the Hotel de Yille, and committed themselves en 
 tirely into the hands of the people." ... In another 
 place he says : l " Madame de Longueville was again 
 obliged to reside at the Hotel de Ville as a pledge of 
 the fidelity of her brother and husband to the people, 
 who are naturally suspicious of the great, because 
 they are ordinarily the victims of their evil doings. 
 . . . The Prince de Conde 2 . . . had taken measures 
 with the court. The connection which I had with 
 the Prince de Conti and Madame de Longueville 
 was not agreeable to him. . . . The cardinal was pre 
 paring to quit the kingdom ; but the prince soon re 
 assured him ; and the bitterness which he exhibited 
 towards the Prince de Conti, towards Madame de 
 Longueville and myself, was so great, that the car 
 dinal could not doubt that it was genuine." 
 
 3. At the end of this first Parisian war, in 1649, 
 the Prince de Conde became reconciled with his 
 family, and even with La Rochefoucauld. The latter 
 was included in the treaty which was consummated ; 
 he obtained for his house " the same advantages of 
 
 J Petitot, vol. li., p. 462. Ibid., p. 401. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 61 
 
 rank that had been accorded to those of Bohan, of 
 Foix, and of Luxembourg." Such is the declaration 
 of La Kochefoucauld -, 1 but the truth is, that it was 
 Madame de Longueville who claimed for him these 
 advantages, and who labored energetically in his in 
 terests. So Madame de Mottville asserts : " Madame 
 de Longueville 2 omitted nothing in her efforts to 
 secure the favor of the court for the Prince de Mar- 
 cillac. ... To satisfy 3 her fully it was necessary to 
 promote the Prince de Marcillac, and in this con 
 juncture she procured for his wife the right of sitting 
 in the royal presence, and of entering the Louvre in 
 her carriage. These advantages placed him above 
 dukes, and upon an equality with princes, though he 
 was neither the one nor the other : he was not a 
 member of the royal family." Madame de Nemours 
 goes still farther : 4 " Madame de Longueville inter 
 fered in this settlement, and it is even pretended that 
 M. de Marcillac received some money." What a 
 part in all this affair was that of La Rochefoucauld ! 
 Madame de Longueville is at least disinterested. She 
 at the same time suffers herself to be eclipsed and to 
 be compromised, anxious only to serve and to please. 
 4. In 1650, Mazarin thinking that he ought to re- 
 
 1 Petitot, vol. Hi., p. 9. * Vol. iii., p. 295. Ibid., p. 393. 
 4 Mtmoirea, p. 47. 
 
02 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 voke the favors which Madame de Longueville had 
 obtained for La Rochefoucauld, all minds became 
 exasperated : troubles recommenced ; the princes were 
 put in prison ; the arrest of Madame de Longueville 
 was contemplated, and an order was issued directing 
 her to appear before the Queen at the Palais-Royal. 
 " Instead 1 of obeying, she resolved, by the advice of 
 the Prince de Marcillac, to set out at once, with all 
 speed, for Normandy, for the purpose of engaging that 
 province, and the parliament of Rouen, on the side of 
 the princes, and of securing in her friendship the fort 
 resses of the Duke de Longueville and of Havre-de- 
 Grace. . . . The Prince de Marcillac accompanied her 
 in this journey." I ask, which of the two drew the 
 other into this second war, much more serious than 
 the first ? But I hasten to say that on this occasion 
 both conducted themselves equally well. While 
 Madame de Longueville was pledging her jewels in 
 Holland for her defence at Stenay, La Rochefoucauld 
 was also exposing his fortunes in Guyenne. It was 
 the saddest and the most touching moment in the 
 history of their loves and their adventures. They 
 were separated from one another, but still they loved ; 
 they served with ardor the same cause ; they strug 
 gled and they suffered together. 
 
 1 Memoires de La Rochefoucauld, Petitot, vol. lii., p. 24. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 63 
 
 5. In 1651, after the deliverance of the princes, 
 La Rochefoucauld grew weary of war, into which 
 he seems to have engaged only to please Madame 
 de Longueville. " The Duke de La Rochefoucauld 1 
 could not testify so openly his repugnance to this 
 war ; he was obliged to consult the feelings of Ma 
 dame de Longueville, and all that he could then do 
 was to try to make her desire peace." What then 
 were the feelings of Madame de Longueville ? Did 
 she wish to continue the war for the sake of playing 
 a conspicuous part, and with a view to gratify that 
 ambition of glory with which she has been so often 
 reproached? By no means. Her thoughts were 
 much more humble. Still attached to La Rochefou 
 cauld, she contemplated with pain a peace * which 
 threatened to separate them. Madame de Longue 
 ville 2 knew that the deputy had embroiled her irrev 
 ocably with her husband, and that after the impres 
 sions made upon him as to her conduct, she could 
 not return to him in Normandy without at least haz 
 arding her liberty. The Duke de Longueville, how 
 ever, wished to keep her near him, and she had no 
 pretext for avoiding this dangerous journey, except 
 the desire of instigating her brother to carry on a 
 civil war. "At the same time La Rochefoucauld 
 
 1 Memoires de La Rochefouc., Petitot, vol. lii., p. 72. 3 Ibid., p. 71. 
 
64 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 informs us that he persuaded her to avoid such a re 
 sponsibility, to retire to Montrond with the Princess 
 de Conde, and to allow matters to unravel themselves. 
 He 1 showed Madame de Longueville that her re 
 moval from Paris alone could satisfy her husband, 
 and prevent him from making the journey which she 
 dreaded; that the prince might easily grow weary 
 of the protection which he had until then afforded 
 her, having a pretext so specious as that of recon 
 ciling a woman with her husband, and especially if 
 he thought that he might thereby attach to himself 
 the Duke de Longueville ; besides, that she alone 
 would be accused of fomenting disorder; that she 
 would be, in various ways, held responsible both to 
 her brother and to the world, for kindling in the 
 kingdom a war whose results might be grievous to 
 her house and to the State .... In fine, to avoid so 
 many difficulties, he advised her to ask the prince to 
 permit the princess, the Duke d Enghien, and her 
 self to retire to Montrond, in order that he might not 
 be embarrassed in a precipitate march if he found 
 himself obliged to depart, and in order that he might 
 have no scruple in deciding either to fire the king 
 dom by a civil war, or to risk his life, his liberty, and 
 his fortune, upon the doubtful faith of Cardinal Maz- 
 
 1 M^moires de La Kochefoucauld, Petitot, vol. Hi., pp. 79, 80. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 65 
 
 arin. This advice met the approbation of Madame 
 de Longueville, and the prince soon after consented 
 to have it followed. 
 
 Madame de Longueville, in this instance, as in all 
 the others, did not then lead away La Rochefoucauld ; 
 she permitted herself to be guided by him ; she 
 obeyed his counsels, which to her were laws. 
 
 Here again is the true and perfect unity of her 
 conduct : Madame de Longueville pursues the course 
 marked out for her by another, with an indefatigable 
 constancy, amid all intrigues and dangers, and, as it 
 were, with her eyes shut to the motives which actu 
 ate La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 Her blindness is for a long time complete ; but, as 
 she united great shrewdness to great passion, after 
 they had been long separated, and when she was no 
 longer under the charm or under the yoke of his 
 presence, her eyes became partly opened ; and in the 
 voyage from Guyenne, having encountered the Duke 
 de Nemours, who showed every appearance of per 
 fect chivalry, and who was then said to be very atten 
 tive to Madame de Chatillon, absence, the void already 
 in her heart, the innate love of pleasing, the desire of 
 showing the power of her charms, and of troubling 
 somewhat a rival who wished at the same time to re 
 tain both Nemours and Conde, in short, the feeling 
 of liberty inspired by a voyage rendered her more 
 
 6* 
 
66 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 open than she should have been to the addresses of 
 the young and handsome cavalier. There is no proof 
 that she was beyond temptation. 1 Scarcely had he 
 returned to Paris when M. de Nemours forgot her, 
 submitted to the chains of Madame de Chatillon, 
 who triumphed, with her accustomed perfidy, over 
 the sacrifice wnich had been made to her. Justly 
 wounded, La Rochefoucauld falls out with her for 
 ever. It is said 2 that he seized with joy this occa 
 sion &r separating himself from her, as he had long 
 desired it. Let this be so ; he might have stopped 
 there ; it was unnecessary to calumniate her in the 
 mind of Conde, to impute to her the base design of 
 having wished to ruin the party and betray her 
 brother in order to serve the interests of the Duke de 
 Nemours, 3 an absurd accusation, and one which her 
 whole conduct falsifies, and to paint her as a vulgar 
 creature, capable of going to the same extremities 
 for another, if that other so desired ; it was unneces- 
 
 i See Part ii. 
 
 3 Memoir es de Madame de Nemours, p. 150. 
 
 3 La Rochefoucauld, p. 198 of the edition of 1664: "The Prince de 
 Conde was warned of the design which she had to ruin his party, by 
 very extraordinary means, for the interest of Nemours, and feared, that 
 similarly prejudiced in behalf of another, she might go to the same ex 
 tremities if this one should so desire it." Wits warned, and by whom, 
 if not by La Rochefoucauld, who then enjoyed the entire confidence of 
 Conde ? La Rochefoucauld perceived so plainly the odiousness of this 
 passage, that he afterwards modified and softened it, as may be seen in 
 the editions of Renouard and Petitot. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 67 
 
 sary, as Madame de Motteville so well says, 1 " from 
 a lover to become an enemy, from an enemy an in- 
 grate," and to suffer himself through revenge to com 
 mit offences which went, as Madame de Motteville 
 again says, "beyond what a Christian owes to God, 
 and a man of honor to a lady." 
 
 Is it possible, in fact, that resentment, of which 
 wounded self-love was the occasion (for then La 
 Eochefoucauld loved Madame de Longueville very 
 feebly, if ever he loved 2 her truly), could have de 
 graded a man of honor like him so far as to make 
 him engage in the shameful plots of Madame de 
 Chatillon? Madame de Motteville exhibits, as if 
 with regret, the conduct of La Eochefoucauld in this 
 affair : 3 " Madame de Chatillon made use of the Duke 
 de La Rochefoucauld and of his passions. . . . M. de 
 La Rochefoucauld told me that jealousy and revenge 
 made him act carefully, and that he did all that she 
 desired." Now, what Madame de Chatillon desired, 
 
 1 Vol. v., pp. 114, 115. 
 
 2 Madame de Sevigne doubts it very much. Letter of October 7, 
 1676 : " I do not believe that he was ever in love." He says himself in 
 making his own portrait : " I who know whatever is delicate and strong 
 in the sentiments of love, if ever I happen to love, it will certainly be 
 in this manner. But in one of my make, I do not believe that this 
 knowledge which I possess ever passes from the mind to the heart." 
 Segrais, (Memoires, Anecdotes, edit, d Amsterdam, 1723, p. 113): 
 " M. de la Eochefoucauld said that he had never found love except m 
 romances ; as for him, he had never felt it." 
 
 8 Vol. v., p. 182. 
 
68 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 was to humiliate Madame de Longueville, to keep 
 Nemours for her pleasures, and Conde for her for 
 tune. La Rochefoucauld has in so small a degree 
 the sentiment of the good and the bad, of the honest 
 and the dishonest, that he relates what he has done 
 with a sort of satisfaction ; he appears to triumph in 
 an intrigue so skilfully planned. " Madame de Cha- 
 tillon 1 brought about a desire for peace by very 
 agreeable means. She believed that so great a good 
 ought to be the work of her beauty, and mingling 
 ambition with the design of making a new conquest, 
 she wished at the same time to triumph over the 
 heart of the prince, and to draw from the court all 
 the advantages of the negotiation. These were not 
 her only reasons for entertaining such thoughts: a 
 desire to gratify vanity and revenge actuated her as 
 much as any thing else. The emulation which 
 beauty and gallantly often produce among ladies, 
 had caused an extreme bitterness between Madame 
 de Longueville and Madame de Chatillon ; they had 
 long concealed their feelings, but they finally made 
 a full exhibition of them ; and Madame de Chatillon 
 did not content herself with compelling M. de Ne 
 mours to break off all commerce with Madame de 
 Longueville ; she wished, besides, to obtain the sole 
 
 Edit, of 1664, pp. 229-232; Petitot, pp. 156-158. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 69 
 
 disposal of the conduct and interests of the prince. 
 The Duke de JSTemours, who had a perfect under 
 standing with her, approved this design ; he thought 
 that, being able to regulate the conduct of Madame 
 de Chatillon towards the prince, she would inspire 
 him with such sentiments as he could wish to give 
 him, and that thus he would be able to dispose of 
 the prince by the power which he possessed over 
 Madame de Chatillon. The Duke de la Rochefou 
 cauld was much deeper than any one in the confi 
 dence of the prince, and was, at the same time, very 
 closely connected with the Duke de Nemours and 
 Madame de Chatillon. . . . He induced the prince 
 to engage with her and to give her, in her own right, 
 the lands of Merlou ; he disposed her also to humor 
 the prince and M. de Nemours, so that she might 
 preserve them both, and made M. de Nemours ap 
 prove this connection, and even appear not to sus 
 pect it, since he was to make his account in it and 
 make use of it for obtaining the principal part in 
 affairs. This machine being conducted and regulated 
 by the Duke de La Rochefoucauld, gave him almost 
 the entire disposition of all that composed it, and 
 thus these four persons therein equally finding their 
 advantage, it would have doubtless had the success 
 which they contemplated, had not fortune opposed 
 it." Let us finish this picture by a stroke which La 
 
70 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Rochefoucauld has forgotten, and which Mademoi 
 selle furnishes : " Madame de Chatillon, 1 MM. de 
 Nemours and de La Rochefoucauld, who expected 
 great advantages by a treaty, the first a hundred 
 thousand crowns, the other a government, and the 
 last a similar sum, thought only of making peace for 
 the prince." 
 
 Thus, in the end as well as in the midst and at 
 the beginning of his connection with Madame de 
 Longueville, the only motives of La Rochefoucauld 
 were interest and self-love. One day in his Maximes 
 he will thereunto reduce all human nature, inclosing 
 it within the precincts of his own person, and giving 
 as limits to the moral world those of his very small 
 experience as a frondeur and a courtier. 2 
 
 Truly we may smile to hear the author of the Me- 
 moires and the Maximes say in the portrait which he 
 has left us of himself: "Ambition does not move 
 me ... I have virtuous sentiments ... I can keep 
 a secret, and I have less difficulty than others in 
 keeping to myself what has been told me in confi 
 dence. ... I love my friends, and my love is of such 
 a nature that I would not hesitate to sacrifice my 
 
 1 Mimoires, vol. ii., p. 129. 
 
 2 Some time ago I expressed the same opinion in regard to La Roche 
 foucauld, and, as may be seen, I still hold it. See 1st series of my works, 
 vol. iv., p. 200 ; 4th series, vol. i., p. 51, and vol. ii., p. 8. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 71 
 
 interests to theirs." Segrais was hard to suit with 
 eulogy, or he had not read the above passages, when 
 he said that La Rochefoucauld never praised him 
 self. 1 Madame de Longueville would have recog 
 nized La Rochefoucauld by the following traits : " I 
 am not incapable of avenging myself if I have been 
 offended, and when it concerns my honor to resent 
 an injury committed against me ; on the contrary, I 
 should be sure that duty would perform so well in 
 me the office of hatred, that I would pursue my re 
 venge with greater vigor than another." The true 
 portrait of La Rochefoucauld is that which has been 
 drawn by Retz. 2 " There has always been something 
 indescribable in M. de La Rochefoucauld : he took 
 pleasure in intrigues at an early age, and at a time 
 when he did not trouble himself with little things, 
 never a weakness with him, and at a time, too, when 
 he was unacquainted with great ones, which were 
 not his forte ; he never had much capacity for busi 
 ness . . . his views were not sufficiently extended . . . 
 he always had an habitual irresolution ... he was 
 never a warrior, though a very good soldier ; he was 
 never of himself a good courtier, although he had 
 the best intention to be one ; he was never a good 
 party man, though all his life a partisan. . . . All 
 
 1 M6moires, Anecdotes, p. 81. 2 Vol. i., p. 217. 
 
72 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 these tilings, together with his Maximes, which do 
 not exhibit much faith in virtue, and his policy which 
 has always been to withdraw from business with as 
 much impatience as he engaged in it, makes me con 
 clude that he would have done much better to have 
 known himself, and to have passed, as he might have 
 done, for the most polished courtier, and for the most 
 civil man in common life which his century pro 
 duced." 
 
 As to Madame de Longueville, she is certainly far 
 from being perfect, and perhaps she would have been 
 less loved had she been so ; but amid the follies into 
 which passion plunged her, we feel at least that in 
 terest is nothing to her. The defect of which she 
 continually accuses herself, is the desire of pleasing 
 and of appearing. The only injury which she com 
 mitted against La Eochefoucauld was that momen 
 tary display of giddiness and coquetry during the 
 journey from Guyenne. This was her real stain. All 
 the rest of her conduct in the Fronde is explained 
 and easily defended when viewed as we have indi 
 cated. 
 
 Besides, no one s conduct in the Fronde should be 
 regarded in too serious a light, for the Fronde was 
 not a serious affair -, 1 it was a series of intrigues, in 
 
 i On the Fronde and its general causes, see Part i., chap. 4. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 73 
 
 which no one had any other object than interest, van 
 ity, love of importance, with gallantry, and pleasure. 
 Princes thought only of themselves, of increasing 
 their authority and their fortune ; and to this end, 
 they went by turns from one party to another accord 
 ing to events and to the daily changes around them. 
 Conde, the prominent person in the drama, and the 
 only one who with his rival Mazarinr merits a place 
 in history, despised at bottom all parties ; but in the 
 end he fixed his mind upon a place incompatible 
 with royal grandeur. His natural inclination was to 
 the side of the Court : the Fronde, properly speaking, 
 and the parliament were odious to him, and he never 
 served them except with great disrelish. His chief 
 spring of action was war, for which he had a ge 
 nius ; and this it was which, after much deliberation 
 and hesitation, finally carried him away. The parlia 
 ment, forgetting its part and its duties, was agitated 
 by young lords burlesque tribunes. The people 
 of Paris were set in commotion : they were excited 
 against the Court ; but as soon as serious reforms and 
 a convocation of the States-General were talked of, 
 the parliament took alarm, and receded as well as 
 the opposing party. 1 The only use of the Fronde, 
 
 1 See thereon a curious passage of Madame de Motteville, vol. iv., 
 p. 359, etc. 
 
 7 
 
74: MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 in the admirable economy of our history, has been 
 to strengthen the royal power, to make every one 
 sensible of its absolute necessity, and to promote, per 
 haps to excess, the work of Louis XL, of Henri IV., 
 and of Eichelieu. Under the League, two great 
 opinions, two great causes, were in hostility. The 
 League also produced minds, stamped characters, 
 was a school of politics and of war, and formed the 
 strong men of the first half of the seventeenth cen 
 tury. The Fronde is in our annals an episode with 
 out grandeur ; it formed no one, either a warrior or 
 a statesman ; the nation took very little part in it, 
 because it felt that in it no great interest was at stake ; 
 it was a pastime for gentlemen, for wits, and belles. 
 To the ladies especially the Fronde belonged : they 
 were at once its motive power and its instruments, its 
 most interested actors ; and among them Madame de 
 Longueville played the most conspicuous part. 
 
 IY. 
 
 We should be tempted to be more severe towards 
 the faults of more than one kind into which she was 
 drawn by her sad connection with La Eochefoucauld 
 if she herself had felt less remorse, if her repentance 
 had not been so long and so severe. Her errors be 
 gan at the close of 1647, or during the first months 
 of 1648 they did not extend beyond 1652 ; her 
 
INTRODUCTION. 75 
 
 remorse ceased only with her life in 1679. Madame 
 de Longueville was roused to reflection in 1653 : she 
 became converted in the middle of the year 1654. 
 At this period she was thirty -five years of age, and in 
 all the splendor of her beauty. For a long time yet 
 she might have enjoyed the pleasures of life and of 
 the world. She renounced them to devote herself 
 unreservedly and forever to God. During twenty- 
 five years, in Normandy, among the Carmelites, and 
 at Port-Royal, she lived only for duty and repent 
 ance, seeking to become dead to every thing that had 
 formerly occupied her life the cares of her beauty, 
 the tendernesses of the heart, the graceful employ 
 ments of the mind. But in the dress of haircloth as 
 well as in fashionable attire, among the Carmelites 
 and at Port-Eoyal as well as at the hotel de Ram- 
 bouillet and in the Fronde, she preserved what she 
 could never lose an angelic face, a mind charming 
 in the most extreme negligence, with a certain lofti 
 ness of soul and character. This third and last epoch 
 of the life of Madame de Longueville, will here be 
 presented as fully as the subject demands : therein 
 we shall see, in all its truth, a devotion continually 
 increasing, and more and more scrupulous, sometimes 
 reducing her to the most pitiful condition, sometimes 
 elevating her to an admirable grandeur ; as, for ex 
 ample, in her struggles, after the death of her hus- 
 
76 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 band, ,with her brother Conde, in regard to her two 
 sons, and in the defence which she undertook of per 
 secuted Port-Royal. 
 
 "We do not think that we debase Mademoiselle de 
 Lavalliere by comparing with her Madame de 
 Longueville. It is true that the loves of Made 
 moiselle de Lavalliere move us in a very different 
 manner from those which we shall have to relate. In 
 setting aside the circumstance of royalty, which in 
 this case forms the disagreeable side, and which is al 
 ways somewhat injurious to true and disinterested love, 
 Louis XIY. was much better calculated to please than 
 La Rochefoucauld ; he was much younger and much 
 more handsome ; he was, or appeared to be, a great 
 man and a hero. He adored Mademoiselle de La 
 valliere at once with an impetuous ardor and with the 
 most delicate tenderness, and his passion continued 
 for a long time. Mademoiselle de Lavalliere loved 
 the king as she would have loved a simple gentleman. 
 It is this which gives her a separate place among the 
 favorites of Louis XIY., and places her far ab<-ve 
 Madame de Montespan, and especially above Madame 
 de Maintenon. It cannot be denied that Madame 
 de Longueville loved with the same disinterestedness 
 and the same abandonment ; but her affection was ill 
 bestowed, but she mingled with it wit and vanity, 
 but she .became giddy and coquettish. Thus far the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 77 
 
 comparison is entirely against her. But, besides, she 
 was far superior to Mademoiselle de Lavalliere. She 
 was incomparably more beautiful and more intellec 
 tual. Her soul was also more proud. At the least 
 suspicion of change in the affection of Louis XIY., 
 she would have fled from the court ; while Made 
 moiselle de. Lavalliere remained in it some time, in 
 the presence of her proud, triumphing rival, thinking 
 that by force of humility, of patience, and of devo 
 tion, she would reconquer the heart that she had lost. 
 And then, what better could she do than to enter a 
 cloister ? Would she not have rendered herself con 
 temptible by remaining in the world, by giving to 
 society the spectacle of a favorite of the king con 
 soling herself, like Madame de Soubise, for the in 
 constancy of her royal lover, in the enjoyment of a for 
 tune sadly acquired and shamefully preserved ! In en 
 tering the convent of the Carmelites, Mademoiselle de 
 Lavalliere did no more than she was compelled to do. 
 There is in the conversion and retirement of Madame 
 de Longueville something more free and more unu 
 sual, and to glorify her penitence, nothing is wanting 
 but the voice of Bossuet. If the incomparable orator 
 who had consecrated to God Louise de La Miseri- 
 corde, and who, at a later period, had made his words 
 equal in greatness to the actions of Conde, if his voice 
 had been heard at the celebration of the obsequies of 
 
 7* 
 
78 MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 Anne de Bourbon, Christian letters would have 
 counted another masterpiece, of which the funeral 
 oration of the Princess Palatine may give us some 
 idea, and the name of Madame de Longueville would 
 be surrounded with an immortal halo. 
 
THE YOUTH OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 
 
 OHAPTEE I. 
 
 1619 to 1635. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon in her family Her mother, Charlotte de 
 Montrnorency Her father, M. the Prince Her brother, the Duke 
 d Enghieu Her religious education The convent of the Carmelites 
 of the Rue Saint-Jacques The four great prioresses Mademoiselle 
 d Epernon Mademoiselle de Bourbon at the ball of the Louvre, Feb 
 ruary 18, 1635 Her portrait at the age of fifteen years. 
 
 I SHALL some day attempt to make known in Ma 
 dame de Longueville the heroine, or, if you prefer, 
 the adventuress of the Fronde, casting herself amid 
 dangers and intrigues of every kind in order to serve 
 the interests and the passions of another. I shall 
 afterwards show her overcome, disabused, her soul 
 at once wounded and bereaved, turning its regards 
 towards the only side that cannot deceive her, to 
 wards duty and God. At present. I would recount 
 her life before the Fronde, and even before the 
 unequal marriage imposed upon her by her family. 
 
80 CHAPTER I. 
 
 the source, indeed, of her errors and her misfor 
 tunes. I would paint the youth of Madame de 
 Longueville, show Mademoiselle de Bourbon in her 
 days of innocent splendor, yet bearing in herself all 
 the seeds of a stormy future ; born in a prison, and 
 leaving it to mount almost upon the steps of a throne ; 
 surrounded early by the most gloomy spectacles, with 
 all the felicities of life, beautiful and intellectual ; 
 proud and tender, ardent and melancholy, wishing to 
 bury herself at fifteen in a cloister, and, once thrown, in 
 spite of herself, into the world, allowing herself there 
 to be intoxicated with her own success ; becoming 
 the ornament of the court of Louis XIII. and of the 
 hotel de Rambouillet, eclipsing the most accom 
 plished beauties by a peculiar sweetness and a rav 
 ishing languor ; giving ear to two proposals, but still 
 pure and free ; and advancing, apparently, towards 
 the most beautiful destiny, under the wing of a 
 mother like Charlotte de Montmorency, by the side 
 of a brother like the Duke d Enghien. 
 
 I agree that this picture of a brilliant but fortunate 
 youth, without adventures and without blemishes, 
 may seem somewhat tame to readers accustomed to 
 the great bustle and the sudden turns of fortune in 
 fashionable romances. In order to indemnify them, 
 I shall place with this picture another more highly 
 colored. After the young girl growing up inno- 
 
DE BOURBON IN HElt FAMILY. 81 
 
 cently between religion and the muses, as here 
 tofore described, I shall exhibit the young woman, 
 rushing, in her turn, into the arena of gallantry, 
 scattering around her conquests and quarrels, and 
 becoming the subject of the most famous of the great 
 duels which, during so many years, reddened the 
 Place-Royal, and were not arrested even before the 
 implacable axe of Richelieu. These will be scenes 
 sufficiently animated; but, while waiting for the 
 tragi-comedy, endure, a little while, the pastoral. 
 It was then a necessary interlude, and I beg you to 
 assume for a moment with me the taste and the 
 manners of the seventeenth century. 
 
 Anne Genevieve de Bourbon was born August 
 28, 1619, in the tower of Yincennes, where her 
 father and mother had been prisoners for three 
 years. 
 
 Her mother was Charlotte Marguerite de Mont- 
 morency, granddaughter of the high constable, and, 
 according to unanimous testimonies, the most beauti 
 ful person of her times. Dazzling in her early youth, 
 she preserved even in advanced age a remarkable 
 beauty. In addition to her portraits, we have two 
 faithful descriptions, one by Cardinal Bentivoglio, 
 who knew her and loved her, it is said, at Brussels, 
 where he was apostolic nuncio in 1609, when she 
 was nearly sixteen years of age ; the other, by the 
 
82 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 hand of Madame de Motteville, who has portrayed 
 her as she saw her later at the court of Queen Anne. 
 "She had a complexion," says Bentivoglio, 1 "of 
 extraordinary whiteness, eyes and features full of 
 charm; she was graceful in gestures and manner 
 of speaking ; and all her different qualities height 
 ened each other, because she added to them none of 
 the affectations of which women are accustomed to 
 avail themselves." Madame de Motteville thus ex 
 presses herself : 2 " Among the princesses, she who 
 was first had also the most beauty ; and, though not 
 young, she still caused admiration in those who saw 
 her. . . I wish to testify that her beauty was still 
 great, when, in my infancy, I was at court, and that 
 it endured to the end of her life. We praised her 
 during the regency of the queen, at fifty years of age, 
 and we praised her without flattery. Her complex 
 ion was fair ; she had blue and perfectly beautiful 
 eyes. Her mien was lofty and full of majesty, and 
 her whole person, which was in every way agree 
 able, always pleased, except when she proudly and 
 sharply opposed those who dared to displease her." 
 When, at fifteen years of age, she appeared at the 
 court of Henry IY., she turned the head of the old 
 
 1 We borrow the translation that Villefore has given of this part of 
 the Italian narrative of the cardinal, Part 1st, p. 22. 
 8 Part 1st, p. 44. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON IN HER FAMILY. 83 
 
 king. He married her to his nephew, the Prince de 
 Conde, in the hope of finding him a convenient hus 
 band ; but he, proud and amorous, was clearly of the 
 opinion that he had married the beautiful Charlotte 
 for himself; and, seeing the king more and more in 
 flamed, he found no other means of extricating him 
 self from his difficult position, than by taking his 
 wife and flying with her to Brussels. "We know all 
 the follies that Henry IY. then committed, and to 
 what extremities he was about to go when he was 
 assassinated, in 1610. 1 
 
 Henri de Bourbon, Prince de Conde, was no or 
 dinary man. He owed much to Henry IY., and he 
 expected much from him ; but he had not the cour 
 age to peril the fortune of his house by voluntarily 
 exiling himself; and later he compromised himself 
 anew by his resistance to the tyrannical conduct 
 of Marshal d Ancre, under the regency of Marie 
 de Medicis. Arrested in 1616, he did not leave 
 his prison until the end of 1619, and from that 
 time he no longer thought of any thing but his for 
 tune. Born Protestant, he had embraced Catholicism 
 
 1 See, in the Library of the Arsenal, Manuscripts of Conrart, in-4<>, vol. 
 xvi., p. 642, an unpublished letter of "Henri de Bourbon to his mother, 
 upon the assassination of Henri IV., which proves how absurd it is to 
 accuse him of having been concerned in that assassination. The same 
 volume contains different writings of the same prince against Marshal 
 d Ancro. 
 
84r CHAPTER I. 
 
 through policy, after the example of Henry IV. His 
 wife had brought to him a great part of the immense 
 riches of the Montmorencys. He submitted himself 
 to Luynes, and served Richelieu. He forced his son, 
 the Duke d Enghien, to espouse a niece of the all- 
 powerful cardinal, who. had just ^decapitated his 
 brother-in-law. As avaricious as ambitious, he 
 amassed property and heaped up honors. At the 
 death of Richelieu, he became the chief of the council, 
 and displayed in that difficult conjuncture a fortunate 
 mixture of prudence and firmness." He sustained the 
 regency of Anne of Austria, and saved France from 
 the first perils of the long minority of Louis XIY. 
 He merits a place in the gratitude of his country, for 
 having given to it twice, as it were, the great Conde, 
 by imposing upon that nature of fire a nature wholly 
 made for war, the severest military education that 
 ever prince received, and by preparing him to take, 
 at twenty-one years of age, the command in chief 
 of the army, on which rested, in 1643, the destinies 
 of France. 
 
 "When Henri de Bourbon, who was called M. the 
 Prince, was arrested, he preferred but one petition, 
 and that was dictated by jealousy and love ; he de 
 manded that his wife might be allowed to share his 
 prison. Charlotte de Montmorency was scarcely 
 twenty-one years of age ; she did not love her husband, 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON IN 1IKR FAMILY. 85 
 
 and they did not live agreeably together ; but, with 
 out hesitation, she besought the king in person 
 to permit her to imprison herself with her hus 
 band, accepting the condition of remaining a pris 
 oner as long as he should be the same. This cap 
 tivity, at first very hard at the Bastile, then a little 
 less rigorous at Yincennes, continued three years. 
 The young princess was often ill; she was several 
 times unfortunately the mother of untimely chil 
 dren. 1 Finally, August 28, 1619, between mid- 
 
 1 We find in regard to all this, new and curious details in a Journal 
 Tiistorique et anecdote de la cour et de Paris, t. xi., in-4, manuscripts 
 of Conrart. This unpublished journal commences January 1, 1614, and 
 goes to January 1, 1620. 
 
 M. the Prince was arrested September 1, 1616, by order of Marshal 
 d Ancre, favorite of the queen regent, Marie de Medicis. 
 
 "September 11. Madame the young Princess arrives very much af 
 flicted. It is said that M. de Montmorency was not pleased that the 
 queen was unwilling to permit her to see M. le Prince. 
 
 "May 19, 1617. M. le Prince petitions the king to do a charitable 
 deed by delivering to him his wife, that she might remain a prisoner 
 with him. 
 
 "May 26, 1617. Madame the Princess de Conde goes to salute the 
 king and supplicate him to let her enter as a prisoner in the Bastile 
 with M. the Prince. The king grants it to her, and permits her to 
 take with her only one damsel. Upon which her petit nain, having 
 supplicated the king to be pleased that he should not abandon his 
 mistress, his majesty also permitted him. The same day, after dinner, 
 Madame the Princess entered the Bastile, where she was received by 
 M. the Prince with all the testimonies of friendship that can be im 
 agined ; and he gave her no repose until she had said to him that 
 she pardoned him." In this same journal, there has often been a 
 question of the bad conduct of the prince towards his wife, in regard 
 to which there is not one word of blarne. 
 
 8 
 
86 CHAPTER I. 
 
 night and one o clock, she gave to the world Anne 
 Genevieve. It seems as if the birth of this child 
 brought good fortune to her parents ; for two months 
 
 "August 81, 1617. The undertaking to save the prince from the 
 Bastile discovered. 
 
 " September 15, 1617. M. the Prince taken from the Bastile to the 
 wood of Vincennes. ... A long time before he had asked that he 
 might be placed there in order to have better air. M. de Modene 
 said to him that, mindful of that, he had pressed the king so much 
 upon the subject, that at last he had obtained it. M. the Prince re 
 sponded that in the mean time he had become accustomed to the air 
 of the Bastile ; and thereupon resisted all that he could, until it was 
 necessary to go. Madame the Princess also went with him in a coach, 
 having been unwilling to enter a litter. It is said that in the begin 
 ning M. the Prince only thought it was desired to deprive him of his 
 wife. M. de Vitry, M. de Persan, M. de Modene, were with him in the 
 coach. After his arrival at the wood of Vincennes, it was permitted 
 him, about the beginning of October, to walk upon the top of a thick 
 wall, which is in the form of a gallery. M. de Persan dwelt in the 
 tower of the wood of Vincennes, in order to guard the prince with the 
 greatest part of the soldiers that he had with him in the Bastile, and 
 M. de Cadenet (afterwards Duke and Marshal de Chaulnes, brother of 
 Constable de Luynes), with a dozen companies of the regiment of Nor 
 mandy, kept guard in the court of the chateau, which the soldiers 
 are not permitted to leave. 
 
 "About December 20, 1617. Madame the Princess very sick. She 
 is put to bed in the wood of Vincennes, at seven months, of a still 
 born child, and was more than forty-eight hours without motion or 
 feeling. Never was a person in greater extremity without dying. 
 Among other physicians, M. Duret and M. Pietre assisted her with ex 
 treme care. When M. the Prince desired that there should be obse 
 quies for this little infant, M. the Bishop of Paris assembled some 
 theologians, who judged that, since, not having received baptism, it had 
 not entered into the Church, no ceremonies ought to be used on the 
 subject of its death. 
 
 " September 5, 1618. Madame the Princess is put to bed of two dead 
 boys. The king shows great displeasure thereupon. Several persons 
 had permission to go to see her. 
 
 " March 21, 1619. M. the Prince falls sick. Tuesday, April 2. MM. 
 
DE BOURBON IN HER FAMILY. 87 
 
 had not passed away, when the Prince de Conde left 
 prison with his wife and daughter, and resumed his 
 rank and all his honors. 
 
 Hatin, Duret, and Seguin came to the Louvre to represent the state of the 
 malady. The cause was attributed to profound melancholy. For sev 
 eral days he was regarded as hopeless. Madame his mother, Madame 
 the Countess, Madame de Ventadour, Madame the Countess d Auvergne, 
 Madame de laTremoille, Madame de Fontaines, Madame la Grande, etc., 
 were allowed to go and visit him. Monday, April 8, the king sent to 
 him his sword by M.de Cadenet, and wrote to him : My cousin, I am very 
 much grieved at your illness. I pray you to be comforted. As soon as 
 I shall have set in order my affairs, I will give you your liberty. Be 
 rejoiced then, and have the assurance of my friendship. I am, etc. 
 
 " August 28, 1619. Between midnight and one o clock, Madame the 
 Princess was put to bed of a daughter, in the wood of Vincennes. 
 
 " October 17, 1619. Council held, in which is taken the final resolu 
 tion of releasing M. the Prince. 
 
 " October 18. The king goes to Chantilly, to await there M. the 
 Prince. 
 
 " 19th. M. de Luynes goes to find M. the Prince at the wood of Vin 
 cennes. 
 
 " 20th. M. de Luynes goes early in the morning to the wood of Vin 
 cennes, and gets into a carriage with M. the Prince and Madame the 
 Princess, in which were also MM. de Cadenet and de Modene. He goes 
 to Chantilly to find the king, and sees him in a cabinet, where, it is said, 
 he falls upon his knees, and makes extreme protestations of fidelity, 
 and feeling of obligation, which he had for him. 
 
 " 22d. The king returns to Compiegne, accompanied by M. the Prince. 
 Madame the Princess arrived there and saw the queen the same day." 
 
 In the xvi. vol. of the same manuscript, p. 933, a French diplomatic 
 agent transmit the reports spread abroad in the Low Countries, on the 
 subject of the Prince and Princess de Conde, prisoners at the Bastile or 
 in Vincennes : " The Princess de Conde, the younger, has written from 
 there to her own femme de chambre married in that city, that M. the 
 Prince de Conde was under the impression that he had been poisoned 
 by his head-cook, named Baucheron, who had practiced and received 
 money for that purpose, and had escaped ; and because he might take 
 refuge in that country, she charges her to inform the Prince and Prin 
 cess of Orange, in order to arrest him if possible. The people of the so- 
 
88 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Anne Genevieve passed very soon from the tower 
 of Yincennes to the hotel de Conde. There, two 
 years afterwards, September 2, 1621, was born the 
 brother, who was destined to give such lustre to the 
 name of Conde, Louis, Duke d Enghien ; and later, 
 in 1629, another brother still, Armand, Prince de 
 Conti. This last was not wanting in spirit ; but he 
 was feeble in body, and even considerably de 
 formed. He was destined for the Church. He 
 pursued his studies at the college of Clermont, with 
 the Jesuits, in company with Moliere, and studied 
 theology at Bourges, under Father Deschamps. He 
 made his appearance in the world in the early part 
 of 1647, a little previous to the Fronde. The Duke 
 d Enghien, charged with sustaining the greatness 
 of his house, was brought up by his father with the 
 masculine tenderness already spoken of, the fruits of 
 which have been too great to allow us to show 
 them in a single moment. 
 
 M. the Prince gave no governor to his son ; he 
 chose to direct his education himself, calling to his 
 aid two gentlemen, one for exercises of the* body, the 
 other for those of the mind. The young duke pur- 
 
 called Prince of Orange also say, that M. the Prince de Conde has 
 thought of escaping, and has been betrayed and discovered by one of 
 his domestics, but that he has still other means for regaining his lib- 
 erty." 
 
DE BOUIiBON IN HER FAMILY. 89 
 
 sued his studies, under the Jesuits of Bourges, with 
 the greatest success. He maintained there, with a 
 certain eclat, philosophical theses. He learned the 
 principles of law under the celebrated Doctor Edmond 
 Merille. He studied history and mathematics, with 
 out neglecting the Italian, dancing, boxing, horse 
 manship, and the chase. On his return to Paris, he 
 saw again his sister, and was charmed with her 
 grace and spirit : he bound himself to her in a most 
 tender friendship, which suffered some changes, but 
 resisted all trials, and, after the passionate age, be 
 came as firm as at first it had been ardent. At the 
 hotel de Conde, the Duke d Enghien learned, in the 
 company of his sister and his mother, politeness, 
 elegant manners, and gallantry. His father placed 
 him at the academy, under a renowned master, to 
 whom he gave absolute authority over him. Louis 
 de Bourbon was there treated as severely as a simple 
 gentleman. He had at the academy the same success 
 as at college, which he left, the most capable of all 
 those that were there with him. Let us listen to 
 the words of Lenet, 1 the reliable witness of all that 
 he recounts : 
 
 " No one had yet seen a prince of the blood 
 brought up and instructed in that common manner ; 
 
 1 Memoires de Lenet, collection of Michaud, 3d series, v. ii., p. 448. 
 
 8* 
 
90 CHAPTER I. 
 
 nor had any one seen a prince who, in so short a 
 time, and in such extreme youth, exhibited so much 
 knowledge, so much experience, and so much ad 
 dress in every thing. The prince, his father, skil 
 ful and enlightened in all matters, believed that in 
 the academy he would be less diverted from that oc 
 cupation, so necessary to a young man of birth, than 
 in the hotel. He also thought that those lords and 
 gentlemen who were there, and who had entered it 
 in order to have the honor of his company, would be 
 servants and friends, who would attach themselves to 
 his person and his fortune. During all those days 
 devoted to work, nothing could divert his mind. 
 The whole court admired his air and his grace in 
 skilfully managing a horse, in running at the ring, 
 in dancing and fencing. The king himself compelled 
 him, from time to time, to give an account of his con 
 duct, and often praised the profound judgment of the 
 prince his father in every thing, and particularly in 
 the education of the duke his son, saying to every, 
 body that in this he wished to imitate him, and to 
 have Monsieur the Dauphin instructed and brought 
 up in the same manner." .... 
 
 . . . . " After the young duke had remained at 
 this excellent school the time necessary to perfect 
 himself, as he did, he left it ; and after having been 
 some months at court and among the ladies, where, 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON IN HER FAMILY. 91 
 
 in the beginning, he exhibited that noble and gallant 
 air so universally admired, the prince his father 
 persuaded the king and Cardinal Eichelieu that 
 powerful, skilled, and authoritative minister to send 
 him into his own government of Burgundy, with let 
 ters-patent, to command there in his absence." . . . 
 
 ..." The troops often traversed Burgundy, and 
 frequently made it their winter-quarters. There the 
 young prince began to learn the manner of properly 
 establishing and governing them, that is, of giving 
 subsistence to the troops without ruining the places 
 where they sojourned. He learned how to mark out 
 lines of march and places of bivouac, and to make 
 soldiers live with order and discipline. He received 
 the complaints of all, and caused justice to be done 
 them. He found a manner of satisfying the soldiers 
 and the people. He often received orders from the 
 king, and letters from the ministers ; he was punctual 
 in replying to them ; and the court, like the province, 
 saw with astonishment his application to business. 
 He entered the parliament when important subjects 
 rendered his presence necessary, or when the discus 
 sion of some interesting question excited his curiosity. 
 The intendant of justice .completed nothing without 
 rendering an account of it to him. He began from 
 that moment, whatever might be his confidence in his 
 secretaries, to sign no order, no letters, which he had 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 not previously commanded, which he had not read 
 from end to end. . . . These great and serious occu 
 pations did not interfere with his amusements, and 
 his pleasures were no obstacle to his studies. He 
 found days and hours for all things. He went to the 
 chase, and was among the best at shooting on the 
 wing ; he gave balls to the ladies ; he looked after the 
 management of his servants ; he danced ; he con 
 tinued to learn languages and read history ; he ap 
 plied himself to mathematics, and especially to ge 
 ometry and fortifications ; he planned and raised a 
 fort of four bastions, a league from Dijon, in the plain 
 of Bloye ; and such was his eagerness to see it com 
 pleted and in readiness for attack and defence as 
 was the case several times with the young lords and 
 gentlemen who rendered themselves assiduous about 
 him that he had his table removed thither, and took 
 there most of his meals." 
 
 Thus prepared, the Duke d Enghien went, during 
 the summer of 1640, to serve, in the capacity of vol 
 unteer, in the army of Marshal de La Meilleraye. 
 The marshal wished to take his orders, and to have 
 the appearance at least of depending on him. The 
 young duke firmly refused, saying that he had come 
 to learn his trade, and wished to fulfil all the func 
 tions of a volunteer, without regard to his rank. In 
 one of the first engagements, La Ferte-Senneterre 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON IN HER FAMILY. 93 
 
 was wounded, and had his horse killed by a cannon- 
 shot. The Duke d Enghien was so near him, that 
 the blood of the horse covered his face. At the siege 
 of Arras, he was everywhere seen at the head of the 
 volunteers. He was found at all the sallies made by 
 the besieged. He rarely left the trench ; often slept 
 there, and had his food brought there. Three en 
 gagements took place during this siege. The young 
 duke distinguished himself in all. "The great 
 heart which he showed upon these occasions," says 
 Lenet; 1 "the obliging manner with which he treated 
 every one ; the liberality with which he assisted 
 friends who were in need, wounded officers and sol 
 diers ; the secrecy which he observed in rendering 
 them assistance, made the clear-sighted predict that 
 he would some day be one of the greatest captains of 
 the world." 
 
 It was in the winter of 1641, that he was compelled 
 to espouse Mademoiselle de Breze, niece of Kichelieu. 
 The Duke d Enghien did every thing in his power to 
 shun an alliance which was repugnant to his heart as 
 well as to his ambition. He had cast his eyes upon 
 Mademoiselle, then the only daughter of the Duke 
 of Orleans, beautiful, young, rich, and intellectual. 
 He had already allowed his soul to be penetrated 
 
 1 Memoires de Lenet, Michaud, 8d series, vol. ii., p. 458. 
 
94 CHAPTER I. 
 
 with a particular sentiment for another person, whom 
 he at length adored. He yielded only after a long 
 resistance, protesting officially and before a notary, 
 that he gave way to force and to the deference that 
 he owed to the will of his father. He fell sick, 
 and was even in danger, when, suddenly, the re 
 port was spread abroad that the campaign was 
 about to be opened, and that the army of Marshal 
 de La Meilleraye was marching into Flanders, to 
 attack the stronghold of Aire. This news reached 
 him when still so feeble that he could scarcely 
 quit his bed. " He sets out immediately," says 
 Lenet. 1 " The prayers of his family, the tears 
 of his mistress, the command of the king him 
 self are not able to arrest him. He learns on his 
 inarch, being at Abbeville, that the cardinal was 
 approaching from the besieged place in order to at 
 tack the lines. He quits his coach, mounts a horse 
 at the same hour with the Duke de Nemours, his in 
 timate friend, a handsome prince, full of spirit and 
 courage, whom death took from him soon after. 2 
 
 O / 
 
 He passes in the night by Hesdin, so near the enemy 
 that one might almost say that he passed through 
 
 1 Hi-moires de Lenet, Michaud, 3d series, vol. ii., p. 455. 
 
 3 His eldest brother, who, having taken his title after his death, was 
 also distinguished for his beauty, his bravery, his gallantry, played 
 an important part in the life of Madame de Longueville, and perished in 
 a senseless duel with the Duke de Beaufort, his brother-in-law. 
 
 
E BOURBON IN HER FAMILY. 95 
 
 their army, and arrives fortunately in the camp, 
 where he is received with testimonies of joy that 
 it would be difficult to express. This fatigue, which 
 might have been expected to cause a relapse in 
 a feeble and reduced convalescent, gives to him 
 new strength, and from that moment he is seen 
 exposing himself to all the perils of war. He often 
 sleeps in the trench ; he eats there ; and there is no 
 work, however advanced, where he is not seen tak 
 ing part like a simple soldier. ... At the siege of 
 Bapaume, the duke wished to end the campaign as 
 he had commenced it ; that is, by going everywhere, 
 and incurring all the hazards and all the perils of the 
 trench and advance works. It was not possible for 
 him to leave the army as long as he thought there 
 was any thing of importance to undertake." 
 
 Some time after, he followed the Cardinal de 
 Richelieu and the king to the siege of Perpignan. 
 He was there wounded, and there covered with 
 glory; so that no one was astonished when, in 1643, 
 after the death of Eichelieu, Louis XIII., also near 
 his death, at the same time that he established the 
 Prince de Conde chief of council, named the Duke 
 d Enghien Generalissimo of the principal army of 
 France, destined to defend the frontier of Flanders, 
 menaced by a powerful Spanish army. The Duke 
 d Enghien was not twenty-two years of age. A month 
 
96 CHAPTER I. 
 
 afterwards he gained the battle of Rocroy, soon to be 
 followed by those of Friburgh, Nbrtlingen, and Lens. 
 
 Such was the brother. The sister had not dis 
 regarded the examples of her house, but on the 
 contrary had rapidly attained, by her wit and her 
 beauty, a renown sufficiently great. 
 
 From her infancy, great lessons had never been 
 wanting to her. 
 
 She was eight years of age in 1627, when one of 
 the near relatives of her mother, Montmorency- 
 Boutteville, was beheaded in the Place de Greve, for 
 having fought a duel in spite of the edict of the king, 
 leaving, under the protection of Madame the Prin 
 cess, his widow and three young children, Marie- 
 Louise, afterwards Marchioness de Yalencay ; Isa- 
 belle-Angelique, afterwards Duchess de Chatillon; 
 and Fancois-Henri de Montmorency, born after the 
 death of his father, who became the Duke Marshal 
 de Luxembourg, one of the most faithful friends and 
 best lieutenants of Conde. 
 
 She was thirteen in 1632, when the own brother of 
 her mother, the Duke de Montmorency, ascended the 
 scaffold at Toulouse for having revolted against the 
 king, or rather against Richelieu, upon the uncertain 
 faith of Gaston, Duke of Orleans. This terrible 
 catastrophe, which resounded from one end of France 
 to the other, filled the hotel de Conde with mourning, 
 
DE BOUKBON IN IIKK FAMILY. 97 
 
 and made a profound impression upon the delicate and 
 proud soul of Mademoiselle de Bourbon. She was 
 so troubled by it, that her grief, adding new ardor to 
 the piety in which she had been nourished, caused her 
 to think seriously of quitting the world and becoming 
 a Carmelite in the great convent of the Rue Saint- 
 Jacques, 
 
 What religious education had Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon received, then, that such a thought should 
 come to her at thirteen or fourteen years of age? 
 How did she know the convent of the Carmelites 
 what ties had she already formed there, which &\F 
 tracted her so powerfully ? 
 
 It was the time when the religious spirit, after hav 
 ing gone astray in the civil wars, and produced the 
 great crimes and the great virtues of the League, re 
 fined, but not enfeebled, by the Edict of Kantes and 
 the policy of Henry IV., found in peace new strength, 
 and covered France, no longer with inimical parties 
 armed against each other, but with pious institutions, 
 in which weary souls were eager to seek an asylum. 
 Everywhere the ancient orders were reformed, and 
 new orders were founded. Richelieu courageously un 
 dertook the reformation of the clergy, created semi 
 naries, and above these, as their model and tribunal, 
 raised the Sorbonne. Berulle instituted the Oratoire, 
 Cesar de Bus the Doctrine cAretrienne. The Jesuits, 
 
 9 
 
98 CHAPTER I. 
 
 who sprang up in the middle of the sixteenth cen 
 tury, and who spread themselves so rapidly over 
 France, at first decried and even banished for their 
 participation in culpable excesses, little by little re 
 gained favor under the protection of the immense ser 
 vices which their heroic skill daily rendered, beyond 
 the ocean, to Christianity and civilization. The order 
 of Saint Benedict engaged in a salutary reform, and 
 the Benedictines of Saint-Maur gave the prelude to 
 their gigantic works. But who can enumerate the fine 
 institutions, designed for women, that were founded 
 on every hand by Christianity, during the first half 
 of the seventeenth century ? The two most illustri 
 ous, after reformed Port-Royal, are the Sisters of 
 Charity about 1640, and the Carmelites in 1602. 
 
 The first convent of the Carmelites was established 
 at Paris, in the Faubourg Saint-Jacques, under the 
 auspices and by the munificence of that house of 
 Longueville, into which Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 was destined to enter. Her mother, Madame the Prin 
 cess, was one of the benefactresses of the rising institu 
 tion. There she had an apartment, where she often 
 retreated for a long time. At an early period, she 
 thither led her daughter, and there filled her soul 
 with the principles and the devotional habits of the 
 times. Mademoiselle de Bourbon grew up in the shade 
 of the holy monastery. There she beheld the reign of 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CAKMELITES. 99 
 
 virtue, goodness, concord, peace, silence : there she was 
 loved, and there she was called. It is, then, natural 
 that at the first sight of the tempests which menaced 
 all the great things of the earth, and struck the most 
 illustrious members of her own family, she should 
 think of forestalling her destiny, and seek a shelter 
 under the humble roof of the Carmelites. She had 
 there sweet and noble friendships, which she never 
 abandoned. We possess a multitude of letters, ad 
 dressed by her to the Carmelites of the convent of 
 the Eue Saint-Jacques, at all the epochs of her life, 
 before, during, and after the Fronde. We feel that 
 they were written to persons who had her entire con 
 fidence and whole soul. But what were those per 
 sons ? She calls them sometimes the Mother Prio 
 ress, sometimes the Mother Sub-prioress, Sister 
 Marthe, Sister Anne-Marie, Mother Marie-Madeleine, 
 Mother Agnes, etc. One could wish to pierce the 
 veil that covers the family names of all these nuns. 
 We doubt much whether the friends of Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon and Madame de Longueville could have 
 been common creatures ; and as we know that many 
 women of the first quality and of noblest heart found 
 a refuge among the Carmelites, as the name of Sister 
 Louise de La Misericorde has become the popular 
 symbol of disinterested and unfortunate love, a curi 
 osity, somewhat profane but very natural, leads us to 
 
100 CHAPTER I. 
 
 inquire what these nuns, so dear to the sister of the 
 great Conde, were in the world. 
 
 Hitherto we have been reduced t(f conjectures, 
 suggested to us by bringing, together different pas 
 sages from Madame de Sevigne, Madame de Motte- 
 ville, and Mademoiselle. The French Carmelites 
 have no history. Faithful to their vow of obscurity, 
 these worthy daughters of Saint Theresa have passed 
 away without leaving any traces of themselves be 
 hind. As during their life, an impenetrable cloister 
 shut them out from all eyes, and buried them in 
 advance, so the genius of their order seems to have 
 taken care to annihilate them in the memory of men. 
 At long intervals have appeared a few memoirs of 
 the Carmelites, consecrated to edification, filled with 
 holy maxim} void of human facts, and almost with 
 out dates. At the beginning of this century, a 
 priest, M. Boucher, in a new Life of the blessed 
 Sister Marie, of the Incarnation^ Madame Acarie, 
 foundress of the reformed Carmelites of France? 
 has, for the first time, thrown a little light upon 
 the origin of that holy house, presenting, or rather 
 withholding, in the notes of his work, a few short 
 biographies of the principal nuns. The national 
 library, so rich in manuscripts of every kind, possesses 
 
 Paris, 1800, in-8. 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON &&6tfG THE t CXiwrEL FrE3. 101 
 
 none that comes from the Carmelites of the Fau 
 bourg Saint- Jacques, or that relates to them. The 
 general ArcMves have inherited all their principal 
 titles. We have studied them sufficiently to give the 
 assurance that a record 1 of the greatest interest might 
 be formed of them. Among other precious pieces, 
 we may designate an inventory of paintings, by dif 
 ferent celebrated masters, 2 statues, 3 and objects of art 
 which the liberal and generous piety of the faithful 
 of every rank had, during two centuries, accumulated 
 for the Carmelites, and which were again noticed 
 in 1790. But there were other treasures which 
 we had wished to discover we desired an exact 
 list of all the nuns of that convent during the 
 seventeenth century, with their religious and their 
 
 1 There is a constant demand for a collection of the cartularies of 
 the old abbeys. Why will not some friend of religion and letters oc 
 cupy himself with filling up the lacunes, so much to be regretted, of 
 the Gallia Christiana, by bringing together, under the name of the Cart 
 ulary of the convent of the Carmelites of the Faubourg Saint- Jacques, 
 a multitude of pieces which we have held in our hands, which would 
 establish, upon authentic monuments, the history of that interesting 
 congregation, from the first years of the seventeenth century to the 
 French Eevolution? All the notes, extracts, and copies, that we have 
 amassed, belong to him who will undertake to enrich with a new vol 
 ume of this kind the Collection des documents incdits relatifs a VMstoire 
 de France. 
 
 a For example, Guido, Champagne, and Lebrun. 
 
 8 Among others, a statue, in white marble, representing the Cardinal 
 de Berulle on his knees. This beautiful work is by Jacques Sarrazin, 
 and is still to be seen in the chapel of the Carmelites. 
 
 9* 
 
102 /*>] . OJUPT-ER I. 
 
 family names, the date of their profession and that of 
 their death. We placed a particular value upon 
 knowing the succession of prioresses *vho had, by 
 turns, governed the convent, spoken or written in its 
 name. It was conceived, in fact, that without these 
 two documents, the friendships of Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon and Madame de Longueville would remain, 
 for us, almost impenetrable. 
 
 Light has come to us from a quarter where we had 
 not, at first, sought for it. 
 
 In the ruins of the convent of the Faubourg Saint- 
 Jacques, spared by the revolutionary tempest, yet 
 barely standing, some poor nuns, having escaped a 
 stupid persecution, have been trying, for fifty years 
 past, to collect the traditions of the Carmelites, and 
 they continue it in obscurity, prayer, and toil : 
 
 Prsecipites atra sue tempestate columbae, 
 Condensse et divum amplexse simulacra sedcbant. 
 
 Weary of uselessly searching archives and libra 
 ries, I addressed myself to these good nuns, and they 
 responded to me with the most graceful kindness. 
 The two documents that I needed were sent to me, 
 with manuscript annals, and a collection of biogra 
 phies, ample and full of details. Thanks to these 
 precious communications, it is easy to make out the 
 history of the Carmelites of the Faubourg Saint- 
 Jacques. Under the pious designations and mys- 
 
M"- K DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 103 
 
 tic symbols of Carmel, we recognize more than 
 one person who has already been met in the me 
 moirs of the times. Instead of beings in some sort 
 abstract and anonymous, we have before us anima 
 ted and living creatures, whose regards were doubt 
 less finally directed towards heaven, not to be turned 
 thence, who, nevertheless, for a longer or shorter 
 period, inhabited the earth, knew our sentiments, felt 
 our weaknesses, and, always remaining pure, some 
 times felt sorely tempted, and shared our human 
 ity. Some day we shall deliver to the public the key 
 that has been lent us, which will give the secret of 
 many mysterious things in the intimate history of the 
 manners of the seventeenth century. Here we shall 
 allow ourselves only a few rapid sketches that can 
 throw light upon the obscure part of the youth and 
 of the whole life of Madame de Longueville. 
 
 Saint Theresa, who died in 1582, had refounded in 
 Spain the ancient and degenerate order of Carmel. 
 The saintly renown of the new Carmelites of Spain 
 spread itself rapidly in Italy and France. An ad 
 mirable woman, Madame Acarie, afterwards Sister 
 Mary of the Incarnation, conceived the idea of sending 
 to Spain for some disciples of Saint Theresa, and of 
 establishing them at Paris in the Faubourg Saint- 
 Jacques. Such was the origin of the first convent of 
 French Carmelites. 
 
104 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 There are two Princesses de Longueville who ob 
 tained from Henri IV., in 1602, 1 the necessary let 
 ters-patent, Catherine and Marguerite d r Orleans, 
 daughters of Henri, Duke de Longueville, who 
 died unmarried, Marguerite in 1615, Catherine 
 in 1638, both buried in the convent whose second 
 founders they were called, the title of first founder 
 having been reserved for Marie de Medicis. And 
 when, in 1617, the young institution was already 
 strong enough to need another house at Paris, it was 
 again a Princess de Longueville who defrayed the ex 
 pense of the new establishment, in the Hue Chapon, 2 to 
 wit, the sister-in-law of Marguerite and of Catherine, 3 
 
 1 General Archives, demesnial section, 1st file, letter C: "Letters- 
 patent of King Henry IV. for the establishment of the order of the 
 nuns of Notre-Dame of Mount Carmel, verified in parliament October 
 1, 1602, at the very humble petition of our dear well-beloved cousin, 
 Demoiselle de Longueville." And in other pieces it is also said : 
 "The said lord (King Henry), favorably disposed to the petition of 
 Catherine d Orleans, daughter of the late Henri d Orleans, Duke do 
 Longueville and de Touteville. . . ." 
 
 a Since that time the convent of the Rue Saint- Jacques has been called 
 the Great Convent, to distinguish it from the house in the Rue 
 Chapon. 
 
 1 The act of donation which is in the General Archives, was made in 
 the name of the duchess dowager de Longueville, as well as in the 
 name of her son, the future husband of Anne de Bourbon. " Madame 
 Catherine de Gonzagues and do Cloves, Duchess de Longueville and 
 de Touteville, widow of 4he late very powerful prince Henri d Orleans, 
 during his life, Duke de Longueville and de Touteville, sovereign 
 Count of Neufchatel and Valengin, in Switzerland, also Count of Dunois 
 and Tancarville, etc., dwelling at Paris, in his hotel de Longueville, Ruo 
 dcs Poulies, parish of Saint-Germain de PAuxerrois, as well in his own 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 105 
 
 the widow of their brother, Henri d Orleans, first of 
 the name, and the mother of Henri II., who es 
 poused Mademoiselle de Bourbon. Madame the 
 Princess de Conde was not backward in bestowing 
 her-benefits on the convent of the Rue Saint- Jacques, 
 and she became especially attached to it. So it may 
 be said that Mademoiselle de Bourbon was, in ad 
 vance, consecrated in every way to the Carmelites. 
 
 Let us endeavor to represent what was, in the sev 
 enteenth century, the convent of the Carmelites, where 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon wished to conceal her life, 
 where Madame de Longueville returned to die. It 
 was. situated in the street of the Faubourg Saint- 
 Jacques, directly opposite to Val-de-Grace. It ex- 
 
 name as in that of Monseigneur Henri d Orleans, his son, also Duke de 
 Longueville and de Touteville." . . . Catherine de Gonzagues and 
 Cleves was sister of Charles de Gonzagues, Duke de "Nevers, the 
 father of Marie and Anne de Gonzagues, the Queen of Poland and the 
 Palatine. Her son, Henry II., exercised himself much in playing at 
 tennis, and one of his shoulders became larger and more elevated than 
 the other. All the skill of the physicians was powerless. The desolate 
 mother addressed herself to Madame Acarie, then sister Marie de 1 In- 
 carnation. She engaged in prayer previous to the holy sacrament, and 
 the next day the form of the youth was very much improved. Through 
 gratitude, the mother and son founded the house of the Rue Chapon, 
 endowed it with ten thousand crowns in silver, and two thousand livres 
 a year. The Duke de Longueville testified to this fact before the 
 Apostolic Commissioners, charged with the beatification of Madame 
 Acarie. Catherine do Gonzagues died in 1629. We find in the Ar 
 chives different acts which prove that the niece of Richelieu, Madame 
 the Duchess d Aiguillon, was also one of the benefactresses of both con 
 vents. " Marie Vignerot, Duchess d Esguillon, dwelling in her hotel, 
 situated in Saint-Germain-des-Pre s, parish of Saint-Sulpice." . . . 
 
106 CHAPTER I. 
 
 tended from the Rue Saint-Jacques to the Rue 
 d Enfer, and finally embraced, with all its depen 
 dencies, the vast space which, from the garden and 
 inclosure of the Oratorian seminary of Saint-Magloire, 
 at present the Sourds-Muets, ascends to the buildings 
 now occupied in the Rue Saint-Jacques and in the 
 Rue d Enfer, by the establishment called the brew- 
 house of Luxembourg. There w r ere two entrances, 
 one from the Rue Saint-Jacques, the other from 
 the Rue d Enfer. The entrance from the Rue d En 
 fer still exists, at ~No. 67, and is now what it .was 
 two centuries ago. It led into the existing court, 
 which served as a public passage to the Rue Saint- 
 Jacques. Almost opposite, a little to the right, 
 was the church ; a little farther to the right, on the 
 grounds where the wholly new street of Yal-de-Grace 
 has been opened, were vast gardens, with numerous 
 chapels, the monastery itself, and, entirely upon the 
 Rue d Enfer, the infirmary and the apartments re 
 served for particular persons. On the other side, to 
 the left, towards Saint-Magloire, were the different 
 main-houses of the monastery and their dependents. 1 
 
 But the monastery had thus increased only with 
 time. 
 
 The first seat of the community had been the an- 
 
 1 See Gomboust s plan of Paris, in 1652, and the plan called Target s, 
 of Paris, in 1740. 
 
 
M LLE DE BOUKBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 107 
 
 cient priory of Notre-Dame-des-Champs, whose church 
 was of the time of Hugh Capet, and, according to 
 ancient tradition, was established upon the ruins of a 
 temple of Ceres, where Saint Denis had already taken 
 refuge when he preached the gospel at Paris. At 
 least, excavations made in 1630, have brought to light 
 some remains of pagan antiquity. There was, there 
 fore, already some mystery about the new establish 
 ment at the beginning of the seventeenth century. 1 
 
 1 See Malingre, Antiques de la Ville de Paris, in-fol., Paris, 1640, pp. 
 152 and 153, also pp. 501 and 503, Nouveaux Memoircs concernant la mai- 
 son des Carmelites; a few lines in the Histoire de la Ville de Paris of 
 Felibien and of Lobineau, vol. ii., pp. 12fi8-1271, and some records in 
 vol. iii. of thePreuves et Pieces justificative*, p. 144. Sauval contains 
 but a page on the Carmelites, vol. i., p. 450. The best thing in regard 
 to this convent is found in the Curiosities de Paris, 1771, vol. i., pp. 
 459-463. We take from it the following description of the church : 
 " Although the main body of this church is very ancient, it is one of 
 the best decorated in Paris. The great altar is formed of four mar 
 ble columns, and is reached by twelve steps, very ingeniously placed, 
 with a balustrade of marble. All the ornaments of this altar are of 
 bronze gilded ; the tabernacle, which represents the ark of the cove 
 nant, is all of silver ; the bas-relief in front is highly wrought, and 
 represents the Annunciation. Nothing is more sumptuous than this 
 altar on feast-days. You then see a sun, bright with stones of great 
 value, accompanied by candlesticks, vases, and other pieces of gold 
 smith s ware, whose quantity equals its magnificence. The picture is 
 by Guido, and represents the Annunciation. 
 
 " The choir is separated from the nave by four beautiful columns of 
 sea-green marble, surmounted by flames of gilded bronze of wonderful 
 beauty and size. The crucifix of bronze, which you see on the door, is 
 one of the best and highly esteemed of the works of Sarrazin. 
 
 ; The vault of the church, upon which numerous stories from the Holy 
 Scriptures are represented, was painted by Champagne, through the 
 liberality of Marie de Medicis. Observe in it an excellent piece of per- 
 
108 CHAPTER I. 
 
 If it was the Spanish Carmelites who founded the 
 convent of the Rue Saint-Jacques, and established 
 there the spirit and rule of Saint Theresa, it must be 
 
 spective, designed by DCS Argues : it is a crucifix, with the Holy Virgin 
 and St. John, so artistically painted by the same Champagne, that, on 
 entering the church, they appear upon a perpendicular plane, although 
 horizontal, which produces an agreeable and singular effect. 
 
 "Above the door of this church there is a beautiful gallery, contain 
 ing statues of Saint Peter, of Saint Paul, and of Saint Michael overcom 
 ing the devil. 
 
 " All the chapels are magnificent : the most beautiful pictures and 
 gildings adorn all parts of it ; neatness and good taste reign through 
 out. 
 
 " The twelve pictures ornamented with gilded frames, which are placed 
 under the windows, represent subjects drawn from the New Testa 
 ment, and were painted by very skilful masters. The first, at the right 
 on entering, represents the .Resurrection of Lazarus ; the second, TJie 
 Circumcision of our Lord; the third, The Adoration of the Magi; the 
 fourth, The Assumption of the Holy Virgin; the fifth, The Descent of the 
 Holy Ghost upon the Apostles ; the sixth, The Birth of our Lord. These 
 six pictures were also painted by the celebrated Champagne, and are very 
 highly esteemed. On the other side, the first represents the Miracle of 
 the Five Loaves, by Stella ; the second, The Madeline at the feet of our 
 Lord, at the house of Simon thePharisee it is one of the finest works of the 
 famous Le Brun ; the third, The Entry of Jesus Christ into Jerusalem, by 
 La Hire ; the fourth, Christ at tlie side of Jacob s well, talking with tlw 
 Samaritan ^uoman, by Stella ; the fifth, Christ served in tlie Desert by 
 Angels this is also by Le Brun ; the sixth, The Appearance of our Lord 
 to the three Marys, by La Hire. 
 
 Opposite to the choir of the nuns, observe the great picture repre 
 senting the Annunciation ; it is an excellent work by Guido, who painted 
 it for Queen Marie de Medicis. 
 
 " Look afterwards at the chapel of Sainte-Marie-Madeleine ; it is one of 
 the most ornamented. You will there see the statue of Cardinal de 
 Berulle, made in marble by Sarrazin, in 1657 ; it is raised upon a marble 
 pedestal, upon which are excellent bas-relief*, by Lestocart, a famous 
 sculptor. These bas-reliefs represent the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, 
 and that also performed by Noah, when he left the ark. You will also 
 seo in this chapel, all covered with pictures, one of the most perfect 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 109 
 
 remembered that, those nuns having left France in 
 1618, to return to Spain, or to end their days in Bel 
 gium in the monasteries of their order, it was the 
 French genius which early took possession of the 
 convent of the Kue Saint- Jacques, and made it what 
 it became. 
 
 In the number of the prioresses who governed it, 
 may be distinguished four, who aided the rising con 
 gregation to advance rapidly towards the perfection 
 which it attained at the close of the seventeenth cen 
 tury. These were Mademoiselle de Fontaines, the 
 Mother Madeleine de Saint- Joseph ; the Marchioness 
 de Breaute, Marie de Jesus ; Mademoiselle Lancri 
 de Bains, Marie-Madeleine ; and Mademoiselle Belle- 
 fonds, the Mother Agnes de Jesus-Maria. Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon knew them all, and some of 
 them were her friends. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Fontaines was the first French head- 
 prioress. She was of an excellent family of Touraine. 
 Her father had been ambassador to Flanders, and her 
 mother was sister to the wife of Sillery the chancellor. 
 It was the Cardinal de Berulle who, meeting her at 
 
 paintings ever produced by the famous Le Brun ; it represents the Pen 
 itent Madeleine. Grief and repentance are so vividly expressed in this, 
 and the skill of the excellent master so well proved by all the accom 
 paniments, that you can find nothing more finished and more perfect. 
 The life of this saint is represented in the wainscot of this beautiful 
 chapel." 
 
 10 
 
HO CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tours, and seeing her there young and already filled 
 with holy thoughts, pointed out to her the Carmelites 
 of the Rue Saint-Jacques as the way to the perfec 
 tion after which she aspired. She did not walk 
 thither, but ran, as Madame Acarie says of her. 
 And yet she loved her family so tenderly that she 
 felf a poignant grief in leaving it, and, as she herself 
 said at a subsequent period, the coach that took her 
 to the Carmelites seemed to her like a car that carries 
 criminals to punishment. Touched by her example, 
 two of her sisters followed her to the Carmelites. 1 
 She joined them at twenty-six years of age. For 
 some time she had before her the Spanish mothers, 
 and from them caught that holy ardor which ex 
 cites and vivifies, and can alone surmount the difficult 
 commencements of every great establishment. She 
 was constantly faithful to the device of Saint Theresa : 
 Endure or die. She is the Saint Theresa of France. 
 The nun who succeeded her has thus painted the 
 effects of the government of Mother Madeleine de 
 Saint-Joseph : " When she was prioress, I can truly 
 say the monastery resembled a paradise, so much fer 
 vor and desire for perfection of heart was seen. The 
 question was who should be the most humble, the 
 most penitent, the most subdued, the most collected, 
 
 1 Hlstoire manuscrite, t. ii. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. Ill 
 
 the most meditative, the most solitary, the most char 
 itable ; in brief, who should be most conformed to our 
 Lord Jesus Christ ; and all this, too, with a peace, an 
 innocence, a beatitude, and an elevation to God that 
 surpass the power of expression. This servant of God 
 was among us like a torch that gave us light, like a 
 fire that warmed us, a living rule by whose exam 
 ple we could learn how to become saints." Some 
 admirable words of hers have been preserved. We . 
 will cite but a single sentence : " Yes," said she to 
 her daughters, who for the most part were of high 
 rank, " yes, we are of a very good house ; we are 
 daughters of a king, sfeters of a king, spouses of a 
 king ; for we are the daughters of the Father Eternal, 
 the sisters of Christ, and the spouses of the Holy 
 Spirit." She had one of those great hearts that make 
 heroes of every kind, and which are the primary source 
 of miracles. She therefore performed miracles like 
 Saint Theresa : like her she had ecstasies and visions. 
 It was the heart in her that warmed the imagination, 
 and, in fact, the heart is the sacred source of all great 
 things. What 1 philosophy would interpose here its 
 
 1 We have elsewhere established hat of the three sources of human 
 knowledge, intuition, induction, and deduction, the first is much the 
 most fertile and the most elevated. It is intuition, which, by its own 
 spontaneous power, discovers directly and without the aid of reflection, 
 all essential truths ; it is the source of light to the human race ; the 
 voice that speaks to prophets and poets ; the principle of all inspira- 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 % 
 
 miserable objections ! Be on your guard; those ob 
 jections would turn against Socrates and his demon, 
 as well as against the good angel of Mother Made 
 leine de Saint -Joseph. That good angel was at 
 least the inner vision, the secret and truly marvellous 
 voice of a great soul. 
 
 Mother Madeleine de Saint- Joseph was born in 
 1578, entered the convent in 1604, pronounced her 
 vows in 1605, and died in 1637. 1 
 
 Marie de Jesus is a nun of a wholly different char 
 acter. 
 
 Charlotte de Sancy was daughter of Nicolas de 
 Harlay, Lord de Sancy, who 1 was under Henri IY. 
 ambassador, superintendent of the finances, and 
 colonel of the Swiss. The two sons of Harlay de 
 Sancy, after having occupied important positions, re 
 tired to the Oratoire. His first daughter was mar 
 ried to M. d Alincourt, grandfather of Duke de Ville- 
 roy ; the second, Charlotte, was married to the Mar- 
 
 tion of enthusiasm, and of that unalterable and sure faith, that as 
 tonishes reasoning which is compelled to treat it as a folly, because it 
 cannot account for it by its ordinary processes. Seethe CoursdePhl- 
 losophie, particularly, First Series, vol. v., p. 301 ; and Second Series, 
 vol. i., Lecture vi., pp. 131-141, etc. 
 
 1 See the Vie de la Mere Madeleine d# Saint- Joseph, religieuse Carmtlite 
 dechaussee, by a priest of the Oratoire (Father Senault) : Paris, 1655, 
 in-4. There is a second edition, of 1670, augmented. The Car 
 melites still have the head of their venerable mother. It is powerful and 
 large. A portrait of her, preserved by the convent, exhibits in her 
 face great strength of character. It has been many times engraved. 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 113 
 
 quis de Breaute. Having remained a widow twenty- 
 one years beautiful, 1 spirituelle, of a charming 
 temper, she was the delight of her family, and one of 
 the ornaments of the court of Henri IY. Two cir 
 cumstances conspired to snatch her from the pleasures 
 that surrounded her. One day, at Spa, while dancing 
 at a ball during a storm, she heard a clap of thun 
 der, and wished to retire. The gentleman who was 
 her partner laughed at her fright, and retained her. 
 At the same instant the thunder again sounded, 
 and the man by her side was- struck dead. Some 
 time afterwards she met with the writings of Saint 
 Theresa, read them, and was so touched by them, 
 that, young as she was, she resolved at once to quit 
 the world. She entered among the Carmelites, 
 and took the veil, under the name of Marie de 
 Jesus, the same year with Mademoiselle de Fon 
 taines. She preserved in the cloister that winning 
 gentleness which, in the world, added to the effect of 
 her beauty, and subjected to her all hearts. She 
 was adored by her new companions, as she had been 
 at the court. Her particular gift was, with sweetness 
 and humility, a boundless charity, which was espe 
 cially exercised in the salvation of souls. She excelled 
 
 1 The Carmelites have a small portrait, painted on wood, of Mother 
 Marie de Jesus, somewhat advanced in life, but of a noble and sweet 
 visage. It has been engraved by Kegnesson. 
 
 10* 
 
1H 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 in the art of bringing sinners to God. These were her 
 miracles. Here is one of them that the tradition of 
 the Carmelites has preserved for us i 1 
 
 A man of merit, who possessed goods and impor 
 tant occupations, formed a culpable connection. His 
 mother was in distress about it, and often went to 
 pour her grief into the bosom of her daughter, a nun 
 at the convent of the Eue Saint-Jacques. One day 
 when she was in the parlor, Marie de Jesus was in 
 spired to go to her and console her. She gave her 
 Saint Augustine s Confessions and Saint Theresa s 
 Way to Perfection, asking her to make her son prom 
 ise to read them for a quarter of a hour only every 
 morning. He made the promise, but did not keep it 
 for eight days. One night, feeling urged to keep 
 his word, he arose and read some pages of these 
 books. As he continued reading, God enlightened 
 him, and so touched him, that he shed tears for sev 
 eral hours, troubled arid agitated lest he should lose 
 the Holy Spirit. Finally, he became calm, and, dur 
 ing several nights, was penetrated, and, as it were, 
 inundated with light in regard to the perfection of, 
 God. One morning, at the break of day, he drove 
 to the Place de Grenelle with the person who held 
 him captive. There he announced to her that he 
 
 1 Histoire manu-scrUe, vol. ii. 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 115 
 
 should never see her again. He left her his carriage 
 to drive where she wished. Returning home on 
 foot, he went to the Carmelites to visit his sister, 
 whom he had not seen for many years. She called 
 Marie de Jesus, and said to her brother : Behold your 
 benefactress ! Marie de Jesus had not ceased to pray 
 for him. She lavished upon him the most affection 
 ate counsels, which she renewed regularly once a 
 week for several years. He followed them with 
 great docility, and made such progress in virtue, that, 
 giving up his charge, and renouncing all the pleas 
 ures of life, he retired into a country-place, lived there 
 in penitence, and died in the love of God. 
 w Marie de Jesus was loved much by Anne of Aus 
 tria, who often went to see her, accompanied by 
 Louis XI Y. and his brother the Duke d Anjou. She 
 contributed largely to the aggrandizement and embel 
 lishment of the monastery, which lost her in 1652. 
 
 In the year 1620, the Carmelites acquired a wor 
 thy sister in one of the maids of honor of Queen 
 Marie de Medicis, Mademoiselle Marie Laxicri de 
 Bains. In order to show what Mademoiselle de 
 Bains was, we shall avail ourselves of a manuscript 
 life, composed by a Carmelite who knew her per 
 fectly well. 1 
 
 1 Histoire manuscrite, vol. ii. 
 
116 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Madame de Bains had her daughter brought up 
 among the Ursulines : she removed her from their 
 charge at the age of twelve years, to place her at 
 court, hoping that her beauty and acquirements might 
 procure for her an establishment, little reflecting upon 
 the perils to which she exposed her by leaving her 
 to herself in a place so full of dangers. But God, 
 who had already appropriated this soul, kept watch 
 over her, and preserved her, without a stain, in the 
 midst of that court. Her virtue was there admired as 
 much as her perfect beauty ; her portrait passed even 
 into foreign lands, where the most famous painters 
 ernulously drew it, in order to exhibit the skill of 
 their pencil. She afterwards declared that until the 
 age of fifteen years, she never reflected upon this 
 advantage, but that she then saw herself with the 
 same eyes as the public. The attractions of her per 
 son, and still more her sweetness and modesty, won 
 the esteem and affection of the queen. Mademoiselle 
 de Bains never gloried in any thing but in doing 
 good to the unfortunate. This generosity had its 
 source in a noble, tender, constant heart, united 
 with a mind solid, judicious, capable of great 
 things ; and it seemed as if the Creator had been 
 pleased to prepare in this masterpiece of nature the 
 triumph of grace. So many amiable qualities at 
 tracted the attention of the whole court. A number 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 117 
 
 of lords, as the Duke de Bellegarde, the Marshal de 
 Saint-Luc, etc., sued for an alliance so desirable. 
 But He who had elected her from all eternity for his 
 bride, did not allow that heart, worthy of himself 
 alone, to be shared by any creature. Divine Provi 
 dence continued to bring upon her at the same time 
 some mortification (we are ignorant of its nature), 
 which began to open her eyes, and to give her some 
 slight idea of a calling for the religious life." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bains never accompanied the 
 Queen Marie de Medicis to the Carmelites, without 
 wishing to remain there. A sickness which she had 
 at eighteen years of age, redoubled her fervor, but she 
 was opposed by the efforts of the whole court to re 
 tain her, especially by the entreaties and tears of her 
 mother. When Mademoiselle de Bains threw her 
 self among the Carmelites, at scarcely twenty years 
 of age, her mother followed her thither. " She con 
 ducted her daughter to the bottom of the garden, 
 and there, during three whole hours, employed all 
 the persuasives that tenderest love could suggest. 
 After having exhausted endearments, and tried to 
 move her conscience by telling her that it was her 
 duty to help her widowed mother in her old age, 
 finally, getting beside herself, she fell at the feet 
 of her daughter, drowned in tears. What a trial 
 for Mademoiselle de Bains, who loved that tender 
 
118 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 mother as much as she was loved by her ! Her 
 recourse to God enabled her to come out victorious 
 from that first contest, which was not the last, for, 
 during the entire period of her novitiate, Madame 
 her mother often returned to the charge." 
 
 For some time the convent of the Kue Saint- 
 Jacques was besieged by noblemen of the first rank, 
 who went to offer their alliance to the beautiful 
 novice. Her constancy was not in the least shaken, 
 and she would have refused all these visits if the 
 mother prioress had not, in order to prove her, con 
 strained her to receive them. She pronounced her 
 vows in 1620, under the name of Marie-Madeleine de 
 Jesus. 
 
 Her beauty must have had something very extra 
 ordinary in it, to judge by the following anecdote, 
 related by the pious author of whom we avail our 
 selves : " Humility being the foundation of every 
 spiritual edifice, Sister Marie-Madeleine de Jesus 
 seized with avidity every means of destroying, in her 
 own eyes and in the eyes of others, the gifts of nature 
 and of grace with which God had favored her. 
 She was not contented with refusing the visits of the 
 great, as well as of all her friends, but desirous of 
 being forgotten, and of removing from their sight 
 every thing that might remind them of her, she en 
 deavored, under different pretexts, to recall her por- 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 119 
 
 traits from their hands, in order to burn them. One of 
 these portraits having been sent to Mother Madeleine 
 Saint- Joseph, she amused herself by showing it to the 
 assembled community. At the sight of it all the 
 nuns, not recognizing it at first, were touched, and 
 besought God not to leave in the world that master 
 piece of nature, worthy of himself alone, but to be 
 stow her upon Carmel. One of them, Marie de Saint- 
 Theresa, daughter of Madame Acarie, offered herself 
 to God, to suffer every thing that it might please him 
 to inflict in return for such a grace. Then Mother 
 Madeleine de Saint-Joseph, smiling and touching her 
 on the shoulder, told her that the goodness of God 
 had anticipated her desires, that the person for 
 whom she trembled was already in the order, and 
 that it was only necessary to ask for her perse 
 verance." 1 
 
 Sister Marie-Madeleine passed rapidly through all 
 the grades of the order. Elected prioress in 1635, 
 and often re-elected, she witnessed, in 1637, the death 
 of the venerable Mother Madeleine de Saint- Joseph, 
 in 1652 the death of Mother Marie de Jesus, and suc- 
 
 1 The Carmelites were very willing to let me see the portrait, painted 
 upon canvas, of Mother Marie-Madeleine, which does not belie her rep 
 utation for beauty. The face is of the most perfect oval ; the eyes are 
 of the finest and deepest blue ; the forehead is noble ; the general aspect 
 is full of grandeur and grace. It would be difficult to find any thing 
 more beautiful. 
 
120 CHAPTER I. 
 
 cessively the death of the head visitors of the order and 
 of the instructors of the holy monastery. 1 The wars of 
 the Fronde were to her a perilous trial, wherein she 
 often found herself sharing danger with Queen Anne 
 and the Princess de Conde, the two protectresses of the 
 convent. She was obliged to quit for some time the 
 house in the Rue Saint-Jacques, which was too much 
 exposed to the soldiery, to send a part of the commu 
 nity to Pontoise, and to take the rest to the Rue 
 Chapon. It required great firmness to maintain 
 religious discipline in the midst of such trouble. 
 Through fear of the least abatement, she continually 
 applied herself to renew the fervor of the primitive 
 spirit in the souls committed to her charge. It is 
 said that she then spoke to her daughters with words 
 of fire, which filled them with a holy emulation. She 
 displayed usually a sweet and majestic cheerfulness, 
 a charming affability, with an intrepidity that was 
 proof against every trial when the question was con- 
 
 1 We will mention the best known of the general visitors of the 
 order: in 1614, the Cardinal de Berulle; in 1619, Father de Condren, 
 the second general of the Oratoire ; in 1627, the Abbe de Berulle, 
 nephew of the cardinal, etc. Among the superiors of the monastery, 
 we find, in the earlier period, Father Gibieuf, a learned oratorien, 
 one of the correspondents of Descartes ; later, in 1662, M. Ferret, doctor 
 in theology, and curate of Saint- Nicholas-du-Chardonnet; in 1678, M. 
 Pirot, a doctor of the S<7TT>onne ; in 1715, M. Vivant, grand vicar of Car 
 dinal de Noailles; in 1747, the Bishop of Bethlehem, celebrated for 
 having extirpated Jansenism, which had been introduced among the 
 Carmelites at the close of the preceding century. 
 
DE BOl ltBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 121 
 
 earning the interests of God, of those of the order, 
 or of the salvation of souls. On such occasions, says 
 our manuscript, without being surprised or arrested, 
 she would have overcome a world of opposition, and 
 sacrificed her own life. So much virtue united with 
 so much sensibility, had acquired for her such an 
 ascendancy over the hearts and minds of her daugh 
 ters, that one of them wrote that if she had under 
 taken to persuade them that white was black and day 
 night, they would have believed her, so thoroughly 
 were they convinced that she could not be deceived. 
 In fine, she possessed in the highest degree the gift of 
 governing. It was to her that so many persons of 
 highest birth, wounded or repentant hearts, intrusted 
 themselves, seeking refuge among the Carmelites. 
 
 Marie- Madeleine, born in 1598, lived a long time, 
 and died in 1679, the same year with Madame de 
 Longueville. She had found an admirable assistant 
 in Mademoiselle de Bellefonds. 
 
 Judith de Bellefonds was bom in 1611. Her 
 father, governor of Caen, was the grandfather of the 
 marshal of that name. Her mother was the sister of 
 the wife of Marshal de Saint-Geran, and she herself 
 was sister to the Marchioness de Yillars, mother of the 
 vanquisher of Denain, celebrated for graces of mind. 1 
 
 1 Her letters from Spain to Madame de Coulanges, are, for attractive 
 ness of style, much superior to those of Madame des Ursins. Letters 
 
 11 
 
122 CHAPTER I. 
 
 She was as handsome 1 as her mother, as spirit- 
 uelle as her sister, and she possessed all the requisites 
 for pleasing. She had the greatest success at the 
 court of Queen Marie de Medicis. Going with her 
 to the Carmelites, she met Madame de Breaute, 
 Marie de Jesus, who, like her, had known all the at 
 tractions of the world, and by her entreaties and her 
 example persuaded her to renounce it, and to give 
 herself to God alone. Mademoiselle de Bellefonds 
 joined the Carmelites in 1629, at seventeen years 
 of age, choosing Saint Agnes as her patron saint, 
 from whom she took the name of Agnes de Jesus- 
 Maria. Her first years at the convent being spent 
 with Mother Madeleine de Saint-Joseph, w r ho had 
 become very infirm, she was penetrated with the 
 spirit of that great servant of God, and promptly 
 showed all the qualities requisite for a great prioress. 
 She was elected sub-prioress at thirty years of age, 
 prioress three years afterwards, and she discharged 
 the duties of one or the other of these offices for 
 thirty-two years, her life being prolonged until near 
 the close of the century. She found the FrenchCar- 
 
 de Madame do Villars, etc., Paris, 1806 and 1823, and what Madame de 
 Sevigne says of her, letters of October 8, 1679, and February 28, 1680. 
 
 1 The painted portrait that has been shown me, represents her in fact 
 as having the most happy face, with charming blue eyes and beautiful 
 forehead, and a look at once lively and agreeable. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 123 
 
 mel established by the eminent virtues of those who 
 had preceded her she had simply to sustain it. Her 
 dominant qualities were firmness and moderation. 
 With equal facility she dealt with great and small 
 things; always mistress of herself, even-tempered, 
 sensible, and enlightened, speaking of every thing 
 with justice and simplicity, and removing difficulties 
 with an astonishing precision. She who, by the ele 
 vation and charms of her mind, seemed born only 
 for the people of the world and important things, 
 was still more admirable with the simple and the 
 poor. She used their ills, to which she was sensi 
 ble, to elevate them to God, yet ceased not in her 
 endeavors to console them. The happy also found 
 near her protection against the dangers of fortune. 
 The Queen of England, in the midst of her terrible 
 trials, often went to the Carmelites to find consola 
 tion with Mother Agnes. The chancellor, Le Tellier, 
 often consulted her. Courted on all sides for the 
 charm of her conversation, she sought solitude, and 
 endeavored to make it loved by her companions. 
 Mademoiselle de Guise having offered 100,000 livres 
 to obtain the privilege of often entering the con 
 vent, Mother Agnes refused that sum, saying that 
 100,000 livres could not repair the injury thereby 
 certain to be done to the spirit of the institution, 
 which can be preserved only by seclusion and sep- 
 
124 CUAPTEIt I. 
 
 aration from the world. Her charity was such 
 that after her death the mother who succeeded her, 
 being blamed for bestowing alms a little too freely, 
 replied : " You are very fortunate that Mother Agnes 
 is no more ; she would have left on this occasion 
 neither communion-cup nor vessel of silver in our 
 church." It must be perceived in Madame de 
 Sevigne, how much she made of Mother Agnes : 
 " I was ravished," wrote she to her daughter, 1 
 " with the spirit of Mother Agnes." Elsewhere she 
 speaks of the vivacity and the charm of her speech. 2 
 But all eulogies pale before that touching letter of 
 Bossuet, written to the prioress who succeeded her : 3 
 " We shall then see her no more, that dear mother ; 
 we shall no longer hear from her mouth those words 
 that charity, that gentleness, that faith, that prudence 
 dictated and rendered worthy of being listened to. 4 
 This w r as the sensible person who believed in the law 
 of God, and faithfully kept it. Prudence was her 
 companion, Wisdom her sister. The joy of the Holy 
 Spirit did not leave her. Her balance was always 
 just ; her judgments were always right. Her coun 
 sels never led astray ; they were preceded by her 
 
 1 Letter of January 5, 1680. 
 
 8 Letter of November 22, 1688. 
 
 8 Edition of Lebel, vol. xxxix., p. 690. 
 
 4 Varying from our manuscripts : weighed. 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 125 
 
 example. Her death was tranquil as her life, and 
 she rejoiced in the last day. I thank yon for re 
 membering me upon this sad occasion. My spirit 
 unites with yours in the prayers and sacrifices that 
 are offered for that soul blessed of God anti men. 
 I join you in the pious tears that you shed upon her 
 tomb, and take part in the consolations with which 
 faith inspires you." 
 
 Such was the convent where Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon received those impressions that decided her 
 whole life ; such were the women whom she saw 
 and heard, when she accompanied the princess her 
 mother to the sacred house. She perceived, more 
 over, the venerable looks, the already transfigured 
 face of Mother Madeleine de Saint-Joseph, and lis 
 tened to her powerful speech, for Mother de Saint- 
 Joseph was the friend and counsellor of-Madame the 
 Princess. She felt, too, the penetrating sweetness of 
 the conversation of Marie de Jesus. She knew that 
 Marie-Madeleine, who was so dangerous in the world 
 by her beauty, so edifying and powerful in the cloister. 
 With her she formed a connection which ceased only 
 with life. But it was, above all, Mademoiselle de 
 Bellefonds, the Mother Agnes, who attracted and 
 charmed her. They were almost of the same age, 
 and the free and joyous temper of the young and 
 spiritual nun established between them, at an early 
 11*. 
 
126 CHAPTER I. 
 
 period, an intimacy whose traces are found even in 
 the letters subsequently addressed by the unfortunate 
 and repentant princess to the great prioress, wholly 
 occupied with her difficult duties. The following 
 note, 1 written during their youth, will give an idea 
 of the intimacy of their relation, and show the 
 natural graces of Mademoiselle de Bourbon s mind. 
 It bears the date of 1637. She was then seventeen 
 years of age. These are the earliest lines of hers that 
 we have been able to find. Did Marie de Rabutin 
 write in a more amiable manner at the same age ? 
 
 " To MY SISTER AGNS DE J^sus- MARIA. 
 
 " MY VERY DEAR SlSTER I 
 
 " I write this to you to give you a severe repri 
 mand. I think you will be much astonished at it ; 
 but it seems to me that I am not wrong. I must tell 
 you, in order not to leave you any longer in suspense, 
 that, since the death 2 of our blessed mother (Made 
 leine de Saint- Joseph), our mother (Marie-Madeleine) 
 has promised me her picture. It is three or four 
 days since I reminded her of this promise, and she 
 has sent me word that it was not her fault, but that 
 
 1 An autograph billet, for which we are indebted to the Carmelite 
 ladies. 
 
 a This fixes the date of the note : it is therefore a little while after the 
 death of Mother Madeleine de Saint-Joseph ; that is, in 1687. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 127 
 
 you had prevented her from giving me what she 
 had promised, and that I must tease you for it. I 
 am therefore resolved to give you no peace until 
 you put me in possession of the portrait. If you wish, 
 I will allow you to have it copied, but if you are not 
 quick about it, you will see that we shall be on bad 
 terms. You know that it would not take much to em 
 broil us, since we are very much inclined to hate each 
 other. It seems to me that I have gone bravely 
 through my reprimand, and that it is very severe. 
 I think it will put you in great alarm, and you will 
 consequently be in much fear of losing my good 
 graces. 1 . . . When the picture is finished, send to 
 me for whatever it costs. (Take care), if you please, 
 to have it made very near the size of that of my Sis 
 ter Catherine 2 de Jesus, or a little larger. 
 
 "Your very affectionate sister and servant, 
 
 "ANNE DE BOURBON." 
 
 And observe that I have here spoken only of the 
 most eminent prioresses, without saying a word of so 
 many other nuns of the highest rank and the most 
 
 1 Several lines effaced and wholly illegible, and half of a page cut. 
 
 3 Mademoiselle Nicolas, born at Bordeaux, agreeable in person and 
 mind, say our manuscripts, and pleasing to everybody. Having read, 
 when quite a child, the Life of Catherine de Sienne, she devoted herself 
 to imitating her, and joined the Carmelites at nineteen, and died at 
 thirty-three. There is a small portrait of her, very well made, repre 
 senting her in ecstasy. 
 
128 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 amiable character, who were in the convent of the 
 Rue Saint-Jacques during the youth of Madame de 
 Longueville : Madame Seguier d Autry, mother of 
 Chancellor Seguier, the Mother Marie de Jesus- 
 Christ ; Madame La Rochefoucauld de Chandenier, 
 Sister Marie de Saint-Joseph; Mademoiselle Le 
 Bouthillier, Sister Philippe de Saint-Paul; Made 
 moiselle d Anglure de Bourlemont, niece of Pope 
 Urban VIII., Sister Genevieve des Anges ; Madame 
 de Brienne, the Mother Anne de Saint- Joseph ; the 
 Countess de Bury, left a widow at nineteen years of 
 age, Sister Madeleine de Jesus ; Mademoiselle de 
 Lenoneourt, the Mother Charlotte de Jesus ; Made 
 moiselle de Fieubet, Mesdemoiselles de Marillac, and 
 somewhat later, names still more illustrious, hearts 
 still nearer that of Mademoiselle de Bourbon, who, at 
 the first impressions of passion or unhappiness, sought 
 an asylum in the holy solitude. 
 
 Among those noble penitents, we must distinguish 
 a particular friend of Madame de Longueville, whose 
 rank was nearly equal to her own, w r ho w r as, like her, 
 sensitive and proud, who, wounded early in her affec 
 tions, retired from the w r orld before her, and heard 
 the noise of the Fronde only through the walls of the 
 convent of the Rue Saint-Jacques, where, several 
 years before, she had fled the threat of a throne and 
 the perils of her own heart. That friend to whom 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 129 
 
 Madame de Longueville wrote more than one letter, 
 was Sister Anne-Marie de Jesus, that is, Anne Louise- 
 Christine de Foix de La Yalette d Epernon, sister of 
 the Duke de Candale, daughter of Bernard, Duke de 
 La Yalette d Epernon, and of Gabrielle de Bourbon, 
 legitimate daughter of the Duchess de Yerneuil and 
 Henri IY. 
 
 We have a sufficiently full life of Mademoiselle 
 d Epernon, from the hand of the Abbe de Montis. 1 
 But edifying lives must be distrusted almost as 
 much as the histories of Tallemant des Reaux. This 
 person looks for scandal only, and nowhere sees 
 any thing but the evil. The pious panegyrists are 
 quite as credulous in regard to the good. Evidently 
 the Abbe de Montis did not know every thing, or 
 was unwilling to tell every thing. He seems to 
 have read neither the Memoirs of Mademoiselle nor 
 those of Madame de Motteville. He paints with 
 truth the person and the character of Mademoiselle 
 d Epernon. He is deceived when he imagines that 
 the instinct of Christian perfection alone led her to 
 the Carmelites. This instinct was nourished and sup 
 ported by the experience of the vanity of human 
 affections ; it shone forth, and suddenly threw Made 
 moiselle d Epernon among the Carmelites, in conse- 
 
 1 Paris, 1774, in-12. 
 
130 CHAPTER I. 
 
 quence of a cruel loss, the death of a person to 
 whom she had given her heart. This death, with 
 the great error that preceded it, induced her to quit 
 the world ; and neither the long resistance of her 
 family, nor even the hope of a crown could change 
 her resolution. 
 
 For the sake of brevity, we shall confine ourselves 
 to the collection of a limited amount of testimony. 
 That of the veracious Madame de Motteville is deci 
 sive : " The Chevalier de Fiesque, who was killed 
 at the siege of Mardyck, in 1646, had, according to 
 the opinion of his friends, great spirit and valor. He 
 was regretted by a young lady of high birth, who 
 honored him with a tender and virtuous friendship. 
 I know nothing of it in particular ; but, according to 
 the general opinion, it was founded upon piety and 
 virtue, and consequently somewhat unusual. This 
 virtuous lady began, soon after the death of De 
 Fiesque, to { despise the pleasures of the world, and 
 finally forsook them all, as unworthy to occupy a 
 place in her soul ; she gave herself to God, entering 
 the great convent of the Carmelites, where her pious 
 life is an example to all." 1 
 
 Mademoiselle, 2 who knew Mademoiselle d Epernon 
 well, and loved her tenderly, takes up matters farther 
 
 1 Vol. 1st, p. 369. a ibid., p. 74. 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 131 
 
 back : " It was principally at these balls (during the 
 winter of 1644), that the Chevalier de Guise (after 
 wards the Duke de Joyeuse) testified, without any 
 reserve, his passion for Mademoiselle d Epernon. . . . 
 The malady 1 of Mademoiselle d Epernon gave me 
 much pain. The Chevalier de Guise took every care 
 of her imaginable. The danger to be apprehended 
 in approaching those who have the small-pox, did 
 not hinder him from visiting her every day. He 
 manifested for her an incredible passion, which lasted 
 during the whole of the following winter." The 
 marriage failed ; not at all, as the Abbe Montis says, 
 through the refusal or the indecision of Mademoi 
 selle d Epernon, but through the intrigues of Made 
 moiselle de Guise, who tried to marry her brother to 
 Mademoiselle d Angouleme. 
 
 After the death of Chevalier de Fiesque, killed at 
 the siege of Mardyck, Mademoiselle d Epernon ap 
 peared wholly changed. She, so recently given up to 
 display, so carried away with pleasures, no longer 
 thought of any thing but her own salvation, " which 
 displeased and surprised me," says Mademoiselle. 2 
 " I had seen her very far from the austerity which 
 she was continually preaching ; she no longer spoke 
 of any thing but death, contempt for the world, and 
 
 1 Vol. 1st, p. 79. 2 Ibid., p. 124. 
 
132 CHAPTER I. 
 
 the happiness of the religious life. . . . The morning 
 of her departure for Bordeaux (whither she was called 
 by her father, Governor of Guyenne), which was the 
 day of Saint Theresa, she came to bid me adieu. 
 She found me in bed ; fell upon, her knees by my 
 side, and told me that the goodness which I had al 
 ways shown towards her, and the reciprocal confidence 
 which had existed between us, obliged her to reveal 
 to me the resolution which she had taken of joining 
 the Carmelites, and the hope she entertained of car 
 rying this resolution into execution. Such was my ten 
 derness for her, that I could not help being moved. 
 Touched by her design, I could not speak of it with 
 out weeping. I used every reason that I could to 
 dissuade her from it. ... She had already taken her 
 resolution too firmly to listen to any thing that might 
 change it. ... The cardinal had been consulted 1 con 
 cerning the marriage of Prince Casimir, brother of 
 the King of Poland, 2 and now himself king, with 
 Mademoiselle d Epernon. ... I confess, that when 
 I heard this news, I had the greatest joy. Although 
 the emperor was married, he had a son, who was 
 King of Hungary, of an age proportionate to mine, 
 
 1 Vol. 1st, p. 146. 
 
 2 The King of Poland, Wladislas, had just espoused Marie de Gon- 
 zague, daughter of the Duke de Nevers, sister of the Palatine. After 
 the death of this first husband, she passed with the crown to hi 
 brother Casimir, whom Mademoiselle d Epernon had refused. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG TIIK CARMELITES. 133 
 
 and a prince of good promise. Thus the proximity of 
 Germany and Poland made me believe that my good 
 friend and myself might pass our days together. She 
 would be amply avenged of Mademoiselle de Guise 
 and M. de Joyeuse. In this affair there was nothing 
 to displease me ; and it may be seen from the man 
 ner in which I wrote to her concerning it, that I 
 strove to hinder her from becoming a Carmelite. 
 The conjuncture was most favorable. . .- . The devo 
 tion of Mademoiselle d Epernon defeated this design, 
 and she preferred the crown of thorns to that of Po 
 land. Although she seemed to receive this proposi 
 tion as a high honor, she feigned sickness, and caused 
 the waters of Bourbon to be prescribed for her, in 
 order to enter the first convent of the Carmelites 
 that she should find on the way. . . . Madame 
 d Epernon 1 took her on this journey in utter ignor 
 ance of her design. They proceeded to Bourges, 
 where the next day she joined the Carmelites. Here 
 she took the habit with one of the domestics of Ma 
 dame d Epernon. . . . She wrote me from Bourges, 
 
 1 Her mother-in-law, Marie de Cambout, niece of Richelieu, whom 
 the cardinal had married to the Duke d Epernon, as he had married 
 another of his nieces, Mademoiselle de Breze, to the Duke d Enghien. 
 Madame d Epernon was ill-treated by her husband, and died in retreat, 
 in 1691. She was sister of the Abbe du Cambout de Pontchateau, ft 
 celebrated Jansenist. See two portraits of her among the portraits of 
 Mademoiselle. 
 
 12 
 
134 CHAPTER I. 
 
 informing me that she was coming to the great con 
 vent at Paris. . . . Mademoiselle d Epernon could not 
 be better situated. It is a great house, well located, 
 and filled with young ladies of quality and spirit, 
 who have left the world which they knew and 
 despised. Now, it is this that makes great nuns. . . . 
 When she had arrived, she requested me to pay her 
 a visit. I went angry enough, grieved indeed to 
 the very heart. When, however, I saw her, I was 
 touched with the utmost tenderness, and all other 
 feelings yielded so thoroughly thereto, that it was 
 impossible for me to conceal it from her, my tears 
 and my extreme grief nqt even leaving me power 
 to speak ; these tears did not cease during the two 
 hours that I was with her, though I was unable to 
 say a single word. . . . Time has taught me in turn 
 the happiness which she enjoyed." 
 
 Mademoiselle d Epernon, born in 1624, entered 
 among the Carmelites at twenty-four years of age, in 
 1648 ; took the veil in 1649 ; spent many years in 
 penitence and religious training, and died in 1701, at 
 the age gf seventy-seven years, having passed fifty- 
 three in the monastery of the Rue Saint-Jacques. 
 She desired to live the most obscure life, and was 
 not even sub-prioress. 1 
 
 1 It is worth while to see, in the Abb6 Montis, the great resistance 
 
M LL* DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 135 
 
 Like Mademoiselle d Epernon, Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon thought of laying the storms that awaited 
 her, in the peaceful retreat where she had so many 
 
 which Mademoiselle d Epernon had to overcome from her brother, the 
 Duke de Candale, and especially from her father, who appealed to the 
 parliament and to the pope ; the death of the Duke de Candale, his re 
 mains carried to the Carmelites ; the conversion of the duke through 
 the instrumentality of his daughter, the finest portions of her life and 
 her pious death. She was one of the benefactresses. Histoire manu- 
 scrite, vol. 1st, p. 558. " The gifts bestowed by Anne-Marie de Je"sus 
 amounted to more than a hundred and fifty thousand livres. Besides 
 this immense sum, the Duke d Epernon, her father, dying in 1661, with 
 out heirs, bequeathed to it a hundred thousand livres over and above 
 the sixteen thousand which he left as a pious legacy. This lord had al 
 ready assigned to the house, during the life of our very honored Sister 
 Anne-Marie, three thousand livres pension, finding that the sixteen 
 thousand livres, which were regarded as her dowry, was too slender a 
 sum, and sufficient only to endow a lady who had followed her." The 
 lady here alluded to, and of whom Mademoiselle also speaks, was named 
 Bouchereau. "Being," says the Abbe" Montis (p. 34), " of an agreeable 
 form, she occupied herself with things quite as fragile ; but she finally 
 turned her attention to religion, and, desiring to become a nun, and 
 guessing the views of Mademoiselle d Epernon, she opened her heart to 
 her, and begged to be allowed to follow her, which was readily granted." 
 Mademoiselle Bouchereau died during her novitiate, before making a 
 profession. 
 
 It is through error that, on the faith of the Abbe Montis, in the 
 abridged Life of the Mother, joined to that of Mademoiselle d Epernon, 
 p. 291, the learned editor of the works of Bossuet supposes, vol. xxxiv., 
 p. 690, the beautiful letter on the Mother Agnes is addressed to Madame 
 d Epernon, prioress of the Carmelites of the Faubourg Saint-Jacques," 
 for Mademoiselle d Epernon it was thus that she was called and not 
 Madame d Epernon, was never prioress. Bossuet wrote to the prioress 
 who succeeded the Mother Agnes, either the Mother Claire du Saint- 
 Saerement, who died as he entered upon his office ; or rather to the one 
 who almost immediately took her place, that is, the Mother Marie du 
 Saint-Sacrement; in the world, Madame de La Thuillerie, who took her 
 vows in 1654, was prioress from 1691 to 1700, and died in 1705. Our 
 manuscripts contain several ancient copies of the letter of Bossuet, all 
 bearing the inscription : To the Mother of the Saint-Sacrement. 
 
136 CHAPTER. I. 
 
 friends. There she enjoyed herself, and passed the 
 greater part of her life ; for her mother, the Princess 
 de Conde, always made her a companion in her fre 
 quent visits to this convent. This princess, as was 
 not rare in those times, possessed at once great ambi 
 tion, with a piety that bordered upon superstition. 
 Contrasts abounded in her character. She never 
 loved her husband very much, and at twenty-one 
 years of age had imprisoned herself with him at the 
 Bastile and Yincennes, for three long years. She 
 was vain enough of her* great beauty, taking great 
 pleasure in making conquests ; that of Henry IY. had 
 
 In 1680, Madame de Sevigne, accompanying Mademoiselle to the Car 
 melites, there saw Mademoiselle d Epernon, and found her very much 
 altered. Letter of the 5th of January, 1680 : " I was yesterday at the 
 convent of the Carmelites with Mademoiselle, who was good enough to 
 ask Madame Lesdiguieres to take me there. We entered this holy 
 place. I was delighted with Mother Agnes. She spoke to me of you, 
 whom she seemed to know through her sister (Madame the Marchioness 
 de Villars). I saw Madame de Stuart, beautiful and contented (she 
 made a profession this very year, say our manuscripts, under the name 
 of Sister Marguerite de Saint-Augustin, and died in 1722). I saw Ma 
 dame d Epernon. . . More than thirty years had elapsed since we had 
 seen one another : she seemed to be horribly changed." 
 
 And nevertheless, without being a great beauty, she was the worthy 
 sister of the beautiful Candale. The convent of the Carmelites pos 
 sesses several pictures of her. One is quite large, representing her 
 between forty and fifty, pale and sick, but still agreeable. The best 
 and most perfectly. preserved, represents her young and charming. 
 Her figure is delicate and graceful, but of that fragile grace which years 
 do not respect. She is painted with a smile upon her lips, and such as 
 she was in the world. It is probably the portrait of Beaubrun, engraved 
 by Edelinck. 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 137 
 
 at least flattered her ; she had been very much sought 
 after, much praised, and her life had always been 
 free from scandal. She had a pride that passed all 
 bounds when any want of proper respect was shown 
 towards her ; but when this pride was undisturbed, 
 she was amiable and at ease. She was not destitute 
 of greatness of soul or spirit. She destined her 
 daughter for the highest position ; but, observing her 
 great beauty, and knowing, by her own experience, 
 the perils thereof, she took care to arm her against 
 them, by planting in her heart a serious piety, and by 
 surrounding her with the most edifying examples. 
 "Not content with going often to the convent of the 
 Carmelites, she wished to be able to go there at any 
 hour; to remain there she and her daughter as 
 long as she liked ; to have an apartment there like the 
 queen herself; and, to that end, she took upon her 
 burdens onerous enough, as appears from an au 
 thentic act, passed November 18, 1637, in her own 
 name, and in the name of Mademoiselle de Bourbon, 
 from which we give the following extract : 
 
 "We, present in person, the reverend Mothers 
 Marie-Madeleine de Jesus (Mademoiselle de Bains), 
 humble prioress ; Sister Marie de la Passion (Ma 
 demoiselle de Machault), sub-prioress ; Sister Philippe 
 de Saint-Paul (Mademoiselle de Bouthillier), and Sis 
 ter Marie de Saint-Barthelemy (Mademoiselle Gui- 
 
138 CHAFFER I. 
 
 chard), depositaries, representing the community, . . 
 who, advertised of the great desire that the high and 
 powerful princess, Dame Charlotte-Marguerite de 
 Montmorency, spouse of the high and powerful 
 Prince Henri de Bourbon, first prince of the blood, 
 and Demoiselle Anne de Bourbon, their daughter, 
 have shown to be received as founders of the new 
 house which the said reverends are at present con 
 structing, and which they expect to join to their an 
 cient cloister ; after having proposed the business in 
 full chapter, and with the permission of their superiors, 
 ... in consideration of the great piety professed by the 
 said dame princesses, . . . and of the very charitable 
 affection which they have always borne towards the 
 order of the Carmelites, and particularly towards this 
 monastery, have voluntarily admitted the said prin 
 cesses as founders, granting them the enjoyment of all 
 the privileges accorded to founders, ... to wit, freely to 
 enter the monastery whenever they wish ; to drink, to 
 eat, to sleep there ; to be present at divine service and 
 other spiritual exercises ; to take part in all the pray 
 ers, vigils, and other pious works that are performed 
 daily; we have moreover consented that the same 
 dame princess may enjoy the privilege, which she has 
 obtained from the Holy Father, of bringing two per 
 sons with her three times a month, as she has done 
 thus far, . . . always on the condition that the said 
 
DE BOUKBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 139 
 
 two persons shall not remain in the monastery after 
 six o clock in the evening during the winter, and after 
 seven o clock during the summer. . . . This being 
 accepted, . . . the said dames are obligated to continue 
 the honor of their benevolence to the reverends, and 
 also to defray the costs and expenses of the build- 
 ing." 
 
 In consequence of this act, Madame the Princess 
 gave more than 120,000 livres at different times, a 
 quantity of precious stones, ornaments for the church, 
 relics which she caused to be set with a magnificence 
 corresponding with her piety and her position. At the 
 same time, she was anxious to enjoy her rights, and, 
 while awaiting the completion of the new building, 
 she took an apartment at the convent, which she 
 furnished somewhat like a Carmelite. Her bed and 
 all her furniture were of brown serge. In this desert 
 she sometimes spent a whole week or a fortnight ; 
 finding herself more happy, she said, than in the midst 
 of the pleasures of the court. A simple nun could 
 never have shown more respect for the regulations of 
 the house. She subjected herself to long silence 
 through fear of meddling with that which was pre 
 scribed. Sometimes finding herself alone in her cham 
 ber with the two nuns who kept her company, she de 
 clared that she was afraid, and that at evening she took 
 them for phantoms, because they spoke to her only by 
 
140 CHAPTER I. 
 
 signs, and for things absolutely necessary. Subse 
 quently, she wished to have a cell in the dormitory, as 
 simple as that of all the others. " She would," says 
 the manuscript history 1 which has been confided to us, 
 " have willingly employed all her goods for the use 
 or the embellishment of the convent, if address had 
 not been employed to conceal from her the knowl 
 edge of its most legitimate wants. Sometimes she 
 complained with infinite grace : If your mothers were 
 willing, I would do here a thousand things ; but they 
 cannot do this thing, they will not do that, and I can 
 do nothing. This great princess, whom a natural 
 pride sometimes rendered so formidable, here became 
 the friend, the companion, the mother of whomsoever 
 applied to her. Her power was never felt except 
 through her benefits. The will of the mother prioress 
 was her law : she called her our mother ; rose up when 
 ever she perceived her ; submitted herself to her 
 commands with a charming sweetness, and was seen 
 in the choir, at morning prayers, at every service, in 
 the refectory, practising ordinary mortifications, lay 
 ing her natural greatness at the feet of the spouses 
 of Jesus Christ, with a humility that rendered her to 
 them still more noble." 
 
 Admitted with her mother into the interior of the 
 monastery, Anne-Gene vie ve filled her soul with the 
 
 Vol. 1st. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 
 
 most edifying conversations, the gravest and most 
 touching spectacles. Everywhere she met none but 
 the living already dead and kneeling upon the grave. 
 Here was the tomb of Michel de Marillac, keeper 
 of the seals, who died in exile, at Chateaudun, in 
 that same year, 1632, when Richelieu beheaded his 
 brother, Marshal de Marillac, uncle of Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon," Duke de Montmorency ; here were 
 the funeral monuments of the two women of the 
 house of Longueville, Marguerite and Catherine d Or 
 leans. She doubted not that she should one day see 
 buried in this same place her brilliant friend, the 
 famous Julie, Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, now 
 Duchess de Montausier ; that she should see carried 
 to this place the heart of Turenne that heart which, 
 for a moment, she was destined to trouble and dispute 
 with duty and the king; that here several of her own 
 children should also have their tombs, and that here 
 she herself should repose by the side of her mother, 
 Madame the Princess, and of her sister-in-law, the 
 sweet, pure, and graceful Anne-Marie Martin ozzi, 
 Princess de Conti. 1 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon wished, in her turn, to 
 bo one of the benefactresses of the Carmelites, and to 
 
 1 L Histoirc rnanuscrite, vol. 1st, contains the epitaphs of Michel de 
 Marillac, of Marguerite and Catherine d Orleans, of Madame the Princess, 
 of the Princess de Conti, etc. When the keeper of the seals, Marillac, 
 
14-9 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 make such presents as would please them. She 
 obtained from Pope Urban VII. the relics of seven 
 martyr virgins, with a brief of the Holy Father 
 attesting their authenticity, and that the names of 
 each of these victims of faith had been found entire, 
 or abbreviated on the stone that held their bodies in- 
 closed in the catacombs. Let us transport ourselves to 
 those times ; let us place ourselves in a convent of the 
 Carmelites, and we shall form some idea of the holy 
 joy which filled the house on witnessing the arrival 
 of this magnificent and august present. Queen Anne, 
 touched with a pious emulation, placed with them 
 some relics of Saint Paule, a Eoman dame, and an il 
 lustrious friend of Saint Jerome. The body of Saint 
 
 was arrested, the Mother Madeleine de Saint-Joseph tried, in every way 
 oserve and console him in his misfortune. Kegardless of the opin?on 
 f I icheheu who was then more powerful than ever, and who was the 
 protector of the order, she caused an exposition of the eucharist durin* 
 sixty days and sixty nights ; procured the offering of a large number of 
 prayers; she wrote often to the pious exile; implored the cardinal to 
 have him treated with less rigor; and after his death earnestly sought 
 and obtained Ins body from ChAteaudun ; erected to him a tomb at 
 base of the sanctuary in the chaple of SaintTh^rese, and composed her! 
 th epitaph: "Here lies Messire Michel de Marillac, keeper of 
 he seals of France, who, having been raised to this and other dignities 
 has always preserved an esteem for true honors and eternal richc doing 
 many good works, loving justice, seeking the glory of God, sustain J 
 Church, succoring the oppressed, giving all that he had to the poor* 
 and when he was by Providence, deprived of all, he showed his great 
 magnanimity a, ld contempt of earthly things ; living contentedly, and 
 journeying on to a holy death, by which he passed from this woVld to 
 another, in the year of grace 1632." 
 
M>LE DJK BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 143 
 
 Rosalie, a grandchild of France, had just been found 
 at Palermo. M. d Alincourt obtained it, and sent 
 it as an offering. Mademoiselle de Bourbon placed 
 all these relics in a silver shrine, made in the form of 
 a dome, surmounted by a lantern, and surrounded by 
 four figures, representing the Evangelists. 
 
 The Duke d Enghien seeing his sister, whom he 
 adored, and whose spirit he knew, thus occupied 
 with embellishing and enriching the convent of the 
 Carmelites, where he was sometimes taken, felt his 
 honor piqued, and wished to make his offering also. 
 In order to divert him during his recovery from a 
 severe illness, various curiosities of the day were 
 brought and shown to him in his chamber, and 
 among other things a reliquary, admirable for its 
 design and richness. The Duke d Enghien asked 
 the purpose of this masterpiece. The goldsmith 
 replied that it was for the Carmelites of the Rue 
 Saint-Jacques, but that, not being in a condition 
 to pay for such a piece of workmanship, they had 
 left it on his hands. The young duke exclaimed that 
 he wished the Carmelites could have this beautiful 
 reliquary, and he found a very good way of realizing 
 his wish. He took a purse in hand, and, extolling 
 the curiosity, which he kept concealed, refused to 
 show it to those who came to visit him, unless. some 
 pieces of gold or silver were put in his purse ; and he 
 
144 CHAPTER I. 
 
 succeeded in procuring the sum demanded, which 
 was 2,000 louis. 1 
 
 Tims passed the infancy and the youth of Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon, in the midst of the spectacles 
 and practice of a true and profound piety. We 
 must not be surprised, then, that this piety should 
 at length induce her to renounce the world and be 
 come a Carmelite. She who was one day to be the 
 ardent disciple and the intrepid protector of Port- 
 Royal, was then in the hands of a Jesuit, Father Le 
 Jeune. He encouraged her design ; but in vain she 
 addressed the most earnest supplications to her 
 father, the Prince de Conde. Having other views 
 in regard to his daughter, he complained to Madame 
 the Princess ; and in order to break the charm that 
 attached Anne-Genevieve to the Carmelites, it was 
 decided that she should be taken oftener into society. 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon obeyed ; but, her mind 
 being still filled with the images and the discourses 
 of the Rue Saint-Jacques, she took no pleasure in 
 these brilliant assemblages. When her mother found 
 fault with her poor success, Mademoiselle de Bour 
 bon is said to have replied to her : 2 " You have, 
 madame, such touching graces, that, as I simply at 
 tend you, and appear after you, I am not noticed." 
 
 1 Histolre manuscrite, vol. 1st, pp. 491, 492. 
 a VUIefore, p. 18. 
 
M LLE DK BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 145 
 
 This manner of justifying herself appeased Madame 
 the Princess, who, in spite of her devotion, willingly 
 suffered herself to be reminded that she had been 
 and was still very beautiful. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon, during several years, 
 followed her inclination ; and, in order to make her 
 renounce it, it was necessary to do her a sort of vio 
 lence. Thus far she had found means of escaping 
 the ball. Madame the Princess was obliged to em 
 ploy her authority to make her go ; and three days 
 before its occurrence, she was commanded to prepare 
 herself for it. 
 
 " Her first movement," says Yillefore, 1 " was to go 
 and tell this news to her good friends the Carmelites, 
 who were very much afflicted at it, and embarrassed 
 in replying to her, for she asked their advice as 
 to her conduct at so difficult a conjuncture. A coun 
 cil was held in due form, over which presided, in 
 religious habit, two excellent virtues, Penitence and 
 Prudence ; and it was resolved that Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon, before going to the assault, should arm her 
 self, under her clothing, with a small cuirass, vul 
 garly called a hair-cloth, and that she should then 
 lend herself, in good faith, to all the finery that was 
 designed for her. As soon as her consent was obtained, 
 
 3 Villefore, p. 14. 
 
 13 
 
146 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 every thing was resorted to that could most enliven 
 her natural graces, and nothing was forgotten to or 
 nament a beauty more brilliant by its own splendor 
 than by all the jewels with which it was loaded. 
 The Carmelites had strongly recommended her to be 
 ^>n her guard, but her self-confidence misled her. 
 From the moment she entered the ball-room, and as 
 long as she remained there, the eyes of the whole 
 assembly were fixed upon her. Admirers flocked 
 about her, lavishing those subtle praises that easily 
 lay hold of a newly enkindled self-love, which is 
 suspicious of nothing. ... On retiring from the ball, 
 she felt her heart agitated by new emotions : she 
 was no longer the same person." 
 
 It would not be without interest to know something 
 about that ball where Mademoiselle de Bourbon was 
 carried away as a victim, where she appeared to con 
 quer, and which she left intoxicated ; but Yillefore 
 gives us no information respecting it. We are there 
 fore reduced to conjecture. Here is one which we 
 give for what it is worth. WG read in the manu 
 script memoirs of Andre d Ormesson, and in the 
 Gazette de France, of JHenandot, 1 that, February 18, 
 
 * Manuscript of Andre" d Ormesson, fol. 332, verso. It was on the 
 occasion of the ballet of the 18th of February, 1635, that the Gazetted* 
 France cited, for the first time, *,he name of Mademoiselle de Bourbon. 
 The extra of the 21st of February, gives a full account of the fete of the 
 
M LLE DE BOUEBON AMONG THE CAKMELITES. 147 
 
 1635, there was given at the Louvre, under King 
 Louis XIIL, a grand ball, in which figured all the 
 beautie 4 ! of the day, and among the rest Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon. Observe that it is the first court-ball in 
 which the name of Mademoiselle de Bourbon is found, 
 both in d Ormesson and the Gazette. Again, that the 
 great violence, an account of which has been pre 
 served for us by Yillefore, could hav been shown to 
 the princess only on an occasion that demanded the 
 infliction, and for a royal ball. If this conjecture were 
 admitted, we should have the precise date of the con 
 version of Mademoiselle de Bourbon to worldly life, 
 as we have of the date of her conversion to the re 
 ligious life, which is certainly August 2, 1654, when 
 she was thirty-five years of age : the first would be 
 February 18, 1635, when Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 was sixteen. 
 
 18th. It describes all the scenes of the ballet of the king, names all the 
 great lords who danced in it, and concludes thus : " Such was the grand 
 ballet of the queen, which so delighted all who were present that they 
 were unable to decide which was most charming, the beauties who 
 adorned, the gems with which they glittered, or the figures which rep 
 resented those sixteen divinities of which it was composed : the queen, 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon, Mesdames de Longueville (the first wife of 
 the Duke de Longueville), de Montbazon, de Chaulnes, de La Valette, 
 de Eetz, Mademoiselle de Rohan, Mesdames de Lyancourt and de Mor- 
 temart, Mesdemoiselles de Senece, de Hautefort, d Esche, de Vieux- 
 Pont, de Saint-Georges and de La Fayette, who did not quit it until 
 three o clock in the morning. Every one left this place of marvels with 
 the feelings of Jacob, who, having seen angels in the night, thought 
 that he was standing upon the spot where heaven and earth united." 
 
148 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It is to very near this age of Madame de Longue- 
 ville that these words of Madame de Motteville re 
 fer : " Mademoiselle de Bourbon began, af though 
 very young, to exhibit the first charms of that angelic 
 face which has since had such renown." In order 
 to judge how faithful this slight sketch is, one must 
 go to Versailles and see a portrait, by an old and ex 
 cellent master, named Ducayer, representing Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon, at the age of fifteen years, by 
 the side of her father and her mother, in 1634. She 
 is here seen in all the freshness of her virgin beauty, 
 but in court attire, and as if going to that ball which 
 she so much dreaded, and which changed her soul 
 and her life. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon did not, however, for 
 get her friends of the convent of the Carmelites, and 
 continued to visit them. Thus far she had experienced 
 but one sentiment ; from that time she had two, love 
 of God and of the Carmelites, with a taste for worldly 
 success. She preserved the same piety, but that piety 
 was henceforth combated by the desire of pleasure, 
 the need of loving and being loved, the wish for 
 applause upon that stage where she witnessed the 
 success of so many persons who had neither her mirth, 
 nor her spirit, nor her face. This combat continued 
 a long time. "We have letters addressed by her to the 
 Carmelites, and in a tone of the most lively piety, even 
 
DE BOURBON AMONG THE CARMELITES. 149 
 
 when she was allowing herself to be most carried away 
 by her passions. Accuse neither her sincerity, nor 
 the inefficacy of the best principles. We are really 
 sincere when we express sentiments that are really 
 in the heart, although we may not have strength 
 to follow them ; and these noble sentiments have also 
 the precious advantage of mingling with our faults 
 a remnant of virtue that hinders us from sinking to 
 the bottom of the abyss, of uniting therewith a benefi 
 cent remorse that sustains the moral life, and of almost 
 always achieving a triumphant restoration to well 
 doing. Let them sleep for a season in the soul of 
 Madame de Longueville. There they will never be 
 extinguished. At some future day they will be 
 awakened, and we shall return to the convent of the 
 Carmelites, in the Rue Saint- Jacques. But it is neces 
 sary to quit it, in order to follow Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon to the court, to Chantilly, to Euel, to Lian- 
 court, among beautiful companions, amid agreeable 
 promenades, taking part in gallant conversations. 
 "We shall follow her first to Rue Saint-Thomas-du- 
 Louvre, to the hotel de Rambouillet. 
 13* 
 
CHAPTEK II. 
 
 1635 to 1642. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon at the h6tel de Eambouillet The Genre Pre"- 
 cieux Madame de Sable", type of the true prdcieuse Cornell] e and 
 Voiture Mademoiselle de Bourbon at Chantilly At Euel At Lian- 
 court Her young friends Mademoiselle du Vigean and Conde 
 Marriage of Mademoiselle de Bourbon. 
 
 IT is an error too general, and recently fortified by 
 M. Kcederer in his ingenious and learned memoir on 
 Polite Society in France, 1 that the hotel de Eam 
 bouillet was the first, and for a long time the only 
 salon in Paris where good company ever assembled. 
 No : the Marchioness de Eambouillet did not create, 
 she simply followed up the happy revolution which 
 caused a taste for intellectual things, delicate pleas 
 ures, elegant occupations to succeed, in France, the 
 barbarity of the civil wars, and the license of man 
 ners too much allowed by Henry IV. This taste is 
 the distinctive characteristic of the seventeenth cen- 
 
 1 Memoirepour sermr <i Vhistoire de la Societe polie en France; Paris 
 in-8,1835. See also M. Walckenaer : M moires toucliant la Vie et to 
 Ecnts de Madame de Sevignl, vol. 1st, chap. iv. and v. 
 
M LLE DE BOUKBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 151 
 
 tury ; it is the pure and noble source whence issued 
 all the wonders of this great period. Louis XIV., in 
 1661, received it wholly formed, illustrious on all 
 sides by reason of the most brilliant military and 
 political success, rich in masterpieces of every kind, 
 when already the finest geniuses had finished or com 
 menced their career ; when Malherbe and Balzac, the 
 founders of the new prose and of the new poesy, 
 when Descartes, the founder of the new philosophy, 
 had long been buried ; when Le Sueur and Sarrazin 
 were dead ; when Pascal and Poussin were about to 
 close their eyes ; when Corneille was no longer but a 
 shadow of himself; when Madame de Sevigne, La 
 Fontaine, and Moliere, were forty, and Bossuet thirty- 
 six years of age. All these great minds have, in their 
 style as well as in their thought, something artless 
 and masculine, which betrays another epoch ; an art 
 and a literature developed under other auspices. 
 The seventeenth century does not commence with 
 Louis XI V., who crowns it, but with Richelieu, who 
 inspired it. !Nb one felt better than Richelieu the 
 growing taste for politeness and letters. The foun 
 dation of this great soul was ambition : his true genius 
 was for politics ; but, eager for every kind of glory, 
 he desired also to be, or to appear, one of the first 
 wits of his time, and even an accomplished cavalier. 
 Like all great men from Caesar to Napoleon, he was 
 
152 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 very amiable when he wished to be so. It pleased 
 him for a while .to affect to be a discontented man of 
 ambition, who was abiding his time under the ap 
 pearance of a man of the world, seeking and obtain 
 ing the most brilliant success in society. As soon as 
 he acquired power, he gave vogue to his own tastes ; 
 and in 1630 there was in Paris more than one hotel 
 where there were assembled, for agreeable pastime, 
 people of wit, of lofty and of low descent, military 
 personages, lawyers and theologians, with their amia 
 ble wives, who naturally gave the ton. The hotel 
 de Rambouillet was the most considerable of all 
 the rendezvous of the new spirit, and it continued 
 to be the most celebrated, by reason rather of 
 the defects than of the good qualities there encoun 
 tered. 
 
 In fact, what idea is presented to the mind as soon 
 as we hear mentioned the hotel de Eambouillet? 
 That of a choice reunion where the most exquisite 
 politeness is cultivated, but where, little by little, the 
 genre ^ecieux enters and acquires full control. 
 
 And what was this genre precieux? 
 
 It was at first simply what is now called the style 
 distingue. Distinction was what was sought above 
 all things at the hotel de Eambouillet : whoever pos 
 sessed it, or aspired to it, from princes and princesses 
 of the blood to lettered persons of the most humble 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 153 
 
 fortune, was well received, attracted to, retained in 
 the amiable and illustrious company. 
 
 But what must we understand by distinction ? It 
 cannot be defined in an absolute manner. Each 
 epoch makes an ideal of distinction for its own use. 
 Two things, however, almost always enter it, two 
 things in appearance contrary, and which are com 
 bined only in choice spirits happily cultivated : a 
 certain elevation in ideas and sentiments, with an ex 
 treme simplicity in manners and language. I sup 
 pose that with Aspasia, at Athens, Pericles, Anax- 
 agoras, and Phidias talked of art, of philosophy, of 
 politics, with no more effort and declamation, than 
 workmen and merchants would have used in convers 
 ing about their ordinary occupations. Socrates was 
 an accomplished model in this style, and the Banquet 
 of Plato, wherein, after supper, discourse is held 
 upon the most elevated topics in the most charming 
 and most natural manner, gives us a perfect idea of 
 what was then the ton of that particular atticism at 
 Athens, and which, even at Athens, was the mark of 
 distinction. It was the same at Rome with the 
 Scipios, where an amiable badinage was often min 
 gled with the gravest matters, a little less, perhaps, 
 at the suppers of Cicero, when Caesar was not present, 
 the master of the house not being a sufficiently great 
 lord to be always perfectly simple, and the new man, 
 
154 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I do not say the parvenu especially the orator and 
 the man of letters, being a little too perceptible, even 
 when he strove most to imitate Plato. It was this 
 Eoman urbanity, the somewhat degenerated daughter 
 of Athenian atticism, that the hotel de Eambouillet 
 aimed at and contributed to spread. 1 
 
 Grandeur was in some sort in the air from the very 
 commencement of the seventeenth century. The 
 policy of the government was grand, and great men 
 sprang up in crowds to carry it out in the councils 
 and on the battle-field. A mighty spirit pervaded 
 French society. Everywhere were great designs in 
 the arts, in letters, in sciences, in philosophy. Des 
 cartes, Poussin, and Comeille were advancing to 
 wards their future glory, full of bold thoughts, under 
 the eyes of Kichelieu. Every thing was turned to 
 grandeur. Every thing was rude, even somewhat 
 gross, mind as well as heart. Force abounded; 
 grace was absent. In this excessive vigor, good taste 
 was unknown. Politeness was necessary to lead the 
 century to perfection. Of this the hotel de Eam 
 bouillet was particularly the school. 
 
 The days of its greatest lustre begin in 1630, and 
 
 extend to 1648, when the idol of the house, Made- 
 
 . moiselle de Eambouillet, married in 1645 to M. de 
 
 1 The very word urbanity is from Balzac, one of the first and most 
 illustrious frequenters of the house. 
 
DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE KAMBOUILLET. 155 
 
 Montausier, follows him into his government of Sain- 
 tonge and of Angoumois, at the commencement of 
 the Fronde. The palmy days of the illustrious hotel 
 were then under Richelieu, and during the first years 
 of the regency. For a score of years it rendered in 
 contestable services to the national taste ; but the 
 good which it was able to do, was achieved in 1648. 
 Already its defects had begun to appear and to en 
 croach upon its good qualities. The inferior circles 
 which had been formed in Paris and in the prov 
 inces, at first useful because they promoted polite 
 ness, had terminated in being dangerous by degen 
 erating loftiness of ideas and sentiments into a false 
 grandeur, extravagant and affected, especially by car 
 rying affectation into simplicity. It was then that the 
 genre precieux, becoming corrupted, the great master 
 in fact of nature and truth, declared against it that 
 pitiless war, opened by his comedy of Les Precieuses 
 Ridicules, printed in 1660, and closed by that of Les 
 Femmes Savantes, printed in 1673. But let us return 
 to 1630. 
 
 In 1630 there was much originality in France, but 
 it was an originality which showed the necessity of 
 foreign models. At a later period, Moliere, La Fon 
 taine, Boileau, and Racine, those geniuses so emi 
 nently French, proposed the study of models ; they 
 sought them in antiquity, which they imitated with- 
 
156 CHAPTER II. 
 
 out ceasing to be original, giving the French charac 
 ter to every thing that they touched. Their prede 
 cessors had addressed themselves to Italy and to 
 Spain, in their eyes the two nations most advanced. 
 The Medicis had introduced among us a taste for 
 Italian literature. Queen Anne brought, or rather 
 strengthened, a taste for Spanish literature. The 
 hotel de Bambouillet endeavored to unite them. 
 
 The Spanish style was, at the beginning of the sev 
 enteenth century, made up of high gallantry, lan 
 guishing and Platonic ; of a heroism somewhat ro 
 mantic ; a knightly courage ; a lively sentiment of the 
 beauties of nature, which developed itself in eclogues 
 and idy^s, both prose and verse ; a passion for music 
 and serenades, as well as for carousals, elegant con 
 versations, and magnificent diversions. The Italian 
 style was precisely the contrary of Spanish grandeur, 
 or, if you please, bombast, wit, carried to refinement, 
 raillery and jesting, which threatened to abase every 
 thing. From the mixture of these two styles sprang 
 the alliance, ardently pursued, rarely accomplished 
 in a perfect proportion, of the grand and the familiar, 
 of the grave and the pleasant, of the sprightly and the 
 sublime. 
 
 At the h5tel de Kambouillet, it was not sufficient to 
 be a hero ; it was also necessary to be a gallant man, 
 an honnete man, as was the appellation in 1630, and as 
 
M LIJ: DE BOUKBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 157 
 
 it continued to be during the seventeenth century ; an 
 honnete man, new and piquant expression, mysterious 
 type which it is difficult to define, and whose senti 
 ment spread with inconceivable rapidity. The hon 
 nete man had elevated sentiments : he was necessarily 
 brave, gallant, liberal ; he had wit and fine manners, 
 but all this without the least appearance of pedantry, 
 and with an easy and familiar air. Such was the 
 ideal which the hotel de Rambouillet proposed for 
 public admiration, and for the imitation of people 
 who prided themselves on being comme ilfaut. 
 
 The women were naturally called upon to play the 
 principal role in an enterprise like this, and the Mar 
 chioness de Rambouillet seemed formed expressly to 
 preside over it. She was almost Italian : her father 
 was Yivonne Pisani, and her mother, Savelli. Her 
 husband was a very high lord, and had been am 
 bassador extraordinary to Spain. They had already 
 withdrawn from business, with a considerable fortune, 
 to a beautiful hotel near Paris, a magnificent country 
 residence i 1 they were there in the way of no one, and 
 drew about them a large circle. To finish the portrait 
 of an accomplished hostess, add that Madame de Ram 
 bouillet, though very beautiful, had never been en 
 gaged in any intrigue, and that she was passionately 
 
 1 The Chateau de Eambouillet, above Versailles, ten leagues from 
 Paris. Francis I. died here. 
 
158 CHAPTER II. 
 
 fond of people of wit, though without any pretension 
 thereto herself: in fact, only a few letters and two 
 stanzas are all that can be found from her pen. 1 
 
 She was also an object of admiration to all those 
 who knew her. Tallemant des Reaux himself passes 
 upon her the highest eulogy. He says that she was 
 beautiful, virtuous, -and sensible. " She has," 2 observes 
 he, " always loved beautiful things ; and for the sake of 
 reading Yirgil, she applied herself to the study of Lat 
 in, but was prevented from accomplishing her design 
 by sickness : she contented herself afterwards with 
 learning Spanish. . . . She was in every thing a very 
 clever person. . . . No one in the world was less sel 
 fish ; she went farther than those who say that giving 
 is a pleasure worthy of a king, for she said that it 
 was a pleasure worthy of God. . . . There never was 
 a mind more upright. . . . Never was there a truer 
 friend." Her only defect which M. Rcederer has in 
 tentionally suppressed, and which Tallemant does 
 not fail to notice, was an excessive delicacy in lan 
 guage. There were words which frightened her, and 
 which found no favor with her, 3 so that there was 
 
 1 One to Madame the Duchess d Aiguillon, relating to a certain water 
 course : Tallemant, vol. ii., p. 228. The other, her epitaph, preserved by 
 Menage in his Observations on the Poetry of MalJierbe. 
 
 8 Vol. ii., p. 233. 
 
 1 I do not know where M. Eooderer got the idea that Madame de Ram- 
 bouillet wrote so simply. Here is one of her billets, which could not 
 
DE BOUKBON AT THE HOTEL DE KAMBOUILLET. 159 
 
 already in Arthenice (the iwm de precieuse of Ma 
 dame de Rambouillet) something of Philaminte. 
 Segrais speaks of her in terms similar to those of 
 Tallemant : l " Madame de Eambouillet was admira- 
 able ; she was good, gentle, beneficent, and warm 
 hearted, and she possessed a correct mind. It was 
 she who corrected the bad manners then prevalent. 
 She had formed her mind by reading good Italian 
 and Spanish books ; and she taught politeness to all 
 
 have led the person to whom it is addressed to speak of simplicity^ as 
 M. Roederer does of the letters of Madame de Eambouillet, and of her 
 daughter to Voiture ; we speak from conjecture, for these letters have 
 not been seen by us. The one we give here was found among the man 
 uscripts ofConrart, in the Library of the Arsenal, vol. xiv., in-4, p. 53; 
 it is addressed to Godeau, by turns Bishop of Grasse and of Vence : 
 
 " SIR : If my carabineer-poet or poetic carabineer (Arnault, Colonel of 
 Carabineers, a distinguished warrior, a man of great wit, but a satirist, 
 and a person enough like Bussy) was in Paris, I would reply to you in 
 verse, and not in prose ; but for myself I have no familiarity with 
 the muses. I return a million thanks for your kind wishes ; and in 
 recompense, I wish every moment that you were in a lodge, where I am 
 sure you would sleep better than you do at Vence. It is supported by 
 columns of transparent marble, and was built above the mid-region of 
 the air by Queen Zirfee. The sky there is always serene ; clouds darken 
 neither the sight nor the understanding, and thence quite at my ease 
 I have considered the downfall of the terrestrial Angel. It seems to 
 me that on this occasion fortune has shown that it is a slander to say 
 that she favors only the young. And because I am no more the sub 
 ject of change than my lodge, you may rest assured that I shall continue 
 so as long as I live. 
 
 "Sir, 
 
 " Your very humble servant, 
 
 June 26, 1642. 00 (Catherine) DE VIVONNE." 
 
 i The works of Segrais, Amsterdam, 1723, vol. 1st. Memoires An 
 ecdotes, p. 29. 
 
160 CHAPTER II. 
 
 those who frequented her company. Princes visited 
 her, though she was not a duchess. She was also an 
 excellent friend, obliging to every one. The Cardi 
 nal Richelieu held her in the highest esteem. . . . 
 Madame de La Fayette learned much from her." 
 One of her daughters, the celebrated Julie, possessed 
 a most remarkable mind, and, in default of great 
 beauty, a very fine form and noble air. She under 
 stood how to make agreeable the house of her mother, 
 and she was ably seconded by her brother, the Mar 
 quis de Pisani, as intellectual as he was brave ; also 
 by her numerous sisters, especially by her who was 
 the first Madame de Grignan. 1 
 
 We may find anywhere a description of the hotel 
 de Rambouillet, and of that famous blue chamber, 
 which was in some sort the sanctuary of the temple 
 of the goddess of Athens, to speak like Mademoiselle 
 in La Princesse de Paphlagonie? It was a large 
 salon, the decorations of which were all of blue vel 
 vet, set off with gold and silver, and whose large 
 windows, opening from the ceiling to the floor, ad 
 mitted abundance of light and air, and gave the 
 prospect of a very beautiful and well-cultivated gar 
 den, which extended as far as the eye could reach. 
 
 1 On Mademoiselle de Eambouillet, Pisani, and his sisters, see Talle- 
 mant, vol. ii., pp. 207-262. 
 9 Edition of 1659, pp. 118-121. 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE EAMBOUILLET. 161 
 
 The hotel had been built upon a new plan, designed 
 by Madame de Rambouillet herself. It was not very 
 vast, but of a beautiful appearance. It was the last 
 hotel but one of the Rue Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre, on 
 the side of the Place du Palais Cardinal, between the 
 Quinze-Vingts, which occupied the corner of the 
 street, and the hotel de Chevreuse, afterwards the 
 hotel d Epernon, and a little later, towards 1663 or 
 1664, the hotel de Longueville. 1 
 
 M. Roederer has left hardly any thing to be done 
 in cataloguing the great lords and ladies who fre 
 quented the hotel de Rambouillet during the last half 
 of its long and brilliant existence. I will limit my 
 self to selecting, from the group of amiable women 
 ever found there, one whom M. Rcederer has too much 
 neglected, and who is, in my eyes, the model of a true 
 and perfect precieuse, Madeleine de Souvre, Mar 
 chioness de Sable, whose life is connected with that 
 of Madame de Longueville, and of whom Madame de 
 Motteville has left us the following portrait : 
 
 1 See Saural, Antiquites de Paris, vol. iii., p. 200, and the plan of Paris 
 by Gomboust. These hotels, or rather their ruins, have just entirely 
 disappeared", with the Eue Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre, to the advantage 
 of the Place du Carrousel. May this admirable place preserve its gran 
 deur, so dearly bought, and no transversal building spoil the beautiful 
 harmony of the Louvre and the Tuileries ! May also some competent 
 and industrious man, devoted to the study of Paris and its monuments, 
 resolve not to let the Eue Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre perish without 
 giving its description and a history faithful to the epoch of its greatest 
 glory. 
 
 U* 
 
162 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " The Marchioness de Sable 1 was one of those whose 
 beauty was creating the most sensation when the 
 queen (Queen Anne) arrived in France (in 1615); 
 but if she was lovely, she was still more desirous of 
 appearing so. The love which this lady had for her 
 self rendered her a little too sensible to that testified 
 to her by the other sex. There were in France some 
 relics of the politeness that Catherine de Medicis had 
 introduced from Italy ; and so much delicacy was 
 found in the new comedies and in all other works, 
 both prose and verse, which came from Madrid, that 
 she conceived a very high opinion of the gallantry 
 which the Spaniards had caught from the Moors. She 
 was persuaded that men might, without crime, enter 
 tain the most tender sentiments for females ; that the 
 desire of pleasing impelled them to the greatest and 
 handsomest acts, gave them spirit and inspired them 
 with liberality and every virtue ; but that, on the other 
 hand, women, who were the ornament of the world, 
 and made to be served and adored, ought to tolerate 
 their respect alone. This lady, supporting her senti 
 ments with fine wit and great beauty, gave them 
 much authority in her time ; and the number and con 
 sideration of those who continued to see her, perpetu 
 ated in our time what the Spaniards call fucezas" 2 
 
 1 Memoires, vol. 1st, p. 13. 
 
 3 Ed. of Amsterdam. Petitot, vol. xxxvi. of the collection, p. 841, 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE KAMBOUILLET. 163 
 
 Madame de Sable had been passionately loved by 
 the brave, handsome, and unfortunate Duke de Mont- 
 morency, uncle of Madame de Longueville, who was 
 decapitated at Toulouse in 1632. She responded to 
 his passion; but Montmorency having raised his 
 eyes upon the queen, Madame de Sable, like a true 
 Spaniard, broke connection with him. " I heard her 
 say," says Madame de Motteville again, " that her 
 own pride was so great, that, on the first demonstra 
 tion made by the Duke de Montmorency of his 
 change of affection, she wished to see him no more, 
 being unable to receive agreeably devotion which she 
 was obliged to share even with the greatest princess 
 in the world." 
 
 The Marchioness de Sable continued faithful to the 
 manners of her youth, and, when the hotel de Ram- 
 bouillet was almost closed, she maintained something 
 akin to it in her hotel of the Place-Eoyale, with her 
 intellectual friend, the Countess de Maure, and even 
 in her retreat of Port-Royal, at the Faubourg Saint- 
 Jacques. She kept up for a long time a school of 
 I/on ton, of morale, and of refined literature, whence 
 originated the Maximes of La Rochefoucauld. 
 
 Among the people of letters who came often 
 to the hotel de Rambouillet, the two most cele- 
 
 proposes to read liusesas, from huso, st>indle. The true reading seems 
 Jinezas. 
 
164 CHAPTER II. 
 
 brated are without contradiction Corneille and Voi- 
 ture. 
 
 Corneille, with Descartes, is the highest expression 
 of the literature of the first half of the seventeenth 
 century. His qualities, like his defects, were in the 
 most perfect harmony with his times. Hence a suc 
 cess which no one has since equalled. Under Louis 
 XIY., what piece of Racine produced the impression 
 made by the Cid^ in 1636 ? It is necessary to read the 
 writers of the times in order to obtain an idea of the 
 enthusiasm which seized Paris and all France. They 
 were true transports : 
 
 All Paris for Chimene hath the eyes of Eodrigue. 
 
 Nothing more true. Because at this time there 
 was not a gentleman in Paris who did not pretend to 
 be a Eodrigue ; not a woman of bon ton who had not 
 at heart, or who did not affect the sentiments of 
 Chimene. The more we study this admirable piece, 
 which Polyeucte alone surpassed a few years after, 
 the more we discover in it the traits of that great 
 epoch forever gone, heroism and great gallantly ; that 
 point of honor which doubtless shed much blood, but 
 promoted the warlike spirit ; in ripe men and in chief 
 tains, serious interests and energetic passions clashing 
 with each other ; in youth, the generous struggle of 
 love and duty, which will one day be carried to the 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 165 
 
 utmost degree of the pathetic in Pauline and in 
 Severe, throughout it a language somewhat rude, but 
 artless and strong, ever familiar ; at the same time, it 
 is true, an ill-founded taste straying sometimes in the 
 pursuit of grandeur, of delicacies infinite and full of 
 grace, but somewhat critical, and of subtile analyses 
 of passion reasoning upon itself. Such was the hotel 
 de Rambouillet. It recognized itself in and defended 
 the Cid against the all-powerful minister. 1 It was in 
 the noble salon that Corneille encountered Balzac, 
 and conversed with him concerning Rome and the 
 Romans. Let the discourses upon the Romans ad 
 dressed by Balzac to the Marchioness de Rambouillet 2 
 
 1 It is very certain that the author of Mirame show some littleness in 
 the ridiculous quarrel raised against The Cid ; but it must be acknowl 
 edged that he had some State reasons not to be despised. He who had 
 brought about the royal edict against duels could not endure verses in 
 their honor ; there was alain The Cid more than one w*rd unfavora 
 ble to the prime ministers. Besides, the cardinal loved Corneille ; he 
 gave him a good pension, and even performed the marriage ceremony 
 for him. One day Corneille having presented himself more sad and 
 thoughtful than ordinary before the Cardinal. Eichelieu, the latter asked 
 him if he was working. Corneille replied that he was far from having 
 the tranquillity necessary for composition, that his head was turned 
 with love. It was necessary to explain the whole matter, and he told the 
 cardinal that he was passionately in love with the daughter of Lieuten 
 ant General d Andely, and that he could not obtain her from her father. 
 The cardinal requested this father, so hard to please, to come to him at 
 Paris. .He arrived trembling at receiving such an unexpected order, 
 and returned very glad to get off with giving his daughter to a man in 
 such high credit. See the brothers Parfait, History of the French 
 Theatre, vol. v., p. 304. 
 
 2 Works of Balzac, in-fol., vol. ii., p. 419. 
 
166 CHAPTER II. 
 
 be read, and it will be seen whether the conversations 
 of this period were useless. I dare say that France 
 never witnessed a time when politics were more the 
 order of the day. Every one was then occupied with 
 public affairs. It was neither Lucan nor Tacitus who 
 taught Corneille the language of Oinna and of the 
 first scene of La Mort de Pompee. The true school 
 of Corneille was the spectacle of w r hat passed around 
 him, the story of great contemporaneous events, the 
 conversations of Richelieu and of his familiars, Father 
 Joseph, Mazarin, Lyonne, and those who were every 
 day in the companies which he frequented, where 
 ambassadors, warriors, bishops, councillors of state 
 mingled with men of letters. Corneille read all his 
 pieces at the hotel de Rambouillet. It was in all its 
 glory, and it declined with him ; his masterpiece, the 
 masterpiece also of the French stage, Polyeucte, ap 
 peared in 164-3, that is, during the most brilliant days 
 of the hotel de Rambouillet, and I may add of France, 
 for it was in this same year, 1643, that one of the 
 youngest disciples of the illustrious hotel, the most 
 passionate admirer of Corneille, the brother of Made- 
 k moiselle de Bourbon, the Duke d Enghien, gained 
 at the age of twenty-two years, in a manner worthy 
 of Alexander and of Caesar, one of those battles 
 of which history records but five or six that battle of 
 Rocroy, in which the designs of Henri IV. and of 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE EAMBOUILLET. 167 
 
 Richelieu were justified by victory, and by which 
 France succeeded Spain in the moral and military 
 supremacy of Europe. 
 
 Voiture was admired by his most intellectual and 
 fastidious contemporaries. La Fontaine places him in 
 the number of his masters. 1 Madame de Sevigne 
 characterizes his mind as " free, playful, charming." 2 
 Boileau says that Voiture is, in his eyes, a sort of 
 clown, asking what there is in him to be so much ad 
 mired. 3 Let us confess it : we all more or less resem 
 ble this clown : we are scarcely able at the present 
 day to account for the fame of Yoiture. Many rea 
 sons may be assigned for it which militate neither 
 against Yoiture nor ourselves. 
 
 Of all our faculties, wit is that which has most to 
 do with social intercourse, but which leaves the least 
 trace. A sally, a repartee, cannot be separated from 
 the manner in which they are expressed. Sprightly 
 sayings have not all their grace except in the mouth 
 of a man of wit. It is not thus with words proceed 
 ing from the heart, and with great thoughts. As they 
 come from the depths of human nature, which changes 
 not, they have infinite perspectives, and they endure 
 as long as the heart and the reason. But wit plays 
 
 1 Maitre Vincent, etc. 2 Letter of November 24, 1676. 
 
 3 Third Satire. 
 
168 CHAPTER H. 
 
 upon the surface ; it sparkles and becomes extin 
 guished in an instant. "Wit is the offspring of the 
 moment. The effect of an impromptu depends upon 
 a thousand things, which, in disappearing, cany with 
 them what had most charmed us. What, I pray you, 
 is the present value of a pleasantry perpetrated two 
 centuries ago ? 
 
 Madame de Sevigne, in her enthusiasm for him 
 who had been one of the masters of her youth, ex 
 claims : " So much the worse for those who do not 
 understand him !" But it is easy for the amiable mar 
 chioness to speak concerning him ; she had an inti 
 mate knowledge of the manners, of the things, of the 
 men, of the women, of the adventures, of the little 
 accidents to which the verses and prose of Yoiture 
 related. His nephew, Martin Pinchesne, who, a 
 year or two after the death of his uncle, published 
 his works, was foolish or kind enough to suppress the 
 dates of the jokes and the names of most of the per 
 sons who had called them forth, so that even in the 
 seventeenth century those who had not been of 
 Voiture s society, had need of a commentator to un 
 derstand him. Tallemant confesses that there are 
 in his writings many things, the point of which he 
 has not been able to discover. " At some future day," 
 says he, " if it can be done without offending too 
 many people, I will have them printed with notes, 
 
DK BuUliBON AT THE HOTEL Dli KAMBOUILLET. 169 
 
 and I will add to them such other pieces as I shall be 
 able to find of the society of the hotel de Ram- 
 bouillet." 1 
 
 In fact, to relish Voiture, he should have been seen 
 upon the theatre of his success from 1630 to 1648, 
 with those pretty women who sought to be amused, 
 among those young gentlemen who, in the interval 
 of battles, were partaking of the most refined pleas 
 ures of the mind. Voiture reigned at the hotel de 
 Rambouillet. Corneille, timid and proud, neglected 
 and full of himself, was but ill at ease in this great 
 society : he listened almost always in silence, and sel 
 dom conversed except with Balzac, his fellow-citizen 
 in the Roman republic. But Voiture was the gay- 
 ety, the life, the soul of the house. He was always 
 in the proper mood ; his inexhaustible flow of spirits 
 mingled in every thing, animated every thing, and, 
 while Corneille was grave in the midst of trifles, and 
 introducing, involuntarily, into the very comedies 
 which he wished to make most diverting, tragic 
 movements, Voiture, in the most serious matters, was 
 lavishing his witticisms. He represents the playful 
 side of the hotel de Rambouillet, as Corneille did its 
 severe side. 
 
 Let us not forget that Voiture wrote only as he was 
 
 1 Tallemant, ii., p. 295. 
 
 15 
 
170 CHAPTER II. 
 
 inspired by the occasion that circumstance was his 
 favorite muse, and that she dictated to him most of 
 those little things, produced in haste, and which he 
 did not even take the trouble to collect. It is then 
 ridiculous to criticise them. They were for the most 
 part songs, intended to be sung, and which were 
 sung. The editor has sometimes indicated the airs, 
 and we have found nearly all of them in a curious 
 collection, belonging to the library of the Arsenal, 
 entitled Chansons notees. 
 
 But Yoiture has not merely a facility full of charm ; 
 it seems to me that in his somewhat more studied 
 efforts, he has ideas, philosophy, sensibility, some 
 times even passion. I feel obliged to shelter myself 
 behind the authority of Boileau, who, in his letter to 
 Perrault, 1 eulogizes Yoiture, and particularly his ele 
 gies. For my part, I prefer them to all those which 
 appeared before 1648, the year of the death of Yoi 
 ture, and of the end, or at least of the decay of the 
 hotel de Eambouillet, excepting, indeed, the elegies 
 of Corneille, now too much forgotten, and which con 
 tain passages vieing with the most touching of his 
 tragedies. 2 
 
 1 Edit, of Saint-Surin, vol. iv., p. 375. 
 
 3 See in the (Euvres diverges of Corneille, ed. of Amsterdam, 1740, 
 p. 174, the elegy containing a declaration of love : it is not dated, but 
 must have been written during the youth of Corneille, and even before 
 hia glory, for he does not speak of it, whilst later he uses a very dif- 
 
M"-* DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 171 
 
 I would call attention to the elegy to a coquette, 
 whom Yoiture names Belise. Is there, indeed, no 
 elevation, no force in the following verses ? 
 
 Your charms which but the face adorn, 
 Can ne er control a soul well born, 
 Your sway s too harsh to be secure ; 
 If any one can it endure, 
 
 ferent tone. The lady to whom his elegy is addressed, must have been 
 of good birth, if the young poet is to be believed. He paints finely the 
 passage from admiration to love : 
 
 Mais de ce sentiment la flatteuse imposture 
 N empScha pas le mal pour cacher la blessure, 
 Et ce soin d admirer, qui dure plus d un jour, 
 S il n est amour d< ja, devient bientot amour. 
 Un je ne sais quel trouble oii je me vis reduiro 
 De cette verite sut assez tot m instruire: 
 Par d inquiets transports me sentant emouvoir, 
 J en connus le sujet quand j osai vous revoir. 
 
 Un desordre confus nV expliqua mon martyre : 
 
 Je voulus vous parler, mais je ne sus que dire. 
 
 Je rougis, je palis, et d un tacite aveu 
 
 Je n aime point, dis-je, helas ! qu il s en faijt pcu ! etc. 
 
 The piece entitled Jalousie, and which is not finished, has parts 
 which seem written by Moliere. 
 
 Le plus lger chagrin d une humeur in^gale, 
 Le moindre 6garement d un mauvais intervalle, 
 Un souris par megarde a ses yeux derobe, 
 Un coup d reil par hasard sur un autre tombe, 
 
 Tout cela fait pour lui de grands crimes d Etat, 
 Et plus 1 amour est fort, plus il est delicat. 
 
 Corneille felt a tender sentiment for the Marchioness de B. A. T. (we 
 are ignorant of the name of the person concealed under these initials). 
 He speaks of himself now in a very different manner from that of his 
 youth, and he turns the honors of his glory to the profit of his love : 
 
 Je connais mes defauts, mais apres tout je pense 
 tre pour vous encore un captif d importanco, 
 
172 CHAPTER II. 
 
 With so much scorn, ingratitude, 
 
 He must be born for servitude, 
 
 Or else some wretch whom gods pursue 
 
 In wrath by giving him to you. 
 
 For praise and honor vainly moved, 
 
 You cannot love, yet would be loved, 1 etc. 
 
 We must give almost in full the elegy to a lady 
 whom he had quitted for another, and to whom he 
 returned : 
 
 Leaving for me her native pride, 
 Sweet Iris could no more deride ; 
 Approved my flame, my hopes allow d, 
 Eeceived my love, heard what I vow d, 
 
 Car vous aimez le gloire, et vous savez qu vra roi 
 Ne vous en peut jamais assurer tant quo moi, etc. 
 
 Corneillo bid adieu to her whose love he despairs of obtaining; he 
 yields to younger rivals : 
 
 Negligez-moi pour eux, mais dites en vous-meme : 
 Moins il me veut aimer, plus il fait voir qu il m aime, 
 Et m aime d autant plus quo son coeur enflamme 
 N ose meme aspirer au bonheur d etre aime. 
 Je fais tous ses plaisirs, j ai toutes ses pensees, 
 Bans que le moindre espoir les ait interessees. 
 Puisse-je malgre vous y penser au pen moins, 
 M ecliapper quelque jour vers quelques autres soins, 
 Trouver quelqnes plaisirs ailleurs qu en votre idee, 
 Et voir toute mon ame un peu moins obsedce ; 
 Et vous, de qui je n ose attendre jamais rien, 
 Ne ressentir jamais un mal pareil au mien ! 
 
 I will not quote, but indicate the stanzas addressed to the same per 
 son, and which express the same sentiments in a different meter : 
 
 Marquise, si mon visage 
 
 A quelques traits un peu vienx, etc. 
 
 1 Vol. ii., p. 87. The first edition of Voiture is that given by his neph 
 ew, Pinchesnc, almost immediately after his death, in 1650, in-4, and 
 which is dedicated to Conde. There was already a seventh edition, 
 in-12, in 1665. The last and most complete is that of 1745, 2 vol., small 
 in-8. It is this that wo shall quote. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL pE KAMBOUILLET. 173 
 
 Bestow d those tokens, one by one, 
 Which lovers hang their hopes upon. 
 Treatment so mild, t must be averr d, 
 Some feeling in my bosom stirr d, 
 Of love ? This perjured soul gainst you 
 Such injury could never do ; 
 Of friendship only, yet so strong, 
 I thought to love t would turn ere long. 
 In her I daily hoped to meet 
 The traits which render you so sweet, 
 Those charms divine, by which, at will, 
 You either make alive or kill ; 
 Your graces perfectly refined, 
 The native grandeur of your mind, 
 That discourse sweet, to nature true, 
 But these I find alone in you. 
 Of beauty, sooth, she had enough 
 To move the heart of sternest stuff; 
 A hundred charms in her I found, 
 But greater charms in you abound ; 
 None of those looks with which, as darts, 
 Your eyes transfix the hardest hearts. 
 How oft, when by your beauty smit, 
 Or by your grace or sparkling wit, 
 I ve said, and I can quickly prove, 
 That Philis merits truest love ? 
 
 We cannot mistake a true sensibility, the accent of 
 passion, or, if you please, of pleasure, in these stanzas, 
 addressed to an Aminte who is unknown to us : 
 
 When simply with two words you chose 
 To make my pains forever cease ; 
 When I had felt a martyr s woes, 
 You oped the skies and gave me peace. 
 Your charms, which nothing can eclipse, 
 Conceal d the rigor of your part, 
 Love s lures were all upon your lips, 
 And all his shafts went to my heart. 
 You took at once a beauty new, 
 A radiance vieiug that above. 
 
174: CHAPTER II. 
 
 Ah ! how mine eyes were then on you, 
 And how your eyes saw me in love ! 
 
 Here, in a very different style, are some verses, 
 which, twenty years later, Saint-Evremond would not 
 have disavowed. Yoiture is writing to the Duke 
 d Enghien on his recovery from a disease by which 
 it was thought he would be carried off, after the cam 
 paign in Germany, in 1615 : 
 
 I much rejoice, my lord, to know 
 
 Your safe return from Allemagne, 
 
 From sickness, too, that laid you low, 
 
 Just at the close of the campaign ; 
 
 Spreading a hope throughout all Spain, 
 
 That Heaven at last would show it grace 
 
 By cutting short your fearful race, 
 
 And that undoubted valor stay 
 
 Which it so dreads to face. 
 
 But, seignior, let me know, I pray, 
 
 Does Death, who, on the battle-fields, 
 
 Mid cries and terrible alarms, 
 
 Mid flames, and swords, and spears, and shields, 
 
 The noise and rage of clashing arms, 
 
 Appears for you to have some charms, 
 
 And seem d so very fine before 
 
 To you array d in garb of war : 
 
 Does he appear the same, I pray, 
 
 When leisurely he takes his way 
 
 Towards one too sick to hold his head ; 
 
 And has he not an ugly grin, 
 
 When cold and stiff he saunters in, 
 
 To take a man from out his bed ? etc. 
 
 In justice to Yoiture, it must be acknowledged : 
 he is the creator of a particular literature the litera 
 ture of society, if the expression may be allowed. 
 
M 1 -" DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 175 
 
 He excelled in playful and light poetry; in that kind 
 of trifling verse in which he has since had so many 
 insipid imitators ; which Yoltaire carried so far, and 
 which forms the best part, the truest title, to his 
 poetic glory. Voiture was indeed the miniature Yol 
 taire of the hotel de Eambouillet. 
 
 I leave him, after saying to his honor that, though 
 an attendant at the court, he had not the manners of 
 a courtier. Yoiture is the first example of a man of 
 letters who preserved his independence among the 
 greatest lords: he had rather the saucy tone and 
 manners of his successors of the end of the eighteenth 
 century. He was very caustic, and therefore much 
 dreaded. Great care was taken not to incur one of 
 his epigrams, for they were sharp swift arrows that 
 flew all over Paris, tearing their poor victim to pieces 
 in a thousand different places at the same time. The 
 Duke d Enghien, who loved to laugh, and who could 
 appreciate a joke, because he himself had great wit, 
 agreed perfectly with Yoiture, saying, how r ever, 
 " He would be insupportable, if he was one of our 
 selves." Besides, Yoiture, still surpassing his disci 
 ples of the eighteenth century, had procured an ex 
 cellent post through his success in society. He was 
 appointed introducer of ambassadors to his Royal 
 Highness, Gaston, Duke of Orleans. He was also 
 appointed an officer of finance, in which capacity he 
 
1T6 CHAPTER II. 
 
 seldom served, although he thence derived a hand 
 some income. lie had been intrusted with more 
 than one important mission, principally to the Count- 
 Duke d Olivares. In person he was well made, and 
 he dressed himself in the best taste. It was his office 
 to be the chevalier, the lover, and, as they then said, 
 the mourant (dying man) of all the belles, especially 
 of the pretty Mademoiselle Paulet, whose somewhat 
 bold manners and blond hair had won for her the 
 name of the lioness of the hotel de Rambouillet. 
 
 Such was the society into which, about the year 
 1635 or 1636 after the great ball which bore off 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon from the Carmelites the 
 Princess de Conde introduced her daughter, with her 
 son, the young Duke d Enghien. They did not enter 
 it unprepared. The hotel de Conde was also the 
 rendezvous of the best company. Situated in the vast 
 space at present occupied by the Hue de Conde, the 
 street, place, and theatre de 1 Odeon, as far as the 
 Rue des Fosses-Monsieur-le-Prince, it was, says Sati- 
 val, 1 magnificently built, and Madame the Princess 
 did its honors with a dignity almost royal, tempered 
 with grace and wit. Lenet, to whom we must always 
 refer in regard to every thing connected with the 
 
 1 Vol. ii., p. 66. It was the ancient hotel de Gondi, the most magnifi 
 cent of the times, says again Sauval, Ibid., p. 181. Perelle has engraved 
 the h6tel and the gardens. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 177 
 
 Condes, informs us that Madame the Princess had 
 bestowe d great pains upon the manners of her chil 
 dren. " Marguerite de Montmorency, 1 who had been 
 the beauty, grace, and majesty of her times, and who 
 was proportionably so in advanced age, even till her 
 death, had always around her a circle of the most 
 agreeable and intellectual ladies of the court. Near 
 her were found all the most gallant, the most hon- 
 nele, and most elevated, both by birth and merit. 
 The young prince became pleased with this society. 
 He frequented it continually, and from it received 
 the first tincture of that noble and gallant civility 
 which he has ever possessed, which he still preserves 
 towards ladies. . . . Mademoiselle de Bourbon, his 
 sister, who was afterwards the Duchess de Longue- 
 ville, possessed great spirit and extraordinary beau 
 ty." We can then easily conceive how the two 
 young people were received at the hotel de Kam- 
 bouillet. From the first moment, they gave it the 
 greatest lustre. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon, the person whom we 
 have described, with beautiful blue eyes, light hair, 
 fine form, careless and languishing air, was formed 
 exactly, by the bent of her mind and character, to 
 become an accomplished pupil of the hotel de Ram- 
 
 1 Lenet, edit. Michaud, pp. 447 and 450. 
 
178 CHAPTER n. 
 
 bouillet. There was in her an innate depth of pride, 
 which slumbered in ordinary life, but, at intervals, 
 was promptly aroused. Her mind was of the finest 
 stamp, but its delicacy often turned to subtilty. 
 Especially the tender, Platonic gallantry, which was 
 the order of the day, was calculated to charm without 
 causing her fear, for her rank protected her ; and, 
 besides, she says in the most humble of confessions, 
 the pleasures of sense never attracted her. What 
 touched her, and ended in misleading her, was a 
 desire to be loved, and also the wish to appear, to 
 show, as they then said, the power of her mind and 
 of her eyes. 
 
 Her brother, the Duke d Enghien, had her hau 
 teur, but nothing whatever of her delicacy. In spite 
 of all the efforts of his mother, and the example of 
 his sister, the easy manner of the warrior always 
 marked him ; and he often carried freedom of thought 
 and language even to license. Though not hand 
 some, he was well made ; and, when elegantly 
 dressed, he presented a fine appearance. His keen 
 eyes, very aqueline nose, somewhat decayed teeth, 
 abundant and usually disordered hair, gave him an 
 eagle-like look when animated. 1 He possessed an 
 
 1 One is deceived in expecting to become acquainted with the great 
 Conde, by seeing the celebrated portrait of Nanteuil. This portrait is 
 of 1662. It represents Conde fatigued and grown old, after the civil war. 
 
M LLK DE BOUKBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUILLET. 179 
 
 agreeable mind, a gayety which was most freely ex- 
 hibited in the midst of dangers, and which did not 
 abandon him in prison. Whatever may be said of 
 him, he was full of heart. He loved his friends, and 
 he never betrayed one of them. He exacted much 
 from them, but he also gave them much. He lav 
 ished their blood, as well as his own, upon the battle 
 field ; but he promoted their interests, and demanded 
 for them more than for himself. Any other person, 
 after the battle of Kocroy, would have been jealous 
 of Gassion, who was said to have advised the ma 
 noeuvre which decided the day ; he himself, from the 
 field of battle, demanded for Gassion the baton of 
 Marshal of France, and the office of Lieutenant-Gen 
 eral for Sirot, .who, at the head of the reserve, had 
 completed the victory. "When, in the fight of the Eue 
 Saint-Antoine, escaping with difficulty from the car 
 nage, harassed with fatigue, defeated, covered with 
 blood, he arrived, sword in hand, at the house of 
 Mademoiselle, his first exclamation, accompanied 
 with a torrent of tears, was, " Ah ! madame, you see 
 a man who has lost all his friends !" At Brussels, 
 when negotiating his return to France, he stipulated 
 also for a similar grace to those who had followed 
 him. He wrote very spirited verses, but they were 
 
 We must look for the conqueror of Eocroy and of Lens, in the portraits 
 of Haret, of Michel Lasue, and especially of Duret. 
 
180 CHAPTER n. 
 
 satirical and somewhat soldierlike. 1 He once loved, 
 in the Spanish fashion, according to all the rules of 
 the hotel de Rambouillet. We shall presently make 
 known the object of this touching passion, which 
 does lasting honor to the great Conde ; but we 
 may here say that she was a heroine worthy of the 
 hero. 
 
 [Represent to yourself these two young persons at the 
 hotel de Rambouillet. There Conde amused himself 
 and laughed freely with Yoiture and the wits around 
 him ; but his favorite was Comeille. The latter, who 
 was poor, and somewhat fond of money, complained 
 to Segrais, a Normand like himself, 2 that the Prince 
 de Conde, who professed so much admiration for his 
 works, had never made him large presents. Segrais 
 did not then know, that until the death of his father 
 in 1646, the Duke d Enghien had nothing but his 
 glory, that he was unable to give the least pension ; 
 and what pension, I ask, would have been worth so 
 much as the presence of Conde at the first represen 
 tation of Cinna, and the sobs which escaped him at 
 those memorable words : 
 
 Let us be friends, Cinna ; tia I who ask thec, etc. 
 
 We should remark in passing that this same Conde, 
 
 1 See farther on. a Mmoirts anecdotes, p. 108. 
 
DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE KAMBOUILLET. 181 
 
 who was the enthusiastic admirer of Corneille, be 
 came the friend of Bossuet, and the faithful defender 
 of Moliere. He had seen Bossuet almost a child be 
 ginning his career as a preacher at the hotel de Ram- 
 bouillet ; he had been present at, and had thought of 
 taking part in the brilliant struggles of his doctor- 
 ship : near the close of his life he sought his conver 
 sation, and found in him not only the most eloquent, 
 but the most exact historian, the most faithful painter 
 of Rocroy, especially the most worthy interpreter of 
 that great heart, immortal dwelling of the beautiful 
 and good. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon soon became one of the 
 most brilliant ornaments of the hotel de Rambouillet. 
 She there met the Marchioness de Sable, still beauti 
 ful, and celebrated for her admiration of Spanish 
 manners, and for her loves with Montmorency. Ma 
 dame de Sable guided the tot steps of her youth, 
 and twenty-five years after, received her at that com 
 mon rendezvous of noble disabused hearts, religion. 
 But Mademoiselle de Bourbon was then in the morn 
 ing of life ; and, little thinking of the storms that 
 awaited her, she yielded herself, on leaving the Car 
 melites, to all the pleasures which came before her. 
 
 Like her brother, she admired Corneille ; but she 
 had a particular taste for Yoiture, and this taste never 
 forsook her. She thought, she spoke continually of 
 
 16 
 
182 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Yoiture, like Madame de Sevigne. It was not the 
 charm of his wit alone that pleased her ; she was, 
 doubtless, touched with the sensibility which we have 
 shown that he possessed, and which places Yoiture 
 above all his rivals. In the famous quarrel concern 
 ing the two sonnets upon Job, and upon Uranie, 
 which divided the court and the city, the salons 
 and the Academy, when every one was for Benserade, 
 Madame de Longueville, then the arbiter of taste 
 and of elegance, took in hand the cause of Yoiture, 
 and brought all to her opinion. A whole volume has 
 been written on this quarrel : it is not exhausted, and 
 we shall hereafter take it up by aid of new pieces, 
 which, in showing for the first time the motives of 
 Madame de Longueville, will reveal to us the delicacy 
 of her mind, which belongs to that of her heart. 1 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon became acquainted, also, 
 at the hotel de Rambouillet, with the cultivated, mod 
 erate, discreet Chapelain, the sincere friend of good 
 literature, and who might have become a writer of 
 the third, perhaps, even of the second rank, as well 
 as his friend, Pelisson, if, as was said by Boileau, 
 whose shafts of wit are all serious judgments, he had 
 been contented to write in prose. Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon conceived a great esteem for Chapelain, and, 
 
 1 Farther on, chap. iv. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE EAMBOUILLET. 183 
 
 when she married, she made Monsieur de Longue- 
 ville give him a pension sufficient to enable him to 
 labor in security upon that famous Pucelle, which 
 was to be the Iliad of France, which was applauded 
 in advance in the salons of the Rue Saint-Thomas-du- 
 Louvre, and of which the young admirer of Corneille 
 and Yoiture was already beginning to grow weary. 
 
 Among the mediocre wits whom she met in the 
 illustrious hotel, was Godeau, the little abbe, who 
 was called in the house the dwarf of Julie, and who 
 during all his life, by turns bishop of Grasse and of 
 Yence, kept up a written correspondence, half devo 
 tional, half gallant, with Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 and Madame de Longueville. 1 There was Esprit, too, 
 
 1 Observe the style in which he writes from Grasse, the 18th Decem 
 ber, 1637, to Mademoiselle de Bourbon: " Mademoiselle, I am proud to 
 learn that she , who occupies all hearts, should fear that she is not in my 
 memory. Though it were a temple, you should there have a place ; judge, 
 then, whether I have no interest in preserving you in it, in order that 
 you may render it precious, poor and unfaithful as it was before. It is 
 principally at the altar, Mademoiselle, that you are present with me. I 
 truly ask God to add other lilies to those of your crown, but I ask him, 
 also, to mingle with them the love of the thorns of his Son, and to 
 strengthen you in the generous contempt of the grandeur in which I 
 have seen (an allusion to the thought entertained by Mademoiselle de 
 
 Bourbon of becoming a Carmelite)." Elsewhere, May 3, 1641 
 
 " Our Lord is very good, but he is jealous, and he would prefer that we 
 should never have tasted his spirit, than to become digusted with it, and 
 suffer it to be quenched. Eoses have thorns which defend their beauty, 
 but princesses are in the midst of roses which do not secure them 
 against the temptations which the pleasures of the world inspire. . . ." 
 See Letters of M. Godeau, Bishop of Vence, on different subjects; Paris, 
 1713, p. 17 and p. 143. 
 
184: CHAPTEB II. 
 
 of the French Academy, who played all sorts of parts : 
 at first, a man of letters and messmate of the chan 
 cellor, who placed him in the Academy, then suddenly 
 a priest of POratoire, then a man of the world again, 
 and father of a family, who could not have been de 
 void of merit, for he had the esteem of the best 
 judges of his times : attached afterwards to the em 
 bassy of Minister, one of the pensioners of M. and 
 Madame de Longueville, preceptor of their nephews, 
 the young princes de Conti, holding a prominent 
 place in the salon of Madame de Sable, consulted by 
 La Rochefoucauld, and even passing for one of the 
 authors of the Maximes, a reputation which he might 
 have preserved if he had not been so imprudent as 
 to print a work in 1678. J 
 
 I should be scrupulous, were I to forget Madame 
 Scudery as one of the frequenters of the hotel de 
 Rambouillet. She was certainly very homely, yet a 
 person of true talent, writing perhaps too rapidly, 
 but with a correctness and polish which were not 
 common in 1640. She enjoyed and merited great 
 consideration. Leibnitz sought the honor of her cor 
 respondence. She wrote verses which were relished 
 in their time, and which still seem to us very agree- 
 
 1 De la Faussete des Vertits Jwmainw, by M. Esprit ; in-12, two vol. ; 
 Paris, 1678. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT THE HOTEL DE RAMBOUTLLET. 185 
 
 able. Her romances are so long, and the episodes in 
 them so embarrassing to one another, that it is abso 
 lutely impossible to read them at the present day. 
 But those who dare to enter this labyrinth will meet 
 here and there portraits well drawn, and resembling, 
 though somewhat flattered, the illustrious originals, 
 poorly disguised under Greek, Persian, and Eoman 
 names; exact descriptions of the finest places, and 
 most magnificent palaces of France and of Paris, 
 transported to Rome or to Armenia ; great sentiments 
 then in vogue ; tendernesses of a refined Platonism ; 
 conversations sometimes a little insipid, sometimes a 
 little refined, but which give a very agreeable idea of 
 the real conversations which Madame Scudery tried 
 to imitate. Madame de Lafayette will, some day, 
 abridge these pictures and these discourses ; she will 
 take from them these insipidities and weaknesses; 
 she will soften these subtilties ; but she will preserve 
 the charm of these heroic and gallant manners, and 
 the delicate minds, whose delights are in Zdide, and 
 The Princesses de Cleves, in the Berenice of Racine, 
 the Psyche of Moliere, and of Corneille, will not 
 read without pleasure, certain chapters of the Grand 
 Cyrus. Georges Scudery himself, insupportable on 
 account of his self-love and bravado style, was a 
 man of honor, reliable as a friend, and who, in the 
 most trying moments, before Mazarin, on whom he 
 
 16* 
 
186 CHAPTER II. 
 
 depended, preserved proudly his fidelity to Conde 
 and his sister. 
 
 It is proper to mention these different persons, be 
 cause they reappear in the life of Madame de Longue- 
 ville. At the hotel de Rambouillet, they attached 
 themselves to Mademoiselle de Bourbon, and began 
 her reputation, which grew rapidly from year to year. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon passed the winters in 
 Paris, at the hotel de Conde, at the Louvre, at the 
 Palais Cardinal, in some hotels of the Place-Royal, 
 especially at the hotel de Rambouillet, amid balls, 
 concerts, comedies, gallant conversations ; and every 
 where she was brilliant by the graces of her mind 
 and person. In summer she was occupied with other 
 pleasures : she went to Fontainebleau with the court, 
 or to visit her mother at Chantilly, or to see Cardi 
 nal Richelieu and the duchess d Aiguillon at Ruel, 
 or perhaps to Liancourt, to visit the Duchess of 
 Liancourt, Jeanne de Schomberg ; or perhaps again, 
 to Labarre, near Paris, to pass some time with the 
 Baroness Du Vigean, who, though of inferior rank, 
 but of great fortune, had the most amiable family, 
 a son, the Marquis de Fors, one of the bravest com 
 rades of the Duke d Enghien, and two charming 
 daughters, who were greatly sought by all the young 
 and gallant nobility. Before as well as after her 
 marriage, Mademoiselle de Bourbon divided her time 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON AT CHANTILLY. 187 
 
 among these different residences, which rivalled each 
 other in magnificence and charms. Naturally, it 
 was to her mother, at Chantilly, that she went most 
 frequently. 
 
 We must look in Du Cerceau 1 and in Perelle 2 to 
 know what Chantilly was at the beginning and at 
 the end of the seventeenth century. This vast and 
 beautiful domain had long belonged to the family of 
 Montmorency, and it came into that of Conde, in 
 1632, through Madame the Princess, on the death of 
 her brother, decapitated at Toulouse. It assembles 
 then the souvenirs of the two greatest military fami 
 lies of ancient France. Anne and Louis de Bourbon 
 pervade it, and their spirits will cover and protect 
 Chantilly so long as there shall remain among us any 
 patriotic piety, any national pride. The Montmoren- 
 cys transferred the charming chateau to the Condes a 
 little before the renaissance, which Du Cerceau has 
 described in all its details. It was the great Conde, 
 during the last fifteen years of his life, who, finding 
 in the vicinity the most beautiful woods, a true forest, 
 with a canal resembling a river, abundant waters and 
 vast gardens, drew from them the wonders which the 
 
 1 The most excellent Buildings of France, in-fol., 1607, vol. ii. Many 
 plates of the castle, none of the garden. 
 
 a Views of the finest Buildings of France, by Perelle. General view of 
 the Chateau de Chantilly, of its canals, fountains, and groves, etc. 
 
188 CHAPTER II. 
 
 graver of Perelle has preserved for us, and which 
 Bossuet could not help praising, those fountains, 
 those cascades, those grottoes, those pavilions, " those 
 superb avenues, those water-jets which ceased neither 
 day nor night." 1 They have ceased now. The bad 
 taste of the seventeenth century and revolutions have 
 destroyed Chantilly. A prince worthy of his name 
 had undertaken to restore it to its first beauty. He 
 had wished to expend upon it the fortune which the 
 mishaps of the house of Conde had brought to him, 
 and that which he held from his own house. The 
 young captain had dreamed of returning at a future 
 day, after having extended and secured French do 
 minion in Africa, to repose with his lieutenants in the 
 sacred home of the Montmorencys and the Condes, re 
 stored and embellished by his own hand. Providence 
 ordered otherwise, and Chantilly still awaits a re 
 pairing hand. But let us return to the Chantilly of 
 the middle of the seventeenth century, before the 
 epoch of its great magnificence, between the pe 
 riods described respectively by Du Cerceau and 
 Perelle. 
 
 It was already a delicious abode. Madame the 
 Princess delighted in it, and there passed, with her 
 children, almost every summer. She brought with 
 
 1 Bossuet, funeral oration on the great Conde. 
 
M LLK DE BOURBON AT CHANTILLY. 189 
 
 her a little court, composed of the friends of her son 
 and daughter, with some of the choicest wits, and 
 particularly Voiture, with whom they could not dis 
 pense. In default of Yoiture, they had his small 
 change, Montreuil or Sarrazin, attaches of the house 
 of Conde, and who were successively secretaries of 
 Conde, of the Prince de Conti, and of Madame de 
 Longueville. They were men of fine spirit ; and 
 Boileau, in his letter to Perrault, names Sarrazin after 
 Yoiture. M. the Prince, for whom the country pos 
 sessed but little charm, remained usually in Paris, 
 to prosecute his designs and his fortune. Madame 
 the Princess did not dislike diversion, and young 
 people devoted themselves to her with ardor. Court 
 was paid to the ladies. During the heat of the day, 
 they amused themselves in reading romances or po 
 etry ; in the evening they took long promenades and 
 held long conversations. They, lived after the man 
 ner of Astrea, in awaiting the adventures of the great 
 Cyrus. Even in 1650, after the death of her hus 
 band, during the captivity of her two sons and of her 
 son-in-law and the exile of her daughter, the troubles 
 of the civil war and the noise of arms, Lenet relates 
 to us how the Princess de Conde passed the time at 
 Chantilly : l " The promenades were the most agree- 
 
 1 Edition Michaud, p. 229. 
 
190 CHAPTER II. 
 
 able in the -world. . . . The evenings were not less 
 diverting. The company repaired to the apartment 
 of the princess, where they played at different games. 
 There were often fine voices, and especially agreea 
 ble conversations and stories of intrigues, which made 
 life pass as pleasantly as possible. . . . These diver 
 sions were interrupted by bad news, occasionally 
 brought or written. It was a very great pleasure to 
 see all the young ladies sad or gay, according to the 
 rare or frequent visits made to them, and according 
 to the nature of the letters which they received ; and 
 as the affairs of each were pretty well known, it was 
 easy to enter into them enough in advance to be 
 amused. Every moment some visitors or some mes 
 sages arrived, which caused great jealousy among 
 those who did not receive them ; and all this occa 
 sioned songs, sonnets, and elegies, which were not 
 less diverting to the indifferent than to the inter 
 ested. They made rhymes and enigmas, which occu 
 pied spare hours. Some might be seen walking along 
 the banks of the ponds, in the avenues of the garden 
 or park, on the terrace or on the downs, alone or in 
 troops, according to the humor of the moment ; while 
 others were singing an air or reciting verses, or read 
 ing romances on a balcony, or walking or reclining 
 upon the grass. Never did any one see so beautiful 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT CHANTILLY. 191 
 
 a place, in so beautiful a season, filled with better or 
 more amiable company." 
 
 But before 1650, before the Fronde, which divided 
 all French society, Chantilly was a still more agreea 
 ble abode. Judge of it by this letter, which Sarrazin 
 wrote from thence, at the commencement of 1648, to 
 Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, at that time Madame 
 de Montausier, who had just set out, with her hus 
 band, for their government of Saintonge and d An- 
 goumois : l 
 
 "Whatever of that beautiful land they may say, 
 Where homage devout was paid to Astree; 
 However superbly or brightly they may 
 That mansion enchanted portray, 
 
 Where am rous Armida and am rous Alcine 
 Then captives enamor d consign d ; 
 Those gardens, abounding with pleasures refined, 
 
 Which boasted, despite Falerine, 
 Of holding the proudest Paladins confined : 
 
 How charming soever one might 
 
 The tale of their glories relate, 
 They match not in beauty the spot whence I date, 
 
 The spot whence to you I now write 
 A truth whose resemblance to fiction is great. 
 
 The hum which the zephyr excites among the 
 leaves of the grove when night is about to cover the 
 earth, was gently agitating the forest of Chantilly, 
 
 1 (Euvres de Sarrazin, at Paris, in 4, 1656, p. 231. This first edition 
 was reproduced in two small volumes in 1663, and in 1685. In 1674, 
 appeared the Nouvelles (Euxres de Sarrazin, in two parts, containing 
 prose and verse. 
 
192 CHAPTER II. 
 
 when, upon the principal road, three nymphs ap 
 peared to the solitary Tircis. They were not those 
 poor wood-nymphs, more worthy of pity than envy, 
 who, for lodging and clothing, have nothing but the 
 bark of the trees. Their equipage was superb, and 
 their clothing brilliant. . . . The majestic air of the 
 oldest impressed all who approached her with pro 
 found respect, The one by her side displayed a 
 beauty which neither painting, sculpture, nor poetry 
 have ever realized. The third had that easy air that 
 is given to the Graces. 
 
 Slowly two demigods beside her stroll d, 
 The one of aspect sweet, the other bold ; 
 The one walk d like a conq ror in his might, 
 
 And even Mars would have appall d ; 
 The other could with truth enough be call d 
 
 The earth s delight. 
 
 That is to say, Madame, yesterday evening, at twi 
 light, I met, on the great road to Chantilly, Madame 
 the Princess, who was never in better health, accom 
 panied by Madame de Longueville, who never looked 
 more beautiful, and Madame de Saint-Loup, 1 who 
 was never more gay, all three in deshabille and in 
 a calash, followed by the Princes de Conde and de 
 Conti. . . . Madame the Princess, perceiving me, 
 
 Mademoiselle Chateignier de La Kocheposay, one of the prettiest of 
 women, and much courted by the Duke de Candale, the brother of 
 Mademoiselle d Epernon. 
 
I>E BOUKIiON AT CH.VNTILLT. 193 
 
 exclaimed : Sarrazin, I wish you to sit down this 
 moment, and write to Madame de Montausier, that 
 Chantilly was never more beautiful, that time there 
 never passed more pleasantly, that her society was 
 never more desired, and that she is making a fool of 
 herself by staying at Saintonge, while we are here : 
 
 Tell her what we do each day, 
 
 Tell her every thing we say. 
 
 In obedience to command, 
 
 Lo ! I take my pen in hand. 
 When gay Aurora, on her endless race 
 In far-off India, shows her smiling face, 
 And flocks of little birds, roused from their rest, 
 Sing sweetly mong the trees so gayly dress d, 
 And tardy serfs go forth to sow or reap, 
 
 At Chantilly we re fast asleep. 
 So, when the night her sombre vestment spreads, 
 And Cynthia mid the stars her radiance sheds, 
 When now past midnight s goal she onward speeds, 
 
 When calm the noise of day succeeds, 
 When all throughout the world to sleep betake, 
 
 At Chantilly we re wide awake. 
 
 And oh ! between these two extremes, 
 
 What careless, happy lives lead we ! 
 
 And oh ! this mansion of Silvie 1 
 
 Gives joys by night, by day sweet dreams ! 
 
 Music we have of every sort, 
 Of lutes, and violins, and voice ; 
 And in the waods we oft rejoice, 
 With dogs and horns, to take the hunter s sport. 
 Sometimes on horseback off we fly, 
 And at the swiftest speed we try 
 To catch the ring suspended high. 
 In tilting, too, we pleasure take, 
 
 * See the pretty engraving of Parelle. 
 
 IT 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 And many handsome tourneys make, etc. 
 
 And shall I here, too, make you find 
 The list of good things furnish d for our mind ? 
 Say Ablancourt, Calprenede, and Corneille, 
 
 Or rather, vulgarly to speak, 
 
 Say verse, and hist ry, and romance, 
 
 Divert us daily without fail, 
 And that our joys are never marr d perchance ? etc. 
 
 We may by this judge what Chantilly must have 
 been eight or ten years before, when all there 
 were young; when the great Conde was still the 
 Duke d Enghien; Madame de Longueville, Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon ; Madame de Montausier, Made 
 moiselle de Kambouillet ; when, instead of the civil 
 war, a flourishing peace or glorious victories filled 
 every heart with gladness. The Duke d Enghien 
 was never there except amid a crowd of brave and 
 gallant gentlemen, who afterwards fought with him 
 at Kocroy, at Fribourg, at Dunkirk, at Lens, but who 
 then shared his pleasures at the hotel de Conde and 
 at Chantilly devoted confidants of his designs and of 
 his loves. Among these were the Duke de Kemours, 
 so suddenly slain, and whose brother inheritor of his 
 title, of his beauty, and his bravery perished also in 
 a frightful duel in the midst of the Fronde ; Coligny, 
 killed also, at an early age, in a duel of another 
 character ; his brother, Dandelot, afterwards Duke 
 de Chatillon, one of the heroes of Lens, who promised 
 to be a great warrior, and who perished at the attack 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AT CHANTILLY. 195 
 
 of Charenton, during the first days of the Fronde ; 
 Laval, the son of the Marquis de Sable, handsome, 
 brave, and witty, who distinguished himself, and was 
 slain at the siege of Dunkirk ; La Moussaye, his aid- 
 de-camp and principal officer in every battle, who, 
 too, died young at Stenay, in 1650 ; Chabot, who 
 married the beautiful and rich heiress of the Rohans ; 
 Pisani, the son of the Marchioness de Rambouillet, 
 who fell sword in hand ; the Marquis de Fors Du 
 Vigean, ISTangis, Tavannes, Senecay, and many others, 
 among whom arose the young Montmorency-Boutte- 
 ville, afterwards Duke Marechal-de-Luxembourg ; all 
 this school of Conde, entirely different from that of 
 Turenne, into which the Duke d Enghien early 
 breathed his genius and the divine part of art, as 
 Napoleon so well expressed it, the instinct of war, 
 the glance which seized the strategic point of an 
 affair, with audacity and obstinacy in execution; 
 that admirable school, which began at Rocroy, and 
 from which arose twelve marshals, without counting 
 those generals who sustained the honor of France to 
 the very end of the century. These were the youth 
 who amused themselves at Chantilly, preluding glory 
 by gallantry. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon, in selecting companions, 
 was equal to her brother. She formed a connection 
 with the Marchioness de Sable, who became the 
 
196 CHAPTER II. 
 
 friend of her whole life ; but she had younger friends, 
 if not more dear, at least with whom she was more 
 familiar ; she had formed a little private society, com 
 posed chiefly of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet, of Mes- 
 demoiselles Du Yigean, and of her two cousins, Mes- 
 demoiselles de Boutteville. It must be confessed that 
 it was a circle of charming and redoubtable beauties, 
 harmonious in their graceful youth, but destined soon 
 to be separated, and to become rivals or enemies. 
 
 Yoiture, we may conceive, took great care of these 
 beautiful ladies, and especially of Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon : he celebrated her in verse and in prose, in 
 every tune, and upon every occasion. Even in his 
 letters written to others, he cannot cease speaking of 
 her mind and beauty: "The mind of Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon," says he, " is all that can cause one to 
 doubt whether her beauty is the most perfect thing 
 in the world." lie is continually comparing her to 
 an angel : 
 
 " Of pearls and stars and flowers of finest shade, 
 Bourbon, the heaven hath thy complexion made, 
 And mid thy charms it hath enshrined 
 An angel s mind." 
 
 In another place he says : 
 
 "The Bourbon, you might safely swear, 
 Seeing her skin so fresh, so fair, 
 Had from a lily sprung." 
 
 It is to her again that he addresses this agreeable 
 
M".K DE BOURBON AT CHANTILLY. 197 
 
 song, intended, doubtless, to be chanted in a low tone 
 by the side of Mademoiselle de Bourbon, as she lay 
 dozing in one of the groves of Chantilly : 
 
 " Our Aurora mid roses 
 Now gently reposes ; 
 Let each keep silence once more, 
 And let no one disturb her, 
 Unless it be life to restore." 1 
 
 And if these ladies staid too long in the country, 
 when Yoiture was not with them, he called them 
 back to Paris, in his burlesque, sentimental com 
 plaints." 2 
 
 But they did not spend the whole summer at Chan 
 tilly. Madame the Princess possessed several other 
 country-seats in the vicinity : Marlou, La "Versine, 
 Meru, I lsle-Adam, charming places to which she often 
 went. She was also obliged to visit the cardinal and 
 Madame d Aiguillon in their beautiful summer resi 
 dence at Ruel, on the borders of the Seine, between 
 Saint-Germain and Paris. 3 The pleasures of these 
 places were very different from those of Chantilly. 
 
 1 Edit, of 1745, vol. 1st, etc. Our Aurora, hitherto perfectly un 
 known, is in fact Mademoiselle de Bourbon herself, according to an. 
 old tradition preserved by the manuscript collection of songs, called 
 Recueil de Maurepas, for opposite to the first couplet this note is 
 found : For Mademoiselle de Bourbon, sleeping. 
 
 3 Ibid., p. 170. See also the song to Madame la Princesse, to the 
 air Des Landririj ibid., p. 129. 
 
 3 See the different views of Kuel, by Parelle. 
 
 IT* 
 
198 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Art reigned at Euel. Like Paris, it had a theatre, 
 where the cardinal caused the representation of 
 pieces with machinery brought from Italy. He gave 
 great mythological ballets, like those of the Louvre, 
 and feasts of a magnificence almost royal ; whilst at 
 Chantilly, much more removed from Paris, there was 
 doubtless grandeur and opulence, but a grandeur full 
 of quiet, and an opulence which placed especially at its 
 service the beauties of nature. Ruel was also quite 
 as lively as the Palais-Cardinal. Richelieu labored 
 there with his ministers : there he received the court, 
 France, Europe. Business was there mingled with 
 diversion. The Duchess d Aiguillon was worthy of 
 her uncle, ambitious and prudent, devoted to him to 
 whom she owed every thing, sharing his cares as well 
 as his fortune, and governing admirably his house. 
 She was still young enough, of a regular beauty, and 
 not implicated in any affair of gallantry. Calumny 
 or slander had attacked her relations with Eichelieu, 
 and even with Madame Du Yigean. She had more 
 sense than wit, and was by no means a precieuse, al 
 though she frequented the hotel de Eambouillet. 
 Madame the Princess did not like Eichelieu ; she 
 could not pardon the death of her brother, Montmo- 
 rency, whom all her prayers and tears had not been 
 able to save; but she subscribed to the political 
 opinions of her husband. She had been obliged to 
 
DE BOUKBON AT RUEL. 199 
 
 agree to the marriage of the Duke cl Enghien with 
 Mademoiselle de Breze, and she was continually with 
 his children at the Palais-Cardinal and at Ruel. She 
 was received there in a manner that was unavoidable, 
 and the poets of the cardinal chanted the praises of 
 both the mother and daughter. Richelieu, as is well 
 known, had five poets whom he employed to labor 
 for his theatre : Bois-Robert, Colletet, 1 Etoile, Cor- 
 neille, and Rotrou. They were called the five authors, 
 and as such, produced in common several pieces : 
 VAveugle de Smyrne, La Comedie des TuUeries, etc. 
 This did not prevent the presence of other poets at 
 the palace of his Eminence : Georges Scudery,Yoiture 
 himself, who paid court to Richelieu and celebrated the 
 Duchess d Aiguillon. It was at Ruel that, meeting 
 in an avenue Queen Anne, and challenged by her to 
 make some verses on the spot, Yoiture improvised 
 that little piece, remarkable especially for the ease 
 and boldness with which he ventured to speak to her 
 of Buckingham. But the two favorites of the car 
 dinal were Desmarets and Bois-Robert ; he employed 
 their pens upon every occasion, in what was light as 
 well as in what was serious. It seems that Desmarets 
 had been instructed to do the poetic honors of Ruel 
 to Madame the Princess and to her daughter. We 
 find in fact, in the collection, now rare enough and very 
 little read, of the works of the king s counsellor and 
 
200 CHAPTER II. 
 
 minister of war, Desmarets, dedicated to Richelieu, and 
 handsomely printed, 1 a multitude of very agreeable 
 verses, which were sung in the mythological ballets 
 of Euel, and of which several are addressed to Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon, and to Madame the Princess. 
 In&Mascarade of the Graces and the Loves, addressing 
 themselves to Madame the Duchess d^Aiguillon in 
 presence of Madame the Princess and of Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon, the Graces say to the latter : 
 
 Wonderful beauty ! offspring too of royalty, 
 Whose charms to own the gods have e en repined, 
 
 We truly thought we wore but three, 
 Yet now a thousand graces in thee find. 
 
 These are but insipid affairs, w r hile the two follow 
 ing pieces have at least the advantage of describing 
 the person of Mademoiselle de Bourbon, as she then 
 was before her marriage, a few years after the por 
 trait of Dncayer. We here see Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon beginning to fulfil the promise- of her 
 youth, and the angelic face described to us by Ma 
 dame de Motteville, already accompanied by other 
 attractions of true beauty : 
 
 To Mademoiselle de Bourbon. 
 
 Thou with whose charms naught can compare, 
 
 Pride of a nation s heart, 
 Whose beauteous tints, whose graces rare 
 
 The strongest love impart, 
 
 Paris, in-4, 1641. 
 
DE BOURDON* AT LIANCOURT. 201 
 
 To win thee, ah ! why should I aim, 
 
 Since e en the purest flame, 
 
 Though nurtured in the skies, 
 Could not deserve a glance from thy bright eyes ! etc. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Complexion where the rose and lily wed, 
 
 Beauty of magic powers, 
 
 Charming these souls of ours ; 
 Tresses so lustrous, lips so ruby red ; 
 Who ever could resist, who could resign 
 
 Attractions so divine ? etc. 
 
 A few leagues from Chantilly were the beautiful 
 lands of Liancourt, which Jeanne de Schornberg, at 
 first Duchess de Brissac, then Duchess de Liancourt, 
 had converted into a magnificent abode. She was a 
 person of the greatest merit, and we have received 
 from her pen a very remarkable work, 1 destined for 
 the education of her grand-daughter, Mademoiselle de 
 La Roche-Guy on, who, in 1659, married the son of La 
 Rochefoucauld. She took pleasure in planning and 
 carrying out the arrangements of a sumptuous estab 
 lishment. She bought Rue de Seine, the ancient hotel 
 de Bouillon, and erected in its place the hotel de 
 Liancourt, afterwards called the hotel de La Roche 
 foucauld, which extended from the Rue de Seine to 
 the Rue des Augustins, in the space now occupied by 
 the Rue des Beaux Arts. "At Liancourt," says Talle- 
 
 1 Reglement donne par une dame de liaute qualite a madame sa petit- 
 fitte, published first in 1698, reprinted in 1779. 
 
202 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A 
 
 mant, 1 " the duchess had done all that any one could 
 do for avenues and meadows. Every year she added 
 some new beauty." In 1656, Silvestre designed and 
 engraved the different mews of the castle and gar 
 dens^ fountains, cascades, canals, and parterres of 
 Liancourt? Madame the Princess often made a visit 
 to this beautiful place. At one time when the small 
 pox was making fearful ravages in the neighborhood 
 of Chantilly, and in the domains of the princess, 
 Marlou, La Yersine, Meru, she sent her children, 
 with all their young friends, to pass some time at 
 Liancourt. The Mesdemoiselles Du Yigean alone 
 were wanting, having been called to Paris by their 
 mother. The only son of the house, La Eoche- 
 Guyon, was one of the friends of the Duke d Enghien ; 
 he was slain in 1646, while serving under him at the 
 bloody siege of Mardyk. It was autumn. On All- 
 Saints Day, these young ladies performed their devo 
 tions with accustomed exactitude. They then gave 
 themselves up to quiet diversions, and, for want of 
 better, and sharing the dominant taste for wit, also in 
 the company perhaps of Montreuil or Sarrazin, they 
 employed themselves in making rhymes ; so that 
 even on All-Saints Day they addressed to Marlou, 
 
 1 Tallemant, vol. iv., p. 806. 
 
 3 Cotin has made an exact Description de Liancourt in his CEuvres 
 yalantes, second edition, 1665, pp. 108-115. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT LIANCOURT. 203 
 
 where Madame the Princess was then staying, The 
 Life and Miracles of Saint Marguerite Charlotte de 
 Montmorency, Princess de Conde, versified at Lian- 
 court. These verses, says the manuscript from which 
 we borrow these details, 1 were made upon the spot, 
 and the authors appear to have been Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon, and Mesdemoiselles de Rambouillet, de 
 Boutteville, and de Brienne. 
 
 Yet to a living saint, on this Saints Day, 
 A charming saint, we ought to pray. 
 
 As soon as she was born, her matchless eyes 
 
 Beam d like two suns in summer skies : 
 Her cheeks of lilies made her lips, when closed, 
 
 Were beds whereon the rose reposed ; 
 And then in partly opening them to smile, 
 
 Pearls of the East she showed the while, etc. 
 
 It was impossible for them to forget the two amia 
 ble absentees, Mesdemoiselles Du Vigean, who were 
 fatiguing themselves at Paris, while they were passing 
 the time so agreeably at Liancourt. They wrote to 
 them a very long letter in verse, wherein they re 
 gretted their absence, and enumerated their consola 
 tions. These unpublished verses, like the preceding, 
 are also very mediocre ; but it must not be forgotten 
 that they are the impromptus of young girls and 
 noble-born ladies. 2 
 
 Manuscripts of Conrart, in -4, vol. xi., p. 443. * Ibid., p. 851. 
 
204 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Letter of Mademoiselle de Bourbon, and of Mesdemoiselles de 
 Rambouillet, de Boutteville, and de Brienne, sent from 
 Liancourt to Mesdemoiselles Du Vigean at Paris, 
 
 Four clever nymphs, perhaps more free 
 Than even those of wood and sea, 
 To two who with their hearts in pain 
 Curse bitterly the prisoner s chain ; 
 
 We who pretended every wise 
 That praise for us was always stored, 
 That by an arrow from our eyes 
 "We might be everywhere adored. 
 
 Of empire we have been deprived ; 
 We"Ve been forsaken, frown d upon : 
 At Meru, scarce had we arrived, 
 Than to Versine we re forced to run. 
 
 There, too, that foe to female grace, 
 That death to all of woman s charms, 
 Our vanity still to abase, 
 O erwhelm d us with the worst alarms. 
 
 At noise of this disease so fell, 
 Each hurries off with looks forlorn ; 
 For, sooth, to lovers all farewell, 
 If, of our beauty we are shorn ! 
 
 Of Love s keen weapons to make sure. 
 In some place fit for his domains, 
 Wo came at last to Liancourt, 
 Where Flora with sweet Zephyr reigns, 
 
 Where full a hundred walks are found, 
 A hundred fountains and cascades 
 A hundred meads where streams abound, 
 Made for the pleasures of the Naiads. 
 
 A place, like which, there are so few, 
 We hoped some length of time to own, 
 
M LLB DE BOURBON AT LIANOOUKT. 205 
 
 But hero now comes that Kichelieu, : 
 And hence, at last, we must be gone. 
 
 See us, whom lovers all agreed 
 The brightest stars of France to call ; 
 But we are wand ring stars indeed, 
 Who now possess no power at all. 
 
 What was most cnribus and unexpected was, that 
 the mania for rhyming took possession of Conde him 
 self. As we have said, he had much wit and gayety, 
 and he entered willingly into the society with which 
 he was surrounded. In the midst of the Fronde, 
 when war was also carried on by means of songs, he 
 made more than one, bearing his own peculiar stamp. 
 During the first war of Paris, in which Conde, still 
 faithful to the true interests of his house, sided with 
 the court, one of the most ardent chieftains of the 
 opposing party was the Count de Maure, a cadet of 
 the Duke de Mortemart, uncle of Madame de Mon- 
 tespan. husband of the witty Anne Doni d Attichy, 
 intimate friend of Madame de Sable. In the coun 
 cils of the Fronde, the count always favored the most 
 rash resolutions. The Mazarins turned him into ridi 
 cule, and overwhelmed him with a shower of epi 
 grams. Bachaumont, one of the authors of the cel 
 ebrated Voyage de Chapelle et Hachaumont, had 
 
 1 The cardinal, now old and sick, was as much dreaded by these 
 young girls as the smalJ-pox, from which they had been flying. 
 
 18 
 
206 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 written against him some little verses, which termi 
 nated thus : l 
 
 Oh ! a buff-jacket, with black velvet sleeves, 
 Is worn by the great Count de Maure ; 
 And over this hero, whom well it relieves, 
 There is a buff-jacket, with black velvet sleeves : 
 Look out, Sir Conde, one easy perceives 
 You are destined for food to this hero in war. 
 Oh ! a buff-jacket, with black velvet sleeves, 
 Is worn by the great Count de Maure. 
 
 Conde, according to the testimony of Tallemant, 
 whom we have no reason to discredit, added the fol 
 lowing lines : 
 
 He s a blood-thirsty tiger, the worst of his kind, 
 This very same brave Count de Maure ; 
 When to be mong the foremost in fight he s a mind, 
 He s a blood-thirsty tiger, the worst of his kind. 
 But he s not very oft with the foremost we find, 
 Thus is it that Conde was not kill d before. 
 He s a blood-thirsty tiger, the worst of his kind, 
 This very same brave Count de Maure. 
 
 Among his best lieutenants was the Count de Mar- 
 sin, father of the marshal, indeed much superior to 
 him, and a veritable warrior. Conde esteemed him 
 highly, but for all that he did not spare him. One 
 day at table, in drinking his health, he improvised to 
 a tune, then very common, this little song, 2 which has 
 
 1 Tallemant, vol. ii.,p. 837, attributes these couplets to Bachaumont; 
 Madame de Motteville, vol. iii., p. 230, gives them without the author s 
 name, and they are found with many others in a long rnazarinade, en 
 titled, Triolets de Saint- Germain, in-4, 1649. 
 
 3 Library of the Arsenal, Belles-Lettres Francises, No. 70, collection 
 in-fol., entitled : Chansons Nottes, vol. ii., p. 66. 
 
M LLE DE BOURBON AT LIANCOURT. 
 
 207 
 
 never been published, and which seems to us very 
 piquant : 
 
 My dear Marsin, I drink to thec, 
 Mars truly must thy cousin be, 
 
 Bellona sure thy ma, 
 
 But who may be thy pa 
 
 Is more than I can see. 
 Tin, tin, trelin, tin, tin, tin. 
 
 At Liancourt, having nothing to do, and vexed 
 because his sister and her beautiful friends stayed so 
 long at church on All-Saint s Day, he addressed to 
 them the following epigram : l 
 
 Impose on others, if you may, 
 
 A hundred pater-nosters say, 
 
 And mumble o er to day your prayers. 
 
 You re very artful, we believe, 
 
 For, if a beau his love declares, 
 
 You re ready then your prayers to leave. 
 
 Among other friends whom he had with him at 
 Liancourt, was the Marquis de Koussillon, an excel 
 lent officer and man of spirit, together with the intre 
 pid La Moussaye, who was faithful to him to the 
 last, and who, during the captivity of Conde, shut 
 himself up with Madame de Longueville in the cita 
 del of Stenay, where he died. Roussillon and La 
 Moussaye, having been compelled to leave Liancourt 
 for Lyons, Conde, in imitation of his sister s letter to 
 the Mesdemoiselles Du Yigean, wrote, or caused to 
 
 * Manuscripts of Conrart, in-4, vol. xi., p. 848. 
 
208 CHAPTER II. 
 
 he written, one of the same kind to his two absent 
 friends. We give this piece almost entire, because it 
 is written by Conde, or because Conde, at least, had 
 a hand in it, and especially because it describes so 
 naturally the life lead at Liancourt, at Chantilly, and 
 in all the grand abodes of that aristocracy of the 
 seventeenth century, so badly appreciated, and which, 
 during peace, honored and cultivated the arts, which 
 gave to letters a Rochefoucauld, a Retz, a Saint- 
 Evremond, a Saiiit-Simond, without speaking of 
 Madame de Sevigne and Madame de La Fayette, and 
 which, when war broke out, flew to the battle-field, 
 and lavished its blood in the cause of France. These 
 are the verses of the future hero of Rocroy : 
 
 Letter 1 of Mouse igneur the Duke d 1 Enghicn, written from 
 Liancourt to MM. de Roussillon and de La Moussaye 
 at Lyons. 
 
 Since you ve been gone, a hundred dear delights 
 Have e er consumed our days and nights ; 
 
 And to recount these pastimes so diverse, 
 We arc compell d to write in verse. 
 
 Upon the spot most beautiful of earth, 
 
 To pleasures ever giving birth, 
 Where Art, with Nature, every charm employs, 
 
 We daily find a thousand joys ; 
 
 A troop of young and peerless maids, 
 More beautiful by virtue s aids, 
 
 1 Manuscripts of Conrart, in-4, vol. xi., p. 848. 
 
BOURBON AT LIANCOURT. 209 
 
 In sports commingle with a hundred youth, 
 Sage, gallant, handsome too forsooth. 
 
 Each, in a way to envy, e er displays 
 His person and his winning ways | 
 
 At every moment, too, he tries his best 
 To please the one who rules his breast : 
 
 Talks of his love mid groves and promenades, 
 "While leaning o er the bright cascades, 
 
 And really seems the utmost bliss to gain 
 "When sadly he recounts his pain. 
 
 A dozen gallants, blest with stoutest lungs, 
 In comedies employ their tongues ; 
 
 Display their forms in garments rich and rare, 
 And strut with a majestic air. 
 
 At night, we list to charming serenades, 
 Or please ourselves with mascarades ; 
 
 But still, among the pastimes most in quest, 
 The Ballet du Printemps seems best. 
 
 The ladies oft, when favor d by the sky, 
 
 Love on their well-train d nags to fly ; 
 To scare the partridge, give the wolf a chase, 
 
 And o er to Marlou have a race. 
 
 And lovers meantime whipper in their ear, 
 
 Oh ! beauty, to the gods so dear ! 
 Leave birds and beasts, since from your eyes fly darts 
 
 That daily pierce the bravest hearts. 
 
 These are our pastimes, these the sports we take, 
 
 And happiness enough they make. 
 Did you imagine that you hence could bear 
 
 A portion of the joys we share I 1 
 
 1 "Writing in verse had become a great amusement with all this 
 young and ingenious society. Vol. xiii. of the Manuscripts of Con- 
 rart, in-fol., p. 337, contains an epistle in verse to the Duke d Enghien, 
 when he was at Dijon, and only twenty years of age. 
 
 18* 
 
210 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A very natural feeling leads us to inquire into the 
 destiny of this court of young and brave gentlemen, 
 of gay and charming young women, then surrounding 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon and her brother. "We 
 have told that of the gentlemen : all of them became 
 illustrious warriors; most of them died upon the 
 battle-field. But what became of their amiable com 
 panions, that swarm of youthful beauties whom we 
 followed upon the steps of Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 to Chantilly, to Euel, to Liancourt, those five insep 
 arable friends, whose verses, less pleasing than their 
 faces, we have published, Mademoiselle de Ram- 
 bouillet, Mademoiselle de Brienne, Mademoiselle de 
 Montmorency-Boutteville, Mademoiselle Du Yigean ? 
 They had the most dissimilar fortunes, as we shall 
 rapidly indicate. 
 
 Marie-Antoinette de Lomelie, daughter of the 
 Count de Brienne, one of the ministers of Queen 
 Anne, married, in 1642, the Marquis de Gamache, 
 who became lieutenant-general. Her portraits, traced 
 by herself, may be seen among the Portraits of 
 Mademoiselle, with those of her father and mother. 
 She made no noise ; all ]jer life passed on quietly 
 and piously. She died at the age of eighty years, in 
 1704. She kept up continually, with Madame de 
 Longueville, the most friendly intercourse. She was 
 
lllH FKIEND3 OF M LLK DE BOURBON. 211 
 
 the least brilliant of the five friends, but she was the 
 most fortunate. 
 
 What became of Mademoiselle de Rambouillet is 
 well known. Spirituelle but ambitious, after having 
 married Montausier, in 1645, she sought, as well as 
 her husband, the favors of the court, and obtained 
 them by paying the ransom. It is sad to begin in 
 youth with harshness to one s lovers, as they said at 
 the hotel de Rambouillet, and to be married only as 
 a sort of favor, like the Armande of the Femmes 
 Savantes, in order to become one of the" most obliging 
 of duennas. At first appointed a maid of honor of 
 Queen Marie-Therese, she had, in 1664, the courage 
 to take the place of the virtuous Duchess de Na- 
 vailles, who would not countenance the love of the 
 young king, Louis XIV., and Mademoiselle de La 
 Valliere. Hence the well-founded accusations enter 
 tained by the benevolent Madame de Motteville her 
 self, and which, at a later period, were confirmed by 
 her weakness, when the king abandoned Made 
 moiselle de La Valliere for Madame de Montespan. 1 
 
 1 Mc moires, vol. vi., p. 105. " This lady did not hate the court. 
 She desired general approbation, and especially the approbation of 
 those who had credit, for naturally she had a greediness for all that 
 is called favor." Ibid,, p. 167. " According to what I have said of 
 Madame de Montausier, it is easy to judge that she must have been 
 agreeable to the king, not only because she had fine qualities, but 
 because the merit which she possessed was entirely conformed to the 
 fashion of the world. One day that the queen-mother had unwil- 
 
212 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was in the midst of all these rumors that her hus 
 band was named Governor of the Dauphin. Mon- 
 tausier was certainly a man of merit, and, like his 
 
 lingly received Mademoiselle de La Valliere, Madame do Montausier 
 applauded this condescension, which had given Queen Maria-Theresa 
 so much pain." Ibid. "I cannot help, in this place, mentioning a 
 circumstance which may show how much the hearts and minds of 
 people of court are ordinarily spoiled. At the moment when the 
 queen had commanded me to go and speak to the queen her mother, 
 I met Madame de Montausier, who was rejoicing over the very mat 
 ter that had thrown the queen into despair. She said to me with an 
 exclamation of joy : Ah ! Madame, the queen- mother has done an ad 
 mirable act in wishing to see La Valliere. See the tact of a very shrewd 
 woman and of a good politician. But, added this lady, she is so feeble 
 that we cannot hope that she will sustain this act as she should. I 
 was truly astonished to see the operations of different sentiments in 
 different persons, and, unwilling to reply, I quitted her. . . . The Duke 
 de Montausier, who had the reputation of a man of honor, caused in 
 me, about the same time, a similar pain, for, in speaking of the ill-feel 
 ing which the queen-mother entertained towards the Countess de 
 Brancas, he said to me these words : Ah ! truly the queen is very 
 pleasant to be offended, because Madame de Brancas is so complai 
 sant towards the king as to keep company with Mademoiselle de La 
 Valliere. If she were cunning and wise, she would be very glad that 
 the king was in love with Mademoiselle de Brancas, for, being the 
 daughter of the first officer in her service (the Count de Brancas was 
 chevalier d honneur of the queen-mother), he, his wife and his daugh 
 ter, would be of great advantage to her with the king." When the 
 amours of the king with Madairie de Montespan commenced, Madame 
 de Montausier was not more severe, Memoires de Mademoiselle, vol. v., 
 p. 254 : " Madame de Montespan took up her quarters in the room be 
 longing to Madame de Montausier, near that of the king ; and it was 
 observed that a sentinel, who had been placed in the passage com 
 municating with the lodging of the king and that of Madame de Mon 
 tespan, had been removed. ... I am told, said the queen, that it is 
 Madame do Montausier who conducts this intrigue, that she deceives 
 me, that the king visits Madame de Montespan in her room. Ma 
 dame de Montausier said to the queen : Since your Majesty would be 
 made to believe that I give mistresses to the king, what injury may 
 
THE FRIENDS OF M LLE DE BOURBON. 213 
 
 wife, he had great qualities, which he spoiled by 
 great defects. He made a great show of virtue, un 
 der which was hidden much that was pitiful. He 
 was very free in censuring every one, and suffered 
 no one to fail in rendering him his due. He was 
 abrupt, headstrong, of an insupportable haughtiness 
 and pride. 1 Charged provisionally and by com 
 mission with the government of Normandy, at the 
 death of M. de Longueville, in 1663, he assumed the 
 dignity of a prince of the blood, and exacted all the 
 honor that was rendered to M. de Longueville him- 
 
 any one expect to escape? The queen replied to her in equivocal 
 terms : I know more than you think ; I am not the dupe of any one." 
 Appearances were all against Madame de Montausier. Also, at a later 
 period, Montespan, who was evil-minded enough to misinterpret the 
 honor done by the king to his wife, made for Madame Montausier a 
 most disagreeable scene. Madame de Montausier complained to the 
 king, who sent for Montespan, for the purpose of putting him in 
 prison. See Mademoiselle, vol. vi., 82 : " This affair made a great noise 
 in the world, because it was an extraordinary outrage upon a woman 
 who had thus far sustained an excellent reputation. M. de Montau- 
 sier was at Kambouillet ; he did not know of the affair ; they even 
 said that it was concealed from him ; others imagined that he knew it, 
 but that it was for his advantage to seem ignorant. A little while 
 after he was made tutor of the Dauphin, etc." 
 
 1 If it is true, as several contemporaries assure us, and among others, 
 Segrais, that Montausier had served as a model for the Misanthrope^ 
 it was because Moliere, who did not search things closely, has taken 
 a difficult virtue for reality. But Moliere told his secret to no one, 
 and probably there is no secret here except that of genius. The Mis 
 anthrope is not the copy of any original. Many originals have been 
 before the great observer, and furnished him with a thousand particu 
 lar traits ; but the entire and complete character of the Misanthrope is 
 his own creation. 
 
214 < HAl TKIt IT. 
 
 self. Hard towards his inferiors, difficult with his 
 equals, he knew perfectly how to manage his credit 
 and push his fortune. Born a Protestant, he became 
 converted for the sake of his wife, as well as for 
 political purposes. 1 Madame de Montausier was 
 more amiable, but quite as careful of her own inter 
 ests. She was of that same school of which Madame 
 de Maintenon was the consummate mistress, that 
 school which seeks the appearance of good rather 
 than good itself, which accommodates itself to mean 
 ness, skilfully concealed, and bestows all its care, all 
 its study upon not compromising itself; whilst proud 
 and truly honest souls, whom passion misleads, take 
 no pains to hide their faults, being careless of reputa 
 tion when virtue is lost. Madame de Montausier 
 was especially occupied with herself. She had the 
 confidence of the king. She became a duchess. 
 Her career was brilliant, but was she happy ? She 
 became embroiled and reconciled more than once 
 with Madame de Longueville. She died in 1671, 
 after her mother, the noble marchioness, who died in 
 1665, and, like her, she was buried in that convent 
 of the Carmelites of the Rue Saint-Jacques, which 
 
 1 Tallemant, vol. ii., p. 243 : " Our marquis, seeing that his religion 
 was an obstacle to his designs, changed it. He said that salvation 
 could be obtained in either ; but in the change he seems to have con 
 sulted his interest." 
 
THE FKIENDS OF M LLE DE BOURBON. 215 
 
 most of the friends of Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 seem to have made a place of rendezvous during 
 life and after death. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Montmorency-Boutteville, Isa- 
 belle Angelique, 1 possessed at an early age a beauty 
 which she preserved to the end. Her younger sister, 
 Marie Louise, yielded to her, says Lenet, 2 not as to the 
 more beautiful, but as to the elder. She married the 
 Marquis de Valency, and disappeared ten years be 
 fore her sister, in 1684. Isabelle de Montmorency 
 had much mind, and to the brilliancy of her charms 
 united at first great coquetry, and afterwards the 
 most shameful artifices. The first pages of her life 
 are a romance the last, a vulgar story. Protected, 
 as well as her sister and brother, by Madame the 
 Princess, and placed almost upon an equality with 
 
 1 Every one called her Elizabeth, and she is thus named in the most 
 authentic printed documents ; but in all our manuscripts she nevei 
 signs herself Elizabeth, but almost always Isabelle. See several of 
 her autograph letters among the papers of Lenet in the National Li 
 brary. A manuscript piece, the judicial evidence given by Madame 
 de Chatillon before an ecclesiastical commission delegated by the Pope, 
 in the matter of the canonization of the Mother Madeleine de Saint- 
 Joseph, can leave no doubt; Madame de Chatillon deposes thus: 
 " My name is Isabelle Angelique de Montmorency ; I am a native of 
 the city of Paris ; I am thirty-two years of age, daughter of Henry 
 Francois de Montmorency, Count de Boutteville and other places, and 
 of Isabelle Angelique de Vienne, his lawful wife ; I am widow of 
 Gaspard de Coligny, Duke de Chatillon . . ." and she signs : " Moy, 
 Isabelle Augelique de Montmorency." 
 
 2 Lenet, ed. Mich., p. 437. 
 
216 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon and the Duke d Enghien, 
 she made, or seemed to make, some impression upon 
 the latter; but she inflamed especially the handsome 
 and the brave Dandelot. Madame de Boutteville re 
 fused to give him her daughter, because he was a 
 Protestant and simply a younger brother, his elder 
 brother, Coligny, being heir to the fortune and title of 
 the Chatillons. But, after the death of Coligny, Dan 
 delot who took his name, feeling himself upheld by the 
 Duke d Enghien and by his sister, carried off Made 
 moiselle de Boutteville, with her own consent of course, 
 and after that it became necessary to marry the two 
 fugitives. 1 Yoiture wrote some very lively verses upon 
 this elopement, 2 and Sarrazin made a ballad upon the 
 method of conducting such matters. 3 It would be 
 supposed that a marriage so passionately desired on 
 both sides would result in continued happiness to both 
 parties. It was not, however, so. Coligny having 
 become Duke de Chatillon, thought much more of 
 war than of his wife : he covered himself with glory 
 at Lens; but, as we have said, he perished in a 
 miserable combat at Charentoii in 1649. It must be 
 confessed that he was the first to do wrong, and in 
 
 1 See long details on this subject in Madame de Motteville, vol. Is* 
 p. 292, etc. 
 
 8 (Euvres de Voiture, vol. ii., p. 174, Epistle to M. de Coligny, 
 3 (Euvres de Sarrazin, in-4 ; Poesies, p. 74. 
 
THR PKIKNDS OF M LLE DE BOURBON. 217 
 
 lying he asked pardon of her whose pride he had 
 especially wounded. 1 The young and beautiful widow 
 soon found consolation; she got possession of the 
 heart of Conde, which had been for some time unoc 
 cupied, and exerted herself to keep it without bestow 
 ing her own, or even giving it to another, skilful in 
 the art of promoting her interests and her pleasures. 
 The memoirs of the times, and particularly those of 
 La Rochefoucauld, describe her as managing at once 
 the imperious Conde, from whom she drew great ad 
 vantages, and the suspicious Nemours, whom she pre 
 ferred, striving to conciliate them, and to win them 
 both to the court with which she had a secret treaty. 
 A little while after she plunges into the most diverse 
 intrigues, connecting herself with the Marshal d Ho- 
 quincourt and with the Abbe Fouquet, retaining over 
 the absent Conde the power of her charms, trying 
 this power upon the young king Louis XI V., marry 
 ing in 1664 the Duke de Meklembourg in the hope 
 of a crown in Germany, and leaving after her the 
 reputation of having been as beautiful and as selfish 
 as the Duchess de Montbazon. The latter doubtless 
 possessed beauty of a superior style, but the other, 
 less imposing, was a thousand times more agree 
 able. They were by turns the two most dangerous 
 
 1 Madame de Motteville, vol. iii., p. 133, etc, 
 
 19 
 
21 S CHAFfER II. 
 
 rivals and mortal enemies of Madame de Longue- 
 ville. 1 
 
 But we now present a very different person, whose 
 destiny, like her character, forms a perfect contrast 
 with that of Madame de Chatillon. ; very beautiful 
 also, but less dazzling and more touching ; a person 
 who had not perhaps the mind and the finesse of the 
 seductive friend of her childhood, but who knew 
 none of her artifices and intrigues ; who glittered a 
 moment only to be quickly extinguished, but who 
 has left a virtuous and sweet memory ; a person supe 
 rior perhaps to Mademoiselle de La Valliere herself, 
 for she also loved and was able to resist her heart, 
 and, without falling, deceived in her affections, she 
 determined to finish her life like the sister Louise de la 
 Misericorde. Let us not pity her too much : she 
 tasted in this world an inexpressible happiness ; she 
 felt beating for her the heart of a hero, that of the 
 conqueror of Kocroy and of Fribourg, of the ardent 
 and impetuous Duke d Enghien, who could not quit 
 her without shedding tears and without fainting. 
 Sensible to a passion so true, and which promised to 
 be so durable, but disarmed in some measure by the 
 charm of a modest and sincere virtue, she made Conde 
 know, at least once in his life, what was true love. 
 
 1 See on Madame de Montbazon, the chapter which follows, and, on 
 Madame de Chatillon, the INTBOPUOTION. 
 
M LLE DU viGEAN AND CONDE. 219 
 
 After that he knew nothing but the transient intoxi 
 cation of the senses, especially the passion of war, for 
 which he was bom his true passion indeed, his 
 mistress, his part, his country, his king, the true 
 object of all his life, and by turns his shame atid his 
 glory. 
 
 This charming creature, who for several years was 
 the idol of Conde, was the young Mademoiselle Du 
 Yigean. Her destiny was so touching, and it was so 
 intimately connected with that of Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon and of Madame de Longueville, that we 
 shall be pardoned for dwelling a few moments 
 upon it. 
 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean was the youngest daugh 
 ter of Francois Poussart de Fors, at first Baron, then 
 Marquis Du Yigean, a man of little importance, 1 and 
 of Anne de Neubourg, who was a very great charac 
 ter under Louis XIII., thanks to the friendship of the 
 Duchess d Aiguillon, niece of Richelieu. Admitted 
 into the first society, the letters and poesy of Yoiture 
 show that Madame Du Yigean held well her place. 2 
 
 1 We are not very well acquainted with the origin and history of the 
 Du Vigeans. We find a Protestant Vigean in the States-General in 
 1615, where he performed an active part. Journal Tiistorique et anecdotes 
 de la. cour et de Paris, among the manuscript papers of Conrart ; in-4, 
 vol. xi., p. 238. 
 
 51 Letter of Voiture to Madame Du Vigean, in sending him an elegy 
 which he had made and which she had asked, vol. i., p. 27. It is also 
 Madame Du Vigean whom he designates by the name of the Belle 
 
220 CHAPTER II. 
 
 This success, and the connection which was the occa 
 sion of it, could not fail to make her the subject of 
 envy, and various rumors were spread concerning her 
 and Madame d Aiguillon, equally injurious to both, 
 and o which we find no feeble echo in the scandalous 
 chronicle of Tallemant and in the songs of the times. 1 
 She possessed at La Barre, near Paris, above Saint- 
 Denis and d Enghien, and quite near to Montmorency, 
 a charming residence which Yoiture has described, 
 and where she received magnificently the best and 
 choicest society, even to Madame the Princess and 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon. 2 
 
 Madame Du Vigean had two sons and two daugh 
 ters. The eldest of the sons, the Marquis de Fors, was 
 an officer of the greatest promise, who was killed at 
 the age of twenty years at the siege of Arras, where the 
 Duke d Enghien served as a volunteer. He had been 
 made a prisoner twice, but he perished finally, after 
 prodigies of valor. He was wept by the Duke d En- 
 ! ghien and by all his comrades. Magnificent funeral 
 ceremonies were performed over him, and Desmarets, 
 one of the poets of Richelieu, consecrated to him a 
 
 Baronne, in two couplets, at pasre 120 and- 127 of vol. ii. It seems that 
 the Du Vigreans resided at first in the quarter Saint-Germain, as well as 
 Madame d Aiguillon, and that she afterwards resided in the Rue Saint- 
 Thomas-du-Louvre. . 
 
 1 Tallemant, vol. ii., p. 32, and Library of the Arsenal, Collection of 
 Historical Songs, vol. i., p. 149. 
 
 9 (Euvres, vol. i., pp. 20-25 ; letter tenth to the Cardinal de La Valette. 
 
 16* 
 
M LLE DU VIGEAN AND CONDE. 221 
 
 long elegy. 1 His young brother, who also served, fin 
 ished his career still more sadly : he was assassinated 
 under circumstances which could never be discovered. 
 As to the two sisters, their eulogy is found in all 
 the gallant poems of this epoch. They are praised 
 equally with Mademoiselle de Boutteville and Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon, in a piece in the manuscript 
 collection of Maurepas, 2 and Yoiture places them in 
 a review of the beauties of the court of Chantilly, ad 
 dressed to Madame the Princess. 3 He is pleased to 
 celebrate the mother and the two daughters, and par 
 ticularly the young Du Vigean : 
 
 Baroness so sweet, so fair too, 
 The mother, or the sister, are you * 
 
 Of these two gentle belles whom all 
 Your daughters call ? 
 
 Upon her face, (De Fors, Du Vigean s eldest sister) 
 
 beneath her feet, 
 
 Spring flowers beautiful and sweet, 
 Which elsewhere no one sees, etc. 
 
 A rising sun this Vigean (the younger) glows, 
 A bud just ready to unclose, etc. 
 
 Of love though ignorant indeed, 
 Yet in her eyes one may love read, 
 And everywhere she sets it free 
 Unconsciously. 4 
 
 Desraarets, CEuvres poctique, in-4, 1641, pp. 18-21. 
 Vol. ii., fol. 301. "Vol. i., p. 181. * Ibid., p. 136. 
 
 19* 
 
222 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Here again are a few words of Yoiture, hitherto 
 unintelligible, and which now have a certain appli 
 cation : 
 
 Our Aurora, de La Barre, 
 Is now a glowing sun. 
 
 These matchless charms, in truth, 
 Eevive my long lost youth. 
 
 Evidently the poet speaks of Mademoiselle Du Yi- 
 gean the younger, who, after having been a rising 
 Bun, an aurora, became, in a few years, a sun in full 
 splendor. She was called the Aurora of La Barre, 
 from the name of the house of which she was the 
 most amiable ornament. 
 
 In writing all these verses in honor of Mesdemoi- 
 selles Du Yigean, Yoiture had doubtless under his 
 eyes the devices which had been made for them and 
 for their mother, and which are preserved in the 
 papers of Conrart i 1 " For Madame Du Yigean, who 
 
 1 Library of the Arsenal, manuscripts of Conrart, in-4, vol. xi., p. 
 855. Devices were then in fashion; at a later period Mademoiselle 
 placed portraits in them, and Madame Sable maxims and thoughts. 
 These devices had nothing official in them, and in that they resem 
 bled what are now called fancy seals, which must not be confounded 
 with family arms. Individuals made devices for themselves and others ; 
 they had them printed, and they are regarded as true works of art. 
 There is in the Arsenal, Belles-lettres Francises, No. 348, a collection, 
 in-folio, upon vellum, of great beauty. It had been made for the 
 Duchess de La Tremouille, whose portrait is found among those of 
 Mademoiselle. Each device occupies an entire leaf. We find here 
 those of Anne of Austria, of Madame the Princess, of Mademoiselle de 
 
M LLK DU VIGEAN.AND COND^. 
 
 had lost her eldest son, an orange-tree, having at its 
 foot its topmost branch cut off, covered with flowers 
 and fruit : Quis dolor" " For Mademoiselle de Fors, 
 her eldest daughter, a rose among several flowers : 
 Dat decor imperium" " For Mademoiselle Du Yi- 
 gean, her second daughter, a lighted taper, sur 
 rounded with moths : Oblecto sed uro" Let us add 
 these two devices, which describe so well the char 
 acter, and already the reputation of those who were 
 the subject of them : " For Mademoiselle de Bam- 
 bouillet, a crown with this inscription : Me quieren 
 todos." " For Mademoiselle de Bourbon, an ermine : 
 Intus candidior" 
 
 In 1635, at the great ball given at the Louvre by 
 Louis XIII., to which Mademoiselle de Bourbon con 
 sented to go with so much difficulty, and which 
 proved the ruin of her religious ardor, among the 
 ladies who danced with her, Andre d Ormesson 1 
 mentions Mesdemoiselles Du Yigean. The eldest, 
 Anne Fors Du Yigean, was pretty, sweet, insinuat 
 ing, 2 and, says Madame de Motteville, ambitious and 
 
 Montpensier, and of many other illustrious females of the seventeenth 
 century. We limit ourselves to giving the device of Madame de 
 Longueville. It is very different from that of Mademoiselle de Bour 
 bon. It is a bunch of lilies upon a nest of serpents, with these words : 
 Meo moriuntur odore. 
 
 1 Fol., 832, verso. 
 
 3 Memoires, vol. iii., p. 393. See also vol. iv., p. 89. 
 
224 CHAPTER II. 
 
 prone to flattery. She was married to M. de Pons, 
 who had not much property, but who pretended to 
 be connected with the illustrious house d Albredt. 
 Becoming a widow in 1648, and the confidant of t}ie 
 Duchess d Aiguillon, intimate friend of her mother, 
 she succeeded in obtaining the love of the nephew, 
 the young Duke de Richelieu, and in marrying him, 
 notwithstanding the duchess and notwithstanding 
 the queen, thanks to the protection of Conde and of 
 Madame de Longueville. For this fortunate protec 
 tion she was indebted to the remembrances of child 
 hood, especially to the tender and profound sentiment 
 which Conde and his sister had early felt and 
 ever preserved for her younger sister, the young, 
 beautiful, virtuous, and unfortunate Mademoiselle 
 Du Vigean. 
 
 Contemporaneous memoirs give neither the par 
 ticular name, nor the precise date of the birth of this 
 amiable person. But, thanks to the unpublished doc 
 uments which have been placed in our hands, we 
 know that the young Du Yigean was born in 1622, 
 and that she was called Martha, 1 a modest name, 
 and answering well to her character and destiny. 
 She was then almost of the same age as Mademoiselle 
 
 1 Deposition in the affair of the beatification of the Mother Madeleine 
 de Saint- Joseph : "I, Sister Marthe Poussar du Vigean, called de 
 Je"sus, aged 28 years. . . November 17, 1650." 
 
M.: DU VIGEAN AND CONDE. 225 
 
 de Bourbon. She had been brought up with her, 
 and, when they appeared together, it was almost with 
 the same eclat. It is impossible to find any portrait 
 or engraving of her which can be relied upon. Her 
 charms were- greatly heightened by a modesty full of 
 grace, and the verses which we have quoted from 
 Yoiture, show her still young, in the innocence of a 
 beauty of which she was ignorant, and which excited 
 passions which she herself did not share,. 
 
 Let us say, in the first place, in order to justify 
 Conde and her who received his first homage, that 
 the inclination of the Duke d Enghien for the young 
 Du Yigean, preceded his marriage with Mademoiselle 
 de Breze, niece of the cardinal, and continued till the 
 year 1640, when the young duke was leading, at 
 Paris, at the hotel de Conde, at Chantilly, and else 
 where, the innocent life which we have described, 
 surrounded by his comrades in arms, and among the 
 charming and dangerous companions of Mademoiselle 
 de Bourbon. It was then that he met Madame Du 
 Yigean and her two daughters, and that he began, 
 says Lenet, " to feel for Mademoiselle Du Yigean an 
 esteem and a friendship which became, by degrees, 
 a strong and tender love." 1 
 
 Indeed, the Duke d Enghien might have imagined 
 
 1 Memoiref de Lenet, edit. Michaud, p. 550. 
 
 10* 
 
226 CHAPTER II. 
 
 that it would not be impossible for him to obtain from 
 his father and from the king, that is, from the Cardi 
 nal de Richelieu, their consent to a marriage, dispro 
 portionate, without doubt, but in no wise degrading 
 to him. Mademoiselle Du Yigean was very rich, and 
 her family was in great credit ; Richelieu favored 
 her ; and it would not have been displeasing to him 
 to see a prince of the blood descending somewhat 
 from his own, rank. The marriage which was im 
 posed upon Conde some time after, was not much 
 above what this might have been. A little delusion 
 was permitted to the age and impetuosity of the 
 young duke, and, once the affections engaged, they 
 yielded only to time and necessity. 
 
 With such a sentiment in the heart, one can im 
 agine how much the Duke d Enghien must have suf 
 fered from the marriage to which he was condemned 
 in 1641. It is to his chagrin upon this occasion, that 
 the sickness with which he was then attacked is 
 attributed. Although his young wife, Claire-Cle- 
 mence Maille de Breze, was very agreeable, he did 
 not live with her, and formed, from the moment of 
 his marriage, the design of repudiating her as soon 
 as he could. He protested against the violence which 
 had been done to him. He made this protestation 
 in the shape of a national deed, clothed with all legal 
 forms, and signed by himself, by the president of 
 
 
U VIGEAN AND CONDE. 227 
 
 Vernon, superintendent of his house, and by Perrault, 
 at that time his secretary. 1 
 
 We have related how, notwithstanding his disor 
 der, as soon as he learned that the campaign was 
 about to open, nothing could retain him, neither the 
 prayers of his family, nor the tears of his mistress ; 
 he set out hardly convalescent, and returned covered 
 with glory. On his return, he " continued to give to 
 Mademoiselle Du Vigean all the marks of a tender 
 and respectful passion." 2 
 
 In 1642, being at the waters of Bourbon with the 
 Cardinal de Eichelieu, the Duke d Enghien, at a 
 most critical period, seized a pretext for going to 
 Paris, " where the passion which he felt for Made 
 moiselle Du Yigean called him." 3 
 
 It was especially after the death of the cardinal, 
 in the years 1643 and 1644, that the amours of Conde 
 were chiefly observable. Gallantry being then fash 
 ionable, these amours were neither a mystery nor a 
 scandal. The National Library possesses more than 
 one manuscript history of the regency of Anne of 
 Austria, the author of which declares that he was the 
 witness of every thing that he relates, and, in a letter 
 addressed to the Prince de Conde, dedicates these 
 memoirs to him. 4 The tenderness of the two young 
 
 1 Lenet, edit. Michaud, p. 550. 3 Lenet, ibid. * Ibid. 
 
 4 Supplement Franyiis, No. 925. The author seems to be called Mau- 
 
228 CHAPTER II. 
 
 people is here several times alluded to. After the 
 campaign of Flanders, in which the Duke d Orieans 
 had taken Gravelines, and in which Conde had taken 
 Fribourg, " these illustrious conquerors," says our 
 manuscript, " having carried their laurels to the feet 
 of the regent, who was then at Fontainebleau, retired, 
 the first to Paris, and the other to Chantilly. If the 
 court of Fontainebleau surpassed that of Chantilly in 
 number, the latter did not yield to it in gallantry and 
 in pleasures. The Princess de Conde, the Duchesses 
 d Anguyen and de Longueville, were there, accom 
 panied by a dozen of the most agreeable persons of 
 quality in France. In addition to the beauty of the 
 place, games and promenades, music and the chase, 
 and every thing generally that can make a place 
 agreeable, were to be found here. The young Du 
 Yigean was there, for whom the Duke d Anguyen 
 had then much esteem and friendship. She, on her 
 side, responded to it, and every one favored them." 
 
 It is necessary to look into the memoirs of the 
 times for the details of this curious episode of the 
 youth of Conde, the vicissitudes of this connection, 
 as tender as it was pure, the hopes, the fears, the 
 
 passant. "It is the custom," says he, in commencing, "of all those 
 who write history, to wish to appear faithful, disinterested, and exempt 
 from all passion. For my part, I do not pretend to persuade any ono 
 of my sincerity, but I dare to declare that I have seen most of the things 
 which I undertake to write about." 
 
DIJ VIGEAN AND CONDE. 229 
 
 
 
 jealousies, all the troubles which accompany love. 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean had besought 1 Conde to 
 conceal his sentiments in public ; she had engaged 
 him, in joke, perhaps, to make believe that he loved 
 Mademoiselle de Boutteville ; but the latter was so 
 beautiful, and the game was so dangerous, that Made 
 moiselle Du Yigean hastened to countermand her 
 order, and to forbid the duke to see Mademoiselle 
 de Boutteville and to speak to her. Conde again 
 obeyed her ; he discontinued all intercourse with his 
 cousin, and yielded his place to Dandelot, whose 
 projects he was the more eager to favor, as he felt 
 some anxiety in regard to his own ; for Mademoiselle 
 Du Yigean had warned him that her father was 
 thinking of marrying her to this same Dandelot, and 
 that he had offered the Marshal de Chatillon a very 
 
 1 Memoires de Madame de Motteville, vol. i., p. 295 : " The Duke 
 d Enghien had so strong a passion for Mademoiselle Du Vigean, that I 
 have heard Madame Du Vigean, her mother, say that he had often 
 wished to break his marriage, having been forced to espouse the 
 Duchess d Enghien, in order that he might marry her daughter, and 
 that he had even labored to this end. I have heard Madame de Mon- 
 tausier, who knew these intrigues, say that this prince had pretended 
 to love Mademoiselle de Boutteville, by the express order of Made 
 moiselle Du Vigean, in order to conceal in public the friendship which 
 he had for her, but that the beauty of Mademoiselle de Boutteville hav 
 ing frightened Mademoiselle Du Vigean, she had forbidden htm, a little 
 after, to see her and to speak to her, and that he had obeyed her so 
 promptly, that all at once he ceased all intercourse with her, and that, 
 to show that he had no affection for her, he caused her to marry Dan 
 delot." 
 
 20 
 
230 CHAPTER II. 
 
 considerable dower to have his son as a son-in-law. 1 
 " This news," says Madame de Motteville, " gave the 
 prince the utmost alarm : he often faced the enemies 
 of the State, but his heart was not so valiant against 
 love as against them." 2 He took fright therefore, 
 and, to parry the blow, he entered so earnestly into 
 the cause of Dandelot, that he counselled him to 
 elope with Mademoiselle de Boutteville. 
 
 In the mean time he continued all his efforts to 
 break his own marriage ; he labored for it with ardor 
 and perseverance. The Duchess d Enghien falling 
 sick, he anticipated the accomplishment of his 
 wishes; but she recovered; it was therefore neces 
 sary to obtain a judicial dissolution of his marriage. 
 The thing was almost impossible, for the Duchess 
 d Enghien was then, at least, perfectly irreproacha 
 ble, and moreover he had by her a son. Such, how 
 ever, was the passion of Conde, that he addressed 
 himself to Cardinal Mazarin, 3 who, not being very 
 scrupulous, would have permitted the rupture, if he 
 had not feared that Conde, once at liberty, might 
 aspire to Mademoiselle, and become much too pow 
 erful. 
 
 Thus we are enabled to judge of the depth of 
 
 Memoires de Madame de Motteville, p. 294. 3 Ibid. 
 
 Memoir es de Mademoiselle, vol. 1st, p. 84. 
 
 
M LLE DU VIGEAN AND CONDE. 231 
 
 Conde s feelings. These feelings were inspired not 
 only by the beauty of Mademoiselle Du Yigean, but 
 by her candor and her modesty, by that tenderness at 
 once devoted and virtuous, which led her far enough 
 to be compromised somewhat in the eyes of the world, 
 while it suffered her to do nothing which might mar 
 in the mind of Conde the ideal of angelic purity 
 which she represented to him. Hence that passion 
 mingled with respect and ardor which he burned to 
 satisfy in despite of all obstacles, and which was never 
 gratified. Madame de Motteville, who was informed 
 of the least details of this amorous intrigue by Ma 
 dame de Montausier, its witness and almost confidant, 
 says expressly, as " a thing to be believed by every 
 one,* 1 that Mademoiselle Du Yigean " is the only one 
 whom Conde truly loved." * Mademoiselle, who from 
 different motives did not love those whom Conde 
 loved, and who was very severe upon Madame de 
 Chatillon, expresses herself thus in regard to the loves 
 of Conde and of Mademoiselle Du Yigean : " She was 
 very beautiful ; this illustrious lover was also deeply 
 moved. When he set out for the army, the desire of 
 glory did not prevent him from feeling the grief of 
 separation, and he could not bid adieu without shed 
 ding tears ; and when he departed on his last journey 
 
 1 Memoires, vol. i., p. 802. 
 
232 CHAPTER II. 
 
 to Germany (where he achieved the victory of Nort- 
 lingen), he fainted when he left her." 
 
 Such a passion was too violent to continue for a 
 great length of time ; it was prolonged even beyond 
 ordinary bounds. Mademoiselle Du Yigean would 
 consent to be the wife alone of Conde, and the mar 
 riage of the latter could not be broken : things ad 
 vanced on neither side, and every one grew weary. 
 
 It may be imagined that the interest which Conde 
 manifested for Mademoiselle Du Yigean intimidated 
 those who would have aspired to her hand. Two 
 marriages were proposed to her. Among her ad 
 mirers was the Marquis d Huxelles, who afterwards 
 married Marie de Bailleul, daughter of the Superin 
 tendent of Finances. D Huxelles was a very dis 
 tinguished military man} w T ho expected to become 
 Marshal of France, and whose services and prema 
 ture death in consequence of his wounds, 1 enabled his 
 son to obtain that honor. He thought very seriously 
 of marrying Mademoiselle Du Yigean. 2 He hesitated 
 on account of the reports which did not fail to find 
 circulation. " Although," says Lenet, from whom we 
 obtain these facts, " I know with all the certainty that 
 
 1 The Marquis d Huxelles died in 1658, of his wounds, and of his 
 chagrin on account of not receiving the appointment of Marshal. 
 The office was conferred upon his son in 1703. Mademoiselle d Huxelles 
 was amiable and sprightly. She died at an advanced age in 1712. 
 
 a Memoir es de Lenet, part i., p. 207. 
 
U VIGEAN AND COND&. 233 
 
 one can have in regard to matters of this kind, that 
 love was never more passionate than that on the part 
 of the prince, nor listened to with more discretion 
 and modesty, than was exhibited on the part of Made 
 moiselle Du Vigean." And in this Madame de 
 Motteville and Mademoiselle agree perfectly with 
 Lenet. 
 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean had been also sought by : 
 another amiable and brave gentleman, the Marquis 
 Jacques Stuart de Saint-Megrin, brother of the beau 
 tiful Saint-Megrin of whom the Duke d Orleans was 
 so fond. Saint-Megrin continued for a long time his 
 affection for Mademoiselle Du Yigean; 1 but he dared 
 not come in competition with Conde. At a later pe 
 riod he learned with extreme joy that his suit might 
 be heard ; and he addressed himself at once to the 
 parents of Mademoiselle Du Yigean. The marriage 
 did not take place : a passion such as that which we 
 have just described was destined to have a very differ 
 ent denouement. 
 
 It is known that after the German campaign of 
 1645, and the disputed victory of Nortlingen, Conde 
 was seized with a violent sickness. It was then that, 
 despairing of a dissolution of his marriage, and of 
 conquering the virtuous scruples of Mademoiselle Du 
 
 1 Memoires de Mademoiselle, vol. i., p. 84. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Yigean, he resolved to turn his thoughts in another 
 direction. Mademoiselle Du Yigean did not com- 
 . plain ; she closed her ears to all propositions, resisted 
 the counsels and even the orders of her family, and 
 in the full splendor of her beauty and her youth she 
 cast herself among the Carmelites of the Rue Saints 
 Jacques. 1 Conde did not attempt to see her again, 
 Jbut he always preserved for her, says Lenet, a re 
 membrance full of respect. 2 The love of Conde was 
 not, then, a transient caprice. It began before his 
 marriage ; it continued four long years ; it remained 
 ardent and pure in the midst of camps, and was ex 
 tinguished only in the despair of bringing it to a 
 
 1 As every thing then was the subject of songs, the two following 
 couplets, which we find among the Chansons Notces of the Arsenal, were 
 written upon this occasion: 
 
 SUB L AiR : Laire Ian lire. 
 Lorsque Vigean quitta la cour, 
 Les Jcux, les Graces, les Amours 
 Entrerent dans le Monastere. 
 
 Laire la laire Ian lere, 
 
 Laire la laire Ian la. 
 
 Les Jeux pleurcrent ce jour-la; 
 Ce jour la Boautd se voila, 
 Et fit vceu d etre solitaire. 
 Laire la laire, etc. 
 
 a Ibid. The remembrance which Conde preserved for Mademoiselle 
 Du Vigean was such, that Mademoiselle asserts, vol. i., p. 88, that if 
 Conde favored Chabot in his designs upon Mademoiselle do Rohan, it 
 was because Chabot had been his confidant with Mademoiselle Du 
 Vigean. " So," says she, " after having been served during one of the 
 most important periods of his life, it is not wonderful that he took care 
 to promote the marriage so desired by Chabot." 
 
U VIGEAN AND CONDE. 235 
 
 happy conclusion, and after a long and critical dis 
 order, from which the hero of Nortlingen arose ever 
 to renounce love for glory and ambition. 
 
 Tt would be gratifying to follow Mademoiselle Du 
 Vigean to the convent of the Carmelites, to know at 
 what time precisely she entered it, what occupied her 
 there, and when she died. These are points upon 
 which no contemporaries enlighten us, and all that 
 we are now able to assert with certainty is, that 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigeaii made a profession in 1649. 
 Thus, she must have joined the Carmelites in 1647, 
 since the vows can be taken only after a service of 
 one or two years as a candidate and a novice. She 
 took the name of sister Marthe de Jesus; 1 she died 
 in 1665 ; she was never prioress ; she was sub-prior 
 ess in 1659, and ceased to be so in 1662. According 
 to custom, she must have held this situation six 
 years, and consequently her term of service was 
 between the years 1656 and 1662; whence it fol 
 lows that all the letters of Madame de Longueville, 
 addressed to sister Marthe and to the Mother Sub- 
 prioress, between 1656 and 1662, are to the same 
 nun, and that this nun was Mademoiselle Du Vigean, 
 which accounts for the particularly affectionate tone 
 
 1 It was customary to take in religion one s baptismal name, as Louise 
 de La Valliere was called Louise de La Misericorde, and Anne Marie 
 d Epernon, Anne Marie de Jesus, etc. 
 
236 CHAPTER II. 
 
 of these letters. In fact, we have found in the 
 National Library, in the collection of Doctor Val 
 iant 1 and in those of Gaignieres, 2 two billets from 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean, then sister Marthe, to 
 Madame de Sable, and another to that very Mar 
 chioness d Huxelles whose place she might have 
 occupied. These billets are the only relics which 
 remain to us of this interesting person, who, because 
 she was too pleasing to a prince, was compelled to 
 bury her beauty and her virtue in a cloister. 
 
 Such is often the end of the pleasures of youth, 
 the inclinations of the most generous, the feasts of 
 the heart and of life. Mademoiselle de Bourbon 
 witnessed the birth, growth, and death of the loves 
 of Conde and of Mademoiselle Du Yigean. Yillefore 
 says that she thwarted them, but he produces no 
 proof of this. It is at least very certain that she 
 strove to repair, as much as she could, the injury 
 which her brother had done to her young and charm 
 ing friend. For her sake, she loaded her sister with 
 benefits, and, when the poor forlorn creature sought 
 an asylum among the Carmelites, she maintained 
 with her an affectionate intercourse ; she visited her, 
 wrote to her often, and, even to the end of life, 
 retained for her a place in her heart by the side of 
 Madame de Sable. 
 
 1 Vol. v. a Lettres originales, vol. iv. 
 
MARRIAGE OF M LLK DK BOURBON. 237 
 
 But let us not anticipate the future. We are still 
 amid the illusions of youth, still in the season of 
 pleasures and love. Whilst around her, at the hotel 
 de Eambouillet and at the hotel de Conde, at Chan- 
 tilly, at Kuel, at Liancourt, all was heroism and gal 
 lantry, whilst surrounded by young and brilliant cav 
 aliers, destined to become great captains ; with agree 
 able female friends who drew after them all hearts, 
 what did Mademoiselle de Bourbon do with her own ? 
 Did she bestow it as did Mademoiselle Du Yigean 
 and Mademoiselle de Boutteville ? Among so many 
 adorers who crowded around her, did she distinguish 
 none 2 Tender and somewhat coquettish, with the 
 soul and the eyes of Chimene, what Rodrigue among 
 the heroes of her brother s court found her sensible? 
 At the age of nineteen, she had been promised to the 
 Prince de Joinville, son of Henri de Lorraine, Duke 
 de Guise. A powerful alliance would this have been, 
 which had united the Montmorencys, the Condes, and 
 the Guises ; but the Prince de Joinville died in Italy, 
 where he went to meet his father, in the violent and 
 obstinate persecution which the implacable avenger 
 and indefatigable promoter of royal authority, Cardi 
 nal de Richelieu, did not cease to exercise against the 
 Guises in remembrance of the League. It is said that 
 a marriage was also contemplated between her and 
 d Armand, Marquis de Breze, nephew of Cardinal 
 
238 CHAFFER II. 
 
 Richelieu, brother of her who was forced upon the 
 Duke d Enghien, the intrepid sailor who twice beat 
 the fleets of Spain, and perished at the age of twenty- 
 seven, from a cannon shot, at the siege of Orbitello, 
 in 1646. This marriage would have placed in the 
 hands of the house of Conde, by means of the two 
 heroic brothers-in-law, all the forces of France, both 
 by sea and land; but this marriage was defeated, for 
 reasons in regard to which there are various opinions. 1 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon attracted whilst she 
 discouraged. There was not a gentleman who would 
 not have given his life for her favor ; but no one was 
 rash enough to aspire to her hand. Many then sighed 
 for her, and some even paid her the most marked 
 homage. Mention is made, among others, of the Duke 
 de Beaufort, more brave than witty, loyal and chival 
 rous enough, who, being politely rejected, fell at the 
 feet of Madame de Montbazon, and served her till 
 death. Especial notice is taken of Maurice de 
 Coligny, the son of Marshal de Chatillon. In 1642 
 M. the Prince and Madame the Princess, not finding 
 a single young lord in all the kingdom to whom 
 policy permitted them to give Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon, proposed to her the greatest lord of France, 
 after the princes of the blood, the Duke de Longue- 
 
 Villefore, pp. 87, 38. 
 
MARRIAGE OF M LLE DE BOURBON. 239 
 
 ville. He was the widower of Louise de Bourbon, 
 daughter of the Count de Soissons, by whom he had 
 Marie d Orleans, who was already seventeen or eigh 
 teen years of age : he was forty-seven, and even at 
 this age was said to be still attached to Madame de 
 Montbazon. Mademoiselle de Bourbon resisted, or at 
 least testified at first a great repugnance ; it was, 
 however, necessary to yield ; herein she displayed the 
 resolution which she testified on all great occasions. 
 She married then on the 2d of June, -1642, at the age 
 of twenty-three years, her heart and mind filled with 
 poetry and gallantry, a man much older than herself, 
 and who was not even sufficiently touched with her 
 charms to renounce his old mistress. 
 
 The fetes on the occasion of this marriage were 
 still more brilliant than those which took place at the 
 marriage of the Duke d Enghien. Mademoiselle de 
 Bourbon walked to the altar with a sort of intrepidity, 
 and she seemed almost gay at the hotel de Longue- 
 ville, occupying the spectators so much with her daz 
 zling beauty that they did not remark the violence 
 which she did to her feelings. It is her historian, 
 the Jansenist Yillefore, who has preserved for us this 
 tradition. Scarcely a year had flown by, when, with 
 out even giving her heart, for a long time yet unoccu 
 pied, she was the involuntary cause of a most tragic 
 quarrel, in which Coligny, who had sighed for her, 
 
240 CHAPTER II. 
 
 perished in the flower of youth, and perhaps under 
 her own eyes, by the hand of one of those Guises to 
 whom she had been for a moment destined. Sinister 
 prelude of the storms that awaited her first adven 
 ture, which consecrated her beauty in so sad a man 
 ner, and which, won for her, at the age of twenty- 
 four years, in the world of gallantry, a renown, a 
 popularity even, almost equal to that which victory 
 had achieved for her brother, the Duke d Enghien. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 1642 to 1644. 
 
 Poetry and gallantry-State of affairs in 1643-Battle of Rocroy-Maza- 
 rin and the Important Madame de Montbazon Letter attributed to 
 Madame de Longueville Duel between Coligny and De Guise. An 
 unpublished novel of the seventeenth century. 
 
 WE find Mademoiselle de Bourbon married then 
 on the 2d of June, 1642. " For her it was a cruel 
 destiny ; M. de Longueville was old, she was young 
 and beautiful as an angel." Thus, in relation to this 
 marriage, speaks Mademoiselle, the faithful interpre 
 ter of the opinions of that period. 1 
 
 Henri II., Duke de Longueville, descended from 
 that famous Count de Dunois whose name is con 
 nected with that of Jeanne d Arc, in the great wars 
 of the independence under Charles YH. He was the 
 son of Henri d Orleans, first of the name, sovereign 
 prince of Neuchatel and Yallengin, a warrior worthy 
 of his ancestors, and who gave the League a mortal 
 blow by the victory of Senlis. His mother was 
 Catherine de Gonzague, sister of the Duke de ETe- 
 
 l . Mmurires, edition of Amsterdam, 1785; vol. i., p. 45. 
 
 21 
 
242 CHAPTER III. 
 
 vers, who was father of the two celebrated princesses, 
 Marie, Queen of Poland, and Anne, the Palatine. 
 Born in 1595, Henri II. had first married Louise de 
 Bourbon, daughter of the Count de Soissons, high 
 steward of France, who died in 1637, and by whom 
 he had Marie d Orleans, Mademoiselle de Longue- 
 ville, who, in 1650, played a conspicuous part in the 
 Fronde, and at length married the Duke de Nemours, 
 brother of him who was slain by the Duke de Beau 
 fort. Thus, when the Duke de Longueville took a 
 second wife in 1642, he was forty-seven years of age, 
 and to this wife he brought a daughter-in-law nearly 
 as old, but of a very different character, beautiful, 
 intellectual, but deprived of all sensibility, who soon 
 became the censor of her mother-in-law and her en 
 emy in the family circle, and even with posterity by 
 means of the memoirs which she has left of the 
 Fronde. 
 
 The Duke de Longueville was truly a great lord 
 He was gallant and brave, 1 liberal even to magnifi 
 cence, of a noble and generous character, but feeble ; 
 willing to engage in an enterprise, and ready tc 
 abandon it ; without passion, and without ambition ; 
 and possessing all that was necessary to make him 
 
 1 A fine portrait of M. de Longueville, painted by Champagne, and 
 engraved by Nanteuil, forms the frontispiece of The Pucelle of Chape- 
 lain, in-fol., 1656. 
 
POETEY AND GALLANTRY. 243 
 
 shine in the second rank, but incapable of holding 
 the first. He began by making some opposition to 
 Richelieu, but he yielded soon enough ; afterwards 
 he engaged in the Fronde ; he shared the captivity 
 of his two brothers-in-law, but scarcely did he leave 
 the prison, than he made peace with the court. Na 
 ture had fitted him to follow the path which his 
 fathers had traced for him, and to serve the crown in 
 great military and civil offices, which he would have 
 worthily filled. The misfortune of his life was to be 
 continually engaged, through his own fault and 
 through that of others, in enterprises and adventures 
 for which he was unfitted, and in which his good 
 qualities were less prominent than his defects. 
 
 Let us add that M. de Longueville, whose morals 
 were not the best, had, in early youth, by Jacqueline 
 d llliers, afterwards abbess of Saint- Avit, a natural 
 daughter, Catherine Angelique d Orleans, who was 
 successively a nun in several religious houses, and 
 w T ho died abbess of Maubuisson, in 1664, at the age 
 of forty-seven years. Already in the decline of life, 
 he became smitten with the Duchess de Montbazon, 
 who rejoiced at this useful conquest, and maintained 
 it, as is said, even after the second marriage of M. de 
 Longueville, notwithstanding the displeasure of Ma 
 dame the Princess, and the very bitter reproaches 
 which she cast upon her son-in-law. 
 
244 CHAPTER III. 
 
 It must be confessed that there was little in such a 
 person to captivate the heart and the imagination of 
 a young woman such as we have described Made 
 moiselle de Bourbon. With her instincts of pride 
 and heroism, her refinements of spirit and heart, her 
 principles and habits as a precieuse, she could not 
 admire M. de Longueville, and, formed as she was, 
 admiration was for her the road to love. She was 
 destined, with all her advantages, to be wounded by 
 a rival ; and what made this wound more painful was, 
 that this rival, so little worthy of being compared with 
 her in character, was the greatest beauty of the day, 
 so that the apparent infidelity of M. de Longueville 
 seemed an offensive preference for this rival s charms ; 
 and, as we have said, Mademoiselle de Bourbon was 
 not only tender, she was vain-glorious, and somewhat 
 coquettish. However, as she did not love her hus 
 band, her gentleness, easily sustained by her indif 
 ference, saved her from irritation. She considered 
 herself at liberty to be admired, and she continued 
 to live at the hotel de Longueville, as she had done 
 at the hotel de Conde, with the same court of young 
 and agreeable female friends, of young and brilliant 
 cavaliers. 1 
 
 1 The h6tel of the Dukes de Longueville is not at all the one which, 
 after the death of her husband, Madame de Longueville bought of the 
 Epernons, on the Rue Saint Thomas-du-Louvre, near the h6tel de Ram- 
 
POETRY AND GALLANTRY. 245 
 
 The marriage fetes had hardly ended when Ma 
 dame de Longueville was seized with sickness. The 
 small-pox, then so dreaded, which had driven her 
 away from Chantilly, and against which she had 
 made, at Liancourt, such bad verses, caught her in 
 the autumn of 1642, and placed her charming face 
 in peril. All Rambouillet was moved. The Mar 
 chioness de Sable, too faithful to this fear of con 
 tagion, which was the ridicule of her life, could not 
 
 bouillet, where she resided with her children, and which bore her 
 name from 1664 till the close of the seventeenth century. The dwelling 
 of the Longuevilles was the old hotel d Alen^on. (See SauvaL, vol. i., 
 pp. 65 and 70, especially p. 119.) It was situated on the Eue des Pou- 
 lies, among the rich hotels which line the right side of that street from 
 the Eue Saint Honore to the Seine, and which, witli their dependencies 
 and their gardens, extend to the Louvre. It was almost opposite to the 
 Eue des Fosses-Saint-Germain-l Auxerrois. Upon its right, towards 
 the Seine, was the Petit-Bourbon, which, having served as a residence 
 and a stronghold in Paris to the eldest of the house of Bourbon, became 
 a royal building, a sort of appendage to the Louvre, where the young 
 king, Louis XIV., gave several great balls, and the theatre of which was 
 lent to Moliere, for the performance of his comedies, upon his arrival in 
 Paris. Upon the left, on the same line, after the hotel de Longueville, 
 came the hotels de Villequier and d Aumont ; and a little nearer to the 
 church and house of 1 Oratoire, the hotels de La Force and de Cre"qui. 
 When, in 1663, Louis XIV., having entered into full possession of royal 
 authority, and wishing to signalize his reign by great monuments, un 
 dertook to finish the Louvre and to give it a facade worthy of tho rest of 
 the edifice, it was necessary for him to pull down, with the Petit-Bour 
 bon, a part of the hotels of the Eue des Poulies, and among others that 
 of Longueville. This was the most ancient and most considerable. It 
 was composed of a large front building, of a vast court, of the hotel 
 proper, with immense gardens. Those of our readers who desire to be 
 sure of the correctness of these details, have only to cast their eyes upon 
 the excellent plan of Gomboust, which gives an admirable view of Paris 
 in the seventeenth century, in 1652. 
 
 21* 
 
24:6 OUAPTEK III. 
 
 persuade herself, notwithstanding the most sincere 
 tenderness, to take care of the interesting sufferer ; 
 but Mademoiselle de Rambouillet did not abandon 
 her, 1 and there was a sort of public rejoicing when it 
 was known that Madame de Longueville had been 
 spared, and that, if she had lost the first freshness of 
 her beauty, she had preserved all its brilliancy. 
 These are the very words of Retz, 2 and the gallant 
 Bishop de Grasse, Godeau, confirms them by com 
 pliments which, in a sermon-like manner, he ad 
 dresses to Madame de Longueville. 3 
 
 During this sickness, M. de Longueville did not 
 come near his wife. The Cardinal de Richelieu had 
 
 1 It is truly inconceivable that a woman of so much mind as Madame 
 de Sable, could have carried her fear of sickness and contagion so far as 
 all contemporary writers, Voiture, Tallemant, Mademoiselle, etc., testify. 
 Her weakness upon this occasion, and the fidelity of Mademoiselle de 
 Rambouillet, are attested to us by several unpublished letters of those 
 ladies, which we find in the Library of the Arsenal, among the papers 
 of Conrart, in-4, vol. xiv. 
 
 a It is in vain that Mademoiselle says, vol. 1st, p. 47, that Madame 
 de Longueville remained marked with the small-pox. Eetz affirms the 
 contrary. Edit, of Amsterdam, 1731, vol. i., p. 185 : "The small-pox 
 had taken away the first flower of her beauty, but left her all its bril 
 liancy." 
 
 3 Letters de Monseigneur Godeau sur divers sujets, Paris, 1713, lettei 
 76, p. 243: " Degrasse, December 13, 1642. ... As to your face, another 
 will rejoice, with much more propriety, that it will not be spoiled. Made 
 moiselle Paulet tells me so. I have so good an opinion of your sense, 
 that I believe you would have been easily consoled if your disease had 
 left its marks. Scars are often given by Divine Mercy to make per 
 sons, who have loved too well their complexions, see that it is a flower 
 liable to fade even as it begins to bloom." 
 
POETRY AND GALLANTRY. 247 
 
 just sent for him to take command of the army of 
 Italy in the place of the Duke de Bouillon, the elder 
 brother of Turenne, who, compromised in the affair 
 of Cinq-Mars, had been arrested, by order of the 
 cardinal, at the head of his army, conducted from 
 Cazal to Lyons, to the Chateau de Pierre-Encise, and 
 who was fortunate enough to be able to purchase his 
 life by abandoning his stronghold of Sedan. 
 
 The winter of 1643 passed away for Madame de 
 Longueville in the agreeable occupations which had 
 delighted her youth. She was constantly at the 
 Louvre, at the hotel de Conde, at the Place-Royal, 
 or at the hotel de Kambouillet, whose eclat was every 
 day increasing. It was about the time of the Guir- 
 lande de Julie. Tallemant had proposed to add to 
 the collection of poems, by Voiture, many other pro 
 ductions of the hotel de Kambouillet. In truth, we 
 might furnish it by aid of the manuscripts of Conrart, 
 who was also one of the inmates of the illustrious 
 hotel. We might draw continually from these inex 
 haustible manuscripts, and we should only be embar 
 rassed as to choice. But if all these verses describe 
 admirably the society of the seventeenth century- 
 fond of wit as well as of bravery, intoxicated with 
 heroism and gallantry they would charm, perhaps 
 moderately, the society of the present day, and we 
 have already put our readers to a test which we 
 
248 CHAPTER III. 
 
 should not dare to repeat. Let us simply say that 
 Madame de Longueville was still more surrounded 
 than Mademoiselle de Bourbon with that poetic in 
 cense, somewhat tiresome it is true, but which has 
 rarely been displeasing to beauties the most spirit- 
 uelle. We have before us poems of every kind, and 
 from every hand, which describe her sometimes at 
 the balls of the Louvre and of the Luxembourg, 
 sometimes at court with her two beautiful friends, 
 Mesdemoiselles Du Yigean, sometimes following her 
 husband into his government of Normandy, and 
 called back by the hotel de Rambouillet, everywhere 
 pursued with assiduous cares and homages, and dis 
 playing everywhere a gentleness full of charm, with 
 a carelessness which seldom abandoned her when 
 her heart was not occupied. And it was not yet 
 occupied, or, if at all, only at the surface. She did 
 not love, but she had distinguished, in the crowd of 
 her adorers. Maurice, Count de Coligny, elder brother 
 of Dandelot, son of Marshal de Chatillon, who had 
 sighed for her before her marriage, and had not yet 
 yielded to a husband of forty-seven years, but little 
 jealous, and even still in the chains of another. 
 
 " I do not know," says Lenet, 1 " whether Coligny 
 was attached to Mademoiselle de Bourbon by reason 
 
 1 Edit. Michaud, p. 450. 
 
POETRY AND GALLANTRY. 249 
 
 of her beauty, her wit, or the respect which he owed 
 her ; but I know well, that although he saw her only 
 in the midst of company, in presence of the princess or 
 of the duke, it was said in the end that he had senti 
 ments of love for her." In addition to this, there is 
 not a word in regard to Coligny, his character, his 
 mind, or his person. All that we know is, that he 
 was one of the particular friends of La Rochefoucauld, 
 and especially of the Duke d Enghien, 1 who em 
 ployed him in more than one delicate negotiation. 
 We confess that such silence is but little in his favor ; 
 but let us bear in mind that Coligny was young, that 
 he had not had time to make himself known, and 
 that he was naturally eclipsed by his younger brother, 
 Dandelot, who inherited his title and took his place 
 near Conde. In the absence of every other docu 
 ment, a manuscript of the National Library, to which 
 we have already had recourse, furnishes us some other 
 details, the correctness of which we do not guaranty, 
 but which, for want of better, we are not permitted to 
 neglect. This manuscript represents Coligny to us 
 as very well made, without, however, a very elegant 
 form ; intellectual and ambitious, but in merit below 
 his ambition. The author, taking appearance for 
 reality, supposes also that Madame de Longueville 
 
 1 Memoires de La Rochefoucauld, collection Petitot, vol. li., pp. 370 
 and 886. 
 
250 CHAPTER III. 
 
 shared the sentiments of Coligny, because she did 
 not repress them ; and he paints, in a very romantic 
 manner, the beginning of their pretended loves. We 
 give the entire passage, leaving it to the judgment of 
 the reader. 1 
 
 " Anne de Bourbon, Duchess de Longueville, was 
 then one of the most pleasing persons in the world, 
 as well on account of the charms of her mind, as on 
 account of those of her beauty. Coligny, eldest son 
 of the Marshal de Chatillon, loved her passionately, 
 and it is said that he was beloved by her. He was 
 a young man of very fine form, but he looked more 
 like a German than a Frenchman. He had infinite 
 spirits and great thoughts, but it was believed that 
 his valor 2 did not equal his ambition. Even before 
 the marriage of this princess, he was on the best 
 terms with her. It is said that he adopted a very 
 excellent and very singular plan for declaring to her 
 his passion. The romance of Polexandre* was very 
 fashionable and much in vogue, but especially at the 
 hotel de Conde, which was then regarded as the tem- 
 
 1 BibliothSque Nutionale, Supplement fraru&is, No. 925. 
 
 a There can be no doubt in this case as to courage ; a Coligny, a friend 
 of Conde, having never been suspected of wanting it. 
 
 8 The Polexandre of Gomberville appeared in 1687. This romance 
 had great success, and in a short time went through several editions; 
 the best and the most complete is that of 1645, in five parts, forming 
 eight volumes. 
 
POETRY AND GALLANTRY. 251 
 
 pie of gallantry and of wit. The Duke d Enghien 
 read this book continually, and, finding in it a tender 
 and passionate letter, he showed it to Coligny, from 
 whom he had nothing to conceal. The latter saw 
 how he might profit by so favorable an occasion, and 
 proposed to the Duke d Enghien to make a copy, 
 and place it adroitly in the pocket of the duchess. 
 Scarcely a day passed that some fete did not occur 
 at the hotel de Conde, and there was dancing almost 
 every evening. The proposition was accepted, and 
 Coligny, having volunteered to copy this letter, gave 
 it to the Duke d Enghien. Upon this day every one 
 was in the gayest attire, and the duchess shone with 
 a thousand rays. The ball began early, and the 
 duke, having taken the hand of his sister, executed 
 easily their design. I know no more of the affair, 
 but apparently the letter was read without giving any 
 offence to the duchess." 
 
 Whilst the young people thus gave themselves up 
 to the pleasures of gallantry, grave events were 
 changing the face of the court and of France. 
 
 Eichelieu had died on the 2d of December, 1642, 
 after having seen Cinq-Mars ascend the scaffold, the 
 Count de Soissons buried in his victory of Marfee, 
 and the Duke de Bouillon compelled to surrender the 
 principality of Sedan to the royal power. Scarcely 
 had he closed his eyes than his enemies renewed 
 
252 CHAFfER III. 
 
 their designs and their hopes. Faithful to his minis 
 ter even after his death, Louis XIII. kept them within 
 bounds for some time. He employed Mazarin, whom 
 the cardinal had given to him, and continued his 
 policy by softening it ; but it did not survive him 
 even for a single year. The 14th of May, 1643, he 
 went to join him, leaving a king four years of age, 
 the regency in the hands of a woman, our northern 
 frontier menaced, factions chafing, and, to sustain the 
 burden of affairs, the Duke d Orleans and the Prince 
 de Conde fortunately united in the council of the 
 regency, Mazarin at the head of the cabinet, and the 
 Duke d Enghien at the head of the army. This was 
 all that was needed for the safety of France. 
 
 The Duke d Enghien received in Flanders, pub 
 licly, by the hands of a courier extraordinary, the 
 news of the king s death. He feared that this news 
 might increase the courage of the Spaniards, and 
 diminish that of the French ; he determined to conceal 
 it, and to hasten the inevitable battle which was to 
 decide the destiny of his country. Lost, it would in 
 troduce the enemy into the heart of the kingdom ; but, 
 gained, it would impress upon Spain and all Europe 
 a terror necessary to the beginning of a new reign ; 
 it would strengthen the regency of Anne of Austria ; 
 it would place royalty above all factions, without 
 taking into consideration the high elevation which it 
 
THE BATTLE OF KOCKOY. 253 
 
 would give to the house of Conde. The Duke d En- 
 ghien submitted the affair to the council of generals, 
 but only for form s sake, declaring that he took upon 
 himself the event; and the next day, May 19th, 
 whilst the body of Louis XIII. was on its way to 
 Saint-Denis, he hazarded the battle of Kocroy. It 
 continued a whole day. Compromised for a short 
 time by the Marshal de 1 Hopital, who had been in 
 trusted with conducting it, it was gained by Conde 
 himself, not yet twenty-two years of age thanks to a 
 manoeuvre which first revealed the great captain, and 
 inaugurated a new school of warfare. 1 Conde, with 
 Gassion, was charged with the command of the right 
 wing. He had confided his left to La Ferte-Sene- 
 terre, as well as to the Marshal de 1 Hopital, who rep 
 resented the old school. He had placed Espenan in 
 the centre with the infantry, and the reserve in the 
 hands of Sirot, 2 an officer of tried bravery, like Gas 
 sion. Directed by Conde in person, the right French 
 wing overthrew every thing that opposed it, and 
 pushed the enemy vigorously. During this time the 
 
 1 I rely upon the report given by Lenet, which is almost the same as 
 that sent at the time, by order of the Duke d Enghien, to his father, the 
 Prince de Conde. Lenet, edit. Michaud, p. 479, etc. See commence 
 ment of chap. iv. 
 
 2 Claude de Letouf de Pradines, Baron de Sirot, a Burgundian gen 
 tleman, born near 1600, mortally wounded in 1652, at the bridge de 
 Gergeau, in the wars of the Fronde. 
 
 22 
 
254: CHAPTER HI. 
 
 left wing, under La Ferte-Seneterre and Marshal de 
 1 Hopital, was very badly treated, and its two com 
 manders placed Jiors de combat / in giving way it 
 threatened to draw with it the centre, where Espenan 
 was maintaining a firm ground, but earnestly calling 
 for reinforcements. Any other than Conde would 
 doubtless have turned upon his steps and retraced, in 
 an equivocal attitude, the space gloriously run over, 
 and, thus affording aid to his left and his centre, con 
 trive, by means of his reserve, to achieve the victory, 
 or cover and repair the defeat. Conde took a very 
 different course : instead of giving way, he advanced 
 still more ; then, having arrived at the extreme of the 
 enemy s lines, where the Italian infantry were loca 
 ted, he turned to the left, threw himself upon this 
 infantry, passed it furiously, and went thundering 
 down upon the rear of the victorious wing, after tell 
 ing Sirot to march, with all his reserve, to the help 
 of Espenan and of 1 Hopital. Thus caught between 
 two fires, the enemy yielded on the left as well as on 
 the right, and the day was won. But it was not 
 enough to have delivered France from present dan 
 ger, it was necessary at the same time to secure the 
 future by removing the terror connected with the 
 name of Spanish arms the name of that old Spanish 
 infantry which formed the reserve, and, according to 
 the rules of ancient strategy and the policy of the 
 
THE BATTLE OF ROCKOY. 255 
 
 court of Madrid, had been carefully preserved, that 
 is, had remained useless. Nothing remained but to 
 destroy this infantry. Conde assailed it on all sides 
 with,, his victorious squadrons, with all that he could 
 pick up of his own infantry, especially with his artil 
 lery, and, after a memorable resistance, he succeeded 
 in demolishing it, root and branch : l it perished al 
 most to a man at Rocroy. 
 
 At the report of this battle, in which every thing 
 was wonderful the youth of the general, the boldness 
 and the novelty of the manoeuvres, and the grandeur 
 of the results the court and all Paris went into 
 transports of enthusiasm. The greatest disasters had 
 been anticipated, but the army was safe, it was vic 
 torious, and the future seemed crowded with similar 
 achievements. From the time of Henri IY., France 
 had doubtless had excellent generals, who were well 
 acquainted with their profession, and who had met 
 
 1 Bossuet, in his admirable narrative of the battle of Eocroy, has per 
 fectly painted its close the destruction of the Spanish infantry ; but he 
 has not even indicated the manoeuvre which decided the day. It is to 
 be regretted that Napoleon did not pay the same attention to the cam 
 paigns of Conde as he did to those of Turcnne and of Frederic, and 
 that after having incidentally judged, with the superiority of a master, 
 and worthily relieved the judicious boldness which achieved the battle 
 of Nortlingen, in which Conde did not fear to engage his only remain 
 ing wing for re-establishing the combat, instead of employing it to make 
 ft very difficult retreat before the cavalry of Jean de Vert, he did not 
 devote a chapter to the examination of the battle of Eocroy, which opens 
 a new military school. 
 
256 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 with great success in Germany and in Italy ; but 
 here was a general, of twenty-two years, who eclipsed 
 them all, and who created a new mode of warfare, 
 wherein boldness was at the service of calculation, 
 just as Descartes and Comeille pardon me the com 
 parison had created a new philosophy and a new 
 poesy, to serve as a solid foundation or brilliant in 
 terpreter to sublime sentiments and thoughts. Rocroy 
 answers to the Cid^ to Cinna, and to Polyeucte, so 
 also to the Discours de La Jbfethode in the history of 
 French greatness : incomparable epoch, which no 
 other has ever equalled, and which not even that of 
 the Consulate, after Marengo, approaches, because, 
 amid all its splendors, it had neither a Descartes nor 
 a Corneille 1 
 
 We may easily imagine the intoxication of the 
 hotel de Conde, when La Moussaye, one of the com 
 panions of the Duke d Enghien in the amusements 
 of Chantilly and Liancourt, and who had served him 
 faithfully during the eventful day, brought the tri 
 umphant news. All the muses of Rambouillet, great 
 and small, sang the exploits of their brilliant pupil. 
 The Spanish flags taken at Rocroy were displayed 
 for several days in the great halls of the hotel de 
 Conde, before being transported to Notre-Dame. The 
 people hastened to behold them. "While all hearts 
 were beating with patriotic pride, all eyes were also 
 
THE BATTLE OF EOCROY. 257 
 
 moved to tears when it was known that the young 
 captain, as humane and pious as he was brave, had, 
 before all his army, knelt upon the battle-field in 
 thanksgiving to God ; that he had immediately taken 
 care of the wounded, conquerors and conquered, as if 
 they had been of his own household, consoling them, 
 encouraging them, distributing every thing abun 
 dantly among them without ever humiliating them ; 
 that he had asked for his lieutenants every recom 
 pense, wishing, like the Cid, Polexandre, and Cyrus, 
 those heroes of tragedy and romance, glory alone. 
 In a short time it was known, that after a few days 
 devoted to religion and to humanity, the Duke 
 d Enghien ha d resumed the pursuit of the enemy, 
 and that he was already under the walls of Thion- 
 ville. 
 
 The house of Conde needed the eclat and the 
 strength which it received from the victory of Ro- 
 croy in order to face its own enemies, and to obtain 
 satisfaction of the insult which it had just received 
 in the person of Madame de Longueville. 
 
 It is necessary to have a just idea of the situation 
 of affaire, as well as of the situation of the parties who 
 disputed the government, in order to see the impor 
 tance of an adventure which in itself seems to be of 
 little consequence. 
 
 Soon after the death of Richelieu, there sprang up 
 22* 
 
258 CHAPTER III. 
 
 a powerful faction, composed of all those whom the im 
 perious cardinal had sacrificed to his designs, whom 
 he had had exiled from the court or from France, and 
 who, their terrible adversary being dead, burned to 
 take possession of his spoils. They expected the sup 
 port of Queen Anne, for she also had been oppressed, 
 and it was in her service that they had incurred per 
 secution. The favor of the regent appeared to them 
 a debt, and they claimed it in a manner which, little 
 by little, wounded the queen and turned her against 
 them. In proportion as they lost ground with her, 
 Mazarin gained it. He was still young, handsome, 
 mild, insinuating, faithful to the policy of Richelieu, 
 his master, but practising it differently ; of a mind 
 less elevated, less extensive not uniting, like his in 
 comparable predecessor, the genius of administration 
 in all its branches to that of politics in general ; es 
 pecially a diplomatist, but a diplomatist of the first 
 order, with his name attached to two of the greatest 
 treaties of the seventeenth century, the treaty of 
 "Westphalia and that of the Pyrenees ; inexhaustible 
 in resources and in expedients ; always preferring 
 artifice to violence ; managing every one, treating 
 with all parties, choosing rather to corrupt than to 
 exterminate them ; aiming, especially in 1643, to 
 penetrate into the heart of the queen, as had been 
 attempted by Richelieu, but possessing many other 
 
MAZARIN AND THE IMPORTANTS. 259 
 
 means for succeeding in his design. The handsome 
 cardinal 1 then gained his end. Once master of the 
 heart, 2 he directed easily the mind of the queen, and 
 taught her the difficult art of pursuing steadily the 
 same aim, the supremacy of royal authority, by 
 means of the most contrary conduct, according to 
 the change of circumstances. In the beginning, all 
 his efforts were used in supporting himself and in 
 avoiding the Importants. Such was the name ap 
 plied to the chiefs of the malcontents, on account of 
 the air of importance which they assumed, blaming 
 inconsiderately every measure of government, affect 
 ing a sort of melancholy, of profundity, and of refined 
 sublimity, which separated them from other men. 
 They ruled in the salons, and they exercised con 
 siderable authority at court and throughout all the 
 kingdom, because they had at their head the two 
 great houses of Yendome and of Lorraine. 
 
 The Duke de Beaufort, second son of* the Duke 
 Cesar de Yendome, bore proudly the name of grand- 
 
 1 There is not, we believe, or at least we do not know that there is, 
 any portrait painted or engraved of Mazarin in his youth. He was but 
 forty-one years of age in 1643, and a portrait by M. Lasne represents 
 him then with a face still handsome, in which delicacy is united with 
 grandeur. 
 
 a See, upon this delicate point, M. Walkenser, Memoires sur Madame 
 deSivigne, vol. i., p. 213, especially the somewhat decided letter of Anne 
 to Mazarin, vol. Hi., Supplement, p. 471. 
 
260 CHAPTER III. 
 
 son of Henry IY. : he was possessed of bravery and 
 of honor. During the evil times, he had shown a chiv 
 alrous fidelity to the queen, who, before having ap 
 preciated Mazarin, was much inclined to his side ; 
 and he would have perhaps succeeded, if he had 
 not spoiled his affairs by excessive pretensions and 
 by a haughtiness of little efficacy with a Spanish 
 woman, who must be a long time flattered before 
 she can be governed. He had, moreover, no genius, 
 and he would have made a miserable figure in the 
 highest rank : he was made only for the part 
 which he afterwards played, that of a theatrical 
 hero. 
 
 The exhausted house of Guise did not possess at 
 this time a single superior man. Long exiled, it 
 had, in 1640, lost in Italy its chief, Charles de Lor 
 raine, and, in 1639, the Prince de Joinville, to whom 
 Mademoiselle de Bourbon had once been destined. 
 The brother who followed this prince was that Henri 
 de Guise, at first archbishop of Rheims, then Duke 
 de Guise, so celebrated for his adventures, his bra 
 very, and his fickleness ; who had all kinds of ambi 
 tion, formed all sorts of enterprises, and succeeded in 
 nothing, not even in being a hero of romance, what 
 ever may be said of him. See, I pray, if this is the 
 life of a chevalier, of an ancient paladin, as Madame 
 
MAZARIN AND THE IMPORT ANTS. 261 
 
 de Motteville calls him -, 1 and if, according to the pre 
 tensions of Mademoiselle, 2 he made love after the 
 manner of romances. After the death of his father 
 and of his elder brother, he made his peace with 
 Richelieu, and returned to the court: a year had 
 scarcely passed by, when he conspired against Riche 
 lieu with the Count de Soissons, and was compelled 
 to quit Franc. Whilst archbishop of Rheirns, he 
 was smitten with the beautiful Anne de Gonzague, 
 afterwards Princess Palatine ; he was engaged to her 
 by an explicit promise of marriage, and when Anne 
 de Gonzague, relying upon his word, commits the 
 folly of going, under the name of Madame de Guise, 
 to rejoin him at Brussels, she finds him married to 
 the Countess de Bossu, of whom he soon grows 
 weary and abandons, in order to return to Paris, 
 when Richelieu and Louis XIII. are no more. There 
 he pays a very easy court to Madame de Montbazon. 
 A little while after he falls madly in love with Mad 
 emoiselle de Pons, one of the maids of honor of 
 Queen Anne, very pretty and very coquettish : he 
 wishes to marry her ; he goes to Rome to solicit the 
 dissolution of his first marriage, and by the way, in 
 order to conquer a crown for his new mistress, he 
 places himself at the head of the insurrection of 
 
 1 Vol. ii., p. 108. Memoires t vol. L, p. 281. 
 
262 CHAPTER III. 
 
 pies. He arrives through a thousand hazards, dis 
 plays the most brilliant valor, without any political 
 or military talent, is made prisoner by the Spaniards, 
 begs Conde, unfortunately then all-powerful in Spain, 
 to obtain his deliverance, promising to him eternal 
 devotion ; and after recovering his liberty, thanks to 
 the intervention of Conde, instead of serving him as 
 he had publicly sworn, he abandons him, passes over 
 to Mazarin, takes part in every thing opposed to his 
 liberator, commences a lawsuit against this same 
 Mademoiselle de Pons, whom he wished to make 
 queen of Naples, for the recovery of the furniture 
 and jewels which he had given her, becomes high 
 chamberlain, and is fit only to parade in fetes and 
 tourneys of the court, and to call forth the speech, 
 when seen in the company of Conde : " There goes 
 the hero of fable by the side of the hero of history :" 
 carrying with him to the tomb, in 1664, that illustri 
 ous house of Guise which merited a very different 
 end. In 1643, on his arrival in Paris, he fell into 
 the party of the Importants, and he was marvellously 
 formed for one of the chiefs of this party, for he was 
 vain, brilliant, and incapable. 
 
 The women occupied a prominent place in this an 
 ticipated Fronde of the beginning of the regency. 
 Queen Anne had formerly had for her friends the 
 celebrated Duchess de Chevreuse and Mademoiselle 
 
MAZARIN AND THE IMPORTANTS. 263 
 
 d Hautefort, afterwards Duchess de Schomberg. 
 These ladies shared equally great beauty, ambi 
 tion, and a courageously supported disgrace. Marie 
 d Hautefort 1 was, with Madame de Sable, one of the 
 models of a true precieuse, whose conduct equalled 
 her maxims. Maid of honor to the queen, Louis 
 XIII. had entertained for her that Platonic love, then 
 in fashion, which he also showed for Mademoiselle 
 de La Fayette. Richelieu, after having vainly en 
 deavored to obtain her, had embroiled her with her 
 royal lover, and exiled her from the court. Queen 
 Anne had loved her almost as much as the king; 
 and, as soon as she was free and mistress of herself, 
 she wrote to her with her own hand : " Come, my 
 dear friend, I am dying with impatience to embrace 
 you." Mademoiselle d Hautefort eagerly obeyed the 
 summons ; but when she wished to speak of Mazarin 
 as she formerly did of Richelieu, she found a less fa 
 vorable audience, and, not knowing how to accom 
 modate herself to the new situation, her stately ten- 
 
 * Madame de Motteville has thus painted her, vol. i., p. 47 : " Her 
 eyes were blue, large, and full of fire ; her teeth white and even, and her 
 complexion had the white and incarnation necessary to a light beautv." 
 Her Norn de Precieiise was Hermione, G-rand Dictionnaire des Pretieuses, 
 vol. i., p. 218. Scarron has greatly celebrated her. Married in 1646 to 
 the Marshal Charles de Schomberg, she followed him into his govern 
 ment of Trois Eveches, encountered Metz, the young Bossuet, and en 
 couraged his first efforts. After the death of the marshal she lived in 
 retirement, and died in 1691. 
 
264 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 derness became wearisome. Madame de Chevreuse 
 had possessed the beauty 1 of Mademoiselle d Haute- 
 fort, but not her virtues. Marie de Rohan Montba- 
 zon, daughter of the Duke Hercule de Montbazon by 
 a former marriage, was first married to the High 
 Constable de Luynes, early became a widow, and 
 then entered the house of Lorraine by marrying the 
 Duke de Chevreuse. A victim of her fidelity to the 
 queen, banished by Richelieu, she had long wan 
 dered in Europe, and returned to France with the 
 pretensions of an emigrant. Occupied with gallantry, 
 devoted to the lover of the moment, she moved 
 heaven and earth to overturn Mazarin and to put in 
 his place Chateauneuf, the old keeper of the seals, 
 who, in the party, passed for a man of superior ca 
 pacity, and in the State for being the most important 
 minister. She exacted also a high situation for La 
 Rochefoucauld, who had been more or less tenderly 
 attached to her, and who still possessed that romantic 
 
 1 To judge of her beauty, she should not be seen as Ketz saw her 
 at fifty years of age, nor as most of her portraits show her at the 
 approach of age, with the widow s cap which she wore after the death 
 of her second husband ; she should be seen when young and brilliant, 
 if not during the life of the High Constable De Luynes, at least at the 
 period of her second marriage. Born in 1604, married in 1617, a widow 
 in 1619, remarried in 1622, at the age of eighteen, she had from fifteen 
 to twenty years of the greatest splendor. Her form was charming. 
 She had blue eyes, light chestnut hair, and a most beautiful bosom. 
 Thus she is represented by several of the portraits of the times pos 
 sessed by the Duke do Luynes, also by a charming portrait engraved 
 by Daret, 
 
MAZARIN AND THE IMFORTANTS. 265 
 
 sentimentality, in the fashion of the Duke de Guise, 
 whose foundation is almost always a vanity, shame 
 ful in itself, and whose climax must, in this case, be 
 the book of maxims. 
 
 Mazarin defended himself, as we have said, by 
 gaining, little by little, the heart of the queen ; and 
 to the attacks of the houses of Yendome and of Lor 
 raine he opposed the weight of the old partisans of 
 Richelieu, still numerous and influential, especially 
 the house of Conde, with its alliances and its friend 
 ships, the Mqntmorencys, the Longuevilles, the Bre- 
 zes, the Yentadours, the Chatillons. Mazarin would 
 have been undone in these difficult beginnings, if the 
 Prince de Conde had not remained firmly attached to 
 royal authority. He supported the uncertain Duke 
 d Orleans, who, after having engaged in more than 
 one intrigue against Eichelieu, and saved himself by 
 betraying his friends, had attempted again to lay his 
 snares. The prince was too good a politician not to un 
 derstand that it was better for him to be the powerful 
 protector, rather than the unequal adversary of royal 
 ty ; that in this case it was necessary to defend it with 
 energy, and that his rank would always raise him 
 above a minister, when this minister was not Riche 
 lieu : and if no one contested the capacity of Maza 
 rin, no one would suspect all his power. As chief of 
 
 the council and governor of Paris, M. the Prince ap- 
 
 23 
 
266 CHAPTER III. 
 
 plied himself, in concert with M. the Lieutenant-Gen- 
 eral of the kingdom, to baffle all the designs of the 
 Importants, and in this way he made bitter en 
 emies. 
 
 Their hatred for the house of Conde, hardly fell 
 upon Madame de Longueville. Her gentleness in 
 every thing in which her heart was not seriously en 
 gaged, her perfect indifference in regard to politics 
 at this period of her life, with the graces of her mind 
 and of her person, rendered her pleasing to every 
 one, and protected her against the injustice of parties. 
 But aside from the affairs of State, she had an enemy, 
 and a fearful enemy, in the Duchess de Montbazon. 
 "We have said that Madame de Montbazon had been 
 the mistress of M. de Longueville ; it is necessary 
 that she should be a little better known, for she is 
 one of the principal personages of the drama which 
 we are about to relate. 
 
 Marie de Bretagne, who was born about 1612, and 
 who died in 1657, at the age of forty-five, was the 
 eldest daughter of that famous Countess de Yertus, 
 whose father was La Yarenne Fouquet, chief of the 
 household, and very obliging servant of Henry IY. 
 The Count de Yertus, of the illustrious house of Bre 
 tagne, had married Mademoiselle de La Yarenne on 
 account of her extreme beauty, and he had hastened 
 to withdraw her from Paris, and to take her to his 
 
MADAME DE MONTBAZON. 267 
 
 own house. He gained nothing by this, and Talle- 
 mant 1 has told us, concerning the beautiful and fool 
 ish countess, a story of the most tragic nature. In 
 beauty the daughter was worthy of the mother, but 
 in vices she left her far behind. Married, in 1628, 
 to the old Duke de Montbazon, father of Madame de 
 Chevreuse, she soon placed herself at ease. Her 
 mind was not her most brilliant side, and the little 
 that she had was turned to intrigue and perfidy. 
 " Her mind," says the indulgent Madame de Motte- 
 ville, 2 " was not so fine as her person ; her brilliancy 
 was limited to her eyes, which commanded love. 
 She claimed universal admiration." In regard to her 
 character, all are unanimous. Retz, who knew her 
 well, speaks of her in these terms : 3 " Madame de 
 Montbazon was a very great beauty. Modesty was 
 wanting in her air. Her jargon might, in a dull 
 time, have supplied the defects of her mind. She 
 showed but little faith in gallantry, none in business. 
 She loved her own pleasure alone, and above her 
 pleasure her interest. I never saw a person who, in 
 vice, preserved so little respect for virtue." Su- 
 
 1 Tallemant, vol. iii., p. 407. a Memoires, vol. i., p. 46. 
 
 1 Vol. i., p. 221. He cites, as well as Tallemant and even Madame de 
 Motteville, incredible things. The collections of songs of the times 
 abound in outrageous epigrams against her. See the Collection of 
 Afavrepas, in the National Library, and the collections of Chanson s 
 Jiistoriques, of the Library of the Arsenal. 
 
268 CHAPTER III. 
 
 premely vain and passionately fond of money, it was 
 by aid of her beauty that she sought influence and 
 fortune. She therefore took infinite care of it, as of 
 her idol, as of her resources, her treasure. She kept 
 it in repair, heightened it by all kinds of artifices, and 
 preserved it almost uninjured till her death. Ma 
 dame de Motteville asserts that, during the latter part 
 of her life, she was as full of vanity as if she were but 
 twenty-five years of age ; T that she had the same 
 desire to please, and that she wore her mourning garb 
 in so charming a manner, that " the order of nature 
 seemed changed, since years and beauty could be 
 found united." Ten years before, in 1647, at the age 
 of thirty-five, when Mazarin gave a comedy in the 
 Italian style, that is, an opera, there was in the even 
 ing a great ball, and the Duchess de Montbazon was 
 present, adorned with pearls, with a red feather on 
 her head, and so dazzling in her appearance that the 
 whole company was completely ravished. We can 
 imagine what she was in 1643, at the age of thirty- 
 one years. 
 
 Of the two conditions of perfect beauty, strength 
 and grace, 2 Madame de Montbazon possessed the first 
 in the highest degree ; but this quality being almost 
 alone, or entirely dominant, left something to be de- 
 
 Vol. v., p. 246. " See Introduction. 
 
MADAME DE MONTBAZON. 269 
 
 sired that precisely which makes the charm of 
 beauty. She was tall and majestic, to such a point 
 indeed that Tallemant, who always exaggerates, and 
 seldom lies, says : " She was a Colossus." 1 She pos 
 sessed all the charms of embonpoint. Her throat 
 reminded one of the fulness, in this particular, of the 
 antique statues, exceeding them perhaps somewhat. 
 What struck the beholder most were her eyes and 
 hair of intense blackness, upon a groundwork of the 
 most dazzling white. Her defect was a nose some 
 what too prominent, with a mouth so large as to give 
 her face an appearance of severity. 2 It was plain 
 enough that she was the very opposite of Madame de 
 Longueville. The latter was tall, but not to excess. 
 The richness of her form did not diminish its deli 
 cacy. A moderate embonpoint exhibited, in full and 
 exquisite measure, the beauty of the female form. 
 Her eyes were of the softest blue ; her hair of the 
 most beautiful blonde. She had the most majestic 
 
 i Vol. iii., p. 410. 
 
 a In regard to the beauty of Madame de Montbazon, we have united 
 what is said by Tallemant, vol. iii., p. 411, and by Madame de Motte- 
 ville, vol. i., p. 146. The reader may judge of the truth of our descrip 
 tion by going to see, at Versailles, in the curious gallery of the northern 
 attic, under No. 2030, a small picture, representing Madame de Montba 
 zon, at the age of thirty-five to forty years, with a collar of pearls, a 
 beautiful forehead, fine black eyes, a magnificent throat ; but all some 
 what strong and without much distinction. This picture seems the 
 original of the portrait engraved by Le Blond. 
 
 23* 
 
270 CHAPTER III. 
 
 air, and yet her peculiar characteristic was grace. To 
 these add the great difference of manners and tone. 
 Madame de Longueville was, in her deportment, dig 
 nity, politeness, modesty, sweetness itself, with a lan 
 guor and a nonchalance which formed not her least 
 charm. Her words were few, as well as her gestures ; 
 the inflexions of her voice were a perfect music. 1 
 The excess, into which she never fell, might have 
 been a sort of fastidiousness. Every thing in her was 
 wit, sentiment, charm. Madame de Montbazon, on 
 the contrary, was free of speech, bold and easy in her 
 tone, full of stateliness and pride. 
 
 She was nevertheless a very attractive creature, 
 when she wished to be so, and she had a great num 
 ber of adorers, and of happy adorers, from Gaston, 
 Duke of Orleans, and the Count de Soissons, slain at 
 Marfee, to Ranee, the young and gallant editor of 
 Anacreon, and the future founder of La Trappe. 
 M. de Longueville had been for some time her lover 
 by title, and he afforded her considerable advan 
 tages. When he married Mademoiselle de Bourbon, 
 Madame the Princess exacted, without however being 
 very faithfully obeyed, the discontinuance of all in 
 tercourse with his old mistress. Hence, in that inter 
 ested soul, an irritation, which wounded vanity 
 
 1 Villefore, p. 82. 
 
MADAME DE MONTBAZON. 271 
 
 redoubled, when she saw this young woman, with her 
 great name, her marvellous mind, her undefinable 
 charms, advance into the world of gallantry, without 
 the least effort draw after her all hearts, and take pos 
 session of, or at least share that empire of beauty of 
 which she was so proud, and which was to her so 
 precious. On the other hand, the Duke de Beaufort 
 had not been able to restrain a passionate admiration 
 for Madame de Longireville, which had been very 
 coldly received. He was wounded by it, and his 
 wound bled for a long time, as his friend, La Chatre, 
 informs us, 1 even after he had transferred his homage 
 to Madame de Montbazon. The latter, as may be 
 easily imagined, was again exasperated. Finally, 
 the Duke de Guise, recently from Paris, placed him 
 self in the party of the Importants, and at the service 
 of Madame de Montbazon, who received him very 
 well, at the same time that she was striving to keep 
 or to recall M. de Longueville, and that she was ruling 
 Beaufort, whose office near her was that, somewhat, 
 of an attending cavalier. Thus we see that Madame 
 de Montbazon disposed, through Beaufort and through 
 Guise, as also through her daughter-in-law, Madame 
 de Chevreuse, of the house of Vendome, and of the 
 house of Lorraine, and she employed all this credit 
 
 i Memoires of La CMtre in the collection Petitot, vol. li., p. 230. 
 
272 CHAPTEB III. 
 
 to tlie profit of her hatred against Madame de 
 Longueville. She burned to injure her ; she found 
 an opportunity to do it. 
 
 One day when a large company was assembled at 
 her house, some person picked up two letters, having 
 no signatures, but in the handwriting of a female, and 
 of a somewhat equivocal . style. They were read ; a 
 thousand jokes were perpetrated concerning them, 
 and some effort made to discover the author. Ma 
 dame de Montbazon pretended that they had fallen 
 from the pocket of Maurice de Coligny, who had just 
 gone out, and that they were in the handwriting of 
 Madame de Longueville. The word of command 
 thus once given, all the echoes of the party of the 
 Iinportants spread it, and-this adventure became the 
 entertainment of the court. The following are the 
 two letters, found at the house of Madame de Mont 
 bazon : a frivolous curiosity has preserved them very 
 faithfully : T 
 
 " I should much more regret the change in your 
 conduct if I thought myself less worthy of a con 
 tinuation of your affection. I confess to you that so 
 long as I believed it to be true and warm, mine gave 
 
 1 Mademoiselle, vol. 1st, pp. 62 and 63. 
 
THE TWO LETTERS. 273 
 
 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 more the power of com 
 manding 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 con 
 tinuation ! You say that my suspicions and my ine 
 qualities render you the most unhappy person in the 
 world : I assure you that I believe no such thing, al 
 though" 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 inten 
 tions. 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 
 
274 CHAPTER III. 
 
 suffer for not loving enough, and you for loving too 
 much. 1 If I must believe you, let us exchange hu 
 mors : I shall find repose in doing my duty, and you 
 in doing yours must fail, 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 
 in my lodgings three or four days in succession, and 
 will be seen only in the evening: you know the 
 reason.? 
 
 These letters were not forged. They had been 
 really written by Madame de Fouquerolles to the 
 handsome and elegant Marquis de Maulevrier, 2 who 
 had been foolish enough to drop them in the salon of 
 Madame de Montbazon. Maulevrier, trembling at 
 being discovered, and at having compromised Mad 
 ame de Fouquerolles, ran to one of the chiefs of the 
 Importants, La Rochefoucauld, who was his friend, 
 confided to him his secret, and begged him to under 
 take to hush up the aifair. La Rochefoucauld made 
 
 1 It seems to me that it would be better to say : " I suffer for loving 
 too much, and you for not loving enough." 
 3 See Mademoiselle, Madame de Motteville, and La Kochefoucauld. 
 
THE TWO LETTERS. 275 
 
 Madame de Montbazon understand that it was for 
 her interest to be generous on this occasion, for the 
 error or fraud would be easily recognized as soon as 
 the writing should be compared with that of Madame 
 de Longueville. Madame de Montbazon placed the 
 original letters in the hands of La Rochefoucauld, 
 who showed them to M. the Prince, and to Madame 
 the Princess, to Madame de Kambouillet, and to 
 Madame Sable, particular friends of Madame de 
 Longueville, and, the truth being well established, 
 burned them in the presence of the queen, delivering 
 Maulevrier and Madame de Fouquerolles from the 
 terrible uneasiness into which they had been for some 
 time thrown. 1 
 
 It had perhaps been wise to have dropped the 
 matter here. This was the somewhat interested opin 
 ion of the weak and prudent M. de Longueville, who 
 wished to manage Madame de Montbazon, and who 
 did not believe that the honor of his wtfe would gain 
 much by farther disclosures. Madame de Longue 
 ville was not very much irritated ; but Madame the 
 Princess, impelled by her high spirit, and still intox 
 icated by the success of her son, exacted a reparation 
 equal to the offence, and declared loudly that, if the 
 queen and the government did not defend the honor 
 
 1 Memoires de La Kochefoucauld, Collection Petitot, vol. li., p. 387. 
 
276 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 of her house, she and all her family would withdraw 
 from the court. She was indignant at the mere idea 
 of placing her daughter in the scales with the grand 
 daughter of a cook, as she called La Yarenne, father 
 of the Countess de Yertus, who had been chief of the 
 hotel of Henri IY. In vain did the whole party of 
 the Important*, with Beaufort and Guise at their 
 head, agitate and threaten ; in vain did Madame de 
 Chevreuse, who had not yet lost all her credit with the 
 queen, strive earnestly in behalf of her mother-in- 
 law. Mazarin was too wise to take two enemies upon 
 his arms at once, and to become embroiled with the 
 Condes, without any hope of gaining or disarming 
 the Lorraines and the Yendomes. He inclined the 
 queen without difficulty to the side of Madame the 
 Princess. Madame de Longueville had gone to pass 
 the first moments of this disagreeable adventure at 
 La Barre, with her dear friends, Mesdemoiselles Du 
 Yigean. The queen herself went to see her there, 
 and promised her protection. It was decided that 
 the Duchess de Montbazon should repair to Madame 
 the Princess at the hotel de Conde, and make to her 
 a public reparation. Madame de Motteville tells, in 
 a very pleasant way, how much diplomacy was ne 
 cessary in order to arrange the speech of Madame de 
 Montbazon and the reply of Madame the Princess. 
 The queen was in her cabinet, and Madame the 
 
THE TWO LETTERS. 277 
 
 Princess, terribly excited, was with her, endeavoring 
 to make the affair one of high-treason. Madame de 
 Chevreuse, engaged for a thousand reasons in the 
 quarrel of her mother-in-law, was with Cardinal Maz- 
 arin, composing the speech necessary to be made 
 upon the occasion. Every word of it occasioned an 
 hour s discussion. The cardinal, greatly embarrassed, 
 went from one side to the other to accommodate their 
 differences, as if this peace was necessary to the hap 
 piness of France, and to his own in particular. It 
 was concluded that the criminal should go, the next 
 day, to Madame the Princess, and say that the ex 
 pressions used in regard to the letters were false, 
 invented by evil-disposed persons, and that she her 
 self had never entertained them, knowing too well 
 the virtue of Madame de Longueville and the respect 
 that was due to her. This harangue was written upon 
 a small piece of paper and attached to her fan, in 
 order that she might repeat it word for word to Mad 
 ame the Princess. She did it in the most haughty 
 manner possible, putting on an air which seemed to 
 say : I jest in every word I utter. 
 
 Mademoiselle 1 gives us the two speeches made 
 upon the occasion : " Madame, I come here to pro 
 test to you that I am innocent of the wickedness of 
 
 Vol. i., p. 65. 
 
 24 
 
278 CHAPTER III. 
 
 which I have been accused : no person of honor can 
 litter a calumny like this. If I had committed a fault 
 like this, I should have submitted to any punishment 
 which it might have pleased the queen to inflict upon 
 me ; I should have never shown myself in the world, 
 and would have asked your pardon. I beg you to 
 believe that I shall never fail in the respect which I 
 owe to you and in the opinion which I have of the 
 virtue and of the merit of Madame de Lonerueville." 
 
 O 
 
 Madame the Princess replied : " Madame, I receive 
 very willingly the assurance which you give me that 
 you have had no part in the wicked things that have 
 been circulated ; I have too much respect for the 
 commands of the queen." 
 
 We find in the manuscript journal of Olivier 
 d Ormesson some details which add to the piquancy 
 of this comical scene. It took place on the 8th of 
 August. The Cardinal Mazarin was present, as a 
 witness on the part of the queen. Madame de Mont- 
 bazon having begun her speech without saying Ufad- 
 ame, the princess complained, and she was obliged 
 to recommence with the respectful addition. Such 
 a reconciliation amounted to nothing, and a few days 
 after war recommenced. 
 
 Besides the satisfaction which she had just received, 
 Madame the Princess had asked and had been per 
 mitted the privilege of never associating with the 
 
THE TWO LETTERS. 279 
 
 Duchess de Montbazon. Some time after, Madame 
 de Chevreuse invited the queen to a collation in the 
 garden of Kenard. This garden was the rendezvous 
 of the best society. It was at the termination of the 
 Tuileries, near the Porte de la Conference, which 
 conducted to the Cours-la-Reine ; that is, at the left 
 angle of the Place Louis XV., upon the ground since 
 occupied by two of those ditches which even to this 
 day have spoiled that magnificent place which might 
 so easily be rendered the most beautiful in Europe. 
 In the summer, on returning from the Cours, which 
 was the promenade of the nobility, and the spot 
 where the beauties of the day exercised their powers, 
 it was customary to stop at the garden Renard, 
 for the purpose of taking refreshments, and to 
 listen to the serenades performed after the Spanish 
 fashion. The queen took great pleasure in visiting 
 this place during the fine summer evenings. She 
 desired Madame the Princess to partake with her 
 the collation offered by Madame cie Chevreuse, as 
 suring her at the same time that Madame de Mont 
 bazon would not be present ; but the latter person 
 was really there, and even pretended to do the hon 
 ors of the collation as mother-in-law of the lady who 
 gave it. Madame the Princess wished to withdraw, 
 in order that the entertainment might not be dis 
 turbed : the queen had no right whatever to detain 
 
280 CHAPTER III. 
 
 her. She therefore begged Madame de Montbazon 
 to pretend sickness, and by leaving the company, to 
 relieve her from embarrassment. The haughty duch 
 ess would not consent to fly before her enemy, and 
 kept her place. The queen, offended, refused the 
 collation, and quitted the promenade. On the mor 
 row, an order from the king enjoined upon Madame 
 de Montbazon to leave Paris. This disgrace irri 
 tated the Importants. They thought themselves hu 
 miliated and enfeebled, and there were no violent or 
 extreme measures which they did not contemplate. 
 The Duke de Beaufort, smitten at once in his credit 
 and in his love, raised loud cries, and it was reported 
 that a plot had been formed against the life of Maz- 
 arin. 1 In this conjuncture the cardinal showed him 
 self the worthy heir of Kichelieu. Although he may 
 have lacked his patience, his cunning, and his in 
 trigue, he was not deprived of courage, and he knew 
 how to take his part. He was already on very good 
 terms w r ith the qu,een, and began to seem necessary, 
 or at least very useful to her. He represented to 
 her mildly, but forcibly, what she owed to the State 
 and to the royal authority now menaced ; that it was 
 necessary to prefer the interests of her son and of his 
 crown to friendships which were perhaps at one time 
 
 1 See the Mcmoires of the times, and especially those of Campion. 
 
TilK TWO LETTERS. 281 
 
 well enough, but which were now becoming dangerous. 
 He won her, and the ruin of the Importants was de 
 cided. On the 2d of September, the Duke de Beau 
 fort was arrested within the very walls of the Louvre, 
 and he was conducted to Yincennes. The command 
 of the Swiss was taken from his friend, La Chatre. 
 The Bishop de Beauvais, who for a short time en 
 joyed the favor of the queen, and was thought of as 
 the successor of Kichelieu, was sent to his church ; 
 the Duke de Yendome, as well as the Duke de Mer 
 cosur, his eldest son, were exiled, and Madame de 
 Chevreuse banished to Tours. These measures, sea 
 sonably executed, broke up the party of the Impor 
 tants. The intestine disorders which menaced the 
 new reign were destined to await more favorable 
 days. Mazarin, soon without a rival with the queen, 
 continued at home and especially abroad the policy 
 of his predecessor, and royalty, as well as France, 
 anticipated a succession of glorious years, thanks to 
 the union of the princes of the blood with the crown, 
 to the skilful management of the prime minister, to 
 the prudence of Conde, and to the military genius 
 of the Duke d Enghien. 
 
 The latter had returned to Paris at the close of the 
 campaign, after having taken Thionville and several 
 other places, and brought his victorious army over 
 the Rhine. The queen had received him as the 
 
282 CHAPTER III. 
 
 deliverer of France. Mazarin, who thought more of 
 the reality than of the appearance of power, told him 
 that his greatest ambition was to be his chaplain 
 and his business man with the queen. At a distance 
 the Duke d Enghien had applauded all that had been 
 done, and he returned still burning for Mademoiselle 
 Du Yigean, and furious on account of the insult which 
 had been offered to his sister. He adored his sister, 
 and he loved Coligny. He was acquainted with, and 
 he had favored his passion. Burning himself with a 
 love as ardent as it was chaste, he knew that his sister 
 could not have been insensible to the passion of 
 Maurice ; but he revolted at the thought of attributing 
 to her the letters of one Madame de Fouquerolles, 
 and he took it in a manner which intimidated the 
 most insolent. 
 
 Among the friends of the Duke de Beaufort and 
 of Madame de Montbazon, was the Duke de Guise, 
 afterwards chief of the house of Lorraine in France. 
 He had been secured, as well as all his family, on 
 account of Gaston, Duke of Orleans, who had taken, 
 as a second wife, a princess of this house, the beauti 
 ful Marguerite. 1 The Duke de Guise was such as 
 we have described him. He had committed more 
 than one folly, but he had not yet shamefully failed 
 
 1 Second daughter of Duke Francois. This marriage, contracted in 
 1632, is a romance, which may be read in all the memoirs of the times. 
 
DUEL BETWEEN COLIGNY AND GUISE. 283 
 
 in all his enterprises ; his incapacity was not declared. 
 He had all the prestige of his name, of youth, of 
 beauty, and of a bravery bordering upon temerity. 
 The avowed servant of Madame de Montbazon, he 
 had espoused her quarrel, without entering into the 
 violence of Beaufort, and he stood boldly up before 
 the victorious Condes. 
 
 Coligny had been prudent enough to withdraw 
 during the storm, for fear of still more compromising 
 Madame de Longueville by becoming openly her 
 defender ; but some months having passed, he thought 
 that he might show himself, and, as we are informed 
 by the unpublished work upon the regency, which we 
 have several times quoted, 1 " the prison of the Duke 
 de Beaufort not affording him an opportunity to draw 
 his sword, he addressed himself to the Duke de 
 Guise." La Eochefoucauld states it thus : 2 " The 
 Duke d Enghien, not being able to testify to the 
 Duke de Beaufort, who was in prison, the resentment 
 which he felt on account of what had happened be 
 tween Madame de Longueville and Madame de 
 Montbazon, suffered Coligny to fight with the Duke 
 de Guise, who had taken part in this affair." The 
 Duke d Enghien knew, then, and approved what 
 Coligny did. As for Madame de Longueville, it is 
 
 1 Royal Library, Supplement Francis, No. 925, fol. 11. 
 3 Memoires, p. 391. 
 
284: CHAPTER III. 
 
 absurd to suppose that she, wishing to be avenged, 
 drove on Coligny, for every one attributes to her a 
 conduct very moderate compared with that of Ma 
 dame the Princess. Far from encouraging the quarrel, 
 she sought to appease it, and Madame de Motteville 
 herself refutes the report which she relates by say 
 ing : " Her jealousy of the Duchess de Montbazon, 
 being proportioned to her love for her husband, did 
 not carry her away so far as to prevent her from find 
 ing her advantage in dissembling this outrage." 
 
 La Rochefoucauld gives us a piece of information 
 which explains what follows : Coligny had just risen 
 from a long sickness ; he was still feeble, and he was 
 not very skilful in fencing. 1 It was in this condition 
 that he attacked the Duke de Guise, who, like all 
 fancy heroes, possessed great skill in this kind of ex 
 ercise. 
 
 Let us say a few words in regard to the seconds 
 whom they chose ; they are in all respects worthy of 
 the trouble. The seconds were then witnesses who 
 fought. Coligny took for his second and for the 
 bearer of his challenge, Godefroi, Count d Estrades, 
 a man of cool and well-tried courage. D Estrades 
 had served in Holland, under Maurice de Nassau. 
 He had distinguished himself in several such encoun- 
 
 Hemoires, p. 391. 
 
DUEL BETWEEN COLIGNY AND GUISE. 285 
 
 ters. One day, as Tallemant relates, fighting with a 
 bully who placed himself on the border of a little ditch, 
 saying to Estrades : " I will not pass over this ditch." 
 u And I," said Estrades, making a mark behind him 
 with his sword, " I will not pass over this mark." 
 They fought ; Estrades slew him. He was employed, 
 by turns and with equal success, in war and in di 
 plomacy, and became Marshal of France in 1675. 
 The second of the Duke .de Guise was the Marquis 
 de Bridieu, a gentleman of Limosin, a brave officer, 
 and friend of the house of Lorraine, who, in 1650, 
 made an admirable defence of an important strong 
 hold on the frontiers of Flanders, against the Spanish 
 army and against Turenne, for which he was created 
 lieutenant-general. 1 
 
 1 The Place-Koyale and its environs were then the quarters of the 
 upper classes. Begun in 1604 (Antiquities and most remarkable things 
 of Paris, 1608, by Bonfons and by Du Breuil, p. 430), on the ruins of 
 the Palais des Tournelles, by Henri IV., it was finished in 1612. (The 
 atre of the Antiquities of Paris, by Father Du Breuil, in-4, 1613, p. 
 1050.) It is, as is known, a great square, or rather a rectangle, bor 
 dered on all sides by thirty-seven pavilions, supported by pillars form 
 ing a gallery, which extends entirely around the place. In the midst 
 was a vast yard, divided into six beautiful grass-plots. In the centre 
 was the equestrian statue of Louis XIII. The statue was by Biard, 
 and the horse by Daniel de Volterre. On one of the faces of the pedes 
 tal of white marble, was the following inscription: "To the glorious 
 and immortal memory of the great and invincible Louis the Just, 
 thirteenth of the name, King of France and of Navarre, Armand, Car 
 dinal de Richelieu, his principal minister, has raised this statue as an 
 eternal mark of his zeal, of his fidelity, and of his gratitude, in 1639." 
 Under Louis XIV. this beautiful square was surrounded with a rail- 
 
286 CHAPTER III. 
 
 It was agreed that the affair should take place at 
 the Place-Royale the usual theatre of these combats, 
 and which they had a thousand times stained with 
 
 ing of excellent workmanship. Lemaire, said in 1685, vol. iii., p. 307 : 
 " They are now making a balustrade of iron, which will extend entirely 
 around it and inclose a very agreeable garden, in which there will be four 
 great reservoirs of water in the four corners. Private persons having 
 their residences here, will contribute to the expense of this, each 
 the sum of one thousand livres. The city will furnish the rest." 
 Germain Brice, in the first edition of his curious work, which ap 
 peared in 1685, as did that of Lemaire, says the same thing, adding 
 that the inhabitants alone of the place will have the right of enjoying 
 the garden which is to be laid out. " No one will enter except those 
 - belonging to the houses which have been furnished with keys." In 
 the second edition of Brice, of 1687, the beautiful railing was not 
 erected ; it is in the edition which follows, of 1701 ; it is seen in La 
 Caille, in 1714; and in the engraving of Defer, in 1716. As to the 
 garden and the four reservoirs, they are not even yet in the plan of 
 Turgot, in 1740. It was the Restoration which accomplished the de 
 signs of the administration of Louis XIV. How many public and 
 domestic events has this place witnessed during the seventeenth 
 century, how many noble tourneys, how many atrocious duels, how 
 many amiable rendezvous ! What conversations, worthy of those of 
 Decameron, it has heard, conversations which Corneille has collected 
 in one of his first comedies, and in several acts of the Mmteur ! What 
 graceful creatures have inhabited these pavilions ! What sumptuous 
 furniture, what treasures of taste have been assembled here ! How 
 many illustrious personages, of every kind, have mounted these beau 
 tiful staircases ! Richelieu and Conde, Corneille and Moliere, have trod 
 them a thousand times. It was while walking under this gallery that 
 Descartes, conversing with Pascal, suggested to him the idea of his 
 beautiful experiments upon the weight of the air. It was there also 
 that, while going one evening from the house of Madame de Guime- 
 npe, the melancholy Do Thou received from Cinq-Mars the involuntary 
 confidence of the conspiracy which was to lead them both to the scaf 
 fold. It was there, in short, that Madame de Se vigne was born, and 
 close by it she lived. On reaching the Place-Royale by its true en 
 trance, the Eue-Royale, beside the Rue Saint-Antoine, we find at tho 
 
DUEL BETWKKN COLIGNY AND GUISE. 287 
 
 the best blood. The Place-Royale was also the resi 
 dence of the greatest ladies, the flower of gallantry, 
 Marguerite de Rohan, Madame de Guimenee, Ma- 
 
 right angle the h6tel de Kohan, long occupied by the old Duchess 
 Dowager, widow of that great Duke de Rohan, one of the first gener 
 als, and the greatest military writers of his age. In the left angle was 
 the hotel de Chaulnes, whose magnificent apartments have been cele 
 brated by Bois-Robert, and which, at a later period, passed to Nicolai . 
 At the other two corners of the place were, to the right, on the side of 
 the Rue des Tournelles and of the Boulevard, the vast and sumptuous 
 h6tel of Saint-Geran ; and to the left, on the side of the street Saint- 
 Louis, the hotel which was occupied by Richelieu before he had built 
 and finished Palais-Cardinal. The four galleries were filled with hotels 
 not unworthy of those already mentioned. There was the hotel of the 
 Marshal de Lavardin, that of M. de Nouveau, that of Villequier, cap 
 tain of the guards, who sold it to M. de Hameaux, by whom it was re 
 sold, in 1680, to the Rohan-Chabots, and from them this hotel, even in 
 passing through other hands, retained the name of hotel Chabot. M. 
 Wolckenaer, in his La Bruylre, p. 743, says that the Count de Mont 
 gomery and the unfortunate Marquis de Langlade, so celebrated in the 
 history of unjust condemnations, lived together at the Place-Royale. 
 Brice, in 1G85, indicates the hotel of the Marquis de Dangeau, and in 
 1713, on the right, in entering by the Rue Saint- Antoine, the hotel of 
 the Baron de Breteuil, and on the other side the house of the President 
 Carrel. We know certainly that Madame de Sable resided at the Place- 
 Royale, as well as the Countess de Maure, with Mademoiselle de Vau- 
 dy ; but the difficulty would be to discover the inhabitants of all tho 
 other pavilions, and thus to make an exact and complete history of the 
 Place-Royale until the close of the seventeenth century. We suggest 
 this subject of study to some pupil of the Ecole des Char-its, or to some 
 young artist ; they would find in it matter of the most interesting in 
 vestigation, as well as descriptions the most charming, and a modest 
 glory would not fail to follow after a few years of the most attractive 
 labor. We take the liberty of pointing out to them, besides Felibien, 
 vol. ii., Sauval, vol. ii., p. 624, the plan of Gomboust, from 1652, and 
 the after plans, the following works : 1st, T?te Paris G-uide, etc., by the 
 Sieur de Schayes, 1647 ; 2d, The Convenient Book, containing the ad 
 dresses of the city of Paris, by Abraham Pradel, philosopher and math- 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 dame de Chaulnos, Madame do Saint-Goran, Ma 
 dame de Sable, the Countess de Maure, and many 
 others, under whose eyes these thoughtless and val 
 iant gentlemen delighted to cross their swords. 
 Many had there breathed their last. In the first 
 quarter of the seventeenth century, duelling was a 
 custom at once useful and disastrous ; it encouraged 
 the warlike spirit of the nobility, but it was almost 
 as destructive as war, and for more frivolous causes. 
 To draw the sword for a trifle had become a part of 
 genteel manners, and, as gallantry had its elegancies, 
 so the duel had its refinements. During the period 
 of a few short years, nine hundred gentlemen had 
 perished in private combats. To arrest this scourge, 
 Richelieu procured the terrible decree which pun 
 ished the surviving combatant with death, and sent 
 the abettors from the Place-Royale to the Place de 
 Greve. Richelieu was inflexible, and the example 
 
 ematician, Paris, small in 8; Sd, TJie Royal Almanac, of 1699 ; 4th, the 
 sequel to the different editions of G. Brice, from 1685 to 1725 ; 5th, the 
 verses by Scarron, Adieu au Marais et a la Place-Royale^ edit, of Amster 
 dam, of 1752, vol. vii., pp. 29-35 ; 6th, a Manuscript of the National 
 Library, No. 7905, wherein is a Supplement of the Antiquities of Paris, 
 with all the most remarkable transactions from 1610 until the present 
 time, by D. II. J., lawyer. " Until the present time" is up to 1640. 
 Let us conclude with this remark : there is but one hotel of the Place- 
 Koyale which has remained in the same family from 1612 till our 
 own day, namely, the h6tel which bears the No. 25, and which, from 
 father to son, has come down to its present proprietor, M. the Count, do 
 1 Escalopier. 
 
DUEL BETWEEN COLIGNY AND GUISE. 289 
 
 of Montmorency-Boutteville decapitated, with his 
 second, the Count Deschapelles, for having provoked 
 Beuvron, and for fighting with him on the Place- 
 Roy ale in full day impressed a salutary terror, and 
 rendered infractions of the edict rare enough. Co- 
 ligny braved every thing ; he challenged Guise, and, 
 upon the appointed day, the two noble adversaries, 
 assisted by their seconds, d Estrades and Bridieu, met 
 upon the Place-Royale. 
 
 We have it in our power to give the most minute 
 details of the combat, thanks to different contem 
 porary memoirs, and especially to two new docu 
 ments, the manuscript already quoted in regard to the 
 Regency, and the unpublished journal of Olivier 
 d Ormesson. 
 
 It was on the morning of the 12th of December 1 
 that d Estrades carried to the Duke de Guise the 
 challenge of Coligny. The meeting was fixed for the 
 same day, at the Place-Royale, at three 2 o clock. 
 The two adversaries exhibited nothing unusual during 
 the whole morning, and at three o clock they were at 
 the rendezvous. A speech 3 is attributed to the Duke 
 de Guise, which gives to this scene an unexpected 
 
 1 It is d Ormesson who gives this date. ^ 
 
 * D Ormesson, manuscript on the Eegency, whose author seems to 
 be one Maupassant. 
 ? La Koehefoucauld. 
 
 25 
 
290 CHAPTER III. 
 
 grandeur, which exhibits upon the Place-Royale 
 and places in hostility for the last time the two most 
 illustrious combatants of the wars of the League in 
 the persons of their descendants. On receiving his 
 sword, Guise said to Coligny : " We are now going 
 to decide the ancient quarrels of our two houses, and 
 the world shall soon see what difference there is be 
 tween the blood of the Guise and that of Coligny." 
 Coligny aimed at his adversary a prodigious thrust, 
 says the journal of d Ormesson, 1 but, still weak on ac 
 count of his recent sickness, his foot failed him, and 
 he fell upon his knee. Guise, closing with him, 
 placed his foot upon the sword of the fallen man. 
 Coligny, though thus disarmed, would not ask his 
 life. Guise said to him : 2 " I will not kill you, but 
 treat you as you deserve, for having addressed, with 
 out any provocation, a prince of my birth ;" and 
 thereupon he struck him with the flat of his sword. 3 
 Coligny, indignant, summoned all his strength, threw 
 himself backwards, disengaged his sword, and re 
 newed the struggle. 4 In this second encounter, Guise 
 was slightly wounded in the shoulder, 5 and Coligny 
 in the hand ; but Guise, closing with Coligny a sec- 
 
 1 Fol. 28, verso. 2 D Ormesson. 
 
 8 D Ormesson, Maupassant, and La Kochefoucauld. 
 
 4 D Ormesson. 
 
 5 D Ormesson ; Maupassant says in the right side. 
 
DUEL BETWEEN COLIGNY AND GUISE. 291 
 
 ond time, seized his sword, by which he cut his 
 hand somewhat, and, taking it away, disabled him 
 by a terrible cut upon the arm. At the same time 
 d Estrades and Bridieu were sorely wounded. 1 
 
 Such was the issue of this duel, the last, I believe, 
 of the celebrated duels of the Place-Royale. It was 
 referred to Parliament, agreeably to the edict of 
 Richelieu ; but the course of justice was stayed by 
 the influence of Conde, and especially by the deplo 
 rable condition 2 into which Coligny, the most guilty 
 party, had been thrown. The proof that an under 
 standing existed between Conde and Coligny is based 
 upon the fact that the latter found an asylum in his 
 house of Saint-Maur. There he languished some 
 time, 3 and died of the mortification occasioned by 
 
 1 D Ormesson, Maupassant, La Rochefoucauld, Motteville. 
 
 a Maupassant says that the Duke de Guise and Coligny appeared be 
 fore the court and justified themselves, the Duke de Guise with the 
 greatest success and Coligny with very bad grace ; but D Ormesson, so 
 well informed in regard to all that was going on in the Council of State 
 and in the Parliament, says not a word of the matter and nothing is 
 more improbable, Coligny having immediately fallen into a desperate 
 condition. 
 
 8 La Rochefoucauld says that Coligny died four or five months after : 
 it should be four or five days. In fact, we find in the journal of Olivier 
 d Ormesson, fol. 29, as follows : " Tuesday, December 29, the Marquis 
 de Pardaillan came to see me, and told me that M. de Coligny was at 
 Saiut-Muur, and was likely to die of gangrene of his arm." ..." Wed 
 nesday, December 30 (D Ormesson has, through mistake, made it Jan 
 uary), M. de Coligny was beyond hope, his wound making neither flesh 
 nor matter, on account of his naturally bad constitution. M. the Duke 
 d Enghien had resolved to have his arm taken off." 
 
292 CHAPTER Til. 
 
 his poor defence of the cause of his own house and 
 of that of Madame de Ldngueville. 
 
 This affair, with its dramatic circumstances and 
 its tragic denoument, caused an extraordinary and 
 painful sensation throughout Paris and all France. 
 It renewed, for a moment, the differences of parties, 
 and suspended the diversions and fetes of the winter 
 of 1644: j 1 it did not occupy the families interested 
 and the court alone it touched every individual of 
 the higher ranks, and continued for some time to be 
 the subject of conversation for the salons. We easily 
 imagine that, as the story spread, it was gradually 
 lengthened by imaginary incidents. At first, it was 
 supposed that Madame de Longueville loved Coligny. 
 Then, that the tale might not lack interest, it was as 
 serted that she did. Hence the other invention, that 
 she herself had placed the sword in the hand of Co 
 ligny, and that d Estrades, commissioned to challenge 
 the Duke de Guise, having told Coligny that the duke 
 would disavow the injurious words that had been 
 attributed to him, and thus satisfy honor, Coligny 
 had replied to him : " This has nothing to do with 
 the matter; I have promised Madame de Longue 
 ville to fight him at the Place-Eoyale, and I can 
 not fail to do it." 2 It would not do to spoil so fine a 
 
 1 Mademoiselle, Memoires, vol. i., p. 74. 
 a Madame de Motteville, vol. i., p. 201. 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 293 
 
 tale, and Madame de Longueville would not have 
 been the sister of the conqueror of Rocroy, a heroine 
 worthy of being compared with those of Spain, who 
 saw their lovers dying at their feet in tourneys, if she 
 had not been present at the combat of Guise and 
 Coligny. "We are assured then that on the 12th of 
 December she was in a hotel of the Place-Royale, at 
 the Duchess de Rohan s, and that there, concealed 
 by a window-curtain, she witnessed the terrible en 
 counter. 
 
 Then, as at the present day, it was poetry, that is, 
 song, which placed the seal upon the popularity of 
 an event. When the event was sad, the song was a 
 complaint full of burlesque pathos, and always ridic 
 ulous. Such was that which, upon this occasion, ran 
 through every circle, and was really sung, for we 
 find it in the Collection of noted Songs of the Ar 
 senal i 1 
 
 Dry now your beauteous eyes, 
 Sweet Madame de Longueville ; 
 Dry now your beauteous eyes, 
 Coligny s getting well. 
 If death he s seem d to flee, 
 Oh blame him not therefore ; 
 For as your lover, he 
 "Would live forevermore. 
 
 After the song came the romance : Madame de 
 Longueville had hers also. A wit of the times, 
 
 It is also in Madame de Motteville, vol. i., p. 201. 
 
 25* 
 
294 CHAPTER III. 
 
 whose name is unknown to us, composed on this oc 
 casion a novel, in which, under fictitious names, and 
 mingling falsehood with truth, he relates the touch 
 ing adventure which then occupied all Paris. We 
 have discovered this novel of the middle of the 
 seventeenth century in the library of the Arsenal 
 and in the National Library. 1 Its title is : Story of 
 Agesilan and Ismenie; that is, the story of Coligny 
 and Madame de Longueville. It has the advantage 
 of being very short. Not daring to give it entire, 
 we will partially exhibit this little monument of the 
 growing celebrity of Madame de Longueville. 
 
 It must be understood that Ismenie loved Agesilan 
 in the most tender manner possible, and she loved 
 him before being married to Amilcar, the Duke de 
 Longueville, by order of her father and of her mother, 
 Antenor and Simiane, M. the Prince and Madame 
 the Princess. Ismenie has for an enemy Roxane, 
 Madame de Montbazon, jealous of her beauty, and 
 then follow two portraits of Ismenie and Roxane, 
 
 1 Library of the Arsenal, small in-4, lettered on the back, Fr. Juris 
 prudence, 19 (B). "It contains : 1st, Proposals for the reform of Ab 
 beys and Priories ; 2d, Fable of the Lion and of the Fox ; 3d, Story of 
 M. de Coligny and of Madame de Longueville." National Library, 
 Mflanyes, vol. cclxi., in-12, comprising a collection of songs, letters of 
 Madame de Courcelles, pretended letters of different ladies to Fouquet, 
 and in the midst the history of Agesilan and Ismenie. In comparing 
 the two manuscripts, we find but little difference between them. 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 47TH CENTURY. 295 
 
 which are historically exact. " Koxane was wounded 
 by the praises bestowed upon Ismenie on account of 
 her beauty, which was truly wonderful. Her hair of 
 a pale yellow, her eyes blue ; the whiteness of her 
 complexion and her form were incomparable; her 
 spirit gentle, insinuating, and even pleasing, gave 
 her the approbation of all the world. Roxane, pos 
 sessed of a beauty and disposition very different, had 
 not so many admirers of her grace as Ismenie, al 
 though many preferred her beauty. Her hair was 
 of a light brown ; her eyes black and well formed, 
 emitting a fire which penetrated the most insensible 
 hearts ; her aspect, proud and haughty, inspired fear 
 rather than love ; her spirit was cruel, full of vio 
 lence. It would not do to be at variance with her." 
 The following is one of the conversations of the 
 two lovers, not so long, fortunately, as those of As- 
 tree and of the great Cyrus, but which possesses 
 their agreeable insipidity, their melancholy senti 
 mentality : " Ismenie was walking pensively along 
 a stream which watered the woods of Mirabelle 
 (Chantilly). Suddenly she saw a man emerge from 
 among the thick trees, who, pale and dejected, came 
 and cast himself at her feet, She at once recognized 
 Agesilan, who said to her: What! my princess, will 
 you abandon me after so many promises of firmness ? 
 In refusing the match which is offered to you, will you 
 IT* 
 
296 
 
 CHAFfEE III. 
 
 not show to the world that my princess has as much 
 fidelity as beauty, and that her word is not to be 
 shaken when she has given it ? If you have still any 
 remembrance of the unhappy Agesilan, and of the 
 tenderness which you have had for him, give him 
 one more month before you consent to this marriage. 
 The term is short for an affection which will cost me 
 my life. c Agesilan, said Ismenie, c God knows, if 
 my own feelings were consulted, whether I would 
 belong to any other than to you ! For this I have 
 done more than duty demanded: I have long re 
 sisted the orders of Antenor and Simiane. I have 
 passed days and nights in weeping the loss of my 
 dear Agesilan. All that I can do is to preserve for 
 him continually my esteem and my friendship. She 
 embraced him for the last time, and entered the 
 chateau without waiting for his reply." 
 
 Agesilan, in despair, set out to rejoin the army, 
 commanded by the brother of Ismenie, Marcomir, 
 Duke d Enghien, and we are presented with a narra 
 tive of the battle of Eocroy, correct enough, except 
 in two particulars. The author does not seem to have 
 been acquainted with the bold and skilful manoeuvre 
 which decided the victory, and which we have en 
 deavored to describe. He has also given to Coligny, 
 upon this great occasion, a part which he did not 
 perform. In the novel, Agesilan takes the place of 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 297 
 
 Gassion, and commands the right wing, whilst Gas- 
 sion commands the left in place of La Ferte-Seneterre 
 and the Marshal de 1 Hopital; for it is doubtless 
 Gassion who is spoken of under the name of Hilla or 
 Hillarius, " an old colonel of horse, now 1 major-gen 
 eral, a soldier of fortune, but who had occupied every 
 post, having great courage and firmness." Marcomir 
 had confided the right wing to Agesilan, " being sure 
 of his fidelity and of his great courage." Agesilan 
 seeks death, and, according to the rules of romance, 
 he finds only glory, with many wounds, it is true, 
 which will afterwards explain his languor and his 
 weakness. Among other exploits, he has an encoun 
 ter with Alaric, king of the Goths. Marcomir, on 
 his part, performs extraordinary actions, and kills, 
 with his own hand, the chief of the hostile army. 
 As Agesilan, Coligny is here put in the place of 
 Gassion, so d Estrades, friend of Coligny, is substi 
 tuted, under the name of Theodate, for the brave 
 Sirot, who commanded the reserve, and contributed 
 so much to the success of the battle. 
 
 The novel describes faithfully the conduct of d En- 
 ghien, Marcomir, after the victory. " After having 
 rendered thanks to God for so great a victory, Mar- 
 
 1 The word now shows that the novel was coniposed before the death 
 of Gassion, who was slain before Lens in 1647. 
 
298 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 comir returned to his camp. He was slightly 
 wounded, had two horses killed under him, and did 
 in this action all that a good general and a great 
 captain can do : he took great care of the wounded, 
 and he visited them every day." He could not fail 
 to take particular care of Agesilan, his kinsman, and 
 of Theodate ; he took them with him to Lutetie, 
 where they received all the praises which their fine 
 actions merited. 
 
 In the novel, as well as in some memoirs, it is 
 Roxane, Madame de Montbazon, who invents and 
 counterfeits the two famous letters, in order to dis 
 honor and destroy Ismenie. She tries to compel her 
 lover, Florizel, the Duke de Guise, to maintain that 
 these letters are veritable ; and not being able to get 
 his consent to such an unworthy action, she asks him 
 to express himself at least with some doubt as to the 
 matter. Florizel has the weakness to please her in 
 this; his words are promptly exaggerated and en 
 venomed, and it is everywhere reported that Florizel 
 defends loudly the truth of these letters, and declares 
 himself ready to maintain it against Agesilan him 
 self, " in whatever manner he may choose." Then 
 comes the indignation of Queen Amalasonte, Anne 
 of Austria, against Ismenie, whom she believes 
 guilty ; the great wrath of Antenor and of Simiane, 
 M. the Prince and Madame the Princess, against 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 299 
 
 their daughter, and the despair of the latter, for the 
 two imaginary letters by Roxane are much stronger 
 than those which were written by Madame de Fou- 
 querolles to Maulevrier, and which were attributed 
 to Madame de Longueville. First letter : " I cannot 
 suffer you to remain any longer in the sadness into 
 which you are plunged. Your constancy has en 
 tirely gained me. Come this evening to the avenue 
 of the Sicamores, near the baths of Diane. I will 
 tell you what I wish you to do." The other letter : 
 " I believe that you are pleased with me, dear Ages- 
 ilan ; but if the walk in the avenue of the Sicamores 
 has pleased you more, the one which I now invite 
 you to take will not please you less. Come, alone, 
 at ten o clock this evening, through the garden gate ; 
 you will find Lydie, who will show you where I am. 
 Adieu." 
 
 These two rendezvous are well enough imagined 
 to explain the irritation of Ismenie, and to account 
 for the manner in which she drove Agesilan to avenge 
 her, as well for her success in procuring for him a 
 skilful second in Theodate. The duel had been deci 
 ded upon " in a council held at the house of Ismenie, 
 at which Marcomir and Agesilan were present." 
 The preparations for the encounter and the details are 
 less striking and less romantic in the tale than in the 
 history. The scene in it is faithfully related, but 
 
300 CHAPTER III. 
 
 much abridged in regard to the two principal adver 
 saries ; the intervention of the Duke d Enghien is 
 more marked. 
 
 " It was agreed that the meeting should take place 
 at two o clock in the afternoon, at the Place des 
 JSTymphes (Place-Koyale). Florizel was to come with 
 a second, a page, and a lackey ; Agesilan and Theo 
 date were to do the same ; the two carriages were to 
 meet before the house of Caliste, and the coachmen 
 were to beat each other with their whips in order to 
 pretend that it was a chance fight. Things were 
 conducted according to arrangement, and the bal 
 conies and the windows of the houses were filled with 
 ladies. Chrysante and Theodate (Bridieu and d Es- 
 trades) were the first to seize their swords. Chrysante 
 is a gentleman of merit, brave, and one of the strong 
 est men in the world. He is governor of a considera 
 ble stronghold on the frontier of Belgium. Theodate, 
 in the first place, gives him a thrust in the body ; he 
 at the same time receives one in the arm. Chry 
 sante, feeling incommoded by the loss of blood, 
 wished to make use of his strength and to engage 
 closely with Theodate ; he embraced him with both 
 arms, and pressed him with so much violence that, 
 notwithstanding his great wound, he would have 
 strangled Theodate, if the latter had not made an 
 effort to withdraw himself from his hands. It was so 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TII CENTURY. 301 
 
 great that they both fell to the ground, without a 
 victory on either side, and were separated imme 
 diately by persons of quality who arrived upon the 
 spot. In the mean time Florizel and Agesilan were 
 both engaged. Theodate thought it was time to sep 
 arate them, when he saw the poor Agesilan stretched 
 upon the ground, disarmed. Florizel leaves him in 
 order to meet Theodate, and to embrace him and 
 seek his friendship. He says to him : " I am sorry 
 for the sad condition in which you will find Agesi 
 lan. He has quarrelled with me wantonly ; I pro 
 test to you, with truth, that I have never offended 
 him. Theodate replied briefly enough to this com 
 pliment, being in haste to reach Agesilan, whom he 
 finds unconscious, by reason of the dissatisfaction 
 occasioned by his ill-luck, a dissatisfaction which, 
 in the end, carried him to his grave. At this mo 
 ment, Marcomir, and several princes and nobles of 
 the court, arrived in the Place des ISTymphes. Mar 
 comir placed Agesilan and Theodate in one of his 
 carriages, and gave them an apartment in his hotel 
 for the safety of their persons." 
 
 " Not many days before, the senate had issued a 
 decree against duels, which condemned to death all 
 those who engaged in them. Amalasonte, wishing 
 the decree to be executed according to its tenor, 
 ordered the arrest of Agesilan and Theodate as ag- 
 
 26 
 
302 CHAPTER III. 
 
 gressors, but the proceedings were less rigorous 
 against Florizel and Chrysante. Marcomir com 
 plained loudly, and the apprehensions which Amala- 
 sonte had lest the matter might produce a civil war 
 all the court having arranged themselves upon one 
 side or the other occasioned a command that the 
 affair should pass for an accidental encounter, and 
 that the king should issue letters of pardon ; which 
 was done to the satisfaction of all concerned." 
 
 Here the romance resumes its rights, and, carrying 
 Madame de Longueville to the bed of the dying 
 Coligny, places in the mouths of both of them those 
 pathetic speeches which never fail to produce an 
 effect upon readers less sensible to true art, than to 
 what is touching in situations of this kind. 
 
 " The wounds which Agesilan had received, grew 
 worse every day. The surgeons considered them 
 mortal. Theodate did not care for his own. He was 
 continually by the side of Agesilan, who, feeling his 
 strength diminishing, said to Theodate : I have one 
 request to make of you, and that is, that you will 
 compel Ismenie to come and see me for the last time, 
 and that you will be the sole witness to what I have 
 to say to her. Theodate having been assured by the 
 physicians and surgeons that Agesilan could not sur 
 vive the day, hastened to find Ismenie, and to per 
 suade her to come and say adieu to Agesilan, which 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 303 
 
 she did with extreme grief. As soon as Agesilan saw 
 her, the color returned to his face, and the emotion 
 occasioned by beholding her whom he loved dearly, 
 gave him the strength to say : c Madame, since I have 
 lost you, I have desired nothing more than to die in 
 your service. God has heard my prayers. I cannot 
 be happy so long as I cannot possess you. My pas 
 sion was too strong to remain contented in the world. 
 I render you thanks for the goodness with which you 
 permit me to tell you that I die for you, and glad 
 that I can no longer trouble your repose. And, 
 stretching out his hand to her, he said, Adieu, my 
 dear Ismenie, and immediately breathed his last. 
 After the final adieu of Agesilan which accompanied 
 his last sigh, Ismenie remained some time motionless. 
 Then suddenly she threw herself upon his body, em 
 braced him-, took his hands in hers, moistened them 
 with her tears, and, in a clear voice, said : c Must I 
 survive the most faithful and sincere lover that the 
 world ever saw ! Is this, my dear Agesilan, the 
 recompense that you should expect from the ungrate 
 ful Ismenie ? Her alone thou hast loved, and when 
 she abandoned thee, thy despair drove thee to seek 
 death upon the battle-field, where thy great courage, 
 thy reputation, and thy great actions rendered thee 
 immortal ; and after that thou comest to breathe thy 
 last before my eyes, and to tell me that thou hast 
 
304 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 never known joy since losing me, and that thou dost 
 die contented since thou canst not possess me ! .... 
 Keceive, dear and faithful friend, these tears and 
 this endless regret for thy loss, which will pierce my 
 heart a thousand times each day. Receive the atone 
 ment which I make thee for all my severity and for 
 all the pains which I have caused thee. Ah ! miser 
 able me ! what will become of me ? Where shall I 
 go ? Let me die of regret and of love. I will quit 
 thee no more ; I will remain beside thee. And, 
 embracing him, she kissed his eyes and his face with 
 transports of tenderness, sufficient to break the heart 
 of any one." 
 
 But let us bear in mind that all these tender sen 
 timents are poetical inventions of the author of the 
 novel. To render Madame de Longueville more 
 touching, she has been represented as sharing the 
 passion which she inspired. But nothing authorizes 
 us to suppose that she was in love with Coligny. 
 She loved him as one of the companions of her in 
 fancy, as one of the comrades of her brother, as a 
 gentleman of nearly her own rank, whose homage 
 she had no reason to reject, and who pleased her by 
 a persevering and devoted tenderness. She per 
 mitted him to sigh for her, and to declare himself 
 her loyal knight after the Spanish fashion, according 
 to the principles of Madame de Sable and of the 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE IVTII CENTURY. 305 
 
 precieuses of the hotel de Eambouillet, who did not 
 forbid men to serve and to adore them, but in the 
 most respectful fashion. Such were the manners of 
 this epoch. A gentleman did not pass for a well- 
 bred man if he had not a mistress, that is, a lady to 
 whom he paid particular homage, and whose colors 
 he wore at fetes and on the battle-field. There was 
 not a beauty, however virtuous, who had not lovers, 
 that is, gentlemen who sighed for her in truth and 
 .honorably. The Duchess d Aiguillon, presenting her 
 young nephew, the Duke de Richelieu, to the elder 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean, begged her to make an 
 honnete man of him ; and to this end she exhorted 
 the young man seriously to fall in love with the 
 beautiful lady. 1 Madame de Longueville suffered 
 thus the assiduous attentions of Coligny. Her co 
 quetry was flattered by them, while neither her vir 
 tue nor even her reputation were sullied. Let us 
 add that she was surrounded by the best examples. 
 The young Du Yigean, her dearest friend, resisted 
 the conqueror of Rocroy ; Mademoiselle de Brienne 
 was wholly devoted to her husband, M. de Gamache ; 
 Julie de Rambouillet did not hastily yield to the long 
 passion of Montausier, and Isabelle de Montmorency 
 herself did no more than listen to the tender proposi- 
 
 1 Madame de Motteville, vol. iv., p. 42. 
 
 26* 
 
306 CHAPTER III. 
 
 tions of Dandelot. Retz affirms that the love was all 
 on the side of Coligny, and he says that he was thus 
 informed by Conde himself; but who is not ac 
 quainted with the frivolity of Retz ? Who would 
 wish to rely on his testimony when he is alone, and in 
 relation to matters in which he has not personally 
 mingled ? In 1643, Eetz had hardly the secret of 
 his own intrigues. The well-informed Madame de 
 Motteville, who, at a later period, will not conceal 
 the fall of Madame de Longueville, may be believed 
 when she affirms that in 1643, 1 " she had still a great 
 reputation for virtue and prudence," and that " she 
 erred only in not hating adoration and praise." 
 Finally, we have a decisive testimony, that of La 
 Rochefoucauld. He was at once the friend of 
 Maulevrier and of Coligny ; he was therefore well 
 acquainted with the whole affair. Now, he who, at 
 a future day, will turn against Madame de Longue 
 ville, will reveal her weakness, will enlarge her 
 faults, will strive to blacken her character, declares 
 that, until a certain period at which we have not yet 
 arrived all those who attempted to please the sister 
 of Conde, strove in vain. 2 After Coligny, the brave 
 and presumptuous Miossens, afterwards Marshal 
 
 1 Madame do Motteville, vol. i., pp. 174-197. 
 
 3 Memoir es de La Kochefoucauld, Coll. Petitot, vol. li., p. 
 
UNPUBLISHED NOVEL OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 307 
 
 d Albret, paid very assiduous court to Madame de 
 Longueville, and he failed like the others. She was 
 too young still, and too recently drawn from the 
 habits of her pure and pious youth ; she had not yet 
 reached the age so fatal to the most virtuous inten 
 tions: her hour had not yet come. It came at a 
 later period, when Madame de Longueville had be 
 come better acquainted with the world and life, and 
 had longer breathed the air of her times ; when her 
 brother had forgotten the chaste grandeur of his first 
 loves ; when the friend who could sustain her, the 
 beautiful and noble Mademoiselle Du Vigean, was 
 no more beside her ; when her husband was at a 
 distance ; when, finally, weary of combating, and 
 more than ever carried away by wit and heroic ap 
 pearances, she met a person, still young and hand 
 some, of great bravery, who passed for a model of 
 chivalrous devotion, who could skilfully interest her 
 self-love in his ambitious projects, and seduce her by 
 the attractions of glory. La Kochefoucauld was the 
 first who touched the soul of Madame de Longue 
 ville ; he says so, and we believe him. Their con 
 nection commenced a little before or a little after the 
 embassy of Munster, their intimacy at the close of 
 1647 or at the beginning of 1648, and the fulness of 
 their love continued between 1648 and 1652. In 
 1643, Madame de Longueville was still occupied 
 
308 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 with the noble and graceful gallantry which she saw 
 everywhere in honor, which she heard celebrated at 
 the hotel de Kambouillet as well as at the hotel de 
 Conde, in the great verses of Corneille and in the tri 
 fling verses of Voiture. She delighted in exhibiting 
 the power of her charms. A thousand adorers pressed 
 around her. Coligny was perhaps nearest to her 
 heart, but had not, however, entered it. But one 
 cannot, with impunity, trifle with love. It will some 
 day cost Madame de Longueville many tears. Its 
 victim at this time was the eldest of the Chatillons, 
 who perished, in the flower of his youth, by the hand 
 of the eldest of the Guises, to avenge her whom he 
 loved. This tragic adventure, quickly spread by all 
 the echoes of the salons, by song and romance, cast 
 a gloom upon the destiny of Madame de Longue 
 ville, and gave her, at an early period, a fame at 
 once aristocratic and popular, which prepared her 
 wonderfully to play a great part in that other tragi 
 comedy, heroic and gallant, called the Fronde. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 1644 to 1649. 
 
 Campaigns of Conde in Flanders and on the Khine Congress and 
 peace of Munster Madame de Longueville at Munster Her portrait 
 by Van Hull Her return to France Her brother, the Prince de Conti 
 Sonnets of Voiture and of Benserade La Kochefoucauld Com 
 mencement of his connection with Madame de Longueville The first 
 Fronde Noble conduct of Conde Madame de Longueville at the 
 hotel de Ville Birth of Charles de Paris, Count de Saint-Paul Peace 
 of 1649. 
 
 WE have passed over the most truly beautiful 
 period of the youth of Madame de Longueville, that 
 wherein the splendor of her success was not at the 
 expense of her virtue. The time approaches in which 
 she is about to yield to the manners of her age, and 
 to the long combated wants of her heart. The love 
 which she inspired in others, she is, in turn, about to 
 feel herself, and to engage her, at the age of twenty- 
 eight or twenty-nine years, in a fatal connection, 
 which will make her forget all her duties, and turn 
 her most brilliant qualities against herself, against 
 her family, and against France. 
 
 In order to measure the fault of Madame de 
 Longueville, it is necessary to know to what gran- 
 
310 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 deui- the house of Conde had reached by its faithful 
 service of king and country. 
 
 In the history of France, there are no more glorious 
 years than the first six of the Eegency of Anne of 
 Austria and of the government of Mazarin, tranquil 
 at home after the defeat of the party of the Impor- 
 tants, triumphant upon every battle-field, from 1643 
 to 1649, from the victory of Eocroy to that of Lens, 
 connected by so many other victories, and crowned 
 by the treaty of Westphalia. It is the house of 
 Conde which occupies nearly the whole of this mem 
 orable epoch, or therein, at least, plays the most 
 conspicuous part. In the council, M. the Prince 
 seconds Mazarin, as he had done Eichelieu, and 
 shares with him the government. The intrepid 
 Breze, opening the list of the great admirals of the 
 seventeenth century, holds in check or disperses, in 
 the Mediterranean, the fleets of Spain. M. de 
 Longueville, charged with the greatest embassy of 
 the times, places in the diplomatic balance the weight 
 of his name, of his moderation, and of his magnifi 
 cence. As to the young Conde, who has not read, 
 at least in Bossuet, his campaigns in Flanders and 
 upon the Ehine ? We have shown how valuable to 
 France was the victory of Eocroy, in 1643 ; those 
 which followed were not less necessary. 
 
 We have for some time been permitted to speak of 
 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. oil 
 
 Conde as of a young hero, who owed all his success 
 to the ascendency of an irresistible courage. Let us 
 beware of making him a paladin of the middle age, 
 or a brilliant grenadier like such or such a marshal 
 of the empire, or a captain of the family of Alexan 
 der, of Caesar, and of Kapoleon. Like them, Conde 
 had doubtless a genius for war, and, as well as Alex 
 ander, he excelled especially in execution, and fear 
 lessly exposed his person ; but it seems that the 
 splendor of his bravery had concealed the grandeur 
 and originality of his conceptions, as his extreme 
 youth, at Eocroy, had caused a forgetfulness of the 
 fact that for many years he had studied war with 
 passion, and had already made three campaigns 
 under the most renowned masters. If this were the 
 proper place, and if I dared to encounter ridicule by 
 setting myself up as a military man, I would like to 
 compare the campaigns of Conde, in Flanders and 
 upon the Ehine, with those of General Bonaparte in 
 Italy. They have many things in common : the 
 youth of the two generals, 1 that of their principal 
 lieutenants, the political grandeur of the results, the 
 novelty of the manoeuvres, the same strategy, the 
 
 1 Napoleon was twenty-six years of age at the time of his first battle, 
 that of Montenotte, and thirty at the time of that of Marengo. Conde" 
 was not quite twenty-two years of age at Eocroy, and he was twenty- 
 seven at Lens. 
 
312 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 same calculations served by the same audacity, by 
 the same activity, by the same obstinacy. It is 
 degrading the art of war to measure military success 
 by the number of combatants, for we should thus 
 make Tamerlane and Gengis-Khan the two greatest 
 captains of the world. 
 
 The general of the army of Italy, like Conde, had 
 little more than twenty or twenty-five thousand men 
 drawn up in his greatest battles. 1 I can say to the 
 honor of Conde, that he always had before him the 
 best troops and the best generals of his times, among 
 others, Mercy, the first captain of Germany during 
 the seventeenth century. 2 At one time he had under 
 his command only an army composed of different 
 nations, whose jealousies, and even defections, be- 
 
 . J General Bonaparte entered Italy in 1796, with 30,000 men under 
 arms. He had at most from 15,000 to 20,000 at Montenotte ; 20,000 at 
 Castiglione ; 13,000 only at Arcola ; 16,000, at most, at Eivoli. It is true 
 that at Marengo he had 28,000 ; but, for conception and execution, who 
 would compare Marengo with Arcola and Rivoli ? These were the most 
 scientific and boldest campaigns of Italy, the most resembling those of 
 Rocroy and of Fribourg. 
 
 3 General Bonaparte had no adversaries like -Mercy. Beaulieu, ap 
 parently thinking himself too strong, had so scattered his troops, that 
 at Montenotte lie fought with but half of his army. Wurmser, at Cas 
 tiglione, committed the same error. D Alvinzy was superior to them, 
 and at Arcola and at Rivoli he yielded only to the unexpected gran 
 deur of the manoeuvres of the French general. Melas fought well at 
 Marengo, as did also General Bonaparte, but neither of them performed 
 any remarkable manoeuvre ; and this battle would have been lost but 
 for the arrival of Desaix, as Waterloo was lost because Grouchy was 
 not Desaix. 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 313 
 
 frayed his. greatest designs. At another time lie was 
 at the head of fatigued and discouraged troops, whose 
 whole strength was in himself alone. And then 
 which is, in my eyes, the most certain evidence of 
 a great man he founded an immense school: he 
 left to France many great generals formed by his 
 lessons, prepared by his hands, and who, at a great 
 distance from him and after him, gained victories. 
 To him are we, in a great measure, indebted for 
 Turenne, who, by seeing his actions at Fribourg and 
 at Nortlingen, added more and more activity and 
 audacity to his other qualities. "VVe are indebted to 
 him for Luxembourg and Conti. We are also in 
 debted to him for many others, who might perhaps 
 have equalled those already mentioned, but whose 
 bright hopes were too suddenly extinguished, Gevres, 
 Laval, La Moussaye, Chatillon. To all this add that 
 magnanimity of a high-born man, who, instead of 
 attributing the honor of success to himself alone, 
 shared it with all those who served him well, and 
 took pleasure in praising Gassion and Sirot after the 
 victory of Eocroy, Turenne after Fribourg and Nbrt- 
 lingen, and Chatillon after Lens. 1 
 
 1 I know nothing more noble than the dispatches of Conde, announ 
 cing his different victories. He says very little in them of himself, and 
 much of others. During his retirement at Chantilly, his friends urged 
 him to write his military memoirs ; he refused, saying that he would 
 
314 < HATTER IV. 
 
 Conde conquered at Kocroy by the very simple 
 inaiiteuvre which we have pointed out. 1 The prob 
 lem was, to arrive in the shortest time and with the 
 greatest force upon the point which was to decide 
 the day. It was evident that, the left wing of the 
 enemy being dispersed, but his right wing victorious 
 and threatening to crush all in its way, it was neces 
 sary, at every hazard, to arrest and destroy it. To 
 reach this in the speediest manner possible, from the 
 height of the battle-field where Conde was, the most 
 direct road was to make a passage through the Span 
 ish army, by forcing his last line, and falling after 
 wards like a thunderbolt upon the rear of his tri 
 umphing wing. If the infantry, whose overthrow 
 was sought, had been that of the Count de Fontaine, 
 
 be obliged to blame sometimes estimable generals, and to speak well of 
 himself. Never was any one less a charlatan. In this respect, Tu- 
 renne resembled Cond6. What injures somewhat in my estimation 
 the memoirs of Napoleon, is that ardent and continual self-preoccu 
 pation, which sees himself only everywhere, refers every thing to him 
 self, confesses no fault, enlarges the least actions, praises none but 
 mediocre men, depreciates eminent merit, treats Moreau and Kleber 
 as he would have done some of his marshals, and prepares for himself 
 everywhere a pedestal. But we must not forget that Napoleon was 
 writing in exile and in misfortune, and that he was reduced to defend 
 his own glory. See in Lenet, edit. Michaud, several letters of Conde" to 
 Mazarin, after Fribourg, after Lerida, after the taking of Ipres and tho 
 retaking of Furnes, especially after the battle of Lens. In giving an 
 account of this affair, the secretary of the prince had written : our vic 
 tory. Conde effaced the last word, and substituted comlat. (Unpub 
 lished part of Memoirs of Lenet, pp. 499-515.) 
 1 See chapter iii. 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF COND^. 315 
 
 it would have remained firm, checked Conde, and 
 achieved his destruction ; but he knew that this in 
 fantry was a mixture of Italians, Walloons, and Ger 
 mans: he hoped, therefore, to succeed by dint of 
 energy. For this reason he led the charge himself, 
 and performed prodigies of valor with the most se 
 vere calculation. Afterwards, when he was compli 
 mented on his courage, he replied that he had never 
 shown any except when it was necessary. It is true 
 that heroes alone have audacity at will. He con 
 ducted himself almost in the same manner during 
 the following year, 1644, in his great combats with 
 Mercy, near Fribourg. Finding it impossible to 
 separate any of the divisions of the imperial army, 
 which were protected by formidable intrenchments, 
 he attacked them himself with that French fury to 
 which every thing yields ;* at the same time he sent 
 Turenne, during the night, to a great distance, through 
 frightful gorges, as did Bonaparte in the marshes of 
 Arcola, 2 to take in flank and rear the hostile army, 
 
 1 It was at the attack of the lines of Fribourg that he threw into the 
 enemy s intrenchments his baton of command, indicating thereby his 
 resolution to conquer or perish. 
 
 8 Napoleon s manoeuvre of. quitting Verona, in order to go around 
 Caldiero, whom he could not attack in front, and to surprise Alvinzyin 
 the marshes, where valor could make up for numbers, has been, and 
 cannot be too much praised. There was prudence and audacity in it. 
 General Bonaparte, knowing that he would be lost if he did not pass 
 the bridge of Arcola, allowed the destruction of his best lieutenants, 
 
316 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 which would have been destroyed, if Mercy, warned 
 in season and confounded by such a manoeuvre, had 
 not hastily escaped. In. the second battle of Fri- 
 bourg, Conde renewed this same manoeuvre, sending 
 Turenne to a still greater distance than before, in 
 order to cut off all retreat for Mercy, whilst he at 
 tacked him in front, and to crush him in his camp or 
 force him to capitulate. The vigilant Mercy escaped 
 a second time ; but his retreat, admirable as it was, 
 resembled no less a defeat, for he lost not only the 
 honor of his arms and of the field of battle, but all of 
 his artillery and a part of his troops. 
 
 In 1645, Mercy and Conde met again. Mercy had 
 just fought with Turenne at Mariendal. This victory 
 had inflated the courage of the Imperialists, and the 
 emperor and the King of Bavaria were unwilling to 
 make peace. Conde, in again taking command of a 
 defeated army, found it, as in the preceding year, 
 composed of 5000 Weimarians, survivors of the bat 
 tle of Mariendal, 4000 Swedes, 6000 Hessians, and 
 8000 Frenchmen, which he had with him. With 
 these 23,000 he conceived the plan of the campaign 
 which was afterwards partly executed by Moreau 
 
 and barely escaped death himself. On this occasion, he showed him 
 self great by the genius which conceives and by the heroism which 
 executes ; and he showed himself the equal of the Alexanders and 
 Conde"s. 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 317 
 
 and completed by Napoleon. He resolved to risk a 
 great battle with Mercy, and after having routed him, 
 to march upon Munich and Yienna, and to dictate 
 peace to the emperor in his capital. This plan failed 
 because Conde was at the head of a combined army ; 
 because the Swedes and the Hessians refused to fol 
 low the French general to such a distance, and be 
 cause the Swedes even withdrew. Conde could not 
 expect any aid from France, which was exhausted in 
 order to send five armies into Spain, into Italy, into 
 Lorraine, into Flanders, and upon the Ehine. He 
 abandoned therefore his greatest military conception 
 with sorrow and rage, as did Hannibal when he was 
 compelled to quit Italy : it was his wish to extermi 
 nate the army of Mercy. The latter, who knew the man 
 with whom he had to deal, had taken a position quite as 
 strong as that of Fribourg a position which protected 
 him against the favorite manoeuvres of Conde to cut 
 off the enemy or surprise him at a distance in flank 
 or rear. Turenne declared that to attack an enemy 
 thus intrenched was ruinous ; and Napoleon, whom 
 no one will accuse of timidity, was of the same opin 
 ion. 1 Conde replied as a politician rather than as a 
 military man, that it was- in vain to undertake by any 
 manoeuvre to drive Mercy from a position wisely 
 
 1 Meinoires, vol. v., p. 20. 
 
 27* 
 
318 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 chosen ; that it was necessaiy, therefore, either to 
 attack him or to retrea^ and that to retreat would 
 si lake the confidence of all our allies, after the defeat 
 of Mariendal and the defection of the Swedes. France 
 was in need of a victory. Conde gained that of ISTort- 
 lingen, but he gained it, thanks to two accidents 
 upon which he had no right to count thanks also to 
 the inspiration of a great character. It must be con 
 fessed that in execution Conde was never greater. 
 He saw at once that every thing depended upon 
 Mercy s centre. He made it his own business to afr- 
 tack it. He had one horse slain under him, two 
 wounded, and twenty cuts upon his arms and clothes. 
 Marsin, who under him commanded the French cen 
 tre, was dangerously wounded, and the intrepid La 
 Moussaye was disabled. The French and the Impe 
 rialists, by turns conquerors and conquered, per 
 formed prodigies of valor. It was a frightful butch 
 ery. Mercy perished in it. In the mean time, Jean 
 de Wert, who commanded the left wing, descended 
 from the height which he occupied, crushed the right 
 wing of the French, and dispersed our reserve, not 
 withstanding the efforts of his two chiefs, Chabot and 
 Arnauld. 1 It would have been fatal to the whole 
 
 1 This is the same Arnauld from whom we have so many pretty 
 verses in the style of Voiture, and on account of whose absence Madame 
 de Kambouillet regrets that she cannot reply to Godeau. See chap. ii. 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 319 
 
 army, if, instead of amusing himself with pursuing 
 the flying and pillaging the baggage, Jean de Wert 
 had thrown himself upon the rear of our half-destroyed 
 centre, and pressed our left wing between his victo 
 rious squadrons and the still entire division of Gene 
 ral Gleen. This error, and the death of Mercy, saved 
 Conde, because he knew how to profit by them with 
 incomparable promptitude. He saw that, after hav 
 ing lost his right wing, his reserve, and a great part 
 of his centre, to try to retreat with his left wing was 
 an operation apparently prudent, but really rash, 
 before an enemy which had still great masses of in 
 fantry, much artillery, and a redoubtable cavalry ; he 
 saw that it was better to maintain the combat, and 
 that by exposing himself to peril, he might possibly 
 conquer. This rapid glance of a strong mind, which 
 seizes and embraces the only means of safety, how 
 ever perilous it may be, is the characteristic of the 
 genius of Conde. All wounded as he was, harassed 
 with fatigue, but drawing new vigor from the gran 
 deur of his resolution, he places himself at the head 
 of the left wing of Turenne, dashes, as if in the very 
 beginning of the battle, upon the right wing of the 
 enemy, plunges into its midst, and makes prisoner of 
 its commander; then, turning to the right, he throws 
 himself upon the centre of the Imperialists, rescues 
 his own, rallies it, leads it anew to the combat, and, 
 
320 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 master of the battle-field, prepares himself to meet 
 Jean de "\Yert, who, returning from his useless pur 
 suit, learning the death of Mercy 1 and the capture of 
 Gleen, amazed at the disaster produced by his ab 
 sence, dares neither to attack nor to await Conde, * 
 but gathers together his shattered army, and flies to 
 Donauwerth. Conde had, in this second combat, an 
 other horse killed under him; he also received a 
 pistol-shot, and indeed barely survived his victory. 
 It was at this time that he suffered from that severe 
 sickness, on recovery from which he found that he 
 had lost with his blood and his strength all his pas 
 sion for Mademoiselle Du Yigean. 2 
 
 Conde is one of the small number of captains who 
 have no less excelled in the art of besieging than in 
 that of combating. 3 After Eocroy, in 1643, he took 
 Thionville, one of the first fortified places of the 
 times. In 1644, he took Philipsbourg, which com 
 manded the upper Ehine. In 1646, having had the 
 wisdom to consent to serve under the Duke d Orleans, 
 in order to quiet the distrust and please the vanity 
 of this prince ; and although placed in command of 
 
 
 
 1 Allow me to repeat here that Mercy, whom the Spaniards created 
 Count de Fnentes, and Fontaine, were two French gentlemen, one of 
 Lorraine, the other of Burgundy. 
 
 8 See close of chap. ii. 
 
 8 In Italy, Napoleon never undertook a siege properly so called. 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 321 
 
 the army only at the close of the campaign, he termi 
 nated it by a memorable siege, in which he covered 
 himself with glory : he took Dunkirk on the llth of 
 October, 1 1616. 
 
 1 The Prince de Conde has left a name in the science of fortification. 
 He studied while at Bourges under the engineer Sarrazin, who rendered 
 Montrond a very difficult place to be taken. When he went to Bur 
 gundy, he paid great attention to this part of the military art. There 
 is preserved in the depot of fortifications an atlas of the strongholds of 
 Burgundy, drawn by the hand of Conde : Plan of the capital cities and 
 frontiers of the Duchy of Burgundy, J3resse, and Gex, made at Difon, 
 January 7, 1640, with this dedication : 
 
 To MY FATHEK. 
 
 SIR This work which I present belongs to you, since all that is mine 
 is yours. I have never been able to see you in the command of armies 
 without thinking of war myself; and I could not believe that my study 
 of fortifications would be agreeable to you, unless continued. If you 
 deign to think well of these efforts of my mind and hand, I desire no 
 other approbation of my labor, as I shall never have any other wish 
 than to live and die in the obedience and respect due to you fromhi^ 
 who is, sir, 
 
 Your very humble and very obedient son and servant, 
 
 LOUIS DE BOURBON. 
 
 Following this are eleven plans upon vellum of the*strongholds of 
 Burgundy, with remarks. 
 
 The great sieges which Conde undertook so successfully, particularly 
 those of Thionville and of Dunkirk, are the admiration of military men. 
 After his return to France in 1660, he was continually consulted upon all 
 projects of fortification, and his name, as well as his opinions, appear in 
 the official correspondence of the department of war, especially during 
 1664, 1670, and 1673, until 1675, when he retired from the service, and 
 left Vauban to act alone. Fontenelle, in his eulogy of Sauveur, says, 
 that it was in his frequent visits to Chantilly and in his conversations 
 with Conde, that Sauveur conceived the idea of his treatise upon forti 
 fication. 
 
322 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Accustomed to repair the errors of others, Conde 
 wont, in 1647, to take the place of Count d Harcourt, 
 who had just made a failure before Lerida. Mazarin 
 had wished, several times, to send Conde to Catalo 
 nia ; his father, M. the Prince, had always opposed 
 it, and all his friends dissuaded him from accepting 
 this command. He certainly showed great deference 
 for Mazarin, by quitting the ordinary theatre of his 
 exploits for a country where it was necessary to en 
 gage in a petty war, with an army incapable of giv 
 ing battle, and, at most, fit only to sustain itself before 
 the enemy. "When every one was making sport of 
 the Count d Harcourt, who had been unable to take 
 Lerida, Conde had the good sense and generosity to 
 defend this excellent general : he thus in advance de 
 fended himself. In fact, having arrived in his turn 
 "tefore Lerida, and receiving from France neither the 
 troops which had been promised to him, nor the mu 
 nitions and artillery, of which he was in absolute 
 need, and not having sufficient force to meet the 
 Spanish army, and not being able to think of assault 
 ing Lerida with a handful of half-dead soldiers, he 
 had the courage to raise the siege and to make a 
 good retreat, preferring the safety of the army to his 
 own reputation. This conduct, sustained by his ac 
 customed hauteur, did him the greatest honor, and 
 proved that he was master of himself and knew how 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 323 
 
 to employ by turns prudence or audacity according 
 as circumstances demanded. 
 
 Thus, at Lens in 1648, finding the Archduke Leo 
 pold in a position as formidable as that of Mercy at 
 ISTortlingen, he saw that it would be highly impru 
 dent to tempt fortune a second time ; and, knowing 
 that he had not now to deal with Mercy, he under 
 took to draw the Archduke Leopold and General 
 Beck upon more favorable ground, in a plain where 
 the principal force of the French army, the gendarm- 
 ery, commanded by Chatillon, might have a great 
 advantage. Numbers, abundance, and discipline 
 were on the side of the Spaniards ; misery and au 
 dacity on that of the French. Behind the centre of 
 the archduke were towns and hamlets, forming nat 
 ural intrenchments. His right, composed of all that 
 remained of the old national bands, rested upon the 
 city of Lens. His left wing was posted upon an em 
 inence, which could not be reached except through 
 the most narrow paths. It was necessary to ma 
 noeuvre with infinite art to induce an enemy to aban 
 don such an impregnable position. Conde com 
 manded a false retreat, which explained perfectly 
 the weakness of the French army. Beck, deceived, 
 detached the Lorraine cavalry to disturb, and, if pos 
 sible, to cut in pieces our rear guard, which was 
 promptly enough broken and thrown into confusion. 
 
324 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Cliatillon marched to their aid with his gendarmery ; 
 he drove back the Lorraine troops, and* threatened 
 them with slaughter. They could not be abandoned. 
 The archduke sent all his cavalry to their assist 
 ance. The combat began ; the whole of the hostile 
 army moved and descended into the plain. This was 
 precisely what Conde desired. The very same ma 
 noeuvre that had failed at JSTortlingen, succeeded at 
 Lens. The imperial army had still the immense dis 
 advantage of being obliged to form as it advanced, 
 while the French army had been since morning ar 
 ranged in good order at the extremity of the plain, 
 upon well-chosen ground. Conde relied especially 
 upon the gendarmery of Cliatillon ; he had recalled 
 it soon after the first engagement, and had placed it 
 in the second line to give it time to refresh ; after 
 wards, when the two contending bodies had become 
 closely engaged, he let it loose again with its in 
 trepid general, and, after being so useful at the 
 beginning of the fight, it finally decided it by over 
 throwing every thing in its way. The Spanish in 
 fantry remained ; it did not show the same obstinacy 
 as at Eocroy, but it cried for life. Old General 
 Beck conducted himself like Fontaine and Mercy : 
 he fought like a lion, was wounded and taken, and he 
 died of despair. The Archduke Leopold, after con- 
 
CAMPAIGNS OF CONDE. 325 
 
 ducting himself well, escaped into the Pays-Bas with 
 the Count de Fuensaklaigne. 
 
 The victory of Lens was as important and as useful 
 as that of Rocroy : to it is due the recommencement of 
 the negotiations of Munster and the conclusion of the 
 treaty of "Westphalia. This treaty was the result of 
 the five great campaigns of Conde in Flanders and 
 on the Rhine. Conde was there an armed negotia 
 tor, as we might say ; M. de Longueville was, at 
 Munster, a pacific negotiator. 
 
 Father Bougeant, in his estimable history of the* 
 treaty of Westphalia, 1 supposes that Mazarin sent the 
 
 1 History of the Wars and of the Negotiations which preceded the Treaty 
 of Westphalia, vol. iii., in-4. To this work we must add the Secret 
 Negotiations touching the Peace of Munster and of Osndbv,rg, or General 
 Collection of Preliminaries, Instructions, Letter s t Memoirs, concerning these 
 negotiations, from their commencement until their conclusion, in 1648, 2 vol., 
 in-fol., Hague, 1725. In vol. xxx. of the Melanges de Ckrambault, in the 
 National Library, may be found a summary of all the correspondence 
 of the French cabinet and of the embassy. We give a few extracts : 
 
 Year 1645. June 3, Mazarin to M. de Longueville, complimenting 
 him upon the interesting condition of his wife, and urging him to 
 hasten his departure for Munster. Scarcely arrived, M. de Longue 
 ville writes to Mazarin, July 2, telling him that he has reconciled 
 d Avaux and Servien. 
 
 Year 1646. June 22, Mazarin announces to M. de Longueville the 
 departure of Madame de Longueville. July 24, M. de Longueville noti 
 fies Mazarin that he is going to meet Madame de Longueville. Octo 
 ber 23, M. de Longueville thanks Mazarin for promising him the office 
 of General of the Swiss. 
 
 Year 1647. January 16, Mazarin to M. de Longueville: The king 
 sends to him a gentleman, as weil as to Madame de Longueville, an 
 nouncing the death of M. the Prince. March 15, Mazarin to M. de 
 
 28 
 
326 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Duke de Longueville to Minister, " in order to re 
 move from the court a prince capable of exciting 
 troubles in it." But, in 1645, Mazarin had no more 
 
 Longueville, informing liiin that he cannot have the office of General 
 of the Swiss, and offering him in lieu thereof the Chateau de Caen. 
 March 25, M. de Longueville to the queen, in regard to the office of Gen 
 eral of the SViss. Idem, to Mazarin on the same subject. Dissatis 
 faction of M. de Longueville | he asks for his discharge ; it is granted 
 to him. May 17, M. de Longueville thanks Mazarin for the discharge 
 which he has procured for him ; he will not leave until the proper time. 
 June 22, Mazarin complains to M. de Longueville of his last letter, in 
 which he is charged with not desiring peace ; he claims the contrary, 
 and shows his resentment of the manner in which the Spaniards have 
 *acted. "France wishes peace, and will make it glorious." July 1, M. 
 de Longueville assures his Eminence that his letter is far from bearing 
 the interpretation which he has placed upon it ; that he does not know 
 him, which compels him to desire leave to return to France. Same day, 
 d Avaux writes to Mazarin that he had no part in the letter of M. de 
 Longueville. July 13, Mazarin to M. de Longueville : he is very glad 
 that the intention of his letter is such as he claims ; he desires nothing 
 in the world more ardently than peace, and wishes that Pegnaranda (the 
 Spanish ambassador) would leave Munster, that he might have an op 
 portunity to take a trip to Paris. Same day, Mazarin testifies to 
 d Avaux the pleasure which he experiences in having an understanding 
 with his friends. Same day, important dispatch from Mazarin to Ser- 
 vien, in which he discovers all his thoughts : Treaty with Germany, or, 
 at least, a grant of a truce in the Low Countries. " If nothing was to 
 be done in Flanders and in Germany, war could be easily carried on in 
 Spain and in Italy." July 22, M. de Longueville to Mazarin : The 
 Swedes cannot be satisfied without giving them positive assurances of 
 the establishment of Lutheranism. The Protestants propose to conclude 
 without France. The departure of the Count de Trautmansdorf (im 
 perial ambassador) with liberty to retire, of which he will avail himself 
 as soon as possible. July 29, Mazarin begs M. de Longueville to defer 
 his departure. August 9, Mazarin to M. de Longueville : How to treat 
 with the Swedes. A gentleman of M. de Vandosme, carrying letters to 
 the archduke, was arrested and conducted to Nancy. The Spaniards 
 are far from peace. The King of Spain changes his manner of acting 
 with the emperor. Trautmansdorf might have concluded something 
 
CONGRESS AND PEACE OF MUNSTEK. 327 
 
 troubles to fear, and the Duke de Longueville was 
 not a man to create them : he suffered himself to be 
 guided at that time, as well as the rest of his family, 
 
 advantageous for Sweden at the expense of France. August 19, M. de 
 Longueville to Mazarin : The Neapolitans have driven off the Span 
 iards. Pegnaranda will do nothing until the close of the campaign. 
 He will take this time to visit his Eminence. August 30, Mazarin ex 
 presses to M. de Longueville some apprehensions as to the design of 
 his journey. August 30, confidential letter from Lyonne to Servien : 
 he begs him to discover the cabals that M. d Avaux has made against 
 his Eminence. Orders are given to M. de Turenne to abolish the name 
 of Weimarians. The conclusion of peace must not be deferred on ac 
 count of the absence of M. de Longueville. M. d Avaux seeks the pro 
 tection of M. the Prince and of M. the Duke d Orleans. September 6, 
 Mazarin to M. de Longueville : Good effects apparently produced by the 
 delay of his journey. September 16, M. de Longueville complains of 
 the delay of business ; he recommends to Mazarin the Marshal de La 
 Mothe (who has just been arrested). October 7, renewed solicitations 
 of M. de Longueville in behalf of the Marshal de La Mothe. October 
 15, M. de Longueville to Mazarin : He fears that the Hollanders may 
 conclude their treaty without France. The enemies have received, with 
 singular joy, the news of the death of M. de Gassion (killed at Lens). 
 October 18, Mazarin informs M. de Longueville of the promotion of seven 
 cardinals, among whom is his brother, the Cardinal de Sainte-Cecile. 
 October 29, M. de Longueville recommends the Prince de Conti for the 
 siege of Treves or of Lie ge. November 1, Mazarin informs M. de 
 Longueville that all their dispatches have fallen into the hands of the 
 Spaniards. November 8, Mazarin imparts to M. de Longueville a propo 
 sition of marriage from the emperor with Mademoiselle. (See the Me 
 moirs of Mademoiselle; also chapter i. of this work.) December 22, 
 Mazarin to M. de Longueville : The Spaniards do not desire peace. Try 
 to have it proclaimed that if peace is not established, it is Spain that has 
 prevented it. 
 
 Year 1648. January 6, M. de Longueville to Mazarin : It was the fault 
 of the Imperialists and the Spaniards alone that peace was not conclu 
 ded ; all the others desired it. January 16, M. de Longueville is not of the 
 opinion that Nancy should be given up without demolishing it. Janu 
 ary 17, Mazarin imparts to M. de Longueville a proposition of marriage 
 between his daughter, Mademoiselle de Longueville, and the Duke de 
 
328 
 
 iv. 
 
 by the policy of its chief, M. the Prince. It is much 
 easier to believe that it was the latter who gave the 
 embassy of Minister to his son-in-law. Mazarin had 
 not chosen him for his capacity, although he was 
 not deficient in it, but to aid d Avaux and Servien, 
 who stood in need of him, and to give eclat to the 
 French legation. He remained master of the nego 
 tiations, and the.Condes must have been flattered to 
 be at the head of the most important diplomatic 
 affair, having already command of the fleet in the 
 Mediterranean, and of the army upon the Ehine. 
 M. de Longueville had to pursue the great object 
 at which the French cabinet had aimed from the 
 time of Henry IY., the enfeebling of the empire to 
 
 Mantua. January 28, Confidential letter from Lyonne to Servien : 
 There is much dissatisfaction with M. d Avaux ; he would have been 
 recalled if he had not engaged M. de Longueville in his opinion. Feb 
 ruary 3, M. de Longueville announces his departure. February 23, 
 having arrived at Trie, he writes to Mazarin a letter of compliments. 
 March 23, d Avaux, being found too favorable to M. de Lorraine, and too 
 eager to make peace at any price, prepares to depart. April 27, Maza 
 rin informs Servien that he is named minister, and charged with com 
 pleting the negotiations. In the correspondence of July, frequent 
 mention is made of the troubles of the parliament. Mazarin begs Ser 
 vien to manage something in Alsace for M. de Turenne, in order to 
 secure him. August 14, Servien gives to Mazarin the reasons for not 
 pressing the treaty with Spain. August 21, dispatch of Mazarin: M. 
 the Prince has just gained a battle against the archduke. France never 
 theless wishes peace. If the Spaniards wish it, they will conclude it 
 upon the proposed conditions ; if not, it will be of no service to relax. 
 September 17, he invites Servien to urge the peace with Germany, on 
 account of the troubles. 
 
CONGRESS AND PEACE OF MUNSTER. 329 
 
 the advantage of France. With this view it was 
 that the very Christian king, the Cardinal Richelieu, 
 and the Cardinal Mazarin united with the Protestant 
 Gustavus Adolphus, drew him into the heart of Ger 
 many, him and after him his lieutenants, and sus 
 tained Protestant Holland against Catholic Spain. 
 This struggle, which, for. thirty years, was carried 
 on with so much eclat, continued for more than 
 twelve years at Osnabriick and at Munster. On the 
 one side were Austria, Spain, and Bavaria, with the 
 ecclesiastical electors of Mayence and of Cologne ; 
 on the other, the Protestant powers, Brandenburg, 
 Saxony, Hesse, with their allies, Holland, Sweden, 
 and France. The Protestant party wished to obtain 
 the greatest concessions, and the Catholic party to 
 make the fewest possible. They advanced and re 
 ceded according to the vicissitudes of war. Riche 
 lieu had designated the man, who had all his confi 
 dence, Mazarin and the Count d Avaux, of the 
 powerful family of Messne, to represent France at 
 Munster. When Mazarin succeeded Richelieu in the 
 ministry, he named in his own place Count Abel 
 Servien, uncle of the skilful and judicious Lyonne, 
 who was to him what he had himself been to Riche 
 lieu. He retained d Avaux, who had wit and pene 
 tration, uprightness and nobleness, with a degree of 
 piety which made him acceptable to the Catholic 
 28* 
 
330 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 powers, but which carried him a little too far to make 
 him accommodating with them, and at the same time 
 more anxious for the advantage of the Church than 
 policy demanded. Servien alone was the depository 
 of the thoughts of Mazarin, and Mazarin, like his pred 
 ecessor, knew but one interest, that of the greatness 
 of France. He was desirous of obtaining from the 
 empire the whole of Alsace, with some strongholds 
 upon the Rhine, in order to complete the legitimate 
 development of France in that quarter. He had still 
 another ambition, which Richelieu had bequeathed to 
 him, and which he bequeathed to Lyonne : it was that 
 of tearing from Spain the trade of Catalonia, where 
 Richelieu and himself had cunningly carried the war 
 against the Low Countries, without which France 
 has really no northern frontier, and is exposed, after 
 an unfortunate battle, to the passage of a hostile army 
 even to the very walls of Paris. Such were the 
 thoughts which occupied the mind of Mazarin, and 
 which he pursued at once, by means of negotiations 
 and by arms, with the mildness and constancy which 
 characterized this great statesman. 
 
 M. de Longueville arrived at Munster on the 30th 
 of June, 1645, at nearly the same time that his 
 brother-in-law, the Duke d Enghien, was going to 
 take command of the army of the Rhine, in the place 
 of Turenne, who had just suffered a very grave defeat 
 
CONGRESS AND PEACE OF MUNSTKK. 331 
 
 at Mariendal. The victory of Nortlingen, of the 5th 
 of August, 1645, gave the greatest strength to M. de 
 Longueville ; and the Duke of Bavaria, the second 
 Catholic power of Germany, who had broken off ne 
 gotiations after the battle of Mariendal, recommenced 
 them eagerly after that of Nortlingen. The cession 
 of Alsace was then almost gained ; but victorious 
 Mazarin could with difficulty renounce the hope 
 which he had long entertained of acquiring the Low 
 Countries from Spain in exchange for Catalonia. 
 Therein resided all the difficulty of the negotiations, 
 the knot which no skill could loosen, and which the 
 sword alone could cut. It was reserved for Louis 
 XI Y., at the close of the seventeenth century, after 
 "having lost the three statesmen who, for a long time, 
 formed his strength and his glory, Mazarin, Lyonne, 
 and Colbert ; it was reserved for him to abandon the 
 schemes of his predecessors, and, when it was pro 
 posed that he should receive the Low Countries in 
 return for his rights over Spain, to reject this favor of 
 fortune, which Mazarin and Richelieu would have 
 embraced with transports of joy ; this he did for the 
 sake of family interest, staking his own crown for the 
 sake of placing one upon the head of his grandson, 
 and jeopardizing the safety of France without giving 
 to it, even for a quarter of a century, the alliance of 
 Spain. "We may remark in passing, that this in- 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 credible resolution, poorly covered with an appear 
 ance of grandeur, and the revocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes, are the two great personal inspirations of Louis 
 XIY. : they determine his policy, internal and exter 
 nal, compared with that of Mazarin, of Richelieu, 
 and of Henri IY. It is impossible to recount all the 
 efforts made by Mazarin, in 1648, to induce Spain to 
 yield to him the Low Countries. He offered, with 
 all Catalonia, the young Louis XIY. for the infanta 
 Maria-Therissa. At the same time he sent d Es- 
 trades, with whom we have before become ac 
 quainted, 1 into Holland, in order to promote the 
 arrangement which he so ardently desired : he went 
 even so far as to propose Antwerp to the commerce 
 of Holland. It was a powerful temptation ; but 
 Holland resisted it ; she was weary of a war which 
 must thus be prolonged ; and besides, she was begin 
 ning to be less afraid of Spain, and was hoping a 
 great advantage by acquiring a conquering neighbor 
 instead of a feeble one. Spain, on her side, saw our 
 horizon darkened with new troubles, and, full of 
 hope, she broke off negotiations, made a separate 
 treaty with Holland, and persuaded the emperor to 
 unite with her in a last and powerful effort. One 
 man alone was able to save France, menaced as it 
 
 1 See preceding chapter. 
 
CONGRESS AND PEACE OF MUNSTEK. 333 
 
 was in 1643. This man was the conqueror of Ko- 
 croy. It was then that Conde, who was well ac 
 quainted with the position of affairs, engaged, upon 
 the plains of Lens, on the 20th of August, 1648, in 
 the memorable battle which we have described, in 
 which he was as prudent as ever Turenne had been, 
 and as bold as his own genius and circumstances 
 permitted. From this moment negotiations were 
 conducted with promptness. On the 24th of Octo 
 ber, 1648, was signed, at Minister, the Treaty of 
 "Westphalia, which gave peace to Germany for a 
 century, which there strengthened religious liberty, 
 and which acknowledged all the conquests of France 
 over the empire. 1 
 
 Thanks to this treaty, Mazarin had now Spain alone 
 in view, and he hoped soon to bring it to that point 
 which could give to France a frontier on the north 
 similar to that which it had just acquired on the 
 south of Germany. He dreamed of obtaining, at the 
 close of a few more fortunate campaigns, a treaty 
 still more favorable than that of the Pyrenees, in 
 1660. He had in his hands the conqueror of Lens, 
 
 1 The Treaty of Munster secured to France the sovereignty of the 
 three bishoprics of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, of which it had been for a 
 Jong time possessed ; the sovereignty of Pignerol, which gave it the 
 entry of Italy ; the sovereignty of all Alsace, upper and lower, with that 
 of Brissac and of Landau ; in short, the right of garrison in the fortress 
 of Philipsbourg. 
 
33J: CHAPTER IV. 
 
 
 
 whom lie hoped to launch upon the Low Countries ; 
 it was in his power to send into Spain and into Italy, 
 generals still superior to d Harcourt and to Schom- 
 berg ; he hoped to maintain or re-enkindle the insur 
 rection of Naples : a magnificent future was before 
 France. Who deprived her of this future? Who 
 divided and exhausted her strength ? Who made 
 her, with a suicidal hand, shed her own best blood ? 
 Who sowed discord among the most illustrious of her 
 captains ? Who arrested Conde in his course, at the 
 age of twenty-seven years, when he might yet have 
 added so many victories to all those of his youth, 
 when he might have planted the standard of France 
 in Brussels or in Madrid ? 
 
 The Fronde it was that committed the inexpiable 
 crime of having stopped the rise of Conde and of 
 French grandeur. And, in return, did it increase 
 and develop our old national franchises ? Far from 
 that : by an inevitable reaction, it disgusted France, 
 for a long time, with an anarchical liberty, incom 
 patible with public order, with the force of the 
 government and of the nation; it ^took away from 
 royalty every species of counterpoise ; it produced 
 the despotism, at first intelligent and useful, after 
 wards improvident and grievous, of Louis XIV. 
 
 And now, what gave birth to the Fronde, or what 
 sustained it ? What raised up the old party of the 
 
CONGRESS AND PEACE OF MUNSTER. 335 
 
 Importants, stifled, it would seem, under the laurels 
 of Rocroy ? What separated the princes of the blood 
 from the crown ? What turned against the throne 
 that illustrious house of Conde, which, until then, had 
 been its buckler and its sword ? There were doubt 
 less many general causes for all this ; but it is im 
 possible for us to conceal one, private, it is true, but 
 which exercised a powerful and deplorable influence 
 the unexpected love of Madame de Longueville 
 for one of the chiefs of the Importants, who had be 
 come one of the chiefs of the Fronde. Yes I say it 
 with regret it was Madame de Longueville, who, 
 joining the party of the malcontents, attracted thereto, 
 at first, a part of her family, then her whole family, 
 and thus precipitated it from the pinnacle of honor 
 and glory to which so many services had elevated it. 
 
 Let us narrate, as rapidly as possible, what we 
 know of Madame de Longueville, from the moment 
 that we left her until the commencement of the year 
 1648. 
 
 No authentic documents, printed or in manuscript, 
 authorize us to suppose that before the close of the 
 year 1647, Madame de Longueville had ever passed 
 the limits of fashionable gallantry. On the 4th of 
 February, 1644-, soon after the adventure of the let 
 ters, and of the tragic quarrel which followed it, she 
 gave birth to a daughter, who received the name of 
 
336 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 her mother and of her brother, Charlotte Louise, 
 Mademoiselle de Dunois, and who died on the 30th 
 of April, 1 1615. A year after, the 12th of January, 
 1646, she had a son, Charles d Orleaiis, Count de 
 Dunois, who was expected to succeed to the titles of 
 his father, but who, ill-favored by nature, attempted, 
 without success, various careers, and finally buried 
 himself in the Church, at the close of the century, 
 under the name of tlje Abbe d Orleans. In 1647, 
 she gave birth to a second daughter, Marie Gabrielle, 
 
 i Gazette of May 6, 1645. Died, April 80, about 2 o clock in the 
 morning, at the hotel de Longueville, the Countess de Dunois, daugh 
 ter, by the second marriage, of the Duke de Longueville, aged fourteen 
 months. All the court having testified much regret at the death of this 
 young princess, whose body, having been embalmed and placed in a 
 lead coffin, was carried, on the second of this month (of May), to the 
 great convent of the Carmelites, where the Duchess de Longueville, 
 her mother, wished it to be interred near the tomb of the Mother Made 
 leine de Saint-Joseph ; the pages and valets of the Duke and Duchess 
 de Longueville, each with a flambeau of white wax, surrounding the 
 hearse, followed by great numbers of others. It was presented at the 
 door of the church, laid out upon white serge, with two breadths of 
 white satin, charged with the scutcheons of Bourbon and Longueville, 
 by the curate of Saint-Germain-l Auxerrois to the Bishop d Utique, 
 coadjutor of Montauban, assisted by several ecclesiastics and fathers of 
 the Oratoire de Saint-Magloire, who received it in the name of this mon 
 astery ; and, having placed it under a canopy of silver-cloth ornamented 
 with the same armorial bearings, covered with a pall of the same stuff 
 bordered with ermine, nnd with a ducal crown of gold covered with a 
 veil of gauze, after the usual benedictions and incensing, the nuns, to 
 the number of sixty, came in a procession to the door of the monastery 
 to receive the body, which was carried to the grave made in the clois 
 ter, and buried by the same bishop, with the ceremonies of the order 
 of the Carmelites, whose garb this little princess wore. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE AT MUKSTEK. 337 
 
 who died in 1650. "We shall presently speak of the 
 last son, who was born during the Fronde. 
 
 Madame de Longueville was twenty-five years of 
 age at the time of the duel between Coligny and 
 Guise, in 1644. Each year only added to her 
 charms. The glory of her brother fell upon her, and 
 she responded to it somewhat by her own success at 
 court and in the salons. She acquired more and 
 more the manners of the times. Coquetry and wit 
 formed all her occupation. Her delicate situation 
 not permitting her to accompany M. de Longueville 
 to Munster, in June, 1645, she remained in Paris ; 
 she enjoyed it very much, and, whether her heart 
 had already been touched, or whether it was still en 
 tirely free, it is clear that she was not very glad, after 
 her confinement, in 1646, to join, under the sky of 
 "Westphalia, a husband who was not, as Retz says, the 
 most agreeable man to her in the world. 1 Imagine, 
 in fact, this spoiled child of the hotel de Rambouillet 
 leaving Corneille and Yoiture, all the elegances and 
 refinements of life, to go to Munster, to listen to the 
 German or Latin conversations of foreign diploma 
 tists. It was to her a double exile, for her country 
 was not only France, it was Paris, it was the court, 
 it was the hotel de Conde, Chantilly. the Place- 
 
 * Mimoires, vol. i., p. 182, 
 
 29 
 
338 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Royale, the Rue Saint-Thomas du Louvre. It was, 
 however, necessary to obey, and to set off with her 
 step-daughter, Mademoiselle de Longueville, who was 
 already more than twenty years of age. In order to 
 have something of Paris, she took with her several 
 men of letters, and among others, Claude Joly, uncle 
 of Guy Joly, author of the Memoires, canon of Notre- 
 Dame, who remained all his life attached to the 
 Condes, and who made himself known by different 
 works full of learning and of merit ;* also the acade 
 mician and oratorian Esprit, one of the frequenters 
 of the hotel de Rambouillet, 2 who had just been 
 embroiled with the Chancellor Seguier, for having 
 favored the marriage of his daughter, the Marchioness 
 de Coislin, with the son of Madame de Sable, the 
 handsome and brave Marquis de Laval, who was 
 killed some time after, by the side of Conde, at the 
 siege of Dunkirk. A little before her departure for 
 Munster, Esprit had introduced to Madame de 
 Longueville one of the old favorite poets of Riche- 
 
 1 Weshall.lirait ourselves to citing the following : Histoirede La prison 
 et de la liberte deM.le Prince, lQ51.ecucil des Maximes veritable* pour 
 r Institution, du Roi centre la pernicieuse politique du Cardinal Maza- 
 rin, 1652, burned by the hand of the executioner. Statuts et Regle- 
 ments des petite icoles de grammaire de la ville de Paris^ 1672. TraVe 
 Hstorique des Ecoles Episcopates, 1678. Voyage fait a Munster en We&t- 
 pnalie et autres lieux 00MMU, 1670. 
 
 a See chapter ii. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE AT MUNSTER. 339 
 
 lieu, Bois-Robert, who had continued to be dazzled 
 with the new eclat of her whom he had formerly ad 
 mired amid the fetes of Ruel. It was in the follow 
 ing terms that Bois-Robert relates to Esprit his visit, 
 and describes to him Madame de Longueville. The 
 verses are mediocre, but we must be satisfied, for 
 the} hold the place of an infinite number of other 
 verses, which we might with propriety quote, in re 
 gard to the same person and the same epoch, and 
 which are still worse : l 
 
 Almost conceal d beneath the crystal wave, 
 
 She raised her naked arms her brow to lave. 
 
 My eyes the living marble haply spied; 
 
 To test its warmth my glowing bosom sigh d. 
 
 The sprightly zephyrs in a merry mood 
 
 Her tresses bore along the silvery flood; 
 
 They kiss d her neck, they kiss d her cheeks, whose hues 
 
 Gay Nature when she paints but seldom woos 
 
 A neck and cheeks that verily might claim 
 
 To put the fairest flowers of Spring to shame. 
 
 With fingers, rosy as Aurora plies, 
 
 The moisture dashing from her fretted eyes, 
 
 She now reveal d, as ne er reveal d before, 
 
 Those two resplendent suns, which to adore 
 
 I dropp d my eyes, because my feeble sight 
 
 Could not endure such dazzling floods of light ; 
 
 And in one living form I saw combined 
 
 All ever seen of beauty most refined : 
 
 1 Les Epistres en vers et autres xuvres poetiques de M. de Bois-Robert 
 Meid, Conseiller cT Estat ordinaire, able de Chdtillon-sur- Seine, Paris, 
 1659, in-8, p. 11 : To Monsieur Esprit: he entertains Mm *vith the beau 
 ties of Madam* theDuchessde Lonqueville, and with the favor able reception 
 which he received from her on his departure. 
 
34:0 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 But how her coral lips shall I extol? 
 Oh how express the rapture of my soul, 
 "When to the charms which bade ,me most rejoice, 
 She added too the music of her voice ? etc. 
 
 Madame de Longueville left Paris on the 20th of 
 June, 1646, accompanied by her step-daughter, and 
 with a numerous escort under the command of Mon- 
 tigny, lieutenant of the guards of M. de Longueville. 
 The whole journey from Paris to Munster was a con 
 tinual ovation. Her course may be followed day by 
 day, and from city to city, thanks to the detailed 
 narrative of Claude Joly. Belgians, Hollanders, 
 Spaniards, Imperialists, and every one strove to show 
 their gallantry to the beautiful ambassadress. Gover 
 nors went out to meet her at the heads of their garri 
 sons. The keys of the cities through which she passed 
 were offered to her. She had continual escorts of 
 cavalry. The Duke de Longueville went as far as 
 Wesel to meet her. Turenne, who then commanded 
 upon the Ehine, exhibited to her his army drawn up in 
 order of battle. Was it then that the great captain, 
 well known to be sensible to beauty, received the 
 impression which was renewed at Stenay in 1650, 
 and which, prudently preserved by Madame de 
 Longueville, always formed between them a tender 
 and intimate connection? 1 
 
 1 Letters and Memoires of M. de Turenne, by Grimoard, in-fol., 1782, 
 vol. i., 1646, July 20 : " My dear Sister I wrote to you from the vicin- 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE AT MUNSTEE. 341 
 
 On the 22d of July she made a triumphal entry 
 into Munster. Holland was too near to her not to 
 tempt her curiosity. She took a walk thither, if we 
 may thus speak. 1 During all the autumn of 1646 
 and the winter of 1647, she was truly the queen of 
 the congress of Munster. Her graces made their 
 impression upon diplomatists as well as upon warri 
 ors. She connected herself particularly, in the 
 French embassy, with Claude de Mesmes, Count 
 d Avaux, of whom we have already spoken, and 
 who was the friend and correspondent of Yoiture, of 
 Madame de Sable, and of Madame de Rambouillet. 
 We have before us some manuscript letters of 
 d Avaux to Yoiture : they are very agreeable, but 
 not very natural ; and, amid Latin quotations, then 
 very fashionable among people who prided them 
 selves upon their erudition, they show us what an 
 impression was made by Madame de Longueville 
 upon the dean of our diplomatic corps. She did not 
 appear very melancholy to d Avaux ; but the rival 
 
 ity of Cologne, four or five days since, and yesterday passed the Ehine 
 to Wesel. Madame de Longueville arrived the same day, aud intends 
 visiting the army to-day. From this place we shall travel with her a 
 day or two. I confess to you that nothing in the world is more aston 
 ishing. M. de Longueville has come to meet her at Wesel. She is not 
 at all changed, nor is Mademoiselle de Longueville. ..." 
 
 1 From the 21st of August to the 12th of September. See the Voyage 
 of Claude Joly. 
 
 29* 
 
342 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 of Servien was perhaps better fitted to discover cabi 
 net intrigues than to read the heart of a woman. 
 
 " It is to 1 Madame de Montausier and to Madame 
 the Marchioness de Sable that I am indebted for the 
 favors which I have received from Madame de 
 Longueville. . . . You say that commerce is dan 
 gerous with a person so well made, as if the great 
 disproportion and the great distance between those 
 persons and such as myself did not shelter me. You 
 know that the eloquence of Balzac makes no impres 
 sion upon the mind of a peasant. No, no, I am not 
 afraid. It would be strange enough if in a peaceful 
 assembly I had not sufficient public faith for my 
 preservation, and if, with the passports of the empe 
 ror and of the king of Spain, Munster should not be 
 a safe place for me. ... I look however, I do not 
 pluck out my eyes. I see beauty greater than I have 
 ever seen before ; I see all of what is graceful and 
 charming that can be united, and a something which, 
 it seems to me, can nowhere else be found, with so 
 much majesty : 
 
 Video igne micantes, 
 
 Sideribus similes oculos, video oscula, sed quse 
 Est vidisse satis. 
 
 I admire with you that goodness, that generosity, and 
 those amiable qualities which we shall always vie in 
 
 1 Library of the Arsenal, Manuscripts of Conrart, in-4, vol. x. 
 
MADAME, DE LONGUEVILLE AT MUNSTER. 343 
 
 praising, but which we can never praise enough. 
 The correctness of that mind, its strength and its ex 
 tent, astonish me also, and sometimes displease me 
 with myself ; for there is in it so much that is extra 
 ordinary and above the age and the sex. Suppose 
 that I was made of stuff as combustible as you, 1 who 
 still complain of the trials of youth, how small a spark 
 would set me in a blaze ! A precieuse^ who has trav 
 elled two hundred leagues to join an old husband, 
 who has quitted the court for "Westphalia, who is 
 here in continual gayety, who was lately delighted 
 to see a comedy among the Jesuits (truly, however, 
 in good Latin), who gives constrained audiences, who 
 converses pleasantly with M. Salvius, M. Yulteius, 
 and M. Lampadius, 2 who is not frightened if a big 
 Hollander kisses her twice during his regular daily 
 visits, who receives agreeably the civility of another 
 ambassador counselling him to learn German for his 
 recreation, who with all this preserves her embon 
 point and pleasant countenance. . . ." 
 
 " .... I must indeed revenge myself a little now. 
 Some complaints are made here of your taciturnity ; 
 but they are uttered by persons of no very great con- 
 
 1 D Avaux, born in 1595, was fifty-two years old in 1647. 
 
 2 Jean Adler Salvius, one of the Swedish plenipotentiaries ; Jean 
 Vulteius, one of the envoys of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel ; Jacques 
 Lampadius, envoy of the Duke de Luneburg Grubenhagen. See 
 Father Bougeant. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 sequence: by no one in fact but Madame de Longue- 
 ville, and she is hardly worth speaking of. She has 
 paid you some very great compliments; her friends 
 have received orders to solicit your remembrance ; 
 she has requested them several times to let her lose 
 nothing in the friendship which you promised her ; 
 in short, she has sent you word that she was not 
 proof against such continued indifference, and yet 
 she receives no satisfaction. This is perhaps, as you 
 say, because commerce is dangerous with her, and 
 you yourself take the advice which you give me ; 
 but the poor princess cannot be consoled. ... Al 
 though you were a perfect philosopher, and although 
 you had lost sentiment and life, you should at least 
 speak when Madame de Longueville looks at you, 
 even as did the statue of Memnon when it was illu 
 mined by the rays of the sun. If you continue, I 
 doubt not that you will be set down as a mute. Give 
 your orders, if you please. All that I could do for 
 you was to answer your letter to M. the Duke d En- 
 ghien. 1 Madame, his sister, read it with great pleas 
 ure ; and, M. Esprit entering the room a quarter of 
 an hour afterwards, she was very glad to have an- 
 
 1 In default of the subject and of the date, choice may be made 
 ctween the different letters written by Voiture to the Duke d Enghien 
 about this period, and which will be found in the works of Voiture vol 
 ii., of the edition of 1745. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE AT MUNSTEK. 34:5 
 
 other pretext for seeing it again, and left her seat to 
 hear it read once more. This is not all : she requested 
 me to send it to her the next day, with the promise 
 that she would take but a single copy to place among 
 her papers. I will not tell you how much she thinks 
 of it; but will content myself with simply confessing, 
 that it is one of the most delightful things in the 
 world, to see this mouth filled with your praises, and 
 that your name is nowhere more magnificently enter 
 tained. . . ." 
 
 Voiture is not in arrears with his ingenious cor 
 respondent on the account of Madame de Longueville : 
 
 " .... I am very impatient to witness the return 
 of Madame de Longueville after the conclusion of a 
 gooS peace. What you say to me of this princess is 
 as beautiful as she is herself, and I shall keep it for 
 her to look at some day. . . . Tell the truth, my lord : 
 do you think it is possible to find, I do not mean in a 
 single person, but in every thing that is beautiful and 
 lovely throughout the world do you think it is pos 
 sible to find so much wit, grace, and charm as there 
 is in this princess ? Be on your guard. She writes 
 to us wonderful things concerning you, and of the 
 friendship that exists between you. Commerce is 
 dangerous with her. I assure you besides, that she 
 is as good as she is beautiful, and that there is no 
 soul in the world more lofty or better than hers. . . ." 
 
34:6 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A little while after, January 9, 1647, he says : 
 " . . . . Respect has hitherto prevented me from 
 writing to Madame de Longueville ; but you make 
 me much more afraid of her by representing her to 
 me as being so serious and so occupied with politics. 
 We take great pleasure in imagining her entertain 
 ing M. Lampadius (he is said to be dressed ordina 
 rily in violet satin), M. Yulteius, and M. Salvius, 
 and especially that big Hollander. 
 
 Dulcia barbare 
 Lsedentem oscula quae Venus 
 Quinta parte sui nectaris imbuit. 
 
 " His advice to her to study German for her amuse 
 ment, has been a subject of great mirth for Madame 
 de Sable and Madame de Montausier. . . . 31 
 
 Among the monuments of the abode of Madame 
 de Longueville at Munster, we must place the por 
 trait which was made of her by Anselme Yan Hull, 
 and which was engraved with those of M. de Longue 
 ville, of d Avaux, and of Servien, in the collection of 
 portraits of all the princes and diplomatists assem 
 bled at Munster. 2 It is a bust. Even in the engra 
 ving, mediocre as it is, we perceive the charming 
 softness of the eyes. A mass of blonde hair sur- 
 
 i Voiture, vol. i., pp. 368, 369, 871, 374. 
 
 3 In-folio, Rotterdam, 1697. This portrait has been reduced and en 
 graved anew by Odieuvre. 
 
MADAME DE LONGUKVILLE AT MUNSTEK. 347 
 
 rounds her face. 1 Her bosom, partly exposed, ap 
 pears in its modest beauty. A small collar of pearls 
 adorns a fresh and delicate neck. The following 
 lines, written perhaps by d Avaux or Yoiture, are 
 placed beneath the portrait : 
 
 These heroes gather d in Westphalia, 
 
 From France, the North, from Spain, Italia, 
 
 Finding so many charms in me, 
 
 Fancy, as my face they see, 
 
 That I the living form must be 
 
 Of Peace and Concord, hither sent, 
 
 War s dire misfortunes to prevent. 
 
 In the mean time, all the circles of Paris mourned 
 the absence of Madame de Longueville. Godeau 
 did not cease to urge her return in the name of the 
 hotel de Kambouillet : 
 
 " Is it not better, madame," wrote he to her, " that 
 you should return to the hotel de Longueville, where 
 you are still more powerful than at Munster ? Every 
 one is wishing it this winter. My lord, your brother, 
 has returned covered with palms ; come back your 
 self crowned with the myrtles of peace, for it seems to 
 me that it is not enough for you to carry olive 
 branches alone. I dare not explain myself farther, 
 lest I should be guilty of gallantry. This I leave to 
 the Julies and to the Chapelains, etc." 2 
 
 1 Madame de Longueville seems in this somewhat fatigued. She 
 was at this time in a delicate situation. 
 9 Villefore, part 1st, p. 75. 
 
348 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 She had enjoyed sufficiently her brilliant exile, 
 but, with her habitual politeness and sweetness, she 
 dissembled her weariness. In the winter of 1647, 
 she had two reasons for returning to France. Her 
 father, M. the Prince, died "at the close of December, 
 1646 : this was an immense loss to his family and to 
 France, and its consequences were soon keenly felt. 
 In addition to this, Madame de Longueville had, for 
 the third time, found herself enceinte at Munster. 
 Her mother was, for this reason, anxious to have her 
 at home ; and M. de Longueville was constrained to 
 permit his wife to take the road to Paris. 
 
 Her return to France first to Chantilly, then to 
 Paris in the month of May, 1647, was a very differ 
 ent triumph from that which characterized her jour 
 ney upon the Rhine, and into Holland, and her abode 
 at Munster. She found the crowd of her adorers 
 more numerous and more eager than ever ; and in 
 the first rank was her brother, the Prince de Conti, 
 who, fresh from college, was taking his first lessons 
 in the world. Let us say a word in regard to this 
 new personage, who now appears for the first time, 
 and who will play a very conspicuous part in the life 
 of Madame de Longueville. 
 
 Armand de Bourbon, Prince de Conti, who was 
 born in 1629, was eighteen years of age in 1647. 
 He had a good mind, and not an unpleasant face ; 
 
RETUEN OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 349 
 
 but a slight deformity and a certain feebleness of 
 body, rendering him unfit for the army, he was early 
 destined for the Church. He had studied among the 
 Jesuits at the college of Clermont, with Moliere, and 
 M. the Prince, before his death, had obtained for him 
 the richest benefices, 1 and demanded a cardinal s hat. 
 While waiting for this hat, Armand de Bourbon was 
 living at the hotel de Conde, partly an ecclesiastic, 
 partly a man of the world, all occupied with wit, and 
 greedy of every species of success. The glory of his 
 brother filled him with emulation, and he dreamed 
 himself of warlike exploits. When his sister re 
 turned 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 than as a 
 brother. 2 He followed her blindly in all her adven 
 tures, in which he exhibited as much courage as 
 lightness. When he had made his peace with the 
 court thanks to his marriage with a niece of Maza- 
 
 1 There are three very good portraits in-fol. by Daret, by Eousselet, 
 and by M. de Lasne, all of this year, 1647. In all of them, Armand de 
 Bourbon has a fine face, and already shows the marks of some high ec 
 clesiastical dignitary. Daret supports his medallion by little angels, 
 who are playing with the hat of the future cardinal a charming compo 
 sition, after the design of Lesueur. In Eousselet, Fame bears the me 
 dallion of the young prince, Eeligion presents him with a mitre, War 
 carries a suit of armor, Politics a crown, and Philosophy the sun of in 
 telligence and the mysterious serpent. This was truly the image of the 
 uncertain destiny of the Prince de Conti. 
 
 3 Madame de Motteville, vol. ii., p. 17. 
 
 30 
 
350 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 rin, the beautiful and virtuous Anne-Marie Marti- 
 nozzi he obtained the command-in-chief of the army 
 of Catalonia, in which capacity he acquitted himself 
 with great honor. He was much less successful in 
 Italy. On the whole, he was far from injuring his 
 name, and he gave to France, in the person of his 
 young son, a true warrior, one of the best pupils of 
 Conde, one of the last eminent generals of the seven 
 teenth century. Constrained, through ill-health, .to 
 betake himself again to religion, the Prince de Conti 
 finished, where he had begun, with theology. He 
 composed several meritorious and learned works on 
 various religious subjects. 1 In 1647, he was entirely 
 devoted to vanity and pleasures. He adored his 
 sister, and she exercised over him a somewhat ri 
 diculous empire, which continued during several 
 years. 
 
 The court and Paris were then occupied with fes 
 tivals and enjoyments, which all were eager to share 
 with Madame de Longueville. To please the queen, 
 Mazarin multiplied the balls and the operas. At a 
 great expense he sent to Italy for artists, singers, 
 male and female, who represented an opera of Or- 
 
 * Les revoirs des grands, par Monseigneur le Prince de Conti, avec son 
 Testament, Paris, 1667. TraiUde laComedie et des Spectacles selon la tra 
 dition de VEglise, \Wl.-Lettres du Prince de Conti, ou Vaccord du lilr* 
 arbitre avec la, grace de Jesus-Christ, Cologne, 1689. 
 
RETURN OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 351 
 
 plieiis, the machinery and decorations of which are 
 said to have cost more than 400,000 livres. The 
 queen delighted in these spectacles. France also, as 
 if touched with its own grandeur, took pleasure in 
 the magnificence of its government, and seconded it 
 by redoubling its own luxury and elegance. The 
 pleasures of wit occupied the first rank. The hotel 
 de Rambouillet, near its decline, was shedding its 
 last rays. Madame de Longueville reigned there as 
 well as in all the circles of Paris ; and, it must be 
 confessed, with her good qualities she had also the 
 defects of the best precieuses. The following is the 
 picture which Madame de Motteville has traced 1 of 
 her person, of the turn of her mind, of her occupa 
 tions, of her credit, and of that^of the whole house of 
 Conde, at this period, which may be considered as 
 the most brilliant of her life : " This princess, who, 
 during her absence, reigned in her family, and whose 
 approbation was sought as if she were a true sover 
 eign, did not fail, on her return to Paris, to appear in 
 greater splendor than when she left it. The friend 
 ship entertained for her by the prince, her brother, 
 authorizing her actions and her manners, the great 
 ness of her beauty and of her mind increased so much 
 the cabal of her family, that she was not long at 
 
 1 Memoiree, vol. ii., pp. 14-20. 
 
352 CHAFPER IV. 
 
 court without almost entirely engrossing it. She be 
 came the object of all desires : her clique was the 
 centre of all intrigues, and those whom she loved 
 became also the favorites of fortune. . . . Her intelli 
 gence, her wit, and the high opinion entertained for 
 her discernment, won for her the admiration of all 
 good people, who were persuaded that her esteem 
 alone was enough to give them reputation. If, in 
 this way, she governed souls, she was not less suc 
 cessful by means of her beauty ; for, although she 
 had suffered with the small-pox since the Regency, 
 and although she had lost somewhat of the perfection 
 of her complexion, the splendor of her charms exerted 
 a powerful influence upon those who saw her ; and 
 she possessed especially, in the highest degree, what, 
 in the Spanish language, is expressed by those words, 
 donayre, brio, y lizarrie (gallant air). She had an 
 admirable form, and her person possessed a charm 
 whose power extended over our own sex. It was 
 impossible to see her without loving her, and without 
 desiring to please her. Her beauty consisted, how 
 ever, more in the colors of her face than in the per 
 fection of her features. Her eyes were not large, but 
 beautiful, soft and brilliant, and their blue was ad 
 mirable : it was like that of the turquoise. Poets 
 could compare the incarnation upon her face to lilies 
 and roses only; and tl^e light shining hair which 
 
RETURN OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE. 353 
 
 accompanied so many wonderful things, made her 
 more like an angel, such as our poor nature can im 
 agine one, than like a woman. . . . She was then too 
 much engrossed with her own sentiments, which 
 passed for infallible rules while they were not always 
 so, and there was too much affectation in her manner 
 of speaking and acting, whose greatest beauty was 
 attributable to delicacy of thought and correctness of 
 reasoning. She appeared constrained, and the fine 
 raillery, exercised by herself and her courtiers, often 
 fell upon those who, while rendering her their honjage, 
 felt, to their mortification, that honest sincerity, which 
 ought to be observed in polite society, was apparently 
 banished from hers. The virtues and praiseworthy 
 qualities of the most excellent creatures are mingled 
 with things which are opposed to them : all men par 
 take of this clay from which they draw their origin, 
 and God alone is perfect. ... In fine, it may be 
 said that at this time all greatness, all glory, and all 
 gallantry were confined to this family of Bourbon, of 
 which H. the Prince was the chief, and that fortune 
 was not considered a desirable thing, if it did not 
 come from their hands." 
 
 It was about this time that the two sonnets of Yoi- 
 
 ture and of Benserade divided the court and the 
 
 city, the salons and the academy. Almost all the 
 
 documents appertaining to this little literary contest 
 
 30* 
 
354: CHAPTER IV. 
 
 have been preserved j 1 but we have discovered some 
 hitherto unknown, which we cannot withhold from 
 the reader, because they show the passion which 
 then existed for literary matters, the ascendency of 
 Madame de Longueville, and the peculiar delicacy 
 of her taste. 
 
 Yoiture had just died in 1648, and his friends had 
 caught, as the last sigh of his muse, the sonnet to 
 Uranie. At the same time another sonnet appeared, 
 written by one of the rivals of Yoiture, younger than 
 himself, and who had not been formed at the hotel 
 de Rambouillet : it was the complaint of a lover who 
 pretended to be more miserable than Job, because 
 Job could at least groan aloud on account of his mis 
 fortune, whilst the poor lover was compelled to suffer 
 in silence : . 
 
 Job, whom a thousand torments grieve, 
 Shall to your eyes his torture prove ; 
 And yet with reason shall believe 
 That they will not your pity move. 
 
 Eegard his ills in every light, 
 Feel every word as he explains : 
 You grow accustomed to the sight 
 Of one who suffers and complains. 
 
 Although his anguish was extreme, 
 Yet human patience you will deem 
 To have e en his by far outdone. 
 
 1 Memoires de Litterature, vol. i., pp. 116-184. 
 
SONNETS OF VOITURE AND BENSEJUTXE. 355 
 
 He suffer d pangs past all belief, 
 Complain d, and told them one by one, 
 But I have known far greater grief. 1 
 
 All the fashionable lovers of the day, the languish 
 ing and the dying, admired this description of their 
 martyrdom, the height of sorrow being to suffer with 
 out complaining ; and it is certain that the close of 
 the sonnet of Benserade is neither without spirit nor 
 without charm. It created a furor. The sonnet of 
 Yoiture was of a very different character. It pos 
 sessed a finished elegance, somewhat feeble it is time, 
 but elevated and animated by a certain passionate 
 accent, which is sweetly felt throughout it. It was 
 of a more distinguished and more rare quality, and 
 for this reason it had at first less success. Balzac 2 
 composed upon these two pieces a formal dissertation, 
 in which he weighs in the balance of the most scru 
 pulous criticism the merits and the defects of both. 
 Corneille, annoyed by a quarrel which turned at 
 tention a little too much from his own works, began 
 to make sport of the two sonnets; afterwards, the 
 affair acquiring more and more literary interest, he 
 engaged in it himself, and took sides with Job against 
 Uranie, in a sonnet in which he does not hesitate to 
 say that Yoiture s is doubtless letter conceived, letter 
 
 1 (Euvres de JBenserade, 1697, vol. i., p. 174. 
 
 3 (Euvres de Bakac, in-folio, vol. ii., pp. 580-594. 
 
356 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 conducted, letter finished, lut that he would prefer to 
 le the author of the other. He returns to the charge 
 in an epigram which terminates as follows : 
 
 The one displays more art, the other much more life ; 
 The one is more precise, the other much more naif; 
 The one shows labor long, the other much more sprite : 
 In short, the one is right well made, the other pretty, quite. 
 
 To use the fewest words I can 
 
 The one springs from a soul polite, 
 
 The other from a gallant man. 1 
 
 This was a very imposing judgment, and, to all 
 appearance, there was little hope for Voiture, when 
 Madame de Longueville undertook his defence. Her 
 situation was somewhat embarrassing. Her brother, 
 the Prince de Conti, was at the head of the Job elms, 
 and Esprit, who had accompanied her to Munster, 
 and on whom she might have depended upon any 
 occasion, Esprit, who, without ceasing to be of the 
 Church, was occupied with the most gallant litera 
 ture, as he will at a future day be occupied with 
 sentences and maxims, had written very warmly in 
 favor of Benserade. But Madame de Longueville 
 was not the person to take the lucky side and to 
 abandon her old friend Yoiture. Her authority soon 
 changed the face of the combat. 
 
 In the camp of the Jobelins was the Countess de 
 
 1 (Euvres diverges, edit, de 1740, Amsterdam, pp. 162-165. 
 
SONNETS OF VOITURE AND BENSERADE. 357 
 
 Bregy, one of the ladies of honor of Queen Anne, 
 and wife of a famous ambassador, from whom we 
 have a collection 1 of prose and verse, and some ques 
 tions cPamour, to which Quinault replied by order of 
 the young king. She was much surprised to learn 
 that Madame de Longueville preferred to the uni 
 versally applauded sonnet a piece of verse which 
 had not produced a very great effect. She hastened 
 to write to her, asking permission to maintain her 
 own opinion against hers. The following is her let 
 ter, with the diplomatic reply of the ambassadress of 
 Minister . 
 
 Madame de Bregy to Madame de Longueville. 
 
 " Job, in ages past, was scarcely less humiliated 
 than I now am to find myself opposed to the Opinion 
 of Your High-ness ; for if I had not enough sense to 
 conform myself to it, my spirit of divination ought 
 to serve the other in this encounter, and not permit 
 him to endure the shame of seeing himself opposed 
 to sentiments which I have regarded as a rule by 
 which one could never fail. But, since I have taken 
 up the cause of Job, more unfortunate because he 
 suffers at your hands than on account of all his first 
 
 1 Les (Eitorcs galantes de Madame la Comtesse do J3., imprime a Leyde 
 et ee vend a Paris, in-18, 1666. 
 8 (Euvres galanUs, etc., p. 17. 
 
358 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 evils, be pleased, Madame, to allow me an opportu 
 nity on Thursday evening to defend an unhappy per 
 son, against whom the devil has cunningly excited 
 your persecution, as the only means of divesting him 
 of that patience which he has exhibited for so many 
 ages, and which cannot be preserved when one is 
 despised by you." 
 
 Madame de LonguevilU to Madame de Bregy. 
 
 " Your letter has done more for the sonnet of Job 
 than Benserade himself; and it occasions me so 
 much regret at not entertaining sentiments conformed 
 to those of the person who wrote it, that, if it does 
 not make me alter, it makes me at least condemn my 
 own, thus obtaining from me a preference for Job, 
 which I should have always refused so long as the 
 sonnet had spoken for itself. This, I think, is all 
 that a generous person can do for a party to which 
 she does not belong ; and I assure you that if yours 
 is not that of my choice, it is exalted in my esteem. 
 I shall be glad to see you on Thursday, and to hear 
 you advocate the cause of Job ; but be admonished, 
 at least, that I will hear you argue against my past 
 sentiments only, consenting no longer to oppose your 
 own, etc." 
 
 1 This letter is printed among those of Madame de Bre"gy, with 
 many little errors, which we correct without indicating them. 
 
SONNETS OF VOITTIEE AND BENSERADE. 359 
 
 The two ladies contended, as we see, in the most 
 courteous manner ; but they contended warmly and 
 for a long time. I conjecture that aside from litera 
 ture there was some secret motive in it all. Madame 
 de Bregy was beautiful and coquettish as well as in 
 tellectual. She could, without much difficulty, be 
 lieve that the piece of Benserade was addressed to 
 her, and that it was an indirect declaration of a some 
 what plebeian love, condemned to wear out secretly 
 in suffering. Benserade had, at least, composed for 
 her an epistle, in which he pleads the fear of love as 
 his excuse for flying from her. 1 Madame de Longue- 
 ville could not have forgotten all the verses which 
 Yoiture had written in her praise while yet quite 
 young ; and perhaps the latter, on again beholding, 
 in 1647, the noble beauty in all the splendor of her 
 charms, quitting his former familiarity for an affec 
 tionate respect, was desirous of ending as he had 
 begun, and dying, as was then said, in the service of 
 her whom he called Uranie, a celestial beauty upon 
 whom he dares scarcely to lift his eyes. 
 
 In love with Uranie I ll pine e ermore ; 
 Absence nor time to me affords a cure ; 
 Naught can my pain the least relief procure, 
 Nor any thing my freedom e er restore. 
 
 1 (Euvres de Benserade, vol. i., p. 97, and (Lucres d* Madame de 
 Bregy, p. 93. 
 
360 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Her chains oppress me each day more and more ; 
 But witnessing her beauty passing pure, 
 I willingly can any death endure, 
 And e en her tyranny dare not deplore. 
 
 My reason, feebly though, sometimes essays 
 To urge me to revolt, its strength arrays ; 
 But when to use it I am ever prone, 
 
 It strives in vain my shackles to remove 
 Then claims that worth is Uranie s alone, 
 And, more than all my senses, prompts to love. 
 
 Madame de Longueville thought, moreover, that 
 her preference was supported by very good reason, 
 and in this we are inclined to agree with her. The 
 work of Benserade possesses undoubtedly more wit, 
 invention, and even originality, since it is certainly 
 something quite new to place in the mouth of Job a 
 declaration of love : that of Yoiture, to us, possesses 
 a secret and melancholy gracefulness which touches 
 the heart. With Corneille, we find the sonnet of Job 
 prettier, though unnaturala, strange eulogium, and 
 one hardly to be expected here from cither party 
 pronouncing it; but the sonnet of Uranie seems to us 
 to proceed more from one in love, and this it is 
 which decides us, Perhaps if Madame de Longue 
 ville had conversed with Corneille, she would have 
 converted him in the name of their common princi 
 ples ; she succeeded, at least, in overcoming her 
 brother, the Prince de Conti, who, after having made 
 
m SONNETS OF VOITUfcE AND BENSERADE. 361 
 
 ji sonnet to Bcnseradc, at last took the part of Voi- 
 ture and of his sister. She launched against him 
 Sarrazm, whose commentaiy in verse we still possess 
 a commentary that turns into ridicule the sonnet 
 of Benserade and the opinion of Esprit : 
 
 Sir Esprit, of the Oratory, 
 
 In you we piety perceive, 
 
 Thus crowning, as you do with glory, 
 
 " Job, whom a thousand torments grieve." etc. 1 
 
 Madame de Longueville herself wrote to Esprit a 
 letter, in which she evinces a fine cultivated literary 
 taste. She acknowledges, in the sonnet of Job, a 
 gallant air and delicacy, but nothing more. With 
 the exception of a few lines, all the others seem to 
 her full of faults, and she carries refinement and pre- 
 ciseness so far as to designate certain expressions of 
 Benserade as disgusting, meaning by this, vulgar. 
 On the contrary, she finds in the sonnet of Yoiture, 
 beauty and force of expression, with thoughts which, 
 though not new, possess the sovereign merit of pas 
 sion. She makes a thousand concessions to Esprit ; 
 she asks pardon for her audacity in differing with 
 
 1 The last line of each of the couplets of this commentary recalls suc 
 cessively and in their order the lines of the sonnet of Benserade. It is 
 not in the works of Sarrazin of 1654, nor in ~his(EuvresJVbuvelles; it will 
 be found in the 1st vol. of Benserade, p. 175. 
 
 31 
 
362 . CHAPTER IV. 
 
 him ;* she announces, at the same time, that she 
 means to continue the war ; she appeals to all Ram- 
 bouillet, and jests pleasantly upon this new kind of 
 Fronde. 
 
 Madame de Longueville to Monsieur Esprit? 
 
 " It is true that I am in the utmost astonishment to 
 find our tastes so different in this matter ; and my 
 astonishment is the greater because it seemed to me 
 a subject upon which our sentiments should be the 
 same. For, in short, with the exception of the sev 
 enth, eighth, and last lines of the sonnet of Job, I 
 find it not only full of faults, but even of such as you 
 have never been able to endure ; its expression goes 
 so far as to be disgusting ; whereas, in the piece of 
 "Voiture (at least in its last six lines), the most beauti 
 ful and forcible expression in the world is united with 
 a thought which, though not certainly new, is so pas 
 sionate that it should, it seems to me, be more highly 
 
 1 During his youth, Madame de Longueville paid much attention to 
 Esprit, in order, probably, to please Madame de Sable", his avowed pro 
 tectress. She took him with her to Munster. Here she testified for 
 him the greatest regard. In an unpublished letter, of October 13, 1646, 
 she recommends him to Mazarin for a benefice. Mazarin does not seem 
 to have been much pleased with him. He writes to Servien, March 22, 
 1647, with seeming discontent, that Esprit solicits from Munster " to be 
 of the house of Monsieur." Melanges de Cldrambault, vol. cxxx. 
 
 3 Library of the Arsenal, Manuscripts of Conrart, in-4, vol. ii., p. 13. 
 
SONNETS OF VOITURE AND BENSERADE. 363 
 
 esteemed than the mere delicacy which characterizes 
 that of Job. I confess that it has as gallant an air as 
 any thing that I have even seen ; also, although I find 
 reason upon my side, I think that if there is none 
 which authorizes the other party, there is at least the 
 greatest cause in the world for preferring its taste ; 
 and if one may suffer himself to be seduced without 
 dying of shame, I confess that it is upon such an 
 occasion. This is all that my natural justice can 
 permit me to feel for those who have not followed 
 my sentiments. I send you what will acquaint you 
 with the manner in which my brother has made 
 known his own, that is, his final opinion ; for the first 
 was made in prose, and more favorable to Uranie 
 than to Job, but with the declaration that if he should 
 choose to send one of the two sonnets to his mistress, 
 it would be that of Job. Neither party was satisfied 
 with this judgment, not being able to turn it fully to 
 its own account. A more decided one was de 
 manded. There are some who think that even this 1 
 is not so ; but, for my own part, I am contented that 
 Yoiture is therein pronounced admirable and grand, 
 and Benserade only gallant and pretty. He has 
 made another sonnet, which I send you also, together 
 with the list of our friends and of our enemies. 
 
 1 The final opinion of the Prince de Conti. 
 
364: CHAPTER IV. 
 
 They have taken sides uninfluenced by prejudice, 
 politics, or any other motives than the force of reason 
 in some cases, and the gratification of taste and 
 blindness of mind in others. But I am not going so 
 far as to use invectives, and .1 think that there is as 
 little generosity in attacking a father of the Oratoire, 
 as there would be in assailing an unarmed man. I 
 close therefore for the very reason which made me 
 prefer Uranie to Job, and the celestial muse to a man 
 infected from the crown of his head to the soles of his 
 feet. 
 
 " I beg you to tell M. the Abbe de Croisy, 1 that I 
 wish him to take my part. I forgot to tell you that 
 we are writing circular letters, and that we expect 
 the opinions of M. and Madame de Montausier, of all 
 Eambouillet, and of M. and Madame de Liancourt. 
 In fine, this matter will not rest here ; and if the ex 
 citement about it continues, the ministers will be 
 more apt to occupy themselves with it than with the 
 assemblies of the nobility ; and the tolerance shown 
 for our seditious manners, is the strongest indication 
 which we have had for a year of the humbling of 
 
 1 We have no knowledge of the Abb6 de Croisy. We are inclined 
 to believe that the copy of Conrart is here defective ; and we propose to 
 read the Abb6 de Cerisy, Habert, of the French Academy a wit then 
 of some reputation, and author of works now forgotten ; among others, 
 Poesies Chretiennea et diverges, dedicated to the Prince de Conti. He 
 died in 1854, at the age of forty-four years. 
 
SONNETS OF VOITURE AND BENSERADE. 365 
 
 royal authority, for they are cantonments against the 
 fundamental laws of a well-governed State. 1 In 
 short, God wills it, and we have nothing to say. 
 
 " A word of reply in regard to persons of your 
 own party and of mine, etc." 
 
 Madame de Longueville gained the day ; all the 
 hotel de Eambouillet went over to her side, and 
 Benserade, beaten after having been triumphant, 
 thus complained to her who had robbed him of his 
 glory : 
 
 You give me then the lowest place ! 
 The vanquish d in this contest I, 
 I, elevated once so high, 
 Must now conceal my blushing face. 
 
 This evil luck will soon apace 
 
 Through mem ry s fane my name decry ; 
 
 1 This allusion to the assemblies of the nobility fixes the date of this 
 letter, placing it more than a year after the epoch with which we are 
 occupied, that is, at the close of 1649, when the nobility rose against the 
 new brevets. But, although written at the close of 1649, this little affair 
 shows faithfully the manner in which Madame de Longueville passed 
 her life in 1648. It is surprising that, in the great collection of pieces 
 relating to the two sonnets (Melanges de Litterature, etc.), not a single 
 date is given. Our conjecture in regard to the letter of Esprit, is con 
 firmed by the following note, found in vol. xi., in-fol., of the papers of 
 Conrart, p. 1113 : " In the month of December, 1649, all the court was 
 divided in regard to the two sonnets of Voiture and Benserade. Every 
 one took sides and declared in favor of him who was most admired. Of 
 the two parties formed upon this subject, those of the first were called 
 Uranins, and Madame de Longueville was their chief; those of the* 
 second were called Joldins, and M. the Prince de Conti was at their 
 head. M. the Prince (Conde) being urged to say of which he would 
 be, would never explain himself otherwise than by declaring both to be 
 very fine." 
 
 31* 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And fallen, I must ever lie 
 Q erwhelm d with sorrow and disgrace. 
 
 We give also this pretty quatrain of Mademoiselle 
 de Sender y : 
 
 Tis but the simple truth to say, 
 Job s fate most strange hath been ; 
 Tormented ever, day by day, 
 First by a demon, by an angel then. 
 
 Such were the frivolous pastimes, at once innocent 
 and dangerous, of Madame de Longueville. All the 
 prosperities and all the felicities of life surrounded 
 her. Every thing conspired in her favor, or rather 
 against her, the triumphs of the mind as weU as 
 those of beauty, the continually increasing glory of 
 her house, the intoxication of vanity, the secret de 
 sires of her heart. The trial was too strong ; she 
 yielded to it. In the enchanted circle in which she 
 moved, more than one adorer attracted her attention ; 
 one of them succeeded in winning her, according to 
 all appearances, at the close of 1647 or at the com 
 mencement of 1648. She was then about twenty- 
 nine years of age. 
 
 Francois, first Prince de Marcillac, afterwards, 
 upon the death of his father, Duke de La Koche- 
 foucauld, was the eldest son of Francois de La 
 Kochefoucauld, whom Louis XIII. created a duke 
 and a peer in 1622, and of Gabrielle de Liancourt. 
 
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 
 
 367 
 
 He was bom December 15, 1613, and at an early 
 age married Mademoiselle de Vivonne. He served 
 honorably in Italy and in Flanders, and in 1646 lie 
 was wounded at the siege of Mardyk. As Retz says, 
 he was not a warrior, although he was a very good 
 soldier. Without being very handsome, he was well 
 formed and very agreeable. What distinguished 
 him especially was his wit. Of this he possessed an 
 infinite fund, of the finest and most delicate. His 
 conversation was mild, easy, insinuating ; and his 
 manners were at once the most natural and most pol 
 ished. He had a lofty air. In him vanity supplied 
 the place of ambition. At an early age he showed a 
 fondness for distinction and for intrigues. Profoundly 
 selfish, and having succeeded in acquiring a knowl 
 edge of himself and in reducing to theory his nature, 
 his character, and his tastes, he set out with contrary 
 appearances, and with those chivalrous manners af 
 fected by the Importants. One of his first connec 
 tions was with Madame de Chevreuse, who gave 
 him to Queen Anne. He entered so earnestly into 
 the interests of the queen and into those of Made 
 moiselle d Hautefort, that he conceived or caught 
 the idea of carrying them away. " I was," says he, 1 
 " at an age when one loves to perform extraordinary 
 
 i Collection Petitot, vol. li., p. 353. 
 
368 CHAPTER TV. 
 
 and brilliant things, and I thought that nothing could 
 be more so than to carry off the queen at once from 
 the king, her husband, and from Cardinal Richelieu, 
 who was jealous of him, and of bearing away Made 
 moiselle d Hautefort from the king, who was enam 
 ored of her." He did not execute this fine project ; 
 but Richelieu, who had some suspicion of all these 
 intrigues, placed him for eight days in the Bastile. 
 It seems that he was not entirely a stranger to the 
 conspiracies of Cinq-Mars. At the death of Riche 
 lieu he hastened to Paris, and, when that of Louis 
 XIII. had placed the supreme authority in*the hands 
 of Queen Anne, he imagined that his fortune was 
 made. He sought successively various important 
 offices which the queen could not grant, whatever 
 fondness she might have entertained for him. Ma 
 dame de Chevreuse exacted for her old friend the 
 government of Havre, which was then of the highest 
 consequence ; but this government was in the family 
 of Richelieu, and Mazarin could not take it away 
 from the Duchess d Aiguillon. La Rochefoucauld 
 aspired to the command of the cavalry ; he was very 
 brave, but he was not considered capable of such an 
 employment. He tried thus several schemes; the 
 queen applied herself to soothing his disappointments, 
 by manners so tender, as to retain him, as would be 
 now said, in a moderate opposition, and keep him 
 
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 369 
 
 from taking part in the violence of Beaufort. He 
 was not then covered with the disgrace of the Im- 
 portants, though he shared it to a certain extent ; 
 and he did not cease to be, or to seem to be, very 
 much attached, not to the government, but to the 
 person of the queen. He looked continually for some 
 great favor at her hands. These favors not arriving, 
 he determined to procure through intimidation what 
 his fidelity had not been able to secure. 
 
 It was during this state of his feelings that he met 
 Madame de Longueville, on her return from Muns- 
 ter, surrounded by the most earnest admirers. The 
 Count de Miossens, afterwards Marshal d Albret 
 handsome, brave, full of wit and of talent, as enter 
 prising in love as in war was paying her a very 
 zealous court. La Kochefoucauld persuaded Mios 
 sens, who was one of his friends, that, after all, if 
 he should overcome the resistance of Madame de 
 Longueville, it would only be a victory flattering to 
 his vanity, whilst that he, La Eochefoucauld, would 
 be able to turn it to a very good account. This was 
 certainly a very touching and heroic reason for lov 
 ing ! Corneille did not think of it in the Cid and in 
 Polyeucte. We have, however, done no more than 
 to transfer, with the utmost exactness, a piece from 
 La Eochefoucauld himself, which we will now quote, 
 
370 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 word for word : l " So much unprofitable labor and so 
 much weariness, finally gave me other thoiights, and 
 led me to attempt dangerous ways in order to testify 
 my hostility to the queen and Cardinal Mazariu. 
 The beauty of Madame de Longueville, her wit, and 
 the charms of her person, attached to her all who 
 could hope for her favor. Many men and women of 
 quality strove to please her ; and besides all this, 
 Madame de Longueville was then upon such good 
 terms with all her house, and so tenderly beloved by 
 the Duke d Enghien, her brother, that the esteem 
 and friendship of this prince might be counted upon 
 by any one in the favor of Madame his sister. Many 
 persons vainly attempted this game, mingling other 
 sentiments with those of ambition. Miossens, who 
 afterwards became Marshal of France, persisted in it 
 longest, but with similar success. I was one of his 
 intimate friends, and he told me his designs. They 
 soon fell to the ground of themselves. He saw this, 
 and told me several times that he was about to re 
 nounce them ; but vanity, which was the strongest of 
 his passions, prevented him from telling me the truth, 
 and he professed to entertain hopes which he had not, 
 and which I knew that he could not have. Some 
 time passed, in this way ; and, finally, I had reason 
 
 Collection Petitot, vol. li., p. 398. 
 
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 371 
 
 to believe that I could make a more considerable use 
 than Miossens of the friendship and confidence of 
 Madame de Longueville. I made him believe it 
 himself. He knew my position at court ; I told him 
 my- views, declaring that my consideration for him 
 would restrain me always, and that I would not at 
 tempt to form a connection with Madame de Longue 
 ville without his permission. I will even confess that 
 I irritated him against her in order to obtain it, with 
 out however saying any thing untrue. He delivered 
 her entirely to me, but he repented when he saw the 
 result of this connection. . . ." 
 
 La Kochefoucauld pleased Madame de Longueville, 
 doubtless, by the graces of his mind and the charms 
 of his person, and especially by that glory won for 
 him by his conduct towards the queen, which was 
 enough to dazzle a pupil of the hotel de Kambouillet. 
 He paid her homage which was, to all appearance, 
 the most passionate in the world. In proportion as 
 he insinuated himself into her heart, he skilfully 
 aroused in her that desire of appearing and of pro 
 ducing an effect, so natural in woman. Little by 
 little, he displayed before her eyes a new object 
 which she had not yet perceived an important part 
 upon the theatre of events just opening. He trans 
 formed her natural coquetry into political ambition, 
 or rather he inspired her with his own ambition. 
 
372 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 When Madame de Longueville, touched by the 
 passion shown for her by La Rochefoucauld, had de 
 termined to respond to it, she gave herself up to him 
 entirely; she devoted herself to him whom she 
 dared to love ; she made it a point of honor, as well 
 doubtless as a secret happiness, to share his destiny 
 and to follow him without looking behind her, sacri 
 ficing to him all her private interests, the evident in 
 terest of her family, and the strongest sentiment of 
 her soul, her tenderness for her brother Conde. 
 
 Oh admirable thing ! do you know who it is that 
 commits a crime against this devotion? He pre 
 cisely who makes his profit in it. La Rochefoucauld 
 expresses himself thus in regard to Madame de 
 Longueville i 1 " This princess possessed all the advan 
 tages of mind and beauty to such a degree and with 
 so much charm, that it seemed as if nature had taken 
 pleasure in forming a masterpiece. . . . But these 
 fine qualities were rendered less brilliant by a stain 
 which was never seen upon a princess of such merit, 
 which found no imitations on those who entertained 
 for her a particular adoration ; a stain which so 
 transformed her in their sentiments, that she did not 
 recognize her own. At this time the Prince de Mar- 
 cillac shared her mind, and as he joined his ambition 
 
 Collection Petitot, vol. li., p. 455, 
 
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 373 
 
 to his love, lie inspired her with a desire for business, 
 to which she had a natural aversion." 
 
 Let us listen to the declared enemy of Madame de 
 Longueville, her step-daughter, the Duchess de Ne- 
 mours : " It will doubtless cause astonishment 1 that 
 Madame de Longueville should have been one of the 
 first (to join the party of malcontents), she who had 
 nothing to hope from that party, and who had no 
 reason to complain of the court. . . . M. the Prince 
 felt an extreme tenderness for his sister. She, on her 
 side, humored him, less from interest than from the 
 particular esteem and tender friendship which she 
 had for him. At this time neither she nor the whole 
 cabal showed much wit in their designs; and al 
 though they were all possessed of enough of it, they 
 employed it only in gay conversations, only in com 
 menting and refining upon the delicacies of the heart 
 and of the sentiments. They made all the wit and 
 merit of a person to consist in making subtile dis 
 tinctions and representations, sometimes unnatural 
 enough. Those who made the most display were, in 
 their opinion, the most creditable and most learned 
 persons, and they treated as ridiculous and coarse 
 whatever approached to grave conversation. ... It 
 was La Rochefoucauld who gave to this princess so 
 
 1 Memoires, p. 18, etc. 
 
 32 
 
374 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 many hollow and false sentiments. As he exercised a 
 very great power over her, and as he seldom thought 
 of any other person than himself, he drew her into 
 all the intrigues in which she engaged, only to be 
 able thereby to promote his own ends." 
 
 Madame de Motteville, whom we must never grow 
 weary of studying and citing when we wish to know 
 and to establish the . truth, after having marked the 
 principal motive which urged La Rochefoucauld in 
 his pursuit of Madame de Longueville, adds : "In 1 
 all that she has since done, it is clearly seen that 
 ambition was not the only thing that occupied her 
 soul, and that the interests of the Prince de Marcillac 
 there held a prominent place. For him she became 
 ambitious, for him she ceased to love repose ; and in 
 order to be sensible to this affection, she became too 
 insensible to her own glory. . . . The declarations of 
 the Prince de Marcillac, as I have already said, had 
 not been displeasing to her; and this nobleman, who 
 was perhaps more selfish than tender, wishing through 
 her to promote his own interests, believed that he 
 should inspire her with a desire of ruling the. princes 
 her brothers. ..." 
 
 Finally Retz, who was perfectly acquainted with 
 all the actors and all the actresses of the Fronde, and 
 
 1 Memoires, vol. ii., p. 15. 
 
LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. 375 
 
 who, in regard to this epoch, merits not to be be 
 lieved without reserve, but to be listened to seriously, 
 closes the most charming eulogy upon Madame de 
 Longueville with these words, so often repeated, and 
 which contain the true judgment of posterity : " As 
 her passion obliged her to make politics only a sec 
 ondary matter, from the heroine of a great party, she 
 became its adventuress." 1 
 
 We must either renounce all historical criticism, 
 or from these accumulated testimonies, which we 
 could have much increased, we must draw this con 
 clusion : 1, That before her connection with La Eo- 
 chefoucauld, Madame de Longueville remained en 
 tirely unconcerned in every political intrigue ; that 
 she was occupied only with intellectual matters and 
 gallantry, suffering herself to be guided absolutely in 
 every thing else by her father and by her brother ; 
 2, That it was not on her account, as has been often 
 repeated, that La Eochefoucauld entered the Fronde ; 
 that, far from this, it was La Eochefoucauld, and La 
 Eochefoucauld alone, who, little by little, engaged her 
 in it, designedly and selfishly ; 3, That the conduct 
 of Madame de Longueville in the Fronde must be 
 referred to La Eochefoucauld, who governed her, and 
 that the only good thing in her is the character which 
 
 i Memoirs, vol. i., p. 219. 
 
376 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 she exhibited when the intrigue became a tempest, 
 when it was necessary to risk her person, to stake her 
 happiness, her repose, her fortune, and her life, re 
 taining still under the hand of another what she could 
 never lose the pride of soul and brilliant energy of 
 the sister of the great Conde. 
 
 It is not our business here to give a history of the 
 Fronde, to make known its peripetics, its principal 
 personages, the true springs of their actions, their ap 
 parent patriotism, their real ambition, their unstable 
 hopes, their perpetual changes. "We wish simply to 
 describe Madame de Longueville ; it is to her, with 
 out separating her from her brother Conde, that we 
 would confine ourselves in this labyrinth of intrigues : 
 here even we will show her only in the first scenes of 
 the Fronde. 
 
 As soon as La Kochefoucauld had entered the 
 heart of Madame de Longueville, he occupied it en 
 tirely. She employed in his service all the charms 
 of her person, the resources of her mind, the great 
 ness of her heart. Careless of her interests, and 
 turning her back upon the fortunes of her house, she 
 attacked openly, or undermined by artifice, that roy 
 alty which her family had supported, and which had 
 been still more the support of her family. Forgetful 
 of her most just resentment, even of her honor, she 
 entered the ranks of those who, in 1643, had endeav- 
 
CONDE. 377 
 
 ored to blast in the bud her fresh and unsullied fame. 
 The daughter of the Condes went over to the Ven- 
 domes and to the Lorraines, made common cause 
 with Beaufort and with Madame de Chevreuse, and 
 exposed herself to the risk of encountering in this 
 new circle her old and implacable enemy, Madame 
 de Montbazon. If Guise had not then been at Na 
 ples, she would doubtless have testified her perfect 
 change by shaking the hand that had slain Coligny ! 
 
 In the mean time La Rochefoucauld did not forget 
 his reason for desiring so ardently the conquest of 
 Madame de Longueville. He had wished, as he 
 himself tells us, to reach the brother through the 
 sister, and to draw into the Fronde the house of 
 Conde, which had hitherto been a rampart to the 
 queen and to Mazarin. 
 
 M. the Prince had died at the close of 1646, and 
 with him his family had lost its political helm. 
 Madame the Princess remained firmly attached to 
 the queen ; but Madame de Longueville succeeded, 
 without much difficulty, in numbering among the 
 malcontents the Prince de Conti, who, while waiting 
 for a cardinal s hat, was not sorry to make some 
 noise, play some part, and acquire an importance 
 which might make him compare favorably with his 
 brother. She needed no great cunning to draw 
 among the malcontents her husband, who was natu- 
 32* 
 
378 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 rally inclined towards them. But the great difficulty 
 was to win Conde himself. 
 
 The latter imagined that he had great cause of 
 complaint against the cardinal. At the death of his 
 brother-in-law, Breze, in 1646, he asked to succeed 
 him as High-Admiral of France. It was impossible 
 to add this office to the number already possessed by 
 the Condes; but, through management, the queen 
 gave it to no one, and set it down for herself. M. the 
 Prince, who was still living, ambitious and greedy, 
 had warmly resented this refusal. The impetuous 
 Conde had not concealed his anger. He was also 
 much irritated at being sent into Catalonia to replace 
 d Harcourt, with the promise of every thing neces 
 sary to cany on a campaign worthy of him ; and that 
 he had been left, without the aid promised and 
 earnestly claimed, between a strongly-fortified place, 
 which he could not take by assault on account of 
 the condition of his troops, and a powerful army 
 which he could neither wait for nor reach, so that he 
 was obliged to raise the siege of Lerida, and to re 
 treat in good order before the emeny. He felt that 
 he had done well, but it was the first time that he had 
 given way ; in spite of him, his glory suffered by it, 
 and he complained with bitterness of what he called 
 the disloyalty of the cardinal. Finally, he was sent 
 into Flanders to take command of a very feeble 
 
CONDE. 379 
 
 army, not aii army destitute of courage, but en 
 tirely undisciplined. Besides, it must be confessed, 
 the true genius of Conde was for war. In this, again, 
 lie is the first of his age, and equal to the greatest in 
 antiquity and in modern times, as ardent as Alexan 
 der, as resolute as Csesar, as fertile in expedients as 
 Hannibal, as capable of making precise and vast cal 
 culations as Napoleon, which may be seen by the 
 plan of the campaign by which, in 16i5, he proposed 
 to dictate peace to the Emperor in Vienna. He pos 
 sessed all the qualifications of a warrior. He knew 
 not only how to achieve a victory by the boldness of 
 his manoeuvres, but he knew how to calculate upon 
 one, and, as Bossuet said of a very different person, 
 he left nothing to fortune which he could accomplish 
 through prudence and foresight. He was as good a 
 military manager as he was an active and enterprising 
 general. He excelled in the art of encamping and 
 of besieging, as well as in that of fighting, and he 
 surpassed Vauban. By turns, he exhibited that 
 audacity which confounded Mercy at Fribourg and 
 at Nortlingen, and that great prudence which led 
 him to raise the siege of Lerida, and which at a later 
 period, in 1675, wearied Montecuculli. With the 
 most happy instincts, he united profound study. In 
 Catalonia he marched with a copy of Caesar in his 
 hand, explaining it to his lieutenants. He formed 
 
380 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 the greatest generals, commencing with Turenne, 
 who served under him during two campaigns, and 
 finishing with that Luxembourg who, if he were 
 rejudged, would perhaps be found not inferior to 
 Turenne himself. Let us add this very striking fact : 
 Conde is the only modem captain who never suffered 
 defeat, and who was always victorious when he com 
 manded in chief. Turenne was beaten twice in regu 
 lar battle at Rethel and at Mariendal ; Frederic 
 commenced with reverses ; Napoleon terminated his 
 dazzling career by two frightful routes Leipsic and 
 "Waterloo ; Conde alone was ever triumphant. He 
 had arrayed against him the three greatest generals 
 of Europe Mercy, Montecuculli, and "William ; not 
 one of them was able to deprive him of even the 
 shadow of an advantage. We might easily extend, 
 without exhausting it, the eulogy of the warrior in 
 Conde ; but, we acknowledge it, he had not the quali 
 fications of a great politician, because at bottom he 
 had no true determined ambition. First prince of the 
 blood in a monarchy such as was that of France in 
 the seventeenth century, what could he desire be 
 yond the acquisition of glory ? And after Richelieu 
 and under Mazarin, this glory could be reached by 
 him only on the battle-field. It was for this and for 
 this alone that his father had reared him. He was 
 also subjected, at an early age, to that severe disci- 
 
COND. 381 
 
 pline of ambition which teaches to speak at the 
 proper moment and to be silent, to exhibit no humor, 
 to keep the eye fixed upon the highest object, never 
 suffering it to be turned aside by secondary interests, 
 or by the caprices of the imagination or of the heart. 
 Such is the ambitious man; such were, more or less, 
 Henri IY., Richelieu, and Mazarin ; for it is just to 
 place Mazarin in this illustrious company. All three 
 had a great end to attain, which they pursued with 
 constancy. Conde had no aim ; he formed no great 
 design, being by birth as high as he could become 
 all that he could ever dream of being, unless he 
 acted the madman or the traitor ; and he had a mind 
 perfectly correct, with a corresponding heart. His 
 conscience and his good sense told him then that he 
 had nothing to gain by all the intrigues in which 
 others wished to engage him ; that his place was near 
 the throne, in order to protect it with his sword 
 against its enemies, whoever they might be, whether 
 at home or abroad. If he had kept this place, he 
 would have attained to a rank much higher than even 
 the usurpation of royalty. Let us not hesitate to look 
 at it, that we may the better feel the greatness of his 
 fall : to his five years of brilliant victories in Flan 
 ders and upon the Rhine, from 1643 to 1648, he 
 might, beyond all doubt, have added, during the war 
 which continued between France and Spain after the 
 
382 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 treaty of Westphalia, new victories, which, in two 
 campaigns, at most, might have forever conquered 
 Belgium, as the preceding had added Alsace to the 
 French territory. He would then, at the age of 
 thirty, have gained as many battles as Alexander, 
 Hannibal, and Csesar ; and still there would have 
 been before him twenty years of vigor, twenty other 
 victories, like that of Senef, for example, 1 which he 
 gained upon the verge of old age, before laying aside 
 his sword, as a monument of what he might have 
 done from 1648 to 1675. Incomparable would have 
 been his destiny had he performed his part as first 
 prince of the blood, firm defender of the crown yet 
 loyal interpreter of the nation ; bearing to the queen 
 without frightening her, and to Mazarin, while sus 
 taining him, the legitimate complaints of the no 
 bility, of the parliament, and of the people. 
 
 There was, in fact, a cause for the Fronde ; Maza 
 rin, almost equal to Richelieu as a diplomatist, had 
 not, in the smallest degree, the genius of his master 
 for the administration of State affairs. Incessantly 
 occupied with increasing the territory and strength 
 ening the royal authority, he attended to little else, 
 
 1 Cond6 gained the battle of Senef, in 1674, with 45,000 men against 
 65,000, commanded by the Prince of Orange. Had it not been for the 
 cowardice of the Swiss infantry, who refused to fight, he would have 
 destroyed the entire army of the enemy. 
 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 383 
 
 and suffered abuses and disorders to creep in every 
 where. The great wars which he undertook, the four 
 or five armies which he was obliged to support, had 
 exhausted France, which did not always find in glory 
 a consolation for its misery. It had been necessary 
 to increase the taxes, even to sell the public offices, 
 in order to have means for paying the troops. The 
 authority of the parliament had often been eluded or 
 disarmed. The blood of the nobility had flowed in 
 torrents. The people groaned under the heaviest 
 burdens ; and if the sentiment of national grandeur 
 abandoned them even for a moment, the greatness of 
 the evil caused them to utter complaints, and drove 
 them to revolt. I do not accuse the people : they 
 are seldom wrong ; they move only when they suffer ; 
 they agitate only to improve their condition, or at 
 least to make it less unhappy. It is parties that are 
 culpable, when, instead of striving to afford relief to 
 the evils of the people, they apply themselves to ren 
 dering these evils more poignant and more bitter, by 
 inflammatory declamations, thus driving the people 
 beyond all bounds. I pity, in 1648, the people, nat 
 urally irritated by the increase of taxes, and by the 
 disorders of the administration ; I condemn the 
 Fronde, which, in its chiefs, with few exceptions, 
 was deceitful and corrupt, violent and mad ; and I 
 am in fav^r of Mazarin, without loving him or with- 
 
384: CHAPTER IV. 
 
 out being deceived in regard to his defects and his 
 faults, because, after all, he served France well, con 
 ducting with great ability its affairs abroad, and dimin 
 ishing, by the peace with Germany, its misery at home. 
 I admire Conde in this first Fronde, for having re 
 sisted his own injuries, the antipathy which he felt 
 for Mazarin, the solicitations of his own family, and 
 of his sister. I shall blame him in the strongest 
 terms when, unfaithful to his fortune and to his 
 glory, sacrificing the part of a principal to that of an 
 accessory, putting temper in the place of policy, he 
 shall engage in the intrigues which he had spurned, 
 and shall allow himself at first to humor, then to 
 serve the Fronde. 
 
 He commenced very differently. In the beginning 
 of the troubles, Conde, without having enough of the 
 statesman to crush the sedition in its bud, preserved 
 at least a lofty bearing towards the malcontents ; he 
 lent a careless ear to the proposals of his sister, and 
 having no taste for popular agitations, and not more 
 for the tumultuous and often ridiculous deliberations 
 of the parliament, occupied only with the coalition 
 of Spain and of the empire, he went, in the spring of 
 1648, to take command of the army of Flanders, re 
 solved to strike a blow and to repeat the victory of 
 Rocroy. Not being able to secure him, the malcon 
 tents wished at least to profit by his absence. While 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 385 
 
 Mazarin, for the best interests of the country, was 
 demanding its utmost resources, and turning every 
 thing into money, in order to raise additional troops, 
 the Frondeurs, that is, a few of the great lords, sup 
 ported by a part of the nobility, aroused the people 
 and the parliament, who had not the least idea of the 
 true situation of affairs ; for the parliament was not 
 a political assembly, and the people were simply 
 aware that they were suffering. Mazarin, entirely 
 occupied with the peril of the frontier, did not give 
 enough attention to domestic dangers. He had kept 
 very few troops near him, and one fine morning it 
 happened that the Frondeurs took possession of Paris. 
 The battle of the barricades followed close upon that 
 of Lens. On his return, Conde found royalty humil 
 iated, the parliament triumphing and dictating laws 
 to the crown, the Duke de Beaufort, with whom he 
 once thought of measuring swords in defence of the 
 honor of his sister, freed from his prison of "Vin- 
 cennes, and master of Paris by aid of the populace 
 who idolized him ; the fickle and vain Abbe de Retz 
 transformed into a tribune of the people ; the Prince 
 de Conti into a captain ; M. de Longueville under 
 the guidance of his wife and La Rochefoucauld ; and 
 the feeble Duke d Orleans fancying himself almost a 
 king, because he saw the queen humiliated, and be 
 cause the Frondeurs, cunningly flattering his self-love, 
 
 33 
 
386 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 were treating him like a sovereign. Conde, at a 
 glance, saw .the situation of affairs and his duty also ; 
 and, without any hesitation, he offered his sword to 
 the queen. 
 
 He had a stormy explanation with his sister. 
 
 It is pretended, that for some time their reciprocal 
 tenderness had suffered more than one interruption ; 
 that, in 1645, Madame de Longueville had crossed 
 the loves of her brother and Mademoiselle Du Yi- 
 gean ; that, in 1646, Conde, seeing her too intimate 
 with La Eochefoucauld, had caused her to be called 
 to Munster by her husband : but for this we have 
 only the authority of the Duchess de Nemours, 1 and 
 nothing is less probable. The passion of Conde for 
 Mademoiselle Du Yigean extinguished itself, as we 
 have seen, and as all contemporaries affirm. The 
 attentions of La Eochefoucauld to Madame de 
 Longueville may have preceded the embassy of 
 Munster, but they were not observed until 1647, and 
 it is at the close of this year that Madame de Motte- 
 ville places them, w r hile attributing them especially 
 to the desire of La Rochefoucauld to share the credit 
 of the sister with the brother. But it is very certain, 
 that as soon as the latter remarked this connection, 
 he disapproved of it entirely ; and not succeeding in 
 
 1 Memoires, p. 19, etc. Villefore has followed Madame de Nemours. 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 387 
 
 his effort to rouse his sister from the intoxication of a 
 first love, he passed from the most ardent affection to 
 a bitter discontent. In the autumn of 1648, on his 
 return from Lens, this connection had acquired its 
 greatest strength, and become almost notorious. 
 Madame de Longueville, directed by La Kochefou- 
 cauld, did then every thing in the world to gain her 
 brother : she brought to bear upon him all her al 
 lurements, all her fondlings ; she put into operation 
 every thing which she thought might influence this 
 passionate and fickle heart ; she failed. He did not 
 succeed in gaming over- her his accustomed ascend 
 ency. They quarrelled and separated openly. Mad 
 ame de Longueville plunged more deeply into the 
 Fronde, and Conde applied himself to giving the 
 new Importants a harsh lesson. 
 
 It is not my intention to enter into details. I wish 
 simply to show that the brother and sister, in their 
 opposite conduct, exhibited the same blood and the 
 same audacity. 
 
 The queen had retired to Saint-Germain with the 
 young king and all the government. Paris was 
 under the absolute control of the Fronde. In spite 
 of the first president, Mole, the 1 Hopital of the seven 
 teenth century, it stirred up the parliament, by the 
 aid of a few ambitious councillors and by seditious 
 and mischievous inquests. It disposed of a great 
 
388 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 part of the Parisian clergy, through the coadjutor of 
 the archbishop, Retz, who possessed and exercised all 
 the authority of his uncle. It had continually at its 
 head the two great houses of Vendome and Lorraine, 
 with two princes of the blood, the Prince de Conti 
 and the Duke de Longueville, followed by a very 
 great number of illustrious families. It gave law in 
 the salons, thanks to a brilliant troupe of pretty 
 women, who drew after them the flower of the young 
 nobility. In short, the army itself was divided. 
 Turenne, with his troops, who were stationed upon 
 the borders of the Rhine until the perfect conclusion 
 of the treaty of Westphalia, obedient to the sugges 
 tions of his eldest brother, the Duke de Bouillon, who 
 wished to gain his principality of Sedan, had just 
 raised the standard of revolt, and was threatening to 
 place the court between his own army and that of 
 Paris. Add that the parliament of the capital had 
 sent deputies to all the parliaments of the kingdom, 
 and that it was thus forming a sort of formidable 
 parliamentary league in the face of monarchy. 
 Conde took command of all the troops that remained 
 faithful, and everywhere opposed the insurrection. 
 He wrote himself to the army of the Rhine, which 
 knew him, and which, after the route sustained by 
 Turenne at Mariendal, had been led back by him to 
 victory : these letters, supported by the proceedings 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 389 
 
 of the government, succeeded in arresting the revolt ; 
 and Turenne, abandoned by his own soldiers, was 
 obliged to fly to Holland. 1 At ease upon this sub 
 ject, Conde marched upon Paris, and placed it in 
 siege. Instead of disputing the ground, as he might 
 have done, foot by foot, with the sedition, he allowed 
 it the freest course, sure that the spectacle of licen 
 tiousness, which could not fail to appear, would, little 
 by little, restore to loyalty those who had for a 
 moment gone astray. He began by calling, in the 
 name of the queen and through his mother, all his 
 family to Saint-Germain. The Prince de Conti and 
 M. de Longueville did not dare to disobey ; but La 
 Rochefoucauld saw that the Fronde was in the great 
 est peril ; he hastened after these two princes ; he 
 brought them back to Paris, made the Prince de 
 Conti generalissimo, placing under him the Dukes 
 d Elbeuf and de Bouillon, who shared authority with 
 the Marshal de La Mothe Houdancourt, governor of 
 Paris. 2 As to Madame de Longueville, she excused 
 herself to the queen and to her mother on the grounds 
 of her delicate situation, which would not permit her 
 
 1 History of Turenne, by Ramsay, vol. ii., Memoires de Turenne, p. 
 lix., and the letters of Queen Anne, Preuves, p. viii., etc. 
 
 1 Philippe de La Mothe Houdancourt, Duke de Cardonne, Viceroy of 
 Catalonia, the husband of the beautiful De Toussy, who, upon strong 
 suspicions, was arrested in 1647, and for whom M. de Longueville in 
 terceded from Munster. 
 
390 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 to undertake the least fatigue. In fact, Madame 
 de Longueville was in this condition, for the last 
 time, in 161-8, when, it must be confessed, her con 
 nection with La Rochefoucauld was well known. 
 It was in 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 acted 
 the warrior as well as she was able. There is, 
 it is said, 1 a portrait representing her as Pallas, 
 just as, a little later, Mademoiselle was represented ; 
 her light hair covered with a helmet, and her soft 
 eyes trying to wear a martial look. It is at least cer 
 tain that she shared all the fatigues of the siege, that 
 she was present at the reviews of the troops, at the 
 parades of the citizen soldiery, 2 and that all the civil 
 
 1 Father Lelong speaks of this portrait, by Poilly, in-fol. ; we have 
 sought for it in vain. It is probable that Father Lelong has referred to 
 Madame de Longueville the fine portrait by Nicolas Poilly, the more or 
 less authentic inscription of which is : Mademoiselle de Montpensier, with 
 the equivocal arms, at once of the Orleans and of the Conde s. We think, 
 however, that it is Mademoiselle much embellished. 
 
 3 The war movement of Paris, in this first Fronde, is well depicted in 
 these couplets of an unpublished song of the Recueil de Maurepas, vol. 
 ii., p. 43 : Blocus de Paris pendant le Carnaval de 1649 : 
 
 " Que vous nous causez do tonrmont, 
 Facheux Parlement ! 
 
 Que vos arrests 
 
 Sont ennemis de tous nos interests ! 
 Lo carnaval a perdu tous ses cbarraes ; 
 Tout est en armes, 
 Et les amours 
 Sont effrayes par le bruit des tambours. 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 391 
 
 and military plans were discussed before her. The 
 memoirs of the times are full, in regard to this, of the 
 most curious details. The hotel de Longueville was 
 continually filled with officers and generals ; nothing 
 was seen there but plumes, helmets, and swords. 
 Notwithstanding all this, the democratic spirit 
 
 La guerre va chasser 1 amour, 
 Ainsi que la cour ; 
 
 Et dans Paris 
 
 La peur bannit et les jeux et les ris. 
 Adieu le bal, adieu les promenaded, 
 Les serenades 
 Car les amours 
 Sont effrayes par le bruit des tambours. 
 
 Mars est un fort mauvais galant, 
 II est insolent, 
 Et la beaute 
 
 Perd tous ses traits aupres de sa fierte. 
 L on ne peut pas aco>rder les trompettos 
 Et les fleurettes ; 
 Car les amours 
 Sont effrayes par le bruit des tambours. 
 
 L on ne voit plus d esprit sense ; 
 Tout est renverse. 
 
 Le senateur 
 
 Tranche a present du grand gladiateur. 
 Les echevins ont qnitte la police 
 Pour la milice, 
 Et le bourgeois 
 Croit avoir droit de reformer les lolx. 
 
 Place Eoyale, ou tant d amans 
 
 Contoient leurs tourmenta, 
 
 Ou leur destin 
 
 Etoit souvent flatte par Constantin ; 
 Tu n entends plus, au lieu de tant d aubades, 
 Que mousquetades, 
 Et les amours 
 Pour leurs jouets n ont plus que des tambours. 
 
392 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 which had originated the Fronde, was not satisfied : 
 it beheld with displeasure all the forces of Paris in 
 the hands of the brother, of the brother-in-law, and 
 of the sister of him who^ommanded the siege. Be 
 lieving very little, and with reason, in the patriotism 
 of the princes, the citizens demanded some sureties 
 from the chiefs who might at any time betray them, 
 and make peace, at their expense, with Saint-Germain. 
 ~No one seemed to know how to appease this multi 
 tude, without which nothing could be done. It was 
 then that Madame de Longueville showed that, if she 
 had forgotten her true duties, she had retained the 
 energy of her race and the intrepidity of the Condes. 
 She took her young children, and, notwithstanding her 
 delicate condition, proceeded to the principal quarter 
 of the insurrection, the hotel de Yille, placing herself 
 in the hands of the people as a hostage, with all that 
 was most dear to her. 1 Her example was followed 
 by the Duchess de Bouillon. 2 " Imagine," says Retz, 
 " these two beautiful persons upon the balcony of the 
 
 1 Le premier Courrier Fran$ais traduit fidelement en vers burlesques, 
 
 1649, p. 11. 
 
 " . . . Ce seigneur prudent et sage (M. de Longueville) 
 Donne ses enfans en ostage 
 Avec Madame leur mamam, 
 Qui n est superbe comme un paon, 
 Mais dont 1 humeur douco et courtoiso 
 Cause avec la moindre bourgeoise." 
 
 a E16onore-Catheriue-Fe brcmie do Bergues, whose merit equalled her 
 beauty : she married in 1634, and died in 1657. 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 393 
 
 hotel de Yille ; more beautiful because they appeared 
 neglected, although they were not. Each held in 
 her arms one of her children, who were as beautiful 
 as their mothers. La Greve was full of people, even 
 to the housetops ; the men all raised cries of joy, and 
 the women wept with tenderness. 1 There, on the 
 night of the 28th of January, 1649, Madame de 
 Longueville gave birth to her last child, a son, who 
 was baptized by Eetz in the church Saint- Jean-de- 
 Greve, having for its godfather the Provost, for its 
 godmother the Duchess de Bouillon, and who re 
 ceived the name of Charles de Paris ; 2 the child of 
 the Fronde, handsome, talented, and brave, who 
 during his life was the troublesome hope, the melan 
 choly joy of his mother, and the cause of her greatest 
 grief in 1672, when he perished, in the passage of 
 the Rhine, by the side of his uncle. 3 
 
 1 Vol. 1st, p. 221. 
 
 a Le quatrieme Courrier, etc., p. 
 
 No, dis-je, dans I Hotel de Ville, 
 II fat a Saint-Jean baptist 
 Et cc jour christianise. 
 
 Or, cette duchesse (de Bouillon) et la ville 
 
 Tinrent le jeune Longueville, 
 
 Et le nommerent Carolus 
 
 De Paris, et s il en faut plus, 
 
 D Orleans; s il en faut encore, 
 
 Comte de Saint-Paul, que j honore, 
 
 Pour la ville etant le Feron (Prevot des marchands). 
 
 8 Charles de Paris, Count de Saint-Paul, -was at first destined for the 
 
394: CHAPTER IV. 
 
 For some time, Conde limited himself to subjecting 
 Paris to a blockade more and more rigorous, and to 
 small attacks, the effect of which was not very en 
 couraging to the citizen troops. The gentry alone, 
 even during their negotiations with Mazarin, fought 
 well. They carried on the war in two modes, by the 
 sword and by epigrams, songs and vaudevilles. The 
 party of Mazarin, as may be conceived, accomplished 
 very little with Madame de Longueville. 1 Conde 
 himself, who had loved her so much, and who, after- 
 Church. There is a charming portrait of him, by Nanteuil, after Ferdi 
 nand, which represents him, at the age of eleven years, in 1660, with an 
 abbe s cross, and this inscription upon the border : Messire diaries Paris 
 tf Orleans, Count de Saint-Paul, Abbe de St.-Eemi de Reims, etc. It is 
 impossible to find a more graceful creature. 
 
 1 Notwithstanding her sacrifices, democratic suspicions did not spare 
 her. The Recueil de Maurepas, vol. ii., p. 417, contains a song under 
 this title : Les Honni soit-il de ce temps-ci, in which Madame de Longue 
 ville has also her couplet : 
 
 " Servir pour ostage & la ville, 
 Croire son conseil trcs-utile, 
 Tandis que son mari nous vend ; 
 Tous Ics jours estre & Taudience 
 Et ne resoudre que da vent, 
 Honni soit-il qui mal y pense 1" 
 
 Another couplet from a Mazarin song, same volume, p. 255 : 
 
 " Si 1 amour de Marsillac 
 Fait durer ce miquemao, 
 De longtemps la paix n est faite, 
 Et bient&t cette amourette 
 Nous mettra tous au bissac." 
 
 The collection of historical songs of the Arsenal, have a few other 
 pieces more difficult to cite. 
 
THE FIRST FRONDE. 395 
 
 wards, will resume for her all his early tenderness, 
 did not hesitate to ridicule her with the accustomed 
 license of his language. He diverted himself very 
 much at the expense of the martial spirit of his 
 brother, the Prince de Conti, and he lampooned his 
 adversaries, among others the Count de Maure, 1 the 
 youngest of the M ontemarts, with so much spirit and 
 in such a soldierlike way, that he abused the troops 
 and the citizens, when they dared to venture a few 
 steps from the ramparts of Paris. To enable one to 
 judge of the Fronde, even in this first period of its 
 short, yet too long history, it will be sufficient to 
 say that it had from that moment recourse to the 
 only remaining enemy of France ; that these great 
 patriots, who continually reproached Mazarin with 
 being a stranger, applied to Spain, and that an envoy 
 of the archduke and of the Count de Fuensaldaigne 
 was received, and heard in full parliament. Is it 
 astonishing, after this, that in the course of a few 
 years, the young Louis XIY. should, without attract 
 ing attention, enter this same parliament equipped 
 for a ride and with whip in hand ! Demagoguey 
 produces necessarily tyranny, and, what is more sad, 
 it therewith produces universal applause, bruising the 
 hearts of those alone who had not merited it, and had 
 
 1 See chapter ii., verses of Conde on the Count de Maure. 
 
396 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 simply desired a moderate liberty. When the 
 shameful proposition was made to receive the Span 
 ish envoy, the President de Mesmes, turning towards 
 the Prince de Conti, addressed to him these severe 
 words i 1 " Is it possible, sir, that a prince of the blood 
 of France proposes to give audience upon the fleurs 
 de lya to a deputy of the most cruel enemy of the 
 fleurs de lys /" 
 
 Conde thought that it was time to bring matters to 
 a close. He rendered more rigorous the blockade, 
 and multiplied the attacks. It was in one of these 
 attacks, at Charenton, February 9, 1649, that he lost 
 his best friend, the younger Coligny, the brave d An- 
 delot, then Duke de Chatillon, the husband of Isa- 
 belle de Montmorency, one of the heroes of Lens, 
 where he served in the capacity of a lieutenant-gen 
 eral, from which office he was about to be elevated 
 to that of marshal ; he was, it is true, somewhat easy 
 in his life and manners, but he promised to make 
 
 ^Retz, vol. 1st, p. 247: "The President de Mesmes, a man of ca 
 pacity, uncle of him whom you now see. . ." This certainly means 
 Henri de Mesmes, second of the name, eldest son of Jean Jacques 
 de Mesmes, M. de Koissy, brother of Claude do Mesmes, M. d Avaux, 
 the skilful diplomatist of whom we have before spoken, brother also 
 of Jean Antoine de Mesmes, whose eldest son was Jean Jacques de 
 Mesmes, third of the name, successively counsellor to the parliament, 
 president, grand-master of ceremonies, one of the forty of the French 
 Academy, who died in 1678. His uncle, Henri de Mesmes, here spoken 
 of, was president of the parliament from 1627 until his death, in 1650, 
 We have excellent portraits of these four De Mesmes, 
 
PE&CE OF 1649. 
 
 397 
 
 for France a captain of the strength of his brother-in- 
 law, Montmorency Bontteville, Marshal de Luxem 
 bourg. Conde flew to the spot where Chatillon had 
 just fallen, received him in his arms, and, bathing 
 him with tears, caused him to be transported to Yin- 
 cennes, where he drew his last breath. 1 All historians 
 
 1 He was thirty-nine years of age, and left but one son, born after 
 the death of his father, and taken off quite young in 1650. The fol 
 lowing is the manner in which Le Courrier Francois relates, in its fifth 
 number, the death of Chatillon : 
 
 Navarre, brave regiment, 
 Lascha le pied vilainement. 
 Le Prince, advert! de 1 escarre 
 Quo le canon fait sur Navarre, 
 Pensa crever dans son pourpoint, 
 Mais pourtant il ne creva point 
 Dans 1 esperance de combattre 
 Le bourgeois qu on tenoit a quatre, 
 Qui comme un diable juroit Dieu 
 Qu il vouloit secourir ce lieu ; 
 II dit de Conde peste et rage. 
 Mais le Prince a son advantage 
 Attendoit messieurs de Paris, 
 Comme le chat fait la sourls. 
 Assure sur son eminence, 
 II avoit grande impatience 
 De taster le pouls au bourgeois 
 Qui ne sortit pas cette fois. 
 
 II est prudent et craint la touche, 
 Joint qu il n aime pas la cartouche 
 Dont si fit son canon charger. 
 Paris n en voulant point ronger, 
 Le Prince qui faisoit fanfare 
 Commit pour soutenir Navarre 
 Chastillon avec du renfort ; 
 Mais il Tenvoyoit a la mort, 
 Car aussitfit au bas du ventre 
 Une balle de mousquet entre 
 Sans respecter ce due nouveau, 
 Jeune, vaillant, adroit et beau, 
 
 Aussi ne put pas s empescher 
 Coude de lui donner des larmes 
 Et trahir le dieu des alarmes, 
 Ennemi de dame pitle ; 
 Mais ce furent pleurs d amitie 
 A cause de leur parentage . . ." 
 
 The collections of Mazarine.des for the year 1649, contain an Agree 
 able and true narrative of what happened before the taking of the king in 
 the city of Paris, where the author. puts in the mouth of the dying 
 Chatillon a discourse against Mazarin. We have again: 1st, The Re 
 grets of Madame de Chastillon on the death of her dear husband ; 
 2d, The Adieux made by M. de Chastillon, before dying, to his mother 
 and his wife ; 8d, The Apparition of the spirit of M. de Chastillon 
 to the Prince de Conde", etc. 
 
 34 
 
398 CHAPTER fV. 
 
 agree in their descriptions of the great grief into 
 which Conde was thrown by this death ; it animated 
 him still more against the Fronde. At the same time, 
 it showed the court the importance of terminating a 
 war which was sweeping so many brave men from 
 both sides, to the great joy of Spain ; and by showing 
 in this place the point of his sword, and by speaking 
 with firmness in that, he soon brought Paris and the 
 parliament to ask peace, and Mazarin to give one 
 which was humiliating to neither. He did not simply 
 obtain a % general amnesty ; he did more : he repre 
 sented that, in order to disarm the Fronde, it was 
 necessary to listen to its legitimate complaints, which 
 constituted its strength ; and that royalty once re 
 placed above all factions, it was wise to make it the 
 origin of all necessary ameliorations. Hence the 
 royal declaration of the 12th of March, 1649, 1 which 
 annulled all the measures taken by the parliament 
 during the preceding six months, which expelled the 
 envoy of Spain, placed all the civil and military 
 forces in the hands of the king, interdicted, during 
 the remainder of the year 1649, every general assem 
 bly of the parliament, but which promised that Paris 
 should see the return of the king, that the parliament 
 
 1 See Madame de Motteville, vol. Hi., p. 215. She confirmed the 
 declaration of February of the same year, and those of May and of 
 October, 1648. 
 
PEACE OF 1649. 
 
 should henceforth consult him in regard to extraor 
 dinary imposts, and that, if a treaty was made with 
 Spain, the parliament should choose one of its officers 
 to assist in its formation. The declaration said 
 nothing in regard to the nobility, for the very simple 
 reason that there was among them no general cause 
 to be satisfied, and that private interests alone de 
 manded attention. 
 
 It is amusing to read, in Madame de Motteville, 1 a 
 piece entitled: " Particular demands of Messieurs 
 the Generals and others interested. They each had, 
 at Saint-Germain, deputies who treated for them. 
 For example, the Duke de Beaufort was not content 
 ed with what had been privately offered to him. He 
 asked much, because his heart was still swollen by 
 the pride occasioned by the remembrance of his past 
 favor. He wished the ministry to reward him for 
 his chains and his imprisonment ; he spoke proudly ; 
 he declared loudly that he would not make terms 
 with Mazarin ; and, carrying his resentment farther 
 than others, he rendered the adjustment of his affairs 
 more difficult. . . . Madame de Montbazon, who was 
 beloved by the Duke de Beaufort, gave hopes that 
 she would at least please him, if she could have what 
 she desired. She obtained moneys and abbeys ; and 
 
 1 Vol. iii., p. 232, etc. 
 
400 CHAPTER iv. 
 
 the Duke de Beaufort, who loved her, was pleased 
 that this lady could profit by the inclination which 
 he had for her." 
 
 In short, every one was, or strove to be contented. 
 The Prince de Conti was the first who left Paris to 
 salute the queen. He was presented by Conde, who 
 made him embrace the Cardinal Mazarin. The 
 Prince de Conti, in his turn, presented the Duke de 
 Bouillon, La Eochefoucauld, the Count de Maure, 
 and many others. M. de Longueville, who had gone 
 to Normandy to arouse that province and its parlia 
 ment, did not delay to return to offer his homage, and 
 it was quite time for the beautiful and proud duchess 
 to show her submission. The scene is worth relating : 
 " I was alone," 1 says Madame de Motteville, " with 
 the queen, and she did me the honor to speak to me 
 of the embarrassment testified by the Duke de 
 Longueville in saluting her. As I knew that Mad 
 ame de Longueville was about to enter, I arose, for I 
 was on my knees beside her bed, and placed myself 
 near to the queen, resolved not to stir, but to discover 
 whether this witty princess would be more eloquent 
 than the prince her husband. As she was naturally 
 timid and apt to blush, all her care could not save 
 her from the embarrassment which she experienced 
 
 1 Vol. iii., p. 268. 
 
PEACE OF 1649. 401 
 
 on meeting the queen. I was sufficiently near to 
 these two illustrious persons to know what they 
 said ; but I heard nothing except Madame, and a few 
 words which she pronounced so low that the queen, 
 who listened attentively to what she would say, 
 could not comprehend a single sentence." 
 
 This same Madame de Motteville, so veracious 
 notwithstanding her benevolence, so difficult in ev 
 ery thing concerning the queen, her mistress, does 
 not hesitate to give to Conde the honor of the peace : 
 " We should not forget to observe here the disinter 
 ested firmness of M. the Prince, who, without con 
 sidering either his family or his friends, acted always 
 for the interests of the king." 1 
 
 It is true, for the memorable service which he had 
 just rendered, Conde reaped scarcely any benefit; 
 but his noble Conduct increased the splendor of his 
 last campaign of 1648 ; it added to his military 
 titles those of defender and saviour of the throne, of 
 pacificator of the kingdom, of arbiter and enlightened 
 conciliator of parties ; it gave the climax to his credit 
 and to his glory. Happy would it have been, if, after 
 having thus terminated this sad war, he had quitted 
 the court and its intrigues, to seek other battle-fields, 
 and to finish another war somewhat more useful and 
 
 Vol. iii., p. 209. 
 
 34* 
 
402 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 more glorious to France that which still remained 
 with Spain ! Happy also had been Madame de 
 Longueville, if, taught by her own conscience, in her 
 last interview with the queen, and by the shameful 
 denouement of the miserable intrigues of which she 
 had the secret, instead of still serving as their instru 
 ment, she had shown her courage in resisting them ; 
 if, after all the proofs of devotion which she had just 
 given to La Rochefoucauld, she had strongly repre 
 sented to him that, even for his own interest, a differ 
 ent course was necessary ; that it w T ould be better to 
 look for fortune and honors by making himself es 
 teemed, than by trying to be feared ; that ambition 
 as well as duty showed his place to be by the side of 
 Conde, in the service of the State and of the king ; 
 that it was easy for him to obtain in the army some 
 post, where he would have simply to march forward, 
 trusting to his courage and his merit ! But even if 
 she had been wise enough to speak thus to La Roche 
 foucauld, she would not have succeeded in gaining 
 his ear. This restless spirit, this ever-discontented 
 vanity, pursuing by turns the most dissimilar objects, 
 because it selected none within its reach, this inde 
 finable something, as Retz 1 says, which was in" La 
 Rochefoucauld, caused him to abandon the great 
 
 Portrait of La Eochefoucauld in Retz. Vol. i., p. 217. 
 
% PEACE OF 1649. 403 
 
 and straight roads, and led him into by-paths full of 
 precipices. The poor woman there follows him, and 
 aids him in his extravagant and guilty designs. Re 
 ceiving the law instead of giving it, she strives to pro 
 mote the passion of another by devoting to his service 
 all her coquetry and greatness of soul, her penetration 
 and intrepidity, her attractive sweetness and indomita 
 ble energy. She undertakes to mislead Conde, to take 
 away from France the conqueror of Rocroy and of 
 Lens, and to give him to Spain. But let us not an 
 ticipate these unhappy times. "We have now traced 
 the last glorious days of Conde and the first faults of 
 Madame de Longueville. Let us stop here ; let us 
 not enter upon the civil wars about to follow, impi 
 ous wars, in which the brother and the sister will 
 treasure up long remorse, in which the one will sig 
 nalize himself by exploits so deplorable, that he will 
 some day veil himself at Chantilly, for the sake of 
 his own glory and of France, and in which the other 
 will display the most brilliant qualities of mind, only 
 to weep for twenty-five years among the Carmelites 
 and at Port-Royal ! 
 
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