Birth of Louis de Bourbon, Duc d’Enghien (the Great
Condé)--His early years at the Château of Montrond--His
education--His personal appearance and character--Wealth of
the Condés--Life at Chantilly--Isabelle de Boutteville and
Marthe du Vigean--Tender attachment of the Duc d’Enghien and
Mlle. du Vigean--Subserviency of the Prince de Condé towards
Richelieu--He solicits for Enghien the hand of the Cardinal’s
niece, Claire-Clémence de Maillé-Brézé--The young prince
protests against the sacrifice demanded of him, but eventually
consents--He is presented to Mlle. de Maillé-Brézé--First
campaign of the Great Condé--He denies the rumour that he has
“no taste for his _fiancée_”--Fête at the Palais-Cardinal:
a ludicrous incident--Marriage of the Duc d’Enghien.
Voltaire has observed that the sole claim of the third Prince de Condé
to remembrance is that he begat one of France’s most famous generals.
To be just, he should have added that the claim is a twofold one,
inasmuch as not only was he the father of the Great Condé, but gave him
one of the most thorough military educations that prince ever received,
and but for which, though his fiery valour would doubtless have gained
him some distinction in the field, it is scarcely probable that he
would ever have earned the title of “_le Grand_.”
The birth of this shoot of the royal race was an event of importance,
for, after five years, the union of Louis XIII. with Anne of Austria
still remained without result, and the Duc d’Orléans, the King’s
younger brother, did not seem inclined to take a wife; but, at the
moment when it occurred, the attention of the Parisians was occupied by
the arrival of a Carmelite monk, Père Dominique de Jésus-Maria, to whom
miraculous powers were ascribed, and it passed almost unnoticed.
Condé was in his government of Berry when the news that he had a son
reached him, and, as soon as she was able to travel, _Madame la
Princesse_ set out for Bourges, to take the boy to his father. The
latter had already made up his mind as to the way in which his heir
was to be brought up. As the little prince was fragile and sickly, and
he dreaded for him the air of Paris, the cares of an over-indulgent
mother, and the influence of the fashionable ladies by whom the
princess was always surrounded, he had decided to break with tradition
and to establish him at the Château of Montrond, a fortified castle
belonging to him, situated at the confluence of the Marmande and the
Cher, overlooking the little town of Saint-Amand, where he would be
placed under the care of some intelligent women of the middle class,
who could be trusted to carry out his instructions with unquestioning
obedience.
Such an arrangement was naturally but little to the taste of _Madame
la Princesse_, who was indignant at being thus separated from her
son, but it was amply justified by the results. In the pure country air
the boy’s health steadily improved, while his intelligence was quickly
perceived to be far in advance of his age. No sooner did he begin to
speak than he displayed a remarkable strength of will, which resisted,
as far as a child can resist, the orders of his nurses; and they found
it no easy task to persuade him to rise, take his meals, or go to bed
at the hours which they considered good for him. He feared no one but
his father, and, when the latter was not at hand to correct him, it was
difficult to restrain him in anything.
On 2 May, 1626, the little prince, who assumed from that day the
title of Duc d’Enghien,[171] was taken to Bourges to be baptized,
the ceremony being performed, in solemn state, by the archbishop of
the diocese, Roland Hébert. But, save on this occasion, he was never
permitted to leave Montrond, where he led a healthy out-door life,
the lessons he received being frequently imparted under the guise of
games, so as to tax the mind as little as possible, while leaving the
most pleasant impression. He made astonishing progress, particularly in
Latin, and quickly began to evince the keenest interest in military
matters, the result of conversations with a distinguished engineer
named Sarrasin, who was then engaged in repairing the defences of
Montrond, and who superintended the boy’s amusements. “When, towards
the end of the year 1629,” writes the Duc d’Aumale, “the Prince de
Condé, returning from Languedoc, stopped at his Berry fortress, his
suite beheld with some surprise a young captain of seven, who ranged in
order of battle, in the trenches of the château, the children of the
neighbouring town of Saint-Amand, evoked the heroes of ancient Rome,
and harangued them in Latin.”
At the close of the following year, Condé removed his son from
Montrond to Bourges, to continue his studies at the Jesuit College
of Sainte-Marie, one of the most celebrated of the schools which the
Fathers had established in France. Wishing to avoid the complications
which might arise from the presence near his son of a man of quality,
he selected as his _gouverneur_, a simple gentleman of Dauphiné,
La Buffetière by name, “a good man, faithful, and well-intentioned,
who knew how to follow to the letter _Monsieur le Prince’s_
instructions for the conduct of his son.”[172] Associated with him,
as tutor to the prince, was a learned Jesuit, Père Pelletier; while a
doctor named Montreuil watched over his health, which was still such as
to occasion his father some anxiety.
For six years the Duc d’Enghien attended the Jesuit College at Bourges.
The only distinction which was made between him and the other pupils
was a little gilded balustrade which encircled his chair, and, by
_Monsieur le Prince’s_ orders, his schoolfellows were strictly
forbidden to give way to him, either in class or at play. Condé
himself, who, as governor of Berry, resided part of each year at
Bourges, watched over and directed the education of his son, examined
his compositions and the notes which he took at lectures, and made him
dance and play tennis before him. When absent at the Court or with the
Army, he corresponded regularly with the boy, and, the better to judge
of his progress, he directed him, after he was eight years old, always
to write to him in Latin. _Gouverneur_, tutor, and doctor were
kept busy replying to the letters full of questions, instructions, and
recommendations with which the anxious father bombarded them; whilst
the rector of the Jesuit College was perpetually being enjoined “to pay
attention to the studies and conduct of my son.”
The pains bestowed upon the Duc d’Enghien’s education were well repaid;
his progress delighted his instructors, and must have satisfied even
_Monsieur le Prince_. At twelve years of age, when he finished his
course of rhetoric, such was his proficiency in Latin that he wrote and
spoke it, we are told, as though it were his mother-tongue. The next
two years were devoted to the study of philosophy and the sciences,
which latter term included logic, ethics, mathematics, and physics,
after which Condé, notwithstanding that his son had already received an
education far in advance of that which was then considered sufficient
for the son of a _grand seigneur_, arranged that he should go
through a course of law under the direction of Merille, Professor of
Jurisprudence in the University of Bourges.
The vacations were passed at Montrond, to which the young prince
was permitted to invite some of his schoolfellows. But his tutors
and certain masters came also, and his studies were by no means
suspended, though physical training--lessons in dancing, fencing, and
riding--received the larger share of attention.
At the end of the year 1635, Condé judged that the time had come for
his son to lay aside the scholar’s gown, and accordingly the Duc
d’Enghien bade farewell to the Jesuits of Bourges and set out for
Paris, where he was presented to Louis XIII. After a short visit to his
mother at Saint-Maur, he set out for Dijon to join his father, who had
lately added the government of Burgundy to that of Berry, and remained
there until the beginning of the following year. He then returned to
Paris and entered the famous “Académie royale pour la jeune noblesse,”
established some years previously by a retired officer of the army,
named Benjamin, and recently transformed into a kind of military school
under the protection of Louis XIII. and Richelieu. Here he was
taught everything which concerned the profession of arms: geography,
mathematics, fortification, drawing, fencing, horsemanship, being
treated, by his father’s wishes, in every respect as the other young
noblemen, several of whom became his close friends, and in after years
shared his labours and his fame.
[Illustration: LOUIS I DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDÉ, (THE GREAT
CONDÉ)
FROM AN ENGRAVING BY JACQUES LUBIN]
After twelve months of earnest work, varied by short visits to
Saint-Maur, and a few appearances at the Court and in Society, the duke
quitted Benjamin’s academy, and in the spring of 1638, the Prince de
Condé having been called to the command of the army in Guienne, Louis
XIII. entrusted him with the government of Burgundy during his father’s
absence.
It was a very striking-looking, as well as a very learned, young man
who, one fine April morning, took his seat in the Parlement of Dijon,
“with every honour and testimony of affection possible.” “His eyes,”
writes a contemporary, “were blue and full of vivacity, his nose was
aquiline, his mouth very disagreeable, from being very large, and
his teeth too prominent. But in his countenance generally there was
something great and haughty, somewhat resembling an eagle. He was
not very tall, but his figure was admirably well-proportioned. He
danced well, had a pleasant expression, a noble air, and a very fine
head.”[173]
Unhappily for the Duc d’Enghien and for France, his father and his
teachers, while sparing no pains to develop his talents and to
strengthen his body, had not succeeded in correcting certain grave
defects of character, which, as he grew older, were to become more
pronounced and to end by tarnishing his fame. The lad was fearlessly
brave, open-handed, quick-witted, and full of energy and determination.
But he was haughty and overbearing, thoroughly selfish, and supremely
indifferent to the sufferings or susceptibilities of others, when he
had ends of his own to serve.
When the Prince de Condé had married Charlotte de Montmorency, he was,
for his rank, a poor man; but during the last few years the family had
become one of the wealthiest in France. The prince himself held the
rich governments of Berry and Burgundy, and several other offices, and
had received, at different times, immense sums from the Crown; while,
after the execution of the unfortunate Henri II., Duc de Montmorency,
for high treason, in 1632, the princess and her two elder sisters, the
Duchesses d’Angoulême and de Ventadour, had divided between them the
vast fortune of the Montmorencies.[174] To _Madame la Princesse_
fell the largest share of the landed property, including the estates
of Écouen, Mello, Châteauroux, Méru, and La Versine; while, some time
afterwards, Chantilly and Dammartin were also bestowed upon her, though
she appears to have been granted merely the enjoyment of them for life;
and it was not until the autumn of 1643 that they became the absolute
property of the Condés, in recognition of the military services of the
Duc d’Enghien.
Although the Princesse de Condé paid occasional visits to her country
seats of Mello, Méru, and La Versine, the greater part of the summer
was always passed by her at Chantilly, whither she came with a little
party composed of the most intimate friends of her children, and a
sprinkling of wits and men of letters. _Monsieur le Prince_, who
did not care for country pleasures, usually remained in Paris, and,
in his absence, etiquette was laid aside, and the guests permitted to
amuse themselves as they pleased. Lenet, in his “Mémoires,” has left
us an interesting account of how the company at Chantilly passed their
time:
“The excursions were the most agreeable possible to imagine. The
evenings were not less amusing. After the usual prayers had been
read in the chapel, which were attended by every one, all the ladies
retired to the apartments of the princess, where they played at various
games and sang. There were often fine voices and very agreeable
conversations, stories of Court intrigue and gallantry, which made life
pass as pleasantly as possible.... Rhymes and riddles were composed,
which occupied the time in spare hours. Some were to be seen walking on
the edge of the ponds, and some in the alleys of the park or gardens,
on the terrace or on the lawn, alone or in parties, according to the
state of mind in which they were; while others sang airs, or recited
verses, or read romances on a balcony, or as they walked or reposed
on the grass. Never was there seen so beautiful a place in such a
beautiful season.”[175]
Lenet wrote of the spring of 1650, when the Princes (Condé, Conti and
Longueville) were in prison, and Madame de Longueville an exile, and
when, as he admits, the amusements of the young people were often
disturbed by bad news. But before the Fronde, which divided all French
society, Chantilly was an even more delightful resort. The young Duc
d’Enghien came there, bringing with him many of the young nobles who
had been his friends at Benjamin’s Academy, and who were to fight
by his side on many a fiercely-contested field; the two sons of the
Maréchal Duc de Châtillon, Maurice, Comte de Coligny, and Gaspard,
Marquis d’Andelot; Guy de Laval, son of the Marquis de Sablé; Léon
d’Angennes, Marquis de Pisani; Louis and Charles Amédée de Savoie, who
successively bore the title of Duc de Nemours; La Moussaye, the hero
of the battle of La Marfée; the two du Vigeans, Nangis, Tavannes, and
others, amongst whom grew up a little hump-backed boy, who was one day
to be known to fame as the Maréchal de Luxembourg.
And there also was Enghien’s lovely sister, Anne Geneviève de Bourbon,
who, in 1642, was to marry the Duc de Longueville, and with her a bevy
of young beauties, light-hearted, laughter-loving damsels, bandying
jests with the wits, rallying the more serious, and exercising, under
the indulgent eyes of _Madame la Princesse_, their precocious
coquetry upon the Duc d’Enghien and his comrades. Among them may
be mentioned Marie Antoinette de Brienne, daughter of the Minister
of that name, afterwards the Marquise de Gamaches; the two sisters
of the future Maréchal de Luxembourg, Marie Louise and Isabelle de
Boutteville; the celebrated Julie d’Angennes, afterwards Duchesse de
Montausier; and Anne and Marthe du Vigean, the former of whom married
the Marquis de Pons, and _en secondes noces_ the young Duc de
Richelieu, the Cardinal’s heir.
Of these nymphs, two--Isabelle de Boutteville and Marthe du
Vigean--were destined to figure very prominently in the life of
the Great Condé. They presented a singular contrast. Isabelle de
Boutteville, who, under the name of the Duchesse de Châtillon, was to
achieve celebrity as the most finished coquette of her time, was an
imperious young beauty, who already appreciated to the full the power
of her own attractions. Insatiable for admiration, she disdained no
conquests, encouraging and rebuffing by turns the troop of adorers who
gathered about her, and rehearsing thus early with the Duc d’Enghien
and the younger of the two boys who were to bear the title of Duc de
Nemours the part she was one day to play with them on another stage.
None of the young beauties of Chantilly, with the exception of Mlle.
de Bourbon, inspired the poets who foregathered there to celebrate
their charms and deplore their coldness more often than she. Among a
multitude of verses of more or less merit, composed in her honour, may
be mentioned those of the poet Charpy, wherein he draws an ingenious
comparison between the destruction wrought by the sword of his father,
the notorious duellist, and the havoc created by the _beaux yeux_
of Isabelle:
“Quand je vois de rapport de votre père à vous,
Divinité mortelle, adorable Sylvie!
Il tenait dans ses mains et la mort et la vie:
Vos yeux se sont acquis les mêmes sur nous.”
Marthe du Vigean was a very different kind of girl. Modest and gentle,
she hardly seemed to be aware of the admiration which she aroused:
“Sans savoir ce que c’est qu’amour
Ses beaux yeux le mettent au jour,
Et partout elle le fait naître
Sans le connoître,”
wrote Voiture. Unfortunately, no portrait of her, either painted or
engraved, has been preserved, nor have we any detailed description
of her among the writings of her contemporaries which can supply
its place. But her beauty would appear to have been of a peculiarly
appealing type, the reflection of a character gentle, pure and
unselfish.
In love, it is said, people are most frequently attracted by those
who least resemble them. However that may be, the haughty, vain,
egotistical young Duc d’Enghien, for a moment subjugated by the more
dazzling charms of Isabelle de Boutteville, to whose yoke he will
return in years to come, speedily transferred his affections to this
gentle, retiring maiden, for whom he conceived the one great and pure
passion of his stormy life. The girl reciprocated his affections, and
loved him with an intensity of devotion which never wavered for a
moment to her life’s end. To her, this young prince, with his eagle
glance and his fiery courage, was a veritable hero of romance, a
seventeenth-century Bayard, “_sans peur et sans reproche_.”
Although not in the first rank of the French nobility, the Du Vigeans
were high in favour at Court, and Madame du Vigean was one of _Madame
la Princesse’s_ most intimate friends. She was very rich and gave
magnificent fêtes at her country-seat of La Barre, and Marthe was a
considerable heiress. In ordinary circumstances, therefore, the Duc
d’Enghien might not have despaired of obtaining his father’s and the
King’s--that is to say, Richelieu’s--consent to the match, for the
princes of the House of Bourbon had often sought their wives among the
daughters of noble and wealthy French families. But, unhappily for the
lovers, _Monsieur le Prince_ had other views for his son, and had
long since selected a wife for him.
Among the courtiers who so eagerly sought the favour of Richelieu no
one was more obsequious than the Prince de Condé, who had not only
willingly consented, contrary to all ancient usage, that the Princes
of the Blood should yield precedence to cardinals, but had even, it
is asserted, carried his servility to such a point as to raise the
tapestry and hold it when the all-powerful Minister passed through a
door. Omnipotent though Richelieu was, he could hardly have flattered
himself with the hope of an alliance with the Princes of the Blood; and
it must therefore have been with feelings of astonishment and contempt
mingling with gratification that “he beheld M. de Condé ask of him
almost on his knees the hand of his niece, and plead for this object
as eagerly as though he had in view for his son the sovereignty of the
world.”[176]
The niece in question was Claire-Clémence de Maillé-Brézé, daughter of
the Maréchal Duc de Brézé, who had married “solely for her beauty,”
as he was never tired of reminding the Cardinal, Richelieu’s pretty
but eccentric sister, Nicole du Plessis. Born on 28 February, 1628,
Claire-Clémence’s infancy was passed with her parents at the Château of
Milly, in Anjou. But when the unfortunate Nicole’s eccentricity turned
to madness,[177] and the marshal began to console himself openly with
the widow of one of his _valets de chambre_, the Cardinal decided
that it was time to remove his niece; and, in 1633, took advantage of
an epidemic which was then ravaging Anjou to send her to the Château
des Caves, near Nogent-sur-Seine, to the Bouthilliers, whose fortune he
had made, and who were entirely devoted to him.
It is probable that Richelieu would not have shown himself so
solicitous for the welfare of the little girl had he not already
foreseen that she would become an instrument of his policy. In point
of fact, most flattering proposals for her hand had already been made
him. The first was from the Duc de la Trémoille, on behalf of his
eldest son, afterwards the Prince de Tarente; and the Cardinal appears
to have been on the point of returning a favourable answer, when the
Prince de Condé intervened and solicited the hand of this child of four
for the Duc d’Enghien, then twelve years of age.
So anxious was _Monsieur le Prince_ to be reconciled with the
Minister whom he had failed to conquer, and to convert his former
adversary into a complaisant ally--or rather a beneficent patron, that
he had already taken the precaution to assure himself of the consent
of Louis XIII. The Cardinal, on his side, who saw in this union the
most dazzling proof of his influence and of the triumph of his policy,
received his Highness’s overtures very graciously, and, early in 1633,
gave him the promise he desired.
The joy of _Monsieur le Prince_ was such that Richelieu had
all the difficulty in the world to prevent him from confirming the
rumours of the Court and publicly announcing his good fortune; but the
Cardinal insisted that it should remain a secret between them until the
bride-elect had reached a marriageable age, and, very reluctantly, the
other consented. As for the Maréchal de Brézé, Richelieu did not even
think it worth while to mention the arrangement to him, deeming that
the right of disposing of his niece’s hand belonged to himself alone.
Thus matters remained until the end of the year 1640, when Condé,
having gone through the form of obtaining the consent of the Maréchal
de Brézé, acquainted his son with the honour in store for him. The
Duc d’Enghien, as might be supposed, protested strongly against the
sacrifice that was demanded of him, but _Monsieur le Prince_,
always terribly in earnest when it was a question of pleasing those
in power, was inexorable; and eventually the duke gave a reluctant
consent, somewhat consoled by the reflection that, as the Cardinal’s
nephew by marriage, advancement in his profession must be both sure and
speedy.
Under date 11 February, 1640, we find Condé writing to Richelieu from
Dijon:
“My son, who burns with the same desire as myself to be allied to you,
will write to you on the instant, and will set out with me to-morrow
for Paris, to offer his services to his mistress. I have spoken to
him about it, and have received from him not only the proofs of the
obedience that he owes me, but also those of very great joy on this
subject.”[178]
The Duchesse d’Aiguillon, the Cardinal’s beloved niece, conducted
Mlle. de Brézé to Paris, where the Duc d’Enghien and his father
arrived shortly afterwards. The young duke was “presented to his
mistress,” as was said then, and authorized to visit and to write to
her, while awaiting their marriage, which, much to the disappointment
of _Monsieur le Prince_, Richelieu had decided to postpone until
the following year, on account of the extreme youthfulness of the
bride-elect.
The Prince de Condé overwhelmed Claire-Clémence with attentions and
declared that he was all impatience to call her his daughter-in-law. On
presenting her _fiancé_ to her, he assured her “it would never be
possible for her to espouse a person who would show her more respect or
more affection;” and when Enghien was about to take the armchair that
was offered him, he stopped him, saying sharply: “That is not the place
for a _serviteur_; go and sit down on a little _placet_ with
your mistress.”[179]
Nothing less than the paternal exhortations were required to persuade
the young duke to pay his court to his betrothed, and, in point of
fact, he limited his visits to those which the exigencies of etiquette
required. Claire-Clémence was “far from plain; she had beautiful eyes,
a fine complexion, and a pretty figure.”[180] But she was barely twelve
years old, and very small even for her years, and, besides, so childish
in her ways that _la Grande Mademoiselle_ declares that two years
after her marriage she still amused herself with dolls. Very young men
are more often attracted by ripe than by immature charms, and it was
therefore scarcely to be expected that Enghien should have shown any
inclination for the society of his betrothed--even if his affections
had not been already engaged elsewhere.
Little time, however, was given the young people for becoming better
acquainted with one another, as other matters than courtship and
marriage were demanding Enghien’s attention. Since 1635 war had been
declared against Spain, and France had come openly into that field
in which her secret influence had long been exercised. The clash of
arms which resounded throughout Europe had strongly affected the young
prince, and he had long sighed for an opportunity of displaying his
courage. So early as 1636 he had written to his father: “I read with
pleasure the heroic actions of our kings in history.... I feel a holy
ambition to imitate them and follow in their track, when my age and
capabilities shall have made me what you wish.”[181] Condé, however,
thinking that his son’s strength was not yet equal to the hardships of
active service, had hitherto refused to gratify his ambition; but, in
the spring of 1640, he at length gave his consent, and, at the end of
April, the lad set out for Picardy to make his first campaign with the
army operating against the Spaniards on the North-Eastern frontier.
He was greatly disappointed that he was not to receive his baptism of
fire under the eyes of his father, who commanded the French forces
in Roussillon. But Richelieu had chosen the Army of Picardy, because
its commander, the Maréchal de la Meilleraie, was the sworn enemy of
_Monsieur le Prince_, and might, consequently, be trusted neither
to allow the young soldier to shirk his duties nor to exaggerate his
services. To mitigate his disappointment, the Cardinal overwhelmed his
future nephew with compliments, and presented him with two splendid
chargers.
This first campaign of the Great Condé was short and easy, terminating
on 9 August with the taking of Arras. The young soldier earned golden
opinions from all his superiors by the promptitude and intelligence
with which he executed everything entrusted to him, and gave abundant
proofs of the courage for which he was soon to become so celebrated in
a cavalry skirmish before the beleaguered town.
The campaign over, the duke, by his father’s instructions, returned to
Dijon without passing through Paris, to the great chagrin of his sister
and her friends, who were naturally anxious to celebrate his exploits.
But _Monsieur le Prince_, like a prudent father, had decided
that, until his son was safely married, it would be as well for him
to shun the society of those dangerously fascinating damsels, and of
one of them in particular. The Cardinal, unaware that Enghien had been
merely following the paternal orders, saw in this avoidance of Paris a
confirmation of the persistent rumour that was going about the Court
that the young prince “had no taste for his _fiancée_.” In high
indignation, he despatched Chavigny to Dijon, to invite him to explain
his conduct and to say candidly whether or no he desired the alliance
which his father had solicited for him. There can be very little doubt
what answer Enghien would have returned had circumstances permitted him
to express his real sentiments; but, with the fear of both the Cardinal
and _Monsieur le Prince_ before his eyes, he indignantly denied
the truth of the report that was in circulation, and begged Chavigny to
assure his Eminence that his heart was entirely set upon the marriage.
“I feel myself obliged to inform you,” he writes to his father, “that
M. de Chavigny came yesterday to see me and told me that he had
something of importance to say to me. It is that a gentleman had told
him that a rumour ran that I had no inclination for Mlle. de Brézé;
that I regarded this marriage with aversion, and that people remarked
that my countenance was very melancholy, and, finally, that he begged
me to be on my guard. I replied that the person who had told him this
was a wicked man, as were those who circulated these false reports;
that I looked upon this marriage as a great honour and favour; that it
was the thing in the world that you and I desired the most, and that
all those who spread these reports were his enemies and mine, and that,
far from being melancholy, I had never been so gay.”[182]
Notwithstanding these indignant protestations, the Cardinal, who, while
naturally very anxious for a marriage which would connect him with
the Royal House itself and serve to consolidate his power, was anxious
also to assure the happiness of his niece, was still somewhat uneasy.
In consequence, he showed himself a trifle cold when the marriage was
mentioned, to the profound alarm of _Monsieur le Prince_, who
redoubled his attentions both to his Eminence and his niece, and was as
impatient for the conclusion of the affair “as if his son were about to
espouse the queen of all the world.”
The marriage was finally fixed for 11 February, 1641. Early in January,
the Duc d’Enghien arrived in Paris with his father, who accompanied
him everywhere he went, apparently from fear lest he should fail to
manifest sufficient enthusiasm for the fate in store for him. Mlle.
de Brézé had already arrived and was lodged at the Hôtel d’Aiguillon,
in charge of Madame Bouthillier; and, on 14 January, Richelieu gave a
magnificent fête in honour of the young couple at the Palais-Cardinal.
The principal attraction of this entertainment was the representation
of “Mirame,” a “_tragi-comédie_” which his Eminence had written
in collaboration with Desmarets. Richelieu had spared no expense to
give his work--which was probably neither better nor worse than the
mediocre pieces of the time--a setting in every way worthy of it. The
theatre, constructed expressly for it, had cost 200,000 écus; the
scenery had been brought from Italy, and the costumes had been designed
by the Cardinal himself. All the effective passages in the play were
rapturously applauded by the spectators, which is scarcely surprising,
since the celebrated author, carried away by admiration for his own
genius, invariably gave them the signal; and if the fall of the curtain
did not leave his Eminence under the pleasing illusion that he was not
only a great statesman, but a great poet as well, it was certainly not
the fault of his guests.
The play was followed by a grand ball, in which the little Mlle. de
Brézé appeared in a marvellous toilette and decorated with a part of
the Queen’s jewels, which her Majesty had lent her for the occasion.
_Monsieur le Prince_, who, with some of his intimates, watched the
scene from the gallery, pretended to be in raptures of admiration, and
every time that his future daughter-in-law danced, kept repeating: “Ah!
how pretty she is! Ah! how pretty she is!” It is to be hoped that the
report of these praises served to console their object for a trifling
but ludicrous mishap of which she was the victim, and which must have
occasioned her profound mortification.
She had come to the fête furnished with a pair of enormously
high-heeled shoes, which she had been made to don in order to increase
her stature, which, as we have said, was very short, even for her
years. It was only with the greatest difficulty that she was able to
preserve her equilibrium, and, while dancing a _courante_, she
slipped and fell sprawling on the floor. _La Grande Mademoiselle_,
who recounts this misadventure, declares that “no considerations
of respect could hinder all the company from giving vent to their
merriment, not even excepting the Duc d’Enghien.”[183]
On 7 February, the marriage-contract was signed in the King’s cabinet
at the Louvre, as was the custom when Princes of the Blood were wed.
The Prince and Princesse de Condé promised the young couple settlements
to the value of 80,000 livres a year and an annual pension of 40,000
livres. His Eminence gave his niece the seigneuries of Ansac, Moy,
Cambronne, and Plessis-Billebault, together with the sum of 300,000
livres, but under the express condition that she should renounce all
claim to the rest of his property in the event of his death.
“It was impossible,” observe Claire-Clémence’s biographers, MM. Homberg
and Jousselin, “to manifest more clearly, in the eyes of all, that
the niece of Richelieu had been sought by the House of Condé, less
for wealth, which was by no means out of the ordinary, than for the
advantages of a connexion with him whom the courtiers called “the
All-powerful.”[184]
The stipulation regarding Richelieu’s property greatly disgusted
_Monsieur le Prince_, who was as greedy as he was ambitious; and,
though he had not ventured to contest the matter with the Cardinal, he
made, together with his son, a formal protest, in the presence of a
notary, against the renunciation exacted by his Eminence.
After the signing of the contract, Richelieu gave a magnificent ballet
at the Palais-Cardinal, entitled “La Prospérité des armes de France.”
This ballet, we are told, delighted every one save the King, who
appeared to be displeased at the sight of the Duc d’Enghien descending
from heaven, surrounded by dazzling sunbeams, to make his entry.
On 11 February, the marriage was celebrated in the chapel of
Palais-Cardinal, by the Archbishop of Paris. After the ceremony,
the bridal pair and their relatives were entertained to a sumptuous
banquet, and in the evening a play, followed by a supper, was given by
Richelieu at the Palais-Cardinal. “Never had his Eminence been seen in
a better temper,”[185] writes a witness of the marriage fêtes, on which
the Cardinal is said to have expended upwards of a million livres.
Supper over, the company adjourned to the Hôtel de Condé, to put the
bridal pair to bed, according to custom.