Condé proceeds to Bordeaux, where he is rejoined by his
relatives--He opens the campaign with success, but is soon
obliged to remain on the defensive--Return of Mazarin--Condé
on the Loire--Battle of Bléneau--He leaves his army and
proceeds to Paris--His futile negotiations--Battle of the
Faubourg Saint-Antoine--Massacre of the Hôtel de Ville--The
Fronde grows daily more discredited--Condé quits Paris and
joins the Spaniards on the Flemish frontier--The Fronde at
Bordeaux--Sanguinary affrays between the _Ormée_ and the
_Chapeau Rouge_--Courage and presence of mind displayed
by the Princesse de Condé and Madame de Longueville in
separating the combatants--Surrender of Bordeaux--The princess
sails for Flanders to rejoin her husband--Her reception at
Valenciennes--She is cruelly neglected by Condé--She removes
from Valenciennes to Malines--Her miserable existence--Condé
applies to the Spanish Court for financial assistance--Brilliant
military qualities displayed by him in the service of his
country’s enemies--The princess gives birth to a daughter--Peace
of the Pyrenees--Return of Condé and his wife to France.
The fatal resolution once taken, Condé acted with his customary vigour
and decision. He despatched Lenet to Madrid to conclude a treaty
with Spain; wrote to his staunch adherent, the Comte de Marsin, who
commanded in Catalonia, begging him to join him in Guienne with all
the troops he could induce to follow him, and directed his brother and
sister and the Duc de Nemours to proceed to Bourges and endeavour to
incite that town and the whole of Berry to revolt. Then, accompanied
by La Rochefoucauld, he set out for Bordeaux, which he had resolved to
make his headquarters.
Condé was received at Bordeaux with transports of joy, and the town
and the greater part of the province at once rose in revolt. But
Madame de Longueville and Conti failed entirely in the task entrusted
to them, and, on the approach of the royal army, were obliged to
retire to Montrond, where _Madame la Princesse_ and her son had
remained, and subsequently to Bordeaux. A much more severe blow to the
prince’s cause was the defection of Turenne, upon whose support he had
confidently counted, but who, together with his brother, the Duc de
Bouillon, had decided to throw in his lot with the Court. Nevertheless,
he resolved to take the offensive, and for a while carried all before
him in the South-West. But his forces were much inferior in number to
the Royalists, and by the end of the year he was obliged to fall back
to the Garonne.
The sudden reappearance of Mazarin upon the scene in the following
January reanimated the hopes of the prince, and appeared to give
new strength to his party. The Parlement, which, on 4 December,
had issued a decree proclaiming _Monsieur le Prince_ and his
principal adherents “attainted and convicted of high treason and
_lèse-majesté_,” now voted that this sentence should be suspended
and renewed its old decrees against the Cardinal. Gaston d’Orléans,
with whom the prince had been for some time past negotiating, believing
that he had been the dupe of the Queen, concluded an alliance with him,
and, shortly afterwards, most of the Frondeurs also declared for Condé.
Towards the end of March, Condé, having entrusted the government of
Guienne to his brother, Conti, assisted by a council composed of
_Madame la Princesse_, Madame de Longueville, Lenet, Marsin, and
the Président Viole, set out to take command of the Frondeurs on the
Loire. After an adventurous journey, in which he only escaped capture
by a miracle, he reached the army in safety, and falling upon the
division of the royal forces commanded by Hocquincourt, completely
routed it. But his attack on Turenne’s position failed, and, shortly
afterwards, he quitted his army and set out for Paris, with the
object of inducing the capital to espouse his cause. Here, he found
his beloved Madame de Châtillon, and, largely through her influence,
“allowed himself to be drawn into an abyss of negotiations of which
one never saw the bottom.”[201] These negotiations led to no result,
and, in the absence of their chief, the Frondeur army suffered a severe
reverse at Étampes, where it was suddenly attacked by Turenne. Nor
did he secure the adhesion of the capital, for, though the populace
espoused his cause, the better-class citizens stood aloof.
At length, at the end of June, Condé, comprehending the fatal error
he had committed in leaving the field to engage in futile intrigues,
and of having preferred the counsels of an avaricious mistress[202]
to those of his best friends, left Paris to resume the command of
his weakened and disheartened forces. It was too late. Forced back
upon Paris by superior numbers, he was obliged to fight the bloody
combat of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, which would probably have ended
in the total destruction of the rebel army, had not _la Grande
Mademoiselle_, by dint of tears and supplications, wrested an order
from her irresolute father to open the gates to the hard-pressed
Frondeurs and for the cannon of the Bastille to cover their retreat (2
July).
Two days later, a ferocious mob, among which are said to have been
many of Condé’s soldiers, disguised as artisans, attacked the Hôtel de
Ville, where some three hundred delegates from the clergy, magistracy,
and the various parishes were assembled in conclave, murdered several
of them, and set the building on fire. This atrocious act, worthy of
the worst days of the League, had the effect of terrifying the city
into submission to Condé, but, at the same time, proved the death-blow
of the Fronde, since all save the refuse of the people were filled with
horror and loathing for a party which sought to compass its ends by
such means. Every day saw the prince’s followers falling away from him
and the desire for peace growing stronger; and the skilful effacement
of Mazarin, who, on 19 August, left Pontoise and retired into a second
and voluntary exile at Bouillon, and afterwards at Sedan, removed the
only pretext for continuing the war. Condé attempted to negotiate, but
was informed that no proposal from him would be considered until he had
laid down his arms, disbanded his troops, and renounced his alliance
with Spain; and, at length, on 13 October, disdaining to accept the
general amnesty which had been proclaimed, but finding his position in
the capital no longer tenable, he left Paris with the few troops which
still remained faithful to him and joined the Spaniards on the Flemish
frontier. A week later, Louis XIV. and Anne of Austria made their entry
into the city amid general rejoicings, and in the following February
Mazarin returned in triumph, to remain until the hour of his death the
absolute ruler of France.
The Fronde of Bordeaux survived the Fronde in Paris by nearly ten
months. Its chief feature was the bitter struggle between the advanced
and moderate parties among the citizens. The former, recruited from
the lower middle-class and the populace, desired to carry on the war
_à outrance_, and was quite ready for an alliance with Spain,
England, or half Europe for that matter. Its most violent spirits
held republican views, which had been fostered by recent events in
England, and, imitating the League or anticipating the Jacobins, formed
themselves into a regular society, called, from its favourite place
of assembly--a little terrace bordered by elms in the environs of the
town--the _Ormée_, and persecuted with the utmost virulence all
whom they suspected of hostility to the popular cause. The latter,
which comprised the great majority of the better-class citizens,
though hostile in general to the Court and Mazarin, were desirous of
keeping the insurrectionary movement within bounds, and looked with
marked disapproval on Condé’s negotiations with Spain. To resist the
tyranny of the _Ormée_, they organized themselves into a kind of
aristocratic league, which was called, from the fashionable quarter of
the town, the _Chapeau Rouge_. Sanguinary encounters between the
two factions were of frequent occurrence, and, but for the courage and
presence of mind of the Princesse de Condé and Madame de Longueville,
who, at great personal risk, repeatedly intervened to separate the
infuriated combatants, Bordeaux would have become a shambles.
On one occasion, we read that _Madame la Princesse_, “_fort
allumée de colère_,” vowed that the next time there was a breach of
the peace, she would, notwithstanding that she was with child,[203]
place herself at the head of those who obeyed her, and cause the
offenders to be cut to pieces.[204] Scarcely, however, had she and
Madame de Longueville withdrawn, than the _Ormistes_, undismayed
by this terrible threat, stormed the Hôtel de Ville and held it
throughout the night. In the morning, flushed with success, they
marched in great force upon the Quartier du Chapeau Rouge, and attacked
the house of a certain M. Pichon, a president of the Parlement, who
appears to have been the object of their peculiar animosity. Unhappily
for them, M. Pichon had received warning of their intentions, and had
taken the precaution to convert his residence into a kind of fortress,
from which a withering fire of musketry was opened on the besiegers.
Exasperated by their losses, the _Ormistes_ proceeded to storm
and set fire to the neighbouring houses; reinforcements came up
rapidly on both sides, and it seemed as though the whole town would
be delivered up to fire and blood. So fierce was the fighting that it
appeared hopeless for the princesses to intervene; but, at length, they
bethought themselves of a happy expedient. Hastening to the curé of
the Church of Saint-Messan, they ordered him to accompany them to the
scene of the fray, bearing the Holy Sacrament, preceded by the cross
and candles. The _cortège_ advanced into the very midst of the
combatants, who desisted, vanquished by the courage and presence of
mind of these young women.
On 23 July, 1653, Bordeaux surrendered on honourable terms, the troops
which Marsin had brought from Catalonia being permitted to join Condé,
and a full pardon being granted to the inhabitants, with the exception
of the leaders of the _Ormée_, one of whom was executed.
The most generous offers were made by Mazarin to _Madame la
Princesse_, on condition that she should remain in France and
separate her interests from those of her husband. But, ever constant to
her duty, Claire-Clémence declined them, and announced her intention
of rejoining Condé. On 3 August, accompanied by the Duc d’Enghien
and the faithful Lenet, she sailed for Flanders on board a Spanish
ship-of-war. Her health had been so much affected by the trials and
anxieties of the last few months that her physicians assured her
that she would not survive the voyage; but, happily, these gloomy
prognostications were not realized, and on 26 August she landed safely
at Dunkerque. Thence she journeyed slowly, by way of Nieuport, Bruges,
Ghent, and Oudenarde, to Valenciennes, where, by her husband’s orders,
she took up her residence.
By order of the Viceroy of the Netherlands, she was received everywhere
with royal honours and the most splendid hospitality. At Valenciennes,
the governor, the municipal authorities, and all the nobility of the
surrounding country, came to pay her homage, and to compliment her
on her heroic Odyssey from Bordeaux. The Viceroy did everything in
his power to amuse her, and sent from Brussels a company of actors,
who gave before the illustrious exile a series of performances, in a
theatre constructed specially for the occasion.
The consideration and sympathy with which strangers were so eager to
surround the princess presented a striking contrast to the coldness and
indifference of her husband. After all that she had done and suffered
for his sake, she might well have expected to receive from him some
proof of affection, or at least, of respect. But for eight months after
her arrival he never once condescended to visit her, and, to add to the
mortification which she must have felt, he deprived her of her son, who
had never yet left her, whom he sent to the Jesuit College at Namur.
At last, at the end of June, 1654, he sent orders to her to meet him
at Mons. They passed one night together at an inn in the town, and on
the morrow separated again, the husband proceeding to Brussels and the
army, the wife returning to Valenciennes.
At the beginning of September, the approach of the French obliged
_Madame la Princesse_ to quit Valenciennes and seek another
asylum. She chose Malines, where she installed herself at the Hôtel
Hoogstratin. In spite of the fine promises which had been made by
the Viceroy, she did not receive any assistance from the Government
and soon found herself in terrible straits. The meagre sums sent her
at rare intervals by Condé, who was himself in scarcely better case,
were quite insufficient to defray the expenses of her Household, and
she was obliged to dismiss the greater number of her attendants and to
dispose successively of the few jewels she had kept, less for their
value than for the associations connected with them, of her horses and
carriages, and, finally, of part of her wardrobe. Sometimes she and her
servants were even in need of food, for her _maître d’hôtel_ had
the greatest difficulty in obtaining credit from the humble tradesmen
of the town.
The princess continued this wretched existence for several years. She
rarely saw her son, but received occasional visits from her husband,
an honour for which she seems to have been indebted to the fact that
Condé was no longer able to spend his leisure at Brussels, where he
was in debt to every one. “I am in such disrepute with the tradesmen,”
he writes, under date 28 October, 1655, to the Comte de Fiesque, his
envoy at Madrid, “that they look upon me as a bankrupt. I borrow in
every direction, and I pay no one back.” And, a month later: “I doubt
if I shall dare to return to Brussels, on account of the multitude of
creditors of all kinds whom I have there.... My wife and my son are
accustoming themselves to live on air.”
When, on 2 January, 1656, Condé arrived at Malines, he found his
unfortunate wife without a fire in her room, and learned that the
exasperated landlady of the inn had just caused the princess’s
_maître d’hôtel_ to be thrown into prison. Moved with pity,
despite his egoism, by the wretched condition to which his conduct
had reduced this courageous and devoted woman, he humbled his pride
sufficiently to write to Don Luis de Haro, Prime Minister of Spain,
to demand assistance. “Finally, Monsieur,” he writes, “I beg your
Excellency to consider that without prompt pecuniary assistance it will
be impossible for me to continue my services to the King with honour
and usefulness.... I beg you to inform me what his Catholic Majesty
wishes me to become; for, so long as I have no money, as my troops
are without recruits and without remounts, as my general-officers are
without a sol, as my fortresses are dismantled, as all my friends
are in poverty, as I myself, my wife, and my son are in a continual
beggary, I cannot be capable of rendering service to his Majesty in
such a condition.”[205]
Condé certainly had every claim upon the gratitude of the Spanish
Court, for in the service of the enemies of his country he displayed
the most rare qualities. As a general, he compelled the admiration
of all by his courage, energy, and foresight. His masterly retreat
on Mons, after the raising of the siege of Arras, whereby he saved
the routed Spaniards from complete destruction, must rank as one of
his finest feats of arms, and scarcely less brilliant were his relief
of Cambrai and the manner in which he forced Turenne’s lines before
Valenciennes. Badly seconded by the Spanish Government, who furnished
him neither with subsidies nor capable generals, he was obliged to give
his personal attention to everything. He superintended the recruiting
of his armies, their provisioning, their encampments, descended even to
the most trifling details, and led the life of the soldier, sharing his
privations that he might communicate to him his energy.
As the result of the visit paid by Condé to Malines at the beginning of
1656, in the following spring _Madame la Princesse_ found herself
again in an interesting condition. The approach of this event added to
the poor woman’s anxieties, for she could not but feel many misgivings
as to the fate reserved for a child to be born in exile, the offspring
of a rebel prince, who had been deprived, by a decree of the Parlement,
even of the name of Bourbon. She was, besides, much disquieted by
the prospect of the privations which it might be required to face at
Malines, in that inn where she was reduced to live so miserably. She
accordingly took counsel with the faithful Lenet, and, on his advice,
decided to petition Louis XIV. and Mazarin for permission to return to
France, and, at the same time, to appeal to the Parlement of Paris and
her relatives to make intercession on her behalf. But the touching
letters which she addressed to the King and the Minister were without
result; she was merely informed that circumstances did not lend
themselves to her return to France, and her only recource was to have
a protest drawn up by Flemish lawyers, “in order that her accouchement
out of France might not be laid to her charge, nor prejudice the child
which would be born of her pregnancy.”
In November, 1656, the Princesse de Condé gave birth, contrary to all
her hopes, to a daughter, who was baptized Louise. While this little
girl was still only a few months old, Jeanne Baptiste de Bourbon,
Abbess of Fontevrault, wrote to Condé, offering her the succession to
her abbey. The prince thanked the abbess for her good intentions, but
suggested that it would be preferable to wait for better times, and
that it was, besides, rather early to make his daughter a nun. The
little princess did not assume the cross and mitre, since she died
before she was three years old.
The campaign of 1657, which opened with Condé’s brilliant relief of
Cambrai, closed with the loss of Mardyke and other places, for the
incurable indolence of the Spanish generals hampered the prince at
every turn. England had now formed an alliance with France, and, in the
following year, the Spaniards, having, against the advice of Condé,
marched against the allies, who were besieging Dunkerque, sustained a
crushing defeat in the battle of the Dunes. This disaster, followed by
the capitulation of Dunkerque and the invasion of Flanders by Turenne,
decided Philip IV. to make peace; and, on 24 November, 1657, the Treaty
of the Pyrenees brought the long war to a close.
It closed also the exile and disgrace of Condé, who, thanks to the
firmness of Spain, was not only permitted to return to France,
but re-established in possession of all his property, honours and
dignities, with the exception of the governments of Guienne and Berry,
and the charge of Grand Master of the King’s Household, which he was to
surrender to the Duc d’Enghien, retaining, however, the reversion of
the post. In return for Philip IV.’s cession of Jülich to the Duke of
Neuburg and of the fortress of Avesnes to France, Louis XIV. conferred
upon Condé the government of Burgundy and Bresse, of the château of
Dijon, and of Saint-Jean-de-Losne; and, as compensation for the duchy
of Albret, which he had given to the Duc de Bouillon, he invested him
with that of the Bourbonnais. This last arrangement restored to this
branch of the Royal House of France the title of Duc de Bourbon, by
which three of the later Princes de Condé preferred to be known.
In return, nothing was demanded of the rebellious prince, except
that he should disband his forces within two months, and declare his
intention “to make reparation for the past by an entire obedience to
all the commands of his Sovereign” in a letter which he was to write
to his Majesty. Early in December, this missive reached Toulouse,
where the Court then was, and, on the 29th of the same month, Condé,
accompanied by the Duc d’Enghien, quitted Brussels and set out for
France. _Madame la Princesse_ followed, after a short interval,
with the little Mlle. de Bourbon. She, at least, was able to return to
her native land without bitterness and without remorse, since she had
only acted in accordance with what she believed to be her duty to her
husband.