HE RETURNS TO THE COURT OF FRANCE--HIS ADVENTURES AT
THE SIEGE OF ARRAS--HIS REPLY TO CARDINAL MAZARIN
--HE IS BANISHED THE COURT.
The Chevalier de Grammont, upon his return to France, sustained, with the
greatest success, the reputation he had acquired abroad: alert in play,
active and vigilant in love; sometimes successful, and always feared, in
his intrigues; in war alike prepared for the events of good or ill
fortune; possessing an inexhaustible fund of pleasantry in the former,
and full of expedients and dexterity in the latter.
Zealously attached to the Prince de Conde from inclination, he was a
witness, and, if we may be allowed to say it, his companion, in the glory
he had acquired at the celebrated battles of Lens, Norlinguen, and
Fribourg; and the details he so frequently gave of them were far from
diminishing their lustre.
[Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Enghien, afterwards, by the death of his
father in 1656, Prince de Conde. Of this great man Cardinal de Retz
says, "He was born a general, which never happened but to Caesar, to
Spinola, and to himself. He has equalled the first: he has
surpassed the second. Intrepidity is one of the least shining
strokes in his character. Nature had formed him with a mind as
great as his courage. Fortune, in setting him out in a time of
wars, has given this last a full extent to work in: his birth, or
rather his education, in a family devoted and enslaved to the court,
has kept the first within too straight bounds. He was not taught
time enough the great and general maxims which alone are able to
form men to think always consistently. He never had time to learn
them of himself, because he was prevented from his youth, by the
great affairs that fell unexpectedly to his share, and by the
continual success he met with. This defect in him was the cause,
that with the soul in the world the least inclined to evil, he has
committed injuries; that with the heart of an Alexander, he has,
like him, had his failings; that with a wonderful understanding, he
has acted imprudently; that having all the qualities which the Duke
Francis of Guise had, he has not served the state in some occasions
so well as he ought; and that having likewise having all the
qualities of the Duke Henry of Guise, he has not carried faction so
far as he might. He could not come up to the height of his merit;
which, though it be a defect, must yet be owned to be very uncommon,
and only to be found in persons of the greatest abilities."]
So long as he had only some scruples of conscience, and a thousand
interests to sacrifice, he quitted all to follow a man, whom strong
motives and resentments, which in some manner appeared excusable, had
withdrawn from the paths of rectitude: he adhered to him in his first
disgrace, with a constancy of which there are few examples; but he could
not submit to the injuries which he afterwards received, and which such
an inviolable attachment so little merited. Therefore, without fearing
any reproach for a conduct which sufficiently justified itself, as he had
formerly deviated from his duty by entering into the service of the
Prince de Conde, he thought he had a right to leave him to return again
to his duty.
His peace was soon made at Court, where many, far more culpable than
himself, were immediately received into favour, when they desired it; for
the queen, still terrified at the dangers into which the civil wars had
plunged the State at the commencement of her regency, endeavoured by
lenient measures to conciliate the minds of the people.
[Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of Louis
XIII., to whom she was married in 1615, and mother of Louis XIV.
She died in 1666. Cardinal de Retz speaks of her in the following
terms. "The queen had more than anybody whom I ever knew, of that
sort of wit which was necessary for her not to appear a fool to
those that did not know her. She had in her more of harshness than
haughtiness; more of haughtiness than of greatness; more of outward
appearance than reality; more regard to money than liberality; more
of liberality than of self-interest; more of self-interest than
disinterestedness: she was more tied to persons by habit than by
affection; she had more of insensibility than of cruelty; she had a
better memory for injuries than for benefits; her intention towards
piety was greater than her piety; she had in her more of obstinacy
than of firmness; and more incapacity than of all the rest which I
mentioned before." Memoirs, vol. i., p. 247.]
The policy of the minister was neither sanguinary nor revengeful: his
favourite maxim was rather to appease the minds of the discontented by
lenity, than to have recourse to violent measures; to be content with
losing nothing by the war, without being at the expense of gaining any
advantage from the enemy; to suffer his character to be very severely
handled, provided he could amass much wealth, and to spin out the
minority to the greatest possible extent.
[Cardinal Mazarin, who, during a few of the latter years of his
life, governed France. He died at Vincennes the 9th of March 1661,
aged 59 years, leaving as heir to his name and property the Alarquis
de la Meilleray, who married his niece, and took the title of Duke
of Mazarin. On his death, Louis XIV. and the court appeared in
mourning, an honour not common, though Henry IV. had shewn it to the
memory of Gabrielle d'Estrees. Voltaire, who appears unwilling to
ascribe much ability to the cardinal, takes an opportunity, on
occasion of his death, to make the following observation.
--"We cannot refrain from combating the opinion, which supposes
prodigious abilities, and a genius almost divine, in those who have
governed empires with some degree of success. It is not a superior
penetration that makes statesmen; it is their character. All men,
how inconsiderable soever their share of sense may be, see their own
interest nearly alike. A citizen of Bern or Amsterdam, in this
respect, is equal to Sejanus, Ximenes, Buckingham, Richelieu, or
Mazarin; but our conduct and our enterprises depend absolutely on
our natural dispositions, and our success depends upon fortune."
Age of Louis XIV., chap. 5.]
His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined to the thousand
different means, with which he was furnished by his authority, and the
situation in which he was placed: his whole pursuit was gain: he was
naturally fond of gaming; but he only played to enrich himself, and
therefore, whenever he found an opportunity, he cheated.
As he found the Chevalier de Grammont possessed a great deal of wit, and
a great deal of money, he was a man according to his wishes, and soon
became one of his set. The Chevalier soon perceived the artfulness and
dishonesty of the Cardinal, and thought it was allowable in him to put in
practice those talents which he had received from nature, not only in his
own defence, but even to attack him whenever an opportunity offered.
This would certainly be the place to mention these particulars; but who
can describe them with such ease and elegance as maybe expected by those
who have heard his own relation of them? Vain is the attempt to
endeavour to transcribe these entertaining anecdotes: their spirit seems
to evaporate upon paper; and in whatever light they are exposed the
delicacy of their colouring and their beauty is lost.
It is, then, enough to say, that upon all occasions where address was
reciprocally employed, the Chevalier gained the advantage; and that if
he paid his court badly to the minister, he had the consolation to find,
that those who suffered themselves to be cheated, in the end gained no
great advantage from their complaisance; for they always continued in
an abject submission, while the Chevalier de Grammont, on a thousand
different occasions, never put himself under the least restraint. Of
which the following is one instance:
The Spanish army, commanded by the Prince de Conde and the archduke,
--[Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand the III.]--besieged Arras.
The Court was advanced as far as Peronne.--[A little bat strong town,
standing among marshes on the river Somme, in Picardy.]--The enemy, by
the capture of this place, would have procured a reputation for their
army of which they were in great need; as the French, for a considerable
time past, had evinced a superiority in every engagement.
The Prince supported a tottering party, as far as their usual inactivity
and irresolution permitted him; but as in the events of war it is
necessary to act independently on some occasions, which, if once suffered
to escape, can never be retrieved; for want of this power it frequently
happened that his great abilities were of no avail. The Spanish infantry
had never recovered itself since the battle of Rocroy;--[This famous
battle was fought and won 19th May, 1643, five days after the death of
Louis XIII.]--and he who had ruined them by that victory, by fighting
against them, was the only man who now, by commanding their army, was
capable of repairing the mischief he had done them. But the jealousy
of the generals, and the distrust attendant upon their counsels, tied up
his hands.
Nevertheless, the siege of Arras was vigorously carried on.
[Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and Conde
to be always victorious when they fought at the head of the French,
and to be vanquished when they commanded the Spaniards. This was
Conde's fate before Arras, August 25, 1654, when he and the archduke
besieged that city. Turenne attacked them in their camp, and forced
their lines: the troops of the archduke were cut to pieces; and
Conde, with two regiments of French and Lorrainers, alone sustained
the efforts of Turenne's army; and, while the archduke was flying,
he defeated the Marshal de Hoquincourt, repulsed the Marshal de la
Ferte, and retreated victoriously himself, by covering the retreat
of the vanquished Spaniards. The king of Spain, in his letter to
him after this engagement, had these words: "I have been informed
that everything was lost, and that you have recovered everything."]
The Cardinal was very sensible how dishonourable it would be to suffer
this place to be taken under his nose, and almost in sight of the king.
On the other hand, it was very hazardous to attempt its relief, the
Prince de Conde being a man who never neglected the smallest precaution
for the security of his lines; and if lines are attacked and not forced,
the greatest danger threatens the assailants. For, the more furious the
assault, the greater is the disorder in the retreat; and no man in the
world knew so well as the Prince de Conde how to make the best use of an
advantage. The army, commanded by Monsieur de Turenne, was considerably
weaker than that of the enemy; it was, likewise, the only resource they
had to depend upon. If this army was defeated, the loss of Arras was not
the only misfortune to be dreaded.
The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to such junctures, where
deceitful negotiations could extricate him out of difficulties, was
filled with terror at the sight of imminent danger, or of a decisive
event: he was of opinion to lay siege to some other place, the capture of
which might prove an indemnification for the loss of Arras; but Monsieur
de Turenne, who was altogether of a different opinion from the Cardinal,
resolved to march towards the enemy, and did not acquaint him with his
intentions until he was upon his march. The courier arrived in the midst
of his distress, and redoubled his apprehensions and alarms; but there
was then no remedy.
The Marshal, whose great reputation had gained him the confidence of the
troops, had determined upon his measures before an express order from the
Court could prevent him. This was one of those occasions in which the
difficulties you encounter heighten the glory of success. Though the
general's capacity, in some measure, afforded comfort to the Court, they
nevertheless were upon the eve of an event, which in one way or other
must terminate both their hopes and their fears while the rest of the
courtiers were giving various opinions concerning the issue, the
Chevalier de Grammont determined to be an eye-witness of it; a resolution
which greatly surprised the court; for those who had seen as many actions
as he had, seemed to be exempted from such eagerness; but it was in vain
that his friends opposed his resolutions.
The king was pleased with his intention; and the queen appeared no less
satisfied. He assured her that he would bring her good news; and she
promised to embrace him, if he was as good as his word. The Cardinal
made the same promise: to the latter, however, he did not pay much
attention; yet he believed it sincere, because the keeping of it would
cost him nothing.
He set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, whom Monsieur de
Turenne had sent express to their majesties. The Duke of York, and the
Marquis d'Humieres, commanded under the Marshal: the latter was upon duty
when the Chevalier arrived, it being scarce daylight. The Duke of York
did not at first recollect him; but the Marquis d'Humieres, running to
him with open arms, "I thought," said he, "if any man came from court to
pay us a visit upon such an occasion as this, it would be the Chevalier
de Grammont. Well," continued he, "what are they doing at Peronne?"
[Louis de Crevans, Marechal of France. He died 1694. Voltaire says
of him, that he was the first who, at the siege of Arras, in 1658,
was served in silver in the trenches, and had ragouts and entremets
served up to his table.]
"They are in great consternation," replied the Chevalier. "And what do
they think of us?" "They think," said he, "that if you beat the Prince,
you will do no more than your duty; if you are beaten, they will think
you fools and madmen, thus to have risked everything, without considering
the consequences." "Truly," said the Marquis, "you bring us very
comfortable news. Will you now go to Monsieur de Turenne's quarters,
to acquaint him with it; or will you choose rather to repose yourself in
mine? for you have been riding post all last night, and perhaps did not
experience much rest in the preceding." "Where have you heard that the
Chevalier de Grammont had ever any occasion for sleep?" replied he:
"Only order me a horse, that I may have the honour to attend the Duke of
York; for, most likely, he is not in the field so early, except to visit
some posts."
The advanced guard was only at cannon shot from that of the enemy. As
soon as they arrived there, "I should like," said the Chevalier de
Grammont, "to advance as far as the sentry which is posted on that
eminence: I have some friends and acquaintance in their army, whom I
should wish to inquire after: I hope the Duke of York will give me
permission." At these words he advanced. The sentry, seeing him come
forward directly to his post, stood upon his guard the Chevalier stopped
as soon as he was within shot of him. The sentry answered the sign which
was made to him, and made another to the officer, who had begun to
advance as soon as he had seen the Chevalier come forward, and was soon
up with him; but seeing the Chevalier de Grammont alone, he made no
difficulty to let him approach. He desired leave of this officer to
inquire after some relations he had in their army, and at the same time
asked if the Duke d'Arscot was at the siege. "Sir," said he, "there he
is, just alighted under those trees, which you see on the left of our
grand guard: it is hardly a minute since he was here with the Prince
d'Aremberg, his brother, the Baron de Limbec, and Louvigny." "May I see
them upon parole?" said the Chevalier. "Sir," said he, "if I were
allowed to quit my post, I would do myself the honour of accompanying you
thither; but I will send to acquaint them, that the Chevalier de Grammont
desires to speak to them:" and, after having despatched one of his guard
towards them, he returned. "Sir," said the Chevalier de Grammont, "may I
take the liberty to inquire how I came to be known to you?" "Is it
possible," said the other, "that the Chevalier de Grammont should forget
La Motte, who had the honour to serve so long in his regiment?" "What!
is it you, my good friend, La Motte? Truly, I was to blame for not
remembering you, though you are in a dress very different from that which
I first saw you in at Bruxelles, when you taught the Duchess of Guise to
dance the triolets: and I am afraid your affairs are not in so
flourishing a condition as they were the campaign after I had given you
the company you mention." They were talking in this manner, when the
Duke d'Arscot, followed by the gentlemen above mentioned, came up on
full gallop. The Chevalier de Grammont was saluted by the whole company
before he could say a word. Soon after arrived an immense number of
others of his acquaintance, with many people, out of curiosity, on both
sides, who, seeing him upon the eminence, assembled together with the
greatest eagerness; so that the two armies, without design, without
truce, and without fraud, were going to join in conversation, if, by
chance, Monsieur de Turenne had not perceived it at a distance. The
sight surprised him: he hastened that way; and the Marquis d'Humieres
acquainted him with the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont, who wished
to speak to the sentry before he went to the headquarters: he added, that
he could not comprehend how the devil he had managed to assemble both
armies around him, for it was hardly a minute since he had left him.
"Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, "he is a very extraordinary man; but
it is only reasonable that he should let us now have a little of his
company, since he has paid his first visit to the enemy." At these words
he despatched an aide-de-camp, to recal the officers of his army, and to
acquaint the Chevalier de Grammont with his impatience to see him.
This order arrived at the same time, with one of the same nature, to the
enemy's officers. The Prince de Conde, being informed of this peaceable
interview, was not the least surprised at it, when he heard that it was
occasioned by the arrival of the Chevalier de Grammont. He only gave
Lussan orders to recal the officers, and to desire the Chevalier to meet
him at the same place the next day; which the Chevalier promised to do,
provided Monsieur de Turenne should approve of it, as he made no doubt he
would.
His reception in the king's army was equally agreeable as that which he
had experienced from the enemy. Monsieur de Turenne esteemed him no less
for his frankness than for the poignancy of his wit: he took it very
kindly that he was the only courtier who came to see him in a time so
critical as the present: the questions which he asked him about the court
were not so much for information, as to divert himself with his manner of
relating their different apprehensions and alarms. The Chevalier de
Grammont advised him to beat the enemy, if he did not choose to be
answerable for an enterprise which he had undertaken without consulting
the Cardinal. Monsieur de Turenne promised him he would exert himself to
the utmost to follow his advice, and assured him, that if he succeeded,
he would make the queen keep her word with him; and concluded with
saying, that he was not sorry the Prince de Conde had expressed a desire
to see him. His measures were taken for an attack upon the lines: on
this subject he discoursed in private with the Chevalier de Grammont, and
concealed nothing from him except the time of execution: but this was all
to no purpose; for the Chevalier had seen too much, not to judge, from
his own knowledge, and the observations he had made, that from the
situation of the army, the attack could be no longer deferred.
He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended by a trumpet, and
found the Prince at the place which Monsieur de Lussan had described to
him the evening before. As soon as he alighted: "Is it possible," said
the Prince, embracing him, "that this can be the Chevalier de Grammont,
and that I should see him in the contrary party?" "It is you, my lord,
whom I see there," replied the Chevalier, "and I refer it to yourself,
whether it was the fault of the Chevalier de Grammont, or your own, that
we now embrace different interests." "I must confess," said the Prince,
"that if there are some who have abandoned me like base ungrateful
wretches, you have left me, as I left myself, like a man of honour, who
thinks himself in the right: but let us forget all cause of resentment,
and tell me what was your motive for coming here, you, whom I thought at
Peronne with the court." "Must I tell you?" said he: "why, faith then,
I came to save your life. I know that you cannot help being in the midst
of the enemy in a day of battle; it is only necessary for your horse to
be shot under you, and to be taken in arms, to meet with the same
treatment from this Cardinal, as your uncle Montmorency did from the
other.
[Henry, Duke of Montmorency, who was taken prisoner first September,
1692, and had his head struck off at Toulouse in the month of
November following.]
"I come, therefore, to hold a horse in readiness for you, in case of a
similar misfortune, that you may not lose your head." "It is not the
first time," said the Prince, smiling, "that you have rendered me this
service, though the being taken prisoner at that time could not have been
so dangerous to me as now."
From this conversation, they passed to more entertaining subjects. The
Prince asked him many questions concerning the court, the ladies, play,
and about his amours; and returning insensibly to the present situation
of affairs, the Chevalier having inquired after some officers of his
acquaintance, who had remained with him, the Prince told him that if he
chose, he might go to the lines, where he would have an opportunity not
only of seeing those whom he inquired after, but likewise the disposition
of the quarters and entrenchments. To this he consented, and the Prince
having shown him all the works and attended him back to their rendezvous,
"Well, Chevalier, said he, "when do you think we shall see you again?"
"Faith," replied he, "you have used me so handsomely, that I shall
conceal nothing from you. Hold yourself in readiness an hour before
daybreak; for, you may depend upon it, we shall attack you to-morrow
morning. I would not have acquainted you with this, perhaps, had I been
entrusted with the secret, but, nevertheless, in the present case you may
believe me." "You are still the same man," said the Prince, again
embracing him. The Chevalier returned to Monsieur de Turenne's camp
towards night; every preparation was then making for the attack of the
lines, and it was no longer a secret among the troops.
"Well, Monsieur le Chevalier, were they all very glad to see you?" said
Monsieur de Turenne; "the Prince, no doubt, received you with the
greatest kindness, and asked a great number of questions?" "He has shown
me all the civility imaginable," replied the Chevalier; "and, to convince
me he did not take me for a spy, he led me round the lines and
entrenchments, and showed me the preparations he had made for your
reception." "And what is his opinion?" said the Marshal. "He is
persuaded that you will attack him to-night, or to-morrow by daybreak;
for you great captains," continued the Chevalier, "see through each
other's designs in a wonderful manner."
Monsieur de Turenne, with pleasure, received this commendation from
a man who was not indiscriminately accustomed to bestow praise. He
communicated to him the disposition of the attack; and at the same time
acquainted him, that he was very happy that a man who had seen so many
actions was to be present at this; and that he esteemed it no small
advantage to have the benefit of his advice, but as he believed that the
remaining part of the night would be hardly sufficient for his repose,
after having passed the former without any refreshment, he consigned him
to the Marquis d'Humieres, who provided him with a supper and a lodging.
The next day the lines of Arras were attacked, wherein Monsieur de
Turenne, being victorious, added additional lustre to his former glory;
and the Prince de Conde, though vanquished, lost nothing of his former
reputation.
There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, that to mention it
here would be altogether superfluous. The Chevalier de Grammont, who,
as a volunteer, was permitted to go into every part, has given a better
description of it than any other person. Monsieur de Turenne reaped
great advantage from that activity which never forsook the Chevalier
either in peace or war; and that presence of mind which enabled him to
carry orders, as coming from the general, so very apropos, that Monsieur
de Turenne, otherwise very particular in such matters, thanked him, when
the battle was over, in the presence of all his officers, and despatched
him to court with the first news of his success.
All that is generally necessary in these expeditions, is to be accustomed
to hard riding, and to be well provided with fresh horses, but he had a
great many other obstacles to surmount. In the first place, the parties
of the enemy were dispersed over all the country, and obstructed his
passage. Then he had to prepare against greedy and officious courtiers,
who, on such occasions, post themselves in all the avenues, in order to
cheat the poor courier out of his news. However, his address preserved
him from the one, and deceived the others.
He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by an officer of his
acquaintance, to escort him half way to Bapaume, being persuaded that the
greatest danger would lie between the camp and the first stage. He had
not proceeded a league before he was convinced of the truth of what he
suspected, and turning to the officer who followed him closely, "If you
are not well mounted," said he, "I would advise you to return to the
camp; for my part, I shall set spurs to my horse, and make the best of
my way." "Sir," said the officer, "I hope I shall be able to keep you
company, at whatever rate you go, until you are out of all danger."
"I doubt that," replied the Chevalier, "for those gentlemen there seem
prepared to pay us a visit." "Don't you see," said the officer, "they
are some of our own people who are grazing their horses?" "No," said the
Chevalier; "but I see very well that they are some of the enemy's
troopers." Upon which, observing to him that they were mounting, he
ordered the horsemen that escorted him to prepare themselves to make a
diversion, and he himself set off full speed towards Bapaume.
He was mounted upon a very swift English horse; but having entangled
himself in a hollow way where the ground was deep and miry, he soon had
the troopers at his heels, who, supposing him to be some officer of rank,
would not be deceived, but continued to pursue him without paying any
attention to the others. The best mounted of the party began to draw
near him; for the English horses, swift as the wind on even ground,
proceeded but very indifferently in bad roads; the trooper presented his
carbine, and cried out to him, at some distance, "Good quarter." The
Chevalier de Grammont, who perceived that they gained upon him, and that
whatever efforts his horse made in such heavy ground, he must be
overtaken at last, immediately quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a
causeway to the left, which led quite a different way; as soon as he had
gained it, he drew up, as if to hear the proposal of the trooper, which
afforded his horse an opportunity of recovering himself; while his enemy,
mistaking his intention, and thinking that he only waited to surrender,
immediately exerted every effort, that he might take him before the rest
of his companions, who were following, could arrive, and by this means
almost killed his horse.
One minute's reflection made the Chevalier consider what a disagreeable
adventure it would be, thus coming from so glorious a victory, and the
dangers of a battle so warmly disputed, to be taken by a set of
scoundrels who had not been in it, and, instead of being received in
triumph, and embraced by a great queen, for the important news with
which he was charged, to see himself stripped by the vanquished.
During this short meditation, the trooper who followed him was arrived
within shot, and still presenting his carbine, offered him good quarter,
but the Chevalier de Grammont, to whom this offer, and the manner in
which it was made, were equally displeasing, made a sign to him to lower
his piece; and perceiving his horse to be in wind, he lowered his hand,
rode off like lightning, and left the trooper in such astonishment that
he even forgot to fire at him.
As soon as he arrived at Bapaume, he changed horses; the commander of
this place showed him the greatest respect, assuring him that no person
had yet passed; that he would keep the secret, and that he would retain
all that followed him, except the couriers of Monsieur de Turenne.
He now had only to guard against those who would be watching for him
about the environs of Peronne, to return as soon as they saw him, and
carry his news to court, without being acquainted with any of the
particulars. He knew very well that Marshal du Plessis, Marshal de
Villeroy, and Gaboury, had boasted of this to the Cardinal before his
departure. Wherefore, to elude this snare, he hired two well-mounted
horsemen at Bapaume, and as soon as he had got a league from that place,
and after giving them each two louis d'ors, to secure their fidelity,
he ordered them to ride on before, to appear very much terrified, and to
tell all those who should ask them any questions, "that all was lost,
that the Chevalier de Grammont had stopped at Bapaume, having no great
inclination to be the messenger of ill news; and that as for themselves,
they had been pursued by the enemy's troopers, who were spread over the
whole country since the defeat."
Everything succeeded to his wish: the horsemen were intercepted by
Gaboury, whose eagerness had outstripped the two marshals'; but whatever
questions were asked them, they acted their parts so well, that Peronne
was already in consternation, and rumours of the defeat were whispered
among the courtiers, when the Chevalier de Grammont arrived.
Nothing so enhances the value of good news, as when a false alarm of
bad has preceded; yet, though the Chevalier's was accompanied with this
advantage, none but their Majesties received it with that transport of
joy it deserved.
The queen kept her promise to him in the most fascinating manner: she
embraced him before the whole court; the king appeared no less delighted;
but the Cardinal, whether with the view of lessening the merit of an
action which deserved a handsome reward, or whether it was from a return
of that insolence which always accompanied him in prosperity, appeared at
first not to pay any attention to what he said, and being afterwards
informed that the lines had been forced, that the Spanish army was
beaten, and that Arras was relieved, "Is the Prince de Conde taken?"
said he. "No," replied the Chevalier de Grammont. "He is dead then, I
suppose?" said the Cardinal. "Not so, neither," answered the Chevalier.
"Fine news indeed!" said the Cardinal, with an air of contempt; and at
these words he went into the queen's cabinet with their majesties. And
happy it was for the Chevalier that he did so, for without doubt he would
have given him some severe reply, in resentment for those two fine
questions, and the conclusion he had drawn from them.
The court was filled with the Cardinal's spies: the Chevalier, as is
usual on such an occasion, was surrounded by a crowd of courtiers and
inquisitive people, and he was very glad to ease himself of some part
of the load which laid heavy on his heart, within the hearing of the
Cardinal's creatures, and which he would perhaps have told him to his
face. "Faith, gentlemen," said he, with a sneer, "there is nothing like
being zealous and eager in the service of kings and great princes: you
have seen what a gracious reception his Majesty has given me; you are
likewise witnesses in what an obliging manner the queen kept her promise
with me; but as for the Cardinal, he has received my news as if he gained
no more by it than he did by the death of Peter Mazarin."
[Peter Mazarin was father to the Cardinal. He was a native of
Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at Rome,
where he died in the year 1654.]
This was sufficient to terrify all those who were sincerely attached to
him; and the best established fortune would have been ruined at some
period by a jest much less severe: for it was delivered in the presence
of witnesses, who were only desirous of having an opportunity of
representing it in its utmost malignancy, to make a merit of their
vigilance with a powerful and absolute minister. Of this the Chevalier
de Grammont was thoroughly convinced; yet whatever detriment he foresaw
might arise from it, he could not help being much pleased with what he
had said.
The spies very faithfully discharged their duty: however, the affair took
a very different turn from what they expected. The next day, when the
Chevalier de Grammont was present while their Majesties were at dinner,
the Cardinal came in, and coming up to him, everybody making way for him
out of respect: "Chevalier," said he, "the news which you have brought
is very good, their Majesties are very well satisfied with it; and to
convince you it is more advantageous to me than the death of Peter
Mazarin, if you will come and dine with me we will have some play
together; for the queen will give us something to play for, over and
above her first promise."
In this manner did the Chevalier de Grammont dare to provoke a powerful
minister, and this was all the resentment which the least vindictive of
all statesmen expressed on the occasion. It was indeed very unusual for
so young a man to reverence the authority of ministers no farther, than
as they were themselves respectable by their merit; for this, his own
breast, as well as the whole court, applauded him, and he enjoyed the
satisfaction of being the only man who durst preserve the least shadow of
liberty, in a general state of servitude; but it was perhaps owing to the
Cardinal's passing over this insult with impunity, that he afterwards
drew upon himself some difficulties, by other rash expressions less
fortunate in the event.
In the mean time the court returned: the Cardinal, who was sensible that
he could no longer keep his master in a state of tutelage, being himself
worn out with cares and sickness, and having amassed treasures he knew
not what to do with, and being sufficiently loaded with the weight of
public odium, he turned all his thoughts towards terminating, in a manner
the most advantageous for France, a ministry which had so cruelly shaken
that kingdom. Thus, while he was earnestly laying the foundations of a
peace so ardently wished for, pleasure and plenty began to reign at
court.
The Chevalier de Grammont experienced for a long time a variety of
fortune in love and gaming: he was esteemed by the courtiers, beloved by
beauties whom he neglected, and a dangerous favourite of those whom he
admired; more successful in play than in his amours; but the one
indemnifying him for want of success in the other, he was always full of
life and spirits; and in all transactions of importance, always a man of
honour.
It is a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt the course of his
history, by an interval of some years, as has been already done at the
commencement of these memoirs. In a life where the most minute
circumstances are always singular and diverting, we can meet with no
chasm which does not afford regret; but whether he did not think them
worthy of holding a place among his other adventures, or that he has only
preserved a confused idea of them, we must pass to the parts of these
fragments which are better ascertained, that we may arrive at the subject
of his journey to England.
The peace of the Pyrenees, the king's marriage,--the return of the
Prince de Conde, and the death of the Cardinal, gave a new face to the
state.
[Louis XIV. married Maria Theresa of Austria. She was born 20th
September, 1638, married 1st June, 1660, and entered Paris 26th
August following. She died at Versailles 30th July, 1683, and was
buried at St. Denis.]
The eyes of the whole nation were fixed upon their king, who, for
nobleness of mien, and gracefulness of person, had no equal; but it was
not then known that he was possessed of those superior abilities, which,
filling his subjects with admiration, in the end made him so formidable
to Europe. Love and ambition, the invisible springs of the intrigues and
cabals of all courts, attentively observed his first steps: pleasure
promised herself an absolute empire over a prince who had been kept in
ignorance of the necessary rules of government, and ambition had no hopes
of reigning in the court except in the minds of those who were able to
dispute the management of affairs; when men were surprised to see the
king on a sudden display such brilliant abilities, which prudence, in
some measure necessary, had so long obliged him to conceal.
An application, inimical to the pleasures which generally attract that
age, and which unlimited power very seldom refuses, attached him solely
to the cares of government: all admired this wonderful change, but all
did not find their account in it: the great lost their consequence before
an absolute master, and the courtiers approached with reverential awe the
sole object of their respects and the sole master of their fortunes:
those who had conducted themselves like petty tyrants in their provinces,
and on the frontiers, were now no more than governors: favours, according
to the king's pleasure, were sometimes conferred on merit, and sometimes
for services done the state; but to importune, or to menace the court,
was no longer the method to obtain them.
The Chevalier de Grammont regarded his master's attention to the affairs
of state as a prodigy: he could not conceive how he could submit at his
age to the rules he prescribed himself, or that he should give up so many
hours of pleasure, to devote them to the tiresome duties, and laborious
functions of government; but he blessed the Lord that henceforward no
more homage was to be paid, no more court to be made, but to him alone,
to whom they were justly due. Disdaining as he did the servile adoration
usually paid to a minister, he could never crouch before the power of the
two Cardinals who succeeded each other: he neither worshipped the
arbitrary power of the one, nor gave his approbation to the artifices of
the other; he had never received anything from Cardinal Richelieu but an
abbey, which, on account of his rank, could not be refused him; and he
never acquired anything from Mazarin but what he won of him at play.
By many years' experience under an able general he had acquired a talent
for war; but this during a general peace was of no further service to
him. He therefore thought that, in the midst of a court flourishing in
beauties and abounding in wealth, he could not employ himself better than
in endeavouring to gain the good opinion of his master, in making the
best use of those advantages which nature had given him for play, and in
putting in practice new stratagems in love.
He succeeded very well in the two first of these projects, and as he had
from that time laid it down as the rule of his conduct to attach himself
solely to the king in all his views of preferment, to have no regard for
favour unless when it was supported by merit, to make himself beloved by
the courtiers and feared by the minister, to dare to undertake anything
in order to do good, and to engage in nothing at the expense of
innocence, he soon became one in all the king's parties of pleasure,
without gaining the ill will of the courtiers. In play he was
successful, in love unfortunate; or, to speak more properly, his
restlessness and jealousy overcame his natural prudence, in a situation
wherein he had most occasion for it. La Motte Agencourt was one of the
maids of honour to the queen dowager, and, though no sparkling beauty,
she had drawn away lovers from the celebrated Meneville.
[These two ladies at this period seem to have made a distinguished
figure in the annals of gallantry. One of their contemporaries
mentions them in these terms: "In this case, perhaps, I can give a
better account than most people; as, for instance, they had raised a
report, when the queen-mother expelled Mademoiselle de la Motte
Agencourt, that it was on his score, when I am assured, upon very
good grounds, that it was for entertaining the Marquis de Richelieu
against her majesty's express command. This lady, who was one of
her maids of honour, was a person whom I was particularly acquainted
with; and that so much, as I was supposed to have a passion for her:
she was counted one of the finest women of the court, and therefore
I was not at all displeased to have it thought so; for except
Mademoiselle de Meneville, (who had her admirers,) there was none
that could pretend to dispute it" Memoirs of the Comte de Rochfort,
1696, p. 210. See also Anquetil, Louis XVI. sa Cour et le Regent,
tome i. p. 46.]
It was sufficient in those days for the king to cast his eye upon a
young lady of the court to inspire her with hopes, and often with tender
sentiments; but if he spoke to her more than once, the courtiers took it
for granted, and those who had either pretensions to, or love for her,
respectfully withdrew both the one and the other, and afterwards only
paid her respect; but the Chevalier de Grammont thought fit to act quite
otherwise, perhaps to preserve a singularity of character, which upon the
present occasion was of no avail.
He had never before thought of her, but as soon as he found that she
was honoured with the king's attention, he was of opinion that she was
likewise deserving of his. Having attached himself to her, he soon
became very troublesome, without convincing her he was much in love.
She grew weary of his persecutions, but he would not desist, neither on
account of her ill-treatment nor of her threats. This conduct of his at
first made no great noise, because she was in hopes that he would change
his behaviour; but finding him rashly persist in it, she complained of
him: and then it was that he perceived that if love renders all
conditions equal, it is not so between rivals. He was banished the
court, and not finding any place in France which could console him for
what he most regretted--the presence and sight of his prince--after
having made some slight reflections upon his disgrace, and bestowed
a few imprecations against her who was the cause of it, he at last
formed the resolution of visiting England.