It was late in the day when I returned to Gourville's lodging, and I
thought he would have gone mad with joy when I told him the success of
my attempt. He frankly avowed to me also, that, though well accustomed
to dangerous enterprises, he had listened during my absence for every
sound, expecting each minute to find that I had been arrested, and
that a lettre de cachet had been sent for his own apprehension.
"And did you really think, Monsieur Gourville," I demanded, "that,
even had I been stopped myself, I would have implicated you?"
"There is no knowing, Monsieur,--there is no knowing," replied he:
"the question is not a pleasant thing, and I have never been able to
tell how I should myself behave under its infliction. I acknowledge
that it is just as likely that I should yield all sorts of secrets to
its potent influence, as that I should conceal them."
"Of course, then, I can neither be surprised nor offended," I replied,
"at your attributing to me the same feelings. But to speak of other
matters: to-morrow early I shall go out to St. Maur, to see if a
friend, whom I expect there, has returned; but I shall be back in the
evening, and you will find me at my auberge by five o'clock." Thus
ended our conversation, and we parted.
It is wonderful what changes a few hours produce in this life. On
leaving Gourville that night, we were both as fully persuaded as
mortal men could be, that our scheme was going on better and better
each hour. Nor did we entertain a doubt that we should be able to
carry it forward successfully to the close. Ere I had risen from my
bed, however, the next morning, I was surprised by some one knocking
sharply at my chamber door; and on opening it, the first thing I saw
was the face of Gourville, apparently many shades paler than it had
been when I left him the night before. "We are lost!" he said; "some
unfortunate accident has discovered our whole design."
"Unfortunate, indeed," I answered; "but let me hear, my good friend,
what is it that has filled you with such sad tidings this morning,
when I left you last night borne up upon the very pinions of hope?"
"I have just discovered," he replied, "that after a long consultation
before day-light this morning between the Duke de Beaufort, the
Archbishop coadjutor, the Cardinal, and the Duke of Orleans, Monsieur
de Beaufort himself, with three troops of cavalry, set out for
Vincennes a little before the dawn; and, after searching every village
in the neighbourhood, proceeded to the château, and there remains."
This information was certainly alarming enough; but still it seemed to
me necessary to obtain some more correct intelligence in regard to the
causes of these movements on the part of the Court than Gourville had
yet obtained, ere we decided upon abandoning an attempt, which, as far
as it had proceeded, had been conducted with great success. Gourville
coincided with me in opinion; but the difficulty was, where and how to
obtain the information that we required.
"At all events," he said, "it is my duty to communicate immediately
what has occurred to the poor fellow, Franc-c[oe]ur, through whom I
have carried on my correspondence with the soldiers at Vincennes. He
belongs to another company of the guards, who are now in Paris; and as
the matter may touch his life, should we be actually betrayed, I must
give him instant notice, that he may betake himself to a place of
security. As I go, I will endeavour to obtain all the information I
can, and will return in less than an hour, and let you know my
discoveries."
He was as good as his word, and returning even paler than before,
seemed somewhat surprised to find me quietly eating my breakfast, as
if nothing had occurred to derange my ordinary habits, or affect my
appetite. He now told me that he had found the serjeant not only
informed of all the particulars with which he himself was acquainted,
but also possessed of a knowledge of their cause. This he had
communicated to Gourville, who now related it to me, and it appeared
that one of the soldiers, who had been trusted with the scheme for
delivering the Princes, had taken fright the day before, and,
pretending to confess himself at the church of Nôtre Dame, had given
the penitentiary a billet, informing him that, on the following
Sunday, at three o'clock, the Princes were to be set at liberty, by
means of an understanding between their friends and some persons
within the castle of Vincennes.
"Now," continued Gourville, "although Franc-c[oe]ur declares that,
notwithstanding this piece of treachery, he is sure his comrade will
not betray us any farther, yet, as it is clear that our scheme is now
hopeless, and as I never put great faith in any man's resolution under
the influence of the question, I think it will be a great deal better
both for you and me to leave Paris as fast as possible."
"Certainly, as the scheme is hopeless," I replied, "I see nothing that
should detain us; and therefore I shall return with all speed to
Brittany; where, perhaps, it may be advisable," I added, with a laugh,
"to tell Monsieur de Villardin by no means to put any trust in all
those fine petitions and remonstrances of the Princess Dowager, of
which you boasted so much when first I saw you."
"No, no," replied Gourville, smiling in turn; "let him not rely upon
them for the liberation of his princely friend. Tell him rather, for
me, that I now look upon it as absolutely impossible to obtain the
freedom of the Princes by any means but the sword. The Parliament and
the Queen are alike resolved not to give them their liberty; and it is
to the efforts of their friends alone that we must look for their
deliverance."
After a few more words to the same effect, we parted; and mounting the
sturdy little horse which I had bought to carry me to Vincennes, I
rode away as hard as I could, on the side of Brittany. When I had
completely tired out my beast I again took the post, and pursued my
way towards Dumont, with very little rest or cessation. It is true,
when I arrived I was desperately fatigued, for nine days had taken me
to Paris and back, a distance of more than seven hundred miles; and
during the period of my absence, I had spent two whole days and part
of another in the capital. Nor had I any very consolatory remembrances
to make me bear up with spirit under my corporeal weariness, having
been foiled in my endeavours to serve the Prince, at the moment that
success seemed within my grasp; but, at all events, I felt that I had
some reason to be satisfied with my journey, inasmuch as I had
obtained every information that Monsieur de Villardin could require,
and had found an opportunity of personally seeing and attempting to
aid his friend, though our scheme had ultimately proved ineffectual.
The chief mortification, indeed, which I experienced, arose from a
fear that the Prince de Condé--who would, of course, remain ignorant
of the events which had taken place without the walls of his
prison--might imagine that I had deceived him; and I could only
console myself by remembering that one day he must learn the truth.
On arriving at Dumont, everything I saw announced that Monsieur de
Villardin had not waited for the information which he had sent me to
seek, ere he formed his determination. The desire of a change of scene
and thought, and the wish to deliver his friend, had overcome every
other feeling, and he was, in fact, actually in arms when I arrived.
At first he would scarcely believe that I had performed the journey,
but when he learned all that I had done besides, he loaded me with
thanks and praises.
He then told me his own plans, and informed me that he could but allow
me one day for repose, as on the Thursday morning following he was
about to march, with all the forces he had been able to collect, for
Bordeaux.
"I sent off Gaspard de Belleville to Bordeaux," he added, "the morning
after your departure for Paris, charging him with a letter for the
Princess, and another for Monsieur de Bouillon. In each of these I
said, that unless the Princes were liberated within three weeks, their
friends might expect to see me in Guyenne. As Gaspard is now of age,
too," he added, in that sort of peculiar discursive tone which a man
assumes when he wishes to communicate a matter of particular interest,
as if it were one of no interest at all--"as Gaspard is now of age,
too, to enter the service, I have requested Monsieur de Bouillon to
give him a commission in one of the regiments at Bordeaux; but I have
not forgotten you, and as I wish you always to be near me, I propose
to give you a troop in the regiment of cavalry I am now raising.
Monsieur de Turenne had a company of infantry at your age, and I see
no reason why I should not do the same for you, especially as I have a
great lack of officers who have stood fire."
Although, to tell the truth, I would much rather have entered the
service on the part of the King and the Court, than on the part of
their adversaries, yet the idea of activity and enterprise seldom came
amiss; and I thanked Monsieur de Villardin sincerely for his kindness,
but added, that I trusted he would find the means of keeping me near
him.
"I will make you my aide-de-camp," he replied; "but we have a number
of other arrangements to attend to. Go, therefore, and lie down for
two or three hours, and then join me in the esplanade at the end of
the park."
I did as he bade me, as far as the lying down went; but, though tired
to death, I could not sleep. I was much refreshed, however, even by
the sort of repose I obtained, and as soon as I thought the time was
expired, I got up and walked out to the esplanade, where I found that
Monsieur de Villardin was occupied in reviewing, or rather drilling,
the regiment he had been employed in raising during my absence. Four
hundred men made the extent of his force, and amongst them only two,
who had served in the wars of Paris, could give any assistance in
matters of discipline, if we except half a dozen wild young nobles of
the neighbourhood, who had joined the corps of the Duke, but who were
not present on this occasion. I may say, then, that I was of no slight
assistance to Monsieur de Villardin on that and the following day; for
though he was undoubtedly an excellent officer, yet, of course, he
could not drill four hundred men without help from some one. The
cavaliers whom we had to deal with were in general tall, powerful men,
from the upper districts of Brittany; and though they looked stupid
enough at first, yet, when what they were to do was explained to them,
they proved neither dull of comprehension, nor slow in execution.
That which pleased me more than anything else in the whole scene was,
to observe that, while in actual exertion and activity, the deep heavy
gloom which had overshadowed the countenance of the Duke ever since
the death of his wife, passed away, and for the time he was himself
again. This change only lasted for the time, it is true, and the
moment he turned from the esplanade, the cloud was as dark and stern
as ever. Indeed, this observation may apply to the whole of the rest
of his life. In the field I have often seen him cheerful, and even
gay; but the moment that the temporary stimulus was withdrawn, he
would fall back into a deep and bitter melancholy, which I never saw
enlivened even by a smile. Generally after supper he retired to a
solitary chamber, and there remained alone for several hours. At
first, I fancied that he occupied himself in reading, for which he
always had a strong taste; but being obliged, on more than one
occasion, in the course of the civil strife that ensued, to break in
upon his retirement, I almost always found him immersed in deep
thought, with his cheek resting on his hand; and never saw a book near
him during those hours of the night that he thus passed alone.
On our return from the esplanade, which did not take place till a late
hour of the evening, we found Father Ferdinand walking in the
flower-garden with Mademoiselle de Villardin, and smiling upon all her
young and graceful sports with that bland expression of reflected
enjoyment which sits so well upon the lip of age. As soon as the
little Laura beheld me, she sprang up as usual to my neck, and, making
a sort of seat of my arm, scolded me with childish vehemence for my
long absence.
"He will be absent from you still longer, my sweet child," said
Monsieur de Villardin, kissing her cheek; "and therefore you must
remember to keep far from the water, as there will be no one there to
save you. Do you know, my good father," he added, turning to the
Priest, "that child would soon make me a very coward? The only thing I
fear, in going to do what I conceive my duty, is, that I may never see
her again."
He waited for no reply, but turned into the house, and we followed.
After supper, Father Ferdinand and myself were left alone, and I now
learned more of the arrangements which Monsieur de Villardin had found
it necessary to make, than he had himself communicated. As Brittany
was in general loyal, and the governor most decidedly attached to the
Court, against which the Duke was now in arms, he had determined upon
sending his whole household with Mademoiselle de Villardin, and
everything easily moveable, both from the Prés Vallée and from Dumont,
to the estates of his late wife at Virmont in the Orleanois, where his
daughter, being in the immediate neighbourhood of her grand-uncle,
Monsieur de Loris, would, he fancied, be much more safe than in
Brittany.
"They have already arrested the wife and sister of the Duke de
Bouillon," said the Confessor; "and Monsieur de Villardin thinks that
if they imprison women as a sort of surety for their relatives, they
may equally well imprison children. He has prevailed upon me," added
the good Priest, "to go to Virmont also, and to superintend the
education of his daughter, though God knows I have every inducement to
stay in this province, and no worldly motive has ever been able to
make me quit it hitherto. Here I was born," he continued, musing:
"here are all the associations of my infancy and of my age; nor did I
think to leave it, though the Duke has frequently asked me. But I have
now yielded to another voice more persuasive than his."
"Indeed!" I said, in some surprise; and he instantly added, more in
answer to my look than to the exclamation,--"The voice of my own
heart, my son."
The conversation then rambled on in a desultory manner; and the worthy
Father, ere we parted, gave me an infinity of good advice, which, of
course, I was the more willing to take, because he put it less in the
dogmatical form of directions in regard to my own conduct, than under
the semblance of the results of his own experience and general
observations upon man and the world. He exacted from me a promise,
also, that I would write to him continually, giving him not only an
account of the general events in which I was about to mingle, but also
detailing my own actions, thoughts, and feelings, as far as it was
wise and prudent to do so by the insecure conveyance of the post.
"In your letters to me, my son," he added, "you cannot be too minute;
for, believe me, everything that concerns you, your health, your
welfare, the progress of your mind, and the success of your fortunes,
are all a matter of interest to me in no slight degree."
He has acknowledged to me since, that his chief motive, in exacting
from me this promise, was not so much the desire of watching over my
conduct himself, as the wish to add a sort of safeguard to all the
good principles he had endeavoured to instil into my mind; well
knowing that the sense of moral responsibility is seldom so vivid in
youth as greatly to affect our actions, unless some co-operating
restraint compels us continually to examine our own hearts minutely.
He did not choose to suffer his motive to appear at the moment,
however laudable he knew it to be, fully understanding that my
disposition was not one to submit to any checks but those I chose to
impose upon myself. I notice this fact, indeed, more as a slight trait
of that petty policy, which the good Father suffered to mingle with
his other more estimable qualities, than from any effect that was
produced upon myself; as my absence at Bordeaux was too short, and the
circumstances in which we were placed were too difficult, to admit of
any extended correspondence between us at that time.
On the Thursday morning we began our march, and advanced rapidly
towards Bordeaux, crossing an immense extent of country, which was at
that time in a state of disorganization and confusion, which nobody
who did not see it at that period can possibly conceive. Indeed, I
will not attempt to describe it: for no one living under an orderly
and well-conducted form of government would believe that such a
complete state of anarchy and misrule could be produced, throughout a
whole country, by the follies and dissensions of half a dozen unruly
and ambitious men. Although a single regiment would at any time have
stopped us on our march, it not only seemed that no regiment was to be
found in the whole tract which we traversed; but such was the state of
apathy and confusion that reigned in every part of the kingdom, that
no town or village through which we passed appeared to have had the
slightest intimation of our approach till we showed ourselves in its
streets. Monsieur de Villardin himself, quite accustomed to the sort
of warfare which we were pursuing, advanced direct upon Bordeaux with
very little caution, taking care, indeed, to avoid those towns which
he knew to be garrisoned for the Court; but heedless altogether,--at
least, so it seemed to me,--in regard to the movements of our enemies,
who were certainly marching in considerable force towards the same
point with ourselves. The whole business, indeed, was conducted in so
different a manner from that which I had seen in our civil wars in
England, that I could not but come to the conclusion that the French
were decidedly a better-tempered people than my own countrymen; and,
without being braver, that they bore every sort of misfortune,
fatigue, and danger, with a degree of light carelessness that no
Englishman could have affected, much less felt, under similar
circumstances.
How it happened that we did not encounter the army of Monsieur de
Meilleraie I cannot at all explain, as we certainly must have passed
within five miles of his camp. So, however, it did happen; and, after
a march of rather more than ten days, we entered the city of Bordeaux,
amidst the acclamations of the people, and the rejoicings of our
friends and partisans. We found the town, indeed, in a very
unpromising condition for undergoing a siege. Provisions and stores,
it is true, were most abundant, the people were zealous in the cause
of the Princes, a considerable force of veteran troops were within the
place, and the generals were experienced and determined; but the
fortifications of the city itself were, to all appearance, incompetent
to resist for a single day the attack of a regular army. The
inhabitants would not hear of the suburbs being destroyed, for the
defence of the rest of the city; and it became necessary to protect
them also against the enemy, who was now approaching rapidly.
Diligence and activity, however, remedied many defects. Several
redoubts were thrown up on the upper side of the Garonne; the old
castle of Blancfort, which had seen the days of the Black Prince, was
destined once more to receive a garrison; and numbers of the citizens
worked day and night at the wall and trenches, in order to put them in
a state for resistance before the approach of the royal army. By this
time the Duke of Epernon was within a few miles of the city, and the
first active operations were undertaken on the side of Blancfort, from
which place Monsieur de Chambon, our maréchal de camp, was forced to
make a precipitate retreat. An effort was made on the part of the
Bordelais to support him, in which our regiment took a share: but the
nature of the ground which the enemy now occupied, was so strong, that
all we could accomplish was to cover the retreat of the maréchal de
camp, which was now effected without difficulty and in good order. On
that side the Duke was held at bay; but the King and Court were by
this time at Libourne, while Monsieur de Meilleraie was advancing
towards the faubourg St. Surin, which seemed quite untenable; and it
was evident that he intended, if possible, to take advantage of its
total want of defences, in order to storm the city by the Porte
Digeaux.
It so happened, however, that in advance of the gate was a dunghill,
on which had been thrown a considerable quantity of rubbish, left by
some improvements which had been carried on about two years before in
that quarter of the town, the whole forming an elevation of a few
feet, at a short distance from the Porte Digeaux. On visiting the
spot, to see what might best be done for the defence of the gate, the
Dukes of Bouillon and Rochefoucault, together with Monsieur de
Villardin and several others, advanced to the top of this little
mound, in order to gain a better view of the surrounding objects, when
it suddenly struck some one, I do not know whom, that the very heap on
which they were standing might be converted into a half-moon, for the
defence of the gate. No sooner was this plan proposed than it was
executed. What little additions the time permitted were immediately
made; and, though it was utterly impossible either to erect a parapet
or to dig a fosse, a dunghill and a pile of rubbish thus became the
principal defence of the city of Bordeaux.
Scarcely were these preparations complete, when the attack upon the
faubourg commenced; and, while the Maréchal de Meilleraie himself
proceeded to force the barricades which had been erected in the
streets, and were defended vigorously by the Duke de Rochefoucault, a
detachment was sent round by the vineyards and corn-fields, in order
to turn the faubourg, and attack the half-moon from the west. This
part of the plan, however, had been foreseen by Monsieur de Bouillon
and Monsieur de Villardin; and although the maréchal succeeded in
forcing the barricades in the faubourg, the detachment which I have
mentioned got entangled amongst the hedges and walls of the vineyards,
which had been previously garnished with several corps of infantry,
and was glad to effect its retreat with the loss of nearly seven
hundred men.
The events of the day gave great encouragement to the people of
Bordeaux; and, though we found it very difficult to prevail upon the
men to defend the half-moon with any degree of regularity, yet,
whenever it was attacked by the enemy, a sudden sortie from the Porte
Digeaux and one of the neighbouring posterns succeeded, in all
instances, in repelling the assailants, and sweeping their trenches as
far as they had been conducted.
I do not propose to give any minute account of this well-known siege.
The part I took in it was little more than that of a common soldier,
though, by volunteering my services upon all occasions and in every
sort of occupation, I was continually in the midst of the fire. By a
species of stupidity, or perhaps, from early initiation into such
scenes of peril, I have never been able to remember, when actually
engaged in battle, that there was any sort of danger to be
apprehended; and though, when Monsieur de Villardin and the Duke de
Bouillon,--who about this time took a good deal of notice of
me--reprehended me for exposing myself madly, as they called it, I
used to make very strong and sincere resolutions of prudence and
circumspection; yet, whenever the next day came, and I found myself in
the sally, or on the half-moon, I quite forgot to look out for the
danger, and never remembered my resolutions till I was once more
within the walls.
Little occurred to me of a personal nature, during the whole of my
residence at Bordeaux, that is at all worth relating. In the defence I
endeavoured to do my duty; and under such circumstances it is very
difficult to do more. I was fortunate enough, however, to please those
who commanded, and received more praise for my conduct than I at all
deserved. As I was scarcely ever absent from the point of attack, my
more peaceful operations consisted principally in eating, drinking,
and sleeping; and, as I knew nobody in the whole town, besides the
personal attendants of Monsieur de Villardin,--with the exception of
Gaspard de Belleville, who had now obtained a commission in the
regiment of the Duke de Bouillon,--very little occurred to divert my
thoughts even for a moment from the operations of the siege. Gaspard I
saw but seldom; but when I did so, we met upon, perhaps, better terms
than we had done in the house of Monsieur de Villardin. He had
acquired a great deal of strut and swagger, it is true, upon the
strength of his new situation; but, by this time, he knew me too well
to provoke me deliberately, and, therefore, always maintained a degree
of civility with which I was quite satisfied. I fancied, indeed, now
he had left Monsieur de Villardin, and had embarked in an entirely new
course of life, that the jealousy with which he had regarded me, on
account of the Duke's preference for myself, had become extinct, and
that his hatred was consequently at an end; but in this I afterwards
found that I was mistaken. I had but little opportunity of observing
his general conduct, but, from that which I did see of it, I should
say, that, though not wanting in courage, he was at this time anything
but enterprising; and that the great favour which he obtained with his
commander was principally acquired by those somewhat servile and
insinuating manners, which he knew well how to put on towards his
superiors, though he was insufferably insolent and domineering to
every one below him.
One little adventure I certainly did meet with, which, though it
produced no results at the time, I could not help connecting in my own
mind with the presence of Gaspard de Belleville in Bordeaux. Having
returned to my own lodging, in the evening of the sixth day of the
siege, in order to get something to eat, as I had not tasted food
since the night before, I was suddenly disturbed at my supper, by a
cry of "Alerte! Alerte!--to the walls! to the walls!" and, hurrying
out as fast as possible, I was proceeding towards the Porte Digeaux,
when, at the corner of one of the narrow streets, I ran accidentally
against a lady handsomely dressed, and, nearly knocking her down,
struck out of her hand the black velvet mask, called a _loup_, which
was then very generally used by women in the higher classes, under the
pretext of defending their complexions from the sun or from the sharp
air. Stooping hurriedly down, I picked up the mask, and returned it to
the lady, raising my eyes to her face, for the first time, as I did
so. My surprise was not a little, I confess, to see in such gay
habiliments Madame Suzette, the suivante of the late unhappy Duchess
de Villardin. She had recognised me sooner, and was gazing on me with
an expression of countenance which I shall not easily forget,--such a
strange mixture of coquetry, and hatred, and self-satisfied vanity did
it display. Taking back her mask, she continued to gaze at me till she
saw me about to speak; and then applying it to her face, she turned
upon her heel with an air of insolent scorn, and, tripping down the
street, left me to pursue my way to the walls. Nor, during the rest of
the siege, did I see her again, although I think I should have
recognised her in despite of her _loup_.
For thirteen days the siege was continued with great activity; the
half-moon remained in the hands of the Bordelais, provisions were
plenty, and the determination of the populace was but little shaken.
However, the Maréchal de Meilleraie, finding his attack upon the Porte
Digeaux unavailing, entered upon a new plan of operations, and pushed
his trenches on the other side of the town, in the gardens between the
Archbishop's palace and the convent called the Chartron. Our proper
quarters in the town lay in that very neighbourhood; Monsieur de
Villardin having been assigned a house by the side of the cathedral of
St. Andrew, and his men being billeted in the streets round about him.
We could do nothing, however, to stay the progress of the besiegers;
the trenches were carried on rapidly, and, notwithstanding sallies
innumerable, a battery of six pieces of cannon opened upon the
curtain, and very soon effected a practicable breach.
Of course, all was now anxiety in the city; and, though the generals
did everything in their power to keep up the spirits of the Bordelais,
assuring them that the breach was not practicable, that internal works
should be thrown up during the night to remedy the evil, and that they
themselves, with their own followers, and the volunteers from the
town, would undertake to make good their defence against all the
troops which could be brought to act upon that point,--the people
evidently lost heart; tumultuous meetings were held in different parts
of the city; and I acknowledge that the only choice left for us
appeared to me, either to be given up by the inhabitants as a sort of
peace-offering to the Court, or, at least, to die in the breach,
defending a town that was no longer defensible.
Such, I believe, was the general opinion also of the principal
officers and gentlemen engaged in the cause of the Princes; and it
became a very difficult question how to act. Nor were the Bordelais
themselves more decided. A number of generous voices were raised
against the very idea of delivering up the noblemen, who had trusted
them, to their bitter enemies; but the great multitude, which never
knows any mean between rashness and timidity, called loudly upon their
rulers to make peace with the Court at every sacrifice.
From this unpleasant situation both parties were suddenly and
unexpectedly relieved. While the magistrates were in debate in one
place, and the generals were in debate in another, and while the
people, collected in every street and market-place, were murmuring at
their fate, and shouting against those who had brought it upon them,
the news suddenly reached us, that a deputation from the Parliament of
Paris had arrived at the gates, offering to negotiate a treaty between
the defenders of Bordeaux and the besieging force. Every one caught
gladly at the idea; a suspension of hostilities was immediately
granted, and deputies both from the city and the generals returned
with the Parisians to the town of Bourg, at which place the whole
Court was assembled. The Queen, timid and vacillating, did not
understand or believe how completely the city was in her power.
Mazarin, unwilling to bring upon himself the overwhelming odium of
destroying such a number of the noblest families in France as were
then cooped up in the city, did not press for any hard conditions; and
I rather suspect that the Maréchal de Meilleraie, having a great
number of friends amongst the besieged, rested satisfied with feeling
that he had the city in his power, if he were forced to proceed,
without making known the full advantage of his situation to those who
might have been inclined to use it ungenerously.
The result, however, was, that the truce was extended to six days, and
that during that time negotiations were carried on, which terminated
in a treaty of peace, infinitely more favourable than the defenders of
Bordeaux could have hoped or expected. It was agreed that full and
free pardon should be given to all the inhabitants of the town, into
which the Court should enter, unaccompanied by any other troops than
an ordinary guard; that the Princess de Condé and her son might retire
in safety to Montrond, and that a general pardon should be given to
all the other persons concerned directly or indirectly in the
resistance offered by the city to the royal forces, upon the sole
condition that the leaders should solemnly pledge themselves never to
bear arms against the King again.