CHAPTER V.

MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE WINS HER BROTHER CONDE OVER TO THE FRONDE.

THIS first raising of bucklers by the Frondeurs was not of long

duration. At the conclusion of a peace between Mazarin and the

Parliament, a perfect understanding prevailed amongst all the members of

the Conde family. The civil dissensions, however, were sufficiently

prolonged to exhibit the errors of all parties--even those who had

entered therein with virtuous inclinations and intentions, ashamed of

the stains which had tarnished them in the struggle, almost invariably

ended by confining themselves to the narrow circle of individual

interests, and completed their degradation by no longer recognizing any

other motive for their conduct than that of sordid selfishness. All care

for the public weal became extinct; men's hearts were insensible to all

generous sympathy; their minds dead to every elevating impulse--like to

those aromatics which, after diffusing both glow and perfume from their

ardent brazier, lose by combustion all power of further rekindling, and

present nothing else than vile ashes, without heat, light, or odour.

The peace concluded between the Minister and the Fronde was destined to

be of short duration. It was, properly speaking, nothing but a

suspension of arms, and in no degree a suspension of intrigues and

cabals. That suspension of arms, however, had been accompanied by an

amnesty, including all persons except the Coadjutor. The other chief

personages who had played a part in the insurrection of Paris, and who

now proceeded to visit the Court, were by no means warmly received by

the Queen, though Mazarin himself displayed nothing but mildness and

humility. The Duke d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde visited the city;

and the first was received with much enthusiasm by the populace, who

attributed to his counsels the truce of which all parties had stood so

much in need. The Prince de Conde, whose warlike spirit had not only

aided in stirring up the strife at first, but would have protracted it

still further had his advice been listened to, was not looked upon with

the same favour by the Parisians; but the Parliament sent deputations to

them both on their arrival in the city, to compliment them on their

efforts for the restoration of peace.

During Conde's visit to Paris, a reconciliation took place between him

and his fair sister, the Duchess de Longueville. The violent language he

had used to her on various occasions, the imputations he had cast upon

her character, and the harsh nature of the advice which he had given to

her husband concerning her, were all forgotten, and she resumed her

ascendancy over his mind so completely as in a very short time to detach

him entirely from the side of Mazarin, and to lead him, before he

quitted Paris, to speak publicly of the Minister in the scornful and

contemptuous manner in which he was usually treated by the leaders of

the Fronde.

The Duchess de Longueville herself remained as strongly opposed to the

Cardinal as ever. But though she still retained towards Anne of Austria

that dislike which she had always felt, and which the sense of an

inferiority of station greatly augmented in a woman of a haughty and

ambitious character, she found herself obliged, in common propriety, to

appear at Court on the conclusion of the Siege of Paris. The first

visits of her husband and herself, after the insurrection, were rendered

remarkable by the extraordinary degree of embarrassment and timidity

shown by two such bold and fearless persons. The Duke de Longueville

arrived first, coming from Normandy; and was followed by a very numerous

and splendid train, as though he rested for mental support upon the

number of his retainers. The Queen received him in the midst of her

Court, with Mazarin standing beside her; and every one crowded round to

hear what excuses the Duke would offer for abandoning the royal family

at the moment of their greatest need. Longueville, however, approached

the Regent with a troubled and embarrassed air, attempted to speak,

became first deadly pale, and then as red as fire, but could not utter a

word. He then turned and bowed to Mazarin, who came forward, spoke to

him, and led him to a window, where they conversed for some time

together in private; after which they visited each other frequently, and

became apparent friends.

The reception of the proud and beautiful Duchess at St. Germain, though

not so public, was not less embarrassing. The Queen had lain down on her

bed when the Duchess was announced, and, as was customary in those days,

received her in that situation. Madame de Longueville was naturally very

apt to blush, and the frequent variation of her complexion added

greatly, we are told, to the dazzling character of her beauty. Her

blushes, however, on approaching the Queen, became painful; all that she

could utter was a few confused sentences, of which the Queen could not

understand a word, and those were pronounced in so low a tone that

Madame de Motteville, who listened attentively, could distinguish

nothing but the word _Madame_.

As there was no sincerity in these reconciliations, it is not surprising

to find that ere long the conduct of the Prince de Conde gave no slight

uneasiness to Mazarin. The Prince had, however, brought back the Court

to Paris; but from that very day he had shown a great change in his

attitude, and it is to the influence of La Rochefoucauld that such

change must be attributed. At that moment, in fact, the Sieur Conde had

become reconciled with every member of his family, and even with his

sister's lover. He drew closer also the links between himself and the

Duke d'Orleans, for whom he shewed great deference, say his

contemporaries, and he began to treat Mazarin with much indifference,

rallying him publicly, and declaring aloud that he regretted to have

maintained him in a post of which he was so little worthy. Enjoying a

great military reputation, feared and esteemed by the bulk of his

countrymen, he chafed at seeing himself compromised by the unpopularity

of the Cardinal. He thought that by drawing closer to the _Frondeurs_,

he should rid himself of the feeling that oppressed him. In the outset,

he had no idea of actively joining that faction, but his sister did the

rest, and hurried him on to become the enemy of that party of which he

had just been the saviour.

It is true that, for the memorable service which he had recently

rendered, Conde reaped scarcely any benefit; but his noble conduct

increased the splendour of his last campaign of 1648. It added to his

military titles those of defender and saviour of the throne, of

pacificator of the realm, of arbiter and enlightened conciliator of

parties. It gave the climax to his credit and to his glory.

Nevertheless, he did not lose sight of the jealous feeling to which

such claims gave birth, whether on the part of the Duke d'Orleans or the

Prime Minister; and he well knew that he was exposed to one of those

_coups d'etat_, the necessity of which the Chancellor as well as himself

had urged at Rueil. He considered himself as the head of the nobility,

and that important body seemed to constitute all the military power of

the State. But the French nobility was just beginning to lose its former

independence of character in becoming more courtierlike. Instead of

deriving from its strongholds and vassals the feeling of its strength

and equality, it showed itself ambitious of such distinctions as the

monarch could confer. In the indulgence of its vanity it lost sight of

its proper pride; and if that new emulation which the Bourbons had

excited was more easy for the sovereign to satisfy, it was more

difficult for the chief of a party to direct. Moreover, Conde, as the

Duchess de Nemours remarks, knew better how to win battles than

hearts.[1] He found a dangerous pleasure, as did his sister the Duchess

de Longueville, in braving malevolence. "In matters of consequence, they

delighted to thwart people, and in ordinary life they were so

impracticable that there was no getting on with them. They had such a

habit of ridiculing one, and of saying offensive things, that nobody

could put up with them. When visits were paid to them, they allowed such

a scornful ennui to be visible, and showed so openly that their visitors

bored them, that it was not difficult to understand that they did

everything in their power to get rid of their company. Whatsoever might

be the rank or quality of the visitors, people were made to wait any

length of time in the Prince's antechamber; and very often, after having

long waited, everybody was sent away without getting an interview,

however short. When they were displeased they pushed people to the

utmost extremity, and they were incapable of showing any gratitude for

services done them. Thus they were alike hated by the Court, by the

Fronde, and by the populace, and nobody could live with them long. All

France impatiently suffered their irritating conduct, and especially

their pride, which was excessive."[2]

[1] Duchesse de Nemours, tom., xxxiv. p. 437.

[2] The Duchess de Nemours was a daughter of the Duke de

Longueville, by his first wife, and as she lived with her

step-mother, the Duchess de Longueville, on very indifferent terms,

her unsparing censure must by no means be implicitly received.

In looking at the faulty side of Conde's character, we must not forget

to observe the disinterested firmness with which, without considering

either his family or his friends, he had hitherto acted in the interests

of the King. Happy would it have been, if, after having thus terminated

this sad civil war, he had quitted the Court and its intrigues to seek

other battlefields, and to finish another war somewhat more useful and

glorious to France--that which still remained with Spain! Happy, also

for Madame de Longueville, if, taught by her own conscience, in her last

interview with the Queen, and by the shameful _denouement_ of the

miserable intrigues of which she had the secret, instead of still

serving as their instrument, she had shown her courage in resisting

them. Happy too, if, after all the proofs of devotion which she had just

given to La Rochefoucauld, she had firmly represented to him that, even

for his own interest, a different course was necessary; that it would be

better to look for fortune and honours by rendering himself esteemed

than by trying to make himself feared; that ambition as well as duty

showed his place to be by the side of Conde, in the service of the

State and of the King; that it was easy for him to obtain in the army

some post where he would simply have to march forward and do his duty,

trusting to his courage and his other merits!

But even if Anne de Bourbon had been wise enough to speak thus to La

Rochefoucauld, she would not have succeeded in gaining his ear. His

restless spirit, his ever-discontented vanity, pursuing by turns the

most dissimilar objects, because it selected none within its reach--that

_undefinable something_ which, as De Retz says, was in La Rochefoucauld,

made him abandon the high and direct roads, and led him into by-paths

full of pitfalls and precipices. Through such perilous ways we shall see

the infatuated woman following and aiding him in his extravagant and

guilty designs. Receiving the law instead of giving it, she strives to

promote the passion of another by devoting to his service all her

coquetry as well as greatness of soul, her penetration and intrepidity,

her attractive sweetness and indomitable energy. She undertakes to

mislead Conde, to rob France of the conqueror of Rocroy and of Lens, and

to give him to Spain.

Political Women, Vol. 1 · 第 5 / 8 章