apartment which was rarely opened. It had formerly been occupied
by Madame d’Orléans, better known under the name of the Abbess of
Chelles.[77] From her youth she had been destined to the cloister,
which certainly was not her vocation. After a short novitiate she
pronounced her vows, and was named Abbess of the Abbaye-aux-Bois.
Her remarkable beauty recalled that of her grandmother, Madame de
Montespan, but her haughty and violent temper and ungovernable passions
soon made her the terror and shame of the Convent, and at the time that
Hélène was writing the end of her _Memoirs_ Madame d’Orleáns’ apartment
was still a source of dread to the pupils.
“It was asserted,” says Hélène, “that shrieks and sounds of beating,
and the rattle of chains, could be heard in the Orléans’ apartment, and
it was said that Madame d’Orléans’ soul came back there in order to
expiate all the evil she had done during her lifetime.
“People were so afraid of these rooms that they never entered them
except a number at a time; and Sister Huon, having once gone in
alone to sweep, found marks of blood in the bedroom, and was nearly
suffocated by a strong smell of sulphur. She immediately fetched some
of the others, but they saw nothing.
“When this apartment has to be cleaned, which is only twice a year,
for no one ever occupies it, five or six people go in at the same time
to sweep. There are I know not how many rooms of an immense size, all
opening into each other, and it is dangerous to be there alone. The
apartment is only opened for strangers, to show them the ceilings,
which are beautifully painted, and the magnificent high warp tapestry
on the walls, representing the histories of Esther and Judith. It is
said that these tapestries are the finest the Gobelin manufactory have
ever produced.”
Madame d’Orléans had left cruel memories of her stay at the
Abbaye-aux-Bois.
“It was said,” continues the young Princess, “that in the time of
Madame d’Orléans, who was a monster of cruelty, she had caused some of
the nuns to be nearly beaten to death; others she had had shut up; and
sometimes she made them chant the services the whole night through.
“Meanwhile M. le Régent would come to her rooms, and she would spend
the night in laughing and amusing herself, eating and perpetrating
all sorts of follies before the young nuns she had chosen as her
companions. She said that she made the ladies spend their nights in
prayer in order to expiate the sins she committed. It is also said that
she used to take off all her clothes, and send for the nuns to admire
her, for she was the most beautiful woman of her time. She took baths
of milk, and the next day had it distributed among her nuns at the
refectory, ordering them by their vows of obedience to drink it.
“At last her excesses reached such a point that the nuns made a formal
complaint, and they were told she would be transferred to the Abbaye of
Chelles.
“M. le Régent came himself to bring her the king’s commands, and
told her that ‘she had so persecuted her unfortunate nuns that their
complaints had reached the ear of the king; and that, notwithstanding
his tenderness for her, he felt compelled to move her to another
abbey, for the public feeling would be aroused if he did not do justice
to these ladies.’ Then Madame d’Orléans was in despair; she wept,
she implored her father to let her remain at the Abbaye-aux-Bois,
and promised that henceforth her rule should be as gentle as it had
hitherto been cruel and despotic. But the Regent was inexorable, and
told her she must be ready to leave for Chelles in a few days. When she
saw that she could not win him over, she called the Chapter together,
and going down on her knees before the nuns, entreated them to petition
Government in her behalf, promising them that they should never again
have to complain of her conduct.
“The Prioress at that time was a Madame de Noailles. She came forward
and said these words, which have been repeated to us a hundred times:
‘We have borne without murmuring, Madame, the cruel penalties you
indicted upon us. Blindly submissive to your will, we only saw in our
sufferings the hand of God laid heavily upon us. The respect which we
have for you, and our attachment to the family you belong to, make us
feel that it is a great misfortune not to end our days under your rule.
But, in the same way that we should have been to blame had we refused
to accept the afflictions God sent us, so likewise it would be tempting
Providence if we sought the storm when it pleases Him to restore us to
peace. We trust that you will find happiness where you are destined
to live, and this, Madame, will be the object of our prayers and
supplications.’
“Madame d’Orléans, seeing by this speech and the attitude of the nuns
that she had nothing to hope for from them, got up like a fury and
returned to her rooms.
“A few days later M. de la Tourdonnet, secretary for the commands of
the Regent, and Madame la Duchesse de Villequier, came to tell her
that her father’s carriages were ready, and that she must leave for
Chelles; but she declared she would not go. In vain Madame la Duchesse
de Villequier tried every form of persuasion, she could not prevail on
her to leave. So they returned to M. le Régent, who said ‘that when
gentle measures failed, strong ones must be used.’ He then sent with M.
de la Tourdonnet and Madame de Villequier his captain of the guards,
M. de Lyonne, and two officers; and Madame d’Orléans was informed that
these persons had orders to put her in the carriage. When she heard
this, she completely undressed herself, got into bed, sent for M. de
Lyonne, and asked who would be bold enough to lay hands on a daughter
of the royal blood of France. M. de Lyonne, much embarrassed, returned
to M. le Régent, who sent Madame la Princesse de Conti with orders
to try and call his daughter to reason, and if she did not succeed
to have her wrapped up in her mattresses and carried away. So Madame
la Princesse de Conti came, and by tears and entreaties at length
prevailed on her to leave. She was conducted to Chelles, a distance of
four leagues from Paris, where she retained the title of Lady Abbess,
but without any authority. Some time after, the Abbey of Saint Anthony
of Paris becoming vacant, she asked for it, and it was granted to her,
but under the same conditions, namely, that she should have merely an
honorary title. She died a few years later, and asked to be buried at
the Abbaye-aux-Bois, which request was granted. Her body lies in the
choir, under a mausoleum of white marble.[78]
“There was in the Abbaye-aux-Bois, over the fireplace in the Community
Hall, a very fine portrait of Madame d’Orléans. She was represented
standing, with crowns and sceptres trampled beneath her feet; in one
hand holding a crucifix, and with the other taking from an altar a
crown of thorns. A peculiarity of this picture was, that though she was
dressed as a nun, her feet were bare.”
It hardly seems likely that the Abbess of Chelles would have busied
herself with theological discussions. She, however, professed very
decided Jansenist opinions. Her father the Regent strongly supported
the Jansenists, out of opposition to the Court party, who belonged to
the opposite sect; he probably inculcated his ideas to his daughter,
and either under the influence of their Abbess, or that of their
directors, the Abbaye-aux-Bois had become entirely Jansenist. The nuns
expressed their opinions so openly that the Convent was put under an
interdict during the last years of Madame de Richelieu’s rule. However,
they got back into favour, and Monseigneur de Beaumont,[79] who was the
avowed enemy of the Jansenists, consented to give confirmation to the
young pupils of the Abbaye-aux-Bois in the year 1777. Hélène gives a
faithful account of this event, which agitated the whole Convent, and
not one detail of which escapes her keen observation.
“I was at that time being prepared for my confirmation, for I was to be
confirmed at Whitsuntide.
“His Grace the Archbishop was to come that day, and as Mother Quatre
Temps was supposed to be very Jansenist, I bethought myself to say, in
order to please her, that I feared his Grace the Archbishop, instead
of confirming me in the Holy Spirit, would confirm me in the evil
one. Instead of scolding me, Mother Quatre Temps laughed extremely
at this joke, and, delighted at having said such a witty thing, I
went and repeated it all over the house. Mother Saint Ambrose, regent
of the abbey-house, held very strong Molinist opinions, and when my
joke came to her ears she complained to Madame de Rochechouart, who
sent for me and rated me soundly. She decided that I should not be
confirmed then, and I was only confirmed the following year. I took at
my confirmation the names of Alexandrienne-Emanuelle. On Whitsunday,
after having officiated at Mass and confirmed the pupils, His Grace
the Archbishop entered the Abbey. The Lady Abbess, with her crozier
and all the community, received him at the gate, and he visited all
the establishment, even the schoolrooms. It is the custom for all the
nuns to come forward, one after the other, and kiss his episcopal ring,
but many of them avoided doing so. I even saw several, who, carried
away by party feeling, stood behind his back and put out their tongues
at him. He went into the library, which is very fine; it consists of
three rooms opening into each other containing thirty thousand volumes,
and some very curious manuscripts. It is said that the nuns possess
Jansenius’s writings in the original edition, but they are not in the
library, and are no doubt carefully concealed. When his Grace the
Archbishop came to the library he sat down. Madame Sainte Delphine, who
was head librarian, did the honours of the place. He was shown some
handsome books, bound in vellum and ornamented with miniatures. He saw
that some of the presses had their curtains drawn, and inquired what
was in them. He was told that they contained romances and books on
literature. He desired to see them, so the presses were opened and he
admired the beauty of the editions, amongst others _The Romance of the
Rose_ and the _Holy Grail_, which had magnificent miniatures. He asked
how it came that books of that kind formed part of a convent library,
for they had certainly not been purchased. Then Madame Sainte Delphine
replied that formerly a great many people had on their death bequeathed
their libraries to the Convent; that Madame d’Orléans had for her part
given hers, which contained a great many books of this kind. Passing
on to the shelves where the works of Nicole, Arnaud, Pascal, and other
Fathers of Port Royal were ranged, the Archbishop said: ‘These have
turned many a brain, and will turn many more.’ On passing the division
containing the works of the Fathers of the Church, he remarked that
many shelves were empty, and asked the reason. Madame Sainte Delphine
said that several of the ladies had got the books. He expressed his
surprise that women should take pleasure in reading scholastic works
written in Latin, and said: ‘I am not astonished at my curates telling
me that they are a better match for the doctors of the Sorbonne than
for the ladies of the Abbaye-aux-Bois.’ He asked laughingly where
Jansenius and the writings of Father Quesnel were usually kept. Madame
Sainte Delphine replied that those books were not in the catalogue
which was under her charge.
“Then he inquired whether she had ever seen these works in the house.
She replied that for some years past they had been so questioned about
this Jansenius that, even if they had not possessed his works, they
would have tried to procure them, as it is against all conscience to
speak evil of a person unless you are certain that he deserves it; and
that it could only be the obligation under which they were to answer
questions which made them read works so far from entertaining as those
of Jansenius. After this the Archbishop left. Two days later he sent
his curates, who had all the theological books returned to the library,
locked up the shelves, and sealed them with the Archbishop’s seal,
which the ladies were forbidden to remove. The ladies then said that
in the interior of their establishment they recognised no authority
but that of the Abbot of Cîteaux or Clairvaux, their superior. They
wrote to him on the subject; he immediately sent two visitors of the
order, who complained to his Grace the Archbishop, telling him that
his authority could only be exercised with regard to the steps the
nuns might take outside their Convent, but that the interior was under
the sole jurisdiction of Cîteaux or Clairvaux.[80] As his Grace the
Archbishop was afraid the affair might be brought before Parliament,
he sent to remove the seals; then the visitors assembled the Chapter.
I do not know what took place; I only know that when they separated
they left the Abbey as well pleased with the nuns as the nuns were with
them. Shortly after the Abbot of Clairvaux sent an immense quantity of
Burgundy wine as a present to the Convent.
“We resolved at that time to give a performance in honour of Madame
de Rochechouart, on her fête or Saint’s Day, which was the 15th of
August, Mary being her name. We wanted to get it up with more care than
usual, so that it might be a success. So we acted _Esther_. I took that
part. Mademoiselle de Choiseul was Mordecai, Mademoiselle de Châtillon
Ahasuerus, and Mademoiselle de Chauvigny was Haman. Our costumes
were copied from those of the _Comédie Française_. I had a white and
silver dress, the skirt of which was fastened with diamonds from top
to bottom; I had on more than one hundred thousand écus’[81] worth of
diamonds, having all those of Mesdames de Mortemart, de Gramont, and
of Madame la Duchesse de Choiseul. It was the Vicomtesse de Laval who
dressed me. I had a mantle of pale blue velvet and a gold crown. All
the pupils in the chorus had white muslin dresses and veils. Before
the play, still wearing the simple costume of the Convent, I advanced
and pronounced the following words:--
“Nous sommes en un lieu par la grâce habité,
Où l’on vit dans la paix et la tranquillité.
L’innocence, qui fut leur compagne éternelle
S’y plaît et n’eut jamais d’asile plus fidèle.
“À MADAME DE ROCHECHOUART.
“Tout un peuple naissant est formé par vos mains.
Vous jetez dans son cœur la sémence féconde
Des vertus dont il doit sanctifier le monde.
Ce Dieu qui vous protège, ici du haut des cieux
A commis à vos soins ce dépôt précieux.
C’est lui qui rassembla ces colombes timides
Afin que vous soyez leur secours et leur guide.
* * * * *
We live in a place where grace inhabits,
Where one dwells in peace and tranquillity.
And innocence, their eternal companion,
Is happy in this her safest refuge.
TO MADAME DE ROCHECHOUART.
An entire people is formed by your hands.
You sow in its heart the fruitful seed
Of virtues which will sanctify the world.
God, who from the heavens protects you here
Has committed this precious charge to your care.
It is He who gathered these doves together
For you to be their guide and their succour.
Grand Dieu que ses bienfaits aient place en ta mémoire!
Que les soins qu’elle prend pour soutenir ta gloire,
Soient gravés de ta main au livre où sont écrits
Les noms prédestinés de ceux que tu chéris!
Tu m’écoutes, ma voix ne t’est point étrangère,
Je t’implore souvent pour celle qui m’est chère;
Elle-même t’envoie ses plus tendres soupirs;
Le feu de ton amour allume ses désirs.
Le zèle qui l’anime au lever de l’aurore,
Au coucher du soleil, pour toi l’enflamme encore.
Tu la vois tous les jours donner de grands exemples,
Baiser avec respect le pavé de tes temples.
O vous, qui vous plaisez aux folles passions
Qu’allument dans vos cœurs de vaines fictions
Profanes amateurs de spectacles frivoles
Dont l’oreille s’ennuie au son de mes paroles,
* * * * *
Great God! may her goodness be remembered by Thee!
May the care with which she supports Thy glory
Be engraved by Thy hand in the book where are written
The predestined names of those Thou dost cherish!
Thou will’st hearken to my voice, it is not strange to Thee,
Oft I implore Thee for her who is dear to me;
She herself gives Thee her tenderest sighs;
The fire of Thy love is all her desire.
The zeal which fills her at rise of dawn
Still flames for Thee at set of sun.
Thou dost see her each day give great examples,
Kiss with respect the pavement of Thy temples.
Oh you who rejoice in mad passion,
Aroused in your heart by vain fictions,
Profane admirers of frivolous shows,
Whose ear is wearied with the sound of these words,
* * * * *
Fuyez de nos plaisirs la sainte austérité:
Tout respire ici Dieu, la paix, la vérité.[82]
* * * * *
Flee from our pleasures full of saintly austerity:
All here breathes of God, of peace, and pure verity.
“I cried towards the end, and Madame de Rochechouart also. The
chorus was sung and a ballet was danced while I dressed. After the
performance, as soon as she saw me, Madame de Rochechouart held out her
arms to me; I rushed into them, and she folded me to her heart. She did
not hide her great partiality for me.
“I was so happy at that time that I should have been glad for it to
last for ever. I had at last been appointed to the dispensary,[83]
which had been the summit of my ambition, and I lived there very
pleasantly. I was with Madame de Choiseul, Mesdemoiselles de Conflans,
Mademoiselle de Montsauge, and Mademoiselle de Damas, all of whom were
pretty and amiable.
“Among the nuns Madame de Saint Côme was a person of rare amiability;
Madame de Saint Laurent, who was of the Cossé family, was witty and
scatterbrained. Madame Sainte Marguerite, who was only sixteen years
old, had just taken her vows, and thought only of amusing herself.
Madame Sainte Véronique was a ridiculous old woman, without a particle
of common sense, and that in itself was a source of amusement.
Madame de Saint Côme taught us botany; she taught us to know all the
different plants and their virtues. In the evening we went to Madame de
Rochechouart’s. I would have liked to have spent my life in that way.
“I have said that there were six of us in the dispensary. Here are our
portraits, all faithful likenesses: Madame la Duchesse de Choiseul,
fifteen years old, married, pretty, amiable, bright, witty, but
satirical, violent, and hot-tempered. Mademoiselle Hélène Massalska
(myself), fourteen years old, pretty, clever, graceful, stylish, a good
figure, as stubborn as the Pope’s mule, and incapable of controlling
her first impulse. Mademoiselle de Damas,[84] pretty, most graceful,
but with more jargon than wit, sixteen years of age. Mademoiselle
de Montsauge, the most beautiful eyes in the world, but with a
dark complexion, gentle, witty, fifteen years old. Mademoiselle de
Conflans,[85] rather pretty, remarkably brilliant and full of wit, aged
fifteen. Her sister, Mademoiselle de Vaudreuil, was not pretty; she
tried to copy her sister, but was far from being so clever.
“One morning, Madame de Rochechouart said to me: ‘Hélène, come to me
at six o’clock; I want to speak to you.’ I went therefore, according
to the order I had received; but she only said to me: ‘My dear child,
I am very sorry, but I cannot talk to you now; my head is burning, and
I feel feverish; you must go away, and I must go to bed.’ I returned
to the dispensary, which was my department, and said that I had found
Madame de Rochechouart ill. As this was very seldom the case with her,
Madame de Ferrière and Madame de Cossé, the second and third dispensary
nuns, went to her immediately. When Madame de Ferrière returned she
told us she had found Madame de Rochechouart in a high fever. We were
all seized with the greatest apprehension; on going to the refectory we
carried the news to all the class, and the consternation was general.
After supper Sister Léonard, who waited on Madame de Rochechouart,
came with a message from her to say our names would not be called
over; and we went sorrowfully to bed. The next day, on going down to
the schoolroom, we were told that the fever had increased, and that
Madame de Rochechouart was going to be taken to the infirmary. Then we
all burst into tears; Madame de Choiseul, Mesdemoiselles de Conflans,
myself, and a few others were in dreadful grief. The Duchesse de
Mortemart[86] came in the afternoon, bringing with her Bouvart[87] and
Lorry.[88] The same evening Madame de Rochechouart became delirious,
and remained in that state till the eve of her death.
“Meanwhile, the masters were dismissed, we left off playing at any
games, and were in a state of utter despair. Every hour one of the
pupils went to ask for news at the infirmary. The Lady Abbess went
herself every day to see her. The Duc de Mortemart and his brother were
admitted.[89] The Duchesse de Mortemart remained day and night by her
beside. Mademoiselle de Mortemart seemed sad, but less afflicted than
we were: it is true that her aunt had never cared much for her. At
last, after eleven days of continuous fever, the doctors declared that
she could not recover, and that the Sacraments must be administered as
soon as she should become conscious.
“The following day, the twelfth of her illness, towards the morning,
she appeared to recover consciousness. She was asked, by way of
precaution, if she would not receive the Sacraments, and she made a
sign of assent. They were therefore administered, and although it
is the custom for the pupils to assist at these ceremonies from the
passage of the infirmary, as it was feared that our cries might be
heard from her room, and that some of us might try to see her, we were
conducted during that time to the choir.
“At night her agony began; but they did not toll the bell, as is
customary at such moments, partly because of the pupils, and also on
account of Madame Sainte Delphine, who had fallen into a state of
stupor. From the moment she had seen her sister’s illness take a fatal
turn she had not left the foot of her bed, but after the Sacraments had
been administered, the Duchesse de Mortemart conferred in a low voice
with the Lady Abbess, and told Madame Sainte Delphine that she begged
her not to spend the night in the infirmary. The Lady Abbess told her
she insisted on her going, and gave orders to Madame Saint Sulpice
not to leave her. So she was taken to the dispensary, where we all,
belonging to that department, spent the night in weeping.
“The Lady Abbess was informed, as she requested, that Madame de
Rochechouart was at the point of death. Her confessor, Dom Thémines,
had not left her side. The Duchesse de Mortemart was in the Abbess’s
rooms, for she would not leave the Convent. When they came to call the
Lady Abbess she begged to go with her, but the Lady Abbess implored
her not to come, and she sent word to the Duc de Mortemart to come
immediately. He arrived, having on the previous day asked for a
permission from his Grace the Archbishop to take Madame Sainte Delphine
away from the Convent if her sister died. At about eight o’clock in the
morning Madame de Rochechouart, who had not spoken a word since the
Sacraments had been administered, asked for her sister. They told her
that she was not there, but that they would fetch her.
“‘Raise my pillows,’ she said. Madame de Verrue and Madame de
Domangeville, first and second infirmary nuns, did so; then she took
hold of Madame de Verrue’s arm, and said: ‘Oh, what pain! I am dying!’
and she expired. The class had just come down, and Madame de Royer had
said that Madame de Rochechouart was not dead, so that we did not know
but what there might still be hope. As soon as she had expired, the
Lady Abbess left the infirmary, in order to convey the intelligence
to Madame la Duchesse and her son. The Duchess fainted away. When she
came to herself again they said there was nothing else to do but to put
Madame Sainte Delphine in a carriage and take her away. So a carriage
with six horses was sent for; when it arrived, Madame de Mortemart
went to the dispensary, where Madame Sainte Delphine had remained,
as yet unconscious of her sister’s death. Madame de Mortemart told
her nothing, but simply gave her the Archbishop’s permit to remain
three months out of the Convent. Madame Sainte Delphine immediately
understood what that meant, and had a violent attack of hysterics. At
last they managed to put her into the carriage, and convey her into the
country at Everli, where she spent one month. The other two she spent
at Paraclet, with her sister, and then returned to the Abbaye-aux-Bois.
“The Lady Abbess sent Madame de Villiers with orders to Madame de Royer
to announce the news to the pupils, but we already suspected it. She
came forward, when each of us had taken our places, and said: ‘Young
ladies, it has pleased God to recall to Himself our beloved Madame de
Rochechouart. Offer up to Him the sacrifice of your legitimate grief,
and pray for the repose of her soul.’ Then we asked to be taken to the
choir, where we recited the prayers for the dead.
“We had been so deeply attached to the person of Madame de
Rochechouart that we obtained permission not to appear in the
schoolroom either that day or the next, on which she was to be buried.
“The class did not follow her funeral, but passed the time in prayer.
She was to have been buried in the cloister, as all the nuns are, but
the family requested that the body should be placed in one of the
chapels of the choir, which was accordingly done. A slab of black
marble covers her tomb. Each pupil had two Masses said for her soul,
and she had a magnificent funeral at the expense of her family.
“It now became necessary to elect another mistress-general, but nobody
wished to take the office, each one dreading the comparisons which
would be made by the pupils. Some of them wished to have Madame de
Royer, but she would not accept. We wanted Madame Sainte Delphine, but
she was certainly not equal to the work; she was far too indolent.
“At last, on the day fixed for the meeting of the Chapter to decide on
the appointment, a novice came at three o’clock from the community, to
tell the class that the ladies begged us to pray that the light of the
Holy Ghost might guide them in the choice they were about to make of
a mistress-general. We immediately all knelt down, and after a short
silence sang the _Veni Creator_.
“At six o’clock the Lady Abbess came to the schoolroom; we placed
ourselves in our stalls, and she addressed us as follows: ‘Young
ladies, I have come to express to you my grief at the loss we have
sustained, and at the same time inform you that the ladies have
endeavoured to retrieve it as far as in them lay. They have elected
Madame de Voyers, second mistress of the novices, in the place of
Madame de Rochechouart.’ We made no reply to the Lady Abbess, but
merely bowed, and she left the room.
“Shortly after Madame de Voyers, conducted by Madame de Royer, came
in; she had a fine figure, and enjoyed much consideration in the
novitiate. She was about forty years of age. She said: ‘Young ladies, I
feel that my presence here can hardly be agreeable to you. I know how
difficult is the task that lies before me. I pray you to make it easier
by placing your confidence in me. The regrets that you rightly accord
to the memory of Madame de Rochechouart are a credit both to you and to
her; I cannot flatter myself that I shall worthily replace her, but I
ask you to rest assured that I shall make every effort to do so.’
“This little speech, made with much sincerity of manner, touched us; we
applauded vehemently, and asked permission to kiss her hand. She begged
us to embrace her, and on the following day everything resumed its
usual course.
“For my own part, I never loved her, and in truth I was to blame, for
she deserved our affection. Madame de Rochechouart’s death was the
cause of my first wish to leave the Convent.”
Here the _Memoirs_ written by the young Princess during her stay at
the Abbaye-aux-Bois come to an end. Henceforth we shall have ourselves
to relate the history of her life; drawing the materials of our story
from her own correspondence and that of her family, from her notebook,
and other sources of information discovered by diligent and patient
research.
FOOTNOTES:
[77] Louise-Adélaïde de Chartres, grand-daughter of Louis XIV. and of
Madame de Montespan, second daughter of the Regent Philippe d’Orléans,
and of Mademoiselle de Blois, born the 13th August 1698, died the
20th February 1743. She was eighteen years of age when she became
Abbess of the Abbaye-aux-Bois, and one-and-twenty when made Abbess of
Chelles. (_Vide_ the Correspondence of Madame la Duchesse d’Orléans née
Princesse Palatine.)
[78] Hélène’s account differs from that of Madame, the Regent’s mother.
She was fond of her grand-daughter, and does not describe her in such
dark colours. She never mentions her stay at the Abbaye-aux-Bois, and
only speaks of her installation at Chelles. The perfect accuracy of
those portions of Hélène’s narrative which we have been able to verify
gives great weight to her account of the facts.
[79] Christophe de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, Peer of the Realm,
_Duc de Saint Cloud_ (this latter title belonged to that of the
Archbishopric of Paris). His archbishopric brought him in a hundred and
eighty thousand francs a year, and he had in his gift four hundred and
ninety-two livings. This prelate, whose conduct towards the Jansenists
was so harsh and even sometimes so violent, was admirable in private
life for his gentleness, his equanimity of character, and for his
liberality. Born the 26th July 1703 in the Château de la Roque, in
Périgord, he died on the 12th December 1781.
[80] By the agreement signed between the Pope Leon X. and Francis I.
the nominations to all the Abbeys of France belonged to the King, with
the exception of those of Cluny, _Cîteaux_, Prémontré, and Grandmont,
which were reserved and their abbots appointed by the Pope.
[81] An écu was worth five shillings.
[82] This curious mixture of the prologue of _Esther_ and other lines
of Racine was arranged by M. de la Harpe.
[83] The dispensary. This department consisted of--(1) A large room
lined with shelves on which were the medicines; (2) Two immense rooms
with two chimneys and four alembics.
[84] Mademoiselle de Damas was the sister of the Comte Royer de Damas,
of whom we shall speak later on. The Damas family showed the greatest
devotion to the cause of King Louis XVIII. during the emigration.
[85] Afterwards Marquise de Coigny, one of the wittiest ladies of the
Court of Louis XVI.
[86] Charlotte de Manneville, Dowager-Duchess of Mortemart,
sister-in-law to Madame de Rochechouart.
[87] Bouvart (Mich.-Ph.), born at Chartres, 11th January 1711, died
the 19th January 1787. He was professor at the College of France,
and a great enemy of the system of inoculation; he is supposed to
have been the author of the act of accusation brought against Joly de
Fleury for this innovation. “This Bouvart,” writes Grimm, “a legalised
assassin in the streets of Paris, is only too glad, by way of pastime,
to insult his fellow-members, and even to get up some little criminal
cases against them. It is he who attacked Tronchin, accused Bordeu of
stealing a watch and sleeve-links off a dead body, and who fought with
Petit.” It is certain that Bouvart was detested by all his colleagues,
but at the same time he was the most fashionable medical man in Paris.
[88] Lorry (Anne-Charles), President of the Faculty of Paris, born the
10th October 1726, at Crosne, near Paris, died at Bourbonne les Bains
the 18th September 1783. His character formed a striking contrast
with that of Bouvart. His gentleness, kindness, and the compassionate
interest he took in his patients, brought him great success. Hating
discussions, he was occasionally reproached with giving way too readily
to the opinions of his fellow-doctors. He never aimed at making a
fortune, and died poor.
[89] Victorien-Jean-Baptiste-Marie de Rochechouart, born 8th
February 1752, died 14th July 1812. He had married Mademoiselle de
Cossé-Brissac. His brother, the Marquis de Rochechouart, born in 1753,
died in 1823.
PART II
THE PRINCESS CH. DE LIGNE
I
The Prince-Bishop and Stanislaus-Augustus--The Diet in 1773--Second
dismemberment of Poland--Prince Xavier and his tutor.
We must now return to the Bishop of Wilna, and see what had befallen
him since 1772. We left him settled in Paris, as though he intended
to remain there for life. Through his amiable disposition, cultivated
mind, and taste for science and erudition, he formed many ties there.
He was even made an Associated Member of the Academy of _Inscriptions_
and _Belles Lettres_, and Madame Geoffrin, certain of her influence
over him, was persuaded that he no longer meddled with politics. She
little understood the changeable and restless mind of her protégé.
Since the month of January 1773 the Prince-Bishop had left Paris, and
the following is a letter Madame Geoffrin received from the King of
Poland:--
_16th April 1773._
“The Bishop Massalski, after having urgently requested my uncle to
judge his cause, after having refused to give him colleagues, as my
uncle had himself proposed, has induced the Austrian minister to
interfere by means of the authority, or rather the power, which his
Court exercises in Poland, in order to prevent his suit being judged
by my uncle, who, if the truth be known, is only too glad to be rid of
the whole business. This inconsiderate conduct has greatly discredited
the Bishop. It is a pity, for I have always said that there is a great
deal of good in this Bishop.”
Madame Geoffrin, although very much embarrassed at having to explain
the Bishop’s conduct, endeavoured still to find excuses for him.
MADAME GEOFFRIN TO THE KING.
_2d May 1773_
“I will at once answer your Majesty about the Bishop of Wilna. It
is true that he has an amiable and gentle disposition that becomes
him in society; but his character is so weak that he is incapable of
keeping the resolutions he makes with the best intentions. The first
person who cajoles him, or who raises the least suspicion in his
mind, distracts him, so that he does not know on what he can rely. He
has written to me, and I could see that he was in a great fright on
writing to inform me of the new aspect of his affairs. He fears that
this may estrange your Majesty from his cause. I assured him of the
contrary, and told him I was certain that your Majesty and also the
Prince Chancellor would be very glad to avoid judging this affair,
which in all probability never will be tried.
“He has left us the Abbé Baudeau, to whom, as well as to Colonel
Saint Leu, he had made the most splendid promises. They are both much
attached to his person; and if he forgets them I do not know what will
become of them. Saint Leu is perfectly devoted to the Bishop.”
Meanwhile nearly all the exiled senators who had taken part in the
Confederation of Bar were restored to favour, and returned to Poland to
take their seats in the Senate. The Bishop of Wilna arrived amongst the
first.
THE KING STANISLAUS-AUGUSTUS TO MADAME GEOFFRIN.
“The Bishop of Wilna, when writing to inform you that my uncle would
not judge his business, might have informed you also of several
other changes in his conduct and in his principles. He is now the
intimate friend of those who, not satisfied with having despoiled me
of three-quarters of my kingdom, are anxious to deprive me to a very
great extent of my royal prerogatives.
“Moreover the appointment of a Permanent Council is contemplated,
which will grant pardons instead of the King, and superintend,
besides, all the transactions that take place between the Diets.
“Such are their intentions with regard to us. I was only informed of
their decision at the opening of the Diet by the three Powers who have
dismembered the kingdom.”
The creation of the Permanent Council that the King dreaded was
decided in August 1774. The delegations of Poland had resumed their
sittings on the 1st of August. The ministers of the three Powers were
present at the Assembly, and proposed the plan of a Permanent Council.
The scheme met with the most strenuous opposition in the following
sittings, especially on the part of the Lithuanian deputies; however,
it was reported that the King had already given his consent to the
establishment of the council, and deputies were immediately sent to his
Majesty in order to hear him confirm this rumour. The report was true:
the King with his customary weakness had submitted. Pleading illness,
he begged for a delay of several days, during which time he secretly
hoped that the Bishop of Wilna would persuade the Lithuanian deputies
to consent to the scheme.[90] Some slight modifications were made
and urged by the foreign ministers, the King and the delegation were
obliged to assent, and on the 7th of August the project was signed.
This may be considered as the date of the overthrowing of the ancient
Polish constitution, and of the utter annihilation of the sovereign
power.
The Bishop of Wilna had returned to Paris with a portfolio crammed full
of schemes: “He had consulted all the philosophers of the time on the
state of Poland, and brought back plans borrowed from Rousseau and
Mably, etc. He fancied he would find the salvation of his country in
the abstract paradoxes of the former, or in the democratic delirium of
the latter; and the confused state of his mind, open to every theory,
exposed him to numerous delusions.”[91]
He was named a member of the Permanent Council, and the King had little
reason to be satisfied with his conduct. In the Warsaw paper called
_Journal Encyclopédique_ we find the following: “As for the Bishops of
Cajavia and Wilna, they persist in distinguishing themselves by their
constant opposition to the King’s wishes.”
Madame Geoffrin also writes to the King:--
_19th September._
“As long as the Bishop of Wilna was in Paris, I could see how weak he
was and how much he required to be guided.... When I saw him start
for Poland, without taking either of his two acolytes, I foresaw all
that would occur. I am more than ever convinced that one can have no
confidence in weak minds and frivolous characters. The poor man will
be his own dupe; others will avenge your Majesty.”
In this case Madame Geoffrin showed herself a true prophet; but in the
meantime honours and distinctions were being showered on the head of
the Prince-Bishop. The Polish Government had lately constituted a body
for the general direction of public instruction. This body received
the name of Commissioners of National Education, and the Bishop was
appointed president. It proceeded to reorganise the studies which had
been completely interrupted by the suppression of the Jesuits, who
until then had educated the Polish youth. It was decided that the sale
of their possessions should furnish the capital necessary for the
founding of schools and universities as well as for the purchase and
printing of the students’ books.
While the Bishop of Wilna was busied with the education of his
countrymen the tutor he had chosen during his stay in Paris for his
own nephew, Prince Xavier, was discharging his functions in the worst
possible manner. The Bishop had not wished to send the child to college
on account of his delicate state of health. He preferred confiding
him to some trustworthy man, who would be exclusively attached to his
person. Madame Geoffrin consulted her friends on the subject, and
Masson de Pezay,[92] a clever intriguer, a colonel and a poet, proposed
his uncle, M. Boesnier-Delorme; he was a commissioner of woods and
forests, a talented man and accustomed to good society, but his head
was turned by the economists, and he was infatuated with their new
theories.
Notwithstanding this, as he was warmly recommended both by the Marquis
de Mirabeau and the Abbé Baudeau, for whom the Bishop had a great
regard, the offer was accepted. A salary of thirty thousand livres[93]
per annum was agreed upon for M. Delorme, including an under-tutor,
a gentleman, and a lackey, who were more specially assigned to the
child’s service. The same amount was offered to Masson de Pezay on
signing the agreement, and a further sum of sixty thousand livres was
promised besides to M. Delorme when his pupil’s education should be
finished.
It would have been difficult to make a worse choice. M. Delorme spent
his time travelling for the benefit of his agricultural affairs, and
squandered his money in costly experiments on his property near Blois,
situated on the banks of the Loire. During the winter he resided
chiefly in Paris, where he faithfully attended the receptions of the
Baron d’Holbach and Madame Geoffrin, as well as the political dinners
given by the Marquis de Mirabeau. As for his pupil, he dragged him
about in his summer travels, and during the winter left him at the
mercy of underlings without exercising the slightest supervision.
The child, barely seven years old, and an orphan from his birth, was
puny and delicate, and would have required a mother’s incessant care.
Instead of getting stronger, his health deteriorated from bad to
worse; either left to himself, or ill-treated by a brutal and ignorant
under-tutor, encouraged in low and precocious instincts by a debauched
lackey, the unfortunate child contracted bad habits, and when, at the
end of the term fixed for his education, the uncle claimed his return
to Poland in 1778, M. Delorme brought back a child of fourteen, half
crazy, absolutely ignorant, and in a most deplorable state of health.
It is easy to understand the indignation of the Bishop, who had been
carefully kept in ignorance of his nephew’s condition. M. Delorme
did not dare to face an interview. He sent the young Prince to Wilna
accompanied by a servant, and prudently remained himself at Warsaw. He
had, nevertheless, the audacity to claim the 60,000 livres promised on
the completion of Prince Xavier’s education. The Bishop flatly refused
it, and only paid the travelling expenses. But by dint of successful
scheming in Warsaw Delorme obtained a sum of 20,000 francs from the
family council, and returned in haste to Paris. He had received 30,000
livres during six years--that is, 180,000 plus 3600 at the outset, and
20,000 at the end, which made up a total of 230,000 livres,[94] in
payment for so successful an education.[95]
The young Prince was settled at Werky, in the magnificent residence of
his uncle, at a short distance from Wilna. He was treated with the
most tender care, his uncle never let him out of his sight, and took
him with him during his frequent visits to Warsaw. A confidential man
named Levert was attached to his person; he was sent by the Marquis
de Mirabeau, who, indignant at Delorme’s conduct, and most distressed
at having recommended him, had remained on the best of terms with
the Prince-Bishop. It was precisely at this period that unforeseen
circumstances, in which Hélène was concerned, gave rise to a rather
curious correspondence between the Bishop and the Marquis.
FOOTNOTES:
[90] See the _Journal Encyclopédique_, September 1774.
[91] _Vide_ Ferrand’s _History of the Dismemberment of Poland_.
[92] Alfred-Frédéric-Jacques Masson, called Marquis de Pezay,
inspector-general of the sea-coast, born 1741, died 1777.
[93] Twelve hundred pounds sterling.
[94] 230,000 livres are £9200 sterling.
[95] This story is told differently in the _Memoirs of Durfort
de Cheverny_, edited by M. de Crêvecœur; but even after a careful
consideration of his version, we consider our own the most correct.
II
Hélène’s suitors--The Duc d’Elbœuf and the Prince de
Salm--Negotiations of marriage--The Marquis de Mirabeau and the
Comtesse de Brionne--Madame de Pailly--The Bishop of Wilna’s
refusal--A fresh suitor--The Prince Charles de Ligne.
While Hélène was bringing to a close the story of her peaceful years of
convent life, the reputation of her beauty, her name, and her fortune
had spread beyond the walls of the old Abbey.
The young Princess had already made her appearance at children’s balls.
The Duchesses de Mortemart, de Châtillon, du Châtelet, de Choiseul,
and others, whose daughters or nieces were her companions, often took
Hélène out with them. More than one mother, anxious for her son’s
provision in life, had turned her thoughts towards the little Pole, and
disposed her artillery with a view towards securing auxiliaries in the
field. The young girl was not long in finding this out, but with much
discretion she appeared not to notice anything. Her plans were already
marked out; she was better acquainted than any one with her uncle’s
weakness of character, and knew well she would only make the marriage
she chose. Two suitors came forward at the same time. The first was
the Duc d’Elbœuf, Prince de Vaudemont, second son of the Comtesse de
Brionne, of the house of Rohan-Rochefort, and of Comte Charles-Louis
de Lorraine, Grand Equerry of France. Though of such noble birth, the
Prince’s fortune was small, and an alliance with a rich heiress was
for him the chief object in view. The Comtesse de Brionne, an intimate
friend of the Duc de Choiseul, saw Hélène at Chanteloup. The grace
and charm of the young girl attracted her attention, and on returning
to Paris she carefully informed herself of both Hélène’s present and
future prospects. It has not been forgotten that at the beginning of
her _Memoirs_ the little Princess mentions the Comtesse de Rochefort
as a friend of her uncle’s. This lady and her friend, the Marquis de
Mirabeau, were among those who frequented the Comtesse de Brionne’s
receptions. The Marquis de Mirabeau was, as we know, a great friend of
the Bishop of Wilna, and kept up a constant correspondence with him;
nothing was therefore easier than for the Countess to procure all the
information she desired.
It was in this small circle that was woven the matrimonial plot which
is now to be unfolded before our eyes, and we can see how in those
days, as at present, slight importance was attached to mutual feeling,
or to conformity of taste or character; fortune, rank, and name were
the only conditions required.
It was decided that the Marquis de Mirabeau should open fire by writing
to the Bishop. But it was felt that he could not bring the affair to a
good issue unassisted; his haughty and violent temper, the uncertainty
of his disposition, required the controlling influence of a feminine
mind. The right person was ready to hand, and Madame de Pailly, whose
intimacy with the Marquis was well known, was deputed to assist him in
this matter.[96]
Madame de Pailly was very pretty, and possessed a quick, shrewd
intelligence, well fitted for intrigue. The great Mirabeau, who had
good reason to hate her, wrote as follows:--
“This woman has the cleverness of five hundred thousand demons, or
angels, if you prefer it; but she is equally dangerous by reason of her
beauty, and her intensely designing disposition.”
We are not concerned with the unedifying position that Madame de
Pailly occupied in the Mirabeau family;[97] we merely conclude that
she must have conducted herself with sufficient reserve or decency, as
it was then called, to be admitted into the society of the Comtesse de
Brionne and that of her aunt, the Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg. The
_black hen_, as she was called by her intimates, was delighted to play
a part in this affair. She desired beyond everything to be useful to
such great ladies, and neglected nothing to attain this end. Madame de
Pailly’s letters were quoted in her society “as models of sentiment and
elegance;” we may add of acuteness and moderation.
MADAME DE PAILLY TO THE PRINCESSE DE LIGNE-LUXEMBOURG.
PARIS, _26th December 1777_.
“I enclose, Madame, a copy of M. de Mirabeau’s letter to the Bishop.
On handing it to me yesterday morning he said: ‘Be assured that this
negotiation will succeed; Providence will aid you. I could not have
written you this morning, but having suffered all night from a violent
attack of asthma I employed the time in doing so. It may have suffered
from my condition,[98] but nevertheless I think I have said all that
was necessary.’
“He begs the Comtesse de Brionne will forgive the freedom with which
he has spoken of her and her family; he thought it advisable to
preserve towards the Bishop the same frankness he has always shown
him, and, moreover, that his letter should not appear to have been
dictated. The Abbé[99] was quite satisfied with it.
“We are agreed as to what he (the Abbé) should say in his letter. He
will resolutely treat the question of the dowry, and will make all
necessary observations. He even adds that in order to influence the
undecided character of the Bishop he will enclose in his letter a copy
of the answer he should send the Marquis de Mirabeau. The Abbé has
often used this plan with success on previous occasions.
“He does not appear much alarmed at the competition of the ‘modern
prince,’[100] and following the usual bent of his mind, which leads
him to believe in what he wishes, he does not doubt for one moment of
our success in this affair, and will carry it through rapidly.”
The Marquis de Mirabeau was perhaps not the best person for
a negotiation of this sort, and his nature was certainly not
conciliatory; but in spite of his violence, his tyrannical character,
and fantastical ideas, his was not an ordinary intelligence. He had
much observation, and expressed his ideas in an original, glowing, and
picturesque style, though occasionally somewhat obscure.
THE MARQUIS DE MIRABEAU TO THE BISHOP OF WILNA.
PARIS, _25th December 1777_.
“MY LORD--My gratitude for your kindness, and the affection I feel
in return for the friendship you have conferred upon me, have caused
me to entertain an idea which I think suitable both as regards the
greatness of your family and your own happiness. I have conducted
the affair to a point where, if it meets with your approval, it can
be further developed, but without compromising you in the slightest
degree should you have other intentions.
“I know your affection for the scions of your illustrious family,
whose destiny both law and nature, the will of their ancestor,[101]
and their own helplessness, have confided to your care.
“I have not forgotten that it formed part of your plan that the young
Princess, your niece, should be established in France. I have heard
that she has given much satisfaction, and that each day she has shown
herself more worthy of your care and affection. I have therefore
thought of an alliance worthy of you in every way. Next in rank to our
Princes of the blood, who, though always ‘peers’ of the blood were
only raised by law above the other peers less than two centuries ago,
we have nothing in France that can equal the House of Lorraine.
“This family is now reduced in France to two branches. One of them
is almost extinct; the only remaining male representative being the
Prince de Marsan, who has never married. The other branch is that
of the Princes of Lambesc, Grand Equerries of France, at whose head
stands the beautiful Comtesse de Brionne, whom you know,[102] and
who occupies her position with as much dignity as splendour. This
Princess has been left a widow with two sons and two daughters. The
two Princes are: the Prince de Lambesc, Grand Equerry, and the Duc
d’Elbœuf,[103] a young Prince eighteen years of age, of a fine, noble
mien and gentle character, with whom all his family are satisfied--a
rare thing anywhere, in the present day, especially with us. The
eldest, the Prince de Lambesc, has until now refused to marry with a
persistency that time alone can overcome.[104] His younger brother
even went so far as to throw himself at his feet to implore him to do
so on one important occasion.[105] The two brothers are very amicable.
It is on the Prince d’Elbœuf that I have cast my eye, as representing,
in the interim, the sole hope of his family, and I thought it well not
to delay.
“Madame de Brionne is very clever, very watchful over the interests of
her family, especially with regard to the settlement of her children.
Active, without being restless, noble and elevated in her ideas on
general matters, easy on questions of detail, amiable to the exact
degree or extent she chooses, but having never displeased anybody or
anything any more than her own mirror. This is not a portrait: it is
a plain description, such as is necessary, for all depends upon her;
she will be a pillar of support--to the young Princess, who, with
her noble mind and ardent feelings, will prosper under such guidance;
to the young couple also, who will require sustaining and directing;
and lastly, to your Lordship, when you come to live amongst us; for
if I cared for society I should prefer the dull moments of Madame de
Brionne to the wittiest of all the others.
“Pray take counsel with yourself, my Lord, and send me word if I am to
withdraw my promises. Any other will follow up the affair as well, and
better, than I can, and ought even to do so. But I alone could give
you my idea with all its developments. If the plan suits you avoid
all delays. State things exactly as they are to be, so that we may
consider them as signed and ratified.
“In any case, pray forgive the liberty I have taken by interfering in
your affairs, and consider me, etc.
“_P.S._--I ask: 1. If the idea meets with your approval.
“2. The conditions you require.
“3. Those you will grant.”
While this negotiation was being carried on Hélène had met, in the
course of her frequent appearances in society, Prince Frédéric[106]
de Salm, who had come as if by chance to a young ladies’ ball. His
reputation as a successful man of the world, his debts, and his
conduct, did little credit to the name he bore. Unscrupulous in the
choice of his amusements, frequenting the worst society, of doubtful
courage, he commanded in Paris no sort of consideration. He was
reproached, on the occasion of a duel he fought with an officer of the
King’s guards, with having taken the precaution of secretly protecting
himself with a large muff. On arriving at the ground he refused to
undress, and rushed on his adversary unawares. The latter gave him a
thrust that would have pierced him through and through had it not been
for the protecting muff. The recoil caused by this obstacle threw the
officer to the ground, and the seconds had all the difficulty in the
world to prevent the Prince from killing his fallen adversary.
The Prince de Salm had a handsome face, easy manners, a gay
disposition, and a supple mind. Hélène ignored the dishonourable
details of his private life. She only saw in him an elegant cavalier,
bearing a great name, and above all, the certainty of a fixed residence
in Paris, in the magnificent mansion the Salms had built, on the Quay
d’Orsay.[107]
She would not hear of the Duc d’Elbœuf, in spite of his brilliant
prospects; she dreaded Madame de Brionne as a mother-in-law, and
allowed herself to be strongly influenced by the Prince de Salm’s
friends, who did not miss an opportunity of exciting the young girl’s
imagination. The Bishop, led by his niece, returned an ambiguous
answer, adjourned his decision, spoke of a probable journey to Paris,
and ended by no longer concealing the fresh candidature of the Prince
de Salm.
The Comtesse de Brionne ardently desired to continue the negotiations,
and she consulted Mirabeau as to the best means of attaining her end.
The Marquis replied in a long letter, of which the following is an
extract:[108]--
“It is absolutely necessary that the Countess should have as
representative a staid and honourable man, acting on her authority,
and capable of defeating the intrigues he will meet with. National
jealousy, errors of fact, important changes in places and ideas,
distractions and dissipations of all kinds, in fact every sort of
disappointment, await him; quite enough to worry out of his mind any
sensible man.
“It must, however, be borne in mind that he must not be expected to
conclude, treat, or decide anything, but only to obtain ample and
reliable information as to the family possessions, customs, etc.,
to keep the Bishop in a favourable frame of mind, to sketch out the
conditions with him, and try to bring him round to our views. I cannot
deny that this is too much to expect from a man alone, in a strange
country; for this there is only one remedy, which, if we can obtain
it, I think will succeed--it is to get the Abbé Baudeau to accompany
him on the journey. I know all that can be said against him, and he
is the first to own his faults; he would spoil any business requiring
time, but an affair that has to be carried off at the outset is quite
another matter, and he is the first man in Europe for that kind of
thing, thanks to his business-like aptitude and resources. He is
ingenious, insinuating, as good as he is scatterbrained, of easy and
lively habits, knowing how to influence the Bishop, which he does, not
by thwarting him, but by turning him round like a glove. In short,
whatever objections there may be to him, we cannot have men made on
purpose. This one has a clear head, and will elucidate matters both
here and over there; he enjoys the confidence of the young Princess,
and knows how to manage her; he can work up the Bishop as he pleases.
In fact, even had he none of these advantages, which I consider quite
exceptional for the affair in hand, or did he not know the country
as he does, I should think it of capital importance to employ him in
carrying through a business of this kind.
“What I can guarantee, not only as the result of my express warning,
but also by the fact that he has already suffered from it, is, that
he will not meddle with politics or economy, or any other subject of
discussion, and that, provided his travelling companion behaves to him
in a simple and friendly way, neither allowing himself to be ruled
by him, nor still less contradicting him openly, he will be quite
satisfied with him, and will find him most useful. I must appear
to write at great length on this subject, but I assure you that I
am actuated by no prejudice. In reality I have more liking than is
supposed for sensible business; but try watering cabbages with lavender
water, and you will see if they grow!...”
Notwithstanding the Marquis’s eloquence, the Abbé Baudeau did not
start for Poland, as the negotiations fell through. By a second letter
the Prince-Bishop, under the influence of his niece, declined for her
the honour of entering the house of Lorraine.[109] The unsuccessful
result of the negotiations undertaken by Madame de Pailly had vexed
her much; she feared the displeasure of the Comtesse de Brionne, and
still more that of her aunt, the Princesse de Ligne-Luxembourg,[110]
whom she had special reasons for wishing to please. The Princess,
formerly lady-in-waiting to the late Queen of Spain, had, by virtue
of that office, been given by the King an apartment in the palace of
the Tuileries. She received a limited but carefully-chosen circle,
of which Madame de Pailly would have been proud to form part, though
the society was a very dull one. The old Princess, according to her
contemporaries, had the most hideous fifty-year-old face that had ever
been seen, a fat, shiny countenance, without any rouge, lividly pale,
and adorned with a chin three stories deep. The Duchesse de Tallard
used to say “that she was like a dripping tallow-candle.” But she was
obliging and kind, and soon consoled herself for the failure of the
projected marriage. She confided to the negotiating lady that she had
another scheme in view. This time she had turned her thoughts to Prince
Charles de Ligne, nephew of her late husband. In point of fortune the
young Prince’s position was far superior to that of the Duc d’Elbœuf,
and if his family occupied in France a less elevated rank than that of
the house of Lorraine--which was a reigning family--on the score of
nobility it was inferior to none.
Madame de Pailly, delighted at the confidence the Princess reposed in
her, thanked her for it as for a favour, and set to work, resolved to
profit by the experience she had acquired and avoid another failure.
She began by making the Abbé Baudeau and the Marquis write to the
Prince-Bishop that nothing could be concluded in his absence, and
that among the crowd of suitors, which every day increased, it was
impossible he could discern at a distance what would be the best match
for his niece.
Then she cleverly tried to discover what was the influence which
had been brought to bear on the young Princess that disposed her so
strongly in favour of the Prince de Salm. She learned that he had
gained over to his cause one of the lady residents in the Convent,
whom Hélène frequently went to see.[111]
Once fully acquainted with all the details of the situation, she
drew up her batteries accordingly, and won over to her side three
of Hélène’s best friends: the young Duchesse de Choiseul and
Mesdemoiselles de Conflans. She got mutual friends to urge them quietly
to influence the young Princess, and then patiently awaited the arrival
of the Bishop, which could not long be delayed.
Before seriously opening up negotiations the Princesse de Ligne had
written to Prince Charles and his mother to inform them of her plan,
and of the advantages she saw in this alliance. But she did not hide
the preference over his numerous competitors which the young girl
showed towards the Prince Frédéric de Salm. Prince Charles did not
seem very much flattered, and wrote to his aunt as follows:--
_March 1779._
“I have received, my dear aunt, the letters you have had the goodness
to write to me, and have immediately forwarded them to my father.
I foresee that there will be many difficulties in the affair you
mention. It will require all the perseverance you possess with regard
to what interests you, and tax to the utmost your kindness towards the
whole of our family; a kindness whereof we are deeply sensible, and
for which once more, my dear aunt, we offer you our best thanks.
“The little lady appears to me of decided character, and not very
delicate in her choice, since she prefers the Prince de Salm, who has
such a bad reputation. I only hope the Bishop will not decide! for it
takes so long to receive the answers.
“Receive, my dear aunt, etc.”
From this letter it appears that the young Prince was not very much
delighted at the proposed marriage, but his mother took up the matter
with more eagerness, and begged her cousin to continue the negotiations.
The latter, then staying at her niece’s, Madame de Brionne, in the
Château de Limours, wrote to Madame de Pailly, and offered to come
herself to Paris to talk over the great affair. Madame de Pailly
replies:--
“I had hoped, Madame, that this week would not have elapsed without
your coming to Paris. I greatly desire to have the honour of seeing
you, in order to tell you about our affair. You may be sure that I have
made the best possible use of what you deigned to inform me. It would
be too long for me to write to you all that has been said on one side
and on the other, but the last word of _our uncle_ is that he must know
what will be the total fortune of the young Prince in the future, and
what allowance his father means to give him at present. He has repeated
several times that that was the essential point to be cleared up; that
he found all the other conditions most suitable; that with regard to
the residence in Brussels, his niece was very-sensible, and that he
flattered himself he would have no difficulty in persuading her, if
that was the only obstacle in the way.
“It is true that he adds: ‘But may we not hope that the Prince de Ligne
will come to Paris?’ I answered that I thought not, and, indeed, that
this change of residence would not be to his advantage; that I thought
his niece would find it very agreeable to be at the same time a great
lady in Brussels, in Vienna, and at Versailles; that the Prince de
Ligne’s establishments in Flanders were such that they were preferable
to any that might be had elsewhere....”
Madame de Pailly conducted the whole business very cleverly. She called
on the young Princess, and, feigning to ignore the preference that
Hélène openly avowed for the Prince de Salm, she carefully avoided
mentioning the subject. But she boldly faced the other obstacle--that
of an establishment in Brussels.
She dwelt at great length on the exceptional position of the Princes de
Ligne in Vienna and in the Netherlands. Then she gave a most brilliant
description of that occupied by the Prince’s father at Versailles,
where he spent most of his time when free from military service. She
gave Hélène to understand that with the great preference the Prince
showed for the French Court, she would easily find in him an ally
towards obtaining an establishment in Paris; for he adored his son, and
would be happy to have him near. Only it was essential to gain time,
and care must be taken not to clash with the Princesse de Ligne, who
was the least disposed to accept this arrangement.
This conversation made a tolerably deep impression on Hélène, who,
for the first time, did not oppose a formal refusal to the proposed
alliance with the Prince de Ligne; she merely asked to be allowed
to reflect, and to await the arrival of her uncle before taking a
decision. The delay was granted the more easily that the Princes
de Ligne, both father and son, were at that time engaged with the
army, Austria being at war with Prussia as to the succession of the
electorate of Bavaria.
We will now leave Hélène to her reflections, and turn our attention to
the two personages who are about to play such an important part in her
life.
FOOTNOTES:
[96] Madame de Pailly was the daughter of Captain de Malvieu, of the
Swiss guards; her family came from Berne, but her father’s rank keeping
him in France, she had been brought up there, and while still very
young had married M. de Pailly, a Swiss officer, also in the French
service. Her husband took his pension and returned to Lausanne; Madame
de Pailly often went to see him there, but she continued to reside in
Paris, and was, in fact, completely separated from him after the year
1762. For more details see _Memoirs of Mirabeau_, by Lucas de Montigny;
_The Comtesse de Rochefort and her Friends_, by Louis de Loménie.
[97] The Princesse de Luxembourg, born de Bethisy, was a sister of the
Princesse de Rohan-Montauban, mother of the Comtesse de Brionne.
[98] The Marquis was ill, and very much taken up trying to obtain an
order for the imprisonment of his son at the Bastille.
[99] The Abbé Baudeau, who thoroughly understood the Bishop’s
character, having been attached to his service in 1772, during his
first stay in Paris.
[100] Prince Frédéric de Salm.
[101] Prince Massalski, Grand General of Lithuania.
[102] The beauty of the Comtesse de Brionne was famous. The Duchesse
de Villeray, in sending her a netting needle, addressed to her the
following lines:--
“L’emblême frappe ici vos yeux.
Si les grâces, l’amour et l’amitié parfaite
Peuvent jamais former des nœuds,
Vous devez tenir la navette.”
An emblem here meets your gaze, If grace, love, and perfect friendship
Can ever be knit together, Then you must hold the shuttle.
[103] Prince Marie-Joseph de Lorraine, Duc d’Elbœuf, Prince de
Vaudemont, was the son of Charles-Louis de Lorraine, Comte de Brionne,
Grand Equerry of France, and of Julia-Constance de Rohan. He emigrated
with his brother, the Prince de Lambesc, and they entered into the
service of Austria. Their rank of Princes of Lorraine gave them special
favour in the Emperor’s eyes, and they both attained the rank of
field-marshal. It was to the Prince de Lambesc that the young Princesse
de Montmorency was betrothed.
[104] Time effectually overcame it. He married in 1812 the Countess
Colloredo, a widow, beautiful in spite of her forty years, witty and
ill-natured. He separated from her at the end of two years.
[105] On the occasion of his proposed marriage with Mademoiselle de
Montmorency.
[106] Frédéric-Jean Othon, hereditary Prince of Salm-Kybourg; his
mother was a Princesse de Horn. He was born on 11th May 1746, and died
on the scaffold in 1794.
[107] This hotel is actually the palace of the Legion of Honour; it was
built by the architect Rousseau.
[108] The letters of the Marquis de Mirabeau and those of Madame de
Pailly on the subject of Hélène’s marriage are numerous, and are
amongst the sequestrated papers. Letter T, _Portfolio de Ligne 1-4 of
the National Archives_. We only give extracts from them.
[109] In the same year the Duc d’Elbœuf consoled himself by marrying,
on 30th December 1778, Mademoiselle de Montmorency-Lagny.
[110] Henriette-Eugénie de Bethisy de Mézières, widow of the High and
Mighty Lord Claude-Hyacinthe-Ferdinand Lamoral, Prince de Ligne and of
the Holy Empire.
[111] This lady was no other than the Marquise de Mesnard, separated
from her husband, the Marquis de Marigny, brother to Madame de
Pompadour. She inhabited in 1778 a magnificent apartment in the
Abbaye-aux-Bois, where she received the most brilliant society. She was
on intimate terms with the Prince-Cardinal Louis de Rohan, and with the
Princesse de Salm, mother of Prince Frédéric.
III
The de Ligne family--Prince Charles--War in Bavaria--Engagement at
Pösig--The Prince de Ligne’s letter to his son--The Treaty of Teschen.
The De Ligne family was one of the most illustrious in Flanders. Its
head, Charles-Joseph, Prince de Ligne, Prince of the Holy Empire, Lord
Paramount of Fagnolles, and Lord of the Manors of Beaudour, Bel Œil,
Valincourt and other territories, Marquis of Roubaix and Dormans,
Baron of Fauquenberghe, Baron of Wershin, Knight of the Golden Fleece,
Grandee of Spain of the first class, first _ber_ of Flanders, Peer,
Seneschal and Marshal of Hainault, was General in the Austrian army,
Captain of the Trabans, Colonel and owner of a regiment of Walloon
infantry, and chamberlain to their Imperial Majesties.[112]
These honours were certainly sufficient to satisfy the highest
ambition, but they were not all. In addition to all these titles we
must add the position enjoyed by the Prince de Ligne at Versailles,
Vienna, and Brussels--a position acquired by his brilliant personal
qualities. Handsome, brave, generous, chivalrous, gifted with a
dazzling imagination, lively wit, and a mind full of impulsive
brilliancy, he was, notwithstanding all these advantages, the most
unaffected of men. He is mentioned in all contemporary memoirs, even by
those of most diverse opinions. Mesdames de Staël, de Genlis, the Comte
de Ségur, the adventurer Casanova, the Emperor Joseph, Voltaire, the
Empress Catherine, and others, all unite in a concert of praise, and
not a discordant note jars upon the general harmony. Madame de Staël
winds up her portrait of him by saying, like Eschine: “If you are
astonished at what I say of him, how much more so would you be if you
knew him!” Such was the future father-in-law of Hélène.
Prince Charles-Joseph had been brought up by his father in the
strictest manner. “My father did not care for me,” he says: “I know not
why, for we hardly knew each other. He never spoke to me; it was not
the fashion at that time to be either a good father or a good husband.
My mother feared him extremely. She gave birth to me dressed in her
farthingale, and died in the same dress, a few weeks later, so strict
was he as to appearances and stately formalities.”
His military career was most brilliant, and his promotion rapid. At
the age of twenty he was named colonel of his father’s regiment of
dragoons. He immediately wrote to inform him of the fact, and the
following is the answer he received:--
“It was already unfortunate enough for me, sir, to have you as a son
without the additional misfortune of having you as my colonel.”
His son replied: “My lord, neither the one nor the other are my fault,
and it is the Emperor your Highness must make responsible for the
second misfortune.”
The Prince married in 1755 the Princesse de Lichtenstein,[113] and
in September 1759, while he was busy fighting the Prussians before
Meissen, he received the news of the birth of a son.
“I have a son,” he writes joyfully. “Ah! how I shall love him; I
already wish I could write and tell him so.... If I come back from this
war I shall say to him: ‘Be welcome: I am sure I am going to love you
with all my heart!’”
The Prince had suffered too severely from the harshness of his father
to be willing to imitate it. All his children were brought up with
the greatest affection, but he was never able to refrain from showing
a marked preference to the eldest, Prince Charles, suitor to our young
Princess. He taught him what he knew so well himself--“to fight like a
gentleman.” The little Prince, while still a child, was led to battle
by his father.
“I had a slight skirmish at the outposts with the Prussians,” he says,
“and, jumping into the saddle with him as we galloped along, I took his
little hand in mine. At the first shot I ordered I said to him: ‘It
would be charming, my Charles, if we had a little wound together.’ And
he laughed, and swore, and became excited, and spoke quite judiciously!”
After having been at Strasburg[114] for four years, Prince Charles
entered the Austrian service, at the age of sixteen, as second
lieutenant of engineers. He would have preferred the artillery, but
chose the engineers to please his father.
At the moment when the negotiations for Hélène’s marriage were begun
war had just broken out between Austria and Prussia, on the question of
the succession in Bavaria, and the two Princes de Ligne were with the
Austrian army.
The Elector of Bavaria, Maximilian-Joseph, had died on the 30th of
December 1777 without male issue. Notwithstanding the indisputable
rights of the Elector-Palatine, several other princes raised
pretensions to the succession. The most formidable of these pretenders
was the Emperor Joseph II. Barely had the Elector closed his eyes when
the Austrian troops marched on the Bavarian frontier.
This caused great uneasiness in Prussia, and the young Duc des
Deux-Ponts, urged on and supported by Frederick the Great, protested
before the Germanic Diet against Austria’s designs. The Elector of
Saxony followed his example, and while this serious discussion was
going on Joseph and Frederick went, the one into Silesia, the other
into Bohemia, to take command of the large armies they had raised.
They remained thus in presence of each other for several months.
Marie-Thérèse, who feared war, carried on secret negotiations to stop
it. Joseph, on the contrary, anxious for a contest with the great
Frederick, urged it on with all his might.[115]
The Austrian army was divided into two corps, the one officially
commanded by the Emperor, but in reality by Marshal de Lascy, and the
other by Marshal Laudon; it included the Lycanians or Croats, and
picked grenadier regiments under the Prince de Ligne. His headquarters
were at Bezesnow, in Bohemia. His son was in Marshal de Lascy’s corps,
occupying a strong position behind the steep banks of the Elbe; three
lines of forts defended the passage of the river. Prince Charles was
in fact principally occupied with the construction of these forts,
and his father constantly wrote to him. The following letters will
show the affectionate terms that existed between them. It would appear
that Prince Charles was dissatisfied at the manner in which the
fortifications were being made,
_From my Headquarters at_
BEZESNOW, _26th June 1778_.
“Well, my engineer, so you are still fortifying your position, but you
are not fortifying your esteem for the genius of our engineers? I have
much trouble, on my side, to fortify myself against _ennui_.
“The Emperor came here to make what we may well call a fuss. He
said he wished for war, but did not believe in it. ‘_Who will
take a bet?_’ he said to us the other day. ‘_Everybody_,’ replied
Marshal Laudon, who is always in a bad temper. ‘_Everybody means
nobody!_’--‘_But I for one will bet_,’ said Marshal Lascy. ‘_How
much?_’ said the Emperor, who expected him to propose about twenty
ducats. ‘_Two hundred thousand florins_,’ said the Marshal. The
Emperor pulled a long face, and felt he had received a public
reprimand.
“He has been very gracious to me. He is in constant fear lest one
should play the pedant by him. He was satisfied with my troops, and
said many nice things about you, my dear Charles, for he had seen you
work marvellously well. He has just left; I can still see him from my
windows.
“I laugh at myself and the others when I think that, unappreciated
though I be, I value myself so much more than they suppose. I
personally superintend every platoon. I make myself hoarse with giving
the word of command to six battalions at the same time.
“I personally inspect even the very smallest huts, called in Bohemia
_kaloups_, each containing only four soldiers, and taste their soup,
their bread, weigh their meat, in order to see that they are not
cheated. There is not one whom I do not talk to, whom I do not supply
with something; not an officer I do not feed, and whom I do not rouse
to the war. My comrades do nothing of this kind, and they are very
wise, as no one cares. Not one of them cares for the war; they utter
the most pacific speeches before the young men, whom they expect in
the future to be zealous and good generals. This is also very well.
They will be made generals before I shall, and that also will be very
well.
“It is six weeks since I have spoken a word of French; but, on the
other hand, to repay me for a tiresome dinner, I have the pleasure, on
leaving the table, of receiving thirty bows at a time.”
“If an infantry officer may salute an engineer in the exercise of his
genius, I embrace you, my dear boy. I am delighted that you should
get praised for doing bad work. Good-bye, my excellent work; good-bye,
my master-piece, almost as much so as Christine.”[116]
In the meantime the Emperor and the King of Prussia remained
stationary, constantly exchanging letters. The Prince de Ligne, who was
well posted up, kept his son informed of what was going on.
BEZESNOW, _5th July_.
“I have this moment heard that the Marshal asked the Emperor, on
Saint John’s Day, how he had answered the letter he had received that
day from the King of Prussia. ‘I have nonplussed him,’ he answered;
‘I represented that the season was advancing, and that I wished to
receive some lessons from so great a master. When do you think, my
dear Marshal, that I shall get his answer?’ The Marshal counted on his
fingers, and replied: ‘In eight days; but he will bring it himself to
your Majesty.’
“I have just heard that he has entered Bohemia; to-day is the 5th
July, the calculation is exact; so much the better; I have received
orders to march with all my corps.”
The King of Prussia had suddenly made his appearance at Nachod, at the
head of his advanced guard. “We hoped it,” says the Prince de Ligne,
“but did not expect it.” He writes to his son:--
_July._
“As I do not suppose you have already left Pardubitz for the army, I
must write and give you some news of it. The Emperor was informed that
the King was advancing at the head of I do not know how many columns.
He went at full gallop to the redoubt number 7, and asked about twenty
times: ‘Where is the Marshal?’ The latter came up slowly for the
first time in his life: ‘Well, Field-Marshal, I have had you looked
for everywhere.’--‘Well, Sire, there is the King.--Give me your
spy-glass.... Ah! there he is himself, I bet! on a large English horse
... perhaps his Anhalt, look.’--‘That is possible; but they have not
come alone to beat us; look at the strength of the columns, Oh! there
is one that certainly numbers ten thousand men. They are coming to
attack us?’--‘Perhaps, what o’clock is it?’--‘Eleven o’clock.’--‘They
will only be in battle line in two hours’ time, then they will cook
their dinner, so shall we; they will certainly not attack your Majesty
to-day.’--‘No, but to-morrow?’--‘To-morrow! I think not, nor the day
after, nor even at all during this campaign.’
“You will recognise the phlegmatic and bitter style of our excellent
Marshal, annoyed at the constant interference and anxiety of the
Emperor, who on these occasions feels that he is not master of the
situation.”
At last the war began, but the opposing parties contented themselves
with observing each other’s movements. Prince Charles rejoined his
father at Mickenhau on the 30th of July, and he became one of his
aides-de-camp; he was always to be found at the outposts, and in
the midst of danger was remarkably cool and courageous. His father
constantly speaks of him with a pride that he cannot conceal: “Charles
is splendid under fire; I cannot restrain his ardour, he has such
presence of mind, such spirits and animation, that he encourages
every one. I must also add that the Emperor is very much pleased with
him.” It is thus that the Prince expresses himself in the picturesque
and delightful description he has given of this Bavarian war; a war
presenting this peculiarity, that not a shot was fired in Bavaria, and
that two armies of more than a hundred thousand men, one commanded by
the King of Prussia, the other by the Emperor of Austria, remained
during nine months in sight of each other without fighting a single
battle, contenting themselves with slight skirmishes or small outpost
attacks.
The Prince, in despair at this state of inaction,[117] seized every
opportunity of attacking the enemy. We will quote the account he gives
of the fight of Pösig; it was the first action in which Prince Charles
took part, and had a great influence on his military career.
“Prince Henry’s[118] hussars had taken up a strong position on the
heights of Hühnerwasser. In order to dislodge them it was necessary
first to take the Convent of Pösig, where there was a small garrison of
about forty men, who spent their days watching all that took place in
our camp. This perpetual spying irritated M. de Laudon a great deal. I
told him that Colonel d’Aspremont had already proposed to attack them,
but that even if the position were carried it would be difficult to
retain it, being situated nearer to Prince Henry than to us. He told
me to try if I could.... But the garrison was on the watch. A sentinel
had been placed at the door of the monk who gave me information, the
main entrance to the Convent had been barricaded, and they had raised
trestles. The brave Lycanians began the attack an hour before daybreak,
at the very moment that I was drawing up my men on the small plain.
Fifty were chosen to form the scaling party. All wanted to go, but
there were only five ladders, and if I had sent for more the news would
have spread in the country. Although the ladders were short, one of the
brave Croatians was killed on the wall. On arriving they were greeted
by a shower of stones, and Colonel d’Aspremont could no longer restrain
them. The excellent and worthy Lieutenant Wolf went up first; he was
shot through the arm. All of a sudden they heard, without knowing where
the news came from, that the gates had been burst open, and every
one rushed thither. Wolf was shot through the body, and died two days
after, telling me that if he had a thousand lives he would be glad
to sacrifice them all in my service. A sergeant and five sappers who
burst open the gates were killed on the spot, and twenty-five men were
wounded.
“Nothing has ever grieved me so much as seeing these fine, excellent
fellows, stretched side by side with their lieutenant uttering these
touching things. Formerly when I sacrificed the lives of my men,
sometimes needlessly, we shared the same dangers, and it had not the
same effect on me. But I had sent these poor fellows forward, and
unable to be everywhere at once, thinking moreover to be of more use
where I was, I remained behind, and perceived that it is often a hard
thing to be a general officer, as one is obliged to expose one’s men to
dangers which one cannot share.”
Prince Charles was so struck with the confidence and devotion his
father inspired in his men, and with the praises bestowed on him by
Lieutenant Wolf on his deathbed, that he remembered it all his life,
as we shall see later on. A few days after Marshal Laudon[119] came to
the Prince, and ordered him to advance all his troops, and dislodge the
Hühnerwasser huzzars.
“We had scarcely got to Jezoway when the rattle of the carbines was
heard; the Marshal in consequence began to get excited, and I saw, on a
reduced scale, the conqueror of Frankfort and of Landshut; it was the
first and last time he smiled through the whole of the campaign.
“Charles is so brave that it is a pleasure to see him. I was galloping
by his side, and holding his hand, saying as formerly: ‘It would be
a joke if we were struck by the same shot!’ After that, he carried
an order to retreat to an officer, who was wounded on receiving it.
Charles was delighted at having exchanged pistol shots with the enemy.
M. de Laudon and I were also under fire; the first time he sees the
enemy after a long period of peace he gets as excited as if he were
still a mere lieutenant of Lycanians, and went himself to order
Klégawiez and Pallackzi to retire from their positions, which had been
turned.
“I said to him: ‘Marshal, let us rather send our orderly officers and
our aides-de-camp.’ When I looked round there were none left; they had
all gone off like giddy fellows with Charles. Pösig was taken at about
twelve o’clock.
“Such is the simple story of a very pretty and amusing little
affair--similar, however, to many others that our generals make a
fuss about, and the newspapers describe as serious battles, for the
edification of the coffee-rooms and society of the capital.”
Meanwhile Marie-Thérèse, in her ceaseless efforts to bring the war to
a close, won over the Czarina to her cause, and at length succeeded
in spite of the Emperor Joseph, who was ignorant of his mother’s
negotiations.
A Congress met at Teschen on the 10th of April 1779, and peace was
signed on the 13th of May 1779. This war was peculiar in many respects.
The Palatine dynasty, in whose interest the war had been undertaken,
took no part in it. Bavaria, the subject of dispute, was not involved
in the hostilities; and the Elector-Palatine, who had refused the
King of Prussia’s assistance, owed the chief advantages of the peace
to his influence. The termination of this war without a single battle
left everybody in a bad humour, especially the Prince de Ligne: “I was
not the only one displeased,” he says; “the Empress was dissatisfied
because peace had not been made soon enough; the Emperor because it
was concluded without his knowledge; Marshal Lascy because his plans
had been interrupted, which, if they had been carried out, would have
proved far more advantageous; Marshal Laudon because he had only played
the part of observer and observed; the King of Prussia because he had
spent twenty-five millions of écus[120] and twenty-five thousand men,
and had not once done what he intended; Prince Henry because he had
been constantly crossed by the King.”
FOOTNOTES:
[112] At a latter period he became field-marshal, like his father and
grandfather.
[113] Françoise-Marie-Xavière de Lichtenstein, born 25th November 1740,
daughter of Emanuel, Prince de Lichtenstein, and of Marie-Antoine de
Dietrichstein-Weichseltadt.
[114] At that time there was a famous school of artillery at Strasburg,
directed by de Marzy.
By the treaty of Ryswick, signed in 1697, Alsace at that time belonged
to France. Strasburg had capitulated on the 30th September 1681, and
made its submission to Louis XIV. Fortified by Vauban it had become a
formidable fortress. The arsenal contained nine hundred cannon.
[115] Rulhière, a passionate but keen observer, wrote of the Emperor
Joseph: “Peace was pain and anxiety for him, _invasion_ and _conquest_
was the result of all his meditations. These two words had made the
celebrity of Frederick, and it was by them that Joseph wished to attain
and even surpass his rival. This proud man was constantly tortured by a
nervous and jealous anxiety.”
[116] Princess Christine was the eldest daughter of the Prince de
Ligne; she married in 1775 Comte Clary, eldest son of the prince of
that name; she was adored by all who knew her.
[117] War was a real delight to the Prince de Ligne; from his childhood
he was passionately fond of it. When he speaks of a battle he says: “A
battle is like an ode of Pindar: you must throw into it an enthusiasm
bordering on madness! To describe it properly would, I think, require
the sort of intoxication one feels at the moment of victory.”
[118] Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of the King, born 8th January
1726, died 3d April 1802. He is said to have had great military talent;
but his brother was jealous of him and did not like him.
[119] Laudon (Gédéon-Ernest, Baron of), an Austrian field-marshal, born
16th October 1710 at Trolsen in Livonia. He first served in the Russian
army from 1733 to 1739, and not finding his promotion rapid enough, he
entered the Austrian service. As a reward for his brilliant services
the Emperor Joseph made him, in 1769, Commander-General of Moravia, and
Field-Marshal in 1778. The Empress Catherine used to say: “I cannot
see Admiral Tchitchakoff without thinking of a saying of the Prince
de Ligne about Marshal Laudon. Some one asked him how he could be
recognised: ‘Go,’ he replied; ‘you will find him hid behind the door,
ashamed of his merit and superiority.’ That quite describes my admiral.”
[120] Equal to £6,250,000 sterling
END OF VOL. I
_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_
_S. & H._