At this the Queen's countenance began to brighten, and she said, very
softly, "What is it, then, that you will do?"
"Madame," said I, "I will oblige the Prince, before a week is at an end,
to leave Paris; and I will detach the Duke from his interest to-morrow."
The Queen, overjoyed, held out her hand and said, "Give me yours, and I
promise you that you shall be cardinal the next day, and the second man
in my friendship." She desired also that Mazarin and I might be good
friends; but I answered that the least touch upon that string would put
me out of tune and render me incapable of doing her any service;
therefore I conjured her to let me still enjoy the character of being his
enemy.
"Was anything," said the Queen, "ever so strange and unaccountable? Can
you not possibly serve me without being the enemy of him in whom I most
confide?"
I told her it must needs be so. "Madame," I said, "I humbly beseech your
Majesty to let me tell you that, as long as the place of Prime Minister
is not filled up, the Prince will increase in power on pretence that it
is kept vacant to receive the Cardinal by a speedy restoration."
"You see," said her Majesty, "how the Prince treats me; he has insulted
me ever since I disowned my two traitors,--Servien and Lionne." I took
the opportunity while she was flushed with anger to make my court to her
by saying that before two days were at an end the Prince should affront
her no longer. But the tenderness she had for her beloved Cardinal made
her unwilling to consent that I should continue to exclaim against his
Eminence in Parliament, where one was obliged to handle him very roughly
almost every quarter of an hour. She bade me remember that it was the
Cardinal who had solicited my nomination. I answered that I was highly
obliged to his Eminence upon that score, and that I was ready to give him
proofs of my acknowledgment in anything wherein my honour was not
concerned, but that I should be a double-dealer if I promised to
contribute to his reestablishment. Then she said, "Go! you are a very
devil. See Madame Palatine, and let me hear from you the night before
you go to the Parliament."
I do not think I was in the wrong to refuse her offer. We must never
jest with proffered service; for if it be real, we can never embrace it
too much; but if false, we can never keep at too great a distance. I
lamented to the public the sad condition of our affairs, which had
obliged me to leave my dear retirement, where, after so much disturbance
and confusion, I hoped to enjoy comfortable rest; that we were falling
into a worse condition than we were in before, because the State suffered
more by the daily negotiations carried on with Mazarin than it had done
by his administrations; and that the Queen was still buoyed up with hopes
of his reestablishment.
The Prince de Conde having inflamed the Parliament, to make himself more
formidable to the Queen and Court, some new scenes were opened every day.
At one time they sent to the provinces to inform against the Cardinal; at
another time they made search after his effects at Paris.
I went one day with four hundred men in my company to the Parliament
House, where the Prince de Conde inveighed against the exportation of
money out of the kingdom by the Cardinal's banker. But afterwards I
absented myself for awhile from Parliament, which made me suspected of
being less an enemy to the Cardinal, and I was pelted with a dozen or
fifteen libels in the space of a fortnight, by a fellow whose nose had
been slit for writing a lampoon against a lady of quality. I composed a
short but general answer to all, entitled "An Apology for the Ancient and
True Fronde." There was a strong paper war between the old and new
Fronde for three or four months, but afterwards they united in the attack
on Mazarin. There were about sixty volumes of tracts written during the
civil war, but I am sure that there are not a hundred sheets worth
reading.
I was sent for again to another private conference with the Queen, who,
dreading an arrangement with the Prince de Conde, was for his being
arrested, and advised me to consider how it might be done. It seems that
M. Hoquincourt had offered to kill him in the street, as the shortest way
to be rid of him, for she desired me to confer about it with Hoquincourt,
"who will," said she, "show you a much surer way." The Queen,
nevertheless, would not own she had ever such a thought, though she was
heard to say, "The Coadjutor is not a man of so much courage as I took
him for."
The next day I was informed that the Queen could endure the Prince no
longer, and that she had advices that he had formed a design to seize the
King; that he had despatched orders to Flanders to treat with the
Spaniards, and that either he or she must be ruined; that she was not for
shedding blood, and that what Hoquincourt proposed was far from it,
because he promised to secure the Prince without striking a blow if I
would answer for the people.
The Parliament continued to prosecute Mazarin, who was convicted of
embezzling some nine millions of the public money. The Prince assembled
the Chambers, and persuaded them to issue a new decree against all those
of the Court party who held correspondence with the said Cardinal.
The Prince de Conde, being uneasy at seeing Mazarin's creatures still at
Court, retired to Saint Maur on the 6th of July, 1651. On the 7th the
Prince de Conti acquainted the Parliament with the reasons for his
departure, and talked in general of the warnings he had received from
different hands of a design the Court had formed against his life, adding
that his brother could not be safe at Court as long as Tellier, Servien,
and Lionne were not removed. There was a very hot debate in the ensuing
session between the Prince de Conti and the First President. The latter
talked very warmly against his retreat to Saint Maur, and called it a
melancholy prelude to a civil war. He hinted also that the said Prince
was the author of the late disturbances, upon which the Prince de Conti
threatened that had he been in any other place he would have taught him
to observe the respect due to Princes of the blood. The First President
said that he did not fear his threats, and that he had reason to complain
of his Royal Highness for presuming to interrupt him in a place where he
represented the King's person. Both parties were now in hot blood, and
the Duke, who was very glad to see it, did not interpose till he could
not avoid it, and then he told them both that they should endeavour to
keep their temper.
On the 14th of July a decree was passed, upon a motion made by the Duc
d'Orleans, that the thanks of the Parliament should be presented to her
Majesty for her gracious promise that the Cardinal should never return;
that she should be most humbly entreated to send a declaration to
Parliament, and likewise to give the Prince de Conde all the necessary
securities for his return; and that those persons who kept up
correspondence with Mazarin should be immediately prosecuted.
On the 18th the First President carried the remonstrances of the
Parliament to the Queen, and though he took care to keep within the terms
of the decree, by not naming the under ministers, yet he pointed them out
in such a manner that the Queen complained bitterly, saying that the
First President was "an unaccountable man, and more vexatious than any of
the malcontents."
When I took the liberty to show her that the representative of an
assembly could not, without prevarication, but deliver the thoughts of
the whole body, though they might be different from his own, she replied,
very angrily, "These are mere republican maxims."
I will give you an account of the success of the remonstrances after I
have related an adventure to you which happened at the Parliament House
during these debates.
The importance of the subject drew thither a large number of ladies who
were curious to hear what passed. Madame and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse,
with many other ladies, were there the evening before the decree was
passed; but they were singled out from the rest by one Maillard, a
brawling fellow, hired by the Prince's party. As ladies are commonly
afraid of a crowd, they stayed till the Duc d'Orleans and the rest were
gone out, but when they came into the hall they were hooted by twenty or
thirty ragamuffins of the same quality as their leader, who was a
cobbler. I knew nothing of it till I came to the Palace of Chevreuse,
where I found Madame de Chevreuse in a rage and her daughter in tears. I
endeavoured to comfort them by the assurance that I would take care to
get the scoundrels punished in an exemplary manner that very day. But
these were too inconsiderable victims to atone for such an affront, and
were therefore rejected with indignation. The blood of Bourbon only
could make amends for the injury done to that of Lorraine. These were
the very words of Madame de Chevreuse. They resolved at last upon this
expedition,--to go again next morning to the House, but so well
accompanied as to be in a condition of making themselves respected, and
of giving the Prince de Conti to understand that it was to his interest
to keep his party for the future from committing the like insolence.
Montresor, who happened to be with us, did all he could to convince the
ladies how dangerous it was to make a private quarrel of a public one,
especially at a time when a Prince of the blood might possibly lose his
life in the fray. When he found that he could not prevail upon them, he
used all means to persuade me to put off my resentment, for which end he
drew me aside to tell me what joy and triumph it would be to my enemies
to suffer myself to be captivated or led away by the violence of the
ladies' passion. I made him the following answer: "I am certainly to
blame, both with regard to my profession and on account of my having my
hands full, to be so far engaged with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse; but,
considering the obligation I am under to her, and that it is too late to
recede from it, I am in the right in demanding satisfaction in this
present juncture. I will not by any means assassinate the Prince de
Conti; but she may command me to do anything except poisoning or
assassinating, and therefore speak no more to me on this head."
The ladies went again, therefore, next day, being accompanied by four
hundred gentlemen and above four thousand of the most substantial
burghers. The rabble that was hired to make a clamour in the Great Hall
sneaked out of sight, and the Prince de Conti, who had not been apprised
of this assembly, which was formed with great secrecy, was fain to pass
by Madame and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse with demonstrations of the
profoundest respect, and to suffer Maillard, who was caught on the stairs
of the chapel, to be soundly cudgelled.
I return to the issue of the remonstrances. The Queen told the deputies
that she would next morning send to the House a declaration against
Cardinal Mazarin.
On the 21st the Prince de Conde came to Parliament accompanied by M. de
La Rochefoucault and fifty or sixty gentlemen, and congratulated them
upon the removal of the ministers, but said that it could not be
effectual without inserting an article in the declaration which the Queen
had promised to send to the Parliament. The First President said that it
would be both unjust and inconsistent with the respect due to the Queen
to demand new conditions of her every day; that her Majesty's promise, of
which she had made the Parliament a depositary, was a sufficient
security; that it was to be wished that the Prince had shown a due
confidence therein by repairing to the Palais Royal rather than to a
court of justice; and that the post he was in obliged him to express his
surprise at such conduct. The Prince replied that the First President
had no reason to wonder at his great precautions, since he (the Prince)
knew by recent woeful experience what it was to live in a prison; and
that it was notorious that the Cardinal ruled now in the Cabinet more
absolutely than ever he did before.
The Duc d'Orleans, who was gone to Limours on pretence of taking the air,
though on purpose to be absent from Parliament, being informed that the
very women cried at the King's coach "No Mazarin!" and that the Prince de
Conde, as well attended as his Majesty, had met the King in the park, was
so frightened that he returned to Paris, and on the 2d of August went to
Parliament, where I appeared with all my friends and a great number of
wealthy citizens. The First President mightily extolled the Queen's
goodness in making the Parliament the depositary of her promise for the
security of the Prince, who, being there present, was asked by the First
President if he had waited on the King? The Prince said he had not,
because he knew there would be danger in it, having been well informed
that secret conferences had been held to arrest him, and that in a proper
time and place he would name the authors. The Prince added that
messengers were continually going and coming betwixt the Court and
Mazarin at Breule, and that Marechal d'Aumont had orders to cut to pieces
the regiments of Conde, Conti, and Enghien, which was the only reason
that had hindered them from joining the King's army.
The First President told him that he was sorry to see him there before he
had waited on the King, and that it seemed as if he were for setting up
altar against altar. This nettled the Prince to that degree that he said
that those who talked against him had only self-interests in view. The
First President denied that he had any such aim, and said that he was
accountable to the King only for his actions. Then he exaggerated the
danger of the State from the unhappy division of the royal family.
Finally it was resolved, 'nemine contradicente', that the
Solicitor-General should be commissioned to prosecute those who had
advised the arrest of the Prince de Conde; that the Queen's promise for
the safety of the Prince should be registered; that his Royal Highness
should be desired by the whole assembly to go and wait on the King; and
that the decrees passed against the servitors of Mazarin should be put
into execution. The Prince, who seemed very well satisfied, said that
nothing less than this could assure him of his safety. The Duc d'Orleans
carried him to the King and the Queen, from whom he met with but a cold
reception.
At the close of this session the declaration against the Cardinal was
read and sent back to the Chancellor, because it was not inserted that
the Cardinal had hindered the Peace of Munster, and advised the King to
undertake the journey and siege of Bordeaux, contrary to the opinion of
the Duc d'Orleans.
The Queen, provoked by the conduct of the Prince de Conde, who rode
through the streets of Paris better attended than the King, and also by
that of the Duke, whom she found continually given to change, resolved,
in a fit of despair, to hazard all at once. M. de Chateauneuf flattered
her inclination on that point, and she was confirmed in it by a fiery
despatch from Mazarin at Bruele. She told the Duc d'Orleans plainly that
she could no longer continue in her present condition, demanded his
express declaration for or against her, and charged me, in his presence,
to keep the promise I had made her, to declare openly against the Prince
if he continued to go on as he had begun.
Her Majesty was convinced that I acted sincerely for her service, and
that I made no scruple to keep my promise; and she condescended to make
apologies for the distrust she had entertained of my conduct, and for the
injustice she owned she had done me.
On the 19th, the Prince de Conde having taxed me with being the author of
a paper against him, which was read that day in the House, said he had a
paper, signed by the Duc d'Orleans, which contained his justification,
and that he should be much obliged to the Parliament if they would be
pleased to desire her Majesty to name his accusers, against whom he
demanded justice. As to the paper of which he charged me with being the
author, he said it was a composition worthy of a man who had advised the
arming of the Parisians and the wresting of the seals from him with whom
the Queen had entrusted them.
The Prince de Conti was observed to press his brother to resent what I
said in my defence, but he kept his temper; for though I was very well
accompanied, yet he was considerably superior to me in numbers, so that
if the sword had been drawn he must have had the advantage. But I
resolved to appear there the next day with a greater retinue. The Queen
was transported with joy to hear that there were men who had the
resolution to dispute the wall with the Prince.
["The Queen," says M. de La Rochefoucault in his Memoirs, "was overjoyed
to see two men at variance whom in her heart she hated almost equally....
Nevertheless, she seemed to protect the Coadjutor."]
She ordered thirty gendarmes and as many Light-horse to be posted where I
pleased; I had forty men sent me, picked out of the sergeants and bravest
soldiers of one of the regiments of Guards, and some of the officers of
the city companies, and assembled a great number of substantial burghers,
all of whom had pistols and daggers under their cloaks. I also sent many
of my men to the eating-houses thereabouts, so that the Great Hall was,
as it were, invested on every side with my friends. I posted thirty
gentlemen as a reserve in a convenient chamber, who, in case of an
attack, were to assault the party of the Prince in flank and rear. I had
also laid up a store of grenades. In a word, my measures were so nicely
concerted, both within and without the Parliament House, that Pont
Notre-Dame and Pont Saint Michel, who were passionately in my interest,
only waited for the signal; so that in all likelihood I could not fail of
being conqueror.
On the morning of the 21st all the Prince de Conde's humble servants
repaired to his house, and my friends did the like to mine, particularly
the Marquises of Rouillac and Camillac, famous both for their courage and
extravagances. As soon as the latter saw Rouillac, he made me a low bow
in a withdrawing posture, saying, "Monsieur, I came to offer you my
service, but it is not reasonable that the two greatest fools in the
kingdom should be of the same side." The Prince came to the House with a
numerous attendance, and though I believe he had not so many as I, he had
more persons of quality, for I had only the Fronde nobility on my side,
except three or four who, though in the Queen's interest, were
nevertheless my particular friends; this disadvantage, however, was
abundantly made up by the great interest I had among the people and the
advantageous posts I was possessed of. After the Prince had taken his
place, he said that he was surprised to see the Parliament House look
more like a camp than a temple of justice; that there were posts taken,
and men under command; and that he hoped there were not men in the
kingdom so insolent as to dispute the precedence with him. Whereupon I
humbly begged his pardon, and told him that I believed there was not a
man in France so insolent as to do it; but that there were some who could
not, nor indeed ought not, on account of their dignity, yield the
precedence to any man but the King. The Prince replied that he would
make me yield it to him. I told him he would find it no easy matter.
Upon this there was a great outcry, and the young councillors of both
parties interested themselves in the contest, which, you see, began
pretty warmly. The Presidents interposed between us, conjuring him to
have some regard to the temple of justice and the safety of the city, and
desiring that all the nobility and others in the hall that were armed
might be turned out. He approved of it, and bade M. de La Rochefoucault
go and tell his friends so from him. Upon which I said, "I will order my
friends to withdraw also." Young D'Avaux, now President de Mesmes, then
in the Prince's interest, said, "What! monsieur, are you
armed?"--"Without doubt," I said; though I had better have held my
tongue, because an inferior ought to be respectful in words to his
superior, though he may equal him in actions. Neither is it allowable in
a Churchman when armed to confess it. There are some things wherein men
are willing to be deceived. Actions very often vindicate men's
reputations in what they do against the dignity of their profession, but
nothing can justify words that are inconsistent with their character.
As I had desired my friends to withdraw, and was entering into the Court
of Judicature, I heard an uproar in the hall of people crying out "To
arms!" I had a mind to go back to see what was the matter; but I had not
time to do it, for I found myself caught by the neck between the folding
doors, which M. de La Rochefoucault had shut on me, crying out to MM.
Coligny and Ricousse to kill me.
[This action is very much disguised and softened in the Memoirs of
Rochefoucault. M. Joly, in his Memoirs, vol. i., p. 155, tells it almost
in... the same manner as the Cardinal de Retz.]
The first thought he was not in earnest, and the other told him he had no
such order from the Prince. M. Champlatreux, running into the hall and
seeing me in that condition, vigorously pushed back M. de La
Rochefoucault, telling him that a murder of that nature was horrible and
scandalous. He opened the door and let me in. But this was not the
greatest danger I was in, as you will see after I have told you the
beginning and end of it.
Two or three of the Prince de Conde's mob cried out, as soon as they saw
me, "A Mazarin!" Two of the Prince's soldiers drew their swords, those
next to them cried out, "To your arms!" and in a trice all were in a
fighting posture. My friends drew their swords, daggers, and pistols,
and yet, as it were by a miracle, they stopped their hands on a sudden
from action; for in that very instant of time, Crenan, one of my old
friends, who commanded a company of the Prince de Conti's gendarmes, said
to Laigues, "What are we doing? Must we let the Prince de Conde and the
Coadjutor be murdered? Whoever does not put up his sword is a rascal!"
This expression coming from a man of great courage and reputation, every
one did as he bade them. Nor is Argenteuil's courage and presence of
mind to be less admired. He being near me when I was caught by the neck
between the folding doors, and observing one Peche,--[Joly calls him "The
great clamourer of the Prince." See his Memoirs, p. 157.]--a brawling
fellow of the Prince's party, looking for me with a dagger in his hand,
screened me with his cloak, and thereby saved my life, which was in the
more danger because my friends, who supposed I was gone into the Great
Chamber, stayed behind to engage with the Prince de Conde's party. The
Prince told me since that it was well I kept on the defensive, and that
had the noise in the hall continued but a minute longer, he would himself
have taken me by the throat and made me pay for all; but I am fully
persuaded that the consequences would have been fatal to both parties,
and that he himself had had a narrow escape.
As soon as I reentered the Great Chamber I told the First President that
I owed my life to his son, who on that occasion did the most generous
action that a man of honour was capable of, because he was passionately
attached to the Prince de Conde, and was persuaded, though without a
cause, that I was concerned in above twenty editions against his father
during the siege of Paris. There are few actions more heroic than this,
the memory of which I shall carry to my grave. I also added that M. de
La Rochefoucault had done all he could to murder me.'
[The Duke answered, as he says himself in his Memoirs, that fear had
disturbed his judgment, etc. See in the Memoirs of M. de La
Rochefoucault, the relation of what passed after the confinement of the
Princes.]
He answered me these very words: "Thou traitor, I don't care what becomes
of thee." I replied, "Very well, Friend Franchise" (we gave him that
nickname in our party); "you are a coward" (I told a lie, for he was
certainly a brave man), "and I am a priest; but dueling is not allowed
us." M. de Brissac threatened to cudgel him, and he to kick Brissac. The
President, fearing these words would end in blows, got between us. The
First President conjured the Prince pathetically, by the blood of Saint
Louis, not to defile with blood that temple which he had given for the
preservation of peace and the protection of justice; and exhorted me, by
my sacred character, not to contribute to the massacre of the people whom
God had committed to my charge. Both the Prince and I sent out two
gentlemen to order our friends and servants to retire by different ways.
The clock struck ten, the House rose, and thus ended that morning's work,
which was likely to have ruined Paris.
You may easily guess what a commotion Paris was in all that morning.
Tradesmen worked in their shops with their muskets by them, and the women
were at prayers in the churches. Sadness sat on the brows of all who
were not actually engaged in either party. The Prince, if we may believe
the Comte de Fiesque, told him that Paris narrowly escaped being burnt
that day. "What a fine bonfire this would have been for the Cardinal,"
said he; "especially to see it lighted by the two greatest enemies he
had!"
The Duc d'Orleans, quite tired out with the cries of the people, who ran
affrighted to his palace, and fearing that the commotion would not stop
at the Parliament House, made the Prince promise that he would not go
next day to the Parliament with above five in company, provided I would
engage to carry no more. I begged his Royal Highness to excuse me if I
did not comply, because I should be wanting in my respect to the Prince,
with whom I ought not to make any comparison, and because I should be
still exposed to a pack of seditious brawlers, who cried out against me,
having no laws nor owning any chief. I added that it was only against
this sort of people that I armed; that there was so little comparison
between a private gentleman and his Highness that five hundred men were
less to the Prince than a single lackey to me. The Duke, who owned I was
in the right, went to the Queen to represent to her the evil consequences
that would inevitably attend such measures.
The Queen, who neither feared nor foresaw dangers, made no account of his
remonstrances, for she was glad in the main of the dangers which seemed
to be so near at hand. When Bertet and Brachet, who crept up to the
garrets of the Palais Royal for fear of having their throats cut in the
general commotion, had made her sensible that if the Prince and myself
should perish in such a juncture it would occasion such a confusion that
the very name of Mazarin might become fatal to the royal family, she
yielded rather to her fears than to her convictions, and consented to
send an order in the King's name to forbid both the Prince and me to go
to the House. The First President, who was well assured that the Prince
would not obey an order of that nature, which could not be forced upon
him with justice, because his presence was necessary in the Parliament,
went to the Queen and made her sensible that it would be against all
justice and equity to forbid the Prince to be present in an assembly
where he went only to clear himself from a crime laid to his charge. He
showed her the difference between the first Prince of the blood, whose
presence would be necessary in that conjuncture, and a Coadjutor of
Paris, who never had a seat in the Parliament but by courtesy.
The Queen yielded at last to these reasons and to the entreaties of all
the Court ladies, who dreaded the noise and confusion which was likely to
occur next day in the Parliament House.
The Parliament met next day, and resolved that all the papers, both of
the Queen, the Duc d'Orleans, and the Prince de Conde, should be carried
to the King and Queen, that her Majesty should be humbly entreated to
terminate the affair, and that the Duc d'Orleans should be desired to
make overtures towards a reconciliation.
As the Prince was coming out of the Parliament House, attended by a
multitude of his friends, I met him in his coach as I was at the head of
a procession of thirty or forty cures of Paris, followed by a great
number of people. Upon my approach, three or four of the mob following
the Prince cried out, "A Mazarin!" but the Prince alighted and silenced
them.
[M. de La Rochefoucault, in his Memoirs, says that the people abused the
Coadjutor with scurrilous language, and would have torn him in pieces if
the prince had not ordered his men to appease the tumult.]
He then fell on his knees to receive my blessing, which I gave him with
my hat on, and then pulled it off in obeisance.
The Queen was so well pleased with my prudent conduct that I can truly
say I was a favourite for some days. Madame de Carignan was telling her
one day that I was very homely, to which the Queen replied, "He has a
very fine set of teeth, and a man cannot be called homely who has this
ornament." Madame de Chevreuse remembered that she had often heard the
Queen say that the beauty of a man consisted chiefly in his teeth,
because it was the only beauty which was of any use. Therefore she
advised me to act my part well, and she should not despair of success.
"When you are with the Queen," said she, "be serious; look continually on
her hands, storm against the Cardinal, and I will take care of the rest"
I asked two or three audiences of the Queen upon very trifling occasions,
followed Madame de Chevreuse's plan very closely, and carried my
resentment and passion against the Cardinal even to extravagance. The
Queen, who was naturally a coquette, understood those airs, and
acquainted Madame de Chevreuse therewith, who pretended to be surprised,
saying, "Indeed, I have heard the Coadjutor talk of your Majesty whole
days with delight; but if the conversation happened to touch upon the
Cardinal, he was no longer the same man, and even raved against your
Majesty, but immediately relented towards you, though never towards the
Cardinal."
Madame de Chevreuse, who was the Queen's confidante in her youth, gave me
such a history of her early days as I cannot omit giving you, though I
should have done it sooner. She told me that the Queen was neither in
body nor mind truly Spanish; that she had neither the temperament nor the
vivacity of her nation, but only the coquetry of it, which she retained
in perfection; that M. Bellegarde, a gallant old gentleman, after the
fashion of the Court of Henri III., pleased her till he was going to the
army, when he begged for one favour before his departure, which was only
to put her hand to the hilt of his sword, a compliment so insipid that
her Majesty was out of conceit with him ever after. She approved the
gallant manner of M. de Montmorency much more than she loved his person.
The aversion she had to the pedantic behaviour of Cardinal de Richelieu,
who in his amours was as ridiculous as he was in other things excellent,
made her irreconcilable to his addresses. She had observed from the
beginning of the Regency a great inclination in the Queen for Mazarin,
but that she had not been able to discover how far that inclination went,
because she (Madame de Chevreuse) had been banished from the Court very
soon after; and that upon her return to France, after the siege of Paris,
the Queen was so reserved at first with her that it was impossible for
her to dive into her secrets. That since she regained her Majesty's
favour she had sometimes observed the same airs in her with regard to
Cardinal Mazarin as she used to display formerly in favour of the Duke of
Buckingham; but at other times she thought that there was no more between
them than a league of friendship. The chief ground for her conjecture
was the impolite and almost rude way in which the Cardinal conversed with
her Majesty. "But, however," said Madame de Chevreuse, "when I reflect
on the Queen's humour, all this may admit of another interpretation.
Buckingham used to tell me that he had been in love with three Queens,
and was obliged to curb all the three; therefore I cannot tell what to
think of the matter."
To resume the history of more public affairs. I did not so far please
myself with the figure I made against the Prince (though I thought it
very much for my honour), but I saw clearly that I stood on a dangerous
precipice.
"Whither are we going?" I said to M. Bellievre, who seemed to be
overjoyed that the Prince had not been able to devour me; "for whom do we
labour? I know that we are obliged to act as we do; I know, too, that we
cannot do better; but should we rejoice at the fatal necessity which
pushes us on to exert an action comparatively good and which will
unavoidably end in a superlative evil?"
"I understand you," said the President, "and will interrupt you for one
moment to tell you what I learned of Cromwell" (whom he had known in
England). "He told me one day that it is then we are mounting highest
when we ourselves do not know whither we are going."
"You know, monsieur," said I to Bellievre, "that I abhor Cromwell; and
whatever is commonly reported of his great parts, if he is of this
opinion, I must pronounce him a fool."
I mentioned this dialogue for no other purpose than to observe how
dangerous it is to talk disrespectfully of men in high positions; for it
was carried to Cromwell, who remembered it with a great deal of
resentment on an occasion which I shall mention hereafter, and said to M.
de Bourdeaux, Ambassador of France, then in England, "I know but one man
in the world who despises me, and that is Cardinal de Retz." This
opinion of him was likely to have cost me very dear. I return from this
digression.
On the 31st, Melayer, valet de chambre to the Cardinal, arrived with a
despatch to the Queen, in which were these words: "Give the Prince de
Conde all the declarations of his innocence that he can desire, provided
you can but amuse him and hinder him from giving you the slip."
On the 4th the Prince de Conde insisted in Parliament on a formal decree
for declaring his innocence, which was granted, but deferred to be
published till the 7th of September (the day that the King came of age),
on pretence of rendering it more authentic and solemn by the King's
presence, but really to gain time, and see what influence the splendour
of royalty, which was to be clothed that day with all the advantages of
pomp, would have upon the minds of the people.
But the Prince de Conde, who had reason to distrust both the Fronde and
the Court, did not appear at the ceremony, and sent the Prince de Conti
to the King to desire to be excused, because the calumnies and
treacheries of his enemies would not suffer him to come to the Palace;
adding that he kept away out of pure respect to his Majesty. This last
expression, which seemed to intimate that otherwise he might have gone
thither without danger, provoked the Queen to that degree that she said,
"The Prince or I must perish."
The Prince de Conde retired to Bourges,--further from Court. He was
naturally averse to a civil war, nor would his adherents have been more
forward than himself if they had found their interests in his
reconciliation to the Court; but this seemed impracticable, and therefore
they agreed upon a civil war, because none of them believed themselves
powerful enough to conclude a peace. They know nothing of the nature of
faction who imagine the head of a party to be their master. His true
interest is most commonly thwarted by the imaginary interests even of his
subalterns, and the worst of it is that his own honour sometimes, and
generally prudence, joins with them against himself. The passions and
discontent which reigned then among the friends of the Prince de Conde
ran so high that they were obliged to abandon him and form a third party,
under the authority of the Prince de Conti, in case the Prince
accomplished his reconciliation to the Court, according to a proposition
then made to him in the name of the Duc d'Orleans. The subdivision of
parties is generally the ruin of all, especially when it is introduced by
cunning views, directly contrary to prudence; and this is what the
Italians call, in comedy, a "plot within a plot," or a "wheel within a
wheel."