Any other nation, after its Mazarins, its Fouquets, its
Louvois, so many wars, so many glories, so many heroes, so
many rascals, would have stayed crushed and never arisen.
Nevertheless, France still lives.--MICHELET.[b]
[Sidenote: [1643-1661 A.D.]]
Louis XIII had hastened to carry out all the provisions of Richelieu’s
will. His own did not meet with the same fate, for its most important
dispositions were immediately modified. While regretfully appointing
Anne of Austria regent he had put strong restrictions upon her authority
and provided that the partisans of Richelieu, Mazarin and the prince of
Condé, were to control the government. He knew the queen had not been
unaware of the conspiracies of the court, not even of that of Cinq-Mars,
and that she had always listened to Richelieu’s enemies. Towards the end
he had drawn nearer to her and his brother, but without granting them his
confidence.
[Sidenote: [1643 A.D.]]
Scarcely had Louis closed his eyes when Mazarin resolved to give over the
entire government to the queen. Unity and power seemed, to the cardinal,
the most necessary thing: he came to an understanding with the bishop of
Beauvais, almoner of the queen; he was able to persuade Gaston, Condé,
and the other councillors, who withdrew opposition in consideration
of the compensation offered them. Consequently, on the 18th of May,
parliament met in extraordinary session; the peers were present. The
queen attended with the young Louis XIV and held a bed of justice. On the
express renunciation of the duke of Orleans and the prince of Condé the
assembly unanimously set aside all the restrictions to the queen’s power,
and decided that the title of lieutenant-general held by the duke of
Orleans would be simply honorary.[c]
The queen-mother was now in her forty-second year. She inspired almost
universal sympathy, by her good looks, agreeable manner, and previous
misfortunes which now counted for virtues. Age had made her more
sedate and more devout; her devotion, however, was still mingled with
gallantry, but it was the serious romantic gallantry of Spain which is
not incompatible with external dignity and reserve. Facile and genial in
ordinary intercourse, but altogether impulsive and insincere when her
passions were aroused; going when necessary as far as perjury--though
doubtless with the resource of mental reservation--to extricate herself
from a wrong step; intrepid by temperament, in spite of more than one act
of moral cowardice; of an unconquerable stubbornness in her prejudices
and in certain of her attachments, although sensitive to ingratitude; at
the same time absolute by her temperament and her principles, and unable
through inactivity to exercise the absolute power, her queenly nature was
invaluable to a minister capable of making a favourable impression on her
head and her heart.
Mazarin made an attack on both of these at the same time, and soon
occupied an unshakable position with her. Their correspondence leaves
doubt neither as to the passion which this minister expressed and which
he inspired in the queen, nor as to the constancy which Anne had at least
the merit of preserving in this last passion, which the progress of age
did not extinguish.[96]
Mazarin was of the same age as the queen. We may recall his brilliant
début as a diplomat thirteen years before, when before Casale he
prevented two armies from falling upon each other. Since then he had
remained faithfully attached to the interests of France, which had raised
him to the cardinalate without his having received holy orders--he never
was a priest.[97] He gave himself out to be a Roman nobleman. His enemies
denied this, and asserted that his father, a Sicilian merchant, had taken
refuge in the states of the holy father, after having gone bankrupt at
Palermo. A. Renée[e] has investigated every version of the cardinal’s
origin and concludes that his father, the son of a Sicilian artisan, came
a fortune-seeker to Rome, where he became chamberlain to the constable
Colonna. At all events the mind, the face, the complaisance, and the
dexterity of the young Giulio Mazarini won him, at an early age, the
patronage of some of the noble houses of Rome, and after having tried the
sword, the young adventurer felt his vocation and assumed the soutane
as a stepping-stone to diplomacy; at the age of twenty-eight he met
Richelieu--we know the rest.
The character and the future of the fortunate Italian were still at
this moment a problem for the court and for the public.[d] As yet he
frightened no one. He was far from being believed as powerful and
especially as much a master of the queen’s mind as he already was. He
often spoke of returning to Italy. What then was the astonishment when,
on the very evening of the bed of justice, it developed that Anne of
Austria had designated him to preside over the council.[c]
It would take a simple mind indeed to believe that an event as foreseen
as the death of the king should have taken the queen unawares, that
she should not have known which way to turn, and that she should have
seriously offered the power to this one or to that. The whole affair
was certainly settled beforehand; and for what reason? By reason of her
indolence, which told her that a bed already made was better to lounge
on, sleep in, than a new arrangement which would oblige her to will, to
think. She knew that, ready to set out from London, from Brussels, from
Madrid, there was a crowd of exiles, calling themselves martyrs to the
queen’s cause, who would demand the crown for their martyrdom. How to
satisfy them? She was all ears to him who taught her the sweetness of
ingratitude.
In this Mazarin was admirable. He often varied, but never on this point.
His character offers the beauty of a well-sustained type which does
not contradict itself. Ingrate towards Joseph and Chavigny, who made
him in France, he got out of two scrapes during the Fronde by the same
means--ingratitude towards Condé and then towards De Retz. Finally he
crowned his life with what was worse than all--ingratitude towards the
queen, his old-time sweetheart.
The puppets of Richelieu, odious, detested, the Chavignys, the
Bouthilliers, were impossible; Mazarin was a stranger, with no ties
in France, and ready to depart as soon as he had put the queen _au
courant_. He was packing up his things. A good excuse for remaining.
The queen appeared very uncertain. She consulted much, hesitated much.
Finally Condé came to tell Mazarin, “ready to depart,” that the queen
made him chief of the council, keeping also Chavigny and his father, the
chancellor Séguier, the same who had conducted the inquiry against her in
1637.
A mortal blow for Beaufort and the Vendômes, the queen’s friends. When
they demanded an explanation she said that Mazarin would not let her
forget her friends, that he was _au courant_ of affairs, a stranger,
consequently the less dangerous, that he was amusing, but above all
disinterested. This disinterestedness was so extreme, and the poor man
remained so poor, that after a few years, when he was driven out and
wished to return, he was able to raise an army with his own money![b]
BATTLE OF ROCROI (MAY 18TH-19TH, 1643 A.D.)
But before anything could happen, Paris was suddenly struck with a piece
of good news which produced the very greatest effect. While under the
last reign no great battle had been accomplished by the French armies,
that of Louis XIV opened with the victory of Rocroi.
Francisco de Mello had advanced to the frontier of the Low Countries
with 28,000 men, counting on profiting by the uncertainty into which the
last illness and death of Louis XIII would plunge the French government.
France had, on her side, an army in the field to observe him, and
it was Louis XIII’s will that this army be placed in command of the
duke d’Enghien, son of Condé, a young prince of twenty-two years, the
choice of whom must attach his house all the more closely to the future
regency. Enghien had served hitherto only as a volunteer; but he had
been instructed, exercised, and formed in the best of schools. He had
already shown in war a vigour and intelligence which everyone applauded.
He inspired confidence both in his officers and his soldiers. They
foresaw in him a great captain. As an adviser and to moderate his ardour
he had been given an able lieutenant-general, Duhallier, become Marshal
de l’Hôpital, and several excellent _maréchaux de camp_, Gassion, La
Ferté-Senneterre, and Sirot.
The Spaniards entered Champagne, and besieged Rocroi. The place,
important by its situation at the head of the Ardennes, was in no
condition to resist. Enghien, having collected between St. Quentin and
Guise 14,000 infantry and 6,000 horse, marched to its relief. On the
way he learned of Louis XIII’s death, but the news did not stop him. He
resolved to give battle to relieve the tedium of methodic warfare--this
was also the advice of Gassion and Sirot. On the 18th of May he arrived
before the Spaniards, who, protected by woods through which the French
had to pass, were not expecting to see them appear; and the time they
took to range themselves for battle permitted the French prince to
approach. The day was far advanced and he contented himself with a
small amount of cannonading. The next day Enghien ordered the attack at
daybreak, for he wished to forestall the arrival of a corps which General
Beck was bringing to Francisco de Mello. He himself, with Gassion,
charged at the head of the right wing and routed the enemy. The left
wing, commanded by Marshal de l’Hôpital and La Ferté-Senneterre, had
less success. It disputed its ground but was badly used. Enghien and
Gassion, victorious on the right, did not neglect their advantages. They
immediately fell upon the Spanish division which was in action with De
l’Hôpital, the moment at which, thinking itself victorious, it began to
break ranks and was running to pillage the tents of the French. Sirot,
in command of the reserves, received the order to advance, and he waited
to execute it until the very moment when Enghien and Gassion should have
renewed the contest. Then he gave it, and the victory was decided. The
two divisions of the enemy broken and put to flight, there yet remained
the Spanish reserve infantry which formed a square battalion difficult to
penetrate. It was composed of picked veterans and commanded by the old
count de Fuentes, who had to be carried in a litter at the head of his
soldiers. The victorious Enghien threw himself upon the square, dealt it
several sharp attacks, and finally broke it by attacking its rear and
flanks while his cannon thundered upon it.[c]
The massacre was appalling. Moved to pity, the duke d’Enghien threw
himself between the two armies, commanding his men to spare the
vanquished. “All the Spanish infantry,” says La Moussaie, “crowded
round him and his commanding officers, seeking shelter from the fury
of the French, and more particularly of the Swiss, who could not bring
themselves to make prisoners of any.” After giving orders to the
prisoners’ guard, the prince collected his troops and prepared to receive
Beck, should he have the courage to meet him on the plain. But Gassion
shortly returned from his pursuit of the enemy and informed the duke that
he had nothing to fear from the German general. Beck had not even passed
beyond the edge of the wood, being content with rallying the fugitives,
and at the approach of Gassion’s cavalry he had fled precipitately
towards Luxemburg.
Seeing his triumph thus complete, the duke d’Enghien, with the Christian
piety that never forsook him even in battle, fell on his knees, in
company with his whole army, and gave thanks to God for the victory.
Thus ended one of the most bloody and most glorious days in the history
of France. The battle had lasted four hours. The Spanish army left 8,000
dead upon the field, and 6,000 prisoners in the hands of the French.
Among the slain was the brave count de Fuentes. Don Francisco de Mello
had been made a prisoner for a few moments, but he managed to escape and
took refuge at Mariembourg, then at Philippeville, where he collected the
fragments of the Spanish army. Two hundred flags and sixty standards fell
into the hands of the French. The Spanish baggage wagons were plundered
and were found to contain all the money destined for the pay of the
troops. The French lost about two thousand men.[f]
Enghien possessed the power of prompt decision and knew the value of
time. He turned his victory to good account by marching immediately upon
Thionville, the possession of which was of extreme importance to the
Three Bishoprics and at the siege of which Feuquières had come to grief
in 1639. Mazarin approved his plan and furnished all that was necessary
for the siege. Instead of proceeding with that methodical regularity
learned from the Dutch, Enghien pressed his attacks; they were very
deadly, especially for the officers, but his plan was to reach his end
the more quickly, to astonish the enemy, and to avoid sickness, which was
more fatal than artillery in prolonged sieges. Thionville surrendered
the 8th of August. The little town of Sierck, which commanded Luxemburg,
capitulated a few days later.
Enghien was placed at a bound above all the captains employed by
Richelieu. The French army, formed by eight successive years of
campaigns, equal at least to those of neighbouring nations, leaving
nothing to be desired in instruction, experience of its officers,
discipline, good administration, or material organisation, had finally
found a leader worthy of it. Enghien, with his eagle glance, great
promptitude of execution, and an ardour which he knew how to moderate,
disconcerted the rational and prudent tactics of the enemy’s generals.
The battle of Rocroi bore witness to the military progress of France, and
dealt a serious blow to the prestige of the Spanish armies, when Spain
had, for three years, been seeing her power shaken and her resources
weakened.[c]
THE IMPORTANTS (1643 A.D.)
The return of Mazarin to power was received with surprise and
mortification by the returned exiles, the enemies of Richelieu, those who
had deemed themselves possessed of the heart and confidence of the queen.
They were for the most part young men, such as the duke de Beaufort,
and a host of noble striplings, who were all, nevertheless, profound
statesmen in their own esteem.
With pretensions to govern, they found it necessary to alter or conceal
their juvenile and frivolous habits; they affected to be grave and
sententious, and some even thought it necessary to give time to study and
reflection; a whim, the characteristic and beneficial consequences of
which are seen in the _Mémoires_ of De Retz and the _Maximes_ of the duke
de la Rochefoucauld. The latter was at this time one of the young friends
of the queen. Despite the talents that some of these youths afterwards
displayed, their present pretensions and demeanour were considered as
absurd, and the party was ironically called _les Importants_, that of the
“important.” On the side opposed to them were drawn up Cardinal Mazarin,
the old partisans of Richelieu, and, amongst the noblesse, the prince of
Condé and his gallant son, the duke d’Enghien.
The queen-regent, as became her position, affected neutrality, but
supported her newly chosen minister. The _importants_, however, hoped
to regain the ascendency through the means of Anne of Austria’s old
favourite, Madame de Chevreuse, who was now returning from her long
exile. This lady had once been all-powerful with the queen: her
misfortunes, occasioned by that attachment, gave her, she thought, an
increase of claim; she totally put out of consideration how far the
policy of a regent might interfere with the affections of a queen, and
her party pretensions were as high as her resentments. She was warmly
and cordially welcomed back by Anne; Mazarin hastened to conciliate her,
and commenced by placing 50,000 crowns before her, asking if he might
count her amongst his friends. Madame de Chevreuse required the dismissal
of Chavigny, and the cardinal instantly consented to sacrifice the
secretary: then came the great demands of the party, _viz._, that Sedan
should be restored to the duke de Bouillon, the government of Brittany to
the duke de Vendôme, and that of Guienne to young Épernon; Le Havre, too,
was required for the future duke de la Rochefoucauld.
[Illustration: MADAME DE MONTBAZON]
These demands were no less than to re-constitute the power and
independence of the grandees, that Richelieu had spent his life and
steeped his memory in blood in order to reduce. Anne of Austria and
Mazarin, now in the place of authority held by Richelieu, could not but
see with his eyes: the adroit Mazarin, however, did not give to Madame
de Chevreuse the flat and peremptory denial that would have come from
Richelieu’s mouth; he looked complaisant and yielding, and drew on the
negotiatrix of the _importants_ to fresh pretensions. One of these was
to supersede the chancellor Séguier by Châteauneuf. Now Châteauneuf had
presided at the commission which condemned the duke de Montmorency, and
to favour him would be to outrage the princess of Condé, sister of that
duke. Mazarin pretended to stand out on this point, hesitatingly, no
doubt; Madame de Chevreuse insisted; and the cardinal, determined to
break with a party whose pretensions were exorbitant, and which sought to
replace the aristocracy on its old footing of superiority to government
and ministry, affected to break with them rather than insult the family
of Condé; thus securing powerful support, and averting the suspicions of
the young noblesse from the political jealousy which he bore them.
A rupture was declared; and a lady’s quarrel soon afterwards occurred to
precipitate hostilities, and give the minister a pretext for acting. The
duchess de Longueville, of the family of Condé, and one of the beauties
of the court, was maligned by Madame de Montbazon, sister-in-law of
Madame de Chevreuse. The latter found a _billet-doux_ in the handwriting
of the former, and addressed, she asserted, to the count de Coligny. This
piece of scandal or calumny convulsed the entire circle of influential
personages. The duke d’Enghien challenged the duke de Beaufort; the Duke
of Guise and the count de Coligny fought in the Place Royal, Madame
de Longueville being spectatress of the discomfiture of her chevalier,
who died of his wounds. The queen in vain endeavoured to bring about an
accommodation. The _importants_ were too deeply mortified, and nothing
short of the disgrace of the cardinal would satisfy them. The queen
peremptorily refusing this, the duke de Beaufort entered into a scheme
for making away with the cardinal by violence. Circumstances occurred
to baffle and interrupt the design. Épernon was sounded in the meantime
by one of the conspirators, and he instantly betrayed it. The duke de
Beaufort was consequently arrested on the following day. Mesdames de
Montbazon and Chevreuse were both exiled, as well as the duke and duchess
of Vendôme, the dukes of Guise and Mercœur, and other less illustrious
nobles. Here is the exculpation of Richelieu, and the excuse of his
severity. No sooner is Anne of Austria, his rival and enemy, in the
place of power, than she is obliged to adopt his policy and his strong
measures, notwithstanding that such acts did violence to her private
feelings. She wept on ordering the arrest of Beaufort; but, like the late
monarch, she was compelled to sacrifice her feelings to her own interest
and that of the state. The reign of the _importants_ lasted three months
and a half.
[Sidenote: [1643-1647 A.D.]]
The four years which succeeded 1643 were years of tranquillity to the
regent, triumph to Mazarin, and glory to France. The petulance of the
noblesse was checked by the discomfiture of the _importants_. Mazarin,
instead of imitating Richelieu and reigning by terror alone, sought to
captivate by giving scope to pleasure, and creating a general taste for
light and social amusements. He encouraged fêtes and gallantry. He was
prodigal of favours, of money, of everything save authority. He bound
the noblesse, and their more froward dames and mistresses, in golden
and in flowery chains; and those who a year before were clamouring for
independent governments, then limited their ambition to a duke’s title.
The sage La Rochefoucauld himself has recorded in his _Mémoires_[m] how
he pleaded for this important distinction, in order, as he observes, that
his wife might enjoy the privilege of a _tabouret_ or stool at court.[g]
THE EDUCATION OF THE YOUNG KING
Louis XIV, born September 5th, 1638, had now (1645) completed his seventh
year; that being the age at which kings passed from the control of women
to the control of men, it became necessary to provide him with a governor
and a tutor. To Cardinal Mazarin the queen desired to hand over the
supreme control of Louis’ bringing up, and for that purpose created for
him the post of superintendent of the king’s education.
Several contemporary writers have reproached Mazarin with having directed
the education of the young Louis carelessly. La Porte, a groom of the
bed-chamber to the king, accused the cardinal of having no other dream
than to obtain empire over the young prince’s will by surrounding him
with his own family and partisans. Madame de Motteville,[k] without being
quite so prejudiced, claims that he thwarted the good intentions of the
young prince’s governor, the marquis de Villeroi. Nevertheless, an entry
in the note-books proves that even as early as 1647 Mazarin exerted
himself to remove from the prince such persons as he thought dangerous.
In the case of François de Rochechouart, who enjoyed an old-established
credit with the queen, Mazarin declared that a place must not be given
him near the king; “for,” he writes, “his incessant flatteries are
extremely prejudicial to the king, and prompt him to regard with great
displeasure those who speak the truth to him.” Yet one must recognise
that during a long period the cardinal, absorbed in politics, paid little
heed to the king’s education. It was only during the later years of his
life that, having reached the summit of power and glory, he helped by his
counsels to inspire in the young Louis habits of order, of regular work,
of strong and tenacious will, of supreme and authoritative government.
Judging by results, this education was far from being sterile. The king’s
governor, intrusted to accompany him everywhere, to watch over his safety
and direct his actions, was Nicolas de Neufville, first marquis, then
duke and marshal, de Villeroi. This individual had gained a certain
renown in war, but it was pre-eminently as a clever and pliant courtier
that he shone. He was a willing tool in the hands of the minister. It
seems that his rôle was limited to winning the young king’s good graces,
to teaching him the ways and manners of the court, in which he himself
excelled, and to giving him for companion and favourite his own son,
François de Neufville-Villeroi, who became in his turn Duke-Marshal de
Villeroi.
The post of tutor was filled by Hardouin de Beaumont de Péréfixe, doctor
of the Sorbonne, who ultimately became archbishop of Paris, and to whom
we owe a _History of Henry IV_ written for the instruction of Louis
XIV. The classical education of the young king was meagre. Madame de
Motteville[k] tells us “he was made to translate Cæsar’s _Commentaries_;
he learned to dance, to draw, and to ride, and he was very skilful in all
bodily exercises.” The Venetian ambassador, Nani, asserts that the tutor
did neglect to teach the young king the principles of virtue.[f]
MILITARY GLORY (1644-1648 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1644-1648 A.D.]]
The year 1644 is marked by the brilliant manœuvres of the duke of Enghien
and Turenne.[g] After the capture of Sierck, Enghien drove the Germans
back across the Rhine, and crossed after them; he hastened to repair
the losses and defeats which the French had met with on the frontier
after the death of Marshal de Guébriant, which had occurred at the
siege of Rottweil in Swabia (1643). [Guébriant’s army, now badly led by
several leaders, had allowed itself to be surprised by the imperials at
Tuttlingen.] Enghien found Freiburg im Breisgau taken and the Bavarian
general Mercy beneath its walls with an army greater than his own.
Enghien had two marshals of France under him, of whom one was Grammont
and the other Turenne, who had just been created marshal after having
served brilliantly in Piedmont against the Spaniards. The duke and
his two generals attacked Mercy’s camp intrenched on two heights. The
battle recommenced three times on three different days (August 3rd-5th,
1644). It is said that the duke of Enghien threw his commander’s baton
into the enemy’s entrenchments and, sword in hand, went after it at the
head of the Conti regiment.[98] The battle of Freiburg, more bloody
than decisive, was the duke’s second victory. Mercy decamped four days
afterwards. Philippsburg, Worms, and Mainz were the proof and the fruit
of the victory.
Enghien returned to Paris, received the acclamation of the people and
demanded recompense of the court; leaving his army to the prince-marshal
Turenne. But this general, skilful as he was, was beaten at Marienthal
(May, 1645). Enghien hastened back to his troops, resumed the command,
and joined to the glory of again commanding Turenne that of repairing
his defeat. He attacked Mercy on the plains of Nördlingen, and won a
great battle early in August. Marshal de Grammont was captured, but so
was General Glen who commanded under Mercy, and the latter himself was
among the slain. Mercy, who has been reckoned among the great captains
of his time, was buried close to the battle-field, and on his tomb was
graven, “_Sta Viator; Heroem Calcas_” (Halt traveller, thou treadest on a
hero).
The name of the duke d’Enghien[99] now eclipsed all others. In October,
1646, he besieged Dunkirk in sight of the Spanish army, and was the first
to give that place to the French. Such success and such service brought
forth less reward than suspicion in the court, and made him as much
feared by the ministry as by the enemy. Condé [as we must now call him]
was therefore withdrawn from the scenes of this conquest and glory and
sent into Catalonia with inefficient and ill-paid troops. He besieged
Lerida, but was obliged to raise the siege (1647). A wavering state of
affairs soon forced the court to recall the prince to Flanders. The
archduke Leopold, brother of the emperor Ferdinand III, was besieging
Lens in Artois. Condé, restored to the troops which had always been
victorious under him, led them straight for the archduke. This was the
third time he had given battle with disadvantage in numbers. He spoke to
his soldiers these simple words: “Friends, remember Rocroi, Freiburg, and
Nördlingen!”[100] (August 20th, 1648).
He himself relieved Marshal de Grammont, who was about to surrender with
the left wing; he captured General Beck. The archduke saved himself with
difficulty with the count of Fuensaldaña. The imperials and the Spaniards
composing the army were scattered; they lost more than a hundred banners
and thirty-eight pieces of cannon, which was a considerable number for
that time. Five thousand prisoners were taken; three thousand men were
killed; the rest deserted and the archduke was left without an army.
Never since the foundation of the monarchy had the French won so many
battles in succession, and ones so noted for military ability and courage.
While the prince of Condé was thus counting the years of his youth in
victories, and the duke of Orleans, brother of Louis XIII, was upholding
the reputation of a son of Henry IV and of France by the capture of
Gravelines (July, 1644), Courtrai, and Mardyck (November, 1644), the
viscount de Turenne had taken Landau, had driven the Spaniards from
Treves, and re-established the elector. In November, 1647, with the help
of the Swedes under Wrangel, Torstenson’s successor, he won the battle of
Lawingen, and that of Zusmarshausen (May, 1648). He compelled the elector
of Bavaria to leave his states, at the age of almost eighty. The count
d’Harcourt took Balaguer and beat the Spaniards. They lost Porto Longone
in Italy (1646). Twenty vessels and twenty galleys of France, which
composed almost the whole navy as re-established by Richelieu, defeated
the Spanish fleet off the Italian coast.
This was not all. The French arms had again invaded Lorraine; and Duke
Charles IV, a warrior prince, but an inconstant, rash, and unfortunate
one, saw himself at the same time deprived of his state by France and
kept prisoner by the Spaniards (May, 1644). The allies of France pressed
the Austrian power on the north and south. The duke of Albuquerque, the
Portuguese general, won the battle of Badajoz from Spain in March, 1645.
Torstenson defeated the imperials near Tabor and obtained a complete
victory. The prince of Orange, at the head of the Dutch, penetrated as
far as Brabant.
The king of Spain, beaten on every side, saw Roussillon and Catalonia
in the hands of the French. Naples in revolt against him had just given
itself into the hands of the duke of Guise, the last prince of that
branch of a house fruitful in illustrious and dangerous men. This one,
who had passed only for a bold adventurer, because he did not succeed,
had at least the glory of boarding single-handed a bark in the midst of
the Spanish fleet and of defending Naples with no other resource than his
own courage.
At the sight of so many misfortunes crushing the house of Austria, so
many victories accumulated by the French, seconded by the success of
their allies, one would have believed that Vienna and Madrid were only
waiting to open their gates, and that the emperor and the king of Spain
were almost without dominions. Nevertheless these five years of glory,
crossed with only a few reverses, brought few real advantages and much
spilled blood, but no revolution. If one was to be feared it was for
France. She was on the verge of ruin in the midst of this apparent
prosperity.[i]
TREATY OF WESTPHALIA (1648 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1641-1648 A.D.]]
Negotiations for peace had been going on for a long time. Proposed in
1641, conferences were opened April 10th, 1643, in two Westphalian
cities--Münster and Osnabrück. The questions for consideration were the
altering of the map of Europe after a thirty years’ war; of providing the
empire with a new constitution; and of regulating the civil and religious
rights of the several Christian nations. France was represented at this
congress by able negotiators, the count d’Avaux and Abel Servien; but her
best diplomats were Condé and Turenne, whose swords had simplified the
negotiations by rendering peace a necessity. At the last moment Spain
withdrew, hoping to profit by the troubles of the Fronde, then commencing
in France. The other countries, in haste to have finished, signed the
peace (October 24th, 1648).
During the Thirty Years’ War Austria had striven to stifle religious and
political liberty in Germany. Austria being defeated, that against which
she had fought remained and increased. The Protestants obtained full
liberty of conscience, and imperial authority, but lately threatening,
was annulled; the princes of the German states, confirmed in the
exercise of complete authority over their territories, had the right of
alliance with foreign powers so long as these alliances (so read a vain
restriction) were “against neither the emperor nor the empire.”
The two powers which had achieved the defeat of Austria had stipulated
for themselves important indemnities. Sweden gained the island of Rügen,
Wismar, western Pomerania with Stettin, the archbishopric of Bremen,
and the bishopric of Verden--that is to say, the mouths of the three
great German rivers, the Oder, the Elbe, and the Weser--with 5,000,000
crowns and three votes in the diet. France continued to occupy Lorraine,
promising to restore it to its duke when he should have complied with
her conditions. She obtained the empire’s renunciation of all right over
the Three Bishoprics--Metz, Toul, and Verdun, which she had possessed
for a century; over the town of Pinerolo, ceded by the duke of Savoy in
1631; over Alsace, which was now--with the exception of Strasburg--given
to France, carrying her boundaries beyond the Vosges as far as the Rhine.
She also obtained Breisach, on the right bank of that river, and her
right to garrison Philippsburg was recognised; the right of navigation on
the Rhine was guaranteed her.
[Illustration: A FRENCH OFFICER, MIDDLE OF SEVENTEENTH CENTURY]
These were great advantages; because, by recovering Alsace, France
covered Lorraine on the side of Germany and established herself to the
north of Franche-Comté, which since Henry IV she had enveloped on the
south; so that the return to France of these two provinces was only
a question of time. Not only were her frontiers now better outlined
for defence, but she was able to maintain an offensive position. By
the acquisition of Pinerolo France planted a foot beyond the Alps in
Italy; by Breisach and Philippsburg, beyond the Rhine in Germany. By
opening the eyes of the German states to their right to contract foreign
alliances France was always able to buy over one or another of their
indigent princes, and by guaranteeing the execution of the treaty, she
gave herself the right to interfere in German affairs. The empire--being
now no more than a sort of confederation of 360 states, Lutheran and
Catholic, monarchical and republican, laical and ecclesiastical--became
of necessity the theatre for all sorts of intrigues, the battle-field of
Europe, as Italy had been at the beginning of modern times, and for the
same reasons--division and anarchy.
The Treaty of Westphalia, which was the foundation for all diplomatic
conventions from the middle of the seventeenth century until the French
Revolution, put an end to the supremacy of the house of Austria, and
rescued the independence of the small states. If the Bourbons had not
inherited the ambition of the Habsburgs, and roused against themselves
the same coalitions, the Peace of Westphalia would have accomplished the
supremacy of France and the political liberty of Europe.
MAZARIN’S DOMESTIC POLICY
[Sidenote: [1646-1648 A.D.]]
While Mazarin gloriously continued the policy of Richelieu, his power in
France was being destroyed by factions.[h]
At first he used his power with moderation. He affected, at the beginning
of his supremacy, as much of simplicity as Richelieu had displayed of
arrogance. Far from employing guards, and keeping up royal splendour,
he had at first the most modest retinue. He was affable and even gentle
where his predecessor had shown inflexible pride.
But with all this, taxation was necessary to maintain the war against the
Spaniards and against the emperor. The finances of France were, since the
death of Henry IV, as badly administered as those of Spain and Germany.
The excise offices were in chaos, ignorance was extreme, thievery was
paramount. The revenue of the state amounted during the first year of the
regency to between fifteen and sixteen million livres. This was quite
sufficient if there had been any economy in the ministry; but in 1646 and
1647 there were deficits. The superintendent of the finances was at times
a Sienese peasant named Particelli Émery, whose soul was even baser than
his birth, and whose extravagance and debauchery aroused the nation to
indignation. This man invented burdensome and ridiculous expedients. He
created and sold posts of inspectors of fagots, of licensed hay venders,
of king’s councillors, of wine hawkers; he sold letters of nobility.
The debts on the Hôtel-de-Ville at Paris then amounted to only about
eleven millions, but the fund-holders were deprived of several quarterly
dividends; import duties were increased; several posts of masters of
requests (to whom all petitions were intrusted) were created; about
eighty thousand crowns of magistrates’ salaries were held back.
It is easy to realise how far the minds of the people were aroused
against two Italians, both come penniless to France, who had enriched
themselves at the expense of the nation and who now had such a hold over
them. The parliament of Paris, the masters of requests, the other courts,
the fund-holders, rebelled. In vain did Mazarin remove his confidant
Émery from office and relegate him to one of his estates--there was
indignation that this man should have estates in France. The cardinal was
held in abhorrence, although at this very moment he was consummating the
great work of the Peace of Westphalia; for it must be noted that this
famous treaty and the “day of barricades” are of the same year, 1648. The
civil wars began at Paris as they had begun in England, over a little
money. In 1647 the parliament of Paris, in verifying the tax edicts,
showed itself spiritedly opposed to them. It acquired the confidence of
the people by remonstrances which were very wearying to the ministry. But
it did not revolt. Its spirit became embittered and hardened by degrees.
The populace might rush to arms at once and choose a leader as they had
done with Masaniello at Naples; but magistrates and statesmen proceed
with more deliberation, and begin by observing the proprieties as far as
party spirit will permit.
Cardinal Mazarin had thought that by skilfully dividing the magistracy he
would prevent all troubles, but his cunning was met with inflexibility.
He withdrew four years’ salary from all the higher courts, at the same
time remitting the _paulette_; that is to say, exempting the judges
from paying the tax devised by Paulet under Henry IV for assuring the
magistrates the permanency of their posts and permitting them to sell
them. This retrenchment was not an injury, but he did not withdraw
the four years’ salary from parliament, thinking to disarm it by this
favour. But parliament scorned this mark of grace which exposed it to
the reproach of preferring its interests to those of the others; and it
did not hesitate to issue an _arrêt d’union_ with the other courts of
justice. Mazarin, who was never able to pronounce French, having said
that this _arrêt d’ognon_ was an attacking measure, and having had it
vetoed by the council, this single word _ognon_ made him ridiculous, and
as one never yields to one that is scorned, parliament became more active.
[Illustration: THE ARREST OF BROUSSEL]
It loudly demanded that all the intendants regarded by the people as
extortioners should be recalled, and that the new kind of magistracy
instituted under Louis XIII, without the procedure of ordinary forms,
should be abolished. This was to please the nation as much as to irritate
the court. It desired that, according to the ancient law, no citizen
should be put in prison without his natural judges knowing of it within
twenty-four hours.
Parliament did more; it abolished the intendants by a decree with orders
to the king’s prosecutors in its jurisdiction to inform against them.
Thus the hatred of the ministry, supported by the love of the public
weal, threatened the court with a revolution. The queen yielded; she
abandoned the intendants and asked only that three be retained. In this
she was refused. While these troubles were brewing the prince of Condé
won the famous victory at Lens, which crowned his glory. The king, who
was only ten years old, exclaimed, “Parliament will be very sorry!”
These words make it sufficiently evident that the court looked upon the
parliament of Paris as an assembly of rebels. Indeed, the cardinal and
his courtiers gave it no other name. But the more the parliamentarians
were treated as rebels the more resistance they made.[i]
This state of affairs between ruling power and the parliament expressing
the feelings of the people brings us to that remarkable revolt known as
the Fronde, “the last echo of the civil wars of the sixteenth century.”
“The origin of the name,” says Martin,[d] “seems to have been the
comparison made between the young and turbulent _conseillers aux
enquêtes_ and the urchins who gathered in the city ditches to indulge in
mimic fights with slings (_frondes_). The malcontents adopted the name
of _frondeurs_, and longed for the glory of ‘slinging the court well’
(_bien fronder la cour_). The first to adopt this title of _frondeur_
was, it is said, the councillor Bachaumont, son of the president Le
Coigneux.” Kitchin[q] says that the name of the Fronde was first adopted
by the coadjutor to the archbishop of Paris, Paul de Gondi, of whom
we shall presently speak. “The young lords and dames,” says Crowe,[g]
“who afterwards embraced the party, willingly adopted a name which so
well characterised their petulance, and sportive rather than serious
rebellion.” But the Fronde, sportive though it may have been to the
nobles, was the cause of immense misery to the people. Famine and pest
walked in its train and the country was enormously depopulated.[a]
FIRST INSURRECTION OF THE FRONDE (1648 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1648 A.D.]]
The queen and the cardinal resolved to arrest three of the most stubborn
magistrates of the parliament: Novion Blancménil president of a court of
justice, Charton president of a court of inquiry, and Broussel former
councillor-clerk of the grand chamber. They were the tools of party
leaders and not leaders themselves. Charton, a man of very limited
abilities, was known by the nickname of “I say this,” because he always
opened and closed his remarks with those words. Broussel had nothing
to recommend him but his white hairs, his hatred for the ministry, and
a reputation for always raising his voice against the court no matter
on what subject. His confrères paid little attention to him, but the
populace idolised him.
Instead of arresting them without any hubbub in the silence of the night,
the cardinal thought to impress the people by having them arrested in
broad daylight, on August 26th, 1648, while the _Te Deum_ was being
sung at Notre Dame for the victory of Lens and the Swiss of the chamber
were carrying into the church the seventy-three banners taken from the
enemy. It was precisely this plan that caused the ruin of the kingdom.
Charton escaped, Blancménil was taken without difficulty, but it was not
the same with Broussel. An old servant, seeing her master thrown into a
coach by Comminges, a lieutenant of the bodyguard, collected a mob. It
surrounded the coach, which was smashed to pieces; but the French guards
lent assistance to Comminges and got Broussel away from his friends. He
was taken out on the road to Sedan. The arrest, far from intimidating the
people, irritated and emboldened them. Shops were closed. The great iron
chains which at that time were at the entrance to the principal streets
were stretched across them; barricades were built, and four hundred
thousand throats cried “Liberty and Broussel!”[i]
The marshal de la Meilleraie with two hundred guards tried to disperse
them; he drove some back to the Pont Neuf, where his progress was
impeded, and where he met Paul de Gondi, coadjutor of the archbishop of
Paris, so famous later under the name of Cardinal de Retz, who had rushed
out in his robes amongst the mob. After having harangued and momentarily
tranquillised the populace, De Retz hurried with the marshal to the
Palais Royal, to represent the alarming state of the city to the queen.
Anne of Austria, who knew the coadjutor’s character, suspected him as
one more likely to throw oil than water on the flame. “It is rebellion
itself to imagine that the people can rebel,” said she; “you would have
me deliver Broussel; I will first strangle him with these hands.” This
resentment, seconded by the jeers of the court, had the ill effect of
converting De Retz into a dangerous enemy.[g]
_The Day of the Barricades (August 27th, 1648)_
It is difficult to reconcile all the details of what followed, related
by Cardinal de Retz,[j] Madame de Motteville,[k] Advocate-General Talon,
and many others; but all agree upon the principal points. During the
night which followed the riot the queen had about two thousand troopers,
quartered a few leagues from Paris, come into the city to protect the
king’s residence. The chancellor Séguier had already proceeded to the
parliament accompanied by a lieutenant and several archers to quash all
its decrees and even, it is said, to suspend that body.
But during that very night the factionists assembled at the house of De
Retz, and everything was arranged to arm the city. The chancellor’s coach
was stopped and overturned. He escaped with difficulty, with his daughter
the duchess de Sully, who in spite of him had insisted on accompanying
him. He retired in disorder into the hôtel de Luynes, jostled and
insulted by the populace. The civil lieutenant now took him into his
coach, and escorted by two Swiss companies and a squadron of gendarmes
attempted to bring him to the Palais Royal. The people fired on them;
several were killed and the duchess de Sully was wounded in the arm.
Two hundred barricades were formed in an instant; they were pushed to
within a hundred paces of the Palais Royal. The soldiers, after seeing
several of their number fall, retreated and looked to see what the
bourgeois were going to do. The parliament marched on foot in a body
to the queen, across the barricades which were lowered before it, and
demanded the liberation of its imprisoned members. The queen was obliged
to set them free.[i]
The barricades were immediately levelled, and the people ceased their
turbulence and clamour. “Never was disorder more orderly managed,” says
Madame de Motteville;[k] “the citizens who had taken up arms to prevent
the ascendency of the rabble and to check pillage were little more
peaceable than the populace itself, and roared for the liberation of
Broussel with equal violence.” The court in yielding had but temporised,
however; and it soon made its escape from the capital to St. Germain.
Such was the first insurrection of the Fronde.[g]
Cardinal de Retz has boasted of having all by himself armed the whole of
Paris on that day (August 27th, 1648), which has been called the “Day
of the Barricades” and which was the second of its kind. This singular
man is the first bishop of France to plan a civil war without religion
for a pretext. He has described himself in his _Mémoires_,[j] written
in a grandiose manner with the impetuosity of genius and an unevenness
which are the mirror of his conduct. He was a man who, from the depths of
debauchery and the infamous consequences which it brings, preached to the
people and made them idolise him. He breathed faction and conspiracy; he
had been at the age of twenty-three the soul of a conspiracy against the
life of Richelieu; he was the author of the barricades; he precipitated
parliament into cabals and the people into seditions. His extreme vanity
made him undertake bold crimes in order that they might be talked about.
It was this same vanity that made him repeat so often, “I am of a house
of Florence as ancient as that of the greatest princes”[101]--he whose
ancestors had been merchants like so many of his compatriots.[i]
[Illustration: A FRENCH OFFICER, MIDDLE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY]
The hopes of the queen were now in the young prince of Condé. But that
young hero, though opposed to the party of the _importants_, was not
yet prepared to martyrise his popularity for Mazarin. He proposed his
mediation. Mazarin accepted it, well knowing how soon the hot prince
would lose patience at the formal and democratic pleadings of the
parliamentary statesmen. De Retz, now the leading man of the popular
party, made every effort to gain Condé, who replied, “My name is Louis
de Bourbon: I will not shake the throne.” Through his means negotiations
were entered into with the court; the elders of the parliament, and
Molé, the president, at their head, being anxious to avoid a civil war,
whilst the violent party, bestowing on the pacific chiefs the nickname
of _barbons_, pushed matters to extremities. They had revived an old
law, passed after the fall of the marshal D’Ancre, which prohibited the
administration of the kingdom by foreigners, thus aiming at Mazarin.
Still a second accommodation took place: a royal declaration, dated the
28th of October [the very day of the signing of the Peace of Westphalia],
accepted the principal articles of the plan of reformation, and the court
returned to the capital.
[Sidenote: [1648-1649 A.D.]]
This proved but a hollow truce, entered into by both parties out of
respect for Condé, whom both feared and both hoped to gain. The popular
party was suspicious; De Retz continued his intrigues; whilst the queen
urged Condé to make preparations for defending the royal authority by
force. It has been the fate of all attempts to establish liberty in
France to be frustrated, not by the opposition of the aristocracy, but by
their affecting to abet and adopt its principles.
In the Fronde, the magistracy of Paris, supported by the citizens,
endeavoured to supply the want of a national assembly. They framed a
constitution; forced it on the court without effusion of blood; and might
have succeeded in upholding and perhaps ameliorating it, when the young
noblesse interfered, drove the citizens to insurrection first, then
to submission, and for the sake of their selfish quarrels, which all
their light-heartedness and valour cannot redeem, they sacrificed the
last hope that the French had of even a degree of liberty; they pierced
the last plank that shut out the overwhelming ocean of despotism. We
certainly, of the present day, can look but with a small degree of hope
or approbation on a judicial body which grasps at legislative power. But
had the noblesse known its true interests, and acted its natural part of
mediator, the states-general might have superseded the parliament in its
political functions; the moderation of the provincial deputies would have
tempered the ardour of the capital, and the ever consecutive extremes of
insurrection and pusillanimous submission might both have been avoided.
The old party of the _importants_ now roused itself. The duke de Beaufort
escaped from prison. The duke de Bouillon, smarting under the loss of
Sedan, joined counsels with him; and both intrigued with the violent
men in the parliament to form an insurrection against the court. The
duchess de Longueville brought her charms to support the same cause:
these decided La Rochefoucauld, her lover, to adopt it. She used all her
influence to the same effect with her brother Condé in vain. In default
of him, the prince of Conti, his brother, was won over. No cause could
subsist, in the opinion of these gentlemen, unless it could boast the
name of a prince of the blood. The duchess de Chevreuse, though still in
exile, corresponded with the party, and promised to it the accession of
the princes of Lorraine. Madame de Montbazon was found united in the same
cause with her rival, Madame de Longueville. The marshal D’Hocquincourt
offered the strong and important fortress which he commanded, in homage
to the charms of the former. “Péronne,” wrote he to her, “is at the
disposal of the fairest of the fair.” A crowd of nobles gaily joined the
conspiracy; and the court was once more obliged to make its escape from
Paris, and retire to St. Germain, in January 1649.[102]
Strong and extreme measures were at last resolved upon, although not
prepared with that vigour and foresight that Richelieu would have
displayed. Troops, under Condé and the duke of Orleans, prepared to
invest Paris, and occupied on either side of the city the bridges of
Charenton and St. Cloud; but with only 12,000 men, the utmost of the
royalist force, it was impossible to invest the metropolis. A royal
order, commanding the parliament to retire to Montargis, was treated by
them with contempt. A civic guard was raised, to the number of 12,000,
the chief officers, it is remarkable, being lawyers and officers of
parliament; the provost of the merchants, however, retained the supreme
command. In addition to these, a stipendiary force of 20,000 men was
raised in a few days, by means of a house tax, fixed at so much for
every plain house-door, and double the sum for the gate which admitted
a carriage. The noblesse did not forget their petty ambition, even in
adopting the bourgeois cause. The duke d’Elbeuf had first seized on the
chief command, and was reluctant to yield it to the prince of Conti.
The duke de Beaufort, however, was the most popular chief, owing to his
affable manners and handsome person. He was called the _roi des halles_
(the king of the markets). The war, if it can be called such, commenced
by the attack of the Bastille, at which the ladies of the party assisted.
It surrendered gallantly to these fascinating adversaries. On his side,
Condé began to press towards the walls; and some skirmishes took place,
in which a few were slain, amongst others the duke de Châtillon.
Two circumstances soon after occurred that much altered the views and
shook the resolutions of the court. One was the defection of Turenne,
who, won over by his brother the duke de Bouillon, promised to march the
army, which he commanded on the Rhine, to the support of the Fronde;
the other was the connection of the _frondeur_ nobles with Spain, and
the public reception by the parliament of an envoy from that power.
This savoured of the inveteracy of the league. The elder magistrates,
and principally Molé the president, indignant at this alliance with
the enemies of the country, began to exert themselves to frustrate the
violent projects of the young noblesse, and to seek an accommodation
with the court. The majority of the parliament, already disgusted with
the froward, frivolous, and arrogant behaviour of the nobles, came so
far into the same views, that Molé himself, with some of his brethren,
was despatched to the queen at Ruel, to essay an accommodation. The
court grasped at the opportunity, but still negotiated for advantages;
whilst Bouillon stirred the populace of Paris against the moderation of
the parliament, and urged the alliance with Spain. Molé, determined to
disappoint the ambitious duke, signed a treaty with the court in haste,
on the 11th of March, ere Turenne could arrive, or Spain despatch its aid.
Great was the indignation of the populace, and of the seditious
leaders, at the news of this peace. All cried out treason. Bouillon was
confounded, and De Retz perplexed. Molé knew that he risked his life by
thus balking the seditious ardour of both the nobles and the mob; but the
thought gave him courage, not hesitation. The critical moment was that
of declaring the treaty to the assembled parliament. A ferocious crowd,
crying “Treason! no peace! no Mazarin!” surrounded the Palais de Justice;
and the throng within its walls was scarcely less hostile or less
calm. Molé stood up and read the treaty; clamour instantly covered his
voice. The prince of Conti exclaimed against a peace concluded without
his knowledge, and that of the nobles his friends. “You, then, are the
cause,” retorted Molé: “whilst we were at Ruel, you were treating with
the enemies of France; you were inviting the archduke, the Spaniard, and
the foe to invade the kingdom.” “It is not without the consent of several
members of the parliament that we took this step,” replied the prince,
not denying the charge. “Name them,” was Molé’s instant retort; “name the
traitors, that we may proceed to try and judge them.”
The firmness of the president at once awed the nobles, and won over
the majority of the assembled magistrates to support him. The only
hope of the favourers of sedition was in the rabble, which, incensed
and tumultuous, had penetrated into the passages and corridors of
the palace. Some, with poniards and arms, demanded the head of the
president. “Give us up the _grande barbe_” (long beard); so they called
the venerable magistrate. Others shouted the word “Republic.” Molé heard
them with unshaken courage. Those around besought him to make his escape
by a postern. “Justice never skulks,” replied Molé, “nor will I, its
representative. I may perish, but will never commit an act of cowardice,
which would give hardihood to the mob.” Accordant to this magnanimous
resolution, the chief magistrate walked boldly down the principal
staircase through the mob, awing the most audacious by his firmness.
Even De Retz[j] was lost in admiration; and has recorded that he could
perceive in the countenance of Molé, then threatened by the fury of the
multitude, not a motion that did not indicate imperturbable firmness, and
at the same time a presence and elevation of mind greater than firmness,
and every way supernatural. This is one of the noblest exhibitions of
courage which history has recorded.
[Illustration: FRENCH MAN-OF-WAR, TIME OF LOUIS XIV]
When the chiefs of sedition saw that they could not conquer, and that
the treaty would pass in their despite, each hastened to make his
private offers and demands of the court. Bouillon wanted Sedan; Turenne,
Alsace; Elbeuf, the government of Picardy; Beaufort, to be admiral. They
were not listened to. Angered and resolved to proceed to extremities,
they wrote to Turenne to advance, and to the archduke to invade the
north. But Turenne’s treason was defeated by Erlach, commander of the
Swiss--himself obliged to fly; and the archduke, his support failing,
retreated. Thus the moderate portion of the parliament, supported by the
civic guard, succeeded in restoring peace with the court, despite the
opposition of the nobles and the mob. The reader will not fail to remark
how distinct these several classes kept from each other, even when in
alliance and fighting the same battles; a state of society that has not
ceased at the present day to characterise France: whilst in England, the
blending of the lower ranks of the nobly born with the higher ranks of
the industrious and unennobled, effected by the habits and institutions
of the country, have rendered the pernicious line of demarcation betwixt
castes and classes almost invisible to the historian.
SECOND ACT OF THE FRONDE; ARREST OF CONDÉ
[Sidenote: [1649-1650 A.D.]]
The scene now shifts, and another act of the Fronde commences, displaying
the chief actors in altogether new characters and dresses. No sooner was
the peace declared than the prince of Condé, jealous of the cardinal,
united with the nobles whom he so lately combated: he visited his sister,
Madame de Longueville, became reconciled to her and to La Rochefoucauld;
the duke de Beaufort and the coadjutor being the only two that remained
at the same time hostile to Mazarin and jealous of Condé. A few nobles,
however, were not sufficient to give weight to the demands of the prince,
and Mazarin resisted them. The prince, in consequence, saw the coadjutor,
and planned, or pretended to form, an alliance with him and the violent
members of the parliament. The court, terrified at the prospect of being
so abandoned, and of seeing Condé at the head of the frondeurs, granted
all the desires of the latter, who, ashamed to break with his new allies,
yet left without a pretext to continue his quarrel with Mazarin, “changed
his mind three hundred times in three days.” The haughty prince, who
hated the parliament and the rabble, at last decided to disappoint the
coadjutor; he became reconciled to Mazarin, and of course quarrelled with
the frondeurs, whom he accused of an attempt to assassinate him. The
same imprudence, the same haughtiness, petulance, and overbearing temper
marked the prince to whichever side he leaned, and disgusted both. As a
friend he was even more troublesome than as an enemy: Mazarin and the
queen felt this; they could no longer tolerate his insolence; and the
present moment, as he had left himself no friends in any party, seemed
the best opportunity for being revenged on him.
To arrest and send the prince to prison was the old monarchic mode
of treating the froward; but one of the articles stipulated by the
parliament, and secured to them in the last treaty, was that every
prisoner should be interrogated in four-and-twenty hours, and delivered
over to his lawful judges. To infringe upon this law might rouse the
parliament, and re-excite the rebellion of the Parisians. To secure
himself against such an event, Mazarin leagued with--whom? The coadjutor
himself, and the most violent of the frondeurs! They, the populace
sharing their sentiments, hated Condé for his ancient enmity and his late
desertion. De Retz and Mazarin, accordingly, had interviews, the former
entering the Palais Royal by night in disguise. The consequence of this
secret understanding soon appeared. The prince of Condé, the prince of
Conti, his brother, and the duke de Longueville were arrested at the
door of the council-chamber, and sent to Vincennes in January, 1650. The
dukes de Bouillon and de la Rochefoucauld, as well as the duchess de
Longueville, succeeded in escaping; the princesses of Condé were ordered
to retire to Chantilly. Bonfires, illuminations, and every sign of joy on
the part of the Parisians marked this extreme measure. The popular hatred
of Condé and confidence in De Retz lulled for the moment their dislike of
the cardinal Mazarin.
Two events which mark the spirit of the time, and which occurred previous
to the prince’s arrest, must not be passed over. The honour of a
_tabouret_, or stool at court, was only granted to the ladies of princes
of sovereign houses, or to the wives of dukes and peers. Exceptions,
however, had been made in favour of the younger branches of the Rohans,
the La Trémouilles, and the family of Bouillon. La Rochefoucauld
pretended to the same distinction: the prince of Condé supported his
claim. The noblesse instantly assembled to the number of eight hundred,
and formed a protest against such pretensions, which went, they said,
to destroy the natural equality that existed amongst all gently born.
The dispute led to a discussion of political rights and principles,
then the dangerous mania of the age, and some voices clamoured for the
states-general. The French noblesse are entitled certainly to the credit
of having demanded these national assemblies at a time when the judicial
body or parliament, in whom the favour and confidence of the people were
then centred, deprecated any such proposition. It may be asked why the
chiefs of the judicature, and such upright lovers of liberty as Molé,
were opposed to the convocation of the states-general. The answer is that
the example of England, then in the mouths and minds of many, terrified
them, and made them prefer their own body as a constitutional check,
to such a representative assembly as that which, in the neighbouring
kingdom, had begun with civil war, and ended in regicide and despotism.
It must be owned they had some cause for fear. A revolution is bad
enough; but an imitative revolution, a parody of such a great event,
is to be deprecated tenfold, as incurring all the evils and few of the
advantages of the convulsion.
Already the people of Paris talked of republics and liberty: the
monarchy, they said, was too old, and it was time it should expire. Nay,
the duke de Bouillon himself, adopting the revolutionary phrase, proposed
on one occasion to purge the parliament. The taste for assembling and
debating was general. The annuities charged on the Hôtel-de-Ville were
suspended by the troubles: three thousand of these fund-holders, chiefly
citizens of Paris, met, drew up resolutions, petitioned, and clothed
themselves in black, the uniform of the tiers or third estate. Molé
instantly rebuked them, as attempting to form a _chambre de communes_, a
house of commons. The citizens were indignant at the comparison: and this
very reproach, that they were imitating the commons of England, had great
effect in dissipating their assembly.
RESISTANCE OF BORDEAUX (1650 A.D.)
Principles, however, were soon forgotten in the general sympathy which
the misfortunes of Condé excited. The haughtiness, the imprudences of
the hero of Rocroi and Lens were now forgotten; and the nobility began
to rally to his cause as their own. The court were at first successful
in reducing Normandy, the government of the duke de Longueville; but in
Languedoc and the provinces on the Gironde, the dukes de la Rochefoucauld
and de Bouillon soon gathered an army of adherents, and were joined by
the wife and infant son of the prince.