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Makers of History
Louis XIV.
BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT
WITH ENGRAVINGS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
1904
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
Copyright, 1898, by LAURA A. BUCK.
[Illustration: LOUIS XIV.]
PREFACE
We all live a double life: the external life which the world sees, and
the internal life of hopes and fears, joys and griefs, temptations and
sins, which the world sees not, and of which it knows but little. None
lead this double life more emphatically than those who are seated upon
thrones.
Though this historic sketch contains allusions to all the most
important events in the reign of Louis XIV., it has been the main
object of the writer to develop the inner life of the palace; to lead
the reader into the interior of the Louvre, the Tuileries, Versailles,
and Marly, and to exhibit the monarch as a man, in the details of
domestic privacy.
This can more easily be done in reference to Louis XIV. than any other
king. Very many of the prominent members of his household left their
autobiographies, filled with the minutest incidents of every-day life.
It is impossible to give any correct idea of the life of this proud
monarch without allusion to the corruption in the midst of which he
spent his days. Still, the writer, while faithful to fact, has
endeavored so to describe these scenes that any father can safely read
the narrative aloud to his family.
There are few chapters in history more replete with horrors than that
which records the "Revocation of the Edict of Nantes." The facts given
are beyond all possibility of contradiction. In the contemplation of
these scenes the mind pauses, bewildered by the reflection forced upon
it, that many of the actors in these fiend-like outrages were inspired
by motives akin to sincerity and conscientiousness.
The thoughtful reader will perceive that in this long and wicked reign
Louis XIV. was sowing the wind from which his descendants reaped the
whirlwind. It was the despotism of Louis XIV. and of Louis XV. which
ushered in that most sublime of all earthly dramas, the French
Revolution.
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
New Haven, Conn., 1870.
CONTENTS.
Chapter Page
I. BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD 13
II. THE BOY-KING 49
III. MATRIMONIAL PROJECTS 86
IV. THE MARRIAGE OF THE KING 121
V. FESTIVITIES OF THE COURT 159
VI. DEATH IN THE PALACE 194
VII. THE WAR IN HOLLAND 234
VIII. MADAME DE MAINTENON 268
IX. THE REVOCATION OF THE EDICT OF NANTES 302
X. THE SECRET MARRIAGE 330
XI. INTRIGUES AND WARS 359
XII. LAST DAYS OF LOUIS XIV. 384
ENGRAVINGS.
Page
LOUIS XIV. _Frontispiece._
THE CASTLE OF BLOIS 18
PALACE OF ST. GERMAIN-EN-LAYE 23
THE PALAIS ROYAL 31
PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG 52
THE TUILERIES 74
THE CASTLE OF VINCENNES 79
PALACE OF CHANTILLY 98
VIEW OF FONTAINEBLEAU 103
ISLE OF PHEASANTS 129
THE LOUVRE AND THE TUILERIES 139
PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 145
CHATEAU MAZARIN 157
CHATEAU DE VAUX 176
CONVENT OF VAL DE GRACE 198
THE PALACE OF ST. CLOUD 201
INTERIOR OF ST. DENIS 208
ST. DENIS 236
PORTE ST. DENIS 254
MADAME DE MAINTENON 273
PALACE OF VERSAILLES 297
PARTERRE OF VERSAILLES 324
RACINE AND BOILEAU 339
THE TRIANON 351
MARLY 354
LOUIS XIV. DIRECTING THE SIEGE 362
FRONT VIEW OF ST. GERMAIN 376
ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE DEATH OF LOUIS XIV. 409
LOUIS XIV.
CHAPTER I.
BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD.
1615-1650
Marriage of Louis XIII.--Character of Louis XIII.--Character of
Anne of Austria.--Cardinal Richelieu.--The Duke of Buckingham.--His
death.--Estrangement of the king and queen.--Joy of the nation.--Birth
of Louis XIV.--Gift of the Pope.--Condition of Paris.--Reconciliation
of the king and queen.--Orders of Louis XIII. respecting the
dauphin.--Ill health of Louis XIII.--The dauphin declared King Louis
XIV.--Last hours of Louis XIII.--Death of Louis XIII.--Louis
XIV. recognized king.--Palais Royal.--Apartments of the queen
regent.--Educational arrangements for Louis XIV.--Speech of Louis
at five years old.--Dislikes the change of teachers.--Interest in
history.--Mazarin's wicked policy.--Henrietta, queen of Charles
I.--Figure and bearing of the king.--His first campaign.--The
cardinal's nieces.--Anecdote.--Feud between Mazarin and the
Parliament.--Alarm of Mazarin.--Escape of the royal family from
Paris.--Flight of the court.--Discomfort of the court at St.
Germain.--Excitement in Paris.--Issue of a parliamentary
decree.--Origin of the names Fronde and Mazarins.--Two rival
courts.--Straw scarce.--Character of Mazarin.--Termination of the
war.--Society reversed.
Louis XIII. of France married Anne of Austria on the 25th of November,
1615. The marriage ceremony was performed with great splendor in the
Cathedral of Bordeaux. The bride was exceedingly beautiful, tall, and
of exquisite proportions. She possessed the whitest and most delicate
hand that ever made an imperious gesture. Her eyes were of matchless
beauty, easily dilated, and of extraordinary transparency. Her small
and ruddy mouth looked like an opening rose-bud. Long and silky hair,
of a lovely shade of auburn, gave to the face it surrounded the
sparkling complexion of a blonde, and the animation of a brunette.[A]
[Footnote A: Louis XIV. et son Siecle.]
The marriage was not a happy one. Louis XIII. was not a man of any
mental or physical attractions. He was cruel, petulant, and jealous.
The king had a younger brother, Gaston, duke of Anjou. He was a young
man of joyous spirits, social, frank, a universal favorite. His moody,
taciturn brother did not love him. Anne did. She could not but enjoy
his society. Wounded by the coldness and neglect of her husband, it is
said that she was not unwilling, by rather a free exhibition of the
fascinations of her person and her mind, to win the admiration of
Gaston. She hoped thus to inspire the king with a more just
appreciation of her merits.
Louis XIII., at the time of his marriage, was a mere boy fourteen
years of age. His father had died when he was nine years old. He was
left under the care of his mother, Mary de Medicis, as regent. Anne of
Austria was a maturely developed and precocious child of eleven years
when she gave her hand to the boy-king of France. Not much discretion
could have been expected of two such children, exposed to the
idleness, the splendors, and the corruption of a court.
Anne was vain of her beauty, naturally coquettish, and very romantic
in her views of life. It is said that the queen dowager, wishing to
prevent Anne from gaining much influence over the mind of the king,
did all she could to lure her into flirtations and gallantries, which
alienated her from her husband. For this purpose she placed near her
person Madame Chevreuse, an intriguing woman, alike renowned for wit,
beauty, and unscrupulousness.
Quite a desperate flirtation arose between Anne and little Gaston, who
was but nine years of age. Gaston, whom the folly of the times
entitled Duke of Anjou, hated Louis, and delighted to excite his
jealousy and anger by his open and secret manifestation of love for
the beautiful Anne. The king's health failed. He became increasingly
languid, morose, emaciate. Anne, young as she was, was physically a
fully developed woman of voluptuous beauty. The undisguised alienation
which existed between her and the king encouraged other courtiers of
eminent rank to court her smiles.
Cardinal Richelieu, notwithstanding his ecclesiastical vows, became
not only the admirer, but the lover of the queen, addressing her in
the most impassioned words of endearment. Thus years of intrigue and
domestic wretchedness passed away until 1624. The queen had then been
married nine years, and was twenty years of age. She had no children.
The reckless, hot-headed George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, visited
the French court to arrange terms of marriage between Henrietta Maria,
sister of Louis XIII., and the Prince of Wales, son of James I. of
England. He was what is called a splendid man, of noble bearing, and
of chivalric devotion to the fair. The duke, boundlessly rich,
displayed great magnificence in Paris. He danced with the queen,
fascinated her by his openly avowed admiration, and won such smiles in
return as to induce the king and Cardinal Richelieu almost to gnash
their teeth with rage.
This flirtation, if we may not express it by a more emphatic phrase,
created much heart-burning and wretchedness, criminations and
recriminations, in the regal palace. In August, 1628, the Duke of
Buckingham, then in England, terminated his wretched and guilty life.
He fell beneath the dagger of an assassin. Anne, disdaining all
dissimulation, wept openly, and, secluding herself from the gayeties
of the court, surrendered herself to grief.
A mutual spirit of defiance existed between the king and queen. Both
were wretched. Such are always the wages of sin. Ten more joyless
years passed away. The rupture between the royal pair was such that
they could scarcely endure each other. Louis himself was the first to
inform the queen of the news so satisfactory to him, so heart-rending
to her, that a dagger had pierced the heart of Buckingham. After this
they met only at unfrequent intervals. All confidence and sympathy
were at an end. It was a bitter disappointment to the queen that she
had no children. Upon the death of the king, who was in very feeble
health, her own position and influence would depend almost entirely
upon her having a son to whom the crown would descend. Louis resided
generally at the Castle of Blois. Anne held her court at the Louvre.
A married life of twenty-two years had passed away, and still the
queen had no child. Both she and her husband had relinquished all hope
of offspring. On the evening of the 5th of December, 1637, the king,
having made a visit to the Convent of the Visitation, being overtaken
by a storm, drove to the Louvre instead of Blois. He immediately
proceeded to the apartments of the queen. Anne was astonished, and did
not disguise her astonishment at seeing him. He, however, remained
until the morrow.
[Illustration: THE CASTLE OF BLOIS.]
Soon after this, to the inexpressible joy of the queen, it appeared
that she was to become a mother. The public announcement of the fact
created surprise and joy throughout the nation. The king was equally
astonished and delighted. He immediately hastened to the Louvre to
offer the queen his congratulations.
The queen repaired to St. Germain-en-Laye, about six miles from
Versailles, to await the birth of her child. Here she occupied, in
the royal palace, the gorgeous apartments in which Henry IV. had
formerly dwelt. The king himself also took up his abode in the palace.
The excitement was so great that St. Germain was crowded with the
nobility, who had flocked to the place in anxious expectancy of the
great event. Others, who could not be accommodated at St. Germain,
stationed couriers on the road to obtain the earliest intelligence of
the result.
On the 5th of September, 1638, the king was greeted with the joyful
tidings of the birth of a son. A vast crowd had assembled in front of
the palace. The king, in the exuberance of his delight, took the child
from the nurse, and, stepping out upon a balcony, exhibited him to the
crowd, exclaiming, "A son! gentlemen, a son!"
The announcement was received with a universal shout of joy. The happy
father then took the babe into an adjoining apartment, where the
bishops were assembled to perform the ordinance of baptism. These
dignitaries of the Church had been kneeling around a temporary altar
praying for the queen. The Bishop of Meaux performed the ceremony. A
Te Deum was then chanted in the chapel of the castle. Immediately
after this, the king wrote an autograph letter to the corporation of
Paris, announcing the joyful tidings. A courier was dispatched with
the document at his highest possible speed.
The enthusiasm excited in the capital surpassed any thing which had
ever before been witnessed. The common people, the nobles, the
ecclesiastics, and the foreign embassadors, vied with each other in
their demonstrations of joy. A few months after, in July, an
extraordinary messenger arrived from the pope, to convey to the august
mother and her child the blessing of the holy father. He also
presented the queen, for her babe, swaddling-clothes which had been
blessed by his holiness. These garments were exceedingly rich with
gold and silver embroidery. They were inclosed in a couple of chests
of red velvet, and elicited the admiration of the royal pair.
The France of that day was very different from that magnificent empire
which now stands in intellectual culture, arts, and arms, prominent
among the nations of the globe. The country was split up into hostile
factions, over which haughty nobles ruled. The roads in the rural
districts were almost impassable. Paris itself was a small and dirty
city, with scarcely any police regulations, and infested with robbers.
There were no lamps to light the city by night. The streets were
narrow, ill paved, and choked with mud and refuse. Immediately after
nightfall these dark and crooked thoroughfares were thronged with
robbers and assassins, whose depredations were of the most audacious
kind.
Socially, morally, and intellectually, France was at the lowest ebb.
The masses of the people were in a degraded condition of squalid
poverty and debasement. Still the king, by enormous taxation,
succeeded in wresting from his wretched subjects an income to meet the
expenses of his court, amounting to about four millions of our money.
But the outlays were so enormous that even this income was quite
unavailing, and innumerable measures of extortion were adopted to meet
the deficit.
The king was so much gratified by the birth of a dauphin that for a
time he became quite reconciled to his beautiful and haughty queen.
Two years after the birth of the dauphin, on the 21st of September,
1640, Anne gave birth to a second son, who took the title of Philip,
duke of Anjou. The queen and her two children resided in the
beautiful palace of Saint Germain-en-Laye, where the princes were
born.
A company of French Guards, commanded by Captain Montigni, protected
the castle. Madame de Lausac was the governess of the two children.
The title by which the king's brother was usually designated was
simply Monsieur. But for these children of the king, the crown, upon
the death of the monarch, would descend immediately to Monsieur, the
king's brother. The morals of the times were such that the king was
ever apprehensive that some harm might come to the children through
the intrigues of his brother. Monsieur lived in Paris. The king left
orders with Madame de Lausac that, should his brother visit the queen,
the officers of the household should immediately surround the dauphin
for his protection, and that Monsieur should not be permitted to enter
the palace should he be accompanied by more than three persons.
[Illustration: PALACE OF SAINT GERMAIN-EN-LAYE.]
To Montigni, the captain of the guard, the king gave half of a gold
coin, of which he retained the other half. Montigni was commanded to
watch over the persons of the princes with the utmost vigilance.
Should he receive an order to remove them, or to transfer them to
other hands, he was enjoined not to obey that order, even should it be
in the handwriting of his majesty himself, unless he at the same time
received the other half of the broken coin.
The king, as we have mentioned, had been for some time in feeble
health. Early in the spring of 1643 he became seriously ill. The
symptoms were so alarming as to lead the king, as well as his friends,
to think that death could not be far distant. There are few men so
hardened as to be able to contemplate without some degree of anxiety
death and the final judgment. The king was alarmed. He betook himself
to prayer and to the scrupulous discharge of his religious duties.
In preparation for the great change, he repaired to Saint Germain to
invest the queen with the regency when he should die. His brother,
Monsieur, who had taken the title of the Duke of Orleans, and all the
leading nobles of the court, were present. The king, pale, emaciate,
and with death staring him in the face, was bolstered in his bed. Anne
of Austria stood weeping by his side. She did not love her
husband--she did love power; but the scene was so solemn and so
affecting as to force tears into all eyes. The dauphin was then four
and a half years old. He was declared king, with the title of Louis
XIV., under the regency of his mother until he should attain his
majority.
The next day, April 21st, the christening of the dauphin with his new
title took place with great state in the chapel of the palace. After
the celebration of the rite, the dauphin was carried into the chamber
of his dying father, and seated upon the bed by his side. The poor
king, dying in the prime of life, was oppressed with the profoundest
melancholy. There was nothing in the memory of the past to give him
pleasure; nothing in the future to inspire him with well-grounded
hope. Turning to the little prince, who had just been christened with
the royal title, he inquired,
"What is your name, my child?"
"Louis XIV.," the dauphin promptly replied.
"Not yet," said the king, sadly, shaking his head; "but pray God that
it may soon be so."
A few more days of sickness and suffering passed away, during which it
was almost hourly expected that the king would die. Death often comes
to the palace invested with terrors unknown in the cottage. Beneath
his sceptre all gradations and conditions of rank disappear. The
sufferings of the king were such that he longed for release.
On the 13th of May, as the shades of evening were gathering around his
dying bed, he anxiously inquired of his physicians if it were possible
that he could live until morning. They consulted together, and then
informed him that they did not think it possible.
"God be praised!" the king replied. "I think it is now time that I
should take leave of all whom I love."
The royal household was immediately assembled around the couch of the
dying monarch. He had sufficient strength to throw his arms around the
neck of the queen, and to press her tenderly to his heart. In such an
hour past differences are forgotten. In low and broken tones of voice,
the king addressed the queen in a few parting words of endearment.
The dauphin was then placed in his arms. Silently, but with tearful
eyes, he pressed his thin and parched lips to both cheeks and to the
brow of the child, who was too young to comprehend the solemn import
of the scene.
His brother, Monsieur, the duke of Orleans, the king had never loved.
In these later years he had regarded him with implacable hostility.
But, subdued by the influences of death, he bade that brother an
eternal adieu, with even fond caresses. Indeed, he had become so far
reconciled to Monsieur that he had appointed him lieutenant general of
the kingdom, under the regency of Anne of Austria, during the minority
of the dauphin.
Several of the higher ecclesiastics were present, who had assisted in
preparing him to die. He affectionately embraced them all, and then
requested the Bishop of Meaux to read the service for the dying. While
it was being read he sank into a lethargy, and never spoke again. He
died in the forty-second year of his age, after a reign of
thirty-three years, having ascended the throne when but nine years
old.
Immediately after the death of the king, Anne of Austria held a
private interview with Monsieur, in which they agreed to co-operate in
the maintenance of each other's authority. The Parliament promptly
recognized the queen as regent, and the Duke of Orleans as lieutenant
general, during the minority of the dauphin.
The Duke de Grammont, one of the highest nobles of France, and a
distinguished member of the court of Louis XIII., had a son, the Count
de Guiche, a few months older than the dauphin. This child was
educated as the play-fellow and the companion in study of the young
king. One of the first acts of Anne of Austria was to assemble the
leading bodies of the realm to take the oath of allegiance to her son.
The little fellow, four and a half years old, arrayed in imperial
robes, was seated upon the throne. The Count de Guiche, a very sedate,
thoughtful, precocious child, was placed upon the steps, that his
undoubted propriety of behavior might be a pattern to the infant king.
Both of the children behaved remarkably well.
Soon after this, at the close of the year 1643, the queen, with her
household, who had resided during the summer in the palace of the
Louvre, took up her residence in what was then called the Cardinal
Palace. This magnificent building, which had been reared at an
enormous expense, had been bequeathed by the Cardinal Richelieu to the
young king. But it was suggested that it was not decorous that the
king should inhabit a mansion which bore the name of the residence of
a subject. Therefore the inscription of _Cardinal Palace_ was effaced
from above the doorway, and that of _Palais Royal_ placed in its
stead. The palace had cost the cardinal a sum nearly equal to a
million of dollars. This ungrateful disregard of the memory of the
cardinal greatly displeased his surviving friends, and called forth
earnest remonstrance. But all expostulations were in vain. From that
day to this the renowned mansion has been known only as the "Palais
Royal." The opposite engraving shows the palace as left by the
cardinal. Since his day the building has been greatly enlarged by
extending the wings for shops around the whole inclosure of the
garden.
Louis XIV. was at this time five years old. The apartments which had
been occupied by Richelieu were assigned to the dauphin. His mother,
the queen regent, selected for herself rooms far more spacious and
elegant. Though they were furnished and embellished with apparently
every appliance of luxury, Anne, fond of power and display, expended
enormous sums in adapting them to her taste. The cabinet of the
regent, in the gorgeousness of its adornments, was considered the
wonder of Paris.
[Illustration: THE PALAIS ROYAL.]
Cardinal Mazarin had also a suite of rooms assigned him in the palace
which looked out upon the Rue des bons Enfans. These households
were quite distinct, and they were all surrounded with much of the
pageantry of royalty. The superintendence of the education of the
young prince was intrusted to the cardinal. He had also his governor,
his sub-governor, his preceptor, and his valet de chambre, each of
whom must have occupied posts of honor rather than of responsibility.
The Marchioness de Senecey, and other ladies of high rank, were
intrusted with the special care of the dauphin until he should attain
the age of seven years.
Thus the court of the baby-king was quite imposing. From his earliest
years he was accustomed to the profoundest homage, and was trained to
the most rigid rules of etiquette. The dauphin early developed a
fondness for military exercises. Very eagerly he shouldered the
musket, brandished the sword, and beat the drum. The temperament of
his brother Philip, the duke of Anjou, was very different: he was
remarkably gentle, quiet, and affectionate. Gradually the baby-court
of the dauphin was increased by the addition of other lads. The young
king was the central luminary around whom they all revolved. By them
all the dauphin was regarded with a certain kind of awe, as if he
were a being of a superior, almost of a celestial race. These lads
were termed "children of honor." They always addressed the king, and
were addressed in return, with the formality of full-grown men. One
day a little fellow named Lomenie delighted the king with a gift. The
king was amusing himself with a cross-bow, which for the time being
happened to be in special favor. He loaned the bow for a few moments
to Lomenie. Soon, however, anxious to regain the valued plaything, he
held out his hand to take it back. His governess, the Marchioness de
Senecey, said to him, aside,
"Sire, kings give what they lend."
Louis, immediately approaching his companion, said, calmly, "Monsieur
de Lomenie, keep the cross-bow. I wish that it were something of more
importance; but, such as it is, I give it to you with all my heart."
This was a speech of a boy of five years old to a companion of the
same age. When the dauphin reached his seventh birthday, a great
change took place in his household. All his female attendants were
withdrawn, and he was placed exclusively under the charge of men. It
is said that this change was at first the occasion of much grief to
him. He had become much attached to many of the ladies, who had
devoted themselves to the promotion of his happiness. We are told that
he was greatly chagrined to find that none of the gentlemen of his
court could tell him any of those beautiful fairy tales with which the
ladies had often lulled him to sleep. In conference with the queen
upon the subject, it was decided that M. Laporte, his first valet de
chambre, should read to him every night a chapter of a very popular
history of France. The dauphin soon became greatly interested in the
narrative. He declared that he, when he grew up, would be a
Charlemagne, a St. Louis, a Francis First, and expressed great
abhorrence of the tyrannical and slothful kings.
The pleasure which the little king took in these historical readings
daily increased. Cardinal Mazarin accidentally found out what was
going on, and was greatly displeased. He was anxious that the
intellectual powers of the king should not be developed, for the
cardinal desired to grasp the reins of government with his own hands.
To do this, it was necessary that the king should be kept ignorant,
and should be incited only to enervating indulgence.
Scornfully the cardinal remarked, "I presume the governor of the king
must put on his shoes and stockings, as I perceive his valet de
chambre is teaching him history."
The young king entertained an instinctive aversion to the proud
cardinal, who assumed imperial airs, and who was living in splendor
far surpassing that of the regent or of the child-king. Those who
surrounded the prince were equally inimical to the cardinal-minister,
who, in that age of superstition and fanaticism, had attained such
power that the regent herself stood in awe of him.
Henrietta, queen of England, wife of the unfortunate Charles I., was a
daughter of Henry IV., and sister of Louis XIII. She was consequently
aunt to the dauphin. The troubles in England, which soon led to the
beheading of the king her husband, rendered it necessary for her to
escape to France. Her brother, Monsieur, duke of Orleans, went to the
coast to receive his unhappy and royal sister. As they approached
Paris, the queen regent and her son the king rode out to meet them.
Henrietta took a seat in the same carriage with their majesties, and
returned with them to the Louvre. The pallid cheeks and saddened
features of the English queen proclaimed so loudly the woes with
which she was stricken as to exert universal sympathy.
The young king at seven years of age was tall, muscular, and excelled
in all physical exercises; but the villainous cardinal had endeavored
in every way to dwarf his intellect, so that his mind remained almost
a blank. Both the young king and his brother at this early age had
acquired a very remarkable degree of courtly grace. A chronicler of
the times, speaking of the bearing of Louis at a court wedding, says,
"The king, with the gracefulness which shines in all his actions, took
the hand of the Queen of Poland, and conducted her to the platform,
where his majesty opened the dance, and was followed by nearly all the
princes, princesses, great nobles, and ladies of the court. At its
termination, the king, with the same grace and majestic deportment,
conducted the young queen to her place. The king then danced a second
time, and led out the Duke of Anjou with such skill that every one was
charmed with the polite bearing of these two young princes."
Early in the year 1646, the king, not yet quite eight years old, was
conducted upon what was singularly called his first campaign. The
queen and her son repaired to Amiens, where they sojourned for a short
time with the army, and established a very brilliant court. When the
army left Amiens for Flanders, the regent and her son returned from
their campaign.
The infant court of the monarch was now established at Paris. The
ambitious cardinal had brought from Italy several little children, his
relatives, the eldest of whom had attained but her twelfth year. They
were immediately introduced to the court of Louis XIV. The wealth of
the cardinal was such, and his influence so great, that, young as
these his nieces were, they were instantly surrounded by admirers. The
Duke of Orleans, who hated the cardinal and all that belonged to him,
bitterly remarked,
"There is such a throng about those little girls that I doubt if their
lives are safe, and if they will not be suffocated."
The boy-king, however, notwithstanding his dislike for the cardinal,
received the little girls with that gallantry for which throughout
life he was distinguished.
Very early he began to develop quite a positive character. On one
occasion the courtiers were speaking in his presence of the absolute
power exercised by the sultans of Turkey. Several very striking
examples were given. The young prince, who had listened attentively,
remarked,
"That is as it should be; that is really reigning."
"Yes, sire," pertinently replied Marshal d'Estrees, "but two or three
of those sultans have, within my memory, been strangled."
The Prince de Conde inquired of Laporte, the first valet of the king,
respecting the character his young majesty was developing. Upon being
told that he was conscientious and intelligent, he replied, "So much
the better. There would be no pleasure in obeying a fool, and no honor
in being commanded by a bad man."
Cardinal Mazarin, the prime minister, who looked with jealousy upon
any development of superior intelligence in the dauphin, said to
Marshal de Grammont, "Ah! sir, you do not know his majesty. There is
enough stuff in him to make four kings and an honest man."
There had gradually sprung up a deadly feud between the court, headed
by the tyrannical minister Mazarin on the one side, and by the
Parliament on the other. The populace of Paris were in sympathy with
the Parliament. Many of the prominent nobles, some even of royal
blood, detesting the haughty prime minister, espoused the
Parliamentary cause. There were riots in Paris. Affairs looked very
threatening. Mazarin was alarmed, and decided to escape from Paris
with the court to the palace of St. Germain. There he could protect
the court with an ample military force. He thought, also, that he
should be able to cut off the supply of provisions from the capital,
and thus starve the city into subjection.
It was necessary to move with much caution, as the people were greatly
agitated, were filling the streets with surging crowds, and would
certainly prevent the removal of the king should they suspect the
design. The night of the 5th of January was selected as a time in
which to attempt the escape. The matter was kept profoundly secret
from most of the members of the royal household.
At three o'clock in the morning a carriage was drawn up in the gate of
the royal garden. The queen regent, who, to avoid suspicion, had
retired to bed at the usual hour, had in the mean time risen and was
prepared for her flight. The young king and his brother were awoke
from their sleep, hurriedly dressed, and conveyed to the carriage in
waiting. The queen regent, with several other prominent members of the
court, descended the back stairs which led from the queen's apartment
and joined the children. Immediately one or two other carriages drove
up, and the whole party entered them, and by different routes, through
the dark and narrow streets, left the city. It was a short ride of
about twelve miles.
Other prominent members of the court, residing in different parts of
the city, had been apprised of the movement, so that at five o'clock
in the morning twenty carriages, containing one hundred and fifty
persons, drove into the court-yard of the palace. One of the ladies
who accompanied the expedition, Mademoiselle Montpensier, gives the
following graphic description of the scene:
"When we arrived at St. Germain we went straight to the chapel to hear
mass. All the rest of the day was spent in questioning those who
arrived as to what they were doing in Paris. The drums were beating
all over the city, and the citizens had taken up arms. The Countess
de Fiesque sent me a coach, and a mattress, and a little linen. As I
was in so sorry a condition, I went to seek help at the Chateau Neuf,
where _Monsieur and Madame_ were lodged; but Madame had not her
clothes any more than myself. Nothing could be more laughable than
this disorder. I lodged in a large room, well painted and gilded, with
but little fire, which is not agreeable in the month of January. My
mattress was laid upon the floor, and my sister, who had no bed, slept
with me. Judge if I were agreeably situated for a person who had slept
but little the previous night, with sore throat and violent cold.
"Fortunately for me, the beds of Monsieur and Madame arrived. Monsieur
had the kindness to give me the room which he vacated. As I was in the
apartment of Monsieur, where no one knew that I was lodged, I was
awoke by a noise. I drew back my curtain, and was much astonished to
find my chamber quite filled by men in large buff skin collars, who
appeared surprised to see me, and who knew me as little as I knew
them.
"I had no change of linen, and my day chemise was washed during the
night. I had no women to arrange my hair and dress me, which is very
inconvenient. I ate with Monsieur, who keeps a very bad table. Still I
did not lose my gayety, and Monsieur was in admiration at my making no
complaint. It is true I am a creature who can make the best of every
thing, and am greatly above trifles. I remained in this state ten
days, at the end of which time my equipage arrived, and I was very
glad to have all my comforts. I then went to lodge in the chateau
Vieux, where the queen was residing."[B]
[Footnote B: There were at that time two palaces at St. Germain. The
old palace, originally built by Charles V., and in the alteration of
which Louis XIV. spent over a million of dollars, still remains. The
new palace, constructed by Henry IV. about a quarter of a mile from
the other, is now in ruins.]
At a very early hour in the morning the news was circulated through
the streets of Paris that the court had fled from the city, taking
with it the young king. The excitement was terrible, creating
universal shouts and tumults. All who were in any way connected with
the court attempted to escape in various disguises to join the royal
party. The populace, on the other hand, closed the gates, and
barricaded the streets, to prevent their flight. In the midst of this
confusion, a letter was received by the municipal magistrates, over
the signature of the boy-king, stating that he had been compelled to
leave the capital to prevent the seizure of his person by the
Parliament, and urging the magistrates to do all in their power for
the preservation of order and for the protection of property. The king
also ordered the Parliament immediately to retire from the city to
Montargis.
The Parliament refused to recognize the order, declaring "that it did
not emanate from the monarch himself, but from the evil counselors by
whom he was held in captivity." Upon the reception of this reply, the
queen regent, who had surrounded her palace at St. Germain with a
thousand royal troops, acting under the guidance of Mazarin, issued a
decree forbidding the villages around Paris sending into the capital
either bread, wine, or cattle. Troops were also stationed to cut off
such supplies. This attempt to subdue the people by the terrors of
famine excited intense exasperation. A decree was promptly issued by
the Parliament stating,
"Since Cardinal Mazarin is notoriously the author of the present
troubles, the Parliament declares him to be the disturber of the
public peace, the enemy of the king and the state, and orders him to
retire from the court in the course of this day, and in eight days
more from the kingdom. Should he neglect to do this, at the expiration
of the appointed time all the subjects of the king are called upon to
hunt him down."
At the same time, men-at-arms were levied in sufficient numbers to
escort safely into the city all those who would bring in provisions.
The Parliament, from the populace of Paris, could bring sixty thousand
bayonets upon any field of battle. Thus very serious civil war was
inaugurated.
As we have mentioned, many of the nobles, some of whom were allied to
the royal family, assuming that they were not contending against their
legitimate sovereign, the young king, but against the detested
Mazarin, were in cordial co-operation with the Parliament. The people
in the rural districts were also in sympathy with the party in Paris.
The court party was now called "The _Mazarins_," and those of the
Parliament "The _Fronde_." The literal meaning of the word fronde is
sling. It is a boy's plaything, and when skillfully used, an
important weapon of war. It was with the sling that David slew
Goliath. During the Middle Ages this was the usual weapon of the foot
soldiers. Mazarin had contemptuously remarked that the Parliament were
like school boys, _fronding in the ditches_, and who ran away at the
approach of a policeman. The Parliament accepted the title, and
adopted the _fronde_ or _sling_ as the emblem of their party.
There were now two rival courts in France. The one at St. Germain was
in a state of great destitution. The palace was but partially
furnished, and not at all capable of affording comfortable
accommodations for the crowd which thronged its apartments. Nothing
could be obtained from Paris. Their purses were empty. The rural
population was hostile, and, while eager to carry their products to
Paris, were unwilling to bring them to St. Germain. Madame de
Motteville states in her memoirs "that the king, queen, and cardinal
were sleeping upon straw, which soon became so scarce that it could
not be obtained for money."
The court of the Fronde was assembled at the Hotel de Ville in Paris.
There all was splendor, abundance, festive enjoyment. The high rank
of the leaders and the beauty of the ladies gave eclat to the
gathering.
Cardinal Mazarin was not only extortionate, but miserly. He had
accumulated an enormous property. All this was seized and appropriated
by the Fronde. Though there were occasional skirmishes between the
forces of the two factions, neither of them seemed disposed to plunge
into the horrors of civil war.
The king sent a herald, clad in complete armor and accompanied by two
trumpeters, to the Parliament. The Fronde refused to receive the
herald, but decided to send a deputation to the king to ascertain what
overtures he was willing to make. After a lengthy conference a not
very satisfactory compromise was agreed upon, and the royal fugitives
returned to Paris. It was the 5th of April, 1650. A Te Deum was
chanted with great pomp at the cathedral of Notre Dame.
"Thus terminated the first act of the most singular, bootless, and, we
are almost tempted to add, burlesque war which, in all probability,
Europe ever witnessed. Throughout its whole duration society appeared
to have been smitten with some moral hallucination. Kings and
cardinals slept on mattresses, princesses and duchesses on straw.
Market-women embraced princes, prelates governed armies, court ladies
led the mob, and the mob, in its turn, ruled the city."[C]
[Footnote C: Louis XIV. and the Court of France, vol. i., p, 262.]