THE BOY-KING.
1650-1653
M. de Retz.--Fears of Mazarin.--Escape of the cardinal.--Dangers
of civil war.--Alarm and energy of De Retz.--The populace
aroused.--Palace of the Luxembourg.--Discovery of the attempted flight
of the royal family.--Haughty reply of Anne of Austria.--Courage of
the queen mother.--Respectful conduct of the populace.--Fortitude of
the regent.--The queen regent dissembles.--Vigilance of
Monsieur.--Cardinal Mazarin in exile.--Majority of the dauphin
attained.--Imposing ceremony.--Appearance of Louis XIV.--Address of
Louis.--Address of the queen regent.--Reply of Louis.--Power of the
King of France.--Gallantry of Louis.--Influence of Anne and Mazarin
upon Louis.--Conflict between the court and Parliament.--Mazarin
arrives in France.--Civil war inaugurated.--Mazarin's army
defeated.--Depression of the regent.--_Monsieur._--Ludicrous quarrel
of Louis and his brother.--Embarrassment of the court.--Conflict at
Etampes.--Destitution of Louis XIV.--Scenes of the conflict at
Etampes.--Retreat of Conde.--Battle at St. Antoine.--Cardinal Mazarin
forced to retire.--The king invited to return.--The Duke of Orleans
retires to Blois.--Doom of the leaders of the Fronde.--Respectful
refusal of De Retz.--Orders for his arrest.--Treachery of Anne of
Austria.--Arrest of De Retz.--Return of Mazarin.--First care of
Mazarin.--Festivities at court.--Approaching coronation.--Paucity of
notabilities at the coronation.--The king repairs to Stenay.--Louis in
the trenches.--Defeat of Conde.
The reconciliation between the court and the Fronde was very
superficial. The old antagonism soon reappeared, and daily grew more
rancorous. To add to the embarrassment of the court, _Monsieur_, the
duke of Orleans, became alienated from Mazarin, and seemed inclined to
join the Fronde. The most formidable antagonist of the cardinal in the
Parliament was M. de Retz. He was coadjutor of the Archbishop of
Paris, a man of consummate address and great powers of eloquence.
The struggle between De Retz and Mazarin soon became one of life and
death. The coadjutor was at length imboldened to offer a decree in
Parliament urging the king to banish from his presence and his
councils Cardinal Mazarin. This measure threw the court into
consternation. The cardinal was apprehensive of arrest. Some of his
friends urged him to retire immediately to a fortress. Others
proposed to garrison the Palais Royal and its neighborhood with an
efficient guard.
From the saloons of the palace the shouts were heard of the excited
populace swarming through the streets. No one could tell to what
extremes of violence they might proceed. Warned by these hostile
demonstrations, the cardinal decided to escape from Paris. At ten
o'clock at night he took leave of the queen regent, hastened to his
apartments, exchanged his ecclesiastical costume for a dress in which
he was entirely disguised, and on foot threaded the dark streets to
escape from the city. Two of his friends accompanied him. At the
Richelieu Gate they took horses, which were awaiting them there, and
in two hours alighted at the palace of St. Germain.
M. de Retz, through his spies, was immediately informed of the flight
of the cardinal. He at once hastened to communicate the intelligence
to _Monsieur_. The duke at first could not credit the statement, as he
felt assured that Mazarin would not have left without taking the young
king with him. Should the cardinal, in his retreat, gain possession of
the king, in whose name he would issue all his orders, it would be
hardly possible to avoid the horrors of a desolating civil war. All
minds in Paris, from the highest to the lowest, were thrown into a
state of the most intense excitement.
On the night of the second day after the cardinal's flight, M. de Retz
was awakened by a messenger, who informed him that the Duke of Orleans
was anxious to see him immediately at the palace of the Luxembourg.
The coadjutor rose, hastily dressed, and in great anxiety repaired to
the palace. The duke, though lieutenant general of the kingdom, was a
very timid man, and exceedingly inefficient in action. As they entered
the chamber of the duke, he listlessly said to M. de Retz,
"It is just as you said. The king is about to leave Paris; what shall
we do? I do not see what can be done to prevent it."
The resolute coadjutor replied, "We must immediately take possession
of the city gates."
But the inert and weak duke brought forward sundry silly excuses. He
had not sufficient force of character or moral courage to commit
himself to any decisive course of action. The only measure he could be
induced to adopt was to send a message to the queen regent, imploring
her to reflect upon the consequences which would inevitably result
from the removal of the king from Paris. In the mean time, the
resolute and fearless coadjutor sent his emissaries in all directions.
The populace were aroused with the cry that Mazarin was about to carry
off the king. The gates of the city were seized. Mounted patrols
traversed the streets urging the citizens to arms. An enormous crowd
of excited men and women rushed toward the Palais Royal.
[Illustration: PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG.]
The carriages were, in fact, at that hour, at the appointed rendezvous
for the midnight flight of the king and his attendants. The young
monarch was already in his traveling dress, just about to descend the
stairs of the palace, when the queen was apprised, by the tumult in
the streets, that the design was discovered, and that consequently its
execution was impracticable.
With the utmost precipitancy, the traveling dress of the king was
removed, and he was robed in his night garments, replaced in bed, and
urged to feign that he was asleep. Scarcely was this accomplished ere
one of the officers of the household entered and announced to the
queen that the exasperated mob was threatening the palace, insisting
upon seeing the king, that they might satisfy themselves that he had
not been carried away. While he was speaking, another messenger
entered with the announcement that the mob had already proceeded to
violence, and were tearing down the palisades of the palace. While he
was yet speaking, a messenger from the Duke of Orleans arrived,
imploring the queen regent not to attempt the removal of the king, and
assuring her that it was impossible to do so, since the citizens were
resolved to prevent it.
The queen, with dignity, listened to all. To the messenger of the Duke
of Orleans she haughtily replied,
"Say to the duke that he, instigated by the coadjutor, has caused this
tumult, and that he has power to allay it. That nothing can be more
unfounded than the idea that there has been any design to remove the
king. That both his majesty and his brother, the Duke of Anjou, are
asleep in their beds, as I myself had been until the uproar in the
streets had caused me to rise." To satisfy the messenger, M. de
Souches, she led him into the chamber of the king, and showed him his
majesty apparently soundly asleep.
As they were softly retiring from the room, the outcry of the populace
filling the court-yard was heard shouting "The king! the king! we must
see the king." The queen regent hesitated for a moment, and then, with
wonderful presence of mind, and with moral and physical courage rarely
equaled, turning to the envoy of _Monsieur_, said,
"Say to the people that the doors of the palace shall be immediately
thrown open, and that every one who wishes may enter the chamber of
the king. But inform them that his majesty is asleep, and request them
to be as quiet as is possible."
M. Souches obeyed. The doors were opened. The mob rushed in.
Nevertheless, contrary to all expectation, they had no sooner reached
the royal apartment than their leaders, remembering that their king
was sleeping, desired the untimely visitors to proceed in perfect
quiet. As the human tide moved onward, their very breathing was
suppressed. They trod the floor with softest footsteps. The same
tumultuous multitude that had howled, and yelled, and threatened
outside the gates, now, in the chamber of the sovereign, became calm,
respectful, and silent. They approached the royal bed with a feeling
of affectionate deference, which restrained every intruder from
drawing back the curtains.
The queen herself performed this office. She stood at the pillow of
her son, beautiful in features, of queenly grace in form and stature.
Pale, calm, and dignified as though she were performing some ordinary
court ceremonial, she gathered back the folds of the velvet drapery,
and revealed to the gaze of the people their young sovereign in all
the beauty of youth, and apparently in profound slumber.
This living stream of men and women from the streets of Paris
continued to flow through the chamber until three o'clock in the
morning, entering at one door and passing out at its opposite.
Through this trying scene the queen never faltered.
"Like a marble statue," writes Miss Pardoe, "she retained her
position, firm and motionless, her majestic figure drawn haughtily to
its full height, and her magnificent arm resting in broad relief upon
the crimson draperies. And still the boy-king, emulating the example
of his royal parent, remained immobile, with closed eyes and steady
breathing, as though his rest had remained unbroken by the incursion
of his rebellious subjects. It was a singular and marked passage in
the life of both mother and son."[D]
[Footnote D: Louis XIV. and the Court of France, vol. i., page 351.]
In those days and at that court falsehood was deemed an indispensable
part of diplomacy. In the afternoon of the same day in which the scene
we have described occurred, the queen assembled in her saloon in the
palace the prominent magistrates of the city. With firm voice and
undaunted eye, she assured them that she had never entertained the
slightest idea of removing his majesty from the city. She enjoined it
upon them vigilantly to continue to guard the gates, that the populace
might be convinced that no design of escape was cherished. Her words
were not believed; her directions were obeyed. The gates were rigidly
closed. Thus the king was a prisoner.
The apprehensions of the Fronde, that by some stratagem the king might
be removed, were so great that _Monsieur_ dispatched a gentleman of
his household every night to ascertain if the king were quietly in his
bed. The messenger, M. Desbuches, carried a nightly greeting to the
queen, with orders not to leave the Palais Royal without seeing the
young sovereign. The excuse for this intrusion was, that _Monsieur_
could not, without this evidence, satisfy the excited citizens that
the king was safe. This was a terrible humiliation to the queen
regent.
Cardinal Mazarin, having passed the night at St. Germain, commenced
traveling by slow stages toward Havre. He was expecting every hour to
be joined by the queen regent and other members of the royal
household. He was, however, overtaken by a courier, who announced to
him what had transpired in Paris, and that the escape of the royal
family was impossible. The cardinal thus found himself really in
exile, and earnest endeavors were made by the Fronde to induce the
queen regent to secure a cardinal's hat for M. de Retz, and make him
her prime minister. The last act of the queen regent was the issuing
of a decree that Mazarin was banished forever from the kingdom.
Such was the posture of affairs when, on the 5th of September, 1651,
the minority of the dauphin ceased. He now entered upon his fourteenth
year, and, immature boy as he was, was declared to be the absolute
monarch of France.
It was immediately announced to the Parliament by the grand master of
ceremonies that on the seventh day of the month the king would hold
his bed of justice. This name was given to the throne which the king
took at extraordinary meetings of Parliament. The bed, or couch, was
furnished with five cushions, and stood under a gorgeous canopy. Upon
this couch the king extended himself, leaning upon the cushions.
The ceremony was attended with all the pomp which the wealth and taste
of the empire could create. As, in the morning, the court left the
Palais Royal, a band of trumpeters led the van, causing the air to
resound with their bugle peals. These were followed by a troop of
light-horse, succeeded by two hundred of the highest nobility of
France, splendidly mounted and in dazzling array. But it is vain to
attempt to describe the gorgeous procession of dignitaries, mounted on
tall war-horses, caparisoned with housings embroidered with silver and
gold, and accompanied by numerous retainers. The attire of these
attendants, from the most haughty man of arms to the humblest page,
was as varied, picturesque, and glittering as human ingenuity could
devise.
The young king himself rode upon a magnificent cream-colored charger.
He was a beautiful boy, well formed and tall for his age. Apparently
deeply impressed with the grandeur of the occasion, he appeared calm
and dignified to a degree which attracted the admiration of every
beholder. As he sat gracefully upon his horse, he appeared almost like
a golden statue, for his dress was so elaborately embroidered with
gold that neither its material or its color could be distinguished.
His high-mettled charger became frightened by the shouts of "Long live
the king" which burst so enthusiastically from the lips of the crowd.
But Louis managed the animal with so much skill and self-possession
as to increase the admiration with which all seemed to regard him.
After attending mass, the young monarch took his seat in the
Parliament. Here the boy of thirteen, covering his head, while all the
notabilities of France stood before him with heads uncovered, repeated
the following words:
"GENTLEMEN,--I have attended my Parliament in order to inform you
that, according to the law of my kingdom, I shall myself assume its
government. I trust that, by the goodness of God, it will be with
piety and justice. My chancellor will inform you more particularly of
my intentions."
The chancellor then made a long address. At its conclusion the queen
mother rose and said to her son:
"SIRE,--This is the ninth year in which, by the last will of the
deceased king, my much honored lord, I have been intrusted with the
care of your education and the government of the state. God having by
his will blessed my endeavors, and preserved your person, which is so
precious to your subjects, now that the law of the kingdom calls you
to the rule of this monarchy, I transfer to you, with great
satisfaction, the power which had been granted me to govern. I trust
that God will aid you with his strength and wisdom, that your reign
may be prosperous."
To this the king replied, "I thank you, madame, for the care which it
has pleased you to take of my education and the administration of my
kingdom. I pray you to continue to me your good advice, and desire
that, after myself, you should be the head of my council."
The mother and the son embraced each other, and then resumed their
conspicuous seats on the platform. The king's brother, Philip, duke of
Anjou, next rose, and, sinking upon his knee, took the oath of
allegiance to his royal brother. He was followed in this act by all
the civil and ecclesiastical notabilities. The royal procession
returned to the gates of the Palais Royal, greeted apparently by the
unanimous acclamations of the people.
Thus a stripling, who had just completed his thirteenth year, was
accepted by the nobles and by the populace as the absolute and
untrammeled sovereign of France. He held in his hands, virtually
unrestrained by constitution or court, their liberties, their
fortunes, and their lives. It is often said that every nation has as
good a government as it deserves. In republican America, it seems
incredible that a nation of twenty millions of people could have been
guilty of the folly of surrendering themselves to the sway of a pert,
weak, immature boy of thirteen years.
The young king, in those early years, was celebrated for his
gallantry. A bevy of young beauties, from the most illustrious
families in the realm, crowded his court. The matter of the marriage
of the king was deemed of very great moment. According to the
etiquette of the times, it was thought necessary that he should marry
a lady of royal blood. It would have been esteemed a degradation for
him to select the daughter of the highest noble, unless that noble
were of the royal family. But these pretty girls were not unconscious
of the power of their charms. The haughty Anne of Austria was
constantly harassed by the flirtations in which the young king was
continually engaging with these lovely maidens of the court.
Louis by nature, and still more by education, was egotistical,
haughty, and overbearing. His brother Philip, on the contrary, was
gentle, retiring, and effeminate. The young king wished to be the
handsomest man of his court, the most brilliant in wit, and the most
fascinating in the graces of social life. He was very jealous of any
one of his companions who might be regarded as his rival in personal
beauty, or in any intellectual or courtly accomplishment. His mother
encouraged this feeling. She desired that her son should stand in his
court without a peer.
Still Anne of Austria, in conjunction with Cardinal Mazarin, had done
what she could to check the intellectual growth of her son. Wishing to
retain power as long as possible, they had manifested no disposition
to withdraw young Louis from the frivolities of childhood. His
education had been grossly neglected. Though entirely familiar with
the routine of his devotional exercises, and all the punctilios of
court etiquette, he was in mental culture and general intelligence far
below ordinary school-boys of his age.
Though the king was nominally the absolute ruler of France, still
there were outside influences which exerted over him a great control.
There is no such thing as independent power. All are creatures of
circumstances. There were two antagonistic forces brought to bear upon
the young king. Anne of Austria for nine years had been regent. With
the aid of her prime minister, Cardinal Mazarin, she had governed the
realm. This power could not at once and entirely pass from their hands
to the ignorant boy who was dallying with the little beauties in the
saloons of the Palais Royal. Though Mazarin was in exile--an exile to
which the queen regent had been compelled to assent--still he retained
her confidence, and an influence over her mind.
On the other hand, there was the Parliament, composed mainly of proud,
haughty, powerful nobles, the highest dignitaries of Church and State.
This body was under the leadership of the coadjutor, M. de Retz. The
antagonism between the Parliament and the court was by no means
appeased. The great conflict now rose, which continued through months
and years, between them, as to which should obtain the control of the
king. Impelled by the action of the Parliament, the king had applied
to the pope for a cardinal's hat to be conferred upon M. de Retz. This
dignity attained would immeasurably increase the power of the
coadjutor.
In the mean time, Cardinal Mazarin, who had fled to Spain, had
re-entered France with an army of six thousand men. Paris was thrown
into a state of great agitation. Parliament was immediately assembled.
The king sent them a message requesting the Parliament not to regard
the movements of the cardinal with any anxiety, "since the intentions
of his eminence were well known by the court." This, of course,
increased rather than diminished the fears of the nobles.
Notwithstanding the message of the king, a decree was immediately
passed declaring the cardinal and his adherents disturbers of the
public peace. The cardinal was outlawed. A sum equal to thirty
thousand dollars, the proceeds of the sale of some property of the
cardinal, was offered to any one who should deliver him either dead or
alive. Unintimidated, Mazarin continued his march toward Paris,
arriving at Poictiers at the end of January, one month after having
re-entered France. The king, the queen regent, and the whole court
advanced there to meet him. They received him with the greatest
demonstrations of joy.
When the news reached the capital that Mazarin had thus triumphantly
returned, Parliament and the populace were thrown into a state of
great excitement. The Duke of Orleans was roused as never before. The
hostile demonstrations in Paris became so alarming, that the royal
family adopted the bold resolve to return immediately to the capital.
The king commenced his march at the head of the troops of the
cardinal. When he reached Blois, he tarried there for a couple of days
to concentrate his forces. Civil war was now inaugurated, though on
rather a petty scale, between the hostile forces in various parts of
the kingdom. The Prince of Conde was the prominent leader of the
Parliamentary troops.
The city of Blois is situated on the right bank of the River Loire,
about forty-five miles below the city of Orleans, which is also on the
northern side of the same stream. At Blois, the court learned to its
consternation that the Mazarin army had been attacked at Orleans by
the Prince de Conde and utterly routed, with the loss of many
prisoners, nearly three thousand horses, and a large part of its
ordnance stores. The royal party, which was at this time in a state of
great destitution, was quite overwhelmed by the disaster. The queen
ordered all the equipages and baggage to be transported to the south
side of the Loire, and the bridge to be broken down. At midnight, in
the midst of a scene of great terror and confusion, this movement was
accomplished. As the morning dawned, the carriages, crowded with the
ladies of the court, were seen on the left bank of the stream, ready
for flight. The queen was, for the only time in her life, so dejected
as to seem utterly in despair. She feared that the triumph of the
Fronde at Orleans would induce every city in the kingdom to close its
gates against the court.
The royal fugitives retreated to Montereau. In the disorder of the
flight they were exposed to great privation. Even the young king lost
several of his best horses. Thence they proceeded to Corbeil, on the
right bank of the Seine, about twelve leagues from Versailles. Here a
scene occurred which is graphically described by M. Laporte, an
eye-witness, who was a prominent attendant of his majesty.
"The king," writes Laporte, "insisted that _Monsieur_[E] should sleep
in his room, which was so small that but one person could pass at a
time. In the morning, as they lay awake, the king inadvertently spat
upon the bed of _Monsieur_, who immediately spat upon the king's bed
in return. Thereupon Louis, getting angry, spat in his brother's face.
When they could spit no longer, they proceeded to drag each other's
sheets upon the floor, after which they prepared to fight. During this
quarrel I did what I could to restrain the king. As I could not
succeed, I sent for M. de Villeroi, who re-established peace.
_Monsieur_ lost his temper sooner than the king, but the king was much
more difficult to appease."
[Footnote E: As Louis XIV. was now king, his brother Philip, eleven
years of age, according to usage, took the title of _Monsieur_. The
title for a time adhered still to the Duke of Orleans, brother of
Louis XIII.]
It is very evident that aristocratic titles, and all the formalities
of court etiquette, do not change the nature of boyhood. Though one of
these little belligerents bore the title of Louis XIV., king of
France, and the other was called Monsieur, the duke of Anjou, they
were in character like all other ungoverned and ungovernable boys.
The court, not venturing to enter Paris, pursued its way by a
circuitous route to St. Germain, leaving the city on the left. Here an
additional gloom was cast over their spirits by the intelligence of
very decided acts of hostility manifested against them by the
inhabitants of the metropolis. The court was in a state of great
embarrassment, without any money, and without possibility of obtaining
stores from the capital. It was supposed that Cardinal Mazarin, noted
for his selfishness, had taken good care of himself. But he declared
that he was as poor as the meanest soldier in the ranks.
While at St. Germain, there was another petty conflict between the
Parliamentary forces and those of the court in the vicinity of
Etampes, about forty miles from Versailles. The Fronde was routed with
loss. The glad tidings was brought by a courier at night to St.
Germain. The news was too good to be kept till morning. M. Villeroi,
to whom it was at first communicated, hastened to the chamber of the
king and the Duke of Anjou, to awake them from sleep and inform them
of the victory. They both, Laporte informs us, sprang from their beds,
and rushed, in their slippers, night caps, and dressing-gowns, to the
chamber of the cardinal, whom they awakened with the joyful tidings.
He hurried in his turn with them, and in the same unsophisticated
costume, to the chamber of the queen, to announce the intelligence to
her.
The destitution of Louis XIV. while at St. Germain was such that he
borrowed one hundred and ten francs from Moreau, one of his valets,
for some replenishment of his wardrobe. Subsequently the valet,
learning that the king had obtained possession of one hundred _louis
d'or_, applied for payment of the debt; but the king had already
expended the coin.
The routed troops of Conde took refuge within the walls of Etampes.
The court, in its elation, immediately proceeded from St. Germain to
the scene of conflict, to take part in the siege. This was the first
serious campaign of the young king. As, attended by his suite, he
examined the works, he was at one time under fire, and several bullets
passed near him. Still young as he was, he had sufficient regard for
his reputation and control over himself not to manifest the slightest
fear.
The scenes of war which here presented themselves to the young monarch
were painful in the extreme. He was every where surrounded by sick and
dying soldiers. But he had no money with which to relieve their
misery, and when finally the city of Etampes was taken, the spectacle
of starvation, woe, and death was more awful than words can express.
As the king was entering the city, he passed a group lying upon the
ground, consisting or a mother and three children, huddled closely
together. The mother had died of starvation. Two of the skeleton
children were also dead by her side, and the third, a babe, was
straining at the exhausted breast, which could no longer afford it any
nourishment.
The Prince de Conde retreated to Paris with about three thousand men.
The royal troops, eight thousand in number, pursued. Each party
gathered re-enforcements, so that the Prince de Conde, with about five
thousand men, held at bay the royal troops, then numbering about ten
thousand. The citizens, as we have mentioned, were in sympathy with
the Parliament. They hated Cardinal Mazarin, and with good reason
regarded the king as a prisoner in his hands. The king also detested
Mazarin personally, while the force of circumstances compelled him to
regard the cardinal as the advocate of the royal cause.
A very severe battle was fought between the two parties in the
Faubourg St. Antoine. The ranks of the Fronde, shattered by
overpowering numbers, were, in a disordered retreat, hotly pursued by
their foes under Marshal Turenne. The carnage was dreadful. Suddenly
the cannon of the Bastile flamed out in rapid succession, hurling
their deadly shot through the compact masses of the Royalists. They
recoiled and fled in confusion. Paris was in the hands of the Fronde.
The populace surged through the streets, shouting "Long live the king!
Death to Mazarin!"
The cardinal, taking the king with him, retired to St. Denis. Turenne
re-collected his scattered forces at Pontoise, about twenty miles
north from Versailles. The cardinal, with the king, took refuge at
that place in the centre of Turenne's army. Here the king issued an
ordinance, transferring the Parliament from Paris to Pontoise; but the
Parliament replied "that they could not obey the royal command so long
as Cardinal Mazarin, whom they had outlawed, remained in France." They
also issued an ordinance of their own, forbidding any member of the
Parliament to leave Paris. The king, we know not under what
influences, acquiesced in both of these decrees. This led the cardinal
immediately to tender his resignation and retire. This important step
changed the whole aspect of affairs. After the removal of the
cardinal, all opposition to the court became rebellion against the
king, to whom the Fronde professed entire allegiance.
[Illustration: THE TUILERIES.]
Parliament immediately issued a decree, thanking the king for
banishing the cardinal, and imploring him to return to his good city
of Paris. After some negotiation the king acceded to their wishes, and
on the 17th of October arrived at St. Germain. Here a numerous civic
guard and deputation hastened to greet him, and to conduct him to the
metropolis. On the 20th he proceeded to Ruel, where he passed the
night.
The king decided to enter the city at the head of his army. In order
to render the scene more imposing, it was to take place at night, by
the light of thousands of torches. The spectacle was such as Paris had
rarely witnessed. The fickle people, ever ready to vibrate between the
cry of hosanna and crucify, pealed forth their most enthusiastic
rejoicings. The triumphant boy-king took possession of the Tuileries.
Cardinal de Retz, who had now gained his long-coveted ecclesiastical
distinction, hastened to congratulate the king and his mother upon
their return to the city, from which they had so long been banished.
The Duke of Orleans, chagrined and humiliated, retired to Blois.
The king soon held what was called a bed of justice, in which,
instead of granting a general amnesty, he denounced the princes Conde
and Conti, and other of the prominent leaders of the Fronde, as
traitors to their king, to be punished by death. These doomed ones
were nobles of high rank, vast wealth, with thousands of retainers.
Many throughout the kingdom were in sympathy with them. They would not
die without a struggle. Hence the war, which had hitherto raged
between Mazarin and the Fronde, was renewed between the king and the
Fronde. All over the provinces the hostile forces were rallying
themselves for the conflict.
It was necessary that the Parliament should register this decree of
the king. It did so, but Cardinal de Retz refused to give his vote. He
very respectfully declared to the king that he, having been on
friendly terms and in co-operation with the Prince de Conde, it would
be neither courteous nor just for him to vote his condemnation.
This enraged both the king and his mother. They said it proved that he
was in sympathy with their enemies. The court did not venture at once
to strike down one so formidable. A mission was assigned the cardinal
at Rome, to remove him from the country. He refused to accept it. The
boy-king was growing reckless, passionate, self-willed. He began to
feel the power that was in his hand. The cardinal was warned of his
danger. He smiled, and said "that, sustained by his ecclesiastical
rank, he had nothing to fear."
The court issued an order for the arrest of the cardinal. It was
placed in the hands of Pradelle for execution. But the king was told
that the cardinal would never suffer himself to be arrested without
resistance; that, to secure his seizure, it might be necessary to take
his life. The king seized a pen and wrote at the bottom of the order,
"I have commanded Pradelle to execute the present order on the person
of De Retz, and even to arrest him, dead or alive, in the event of
resistance on his part.
"LOUIS."
It was deemed very important to arrest the cardinal, if possible,
without exciting a popular tumult. The palace of the cardinal was well
guarded. He never went out without a numerous retinue. Should the
populace of Paris see him endangered, they would spring to his rescue.
At length De Retz was earnestly invited to visit the queen at the
Louvre, in token that he was not hostile to the court. It was one of
the most dishonorable of stratagems. The cardinal was caught in the
trap. As he was entering the antechamber of the queen upon this visit
of friendship, all unsuspicious of treachery, the captain of the
guard, who had been stationed there for the purpose with several
gendarmes, seized him, hurried him through the great gallery of the
Louvre, and down the stairs to the door. Here a royal carriage was
awaiting him. He was thrust into the carriage, and five or six
officers took seats by his side. To guard against any possibility of
rescue, a numerous military escort was at hand. The horses were driven
rapidly through the streets, and out through the Porte St. Antoine.
At nine o'clock the cardinal found himself a prisoner at the castle of
Vincennes. The apartment assigned him was cold and dreary, without
furniture and without a bed. Here the prisoner remained a fortnight,
in the middle of December, with no fire.
The arrest of the cardinal created a great sensation throughout Paris.
But the chateau was too strong, and too vigilantly guarded by the
royal troops, to encourage any attempt at a rescue.
[Illustration: THE CASTLE OF VINCENNES.]
In the mean time, Mazarin had placed himself at the head of the royal
troops in one of the provinces, where he gained several unimportant
victories over the bands of the Fronde. These successes were trumpeted
abroad as great achievements, so as to invest the cardinal with the
renown of a great conqueror. Mazarin was well aware of the influence
of military glory upon the populace in Paris. The king also began to
feel the need of his dominant mind. He was invited to return to Paris.
Louis himself rode out six miles beyond the walls to receive him. The
cardinal entered the city in triumph, in the same carriage with his
sovereign, and seated by his side. All the old idols were forgotten,
and the once detested Mazarin was received as though he were an angel
from heaven. Bonfires and illuminations blazed through the streets;
the whole city resounded with demonstrations of rejoicing. Thus
terminated the year 1652.
The first care of Cardinal Mazarin, after his return to Paris, was to
restore the finances, which were in a deplorable condition. Louis was
fond of pleasure. It was one great object of the cardinal to gratify
him in this respect, in every possible way. Notwithstanding the
penury of the court, the cardinal contrived to supply the king with
money. Thus, during the winter, the royal palaces resounded with
festivity and dissipation. The young king became very fond of private
theatricals, in which he, his brother Philip, and the young ladies of
the court took prominent parts. Louis often appeared upon the stage in
the character of a ballet-dancer. He was proud of the grace with which
he could perform the most difficult pirouettes. He had plays written,
with parts expressly composed for his aristocratic troop.
The scene of these masqueradings was the theatre of the Hotel du Petit
Bourbon, which was contiguous to the Louvre. When royalty plays and
courtiers fill pit and gallery, applause is without stint. The
boy-king was much elated with his theatric triumphs. The queen and
Cardinal Mazarin were well pleased to see the king expending his
energies in that direction.
These entertainments cost money, which Mazarin was greatly embarrassed
in obtaining. The hour was approaching for the coronation of Louis.
The pageant would require large sums of money to invest the occasion
with the desirable splendor. But gold was not all that was wanted.
Rank, brilliance, beauty were requisite suitably to impress the
masses of the people. But the civil war had robbed the court of many
of its most attractive ornaments.
Monsieur, the duke of Orleans, was sullenly residing at Blois. Here he
held a somewhat rival court to the king. He refused to attend the
coronation unless certain concessions were granted, to which Mazarin
could not give his consent. Mademoiselle, the duchess of Montpensier,
daughter of Monsieur by his first wife, a young lady of wonderful
heroism and attractions, who possessed an enormous property in her own
right, and who was surrounded by a brilliant court of her own, could
not consistently share in festivities at which her father refused to
appear.
The Prince of Conde, one of the highest nobles of the realm, and who
had many adherents of the most illustrious rank, was in arms against
his king at the head of the Spanish forces, and sentence of death had
been pronounced upon him.
Cardinal de Retz was a prisoner at Vincennes. His numerous followers
in Church and State refused to sanction by their presence any
movements of a court thus persecuting their beloved cardinal.
It was thus impossible to invest the coronation with the splendor
which the occasion seemed to demand.
The coronation took place, however, at Rheims. Cardinal Mazarin
exerted all his ingenuity to render the pageant imposing; but the
absence of so many of the most illustrious of the realm cast an
atmosphere of gloom around the ceremonies.
France was at the time at war with Spain. The Fronde co-operated with
the Spanish troops in the civil war. Immediately after the coronation,
the king, then sixteen years of age, left Rheims to place himself at
the head of the army. He repaired to Stenay, on the Meuse, in the
extreme northeastern frontier of France. This ancient city, protected
by strong fortifications, was held by Conde. The royal troops were
besieging it. The poverty of the treasury was such that Mazarin could
not furnish Louis even with the luxury of a carriage. He traveled on
horseback. He had no table of his own, but shared in that of the
Marquis de Fabert, the general in command.
It seems difficult to account for the fact that the young king was
permitted to enter the trenches, and to engage in skirmishes, where
he was so exposed to the fire of the enemy that the wounded and the
dead were continually falling around him. He displayed much courage on
these occasions.
The Prince of Conde left a garrison in one of the strong fortresses,
and marched with the main body of his troops to Arras. The movements
of the two petty armies, their skirmishes and battles, are no longer
of any interest. The battles were fought and the victories gained by
the direction of the generals Turenne and Fabert. Though the boy-king
displayed intrepidity which secured for him the respect of the
soldiers, he could exert but little influence either in council or on
the field. Both Stenay and Arras were soon taken. The army of the
Prince of Conde was driven from all its positions.
The king returned to Paris to enjoy the gratulation of the populace,
and to offer public thanksgiving in the cathedral of Notre Dame.