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POLITICAL WOMEN.

SUTHERLAND MENZIES,
AUTHOR OF " ROYAL FAVOURITES," ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

Henry S. King & Co.,
65, Cornhill, and 12, Paternoster Rovr, London.
1873.

Bci4- ^ is:

\^A2l riyhts reserved.1

CONTENTS OF VOLUME L

PAET I.
Introduction

PAGE vii

BOOK I.
CHAP. I. — Anne de Bourhon (sister of the Great Oonde) . . . o
II. — The Duchess de LonguevUle . . . 12
III. & IV. — The Duchess de Chevreuse . . . 17,3.')
BOOK IL
ciiAi'. I. —Anne of Austria's Prim'e Minister and his policy . i'd
ir. — The Duchess de Montbazon — Affair of the drojiped letters —
The Quarrel of the rival Duchesses . . . b'6
In. — The Importants . . . . 77
IV. — Conspiracy of the Duchess de Chevreuse and the Duke di'
Beaufort to get rid of Mazarin . . 8:^
v. — Failure of the plot to assassinate Mazarin — Arrest of Beau
fort—Banishment of Madanie de Chevreuse and disper
sion of the /mportemte . . . . . ti9
VI. — Results of the quarrel between the Duchesses — Fatal duel
between the Duke de Guise and Count Maurice de
Coligny .... .... 110

yJ Contents.
BOOK III.
.HAr. I.— The Duchess de Longueville and the Duke de la Rochefou
cauld . . 
II.— La Rochefoucauld draws Madame de LongueviUe into the 131
vortex of politics and civU war 
m.— The Duchess de Chevreuse driven into exile for the third
time .....-••
i\'.— Fatal influence of Madame de Longueville's passion for La
Rochefoucauld— The Fronde  1*^
v.— Madame de Longueville wins over her brother Cond^ to the
Fronde  ... 161
VI. —The causes which led to the coup d'etat— Ihe arrest of the
Princes .  ^^^
Tii. — Madame de Longueville's adventures in Normandy— The
Wo'men's War  1 ' 8
BOOK IV.
cHAi'. I. — The Princess Palatine .... ... 1.S7
ir. — The young Princess de Cond6 conducts the war in the south . 203
III. — State of Parties ou the liberation of the Princes . . . 211
IV. — The Duchesses de LongueviUe and de Chevreuse and the
Princess Palatine iu the last Fronde — Results of the
rupture of the marriage projected between the Prince de
Conti and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse . . . . 221
y. — Conde, urged by his sister, goes unwillingly into rebellion . 257
VI. — Madame de Longueville coquets with the Duke de Nemoui-s . 2C2
BOOK V.
(•¦ii.M'. I. — Conde's adventurous expedition  27.'
ir.—Political and gallant intrigues — The Duchess de ChatiUou's
sway over Coud^ — Shameful conspiracy against Madame
de Longueville  290

INTRODUCTION.

In selecting the careers of certain celebrated women who
have flung themselves with ardour into the vortex of
politics, the author's choice has not been so much an
arbitrary one as it might seem, but rather guided by in
stances in which the adventurous game has not been
restricted to the commonplace contentions of the public
platform, or the private salon, but played on the grandest
scale and on the most conspicuous arena ; when Peace and
War, crowns and dynasties, have trembled in the balance,
and even the fate of a nation has been at stake.
The untoward results of the lives thus devoted — dazzling
and heroic as some passages in their dramatic vicissitudes
may appear — point the moral of the futihty of such pursuit
on the part of the gentler sex, and indicate the certainty of
the penalty to be paid by those who by venturing into the
fervid, exhausting struggle, and rashly courting exposm'e to
the rough blows of the battle of political Hfe, with its coarse
and noisy passions, have discovered too late that the strife
has done them irreparable injury. In the cases of those
selected it will be seen that the fierce contention has com
monly involved the sacrifice of conjugal happiness, the wel
fare of children, domestic peace, reputation, and all the
amenities ofthe gentle life.

vlii Introduction.
That clever women abound in the present day we have
undeniable proof — many as clever, no doubt, as that famous
philosopheress Madame du Chatelet, who managed at one
and the same moment the thread of an intrigue, her cards at
piquet, and a calculation in algebra, but who may still lack
the qualifications indispensably necessary to make clever poli
ticians. Perhaps, therefore, we might be allowed to suggest
that it would be well for ladies who are ambitious of figuring
in either or both spheres that politics and diplomacy are
special and laborious pursuits, involving a great deal of
knowledge as difficult, and in the first instance as repulsive,
to acquire as Greek or chemistry. Yet, fully admitting
their capacity to qualify themselves intellectually, and
supposing them to attain the summit of their ambition of
figuring successfully in public life, a grave question still
arises — would they thereby increase or diminish their present
great social influence ? They have now more influence of a
certain kind than men have ; but if they obtain the influence
of men, they cannot expect to retain the influence of women.
Nature, it may be thought, has established a fair distribution
of power between the two sexes. Women are potent in one
sphere, and men in another ; and, if they are conscious of
the domestic sway they already exercise, they will not im
peril it by challenging dominion iu a field in which they
would be less secure.
Root and bond of the family, woman is no less a stranger
by her natural aptitudes than by her domestic ministrations
to the general interests of society ; the conduct of the latter
demands, in fact, a disengagement of heart and mind to
which she can only attain by transforming herself, to the
detriment of her duties and of her true influence. Ever to
subordinate persons to things, never to overstep in her efforts

Introduction. ix
the strict measure of the possible — those two conditions of
the political life are repugnant to her ardent and devoted
nature. Even amongst women in whom those gifts are met
with in the highest degree, clearness of perception has been
almost always obscured by the ardour of pursuit or that of
patronage — by the irresistible desire of pushing to the extre
mity of success her own ideas, and especially those of her
friends. Again, let us imagine political life to resemble a great
game at cards, the rules of which have been settled before
hand, and the winnings devoted to the use of the greatest
number ; well, a woman ought never to take a hand in it.
Her place should be at the player's elbow, to warn and
advise him, to point out an unperceived chance, to share in
his success, more than all to console him, should luck run
against him. Thus, whilst all her better qualities would be
brought into play, all her weaker would not in any wise be
at stake.
We would put it, therefore, to the womanly conscience —
Is it not a hundred times more honourable to exercise, so to
speak, rights that are legitimately recognised, though wisely
limited, than to suffer in consideration, and often in reputa
tion, from an usurpation always certain of being disputed ?
It has been the author's endeavour to show the truth of
these conclusions by tracing the political career of certain
well-born and singularly-gifted women — women whose lofty
courage, strength of mind, keen introspection, political zeal,
and genius for intrigue enabled them to baffle and make
head against some of the greatest political male celebrities
of modern history, without, however, winning us over to their
opinions or their cause ; women who, in some instances,
. after passing the best period of their lives in political strife.

X Introduction.
in fostering civil war, in hatching perilous plots, and who,
having cast fortune and all the " gentle life " to the winds,
preferred exile to submission, or to wage a struggle as fruit
less as it was unceasing ; until having arrived at the tardy
conviction of its futility, and that they had devoted their
existence to the pursuit of the illusory and the chimerical,
they found at len gth repose and tranquillity only in solitude
and repentance.
In the stirring careers of certain among these remarkable
personages, it will be seen that the mainspring of their
political zeal was either the fierce excitement of an over
mastering passion, an irresistible proclivity to gallantry, or
an absorbing ambition, rather than any patriotic motive.
This may go far to explain the singular sagacity, finesse,
and energy displayed in their devotion to what otherwise
appears alike mischievous and chimerical by those three
high-born and splendidly-gifted women who figured so con
spicuously in the civil war of the Fronde ; and, though
so much self-abnegation, courage, constancy, and heroism,
well or ill displayed, may obtain some share of pardon for
errors it would be wrong to palliate or condone, their
example, it is to be hoped, will prove deterrent rather than
contagious. La Rochefoucauld— a morahst, though by no
means a moral man— who well knew the sex, had seen at
work these political women of the time of the Fronde. That
opportunity does not appear to have inspired him with an
unbounded admiration for them from that point of view.
Of the peril and mischief that fair trio inflicted upon
Anne of Austria's great Prime Minister and the State he
governed we have an interesting personal record. When,
in leOO, Mazarin's policy, triumphant on every side, had
added the treaty of the Pyrenees to that of Westphalia, the

Introdtiction. xi
honour of the conclusion of the protracted' conference held
at the Isle of Pheasants was reserved for the chief Ministers
of the two Crowns — the Ca,rdinal and Don Louis- de Haro.
The latter congratulated his brother premier on the well-
earned repose he was about to enjoy, after such a long and
arduous struggle. The Cardinal replied that he could not
promise himself any repose in France, for there, he said, the
female politicians were more to be dreaded than the male ;
and he complained bitterly of the torments he had under
gone at the hands of certain political women of the Fronde
¦ — notably the Duchess de Longueville, the Duchess de
Chevreuse, and the Princess Palatine, each of whom, he
asserted, was capable of upsetting three kingdoms.
" You are very lucky here in Spain," he added. " You
have, as everywhere else, two kinds of women — coquettes in
abundance, and a very few simple-minded domestic women.
The former care only to please their lovers, the latter their
husbands. Neither the one nor the other, however, have
any ambition beyond indulging themselves in vanities and
luxuries. They only employ their pens in scribbling billet-
doux or love-confessions, neither one nor other bother their
brains as to how the grain grows, whilst talking about busi
ness makes their heads ache. Our women, on the contrary,
whether prudes or flirts, old or young, stupid or clever, will
intermeddle with everything. No honest woman," to use
the Cardinal's own words, " would permit her spouse to go
to sleep, no coquette allow her lover any favour, ere she had
heard all the political news of the day. They will see all
that goes on, will know everything, and — what is worse —
have a finger in everything, and set everything in con
fusion. We have a trio, among others" — and he again
named the three fair factionists above mentioned — " who

xii Introduction.
threw us all daily into more confusion than was ever known
in Babel."
" Thank heaven ! " replied Don Louis, somewhat ungal-
lantly, " our women are of the disposition seemingly so
well known to you. Provided that they can finger the cash,
whether oftheir husbands or their lovers, they are satisfied;
and I am very glad to say that they do not meddle with
politics, for if they did they would assuredly embroil every
thing iu Spain as they do in France."
It was during the minority of Louis XIV. that Mazarin
had but too good cause to complain of the three clever and
fascinating women he thus named to Don Louis de Haro,
who through their political factions, intrigues, and gallant
ries gave Anne of Austria's Minister no rest, and for a long
period not only thwarted and opposed him, but at intervals
placed the State, and even his life, in imminent jeopardy.
Fortunately, in our political history the instances are
rare of women who have quitted the sphere of domesticity
and private life to take an active part in the affairs of State.
We say " fortunately ; " for in our opinion such abstention
has tended to the happiness of both sexes in England.
In French memoirs, politics and scandal, the jokes of the
salons and the councils of the Cabinet are inextricably mixed
up together, and reveal a pohtical system in which the autho
rity exercised under free institutions hymen had been trans
ferred to the art, the tact, and the accompUshments of the
female sex. We therein see how much women have done
by those subtle agencies. If France was a despotism tem
pered by epigrams, it was the hfe of the salons which
brought those epigrams to perfection ; and the salons thus
constituted a sort of social parliament, which, though unable
to stop the supplies or withhold the Mutiny Act, still pes-

Introduction. xiii
sessed a formidable weapon of offence in the power of
making the Government ridiculous. Such was the difi'er-
ence existing between two quite distinct modes of govern
ment ; between Parliamentary governtnent and closet govern
ment ; between the mace of the House of Commons and the
fan of the Duchess de Longueville. England, as we need
hardly say, has never had a government of this description.
The nearest approach to it which she has ever seen was
under the sway of Charles the Second, and, accordingly, the
nearest approach to French memoirs which our literature
possesses is in the volumes of Pepys and Hamilton. To
the almost universal exemption of Englishwomen from
taking an overt part in political affairs a striking exception
must be made in Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough. She is
the strongest example, perhaps, in the history of the world
—certainly in the history of this empire — of the abuse of
female favouritism, and the most flagrant instance of house
hold familiarity on the destinies of mankind. Sarah Jen-
ning's, the political heroine of her age, and Viceroy, as she
was called, in England, had, however, for contemporaries
two other remarkable women, who touched the springs of
political machinery quite as powerfully as — if not more
powerfully than, save herself, any to be found within the
limits of Europe — Madame de Maintenon and the Princess
des Ursins. In the respective careers of that other formid
able trio of female politicians may be traced the important,
the overwhelming, influence, which female Ministers, under
the title of Court ladies, had obtained over the destinies of
England, France, and Spain. At that momentous period —
the commencement of the eighteenth century — the memoirs
of a bed-chamber lady constitute the history of Europe.
The bed-chamber woman soon became the pivot of the

xiv Introduction.
political world. The influence of Mrs. Masham first endan
gered and finally overthrew the power of the great Duke of
Marlborough. Some of the characteristics of the reign of
Charles the Second reappeared partially and in a very un
attractive form under the two first Georges, and have served
to impart a tinge of French colour to the memoirs which
describe their Courts. But, fortunately for England, neither
Walpole nor his royal master were men of refined taste.
It would have been hard for a monarch like Charles the
Second, or a minister like Lord Bolingbroke, to resist the
charms of those beautiful and sprightly girls who sparkle
like diamonds in all the memoirs of that time. Their
political influence was but small. George the First and his
successor pursued their unwieldy loves and enjoyed their
boorish romps in a style not seductive to English gentle
men. Politics were surrendered to Walpole ; and the con
sequence was that, although there was plenty of immorality
under those gracious Sovereigns, yet the feminine element
of Court life had no longer that connection with public policy
which once for a brief space it had possessed; and the re
semblance to French manners in this respect grew less and
less, till it disappeared altogether with the accession of
George the Third.
During the reign of that domesticated paterfamiHas a
slight exception, it is true, occurred in the instance of
Georgina Spencer, Duchess of Devonshire. Young, beau
tiful, amiable, and witty, and not altogether free from
coquetry, she reckoned amongst her admirers some of the
most distinguished men of that day. She fascinated them
all without encouraging the pretensions of any; and not
withstanding the jealousy which so great a superiority
necessarily excited among her own sex, and despite the

Introduction, xv
rancour to which the inutility of their efforts to please her
gave birth in the bosoms of certain of the meu, she pre
served a reputation for discretion beyond all suspicion.
One circumstance of her life might indeed have cast a slur
upon her fair fame if her irreproachable conduct, added to
her natural graces, had not condoned a species of notoriety
which opinion in England very generally reproves. The
Duchess of Devonshire had friendly relations with the cele
brated Charles James Fox, and that friendship had taken
the tinge of party spirit. Fox presented himself as a can
didate to represent Westminster in Parliament. He had
two very formidable opponents, and it was thought that he
would have succumbed in the struggle had not several
amiable and energetic women made extraordinary efforts to
procure him votes. At the head of these fair solicitors was
the Duchess of Devonshire. A butcher whose vote she
requested promised it to her on the condition that he might
give her a kiss. To this she cheerfully consented, and that
kiss added one more vote to her friend's poll. Such fami
liarity was far less shocking to our English manners than
the too active and public part taken by a lady of distinction
in politics. Very few of her countrywomen before her time
had given occasion for a like scandal.*
The existence of those literary assemblies in France during
the eighteenth century, the most important of which were
* An anecdote of her has been preserved which proves how very general
was the impression the grace and beauty of the Duchess of Devonshire made
upon men in every station of society. On one occasion of her being present
on the racecourse at Newmarket, a burly farmer who stood near her car
riage, after having for some time gazed at her in a species of ecstasy, ex
claimed aloud, " Ah ! why am I not God Almighty ?— she should then be
Queen of Heaven l" The Duchess preserved her personal charms far beyond
the period of life when they commonly disappear among women, though
she lost one of her eyes a few years before her death in 180G.

xvi Introduction,
those presided over by Madame du Defi'and, Mdlle. de
Lespinasse, and Madame Geoffrin, were a characteristic feature
of the time. It is a notable fact that the abstention from
politics in those assemblies indirectly tended to increase the
power and importance of the women who frequented them.
Alluding to their influence, Montesquieu caustically remarked
that a nation where women give the prevailing tone must
necessarily be talkative. Then, however, it was the men
who talked and the women who listened. The men talked
because they could do little else ; women gave the prevailing
tone because men of all classes were partly compelled, and
partly willing, to gather around them. The nobles being
excluded from politics — in which none but the Ministers and
their creatures could interfere — exercising no control either
as individuals or as a body, naturally gave themselves up to
the pleasures of society. Their pohtical insignificance thus
increased the power and importance of women.
To a far greater degree was their power and importance
increased, on the contrary, during the first decade of the
French Revolution, when, from the exceptional position they
held, the salons of Madame Roland, Madame Necker,
Madame de Suard, and others were essentially political— that
of Madame Roland being almost an echo of the Legislative
Assembly. But women who love freedom abstractedly for
its own sake, and are ready to suffer and die for a pohtical
principle, like Madame Roland, are very rarely met with.
Towards the close ofthe century the female leaders ofthe
hitherto literary and social salons were so irresistibly swept
into the whirlpool of pubhc questions and events that they
for the most part involuntarily became mere political parti
sans. Among others, but with a considerable modification
on the score of the literary element, may be instanced

Introduction, xvii
Madame de Stael, who by descent, education, and natural
bias was inevitably destined to aim at political power. The
extent and prominence of that exercised by her must have
been considerable, though certainly overrated by Napoleon,
in whom, however, it excited such unreasonable apprehen
sion as led him to inflict ten years' banishment from France
upon the talented daughter of Necker.
It must not be inferred that we desire to reduce women
to the condition of a humiliating inaction. Far from it. In
the position we would place them they could never feel,
think, or act with greater interest or vivacity. Whilst it is
desirable that every kind of artifice or intrigue should be
interdicted from the interior of their domesticity, it is quite
permissible for them to watch attentively important matters
that may be occurring in public life. To that function they
may bring their care and their sohcitude, in order to follow
and second continually the companion of their existence.
" Les hommes meme," says Fenelon, " qui ont toute I'au-
torit^ en public, ne peuvent par leurs deliberations ^tablir
aucun bien effectif, si les femmes ne leur aident a I'ex^cuter."
Such was the legitimate influence exercised by the Princess.
Esterhazy, Ladies Holland, Palmerston, and Beaconsfield,
in our day. It is no secret that the late lamented Viscountess
Beaconsfield took the deepest interest in every great move
ment in which her illustrious husband was engaged. Such,
too, was the case with Lady Palmerston, in reference to the
great statesman whose name she bore. The influence of
women in the politics of recent days is something peculiar
and new. Our time has seen many women whose share in
the politics of men was frank, unconcealed, and legitimate,
while yet it never pretended or sought to be anything more
than an influence — never attempted to be a ruling spirit.
VOL. I. J

xviu

Introdtiction.

By following these examples, the women of England may
make their power felt, without demanding to be put upon
the same footing as their husbands.
Woman's reign, it has been truly said, " is almost absolute
within the four walls of a drawing-room." It is undisputed
in family direction and in the management of children ; but
the cases are rare indeed where it extends to public questions
of any kind. The Frenchwoman of the present day is
essentially a woman. Her objects are alinost always feminine ;
she does not seek to go beyond her sphere ; she understands
her mission as one of duty in her house and of attraction
towards the world ; she is generally very ignorant of politics
and all dry subjects, and shrinks from any active part in
their discussion. Of course there are exceptions by the
thousand ; but the rule is that she voluntarily abstains from
interference in outside topics, whatever be their gravity or
their importance. She may have a vague opinion on such
matters, picked up from hearing men talk around her, but
the bent of her nature leads her in other ways — her tendency
is to'wards things which satisfy her as a woman. It naturally
follows that men do not give her what she does not seem to
want. They consult her on matters of mutual interest, they
ask for and often follow her advice in business ; but in nine
cases out of ten no husband would allow his wife to tell him
how to vote at an election, or what form of government to
support. This distinction is infinitely more remarkable in
France than any analogous condition would be in England,
because of the existence there of several rivals to the throne
and the consequent splitting up of the entire nation into
adherents of each pretender. Yet even this exceptional
position does not induce Frenchwomen to become politicians.
Some few of them, of course, are so, and fling themselves

Introduction. xix
with ardour into the cause they have adopted ; but, fortu
nately for the tranquillity of their homes, the greater part
of them have wisdom enough to comprehend that their real
functions on the earth are of another kind.
The majority of the champions of the enfranchisement of
the sex have loudly protested against the hackneyed truisms,
formerly so rife, which impute to women every imaginable
form of silliness and frivohty; that they, like Alphonse
Karr's typical woman, have nothing to do but " s'habiller,
babiller et se deshabiller." But it will be well to remember
the existence of another class of maxims of even greater
weight, which dwell on the subtle influence of women, and
of its illimitable consequences. " If the nose of Cleopatra,"
remarks the most famous of these aphorists — Pascal — "had
been a hair's-breadth longer, the fortunes of the world would
have been altered." Has the influence of the sex decreased
since the days of the dusky beauty whose irresistible fascina
tions "  lost a world, and bade a hero fly ? "
Rather, is it not infinitely more subtle, wider, and more pre
vailing than ever ? No one who recognises the skill with
which that immense influence may be exercised can hsten
without astonishment to the flimsy arguments which are
usually advanced in support of the question of the political
enfranchisement of the sex. That the results of giving this
particular form of ability— a power which is irresistible to
the highest intellectual refinement— the political arena for
its field have not only proved widely injurious to women
who have so exercised it, but to those most closely connected
with them, it has been the author's object to show.
" And what hope of permanent success," it has been
cogently asked, " could women have if they were to enter

XX Introduction.
into competition with men in callings considered peculiarly
masculine, many of which are already overstocked ? " We
are also brought here again face to face with that evil — the
lessening or the complete loss of womanly grace and purity.
Take away that reverential regard which men now feel for
them, leave them to win their way by sheer strength of
body or mind, and the result is not difficult to conjecture.
Let the condition of women in savage hfe tell. Towards
something like this, although in civiHsed society not so
coarsely and roughly exposed to view, matters would tend if
these agitators for women's rights were successful. Hus
bands, brothers, sons, have too keen a sense of what they
owe of good to their female relatives to risk its loss ; or to
exchange the gentleness, purity, and refinement of their
homes for boldness, flippancy, hardness and knowledge of
evil. Nature, herself, then, has disqualified women from fight
ing and from entering into the fierce contentions of the
prickly and crooked ways of politics. There is a silent
and beautiful education which Heaven intended that all
alike should learn from mothers, sisters, and wives. Each
home was meant to have in their gentler presence a soft
ening aud refining element, so that strength should train
itself to be submissive, rudeness should become abashed,
and coarse passions held in check by the natural influence
of women. High or low, educated or uneducated, there
is the proper work of the weaker sex. And, finally, we
venture to address her in the words of Lord Lyttelton : —
" Seek to be good, but aim not to be great j
A woman's noblest station is retreat ;
Her fairest virtues fly from public sight ;
Domestic worth — that shuns too strong a light."

BOOK I.

PAET I.

VOL. I

POLITICAL WOMEN.

CHAPTER I.
ANNE DE BOURBON,

SISTER OF THE GREAT CONDE, AFTERWARDS DUCHESS DE
LONGUEVILLE.
The brilliant heroine of the Fronde, of whose grace, beauty,
and influence Anne of Austria was so jealous — not to speak
of the mortal rivalry of the gay Duchesses de Montbazon
and de Ch^tillon — although the youngest of that famous
trio whom Mazarin fo;md so formidable in the arena of
IDolitics, obviously claims alike from her exalted rank and
the memorable part she played in the tragi-comedy of the
Fronde, priority of notice among the bevy of the Cardinal's
fair political opponents.
Some time in the month of August, 1619, Anne Gene
vieve de Bourbon-Condd first saw the Hght in the donjon of
Vincennes, where her parents had been kept State prisoners
for three years previously. She was the eldest of the three
.children of Henry (II.) de Bourbon-Conde, first prince of the
blood, and of that Charlotte Marguerite de Montmorency,
'' the beauty, perfect grace and majesty of her time,"* The
lovely Montmorency on coming to Court in her fifteenth
year had sorely troubled the heart of the amorous soldier-
• Lenet.

4 Political Women.
long, Henry of Navarre, who had married her in 1609 to
his nephew of Conde with the covert hope of finding him an
accommodating husband ; but the latter, alike defiant and
uxorious, made the jovial Beamois plainly understand that
he had wedded the blooming Charlotte exclusively for him
self. The gaillard monarch, however, at length grew so
deeply enamoured that the prince, perceiving there was too
much cause to fear the result of the constant assiduities of
his royal uncle, fled precipitately with his young wife from
France, only to return thither after tidings reached him of
the great Henry's assassination. To the fair Montmo
rency's very decided proclivity to gallantry was to be attri
buted — if we may beheve the scandal-loving Tallemant
des Reaux — her long confinement, by the Regent Marie
de' Medici's consent, within the gloomy fortress of Vin
cennes, rather than any reason of State for her sharing her
husband's imprisonment. In fact, it was beheved that the
jealous prince procured her incarceration simply to keep
her out of harm's way.
Deriving from her mother the threefold gifts of grace,
beauty, and majesty, the fair Bourbon inherited also, it
must be owned, a share of that princess's iachnation to
I'honnete galanterie. The restriction to a share should be
noted ; for at no period of her heydey, not even during the
licence of the Fronde, could Anne Genevieve be accused of
having — as Madame de MotteviUe tells us the Princess de
Conde had, — adorers "in every rank and condition of Hfe,
from popes, kings, pruices, cardinals, dukes, and marshals
of France, down to simple gentlemen."
The mind and heart, however, of Anne de Bourbon,
although predestined, alas ! eventually to culpable passion,
seemed at first but Httle incHned to the gay world  ^with aU

Political Women. 5
its blandishments and seductions, or even to its innocent
pleasures. When quite a child she was in the habit of
a,ccompanying her mother in her visits to the convent of
the CarmeHtes at Paris. For though still possessing great
personal attractions, Madame de Conde had become serious
and of a somewhat demonstrative piety. Those visits, .
which were frequent, strengthened Anne's gentle and sus
ceptible mind in its tendency to devotion. The impression,
too, which somewhat later the tragic fate of her uncle, the
unfortunate Duke de Montmorency,* left on her memory,
inspired her with the resolution to quit the outer world at
the earliest possible moment, and, renouncing aU its pomps
and grandeurs, hide beneath the veil her budding attrac
tions. Although her mother opposed an inflexible resist
ance to her embracing that holy vocation, and strove to
combat by forcible arguments the cold and disdainful de
meanour exhibited by her daughter when mixing in gay
society, the fair girl persevered from the age of thirteen to
seventeen in her longing to embrace the Hfe of the cloister.
Futile for a time were the parental arguments, unfruitful
every effort ! Anne Genevieve would not consort with
worldlings, persisted in her distaste for mundane pleasures,
and continued to cherish persistently her desire for con-
Yentual seclusion. At length the princess, in 1636, having
resolved upon the adoption of more energetic measures,
. suddenly ordered her daughter to make preparations for
appearing at a Court baU, alid that, too, in three days.
With what despair did the young princess hear the cruel
sentence ! What affliction, too, befell the CarmeHte nuns
when they heard of the fatal mandate. What a flood of
* Brought to the scaffold by Richelieu in 1632.

6 Political Women.
sighs and tears and prayers ! The good sisters gathered
themselves together to take counsel one with another, and
decided that, since Mdlle. de Bourbon could not avoid the
wretched fate that awaited her, before going through the
trying ordeal she should indue her lovely form with an
undergarment of hair-cloth (commonly called a cilice), and,
protected by such armour of proof, she might then fear
lessly submit herself to all the temptations lurking beneath
the ensnaring vanities of her Court attire. The cilice,
however, did not, it seems, prove invulnerable as the aegis
of Minerva, for the subtle shafts winged by homage and
admiration pierced through that slight breast-plate to a
heart which in truth was by nature framed to inspire and
welcome both. The Princess de Conde rejoiced greatly at
her daughter's conversion to more reasonable views of mun
dane existence. The commencement of her noviciate was
no longer thought of, and her visits to the Carmelites
became sufficiently rare. But it was only a deferment of
that cahn vocation, it being Anne de Bourbon's destuiy
to embrace it at the close of her feverish pohtical
career. This era of her entrance into the great world was pro
bably the happiest, the most joyous of the fair Bourbon's
Hfe. Lofty distinction of birth, great personal beauty, and
rare mental fascination, contributed to place her in the very
foremost rank of the Court circle— in the "height of com
pany " — conspicuous amongst lovely dames aud distin
guished men ofthe time. Her peerless lovehness at once
meeting with universal recognition, " la beHe Conde " was
toasted with acclamation by courtiers, young and old  at
ChantiUy, at Liancourt, at the Louvre, and at the H6tel de
RambouiUet. Contemporaries of either sex have rendered

Political Women. 7
unanimous testimony to the varied and exceptional cha
racter of her attractions, and we wiU let a woman's pen add
to Petitot's pencilling some of those deHcate traits which
neither the burin nor even the vivid tints of the enamel
h^ive the power to convey.
" Her beauty," says Mdme. de MottevHle, " consisted
moie in the brilliance of her complexion" — ("it had the
blush of the pearl," writes another contemporary) — "than
in jerfection of feature. Her eyes were not large, but
briglt, and finely cut, and of a blue so lovely it resembled
that of the turquoise. The poets could only apply the
trite eomparison of lilies and roses to the carnation which
mantled on her cheek, whilst her fair, silken, luxuriant
tresse, and the pecuhar Hmpidity of her glance, added to
many other charms, made her more Hke an angel — so far as
our iaperfect nature allows of our imagining such a being
— thai a mere woman." Somewhat later, the smallpox, in
robbing her of the bloom of her beauty, still left her all
its briliancy, to repeat the remark of that eminent con-
noisseix of female loveliness. Cardinal de Retz.
To sum up the general opinion of her contemporaries :
MdUe. de Bourbon rather charmed by the very pecuhar
style oi her countenance than by its linear regularity. One
of her greatest fascinations lay in an indescribable languor,
both o]" mind and manner — " a languor interrupted at ia-
¦ tervals" says De Retz, " by a sort of luminous awakenings,
as surjrising as they were dehghtful. This physical and
intellectual indolence presented later in life a piquant con
trast t'> her then" — according to Mdme. de MottevHle —
" somewhat too passionate temperament." She was of
good leight, and altogether of an admirable form. It is
evident also, from the authentic portraits of her still

8

Political Women.

extant, that she had that kind of attraction so much prized
during the seventeenth century, and which, with beautifjil
hands, had made the reputation of Anne of Austria. In
speech, we are told, she was very gentle. Her gestures,
with the expression of her countenance, and the sound/of
her voice, produced the most perfect music. But her pepu-
liar charm consisted in a graceful ease— a languor, as all
her contemporaries expressed it — which would qui kly
change to the highest degree of animation when sti-red
by emotion, but which usuaUy gave her an air of indolfence
and aristocratic nonchalance, sometimes mistaken for emui,
sometimes for disdain.
Crediting the unvarying testimony of these and otler of
her contemporaries, the daughter of Bourbon-Conde must
have been at least as beautiful as her mother — enoDwed,
indeed, with almost every attribute and feature of ^male
lovehness. "Beauty," remarks a philosophic panegyrist of p^iysical
perfection, "extends its prestige to posterity itsef, and
attaches a charm for centuries to the name alone, of the
privileged creatures upon whom it has pleased heiven to
bestow it." Beauty has also its epochs. It dees not
belong to all men and to all ages to enjoy it in its exquisite
perfection. As there are fashions which spoU it, E3 there
are periods which affect its sentiment. For instmce, it
belonged to the eighteenth century to invent pretty women
— charming dolls — all powder, patches, and perfume affect
ing the attractions which they did not possess undir their
vast hoops and great furbelows. Let us venture |to say
that the foundation of true beauty, as of true virtu*, as of
true genius, is strength. Shed over this strenmh the
vivifying rays of elegance, grace, deHcacy, and yoij have

Political Women. 9
beauty. Its perfect type is the Venus of MHo,* or again,
that pure and mysterious apparition, goddess or mortal,
which is caUed Psyche, or the Venus of Naples.! Beauty
is certainly to be seen in the Venus de' Medici, but in that
type we feel that it is declining, or about to decline. Look
at, not the women of Titian, but the virgins of Raphael
and Leonardo : the face is of infinite delicacy, but the body
evinces strength. These forms ought to disgust one for
ever with the shadows and monkeys d la Pompadour. Let
lis adore grace, but not separate it in everything too much
from strength, for without strength grace soon shares the
fate of the flower that is separated from the stem which
vitalizes and sustains it.
What a train of accompHshed women this seventeenth
century presents to us ! They were not aU politicians.
Women who were loaded with admiration, drawing after
them all hearts, and spreading from rank to rank that
worship of beauty which throughout Europe received the
name of French gaUantry. In France they accompany this
great century in its too rapid course ; they mark its princi
pal epochs, beginning with Charlotte de Montmorency and
endmg with Mdme. de Montespan. The Duchess de
LongueviUe has perhaps the most prominent place in that
dazzling gaUery.of lovely women, having aU the charac
teristics of true beauty, and joining to it a charm exclusively
her own.
In early girlhood she had been taken, along with her
elder brother, the Duke d'Enghien, to the Hotel de Ram-
bouUlet ; and the salons of the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre
* Quatrem&re de Quincy, Dissertation upon the Antique Statue of Venus
Discovered in the Island of Milo. 1836.
t MDlingen : Ancient Inedited Monuments. Fol. 1826.

IO

Political Women.

were probably the most fitting school for such a mind as
hers, in which grandeur and finesse were almost equally
blended— a grandeur aUied to the romantic, and associated
with a finesse frequently merging into subtilty, as uideed
may be discerned in CorneiUe himself, the most perfect
mental representative of that period.
To foUow step by step the course of Anne de Bom'bon's
Hfe at this period of it through aU its earhest rivakies,
would involve the task of recording the manifold caprices of
a tender, yet ambitious nature, in which the mind and heart
were unceasingly dupes of each other. It would be like an
attempt to foUow the devious path of the Hght foam and
laughing sparkle of the billow —
" In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.''
Our purpose Hes mainly with her political life, but ere
entering upon it we wiU give a short but comprehensive
view of her character in the words of one who, more than
anybody else, had the means of judging her correctly — La
Rochefoucauld. "This Princess," writes the Duke, "pos
sessed all the charms of mind, united to personal beauty, to
so high a degree, that it seemed as though nature had taken
pleasure in forming in her person a perfectly finished work.
But those fine qualities were rendered less briUiant through
a blemish rarely seen in one so highly endowed, which was
that, far from giving the law to those who had a particular
admiration for her, she transfused herself so thoroughly
into their sentiments that she no longer recognised her
own." Now La Rochefoucauld should have been the last person
to complain of that defect, since he was the first to foster it
in the Duchess. In her bosom love awoke ambition, but

Political Women. 1 1
the awakening was so sudden, in fact, that any difference in
the two passions was never perceptible.
Singular contradiction ! The more we contemplate the
poHtical bias of Madame de LongueviUe the more it becomes
mingled with her amorous caprice ; but when we analyse
her love more narrowly (and later on in Hfe she herself
made the avowal), it appears nothing else than ambition
travestied — a desu'e to shine only the more magnificently
briUiant. Her character, then, was entirely wanting in consistency,
in self-will ; and her mind, be it observed, however brilliant
and acute, had nothing that was calculated to counter
balance that defect of character. One may possess the
faculty of right perception without strength of mind to do
that which is right. One may be rational in mind and
the contrary in conduct — character being at fault between
the two. But here the case was different. Madame de
LonguevUle's mind was not, above all else, rational ; it was-
acute, prompt, subtle, witty by turns, and readily responsive
to the varying humour ofthe moment. It shone voluntarily
in contradiction and subterfuge, ere exhausting itself finally
in scruples. There was much of the Hotel de RambouUlet
in such a mind as hers.
" The mind in the majority of women serves rather to
confirm their folly than their reason." So says the author
of the " Maxims; " and Madame de Longueville, with all her
metamorphoses, was undoubtedly present before him when
he penned the sentence. For she, the most feminine of her
sex, would offer to him the completest epitome of all the
rest. In short, evidently as he has made his observations.
upon her, she also seems to have drawn her conclusions
from him. So the agreement is perfect.

CHAPTER II.
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE.
A YOUNG Princess of the Blood so lovely, fascmatiug, and
witty as Anne de Bourbon, was surely destined, it might be
thought, to contract an early and altogether suitable matri
monial aUiance. It was therefore somewhat surprising to
find how much difficulty there was in mating her. Foremost
among those who sought her hand was that hair-brained,
handsome, coarse-mannered Duke de Beaufort, younger son
of Cffisar de Vendome, himself the bastard of the jovial
Beamois by the Fair Gabrielle.* Beaufort inherited his
unfortunate grand-dame's beauty — had a Phoebus- ApoUo
style of head, set off with a profusion of long, curly, golden
locks ; was a young, brave, and flourishing gallant, and some
what later (during the Fronde), from his blunt speech and
famihar manners with the Parisian mob, became the idol of
the market-women, and was therefore dubbed iioi des Halles.
But this scapegrace suitor withdrew his pretensions in order
to gratify, it is said, the handsome though decried Duchess
de Montbazon, who had enthralled him m her flowery chains
as a led-captain. On entering her nineteenth year MdUe.
de Bourbon was promised in marriage to the Prince de
JoinvUle, son of Charles of Lorraine (Duke de Guise), but
that young nobleman having died prematurely in Italy, no
other serious matrimonial project seems to have been enter
tained until the Princess had reached her twenty- third year.
* Created Duchess de Beaufort by Henry IV.

Political Women. 13
The fortunate suitor was one of Beaufort's rivals — or, rather,
coUeagues — for that would be the more correct term when
designating their mutual relations to the unscrupulous
Duchess de Montbazon. The widower, Henry of Orleans
(Duke de Longueville), by bkth, dignity, and wealth was
looked upon as the first match in France. Unfortunately,
in his case, those dazzHng attributes were materially abated
through disparity of age, for he had reached the ripe matu
rity of forty-seven, whilst the bride of his choice had not yet
seen half that cycle of summers. To be twenty-four years
her senior was, for the husband of a youthful princess so
exceUing in wit and beauty, certainly a formidable inequality,
and so Mdlle. de Bourbon seems to have thought. At the
command, however, of her father, who intimated that his
determination was inflexible in thus disposing of his
daughter's hand, Anne Genevieve meekly complied, and
was espoused in June, 1642, to Henri de Bourbon, Duke
de LongueviUe.*
The young Duchess found herself speedily surrounded by
a swarm of courtiers, attracted by her sprightly and refined
inteUigence, her majestic beauty, her nonchalant and lan
guishing grace. What more adorable mistress could an
audacious aspirant dream of? Bold adventurers for such a
lady's love there was no lack of; and would not many be
encouraged with the thought that such a prize could only
be defended by a husband abeady verging towards the
decline of Hfe, and whose heart, moreover, was believed to
be in the keeping of another ? The sighs of the suitors,
however, aU adventurous and calculatmg as they might be,
were wasted, their hopes altogether faUacious. For six long
• The Duke was descended from the " brave Dunoie," bastard of Orleans.

14 Political Women.
years there was nothing more accorded to that crowd of
often-renewed adorers save the smiles of an innocent
coquetry. He who, during that period of honest gaUantry,
coming near to La Rochefoucauld, seems to have made the
livehest impression, was Cohgny ; and it was only slanderers
who whispered that the young Count was happier than
became the adorer of a heroine of the De RambouiUet
school Madame de Longueville, nevertheless, possessed the cha
racteristics of her sex ; she had alike its lovable quahties
and its weU-known imperfections. In a sphere where
gallantry was the order of the day, that young and fas
cinating creature, married to a man already in the dechne
of life, and, moreover, with his affections engaged elsewhere,
merely followed the universal example. Tender by nature,
the senses, she herself says in her confessions — the humblest
ever made— played no minor part in the affairs of the heart.
But, surrounded unceasmgly by homage, she fomid pleasure
in receiviag it. Very lovable, she centred her happiness in
being loved. Sister of the Great Conde, she was not hisen-
sible to the idea of playing a part which should occupy
pubhc attention ; but, far from pretending to domination,
there was so much of the woman in her that she aUowed
herself to be led by him whom she loved. Wliilst, around
her, interest and ambition assumed so frequently the hues of
love, she Hstened to the dictates of her heart alone, and
devoted herself to the interest and ambition of another. All
contemporary writers are unanimous on that point. Her
enemies sharply reproach her aHke for not having a fittmg
object in her poHtical intrigues, and for being unnundful of
her own interests. But they appear not to be aware that, in
thmMng to overwhelm her memory by such accusation, they

Political Women. 15
rather elevate it, and they are assiduous to cover her faults
and misconduct — ^faults which, after all, are centred in one
alone. In short, some writers cast the greater part of the
blame the young Duchess's conduct merits upon her
husband, who, according to them, knew not how to make
amends for his own disadvantage, on the score of disparity
of age, by an anxious and indulgent tenderness.
Before their marriage was solemnised it was stipulated
that the Duke de Longueville should break off his liaison
with the Duchess de Montbazon— then notorious as one of
the most unrestrained among the women of fashion at the
Court of the Regent. Tliis, however, the Duke unhappily
failed to do.
In declaring its adhesion to Mazarin at the commence
ment of the Regency, the House of Conde had drawn upon
itself the hatred of the party of the Importants, though that
enmitjr scarcely rebounded upon Madame de Longueville.
Her amiableness in everything where her heart was not
seriously concerned, her perfect indifference to f)oHtics at
this period of her life, together with the graces of her mind
and person, rendered her universally popular, and shielded
her against the injustice of partisan malice. But outside
the pale of pohtics she had an enemy, and a formidable one,
in the Duchess de Montbazon. That bold and dangerous
woman having by her fascinations enslaved Beaufort, the
quondam admirer of Madame de Longueville, the young
Duke through her intrigues became a favourite chief of the
Importants, Amongst the earliest to sweU the ranks of that
faction were two other personages who had played a very
conspicuous part during the reign of Louis XIII. The first
of these, Madame de Montbazon's step-daughter, was the
witty, beautiful, and errant Duchess de Chevreuse, whom

1 6 Political Women.
Louis had judged so dangerous that he had expressly for
bidden by his wiU, when on the point of death, that she
should ever be recalled from exile to Court. By the same
prohibition was affected the former Keeper of the Seals, the
Marquis de Chateauneuf, who had displayed considerable
talent under Richelieu, but had ultimately made himself
obnoxious to that great Minister, after having given many
a sanguinary proof of his devotion to him. A glance at
the antecedents of that remarkable woman, Madame de
Chevreuse, the early favourite of Anne of Austria, wiU now
be necessary in order to understand clearly her relative
position to the Queen and Mazarin at the commencement
of the Regency, as weU as to those incipient Frondeurs,
the Importants, at the moment of her dragging the Prince
de MarsiUac (afterwards Duke de Rochefoucald) into that
party.

CHAPTER III.
the duchess de CHEVREUSE.
From the long-sustained, vigorous, and very eminent part
played by Marie de Rohan in opposing the repressive system
of the two great Cardinal Ministers, her name belongs
equally to the poHtical history as to that of the society and
manners of the first half of the sixteenth century.
She came of that old and iUustrious race the issue of the
first princes of Brittany, and was the daughter of Hercule
de Rohan, Duke de Montbazon, a zealous servant of
Henry IV., by his fiirst wife Madeleine de Lenoncourt,
sister of Urbain de Laval, Marshal de Bois-Dauphin.
Born in December, 1600, she lost her mother at a very
early age, and in 1617 was married to that audacious
favourite of Louis XIII. , De LujTies, who from the humble
office of " bird-catcher " to the young King, rose to the
proud dignity of Constable of France, and who, upon the
faith of a kiag's capricious friendship, dared to undertake
the reversal of the Queen-mother, Marie de' Medici's
authority; hurl to destruction her great favourite, the
Marshal d'Ancre ; combat simultaneously princes and Pro
testants, and commence against Richelieu the system of
RicheHeu. Early becoming a widow, Marie next, in 1622,
entered the house of Lorraine by espousing Claude, Duke
de Chevreuse, one of the sons of Henry de Guise, great
Chamberlain of France, whose highest merit was the name
he bore, accompanied by good looks and that bravery which
VOL. I. c

1 8 Political Women,
was never wanting to a pruice of Lorraine; otherwise
disorderly in the conduct of his affaks, of not very edifymg
manner of Hfe, which may go far to explain and extenuate
the errors of his young wife. The new Duchess de
Chevreuse had been appointed during the sway of her
first husband, surintendante (controller) of the Queen §
household, and soon became as great a favourite of Anne
of Austria as the Constable de Luj'ues was of Louis the
Just, The French Court was then very brilhant, and
gaUantry the order of the day. Marie de Rohan was
naturaUy vivacious and dashing, and, yielding herself up
to the seductions of youth and pleasm-e, she had lovers,
and her adorers drew her into politics. Her beauty and
captivating manners were such as to fascinate and enthral
the least impressible who crossed her path, and their dan
gerous power was extensively employed in influencing the
pohtics of Europe, and consequently had a large share in
framing her own destiny. A portrait in the possession of
the late Duke de Luynes* represents her as having an
admirable figure, a charming expression of countenance,
large and well-opened blue eyes, chesnut-tmted fair hair m
great abundance, a weU-formed neck, with the loveliest bust
possible, and throughout her entire person a piquant blend
ing of delicacy, grace, vivacity, and passion. The foUowing
summary of her character by the clever, caustic, but Httle
scrupulous De Retz, graphic as it is, and based on a certain
amount of truth, must not be unhesitatiagly accepted, it
being over-coloured by wilful exaggeration : — " I have never
seen anyone else," says he, "in whom vivacity so far
* This nobleman died at Rome in December, 1867, at the age of sixty-
five, having gone thither to aid the Pope against the Garibaldians.

Political Women. 19
usurped the place of judgment. It very often inspired her
with such brilliant sallies that they flashed like lightning,
and so sensible withal, that they might not have been
disowned by the greatest men of any age. The manifesta
tion of this faculty was not confined to particular occasions.
Had she lived in times when pohtics were non-existent, she
would not have rested content with the idea only that they
ought to have been rife. If the Prior of the Carthusians
had pleased her, she would have become a sincere recluse.
M. de Luynes initiated her into pohtics, the Duke of Buck
ingham and the Earl of HoUand corresponded with her
upon them, and Chateauneuf amused her with them.
She gave herself up to their pursuit because she abandoned
herself, without reserve, to everything which pleased the
individual whom she loved, and simply because it was indis
pensable that she should love somebody. It was not even
difficult to give her a lover by setting an eligible suitor to
pay her court with an ostensible political motive; but as
soon as she accepted him, she loved him solely and faith
fully, and she owned to Mdme. de Rhodes and myself that,
through caprice, she said, she had never really loved those
whom she esteemed the most, with the exception of the
unfortunate George ViUiers, Duke of Buckingham. Devo
tion to the passion which in her might be caUed eternal,
although she might change the object of it, did not prevent
even a fly from causing her mental abstraction; but she
always recovered from it with a renewed exuberance which
made such phases rather agreeable than otherwise. No one
ever took less heed about danger, and never woman had
more contempt for scruples and duties : she never recog
nised other than that of pleasing her lover."
This epigrammatic sketch is almost worthy of the exag-

20 Political Women.
gerated author of the Historiettes,* and the reader is advised
to accept only its more salient and truthful traits — the keen
and accurate glance of Mdme. de Chevreuse in scanning
the prevailing aspect of the political horizon, her dauntless
courage, the fidehty and devotion of her love. Retz, more
over, mistakes entirely the order of her adventures; he
forgets and then invents. In strivhig after epigrammatic
point, he sacrifices truth to smartness of style, and writes as
though he looked upon events in which the passions of the
Duchess made her take part as mere trifies, whereas among
them there were some than which none were ever of gTaver
or even more tragic moment.
Mdme. de Chevreuse, in fact, possessed almost all the
quahties befitting a great poHtician. One alone was wanting,
and precisely that without which all the others tended to
her rum. She failed to select for pursuit a legitimate
object, or rather she did not choose one for herself, but left
it to another to choose for her. Mdme. de Chevreuse was
womanly in the highest possible degree ; that quality was
alike her strength and her weakness. Her secret main
spring was love, or rather gaUantry,! and the mterest of
him whom she loved became her paramount object. It is
this which explains the wonderful sagacity, finesse, and
energy she displayed in the vain pursuit of a chimerical
aim, which ever receded before her, and seemed to draw her
on by the very prestige of difficulty and danger. La Roche
foucauld accuses her of having brought misfortune upon all
those whom she loved; I it is equally the truth to add that
all those whom she loved hurried her in the sequel into
* TaUement des E^aux.
t Mdme. de MotteviUe.
t Mimoires, Petitot's Collection, 2nd series, vol. li. p. 339.

Political Women. 21
insensate enterprises. It was not she evidently who made
of Buckingham a species of paladin without genius; a
briUiant adventurer of Charles IV. of Lorraine ; of Chalais
a hau'-brained blunderer, rash enough to commit himself in
a consph-acy against RicheHeu, on the faith of the faithless
Duke d'Orleans ; of Chateauneuf, an ambitious statesman,
impatient of holding second rank in the Government, with
out being capable of taking the first. Let no one imagine
that he is acquainted with Mdme. de Chevreuse from having
merely studied the foregoing portrait traced by De Retz,
for that sketch is an exaggeration and over-charged Hke aU
those from the same pen, and was destined to amuse the
malignant curiosity of Mdme. de Caumartin — for without
being altogether false, it is of a severity pushed to the verge
of injustice. Was it becoming, one might ask, of the
restless and Hcentious Coadjutor to constitute himself the
remorseless censor of a. woman whose errors he shared?
Did he not deceive himself as much and for a far longer
period than she? Did he show more address in poHtical
strategy or courage in the dangerous strife, more intrepidity
and constancy in defeat ? But Mdme. de Chevreuse has not
written memoHs in that free-and-easy and piquant style the
constant aim of which is self- elevation, obtained at the
expense of everybody else. There are two judges of her
character the testimony of whose acts must be held to be
above suspicion — Richelieu and Mazarin. RicheHeu did all
in his power to win her over, and not being able to succeed,
he treated her as an enemy worthy of himself.
To revert briefly to her long-continued struggle with
RicheHeu, it must not be forgotten that for twenty years
she had been the personal friend and favourite of Anne of
Austria, and for ten years she had suffered persecution and

22 Political Wome7i.
privation on that account. Exiled, proscribed, and threat
ened with imprisonment, she had narrowly escaped Riche-
Heu's grasp by disguising herself in male attire, and in that
garb traversing France and Spain on horseback, had suc
ceeded in eluding his pursuit, and after many adventm'es in
safely reaching Madrid. PhUip IV. not only heaped every
kind of honour upon his sister's courageous favourite,
but even, it is said, swelled the number of her conquests.
WhUst in the Spanish capital she had allied herself poH-
tically with the Minister Ohvarez, and obtained great
ascendancy over the Cabinet of Madrid. The war between
France and Spain necessarily rendering her position hi the
latter country delicate and embarrassing, she had, early in
1638, sought refuge in England. Charles I. and Henrietta
Maria gave her the warmest possible reception at St. James's;
and the latter, on seeing again the distinguished country
woman who had some years back conducted her as a bride
from Paris to the Enghsh shores to the arms of Prince
Charles, embraced her warmly, entered into aU her troubles,
and both the Enghsh King and Queen wrote letters pleading
in her behalf, to Louis XIIL, Anne of Austria, and RicheHeu
with regard to the restoration of her property and permis
sion to rejoin her children at Dampierre. She herself
resumed the Hnks of a negotiation with the Cardinal which
had never been entkely broken off, and the success of which
seemed quite practicable, since it was ahnost equally desired
by both. That negotiation was being carried on for more
than a year, and when Hnk after Imk had been frequently
snapped and re-soldered, only to be once more broken,
RicheHeu at length gave liis solemn word that she might
return with perfect safety to Dampierre.
On the eve of her departure from the Enghsh Court,

Political Women. 23
a vessel bfeing in readiness to convey her to Dieppe,
where a carriage awaited her landing, the Duchess received
an anonymous letter warning her that certam ruin awaited
her if she set foot on the soU of France, followed by another,
stUl more expHcit with regard to RicheHeu' s designs to
effect her destruction, from no less a person than Charles of
Lorraine. This second warning from so rehable a source,
foUowed shortly afterwards by other advice — held by her in
the hght of a command — enchained her tb a foreign land.
She for whom during ten long years the Duchess had suf
fered dl things, braved aU things, her august friend Anne
of Austria cautioned her not to trust to appearances.
Thus vanished the last hope of a sincere reconcihation
between two persons who knew each other too weU to
discard distrust and to confide in words, of which neither
were sparing, without requiring solemn guarantees that
they could not or would not give.
Choosing stoicaUy, therefore, to stiU undergo the pangs
of absence, to consume the noontide of the days of her
attractive womanhood in privation and turmoil rather than
risk her liberty, Mdme. de Chevreuse on her part did not
remain iile. From the moment she felt convinced that
RicheHeu was deceivmg her, attracting her back to France
only to hi)ld her in a state of dependence, and if need were,
to incarcerate her — shaving broken with him, she considered
herself as free from aU scruple, and thought of nothing
further tian paying him back blow for blow. Her old
duel witl the Cardinal thus once more renewed, she
formed ir London, with the aid of the Duke de Vendome,
La Vieuvdle, and La Valette, a faction of active and adroit
emigrants, who, leaning on the Earl of HoUand, then one
of the chiefs of the RoyaHst party and a general in the army

24 Political Women,
of Charles of England ; upon Lord Montagu, an ardent
Papist and intimate adviser of Queen Henrietta Maria;
upon Digby and other men of influence at Court, maintamed
likewise the closest intelhgence with the Court of Rome
through its envoy in England, Rosetti, and especially with
tbe Cabinet of Madrid ; encom-aging and kiadling the hopes
of aU the proscribed and discontented, strewing obstacles
at aU points in the path of RicheHeu, and accumulating
formidable perils around his head.
On the brealdng out of the CivU War in England,
Mdme. de Chevreuse repaired to Brussels, where iij 1641
we find her acting as the connecting link between Eijgland,
Spain, and Lorraine. Without attributing to the Dichess
any especial motive beyond seconding an enterprise directed
against the common enemy, she did not the less play an
important part in the affair of the Count de Soissops — the
most formidable conspiracj' that had hitherto been hatched
agauist RicheHeu. Anne of Austria was certainly privy to
the plot and lent it her aid. She might have been ignorant
of the secret treaty with Spain ; but for all the rest, and so
far as it menaced the Cardinal, she had a perfect unierstand-
ing with the conspirators. That high-handed Miilister, by
overstraining the springs of government, by proloighig the
war, by increasing the public expenditure, and by oppressing
aU classes whilst he crushed some in particular, haE excited
a hatred so bitter and widespread that at length he governed
the State almost entirely through terror. WtiUst the
grandeur of his designs commanded respect and veneration
from a select few, his genius towered above the biilk of his
countrymen. But that harsh rule, continuing ujrelaxed,
and so many sacrifices being perpetuaUy renewed, kt length
wearied out the greater number, the King hinlself not

Political Women. 25
excepted. Louis's reigning favourite, the Grand-ficuyer,
Cinq Mars, undermined and blackened the Cardinal as
much as possible in his royal master's estimation. He
knew of the conspiracy of the Count de Soissons, and with
out taking a share in it, he favoured it. He might there
fore be reckoned upon to figure in the next. The Queen,
stUI in disgrace in spite of the two heirs she had given to
the crown, naturaUy breathed vows for the termination of a
rule which so oppressed her. Gaston, the King's brother,
had pledged his word, however Httle the reHance that might
be placed upon it ; but the Duke de BouiUon, an experienced
soldier and an eminent politician, had openly declared him
self; and his stronghold of Sedan, situated on the frontiers
of France and Belgium, offered an asylum whence could be
braved for a long while aU the power of the Cardinal. A
widespread understanding had been estabhshed throughout
every part of the kingdom, amongst the clergy, and in the
Parliament. There were conspirators in the very BastiUe
itself, where Marshal de Vitry and the Count de Cramail,
prisoners as they were, had prepared a coup de main with an
admirably-kept secrecy. The Abbe de Retz, then twenty-
five, preluded his adventurous career by this attempt at
civU war. The Duke de Guise, having effected his escape
from Rheims, and taken refuge in the Low Countries, was
about to share the dangers of the conspiracy at Sedan. But
the greatest — the firmest — hope of the Count de Soissons
rested upon Spain : that power alone could enable 1dm to
take the field ftom Sedan, to march upon Paris, and crush
the power of RicheHeu. He therefore despatched Alexandre
de Campion, one of his braTest and most inteUigent gentle
men, to Brussels to negotiate with the Spanish Ministers
and obtain from them troops and money. There he

26 Political Women.
addressed himself to Mdme. de Chevreuse, and confided to
her the mission with which he was charged, which she
hastened to second with aU her influence. Having prevaUed
upon Ohvarez to strenuously support those requirements
which the Count„de Soissons and the Duke de Bouillon
sought at his hands, she despatched letters by a secret
agent hi the service of Spain to the Duke de Lorraine,
entreating him not to fail her in this supreme opportunity
of repairing her past misfortunes and of dealing a mortal
blow to then' remorseless enemy. The Duke Charles, thus
soHcited at once by Mdme. de Chevreuse, by his kinsman
the Duke de Guise, by the Spanish Minister, and, more
than all, by his own restless and adventurous ambition,
broke the solemn compact he had so recently made with
France, entered into an aUiance with Spain and the Count
de Soissons, and prepared with aU dihgence to march to the
aid of Sedan. And whilst Mdme. de Chevreuse and the
emigrants brought into play every engine they could lay
hands on, Lamboy and Mettemich set out for Flanders at
the head of six thousand Imperiahsts. France — aU the
nationahties of Europe, were on the tiptoe of expectation.
RicheHeu had never been menaced with a greater danger, and
the loss of the battle of Marfee would have proved a fatal
event had not the Count de Soissons met his death simul
taneously with his triumph.
If Mdme. de Chevreuse were a stranger in 1642 to the
fresh conspiracy of Gaston, Duke d'Orleans, Cinq Mars,
and the Duke de BouUlon against her relentless foe, it would
have been the only one in which she had not taken a leadhig
part. It is indeed more than probable that she was in the
secret as weU as Queen Anne, whose understanding with
Gaston and Cinq Mars cannot be contested. La Rochefou-

Political Women. 27
cauld repeatedly remarks touching a matter in which he
seems to have been implicated, " The dazzHng reputation of
M. le Grand (Cinq Mars) rekindled the hopes of the dis
contented; the Queen and the Duke d'Orleans united with
him ; the Duke de BouUlon and several persons of quahty
did the same.".' De BouiUon also declares that the Queen
was closely aUied with Gaston and the Grand-Ecuyer, and
that she herself had invited his concurrence. " The Queen,
whom the Cardinal had persecuted in such a variety of ways,
did not doubt that, if the King should chance to die, that
minister would seek to deprive her of her children, in order
to assume the Regency himself. She secretly instigated
De Thou to seek the Duke de Bouillon with persevering
entreaties. She asked the latter whether, in the event of
the King's death, he would promise to receive her and her
two children in his stronghold of Sedan, beheving — so firmly
persuaded was she of the evU designs of the Cardinal, and
of his power — that there was no other place of safety for
them throughout the realm of France." De Thou further
told the Duke de BouUlon that smce the King's ilhiess the
Queen and the Duke d'Orleans were very closely aUied, and
that it was through Cinq Mars that their aUiance had been
brought about. Now, where the Queen was so' deeply
impHcated it was not Hkely that Mdme. de Chevreuse would
stand aloof. A friend of RicheHeu, whose name has not
come down to us, but who must have been perfectly weU
informed, does not hesitate to place Mdme. de Chevreuse
as weU as the Queen amongst those who then endeavoured
to overthrow RicheHeu. "M. le Grand," he writes to the
Cardinal,* " has been urged to his wicked designs by the
* Archives des Affaires EtrangSres ; Feance, torn. CI.

28 Political IVomen.
Queen-mother, by her daughter (Henrietta Maria), by the
Queen of France, by Mdme. de Chevreuse, by Montagu,
and other Enghsh Papists." At length the Cardmal, on
an early day in June, 1642, retired to Tarascon, ostensibly
for the sake of his health, but doubtless for safety also,
accompanied by his two bosom friends, Mazarin and
Chavigny, and the faithful regiments of his guards. Find
ing himself surrounded by peril On all sides, and represent
ing to Louis XIIL the gravity of the situation, he cited
that which had been alleged of Mdme. de Chevreuse as
amongst the most striking indications of the truth of what
he stated.*
But what was the party in fact then conspiring against
Richelieu ? Was it not the party of former coahtions — of
the League, of Austria, and of Spain ? And Mdme.
Chevreuse at Brussels, through her connection with the
Duke de Lorraine, the Queen of England, the Chevalier de
Jars at Rome, the Mmister Ohvarez at Madrid — was she
not one of the great motive powers of that party ? When,
therefore, such machmery was found to be again in activity,
it was quite reasonable to suspect the hand of Mdme. de
Chevreuse in all its movements.
The gathering cloud that now lowered so thick and
threatening above the head of RicheHeu seemed pregnant
with inevitable destruction to his power and life. But ere
long his eagle glance pierced through the overshadowing
gloom, and the aim of Cinq Mars' dark intrigue became
clearly revealed to his far-seeing introspection. A treachery,
the secret of which has remained unpenetrable to every
research made during the last two centuries, caused the
* Archives des Affaires :Gtrang6res ; FEANCE,tom. cii. Inedited Memoir
of Richelieu.

Political Women. " 29
treaty concluded with Spain through the intervention of
FontraiUes, and bearing the signatures of Gaston, Cinq
Mars, and the Duke de BouiUon, to fall into his hands.
From that instant the Cardinal felt certain of victory.
He knew Louis XIII. thoroughly; he conjectured that he
might in some access of his morbid and changeful humour
have uttered reproachful words against his Minister in the
favourite's ear — even expressed a wish to be rid of hun, as
did our first Plantagenet when tired of the despotism of
Thomas a Becket — and had perhaps Hstened to strange
proposals for effecting such object. But the Cardinal knew
right well also to what extent Louis was a king and a
Frenchman, and devoted by self-interest to their common
system. He despatched, therefore, Chavigny in all haste
from Narbonne with irrefragable evidence of the treaty
made with Spain, Louis, thunderstricken, could scarcely
believe his own eyes. He sank into a gloomy reverie, out
of which he emerged only to give way to bursts of indigna
tion against the favourite who could thus abuse his con
fidence and consph'e with the foreigner. It was needless to
inflame his anger, he was the first to caU for an exemplary
punishment. Not for a day, not for an hour, did his heart
soften towards the youthful culprit who had been so dear to
him. He thought only of his crime, and signed without an
instant's hesitation his death-warrant. If Louis the Just
spared the Duke de BouUlon, it was merely to acquire
Sedan. If he pardoned his brother Gaston, he at the same
time dishonoured him by depriving him of aU authority in
the State. Upon a report spread by a sers'ant of FontraiUes,
and which FontraiUes' memoirs fuUy confirm, his suspicions
were directed towards the Queen ; and no one afterwards
could divest his mind of the conviction that in this instance.

30 Political Women.
as in the affair of Chalais, Anne of Austria had an under
standing with his brother, the Duke d'Orleans. What
would he have done had he perused the statement of Fon
traiUes, the Duke de Bouillon's memoirs, a letter of
Turenuc, and the declaration of La Rochefoucauld ? Their
united testimony is so concordant that it is altogether
irresistible. The Queen racked her brains to exorcise this
fresh storm, and to persuade the King and Richelieu of her
innocence. Anne went much farther; she did not confine
herself to falsehood and dissimulation. Mcmiccd by immi
nent danger, she went so far as to repudiate that courageous
friend who had been so long and steadfastly devoted to her.
Had fortune declared in her favour she would have em
braced the Duchess as a deliverer. Vanquished and dis
armed, she abandoned her. As she had protested iu terms
of horror against the conspiracy that had failed, her two
young, imprudent, and ill-starred accomplices. Cinq Mai's
and De Thou, mounted the scaffold without breathing her
name. Finding also both the King and RicheHeu violently
exasperated against Mdme. de Chevreuse, and firmly
resolved to reject the renewed entreaties of her family to
obtain her recall, Anne of Austria, far from interceding for
her faithful adherent, warmly sided with her enemies ; and
further, to indicate the change in her own sentiments, and
seem to applaud that which she could not prevent, she
asked as an especial favour that the Duchess might be
estranged from her person, and even from France. " The
Queen," wrote Chavigny, RicheHeu's Minister for Foreign
Affairs, " has pointedly asked me if it were true that Mdme.
de Chevreuse would retm-n; and, without waitmg for a
reply, she signified to me that she should be vexed to find
her presently in France ; that she now saw the Duchess

Political Women. 31
in her proper light; and she commanded me to pray
His Eminence on her part, if he had any mind to favour
Mdme. de Chevreuse, that it might be done without granting
her permission to return to France. I assured her Majesty
that she should have satisfaction on that point." *
Poor Marie de Rohan ! Her heart already bled from
many wounds, but this last was the " unkindest cut of all."
Her position had indeed become frightful, and calculated to
sink her to the lowest depth of despair. No hope of seeing
her native land again, her princely chateau, her children,
her favourite daughter Charlotte ! Deriving scarcely any
thing from France, deeply in debt, and with credit ex
hausted, she found herself entirely at the end of her
resources. How thoroughly did the banished woman then
reaHse the woes of exUe — how hard it is to cHmb and
descend the stranger's stair, experience the hoUowness of
his promise, and the arrogance of his commiseration. And,
finally, as though fated to drain her cup of bitterness to the
last drop, to learn that she, her long-loved bosom friend
and royal mistress, who owed her, at the very least, a sUent
fidelity, had openly ranged herself on the side of fortune and
RicheHeu !
In a condition of mental torture the most acute, resulting
from such accumulated misfortune, Madame de Chevreuse
remained for several months with no other support than
that of her innate high-souled courage. At length, towards
the close of that eventful year, the golden grooves of change
rung out a joyous pasan to gladden the heart of the much-
enduring exUe. Suddenly Marie — all Europe — heard with
a throb that the inscrutable, iron-handed man of aU the
human race most dreaded alike by States as by individuals,
* Archives des Affaires Etrangeres, Feance, torn. CI.

32 Political Women,
had yielded to a stronger power than his own, and had
closed his eyes m death (December 4, 1642). Within a few
short months afterwards the King also, whose regal power
he had consoUdated at such a cost in blood and suffering,
foUowed the great statesman to the tomb ; having entrusted
the Regency, very much against his will, to the Queen, but
controlled by a CouncU, over which presided as Prime
Minister the man most devoted to Richelieu's system — his
closest friend, confidant, and creature — Jules Mazarui.
A passage in the funeral oration on Louis XIII. summed
up briefly but significantly the result of RicheHeu's gigantic
efforts to consoHdate the regal power. " Sixty- three kings,"
it said, " had preceded him in rule of the realm, but he
alone had rendered it absolute, and what aU collectively
had been impotent to achieve in the course of twelve cen
turies for the grandeur of France, he had accompHshed in
the short space of thirty- three years." It was against that
absolute power incarnate in Richelieu, which from the steps
of the throne hurled men to the earth with its bolts rather
than governed them, that Mazarin was destined later to
encoimter the reaction of the Fronde.
Distrustful of leaving Anne of Austria in uncontrolled
possession of regal authority, Louis by his last wUl and
testament had placed royalty, including his brother Gaston
as Heutenant-general of the realm, in a manner imder a
commission. And further, Louis did not beheve that he
could ensure quiet to the State after his death without con-
firmmg and perpetuating, so far as in him lay, the perpetual
exUe of Madame de Chevreuse.
As the pupU and confidential friend of RicheHeu, Mazarin
had imbibed both that statesman's and the late king's
opinions and sentiments touching the mfluence of that

Political Women, 33
eminently dangerous woman. Though he had never seen
her hitherto, he was not the less well acquainted with her
by repute : dreading her mortaUy, and cherishing a Hke
antipathy to her friend Chateauneuf. He knew the Duchess
to be as seductive as she was talented, experienced and
com-ageous in party strife — an instance of which was that
she could sway entirely a man of such ambition and capa
city as the former Keeper of the Seals. Attached, more
over, in secret to Lorraine, to Austria, and to Spain, aU
this was as absolutely incompatible with the exclusive
favour to which he aspired at the hands of his royal mis
tress as it was with all his diplomatic and mihtary designs.
The solemn injunctions of the late king's wiU, whUe de
nouncing Madame de Chevreuse and- Chateauneuf as the
two most iUustrious victims of the close of his reign, em
bodied also the, heads of the poHcy which it was that
monarch's wish should be continued by RicheHeu's suc
cessor. "Forasmuch," ran the will, "that for weighty
reasons, important to the welfare of our State, we found
ourselves compeUed to deprive the Sieur de Chateauneuf of
the post of Keeper of the Seals of France, and have him
sent to the Castle of Angouleme, in which he has remained
by our command up to the present time, we wUl and intend
that the said Sieur de Chateauneuf remain in the same
state in which he is at present, in the said Castle of
Angoulesme, untU after the peace be concluded and exe
cuted ; under charge, nevertheless, that he shaU not then
be set at Hberty save by the order of the Queen-Regent,
under the advice of her Council, which shaU appoint a place
to which he shaU retire, within the realm or without the
reahn, as may be judged best. And as our design is to take
foresight of aU such subjects as may possibly iu some way
VOL. I. D

34 Political Women,
or other disturb the precautionary arrangements which we
have made to preserve the repose and safety of our realm,
the knowledge that we have of the bad conduct of the Lady
Duchess de Chevreuse, of the artifices which she has em
ployed up to this moment without the kingdom with our
enemies, made us judge it fitting to forbid her, as we do,
entrance into our kingdom during the war : desiring even
that after the peace be concluded and executed she may
not return into our kingdom, save only under the orders of
the said Lady Queen-Regent, with the advice of the said
Council, under charge, nevertheless, that she shall not
either take up her abode or be in any place near to the
Court or to the said Queen-Regent."
Within a few days only after the decease of Louis XIII.
that same Parliament which had enroUed his will reformed
it. The Queen-Regent was freed from every fetter and
restriction, and invested with almost absolute sovereignty ;
the ban was removed from the proscribed couple so solemnly
denounced, Chateauneui's prison doors were thrown open,
and Madame de Chevreuse quitted Brussels triumphantly,
with a cortege of twenty carriages, filled with lords and
ladies of the highest rank in that Court, to return once
more to France and to the side of her royal friend and
mistress.

CHAPTER IV.
return op MADAME DE CHEVREUSE TO COURT.
After ten years' absence from the scene of her former
triumphs, social and political, did the briUiant Duchess
then once more find herself safe and free in France. The
Gazette de Renaudot — the Moniteur of that day — recording
the return of Mada,me de Chevreuse, on the 14th of June,
1643, remarks * : — " During such long exile, this princess
has manifested what an elevated mind like hers can do, in
spite of all those vicissitudes of fortune which her con
stancy has surmounted. The Duchess went to pay homage
to their Majesties, during which visit she received so many
tokens of affection from the Queen-Regent, and gave her in
return such proofs of her zeal in everything relating to her
service, and so much resignation to her wiU, that it indeed
appears that length of time, distance, or thorny asperities
can only prevaU over common minds. Hence the great
train of visitors from this Court to her daily, and for which
her spacious hotel scarcely affords room, does not excite so
much wonder as the fact which has been the subject of
remark, that the fatigue consequent upon long journeys and
the rigour of adverse fortune have worked no change in her
magnanimity, nor — which is the more extraordinary — in
her beauty." * No. Ixxvii. p. 579.

2 6 Political Women,
Makmg due aUowance for the inflated diction of the com
plaisant Court newswriter, let us endeavour to approach
somewhat nearer to the truth.
Madame de Chevreuse had then entered upon her forty-
third year. Though stiU surprisingly weU-preserved, her
beauty, tried by adversity, was visibly on the decline. The
mcHnation to gaUantry stiU existed, but subdued, poHtics
havmg gained the supremacy. She had formed the ac
quaintance of, and held poHtical relations with, the most
celebrated statesmen in Europe. She had figured at almost
aU its Courts, the strength and weakness of its several
Governments were known to her, and in her wanderings,
having seen "men and cities," she had acquired a large
experience. The tried favourite hoped to find Anne of
Austria the same as she had left her — averse to business,
and very wilhng to allow herself to be led by those for
whom she had a particular affection; and as Madame de
Chevreuse had been in her youthful days paramount in the
Queen's affection, she fully expected to exercise over her
that twofold ascendancy which love and capacity would
jointly give. More ambitious for her friends than for her
self, she saw them already rewarded for their long sacrifices,
replacing everywhere the creatures of RicheHeu, and at
their head, in the highest post, as first minister, him who
for her sake had broken with the triumphant Cardinal, and
had endured an imprisonment of ten tedious years. She
did not care much about Mazarin, with whom she had no
acquaintance, whom she had never seen, and who appeared
to her unsupported either by the Court or the French
nation, whilst she felt herself sustained by all that was
iUustrious, powerful, and accredited therein. She beheved
that she could make sure of the Duke d'Orleans thi-ough

Political Women, 2)7
his wife, the beautiful Margaret, sister of Charles of Lor
raine. She could dispose almost at wiU of the Houses of
Rohan and Lorraine, particularly of the Duke de Guise
and the Duke d'Elbeuf, like herself just returned from
Flanders. She reckoned upon the Vend6mes, upon the
Duke d'Epernon, upon La VieuviUe, her old companions
in exUe in England ; upon the HI- treated BomUons, upon
La Rochefoucauld, whose disposition and pretensions were
so well known to her ; upon Lord Montagu, who had been
her slave, and at that moment possessed the entire confi
dence of Anne of Austria ; upon La Chatre, the friend of
the Vend6mes, and Colonel-General of the Swiss Guards ;
upon TrevUle, upon Beringhen, upon Jars, upon La Porte,
who were aU emerging from exUe, prison, and disgrace.
Among the women, her young stepmother and her sister-
in-law seemed secure — Madame de Montbazon and Madame
de Guemend, the two greatest beauties of the time, who
drew after them a numerous crowd of old and young
adorers. She knew also that among the first acts of the
Regent had been the recaU to her side of the two noble
victims of RicheHeu — Madame de Senece and Madame de
Hautefort, whose virtue and piety had consph'ed so bene
ficially with other influences, and had given them an inesti
mable weight in the household of Anne of Austria. All
those calculations seemed accurate, aU those hopes weU-
founded; and Madame de Chevreuse left Brussels firmly
persuaded that she was about to re-enter the Louvre as a
conqueress. She deceived herself : the Queen was already
changed, or very nearly so.
To show due honour to her former favourite, however,
Anne of Austria despatched La Rochefoucauld to greet and
escort her homewards ; but before he set out she charged

38 Political Women,
him to inform the Duchess of the altered disposition in
which she would find her royal mistress. During that
audience Rochefoucauld did his utmost to reinstate his
J charming friend and close ally in the Queen's good graces.
"1 spoke to her," says he, "with more freedom perhaps
than was becoming. I set before her Madame de Chev-
reuse's fidehtj'-, her long-continued services, and the seve
rity of the misfortunes which they had entaUed upon her.
I entreated her to consider of what fickleness she would
be thought capable, and what interpretation might be
placed upon such inconsiderateness if she should prefer
Cardinal Mazarin to Madame de Chevreuse. Our conver
sation was long and stormj', and I saw clearly that I had
exasperated her." He .then started to meet the Duchess
on the road from Brussels, and found her at Roye, whither
Montagu had ah'eady preceded him. Montagu had tra
velled to Roye to place Mazarin's homage at the feet of
Madame de Chevreuse, with the view of bringmg about at
any cost an union and identity of policy between the old
and the new favourite. He was no longer the gay and
sprightly Walter Montagu, the friend of HoUand and Buck
ingham, the enamoured knight ever ready to break a lance
against all comers for a glance of the bright eyes of Madame
de Chevreuse. Time had changed him as weU as others :
he had become a bigot and a devotee, and already contem
plated taking orders in the Church of Rome. He stiU
remained, however, attached to the object of his former
adoration, but above aU he belonged to the Queen, and
consequently resigned to Mazarin. La Rochefoucauld—
•ever ready to ascribe to himself the chief share in any
undertakmg in which he figured, as weU as the character
of a great poHtician— asserts that he entreated Madame de

Political Women. 39
Chevreuse not to attempt at first to govern the Queen, but
to endeavour solely to regain in Anne's i^ind and heart
that place of which it had been sought to deprive her, and
to put herself in a position in which she would be able to
protect or ruin the Cardinal, according to conduct or cir
cumstances emanating from himself.
The Duchess listened attentively to the advice of both
her old friends, promised to follow it, and did so in fact, but
in her own pecuHar way, and in that of the interest of the
party 6he had so long served, and which she would not
abandon. As Anne of Austria seemed much pleased at
seeing the noble wanderer again, and gave her a warm
reception, Marie did not perceive any difference in the
Queen's sentiments, and flattered herself that by constant
assiduousness she would ere long resume that sway over
the Regent's mind she had formerly exercised.
Operating against this not unreasonable expectation of
Madame de Chevreuse, Mazarin had a silent but potent
ally in the newly-awakened inclination of Anne for repose
and a tranquil life. The first draughts of almost supreme
power tasted by the long-oppressed Queen were not yet
embittered by faction and anarchy. In bygone days, insult,
neglect, and persecution had stirred her at intervals into
mental activity, and urged her upon dangerous courses;
but now, having obtained aU she aimed at, happy, and
beginning to form attachments, she entertained a dread of
troublesome adventures and hazardous enterprises. She
therefore feared Madame de Chevreuse quite as much as
she loved her. The astute Cardinal anxiously strove to
foster such distrust. He looked for support from the
Princess de Conde, then high in the Queen's favour, both
through her own merit as well as that of the Prince her

40 Pohtical Women.
husband, but more than aU through the brUHant exploits of
her son, the Duke d'Enghien ; through the services also of
her son-in-law the Duke de LongueviUe, who had, with
honourable distinction, commanded the armies of Italy and
Germany, and by her recently-married daughter, Madame
de LongueviUe, already the darhng of the salons and the
Court. The Princess, like Queen Anne, had in the heyday of
her beauty been fond of homage and gaUantry, but had now
grown serious, and displayed a somewhat Hvely piety. She
held Madame de Chevreuse in aversion, and detested Cha
teauneuf, who, in 1632, at Toulouse, had presided at the
trial and condemnation of her brother, Henri de Montmo
rency. She therefore had striven, in concert with Mazarin,
to destroy or at least weaken Madame de Chevreuse's hold
upon the Queen. Armed with the last wiU of Louis XIIL,
they had made it appear something like a fault in the
Queen's eyes to disregard it so soon and so entirely. They
had given her to understand that former days and associa
tions could never return; that the amusements and pas
sions of early youth were but " evU accompaniments " * of
a later period of life ; that now she was before all things a
mother and a Queen; that Madame de Chevreuse, dissi
pated and carried away by passion, and cherishing the same
inclination for gaUantry and idle vanity as hitherto, was no
longer worthy of her confidence; that she had brought
good fortune to no one ; and that in lavishing wealth and
honom- upon the Duchess the debt of gratitude she owed
her would be sufficiently discharged.
* Madame de MotteviUe, tom. i. p. 162.— "Mauvais accompagnements."

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.
ANNE OF Austria's prime minister and his policy.
And now what was the actual position of Mazarin on
succeeding to power in 1643 ?
RicheHeu had died admired and abhorred. The people,
glad to be delivered from so heavy a yoke, obeyed with joy
the incipient rule of the Queen-Regent. The courtiers
were at first enchanted with a Government that refused
nothing asked of it. It appeared, as one of the number
said, that there were no more than five Httle words in the
French language : La reine est si bonne .' " * The State
prisons threw open their gates ; the rights of parHaments
were respected; the princes of the blood and the great
nobles were restored to theu' governorships. There was
for a season one unanimous concert of praise and thanks
giving. But when the princes and parHaments were de
sirous, as before Richelieu's rule, of participating in the
general direction of the State, and especiaUy in the distri
bution of place and patronage, great was the surprise of
both at finding a steady resistance on the part of the Queen-
Regent. To see her manifest a disposition to govern with
out them was looked upon as something scandalous. Every
attempt she made thenceforward to retain a power which
* De Pictz Memoirs, Petitot CoUection.

44 Political Women.
they evaded, or to repossess herself of that which she had
imprudently suffered to escape from her grasp, seemed to
them nothing less than a continuation of the odious system
of RicheHeu. Their exasperation was increased to the
highest degree, therefore, when they beheld her give her
entire confidence to a foreigner, to a Cardinal, to a creature
of Richelieu. By that triple title Mazarin was equaUy
hateful to the great nobles, the members of parhament,
and the middle class. The tyranny of RicheHeu had in the
end attained to something noble by the high-handed heed
lessness of aU his acts. If the people were to be trampled
on, it was a species of consolation that theu' oppressor was
feared by others as weU as themselves. But that the
oppression of the doomed French nation was to be con
tinued by a more ignoble hand was altogether intolerable.
Frenchmen had begun to ask one another, who was this
Mazarin who had come to rule over them ? He could not
— ^Hke RicheHeu — boast of his high birth, of descent from
a long line of noble ancestors — Frenchmen. Poets and
romancers, ye whose imaginations dehght to dweU upon
sudden downfalls and rapid rises, mark weU that Httle lad
at play upon the SiciHan shore near the town of Mazzara !
Springing from the lowest of the plebeian class, liis family
have not even a surname. He is the son of one Pierre, a
fisherman, whose humble hut stands yonder beneath the
cHff. But a day wiU come when that lowly-born lad, join
ing his baptismal name to that of the town which sheltered
his cradle, wiU become Jules de Mazarin, robed in the
Roman purple, quartering his shield with the consular
fasces of Julius Cfesar, governing France, and through her
preparing and influencing the destinies of entire Europe.
It was not, however, by easy steps that Richelieu's

Political Women. 45
disciple and successor obtamed a firm grasp of that plenary
power which the master mind of the former had consoUdated
and long wielded so grandly and terribly. The Queen
herself at the commencement of the Regency had not yet
renounced her former friendships. During a considerable
portion of her married Hfe Anne had impatiently endured
the slights and disparagements to which she was so long
subjected, both by her husband and his Minister. Through
engaging in divers dangerous and unsuccessful enterprises,
she had been deprived of aU influence, and was a queen only
in name. But, a woman and a Spaniard, she had descended
to dissimulation, and in that " ugly but necessary virtue " *
made rapid jyogress. Up to the time of RicheHeu's death
she had played a double game — made partisans in secret,
with the object of subverting the Cardinal's power, whUst
feigning the semblance of friendship towards him, and did
not scruple to humUiate herself on occasions, in order to
carry her point. After that great man's decease, through
rare patience, great caution, and a persistent line of conduct,
she ultimately attained that for which she had been wiUing
to make any and every sacrifice — the Regency. During the
King's last iUness, the mistrusted Queen an4 wife had pro
fited by Mazarin's unhoped-for service, as Prime Minister,
ia prevaUing over the unwiUingness of the dying King to
appoint her custodian of his son, and Regent dm-ing his
minority. She regarded this, therefore, as a first and most
important service on the part of Mazarin towards her, and
for which she felt proportionately grateful. Such was the
Cardinals first stepping-stone to the good graces of Anne
of Austria, and his twofold talent both as a laborious and
indefatigable statesman and a consummate courtier, speedily
* Madame de MotteviUe.

46 Political Women.
helped to secure for him her entire confidence. The sin
gular pel.'sonal resemblance he bore to that desperate ena-
morado of her early womanhood, the brilliant Buckingham,
may probably also have served him as a favourable prestige.
On her accession to power Anne did not manifest much
firmness of character. NaturaUy indolent, she disHked the
drudgery attendant upon business detaUs, and hence con
tinued through convenience the services of a man who, by
taking off her hands the wearisome routine of State affairs,
allowed her to reign at her ease.
Mazarin, moreover, had never been displeasing to her.
He had begun to ingratiate himself during the month
preceding the death of Louis XIIL,* and she named him
Prime Minister about the middle of May — partly through
personal Hkhig, but more through poHtical necessity. Far
from appearing to resemble the impassive and imperious
Richelieu, Anne perhaps might have recalled with agreeable
emotion the words of her deceased consort when he first
presented Mazarin to her (in 1639 or 1640) — "He will
please you, madame, because he bears a striking resemblance
to Buckingham." By degrees the liking increased, and grew
sufficiently strong to resist every assault from his enemies.
At the same time the Minister to whom the Queen owed so
much, instead of dictating to and presuming to govern her,
was ever at her feet, and prodigal of that attention, respect,
and tenderness to which she had been hitherto a stranger.
It is a delicate matter to investigate with exactitude the
means by which Mazarin obtained entire sway over the
Queen-Regent, and one which La Rochefoucauld scarcely
touches upon; but it is too interesting a point in history to
be left in the dark, and thereby to altogether disregard that
• Louis died May 14th, 1643.

Political Women. 47
which first constituted the minister's strength, and soon
afterwards became the centre and key of the situation. After
a long season of oppression, regal powers and splendour
gilded the hours of Anne of Austria, and her Spanish pride
exacted the tribute of respect and homage. Mazarin was
prodigal of both. He cast himself at her feet in order to
reach her heart. In her heart of hearts she was not the less
touched by the grave accusation brought against him that he
was a foreigner, for was not she also a foreigner ? Perhaps
that of itself proved the source of a mysterious attraction to
her, and she may have found it a singular pleasure to con
verse with her Prime Minister in her mother tongue as a
compatriot and friend. To aU this must be added the mind
and manners of Mazarin — supple and insinuating, always
master of himself, of an unchangeable serenity amidst the
gravest circumstances, full of confidence in his good star,
.and diffusing that confidence around him. It must also be
remembered that Cardinal although he was, Mazarin was not
a priest ; that imbued with the maxims which formed the
code of gaUantry of her native land, Anne of Austria had
always loved to please the other sex ; that she was then
forty-one and still beautiful, that her Prime Minister was of
the same age, that he was exceedingly weU-made and of a
most pleasing countenance, in which ^wesse was blended with
a certaki air of greatness. He had readUy recognised that
without ancestry, establishment, or support in France, and
surrounded by rivals and enemies, aU his strength centred
in the Queen. He apphed himself therefore above all things
to gahi her heart, as RicheHeu had tried before him ; and as
he happUy possessed far other means for attaining success
in that respect, the handsome and gentle-mannered Cardinal
eventuaUy succeeded. Once master of her heart, he easUy

48 Political Women.
directed the mind of Anne of Austria, and taught her the
difficult art of pursuing ever the same end by the aid of
conduct the most diverse, according to the difference of
circumstances. But favourable and indeed gracious as his royal mistress
had shown herself towards him personaUy, and apart from
any particular line of poHcy, at the outset of his premiership
Mazarin had nevertheless to contend against a formidable
host of enemies ; and not the least redoubtable among them
might be reckoned that intrepid poHtical lieroine the lately-
banished Duchess de Chevreuse. No sooner did she again
find herself at the side of Anne of Austria than the inde
fatigable Marie set to work with aU her characteristic dash,
spirit, and energy to attack RicheHeu's system and its
adherents, now directed by Mazarin.
The first point she sought to carry was the return of
Chateauneuf to office. " The good sense and long experi
ence of M. de Chateauneuf," says La Rochefoucauld, "were
known to the Queen. He had imdergone a rigorous im
prisonment for his adhesion to her cause; he was firm,
decisive, loved the State, and more capable than anyone else
of re-estabhshing the old form of government which Riche
Heu had first begun to destroy. FHmly attached to Mdme.
de Chevreuse, she knew sufficiently-weU how to govern him.
She therefore urged his return with much warmth."
Chateauneuf had already obtained as a royal boon that the
"rude and miserable condition " ofclose incarceration under
which he had groaned for ten years should be changed for a
compulsory residence at one of his country houses. Mdme.
de Chevreuse demanded the termmation of this mitigated
exUe, that she might once more behold him free who had
endured such extremities for the Queen's sake and her own.

Political Women. 49
Mazarin saw that he must yield, but only did so tardily,
never appearing himself to repulse Chateauneuf, but always
aUeging the paramount necessity of concUiating the Conde
family, and especially the Princess, who, as already said,
bore bitter enmity towards him as the judge of her brother,
Henri de Montmorency. Chateauneuf was therefore re
caUed, but with that reservation accorded to the last clause
of the King's wiU, that he should not appear at Court, but
reside at Ms own house of Montrouge, near Paris, where
his friends might visit him.
The next step was to transfer him thence to some minis
terial office. Chateauneuf was no longer a young man, but
neither his energy nor his ambition had deserted him, and
Mdme. de Chevreuse made it a point of honour to reinstate
him in the post of Keeper of the Seals, which he had
formerly held and lost through her, and which aU Queen
Anne's old friends now saw with indignation occupied by
one of the most detested of RicheHeu's creatures, Pierre
Seguier. This last, however, was a man of capacity —
laborious, weU-informed and full of resources. To these
quahfications he added a remarkable suppleness, which
made him very useful and accommodating to a Prime.
Minister. He moreover had the support of friends who
stood high in the Queen's favour, and was further strength
ened by the opposition of the Condes and the Bishop of
Beauvais to Chateauneuf. The Duchess perceivmg that it
was almost impossible to surmount so powerful an opposi
tion, took another way of arriving at the same end. She
contented herself with asking for the lowest seat in the
cabinet for her friend; weU knowing that once installed
therein, Chateauneuf would soon raanage aU the rest and
aggrandise his position.

50 Political Women.
At the same time that she strove to extricate from dis
grace the man upon whom rested aU her political hopes,
Madame de Chevreuse, not daring to attack Mazarin overtly,
insensibly undermined the ground beneath his feet, and
step by step prepared his ruin. Her experienced eye
enabled her promptly to perceive the most favourable point
of attack whence to assail the Queen, and the watchword
she passed was to fan and keep aUve to the utmost the
general feehng of reprobation which aU the proscribed, on
returning to France, had aroused and disseminated against
the memory of RicheHeu. This feeling was universal —
among the great famUies he had decimated or despoUed ;
— in the Church, too firmly repressed not to be unmindful
of its abasement; — in the Parliament, strictly confined to
its judicial functions, and aspiring to break through such
narrow Hmits. The same feeling was still ahve in the
Queen's bosom, who could not have forgotten the deep
humihation to which RicheHeu had subjected her, and the
fate for which he had probably reserved her. These tactics
succeeded, and on evesry side there arose against the late
violence and tyranny, and, by a rebound, against the crea
tures of RicheHeu, a storm so furious that Mazarm's utmost
ability was taxed to aUay it.
Madame de Chevreuse hkewise supplicated Anne of Aus
tria to repair the long-endured misfortunes of the Vend6me
princes, by bestowing upon them either the Admiralty, to
which an immense power was attached, or the government
of Brittany, which the head of the famUy, Csesar de Ven
dome, had formerly held — deriving it alike from the hand
of his father, Henry IV., and as the heritage of his father-
in-law, the Dulie de Mercosur. This was nothing less
than demanding the aggrandisement of an unfriendly house.

Political Women. 51
and at the same time the ruin of two famUies that had
served RicheHeu with the utmost devotion, and were best
capable of supporting Mazarin. The Mmister parried the
blow aimed at him by the Duchess by dint of address and
patience, never refusing, always eluding, and summoning
to his aid his grand aUy, as he termed it — Tune. Before
the return of Madame de Chevreuse he had found hunself
forced to win over the Vendomes, and to secure them in
his interest. On RicheHeu's death he had strenuously
contributed to obtain their recaU, and had since made
them every kind of advance ; but he soon perceived that he
could not satisfy them without bringing about his own
destruction. The Duke Csesar de Vendome, son of
Henry IV. and The Fair Gabrielle, had early carried his
pretensions to a great height, and had shown himself
restless and factious as a legitimate prince. He had passed
his Hfe in revolts and consph'acies, and in 1641 had been
compeUed to flee to England through suspicion of being
impHcated in an attempt to assassinate Richelieu. He did
not dare return to France until after the Cardinal's death ;
and, as may weU be imagined, he came back breathing the
direst vengeance. Against the ambition of the Vend6mes
Mazarin skilfully opposed that of the Condes, who were
inimical to the aggrandisement of a house too nearly rival
ling their own. But it was very difficult to retain Brittany
in the hands of its newly-appointed governor, the Marshal
La MeiUeraie, in face of the claim of a son of Henry the
Great, who had formerly held it, and demanded it back as
a sort of heirloom. Mazarin therefore resigned himself to
the sacriflce of La MeiUeraie, but he Hghtened it as much
as possible. He persuaded the Queen to assume to herself
the government of Brittany, and have only a Heut^naut- E 2'

5 2 Political Women.
general over it — a post, of course, beneath the dignity of
the Vendomes, and which would, therefore, remain in La
MeUleraie's hands. The latter could not take offence at
being second in power therein to the Queen; and to
arrange everything to the entire satisfaction of a person
of such importance, Mazarin solicited for him soon after
wards the title of duke, which the deceased King had, in
fact, promised the Marshal, and the reversion of the post
of Grand Master of the ArtiUery for his son — that same
son on whom subsequently Mazarin bestowed, with his own
name, the hand of his niece, the beautiful Hortense.
Mazarin was so much the less incHned to favour the
house of Vendome from having encountered a dangerous
rival in the Queen's good graces, in Vendome's youngest
son, Beaufort, a young, bold, and flourishing gaUant, who
displayed ostentatiously all the exterior signs of loyalty and
chivalry, and affected for Anne of Austria a passionate de
votion not Hkely to be displeasing. "He was taU, weU-
made, dexterous, and indefatigable in all warlike exercises,"
says La Rochefoucauld, " but artificial withal, and wanting
in truthfulness of character. Mentally he was heavy and
badly cultivated ; nevertheless he attained his objects cle
verly enough through the blunt coarseness of his manners.
He was of high but unsteady courage, and was not a Httle
envious and mahgnant." * De Retz does not, Hke La Roche
foucauld, accuse Beaufort of artificiaHty, but represents him
as presumptuous and of thorough incapacity. His portrait
of him, though over-coloured, Hke most others from the
coadjutor's pen, is sufficiently faithful, but at the com
mencement of the Regency, the defects of the Duke de
Beaufort had not fully declared themselves, and were less
* La Rochefoucauld.

Political Women.

53

conspicuous than his good quahties. Some few days before
her husband's death, Anne of Austria had placed her chil
dren under his charge — a mark of confidence that so elated
him that the young Duke conceived hopes which his
impetuosity hindered him from sufficiently disguising.
Indeed, these were presumed upon so far as to give offence
to the Queen ; and, as the height of inconsistency, he com
mitted at the same time the egregious folly [of pubHcly
enacting the led-captain in the rosy chains of the handsome
but decried Duchess de Montbazon. It was only, however,
by slow degrees that the Queen's Hking for him abated.
At first, she had proposed to confer upon him the post of
Grand-Ecuyer, vacant since the death of the unfortunate
Cinq-Mars, which would have kept him in close attendance
upon her, and was altogether a fitting appointment — for
Beaufort had nothing of the statesman in him ; with Httle
inteUect and no reticence, he was also averse to steady
application to business, and capable only of some bold and
violent course of action. The Duke had the folly to refuse
this post of Grand-Ecuyer, hoping for a better ; and then,
altering his mind when it was too late, he solicited it only
to incur disappointment.* The more his favour diminished,
the more his irritation increased, and it was not long ere
he placed himself at the head of the Cardinal's bitterest
enemies. Madame de Chevreuse hoped to be more fortunate in
securing the governorship of Havre for a very different
sort of person — for a man of tried devotedness and of a
* Mazarin himself has furnished this fact, otherwise unknown, in one
of his diaries {,Carnet, pp. 72, 73). The Cardinal-Minister was iu the habit
of jotting down the chief events of each day in these small memorandum
hooks {Cameis), which he kept in the pocket of his cassock.

54 Political Women.
rare and subtle intellect — La Rochefoucauld. She woidd
thereby recompense the services rendered to the Queen and
herself, strengthen and aggrandize one of the chiefs of the
Importants, and weaken Mazarin by depriving of an impor
tant government a person upon whom he had entire reH
ance — Richelieu's niece, the Duchess d'Aiguillon. The
Cardinal succeeded in rendering this manoeuvre abor
tive, without appearing to have any hand in it. And
herein, as in many other matters, the art of Mazarin was
to wear the semblance of merely confirming the Queen in
the resolves with which he inspired her.
In thus attributing tliese various designs, this connected
and consistent Hne of conduct, to Madame de Chevreuse, we
do not advance it as our own opinion, but as that of La
Rochefoucauld, who must have been perfectly weU informed.
He attributes it to her both in his own affairs and in those
of the Vendomes. Neither was Mazarin bhnd to the fact,
for more than once in his private notes we read these
words : — " My greatest enemies are the Vendomes and
Madame de Chevreuse, who urges them on." He teUs us
also that she had formed the project of marrying her
charming daughter Charlotte, then sixteen, to the Ven-
d6me's eldest son, the Duke de Mercoeur, whilst his brother
Beaufort should espouse the wealthy MademoiseUe d'Eper
non, who foUed these designs, and even greater stUl, by
throwing herself at four-and-twenty into a convent of Car
melites. These marriages, which would have reconcUed,
united, and strengthened so many great houses, mode
rately attached to the Queen and her mhiister, terrified
Richelieu's successor. He therefore sought to foil them by
every means in his power, and succeeded in prevaUuig
upon the Queen to frustrate them in an underhand way ;

Political Women. 55
having found that the union of MademoiseUe de Vendome
with the briUiant but restless Duke de Nemours had caused
him more than ordinary anxiety.
If the intricate detaUs of those counter intrigues of
Mazarin and Madame de Chevreuse be foUowed attentively,
we are at a loss to say to wliich of the two antagonists the
pahn for skUl, sagacity, and address should be given. WhUst
Mazarin was astute enough to make a certain amount of
sacrifice in order to reserve to himself the right of not
making greater — treatiag everyone with apparent consider
ation, rendering no one desperate, promising much, hold
ing back the least possible proprio motu of himself, and
surroimding Madame de Chevreuse herself with attention
and homage without suffering any Ulusion to beguUe him as
to the nature of her sentiments — she, on her part, paid him
back ia the same coin. La Rochefoucauld says that during
these mollia tempora, Madame de Chevreuse and Mazarin
actuaUy flirted with each other. The Duchess, who had
always intermingled gaUantry with poHtics, tried, as it
appears, the power of her charms upon the Cardinal. The
latter, on his side, failed not to lavish honeyed words, and
" essay oit meme quelque fois de lui faire croire qu'elle lui
donnoit de I'amour." * There were other ladies also, it
seems, who would not have been sorry to please the hand
some First Minister a Httle. Amongst these might be
numbered the Princess de Guemene,t one of the greatest
beauties of the French Court, who, certainly, if only one
half the stories related of her be true, was by no means of
a ferocious disposition in affairs of gaUantry. This lady,
* La Rochefoucauld, Memoirs, p. 383.
•|- Anne de Rohan, wife of M. de Gruemen^, eldest son of the Duke de
Montbazon, and brother of Madame de Chevreuse.

56 Political Women.
as weU as her husband, were both favourable to Mazarin,
in spite of aU the efforts of Madame de Montbazon, and
Madame de Chevreuse, her sister-in-law. It may be readUy
imagined that Mazarin devoted great attention to Madame
de Guemene, and did not fail to pay her a host of compH-
ments, as he did to Madame de Chevreuse ; but as he went
no further, the two gay ladies were at a loss to conceive what
so many compliments coupled with so much reserve meant.
They sometimes asked which of the two was reaUy the
object of his admiration ; and as he still made no further
advances at the same time that he continued liis gaUant
protestations, "these ladies," says Mazarin, " si esamina la
mia vita e si conclude che io sia impotente." *
Pohtical intrigue had become such an affair of fashion
among the Court dames of that day, that those of the
highest rank made no scruple of bringing into play all the
artiUery of theh* wit and beauty whenever they could con
tribute to the success of their enterprises. StiU endowed
with those two potent gifts to an eminent degree, Madame
de Chevreuse brought all her various infiuences into perfect
combination, and had grown so passionately fond of the
fierce excitement of conspiring, that love was to her now
merely a means and political victory the end. She devoted
literally her entire existence to it, Hving in the confidence
and intimacy of the Vendomes and other noble perturbators
of the hour. Her activity, her penetration, her energy
obtained for her among the party of the Importants the
importance she coveted. It was not long, therefore, ere she
begun to give Mazarm cause for grave anxiety. During the
encounters resulting from this strenuous antagonism, recon-
cUiations occasionally took place, in which even the Cardi-
* Camet, iii. p. 39.

Political Women. 57
nal's coldness, caution, and his laborious occupation, could
not, it is said, place him beyond reach of the Duchess's irresis
tible fascinations. But the latter, well aware that the role of
Mazarin's mistress would not give to her grasp the helm of
the State, which he reserved exclusively to himself, pre
ferred, therefore, rather to remain his enemy, and figure
at the head and front of the faction antagonistic to his
government. This flirting and skirmishing had gone on for some time,
but at last natural feeling prevaUed over poHtical reticence.
Madame de Chevreuse grew impatient at obtaining words
only, and scarcely anything serious or effective. She had,
it is true, received some money for her own use, either in
repayment of that which she had formerly lent the Queen, or
for the discharge of debts contracted dming exUe and in the
interest of Anne of Austria. On returning to Court, one
of her earhest steps was to withdraw her friend and protege,
Alexandre de Campion, from the service of the Vendomes,
and place him in a suitable position in the Queen's, house
hold. Chateauneuf had been reinstated in his former post of
Chancellor (des Ordres du Roi), and later his governorship of
Touraine was restored to him on the death of the Marquis
de Gevres, who feU at the siege of Thionville ; but the
Duchess considered that that was doing very Httle for a man
of Chateauneuf's merit— for him who had staked fortune
and Hfe, and undergone ten years' imprisonment. She
readily perceived, therefore, that the perpetual delay of
favours ever promised, ever deferred in the instances of the
Vendomes and La Rochefoucauld, were so many artifices of
the Cardinal, and that she was his dupe. This conviction
put the spirited partisan upon her mettle. She began to
titter, to mock, and to expostulate by turns, and sometimes

58 Political Women.
twitted the minister in pert and derisive terms. This, how
ever, betrayed a want of her ordinary precaution, and only
served to fill Mazarin's quiver with shafts to be used against
herself. He made the Queen beheve that Madame de
Chevreuse sought to rule her with a rod of iron ; that she
had changed her mask, but not her character ; that she was
ever the same impulsive and restless person, who, with aU
her talent and devotedness, had never worked aught but
mischief around her, and was only instrumental in ruining
others as weU as herself. By degrees, underhand and
hidden as it might be, war between the Duchess and the
Cardinal declared itself unmistakably. The commence
ment and progress of this curious struggle for supremacy has
been admirably depicted by La Rochefoucauld ; and, whUe
the autograph memoranda of Mazarin cast a fresh flood of
Hght upon it, they enhance infinitely Madame de Chevreuse's
abUity by revealing to what an extent that Minister dreaded
her. In every page of these invaluable carnets he indicates her
as being the head and mainspring of the Importants. " It
is Madame de Chevreuse," he writes repeatedly, " who stirs
them aU up. She endeavours to strengthen the hand's of
the Vendomes ; she tries to win over every member of the
house of Lorraine ; she has already gained the Duke de
Guise, and through him she strives to cany away from me
the Duke d'Elbeuf." " She sees clearly through everything;
she has guessed very accurately that it is I who have secretlj'-
persuaded the Queen to hinder the restoration of the govern
ment of Brittany to the Duke de Vendome. She has said
so to her father, the Duke de Montbazon, and to Montagu.
She has quarreUed with Montagu, m fact, because he raises
an obstacle to Chateauneuf by supporting Seguier."

Political Women, 59
" Nothing discourages Madame de Chevreuse ; she entreats
the Vendomes to have patience, and sustains them by pro
mising a speedy change of scene." " Madame de Chevreuse
never relinquishes the hope of displacing me. The reason
she gives for this is, that when the Queen refused to put
Chateauneuf at the head of the government, she stated that
she could not do it immediately, as she must have some
consideration for me, whence Madame de Chevreuse con
cludes that the Queen has much esteem and Hking for
Chateauneuf, and that when I shall be no longer where I
am, the post is secured for her friend. Hence the hopes
and Ulusions with which they are buoyed up." " The
Duchess and her friends assert that the Queen wUl shortly
send for Chateauneuf; and by so doing they abuse the
minds of all, and prompt those who are looking to their
future interests to pay court to her and seek her friendship.
They make an excuse for the Queen's delay ia giving him
my place, by saying that she has stUl need of me for some
short time." " I am told that Madame de Chevreuse
secretly dh'ects Madame de Vendome (a pious person who
has great influence over the bishops and convents), and gives
her instructions, in order that she may not faU into error,
and that aU the machinery used against me may thoroughly
answer its purpose." From this last entry it is clear that
Madame de Chevreuse, without being in the smallest degree
possible a devote, knew right weU how to make use of the
parti devot, which then exercised great influence over Anne
of Austria's mind, and gave serious uneasiness to Mazarin.
The Prime Minister's chief difficulty was to make Queen
Anne — the sister of the King of Spain, and herself of a
piety thoroughly Spanish — understand that it was necessary,
notwithstanding the engagements which she had so often

6o Political Women.
contracted, notwithstanding the instances of the Court of
Rome and those of the heads of the episcopate, to continue
the alhance with the Protestants of Germany and Holland,
and to persist in only consentmg to a general peace in which
the aUies of France should equally find theu- account asweU
as that country itself. On the other side, it was contmuaUy
dinned into the Queen's ear that it was practicable to make
a separate treaty of peace, and negotiate singly with Spam
on very fitting conditions, that by such means the scandal
of an impious war between " the very Christian " and " the
very CathoHc " King would cease, and a relief be afforded to
France very much needed. Such was the policy of the
Queen's old friends. It was at least specious, and reckoned
numerous partisans among men the most inteUigent and
attached to the interests of their coimtry. Mazarin, the
disciple and successor of RicheHeu, had higher views, but
which it was not easy at first to make Anne of Austria com
prehend. By degrees, however, he succeeded, thanks to his
judicious efforts, renewed incessantly and with infinite art ;
thanks especially to the victories of the Duke d'Enghien —
for in all worldly affairs success is a very eloquent and right
persuasive advocate. The Queen, however, remained for a
considerable interval undecided, and it may be seen by Maza
rin's own memoranda that during the latter part of May, as
weU as through the whole of June and July, the Cardinal's
greatest effort was to induce the Regent not to abandon her
alhes, but to firmly carry on the war. Madame de Chev
reuse, with Chateauneuf, defended the old party poHcy, and
strove to bring over Anne of Austria to it. "Madame de
Chevreuse," wrote Mazarin, " causes the Queen to be told
from aU quarters that I do not wish for peace, that I hold
the same maxims as Cardinal Richelieu on the point — that

Political Women. 6i
it IS both easy and necessary to make a separate treaty of
peace." On several occasions he made indignant protesta
tion against such arrangement, pomting out the danger with
which it was fraught, and that it would render ineffectual
those sacrifices which France had for so many years made.
"Madame de Chevreuse," he exclaimed, "would ruin
France ! " He knew weU that, intimately associated with
Gaston, her old accomplice m all the plots framed against
RicheHeu, she had won him over to the idea of a separate
peace by holding out the hope of a marriage between his
daughter Mademoiselle de Montpensier and the Arch-duke,
.which would have brought him the government of the Low
Countries. He knew that she had preserved aU her influence
with the Duke de Lorraine ; he knew, in fine, that she
boasted of having the power of promptly negotiating a peace
through the mediation of the Queen of Spain, who was at
her disposal. Thus informed, he entreated his royal mis
tress to reject all Madame de Chevreuse's propositions, and
to teU her plainly that she would not Hsten to anything
relating to a separate treaty, that she was decided upon not
separating herself from her allies, that she desired a general
peace, that with such view she had sent her ministers to
Munster, who were then negotiating that important matter,
and that it was superfluous to speak to her any more upon
the subject.
Though bafled on these different points, Madame de
Chevreuse did not consider herself vanquished. She raUied
and emboldened her adherents by her lofty spirit and firm
resolution. The party feud went on — intrigues were multi
pUed — but up to the close of August, 1643, no change had
taken place, though the acrimony of party feehng had
become largely increased. Finding that she had fruitlessly

62 Political Women.
employed insmuation, flattery, artifice, and every species of
Court manoeuvre, her daring mind did not shrinli from the
idea of having recourse to other means of success. She
kept up a brisk agitation amongst the bishops and devotees,
she continued to weave her pohtical plots with the chiefs
of the Importants, and at the same time she formed a closer
intimacy with that small cabal which formed in some sort
the advance-guard of that party, composed of men reared
amongst the old conspiracies, accustomed to and always
ready for coups de main, who had of old embarked in more
than one desperate enterprise agamst RicheHeu, and who,
in an extremity, might be Hkewise launched against Mazarin.
The memoirs of the time, and especially those of De Retz
and La Rochefoucauld, make us sufficiently weU acquainted
with their names and characters. The former mistress
of Chalais found Httle difficulty in acquiring sole sway over
a factioU composed of second-rate talents. She caressed it
skilfuUy ; and, with the art of an experienced conspirator,
she fomented every germ of false honour, of quintessential
devotedness, and extravagant rashness. Mazarin, who, Hke
Richelieu, had an admirable poHce, forewarned of Madame
de Chevreuse's machinations, fully comprehended the danger
with which he was menaced. No one could have been better
informed as to his exact position than the Cardinal : and
the plans of the Duchess and the chiefs of the Importants
developed themselves clearly under Mazarin's sharp-sighted-
ness — either by their incessant and elaborately-concerted
intrigues with the Queen, to force her to abandon a mimster
to whose pohcy she had not yet openly declared her adhe
sion, or, should it prove necessary, treat that minister as
De Luynes had done the last Queen-mother's favourite
d'Ancre, and as Montresor, Barriere, and Saint-Ybar would

Political Women. g?
have served RicheHeu. The first plan not having succeeded,
they began to think seriously about carrying out the second,
and Madame de Chevreuse, the strongest mind of the party,
proposed with some show of reason to act before the return
of the young hero of Rocroy, the Duke d'Enghien ; for
that victorious soldier once in Paris would unquestionably
shield Mazarin. It became necessary, therefore, to profit
by his absence in order to strike a decisive blow. Success
seemed certain, and even easy. They were sure of having
the people with them, who, exhausted by a long war and
groaning under taxation, would naturally welcome with
dehght the hope of peace and repose. They might reckon, on
the declared support of the parhament, burniag to recover
that importance in the State of which it had been deprived
by RicheHeu, and which was then a matter of dispute with
Mazarin. They had all the secret, even overt sympathy of
the episcopate, which, with Rome, detested the Protestant
alhance, and demanded the restoration of that of Spain.
The eager concurrence of the aristocracy could not be
doubted for a moment; which ever regretted its old and
turbulent independence, and whose most iUustrious repre
sentatives, the Vendomes, the Guises, the BouUlons, and
the La Rochefoucaulds were strenously opposed to the
domination of a foreign favourite, without fortune, of no
birth, and as yet without fame. The princes of the blood
resigned themselves to Mazarin rather than to liking him.
The Duke d'Orleans was not remarkable for great fidehty to
his friends, and the poHtic Prince de Conde looked twice
ere he quarreUed with the successful. He coaxed all parties,
whUst he clung to his own interests. His son, doubtless,
would foUow in his father's footsteps, and he would be won
over by being overwhelmed with honours. The day foUow-

64 Political Women.
ing that on which the blow should be struck there would be
no resistance to their ascendancy, and on the veiy day itself
scarcely any obstacle. The Italian regiments of Mazarin
were with the army; there were scarcely any other troops
in Paris save the regiments of the guards, the colonels of
which were nearly all devoted to the Importants. The
Queen herself had not yet renounced her former friendships.
Her prudent reserve even was wrongly interpreted. As it
was her desire to appease and deal gently on aU hands, she
gave kind words to everybody, and those kind words were
taken as tacit encouragement. Anne had not hitherto
shown much firmness of character ; a certain amount
of liking for the Cardinal was not unjustly imputed to her,
and undue significance already attributed to the steadUy
increasing attachment of a few short months.
Mazarin, on his own part, indulged in no Ulusions. He
was decidedly not yet master of Anne of Austria's heart ;
since at that moment — that is to say, during the month of
July, 1643 — in his most secret notes he displays a deep
inquietude and despondency. The dissimulation of which
everybody accused the Queen obviously terrified him, and
we see him passing through aU the alternations of hope and
fear. It is very curious to trace and follow out the varied
fluctuations of his mind. In his official letters to ambassa
dors and generals he affects a security which he does not
feel. With his own intimate friends he permits some hint
of his perplexities to escape him, but in his private memo
randa they are aU laid bare. We therem read his inmost
carks and cares, and his passionate entreaties that the
Queen- Regent would open her mind to him. He feigns the
utmost disinterestedness towards her ; he simply asks to
make way for Chateauneuf, if she has any secret preference

Political Women. 65
for that minister. The ambiguous conduct of the Regent
harasses and distresses him, and he conjures her either to
permit him to retire or to declare herself in favour of his
policy. This exciting contest continued with the keenest activity,
but no change had occurred up to the end of July, and even
the first days of August, 1643, though this critical state of
affairs had become greatly aggravated. The violence of the
Importants increased daily ; the Queen defended her minis
ter, but she also showed consideration for his enemies. She
hesitated to take the decided attitude which Mazarin re-
quu'ed at her hands, not only in his individual interest, but
in that of his government. Suddenly an incident, very
insignificant apparently, but which by assuming larger
proportions brought about the inevitable crisis — forced the
Queen to declare herself, and Madame de' Chevreuse to
plunge deeper into a balefiU enterprise, the idea of which
had already forced itself upon her imagination. A great
scandal occurred. We aUude to a quarrel between the two
duchesses, de LongueviUe and de Montbazon.

CHAPTER II.
THE DUCHESS DE MONTBAZON.  THE AFFAIR OF THE DROPPED
LETTERS.  THE QUARREL OF THE TWO DUCHESSES.
On declaring itself of the party of Mazarin, the house of
Conde had drawn down the hatred of the Importants, though
their hostihty scarcely fell upon Madame de LongueviUe.
Her gentleness in everjiihing in which her heart was not
seriously engaged, her entire indifference to poHtics at this
period of her Hfe, with the graces of her mind and person,
rendered her pleasing to every one, and shielded her from
party spite. But apart from affairs of State, she had an
enemy, and a formidable enemy, in the Duchess de Mont
bazon. We have said that Madame de Montbazon had been
the mistress of the Dulie de LongueviUe, and as one of the
principal personages of the drama we are about to relate,
she requires to be somewhat better known.
We shall pass over in silence many of her foibles, without
attempting to excuse any. Before sketching her life, or at
least a portion of it, it wUl be necessary, in order to protect
her memory against an excess of severity, to recaU certain
traditions and examples for which unhappUy her famUy was
notorious. Daughter of Claude de Bretagne, Baron d'Avangour, she
was on her mother's side granddaughter of that very com
plaisant Marquis de La Varenne Fouquet, who, successively
scuUion, cook, and maitre d'hotel of Henry the Fourth,

Political JVomen. fj
" gained more by can-ying the amorous King's poidets than
basting those in his kitchen." Catherine Fouquet, Coun
tess de Vertus, his daughter, Madame de Montbazon's
mother, was beautiful, witty, somewhat giddy, and verv
gaUant. Impatient of aU hindrance, she had authorised one
of her lovers to assassinate her husband ; but it was the
husband who assassinated the lover. The tragical termina
tion of this renconti-e does not seem to have cast a gloom
over the life of the Countess de Vertus, for at seventy she
began to leam to dance, and when seventy-three, mai-ried a
young man over head and ears in debt.
In 1628, Marie d'Avangour quitted her convent to espouse
Hercule de Rohan, Diike de Montbazon, who was the father,
by his first marriage, of Madame de Chevreuse and of the
Piince de Guemene. She was sixteen, and he sixty-one.
Thorough fool as he was, the Duke did not conceal from
himself, it is said, the conviction that such an union was
fraught with some dsmger to him ; but we may venture to
affirm that he could not have foreseen aU its dangers. FuU
of respect for the vutues of Marie de' Medicis, he recom
mended her example to his wUe ; then, with every confidence
in the future, he conducted her to Court.
In beauty the daughter was worthy of the mother, but in
vices she left her far behind. TaUemant says she was one
of the lovehest women imaginable. Her mind was not her
most brilhant side, and the Httle that she had wns turned to
intrigue and perfidy. " Her mind," says the indiUgent
Madame de MotteviUe, " was not so fijie as her person; her
brilHancy was limited to her eyes, which commanded love.
She claimed universal admiration." In regard to her chai-ac-
ter, aU are unanimous. De Retz, who knew her weU, speaks
of hef in these terms : " Madame de Montbazon was a very

68 Political Women.
great beauty. Modesty was wanting in her air. Her jargon
might, during a dull hour, have supplied the defects of her
mind. She showed but Httle faith in gaUantry, none in
business. She loved her own pleasure alone, and above her
pleasure her interest. I never saw a person who, in vice,
preserved so little respect for virtue." Supremely vain and
passionately fond of money, it was by the aid of her beauty
that she sought influence and fortune. She, therefore, took
infinite care of it, as of her idol, as of her resources, her
treasure. She kept it in repair, heightened it bj' aU sorts of
artifices, and preserved it almost uninjured tiU her death.
Madame de MotteviUe asserts that, during the latter part of
her life, she was as full of vanitj' as if she were but twenty-
five years of age ; that she had the same desire to please,
and that she wore her mourning garb in so charming a
manner, that "the order of nature seemed changed, since
age and beauty could be found united." Ten years before,
in 1647, at the age of thirty-five, when Mazarin gave a
comedy in the Italian style, that is, an opera, there was in
the evening a grand ball, and the Duchess de Montbazon
was present, adorned with pearls, with a red feather on her
head, and so dazzling in her appearance that the whole
company was completely charmed. We can imagme what
she was in 1643, at the age of thirty-one.
Of the two conditions of perfect beauty — strength and
grace, Madame de Montbazon possessed the first in the
highest degree. She was taU and majestic, and she had aU
the charms of embonpoint. Her throat reminded one of
the fuhiess, in this particular, of the antique statues — ex
ceeding them, perhaps, somewhat. What struck the be
holder most were her eyes and hair of intense blackness,
upon a skin of the most dazzling white. Her defect was a

Political Women. 69
nose somewhat too prominent, with a mouth so large as to
give her face an appearance of severity. It will be seen
that she was the very opposite of Madame de Longueville.
The latter was taU, but not to excess. The richness of her
form did not diminish its delicacy. A moderate embonpoint
exhibited, in full and exquisite measure, the beauty of the
female form. Her eyes were of the softest blue ; her hair
of the most beautiful blonde. She had the most majestic air,
and yet her pecuHar characteristic was grace. To these were
added the great difference of manners and tone. Madame
de LongueviUe was, in her deportment, dignity, politeness,
modesty, sweetness itself, with a languor and nonchalance
which formed not her least charm. Her words were few, as
well as her gestures; the inflexions of her voice were a
perfect music* The excess, into which she never feU,
might have been a sort of fastidiousness. Everything in
her was wit, sentiment, charm. Madame de Montbazon, on
the contrary, was free of speech, bold and easy in her tone,
full of stateHness and pride.
The Duchess was, nevertheless, a very attractive creatm-e
when she desired to be so, and such we must conceive her
to have been if we would take account of the admh-ation she
excited, and not exactly Hke the person which Cousin repre
sents her when, at the age of nearly forty, she had become
"a Colossus"— to use TaUemant's phrase. At the same
time it is true that, even in youth, she had less grace than
strength, less deHcacy than majesty. It is also true that she
was free of speech, and in tone was bold and offhand ; but
those very defects for which she was remarkable only the
better assured her empire over what, in modern parlance,
would be termed the " fast " portion of the Court, and the
* ViUef ore, p. 32.

70 Political Women.
sentunents to which she gave utterance revealed the most
singular extravagance. But not a smgle voice protested when
the Duke d'Hocquincourt proclaimed her la belle des belles.
In the eyes of the foreigner she was the marvel which the
generals who dreamed of the capture of Paris coveted ; in
other words, she was par excellence "the booty" most
desirable, on the subject of which the Duke of Weimar per
petrated a thoroughly German joke, which we must be par
doned for not repeating : Anne of Austria might have smUed
at it without blushing, but it is too gross to risk raising a
laugh by its repetition in om- days.
She had a great number of adorers, and of happy adorers,
from Gaston Duke of Orleans, and the Count de Soissons,
slain at Marfee, to Ranee, the young and gallant editor of
Anacreon, and the future founder of La Trappe. M. de
LongueviUe had been for some time her lover by title,
and he afforded her considerable advantages. When he
married Mademoiselle de Bourbon, Madame the Princess
exacted — without, however, being very faithfuUy obej'ed —
the discontinuance of aU intercourse with his old mistress.
Hence, in that interested soul, an irritation, which wounded
vanity redoubled, when she saw this young bride, with her
great name, her marveUous mind, her indefinable charms,
advance into the world of gaUantry, without the least effort
draw after her all hearts, and take possession of, or at least
share that empire of beauty of which she was so proud, and
which was to her so precious. On the other hand, the
Duke de Beaufort had not been able to restrain a passionate
admiration for Madame de LonguevUle, which had been
very coldly received. He was wounded by it, and his
wound bled for a long time, as his friend,. La Chatre,

Political Women. 71
informs us,* even after he had transferred his homage to
Madame de Montbazon. The latter, as may be easily ima
gined, was again exasperated. Finally, the Duke de Guise,
recently arrived in Paris, placed himself in the party of the
Importants and at the service of Madame de Montbazon,
who received him very favourably, at the same time she was
striving to keep or recall the Duke de Longueville, and that
she was ruling Beaufort, whose office near her was some
what that of a cavalier servente. Thus it wUl be seen that
Madame de Montbazon disposed through Beaufort and
through Guise, as through her daughter-in-law Madame de
Chevreuse, of the house of Vendome and that of Lorraine,
and she employed all this influence to the profit of her
hatred against Madame de LonguevUle. She burned to
injure her, and was not long in finding an opportunity of
doing it.
One day when a numerous company was assembled in her
salon, one of her young lady friends picked up a couple of
letters which had been dropped on the floor, bearing no
signatures, but in a feminine handwriting, and of a some
what equivocal style. They were read, and a thousand
jokes perpetrated concerning them, and some effort made to
discover the author. They were from a woman who wrote
tenderly to some one whom she did not hate. Madame de
Montbazon pretended that they had faUen from the pocket of
Maurice de Coligny, who had just gone out, and that they
were in the handwriting of Madame de LongueviUe. The
word of command thus once given, the Duke de Beaufort
was amongst the first to spread the insinuation which was
a calumny, aU the echoes of the party of the Importants
took it up, and Madame de Montbazon herself found plea-
* MfSmoires of La Chatre. Petitot Collection, vol. li. p. 230.

72 Political Women.
sure in repeating it during several foUowing days, so that
the incident became the entertainment of the Court. A
frivolous curiosity has very faithfuUy preserved the text of
the two letters thus found at the Duchess's house.*
I.
" I should much more regret the change in your conduct if I thought
myself less worthy of a continuation of your affection. I confess to you
that so long as I believed it to be true and warm, mine gave you aU the
advantages which you could desire. Now, hope nothing more from me
than the esteem which I owe to your discretion. I have too much pride
to share the passion which you have so often sworn to me, and I desire to
punish your negligence in seeing me, iu no other way than by depriving
you entirely of my society. I request that you wiU visit me no more, since
I have no longer the power of commanding your presence."
II.
"To what conclusion have you come after so long a silence? Do you
not know that the same pride which rendered me sensible to your past
affection forbids me to endure the false appearances of its continuation !
Tou say that my suspicions and my inequalities render you the most
unhappy person in the world. I assure you that I beUeve no such thing,
although I cannot deny that you have perfectly loved me, as you must
confess that my esteem has worthily recompensed you. So far we have
done each other justice, and I am determined not to have in the end less
goodness, if your conduct responds to my intentions. Tou wonld find
them less unreasonable if you had more passion, and the difficulties of
seeing me would only augment instead of diminishing it, I suffer for
loving too much, and you for not loving enough. If I must beUeve you,
let us exchange humours. I shaU find repose iu doing my duty, and you
in doing yours, and you must fail in doing yours, in order to obtain Uberty.
I do not perceive that I forget the manner iu which I passed the winter
with you, aud that I speak to you as frankly as I have heretofore done
I hope that you wiU make as good use of it, and that I shaU not regret
being overcome iu the resolution which I have made to return to it no
more. I shall remain at home for three or four days in succession, and
will be seen only in the evening : you know the reason. "
These letters were not forgeries. They had been really
* Mdmoires of Madlle. de Montpensier, vol. i. pp. 62, 63.

Political Women.

73

written by Madame de Fouquerolles to the handsome and
elegant Marquis de Maulevrier, who had been sUly enough
to drop them in Madame de Montbazon's salon. Maulevrier,
trembling at being discovered, and at having compromised
Madame de FouqueroUes, ran to La Rochefoucauld, who
was his friend, confided to him Ms secret, and begged him
to undertake to hush up the affair. La Rochefoucauld made
Madame de Montbazon understand that it was for her
interest to be generous on this occasion, for the error or
fraud would be easUy recogmsed as soon as the writing
should be compared with that of Madame de LongueviUe.
Madame de Montbazon placed the original letters in the
hands of La Rochefoucauld, who showed them to M. the
Prince and to Madame the Princess, to Madame de Ram
bouiUet, and to Madame Sable, particular friends of Madame
de LongueviUe, and, the truth being well estabhshed, burned
them in the presence of the Queen, dehvering Maulevrier
and Madame de Fouquerolles from the terrible anxiety into
wMeh they had been for some time thrown.
The house of Conde felt a Hvely resentment at the iasult
offered to it. The Duke and Duchess de LongueviUe
desired, it is true, the one by a sentiment of interested
prudence, the other by a just feeling of dignity, to take no
further notice of the matter. But the Prmcess, impelled by
her Mgh spfrit, and stUl intoxicated by her son's success,
exacted a reparation equal to the offence, and declared
loudly that, if the Queen and the government did not defend
the honour of her house, she and all her famUy would with
draw fr'om the Court. She was indignant at the mere idea
of placing her daughter in the scales with the granddaughter
of a cook. In vain did the whole party of the Importants,
with Beaufort and Guise at their head, agitate and threaten ;

74 Political Women.
in vam did Madame de Chevreuse, who had not yet lost aU
her influence with the Queen, strive earnestly in behalf of
her mother-in-law. It did not suffice for the resentment of
the Princess and the Duke d'Enghien that Madame de
LonguevUle's innocence was fuUy recognised; they de
manded a pubhc reparation. Madame de MotteviUe has
left us an amusing recital of the "mummeries," as she
terms them, of which she was a witness.
The Queen was in her state cabinet and the Princess
beside her, in great emotion and looking very fierce, declar
ing the affafr to be nothing less than the crime of high trea
son. Madame de Chevreuse, interested for a thousand
reasons m the quarrel of her mother-in-law, was busy with
Cardinal Mazarin arranging the composition of the apology
to be made. At every word there was a pour-parler of half
an hour. The Cardinal went from one side to the other
to accommodate the difference, as if such a peace was
necessary for the welfare of France, and his own in particu
lar. It was arranged that the criminal should present her
self at the Princess's hotel on the morrow.
The apology was written upon a smaU piece of paper and
attached to her fan, in order that she might repeat it word
for word to the Princess. She did it in the most haughty
manner possible, assuming an afr which seemed to say, " I
jest in every word I utter."
MademoiseUe de Montpensier gives us the two speeches
made upon the occasion. " Madame, I come here to pro
test to you that I am innocent of the wickedness of which
I have been accused : no person of honour could utter a
calumny such as tMs. If I had committed a Hke fault, I
should have submitted to any pmiishment wMch it might
have pleased the Queen to inflict upon me ; I should never

Political IWivicn. 75
have shown myself again iu the world, and would have
asked your pardon. 1 beg you to believe that I shall never
fail iu the respect which I own to you and in the ophiiou
which 1 have of the virtue and of the merit of Madame de
Longueville." * That lady was not present at the ceremonj'-,
and her mother, to whom the Duchess addressed herself,
made a very short and dry reply. This reconciliation did
not deceive any one of those proscut; it was, in fact, only
a fresh declaration of war.
Besides the satisfaction which she had just obtained, the
Princess had asked and had boon permitted the privilege of
never associating with the Duchess de Montbazon. Some
time after, Madame de Chevreuse invited the Queen to a
collation in the public garden of Renard. This was then
the rendezvous of the best society. It was at the termina
tion of the TuUeries, near, the Porte de la Conference,
which abutted on the Coiir.-i dc la Rchie. In the summer,
on returning from the Courts, which was the " Rotten Row "
of the diij', and the spot where the beauties of the time
exorcised their jtowi'rs, it was customary to stop at the
garden Renard for the purpose of talcing rofreshments, and to
listen to serenades peri'ormod after the Si)anisli fashion. The
Queen took pleasure in visiting this place during fine sum
mer evenings. She desired Madanio the Princess to partake
with her the collation olfored by Miulanic de Chevreuse,
assuring her at the same tiuio that Madunio de Montbazon
would not be i)resent; but the latter person was reaUy
there, aud oven pretended to do the honours of the collation
as mother-in-law of the lady who gave it. The Princess
wished to withdraw, in order that the entertainment might
not be disturbed : the (j),ueeu had no right whatever to
• Jlouioii'o.s, vol. i. p. G."i.

76 Political Women.
detain her. She, therefore, begged Madame de Montbazon
to pretend sickness, and by leaving the party, to reheve her
from embarrassment. The haughty Duchess would not
consent to fly before her enemy, and kept her place. The
Queen, offended, refused the coUation and quitted the pro
menade. On the morrow an order from the King enjoined
upon Madame de Montbazon to leave Paris. TMs disgrace
irritated the Importants. They thought themselves humi-
Hated and enfeebled, and there were no violent or extreme
measures which they did not contemplate. The Duke de
Beaufort, smitten at once in his mfluence and his love,
uttered loud denunciations, and it was reported that a plot
had been formed against the Hfe of Mazarin.

CHAPTER III.
THE IMPORTANTS.
It is necessary, at this juncture, to have a just idea of the
general position of political affafrs in France, as weU as of
the attitude of the faction known as the Importants, who
were then most active in opposing the government of Maza
rin, in order to understand clearlj'- the gravity of an incident
wMch otherwise in itself might seem to be of little conse
quence. La Rochefoucauld, the historian of that party, has made
us tolerably famUiar with the men who composed it. They
were a band of eccentric and mischievous spfrits, bold of
heart, ready of hand, and of boundless fidehty to one ano
ther. Professing to hold the most outrageous maxims,
incessantly invoking Brutus and old Rome, and inter
mingling gaUant with poHtical intrigues, they suffered them
selves to be hurried beyond the bounds of reason through a
Quixotic idea of always pleasing the ladies. They had all
been more or less fellow-sufferers with Anne of Austria
during the period of her affliction and persecution by Riche
Heu, and from the commencement of her Regency, these
returning exUes and Hberated prisoners had been gathering
round her untU at last, formed into a faction, they gave
themselves out as the Queen's party, and by adopting a
high-flown, turgid, and mysterious style of phraseology, and
assuming bombastic and braggart airs of authority, coupled

78 Political Women.
with an affectation of capacity and profundity, obtained for
themselves from the wits of the Court and city the nick
name of The Importants, under which they figured untU
absorbed a few years later in the more general and popular
designation of Frondeurs. Their favourite chief was the Duke
de Beaufort, of whom we have already spoken as possessing
very nearly the same characteristics as the rest — at once
artificial and extravagant, with great pretensions to loyalty
and patriotism, professing to be a man of independent action,
but in fact whoUy ruled by Madame de Montbazon, who, in
her turn, was swayed by the Duchess de Chevreuse.
On the sudden disappearance from Paris of one of the
most distinguished of the lady leaders of the Importants —
like a star of the first magnitude fallen from thefr system —
the entfre party was thrown into commotion, whilst the
more intimate friends and admirers of the banished beauty
raised a fierce outcry. Such an open disgrace of the young
and beautiful Duchess sorely frritated her restless partisans.
They considered themselves humiliated and weakened by it,
and there was no violence or extremity to wliich they were
not prepared to resort. Her slave and adorer, the Duke de
Beaufort, assailed at once on the score of Ms political inte
rest and personal gallantry, vapoured and stormed furiously.
Thoughts of vengeance, which, Hlce the mutterings of an
approaching tempest, had begun to brood beneath the roof
of the Hotel de Vendome, now became concentrated in a
plot to get rid of Mazarin by fafr means or foul, divers
modes of its execution being earnestly discussed.
In such conjunctures, the Cardinal rose to the level of
RicheHeu. At the same time he had to secure safety and
success mainly through Ms own courage and patience. But
he knew right weU how to play his part. The wily minister

Political Women. 70
already stood weU with the Queen— had begun to seem
necessary, or at least very useful to her, though Anne of
Austria had not yet formaUy declared her approval of his
pohcy. Mazarin represented to her what she owed ahke
to the State and the royal authority now seriously theatened.
That she must prefer the interest of her son and his crown
to friendships— satisfactory enough at other times, but
which had now become dangerous. He brought before her
eyes most indubitable proofs of a conspiracy to take his Hfe,
and entreated her to choose between his enemies and Mm-
self. Anne of Austria did not hesitate, and the ruin of the
Importants was decided upon.
More dangerous ground could scarcely have been found
whereon to post the Importants. The Duchess de Mont
bazon, as disreputable in morals and character as she was
remarkable for her beauty, had attacked a young wife, who,
having just made her appearance at the Regent's court, had
already become the object of umversal admfration. To a
lovehness at once so graceful and dazzling that it was pro
nounced to be angelic, Madame de Longueville added great
inteUigence, a most noble heart, and was a person of aU
others whom it behoved the Importants to conciliate ; for
her natural generosity of character had disinclined her to
side with the party of repression, and thereby had even
given some umbrage to the Prime Minister. At that
moment, she was merely occupied with intellectual pursmts,
innocent gaUantry, and above all with the fame of her
brother, the Duke d'Enghien ; but there were, it must be
owned, afready perceptible in her mind, some germs of an
Important, which, later, Rochefoucauld knew only too well
how to develop. But the slanderous attack that had been
made upon her, the disgraceful motive of wMch was suffi-

So Political Women.
ciently clear, revolted every honest heart. The ungovern
able impetuosity of Beaufort on this occasion was — as it
deserved to be — strongly stigmatised. Having formerly
paid his addresses to Mademoiselle de Bourbon, and been
rejected, his conduct assumed the aspect of an obvious
revenge. Moreover, Madame de Chevreuse's every effort
being directed towards depriving Mazarin of supporters, she
incited the devotees of either sex who were about the Queen
to act against him, and Madame de LongueviUe was no less
the idol of the Carmelites and the party of the Saints than
that of the Hotel de RambouiUet. Again, the Duke
d'Enghien, afready covered with the laurels of Rocroy, and
about to entwine therewith those of Thionville, was so
evidently the arbiter of the situation, that Madame de
Chevreuse insisted, with much force, that Mazarin should
be got rid of whilst the young Duke was occupied with the
distant enemy, and before he should return from the army.
To womid him through so susceptible a medium as that of
an adored sister, to turn Mm against herself without any
necessitj^ and hasten his return, would be a silly extrava
gance. Therefore, all who had any sense among the Im
portants — La Rochefoucauld, La Chatre, and Campion —
anxiously sought to hush up and terminate this deplorable
affair ; and Madame de Chevreuse, sedulous to pay court to
the Queen at the same time that she was weaving a subtle
plot against her minister, had prepared the Httle fete for her
at Renard's garden with the design of dispersmg the last
remaining cloudlets of the lately-spent tempest. But the
Duchess's politic purpose was, as we have seen, destined to
faU through the insane pride of a woman who was as sense
less as she was heartless.*
* Alexandre de Campion, in the Mecueil before cited, writes to Madame

Political Women. 8i
Under these critical cfrcumstances how did it behove
Madame de Chevreuse to act ? She was compeUed to
restrain Madame de Montbazon, but she could neither
abandon her nor be false to herself. She resolved therefore
to foUow up energetically the formidable project which had
become the last hope and supreme resource of her party.
Through Madame de Montbazon, Beaufort had been dragged
into it. The latter had mustered the men of action afready
mentioned, and who were whoUy devoted to him. A plot
had been devised and every measure concerted for surprising
and perhaps kilhng the Cardinal.
de Montbazon: — "Si mon avis eut ^t^ suivi chez Renard, vous seriez
sortie, pour obeir a la Reine, vous n'habiteriez pas la maison de Rochefort,
et nous ne serious pas dans le p&il dont nous sommes menaces."

CHAPTER IV.
THE CONSPIRACY OF THE DUCHESS DE CHEVREUSE AND THE
DUIiE DE BEAUFORT TO GET HH) OF MAZARIN.
One need not be greatly astonished at such an enterprise
on the part of two women of high rank and a grandson of
Henry the Great. At that stirring epoch of French Mstory
— ^the interval between the League and the Fronde — energy
and strength were the distinctive traits of the French aris
tocracy. Neither court hfe nor a corrupting opulence had
yet enervated it. Everything was then in extremes, in vice
as in virtue. Men attacked and defended one another with
the same weapons. The Marshal d'Ancre had been mas
sacred ; more than one attempt had been made to assassi
nate RicheHeu ; whilst he, on his side, had not been back
ward in having recourse to the sword and block. Cor
neiUe paints faithfully the spfrit of the epoch. His Emilie
is also involved in an assassination, and she is not the less
represented as a perfect heroine. Madame de Chevreuse
had long been accustomed to conspiracies ; she was bold
and unscrupulous. She did not gather round her such men
as Beaupuis, Saint-Ybar, De Varicarville, and de Campion
merely to pass the time in idle conversation. She had not
remained a stranger to the designs they had formerly con
cocted against Richelieu, for in 1643 she fomented, as we
have seen, their exaltation and their devotedness ; and it
was not unreasonable, certainly, that Mazarin should attri-

Political Women. 83
bute to her the first idea of the project which Beaufort was
to accompHsh.
At the same time it must be remembered that the Impor
tants and thefr successors the Frondeurs denied this project
and declared it the invention of the Cardinal. It is a point
of the Mghest historical importance and deserves serious
examination, as upon this conspiracy, real or imaginary, as
may be determined after careful investigation, rests the fact
whether Mazarin owed in reality aU his career and the
great future which then opened before him to a falsehood
cunningly invented and audaciously sustained ; or whether
Madame de Chevreuse and the Importants, after having
tried their utmost agamst him, now resolving to destroy
him with the armed hand, were themselves destroyed and
became the instruments of his triumph. The evidence
available frresistibly leads to the latter conclusion, and we
think that we sliaU be able to show that the plot attributed
to the Importants, far from being a chimsera, was the almost
inevitable solution of the violent crisis just described.
La Rochefoucauld, without having indulged in the insane
hopes of his friends and lent his hand to their rash enter
prise, made it a point of honour to defend them after thefr'
discomfiture', and set himself to cover the retreat. He
affects to doubt whether the plot which then made -so much
noise was real or supposititious. In his eyes, the greater
probability was that the Duke de Beaufort, by a isls,e finesse,
endeavoured to excite alarm in the Cardinal, believing that
it was sufficient to strike terror into his mind to force him
to quit France, and that it was with this view that he held
secret meetings and gave them the appearance of conspiracj\
La Rochefoucauld constitutes himself especially the cham
pion of Madame de Chevreuse's innocence, and declares
G 2

^1

Political Wome7i.

himself thoroughly persuaded that she was ignorant of
Beaufort's designs.
After the historian of the Importants, that of the Frond
eurs holds very nearly the same arguments. Like La Roche
foucauld, De Retz has only one object in his Memofrs— that
of investing himself with a semblance of capacity and makfrig
a great figure in every way, in evU as weU as good. He is
often more truthful, because he cares less about other people,
and that he is disposed to sacrifice all the world except
himself. In this matter it is hard to conceive the motive
for his reserve and increduHty. He knew right well that
the majority of the persons accused of having taken jjart in
the plot had already been impHcated in more than one such
business. He himself tells us that he had conspfred with
the Count de Soissons, that he had blamed him for not
having struck down Richelieu at Amiens, and that with La
Rochepot, he, the Abbe de Retz, had formed the design of
assassinating him at the TuUeries durmg the ceremony of
the baptism of Mademoiselle (de Montpensier).,'' The Co-
adjutorship of the Archbishopric of Paris, which the Regent
had just granted him, in consideration of his own services
and the virtues of his father, had mOlhfied Mm, it is true ;
but his old accomplices, who had not been so well treated
as he, had remained faithful to thefr cause, to their designs,
to their habitudes. Was De Retz then sincere when he re
fused to believe that they had attempted against Mazarin that
which he had seen them undertake, and which he had him
self undertaken against Richelieu ? In his bhnd hatred he
throws everything upon Mazarm : he pretends that he was
terrified, or that he feigned terror. It was the Abbe de la
Riviere, he teUs us, who, in order to rid himself of the
rivalry of the Count de Montresor in the Duke d'Orleans'

Political Women. 85
favour, must have persuaded Mazarin that there was a plot
set on foot against him, in which Montresor was mixed up.
It was the Prince de Conde also who must have tried to
destroy Beaufort through fear lest his son, the Duke
d'Enghien, might engage with him in some duel, as he
wished to do, to avenge his sister, during the short visit he
made to Paris after taking ThionvUle.
To the suspicious opinions of de Retz and La Rochefou
cauld let us oppose testimony more distinterested, and
before all other the sUence of Montresor,* who, whUst pro
testing that neither he nor his friend the Count de Bethune
had meddled with the conspiracy imputed to the Duke de
Beaufort, says not a single word against the reality of that
conspfracy, which he would not have failed to ridicule had
he believed it imaginary. Madame de MotteviUe, who was
not in the habit of overwhelming the unfortunate, after
having reported with impartiality the different rumours circu
lated at Court, relates certain facts wMch appear to her
authentic, and which are decisive. 1 One of the best in
formed and most truthful of contemporary historians
expresses not the sHghtest doubt on this head. " The Im-^
portants," says Monglat, " seeing that they could not drive
the Cardinal out of France, resolved to despatch him with
thefr daggers, and held several councils on this subject at
the Hotel de Vendome." That opinion is confirmed by new
and numerous particulars with which Mazarin's carnets and
confidental letters furnish us.
The person whom Mazarin signahzes in his carnets and
letters as the trusted friend of Beaufort and after him the
principal accused, the Count de Beaupuis, son of the Count
* Memoires, Petitot Collection, t. lix.
+ Memoires, t. i., p. 184.

86 Political Women.
de MaiUe, had found means of sheltering himself from the
minister's first searches; he had succeeded in escaping
from France and sought an asylum at Rome under the
avowed protection of Spain. Mazarin left no stone unturned
to obtain from the Court of Rome the extradition of Beau
puis, in order that he might be legally tried. The Pope at
first could not refuse, at least for form's sake, to have
Beaupuis committed to the Castie of St. Angelo. But he
was soon liberated, and provided with a State lodging
wherein he was aUowed to see nearly every one who came.
Mazarin complained loudly of such indulgence. "It is aU
arranged," said he, " that when necessary he may escape, or
at any rate the Duke de Vendome is furnished with every
facility for poisoning him, in order that with BeaupMs may
perish the principal proof of his son's treason. If aU this
happened in Barbary, people would be higMy indignant.
And tMs is suffered to take place in Rome, in the capital of
Christianity, under the eyes and by the orders of a Pope ! "
Failing Beaupuis, Mazarin would have Hked to put Ms
hand upon one of the brothers Campion, intimately con
nected as they were with Beaufort and Madame de Chevreuse,
and too closely in the confidence of both not to know aU
their secrets. He himself complains, as we have seen, of
being very badly seconded. And then he had to do with
emerited conspfrators, consummate in the art of conceaHng
themselves and of leaving no trace of their whereabouts —
with the active and indefatigable Duchess de Chevreuse, and
with the Duke de Vendome, who, in order to save his son,
set about forwarding the escape of all those whose depositions
might help to convict him, or kept them somehow in his own
hands, hidden and shut up close at Anet. Mazarin was
thus only able to arrest a, few obscure individuals who

Political Women. 87
were ignorant of the plot, and could throw no Hght
upon it.
But it is needless to exhaust existing proofs in demon
stration of the fact that Mazarm did not enact a farce by
instituting proceedings against the conspfrators, that he
pursued them with sincerity and vigour, and that he was
perfectly convinced that a project of assassination had been
formed against him, when the existence of that project is
elsewhere averred, when, in default of a sentence of the
parliament, which could not have been given in the teeth of
insufficient evidence, neither Beaupuis, nor the Campions,
nor Lie, nor Brillet havuig been arrested, better proof
being extant in the full and entire confession of one of the
principal conspirators, with the plan and all the detaUs of
the affafr set forth in Memoirs of comparatively recent pub-
Hcation, but the authenticity of which cannot be contested.
We allude to the precious Memofrs of Henri de Campion,*
brother of Madame de Chevreuse's friend, whom that lady
had introduced also to the service of the Duke de Vendome,
and more particularly to that of the Duke de Beaufort.
Henri had accompanied the Duke in his flight to England
after the conspfracy of Cinq Mars, and he had retm-ned
with him ; he possessed his entire confidence, and he relates
notMng in which he himself had not taken a considerable
pari. Henri's character was very different to that of his
brother Alexandre. He was a weU-educated man, fuU of
honour and courage, not in the least given to boastmg,
averse to aU intrigue, and born to make his way through
life by the straightest paths in the career of arms. He
wrote these Memoirs in sohtude, to which after the loss of
* " Memoires de Henri de Campion, &o.," 1807. Treuttel and Wurtz.
Paris.

88 Political Women.
his daughter and his wife he had retired to await death
amidst the exercise of a genuine piety. It is not in such a
frame of mind that a man is disposed to invent fables, and
there is no middle way. What he says is that which we
must beheve absolutely, or if we have any doubt that he
speaks the truth, he must be considered as the worst of
villains. No interested feeling could have dfrected Ms pen,
for he compUed his Memoirs, or at least he finished them,
a short time after Mazarin's death, without thought, there
fore, of paying court to him by making very tardy revela
tions, and scarcely two years before he himself died in 1663.
Thus it may be fairly inferred that Henri de Campion wrote
strictly under the inspiration of his conscience. One has
only to open his Memoirs to see confirmed, point by point,
all the particulars with which Mazarin's carnets are filled.
Nothing is there wantiag, everything coincides, aU marvel
lously corresponds. It appears, indeed, as though Mazarin
in making his notes had had before his eyes de Campion's
Memoirs, or that the latter whUst penning them had Maza
rin's carnets before him : he at once so thoroughly takes up
the thread and completes them.
His brother Alexandre, in his letters of the month of
August, 1643, had already let sHp more than one mysterious
sentence. He wrote to Madame de Montbazon in banish
ment: — "You must not despair, madam, there are still
some half-a-dozen honest folks who do not give up.
Your illustrious friend wiU not abandon you. If to be pru
dent it were necessary to renounce your acquaintance, there
are those who would prefer rather to pass for fools aU their
days." Like Montreso?-, he does not once say that there was
no plot framed against Mazarin, which is a kind of tacit
avowal ; and when the storm burst, he took care to conceal

Political Women. 89
Mmself, advised Beaupuis to do the same, and ends with
these significant words : — " In embarking in Court affairs
one cannot be certain of being master of events, and whilst
we profit by the lucky ones, we must resolve to put up with
the unlucky." Henri de Campion raises this already very
transparent veil.
He declares plainly that there was a project on foot to get
rid of Mazarin, and that that project was conceived, not by
Beaufort, but by Madame de Chevreuse in concert with
Madame de Montbazon. " I think," says he, " that the
Duke's design did not spring from his own particular senti
ment, but from the persuasion of the duchesses de Che
vreuse and de Montbazon, who exercised entfre sway over
his mind and had an u'reconcileable hatred to the Cardinal.
What makes me say so, is that, whilst he was under that
resolution, I always observed that he had an internal repug
nance which, if I mistake not, was overcome by some pledge
which he may have given to those ladies." There uias,
therefore, a plot, and its real author, as Mazarin truly said,
and Campion repeats, was Madame de Chevreuse; if so,
Madame de Montbazon was only an instrument in her
hands. Beaufort, once inveigled, drew in also his intimate friend.
Count de Maille's son, the Count de Beaupuis, cornet in
the Queen's horse-guards. To them Madame de Chevreuse
adjoined Alexandre de Campion, the elder brother of
Henri. " She loved him much," remarks the latter, and in
a way which, added to certain ambiguous words of Alexan
dre, excites suspicion whether the elder Campion were not
in fact one of the numerous successors of Chalais. He was
then thirty-three, and his brother confesses that he had
caught from the Count de Soissons the taste for and the .

go Political Women.
habitudes of faction. Beaupuis and Alexandre de Campion
approved of the plot when communicated to them, "the
former," says Henri, " beheving that it would be a means
for him of attaining to a position of greater importance,
and my brother seeing therem Madame de Chevreuse's
advantage and by consequence his own."
Such were the two first accomplices of Beaufort. A little
later he opened his mind on the subject to Henri de Cam
pion, one of his principaL gentlemen ; to Lie, captain of his
guards ; and to BriUet, his equerry. There the secret rested.
Many other gentlemen and domestics of the house of Ven
dome were destined to take action in the affair, but were
admitted to no confidence. The project was well conceived
and worthy of Madame de Chevreuse. There were at most
five or six conspirators — three capable of keeping the secret,
and who did keep it. Below them, the men of action, who
did not know what they would be called on to do ; and in
the background, the men of the morrow, who might be
reckoned upon to applaud the blow, when it had been
struck, without it being judged fitting to admit them to the
conspiracy. At least Henri de Campion does not even
name Montresor, Bethune, FontraiUe, Varicarville, Saint-
Ybar, which explains wherefore Mazarin, whUst keeping his
eye upon them, did not have them arrested. Neither does
Campion speak of Chandenier, La Ch§.tre, de TreviUe, the
Duke de Bouillon, the Duke de Guise, DeRetz, nor La Roche
foucauld, whose sentiments were not doubtful, but who were
not inclined to go so far as to sully thefr hands with an as
sassination. And that further explains the silence of Maza
rin with regard to them in all that relates to Beaufort's
conspiracy, although he did not cherish the slightest iUusion
as to thefr dispositions, and as to the part thej' would have

Political Women. 91
taken if the plot had succeeded, or even if a serious struggle
had taken place.
The conspiracy rested for some time between Madame de
Chevreuse, Madame de Montbazon, Beaufort, Beaupuis, and
Alexandre de Campion. The fuial resolution was only taken at
the end of July or in the first days of August, that is to say,
precisely dm-ing the height of the quarrel between Madame
de Montbazon and Madame de LongueviUe, which ushered
in the crisis and opened the door to all the events which
followed. It was then only that Beaufort spoke of it to
Henri de Campion, in presence of Beaupuis. Mazarin's
crime was the continuation of Richelieu's system. " The
Duke de Beaufort told me that he thought I had remarked
that the Cardinal Mazarin was re-establishing at court and
throughout the kingdom the tj'ranny of Cardiiial de Riche
lieu, with even more of authority and violence than had
been shown under the government of the latter ; that having
entirely gained the Queen's mind and made aU the ministers
devoted to him, it was impossible to arrest his evil designs
save by depriving Mm of Hfe ; that the pubhc weal having
made him resolve to take that step, he informed me of it in
order that I might aid him with my advice and personaUy
assist in its execution. Beaupuis next ' took up Ms
parable,' and warmly represented the evils wMch the too
great authority of RicheHeu had caused France, and con
cluded by saying that we must prevent the like incon
venience before his successor had rendered matters remedi
less." Such conclusion embodied as nearly as possible the
views and language of Importants and Frondeurs, of La
Rochefoucauld and De Retz. Henri de Campion represents
himself as having at first combatted the Duke's project
with so much force that more than once he was shaken; but

92 Political Women.
the two duchesses wound him up again very quickly, and
Beaupuis and Alexandre de Campion, instead of holding
him back, encouraged him. Shortly afterwards, Beaufort
having declared that he had made up his miad, Henri de
Campion gave in on two conditions : " The one," he teUs
us, " of not laying his hand on the Cardinal, since I would
rather take my own life than do a deed of such nature. The
other, that if the Duke should arrange that the project
should be put into execution during his absence, I would
never mix myself up in it ; whereas if he were himself to be
present, I should without scruple keep myself near his
person, in order to defend him against anj"^ mischance that
might happen, my duty and affection towards him equaUy
obhging me thereto. He granted me those two conditions,
testifying at the same time that he esteemed me more for
having made them, and added that he would be present at
the execution of the project, so that he might authorise it
by his presence."
The plan was to attack the Cardinal in the street, whilst
paying visits in his carriage, commonly having with , him
only a few ecclesiastics, besides five or six lackeys. It
would be necessary to present themselves in force and
unexpectedly, stop the vehicle and strike Mazarin. To do
that, it was necessary that a certain number of the Vendome
domestics, who were not in the secret, should post them
selves daUy, from early morning, in the cabarets around the
Cardinal's abode, which was then at the Hotel de Cleves
near the Louvre. Among the domestics let into the secret,
Henri de Campion names positively GauseviUe. Over
them were placed "the Sieurs d'Avancourt and De Brassy,
Picardians, very resolute men and Ultimate friends of Lie."
The pretext given out was that the Condes proposfrig to

Political Women. 93
put an affront upon Madame de Montbazon, the Duke de
Beaufort, in order to oppose it, desired to have in hand a
troop of gentlemen well mounted and armed. Thefr parts
were aUotted beforehand. A certain number were to pounce
upon the Cardinal's coachman, at the same moment that
others were to open the two doors and strike him, whUst
the Duke would be at hand on horseback, with Beaupuis,
Henri de Campion, and others, to cut down or drive off
those who should be disposed to resist. Alexandre de
Campion was to keep near the Duchess de Chevreuse and
at her orders ; and she herself ought more than ever to be
assiduous in her attentions to the Queen, in order to smooth
the way for her friends, and, in case of success, draw the
Regent to the side of the victorious.
Several occasions favourable to the execution of this plan
presented themselves. In the first instance, Henri de
Campion being with his band in the Rue du Champ-Fleuri —
one end of which joins the Rue Saint-Honore and the other
approaches the Louvre — saw the Cardinal leave the Hotel
de Cleves in his carriage with the Abbe de Bentivoglio, the
nephew of the celebrated cardinal of that name, with a few
ecclesiastics and valets. Campion inquired of one of them
whither the Cardinal was gomg, and was answered — to visit
the Marshal d'Estrees. "I saw," says Campion, "that if
I had made use of the information, his death would have
been inevitable. But I thought that I should be so guilty
in the eyes of God and man that I resisted the temptation
to do so."
The next day it was known that the Cardinal would be
present at a coUation to be given by Madame du Vigean at
her charming residence of La Barre, at the entrance of the
vaUey of Montmorency, where Madame de LonguevUle was

94 Political Women.
staying, and which the Queen had promised to honour with
a visit, and who had already set out. The Cardinal was
repairing thither, having with Mm in Ms coach only the
Count d'Harcourt. Beaufort ordered Campion to assemble
his troop and to ride after him, but Campion represented to
the Duke that if they attacked the Cardinal in the company
of the Count d'Harcourt, they must decide upon kjUing
both, Harcourt being too generous to see Mazarin stabbed
before his eyes without defendmg Mm, and that the murder
of Harcourt would raise against them the entire house of
Lorraiae. Some days afterwards iaformation was given that the
Cardinal was engaged to dine at Maisons, with the Marshal
d'Estrees, to meet the Duke d'Orleans. " I made the Duke
consent," says Campion, "that should the minister be in
the same carriage with his Royal Highness, the design
should not be executed ; but he said, that if he were alone,
he must be kiUed. Early in the morning he had the
horses out and kept himself in readiness at the Capucins
with Beaupuis, near the Hotel de Vendome, postmg a valet
on foot in, the street to tell him when the Cardinal shoiUd
pass, and enjoining me to keep with those whom I was
accustomed to muster at the Cabaret I'Ange, in the Rue
Saint-Honore, very near the Hotel de Vendome, and if the
Cardinal jom'iieyed without the Duke d'Orleans, I should
mount instantly with all my men, and intercept him when
passing the Capucins. I was," adds Campion, " in a state
of anxiety which may readily be imagined, until I saw the
carriage of the Duke d'Orleans pass, and perceived the
Cardinal inside with him."
At length, Beaufort's frritation being carried to the
Mghest pitch by the banishment from court of Madame

Political Women. 95
de Montbazon (which was certainly on the 22nd of August),
goaded by Madame de Chevreuse, by passion, and by a
false sense of honour, he became himself impatient to act.
Seeing that, during the day, he encountered incessant diffi
culties of which he was far from divining the cause, he
resolved to strike the blow at night, and prepared an am
buscade, the success of which seemed certain, and the
details of which we have from Campion. The Cardinal
went every evening to visit the Queen, and returned suffi
ciently late. It was arranged to attack him between the
Louvre and the Hotel de Cleves. Horses were to be in
readiness in some neighbouring inn. The Duke himself
should keep watch with Beaupuis and Campion, during the
time the minister should be with the Queen, and so soon as
he came forth, all three should advance and make a signal
to the rest, who, in the meanwhile, should remain on horse
back on the quay, by the river side, close to the Louvre.
AU which could be very weU,done at night without awaken
ing any suspicion.
It must be remembered that the j)erson who furnishes
these very precise detaUs was one of the principal con
spfrators, that he wrote at sufficiently considerable distance
from the event, in safety, and, to repeat it once again, with
no interest, fearing nothing more from Mazarin, who had re
cently died, and expecting nothing from him. It must be also
remembered that speaking as he has done, he accuses his
own brother ; that, without doubt, he attributes to Mmself
laudable intentions and even some good actions, but that he
confesses having entered into the plot, and that, if its exe
cution had taken place he would have taken part in it, in
fighting by the side of Beaufort. The process submitted to
the parhament not having led to anything, through faUure of

g5 Political Women.
evidence. Campion did not imagine that Mazarin had ever
known "the circumstances ofthe plot, nor those acquainted
with it to the very bottom, and who were engaged in it."
He adds also, " that now the Cardfrial is dead there is no
longer any reason to fear injuring any one in stating matters
as they are." He therefore does not defend Mmself; he
beUeves himself to be sheltered from aU quest, he writes
only to relieve his conscience.
From these curious revelations we fm-ther learn what im
portance Mazarin attached to the arrest of Henri Campion ;
and that writer's statements are not only substantiaUy con
firmed by various entries in the carnets, but read like a
translation into French of those pages from the Cardmal's
Italian. " They threw," he says, " into the BastiUe, Avan-
court and Brassy, where they deposed that I had mustered
them on several occasions, on the part of the Duke de Beau
fort, for the interests of Madame de Montbazon, as I had
told them. This did not afford any motive for interrogating
the Duke, since they owned that he had not spoken to them ;
thus he would not have faUed to deny havmg given the
orders which I carried to them on his part. It was then
seen that the process against him could not be carried on
before 1 had been arrested, in order to find matter whereon
to interrogate him after my own depositions, and so
thoroughly to embarrass us both that every trace of the
affair might be discovered. The proof of tliis' conspfracy
was of most essential importance to the Cardinal, who
directing aU his efforts to the establishment of his govern
ment, and affecting to do so by gentle means, had been un
fortunate enough to be constrained, in the outset, to use
violence against one of the greatest men in the realm, for
his own individual interest, without a conviction to prove

Political Women. 97
that he was compeUed to treat the Duke with rigour. The
Cardinal, despairing of being able to persuade others of
that of which he was entfrely assured, had a great desire to
get me into his bands. He was nevertheless of opinion that
he must, give me time to reassure myself of safety in order
to take me with the greater facilitj^."
We may add to all this that Henri de Campion, sought after
sharply, and closely shut up m his retreat at Aaet, under the
protection of the Dulce de Vendome, having fled from
France and joined his friend the Count de Beaupuis at
Rome, gives an account of the obstinate efforts made by
Mazarin to obtain the extradition of the latter, the resist
ance of Pope Innocent X., the regard shown to Beaupuis
when they were compelled to confine him in the Castle of
Saint-Angelo ; all of which bemg equaUy to be met with in
the carnets and letters of Mazarin and the memoirs of
Henri de Campion, places beyond doubt the perfect sin
cerity of the Cardinal's proceedings and the accuracy of his
information. Are not these, we may ask, proofs sufficient to reduce to
naught the interested doubts of La Rochefoucauld and the
passionate denials of the chief of the Fronde, the very clever
but very little truthful Cardinal de Retz, the most ardent
and most obstinate of Mazarin's enemies ? It would seem,
indeed, either that there is no certitude whatever iu history,
or that it must be considered henceforth as a point abso
lutely demonstrated that there was a project determined
upon to Mil Mazarin ; that that project had been conceived
by Madame de Chevreuse, and in some sort imposed by her
upon Beaufort with the aid of Madame de Montbazon ; that
Beaufort had for principal accomplices the Count de Beau
puis and Alexandre de Campion ; that Henri de Campion

98 Political Women.
had entered later into the affair, at the pressing soUcitation
of the Duke, as well as two other officers of secondary rank ;
that during the month of August there were divers serious
attempts to put it into execution, particularly the last one
after the banishment of Madame de Montbazon, at the very
end of August or rather on the 1st of September; and that
such attempt only failed through circumstances altogether
independent of the will of the conspfrators.

CHAPTER V.
FAILURE OF THE PLOT TO ASSASSINATE MAZARIN. ARREST
OP BEAUFORT, BANISHMENT OP MADAME DE CHEVREUSE,
AND DISPERSION OF THE " IMPORTANTS."
Let us nowinqufre how the last attempt against Mazarin's
life — that nocturnal ambuscade so well planned and so
deUberately set about on the 1st of September, 1643 —
chanced to fail, and what was the result of such failure.
Without stopping to discuss the conjectures of Campion on
this point, it may suffice to state that Mazarin, who was on
his guard, evaded the blow destined for him by not visiting
the Queen during the evening on wliich it was resolved to
kill Mm as he should return from the Louvre. Next day the
scene was changed. A rumour spread rajsidlj' that the Prime
Minister had expected to have been murdered by Beaufort
and his friends, that he had escaped, fortune having declared
in his favour. A plot to assassinate, more especially when
it fails, invariably excites the strongest indignation, and the
man who has extricated himself from a great peril and
seems destined to sweep all such from his path, readily
finds adlierents and defenders. A host of people who would
probably have supported Beaufort victorious, now flocked
to offer their swords and services to the Cardinal, and on
that morning he went to the Louvre escorted by three
hundred gentlemen.
For several days previously, Mazarin had seen < learlj-

loo Political Women.
that, cost what it might, he must cut his way through the
knotted intricacy of the situation, and that the moment had
arrived for forcing Anne of Austria to choose her part.
The occasion was decisive. If the peril which he had just
undergone, and which was only suspended over his head,
did not suffice to draw the Queen from her incertitude, it
would prove that she did not love him ; and Mazarin knew
well that, amidst the many dangers surrounding him, his
entire strength lay in the Queen's affection, and that thereon
depended his present safety and future fate. Whether,
therefore, through pohcy or sincere affection, it was always
to Anne of Austria's heart that he addressed himself, and
at the outset of the crisis he had said to himself: "If I
believed that the Queen was merelj' making use of me
through necessity, without having any personal inclination
for me, I would not stay here three days longer."* But
enough has been said to show plainly that Anne of Austria
loved Mazarin. Comparing him with his rivals, she appre
ciated Mm daily more and more. She admired the precision
and clearness of his intellect, his finesse and penetration,
and that extraordinary energy which enabled him to bear
the weight of government with marvellous ease — his quick
and accurate introspection, his profound prudence, and at
the same time the judicious vigour of his resolves. She
saw the affairs of France prospering on all sides under Ms
fii-m and skUful hand. The Cardinal, it is true, was not
quite a nullity, in the fierce war which had inaugurated the
new reign so dazzlingly ; but a power of no shght weight
was manifest in the success which had foUowed his advent
* Entry in Carnet, iii. p. 10, in Spanish :— " Sy yo creyera lo que dicen
flue S. M. se sierve di mi per necessidad, sin tener alguna inclination, no
pararia aqui tres dias."

Political Women. loi
to office, and which proved to startled Europe that the vic
tory of Rocroy was not a lucky stroke of chance. When
every member of the Council was opposed to the siege of
ThionvUle, and when Turenne himself, on being consulted,
did not venture to declare his opinion on the subject, it was
Mazarin who had insisted with an unflinching persistence
that the victory of Rocroy should be profited by, and that
France should extend her frontier to the Rhine. That pro
position, doubtless, emanated from the youthful conqueror,
but Mazarm had the merit of comprehending, sustaining, and
causing it to triumph. If no first minister had ever before
been so served by such a general, neither had general ever
been so supported by such a minister ; and thanks to both,
on the llth of August, whilst the chivalrous Importants
were exliausting their combined talents in putting a shameful
affront upon the noble sister of the hero who had just served
France so gloriously, and who was about to aggrandize it
further — whilst they were displaying their vapid and turgid
eloquence in the salons, or sharpening their poniards in
gloomy councU chambers, TMonviUe, then one of the chief
strongholds of the Empire, surrendered after an obstinate
defence. Thus, the Regency of Anne of Austria had opened
under the most brilliant auspices.
But in the height of this national glory and signal
triumph. Queen Anne must indeed have shuddered when
Mazarm placed before her aU the proofs of the odious con
spiracy formed against him. Explanations the most imnute
and confidential thereupon ensued between them. It was
now more than ever compulsory for her to " raise the
mask," * to sacrifice to a manifest necessity the circumspec
tion she was studious of preserving — to brave somewhat
' Quitarse la maschera." Camet, ii. p. 65.

* (( /

I02 Political Women.
fmther the tittie-tattie of a few devotees of either sex, and
at all 'events to permit her Prime Mhiister to defend his
Hfe. Up to this moment Anne of Austria had hesitated,
for reasons which may be readUy comprehended. But
Madame de Montbazon's insolence had greatly irritated her;
the conviction she acqufred that numerous attempts to as
sassinate Mazarin had only by chance failed, and might be
renewed, decided her; and it was, therefore, towards the
close of August, 1643, when the date of that declared ascend
ancy, open and unrivalled, must be certainly fixed, of the
Minister of the Queen Regent. These conspirators, by pro
ceeding to the last extremities, and thereby making her
tremble for Mazarin's life, hastened the triumph ofthe happj-
Cardinal; and on the morrow ofthe last nocturnal ambush
in which he was marked for destruction, Jules Mazarin became
absolute master of the Queen's heart, and more powerful
than Richelieu had ever been after the Day of Dupes.
The minister's carnets wUl be searched in vain for any
traces of the explanations which Mazarin must have had
with the Queen during this grave conjuncture. Such
explanations are not of a nature likely to be forgotten, and
of which there is any need to take notes. An obscure
passage, however, is to be met with, written in Spanish, of
which the following words have a meaning clear enough
to be understood ; "I ought no longer to have any doubt,
since the Queen, in an excess of goodness, has told me that
nothing could deprive me of the post which she has done
me the honour of giving me near her ; nevertheless, as fear
is the inseparable companion of affection, &:c."* At this
anxious moment, Mazarin was attacked with a slight iUness,
* Camet, iii. p. 45.—" Mas contodo esto siendo el temor un compa-
gnero inseparabile dell' affection," &c.

Political Women. 103
brought on by incessant labour and wearing anxieties, and
an attack of jaundice having supervened, the Cardinal
jotted down the foUowing brief but highly suggestive memo
randum : — "La giallezza cagionata da soverchio amorei" *
Madame de MottevUle was in attendance on Anne of
Austria when the rumour of the abortive attempt at assassi
nation brought a crowd of courtiers to the Louvre in hot
haste to protest their devotedness to the Crown. The
Queen, with great emotion, whispered to her trusty lady-ui-
waiting: "Ere eight and forty hours elapse you shall see
how I will avenge myself for the evil tricks these false
friends have played me." " Never," adds Madame de Motte
viUe, " can the remembrance of those few brief words be
effaced from my mind. I saw at that moment, by the fire
that flashed in the Queen's eyes, and in fact by what hap
pened on that very evening and next day, what it is to be a
female sovereign when enraged, and with the power of domg
what she pleases." \ Had the cautious lady-in-waiting been
less discreet, she might have added, " especially when that
sovereign lady is a woman in love."
The break-up and dispersion of the Importants once
decided upon, the first step was to arrest Beaufort, and
bring him to trial. To this the Queen gave her consent.
Of the authority Mazarin had acquired, such proceeding
was a striking indication, and showed how far Anne of
Austria might one day go in defence of a minister who was
dear to her. The Duke de Beaufort had been, before her
husband's death, the man iu whom the Queen placed most
confidence, and for some time he was thought destined to
play the briUiant part of a royal favourite. In a brief space
he had effectually thrown away his chance by his pre-
* Carnet, iv. p. 3. t Memoires, vol. i. p. 185,

I04 Political Women.
sumptuous conduct, his evident incapacity, and yet
more by his pubhc liaison with Madame de Montbazon.
StiU the Queen had shown a somewhat singular weakness m
his favour, and at the expfration of three short months to
sign an order for his arrest was a great step — necessary, it is
true, but extreme, and which was the manifest sign of an
entire change m the heart and intimate relations of Anne
of Austria. The dissimulation even with which she acted in
that affair marks the dehberative firmness of her resolution.
The 2nd of September, 1643, was truly a memorable day
in the career of Mazarin, and we may say, in the annals of
France ; for it witnessed the confirming of the royal power,
shaken to its base by the deaths of Richelieu and Louis
XIIL, and the ruin of the party of the Importants.
On the mormng of the 2nd, all Paris and its Court rang
with the report of the ambuscade laid for Mazarin the night
previous, between the Louvre and the Hotel de Cleves. The
five conspfrators who had joined hands with Beaufort in it
had taken flight and placed themselves in safety. Beaufort
and Madame de Chevreuse could not imitate them : flight
for them would have been a self-denunciation. The
intrepid Duchess therefore had not hesitated to appear at
Court, and she was at the Regent's side during the evening
of the 2nd together with another person, a stranger to these
dark plots and even incapable of putting faith in them — a
very different enemy of Mazarin— the pious and noble
Madame de Hautefort. As for the Duke, careless and
courageous, he had gone to the chase in the morning, and
at his return he went, according to his custom, to present
his homage to the Queen. On entering the Louvre he met
his mother, Madame de Vend6me, and his sister the
Duchess de Nemours, who had accompanied the Queen aU

Political Women. 105
day and remarked her emotion. They did all they could to
prevent him going up stairs, and entreated him to absent
himself for a while. He, without troubling himself in the
slightest degree, answered them in the words of the doomed
Duke de Guise — "They dare not!" — and entered the
Queen's great cabinet, who received him with the best grace
possible, and asked him all sorts of questions about his
hunting, " as though," says Madame de MotteviUe, " she
had no other thought in her mind." The Cardinal having
come in in the midst of this gentle chat, the Queen rose
and bade him follow her. It appeared as if she wished to
take counsel with him in her chamber. She entered it,
followed by her Minister. At the same time the Duke de
Beaufort, about to leave, met Guitant, captain of the guard,
who arrested him, and commanded the Duke to follow him
in the names of the King and Queen. The Prince, without
showmg any surprise, after having looked fixedly at Mm,
said, "Yes, I wUl; but this, I must own, is strange
enough." Then turning towards Mesdames de Chevreuse
and de Hautefort, who were talkhig together, he said to
them, " Ladies, you see that the Queen has caused me to be
arrested." The young nobleman then submitted to the
royal mandate without offering the shghtest resistance;
slept that night at the Louvre, and the next morning was
taken to the donjon of Vincennes, while a general decree of
banishment was pronounced against all the principal
members of the faction.
The Vendomes were ordered to retfre to Anet ; and the
Chateau d'Anet having soon become what the Hotel de
Vendome at Paris had been, a haunt of the conspirators,
Mazarin demanded them from the Duke Csesar, who took
good care not to give them up. The Cardinal was almost

io6 Political Women.
reduced to the necessity of laying siege to the chateau in
regular form. He threatened to enter the place by main
force and lay hands on Beaufort's accompHces ; unable to
endure the scandal that a prince even of the blood should
brave law and justice with impunity, he had determined to
push matters to the uttermost, and was about to take ener
getic measures, when the Duke de Vendome himself decided
on quitting France, and went to Italy to await the fall of
Mazarin, as formerly he had awaited in England that of
Richelieu. The arrest of Beaufort, the dispersion of his accompHces,
his friends and his family, was the first indispensable mea
sure forced upon Mazarin to enable him to face a danger
that seemed most imminent. But what would it have
availed Mm to lop off an arm had he left the head untouched
— had Madame de Chevreuse remained at Court, ever ready
to surround the Queen with attention and homage, assi
duous to retam and husband the last remnant of her old
favour, in order to sustain and secretly encourage the mal
contents, inspire them with her audacity, and stir them up
to fresh conspfracies ? She stUl held in her grasp the
scarcely-severed threads of the plot ; and at her right hand
there was a man too wary to allow himself to be again com
promised by such dark doings, but quite ready to profit by
them, and whom Madame de Chevreuse had sedulously
exhibited not only to Anne of Austria, but to France and
all Europe, as a man smgularly capable of conducting State
affairs. Mazarin, therefore, did not hesitate ; but on the
day following Beaufort's arrest, Chateauneuf, Montresor,
and St. Ybar were banished. The first-named was invited
to present himself at Court, kiss the Queen's hand, and
then betake himself to his government in Tourame. Riclie-

Political Women. 107
Heu's late Keeper of the Seals deemed it something to have
escaped an open disgrace, to have resumed the eminent post
he had formerly occupied under the Crown, and the govern
ment of a large province. Yet did his ambition soar far
higher stiU : but he kept it in check, and merely postponed
its flight for a less stormy hour — obeyed the Queen, skil
fuUy remained friends with her, and Hkewise kept on very
good terms with her Prime Minister — biding his time until
he might displace him. He had to wait a long time, how
ever ; but eventually did not quit Hfe without once more
grasping, for a moment at least, that power which the indul
gence of an insensate passion had lost Mm, but wMch an
inviolable and unswerving friendship in the end restored to
hun.* Madame de Chevreuse unhappUy lacked the wisdom dis
played throughout this fiery ordeal by Chateauneuf. She
forgot for once to look with a smUmg face upon the passing
storm, in which she was too suddenly caught to escape
altogether scatheless. La Chatre — one of her friends, and
who saw her almost every day — relates that during the very
same evemng on which Beaufort was arrested at the Louvre,
" Her Majesty told the Duchess that she believed her to be
innocent of the prisoner's designs, but that nevertheless to
avoid scandal she deemed it fitting that Madame de Che
vreuse should quietly withdraw to Dampierre, and that after
making some short sojourn there she should retire into
Touraine."! The Duchess, therefore, saw plainly that she
had nothing for it but to go at once to Dampierre ; but no
* Chateauneuf held the seals from March, 1650, when Mazarin went
into voluntary exile, until April, 1651. He died in 1653, at the age of
seventy-three. + " AUontanar Cheverosa che fa mille cabelle.'' Mazarin's Carnet, iii.
81, 82.

io8 Political Women.
sooner did she arrive at her favourite chateau than, instead
of remaining quiet, she began to move heaven and earth to
save those who had compromised themselves for her sake.
She began, indeed, to knot the meshes of a new web of in
trigue, and even found means of placing a letter in the
Queen's own hand. Message after message was, however,
sent to hasten her departure — Montagu being despatched
to her on the same errand, as was also La Porte. She
received them haughtily, and deferred her journey under
divers pretexts. It will be remembered that on going to
meet the Duchess when on her road from Brussels, Mon
tagu had offered her, on the Queen's part as weU as that of
Mazarin, to discharge in her name the debts she had con
tracted during so many years of exUe. The Duchess had
afready received heavy sums, but was unwiUing to set forth
for Touraine untU after the Queen should have performed
^U her promises. Marie de Rohan had left the Louvre and
Paris, her bosom swelHng with grief and rage, as Hannibal
had qmtted Italy. She felt that the Court and capital and
the Queen's inner cfrcle formed the true field of battle, and
that to remove herself from it was to abandon the victory to
the enemy. Her retreat, iadeed, was an occasion of mourn
ing to the entfre CathoHc party, as weU as to the friends of
peace and the Spanish alhance, but, on the contrary, of
pubhc rejoicing for the friends of the Protestant aUiance.
The Count d'Estrade actually went to the Louvre on the
part of the Priace of Orange, from whom he was accredited,
to thank the Regent officially for it.
Madame de Chevreuse made her way, therefore, to her
estate of Duverger, between Tours and Anglers. The
deep sohtude that there reigned around her embittered all
the more the feehng of defeat. She kept up, however, a

Political Women. 109
brisk correspondence with her stepmother, Madame de
Montbazon — banished to Rochefort ; and the two exUed
Duchesses mutuaUy exhorted each other to leave no stone
unturned towards effectiug the overthrow of their common
enemy. Vanquished at home, Madame de Chevreuse cen
tred all her hopes in foreign lands. She revived the friendly
relations which she had never ceased to cherish with Eng
land, Spain, and the Low Countries. Her chief prop, the
centre and interposer of her intrigues, was Lord Goiing,
our ambassador at the French Court; who, Hke his ill-
starred master, and more especially his royal mistress,
belonged to the Spanish party. Croft, an Enghsh gentle
man who had figured in the train of the Duchess some
years previously, bestfrred Mmself actively and openly in
her behalf, whUst the Chevaher de Jars intrigued warUy and
in secret for Chateauneuf. Beneath the mantle of the Eng
lish embassy a vast correspondence was carried on between
Madame de Chevreuse, Vendome, BouUlon, and the rest of
the Malcontents.

CHAPTER VI.
CONSEQUENCES OF THE QUARREL BETWEEN THE DUCHESSES
DE LONGUEVILLE AND DE MONTBAZON.  FATAL DUEL BE
TWEEN THE DUKE DE GUISE AND COUNT MAURICE DE
COLIGNY.
As has been said, the 2nd of September, 1643, had been
truly a memorable day in the career of Mazarin, and, indeed,
in the annals of France ; for it witnessed the confirming of the
royal power, shaken to its base by the deaths of RicheHeu
and Louis XIIL, and the ruin of that dangerous faction the
Importants. The intestine discords which threatened the
new reign were thus forced to await a more favourable op
portunity for development. They did not raise their heads
again untU five years afterwards — on the breaking out of
the Fronde, in which they showed themselves just the same
men as ever, with the same designs, the same poHtics,
foreign and domestic; and after raising sanguinary and
sterile commotions, re-appeared only to break themselves to
pieces once more against the genius of Mazarin and the
invincible firmness of Anne of Austria.
Mazarin, therefore, who soon found himself without a
rival in the Queen's good graces, continued steadUy to carry
on within and without the realm the system of his prede
cessor, and royalty, as well as France, reckoned upon a suc
cession of halcyon years, thanks to the re-union of the
Princes of the blood with the Crown, to the tactics and

Political Women.

Ill

personal conduct of the Prime Minister, and to his political
sagacity, seconded by the mUitary genius of the Duke
d'Enghien. The imprudence of Madame de Montbazon
and her lover Beaufort in the affair of the dropped letters
had the effect of increasing Mazarin's power incalculably,
and that at the very moment that a splendid victory gained
by the young Duke d'Enghien had made him and his sister
paramount at Court — ^paramount by a popularity so univer
sal that it almost made the Queen and her minister thefr
proteges rather than thefr patrons.
The Duke d'Enghien had returned to Paris after Rocroy,
and at the end of a campaign in which he had taken a verj'
important stronghold, passed the Rhine with the French
army, and carried the war into Germany. The Queen had
received him as the Hberator of France. Mazarin, who
looked more to the reality than the semblance of power,
intimated to the young conqueror that his sole ambition was
to be his chaplain and man of business with the Queen. At
a distance, the Duke d'Enghien had praised everything that
had been done, and came from the camp over head and ears
in love with Madlle. du Vigean, and furious that any one
should have dared to insult a member of his house. He
adored his sister, and he had a warm friendship for Cohgny.*
, He was aware of and had favoured his passion for that sis
ter. Engaged himself in a suit as ardent as it was chaste,
he readUy comprehended that his beautiful sister might weU
have been not insensible to the fervent assiduities of the
brave Maurice, but he revolted at the thought of the ama
tory effusions of a Madame de FouqueroUes being attributed
to her, and he assumed a tone in the matter which effect-
* Grandson of the famous Admiral de CoKgny, who perished in the
massacre of St. Bartholomew.

112

Political Women.

uaUy arrested any further insinuation from even the most
insolent and daring.
Amongit the especial friends of Beaufort and Madame de
Montbazon, foremost of aU stood the Duke de Guise.* They
had manoeuvred to secure him as well as the rest of his
family to their party, through Gaston, Duke d'Orleans, who
had espoused as his second wife a princess of the house of
Lorraine — the lovely Marguerite, sister of Charles IV. and
second daughter of Duke Francis. The Duke de Guise
had afready played many strange pranks and committed
more than one folly, but he had not as yet signal^ faUed in
any serious enterprise. His incapacity was not patent. He
had the prestige of his name, youth, good looks, and a cou
rage carried even to temerity. The avowed slave of Madame
de Montbazon, he had espoused her quarrel, and to gratifj^
her had jomed in propagating those calumnious reports,
but without exhibiting the violence of Beaufort, and had
remained erect, confronting and defying the victorious
Condes. Cohgny had had the good sense to keep aloof during the
storm, for fear of still further compromising Madame de
Longueville by exhibiting himself openly as her champion :
but a few months having elapsed, he thought that he might
at last show himself, and, as a certain authority t teUs us,
"the imprisonment of the Duke de Beaufort having de
prived that noble of the chance of measuring swords with
him, he addressed Mmself to the Duke de Guise." La
RochefoucaiUd says, " the Duke d'Enghien, unable to testify
to the Duke de Beaufort, who was in prison, the resentment
he felt at what had passed between Madame de Longueville
* Henry, son of Charles de Guise, and grandson of the Balafri.
f An inedited Memoir upon the Regency.

Political Women. 1 1 3
and Madame de Montbazon, left Cohgny at Hberty to fight
with the Duke de Guise, who had mixed himself up in this
affair." The Duke d'Enghien, therefore, knew and approved
of what Coligny did. In fact, he found Mmself without an
adversary in the affafr of sufficient rank to justify a prince
of the blood ia drawing his sword against him. So far as
regards Madame de LongueviUe, it is absurd to suppose
that, desfrous of vengeance, she it was who had urged on
Cohgny, for everybody ascribed to her a line of conduct
characterised by gre^t moderation, as contrasted with that
of the Princess de Cond^. Far from envenomiag the
quarrel, she wished to hush it up, and Madame de Motte
vUle thus significantly aUudes to that fact : " The enmity
she bore Madame de Montbazon being proportionate to the
love she bore her husband, it did not carry her so far but
that she found it more a propos to dissimulate that outrage
than otherwise."
La Rochefoucauld gives some particulars which explain
what follows. CoHgnj':, just risen out of a long Uhiess, was
stiU very much enfeebled, and, moreover, not very " sMlful
of fence." Such was his condition when, as the champion
of Madame de LongueviUe, he confronted the Duke de
Guise in morial duel, whilst the latter, Hke most heroes of
the parade-ground, possessed rare cunniag at carte and
tierce. With regard to the seconds chosen, they are ia
every respect worthy of notice. In those days, seconds
were witnesses of the duel in wMch they themselves fought.
Cohgny selected as Ms second, and to give the chaUenge, as
was then the custom, Godefroi, Count d'Estrades, a man
of cool and tried courage. The Duke de Guise's second
was his equerry, the Marquis de Bridieu, a Limousin gen
tleman and brave officer, faithfuUy attached to the house of

114 Political Women.
Lorraine, who, in 1650, admfrably defended Guise against
the Spanish army and against Turenne, and for that brave
defence, during wMch there were twenty-four days of open
trenches, he was made Heutenant-general.
It was arranged that the affair should come off at the
Place Royale — the usual arena for those sort of encounters,
and which had been a hundred times stained with the best
blood of France. The mansions around the Place Royale
were then tenanted by ladies of the highest rank and
fashion, amongst the rest. Marguerite, Duchess de Rohan,
Madame de Guemene, Madame de ChaiUnes, Madame de
St. Geran, Madame de Sable, the Countess de St. Maure,
and many others, under the mfluence of whose bright eyes
those volatile and vahant French gentlemen dehghted to
cross swords. And there many a noble form had been
struck down never to rise again, and many a noble heart
had throbbed its last. Dming the first quarter of the
seventeenth century, the duel was a custom at once useful
and disastrous, inasmuch as it kept up the warlike spirit of
the nobles, -but which mowed them down as fast as war
itself, and but too frequently for frivolous causes. To draw
swords for trifles had become the obHgatory accompaniment
of good manners ; and as gallantry had its finished fops, so
the duel had its refined rufflers. In the comparatively
short period of a few years, nine hundred gentlemen perished
in these combats. To stop this scourge, RicheHeu issued a
royal edict, which punished death by death, and sent the
offenders from the Place Royale to the Place de Greve. On
this head RicheHeu showed Mmself inflexible, and the
examples of Montmorency-BoutevUle, beheaded with Ms
second, the Count DeschappeUes, for having chaUenged
Beuvron and fought with him on the Place Royale at mid-

Political Women. 115
day, impressed a salutary terror, and rendered infraction of
the edict very rare. Coligny, however, braved everything ;
he challenged Guise, and on the appointed day the two
noble adversaries, accompanied by their seconds, D'Estrades
and Bridieu, met upon the Place Royale.
Of this memorable duel, thanks to contemporary memoirs
as weU as various kinds of MSS., the minutest detaUs have
been preserved.
On the 12th of December, 1643, D'Estrades went in the
morning to caU out the Duke de Guise on the part of
Cohgny. The rendezvous was fixed for the same day, at
three o'clock m the afternoon, at the Place Royale. The
two adversaries did not appear abroad during the whole
morning, and at three o'clock they were on the ground. A
sentence is ascribed to Guise which invests the scene with an
unwonted grandeur, and arrays for the last time in bitterest
animosity and deadly antagonism the two most illustrious
representatives of the League wars in the persons . of thefr
descendants. On unsheathing his sword Guise said to
Cohgny : " We are about to decide the old feud of our two
houses, and to see what a difference there is between the
blood of Guise and that of Coligny."
Coligny's only reply was to deal his adversary a long
lunge ; but, weak as he was, his rearward foot faUed him,
and he sank upon his knee. Guise advanced upon him and
set Ms foot upon Ms sword, in such manner as though he
would have said, " I do not desire to kill you, but to treat
you as you deserve, for having presumed to address yourself
to a prince of such birth as mine, without his having given
you just cause," — and he struck him with the flat of his
sword-blade. Coligny, furious, coUected his strength, threw
himself backwards, disengaged his sword, and recommenced I 2

ii6 Political Women.
the strife. In this second bout. Guise was slightly wounded
in the shoulder, and Cohgny in the hand. At length. Guise,
in makmg another thrust at Ms adversary, grasped Ms
sword-blade, by which his hand was slightly cut, but,
wresting it from CoHgny's grasp, dealt him a desperate
thrust in the arm which put hun hors de combat.' Mean-
wMle D'Estrades and Bridieu had grievously wounded each
other. Such was the issue of that memorable duel — the last, it
appears, of the famous encounters on the Place Royale.
We thus see that, though cowed, the French noblesse had
not been tamed by Richelieu's solemn edict. This last
duel did very Httle honour to Coligny, and almost every
body took part with the Duke de Guise. The Queen
manifested very lively displeasure at the violation of the
edict, and the Duke d'Orleans, urged thereto by Ms wife
and the Lorraine family, made a loud outcry. The Prince
and Princess de Conde also found themselves compelled to
declare against Cohgny — doubly in the wrong, both because
he had been the chaUenger and been unfortunate in the
result. Proof that there was an understanding between
Colignj'- and the Duke d'Enghien is evident from the latter
not deserting the unlucky champion of his sister, that he
received the wounded man into his house at Paris, after
wards at Samt Mam', and that he did not cease from sur
rounding him with his 'protection and care in spite of Ms
father, the Prince de Conde. When the matter was referred
to the Parhament, conformably to the edict, and the two
adversaries were summoned to appear, the Duke de Guise
announced his intention of repairing to the chamber with a
retinue of princes and great nobles ; whilst, on his side, the
Duke d'Enghien threatened to escort his friend after the

Political Women. 117
same fashion. But the imtiative proceedings were stayed
through the deplorable condition into wMch poor Cohgny
was known to have fallen.
That unfortunate young man langmshed for some months,
and died in the latter part of May, 1644, alike in conse
quence of his wounds and of despair for havmg so badly sus
tained the cause of his own house, as well as that of Madame
de LongueviUe.
This affafr, with all its dramatic features and tragical
termination, created an immense and painful impression not
only in Paris, but tM'oughout France. It momentarily
awakened party feelmgs which had for some time slumbered,
and suspended the festivals of the wmter of 1644. It not
only occupied the famihes more closely concerned and the
Court, but forcibly affected the whole of the Mghest class of
society, and long remained the absorbing topic of every
saloon. It may be readUy conceived that the story in
spreading thus widely became enlarged with imaginary inci
dents one after another. At first, it was supposed that
Madame de LongueviUe was in love with Coligny. That
was necessary to give the greater interest to the narrative.
From thence came the next invention, that she herself had
armed CoHgny's hand, and that D'Estrades, charged to
challenge the Duke de Guise, having remarked to Cohgny
that the Duke might probably repudiate the injurious words
attributed to him, and that honour would thus be satisfied,
Coligny had thereupon replied : " That is not the question.
I pledged my word to Madame de LongueviUe to fight Mm
on the Place Royale, and I cannot faU in that promise." *
There was no stopping a cavaher in such a chivafrous course
as that, and Madame de Longueville would not have been the
* Mad. de MotteviUe.

1 1 8 Political Women.
sister of the victor of Rocroy — a heroine worthy of sustaining
comparison with those of Spain, who beheld their lovers die
at thefr feet in the tournament — had she not been present
at the duel between Guise and Coligny. It is asserted,
therefore, that on the 12th of December she was stationed
in an hotel on the Place Royale belonging to the Duchess
de Rohan, and that there, concealed behind a window-
curtain, she had witnessed the discomfiture of her preux
chevalier. Then, as now, it was verse — that is to say, the baUad —
wMch set its seal on the popular incident of the moment.
When the event was an unlucky one, the song was a bur-
lesquely pathetic complaint, and always with a vein of
raUlery running tMough it. Such was the effusion with
which every ruelle rang, and it was reaUy set to music, for
the notation is stiU to be found in the Recueil de Chansons
notees, preserved at the Arsenal at Paris. It ran thus :—
"Essuyez vos beaux yeux,
Madame de LongueviUe,
Coligny se porte mieux.
S'il a demande la vie,
Ne I'en blSmez nnUement ;
Car c'est pour etre votre amant
Qu'U veut vivre ^temeUement."

BOOK III.

CHAPTER I.
THE DUCHESS DE LONGUEVILLE AND THE DUKE DE LA
ROCHEFOUCAULD.
That Madame de LongueviUe witnessed the duel on the
Place Royale seems to rest on no rehable authority. Such
a trait is so utterly at variance with her character that its
attribution would impute to her the manners of a semi-
Itahanised princess of the Valois race. There are besides
no sufficient grounds for believing that her affections had for
a moment been given to Cohgny, though doubtless her innate
tenderness must have been touched by his chivafrous love
and devotion. Miossens, afterwards better known as Mar
shal d'Albret, next tried in vain to win a heart wMch had
hitherto appeared insensible to the master-passion, but
after an obstinate persistence was ultimately constrained to
relinquish all hope. When, in 1645, M. de LonguevUle
went as minister-plenipotentiary to the Congress of Miin-
ster, the young Duchess remained in Paris, her element
being stiU the social sphere of the Court solely — a taste for
poHtical Hfe not having yet been developed through the
impulse of her affections. Let us here add that, notwith
standing the almost unanimous assertion of contemporaries
at this period that even women could not behold Madame
de LongueviUe without admiration, the heart of this pre
eminently gifted creature seems amidst the universal homage
to have been proof against aU and every repeated assault.

122 Political Women.
Anne of Austria loved her but little, partly through a jealous
feehng created by her singular beauty, partly from her great
reputation for wit, and also from her perpetual wranglings
for precedence with other princesses of the blood. In fact,
in order to lose no tittle of the prerogatives derived from
her bfrth, Madame de LongueviUe had obtained a royal
brevet from the king which maintained her in the rank
which she would have otherwise lost by her marriage. A
pride so exacting does not appear to agree with the pecuHar
nonchalance that was one of her striking characteristics ; but,
later in Hfe, when she had become devout and penitent, she
took care to explain that seeming contradiction. " I have
been defined," said she, " as having, as it were, two indi-
viduahties of opposite nature in me, and that I could inter
change them" at i;'any moment ; but that arose from .the
different situations in which I was placed, for I was dead,
like unto the dead, to aught which slightly affected me, and
keenly ahve to the smallest things wMch interested me."
Reading and study were never among the tMngs which
stfrred her into ammation. Entfrely occupied with her
fascinations and individual sentiments, at Jio period of her
life did she ever think of repairing the early neglect of her
education. In this respect she was inferior, on the authority
even of her apologists, to many ladies of the Court and city.
Intoxicated as she had been by the fumes of the incense
wMch flattery had wafted around her in the circle of the
Hotel de RambouiUet, she probably had no perception of
her faUings on that essential point. The spontaneity of her
wit, her natural aptitude to comprehend and decide upon
all sorts of questions, made up for her deficiency in that
kind of information which is acquired from books and other
modes of study, and often stood her in good stead, both on

Political Women. 123
the part of her detractors and of her partisans, of the lofty
characteristics of " great genius." M. Cousin, who is by
no means severe as regards the errors or demerits of the
Duchess, says that " she did not know how to write."
Mademoiselle de Montpensier and Madame de MottevUle,
however, both express the very opposite opinion. The
first remarks, speaking of the Countess de Maure : — " The
precision and the poHsh of her stjde would be incomparable
if Madame de Longueville had never written." The second
declares that " this lady has ever written as well as any one
living." The fact is, so far as may be judged from those of
her letters which have come down to us, that Madame de
Longueville's style bore the reflex of her conversation :
there are some passages very remarkable in thefr force,
some phrases altogether trite and insignificant. This
opinion is quite beside the consideration of her diction in
a grammatical point of view. In her written as in her
spoken language, she seems to have been impassive or to
have kindled into animation accordmg as her thoughts
were " dead or living," to usB her own phrase. Speakmg
and writing, however, are two very different things, both
requiring an especial cultivation ; and as Madame de
LongueviUe was defective in anything Hke what is termed
"regular education" or "sound instruction," that fact
became apparent so soon as she took her pen in hand.
Her great natural endowments shone on paper with diffi
culty, through faults of every kmd which escaped her notice.
It is really no smaU gift to be able to express one's senti
ments and ideas in their natural order, and with aU their
true and various shades, in terms neither too homely nor
far-fetched, or which neither enfeeble nor exaggerate
them. It is by no means rare to meet with men in society

124 Political Women.
remarkable for intelhgence, nerve, and grace when they
speak, but who become uninteUigible when they commit
thefr thoughts to writing. The fact is, that writing is an
art — a very difficult art, and one which must be carefuUy
learned. Madame de Longueville was ignorant of this, as
were some of the most eminent women of her time. There
exists unquestionable evidence to prove that the Princess
Palatine was a person of large inteUigence, who was able to
hold her own with men of the greatest capacity. De Retz
and Bossuet teU us so. Some letters of the Palatine, how
ever, are extant in which, whUst there is no lack of soHditj',
refinement, and mgenuity of thought, it wiU be seen that
they often abound with errors, obscure phraseology, and not
unfrequently outrageously violate even the commonest rules
of orthography. It must not, however, by any means be
inferred from this that the Palatine had not a mind of the
first order, but only that she had not been framed to render
clearly and fittingly her ideas and sentiments in writing.
Madame de LonguevUle had been no better taught. There
fore aU that has been said about her on this score must be
restricted, alUie as to the defects of her education and the
brilHancy of her genius. With those Frenchwomen who
have written at once largely and loosely, it is pleasant to
contrast their contemporaries, Madame de Sevigne and
Madame la Fayette, both of whom always wrote weU.
In the first place, these two admirable ladies had received
quite another sort of education to that of Madame de Lon
gueviUe. They had had the advantage of being instructed
by men of letters skUled in the art of teaching. Menage
was the chief instructor both of Mademoiselle de Rabutin
and MademoiseUe de Lavergiie — to call those accompHshed
letter- writers by their maiden names. Manage trained them

Political Women. 125
carefuUy in composition, correcting rigidly thefr themes,
pointing out their errors, cultivating their happy instincts,
and modeUing and polishing their vein and style. That
talented tutor appears also to have been thefr platonic
adorer — more platonic indeed than he desfr'ed. In his
verses he celebrated by turns la formosissima Laverna and
la bellissima Marchesa di Sevigni, and his lessons were
doubtless given con amore.
Nature had been lavish indeed in all her gifts to the
latter, giving her a precision and solidity aUied to an
inexhaustible playfulness and sparkling vivacity. Art, in
her, wedded to genius, resulted in that incomparable epis
tolary style which left Balzac and Voiture far away behind
her, and which Voltaire himself even has not surpassed.
We must now speak of him who was destined to bias,
sway, and finaUy determine the' future course of Madame de
LonguevUle's life through the conquest of her heart and
mind — La Rochefoucauld — the man who induced her [ to
embark with him on the stormy sea of poHtics, whose frre-
sistible tide swept her past the landmarks of loyalty and
reputabihty to make shipwreck, amongst the rocks and shoals
of civil war, of fame, fortune, and domestic happiness.
Up to the moment of her appearance on the scene of
party strife in connection with La Rochefoucauld, Madame
de Longueville had not achieved much political notoriety.
Neither had her fafr fame been compromised by the very
insignificant gallantry of a long train of court danglers, nor
through her involuntary participation in the affair of the
letters with Madame de Montbazon. She could scarcely
fail to be touched by the devotion of Cohgny, who
had shed Ms blood to avenge her of the outrage of that
vindictive woman. For a moment, it is true, she had

126 Political Women.
listened carelessly and harmlessly to the attention of the
brave and inteUectual Miossens. Still later she compro
mised herself somewhat with the Duke de Nemours ; but
the only man she truly loved with heart and soul was La
Rochefoucauld. To him she devoted herself wholly; for
him she sacrificed everything — duty, interest, repose, lepu-
tation. For him she staked her fortune and her life.
Through him she exhibited the most equivocal and most
contradictorj^ conduct. It was La Rochefoucauld who
caused her to take part in the Fronde ; who, as he wiUed,
made her advance or recede ; who united her to, or sepa
rated her from, her famUy; who governed her absolutely.
In a word, she consented to be in his hand merely an
heroic mstrument. Pride and passion had doubtless some
thing to do with this Hfe of adventure and that contempt of
peril. But of what stamp must have been that soul which
could find consolation in all this ? And, as often happens,
the man to whom she thus devoted, herself was not wholly
worthy of her. He had infinite spirit ; but he was coldly
calculating, profoundly selfish, meanly ambitious. He
measured others by himself. He was naturaUy as subtle
in evil, as she was disposed spontaneously to virtue. FuU
of finesse m his self-love and in the pursuit of his own
interest, he was, in reahty, the least cliivalrous of Ms sex,
although he affected all the appearance of the loftiest
chivalry. In his, liaison with Madame de LongueviUe he
made love the slave of ambition.
It wUl be necessary to touch only shghtiy upon his career
antecedent to this period. Francis, the sixth seigneur and
second Duke de la Rochefoucauld, was born 15th December
1613. Little is recorded of his early years, he Mmself
having given no detaUs about them. We only know that

Political Women. 127
he was very imperfectly educated, his father being desirous
that he should early adopt the profession of arms. Him
self enjoying royal favour in the Mghest degree, his eldest
son, the young Prince de MarsiUac, profitably felt its in
fluence ; for, as eaily as 1626, he commanded as mestre-de-
camp the Auvergne regiment of cavafry at the siege of Casal.
He took an active part in the Day of Dupes, the period at
wMch his memofr's commence. Two years previously, in
1628, he had married at Mfrebeau a rich and beautiful
hefress of Burgundy, Andree de Vivonne, only daughter of
Andre de Vivoane, Baron of Berandiere and Chasteigneraye,
Grand Falconer of France, Captam in the Guards of the
Queen-Mother, Marie de' Medici, CouncUlor of State, and
one of the most trusty foUowers of Henry IV. The Prince
de MarsUlac was at first in great favour at Court, notwith
standing Ms father's misconduct, but he suddenly compro
mised himself in a very imprudent way. Closely intimate
with that virtuous maid-of-honour, Marie de Hautefort,
whom the saturnine Louis XIII. loved as passionately as
his pecuHar temperament permitted, and also with Made
moiseUe de Chemerault, as lovely as she was witty, he was
bj- them hurried into a blind devotion to the cause of thefr
unhappy mistress and queen, Anne of Austria, " the only
party," says he, with imusual candour, "that I ever honestfy
foUowed." And very soon his confidential relations with the
persecuted prmcess became so marked as necessarUy to
excite RicheHeu's suspicions, the more so that he ventured
to speak of the Cardinal's admimstration in the boldest
terms. His friends advised him to retfre from Court, at
least temporarUy; but, as he wished to employ Ms time use-
fuUy, he joined as a volunteer the army of Marshal de
ChastUlon, who, with Marshal de la MeUleraye, beat Prince

128 Political Women.
Thomas of Savoy at Avein. After behaving with distinction
there, he returned, when the campaign was over, to Court,
exhibiting a conduct stiU more independent, and which
resulted in forcing him to rejoin his father at Blois.
It was through the proximity of his father's chateau of
Verteml to Poitiers, where the Duchess de Chevreuse was
then living in banishment from Court, that the Prince de
MarsiUac first came to aUy himself with the illustrious
poHtical adventuress. At the time when La Rochefoucauld
obtained political notoriety, a crisis occurred in France in
national manners, sentiments, and feelings. The nobles,
long kept under by the strong hand of Richelieu, were again
rising into faction, and a spfrit of intrigue had seized upon
everyone. Although stUl young, Rochefoucauld had renounced enter
prises in which the heart is alone concerned. No longer
engrossed with love, he was wholly given up to ambition ;
and in order to avenge himself of the Queen and Mazarin,
who had not in his opinion evinced sufficient generosity
towards him to satisfy this later passion, he did not hesitate
to fling himself headlong into partisan intrigue and strife
which ended in civil war. To render Mmself the more
formidable, he was above all desirous of securmg to
his party the master-mind of Conde ; and as Madame de
LongueviUe enjoyed the entire confidence of her favomite
brother, and had great influence with Mm, the natural
result was that in due course La Rochefoucauld made per
sistent love to the lovely Duchess. Seduced by the chival
rous manners and romantic antecedents of his youth, and
yielding partly to the occasion, partly to the obstinate
persistence of the suit, and some little perhaps to the
maternal blood in her veins, Madame de LongueviUe at

Political Women. 129
length sm'rendered her heart to the darmg aspfrant. She
could no longer plead early youth as an excuse, for she had
afready numbered twenty-nine summers, and was only
distant by a very small span from that formidable epoch in
woman's Hfe wMch a discriminating writer of the present
day has happily termed the crisis. That turning point in
the Duchess's career was destined to prove fatal to her, and
the crisis was exactly such as that of wMch, in the case of
another celebrated woman, M. Feillet has given a lucid
analysis — the crisis brought about bj^ an frresistible passion.
Let us beware of hastUy applying to Madame de LongueviUe
that maxim of her cynical lover : " Women often thmk they
stUl love him whom they no longer reaUy love. The oppor
tunity of an intrigue, the mental emotion to which gaUantry
gives birth, natural incHnation to the pleasure of being
beloved, and the pain of refusing the lover, together per
suade .them that they cherish a genuine passion when it is
nothing more than mere coquetry." Better had it been
both for herself and for us to believe that she had only so
loved.
. The beauty and intelhgence of the Duchess de Longue
viUe formed certamly, at the commencement, a large share
in the calculating lover's determination to seek a liaison
with the Duke d'Enghien's sister. The crowd of adimrers
was great around her, and that spectacle of itself served to
inflame the ambition of M. de MarsiUac : subsequent re
flection, doubtless, must have redoubled Ms ardour to
achieve the twofold conquest, in love and party. The
Count de Miossens was then paying the most assiduous
court to Madame de LongueviUe ; he was very intimately
connected with MarsUlac, to whom indeed he was nearly
VOL. I, K

130 Political Women.
related, and whom he kept well acquainted with the course
of his amours. His suit to the lovely Duchess proving, as
has been said, entirely unsuccessful, Miossens eventuaUy
left the field clear to MarsiUac, the brave and simple soldier
giving place to the self-seekhig man of the world.

CHAPTER II.
THE DUCHESS DE LONGUEVILLE DRAWN INTO THE VORTEX
OF POLITICS AND CIVIL WAR BY HER LOVE POR LA ROCHE
FOUCAULD.
We have glanced rapidly over the fairest period of
Madame de LonguevUle's youth, over those years wherein
the splendour of her success in the ranks of fashion was not
obtained at the expense of her virtue. The time approaches
in which she is about to yield to the manners of her age,
and to the long-combatted wants of her heart. The love
which she inspired in others, she is, in turn, about to feel
herself, and it is to engage her, at the age of twenty-eight or
twenty-nine, in a fatal connection, wMch will make her un
mindful of aU her conjugal duties, and turn her most brU
Hant quahties against herself, against her family, and against
France. Let us now relate briefly what we know of Madame de
Longueville from the moment of our last mention of her up
to the commencement of 1648. There is nothing recorded
which can authorise the supposition that before the close of
1647 Madame de LongueviUe had ever passed the Hmits of
that noble and graceful gaUantry wMch she saw everywhere
held in honour, the praises of which she heard celebrated at
the H6tel de RambouiUet as weU as at the Hotel de Conde,
in the great verse of CorneiUe and in the turgid effusions of
Voiture. At the time of the duel between Guise and
K 2

132 Political Women.
Cohgny, in 1644, she had seen her twenty-fifth summer.
Each succeeding year seemed only to enhance the power of
her charms, and that power she dehghted in exhibiting. A
thousand adorers pressed around her. Coligny was, perhaps,
nearest to her heart, but had not, however, touched it. But
one cannot, with impunity, trifle with love. That tragic adven
ture of the eldest of the ChatUlons perishing, in the flower of
his youth, by the hand of the eldest of the Guises was quickly
echoed by song and romance through every salon, and cast
a gloom upon the destiny of Madame de LongueviUe, and
gave her, at an early period, a fame at once aristocratic and
popular, wMch prepared her wonderfuUy to play a great
part in that other tragi-comedy, heroic and gallant, caUed
the Fronde. The glory of her brother was reflected upon
her, and she responded to it somewhat by her own success
at Court and in the salons. She acquired more and more
the manners of the times. Coquetiy and witty taUt formed
her sole occupation. Her deHcate condition not permitting
. her to accompany M. de Longueville to Miinster, in June,
1645, she remained m Paris. It was the place above all
others in which she delighted, and whether her heart had
received some slight wound, or whether it was stUl entirely
whole, it is clear that she was not very glad nor greatly
charmed to find herself, after her accouchement in the
spring of 1646, under the cold, grey sky of Westphaha,
agam beside a husband who was not, as Retz says, the
most agreeable man to her in the world. It is not difficult
to divme the feehngs with which that petted beauty of the
Hotel de RambouiUet must have left CorneiUe, Voitm-e, and
all the elegancies and refinements of life, to take up her
abode at Munster amongst a set of foreign diplomatists
only speaking German or Latin. To her it was doubly an

Political Women. 133
exUe, for her native soil was not merely France — but Paris,
the Court, the Hotel de Conde, Chantilly, the Place Royale,
the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre.* However, there was
notMng for it but to obey the marital summons, and to set
off with her step -daughter, MademoiseUe de LonguevUle,
who was afready more than twenty years of age. The
Duchess quitted Paris on the 20th of June, 1646, with a
numerous escort under the command of Montigny, lieu
tenant of M. de LongueviUe's guards. The entfre journey
from Paris to Munster was a continual ovation. The Duke
went as far as Wesel to meet her. Turenne, who then
commanded on the Rhine, treated her to the spectacle of an
army drawn up in order of battle, and which he manoeuvred
for her amusement. Was it on that occasion that the great
captain, well known to have been always impressionable to
female beauty, received the ardent impulse which was re
newed at Stenay in 1650, and which, graciously but pru
dently acknowledged by Madame de LongueviUe, always
remained a close and tender tie between them ? On the
22nd of July she made her triumphal entry into Munster.
During the entfre autumn of 1646 and the winter of 1647
she was reaUy the Queen of the Congress. Her beauty
and grace of manner won homage equaUy from the grave
diplomatists as from the great commanders who were there
assembled. Although the Duchess dissembled her ennui with that
poHteness and gentleness pecuHar to herself, after the lapse
of a few months she had had enough of her briUiant exUe.
In the winter of 1647 there were two reasons for her return
to France. Her father, the Prince de Conde, had died
towards the close of December, 1646, to the great loss of
* In which the H6tel de RambouiUet was situate.

134 Political Women.
his family and France, the consequences of which were
somewhat later vividly felt. Moreover, Madame de Lon
gueville had become enceinte at Miinster for the third time,
and it being her mother's wish that her accouchement
should take place near her, M. de Longueville was compeUed
to consent to his wife's departure for Paris.
Her return to France, at first to Chantilly, and next to
Paris, in the month of May, 1647, was quite another sort of
triumph to that of her journey to the Rhine and HoUand,
and her sojourn at Miinster. She found the crowd of her
adorers more numerous and attentive than ever, and in the
foremost rank her younger brother, the Prince de Conti, just
fresh from college, was taking his first lessons of life in the
wider range of the great world.
Shortly after her accouchement, the Duchess, who durmg
her sojourn amongst the plenipotentiaries charged with
negotiating the treaty of Westphalia, had acqufred a taste,
there seems Httle doubt, for political discussions and specu
lations, first began to manifest an inclination to mix herself
up with state affairs. There was Httle difficulty in her
domg so. The mission which the Duke de LongueviUe
continued to fulfil in Germany, the continued favour en
joyed by tbe Princess de Conde, the ever-increasing influ
ence which the Duke d'Enghien — recently through his
father's death become Priace de Conde — had acquired by
his repeated victories, aU these advantages, joined to the
prestige of the personal charms of Madame de LonguevUle,
placed this latter in a position to take the foremost part in
the civil war about to break out.
The Court and Paris were then occupied with festivals
and diversions, which all were eager to share with Madame
de LongueviUe. To please the Queen, Mazarin multipHed

Political Women. 135
balls and operas. At a great expense he sent to Italy for
artists, siugers, male and female, who represented the opera
of Orpheus, the machinery and decorations of which are said
to have cost more than 400,000 Hvres. The Queen de
lighted in these spectacles. France also, as though inspired
by its increasiug grandeur, took pleasure ia the magnificence
of its government, and seconded it by redoubhng its own
luxury and magnificence. The pleasures of wit occupied
the first rank. The Hotel de RamboMUet, near its dechne,
was sheddmg its last rays. Madame de LongueviUe reigned
there as weU as in aU the best cfrcles of Paris ; and it must
be confessed, with her good qualities she had also some of
the defects of the best precieuses. The following is the
picture wiiich Madame de MottevUle has traced of her
person, of the turn of her mind, of her occupation, of her
reputation, and of that of the whole house of Conde, at this
period, which may be considered as the most felicitous of
her life : "This princess, who during her absence reigned
in her famUy, and whose approbation was sought as though
she were a real sovereign, did not fail, on her return to
Paris, to appear in greater splendour than when she left it.
The friendship entertamed for her by the Prince, her
brother, authorizing her actions and her manners, the
greatness of her beauty and of her mind increased so much
the cabal of her family, that she was not long at Court
without almost entirely engrossiag it. She became the
object of aU desfres : her cHque was the centre of all in
trigues, and those whom she loved became also the favourites
of fortune. . . . Her intelligence, her wit, and the high
opinion entertained for her discernment, won for her the
admiration of aU good people, who were persuaded that her
esteem alone was enough to give them reputation. If, in

136 Political Women.
this way, she governed people's minds, she was not less
successful by means of her beauty ; for although she had
suffered from the smaU-pox since the Regency, and although
she had lost somewhat of the perfection of her complexion,
the splendour of her charms excited a powerful influence upon
those who saw her ; and she possessed especiaUy, in the
highest degree, what ia the Spanish language is expressed
by those words, donayre, brio, y bizarrie (gaUant afr). She
had an admirable form, and her person possessed a, charm
whose power extended over our own sex. It was impossible
to see her without loving her, and without desiring to please
her." Some shadows, however, shghtiy tone down tMs
otherwise brilhant portraiture. " She was then too much
engrossed with her own sentiments, which passed for in-
falhble rules while they were not always so, and there was
too much affectation m her manner of speaMng and acting,
whose greatest beauty was attributable to delicacr of thought
and correctness of reasoning. She appeared constrained,
and the keen raiUery exercised by herself and /ler courtiers
often feU upon those who, whUe rendering her mefr- homage,
felt, to their mortification, that honest sincerity, which
ought to be observed in pohte society, was apparently
bamshed from hers. The virtues and quahties of the most
exceUent creatures are mingled with things oj)posed to
them : all men partake of this clay from winch they derive
thefr origm, and God alone is perfect. ... In short it may
be said that at this time aU greatness, al glory, and all
gaUantry were concentrated in the family! of Bourbon, of
which the Prince de Condd was the iUustrious head, and
that fortune was not considered a desirabje thing if it did
not emanate from their hands."
But, unhappily, frivolous pastimes, of ainature both mno-

Political Women. 137
cent and dangerous, now whoUy engrossed Madame de Lon
gueville. She was surrounded by all the prosperities and all
the feUcities of tMs Hfe. Everything conspired in her favour,
or rather against her — the triumphs of. mind as well as
those of beauty, the continually increasing glory' of her
paternal house, the intoxication of her vanity, the secret
promptings of her heart. The trial was too much for her,
and she succumbed to it. In the enchanted cfr'cle in which
she moved, more than one adorer attracted her attention ;
and one of them succeeded in winning her affections, ac
cording to aU appearances, at the close of 1647, or at the
commencement of 1648. She was then about twenty-nine.
Fran9ois, Prince de MarsiUac, without being very hand
some, was weU formed and very agreeable. As De Retz says,
he was not a warrior, although he was a very good soldier.
What distinguished him especially was his wit. Of tMs he
possessed an infinite fund, of the finest and most delicate.
His conversation was gentle, easy, insinuatmg ; and his
manners were at once the most natural and most poHshed.
He had a lofty afr'. In him vanity supplied the place of
ambition. At an early age he showed a fondness for dis
tinction and for intrigues. Profoundly selfish, and having
succeeded in acquiring a knowledge of himself, and in re
ducing to theory his nature, his character, and Ms tastes,
he set out with very contrary appearances, and those
cMvafrous manners affected by the Importants. One of his
first connections, as we have seen, was with Madame de
Chevreuse, who secured him to Queen Anne. When the
death of Louis XIIL had placed the supreme authority in
her hands, he imagined that his fortune was made. He
sought successively various important offices wMch the
Queen could not grant, whatever HMng she might have

138 Political Women.
entertained for him. Having tried several schemes and failed
in aU, the Queen apphed herself to soothing his disappoint
ments, by behaviour so tender as to retain Mm, as would
now be said, m a moderate opposition, and keep him from
taking part in the violence of Beaufort. He was not then
covered with the disgrace of the ImpoHants, though he
shared it to a certain extent ; and he did not cease to be,
or seem to be, very much attached, not to the government,
but to the person of the Queen. He looked continually for
some great favour at her hands. These favours not arriving,
he determined to procure through intimidation what his
self-seekmg fidehty had not been able to secure for Mm.
It was during this state of his feehngs that he met
Madame de LonguevUle, on her return from Munster, sur
rounded by the most earnest admfrers. The Count de
Miossens, afterwards Marshal d'Albret — handsome, brave,
•' full of wit and talent, as enterprising in love as m war — was
paying her a very zealous court. La Rochefoucauld per
suaded Miossens, who was one of Ms friends, that, after all,
if he should overcome the resistance of Madame de Longue
ville, it would only be a victory flattermg to his vanity, whilst
that he, La Rochefoucauld, would be able to turn it to a
very good account. TMs was certainly a very convincing
and heroic reason for faUing in love ! We, however, do no
more than transfer, with the utmost exactness, a statement
made by Rochefoucauld himself, which we wUl now quote
word for word : " So much unprofitable labour and so much
weariness, finally gave me other thoughts, and led me to
attempt dangerous ways in order to testify my hostility to
the Queen and Cardmal Mazarin. The beauty of Madame
de LonguevUle, her wit, and the charms of her person,
attached to her all who could hope for her favour. Many

Political Women. 139
men and women of quahty strove to please her ; and besides
all this, Madame de LongueviUe was then upon such good
terms with all her house, and so tenderly beloved by the
Duke d'Enghien, her brother, that the esteem and friend
ship of this prince might be counted upon by any one who
enjoyed the favour of his sister. Many persons vainly
attempted this game, mingUng other sentiments with those
of ambition. Miossens, who afterwards became Marshal of
France, persisted in it longest, but with simUar success. I
was one of his intimate friends, and he told me his designs.
They soon fell to the ground of themselves. ^He saw this,
and told me several times that he was about to renounce
them ; but vanity, which was the strongest of his passions,
prevented him from teUmg me the truth, and he professed
to entertain hopes which he had not, and wMch 1 knew that
he could not have. Some time passed in this way ; and,
finally, I had reason to beheve that I could make a more
considerable use than Miossens of the friendship and con
fidence of Madame de LongueviUe. I made him beheve it
himself. He knew my position at Court ; I told him my
views, declaring that my consideration for him would always
restrain me, and that I would not attempt to form a connec
tion with Madame de LongueviUe without his permission.
I wUl even confess that I irritated Mm against her in order
to obtain it, without, however, saying anything untrue. He
delivered her over entirely to me, but he repented when he
saw the result of that connection." *
When, subdued at length by the passion shown for her by
La Rochefoucauld, Madame de Longueville had determined
to respond to it, she gave herself up to him wholly — devoting
herself in everything to the man whom she dared to love.
• Petitot CoUection, vol. U. p. 393.

140 Political Women.
She made it a point of honour, as doubtless it was a secret
happiness, to share his destiny and to foUow him without
casting one backward glance — sacrificing to him aU her
private interests, the evident interest of her famUy, and
the strongest sentiment of her soul, her tenderness for her
brother Condd.
The truthful Madame de MottevUle, after notmg the
principal motive which urged La Rochefoucauld in his
pursuit of Madame de LongueviUe, adds : " In all that she
has since done, it is clearly seen that ambition was not the
only thmg that occupied her soul, and that the interests of
the Prince de MarsiUac there held a prominent place. For
him she became ambitious, for him she ceased to love
repose ; and in order to show herself alive to this affection,
she became too insensible to her own fame  The
declarations of the Prince de MarsiUac, as I have afready
said, had not been displeasing to her ; and this nobleman,
who was perhaps more selfish than tender, wishing through
her to promote Ms own interests, beheved that he should in
spfre her with a desire of ruhng the princes her brothers."*
Such being the sordid motives of her wooer, the oft-
repeated Hnes, therefore, which he wrote with his own hand
behmd a portrait of the Duchess must be construed with a
considerable abatement of their poetic ardour : —
" Pour meriter sou coeur, pour plaire S, ses beaux yeux,
J'ai fait la guerre aux rois, Je I'aurais faite aux dieux." +

* Mad. de MotteviUe, vol. ii. p. 17.
+ At a later period, after he had lost his sight from a pistol-shot received
at the combat of the Porte St. Antoine during the Fronde, and had
quarreUed with the Duchess, he parodied his own distich, 
" Pour ce coeur inconstant, qu'eufin Je counais mieux,
J'ai fait la guerre au roi ; J'en ai perdu les yeiix."

Political Women. 141
Such a dissembler then was the coldly ambitious, egotis
tical, clever Duke de la Rochefoucauld — a man capable of
sacrificing everybody to his own interests. Madame de
LongueviUe, such as we have depicted her, could not help
being the instrument of a man of like character. M. Cousin
seems to have arrived at that conclusion, smce, in designat
ing that princess as the soul of the Fronde, he acknowledges
" that she troubled the state and her own famify by an ex
travagant passion for one of the chiefs of the Importants,
become one of the chiefs of the Fronde." But M. Cousin
is very nearly sUent touching the Prince de Conti, of whom
the Duchess was the sole motive-power on aU occasions,
and he merely says that this young prince submitted to be
led by his sister in order to stand upon an equal footing
with his elder brother whilst waiting for a cardinal's hat.
Armand de Bourbon, Prince de Conti, born in 1629, was
eighteen years of age in 1647. He had good inteUect and
a not unpleasant countenance ; but a slight deformity and a
certaih feebleness of constitution rendering him unfit for
the army, he was early destined for the church. He had
studied among the Jesuits at the college of Clermont with
Moliere, and Ms father had obtained for him the richest
benefices, and demanded a cardinal's hat. While waitmg
for this hat dignity, Armand de Bourbon was Hving at the
Hotel de Conde, partly an ecclesiastic, partly a man of the
world, passing his days with wits and men of fashion, and
greedy of every species of success. The glory of Ms
brother fiUed him with emulation, and he dreamed himself
of warhke exploits. When his sister returned from Ger
many, he went to meet her, and, dazzled by her beauty, her
grace, and her fame, he began to love her rather as a
gaUant than as a brother. He followed her blindly in all

142 Political Women.
her adventures, ia which he exhibited as much courage as
volatility. When he had made his peace with the Court —
thanks to his marriage with a niece of Mazarin, the beau
tiful and vfrtuous Anne-Marie Martinozzi — he obtained the
command-in-chiefship of the army of Catalonia, in wMch
capacity he acquitted himself with great honour. He was
much less successful in Italy. On the whole, he was far
from injurmg his name, and he gave to France, in the
person of his young son, a true warrior, one of the best
pupUs of Conde, one of the last eminent generals of the
seventeenth century. Constrained, through Ul-health, to
betake himself again to religion, the Priace de Conti
finished, where he had begun, with theology. He com
posed several meritorious and learned works on various
rehgious subjects.
In 1647, he was entfrely devoted to vanity and pleasure.
He adored his sister, and she exercised over Mm a some
what ridiculous empfre, which contiaued during several
years.

CHAPTER HI.
THE DUCHESS DE CHEVREUSE DRIVEN INTO EXILE FOR THE
THIRD TIME.
When in the summer of 1644, the Queen of England,
the fugitive consort of Charles L, sought an asylum in
France from the fury of the Enghsh parliamentarians, and
went to drink the Bourbon waters, Madame de Chevreuse
eagerly desired to see once more that Ulustrious princess,
who had so warmly welcomed her when herself an exUe,
at the Court of St. James's. Queen Henrietta, too, who
like her mother, Marie de' Medici, as weU as the Duchess,
was of the Spamsh and CathoHc party, would have been
dehghted to have mmgled her tears with those of so old and
faithful a friend. But the royal exile did not deem it right
to give way to her inclination without Queen Anne's per
mission, who at that moment was according her such noble
hospitahty. Anne of Austria politely replied that the
Queen, her sister, was perfectly free to act as she chose ;
but it was intimated to her, tMough the Chevaher de Jars,
that it was inexpedient to receive the visit of a person who,
tMough misguided conduct, had forfeited Her Majesty's
favour. TMs fresh disgrace, added to so many others, in
creased the Duchess's irritation to the Mghest pitch. She
redoubled her efforts to break the yoke that oppressed her.
Mazarin watched and was made acquainted with aU her
manoeuvres. He had the comptroUer of her household

144 Political ^ Women.
arrested in Paris, and shortly afterwards even her physician,
whUst accompanying Madame de Chevreuse's daughter in
her carriage for an airing. The Duchess complained bitterly
of this latter proceedmg in a letter which she contrived to
have handed to the Queen. She asserted that MademoiseUe
de Chevreuse was forced to qmt the vehicle, two archers
leveUing thefr' pistols at her breast, and shoutiug aU the
whUe — " Ffre ! fire ! " and they tM'eatened, after the same
fashion, the female attendants who were with her. At the
same time that she protested her own innocence, she did
not fail to chaUenge Anne's sense of justice, with a view to
neutrahze the enmity of Mazarin. But the physician whom
he had had arrested, on being flung into the BastUe, made
avowals which opened up traces of very grave matters ; and
an exempt of the King's guards was despatched to Madame
de Chevreuse with an order commandmg her to retire to
Angouleme, and the officer was even charged to convey her
thither. At Angouleme was that strong fortress used as a
state prison, in which her friend Chateauneuf had been con
fined on her account for ten long years. This remimscence,
ever present to the Duchess's imagination, terrified her
sorely. She dreaded lest it should be the' same sort of
retreat which they now intended for her; and the active-
minded woman, preferring every Mnd of extremity to being
imprisoned, decided upon renewing tbe career of a wanderer
and an adventurer, as in 1637, and to tread for the thfrd
time the wearisome paths of exile.
But how greatly were cfrcumstances then changed around
her, and how changed was she also herself ! Her first exile
from France in 1626, had proved one continuous triumph.
Young, lovely, and adored by every one, she had quitted
Nancy, leaving the Duke de Lorraine a slave henceforward

Political Women. 145
to the sway of her charms, only to return to Paris and trouble
the mind of the stony, impassive Richelieu. In 1637 her
flight into Spain had, on the contrary, proved a most severe
trial to her. She had been forced to traverse the whole of
France disguised in male attire, brave more than one danger,
endure much suffering and privation, only to struggle in the
sequel with five consecutive years of fruitless agitation.
But, at any rate, she then had youth to back her, and the
consciousness of the power of that irresistible fascination
which procured her adorers and suitors wherever she wan
dered, even among the occupants of thrones. She had
faith likewise in the Queen's friendship, and a firm reliance
that the time would come when that friendship would repay
her for all her devotedness. But now age she felt was
creeping upon her; her beauty, verging towards its dechne,
promised her henceforward conquests only few and far
between. She perceived that in losing her power over
Anne of Austria's heart, she had lost the greater portion of
her prestige both in France and Europe. The flight of the
Duke de Vendome, shortly about to be foUowed by that of
the Duke de BouiUon, left the Importants without any chief
of note. The Duchess had found Mazarin to be quite as
skUful and formidable an enemy as Richelieu. Victory
seemed to have entered into a compact with him. De
BouUlon's own brother, Turenne, solicited the honour of
serving him, and the young Duke d'Enghien won battle
after battle for him. She knew also that the Cardinal had
that in his hands wherewith he could condemn and sentence
her to incarceration for the rest of her days. When, how
ever, almost every one forsook her, this extraordinary
woman did not give way to self-abandonment. As soon as
the exempt Riquetti had signified to her the order of which
VOL. I. L

146 Political Women.
¦he was the bearer, she adopted measures with her accus
tomed promptitude, and, accompanied by her daughter
Charlotte, who had hastened to her mother and refused to
quit her, she succeeded in reaching by cross-roads the
thickets of La Vendue and the solitudes of Brittany ; untU,
approaching within a few leagues of St. -Malo, she soHcited
an asylum at the hands of the Marquis de Coetquen. That
noble and generous Breton gave her the hospitality which
was due to such a woman strugghng agamst such adversity.
Marie de Rohan did not abuse it; and after placmg her
jewels in his hands for safety, as she had formerly done in
those of La Rochefoucauld,* she embarked with her
daughter in the depth of winter at St.-Malo, on board a
small vessel bound for Dartmouth, whence she pm-posed
crossing over to Dunldrk and entermg Flanders. But the
Enghsh parliamentarian men-of-war were cruising in the
Channel. They fell m with and captm'ed the wretched
little bark, and carried her into the Isle of Wight. There
Madame de Chevreuse was recognised ; and as she was
known to be a friend of the Queen of England, the Round
heads were not loth to subject her to sufficiently rough
treatment, and afterwards hand her over to Mazarin. For-
* Subsequently, she requested the Marquis de Coetquen to hand over her
jewels to Montresor, -who transferred them to a messenger of the Duchess.
Eut Mazarin was informed of everything from first to last. He was aware
of every tittle of the Duchess's correspondence, and tried to seize with the
strong hand the famous gems which had formerly belonged to Marie de'
Medicis' favourite foster-sister, Leonora Galligai, created Marchioness
d'Ancre. On the murder of the Marshal d'Ancre, these diamonds and
varures, valued at two hundred thousand crowns, with a vast amount of
other property confiscated by au edict of Louis XIIL, were bestowed by the
king on his lucky favourite, De Luynes, the first husband of Marie de
Eohan. FaiUng in his attempt to possess himself of these costly gems,
Mazarin arrested Montresor, and kept him upwards of a year in prison.
See " Memoirs of Montresor."

Political Wornen. 147
tunately, ia the Governor of the Isle of Wight, she met with
the Earl of Pembroke, whom she had formerly known.
The Duchess appealed to his courtesy,* and thanks to Ms
good offices, she obtained — but with no Httle difficulty —
passports which permitted her to gain Dunkirk, and thence
the Spamsh Low Countries.
The adventurous exile took up her abode for a short time
at Liege, and apphed herself to maintain and consoHdate
to the utmost degree iDossible between Spain, Austria, and
the Duke de Lorraine, an alhance, which was the final
resource of the Importants, and the last basis of her own
political reputation and high standing. Mazarin, however,
having got the upper hand, resumed aU Richelieu's designs,
and, like him, made strenuous efforts to detach Lorraine
from his two allies. The gay Duke was then madly en-
amocu'ed of the fafr Beatrice de Cusance, Princess of
Cantecroix. Mazarin laboured to gam over the lady, and
he proposed to the ambitious and enterprising Charles IV.
to break with Spain and march into Franche-Comte with
the aid of France, promising to leave him in possession of
aU he might conquer. The Cardiaal succeeded in wmnihg
over to his interest Duke Charles's own sister (the former
mistress of Puylaurens), the Princess de Phalzbourg, then
greatly fallen from her former " high estate," and who gave
him secret and faithful account of all that passed in her
brother's immediate circle. Mazarin requfred of her
especially to keep him apprised of Madame de Chevreuse's
slightest movement. He knew that she was in correspon
dence with the Duke de BouUlon, that she disposed of the
Imperial general Piccolommi by means of her friend Madame
* See her letter to the Earl of Pembroke, dated Isle of Wight, 29th April,
1645, in " Archives des AfEaires fitrang^res, France," t. ovi. p. 162.

148 Political Women.
de' Strozzi, and even that she had preserved intact her sway
over the Duke de Lorraine, in spite of the charms of the
fafr Beatrice. By the help of the Princess de Phalzbourg
he watched every step, and disputed with her, foot to foot,
possession of the fickle Charles IV., sometimes the victor,
but very often the vanquished in this mysterious struggle.
The advantage remained with Madame de Chevreuse.
Her ascendancy over Charles IV. — the offspring of love,
survivmg that passion, but more potent than all the later
loves of that inconstant Prince- — retained him in alhance
with Spain, and frustrated Mazarin's projects. By degrees
she became once more the soul of every intrigue planned
against the French Government. She did not always
attack it from without, but fostered internal difficulties,
which, like the heads of the hydra, were unceasingly
springing forth. Surrounded by a knot of ardent and
obstinate emigrants, among others by the Count de Saint-
Ybar, one of the most resolute men of the party, she kept
up the spirits of the remnant of the Importants left in
France, and everywhere added fuel to the fire of sedition.
Actuated by strong passion, yet mistress of herself, she
preserved a calm brow amidst the wrack of the tempest, at
the same time that she displayed an indefatigable activity
in surprising the enemy on his weak side. Making use
alike of the CathoHc and the Protestant party, at times
she meditated a revolt in Languedoc, or a descent upon
Brittany; at others, on the slightest symptom of discon
tent betrayed by soine person of importance, she laboured
to drive out Mazarin.

CHAPTER IV.
FATAL INFLUENCE OF MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE's PASSION
FOR LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.  THE FRONDE.
We do not propose to enter mto the labyrinth of intrigues
which preceded the outbreak of the Fronde, but confuie
ourselves to an endeavour to trace the motives which led
Madame de Longueville to tMow herself into the centre of
the malcontents and to figure as the cMef heroine in the
varied scenes of that tragi-comedy of ci-vil war.
The first Fronde was formed out of the debris of the
Importants. It was composed of all the malcontents who
made common cause with those members of the parhament
who were irritated by the frequent bursal edicts, notably
that which, in 1648, created twelve new appointments of
maitres de requetes.
And now what gave bfr'th to the Fronde, or what sustained
it? What roused up the old party of the Importants,
stifled for some years, it would seem, under the laurels of
Rocroy ? What separated the princes of the blood from
the Crown ? What turned agaiust the throne that iUus
trious house of Conde, which, until then, had been its sword
and shield ? There were doubtless many general causes for
aU this ; but it is impossible for us to conceal one — private,
it is true, but which exercised a powerful and deplorable
influence — the unexpected love of Madame de LonguevUle
for one of the chiefs of the Importants, who had become one

150 Political Women.
of the chiefs of the Fronde. Yes— sad to say— it was
Madame de LongueviUe, who, joiaing the party of the mal-
contents, attracted thereto, at first, a part of her famUy,
then her entfre family, and thus precipitated it from the
pinnacle of honour and glory to which so many services had
elevated it.
Scarcely had the treaty of Miinster suspended the scourge
of foreign war for France, than mternal dissensions began
to trouble the realm. The hatred which the Parliament
bore to Mazarin, through Ms repression of its functions,
primarUy gave birth to civil war. The Duchess de Longue
ville became in the faction of the Fronde what the Duchess
de Montpensier had been in that of the League. The
former, however, did not at first attach so great an impor
tance to the cause she espoused. CharacteristicaUy careless,
she was by nature little mclined to agitation and intrigue.
We have already shown that before her liaison with La
Rochefoucauld, Madame de LonguevUle had been a stranger
to politics. Occupied solely vrith innocent gallantry and
the homage of the most refined society of the day, she
allowed herself in aU else to be led by her father and her
elder brother. But no sooner was La Rochefoucauld master
of her heart, than she gave herself wholly up to him, and
became a mere instrument m his hands. Having been by
him inspired with ambition, she made it. a pomt of honom',
and doubtless a secret happiness, to share his destiny.
It seems not improbable that the Duchess might have
caught a lUdng for politics and negotiation during the con
ference of Munster. Certain it is that once plunged into
the eddyhig tide of the Fronde, she loftily announced the
project of remedying the general disorder of affairs. But
she especially desired to employ therein the means which

Political Women. 151
confer celebrity, and it is difficult to deny that ambition,
although without determinate aim, and the desire of esta-
bhshing a high opinion of her inteUect, may have had some
share in the reasons which induced her to embrace the partj'
opposed to Mazarm. With herself she drew her husbandj
into it, as well as the Prince de Conti, her younger brother.!
As for the elder, the victorious Conde, he at first declared
for the King and the Queen- Regent, which greatly incensed
his sister against him, and caused her to enter into close
compact, amongst others, with the Coadjutor, afterwards
Cardinal de Retz — that mischievous man who figured so
conspicuously as the evil genius of the Fronde.
The Gondis, who were the chief advisers of the St.
Bartholomew, owed to that terrible exploit the result of
being very nearly the hereditary possessors of the Arch
bishopric of Paris. But this last Gondi — John Francis Paul
— owed something more : to be at the same time governor
of Paris, and to unite both powers. With such purpose, he
artfully worked upon the city through the curates who, dis-
tributiag bread, soup, and every other kind of alms, carried
along with them the famished masses. This young eccle
siastic of the de Retz fainily had risen into great favour
with the serious and religious sections of the Parisian com
munity. He was nephew of the Archbishop of Paris, and
was Mmself Archbishop of Coriath ; but as his flock in
that metropoHtan city were schismatic (except those who
had turned Turks), he had leisure to assist his uncle ia Ms
high'^office, and was appointed Ms Coadjutor and successor.
He preached at aU the churches, held visitations at the con
vents, catechised the young, and consulted with the senior
clergy on the management of the diocese. When he rode
through the streets he was saluted with cheers and blessings.

152 Political Women.
and the orators of the Fronde held him up as the pattern
of aU the CMistian virtues. At night he put off his episco
pal robes, disgmsed Mmself as a trooper or tradesman, and
attended the meetings of the discontented. In a short
time he had distributed seven or eight thousand pounds m
stfrring up the passions of the people, and was daUy in ex
pectation of being summoned by his patroness the Queen to
exert his influence in quelHng them. The populace, with
an Archbishop-governor of Paris at their head, imagined
that they were going to rule there as in the time of the
League. This made them both blind and deaf to the morals
and manners of the little prelate. A braggart, a dueUist,
and more than a gaUant — though having swarthy, ugly fea
tures, turned-up nose, and short, bandy legs — yet his
expressive eyes carried off every fault, sparkhng as they
were with inteUigence, audacity, and Hbertiuage. Few
withstood this subtle Imave, for he was wont to waive all
ceremonial and spare everybody prefatory speeches. The
ladies of gallantry — especially those whose lover he was —
were his most indefatigable political agents. The Queen,
at length, suspecting that the worthy Archbishop was not
qmte the simple and self-denying individual he appeared,
had him watched and foUowed. WhUst he flattered himself
with the anticipation that his assistance would be solicited
at the Palais Royal, the Queen was making a jest of him,
aud Mazarm determined to strike the blow.
On the 27th of August, 1648, a vast assemblage crowded
the spacious precincts of Notre Dame, to celebrate a Te
Deum for the great victory of Lens, of which the youthful
Conde had just sent home the news. When the multitude
were dispersing, a dash was made upon two or three of the
obnoxious counciUors who had inflamed the discussions of

Political Women. 153
the Fronde — for that civil war was fairly on foot ere Anne
of Austria and Mazarm knew of its existence. Two of the
intended prisoners escaped, but a surly, burly demagogue,
named Broussel, was tracked to his house in the mechamcs'
quarter of Paris, and arrested by an armed force. There
upon the populace rose and armed against the Court. They
made an extraordinary stand in the streets, having raised
twelve hundred barricades in the course of twelve hours.
They had no further need of De Retz. It was, however, one
of his mistresses, the sister of a president and wife of a city
captain, who having in her house the drum belonging to the
citizen guard of that quarter, gave the first impulse by
causing it to be beaten. The train was thus fired and the
flame of civil war kindled. This was caUed the Day of the
Barricades. Thus, the royal power which, as wielded by RicheHeu,
had come to be considered as absolute, was attacked by
three parties sunultaneously — the great nobles, the parha-
mentarians, and the bourgeoisie ; but, notwithstanding the
dread of the common enemy, which united them, those par
ties were of different origin and conditions of existence, and
consequently had different interests also. The great nobles
wished to exercise power by placing themselves above the
law ; the parhament to increase its own through the law ;
the citizens to estabhsh theirs at the expense of the law :
for in their eyes the law was full of abuses and the royal
power crueUy oppressive. AU three parties, m order to
arrive at their several ends, had, therefore, recourse to vio
lence, or derived aid from it.
On the return of Madame de LonguevUle from Miinster,
there was already a ferment in the mmds of the Parisians, of
w'hich the Regent took little heed. The Fronde cabal was

154 Political Women.
then brooding in the dark. When the rebeUion, formed by
Gondi, broke out at last under the circumstances just nar
rated, Madame de LonguevUle, alone of aU the princesses of
the blood, did not accompany Anne of Austria in her flight
to Rueil. The Duchess strove her utmost to strengthen,
by the concurrence of her entire family, the faction whose
fortunes she had embraced through devotion to MarsUlac.
She did not, however, then succeed in detacMng Conde
from the Regent's party. The battle of the barricades fol
lowed close upon that of Lens, Conde's last victory. On
his return, that victorious young soldier found royalty humi
liated, the Parhament triumphing and dictating laws to the
Crown ; the Duke de Beaufort, with whom he once thought
of measurmg swords in defence of the honour of his sister,
freed from his prison in Vincennes, and master of Paris by
aid of the populace who idoHzed him ; the vain and fickle
Abbe de Retz transformed into a tribune of the people ; the
Prince de Conti into a generahssimo ; M. de Longueville
under the guidance of his wife and La Rochefoucauld ;
and the feeble Dulce d'Orleans fancyiag Mmself almost a
King, because he saw the Queen humihated, and because
the Frondeurs, cunningly flattermg his self-love, were treat
ing him like a sovereign. Conde, at a glance, saw the situa
tion of affairs and his duty also ; and without any hesitation
he offered his sword to the Queen.
Brother and sister were, therefore, about to be arrayed
against each other in the strife of civU war, and a stormy
explanation took place between them. It is asserted that
for some time back their reciprocal tenderness had suffered
more than one interruption; that, in 1645, Madame de
LongueviUe had crossed the loves of her brother and Made
moiselle du Vigean ; that, in 1646, Conde, seeing her too

Political Women. 155
intimate with La Rochefoucauld, had caused her to be sum
moned to Miinster by her husband. But for this we have
only the authority of the Duchess de Nemours, her step
daughter and unsparing censor, and nothing is less probable.
The passion of Conde for MademoiseUe de Vigean extm
guished itself, as aU contemporaries affirm. The attentions
of La Rochefoucauld to Madame de LonguevUle may have
preceded the embassy of Miinster, but they were not
observed until 1647, and it is at the close of this year that
Madame de Motte-rille places them, whUe attributing them
especiaUy to the desire of La Rochefoucauld to share the con
fidence of the sister with the brother. But it is very certain
that as soon as the latter remarked this connection, he dis
approved of it entirely ; and not succeeding in his effort to
rouse his sister from the intoxication of a first passion, he
passed from the most ardent affection to a bitter discontent.
In the autumn of 1648, on his return from Lens, this con
nection had acqufred its greatest strength, and become
almost notorious. Madame de LongueviUe, dfrected by La
Rochefoucauld, did then everythmg possible to gain over
her brother. She brought all her aUurements to bear upon
him, all her fondlings. She put into play everythmg which
she thought might influence his fickle and passionate dispo
sition — but failed. Neither did he succeed in gaining over
her his accustomed ascendency.- They quarrelled and sepa
rated openly. Madame de LongueviUe plunged more deeply
frito the Fronde, and Conde applied himself to giviag the
new Importants a harsh lesson.
The Queen had retired to Saint-Germain with the young
King and all, the government. Paris was under the abso
lute control of the Fronde. It stirred up the Parhament by
the aid of a few ambitious councUlors and by seditious and

156 Political Women.
miscMevous mquests. It disposed of a great part of the
Parisian clergy tMough the Coadjutor of the Archbishop,
De Retz, who possessed and exercised all the authority of
his uncle. It had continually at its head the two great
houses of Vend6me and Lorraine, with two prmces of the
blood, the Prmce de Conti and the Duke de LongueviUe,
followed by a very great number of illustrious famihes, in-
cludmg the Dukes d'Elbeuf, de BouUlon, and de Beaufort,
and other powerful nobles. It gave law iu the salons,
thanks to a briUiant bevy of pretty women, who drew after
them the flower of the young nobility. In short, the army
itself was divided. Turenne, with his troops, who were
stationed near the RMne until the perfect conclusion of the
treaty of Westphaha, obedient to the suggestions of his
elder brother, the Duke de Bou,iUon, who wished to recover
his principahty of Sedan, had just raised the standard of
revolt, and was tMeatening to place the Court between Ms
own army and that of Paris. The parhament of the capital
had sent deputies to all the parHaments of the kingdom,
and was thus forming a sort of formidable parhamentary
league in the face of monarchy. Condd took command of
all the troops that remained faithful, and everywhere op
posed the insm'rection. He wrote himself to the army of
the Rhme, which well knew him, and which after the rout
sustained by Turenne at Mariendal, had been led back by
him to victory : these letters, supported by the proceedings
of the government, succeeded in arresting the revolt ; and
Turenne, abandoned by his own soldiers, was obliged to fly
to HoUand.* At ease on this head, Conde marched upon
Paris, and placed it under siege. Instead of disputing the
* " History of Turenne," byRamsay, vol. ii.

Political Women. 157
ground, as he might have done, foot by foot, with the sedi
tion, he allowed it the freest course, in the certainty that
the spectacle of licentiousness which could not fail to
appear would, little by little, restore to royalty those who
had for a moment gone astray. He began by summoning,
in the Queen's name and through his mother, aU his famUy
to Saint- Germain. The Prince de Conti and M. de Lon
gueville did not dare disobey ; but La Rochefoucauld, see
ing that the Fronde was in the greatest perU, hastened after
these two princes. Having brought them back to Paris, he
made the Prince de Conti generahssimo — placing under him
the Dukes d'Elbeuf and de BouUlon — and who shared autho
rity with the Marshal de la Mothe Houdancourt, governor
of Paris. Madame de Longueville excused herself to the
Queen and to her mother on the grounds of her deHcate
condition, which would not permit her to undertake the
least fatigue. In fact, Madame de Longueville, it may be
noted, was enceinte for the last time m 1648, when, it must
be confessed, her connection with La Rochefoucauld was
well known. It was in this condition that, wiUing to share
the perils of her friends, proud also of playing a part and
of filling all the trumpets of fame, she enacted Pallas as
weU as she was able. It is at least certain that she shared
all the fatigues of the siege, that she was present at the
reviews of the troops, at the parades of the citizen soldiery.
and that all the civil and mUitary plans were discussed
before her. In this disorder and confusion, amidst the
tumult of arms and vociferations of the insurrection, she
appeared as if in her natural element. She encouraged,
counseUed, acted, and the most energetic resolutions ema
nated from her. The memofrs of the times are full, in
regard to this, of the most curious details. The Hotel de

158 Political Women.
LonguevUle was contuiually filled with officers and generals;
nothmg was seen there but plumes, helmets, and swords.
Notwithstanding all this, the democratic spfrit wMch had
origmated the Fronde was not satisfied. It beheld -with
displeasure aU the forces of Paris in the hands of the brother,
of the brother-m-law, and of the sister of him who com
manded the siege. Believing very Httle, and -with reason,
in the patriotism of the princes, the citizens demanded some
sureties from the chiefs who might at any time betray them,
and make peace, at thefr expense, with Saint-Germam. No
one seemed to know how to appease this clamorous multi
tude, without which nothing further could be done. It was
then that Madame de LongueviUe showed that, if she had
forgotten her true duties, she had retained the energy of
her race and the intrepidity of the Condes. Under the
advice of De Retz, she induced her husband to present him
self to the Parliament and inform them that he had come to
offer his services, as well as the towns of Rouen, Caen,
Dieppe, and the whole of Normandy, of which he was
governor ; and he begged the Parhament to consent that his
wife and two children should be lodged at the Hotel de
VUle as a guarantee for the execution of his word. His
speech was received with acclamations ; and while the deli
berations were still going on, De Retz proceeded to seek the
Duchess de LongueviUe and the Duchess de Bouillon, both
prepared to act a part in the scene he proposed to display.
He had afready caused the proposal of the Duke de Longue
viUe to be spread amongst the populace ; and hurrying the
two princesses mto' a carriage, dressed with studied and
artful negligence, but surrounded by a splendid suite, arid
foUowed by an immense crowd to the principal quarter of
the insurrection— the Hotel de ViUe — those lovely and

Political Women. 159
interesting women were placed in the hands of the people as
hostages with all that was most dear to them. " Imagine,"
says De Retz, "these two beautiful persons upon the balcony
of the H6tel de Ville ; more beautiful because they appeared
neglected, although they were not. Each held in her arms
one of her chUdren, who were as beautiful as their mothers."
La Greve was full of people, even to the house tops ; the
men all raised cries of joy, and the women wept with emo
tion. De Retz, meanwhile, threw handfuls of money from
the windows of the Hotel de ViUe amongst the populace,
and then, leaving the princesses under the protection of the
city, he returned to the Palais de Justice, foUowed by an
immense multitude, whose acclamations rent the skies.
On the night of the 28th of January, 1649, Madame de
LongueviUe gave bfr'th to her last child, a son, who was
baptized by De Retz, havmg for its godfather the Provost, for
its godmother the Duchess de BouUlon, and who received
the name of Charles de Paris ; the chUd of the Fronde
handsome, talented, and brave ; who during his Hfe was the
troublesome hope, the melancholy joy of his mother, and
the cause of her greatest grief in 1672, when he perished,
at the passage of the RMne, 'h^ the side of his uncle,
Conde. The Prmce de Conti being declared generalissimo of the
army of the King, under the parliament, and the Dukes deBouU-
lon and Elbeuf, with the Marshal de la Mothe, generals under
him, De Retz saw the fuU fruition of Ms mtrigues. A civU war
was now inevitable. The great and the Httle, the wise and
the fooHsh, the rash and the prudent, the cowardly and the
brave, wereaU engaged and jumbled up pell-meU on both
sides; and the mixture was so strange, so heterogeneous,
and so incomprehensiblei that a sentiment of the ridiculous

i6o Political Women.
was uTesistibly paramount, and the war began amongst fits
of laughter on all sides. That same day Conde's cavaliers
came gaUoping into the faubourgs to fire their pistols
at the Parisians, whilst the Marquis de Noirmoutier went
forth with the cavalry of the Fronde to skfrmish with them,
and returning to the Hotel de Ville, entered the circle
of the Duchess de Longueville, followed by his officers,
each wearing his cufrass, as he came from the field. The
hall was filled with ladies preparing to dance, the troops
were drawn up in the square, and this mixtm'e of blue
scarves and ladies, cuirasses and -riohns and trumpets,
formed, says De Retz, a spectacle much more common in
romances than anywhere else.
The serio-grotesque drama of the Fronde was thus
initiated.

CHAPTER V.
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE WINS HER BROTHER CONDE OVER
TO THE FRONDE.
This first raising of bucklers by the Frondeurs was not of
long duration. At the conclusion of a peace between
Mazarin and the Parhament, a perfect understanding pre
vailed amongst all the members of the Cond6 family. The
civil dissensions, however, were sufficiently prolonged to
exhibit the errors of all parties — even those who had entered
therein with virtuous incHnations and intentions, ashamed
of the stains which had tarnished them in the struggle,
almost invariably ended by confining themselves to the
narrow circle of individual interests, and completed their
degradation by no longer recognizing any other motive for
their conduct than that of sordid selfishness. All care for
the pubhc weal became eitinct ; men's hearts were insensible
to all generous sympathy ; their minds dead to every eleva
ting impulse — ^Hke to those aromatics which, after diffusing
both glow 9,nd perfume from their ardent brazier, lose by
combustion all power of further rekindling, and present
nothing else than vile ashes, without heat, light, or odour.
The peace concluded between the Minister and the Fronde
was destined to be of short duration. It was, properly
speaking, nothing but a suspension of arms, and in no
degree a suspension of intrigues and cabals. That suspen-
VOL. I. M

1 62 Political Women.
sion of arms, however, had been accompanied by an amnesty,
including all persons except the Coadjutor. Tlfe other chief
personages who had played a part in the insurrection of
Paris, and who now proceeded to visit the Court, were by no
means warmly received by the Queen, though Mazarin
himself displayed nothing but mildness and humility. The
Duke d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde visited the city ;
and the first was received with much enthusiasm by the
populace, who attributed to his counsels the truce of wMch
all parties had stood so much in need. The Prince de
Conde, whose warhke spfrit had not only aided in stfrring
up the strife at first, but would have protracted it stiU further
had his advice been listened to, was not looked upon with
the same favour by the Parisians ; but the Parliament sent
deputations to them both on thefr arrival in the city, to
compliment them on their efforts for the restoration of peace.
During Conde's visit to Paris, a reconciliation took
place between him and his fafr sister, the Duchess de Lon
gueville. The violent language he had used to her on
various occasions, the imputations he had cast upon her
character, and the harsh nature of the advice which he had
given to her husband concerning her, were aU forgotten, and
she resumed her ascendancy over his mind so completely as
in a very short time to detach him entirely from the side of
Mazarin, and to lead him, before he quitted Paris, to speak
publicly of the Minister in the scornful and contemptuous
manner in which he was usually treated by the leaders of the
Fronde. The Duchess de LongueviUe herself remained as strongly
opposed to the Cardinal as ever. But though she still
retained towards Anne of Austria that dislike which she had
always felt, and which the sense of an inferiority of station

Political Women. 163
greatly augmented in a woman of a haughty and ambitious
character, she found herself obliged, in common propriety,
to appear at Court on the conclusion of the Siege of Paris.
The first visits of her husband and herself, after the insur
rection, were rendered remarkable by the extraordinary
degree of embarrassment and timidity shown by two such
bold and fearless persons. The Duke de Longueville arrived
first, coming from Normandy ; and was followed by a very
numerous and splendid train, as though he rested for mental
support upon the number of his retainers. The Queen
received him in the midst of her Court, with Mazarin stand
ing beside her ; and every one crowded round to hear what
excuses the Duke would offer for abandoning the royal
family at the moment of their greatest need. Longueville,
however, approached the Regent with a troubled and embar
rassed afr, attempted to speak, became first deadly pale, and
then as red as fire, but could not utter a word. He then
turned and bowed to Mazarin, who came forward, spoke to
him, and led him to a window, where they conversed for
some time together in private ; after which they visited each
other frequently, and became apparent friends.
The reception of the proud and beautiful Duchess at St.
Germain, though not so public, was not less embarrassing.
The Queen had lain down on her bed when the Duchess was
announced, and, as was customary in those days, received her
in that situation. Madame de Longueville was naturally very
apt to blush, and the frequent variation of her complexion
added greatly, we are told, to the dazzling character of her
beauty. Her blushes, however, on approaching the Queen,
became painful ; all that she could utter was a few confused
sentences, of which the Queen could not understand a word,
and those were pronounced in so low a tone that Madame de

164 Political Women.
MottevUle, who listened attentively, could distinguish nothing
but the word Madame.
As there was no sincerity in these reconciliations, it is not
surprising to find that ere long the conduct of the Prince de
Conde gave no slight uneasiness to Mazarin. The Prince
had, however, brought back the Court to Paris ; but from
that very day he had shown a great change in his attitude,
and it is to the influence of La Rochefoucauld that such
change must be attributed. At that moment, in fact, the
Sieur Cond^ had become reconciled with every member of
his family, and even with his sister's lover. He drew closer
also the links between himself and the Duke d'Orleans, for
whom he shewed great deference, say his contemporaries,
and he began to treat Mazarin with much indifference, rally
ing him publicly, and declaring aloud that he regretted to
have maintained him in a post of which he was so Httle
worthy. Enjoying a great mihtary reputation, feared and
esteemed by the bulk of his countrymen, he chafed at seeing
himself compromised by the unpopularity of the Cardinal.
He thought that by drawing closer to the Frondeurs, he
should rid himself of the feehng that oppressed him. In
the outset, he had no idea of actively joining that faction,
but his sister did the rest, and hurried him on to become
the enemy of that party of which he had just been the
saviour. It is true that, for the memorable service which he had
recently rendered, Conde reaped scarcely any benefit; but
his noble conduct increased the splendour of his last cam
paign of 1648. It added to his military tities those of
defender and saviour of the throne, of pacificator of the
realm, of arbiter and enhghtened conciUator of parties. It
gave the climax to his credit and to Ms glory. Nevertheless,

Political Women. 165
he did not lose sight of the jealous feehng to which such
claims gave bfrth, whether on the part of the Duke d'Orleans
or the Prime Minister; and he well knew that he was
exposed to one of those coups d'etat, the necessity of which
the Chancellor as well as himself had urged at Rueil. He
considered himself ds the head of the nobility, and that
important body seemed to constitute all the military power
of the State. But the French nobihty was just beginning
to lose its former independence of character in becoming
more courtierlike. Instead of deriving from its strongholds
and vassals the feehng of its strength and equality, it
showed itself ambitious of such distinctions as the monarch
could confer. In the indulgence of its vanity it lost sight
of its proper pride ; and if that new emulation which the
Bourbons had excited was more easy for the sovereign to
satisfy, it was more difficult for the chief of a party to direct.
Moreover, Conde, as the Duchess de Nemours remarks,
knew better how to win battles than hearts.* He found a
dangerous pleasure, as did his sister the Duchess de Lon
gueville, in braving malevolence. " In matters of conse
quence, they delighted to thwart people, and in ordinary life
they were so impracticable that there was no getting on with
them. They had such a habit of ridicuhng one, and of
saying offensive things, that nobody could put up with them.
When visits were paid to them, they allowed such a scornful
ennui to be visible, and showed so openly that their visitors
bored them, that it was not difficult to understand that they
did everything in their power to get rid of their company.
Whatsoever might be the rank or quality of the visitors,
people were made to wait any length of time in the Prince's
antechamber ; and very often, after having long waited,
* Duchesse de Nemours, tom. xxxiv. p. 437.

1 66 Political Women.
everybody was sent away without getting an interview, how
ever short. When they were displeased they pushed people
to the utmost extremity, and they were incapable of showing
any gratitude for services done them. Thus they were ahke
hated by the Court, by the Fronde, and by the populace,
and nobody could Hve with them long. All France impa
tiently suffered their frritating conduct, and especiaUy their
pride, which was excessive." *
In looking at the faulty side of Conde's character, we
must not forget to observe the disinterested firmness with
which, without considering either his family or his friends,
he had hitherto acted in the interests of the King. Happy
would it have been, if, after having thus terminated this sad
civil war, he had quitted the Court and its intrigues to seek
other battlefields, and to finish another war somewhat -more
useful and glorious to France — that which still remained with
Spain ! Happy, also for Madame de LonguevUle, if, taught
by her own conscience, in her last interview with the Queen,
and by the sham.eful denouement of the miserable intrigues
of which she had the secret, instead of still serving as their
instrument, she had shown her courage in resisting them.
Happy too, if, after all the proofs of devotion which she had
just given to La Rochefoucauld, she had firmly represented
to him that, even for his own interest, a different course was
necessary ; that it would be better to look for fortune and
honours by rendermg himself esteemed than by trying to
make himself feared ; that ambition as weU as duty showed
his place to be by the side of Cond^, in the service of the
• The Duchess de Nemours was a daughter of the Duke de LongueviUe,
by his first wife, and as she lived with her step^mother, the Duchess de
LongueviUe, on very indifferent terms, her unsparing censure must by no
means be implicitly received.

Political Women. 167
State and of the King ; that it was easy for him to obtain in
the army some post where he would simply have to march
forward and do his duty, trusting to his courage and his
other merits!
But even if Anne de Bourbon had been wise enough to
speak thus to La Rochefoucauld, she would not have suc
ceeded in gaining his ear. His restless spirit, Ms ever-dis
contented vanity, pursuing by turns the most dissimilar
objeqts, because it selected none within its reach — that un-
definable something which, as De Retz says, was in La Roche
foucauld, made Mm abandon the high and direct roads, and
led him into by-paths full of pitfaUs and precipices. Through
such perilous ways we shall see the infatuated woman
following and aiding him in his extravagant and guilty
designs. Receiving the law instead of giving it, she strives
to promote the passion of another by devoting to his service
all her coquetry as well as greatness of soul, her penetration
and intrepidity, her attractive sweetness and indomitable
energy. She undertakes to mislead Conde, to rob France of
the conqueror of Rocroy and of Lens, and to give him to
Spain,

CHAPTER VL
THE CAUSES WHICH LED TO THE COUP D'iTAT—TBE ARREST
OF THE PRINCES.
In the first scenes of the shifting drama, the Court had
supported Conde in compassing the destruction of the
Frondeurs ; and Mazarin, with keen policy, instigated the
Prince to every act that could widen the breach between Mm
and the faction. Whichever succeeded, the party that
succumbed would be inimical to the Minister ; and in their
divisions was his strength. But the pride and impetuosity
of Cond^ were about this time excited to such a degree by
opposition and irritation, that it approached to frenzy, and,
unable to overpower at once the leaders of the Fronde, the
vehemence of his nature spent itself upon those who were
in reality supporting him. He still scoffed at, and openly
insulted, Mazarin; he accused the Government of not giving
him sincere assistance against the Fronde. He every day
made enemies amongst the nobility by his overbearing con
duct and his rash, and often illegal, acts ; and at length the
disgust and indignation of the whole Court was roused to
put a stop to a tyranny which could no longer be borne.
Anne of Austria long hesitated as to what she should do
to deliver herself from the domination of a man whom she
feared without loving : but at length an aggravated insult
to herself, and the counsels of a woman of a bold and daring
character, removed her irresolution. The Duchess de

Political Women. 169
Chevreuse had been exiled from France, as we have seen,
during the greater part of that period in which Cond6 had
principaUy distinguished himself, and she did not share in
the awe in which the Parisians held him. She still kept up
what De Retz calls an incomprehensible union with the
Queen, notwithstanding all her intrigues ; nor did she
scruple to hold out to Anne of Austria ,a dfrect prospect
of gaining the support of the Fronde itself in favour of her
Government, if that Government would aid in avenging the
Fronde upon the Prince de Cond6.
Anne of- Austria was unwilling to take a step which
appeared to border upon ingratitude, although the late
conduct of the Prince might well be supposed to cancel
the obligation of his former services. It seems here neces
sary to say a few words upon the connection of a series of
sudden political changes, in order that the reader may
understand how such starthng results as those we are about
to narrate were brought about.
The hollow treaty of peace of the llth March, 1649, had
scarcely been signed ere the Prince de Conde showed him
self day by day more strongly attached to the faction which
opposed the Court. Feeling his own importance, deter
mined to rule ; quick, harsh, and impetuous in his manners,
he took a pleasure in insulting the Minister and embar
rassing the Queen. There were some personal grounds for
this in the strong dislike manifested towards his sister by
Anne of Austria. That feeling was signally shown on the
occasion of Louis XIV. completing his eleventh year ; when
a grand baU was given at the Hotel de ViUe, at which the
young King, with aU the principal members of the royal
family and the Court, were present. The Queen's orders
were received with regard to aU the arrangements, every

170 Political Women.
person of distinction bemg invited by her command, except
the Duchess de Longueville. That princess, influenced by
discontent, it is supposed, at the reception of the royal
family in Paris, had remained at ChantiUy, on the pretence
of drihldng some mineral waters in the neighbourhood.
The Queen seized the same pretext not to invite her, reply
ing to those who pressed her to do so, that she would not
withdraw her from the pursuit of health ; but at length the
Prince de Conde himself demanded that she should receive
a summons ; and his support was of too much consequence,
and the bonds which attached him to the Court too shght,
for the Queen to trifle with his request.
To the surprise and dissatisfaction of most persons, how
ever, Anne of Austria commanded that the ball should take
place in dayhght; acknowledging, in her own immediate
circle, that it was in order to mortify the ladies attached to
"the Fronde, the principal part of whom employed methods
of enhancing their beauty and heightening thefr com
plexion to which the searching eye of day was very inimical.
Human malice, of course, took care that the Queen's motive
should be communicated to all the higher circles of Paris ;
and as vanity is not only a more pugnacious passion, but a
much more pertinacious adversary than any other, the words
of Anne of Austria rendered many opponents irreconcilable,
who might otherwise have been gained to her cause : the
family of the Prince de Cond^ naturally being among the
number. France was then able to count the cost of having created
a \i&YQ—expendere Hannibalem — a prince a, la CorneiUe,
who carried his gaze to the stars, and only spoke to mortals
from the summit of his trophies. His sister, Madame de
LongueviUe, had also in the same fasMon spared into the

Political Women. 171
sphere of a goddess. The one and the other, in the empy
rean, no longer distinguished their fellow mortals from such
a height save with a smile of disdain. Great folks, as a
contemporary tells us, kicked their heels in their ante
chambers for hours, and, when granted an audience, were
received with yawning and gaping.
The reconciliation effected during the preceding year was
rather, as has been said, a truce between the parties than
a solid peace. The Parhament had retained the right of
assembUng and dehberating upon affairs of state, which the
Court had sought to prevent: and Mazarin remained
Minister, although the Parliament, the people, and even
the princes, had desired that he should cease to hold that
office. It rarely happens to states in like unfortunate
emergencies that among the men who show themselves most
active and skilful in overthrowing a government there are
found those capable of conducting one; and when such do
appear, the chances almost always are that circumstances
hinder them from placing themselves in the front rank.
It was to Gaston, the King's uncle. Lieutenant- General of
the kingdom, that belonged, in concert with the Regent,
the chief direction of affairs ; but Gaston felt Mmself too
weak and too incapable to pretend to charge Mmself with
such a burden. He could never arrive at any decision, and
took offence when any matter was decided without him.
Jealous of Mazarin's influence, more jealous still of that of
Conde, neither of the two could attempt to govern along
with him ; and nevertheless Gaston was powerful enough
to command a party, and to hinder any one from govern
ing without him : ready to offer opposition to everything,
but impotent to carry anything into execution. If Anne
of Austria had even consented to dismiss her favourite

172 Politwal Women.
Minister, and overcome her repugnance to the Fronde andthe
Frondeurs, she could not have formed a government with
the chiefs of that party. The Duke de Beaufort, its
nominal head, lacked both instruction and inteUigence.
De Retz, its veritable chief — an eloquent, witty, and bold
man, skilful in the conduct of business, in the art of making
partisans ; brave, generous, even loyal when he foUowed the
impulses of his own mind and natural inclination — was
without faith, scruple, reticence, or foresight when he aban
doned himself to his passions, which urged him unceasingty
to the indulgence of an excessive and irrational Hbertiuage.
Such a man could not have replaced him who for so long a
period had informed himself of the affairs of France under a
master such as Richelieu'; who, deeply versed in dissimulation,
was inaccessible to any sentiment that might possibly derange
the calculations of Ms ambition. Besides, he, as well as
Mazarin, would have had the Princes against him, and could
not have resisted successfully their numerous partisans.
De Retz had, through the ascendancy of his talents, great
influence with the Parisian Parliament, but it mistrusted
him ; and that body, in its heterogeneous composition, offered
rather the means for an opposition than strength to the
Government. Cond^, to whom the state owed its glory, and
the Sovereign his safety, was therefore the sole prop upon
which Anne of Austria might have rested; but that young
hero had no capacity for business. He could not then have
filled up the void which Mazarin's retirement would have
created. Cond^, whose natural pride was stUl further
exalted by the flattery of the young nobles who formed his
train, and who obtained the nickname of petits maitres, only
used the influence which his position gave him to wring from
Mazarin the places and good things at his disposal, and of

Political Women. 1,73
these he and his adherents showed themselves insatiable.
Thus, Conde rendered himself formidable and odious to
Mazarin, and made himself detested bythe people as Mazarin's
supporter, at the same time that by his arrogance he shocked
the Parliament, already unfavourably disposed towards Mm
on account of his rapacity and his ambition.*
Such was the state of things, when the singular circum
stances which attended the murder of one of Condi's
domestics made that prince beheve that the chiefs of the
Fronde had conspired to assassinate him. He thought, by
such a crime, to have found an opportunity for crushing
that faction in the persons of its chiefs, and he instituted a
process in parliament against the contrivers of that murder.
Public report particularly pointed to two persons, De Retz
and Beaufort ; and Conde, by his accusation, hoped to force
them to quit Paris, where they found their principal means
of influence in the populace. But in attacking thus, as it
were, face to face, the two most popular men of the moment,
Conde showed no better tact than in dealing with the Prime
Minister. He conducted himself with so much haughtiness
and arrogance, that the young nobles who surrounded the
soldier prince, when they wished to flatter him, spoke of
Mazarin as his slave.!
The process went on nevertheless. Almost all the judges
were convinced of the innocence of the accused, but Cond6
pretended that they could not be absolved without giving a
deadly affront to himself. He demanded that at the very
least the Coadjutor and Beaufort should be made to quit
Paris under some honourable pretext, and the Princess-
Dowager de Cond6 declared that it was the height of inso-
* Talon, mem. t. Ixii. pp. 65—105. — Montpensier.
t MotteviUe, mem. t. xxxix. p. 4.— Guy-Joly.

174 Political Women.
lence in them to remain in the capital when it was her son's
wish that- they sho'ald leave it. The Queen, who equally de
tested the Prince de Conde and the Frondeurs, could scarcely
conceal her joy at seeing them at daggers drawn with each
other ; feeling certain that the moment was at hand when
their dissensions would restore her supremacy.
Under such circumstances Conde had need of aU his
friends, but he considered that he was set at defiance, and
he gave way all the more to his wonted pride and over
bearing obstinacy. He seemed to take pleasure in offend
ing Anne of Austria and Mazarin. The young Duke de
Richelieu had been declared heir to an immense fortune,
of which his aunt and guardian, the Duchess d'Aiguillon,
was the depositary. The stronghold of Havre de Grace,
which the Cardinal de RicheHeu had formerly held as a
place of retreat, was by such title in the possession of the
Duchess d'Aiguillon. Conde desired to be master of it,
either for himself or for his brother-in-law, the Duke
de Longueville. The young Duke de Richelieu was engaged
to be married to MademoiseUe de Chevreuse, but the Prince
having remarked that he had some liking for Madame de
Pons, a sister of his own first love, managed to marry him
clandestinely to her in the Ch&teau de Trye, lent him two
thousand pistoles until he should be of age to enter upon
possession of Ms property, and made him take possession
of Havre de Grace. The Queen was mortally offended at
such a proceeding on the part of Condd, who had moreover
threatened to throw into the sea those she might send to
Havre to seize the fortress ; but the Duchess d'AiguUlon's
resentment was still deeper and more active. She was the
first to teU Anne of Austria, that she would never be queen
again until she had had the Prince de Condd arrested.

Political Women.

175

assuring her that all the Frondeurs would lend their hands
to aid her in carrying out such a resolution.
Almost at this moment, a gentleman named Jarze, at
tached to Condd, fooHshly took it into his head that the
Queen entertained a liking for him, and it reached her ears
that Cond^ and his friends had amused themselves whilst
at table over their wine with Jarzd's revelations of his
amour with her, and that he had begun to feel certain of
getting rid of Mazarin by that means. Mazarin himself
probably became somewhat alarmed, as he spoke pointedly
to the Queen on the subject, who pretended only to have
contemplated the ridiculous side of her new adorer's gal
lantries. But when Jarzd next made his appearance in
her cabinet, she rated him rouildly before the whole Court
upon his absurd fatuity, and forbade him ever to enter her
presence again. The Prince de Cond^ pretending to feel
hurt at the affront put upon Jarzd, early next morning paid
the Prime Minister a visit, and insolently demanded that
Jarz^ should be received that very evening by the Queen.
Anne of Austria submitted to his dictation, but could not
endure such humiliation without seeking to avenge herself.
In a woman's heart every other species of resentment yields
to that of wounded pride. A few lines addressed to the
Coadjutor in the Queen's own handwriting, and carried by
Madame de Chevreuse, brought to her side that wily priest
and formidable tribune, disguised en cavalier. Certain
negotiations, however, which had preceded this interview,
had reached the ears of Cond^ who went to Mazarin to
denounce the treachery. The Cardinal, glowing with a
hatred which would have stopped at nothing for its gratifi
cation, laughed and jested, or flattered and soothed the
object of his concealed wrath. He turned the Archbishop

176 Political Women.
of Corinth into ridicule when Conde blamed him for his
dupHcity. " If I catch him," said the Cardinal, " in the
disguise you speak of — in his feathered hat, and cloak, and
military boots — I will get a sight of him for your High
ness ; " and they roared at the idea of discovering the
intriguer in so unfitting an apparel. But shortly afterwards
in the wintry gloom of a January midnight (1650), disguised
beyond the reach of detection, and guarded by a passport
from the Cardinal himself, De Retz was admitted at midnight
by a secret door into the Regent's room at the Palais
Royal, and deep conference was held between the two. The
conditions of agreement were readily stipulated. The Coad
jutor with an inconceivable address and most extraordinary
success handled the threads of the intrigues consequent
upon such agreement. He succeeded in making himself
the confidant of Gaston ; he made him renounce his
favourite, the Abbd de la Riviere ; he engaged him in the
coahtion which had been just set on foot between the Court
and the Fronde, and he obtained his assent to the arrest of
the Princes. Everything succeeded that was agreed upon.
The Queen-Regent, at the moment of a council being held
at the Palais-Royal, gave the fatal order, and then withdrew
into her oratory. There she made the young King kneel
down beside her in order to invoke Heaven in concert with
herself to obtain the happy achievement of an act of tyranny
which was destined to produce fresh woes to the realm, and
to rekindle in it the flames of civil war.
On the morrow of the 18th of January, 1650, aU Paris
was electrified at the news of the arrest of the three Princes
— Condd, Conti, and LonguevUle. That bold coup d'itat
was effected very easily and unceremoniously. The Princes
went voluntarily, as it were, into the mouse-trap, by attend-

Political Women. 177
ing a great councU at the Palais Royal. Anne had ob
tained from Conde an order for the seizure and detention of
three or four persons whose names were left in blank ; and
on the authority of his own signature, the hero of Rocroy
and the other two princes, were led quietly down a back
stafr, given over to the custody of a smaU escort of twenty
men under the command of Guitaut and Comminges, and
by them conducted during the night to Vincennes.

VOL. I.

CHAPTER VII.
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLe's ADVENTURES IN NORMANDY.
THB women's war.
The heroes having thus suddenly disappeared from the
scene, the political stage was left clear for the performance
of the heroines. We are now about to see the women,
almost by themselves, carry on the civil war, govern, in
trigue, fight. A great experience for human nature, a fine
historical opportunity for observmg that gaUant transfer of
all power from the one sex to the other — the men lagging
behind, led, directed, in the second or third ranks. But
those women of rank, young, beautiful, brilliant, and for
the most part gallant, were doubtless more formidable to
the minister at this juncture than the men. The two
lovely duchesses, De Longueville and De BouiUon, having
shown during the precedmg year of what they were capable ;
the Queen therefore gave orders for their arrest. The wary
lover of the fascinating politician who had lately begun to
scatter her blandishments equally upon all — La Rochefou
cauld — having been apprised by the captain of his quarter
that some blow was meditated by Mazarin, had sent twice
to warn the Princes through the Marquis de la Moussaye,
but who, as it appears, failed to acquit himself of that
important mission. But if La Rochefoucauld's warning
failed to reach the ears of the Princes, he was more fortu
nate in effecting the escape of Madame de Longueville.

Political Women. 179
Whilst they were seeking to arrest him as well as La
Moussaye, the Queen despatched a note to the Duchess by
the Secretary of State, La VeiUiere, begging her to coine to
the Palais Royal. Instead of going thither she went dfrect
to the Hotel of the Princess Palatine — Hke herself beautiful,
gallant, and intriguing, but endowed with a superior intel
lect. This lady speedily became the head and mainspring
of the princes' party — or of the second Fronde, and the
Coadjutor, who directed the Old Fronde, was fain to recog
nise in her a worthy rival, and his equal in political
sagacity. Fearing to be discovered if she remained under
the roof of the princess, a carriage was procured, and the
duchess driven in it by La Rochefoucauld himself to an
obscure house in the Faubourg St. Germain, where they
remained until nightfall in a cellar. Thence the Duchess
and her lover set out for Normandy on horseback under the
escort of forty determined men provided by the Princess
Palatine. Brave and resolute as her brother, the sister of
Conde rode northwards through that entire winter's night
and the following day, and sought no shelter until worn out
with excessive fatigue she reached Rouen. But the com
mandant, the Marquis de Beuvron, although an old friend
of the duke, declared he could not serve her, and refused to
raise the banner of revolt in that stronghold of her hus
band's government. Her attempt at Rouen thus receiving
a complete check, she had some hope of being received
into the citadel of Havre, but the Duchess de Richelieu,
though her friend, was not so much mistress there as the,
Duchess d'Aiguillon, who, on the contrary, was full of
resentment against her. Discouraged and repulsed on all
hands, the fugitive Duchess next made her way to Dieppe,
where she thought herself in sufficient safety to part with

i8o Political Women.
La Rochefoucauld, who left her to assist the Duke de
Bouillon to raise troops in Angoumois. In the fortress of
Dieppe, commanded by a faithful officer of her husband,
Madame de LongueviUe found the rest she so much needed.
In a brief space, with spirits recruited, she resolved to
make a stand to the uttermost against the Queen and
Mazarin, and having replaced the royal standard by that of
Cond^ set about putting the citadel in a state of defence to
resist a siege. The Queen, however, having resolved not
to give the Duchess time to raise her husband's government
of Normandy into revolt, on the 1st of February quitted
Paris for Rouen. The band of gentlemen who had gathered
round the beautiful Frondeuse thereupon melted away, and
MademoiseUe de Longueville, her step-daughter, afterwards
Duchess de Nemours, quitted her to take refuge in a con
vent. As Montigny, the commandant at Dieppe, declared
that it was impossible to hold the fortress, the Duchess
left the place by a secret portal, followed by her women and
some few gentlemen. She held her way for two leagues on
foot along the coast to the Httle port of Tourville, in order
to reach a small vessel which she had prudently hired in
case of need. On reaching the point of embarkation the
sea was breaking so furiously in surf on shore, the tide
being so strong and the wind so high, that Madame de
LongueviUe's followers entreated her not to attempt to
reach the vessel. But the Duchess, dreading less the angry
waves than the chance of fallmg into the Regent's power,
persisted in going to sea. As the state of the tide and
weather rendered it impossible for a boat to get near the
shore, a sailor took her in his arms to carry her on board,
but had not waded above twenty paces when a huge roller
carried him off his feet, and he feU with his fair burden.

Political Women. i8i
For an instant the poor lady beheved that she was lost,
as in falHng the sailor lost Ms hold of her and she sank
into deep water. On being rescued, however, she ex
pressed her resolve to reach the vessel, but the sailors
refusing to make another attempt, she found herself com
peUed to resort to some other means of escape. Horses
being lucMly procured, the Duchess mounted en croupe
behind one of the gentlemen of her suite, and riding all
night and part of the following day, the fugitives met with
a hospitable reception from a nobleman of Caux, in whose
little manor-house they found rest, refection, and conceal
ment for the space of a week.
The Duchess's tumble into the sea, though a disagreeable,
turned out to have been a lucky accident, for she now learnt
that the master of the vessel she had been so anxious to
reach was in the interest of Mazarin, and had she gone on
board she would have been arrested. At length Madame
de LonguevUle found herself once more in Havre, and
having won over the captain of an English ship to whom
she introduced herself — like Madame de Chevreuse — in
male attire, as a nobleman who had just been engaged in a
duel, and was obhged to leave France, she succeeded in
obtaining a passage to Rotterdam. Thence, passing
through Flanders, she reached the stronghold of Stenay,*
where the Viscomte de Turenne, afready compromised with
the Court for having openly espoused the Oond^ party, had
shortly before the Duchess's arrival also taken refuge.
It was then that the Duchess, who, under the sway of
La Rochefoucauld, had been one of the mstruments of the
first Fronde war, became the motive power of the second
• Stenay, taten from the Spaniards in 164I,had been given to the Prince
de Cond6 in 1646.

1 82 Political Women.
and far more serious one — well named by the witty Parisians
" the women's war." From the citadel of Stenay, of which
she took the command, she directed the wills and actions of
the men of her party, into which she thoroughly won over
Turenne. Her importunities, aided by her charms, pre
vaUed so powerfuUy over his valiant though fallible heart,
that the Ulustrious captain, after having struggled painfully
for some time with his conscience, allied himself with the
Spaniards by a treaty which placed him, as well as the
sister of the great Cond^, in the pay of the enemies of his
king and country. The treaty effectively stipulated " that
there should be a junction of the two armies, and that the
war should be carried on by the assistance of the King of
Spain until a peace should be concluded between the two
kings and the princes liberated. That the King of Spain
should engage to pay over to Madame de Longueville and
to Monsieur de Turenne two hundred thousand crowns
wherewith to raise and equip troops ; that he should furmsh
them with forty thousand crowns per month for the pay
ment of such troops, and sixty thousand crowns per annum
in three payments for the table and equipages of Madame de
LongueviUe and Monsieur de Turenne." This treaty duly
signed, Madame de Longueville issued, in the form of
a letter to his Majesty the King of France, a manifesto
very skilfully drawn up and filled with artful complaints
and accusations against Mazarin, with the design of solicit
ing through the one and the other an apology for her own
conduct, as though it were possible to justify herself for
having entered mto a compact with the enemies of her
country. It was during her sojourn at Stenay that she lost her
mother (2nd December, 1650). " My dear friend," said the

Political Women. 183
Princess de Conde to Madame de Brienne, who was with her
during her last moments, " tell that ' pauvre miserable ' who
is now at Stenay the condition in which you have seen me,
that she may learn how to die."
During the whole of this period, the Duke de la Rochefou
cauld gave constant proof of a rare fidelity. M. Cousin
speaks very precisely on this head. " Whilst Madame de
LongueviUe was pledging her diamonds in Holland for the
defence of Stenay, La Rochefoucauld expended his fortune
in Gmenne. It was the most grievous and, at the same time,
the most touching moment of their lives and their adventures.
They were far away from each other, but they stiU fondly
loved; they served with equal ardour the same cause, they
fought and suffered equally and at the same time." Abun
dant proofs might be instanced of this love and devotion on
thefr part. La Rochefoucauld wrote unceasingly to Stenay,
and gave an account of everything he did. " The sole aim,
then, of all fhe Duke's exertions," says Lenet, " was to
please that beautiful princess, and he took endless care and
pleasure to acquaint her with aU he did for her, and to
deliver the princess her sister-in-law (Condi's wife), by de
spatching couriers to her on the subject." He informs us
moreover that, "in every juncture, he forwarded expresses
to render account to the Duchess of all that respect for her
made him undertake. At this moment, in fact, having just
succeeded to his patrimonial estates through the death of
his father. La Rochefoucauld recognised no obstacle in his
path, but bravely went forward in the cause he had espoused
and generously sacrificed his property in Angoumois and
Saintonge. His ancestral chateau of VerteuU was even
razed to the ground by Mazarin's orders, and when the tid
ings of it reached him, he received them with such great

184 Political Women.
firmness, says Lenet, " that he seemed as though he were
deUghted, tMough a feeUng that it would inspfre confidence
in the minds of the Bordelais. It was further said that
what gave Mm the livehest pleasure was to let the Duchess
de LongueviUe see that he hazarded everything in her ser
vice." It cannot be denied, m fine, that the Duke at that
time yielded himself up to a sentiment as deep as it was
sincere, and which contradicts very happily and without any
possible doubt the assertion so often hazarded that he had
never loved the woman whom he had seduced and dragged into
the vortex of poHtics. Madame de LongueviUe and he adored
each other at this period, says M. Cousin, and it is pleasant
to be able to cite the opinion of that eminent historian upon
such fact; although separated by the entire length of France,
they suffered and struggled each for the other : they had
the same aim, the same faith, the same hope. They wrote
incessantly to communicate their thoughts and projects, and
thus sought to dimmish in imagination the enormous dis
tance wMch is between Stenay and Bordeaux.

BOOK IV.

CHAPTER I.
the PRINCESS PALATINE.
The arrest of the Prmces had singularly complicated
events on the poHtical stage. It had displaced all interests,
and, instead of re-uniting parties and consoUdating them,
it had the effect of increasing their number. No fewer
than five might be counted, represented by as many princi
pal leaders, around which were grouped every species of
interest and every shade of ambition.
In the first place there was the party of Mazarin, alone
against all the rest. This party had for support the abUity
of its chief, the invincible predilection, the unshakeable
firmness of Anne of Austria, and the name of the King.
Herein lay its whole strength, but that strength was im
mense. It was that which ensured the obedience of the
onhghtened and conscientious men who had great influence
over the army and the magistrature. These men adhered
to the Prime Minister through a sentiment of honour, and
in consequence of their monarchical principles. Amidst
the disruption of parties, they recognised no other legitimate
authority than that of the Queen Regent ; but they desired
as strongly, perhaps, as those of the opposite parties, that
Mazarin should be got rid of. That odious foreigner exposed
them all to the pubhc animosity which pursued himself.
Anne of Austria frequently employed the artifices of her

1 88 Political Women.
sex to avert their opposition in council, and calm thefr dis
content. The party of the Prmces, which the success of the ene
mies of France, during their captivity, rendered from day to
day more popular and interesting, was composed of aU the
young nobility. Of its apparent chiefs, the one alone
capable of directing it was the Duke de BouUlon. But to
lead a party it is necessary to identify oneself with it, and
devote oneself to it wholly ; and the Duke de BouiUon had
views pecuHar, foreign, and even adverse to the interests of
his party ; and before such interest he placed that of the
maintenance, or rather elevation, of Ms own house. The
Duchess de Longueville, the Princess de Conde, La Roche
foucauld, and Turenne had neither sufficient finesse nor
skUl in intrigue to be able to dfrect that party and struggle
successfully against Mazarin ; but they were seconded by
three men who, although obscure, displayed in these cfr
cumstances extraordinary talent. Lenet,* who never quitted
the Princess de Conde throughout these troubles, but served
her faithfuUy with his pen and advice. MontreuU, who,
although he had never published anything, was a member
of the French Academy and secretary to the Prince de
Conde. He managed, with infinite address, and iucessantly
devising new means, to correspond with the Princes, and
bring the vigUance of their keepers in default. And it was
GourvUle especially, who, after having worn the livery of
the Duke de la Rochefoucauld as his valet, had become his
man of business, his confidant, and friend. It was GourviUe
who, under a heavy expression of countenance, concealed a
most subtle, most acute, and fertUe inteUigence. Persuasive,
* His memoirs give reUable details of aU that relates to the Condes at>
this period.

Political Women. 189
energetic, prompt, reflective ; knowing how to gain an end
by the dfrect road ; or, under the eyes of those opposing,
attaining it unperceived, by covert and tortuous ways. A
man who never found himself in any situation, however
desperate it might be, without having the confidence that
he could extricate himself from it. Did the cleverest con
sider a position as lost ? GourviUe intervened, infused hope,
promised to lend a hand to it, and success was immediately
certain and defeat impossible.
Still GourvUle wa,s not, even on the score of abihty, the
foremost spirit of his party. The person who deserved that
title was a woman — the celebrated Anne de Gonzagua,
widow of Edward Prince Palatine. Through her proneness
to gallantry, she did not escape the weakness of her sex ;
but through her imperturbable calmness in the midst of
the most violent commotions, her elevated views, the depth
of her designs, the accuracy and rapidity of her resolutions,
and her skUl in making everything conduce to a given end,
she combined in its entire vigour the pecuHar character of
the statesman with the soul of a conspirator. She had
been through life the intimate friend of the mother of Conde,
and she now laboured with skiU, wisdom, and perseverance
for the Hberation of the Princes. And such is the ascen
dency obtained by talent backed by an energetic wUl, that it
was to her advice all the partisans of the Princes deferred ;
her hand that held the threads of their various intrigues.
With her De Retz treated directly, and in the whole course
of the negotiations she displayed a degree of penetration
which baffled all the subtlety of the Coadjutor ; and whUe
she foiled his devices against herself, she directed them
aright against their mutual opponents. By her activity
afid energy five or six separate treaties were drawn up and

igo Political Women.
signed between the different personages whose interests were
concerned, each in general ignorant of his comrade's parti
cipation. It would be presumptuous in any way to attempt, after
Bossuet, a perfect portraiture of this lady, but it may be
interestmg to glance at the antecedents of her life up to
this period.
Charles de Gonzagua- Cleves, Duke of Mantua andNevers,
had, by his marriage with Catherine of Lorraine, three
daughters: the oldest, Maria, whom he preferred to the
others, or rather that his pride sought to elevate her alone
to the highest destiny possible, was married successively to
two Kings of Poland, Ladislas Sigismond and Jean Casimir.
The second, Anne, who, as the Princess Palatiae, became
the political oppoaent of Mazarin ; and the third, Benedicte,
who took the veil and died whilst yet very young at the steps
of the altar. It is the romantic, agitated, and changeful
existence of the second with which we are concerned: passed
in tumult and ended in silence. In it may be found the
invaluable lesson of that admirable antithesis afforded by
error and repentance. Bossuet, in his eloquent, fervent
oration upon the life of that princess, was enabled to derive
from a contemplation of it the highest instruction. He has
therein retraced, with an imposing authority, the errors of a
woman exclusively engrossed, during many years, with
worldly interests and earthly vanities, and also made the
emphatic denial that, in their last hours, such awakened
minds but rarely give themselves up without profound
anguish, fitful emotion, and mortal struggle to the contem
plation of imperishable joys. Anne de Gonzagua experienced
those extremes. She passed from increduHty and an irre
gular life to the most lively faith and exemplary conduct.

Political Women. 191
Captivated in turn by earth and heaven, worldly and scorn
ing the world, sceptical and fervent, she had long centred
her pride and happiness in the political affairs of her epoch,
until the day came when, wearied with ephemeral pleasures
and touched by grace, she finally renounced the tMngs of
this life and gave herself wholly up to celestial meditation.
In her earliest youth she had been placed in the convent
of Faremoustier, where notMng was neglected that could
tend to inspire her with a desire for cloister Hfe. Her father,
the Duke of Mantua, had determined that his two younger
daughters, Anne and Benedicte, should help, by taking the
veil, to augment the fortune of their elder sister. Benedicte
submitted to her fate, but Anne soon perceived what her
father's plan was, and in her indignation she resolved to
defeat it. Unlike her younger sister, she had an adventurous
spirit, an ardent imagination, a strong desire to play an active
part in life. Even to withdraw from a mode of existence
that was hateful to her, she made her escape from Fare
moustier, and went to confide to her sister's bosom, in the
convent of Avenai, her wrath, her ennui, and her hopes.
For awhile it seemed as though conventual Hfe was about to
exercise a strange fascination over her. The discourse and
example of her sister touched deeply the youthful heart
which had proved rebellious to a parent's will. It seemed
not improbable that she would yield to persuasion that
which she had refused to compulsion. But her destiny
determined otherwise. Events cast her upon another course ;
her imperfect vocation yielded quickly to their influence.
She had been worked upon, in the solitude of the cloister,
by that mysterious yearning for an encounter with those
struggles which human passions involve, the experience of
which can alone extinguish such yearning in certain souls.

192 Political Women.
It was necessary that she should see the world, undergo its
deceptions, and be wearied of it, in order to desire repose
and be capable of appreciating the inestimable blessings of
peace and sUence and tranquUHty.
The Duke of Mantua dymg in 1637, Anne was obhged to
leave the cloister on business connected with the paternal suc
cession, and appeared at Court with Marie, her elder sister.
The turmoU of the world and its sensuous enjoyments
speedily engrossed the young and lovely princess, involved
her in their trammels, and only restored her to tranquUlity
and solitude after a lapse of many years ; for at this time
she also lost her sister, the youthful abbess of Avenai, and
the last link which attached Anne to cloister Hfe was severed
by that death. An absorbing passion, too, was destined to
confirm her relmquishment of such vocation. The youthful
Henri de Guise was then one of the most briUiant gentie
men at the French Court. Grandson of the Balafre, his
high birth fixed the eyes of all upon him, at the same time
that his impetuous imagination, his profession, aU the aris
tocratic foUies of the day — remarkable duels, romantic loves,
eccentricities, the adventures and elegant habits of the grand
seigneur — had constituted him an oracle of fashion and the
hero of every festival. He was fascinated by the. grace and
beauty of Anne de Gonzagua, and she herself, in the midst
of that gallant Court which masked a real depravation under
the thin varnish of an ingenious subtlety of expression, —
she herself, a disciple of the Hotel de RambouiUet, where
questions of sentiment were discussed, studied, and analysed
incessantly, knew not how to resist the gUded accents of a
young, handsome, and impassioned lover. She let him see
that she loved him. He made her a |)romise of marriage,
signed, it is said, with Ms blood ; and the affair seemed to

Political Women. 193
promise a happy conclusion. But their mutual inclination
was thwarted by Madame de Guise. The Duchess thought
that the high dignities of the Church would procure greater
wealth, honour, and power for her son than he could obtain
in any other career : Henri was then Archbishop of Rheims.
Nevertheless, he persisted in his love for Mademoiselle de
Gonzagua, and in his design of espousing her. The over
tures which he made to the Vatican were not in vain. He
received from the Pope, with the authorisation to again
become a layman, a dispensation which his kinship to Anne
rendered necessary for the celebration of their nuptials.
But the lovers did not hasten to avail themselves of such
privilege, apparently through dread of Richelieu, who was
also opposed to their union. Perhaps that minister, from
whom nothing secret was hidden— not even the unshaped
designs of the ambitious, — already suspected Henri de
Guise of being favourably disposed to the interests of Spain,
as well as contrary to those of France. Anne and Henri,
therefore, contented themselves with the possibility which
the complaisance of the Holy Father had given them of
contracting an indissoluble bond, and with the oath by which
they reciprocally pledged their faith. Confiding in the
honour of the Prince whom she so ardently loved, Anne
consented to follow him, when he quitted France in order
to escape from the espionage of Richelieu. Disguising her
self in male attire, Anne rejoined her lover at Besan9on,
according to MademoiseUe de Montpensier, at Cologne
according to other writers ; where, as elsewhere, she caused
herself to be called " Madame de Guise " — writing and
speaking of her husband, and defying the assurances which
were constantly advanced of the illegality of a marriage
secretly performed by a canon of Rheims in the private

194 Political Women.
chapel of the H8tel de Nevers. But what are promises,
marriage vows, or even bonds written ia blood ?
Heari not long after became unfaithful to the confiding
Anne by eloping with a fair widow, the Countess de Bossut,
whom he carried off to Brussels and ultimately married.
Implicated in the conspiracy of the Count de Soissons, the
turbulent churchman was present at the battle of Marfee,
and consequently declared guilty of high treason. He
therefore took up his abode in the Low Countries, where
he quietly awaited the death of Louis XIII. and his mi
nister, then both moribund, to resume his career at the
Court of France.
Thus abandoned by her volatile lover, and extremely
compromised, MademoiseUe de Gonzagua retumed to Paris,
where she reassumed the appellation of the Princess Anne.
Her grief for awhile at her abandonment was great, but
happily for Anne de Gonzagua, she was possessed of youth,
and, as Madame de MotteviUe tells us, " of beauty and great
mental attractions." She had moreover sufficient address to
obtain a great amount of esteem, in spite of her errors. In
a few years' time, during which she took care to avoid fresh
scandal, whatever she might have done " under the rose," she
made a tolerably good marriage. Her husband, her senior
by two years only, was Prince Edward, Count Palatine of
the RMne, son of a king without a kingdom, — the elector
Frederick,* chosen King of Bohemia in 1019, but who lost
his crown in 1620, at the battle of Prague. Prince Edward,
therefore, having no sovereignty, lived at the French Court.
In 1645, then, Anne de Gonzagua found herself definitively
* This unfortunate Prmce had married, in 1613, Elizabeth, daughter of
James I. of England. The celebrated Prince Eupert and Sophia, Electress
of Hanover, were among the other children.

Pohtical Women. 195
settled at Paris, and it must be owned did not give Henri de
Guise much cause to regret his faithlessness. The irregu
larities of the Princess Palatine became notorious, and as
suredly Bossuet, in the funeral oration which he pronounced
many years later, in the presence of one of her daughters
and other relatives, wMlst displaying a prodigal eloquence,
and a mastery over all oratorical resource, made use of every
artifice of speech, and all the elasticity of vague terms, in
speaking of that period of her life without a violation of
propriety, without disguising truths known to all, without
exceeding either in blame or praise the limits imposed by
good taste upon the reverend orator when he pronounces a
panegyric upon those who not unfrequently have very littie
merited it.
During those stormy years of the civil wars, through her
diplomatic talents, Anne de Gonzagua shone conspicuously
in the front rank of female politicians. One can readUy
imagine what must have been, not in the first Fronde, aU
parliamentary as it was, but in the second, entirely aristo
cratic, in the I'ronde of the Princes, the influence of a
woman's mind at once so subtle and brilhant. It was then
that Madame de Chevreuse, Madame de Montbazon, Madame
de Longueville, and Mademoiselle de Montpensier, displayed
upon the political stage the resources of their finesse, their
dissimulation, or their courage. The 'Palatine did not fall
below the level of those adventurous heroines. In the
midst of those intrigues, of that puerile ambition, of those
turnings and windings, perfidy, seduction, manoeuvring pro
mises, of those negotiations in which Mazarin infused all his
Italian cunning, the Queen her feminine impatience and her
Spanish dissimulation, De Retz his genius of artist-conspi
rator, Conde his pride of the prince and the conqueror.

196 Political Women.
Anne de Gonzagua handled political matters with a rare
suppleness, humouring offended self-love, impatient ambi
tion, haughty rivalries, acting as mediatrix with a wonderful
amount of concUiatory tact, the friend of divers chiefs of
parties, and meriting the confidence of all.
It would be tedious to relate here her various negotiations,
to go over her discourses, conversations, and numerous
letters : it would involve a history of the Fronde, and that
is not our subject. It will suffice to say that she obtained
the esteem of all parties at a time when parties not only
hated but strangely defied each other, and that she mani
fested a skill, a tact which Cardinal de Retz — a good judge
of such matters — does not hesitate to praise with enthu
siasm. "I do not think," says he, "that Queen Elizabeth
of England had more capacity for governing a state. I
have seen her in faction, I have seen her in the cabinet, and
I have found her in every respect equally sincere." This
eulogium may be perhaps a little over-coloured. But
Madame de MotteviUe, who also greatly admired the Pala
tine, probably approaches nearer to the truth. " This
princess," she says, " like many other ladies, did not despise
the conquests of her eyes, which were in truth very beauti
ful ; but, besides that advantage, she had that which was of
more value, I mean wit, address, capacity for conducting an
intrigue, and a singular facility in finding expedients for
succeeding in what she undertook." Thus spoke the Coad
jutor and the Court of her. The parliamentary party, by
the organ of the councillor Joly, confirms such panegyric :
" She had so much intelligence, and a talent so pecuHar for
business, that no one in the world ever succeeded better
than she did." The Princess Palatine's political dexterity
cannot therefore be contested: the testimony of the most

Political Women. 197
opposite camps are thereupon agreed, and it is certain that,
without the least exaggeration, it may be said that no one
at that epoch, save Mazarin, better understood the resources
of diplomacy.
It was especially after the arrest of the Princes that her
zeal and intelligence found occasion to manifest themselves.
Madame de Longueville, as has been said, instantly sought
the aid of Anne de Gonzagua when she learned that her two
brothers and her husband were prisoners. The news made
her swoon, and her despair was afterwards pitiable. The
Princess Palatine was touched by it, and promised to operate
on behalf of the Princes. From that moment she became,
without entering into faction and especially without failing
in her duties towards a sovereign whom she loved, one of
the most active friends of the prisoners. Meetings were
held under her roof to deliberate upon that important affair,
and, to compass her ends, she contrived to bring into play
the most varied resources. She began by interesting in the
Princes' destiny those even who might have been thought
the most irreconcileable enemies to them. However diffi
cult this work was of accomplishment, she reunited, as in a
fasces, in a single will, personages widely separated upon
other points, and surprised to find that they were pursuing
the same object, for none of them knew the motives which
influenced the actions of the rest. On this head, Bossuet
says, with somewhat excessive laudation, she declared to the
chiefs of parties how far she would bind herself, and she
was believed to be incapable of either deceiving or being
deceived. That is rather a hazardous assertion, for if she
indeed aided in the liberation of the Princes, none of the
promises she made — in all sincerity doubtless — became
realised. But, says Bossuet further, and this time with

198 Political Women,
more precision, "her peculiar characteristic was to conciliate
opposite interests, and, in raising herself above them, to dis
cover the secret point of junction and knot, as it were, by
which they might be united." She had resolved to win over
the Duke d'Orleans, Madame de Chevreuse, De Retz, and
the keeper of the seals, Chateauneuf. She therefore signed
with them four different treaties. With the Duke d'Orleans
she promised the hand of the young Duke d'Enghien in
marriage to one of the Prince's daughters ; to Madame de
Chevreuse that of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse to the Priace
de Conti ; to De Retz, the cardinal's hat ; to Chateauneuf,
the post of prime minister. All consented to favour the
princess's designs, and Mazarin, whom she could not con
vince, found himself surrounded by enemies whose union
was formidable. That minister made allusion tp the dread
with which he was inspired when he remarked some years.
afterwards to Don Louis de Haro : " The most turbulent
among the men does not give us so much trouble to keep
him in check as the intrigues of a Duchess de Chevreuse or
a Princess Palatine." In vain, according to his wont, did he
again attempt to temporise. Anne de Gonzagua, who was
ready to open fire with all her batteries, sought to terrify
him by the perspective of a menacing future. " She caused
him to be informed that he was lost if he did not determine
upon giving the Princes their liberty, assuring him that if
he did not do it promptly he would see, in a few days, the
whole Court and every cabal banded against him, and that
all aid would fail him." Mazarin, obstinate in his determi
nation, and unwiUing to believe that she had so thoroughly
played her game as to hold- in hand the threads of so many
intrigues, begged her to defer the matter, asked time for
reflection, and conducted himself in such away in short that

Political Women, igg
the princess saw clearly that he only wanted to gain time.
She therefore hesitated no longer, but aUowed those who
were agitating impatiently around her to commence action.
The party of the Princes had been dubbed by the name of
the New Fronde. The old, although it had lost its energy
byits union with the Court, preserved nevertheless its hatred
to the prime minister. It was not in De Retz's power to
neutralise wholly these hostile dispositions ; but he could
hinder them from being brought into dangerous activity.
The Coadjutor at first with that view acted in good faith,
and remained faithful in the first moments of the agreement
which he had entered into with the Queen. Probably it
might then have been possible to attach him finally to the
Court party ; but Mazarin could not believe that the Coad
jutor, so fertile in tricks, so full of finesse, was capable of
anything like frankness and generosity. In the practical
experience of Hfe, mistrust has its perUs as well as bUnd
confidence, and failure as often happens to us through our
unwiUingness to believe in vittue, as through our inabiUty
to suspect vice. Mazarin judged after himself a man who
resembled him in many respects, but not in aU. Moreover,
he feared lest he might seek to win the Queen's affection
from Mm ; and that fear was not groundless. De Retz saw
himself the object of the suspicions and afterwards of the
machinations of a power which laboured at his destruction,
\yhilst for that power he was compromising his influence and
his popularity. To reacquire it, he hastened, therefore, to
throw himself with all his adherents on the side of the
Princes, and saw no safety but in thefr deliverance. This
alliance of the two camps, so long enemies, was concluded be
tween the Coadjutor and the Princess Palatine, and rendered
so firm and secret by the confidence with which these two

200 Political Women.
party chiefs inspired each other, that Mazarin, who un
ceasingly dreaded such a union, and who always suspected
it, did not know it for certain until it revealed itself by its
effects.* The 'parhament formed a fourth party. Not that that
body was unanimous ; but it had within itself an honourable
majority which was alike inimical to the Frondeurs, the
seditious, and the minister. The parliament therefore would
have been disposed to unite itself to the Princes' party, and to
lend it support ; but to do so it would have been necessary
that the chiefs of that party should renounce all alliance
with the foreigner. Turenne and Madame de Longueville
had joined with the Spaniards to fight against France. The
young Princess de Conde, with the Dukes de Bouillon and
de la Rochefoucauld, who had shut themselves up in Bor
deaux, had entered into an alliance with them, and had
received from them succour in the shape of money. The
Spanish envoys in Paris conferred daily with the chiefs of
the old as of the new Fronde.
Gaston, who might have been the moderator of all these
parties, formed by himself a fifth among them. His irreso
lution prevented him giving strength to any other of the
factions, but he constituted a formidable obstacle to aU the
rest. His incHnation, as well as his interest, should never
have made him deviate from the Court party ; yet he was
always opposed to it. ImpeUed by his jealousy of Conde
and of the prime minister, he acted in a manner contrary to
his own wishes. He was, however, neither wanting in intel
hgence nor finesse, nor even a certain kind of eloquence ;
and the master-stroke of De Retz's address was to have con
trived, in furtherance of the object of his designs, to set
• MotteviUe— Joly— Lenet.

Political Women. 201
Gaston with the Fronde against the Princes, and afterwards
for the Princes against Mazarin.
The complication and the multiplicity of parties was as
nothing in comparison to that of private interests, which so
crossed each other and in so many different ways, which
turned with such mobility, that, in the ignorance which pre
vailed of the secret motives of the principal actors in that
drama so vivid, motley, and turbulent, nothing could be
predicated of what they would do, and a looker-on might
have been disposed at times to have pronounced them as
insensates, who were rather their own enemies than those of
their antagonists.
If the Hbels of those times are to be credited, and especiaUy
the satire in verse for which the poet Marlet was sentenced to
be hanged, the obstinacy with which the Queen exposed to
danger her son's crown, by retaining a minister detested by
all, would be naturaUy explained by a reason other than that
of a reason of state. The advocate-general Talon, Madame
de MotteviUe, and the Duchess de Nemours exculpate Anne
of Austria on this head. They are three respectable and
trustworthy witnesses ; and, without any doubt, that which
they said they thought. But the Duchess d'Orleans, Eliza
beth-Charlotte, affirmsin her correspondence * that Anne of
Austria had secretly married Cardinal Mazarin, who was not
a priest. She says that all the details of the marriage were
known, and that, in her time, the back staircase in the Palais
Royal was pointed out by which at night Mazarin reached
the Queen's apartments. She observes that such clandestine
marriages were common at that period, and cites that of the
widow of our Charles the First, who secretly espoused her
* M^m. sur la Conr de Louis XIV. et de la Eegence, d'EUzabeth-Charlotte
Duchesse d'Orleans, Mere du Regent. 1823, p. 319.

202 Political 'Women.
equerry, Jermyn. One might be disposed to think that the
Duchess Elizabeth-Charlotte could have only foUowed some
tradition, and that her assertions cannot counterbalance the
statements ofthe contemporary personages above mentioned.
But certain species of facts are often better known long
after the death of the persons to whom tliey relate, than
during their lifetime, or at a time close upon their decease ;
they are not entirely unveiled until there no longer exists
any motive to keep them secret. Of the Queen's sentiments'
towards Mazarin there can be no doubt after reading a letter
which she addressed to him under date of June 30, 1660,
which is extant in autograph,* the avowal she made to
Madame de Brienne in her oratory,! the confidences of
Madame de Chevreuse to Cardinal de Retz.| Moreover,
whatever may have been the motives of Anne of Austria's
attachment to Mazarin, it is certain that they were aU-
powerful over her. She lent herself to every project formed
by her minister for the increase of his power and fortune.
The war in Bordeaux was kindled because Mazarin desfred
that one of Ms nieces should be united to the Duke de
Candale, son of the Duke d'Epernon ; and, in order not to
let the Swiss soldiers march thither without their pay, when
their aid was most necessary, Anne of Austria put her dia
monds in pledge, and would not allow Mazarin to be answer
able for the sum required to be disbursed.
• MS. BibliothSiine Rationale.
t Leomeni de Brienne, Memoirs, 1 828.
X Retz, Memoirs, edition 1836.

CHAPTER II.
THE YOUNG PRINCESS DE CONDfl CONDUCTS THE WAR IN
THE SOUTH.
To generous and feehng hearts, Conde's misfortune
presented all the characteristics of a real romance.. The
majority of the women therefore who meddled with politics
were, through sympathy, of his party. The glory, of
France under lock and key ! The young hero arrested for
treason, and prisoner to whom? The foreign Cardinal
Mazarin. All the spoUs of the Condes distributed amongst
the sbires of the favourite, — Normandy to Harcourt, Cham
pagne to L'Hospital, &c. A monstrous alhance between
King and people. The Queen keeping the BastiUe in the
hands of Broussel's son — the highest posts bestowed upon
the magistrates — a reversal, in fact, of everything. Did
not the French nobUity rise to a man agamst such a state
of things ?
No, everything was at a standstiU. Neither Conde's
mihtary clients, nor his numerous seigniories, nor his
governments took any active part whatsoever. Far from it,
Madame de LongueviUe, as we have seen, who thought to
raise Normandy, everywhere met with a repulse in that
province. Neither Turenne nor she could do anything save
by accepting aid from Spain, for which Madame de BouiUon
was also doing her best in Paris,
But whilst that lovely amazon, Conde's sister, was occupied

204 Political Women.
in her endeavours to lure the hero of Stenay into the party
of revolt by intoxicating him with love, and wasting time io
negotiation and parade, a succour more dfrect and much
more energetic was given to Conde from a quarter he had
the least expected — from his own chateau of Chantilly.
He had there left his aged mother, his young wife, and a
son seven years old. Mazarin hesitated to have these
ladies arrested, fearmg the force of pubhc opinion. The
mother went to hide herself in Paris, and one morning
appeared before the Pariiament, supphant, weeping sorety,
stooping so far as to kneel in prayer, to flattery, and
even to falsehood. AU being unavaihng, she went home
to die.
But most astonishing was the unexpected courage of
Conde's young wife, Claire Clemence de Maille, that despised
niece of Richelieu, whom the victorious soldier had married
under compulsion, and whose heir was the spn of the
minister's absolute will. On the arrest of her husband she
had been confided to the care of a man of capacity — Lenet,
from whose " Memoirs " we have already cited. He at first
conducted her and her son in safety from Chantilly to
Montrond, a stronghold of the Condes, but fearing to be
besieged in it, straightway to Bordeaux. The Parliament
of Guienne had had a deadly quarrel with Mazarin for
imposing upon them Epernon, a governor they detested,
and whom the Cardinal was bent upon allying by marriage
with his own family. Great therefore was the emotion
of this city and parliament at seeing that young lady of
two-and-twenty in deep mourning, with her innocent boy,
who caught the brave Bordelais by their beards with his little
hands, and besought their help towards the Hberation of his
father. The Princess's retinue enhanced not a littie this

Political Women. 205
favourable impression, formed as it was of high-born women,
for the most part young and charming.
The popular explosion was lively, as always happens
among the people of the south. But even the narrative of
Lenet shows clearly the slender foundation upon which this
semblance of popular insurrection rested. The lower orders,
then living in great misery, hoped to obtain through the
Princess some opening for their foreign trade, which would
better enable them to dispose of their wines and help them
to live. Mazarin kept down the local Parliament, and carried
everything through sheer terror. Bouillon and La Roche
foucauld, the Princess's advisers, recommended that a royal
envoy should be cut to pieces. Lenet dreaded lest such an
act, somewhat over-energetic, might render his mistress less
popular. Twice or thrice the populace were very nearly
putting the Parliament to the sword, the majority of which
was kept under through sheer terror of the knife. Spain
promised money, and they had the simplicity to beheve her.
She hardly gave them a pitiful alms. Meanwhile, however,
Mazarin, having qmetly occupied Normandy and Burgundy,
made his way towards Guienne with the royal army. The
Bordelais showed an intrepid front, though somewhat dis
quieted to see the soldiery about to gather the fruits of the
vintage instead of themselves. The Princess only maintained
herself in the place through the aid of the rabble va-nu-pieds,
who feasted and danced all night at her expense, and who
shouted in her ears a hundred ribald jests against Mazarin,
compelling both herself and her son to repeat them. This
abasement into which she had fallen made her desire peace
for herself, and permission to leave the city, which was
granted to her, with vague promises of liberating Conde
(3rd October, 1650).

2o6 Political Women.
The Duchess de BouUlon had been quite as ardent in
politics during the burlesque activity of the Fronde as
Madame de LongueviUe; and although, perhaps, equally
beautiful, happily she was entirely devoted to her domestic
duties. Her husband on taking flight had been constrained
to leave her behind in Paris, she being near her accouche
ment, which circumstance however did not prevent the
Queen from giving an order for her arrest. Although the
royal guards were already in the house, the Duchess con
trived to effect the escape of her sons, and during that same
day gave birtli to her babe. Shortly afterwards she found a
means of eluding the guard set over her, and would have
rejoined her husband, had her daughter not been attacked
with small-pox, but having returned home to nurse her, was
arrested at her bedside and carried to the Bastille. The
Duchess de Chevreuse, always gallant, in spite of waning
beauty, constituted herself the mediatrix between the Queen
and the Frondeurs ; and although her daughter had openly
become the mistress ofthe Coadjutor, it was afready contem
plated to make her the wife of the Prince de Conti, as a con
dition of the arrangement by which he should be set free.
Beaufort still continued to be the obsequious lover of
Madame de Montbazon, and, through her, Mazarin was kept
well acquainted with aU his secrets.
No other power than that of female influence could have
attached the French nobility to the Prince de Conde, and
determined it to take up arms for his release. In fact, his
hauteur, his brusquerie, his brutality even, had, in repeated
instances, offended that body, and the Queen imagined that
the bulk of the French gentry would witness his arrest with as
much pleasure as the citizens. But the women had been
fascinated by 'the eclat of his four victories; they agi'eed to

Political Women. 207
call him the champion, the hero of France, and it seemed
to them that they shared his heroism in devoting themselves
to his cause. As for the higher nobility, they were not
bound by any political principle ; they were very indifferent
to the grandeur of France ; very ignorant of its pretensions
in foreign affairs, or to what it had been pledged with other
nations. They loved war in the first place for its dangers,
and in the second for the honours and wealth they got by
fighting ; but even in the army, far from making fideUty and
obedience a rule of conduct, they cherished a spirit of inde
pendence and resistance to the Crown, and would only aUow
themselves to be influenced by their chivalric usages. They
gloried in showing themselves reckless of the future, caring
more about the glitter of the present than steady progressive
advancement; equally prodigal of fortune as of life, they
were prone to follow impulse rather than calculation; so
that what we should perhaps call a reckless frivolity was
looked upon by them as a sentiment invested with all the
charm of brilliant gallantry. Those even whom neither
their affection nor their interest summoned to the standards
of the captive Princes, rushed gaily from the midst of their
ease and festivity into civil war at the first prompting of
thefr mistresses.
Gaston d'Orleans, after having consented to the imprison
ment of the Princes, only decided upon entering into the
project for thefr deliverance under promise of a marriage of
his daughter, the Duchess d'Alengon, with the boy-Duke
d'Enghien, Conde's son: Turenne and La Rochefoucauld,
too, often thought less of their glory or the success of their
party, tban of what might be agreeable to the Duchess de
Longueville, of whose love they were so envious. More
obscure liaisons, wMch have even escaped the anecdotic

2o8 Political Women.
abundance of the memoir-writers of those days, appear also
to have exercised their influence over the conduct of the
highest personages. In a letter which De Retz wrote to
Turenne, and which he frankly characterises as being
remarkably silly, the Coadjutor does not disgmse that
amongst many serious motives wMch he gives that great
warrior for inducing him to determine upon peace, he does
not forget to hold out a hope of his seeing once more a
little grisette of the Rue des Petits-Champs, whom Turenne
loved with all his heart. The feeblest motives had influence
over such men, all young and ardent as they were — the
followers of different factions, though without prejudices,
principles, convictions, without hatred and without affection.
The women therefore naturally played important parts in all
these events, to whom the species of gallantry and worship
of beauty held in honour by the Hotel de RambouUlet was
quite familiar. Thus notMng could be expected of the
Duke de Beaufort, even in that which concerned him
closest, if not assured previously of the consent of the
Duchess de Montbazon, who exercised plenary power over
him. Nemonrs, enamoured of the Duchess de ChatiUon,
loved likewise by the Prince de Condd, warmly embraced
the cause of that Prince, because his mistress prompted him
thereto ; and the Duchess de Nemours had moved heaven
and earth to obtain Conde's deliverance, in the hope that he
would keep sharp watch over the Duchess de ChatiUon, and
put a stop to her husband's infidelity.
De Retz too, notwithstanding the superiority of his in
teUect, allowed himself to give way, through his inclination
for the fair sex, to the commission of indiscretions and impru
dences which often placed his life in danger, and caused his
best-concerted measures to prove abortive. To appease the

Political Women. 209
jealousy of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse he permitted himself
to make use of a contemptuous expression concerning the
Queen, which was repeated, and which became the cause of
the violent hatred she ever afterwards bore him. The
Princess de Gu6menee, furious at having been abandoned,
offered the Queen, if she would consent to it, to procure
the disappearance of the Coadjutor by sending him an
invitation, and then having him confined in a cellar of her
hotel. De Retz learned that a design to assassinate him
had been formed, and whenever he repaired to the H6tel de
Chevreuse, by way of precaution placed sentinels outside
the gate of that mansion, and quite close to the Queen's
sentries who guarded the Palais-Royal, without heeding the
effect such an excess of insolence and scandal produced.
With every Mnd of talent fitting to dominate party spirit,
he failed to acquire the confidence of anyone. He regarded
aU alUance with the foreigner as odious and impohtic ; and
notwithstanding, when his embarrassments increased, he
lent an ear to the Archduke's envoy, and even to that of
Cromwell. At the same time, full of admiration for the
Marquis of Montrose, whom he called a hero worthy of
Plutarch, he contracted the closest friendship with the
Scottish royalist, and aided him to the utmost of his abUity
in the efforts he was making to restore to the throne the
legitimate King of Great Britain. De Retz, in few words,
appeared anxious to show himself as taking pleasure in
exhausting every kind of contrast. When the intricate
plot of the drama in which he was engaged had become so
complicated by his intrigues, that he no longer saw the
possibility of unraveUing it, he sought means to retfre from
the situation with the greatest advantage practicable for
himself and friends, and to obtain the Cardinal's hat. The
VOL. I. r

2IO Political Women.
marriage of MademoiseUe de Chevreuse with the Prince
de Conti became the essential condition of all the negotia
tions which he carried on, whether with the Court or with
the Duchess de Chevreuse. The remembrance of an old
and close friendship, the habit of a famUiarity contracted in
youth, gave the Duchess de Chevreuse a means of influence
over that Queen, so flxed in her hatred, so inconstant in her
friendships. Anne of Austria, who then, moreover, found
herself very miserable through the obstacles which so many
factions created, had partially restored the Duchess to her
confidence. Madame de Chevreuse appeared also to have
the same interests as De Retz, since, like him, she desired
intensely the union of her daughter with a Prince of the
blood. But she had large sums of money to recover from
the Government, and the success of her claims depended on
the decision of the prime minister. She therefore used her
utmost tact with Mazarin, negotiating at the same time with
him, as well as with the Old and the New Fronde. She turned
to her own profit the influence that her connections at Court,
with the Coadjutor, and with the Princes gave her in all the
several factions. She was assisted in her intrigues by the
Marquis de Laignes, a man of courage but Httle intellect,
who, from the time of her exile at Brussels, had declared
himself her lover in order to gain importance in the faction
of the Fronde, which he had embraced. As little more of
the attractions of her youth were left to Madame de Che
vreuse, save their pristme celebrity, she had not always to
congratulate herself upon the good humour and behaviour
of De Laignes. The latter had been until then wholly
devoted to the Coadjutor ; but De Retz soon perceived that
De Laignes entered into projects different from his own.
At length, to have some one who could be responsible to him

Political Women.

211

for Madame de Chevreuse, he endeavoured to substitute
Hacqueville as a go-between in the place of De Laignes.
Hacqueville was the intimate friend of De Retz and also of
Madame de Sevigne; and seconded by Madame de Che
vreuse and Madame de Rhodes, De Retz might have suc
ceeded in the expulsion of Laignes, if Hacqueville would
have consented to that project. No man could be more
obliging than Hacqueville; but, notwithstanding the dis
position he showed to be useful to his friends, he shrank
from such continual immolation of himself. Probably also
he was too honest a man to lend himself to such a pro
cedure. Madame de Sevigne, — in every way qualified to play a
distinguished part in the exciting game of politics, — was so
entfrely devoted to her husband and chUdren as to be a
stranger to all these intrigues ; but she was more or less
connected with the persons who seconded the Coadjutor's
projects, and consequently with the Duchess de Chevreuse.
An article in the " Muse Historique" of Loret shows how
intimate was the connection of Madame de Sevigne with
that Duchess. In the month of July, 1850, on retm'nmg
from a promenade in the Cours, then the fashionable drive
among the highest society, the Marquis and Marchioness de
Sevigne gave a splendid supper to the Duchess de Che
vreuse. The noisy manner in which the Frondeurs expressed
their delight made this nocturnal repast almost assume the
character of an orgie; and, for that reason, it became for
awhile the talk of the capital. The rhyming gazetteer
thus expresses himself on the subject :
On fait ioi grand' mention
D'une belle coUation p 2

212 Political Women.
Qu'b. la Duchesse de Chevreuse
Sevigni, de race frondeuse,
Donna depuis quatre ou cinq jours,
Quand on fut revenue du Cours.
On y vit briller aux chandeUes
Des gorges passablement belles ;
On y vit nombre de galants ;
On y mangea des ortolans ;
On chanta des chansons Ji boire ;
On dit cent fois non — oui — non, voire.
La Fronde, dit-on, y claqua ;
Tin plat d'argent on escroqua ;
On repandit quelque potage,
Et je u'eu sais pas davantage.*
It will be seen from these details, that already the manners
and customs of the great world reflected the licence of the
civil wars, and that they no longer resembled those of which
the H6tel de RambouiUet still presented a purer model. It
may be possible also that there was some exaggeration in
Loret's description : he belonged to the Court party, received
a pension of two hundred crowns from Mazarin, and detested
the Fronde. His rhyming gazette was addressed to his
protectress. Mademoiselle de Longueville, so much the more
opposed to the Fronde that her stepmother was the heroine
of that faction. Mademoiselle de LongueviUe, whose harsh
, strictures upon the Conde family have been cited, and who
subsequently became the wife of the Duke de Nemours, is
often mentioned in the writings of her time, although she
was never mixed up in any political intrigue, nor took part
in any event. Her immense fortune, the clearness of her
judgment, the elevation of her sentiments, her grand afrs,
the severe dignity of her manners, and the energy of her
character, constituted her during the Regency and the long
* Loret, Muse Historique, liv. i., p. 28, Letter 10.

Political Women. 213
reign of Louis XIV. a personage quite apart ; who sub
mitted herself to no influence whatever, social or political,
and who no more permitted that absolute monarch to induce
her to vary in her determinations, than to change the fashion
of her external habiliments.

CHAPTER III.
STATE OF PARTIES ON THE LIBERATION OF THE PRINCES 
THE CARDS AGAIN SHUFFLED, AND THE FACE OF THE
SITUATION CHANGED.
At the commencement of 1651 all France clamoured for
Conde's Hberation. During the autumn Mazarin had led
the Queen and the young King against Bordeaux, then held
by the Prmcess de Conde, carrying — as usual when forced
to use both means — a sword in one hand and a roU of
parchment in the other. Failing to carry the place with
the first, the Cardinal began to negotiate a treaty of peace,
the principal item of which was full pardon to the citizens,
and by others an agreement that the Princess and her son
should retire to Montrond : on these terms the city yielded
to its sovereign. The Cardinal also obtained a victory in
the field against Turenne, who had entered the service of
Spain and fired upon the fleur-de-lis. But with this mo
mentary success of Mazarin's cause rose his pretensions
and demands; and the Fronde, alarmed at his recovered
authority, changed its tactics as its Protean genius De Retz
frequently did his clothes — his cassock for a plumed hat
and military cloak. It demanded the trial or liberation of
the prisoners it had helped to send to Vincennes, without
delay, and Mazarin removed them for safe custody to Havre.
It then pronounced sentence of banishment on the obnoxious

Political Women. 215
minister, and ordered him to quit the kingdom within fifteen
days. The town militia kept watch and ward over the
Queen, by the command of the Coadjutor, and hindered her
flight to join the favourite. She could offer no further
resistance to those who now called themselves the friends of
Conde, but who were the very same persons who had fought
him in the field a few months before. Orders were given to
set the captives at liberty. Mazarin himself went to Havre
to communicate the news of their freedom, and was received
by them with the contempt that he might have expected.
Conde took leave of the Cardinal with a ringmg peal of
laughter, and with joyous acclamations, and bonfires, and
firing of guns, made his triumphal entry mto Paris.
Conde was now master of the situation. He found
himself equally courted by the two other chief parties into
which the State was divided — the Queen's, supported by
the Duke de Bouillon, and the now repentant and par
doned Turenne — and the Fronde, which had fallen into
the guidance of the Duke d'Orleans, the Coadjutor, and
the Duchess de Chevreuse. His own was called "the
Prince's," and comprised Rochefoucauld and other per
sonal friends and military admirers. The Duke d'Orleans
had gone on before to meet Condd as far as the plain of
St. Denis, accompanied by the two most conspicuous repre
sentatives of the Fronde, the Duke de Beaufort and Retz,
with the Coadjutor of Paris, and there they all warmly
embraced. The Duke, having taken the Prince into his
carriage, brought him in great pomp to the Palais Royal
to salute the Queen Regent and the young King, and thence
to the Palais d'Orleans, where he was feasted magnificently.
Some days afterwards (February 25th) a royal ordonnance
recognised the innocence of the Princes Conde, Conti, and

2i6 Political Women.
the Duke de LongueviUe, and reinstated them in aU their
posts and governments. On the 27th this ordonnance was
confirmed in Parhament amidst loud cheers. Conde thus
found himself at the highest degree of power to which a
subject could reach. Misfortune had enhanced his mihtary
glory; a long captivity, endured with an unalterable serenity
and high-hearted gaiety, had carried his popularity to the
highest pitch. He was the victor, and, as it were, the de
signated heir, of Mazarin, who had fled before him, and
with difficulty found a refuge without the kingdom, on the
banks of the RMne.
Thus, Anne of Austria in some sort a prisoner, and
Mazarin proscribed, the nobility showed itself entirely de
voted to the young hero whom it recognized as its chief.
Some among them at once proposed that the Queen Mother
should be confined in the Val-de-Grace, and that the Prince
should himself assume the Regency, others talked even of
raising him to the throne, but Conde did not fail to perceive
that his newly acquired power was not so soHd as it was
sought to make him believe.
Meanwhile, Mazarin having quitted Havre, and the inha
bitants of Abbeville refusing him passage through their
town, he found an asylum for a few days at Dourlens ; but
he was soon driven thence by the proceedings of the Parlia
ment against him. He then retired to Sedan, where he
took counsel with his friend Fabert, whom he had appointed
Commandant there. He next proceeded to Cologne, being
treated with the utmost distinction and hospitality in aU the
foreign towns through which he passed.
Even in banishment, however, the old influence began to
work. The Cardinal from his place of retirement governed
the Queen with as absolute a sway as ever, and recom-

Political Women. 2 1 7
mended her, as a keen stroke of policy which would neutral
ize all parties, to take the young King to a Bed of Justice,
and cause him to declare his majority. Couriers were going
daily between Paris and Cologne ; treaties between the
Fronde and Mazarin were intercepted or forged, and pub
lished in the capital ; the post of Prime Minister remained
unfilled, and the Duke de Mercoeur, notwithstanding all the
thunders of Parliament, set out for Bruhl, with the pur
pose of marrying Mazarin's niece. Everything announced
that the exile of that hated minister was but temporary, and
Conde, perceiving the object of all these moves, prepared for
war, and silently took his measures accordingly.
The nobility, who, from the beginning of February, had
begun to assemble in order to take part in the expulsion of
Mazarin, now held their meetings in the monastery haU of
the Cordeliers, where might be seen collected together
as many as eight hundred princes, dukes, and noblemen,
heads of the most considerable houses in France, all parti
sans of Conde. As this numerical strength of the ennobled
classes, together with the multiplicity of titles among them,
is somewhat startling to a youthful English student, it may
be weU to remark that France had, in fact, three aristocra
cies in the course of her- annals from the Crusades to the
reign of Louis XIV. After the time of Louis XL, the
representatives of the first, or old feudal aristocracy, the
descendants of the men who were in reality the King's
peers, and not his actual subjects, were few and far between.
These were the holders of vast principalities, who main
tained a kind of royal state in their own possessions, and
kept high courts of judicature over life and limb in the
whole extent of their hereditary fiefs. In the long English
wars, from Crecy to Agincourt, the great body of them disr

2i8 Political Women.
appeared, and only here and there a great vassal was to be
¦seen, distinguished in nothing from the other nobles, except
in the loftiness of his tities and the reverence that stiU clung
to the sound of Ms historic name. The second aristocracy
arose among the descendants of the survivors of the Enghsh
and Itahan wars. They claimed their rank, not as coming
down to them from the tenure of almost independent
counties and dukedoms, but as proprietors of ancestral
lands, to which originaUy subordinate rights and duties had
been attached. Mixed with those, we saw the Noblesse of
the Robe, as the great law officers were caUed, who consti
tuted a parallel but not identical nobility with their lay com
petitors. The third aristocracy was now about to make its
appearance, the creation of Court favour, and badge of per
sonal or official service — possessors of a nominal rank with
out any correspondmg duty — a body selected for ornament,
and not for use — and mcorporating with itself, not onty
the marquis and viscount, fresh from the mint of the minister
or favourite, but the highest names in France.
The aristocracy of the sword, and of ancient birth, had
itself to blame for this degradation. Great alterations in
manners or government — such as give a new character to
human affafrs — always seem brought about by some strange
relaxation of morals, or atrocity of conduct, which makes
society anxious for the change. The unfortunate custom in
France which gave every male member of a noble family a
title equivalent to that of its chief, so that a simple viscount
with ten stalwart and penniless sons gave ten stalwart and
penniless vistounts to the aristocracy of his country, had
filled the whole land with a race of men proud of their
origin, filled with reckless courage, careless of Hfe, Snd
despising all honest means of employment by which their

Political Women. 219
fortunes might have been improved. Mounted on a sorry
steed and begirt with a sword of good steel, the young cavalier
took his way from the miserable castie on a rock, where his
noble father tried in vain to keep up the appearance of dailj'-
dinners, and wondered how in the world all his remaining
sons and daughters were to be clothed and fed, and. made
his way to Paris. There he pushed his fortune — fighting,
bullying, gambling, and was probably stabbed by some
drunken companion and flung into the Seine. If he was
lucky or adroit enough, he stabbed his drunken friend and
pushed 'him into the stream ; and, after a few months of
suing and importunity, obtained a saddle in the King's
Guards, or a pair of boots in the Musqueteers. At this
time it came out that in twenty years of the reign of
Louis XIII. there had been eight thousand fatal duels in
different parts of the realm. Out of the duels which were
daUy carried on, four hundred in each year had ended in the
death of one of the combatants. When the fiercest of
English wars is shaking every heart in the Mngdom, there
-would be waiUng and misery in every house if it were
reported that four hundred officers had been killed in a
year. Yet these young desperadoes were aU of officer's
rank, and the quarrel in which they feU was probably either
dishonourable or contemptible. Men fought and kUled each
other for a word or a look, or a fashion of dress, or the
mere sake of kUHng. Where morality is loosened to the
extent of a disregard of life, we may be sure the general
behaviour in other respects is equally to be deplored. There
was great and almost universal depravity in the conduct of
high and low. Vice and sensuality found refuge and protection
even in the presence of princesses and queens. People
residing'in remote places heard only of the gorgeous Hcence

220 Political Women.
in wMeh the great and powerful lived. They knew them
only durmg their visits to their ancestral homes as worn-out
debauchees from the great city, who brought the profligacy
of the purlieus of the Louvre into the peaceful cottages of
the peasantry on their estates. It was, indeed, so much the
fasMon to be wicked, that a gentleman was Mndered from
the practice of his Christian or social duties by the fear of
ridicule. The life of man, therefore, and the honour of
woman were held equaUy cheap; and the bUnded, rash, and
self-indulgent nobihty laid the foundation, in contempt of
the feehngs of its mferiors and neglect of their interests,
for the terrible retribution which even now at intervals
might be seen ready to take its course.

CHAPTER IV.
THE DUCHESSES DE LONGUEVILLE AND DE CHEVREUSE AND
THE PRINCESS PALATINE IN THE LAST FRONDE.  RESULTS
OF THE RUPTURE OF THE MARRIAGE PROJECTED BETWEEN
THE PEINCE DE CONTI AND MADEMOISELLE DE CHEVREUSE.
We must now revert to Conde's heroic sister. Having
glanced somewhat hastily at the brilliant part played by
Madame de LongueviUe in the two first epochs of the
Fronde, the war of Paris and that which iUuminated the
prison of Conde, we are now about to foUow her through
the third and last period, which commences from the dehver
ance of the Princes, in February, 1651, and only ends with
the war of Gmenne, in August, 1653 ; — the longest, the
most disastrous, and at the same time most obscure epoch
of the civil war. It will be necessary to strip the mask
from more than one Ulustrious actor in it, exhibit the reverse
of the most showy medals, and the shadows which every
where mingle with glory, genius, and even virtue itself. The
character of the Duchess de Longueville has its charming,
its subUme aspects ; but, alas ! it is far from being irre
proachable. In dwelling upon the least favourable portion
of her life, we shall often do well to remember that the
errors of great minds sometimes subserve their perfection,
by the beneficent virtue of the remorse to which they give
rise, and that the sister of the Great Conde must probably

222 Political }]'0!llCU.
have felt in all its fulness tho vanity of ambition and of
false grandeur, nil the bitterness of guilty passions, in
taking an early farewell of them, to resume the anstore path
of duty, to return, in fine, to Carmel nnd ascend to Porl
Royal. Mndnme de Ijongueville had rcnuiinod at Stenny with
Turenne for some time after her l)ro(lun''s and husband's
liberation, both occupied in disengaging themselves from
the engagements which they had coutnuted with Spain for
the deliverance of the Princes, and with negotiating a truco
calculated to clear tho way for the niucli-dosired general
peace. Recalled by the pressing instances of her family,
she hnd quitted Stenay on the 7tli of JMaicli, before the com
pletion of her work. On arriving in Paris " universal ap
plause greeted her heroic deeds." ]\Ionsieur had hastened
to pay her a visit with Mademoisello JMontpensicr, nnd a
train of ladies of the highest distinction. She wont after
wards that same day to present her homage to their ]\Iiijes-
ties, from whom she met with tho most gracious reception.
That moment was, unquestionably, the most brilliant of her
whole career. In 1017, after tho embassy to Munster, her
return to France nnd its Court had been also a veritable
triumph, as we have attempted to show ; but the power of
her house and the glory of her brother constituted nearly all
the merits of it. Sho only contributed thereto tiio influence
of her wit and beauty. After Stenny, tho i\dat which sur
rounded her was in some sort more personnl. Hlio had just
displayed eminent qualities which raised her almost to tho
level of Condo. In Normandy who had exhibited herself ns
an intrepid adventuress, and n skUful politiciiui in the Low
Countries. When, during the imprisonment of her two
brothers and her husband, her sister-in-law, the Princess dc

Political Women. 223
Condd, had been forced at Bordeaux to recognize the royal
authority, she discovered that the destinies of her house had
devolved upon her. She had become the head of a great
party. She had treated as from power to power with Spain ;
her Avord had appeared a sufficient guarantee to the Arch
duke Leopold and to the Count de Fuensaldagne. She had
held in hand such commanders as Turenne, La Moussaye,
Bouteville ; and when, after the battle of Rethel, she seemed
to be on the very verge of destruction, she had succeeded in
recovering the advantage, and in contributing more than any
one else to the deliverance of the Princes, thanks to the
profound negotiations carried on in her name by the Prin
cess Palatine. Whilst statesmen estimated her capacity,
the multitude admired her courage and constancy. She
was, in short, in possession of that political r61e with which
La Rochefoucauld had dazzled her gaze in order to conceal
his own designs : — a glittering chimera which, mingling itself
with that of love, had seduced that ardent and haughty soul
of hers. She was then the idol of Spain, the terror of the
Court, one of the grandeurs of her family. We shall soon
see whether she can better sustain this new ordeal than she
did the first, at the close of the year 1647.
The Fronde gathered the fruit of its skilful conduct dur
ing the month of January, 1651. It was that faction which,.
silencing its old animosities and promptly extending its
hand to the partisans of Condd, had extricated him from
prison, in order to acquire and place at its head, together
with the King's uncle, the lieutenant-general of the King
dom, the first prince of the blood, the victor of Rocroi and
Lens, the hero of the age. It carried everything before it
— at Court, in parliament, upon the public places ; it had
proscribed and put to flight Mazarin ; it held Anne of Aus-

2 24 Political Women.
tria a captive in her palace ; already even it had penetrated
into the cabmet in the person of the aged Chateauneuf, in
whom ambition cherished beneath the snows of winter the
vigour of youth, and whose capacity was scarcely inferior to
his ambition. The moment had arrived for accomplishing
the work afready begun, and for putting into execution the
plan determined upon between the Princess Palatine and
Madame de Chevreuse.
Those two strong-mmded women had conceived the idea
of a grand aristocratic league which should seat the Fronde
upon an union of aU the interests wMch it comprised, close
the avenues of France and the Court to Mazarin, and under
the auspices of the Duke d'Orleans and the Prince de
Condd form a government into wMch the friends of both
should enter, the most accredited representatives of every
fraction of a party. Further, the basis of this plan was
that of a double marriage : on the one side between the
young Duke d'Enghien and one of the Duke d'Orleans'
daughters, on the other between the Prince de Conti and
the daughter of Madame de Chevreuse.* This latter mar
riage might be accomplished immediately. Conde had
accepted the proposition without any difficulty. Madame
de LongueviUe, far from opposing it at Stenay, had em
braced the idea of it with so much ardour that, in a letter to
the Palatme of the 26th of November, 1650, after having
weighed the different resolutions to be taken, she stops at
this latter, and concludes thus : " this, therefore, is what we
must stick to." That marriage was, in short, of a supreme
* Eetz himself has taien care to inform us of his sad Uaism, with
MademoiseUe de Chevreuse, throughout the whole of the second volume
and beginning of the third of his Memoirs. Amsterdam edition, 1731.
That unfortunate lady died suddenly of a fever, unmarried, in 1652. She
was bom in 1627.

Political Women. 225
importance : it gave the house of Conde to the Fronde for
ever, and the Fronde to the house of Cond§ ; for the Fronde
was then Madame de Chevreuse. She disposed, by her
daughter, of the Coadjutor, who in his turn disposed of the
Duke d'Orleans, and by him of the parliament. It was
Madame de Chevreuse who, in 1650, had emboldened Maza
rin to lay his hand upon Conde, in making him see that he
might strike that bold stroke with impunity, since she
answered to him for the secret conmvance of the Duke
d'Orleans and the parliament, who were alone able to oppose
it. Here, Mazarin had committed an immense blunder :
seeing himself delivered from Conde, by the aid of the
Fronde, having nothing more hostile to cope with than the
latter, he had imagined himself able to turn round upon it,
and had treated Madame de Chevreuse very cavalierly, who,
growing cold towards the Cardinal, and no longer finding it
to her account to serve him, had lent an ear to the proposi
tions of Conde's friends, and had procured his release from
prison, reconcUiag to him the Duke d'Orleans and the par
liament, which at first she had stirred up against him. She
brought, moreover, to the house of Conde the most politic
mind of the Fronde, an audacity towering to the height of
his designs, a consummate experience, with the support of her
three powerful families, the houses of de Rohan, de Luynes,
and Lorraine. She rendered sure the alliance of the Duke
d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde, and completed the ruin
of Mazarin by constructing a strong government which
probably might have succeeded ultimately in triumphing
over the affection of the Queen. She held in hand a states
man bred in the school of Richelieu, and whom she judged
capable of replacing Mazarin, the former Keeper of the
Seals — Chateauneuf, already a member of the Cabinet. She

226 Political Women.
believed herself certain of acquiring De Retz by means of
the Cardinal's hat. She had not the least objection to make
to the elevation of the friends of Conde, and she was ready
to favour the ambition of La Rochefoucauld, for whom for
merly, in 1643, she had so greatly importuned the Queen
and Mazarin. Add to all this, that on quitting the citadel of
Havre, the young Prince de Conti had not beheld the lovely
Charlotte de Lorraine without being smitten with her charms,
and he himself strongly desired that marriage. Who, then,
prevented it ? Who broke off the contracted engagement ?
Who struck at and wounded by the self-same blow the Pala
tine and Madame de Chevreuse ? Who restored them both
and for ever to the Queen and Mazarin ? Who destroyed
the Fronde by dividing it ? We shall find out by-and-by,
but let us merely say just now that it was the rupture of
that marriage which again shuffled the cards and changed
the face of the situation. In pitting against himself those
who had so powerfuUy succoured him in his misfortune,
Conde ought at least to have drawn closer to the Court and
had a serious understanding with the Queen ; but he ter
giversated, and at the end of some months of that wavering
policy, he found himself standing unmasked between the
Court and the Fronde, both equally discontented with him,
repeating and exaggerating the blunder committed by Maza
rin. The greatest error during the course of a revolution
is to believe that the support of either of the parties who
are in actual collision may be dispensed with. At the
close of a revolution the attempt to dominate may be tried ;
during the crisis a choice must be made. Mazarin had fallen
through having tried to dominate the Fronde and Condd at
one and the same time; Condd.lost himself in thinking to
dominate the Fronde and the Court.

Political Women. 227
It is an historical problem very difficult to solve, as to
who was the author of the rupture of the marriage projected
between the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle de Che
vreuse. AVe are well inclined to believe that that individual
at any rate was the chief author of the rupture to whom it
was the most profitable. The Queen and Mazarin, who
from his place of retirement governed her with as absolute .
a sway as ever, saw from the first the danger which threat
ened them from such an alliance, entirely unexpected as it
was by both. The negotiations between Madame de Che
vreuse, while Condd was prisoner, and Madame de Longue
ville at S'tenay, had been conducted by the Palatine with
such consummate skill and perfect secrecy that neither the
Queen nor Mazarin had the slightest suspicion of them.
When the rumour reached the ears of the Cardinal in his
retreat at Bruhl, near Cologne, he broke out against Madame
de Chevreuse with a violence the coarseness of which even
was an involuntary homage rendered to the profound ability
of Marie de Rohan. The Queen showed herself warmly
opposed to it, and the ministers were ordered to thwart in
every way the projected alliance. They began, therefore, to
negotiate with Conde. As a result of these negotiations he
obtained in exchange for his government of Burgundy that
of Guienne, one of far greater importance ; he was even led
to indulge a hope that Provence would be given to the Prince
de Conti instead of Champagne and La Brie, and the port
and fortress of Blaye to La Rochefoucauld in augmentation of
his government of Poitou, although there was not the
slightest intention of fulfilling that hope. So states the
Duchess de Nemours, the enemy of the Fronde and the
Condes, and who, having given herself to the Court party,
must have' well known its intentions. De Retz Hkewise

2 28 Political Women,
doubts not that the Queen combated an alliance so evidently
opposed to her interests. Madame de MotteviUe, the Queen's
close friend, avows it. In short, it is certain, and we have
hereupon the irrefragable testimony of Madame de Motte
viUe, that when the Queen had succeeded in gaining over
Conde, she caused Madame de Chevreuse to be informed
" that she desired that such marriage should not take place,
because it had been concerted for objects inimical to the
royal interests. This command was the cause of all these
propositions falHng through and that they were no more
spoken of."
But how did the Queen gain over Cond^, and what part
did Madame de Longueville play in the affair? That
is certainly what neither De Retz could know, who was only
aware of what passed in parliament, in the Palais d'Orleans,
and the H6tel de Chevreuse ; nor the Duchess de Nemours
and Madame de MotteviUe, who were not in the confidence
of the Hotel de Condd : they could only repeat hereupon
what they had heard said in the Court circle, and they must
be considered solely as the echoes of reports which it suited
the Queen to spread. That is so probable that the one and
the other, differing so widely as they did both in intention
and feeling, teU exactly the same tale. Madame de Motte
viUe states positively that Madame de Longueville, as soon
as she returned from Stenay, advised Conde to break with
the Chevreuses, and that La Rochefoucauld supported her
in such design ; and these are the motives which she attri
butes to her : — " Madame de Longueville, who had been
long jealous of the beauty and graces of MademoiseUe de
Chevreuse, could little bear to contemplate the probability
of her being raised to a rank even more elevated than her
own, and stiU less, that she should obtain the great influence

Political Women. 229
which such a person was likely to acquire over both her
princely brothers. She had, therefore, exerted all her
influence over Cond^, and with him had been quite success
ful. But Conti was still in the height of his passion for the
beautiful and fascinating girl who had been promised to him
during his imprisonment ; he supped every evening at the
H6tel de Chevreuse, and Ms affections, as well as his honour,
were fully engaged." The Duchess de Nemours says the
same thing in the same terms.
Confidant and adviser of Madame de Longueville and of
Conde, La Rochefoucauld alone knew the whole truth, and
could have told it to posterity ; but it was not to teU the
truth that his memoirs were penned, only too frequently to
conceal it, to set in strong relief that which had been well
done, and slur over that which had been badly done, or to
cast the blame of it upon others. Attentive to the study of
his part, and to never accept a bad one. La Rochefoucauld
says truly that the Frondeurs, eagerly pressing forwards the
marriage of the Prince de Conti with MademoiseUe de Chev
reuse, and seeing it retarded, " suspected Madame de Longue
ville and the Duke de la Rochefoucauld of a design to break
it off, for fear that the Prince de Conti should escape from
their hands only to fall into those of Madame de Chevreuse
and of the Coadjutor ; " but he endeavours to give a reason for
these suspicions, and to inform us whether they were well
or ill founded. Instead of defending himself, and Madame
de Longueville, he accuses Conde of having "adroitly in
creased the suspicions of the Frondeurs against his sister
and La Rochefoucauld, firmly believing that so long as they
held that belief, they would never discover the true cause of
the postponement of the marriage." And what was that true
cause ? Here it is, according to La Rochefoucauld : it was.

230 Political Women.
that the Prince de Cond^ " not having as yet either con
cluded or broken off his treaty with the Queen, and having
been informed that the keeper ofthe seals — Chateauneuf — was
about to be dismissed, wished to await that event to conclude
the marriage, if Cardinal Mazarin were ruined by M. de Cha
teauneuf, or to break it off and make through that his court to
the Queen, should M. de Chateauneuf be driven away by the
Cardinal." This interpretation of Conde's conduct does not do him
great honour, but it is a very probable one. In the first
place, if La Rochefoucauld knew how to glide so cleverly over
all the ticklish points in which he could not appear to advan
tage, he did not, strictly speaking, tell lies ; he retires rather
than attacks, unless hurried away by passion, and he was
never in a passion with Cond6. And, further, the conduct
which he attributes to Cond^ springs quite naturally out of
the false position in which Conde had, by degrees, suffered
himself to be placed.
Altogether, we are persuaded that Conde was then sincere.
His sole error, and it is that which marked his entire con
duct during the Fronde, was the not having had, either on
this occasion or any other, a fixed and unalterable object.
On the 13th of April the Queen took the seals from Madame
de Chevreuse's friend, Chateauneuf, the representative of the
Fronde in the Cabinet, to give them to the gravest person of
his time, the first president, Mathieu M0I6, a worthy servant
of the State, very little friendly to the Fronde, and who then
was sufficiently favourable towards the Prince de Conde. That
same day she recalled to the Council as Secretary of State
the Count de Chavigny, who had been formerly minister for
Foreign Affairs under RicheHeu. Formed in the school of
¦ the great Cardinal, as well as Mazarin, ousted from place,

Political Women. 231
crafty and resolute, feeling himself capable of bearing the
weight of a miaistry, Chavigny had beheld with a sufficiently
ominous countenance, after the death of their common
master, the sudden elevation of a colleague who had even
begun by being his dependent. Since 1643, vanity had
turned him aside from the high road of ambition, and he
had entangled himself in the brakes of very compHcated in
trigues. In 1651, he passed as the friend of Condd It was
then only, if we can believe La Rochefoucauld, that Cond^
declared himself opposed to the marriage of his j'outhful
brother with MademoiseUe de Chevreuse ; and it was time
that he opposed it, for that marriage was on the eve of
accomplishment. Conti gave proof of the most ardent pas
sion for Mademoiselle de Chevreuse ; he paid her a thousand
attentions which he hid from his friends, and particularly
from his sister, for whom he ever professed to entertain an
undivided adoration. He held long conferences with the
Marquis de Laigues and other intimate friends of Made
moiseUe de Chevreuse ; it was even feared lest he should
marry her without the necessary dispensations and without
the participation ofthe head of his family. Condd, therefore,
decided to act at once, and the reputation of the fair lady
afforded him a means of attack which he employed with
success upon his brother. He seems to have had no great
difficulty in attaining his object. The Prince de Conti soon
received proof that she was not by any means so immaculate
as he had beheved : her scarcely doubtful connection with
the Coadjutor was placed in its true Hght, and, convinced
that the object of his passion was unworthy the love of a
man of honour, he began to look upon her with horror.
¦" He even blamed Madame de LongueviUe and the Duke de
la Rochefoucauld for not having warned him sooner of what

232 Political Women.
was said of her in society. From that moment means of
of breaking off the affair without acrimony were sought ; but
the interests involved were too great, and the circumstances
too piquant not to renew and augment still more the old
hatred of Madame de Chevreuse and the Frondeurs against
the Prmce de Condd, and against those whom they suspected
of taking part in that which had just been done.*
This testimony would justify Madame de Longueville and
La Rochefoucauld himself for having urged Condd upon that
disloyal and impolitic rupture, if one could believe it to be
entfrely sincere ; but it is very difficult to admit that Madame
de Longueville and her all-powerful adviser could have
remained strangers to a determination so important, and
there are many doubts and obscurities resting upon this deli-
point. De Retz, whose introspect was so penetratmg, and
who does not pride himself on any great reserve in his judg
ments, knew not what opinion to form — Condd, Madame de
Longueville, and La Rochefoucauld having afterwards assured
him that they had had nothing to do with the rupture of the
marriage. But whose soever was the hand that broke off the projected
aUiance of the Condes with Madame de Chevreuse, it is
beyond doubt that that had lost Condd and saved Mazarin.
All the errors which followed were derived from that cardinal
one. In it must be discerned the first link of that chain of
disastrous events which ended by dragging Condd into civil
war. The resentment of Madame de Chevreuse may well be
imagined, when she discovered that she had been tricked,
that she had separated herself from Mazarin and the Queen,
and had drawn Condd out of prison only to receive in ex-
* La Eochefoucauld, p. 69. Ketz, tom. ii., p. 223.

Political Women. 233
change such an unpardonable outrage! Already, even a
short time before, when the Queen ousted ChS,teauneuf with
out consulting the Duke d'Orleans, the wrath of the
Frondeurs had been such, that at a council held at the
Palais d'Orleans of the whole party, it was proposed to go,
on the part of the lieutenant-general, and demand back the
seals from Mathieu Mold. The most violent expedients
were suggested, and some among the more hot-headed spoke
of seizing their arms and descendmg into the streets.
Condd, who had not yet entirely broken with the Fron
deurs, and was present at this council with a few of his
friends, threw cold water upon every proposal that was
made, and energetically opposed the appeal to arms, de
claring that he did not understand waging "a war of paving-
stones and pots de chambre," and that he felt himself too
much of a coward for such a campaign as that.
After some time passed in sharp discussion, the Duke
retired into the apartments of his wife with De Retz, and
there a brief consultation ensued, in which the Duchess
d'Orleans, Madame de Chevreuse, and the Coadjutor en
deavoured to persuade him to arrest the leaders of the oppo
site party, and rouse the people to insurrection. The Duke
d'Orleans was in some degree moved ; Conde, Conti, and
the Duke de Beaufort and others, had retired into the
library, and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, springing towards
the door, exclaimed, " Nothing is wanting but a turn of the
key ! It would be a fine thing indeed for a girl , to arrest a
winner of battles ! "
The impetuosity of Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, however,
alarmed the timid Duke d'Orleans. Had he been brought
to it by degrees, he might have consented to the act; but
her movement towards the door startled Mm, and he began

234 Political Women.
to whistle, — which, as De Retz observes, was never a good
sign. Then declaring that he would consider of the matter
till the next morning, he walked quietly into the Hbrary,
and suffered the guests to depart in peace whom he had
been so sorely tempted to make prisoners.
At the same time in the parliament all the violent
measures taken against Mazarin were renewed: he was
banished and rebanished, with confiscation of his posses
sions, and even his books and pictures were ordered to
be sold. A decree had already been passed declaring all
foreign cardinals incapable of serving in France, and of
entering into the ministry. They did not stop there, and
certain councillors who were not in the secrets of the
party, and obeying only their passion, proposed to exclude
from the ministry even the French cardinals as being still
too dependent upon Rome. This sweeping motion was carried
amid loud cheers, which resounded through all parts of
the hall. Whereupon Conde laughingly remarked : " There's
a fine echo." That same echo was the ruin of De Retz's
hopes, who only so passionately desired to become a car
dinal in order to succeed to Mazarin. Shortly afterwards
the division between Cond^ and the Old Fronde was de
clared, and Cond6 applied himself to form an intermediate
party, a new Fronde, which became sufficiently powerful
to disquiet Madame de Chevreuse and the Coadjutor.*
'^'Imagine," says the latter, "what the royal authority
purged of Mazarinism would have been, and the party of
the Prince de Conde purged of faction ! More than aU,
what surety was there in M. the Duke d'Orleans ! "
But De Retz was not the only poHtician who terrified
himself with the idea of such a future looming thus darkly
* De Eetz, tom. ii., p. 205. f The same, p. 214.

Political Women, 235
for France. Mazarin dreaded it as much as he. His
authority was almost universally thought to be for ever
annihUated; but a small number of courtiers who could
read the Queen's heart, judged otherwise, and owed to the
skilful line of conduct to which they adhered under these
circumstances the high fortune to which they attained in
the sequel.
There is little doubt that, in the first instance, Cond^
might have carried off the Regency from the Queen, deprived
as she was of her prime mmister, and by her own acknow
ledgment incapable of governing by herself; but then the
direction of affairs belonged by right to the Duke d'Orleans,
of whom Cond6 was jealous. Conde, however, preferred to
keep the Regency in the Queen's hands, and by rendering
himself formidable to the Government, forcing it to reckon
with him. If that union of the Princes between themselves
and the Fronde faction had subsisted, the re-estabhshment of
the royal authority would have been impossible : and the
commencement of the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, who,
although he had only completed his thirteenth year, was
about, by the force of an exceptional law, to be declared of
age, would have offered the spectacle, so frequent in French
annals,* of a state a prey to the divulsion of factions and the
horrors of anarchy.
But for the happiness of France and the Queen-Regent,
Conde was as unskUful in poHtics as he was great in war.
He kept none of the promises he had made to the chiefs of
the Fronde, the authors of his deliverance. The marriage
of the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse,
which had been the base of the treaty, and involved other
engagements, was, as we have seen, remorselessly broken off.
* Eetz — La Koohefouoauld — Joly.

236 Political Women.
The Queen Regent, in order to succeed in bringing back her
favourite minister to power, had the tact to conceal his ad
vances, and therefore chose in the first instance to replace
him by Chavigny, who was his personal enemy. Then she ne
gotiated with all parties, and skilfully opposed the Fronde to
the Prince de Cond6, the latter to the Duke d'Orleans, the
parliament to the assembly of the nobles, the aversion to
Mazarin to the fear which the Coadjutor inspfred. Her
ministers, whom she abused, had only the semblance of
power ; all that was real was possessed by Mazarin. From
Bruhl, his place of exile, he governed France ; the Queen
adopted no resolution without its having been inspired by
him, or met with his approval. Thus hidden by the Regent's
mantle, the Cardinal followed with vigilant eye the quarrels
of the Prince de Conde and the Frondeurs, fomenting them
and inflaming them by every means at his disposal, prodi-
galising to Conde promises which must in the highest degree
have alarmed the Fronde, and entanglmg him daily more
and more in the meshes of intricate, tortuous negotiations,
until he had seen the separation, for which he manoeuvred,
irremediably consummated. Then he stopped,, and began
insensibly even to fall back. The placing of Provence in the
Prince de Conti's hands was deferred ; and in fact it was
held in reserve for the Duke de Mercoeur, the eldest son of
the Duke de Vendome, who was seeking the hand of one of
Mazarin's nieces ; and it was also found inexpedient to
deprive the Duke de Saint- Simon of Blaye to give it to La
Rochefoucauld ; and a thousand other difficulties of a like
nature were raised, which both astonished and irritated
Conde. Since he broke with the Fronde, it was apparently
to unite himself with the Queen, and the higher his ambition
soared, the more necessary it was to cover it with respect and

Political Women, 237
deference, in ordgr to hasten and secure the treaty on foot,
and to enchain the monarchy with his own fate. But the
fiery Cond^ was incapable of such a line of conduct. ' Find
ing unexpected obstacles where previously he had met with
faciUties and hopeful anticipations, he lost his temper, and
resumed the imperious tone which already, in 1649, had em
broiled him with the Queen and Mazarin.
It appears also that Madame de Longueville shared in the
soaring illusions of her brother, and that she bore but in
differently well her newly blown prosperity. Madame de
MottevUle gives us to understand so with her usual modera
tion, and the Duchess de Nemours rejoices to say so with all
the acrimony and doubtless also the exaggeration of hatred.*
It must, indeed, be owned, with the heroic instincts of Conde,
Madame de Longueville shared also his haughty spirit. All
her contemporaries ascribe to her an innate majesty which
did not show itself on ordinary occasions ; far from it, she
was simple, amiable, adding thereto, when desirous of pleas
ing, a caressing and irresistible gentleness ; but, with people
whom she disliked, she intrenched herself in a frigid dignity,
and Anne of Austria and she had never loved one another.
A misplaced haughtiness towards the Queen is attributed
to her. One day, says Madame de Nemours, she kept her
waiting for two or three hours. It is very doubtful whether
Madame de Longueville could have so far forgotten herself ;
but it is not impossible that she may have imagined, as well
as her; brother, that the fortunes of their house, having
emerged more brilliant than ever from so rude a tempest,
had no longer to dread the recurrence of further ill-omened
shocks. * Madame de MotteviUe, tom. iv., p. 346 ; Madame de Nemours,
p. 106.

238 Political Women.
They deceived themselves : an immense perU was hangmg
over thefr heads.
Immediately that Madame de Chevreuse had seen that
the Queen was growing colder towards Conde, and did not
seem disposed to keep the promises that had been made him,
her keen-sighted animosity instantly determined her course
of action, and being for ever separated frora Conde, she
again drew towards the Queen with an offer of her services
and those of her entire party against the common enemy.
Mazarin, recognising the error he had committed in giving
himself two enemies at the same time, and that at that mo
ment the redoubtable individual, the man who at any cost
must be destroyed, was Conde, very quickly forgothis grudges
against Madame de Chevreuse, and advised the acceptance
of her propositions. The Queen, it appears, was very averse
to receive De Retz, or avail herself of his services ; she de
tested him almost as much as she did Conde, weU knowing
that they were the two most dangerous enemies of him with
out whom she did not believe that she could really reign.
Mazarin exhorted her himself to flatter De Retz's ambition,
and, marveUously understanding each other at a distance —
almost as well as when in each other's presence, — they com
posed and played out in the most perfect manner a comedy
of which De Retz himself seems to have been the dupe, and
of which Cond^ was very nearly being the victim.
Madame de Chevreuse has already been depicted both in
good and evil, in her natural intelligence; quickness, keen
introspection, and poHtical genius, in her indomitable courage
and audacity, and all that she was capable of undertakmg in
order to attain her objects. It wiU now be necessary to
thoroughly understand De Retz's character, in order to per
ceive clearly the peril with which Cond6 was menaced.

Political Women. 239
By nature yet more restless than ambitious, a bad priest,
impatient of his condition and having long struggled to
emancipate himself from it, Paul de Gondi had prepared
himself for cabals by composing or translating the life of a
celebrated conspirator. Then, passing quickly from theory
to practice, he had entered into one of the most sinister plots
framed against RicheHeu, and for his first experiment he had
accepted the task, he, a young abbe, of assassinating the
Cardinal at the altar during the ceremony of Mademoiselle
de Montpensier's baptism. In 1643, he had not hesitated to
throw himself into the arms of the Importants ; but the title
of Coadjutor of Paris, which had just been conferred upon
him as a recompense for the virtues and services of his
father, arrested him. The Fronde seemed created altogether
expressly for him. He shared the parentage of it along with
La Rochefoucauld. In vain in his iMemoirs does he stu
diedly put forward general considerations : like La Roche
foucauld, he was only working for himself, and at least had
the candour to own it. Compelled to remain in the Church,
De Retz desired to rise in it as high as possible. He aspired
to a cardinal's hat, and soon obtained it, thanks to his inscrut
able manoeuvrmg ; but his supreme object was the post of
prime minister, and to reach it, he played that double game
which he so craftily concerted and so skUfuUy played out.
Seeing that Mazarin and Conde were not heads of a govern
ment which would leave to others acting with them any
great share of importance, he undertook to overthrow them,
the one by the other, to carve out his way between them by
them, and to raise upon their ruin the Duke d'Orleans, under
whose name he would govern. _ To effect this he incessantly
urged alike the Duke, the parliament, and the people, to
demand, as the first condition of any reconcUiation with the

240 Political Women.
Court, the dismissal of Mazarin, and at the same time he,
imder a mask, exhibited himself as a benevolent concihator
between royalty and the Fronde, promising the Queen, the
indispensable sacrifice accomplished, to smooth all difficul
ties, and to brmg over to her the Duke d'Orleans by separat
ing him from Conde. Such was the real mainspring of all
De Retz's movements — even those seemingly the most
contrary : first the cardinalate, then the premiership under
the auspices of the Duke d'Orleans, associated in some
sort with royalty, without Mazarin or Conde. He was
fain to hide his secret under the guise of the pubhc weal,
but that secret revealed itself by the very efforts he made
to conceal it, and it did not escape the penetration of La
Rochefoucauld, his accompHce at the outset of the Fronde,
afterwards his adversary, who had a perfect knowledge of
his character, and who had sketched it with a masterly
hand, as De Retz also thoroughly comprehended and admir
ably depicted La Rochefoucauld. De Retz was indeed the
evil genius of the Fronde. He always hindered it from
progressing whether led by Mazarin or Conde, because
he merely desired to have a weak government wMch he
could dominate. To arrive at that end, he was capable of
anything — tortuous intrigues, anonymous pamphlets, hy
pocritical sermons from the pulpit, studied orations in par
liament, popular insurrections and desperate coups de main.
Such was the man who, towards the end of May, 1651,
was admitted, much against her wiU, into the secret councUs
of Anne of Austria.
Anything was to be tried, however, which might dehver
her from the exactions of Conde. It was absolutely neces
sary that she should either grant his demands, or find
some support to enable her to resist them. She accord-

Political Women. 241
ingly despatched Marshal du Plessis to speak with De
Retz, at the archbishopric, towards one o'clock in the
morning, at which hour he generally returned from his
nocturnal visits to MademoiseUe de Chevreuse. De Retz
was wiUing to seize the opportunity of avenging himself
upon Conde, and probably judged he might do so without
bringing about the return of Mazarin. He accepted, then,
at once the Queen's invitation, and flung the letter of safe-
conduct which she had sent him into the fire, in order to
show his confidence in her promises. The foUowing night,
at twelve o'clock, he was brought into the Queen's Ora
tory by a back staircase, and a long conversation ensued
between them. Anne of Austria was very caressing in her
manner towards the Coadjutor, and sought, after winning
her way to his confidence, to embroil him with Chateauneuf,
by informing him that it was that friend of Madame de
Chevreuse who was the most opposed to Ms cardinalate,
because he wanted the hat for himself. It must be remem
bered that France at that moment had the appointment of a
cardinal at its disposition, and it had been long promised to
the Prince de Conti. Anne of Austria now offered it to De
Retz who, in reply, at the end of a long harangue, during
which the Queen interrupted him impatiently more than
once, assured her that he had not come there to receive
favours, but to merit them.
" What win you do for me, then ? " asked the Queen.
" What wiU you do ? "
" Madam," replied he, " I wiU obUge the Prince de Conde
to quit Paris ere eight days are over, and wUl carry off the
Duke d'Orleans from him before to-morrow night."
The Queen, transported with joy, extended her hand to
him saying — " Give me your hand on that, and the day after

242 Political Women.
to-morrow you are a cardinal, and moreover the second
amongst my friends."
A few days afterwards, De Retz and Madame de Chevreuse
had raised the entire Fronde against the Prince de Condd.
The worthy archbishop had announced his approach to the
enemy he was about to attack by a cloud of the same kind
of Hbels, satires, and epigrams, which he had always
found so efficacious in prejudicing the people of Paris
against any one whom he thought fit to hold forth to
popular odium. At the same time a multitude of criers
and hawkers were sent through the town, spreading, at the
very lowest price, all the sarcasms which had been com
posed at the archbishopric in the morning, to render the
conduct of Condd ridiculous, contemptible, and hateful in
the eyes of the multitude.
At length, when the Coadjutor believed that everything
had been sufficiently prepared, he made the Palatine write
to inform the Queen that he was about to go to the parlia
ment. Mademoiselle de Chevreuse was with the Regent at
the time she received this intimation; and the dehght which
it occasioned was so great that the virtuous and pious Anne
of Austria caught the archbishop's mistress in her arms, and
kissed her more than once, exclaiming, with no very great
regard for decorum, " You rogue ! you are now doing me as
much good as you have hitherto done me harm."
De Retz kept his word, and went to the parliament, but
the progress against Condd was so slow that Mazarin, the
Queen, and De Retz, began to revolve more summarj'
measures, and, towards the latter part of June, their delibe
rations ended in a sinister project of again arresting or of
assassinating Conde.
This obscure affair, as yet only partiaUy unveUed, and

Political Women. 243
which probably will never be so entirely, is not so dark and
impenetrable, however, as to prevent us from seeing, within
the shadow thereof, fearful and criminal purposes, to which
even the more open vices of the age are comparatively Hght.
We are told by De Retz that the Marshal de Hocquincourt,
with more frankness than the rest, proposed in direct terms
to assassinate Conde. The Coadjutor himself, however,
Madame de Chevreuse, and other leaders of the Fronde, but
above all Senneterre, who had about this time obtained a
great share of the Queen's confidence, opposed not only the
bold crime proposed at first by Hocquincourt, but also all
the schemes which he and others afterwards suggested, and
which, though apparently more mild, were all Hkely to end
in the same event.
Rumours of what was meditated soon reached the Prince's
ears, who then saw clearly the nature of his position. He
perceived that he had quarrelled thoroughly and for ever
with the Frondeurs and with the Queen, and that henceforth
he was placed between imprisonment and assassination. He
felt certain that this time, should he fall into the hands of
his enemies, he would be treated far more harshly than in
1650, and that probably he might never see the light again.
He despised death, but the idea of perpetual incarceration
was insupportable to him, and that idea fastening itself by
degrees on his mind caused projects to enter into it which
until then had only momentarUy crossed it.
Too high-minded to quit Paris as though he were terrified,
Conde exhibited no change, in his conduct; merely confining
himself to no longer visiting the Palais-Royal or the Palais
d'Orleans, and never going abroad without a numerous
escort of officers and retainers. Afready for some time past
foreseeing the storm that was gathering against him, he had
E 2

244 Political Women.
taken serious measures to confront it : he had strengthened
aU the fortresses that were in his hands. He had despatched
to Flanders the Marquis de SiUery, La Rochefoucauld's
brother-in-law, under pretext of finaUy disengaging Madame
de LongueviUe and Turenne from the treaties they had made
with the Spaniards in 1650, with secret instructions to renew
them, and to ascertain how far he might reckon on the assist
ance of Spain if he were compelled to draw the sword. The
Count de Fuensaldagne did not faU, agreeable to the pohcy
of his court, to promise much more than was asked of him,
and he omitted nothing calculated to stir up Conde to have
recourse to arms.
Chance had a share in urging Conde to take a further and
almost decisive step in the dangerous path that was openmg
before him. One evening, just as he had lain down on his
bed and was chatting with VineuU, one of Ms trusty friends,
the latter received a note which directed him to warn the
Prince that two companies of guards were advancing on the
side of the Faubourg Saint- Germain. It was thought that
those troops were about to mvest the hotel. Conde jumped
out of bed, dressed himself, mounted his horse instantly, and,
accompanied by a few attendants, took his way through the
faubourg Saint-Michel. On gaining the high road, he heard
the clatter of a somewhat strong body of horsemen ap
proaching, and tMnking that it was the squadron in search
of him, he fell back at first in the direction of Meudon ;
then, instead of re-entering Paris, when day broke he sought
an asylum in his chateau of Saint-Maur. He reached it on
the morning of the 6th of July ; and it may readUy be
guessed what the effect, in Paris and throughout the king
dom, of such a retreat was, and for such motives. The
Princess de Conde, the Prince de Conti, Madame de

Political Women. 245
LonguevUle, La Rochefoucauld, the Duke de Nemours, the
Duke de Richelieu, the Prince's most intimate friends, and
more than one illustrious personage, such as the Duke de
Bouillon and Turenne, repaired immediately to Saint-Maur.
In a day or two, Conde saw himself surrounded by a court
as briUiant and 'as numerous as that of the King, and there
he kept up a right royal festivity. After a while he sent a
considerable number of officers disguised into Paris, who
bestirred themselves in every quarter in his favour; and
when he considered himself in a position to hold Ms own
against both the Queen and the Frondeurs together, he quitted
Saint-Maur and returned to his hotel near the Palais
d'Orleans, desiring to put a good complexion on the aspect
of his affairs and to impose upon his enemies by that bold
and high-minded conduct.* He appeared again also in the
parliament, now once more become the battle-field of parties.
De Retz, fuU of his own individual hatred, augmented by that
of Madame de Chevreuse, seconded at once by the friends of
the Duke d'Orleans and by those of the Queen, burning to
tear from the Court and win, by serving it, the cardinal's
hat, the object of his ardent desires, the necessary stepping-
stone to his ambition, brought all his courage and vanity
towards enacting the part of the Prince's enemy. And
there, during the months of July and August, in that
pretended sanctuary of law and justice, passed all those
deplorable scenes which De Retz and La Rochefoucauld have
related, and in which Mazarin, from his retreat on the banks
of the Rhine, rejoiced to see his two enemies waste their
strength, and work unwittingly but surely their common ruin
and his approaching triumph.
A crisis was clearly inevitable. Conde could no longer
* La Rochefoucauld, p. 83.

246 Political Women.
perceive any sign of a pacific issue from the position in
which he had been placed, or rather in which he had placed
himself, and at his right hand stood Madame de Longue
ville and the Prince de Conti, who held no opinions contrary
to those of his sister, urging him to cut the knot which he
knew not how to untie. La Rochefoucauld stopped him for
a moment on the threshold of war, entreating Conde to
allow him to undertake fresh negotiations. The Prince
consented willingly thereto. Madame de Longueville was
opposed to it. La Rochefoucauld, spealdng to her with
that authority which his long devotion gave him, repre
sented to her the terrible responsibUity which she took upon
herself both towards Conde and the State, and he obtained
from her a promise that she would withdraw for a time from
the arena of strife, and accompany her sister-in-law, the
Princess de Cond6, to Berri, and allow him to remain in
Paris by the side of Conde in order to make a last essay
towards conjuring the tempest.
The fitting moment has now arrived to examine the con
duct of Madame de Longueville in these grave conjunctures,
the different feelings which animated her, and the true and
lamentable motive which determined her thus to hurry her
brother into civil war, and herself with him.
Let us remember : — Anne de Bourbon exhibited extraor
dinary contrasts in her character, entirely opposite qualities
which, developing themselves in turn according to circum
stances, gave a particular impress to different periods of
her life. She derived from nature and the Christian educa
tion she had received a delicate and susceptible conscience,
a humility in her own eyes and before God that would have
made her an accomplished CarmeHte ; and at the same time
she was born with that ardour of soul which is termed am-

Political Women. 247
bition, the instinct of glory and of grandeur. This instinct,
which was also that of her house and her age, soon obtained
the mastery on emerging from her pious adolescence, and
when she despaired of overcoming her father's resistance to
the serious desire she had manifested of burying herself, at
fifteen, in the convent of the Rue St. Jacques, with her
already formidable beauty and the nascent desire to shine
and to please. That desire was at once Madame de
Longueville's strength and weakness, the principle of her
coquetry amid the amusements of peace, as of her intre
pidity in the midst of war and danger. Once condemned to
live in the world, she transferred the dreams of glory which
she dared not realise for .herself, to gild her brother's wreath
of laurel, — that Louis de Bourbon, almost of the same age as
herself, the cherished companion of her infancy, so witty, so
generous, so bold, that he was at once a friend and a master,
and the idol of her heart, before another object had usurped
the place or after he had abandoned it. In the first and the
last portion of her life, which are incomparably the best, she
referred everything to Conde, and Conde had a confidence in
her altogether boundless. The suspicious and penetrating
Mazarin had very early formed that opinion of her, and in
the carnets, to which he has confided his very iamost feehngs,
he depicts her with the pen of an enemy, but of an enemy
who knew her well. " Madame de LongueviUe," says he,
" has entire power over her brother. She desires to see
Conde dominate and dispose of all favours. If she is. prone
to gallantrj^ it is by no means that she thinks of doing
wrong, but in order to make friends and servitors for her
brother. She insinuates ambitious ideas into his mind to
which he is already only too much inclined." If, in 1648,
she became violently enraged against her brother, it was

248 Political Women.
that, fascinated and misled by La Rochefoucauld, she
thought that Conde, by serving the Court and Mazarin, was
false to his own fame. In 1649, she had only too far con
tributed to make him enter by degrees upon that fatal path
into which La Rochefoucauld had lured herself. Here,
pride nourished the hope of one day seeing the Cond6s
replace the D'Orleans. When, in 1850, a son was bom to
Gaston, the little Duke de Valois, who did not live, she.
fretted at an event which threatened to strengthen and per
petuate a house for which she had no affection, and in a
letter which has remained inedited up to the present day,
she allows the thoughts that had insinuated themselves mto
her heart to appear. " I think," she writes to Lenet on the
22nd August, 1650, "that the news of the birth of M.
d'Orleans' son will no more rejoice my sister-in-law than it
has dehghted me. It is to my nephew that we must offer
our condolence." In 1651, that ambition was carried to its
highest pitch. Madame de Longueville experienced the
natural intoxication that the power and prosperity of her
house was calculated to give her ; and when we think of what
perils she had just surmounted, by what homage she was
surrounded on all sides, that she was then thirty-two, that
she was in aU the splendour of her beauty, and also under
all the strength of her passions, we might weU be disposed
to pardon her that fugitive intoxication, if it had not like
wise drawn down disastrous consequences upon herself, upon
Conde, and upon her country.
And here again occurs the question we have just raised.
Was it Madame de LongueviUe who caused the rupture of
the projected marriage between the Prince de Conti and
Mademoiselle de Chevreuse ? If hers was the chief fault,
we look upon it with regret, that in the eye of posterity she

Political Women. 249
should bear, the blame of such a fault. If she only yielded
to the advice of La Rochefoucauld, we have the more excuse
for her, and assert that the fault comes home to him. As
we have seen, that affair is still involved in much obscurity,
and since De Retz himself hesitates, we ought to feel.
well justified to hesitate in our turn. But it must be con
fessed, the suspicions of the Frondeurs and the accusations
of the Queen's friends have siich great weight that it is
scarcely possible to avoid attributing to Madame de Longue
ville a sufficiently large share in the deplorable rupture
whence so many evils sprang. Her complaisant biographer,
Villefore, is on this point in accordance with Madame de
MotteviUe. Without doubt the marriage of the Prince de
Conti with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse was far from meeting
with universal approval. The prudes of the Hotel de Ram
bouiUet, and Mademoiselle de Scuderi in particular, pro
tested strongly against such an alliance. The old outrage
was remembered which, in 1643, Madame de Montbazon,
aided by Madame de Chevreuse, had dared to perpetrate
upon Madame de Longueville ; the audacious manners of the
mother also, which seemed to have been' inherited by the
daughter ; the equivocal reputation of the latter, the sus
pected and almost public liaison which she carried on with
De Retz. Vain objections ! — which Madame de LonguevUle
could not allege, for she perfectly well knew all that when
at Stenay she had authorised the Palatine to pledge her word
for hers. Other reasons for her conduct must therefore be
sought, and the reasons can only be those which her enemies
have given, and in the foremost place the jealousy of influ
ence, the desire of retaining over her younger brother, the
Prince de Conti, an empire that Charlotte de Lorraine would,
infalHbly, have deprived her.

250 Political Women.
That irreparable error, in bringing about the perilous
position in which Conde speedily found Mmself, necessarUy
led Madame de LonguevUle to the commission of another
error, in some sort compulsory, and which was the comple
ment of the first ; it is certain that more than anyone else
she incited her brother to take the resolution he ultimately
determined upon adopting. La Rochefoucauld says so, and
all contemporary writers repeat the same. We wiU merely
make this essential remark : Madame de Longueville had at
first very readily entered into the reconciliatory plans of
Cond^ and La Rochefoucauld, and into their negotiations
with the Court ; it was only when those designs had failed,
when towards the month of June negotiation had given
place to violence, when she saw her brother surrounded by
assassins, liable at any moment to fall under the blows of
Hocquincourt, or to be flung again into the dungeons of
Vincennes, it was then that trembling with fear and indigna
tion, and iU as she was in health, she rushed to Saint-Maur ;
and that, finding there the flower of the aristocracy and the
army assembled, she felt her warlike ardour of 1649 and
1650 rekindle. She thought that nothing could resist on
the field of battle the victor of Rocroy and Lens, seconded
by Turenne, who at Stenay had shown such a lively and
tender attachment for her, and the sentiment of which she
had never ceased to treat with all the exquisite tact of which
she was capable. She had also great confidence in Spain,
which was at her feet, and lavished upon her every kind of
deference. She urged, therefore, Conde to fling further per
fidious and useless negotiations to the winds, and to appeal
to the fortune of arms.
But to these different motives, the force of which Madame
de LongueviUe summed up the value with the authority of

Political Women. 251
her inteUigence and experience, was joined another still
more potent over her heart, and which had been the original
mainspring of her resolutions and conduct. La Rochefou
cauld alone has no right to impute it to her as a crime. For
ourselves, we do not hesitate to make it known upon the
evidence of irrefragable testimony ; for we are not compos
ing a panegyric of Madame de Longueville, but narrating
certain passages of her life, in which that of the seventeenth
century, with its grandeurs and its miseries, is so completely
identified ; and if we feel a sincere admiration for the sister
of the great Conde, that admfration does not close our eyes
to her errors. It is not unseemly to admire a heroine
whose lofty qualities are mingled with weaknesses which
remind us of her sex. It is, moreover, the first duty of
history, such as we understand it, and desire to have it
understood, not to stop at the surface of events, but to seek
for their causes in the depths of the soul, in human pas
sions and their inevitable consequences.
As has been afready said, Madame de Longueville did not
love her husband. Not only was he greatly her senior, but
there was nothing about him that responded to the ideal
wMch that illustrious disciple of the H6tel de RambouUlet
had formed for herself, and which she pursued in vain
through guilty iUusions, until that which she sought and
found at its very source — no longer in the school of CorneiUe
and of Mademoiselle de Scuderi, but in that of her
Saviour, in the Carmelite convent and at Port Royal. Never
was woman less prone to gallantry by nature than Anne de
Bourbon ; but, as we have just remarked, her heart and her
imagination created in her the necessity of pleasing and of
being beloved ; and it was that want, early cultivated by
poetry, romances, and the theatre, and somewhat later cor-

252 Political Women.
rupted by the example of the society in which she Hved,
which lured her far from the domestic hearth, and hurried
her into the brUHant and adventurous career , amidst wMch
we find her in 1651. Then her greatest fear was to fall
again mto her husband's hands. M. de LongueviUe had
very willingly foUowed his wife in the Fronde ; his own dis
contentments of themselves drove him mto it, as well as his
uncertain and mobile character which led him to embark in
novel enterprises with as much facility as it urged him to
abandon them. In 1649 he had figured as oue of the
generals of Paris, and had raised Normandy against Maza
rin. One year of imprisonment had cooled him, and in
1651, havmg recovered his government of Normandy and
tasted some few months of that peaceful grandeur, he found
it so much to his liking as to be not readUy tempted to re-
embark upon a stormy course of life at the age of nearly
fifty-seven. Reports, only too true, had informed him of
what until then he had only surmised imperfectly — the
declared liaison of his wife with La Rochefoucauld. He
had been greatly irritated at it, and Conde's enemies, with
De Retz at their head, carefully fostered his ill humour, and
his daughter, Marie d'Orleans, afterwards Duchess de
Nemours, seconded them to the utmost of her power.
She detested her stepmother, whose faults her strong
common-sense led her easily to scan, without her own vulgar
and commonplace mind being capable of comprehending, the
Duchess's great quahties. It was impossible less to resemble
each other. The one adored grandeur even to the romantic
and the chimerical, the other was entfrely positive and
matter-of-fact, and absorbed with her own interest, especiaUy
in those relating to her property. AHenated from the
Fronde through the jealous hatred she bore towards her

Political Women. 253
stepmother, who in turn Hked her almost as littie, and pro
bably also did not take pains enough to manage her. Made
moiselle turned towards the Queen, and strove to gain over
her father to the same party. Therein she succeeded by
degrees. The Duke de Longueville could not overtly
separate himself from Conde, and at first promised him all
he required ; then he shut himself up in Normandy, and
there followed a dubious line of conduct which neither com
promised him with the Court party nor that of Conde. But
he recalled his wife peremptorilj', and sent her a mandate
to rejoin him. That mandate was pressing and threatening,
and it terrified Madame de Longueville. She knew that her
husband had been informed of everything, and that he was
wlioUy given up to the influence of his daughter. She feared
ill-treatment ; she felt certain at least that once in Normandy
she would no more quit it, and that her time would be
passed between an aged, irritated husband, and an overruling
step -daughter, who would applj"- themselves in concert to
retain her in the solitude of a province, and perhaps to make
her expiate in confinement her bygone triumphs. The idea
of the sorrowful life which awaited her in Normandy pro
duced very nearly the same effect upon her as the thought
of a second imprisonment upon the mind of Conde. She
sought for a means of avoiding that which was to her the
worst of all evils ; there was an assured though dangerous
one — war, which would prevent her from repairing to Nor
mandy, under the pretext more or less specious that she
could not abandon her brother. Such was the design she
formed within herself and very soon resolved upon adopting,
and the fresh negotiations which La Rochefoucauld proposed
thwarted her doubly. Should those negotiations prove suc
cessful they would deprive her of the only pretext she had

2 54 Political Women.
for not rejoining her husband in Normandy, and she thought
it strange that it was La Rochefoucauld who would expose
her to that peril. From that moment doubtless angry
explanations took place between them. She perceived that
La Rochefoucauld was wearied of his sacrifices, that he
wished to reconcUe hhnself with the Court, repair his for
tunes, and taste the sweets of peace ; whilst in the eyes of
the superb princess the paramount consideration with him,
for whom she had done so much, ought to have been never
to forsake her, should they both together rush to certain
ruin. But La Rochefoucauld was no longer wound up to a
tone so lofty, worthy of the Great Cyrus and of thefr
chivalrous love of 1648, and the haughty Madame* was
deeply wounded at the discovery. Nevertheless, she was not
insensible to what there was of reasonable in La Rochefou
cauld's advice, and not to incur the entire responsibility of
the part which her brother might take, she consented to
follow her sister-in-law, the Prmcess de Conde, and her
nephew, the Duke d'Enghien, into Berri, one of Conde's
governments : — a journey which moreover had the advan
tage of separating her from her husband. She set out,
therefore, on the 18th of July for Bourges, taking with her
the elder of her two sons, the younger, Charles de Paris,
born in 1649, not being able to bear the fatigue of the jour
ney. M. de Longueville recaUed her from Berri as he had
from the capital, and he insisted on the return of his son in
terms so forcible that she was compelled to comply, so far as
the boy was concerned. Thenceforward, being alone and
exposing only herself, without breaking with M. de Longue
vUle, and by using all her wit to colour her disobedience,
she eluded his orders, remained in Berri, formiog in the
• The name she fieures under in the Ornitrl n-imi.'s.

Political Women. 255
depth of her heart the most ardent desire for war, but calm
m appearance ; sometimes accompanying the Princess de
Conde to Montrond, at others making somewhat lengthened
visits to the Carmelite convent at Bourges. And thus she
awaited the issue of the negotiations, counseUed and carried
on by La Rochefoucauld, which should decide her destiny.
La Rochefoucauld must indeed have very earnestly longed
to bring to a close the Hfe of fatigue and danger which he
had for three years led, to have been able to cherish any
iUusion as to the success of the steps he was about again to
take. Where was the hope of regaining the Fronde which
had just been outrageously deceived, after it had given itself
to the Prince de Conde in his misfortune, and had extricated
him from it ? If La Rochefoucauld thought that the
alliance of the Fronde was necessary, he ought to have set
about it sooner and at the proper time, persuaded Conde
and his sister to keep their word, and sealed the alliance
agreed upon between the Prince de Conti and Mademoiselle
de Chevreuse. He had not done so ; and now that he had
aUowed a treacherous war to spring up between Conde and
the Fronde, by what charm did he think he could suspend
it ? With the Queen also all negotiation was exhausted and
superfluous. An understanding should have been come to
with her when she was so disposed, when Conde was aU-
powerful, when he could either have more readily abased
or exalted the Crown : Tum decuit cum sceptra dabas. But
at the end of August, Conde, embroiled with the Court and
with the Fronde, had nothing left save his sword. That was
sufficient, doubtless, to make everybody tremble, but was
it enough to inspire confidence in anyone ? La Rochefou
cauld obtained, therefore, on all sides to his advances only
very vague responses. The time for negotiation was passed

256 Political Women.
irrevocably, and whilst La Rochefoucauld exhausted himself
in useless efforts, the Queen and the Fronde concluded a
treaty together, with the common design of overwhelming
Conde. This treaty was the work of Mazarin, the masterpiece of
his poHtical skill. It authorised the Frondeurs to speak
against the Cardinal in parliament for some time forward in
order to cover their secret understanding. The hat was
assured to the Coadjutor, high posts and great advantages
to the principal friends of Madame de Chevreuse, the first
rank in the cabinet given to Chateauneuf, and a sohd peace
established between Mazarin and the powerful Duchess,
under the condition that his nephew Mancini, provided for
with the duchy of Nevers or that of Rethelois, should marry
Mademoiselle de Chevreuse. The draft of this projected
treaty fell into the hands of Conde through the bearer of the
paquet in which it was enclosed being in the service of the
Marquis de Noirmoutier, and the Prince caused it to be
printed in order to ventilate and bring to light the alliance
between the Frondeurs, the Queen, and Mazarin. Madame
de MotteviUe, so well informed of everythmg relating to the
¦Queen and the Cardinal, considers that treaty as perfectly
authentic, and she gives the different articles of it, " as the
best means for understanding the changes which were made
by the Queen immediately after the King's majority."
That majority had been declared on the 7th of Septem
ber in a Bed of Justice, with all the customary pomp. As
the first Prince of the blood did not think it possible to be
present at it in safety, during that evening the Queen in her
indignation had whispered these significant words to De
Retz: " Either M. le Prince or I must perish." *
* Retz, tom. ii. p. 291.

CHAPTER V.
COND^, URGED BY HIS SISTER, GOES UNWILLINGLY INTO
REBELLION.
Anne of Austria now seriously prepared to make head
against Conde, and with that intent she rallied round her aU
the forces of the Fronde united with those of the royal army.
In fine, with the firm design of inspiring the Fronde with
perfect confidence, at the same time that the nomination of
France to the Cardinalate had devolved upon the Coadjutor,
the Queen again brought into the cabinet, as a sort of Prime
Minister, the statesman of the party, the friend and instru
ment of Madame de Chevreuse, the aged but ambitious
, Chateauneuf, with the two-fold engagement to serve Mazarin
in secret and to contribute to the utmost of" his power to
destroy Conde. In such arrangeinents, let it be thoroughly
understood, no one was acting with good faith : De Retz and
Chateauneuf in nowise proposed to re-establish Mazarin ;
Chateauneuf did not dream of. making another man's bed,
but, once having attained power, he intended to keep it for
himself, and Mazarin was firmly resolved to dismiss ChS,-
teauneuf as soon as he could. But if these crafty politicians
were ready to betray one another in everything else, there
was one point on which they were sincerely united — the
destruction of Conde. At that they laboured in concert, or
rather vied with each other. Queen Anne manifested therein
a fervour, a constancy, a marvellous skUl, and succeeded in

258 Political Women,
carrying off from Conde the chief supports of his great
strength. He saw that war was inevitable, and yet, says
Sismondi, he only yielded to it with repugnance. " You
will have it so," said Conde at last ; " but understand that if
I do draw the sword, I shaU be the last to return it to the
scabbard." It was the women especially who hurried their
admirers into the melee.
Considering the nomination of the New Cabinet, with
Chateauneuf at its head, as a veritable declaration of war,
Conde went to ChantiUy, and, it is said, had a very narrow
escape from falHng into an ambuscade which the Court had
prepared for him at Pontoise.
He remained for some few days at Chantilly, pensive and
agitated in presence of the great resolution he was on the
eve of taking. The mediation of the Duke d'Orleans, the
only one he could accept, offered no security, the Duke
instead of governing the Coadjutor and Madame de Chev
reuse, was then governed by them. His individual inclma-
tion was to come to an understanding with the Queen and
even with Mazarin, as he had very clearly shown. He had
continually returned to it ; but after so many lying words
and odious plots, the execution of which alone was wanting,
he thought he would be in a better position to treat solidly
with the Court at the head of a powerful and victorious
army, than in the midst of wretched intrigues, unworthy of
his character, in which he momentarily staked Ms honour
and his life. He never permitted the idea of raising Mmselt
above royalty to enter into his mind ; he merely thought
that to obtain better conditions from it it was necessary
to render himself imposing to it, and to make himself feared.
That is what was then passmg in his mind. CivU war
inspired him with horror, and we may learn from La Roche-

Political Women. 259
foucauld,* who was then in his most intimate confidence,
that he long weighed " the consequences of so grave a deter
mination." Let us be chary, therefore, of accusing Conde
of levity ; let us recognise that insensibly his position had
become such that he could neither remain in it nor quit it,
in one way or another, save with equal danger.
Among the different motives which rendered Conde
averse to civil war, the passion that he had just begun to
feel for the Duchess de ChatiUon must not be forgotten.
We shall return a little further on to this episode in Conde's
life. It is sufficient to remark here that it was grievous to
him to quit the lovely Duchess, who then was residing very
close to Chantilly, in the charming chateau of Merlon or
Mello, near Pontoise, the enjoyment of which had been
granted to her for life by the old Princess de Conde, Char
lotte Marguerite de Montmorency, who expired in her arms
at Ch4tillon-sur-Loing, in December, 1650 — a gracious
grant, which the Prmce, her son, had hastened to ratify
with a somewhat interested generosity. Madame de Cha
tiUon had her reasons of more than one kmd for being
opposed to the war, and in the intimate counsels of the
Prince she urged him to an understanding with the Court.
In that she made common cause with La Rochefoucauld,
and was in open quarrel with Madame de LonguevUle.
Sensible of Conde's passion without sharmg it, she managed
that lofty lover with infinite tact, at the same time that she
was deeply enamoured of the young, handsome, and brave
Duke Charles Amadeus of Savoy, Nemours,! who from his
* La Rochefoucauld, p. 76.
+ Charles Amadeus had succeeded to the title and rank of his elder
brother, the Duke de Nemours, one of Conde's intimate friends in youth,
who had been kiUed early in action, even before Rocroy. Conde had trans
ferred to Charles Amadeus the afEeotion which he bore his brother. The

26o Political Women.
youth and adventurous instincts would have longed for war,
and whom she alone, seconded by La Rochefoucauld, re
tained in the party of peace.
Everything, however, tended to precipitate Conde towards
the fatal resolution. Prudence did not permit him to remain
any longer at ChantiUy,* and it behoved him to place
himself beyond the risk of a coup-de-mhin by withdrawing
to his government of Berri, whither he had already sent his
son, his wife, and his sister. It was, it is true, the road to'
Guienne, but he might stop there. AU the population was
devoted to him, and the tower of Bourges and the strong
fortalice of Montrond offered him a safe asylum.
Conde, even after reaching Berri, still hesitated, not
wishing to take any step before again conferring with his
sister, who was then at Montrond with the Princess. There
he held a final council, a supreme deliberation, at which
Madame de Longueville, Conti, and La Rochefoucauld were
present. More than one grave motive urged him to war :
the well-founded dread of assassination or of a fresh incar
ceration, the ardent hatred of his enemies, of the Queen
and the Fronde, the power of Chateauneuf which certainly
had not been given him in vain, the inutUity of negotiations
with people who seemed decidedly to have taken thefr choice,
the necessity of avoiding the fate of Henri de Guise, the
consciousness of his strength so soon as his foot should
young duke had married the beautiful Madlle. de Venddme, daughter of
Duke Csesar, and sister of the Dukes de Mercoeur and Beaufort, and by her
he had two daughters who became, one the Queen of Portugal, the other
the Duchess of Savoy. At the dea,th of the Duke de Nemours in 1652 his
title passed to his younger brother Henri de Nemours, Archbishop of
Rheims, who then quitted the church, aud espoused MadUe. de LongueviUe
the authoress of the Memoirs.
* La Rochefoucauld, p. 96.

Political Women. 261
tread the field of battle, the promises seemingly so sm'e of
the Bouillons and many others. At the same time, his good
sense, his loyalty, the scarcely stifled instincts of duty, and
his innate aversion for anything which resembled anarchy,
restrained him ; and in that prolonged and dubious struggle
between conflicting feelings, there were others which hurried
him onward. Madame de Longueville, the Prince de Conti,
La Rochefoucauld also urged him to declare himself agamst
the Court, and Madame de LongueviUe with more vivacity
than anyone else.* Conde still resisted, explaining to them
all the strength of royalty, the ascendancy of the King's
name, the weakness and treachery of factions, the bad
faith of Spain. Then concluding by yielding, he addressed
them in these memorable words: "You commit me to a
strange line of action, of which you will tfre sooner than I,
and in which you wUl abandon me." He spoke truly as
regarded Conti, and perhaps also La Rochefoucauld; but
it remains to be seen whether Madame de Longueville, after
having helped to drive her heroic brother into civil war,
did not foUow him with an inviolable constancy, whether she
did not share, even to extremity, the dangers and adversities
of the Prince, and whether, during his long exUe, she re
appeared for a single moment at Court or in those salons of
the Louvre and the Palais Royal, which had witnessed her
early successes, and in which her wit and beauty stUl
promised her fresh triumphs. * Mad. de MotteviUe.

CHAPTER VI.
MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE COQUETS WITH THE DUKE
DE NEMOURS.
His determination to unsheath the sword once taken,
Cond^ put his plans into execution without throwing one
glance behind him. Having collected together m Berri his
family and chief supporters, he distributed amongst them
the several parts they had to play in their common enter
prise. After this, accompanied by La Rochefoucauld, he
went to take possession of his new government of Guienne,
and there raise the standard of insurrection, leaving in Berri
his wife and son, his sister, the Prince de Conti, the Duke
de Nemours, with the President Viole and others whom he
nominated to important functions. He had placed his
brother at the head of affairs there, and given the military
command to the Duke de Nemours. But the result of these
arrangements was disappointing to him. The Duke de
Nemours undoubtedly possessed the most brilliant courage,
but he had neither the talents nor the steadiness of a general.
Still absorbed with his passion for Madame de ChatiUon,
who, as has been said, had long retained him in the party of
peace, he found in Berri a counter-attraction in Madame de
LongueviUe who drew him towards that of war ; and it
would seem that he occupied himself more with paying
court to the lovely lady than of raising and arming soldiers
and making Berri a focus of resistance, both political and

Political Women. 263
military ; for very speedily the Prince de Conti and he were
reduced to defend themselves in Bourges instead of being
able to operate in the open and make any advance. The
new Minister Chateauneuf showed himself worthy of the
•confidence of Madame de Chevreuse and the Fronde. He
made the Queen understand that it was necessary to combat
the revolt foot to foot from its very first step, and he persuaded
her to march herself with the young Kiug into Berri at the
head of a strong army. He nobly inaugurated the new
ministry by that measure, which had two objects : the one
dfrect and immediate, to strangle the insurrection at its
birth ; the other stiU more important, to set royalty at liberty
far from Duke Gaston and the Parliament. The city of
Dourges, which had shown so much enthusiasm on Cond6's
arrival, opened its gates to the Kfrig and Chateauneuf. The
strong tower which defended the city, offering no resistance,
was taken without a blow being struck, and instantly de
molished. The Princess de Conde, her son, Madame de
LongueviUe, Conti, and Nemours were forced to take refuge
hastily in the citadel of Montrond. On learnmg that
Palluan was advancing on that fortress, Conti and Nemours
not wishing that the precious pledges confided to their
¦charge should incur any risk, left the Marquis de Persan in
Montrond, and with what remained to them of thefr faithful
troops escorted the Princess, her son, and Madame de
LongueviUe as far as Guienne, which they reached by the
end of the month of October.
It was during that rapid journey and their very brief
sojourn in Berri that certain obscure relations, it would
appear, were formed between the Duke de Nemours and
Madame de LongueviUe, the report of which reaching
Bordeaux, exaggerated probably by interested and malevo-

264 Political Women.
lent underUngs, wounded La Rochefoucauld and drove him
to a violent rupture. A loyal and confiding explanation
might have sufficed to disperse a cloud, such as at times
will obscure the most settled friendships. La Rochefoucauld
brewed a storm out of it which, thanks to Ms Memoirs, has
sent its echoes down to posterity. His separation from
Madame de Longueville was marked by an eagerness which
excites the suspicion that he had longed for it.* He ought
at least to have stopped there, but hurried away by an im
placable resentment, he accused her, or caused her to be
accused by Conde, of having wished to betray his interests
to serve those of the Duke de Nemours, giving her even to
understand that " if a like prepossession took her for another,
she was capable of gomg to the same extremities if that
person desired it."+ The accusation is yet more absurd
than odious. The Duke de Nemours was not the least in
the world a party cMef ; he was a friend of Cond^ whose
fidelity could only be shaken through his love for Madame
de ChatiUon. To detach him from Madame de ChatUlon
was therefore to give him wholly to Conde. Moreover,
Madame de Chitillon, like La Rochefoucauld, was for peace,
she had won over the Duke de Nemours to it, and both
together urged Conde thereto. To carry off the Duke de
Nemours from such conspiracy and to seduce him to the war
party, was to serve the interests of Conde like as his sister
intended. Thus the principal and the dominant motive of
Madame de Longueville's conduct was just the opposite of
that which La Rochefoucauld imputed to her. Let us add
further that she had always had a rivalry of beauty with
* " La Rochefoucauld, depuis assez longtemps ayant euvie de la quitter,
prit cette occasion avec joie." — Mad. de Nemours, p. 150.
t La Rochefoucauld, edition 1662, p. 198.

Political Women. 265
Madame de ChatiUon, and that her vanity was not sorry to
humiliate a rival whom she did not tolerate by depriving her
for a few days of a lover of whose attachment the latter
fancied herself perfectly secure. Love and the senses had
nothing to do with it in this matter. The gratification
of the senses, it has already been remarked, did not ensnare
her ; she was proof against their surprises. Previously the
Duke de Nemours had addressed his ardent homage to her,
but aU the attractions of his handsome person and his lofty
bearing had made no impression upon her, and she only
bestowed a thought on the amiable Duke when she had
some interest to forward by reviving such conquest. And
this is not an opinion hazarded at a venture ; it is furnished
us by a person thoroughly well informed, and who had no
affection for Madame de Longueville ; the testimony there
fore is the more valuable : " M. de Nemours * previously
had not much pleased her, and notwithstanding the attach
ment he appeared to entertain for her, as weU as all the
good qualities and grand airs of which he could boast, she
had found nothing charming about him save the pleasure he
showed himself desfrous of giving her by abandoning
Madame de ChatiUon for herself, and that which she had of
depriving a woman whom she did not like of a friend of so
much consequence." Now how far had this liaison of a
few days gone ? Bussy is the only contemporary who offers
any reply to this question in the cynical light of his His
toire amoreuse des Gaules. But who would accept that
satire Hterally ? It proves only one thing, the unfortunate
notoriety which the imprudence of Madame de LongueviUe
derived from the Memoirs of La Rochefoucauld published
* Mad. de Nemours, pp. 149, 150.

266 Political Women.
in 1062. Before those Memoirs saw the Hght, not a word
is anywhere to be found on a point as obscure as it is
delicate. After, Bussy was dehghted to repeat La Roche
foucauld, and Madame de LongueviUe has thus fallen into
the scandalous chronicle.
Let us abstam from defending her; although even we
should be convinced that she knew where to stop in that
dangerous game of coquetry, she is not the less culpable in
our eyes both towards La Rochefoucauld and herself, and
we do not hesitate to say that she went so far as to deserve
the calumny. Doubtless she was justly hurt by the incerti
tude of La Rochefoucauld, who, after having plunged her
into civil war in 1648 with no other motive than that of Ms
own interest, would have made her abandon it in 1651
through the same motive stiU ; which at one moment im
pelled her towards the Fronde, at another brought her back
to the Court, at the wiU of his fickle hopes, and linked her
with Madame de ChatiUon for the purpose of engaging
. Conde in negotiations the success of which involved thefr
separation and procured her a prison in Normandy. Yes —
she had grave cause of complaint against La Rochefoucauld.
She might have quitted him, it is true, but not for another.
She had only one means of covering, of almost condoning
the single error of her life, wMch was to maintain faithful
to it, or to renounce it for virtue and Heaven. And it is
just that which Madame de Longueville appears to have
done, if that sad and rapid episode had remained unknown ;
but there is no favourable shade for those personages who
appear in the glaring frout of the stage of this world ; their
slightest actions do not escape the formidable light of
history : the weakness of a moment is recorded as an irre
deemable error against them. That of Madame de Longue-

Political Women. 267
ville, fugitive as it may have been, dubious even as it was,
sufficed to tarnish a fidelity until then victorious over so
many trials ; it needed to be atoned for by the sincere
conversion which was speedily about to follow it, and by five-
and-twenty years of the severest penitence ; and still further
it foi-ces us to place Anne de Bourbon, in the record of great
sentiments and exalted loves, above Heloise and Mademoi
selle de la VaUiere.
At any rate the assurance is consoling that this error,
which we have attempted neither to conceal nor extenuate,
is the single one perceptible in the private life of Madame
de Longueville. But let us turn aside from these wretched
instances of feminine fragility in one of the loftiest minds,
in order to follow Conde and the march of events in
Guienne. We will first, however, by a brief retrospect, endeavour to
render the shifting phases of the two Fronde wars more
capable of being easily followed.
Dating from the arrest of Broussel, nothing could exceed
the rapidity of events ; the wheel of fortune had turned with
such terrific mobility for those of her favourites who sought
to attach themselves to it. The revolt had, in fact, broken
out on the 26th of August, 1648; in January, 1649, the
Court withdrew to Saint Germain, at the risk of never
re-entering Paris; in April, the sword of Conde imposed
the treaty of Saint Germain, and the King returned in
October. Mazarin shortly afterwards believed himself
strong enough to arrest, in January, 1650, Conde, Conti,
and Longueville. A year after that bold coup d'etat
he was himself obhged to flee (February, 1651) from his
enemies, and quit France. At the end of eight months,
Mazarin returned with an army to the aid of royalty ; but

268 Political Women.
it required two years of negotiations, intrigues, and patient
waiting, it needed the errors which the indecision of the
Duke d'Orleans brought about, the rash violence of Conde,
urged onwards by his sister, it required, indeed, the entire
ruin of France ere the Cardinal could, after having led the
young King by the hand to the very gates of his capital,
resume that place in the Louvre which he had sagaciously
abandoned. It is difficult to narrate occurrences in their proper order
during this period : intrigues, broken promises, pledges
given to two different parties at the same time, such were
the smallest misdeeds of aU these princes and prelates. As
one step further in wrong-doing, they entered into negotia
tions with the foreigner, and invited armies across the
frontier which devastated the provinces. And through what
motives ? Gondy wished to avenge his former mistress,
whom Conti had rejected, and whom an agent of Conde,
Maillard the shoemaker, had publicly insulted. Conde's
pretensions were nothing less than dragging at his heels a
squad of governors of towns and provinces who, at his sum
mons, would be ever ready to raise the standard of revolt
and to impose the will of their leader upon the head of the
state, whether Minister, Queen, or King. Orleans would
not yield one jot to his young cousin of the blood-royal,
Conde ; Madame de Longueville feared the severity of an
outraged husband. The civil war, in forcing her to flee
from one end of France to the other, or abroad, could alone
delay her return to Normandy, her re-establishment beneath
the conjugal roof; towards which she had conceived such an
aversion. Conde accused Gondy in the Parliament chamber of being
author of a. factum condemning severely the Prince's conduct.

Political Women. 269
La Rouchefoucauld, getting Gondy between two doors, trea
cherously seized, and was about to strangle him, had not the
son of the first President, M. de Champlatreux, come to the
rescue, at the very moment that one of the bullies in Conde's
pay had drawn his dagger to despatch Mm.
Two days afterwards (17th of September) the King had
attained his thirteenth year, and one day beyond ; and by
the ordonnance of Charles V. became of age and capable of
governing for himself.
A change of ministrj' — Chateauneuf being recalled to
head the Council and Mol^ to the Seals — deprived Conde of
all hope of imposing the conditions of a reconciliation ; there-
fore, as has been said, at a Council held at Chantilly with his
chief adherents, Conti, and the Dukes de Nemours and La
Rouchefoucauld, he determined to set out for Berri. The
impartial student who examines the conduct of the Prince
de Conde is at this juncture compelled to draw an indict
ment against him, under pain of belying his conscience and
the truth ; he must concede that Conde rashly engaged in
civil war, and exerted himself to drag France into it, solely
because he could not endure any authority above his own.
He was desirous of being first in the State, of disposing at
will among his creatures of honours, dignities, strongholds,
and governments. On such conditions, he would have con
sented to let Mazarin, Orleans, De Retz, or any other,
Severn the realm, for the administration of which he felt
himself that he had neither the sHghtest inclination nor the
smallest capacity (October, 1651).
The Fronde is reputed, not without reason, to have been
one of the most interesting as weU as diverting periods in
French history ; that in which the volatile and frivolous
vivacity of the national character shone with frresistible

270 Political Women.
comicality. How striking was the contrast between it in its
main features and the great Civil War waged at the same
time in our own country ! Yet the Fronde had its serious
— terrible aspect, too, in the wide-spread misery it entailed
upon France, as may be seen from the valuable statistical
researches of M. Feillet. That writer cites the following
passage from the record of an eye-witness of what he de
scribes:* — " No tongue can tell, no pen describe, no ear may
hear that which we have seen (at Rheims, Chalons, Rethel,
&c.). Famine and death on all sides, and bodies unburied.
Those remaining alive pick up from the fields the rotten oat-
straw, and make bread of it by mixing it with mud. Their
faces are quite black ; they have no longer the semblance of
human beings, but that of phantoms. . . . War has
placed every one on an equahty; nobility Hes upon straw,
dares not beg, and dies. . . . Even lizards are eaten,
and dogs which have been dead perhaps some eight days.
. . . Moreover, in Picardy, a band of five hundred chil
dren, orphans, and under seven years of age, was met with.
In Lorraine, the famished nuns quitted their convents and
became mendicants : the poor creatures gave themselves up
to be dishonoured for the sake of a morsel of bread. No
pity, no remorse. An execrable and sanguinary war upon
the weak. In the heart of the city of Rheims, a beautiful
gfrl was chased from street to street for ten days by the Hcen
tious soldiery ; and as they could not catch her, they kiUed
her by shooting her down. In the vicinity of Angers, Alais,
and Condom, upon all the highways of Lorraine, women and
children were indiscriminately outraged, and left to die
drenched in their blood." * La Mia&re dans la Fronde.

Political Women. 271
What could be more diverting ? The Duke de Lorraine —
that restless knight-errant who preferred amusing himself
with civil war to the quiet enjoyment of his throne — amused
the noble ladies of his acquaintance with a recital of these
pleasant incidents ; his gallant army, he said, was quite a
providence for the old women. . . .
After further pursuing his appaUing statistics of the
misery and horrors inflicted by the Fronde at a later date,
M. Feillet remarks: — "And yet, notwithstanding aU this
suffering, which we have only cursorily sketched, at Court
nothing else was thought of but fetes and diversions ; for
the young and brilhant bevy of Mazarin's nieces had come
to increase the circle of beauties whom the youthful King
and his gay courtiers vied with each other in paying homage
to, and entertaining. The warm attachment of Louis for
more than one of his Minister's nieces, and especially Marie
de Mancini, is well known. In imitation of their Sovereign,
the youthful nobility and a large portion of the city gallants
plunged into unrestrained dissipation — intervals of licen
tiousness ever succeeding like periods of turbulence and
anarchy. Such heartless indifference to the sufferings of
the people on the part of the King and his Court evoked
the following couplet, which was put into the mouth of Louis
by a contemporary pamphleteer : —
" Si la France est en deuil, qu'eUe pleure et soupire ;
Pour moi, je veux chasser, galantiser et rire."
But we are somewhat anticipating events, and therefore
return to them iu the order of time.

BOOK Y.

VOL. I.

CHAPTER I.
COND^'s ADVENTUROUS EXPEDITION.
CoNDE passed several months in Guienne, occupied with
strengthening and extending the insurrection at the head of
which he had placed himself, and in repulsing as far as pos
sible in the south the royal army, commanded by the skilful
and experienced Count d'Harcourt. Amidst very varied
successes, he learned from different quarters the bad turn
wMch the Fronde's affairs was taking in the heart of the
kingdom, the intrigues of De Retz who held the key of Paris,
and the deplorable state of the army on the banks of the
Loire. On receiving these tidings at Bordeaux in the month of
March, 1652, Cond^ saw clearly the double danger which
menaced him, and immediately faced it in Ms wonted
manner. Instead of awaiting events which were on the eve
of taking place at a distance, he determined on anticipating
them, and formed an extraordinary resolution, of a character
very much resembling his great military manoeuvres, which
at first sight appears extravagant, but which the gravest
reason justifies, and the temerity of which even is only
another form of high prudence. He formed the design of
slipping out of Bordeaux, traversing the lines of Count
d'Harcourt, to get over in the best way he might the hundred
and fifty leagues which separated him from the Loire and
T 2

276 Political Women.
Paris, to appear there suddenly, and to place himself at the
head of Ms affairs.
He left behind him in Guienne a force sufficiently impos
ing to aUow of it there awaiting in security the successful
results he was about to seek. In possessmg himself of Agen,
Bergerac, Perigueux, Cognac, and even for a moment of
Saintes, and by pushing his conquests into Haute Guienne,
on the side of Mont-de-Marsan, Dax, and Pan, he had made
Bordeaux the capital of a smaU but rich and populous Mng
dom, surrounded on aU sides by a belt of strongholds, com
municating with the sea by the Gironde, and admu'ably
placed for attack or defence. This kingdom, backed as it
was by Spain, was capable of receiving continuous succour
from Santander and St. Sebastian, and a Spanish fleet could
approach by the Tour de Corduan, bringing subsidies and
troops, whUst Count de Dognon's fleet, saUmg from the
islands of Re and Ol^ron to jom it, might easily surround
and even beat the royal fleet, then forming at Brouage under
the Duke de Vend6me. In 1650, during the imprisonment
of the princes, Bordeaux had defended itself for more than
six months against a considerable army with the young king
at its head, and which was directed by Mazarin in person.
Conde, and all his family were adored there, by reason of the
hatred felt for his predecessor, the imperious Duke d'Epernon.
The Bordeaux parliament was also equally involved in the
Fronde as was that of Paris, with wMch it had aUied itself
by a solemn declaration. Under the parhament was a brave
and ardent people, which furnished a numerous mihtia.
Conde had named the Prince de Conti his lieutenant-
general — a prince of the blood giving lustre to authority,
dominating all rivalries, an appointment calculated to render
obedience more easy. He was aware of Conti's levity, but

Political Women. 277
he knew also that he was wanting neither in inteUigence nor
courage. He beheved in the ascendency which Madame de
Longueville had always exercised over her brother, and he
hoped she would guide him stUl. He had confidence m that
high-souled sister whom formerly he had so warmly loved ;
and although mtrigues and a sinister influence, to which we
shall shortly further allude, had diminished the high admi
ration he had had for her, and to which he later returned,
he reckoned upon her inteUigence, upon her pride, upon that
lofty courage of which she had given so many proofs at
Stenay. At his sister's side he left his wife Claire Clemence
de Maille-Breze, who had behaved so admirably m the first
Guienne war. He left her enceinte with thefr second ehUd,
and with her he gave to Bordeaux and placed as it were in
pledge in its hands, to hold the place of himself, the Duke
d'Enghien, the hope and stay of his house, the pecuHar
object of his tenderness. So that there, he left behmd him
a government, he thought, which would look well aUke in the
eyes of France and of Europe.
In reahty, to what did Conde aspfre ? To constitute him
self the head of the nobility against the Court ? The nobles
thought it harsh to be so treated. To commence another
Fronde ? To do that, it was necessary to have the parlia
ments under his thumb ; and he had already been compelled
to threaten the deputies of that of Aix with the bastinado.
Did he look forward to an independent principality, as he
later on desired to obtain from the Spaniards ? Or rather
did he think of snatching from the Duke d'Orleans the lieu
tenant-generalship ? It is difficult to divine what may have
passed through his capricious braia. He was constant in
nothing. It was seen later stiU that he would very willingly
have changed his religion, offering himself on the one side

278 Political Women.
to Cromwell, and to become a protestant in order to have an
Enghsh army ; on the other to the Pope, if he would help to
get him elected King of Poland.
The income of the Condes in 1609 amounted to ten
thousand livres, and in 1649, besides the Montmorency
estates, they held an enormous portion of France. First, by
the Great Conde, they had Burgundy, Berri, the marshes of
Lorraine, a dominant fortress in the Bourbonnais that held
in check four provinces. Secondly, by Conti, Champagne.
Thfrdly, by Longueville, thefr sister's husband, Normandy.
Fourthly, the Admiralty, and Saumur, the chief fortress of
Anjou, were in the hands of the brother of Condi's wife ;
they fell in through his death, and were sold again by them
as though they were a family bfrthright. Later stiU, they
negotiated for the possession of Guienne and Provence.
Amidst the cares of adrainistration and of war, Conde
carried on an assiduous correspondence with Chavigny, then
faUen mto disgrace, who kept Mm weU informed of the state
of affafrs at Court and in Paris. They had assumed quite a
new face during the last few months. Mazarin in his exile
had not learned without inquietude the ever-mcreasing suc
cess of Chateauneuf. He saw him active'and determined, ac
cepted as a chief by all colleagues, skilfuUy seconded by the
keeper of the seals, M0I6, and by Marshal de VUleroi, the
king's governor, an ambiguous personage, very ambitious at
bottom, and jealous of the Cardiaal's favour with the Queen.
Chateauneuf, it is true, had only entered the Cabinet under
the agreement of shortly recaUing Mazarin ; but he inces
santly asked for fresh delay ; he tried to make the Queen
comprehend the danger of a precipitate return, — ^the Fronde
ready to arouse itself anew, the Duke d'Orleans and the
Coadjutor resuming their ancient opposition, and royalty

Political Women. 279
finding itself once more without any solid support. Anne
of Austria gradually acquiescing in these wise counsels,
Mazarin, who at first had with difficulty restrained the im
patient disposition of the Queen, finding her grown less
eager, became alarmed : he saw that he was lost should
he aUow such a rival to establish himself.* Therefore,
passing suddenly from an apparent resignation to an ex
traordinary audacity, he had, towards the end of November
1651, broken Ms ban, quitted his retreat at Dinan, and
and had resolutely entered France with a small force col
lected together by his two faithful friends, the Marquis
de Navailles and the Count de BrogUe, and led by Marshal
Hocquincourt. He had by main strength surmounted every
obstacle, braved the decrees and the deputies of the par
liament, reached Poitiers where the Queen and young
Louis the Fourteenth had eagerly welcomed him; and
there, in January 1652, after speedily ridding ' himself of
Chateauneuf, too proud and too able to be resigned to
hold the second rank, he had again taken in hand the
reins of government.
This bold conduct, which probably saved Mazarin, came
also to the succour of Cond4. The second and irreparable
disgrace of the minister of the old Fronde had exaspe
rated him as weU as had the umbrage given him by the
Duke d'Orleans. He thought himself tricked by the Queen,
and had loudly complained of it. Conde's friends had not
failed to seize that occasion to reconcile him with the
Duke, and to negotiate a fresh aUiance between them;
and as previously the Fronde and the Queen had been
united against Conde, so also at the end of January
* Mad. de MotteviUe, tom. v. p. 96.

28o Political Women.
1652, that Prince and the Fronde in almost its entirety were
united against Mazarin.
Madame de Chevreuse alone, with her most intimate
friends, remained faithful to her hatred and the Queen, dread
ing far less Mazarm than Conde, and choosing between them
both for once and for all with her well-known firmness and
resolution. De Retz trimmed, followed the Duke d'Orleans,
using tact with the Queen, so that he might not lose the hat,
and without engaging himself personally with Conde.
If Burnet is to be believed, it was at this conjunction that
Conde made an offer to CromweU to turn Huguenot, and
embrace the faith of his ancestors, in order to secure the aid
of the Enghsh Puritans.
However that might be, it was not iUusory to think that
with such a government and the continual assistance of
Spain, Bordeaux might hold out for at least a year, and give
Cond^ time to strike some decisive blows. The resolution
that he took was therefore as rational as it was great. It
would have been a sovereign imprudence to remain in
Guienne merely to engage Harcourt in a series of trifling
skirmishes, and after much time and trouble take a few
little paltry towns, when in the heart of the kingdom a
treason or a defeat might irreparably involve the loss of
everything, and condemn Bordeaux to share the common
fate, after a more or less prolonged existence. Taking one
thing with another, Guienne was doubtiess a considerable
accessory ; but the grand struggle was not to be made there ;
it was at Paris and upon the banks of the Loire that the
destiny of the Fronde and that of Conde too must be de
cided ; it was thither, therefore, that he must hasten. Every
day brought him tidings that jealousies, divisions, quarrels
were increasing in the army, and he trembled to receive.

Political Women. 281
some morning, news that Turenne and Hocquincourt had
beaten Nemours and Beaufort, and were marching on Paris.
Desirous of preventing at any price a disaster so frreparable,
he resolved to rush to the point where the danger was
supreme, where his unexpected presence would strike terror
into the souls of his enemies, revive the courage of his par
tisans and turn fortune to his side. When CsBsar, on arriving
in Greece, learned that the fleet which was foUowing him
with his army on board, had been dispersed and destroyed
by that of Pompey, he flung himself alone into a fisherman's
bark under cover of night to cross the sea into Asia to seek
for the legions of Antony, and return with them to. gam the
battle of Pharsalia. When Napoleon learned in Egypt the
state of France, from the shameful domgs of the Directory,
the agitation of parties, and that already more than one
general was meditating another 18th of Brumaire, he did not
hesitate, and however rash it might appear to attempt to
pass through the English fleet in a smaU craft, at the risk
of being taken, or sent to the bottom, he dared every perU,
and by dint of address and audacity succeeded in gain
ing the shores of France. Conde did the same, and at the
end of March 1652, he undertook to make his way from the
banks of the Gfr'onde to the banks of the Loire, without
other escort than that of a small number of intrepid friends,
and sustained solely by the vivid consciousness of the neces
sity of that bold step, his famUiarity with and secret Hking
for danger, his incomparable presence of mind and his cus
tomary gaiety.
On Palm Sunday, 1652, Conde set forth upon his adven
turous expedition. He was accompanied by six persons. La
Rochefoucauld and his j'outhful son, the Prince de MarciUac,
the Count de Guitaut, the Count de Chavagnac, a valet

282 Political Women.
named Rochefort, and the indefatigable GourviUe, under
whose dfrections all the arrangements of the journey seem to
have been contrived. The whole party were disguised as
common troopers, and each took a false name, even amongst
themselves. For some time they followed the Bordeaux
road, and usmg many precautions proceeded untU they
reached Cahusac, where they encountered some troops be
longing to La Rochefoucauld ; but being anxious almost as
much to avoid thefr own partizans as the enemy, Conde and
his companions hid themselves in a barn, while GourviUe
went out to forage. He suceeded m procuring some scanty
fare ; and they [rode on tiU some hours had passed after
nightfaU, when they reached a Httle wayside inn, where
Conde volunteered to cook an omelet for the whole party.
The hand, however, which could wield a truncheon with such
effect, proved somewhat too violent for the frying-pan, and
in the attempt to turn the omelet, he threw the whole hissing
mass into the fire.
The little band havmg reached a certain spot, qmtted the
main road, and began to traverse the enemy's lines. For
eight days they encountered many perilous mcidents and
underwent incredible fatigue, riding throughout the same
horses, never stopping more than two hours to eat or sleep,
.avoiding towns and crossing rivers as t'ney best could ;
tMeadiag at first the gorges of the Auvergne mountains, then
descending by the Bee d'AlHer, and maMng thefr' way to the
Lofre. The memofrs of La Rochefoucauld and GourvUle
must be consulted for the details of that extraordinary
journey, and aU the dangers it presented. No less than ten
times did they escape being taken and slain. Their wearied
horses at last could carry them no longer. La Rochefou
cauld was tormented by the gout, and his son was so

Political Women. 283
worn out with fatigue that he fell asleep as he went.
Conde, whose iron frame resisted to the last, was alone
indefatigable, sleeping and working at wUl, and always
cheerful and good humoured.
Upon approaching Gien, at which place the Court then
was, Conde had twice very nearly fallen into the hands
of parties sent out to take him alive or dead. Hav
ing escaped almost by a miracle, on the last occasion,
soon after reaching ChatiUon, he gamed information that
the army of Beaufort and Nemours lay at about eight
leagues from that place, and hastened with all speed to
join it. At length, to his great joy, he saw the advanced
guard before him, and several of the troopers came gallop
ing up with a loud " Qui -vive ! " Some of them, however,
almost instantly recognised Conde, and shouts of joy and
surprise soon made known through the whole army what
had occurred.
He found the forces of the Fronde as divided as were its
chiefs. He took the command of it immediately; thus
doing away with the principal cause of the jealousy existing
between Nemours and Beaufort. He reviewed and reunited
it, gave it one day's rest, seized, without striking a blow, on
Montargis and Chateau-Renard, and threw himself with
the utmost rapidity on the royal army. It was scattered in
quarters distant from each other for the convenience of
foraging, and on account of the little dread with which
Beaufort and Nemours had inspired it. Marshal d'Hoc
quincourt was encamped at Bleneau, and Turenne a Httle
farther off, at Briare ; the two Marshals were to unite their
forces on the morrow. Conde did not give them time for
that : that same evening, and during the nights of the 6th
and 7th of AprU, 1652, he fell upon the head-quarters of

284 Political Women.
Hocquincourt, overwhelmed them, and succeeded in routmg
the rest, thanks to one of those charges in flank which he in
person ever led so energetically. Hocquincourt, after fight
ing Hke a gallant soldier, was forced to fall back for some
leagues in the direction of Auxerre, having lost all his bag
gage and three thousand horse. No sooner did Turenne
hear of the fact, than he sprang into the saddle, and marched
with some infantry both to the assistance of his brother
officer and to the defence of the King, who, resting secure
at Gien, might have fallen into the hands of the rebels. As
he advanced through the darkness of the night, the Marshal
saw the quarters of Hocquincourt in one blaze of fire, and
exclaiming, with the appreciation which genius has of
genius, " The Prince de Conde is arrived ! " he hurried on
with the utmost speed. Having neither cavalry nor artUlery,
and having sent word to Hocquincourt to rally to him as
soon as possible, he marched on in good order throughout
that long and dark night to join the bulk of his troops which
Navailles and PaUuan were bringing up. For an instant he
halted in a plain where there stood a rather dense wood on his
left, with a marsh on his right. Those around Cond^ thought
it an advantageous post; Conde judged very differently. " If
M. de Turenne makes a stand there," said he, " I shaU soon
cut him to pieces ; but he wiU take good care not to do so."*
He had not left off speaking when he saw that Turenne was
already retiring, too skilful to await Conde in the plaia and
expose himself to the Prince's formidable manoeuvres. A
little further off, he found a position much more favourable ;
there he firmly posted his force, determined to give battle.

* It is Tavannes who has preserved the details of this interesting
incident.

Political Women. 285
In vain did his officers urge him not to hazard an action,
not to risk the last army which remained to the monarchy,
and to confine himself to covering Gien whUst awaiting the
coming of Hocquincourt. " JYo," replied he, " we must
conquer or perish here."
Turenne, it is true, was very inferior in cavafry to Conde,
but he had a powerful and well-served artillery. Having
encouraged his troops to do their duty, he posted himself
upon an eminence which he covered with infantry and artil
lery, drew up his cavalry below in a plain too narrow to
permit of Conde deploying his own, and which could only
be reached by traversing a thick wood and a causeway in
tersected by ditches and boggy ground. From such strong
position, Conde could, in his turn, recognise his illustrious
disciple. No great manoeuvres were then practicable, and
as time did not permit of an attempt to turn Turenne, it was
necessary to crush him out of hand, if that were possible,
before he could effect a junction with Hocquincourt. The
defile was the key of the position ; and both sides fought
therein with equal fierceness. Turenne defended himself
sword in hand, and upon the six squadrons which Conde
hurled against him he opened a battery, as they passed, with
terrible execution, showing a courage equal to that of his
heroic adversary. Conde, judging from what he now saw,
believed the position in the hands of Turenne to be impreg
nable ; and it being too late to execute any other manoeuvres
with success during that day, he continued to cannonade the
royalist army till the evening, without any other attempt to
bring it to a battle.
Napoleon has not spared Conde in this affair any more
than other critics. He sums all thefr opinions up in one
piquant phrase, which it appears he was unable to resist, and

286 Political Women.
which made him smile in uttering it. " Conde," said he,
" for that once, was wanting in boldness." The dictum is
both brief and incisive, but there was no foundation for
it, in a mUitary pomt of view. There was, in truth, no want
of boldness on Condi's part tMoughout that campaign : far
from it, his whole line of conduct was a succession of
audacious actions and combmations. What could be bolder
than that forced journey of nearly ten days for more than
one hundred and fifty miles with half-a-dozen followers to
go and take the command of an army ? What bolder than
the resolution taken out of hand to throw himself between
Turenne and Hocqmncourt, to cut in two the royal army
and to disperse one half of it before attacking the other ?
Did Cond^ lose a moment in marching against Turenne and
pursuing him sword in hand ? Was it Ms fault that he had
to cope with a great captain, who knew how to select an ex
cellent position, and to maintain himself in it with immovable
firmness ? In the attack of that position, did Napoleon mean
to reproach Cond4 with want of boldness ? Turenne, it is
true, covered Mmself with glory, for he successfully resisted
Cond6; but Conde, in not having been victorious, was not
in the slightest degree beaten. The strategy, therefore, on
that occasion was irreproachable. As will be seen, it was in
his policy only that he failed. Conde quitted the army at
a very iU-timed moment, in om- opinion, but that step was
taken through considerations which had nothing to do with
the science of war.
To revert for a moment to this much-criticised action of
Bleneau. Towards night, Hocquincourt appeared upon the
field, having ralHed a considerable part of his cavafry.
Conde then retired, finding that his attempt was frustrated,
and took the way to Montargis; while Turenne rejoined

Political Women. 287
the Court, and was received by the Queen with all the gra
titude which such great services merited. Her first words
went to thank him for having placed the crown a second time
upon her son's head.
The terror and confusion which had reigned in Gien
during the whole of the preceding night and that day may
very weU be conceived when it is remembered that the safety
of the King himself, as well as the Queen, was at stake, and
that the life of the favourite Minister might at any moment
be placed at the mercy of his bitterest enemy, justified in
putting him to death immediately by the highest legal au
thority in the realm. Neither were the iU-disciplined and
irregular forces of Conde at all desfrable neighbours to the
troop of ladies who had followed the Court; and, as soon as
it was known that Conde had fallen upon Hocquincourt, the
whole of the little town was one scene of dismay and confu
sion. The royal army and that of Conde nowboth marched towards
Paris, nearly upon two parallel lines. But the great distress
which the Court suffered from want of money caused almost
as much insubordination to be apparent amongst the troops
of the King as amongst those of the rebels. Little respect
was shown to Mazarin himself ; and the young King was
often treated with but scanty ceremony, and provided for
but barely.
After quitting the neighbourhood of Gien, Conde, urged
by the desire of directing in person the negotiations and
intrigues which were going on in Paris, left his army under
the command of the celebrated Tavannes, and hastened to
the capital. The Count de Tavannes, whom he had selected
to fiU his own place, was without doubt an excellent officer,
one of the valiant Petits-maitres* who, upon the field of

288 Political Wo7nen.
battle, served as wings to the great soldier's thoughts, carried
his orders everywhere, executed the most dangerous ma
noeuvres, sometimes charging with an irresistible impetuositj'-,
at others sustaining the most terrible onsets with a firmness
and solidity beyond all proof. But though the intrepid
Tavannes was quite capable of leading the division of a
great army, he was not able enough to be its commander-in-
chief, and he had not authority over the foreign troops which
the Duke de Nemours had brought from Flanders, and which
he made over, on accompanying Conde to Paris, to the
command of the Count de Clmchamp. The army, thus
divided, was capable of nothmg great. Conde alone could
finish what he had begun. Once engaged in the formidable
enterprise that he had undertaken against the Queen and
Mazarin, there was no safety for him but in carrying it out
even to the end. He ought, therefore, to have waged war
to the knife, if the expression be allowable, against Turenne,
c onquered or perished, and to have constrained Mazarin to
flee for good and all to Germany or Italy, and the Queen to
place in his hands the young Kmg. To do that, Conde
should have had a definite ambition, an object clearly deter
mined; he ought to have plainly proposed to himself to
assume the Regency, or at least the lieutenant-generalship
of the kingdom in the place of Gaston, by will or by force, in
order to concentrate aU power in his own hands ; that he
might become, in short, a Cromwell or a William III. : and
Cond^ was neither the one or the other. His mind had been
perturbed by sinister dreams ; but, as has been remarked,
he had at heart an invincible fund of loyalty. Ambition
was rather hovering round him than within himself. But
* Upon the FdAis Maitres, see Mad. de Sabl^, chap. i. p. 44.

Political Women. 289
whatsoever it was he desired, and m every hypothesis — for
his secret has remained between Heaven and himself — he
did wrong in abandoning the Loire and leaving Turenne in
force there. That was the true error he committed, and not
in wanting audacity, as Napoleon supposed. It was not a
military but a political error — immense and irreparable.
He might have crushed Turenne, and ought to have
attempted it, but he let him slip from his grasp. The
opportunity once lost did not return. Turenne until then
was only second in rank ; by a glorious resistance he ac
qufred from that moment, and it was forced upon him to
maintain, the importance of a rival of Conde. Mazarin
grew from day to day more emboldened; royalty, which had
been on the very brink of ruin, again rose erect, and the
Court drew towards Paris; whUst, prompted by his evil
genius, quitting the field. of battle wherein lay his veritable
strength, Conde went away to waste his precious time in a
labyrinth of intrigues for which he was not fitted, and in
which he lost himself and the Fronde.

voii. I.

CHAPTER II.
POLITICAL AND GALLANT INTRIGUES  THE DUCHESS DE CHA-
TILLOn's sway over conde  SHAMEFUL CONSPIRACY
AGAINST MADAME DE LONGUEVILLE.
Conde arrived in Paris on the llth of April, and found
everything in the utmost confusion. It would be impossible
to follow aU the petty intrigues, or even make allusion to all
the events which affected the relative situations of the
parties in the capital ; but it may be observed that the ten
dency of both parties was to hold themselves in the neigh
bourhood of Paris. The chiefs of the Fronde hurried into
the city, to receive the congratulations due to their exploits
from the fair politicians who had won them to their cause.
The Queen also established her head-quarters near the
capital, to be ready for any turn of popular sentiment in her
favour, and to hear the reports of her spies on the proceed
ings of her enemies. She knew what dances were to be
given, and who were to attend the assembhes of the
duchesses of the Fronde. On one occasion when Turenne
knew that half the officers of Condi's army were engaged to
a brilliant fete at the Duchess de Montbazon's, he made an
attack on the enemy's camp, and was only repulsed by the
steadiness of some old soldiers, who gave time for reinforce
ments to arrive. But the crisis was at hand ; for each party
began to be suspicious of the other gaining over its sup
porters— Mazarin lavishing promises of place and money.

Political Women. 291
and the Duchess de ChatiUon, invested with fuU powers by
Conde, appearing in the opposite camp as the most irre
sistible ambassadress that ever was seen.
Thus matters stood in the early summer of 1652, and " all
that was most subtle and serious in politics," La Rochefou
cauld tells us, " was brought under the attention of Conde
to induce him to talce one of two courses — to make peace or
to continue the war ; when Madame de ChatiUon imbued
him with a design for peace by means the most agreeable.
She thought that so great a boon might be the work of her
beauty, and mingling ambition with the design of making a
new conquest, she desired at the same time to triumph over
the Prince de Conde's heart and to derive pecuniary advan
tages from her political negotiations."
We have already cursorUy mentioned the Duchess de
ChatiUon : it is now indispensable, in order to thoroughly
understand what is about to follow, to know something more
of that celebrated personage.
Isabella Angelique de Montmorency was one of the two
daughters of that brave and unfortunate Count de Mont
morency Bouteville, who, the victim of a false point of
honour and of an outrageous passion for duelling, was
decapitated on the Place de Greve, on the 21st of June,
1627. She was sister of Frangois de Montmorency,
Count de Bouteville, better known as the iUustrious Marshal
de Luxembourg. Born in 1626, she had been married in
1645 to the last of the Cohgnys, the Duke de Ch^illon, one
of the hepoes of Lens, kiUed in the action of Charenton in
1649. Left a widow at twenty-three, her rare loveliness won
for her a thousand adorers. She was one of the queens of
politics and gallantry during the Fronde ; and even, after
manifold amours, at thirty-eight could boast of captivating u 2

292 Political Women.
the Duke de Mecklenbourg, who espoused her in 1664. To
beauty, Madame de ChitiUon added great inteUigence, but
an intelligence wholly devoted to intrigue. She was vain
and ambitious, and at the same time profoundly selfish,
moderately scrupulous, and somewhat of the school of
Madame de Montbazon. While both were young, she had
smitten Conde ; but he had thought no more of her after
becoming absorbed with Ms love for Mademoiselle de Vigean.
After that elevated passion, so sorrowfully terminated,* and
after the fugitive emotion with which the lovely and
virtuous Mademoiselle de Toussy could still inspire him,
Conde stifled his chevalaresque instincts and bade adieu to
the haute galanterie of his youth and of the Hotel de Ram-
bo,uillet. A few insignificant and commonplace attachments,
of which no record has survived, alone excepted, Madame de
ChatiUon only is known to have captivated his heart for the
last time ; and that liaison exercised upon Conde and his
affairs, at the epoch at which we have arrived, an influence
sufficiently great for history to occupy itself therewith, if it
would not be content with retracing consequences and as it
were the outline of events which pass across the stage of the
world without being understood, without penetrating to the
true causes which are to be discovered in the characters and
passions of mankind. And, of aU passions, there is none at
once more energetic and wide-grasping than love. It
occupies an immense place in human life, and in the loftiest
as well as the lowliest conditions. In our own times, we
have seen it make and mar kings. In an earlier epoch, by
detaining Antony too long in Cleopatra's arms at Alexandria,
the formidable tempest gathered above his head which
* Mademoiselle de Vigean took the veil on the prince being forced to
marry the niece of Cardinal Richelieu.

Political Women. 293
nearly overwhelmed him at Munda. It played a great part
in the war which Henry IV. was about to undertake,
when a sudden death arrested him. One can scarcely resist
a smile on seeing historians for the most part taking no
account of it, as a thing too frivolous, and consigning it
altogether to private life, as though that which agitates the
soul so powerfully were not the principle of that which
blazes forth exteriorly ! No, the empire of beauty knows
no limitation, and in no instance did it show itself more
potent than over those great hearts of which Alexander the
Great, Caesar, Charlemagne, and Henry IV. of France were
the owners. We may well place Conde amongst such
illustrious company.
One graceful memento of Madame de ChatUlons power
over Conde has descended to our own day. At Chatillon-
sur-Loing, in what remains of the ancient chateau of the
Colignys, which Isabelle de Montmorency derived from her
husband and left to her brother, in that salon of the noble
heir of the Luxembourgs, as precious for history as for art,
wherein may be seen collected together, by the side of the
sword of the Constable Anne, the likeness of Luxembourg
on horseback, with his proud and piercing glance, as well as
the full-length portrait of Charlotte Marguerite de Mont
morency, Princess de Conde, in widow's weeds, there is also
a large and magnificent picture, representing a young woman
of ravishing beauty, with perfectly regular features, with
the loveliest bright chestnut hair, grey eyes of the softest
expression, a swan-like neck, of a shght and graceful figure,
painted with a natural grandeur, and embellished with all
the attractions of youth, enhanced by an exquisite air of
coquetry. She is seated in an easy attitude. One of her
hands, carelessly extended, holds a bouquet of flowers ; the

2 94 Political Women.
other rests upon the mane of a lion, whose head is drawn
fuU-face, and whose flaming eyes are unmistakably the
terrible eyes of Conde when seen with his sword drawn.
Here we behold the beautiful Duchess de ChatiUon at
twenty-five or twenty-six, and very nearly such as she has
taken care to describe herself in the Divers Portraits of
Mademoiselle de Montpensier. The head stands out won
derfully. It would be impossible to instance a more charming
countenance, but it is somewhat deficient in character and
grandeur, and quite different from that of Madame de Lon
gueville. The latter's face was not so regularly symmetrical,
but it wore a far loftier expression, and an air of supreme
distinction characterised her entire person.
Madame de ChatiUon and Madame de Longueville had
been brought up together, and very much attached during
the whole of their early youth. By degrees there sprung up
a rivalry of beauty between them, and they quarrelled
thoroughly when Madame de Longueville perceived after the
death of ChatiUon, that the young and beautiful widow, at
the same time that she was welcoming very decidedly the
homage of the Duke de Nemours, had also evident designs
upon Conde. Madame de Longueville had her own reasons
for not being then very severe upon others, but she knew
the self-seeking heart of the fair Duchess, aud she was
"alarmed for her brother's sake. She feared lest Madame de
ChatiUon, having great need of Court favour, might retain
Conde in the engagements which he had with Mazarin,
while she herself was forced to drag him into the Fronde.
The quarrel was renewed in 1651, as we have seen, and it
was in full force in 1652. Madame de ChatiUon and
Madame de Longueville were then disputing for Conde's
heart : the one drew him towards the Court, fully hoping

Political Women. 295
that the Court would not be ungrateful to her ; the other
urged him more and more upon the path of war. We have
related how Madame de Longueville, well knowing the
strength of Conde's friendship for the Duke de Nemours,
who was in the chains of the Duchess, very inopportunely
mingled politics and coquetry in Berri, and tried the power
of her charms upon Nemours, in order to carry Mm off from
Madame de ChatiUon and from the party of peace. No one
ever knew how far Madame de Longueville committed
herself on that occasion ; but, as we have remarked, the
slightest appearance was enough for La Rochefoucauld.
As he had only sought his own advantage in the Fronde,
not finding it therein, he began to grow tired, and asked
for nothing better than to put an end to the wandering and
adventurous life he had been for some years leading by a
favourable reconciliation. Madame de Longueville's conduct
in cutting him to the quick in what remained of his tender
feelings for her, and especially in the most sensitive portion
of his heart — its vanity and self-love — gave him an oppor
tunity or a pretext, which he seized upon with eagerness, to
break off a liaison become contrary to his interests. Thus,,
in April, 1652, when he returned to Paris with Conde, and
there found Madame de ChatiUon, he entered at once into
all her prejudices and all her designs, as he afterwards
owned to Madame de MotteviUe : * he placed at her service
all that was in him of skill and ability, and descended to
the indulgence of a revenge against Madame de Longueville
wholly unworthy of an honourable man, and which after the

* Mad. de MotteviUe, tom. v. p. 132. " M. de la Rochefoucauld m'a dit
que la jalousie et la vengeance le firent agir soigneusement, et Tju'il fit tout
ce que Mad. de ChatiUon voulut. "

296 Political Women.
lapse of two centuries is as revolting to every right-minded
person as it was to his contemporaries.
Madame de ChatiUon was not contented with carrying off
the giddy and inconstant Duke de Nemours from his new
love, then absent ; she exacted at his hands the public and
outrageous sacrifice of her rival. The reprisals of feminine
vanity did not stop there : the ambitious and intriguing
Duchess went further, she undertook to ruin Madame de
Longueville in her brother's estimation. With that object
she set herself, with the assistance of La Rochefoucauld, to
decry her in every way to him, and sought even to persuade
him that his sister was not attached to him as she made it
appear, and that she had promised the Duke de Nemours to
serve him at his expense ; whilst Madame de LongueviUe
had never dreamed in any way of separating Nemours from
Conde, but only from her, Madame de ChatiUon, purposely
to engage him more deeply in Conde's interests, in the Hght
that she understood them.
Madame de Longueville's policy was very simple, and it
was the true one, the Fronde once admitted. Assuredly, it
would have been better alike for Madame de LonguevUle,
for Conde, and for France not to have entered upon that
fatal path by which the national greatness was for ten years
arrested, and through which the house of Conde very nearly
perished ; but, after having embraced that sinister step, no
other alternative remained to a firm and logical mind than
to resolutely pursue its triumph. And that triumph, in
Madame de Longueville's eyes, was the overthrow of
Mazarin, a necessary condition of the domination of Conde.
Such was the end pointed out to her by La Rochefoucauld
when engaging her in the Fronde at the beginning of 1648,
and she had never lost sight of it. It was to attain it that

Political Women. 297
she had flung herself into the Civil War, and that she had
ended by dragging therein her brother; that, worsted at
Paris in 1649, she had striven in 1650 to raise Normandy;
that she had risked her life, braved exile, made alliance with
a foreign enemy, and unfurled at Stenay the banner of the
Princes. In 1651, she had advised the resumption of arms,
and now she maintained the impossibility of laying them
down, and that, instead of losing himself in useless negotia
tions with the subtle and skilful Cardinal, it was upon his
sword alone that Conde should rely. She thought him
incapable of extricating himself advantageously from the
intrigues by which he was surrounded, and therefore urged
him towards the field of battle. She had always exercised
a great sway over him, because he knew that her heart was
of like temper to his own ; and if passion had not blinded
him, he would have rejected with disdain the odious accusa
tions they had dared to raise against her, as he had done in
1643, in the affair ofthe letters attributed to her by Madame
de Montbazon : he would have easily recognised that Madame
de ChS,tillon, Nemours, and La Rochefoucauld would not
have joined to blacken her in his eyes, as a vulgar creature
ever ready to betray him for the latest lover, save in the
manifest design of embroiling them both, of securing him,
and of making him subserve their particular views.
Nemours alone knew what had taken place during that
journey from Montrond to Bordeaux, and the man who is
base enough to constitute himself the denouncer of a
woman to whom he has paid the warmest homage, is not
very worthy of being believed on his word. Besides Nemours
has not himself spoken, but Madame de ChatiUon and
Rochefoucauld, who have attributed to him certain senti
ments, and we know with what motive.

298 Political Women.
It would be difficult to imagine a conspiracy more dis
graceful than that formed at this juncture against Madame
de Longueville ; and that feature in it the more shameful
perhaps was that La Rochefoucauld himself boasts of having
invented and worked this machinery, as he terms it. The
three conspirators were dumb, but throngh different but
equally despicable reasons. Madame de ChatiUon desired
singly to govern Conde, and alone to represent him at
Court, in order to reap the profits of the negotiation.
Nemours was desirous of pleasing Madame de ChatiUon,
and looked forward also to have his share in the great
advantages promised him ; and, lastly. La Rochefoucauld was
actuated by a pitiless spirit of revenge, and in the hope of a
reconciliation necessary to his own immediate fortunes.
But here arose a delicate point, if we may speak of deli
cacy in such a matter : in the whole cabal, the least odious
was, after all, the Duke de Nemours, more frivolous than
perfidious, and who was deeply smitten with Madame de
ChatiUon. He loved her, and was beloved. The return of
the Prince de Conde, with his well-declared pretensions,
caused him cruel suffering, and his rage threatened to upset
the well-concerted scheme. The lovely lady herself could
not sometimes help being embarrassed between an imperious
prince and a jealous lover. Happily the future author of
the Maxims was at hand. La Rochefoucauld took upon
Mmself to arrange everything in the best way possible. It
was not very difficult for him to direct Madame de ChatUlon
how to manage Cond6 and Nemours both at once, and to
contrive in such a way that she might secure them both.
He made the rnoody Nemours comprehend that, in truth, he
had no reason to complain of an inevitable liaison, " qui ne
lui devoit pas etre suspecte, puisqu'on voulait lui en rendre

Political Women. 299
compte, et ne s'en servir que pour lui donner la piincipale
part aux affaires." At the same time, "he urged M. le Prince
to occupy himself with Madame de Chutillon, and to give
her in freehold the estate of Merlon." In such a fashion,
thanks to the honest intervention of La Rochefoucauld, a
good understanding was kept up, and the conspiracy went
quietly forwards. Conde had no mistrust whatever. A veil
had been cast over his eyes ; his martial disposition lulled
asleep in the lap of pleasure and in a labyrinth of negotia
tions, and cradled in the hope of an approaching peace.

INDEX.

Aiguillon, Duchess d', her resentment
against Conde for forcing her young
nephew Richelieu into a clandestine
marriage, i. 174.
Ancre, Marshal d', assassinated, i. 17.
Anet, Chateau d', a haunt of con
spirators against Mazarin, i. 105.
Anne of Austria, Queen of Louis
XIII. of France, her reception of
Mad. de Chevreuse on her retiurn
from exile, i. 39 ; her dread of
adventures and enterprises, 39 ;
Mazarin's entire ascendancy over her,
47 ; hesitates to take a decided atti
tude between Mazarin and his ene
mies, 65 ; evidence of her love for
Mazarin, 100 ; her Regency opens
under most brilliant auspices, loi ;
the conspiracy to take Mazarin's life
determines her to adopt his policy,
102 ; orders the arrest of Beaufort,
104 ; her lively displeasure at the
duel between Guise and Coligny, Ii5 ;
her jealous feeling against Madame de
Longueville, 122 ; retires before the
Fronde to St. Germain, 155 j her en
deavour to mortify the ladies of the
Fronde by giving a day-light ball,
1 70 ; her delight at seeing Conde
and the Frondeurs at daggers drawn,
1 74 ; secretly confers with De Retz
relative to the arrest of Cond6, Conti
and LongueviUe ; gives the fatal order
for that cowp d'itat, 1 76 ; orders the
arrest of the Duchesses de Longueville
and de Bouillon, 178 ; qiiits Paris
for Rouen to confront Madame de
Longueville, 180 ; the affirmation of
the Duchess d'Orleans that the Queen
had secretly married Mazarin, 201 ;
evidence of such marriage, 202 ; finds
herself in some sort a prisoner on the

proscription of Mazarin, 216 ; seri
ously prepares to make head against
Conde, 257 ; her fervour, constancy,
and marvellous skill manifested to
wards weakening Cond^, 258 ; the
great danger of herself, the King,
and Mazarin at Gien, 287.
Anne-Genevieve de Boukbon-Conde,
Duchess de Longueville, her birth
and parentage, i. i ; her desire for
conventual seclusion, 5 j her great
personal beauty, 7 ; her character,
10 ; suitors for her hand, 12 ; mai--
ried to the Duke de Longueville, 13 ;
her conduct towards a crowd of
adorers, 14 ; has a formidable enemy
in the Duchess of Montbazon, 66 ;
the quarrel between the rival
Duchesses in the affair of the dropped
letter, 71 ; public apology made her
by Madame de Montbazon, 74 ; un
occupied with politics at this junc
ture, 79 ; error of the Importants in
not conciliating her, 79 ; scandalised
by Coligny's championship of her in
the duel with Guise, 117 ; said to
have witnessed the duel from behind
a window-curtain, 118 ; verses on
the occasion, 118; Miossens (after
wards Marshal d'Albret) tries in vain
to win her heart, 121 ; her two indi
vidualities of opposite natures, 122 ;
her defective education, 122 ; cha
racter of her epistolary style, 123 ;
the different kind of education given
by Manage to Madame de SevignS
and Madame de la Fayette, 124 ; the
conquest of her heart and mind by
La Rochefoucauld, 125 ; risume of
her life (up to 1648), 131 ; queen of
the Congress of Munster, 133 ; ac
quires a taste for political discussions

302

Index.

and speculations, 134 ; Madame de
Motteville's portrait of her at this
period (1647), 135 ; she sacrifices
everything for La Rochefoucauld,
140 ; exercises a somewhat ridiculous
empire over her brother Conti, 142 ;
fatal infiuence of her passion for La
Rochefoucauld, 149 ; throws herself
into the first Fronde, 149 ; ultimately
involves in it every member of her
family, 150 ; arrayed against her
brother Cond6 in civil war, 154;
she shares all the fatigues of the
siege of Paris, 157 ; her energy and
intrepidity, 158 ; is given xip as a
hostage to the Parliament by her
husband, 159 ; gives birth to Charles
de Paris, the. Child of the, Fronde, in
the Hotel de Ville, 159 ; is recon
ciled to Condd, resumes her ascend
ancy over him, and detaches him
from Mazarin, 162 ; her embarrass
ment on reappearing at Court, 163 ;
the perilous jiath she is led into by
her infatuation for La Rochefoucauld,
166 ; undertakes to mislead Cond^
and give him over to Spain, 167 ;
the Queen orders her to be arrested ;
she escapes to Normandy with La
Rochefoucauld, 179 ; her adventures
in Normandy. She raises the standard
of revolt at Dieppe, 180 ; pursued
by the Queen, she assumes male
attire and reaches Rotterdam and
Stenay, 181 ; becomes the motive
power of "the Wmnen's War" or
Second Fronde, 182 ; the message
from her dying mother, 183 ; her
gracious reception by their Majesties
on her return from Stenay, 222 ; the
most brilliant period of her career,
223 : the idol of Spain, the terror of
the Court, and one of the grandeurs
of her family, 223 ; her motives for
opposing the marriage of her brother
with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse,
228 ; urges Cond6 to cut the knot,
aud make war upon the Crown, 246 ;
her conduct, feelings aud motives
examined at this juncture, 247 ;,
was she the cause of the rupture of
Conti's projected maraage, 248 ;
peremptorily commanded to join her
husband in Normandy, 253 ; she

perceives a change in La Rochefou
cauld's feelings, 254 ; follows the
Princess de Conde into Berri, 254 ;
the Duke de Nemours pays court to
her, 262 ; certain obscure relations
between them drives La Rochefou
cauld to a violent rupture, 264 ; a
rivalry of beauty leads her to humi
liate Madame de ChatiUon, 265 ;
how Madame de Longueville fell into
"the scandalous chronicle," 266;
her grave cause of complaint against
La Rochefoucauld, 266 ; Madame de
ChatiUon attempts to ruin her in
Conde's estimation, 296 ; her fatal
policy in the Fronde arrests the
national greatness for ten years, and
nearly ruins the House of Cond^,
296 ; the disgraeeful conspiracy
formed against her, 298.
Aristocracy in France, its constitu
tion in the reign of Louis XIV.,
i. 217.

Beaufoet, Francis de VendSme, Duke
de (called the "King of the Mar
kets " ), a suitor for the hand of Anne
de Bourbon, 12 ; a leader of the
Importants, 15 ; a rival of Mazarin
in the Queen's good graces, 52 ; his
character as sketched by La Roche
foucauld, 52 ; becomes the led-captain
of Madame de Montbazon, and the
bitterest enemy of Mazarin, 53 ; his
spite against Madame de LongueviUe,
71 ; his conduct in the affair cf the
dropped letters, 73 ; insinuates that
they were from Coligny, 7 1 ; irritated
at the banishment of Madame de
Montbazon, he enters into a plot
against Mazarin, 76 ; the ungovern
able impetuosity of his vengeance
against Madame de Longueville
strongly stigmatised, 80 ; prepares
an ambuscade to slay Mazarin, 95 ;
the plot fails, 99 ; is arrested and
imprisoned at Vincennes, 105 ; re
leased by the 'Fronde and becomes
master of Paris, 154 ; Madame de
Montbazon exercises plenary power
over him, 208 ; becomes one of the
most conspicuous leaders of tho
Fronde, 215.

Index.

303

Beaupuis, Count de, detected plotting
agaiust Mazarin, escapes to Rome,
86 ; his denunciation of the evils of
Richelieu's inordinate authority, 91.
Beauty in Woman, true definition of, 8.
Bouillon,- de la Tour d'Auvergne, Duke
de, conspires against RicheUeu, 25 ;
one of the party of the Malcontents,
109 ; joins Cond(S at Saint-Maiu-,
245.
Bouillon, Duchess de, given up as a
hostage to the Fronde, 159 ; quite as
ardent in politics as Madame de
LongueviUe, 206 ; arrested by the
Queen's order at her daughter's bed
side, and thrown into the BastiUe,
206.
Bridieu, Marquis de, acts as second to
Guise iu duel with Cohgny, 113.
Buckingham, George ViUiers, Duke of,
his political corre.spondeuce with
Madame de Che-vreuse, 19.
Burnet, Bishop, his assertion of Conde's
offer to CromweU to turn Protestant,
280.
Bussy-Rabutin, Count de, value of his
satire of Madame de Longue-viUe,
265.

Campion, Alexandre de, his mission to
Madame de Chevreuse, 28 ; his cen
sure of Madame de Montbazon's
conduct, 80.
Campion, Hem-i de, attributes the con
ception of the plot to destroy Mazarin
to Madame de Chevreuse iu concert
with Madame de Montbazon, 89 ; he
stipulates -with Beaufort that he
should not strike Mazarin, 92 ;
sought for by Mazarin, he takes refuge
at Anet, and afterwards at Rome,
97-
Cantecroix, Beatrice de Cusance,
Princess de, Charles, Duke de Lor
raine madly enamoured of, 147>.
Caumartin, Madame de, a portrait of
Madame de Chevreuse sketched by
De Retz to please the malignant curi
osity of, 21.
Chateauneuf, Charles de I'Aubepine,
Jiarquis de, released from an impri
sonment of ten years, 34 ; why
detested by the Princess de Conde,

40 ; restored to ofiice through Madame
de Chevreuse, 57 ; banished to Tou
raine, 106 ; bides his time for dis
placing Mazarin, and holds the seals
on the Cardinal going into exile, 107 ;
deprived of them by the Queen, 230 ;
restored to office to serve Mazarin iu
secret, 257 ; nobly inaugurates his
ministry by marching with the Queen
and young King into Berri, 263 ;
Mazarin learns with inquietude his
ever-increasing success, 278 ; again
displaced by Mazarin, 279.
Chatillon, Isabelle Angelique de Mont
morency, Duchess de (sister of the
iUustrious Marshal de Luxembourg),
the Great Conde's passion for her,
259 ; she urges Conde to an under
standing with the Court, 259 ;
manages her lofty lover -with infinite
tact, 259 ; is deeply enamoured of
the young Duke de Nemours, 259 ;
invested 1 with full powers as an
ambassadress by Cond^, 291 ; her
desire to triumph over Conde's heart,
291 ; her antecedents and character,
292 ; the important consequences of
her liaison -with Conde, 292 ; a por
trait of her at twenty-five described,
293 ; causes of her quarrel with
Madame de Longueville, 294 ; she
exacts from Nemours the pubUc and
outrageous sacrifice of her rival, 296 ;
attempts to ruin Madame de Longue-
-viUe in Conde's estimation, 296 ; her
embarrassment between an imperious
Prince and a jealous lover, 298.
Chavigny, Count de, his career, 231.
Chevreuse, Marie de Rohan, Duchess
de, her illustrious lineage, 1 7 ; mar
ries, first, Charles de Luynes, and
afterwards Claude de Chevreuse, 17 ;
as great favourite of Anne of Austria
her extensive influence over the poU
tics of Europe, 18 ; her personal
characteristics, 18 : summary of her
character by Cardinal de Retz, 19 ;
cause of her failure as a great poli
tician, 20 ; her adventures in exile,
22 ; her great ascendancy over the
cabinet of Madrid, 22 ; seeks refuge
in England, 22 ; RicheHeu's designs
to effect her destruction, 23 ; acts as
the connecting link between England,

304

Index.

Spain and Lorraine during the CivU
War in England, 24 ; negotiates with
Olivarez for the destruction of Riche
lieu, 26 ; was she a stranger to the
conspiracy of 1642 ? 26 ; abandoned
by the Queen on its discovery, 30 ;
her frightful position, 31 ; her per
petual exile decreed by the -will of
Louis XIIL, 32 ; is dreaded by
Mazarin, 33 ; her triumphant return
to Court, 34 ; her position and poli
tical influence, 36 ; the new relations
between her and the Queen, 39 ; she
attacks Richelieu's system as adopted
by Mazarin, 48 ; procures the return
of Chateauneuf to office, 49 ; pleads
for the Vendfime princes, 50 ;
manceuvres to secure the governor
ship of Havre for La Rochefoucauld,
53 ; the skill, sagacity, and address
of her counter-intrigues, 55 ; tries
the power of her charms on Mazarin,
55 ; devotes her whole existence to
poUtical intrigue aud conspiracy, 56 ;
want of precaution in her attacks
upon Mazarin, 5^ 5 ^er curious
struggle for supremacy -with the
Prime Minister, 58 ; the head and
mainspring of the Importants, 58 ;
her tactics to displace Mazarin iu
favour of Chateauneuf, 59 j she
organises a coup-de-main to destroy
Mazarin, 62 ; arranges -with the
Cardinal the composition of Madame
de Montbazon's apology, 74 ! lier
politic purpose of a fete to the Queen
foiled by the insane pride of Madame
de Montbazon, 76 > her efforts to
deprive Mazarin of supporters, 80 ;
her share in Beaufort's plot, 82 ;
Madame de Montbazon only an
instrument in her hands, 89 ; her
behaviour on the failure of the plot,
106 ; recommended by the Queen to
withdraw from Court, 107 ; carries
on a vast correspondence under the
mantle of the English embassy -with
Lord Goring, Croft, Vendome, and
BouiUon, and the rest of the Mal
contents, 109 ; her irritation at being
prohibited from visiting the Queen of
England, 143 ; Mazarin watches her
every movement, 144 ; ordered to
retire to Angouleme, she goes for a

third time into exile, 144 ; her bark
is captured by the English Parlia
mentarians and she is carried into
the Isle of Wight, 146 ; Mazarin has
Montresor arrested in hopes of pos
sessing himself of her costly jewels,
146 ; appUes herself to maintain au
alliance between Spain, Austria and
Lorraine — the last basis of her own
political reputation, 147 ; preserves
her sway over the Duke de Lorraine,
148 ; frustrates Mazarin's projects to
-win over the Duke, 148 ; becomes
once more the soul of every intrigue
planned against the government,
148 ; constitutes herself the media-
tress between the Queen and the
Frondeurs, 206 ; partially restored
to the (jueeu's confidence, 210 ;
assisted in her political intrigues hy
the Marquis de Laigues, 210 ; a
splendid supper given to her hy
Madame de Se-vigne, 211 ; forms a
plan -with the Princess Palatine of a
grand aristocratic league against
Mazarin, 224; the Fronde in 165 1
was Madame de Chevreuse, 225 ; she
procures Conde's release from prison,
225 ; her resentment at the rupture
of her daughter's marriage, 232 ;
she raises the entire Fronde against
Cond6, 242 ; opposes the schemes to
assassinate Coudfi, 243 ; Chateau
neuf, her friend and instrument, is
made Prime Minister, 257 ; remains
staunch to the Queen and Mazarin
through the last Fronde, 280.
Chevreuse, Charlotte Marie de Lor
raine, Mademoiselle de, her projected
marriage with the Prince de Conti,
224 ; supreme importance of such
marriage, 225 ; disastrous results of
its rupture, 232 ; impetuously pro
poses to tum the key upon Conde,
Conti and Beaufort at the Palais
d'Orleans, 233 ; her suspected and
almost public liaison with De Retz,
249 ; dies suddenly of a fever,
unmarried, 224.
Cinq Mars, Henri de, undermines
Richelieu with Louis XIIL, 25 ; his
death-warrant, 29.
Coligny, Count Maurice de (grandson
of the famous Admiral de Cohgny),

Index.

505

an adorer of Madame de Longueville,
14 ; the dropped letters falsely attri
buted to him, 71 ; as champion of
Madame de Longue-viUe, he chaUenges
the Duke de Guise, 113 ; fatal
result of the duel, '117 ; dies of his
wounds and of despair, 117 ; scan
dalous verses ou the occasion, 118.
Coetquen, Marquis de, hospitably re
ceives Madame de (Chevreuse when
exiled, 146.
Conde, Louis de Bourbon, Prince de,
arbiter of the political situation after
Rocroy, 80 ; his furious anger at
Madame de Montbazon's insult to his
sister, ill; hailed by the Queen
as the liberator of France, ill ;
receives into his house Coligny
wounded in duel with Guise, 116;
the state iu which he found Paris
after his victory of Lens : he offers
his sword to the Queen, 154 ; applies
himself to giving the new Importants
a harsh lesson, 155 j marches upon
Paris and places it under siege, 156 ;
the climax of his fame and fortune
as defender and saviour of the throne,
164 ; he tyrannises over the Court
and government, l68 ; he insults
Mazarin and embarrasses the Queen,
169 ; his want of capacity for busi
ness, 1 72 ; his train of petits-maitres,
172; on the murder of one pf his
servants he tries to crush the Fronde
leaders, 173 ; forces the young Duke
de Richelieu to marry clandestinely
MademoiseUe de Pons, 1 74 ; wounds
the Queen's pride by compelling her to
receive Jarz^ whom she had banished
for fatuously believing that she had
loved him, 1 75 ; arrested ou the
authority of his own signature and
imprisoned at Vincennes,' 177 ; what
constituted the strength of the
Princes' party in the Second Fronde,
188 ; the majority of the women
who meddled with poUtics were,
through sympathy, of his party,
203 ; his aged mother suppUcates in
vain for his release, and returns
home to die, 204 ; his liberation
effected hy no other power than that
of female influence, 206 ; he treats
Mazarin -with contempt at Havre,
VOL. I.

and on his release becomes master of
the situation, 215 ; is courted by
both the Fronde and Queen's party,
215 ; eight hundred princes and
nobles partisans of Condd, 217 ; his
sole error not having a fixed and
unalterable object, 230 ; appUes
himself to form a new Fronde, 234 ;
resumes the imperious tone which
had previously embroiled him with
the (Jueen and Mazarin, 237 ; Hoc
quincourt proposes to assassinate
Cond6, 243 ; he retreats to St. Maur
and holds a Court there, 245 ; re
appears in Parliament, 245 ; Cha
teauneuf and Mazarin labour to
destroy him, 257 ; he narrowly
escapes an ambuscade at Pontoise,
258 ; motives which rendered him
averse to civU war, 259 ; his final
determination to unsheath the sword,
260 ; raises the standard of revolt
in Guienne, 262 ; his adventurous
expedition, 275 ; to what did Conde
aspire ? 277 ; his inconstancy — offers
himself to Cromwell and to become
Protestant to have an English army,
278-280 ; the income and possessions
of his family, 278 ; he escapes for
the tenth time beiug taken and slain,
282 ; takes command of the Fronde
forces and throws himself upon the
royal army, 283 ; routs Hocquincourt
and attacks Turenne unsuccessfuUy,
285 ; unjust accusation of Napoleon
I. that Conde wanted boldness at
Bleneau, 286 ; he leaves the army
aud hastens to Paris, 287 ; in aban
doning the Loire he commits au
immense and irreparable error, 289 ;
invests Madame de Chatillon vrith
full powers as au ambassadress, 291 ;
imbued by her with a design for
peace by means the most agreeable,
291 ; a graceful memento of her
power over him still existing iu the
ancient Chateau of the Colignys,
293 ; Madame de Chatillon and
Madame de Longueville dispute for
Conde's heart, 294 ; the overthrow
of Mazarin a necessary condition of
the domination of Cond^, 296 ; is
advised by his sister to rely upon his
sword alone, 297.

3o6

Index.

CoNDE, Charlotte Marguerite de Mont
morency, Princess de Bourbon
(mother of the Great Conde and
Madame de Longueville), her influ
ence with Anne of Austria, 39 ; her
detestation of Madame de Chevreuse,
40 ; tries to destroy her hold upon the
Queen, 40 ; her Uvely resentment at
the insult to her daughter in the
affair of the dropped letters, 73 !
demands a public reparation from
Madame de Montbazon, 74 ; her de
meanour during the "mummeries"
of the apology, 74 ; obtains the pri
vilege of never associating with Ma
dame de Montbazon, 75 ; supplicates
in vain for Conde's release, aud re
turns home to die, 204.
Conde, Claire Clemence de Maill^,
Princess de Bourbon (daughter of the
Duke de Breze, and wife of the Great
Conde), shut up in Bordeaux with
the Dukes de Bouillon and de Roche
foucauld during "the Women's War, ' '
200, 204 ; only maintains herself in
Bordeaux through the aid ot the rab
ble va-nu-pieds, 205 ; forced to take
refuge hastily in the citadel of Mont
rond, 263.
Conti, Armand de Bourboa, Prince de
(brother of the (jreat Conde), his
extravagant adoration of his sister,
Madame de Longue-viUe, 141 ; mar
ries Anne Marie Martinozzi, niece of
Mazarin, 142 ; declared generalis
simo of the army of the king, 159 ;
the problem as to who was the author
of the rupture of his marriage with
Madame de Chevreuse, 227 ; his ar
dent passion for her, 231 ; is made
lieutenant-general iu Guienne by
Conde, 276 ; finishes, where he be
gun hfe, with theology, 142.
Corneille, Pierre, his Emilie painted
as a perfect heroine, 82.
FiEsijuE, Gilloua d'Harcourt, Countess
de, 195.
Fouquerolles, Madame de, her terri
ble anxiety lest she should be com
promised by the dropped letters, 73 ;
confides the secret to La Rochefou
cauld, 73 ; the letters are bumt in
the Queen's presence, 73.

Fronde, the, what gave it birth and sus
tained it, 149 ; Day of the Barri
cades, 153 ; the royal power attacked
by three parties simultaneously, 153;
the adherents of the Fronde, 156;
initiation of the Civil War, 159 ;
sordid selfishness of the Frondeurs,
161 ; carries everything before it in
1651, 223 ; brief retrospect of the
two Fronde wars, 267 ; one of the
most interesting as weU as diverting
periods in French history, 269 ; con
trast between its main features and
the contemporary civil war in Eng
land, 270 ; the wide-spread, misery
it entailed on France, 270.

Guise, Henri, Duke de (luise (grand
son of the Balafri), espouses the
cause of Madame de Montbazon iu
the affair of the dropped letters, 73 ;
confronts and defies the victorious
Condes, 112; fights a duel with
Cohgny, the champion of Madame de
Longue-rille, IIS; ^^^ insulting words
on unsheathing his sword, 115 ; re
sult of the duel on party feeUng in
France, 117; his liaison with Anne
de Gonzagua, 193 ; becomes unfaith
ful to her and elopes -with the Coun
tess de Bossuet, 194.
GuYMENE, Anne de Rohan, Princess
de (sister-in-law of Madame de
Chevreuse, and daughter-in-law of
Madame Montbazon), her numerous
crowd of old and young adorers, 37 ;
her flirtation -with Mazarin, 56 ; furi
ous at having been abandoned by De
Retz, offers the Queen to get him
confined in a ceUar, 209.

Hacqueville, Monsieur de, refuses to
be a go-between of De Retz aud Ma
dame de Chevreuse, 211.
Hautefort, Marie de (afterwards
Duchess de Schomberg), influence of
her piety and virtue, 37 ; witnesses
the arrest of Beaufort, 105.
Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I.
of England, her warm reception of
Madame de Chevreuse, 22 ; seeks an
Asylum iu France from the Parlia-

Index.

307

mentarians, 143 ; asserted to have
secretly married her equerry, Jermyn,
202.
Hocquincourt, Charles de Monchy,
Marshal d', proclaims Madame de
Montbazon "la belle des belles," 70 ;
is beaten hy Cond^ at Bleneau, 284.
Holland, Henry Rich, Earl of, his
political correspondence -with Madame
de Chevreuse, 19 ; encourages the
faction of Veud6me, VieuviUe, and
La Valette, 23.

Importants, the — Rochefoucauld's ac
count of that faction, 77 ; irritated
hy the banishment of their fascina
ting lady-leader, Madame de Mont
bazon, they plot to murder Mazarin,
78 ; their ruin decided upon by the
Queen and Mazarin, 79 ; their error in
not conciliating Madame de Longue
ville, 79 ; was the plot real or ima
ginary — a point of the highest histo
rical importance, 83 ; failure of the
plot and ruin of the faction, 104.

Joinville, Prince de (son of Charles
de Lorraine), suitor for the hand of
Anne de Bourbon, 12.

Laigues, Marquis de, declares himself
a lover of Madame de Chevreuse to
gain political importance, 210.
Longueville, Duchess de, see Anne de
Bourbon.
Longueville, Marie d'Orleans, see
Duchess de Nemours.
Longueville, Henry de Bourbon, Duke
de, marries Anne de Bourbon, 13 ;
titular lover of Madame de Mont
bazon, 70 ; plenipotentiary at the
Congress of Munster in 1645, 132 ;
gives up the Duchess as a hostage to
the Fronde, IS'9 ; raises Normandy
against Mazarin, 158 ; he impera
tively commands the Duchess to join
him in Normandy, 253.
LoKET, his rhyming description of the
supper given by Madame de Se-vigne
to Madame to Chevreuse, 212.
Lorraine, Charles IV., Duke of, in

volved in the conspiracy of Soissons
through Madame de Chevreuse, 26 ;
prefers amusing himself with civil
war to the quiet enjoyment of his
throne, 271.
Louia the Just (XIII. of France),
signs the death waiTant of his
favourite. Cinq Mars, 29 ; his decree
of exile against Madame de Chevreuse,
33-
Louis XIV., his majority declared,
256.
Luynes, Charles de. Favourite of
Louis XIII. , marries Marie de Rohan
(afterwards Duchess de Chevreuse),
17
Luynes, the (late) Duke de, aided the
Pope against the Garibaldians, 18.

Maulevrier, the Marquis de, writer
of the dropped letters addressed to
Madame de Fouquerolles, 13.
Mazarin, Jules, Cardinal, succeeds
Richelieu as Prime Minister, 32 ; his
origin, 44 ; is hated by the nobles,
parliament, and middle classes, 44 ;
installed in office, 45 ; his first ser-
-vice to Anne of Austria, 45 ; his
striking personal resemblance to
Buckingham, 46 ; how he obtained
entire sway over the Queen-Regent,
47 ; appUes himself to gain her
heart, 47 ; finds a formidable oppo
nent to his poUcy in Madame de
Che-vreuse, 48, 54 ; is terrified by
her matrimonial projects, 54 j flirts
-with Madame de Chevreuse, 55 ; his
attentions to Madame de Guymend,
56 ; his difficulty to make the Queen
comprehend his policy towards Spain,
60 ; declares that Madame de (Chev
reuse would ruin France, 61 ; fore
warned of a conspiracy to destroy
him, 62 ; the great families opposed
to him, 63 ; his anxieties and per
plexities, 64 ; the relations between
lum and the Queen, 64 ; his inter
vention in the quarrel of the rival
Duchesses, 74 ; his resolution in con
fronting the plot of the Importants,
79 ; did Mazarin owe all his great
career to a falsehood cunningly in
vented and audaciously sustained ?

3o8

Index.

83 ; the plan of the attack upon
him, 92 ; escapes assassination from
Beaufort's nocturnal ambuscade, 99 ;
compels the Queen to choose her
part by addressing himself to her
heart, 102 ; becomes absolute master
of the Queen's heart, 102 ; banishes
the conspirators and arrests Beau
fort, 106 ; his tactics and political
sagacity, 1 1 1 ; first introduces Ita
lian Opera at the French Court, 135 ;
concludes a peace with the Fronde
parliament, 161 ; insulted by Conde,
169 ; what constitutes the strength
of his party in the Second Froude,
187 ; goes into Guienne -with the
royal army, 205 ; banished by the
Fronde, 215 ; treated with contempt
by Cond^ at Havre, 215; with diffi
culty finds a refuge at Bruhl, 216 ;
in his exile governs tbe Queen as
absolutely as ever, 217 ; his immense
blunder (in 1650 J, 225 ; rebanished
and his possessions confiscated, 234 ;
governs France from Bruhl, 236 ;
foments quarrels between Conde and
the Fronde, 236 ; composes with the
Queen » political comedy of which
De Retz became the dupe and Conde
very nearly the victim, 238 ; the
draught of his treaty -with the Fronde,
the masterpiece of his pohtical skill,
falls into Conde's hands, 256 ;
alarmed at the success of Chateau
neuf, he breaks his ban, and returns
to France, 279 ; Cond6 and the
Fronde united against him, 280 ; to
gain supporters lavishly promises
place and money, 290.
Medici, Marie de (Queen of Henry IV.
and mother of Louis XIII. ), her im
prisonment of Charlotte de Montmo
rency, 2 ; couspkes against Richelieu,
28.
Miossens, Count de (afterwards Mar
shal d'Albret), tries unsuccessfully to
win the heart of Madame de Longue-
-vUle, 122 ; gives place to La Rochefou
cauld, 130.
Montagu, Lord, the intimate adviser
of Queen Henrietta Maria, and slave
ot Madame de Chevreuse, 24 ; Anne
of Austria's confidence in him, 37 ;
his mission to Madame de Chevreuse,

38 ; becomes a bigot and a devotee,
38.
M>,ntbazon, Hercule de Rohan, Duke
de (father of Madame de Chevreuse
and the Prince de Quymene), mar
ries at sixty-one Mai'ie d'Avangour
aged sixteen, 67 ; recommends the
example of Marie de Medici to his
young wife and takes her to Court,
67.
Montbazon, Mai-ie d'Avangour, Duchess
de, called by d'Hocquincourt "la
belle des belles," the youthful step
mother of Madame de Chevreuse,
her parentage and antecedents, 67 ;
married at sixteen to a husband of
sixty-one, 67 ; her personal and
mental characteristics, 68 ; contrast
in manners between her and Madame
de LongueviUe, 69 ; her numerous
adorers ; the Duke de Beaufort her
titular lover, 70 ; her malignant
hatred of Madame de Longueville,
7 1 ; employs her influence over the
houses of Venddme and Lorraine to
the injury of her rival, 71 ; the
affau' of the dropped letters, 71 ; the
party of the Importants espouse her
cause, 73 ; she is compelled to make
a public apology before the Queen
and Court, 74 ; the pretended recon
ciliation only a fresh declaration of
war, 75 ; her conduct at the coUation
given the Queen by Madame de Chev
reuse, 76 ; is banished by the King's
order, 76 ; she inveigles Beaufort
into a plot to destroy Mazarin, 89.
Montespan, Frau9oise-Athenais de
Rocheohouart Mortemart, Duchess
de, her fame as a beauty, 9 ; rela
tions to her of the Dukes de Longue
vUle and Beaufort, 14.
Montpensier, inue Marie Louise d'Or
leans (known as La Grande Made-
•moiselle), daughter of Gaston, Duke
d'Orleans aud cousin of Louis XIV.,
preserves the text of the di'opped
letters, 72 ; gives the two speeches
made ou the occasion of Madame de
Montbazon's reparation, 74.
MoTTEViLLE, Franoos Bertaut, Madame
de, her amusing recital of the
"mummeries" in the affair of the
dropped letters, 74 ; her account of

Index.

309

the Queen's reception of the news of
the abortive attempt to kill Mazarin,
103 ; her portrait of Madame de
Longue-viUe, 135 ; the princii^al mo
tive which urged La Rochefoucauld
to woo the Duchess, 140.

Nemours, Marie d'Orleans, Duchess de
(daughter of Henri, Duke de Longue-
-viUe), her harsh censure of the pride
and impracticability of the Condes,
165 ; quits Madame de LonguevUle
to take refuge in a convent, 180 ;
moves heaven and earth for the re
lease of Conde that he might keep
watch over the Duchess de ChatiUon,
208 ; her character, 212 ; the enemy
of the Fronde and the Condes, 227 ;
her detestation of Madame deLongue-
viUe, 252.
Nemours, Charles Amadeus, of Savoy,
Duke de, prompted by the Duchess
de Chatillon, his mistress, embraces
the cause of Conde, 208 ; pays court
to Madame de Longueville instead of
making active war in Berri, 262 ;
the obscure relations between them
at this juncture, drives La Roche
foucauld to a violent rupture with
Madame de Longue-viUe, 264.

Orleans, Gaston, Duke d' (brother of
Louis XIII. \, conspires against Riche
lieu, 25 ; his incapacity to govern,
171 ; his jealousy of the influence of
Cond^ and of Mazarin, 171 ; makes
De Retz his confidant, who obtains
his assent to the arrest of the Princes,
176; becomes the head of a fifth
pai-ty iu the Second Fronde, 200 ;
consents to the. liberation of the
Princes on promise that his daughter
should matry Condi's son, 207 ; go
verned by De Retz and Madame de
Che-vreuse, 258.

PETiTS-MAiTRES, the train of Conde
called, their character, 288.
Palatine, Anne de Gonzagua, Princess
(widow of Edward Prince Palatine),
peculiarities of her epistolary style, |

124 ; her large intelligence, solidity,
refinement and ingenuity of thought,
124 ; becomes the head and main
spring of the Princes' party, or Second
Fronde, 179; the formidable pohti
cal opponent of Mazarin, 179 ; her
extraordinary political and diploma-
tical ability, 189 ; her antecedents,
190 ; her liaison with Henri de
Guise under a promise of marriage,
193 ; disguised in male attire she
joins her lover at Besan^on, 193 ;
abandoned by the volatile de Guise,
who elopes with the Countess de
Bossuet, she returns to Paris, 194;
is married to Prince Edward, Count
Palatine of the Rhine, 194 ; by her
conciliatory tact she obtains the es
teem of aU parties in the Fronde,
196 ; De Retz's eidogium and Ma
dame de MottevUle's opinion of her,
196 ; she operates on behalf of the
imprisoned Princes, and negotiates
four different treaties for their deli
verance, 198 ; an alliance with the
two camps concluded by her -with De
Retz, 224 ; she conducts with con-
summateskiUthe negotiation between
Madame de Che-vreuse and Madame
de Longue-viUe, 227.
Phalzbourg, Princess de (sister of
Charles IV. of Lorraine), acts as a
spy over Madame de Che-vreuse in the
interest of Mazarin, 147.
Political Intrigue, an affair of
fashion among the ladies of Anne of
Austria's Court, 56.

Rambouillet, Hotel de, 9.
Retz, John Francis Paul Gondi, Cardi
nal de, the evil genius of the Fronde,
151; his influence over the Parisians
as Coadjutor, 151 ; his character —
ladies of gaUantry his chief poUtical
agents, 152 ; his conspicuous merits
and faults, 172 ; his masterstroke of
address, 201 ; his best concerted mea
sures abortive through his inclination
for the fair sex, 208 ; faUs to acquire
the confidence of anyone — is threat
ened with assassination, 209 ; lends
an ear to CromweU and contracts a
close friendship with Montrose, 209 ;

3IO

Index.

has the same interests -with Madame
de Chevreuse in securing the union
of her daughter with Conti, 210 ; an
analysis of his character, antecedents,
and aspirations, 293 ; admitted un-
•wiUingly into the secret councUs of
the Queen, 240 ; his midnight inter
view with Anne of Austria, 241 ;
holds the key of Paris, 275 ; he
trims and follows the Duke d'Or
leans, 280.
Richelieu, Cardinal de, his govern
ment through terror, 24 ; conspiracy
to destroy him, 26 — 30 ; result of
his efforts to consolidate the regal
power, 32.
Richelieu, Duke de, engaged to Made
moiseUe de Chevreuse, but forced by
Cond^ to marry clandestinely when
under age. Mademoiselle de Pons,
174.
Rochefoucauld, Francis, second Duke
de la — his career as Prince de Mar
siUac, 127 ; his character of the
Duchess de LonguevUle, 10 ; his ad
vice to Madame de Chevreuse, 39 ;
Madame de Fouquerolles confides to
him the secret of the dropped letters,
.73 ; he delivers her and her lover
from their terrible anxiety, 73 ; seeks
to hush up and terminate the quarrel
of the rival Duchesses, 80 ; consti
tutes himself the champion of Madam e
deChe-vreuse's innocence of Beaufort's
plot, 83 ; allies himself vrith that il
lustrious poUtical adventuress, 128 ;
desirous of securing to his party the
master-mind of Conde to avenge him
self of the Queen and Mazarin, 128 ;
makes persistent love to Madame de
LonguevUle and wins her heart, 129 ;
his cynical maxim on the love of cer
tain women, 129 ; his personal and
mental characteristics, 137 ; the way
in which he superseded Miossens as
the lover of Madame de LongueviUe,
139 ; his sordid motive as her wooer,
140 ; his restless spirit and ever dis
contented vanity, 167 ; effects the
escape from Paris of Madame de
Longue-riUe, 178; gives proof of a
rare fidelity through the whole of
"the Women's War," 183 ; his an
cestral chateau of Verteuil razed to

the ground by Mazarin's orders, 183 ;
his conduct at this time contradicts
the assertion that he never loved the
woman he seduced and dragged into
the vortex of poUtics, 184 ; his ver
sion of the true cause of the rupture
of the marriage between MademoiseUe
de Chevreuse and Conti, 229 : grows
weary of a wandering and adventu
rous Ufe, 255 ; the report of certain
obscure relations existing between
Nemours and Madame de Longue
ville drives him to a violent rupture
with the Duchess, 264 ; his accusa
tion more absurd than odious, 264 ;
to indulge his revenge against Ma
dame de LongueviUe, he enters into
all Madame de ChatUlon's designs,
295 ; directs her how to manage
Cond6 and Nemours both at once,
298.

Scudert, Mademoiselle de, and the
prudes of the Hotel de Rambouillet
protest strongly against the marriage
of Conti with Mademoiselle de Chev
reuse, 249.
Seguier, Pierre, Keeper of the Seals,
his character, 49.
Sevigne, Marie de Rabutin-C!hantal,
Marquise de, gives a splendid supper
to the Duchess de Chevreuse, 211.
SoissoNS, Count de, his conspiracy to
destroy Cardinal de Richelieu, 25.
St. Maure, Countess of, the polish and
precision of her epistolary style,
123.

Tavannes, Count de, a valiant petit-
•maitre to whom Conde gives com
mand of the army after Bleneau,
257.
Turenne, Marshal de, raises the stan
dard of revolt in behalf of the Fronde,
156 ; is won over to make a treaty
-with Spain by Madame de Longue
viUe, 182 ; thanked by the Queen
after Bleneau, for having placed the
crown a second time on her son's
head, 287 ; achieves the importance
of being a rival of Cond^, 289 ; at
tack's the enemy's camp when half

Index.

311

the officers of Conde's army were at
Madame de Montbazon's ffite, 290.

Vigean, Mademoiselle de, Conde's love
for, 292.
Vend6me, Duke Ctesar de, the faction
of, with La VieuviUe and La Valette,

when emigrants in England, 23 ;
his pretensions and agitated life, 5 1 ;
decides to exile himself in Italy and
await the faU of Mazarin, 106.
ViTEY, Marshal de, prepares -with Count
de Cramail a coup-de-main against
Richelieu, 25.

END OF VOL. L

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