The Historic Court Memoirs of France, complete

Part 7 out of 62



The Prince agreed at once with our decision. Meantime the people rose at
the report I had spread concerning Mazarin's signing the treaty, which,
though we all considered it a necessary stratagem, I now repented of.
This shows that a civil war is one of those complicated diseases wherein
the remedy you prescribe for obviating one dangerous symptom sometimes
inflames three or four others.

On the 13th the deputies of Ruel entering the Parliament House, which was
in great tumult, M. d'Elbeuf, contrary to the resolution taken at M. de
Bouillon's, asked the deputies whether they had taken care of the
interest of the generals in the treaty.

The First President was going to make his report, but was almost stunned
with the clamour of the whole company, crying, "There is no peace! there
is no peace!" that the deputies had scandalously deserted the generals
and all others whom the Parliament had joined by the decree of union,
and, besides, that they had concluded a peace after the revocation of the
powers given them to treat. The Prince de Conti said very calmly that he
wondered they had concluded a treaty without the generals; to which the
First President answered that the generals had always protested that they
had no separate interests from those of the Parliament, and it was their
own fault that they had not sent their deputies. M. de Bouillon said
that, since Cardinal Mazarin was to continue Prime Minister, he desired
that Parliament should obtain a passport for him to retire out of the
kingdom. The First President replied that his interest had been taken
care of, and that he would have satisfaction for Sedan. But M. de
Bouillon told him that he might as well have said nothing, and that he
would never separate from the other generals. The clamour redoubled with
such fury that President de Mesmes trembled like an aspen leaf. M. de
Beaufort, laying his hand upon his sword, said, "Gentlemen, this shall
never be drawn for Mazarin."

The Presidents de Coigneux and de Bellievre proposed that the deputies
might be sent back to treat about the interests of the generals and to
reform the articles which the Parliament did not like; but they were soon
silenced by a sudden noise in the Great Hall, and the usher came in
trembling and said that the people called for M. de Beaufort. He went
out immediately, and quieted them for the time, but no sooner had he got
inside the House than the disturbance began afresh, and an infinite
number of people, armed with daggers, called out for the original treaty,
that they might have Mazarin's sign-manual burnt by the hangman, adding
that if the deputies had signed the peace of their own accord they ought
to be hanged, and if against their will they ought to be disowned. They
were told that the sign-manual of the Cardinal could not be burnt without
burning at the same time that of the Duc d'Orleans, but that the deputies
were to be sent back again to get the articles amended. The people still
cried out, "No peace! no Mazarin! You must go! We will have our good
King fetched from Saint Germain, and all Mazarins thrown into the river!"

The people were ready to break open the great door of the House, yet the
First President was so far from being terrified that, when he was advised
to pass through the registry into his own house that he might not be
seen, he replied, "If I was sure to perish I would never be guilty of
such cowardice, which would only serve to make the mob more insolent, who
would be ready to come to my house if they thought I was afraid of them
here." And when I begged him not to expose himself till I had pacified
the people he passed it off with a joke, by which I found he took me for
the author of the disturbance, though very unjustly. However, I did not
resent it, but went into the Great Hall, and, mounting the solicitors'
bench, waved my hands to the people, who thereupon cried, "Silence!"
I said all I could think of to make them easy. They asked if I would
promise that the Peace of Ruel should not be kept. I answered, "Yes,
provided the people will be quiet, for otherwise their best friends will
be obliged to take other methods to prevent such disturbances." I acted
in a quarter of an hour above thirty different parts. I threatened, I
commanded, I entreated them; and, finding I was sure of a calm, at least
for a moment, I returned to the House, and, embracing the First
President, placed him before me; M. de Beaufort did the same with
President de Mesmes, and thus we went out with the Parliament, all in a
body, the officers of the House marching in front. The people made a
great noise, and we heard some crying, "A republic!" but no injury was
offered to us, only M. de Bouillon received a blow in his face from a
ragamuffin, who took him for Cardinal Mazarin.

On the 16th the deputies were sent again to Ruel by the Parliament to
amend some of the articles, particularly those for adjourning the
Parliament to Saint Germain and prohibiting their future assemblies;
with an order to take care of the interest of the generals and of the
companies, joined together by the decree of union.

The late disturbances obliged the Parliament to post the city trained-
bands at their gates, who were even more enraged against the "Mazarin
peace," as they called it, than the mob, and who were far less dreaded,
because they consisted of citizens who were not for plunder; yet this
select militia was ten times on the point of insulting the Parliament,
and did actually insult the members of the Council and Presidents,
threatening to throw the President de Thore into the river; and when the
First President and his friends saw that they were afraid of putting
their threats into execution, they took an advantage of us, and had the
boldness even to reproach the generals, as if the troops had not done
their duty; though if the generals had but spoken loud enough to be heard
by the people, they would not have been able to hinder them from tearing
the members to pieces.

The Duc de Bouillon came to the Hotel de Ville and made a speech there to
Prince de Conti and the other generals, in substance as follows:

"I could never have believed what I now see of this Parliament. On the
13th they would not hear the Peace of Ruel mentioned, but on the 15th
they approved of it, some few articles excepted; on the 16th they
despatched the same deputies who had concluded a peace against their
orders with full and unlimited powers, and, not content with all this,
they load us with reproaches because we complain that they have treated
for a peace without us, and have abandoned M. de Longueville and M. de
Turenne; and yet it is owing only to us that the people do not massacre
them. We must save their lives at the hazard of our own, and I own that
it is wisdom so to do; but we shall all of us certainly perish with the
Parliament if we let them go on at this rate." Then, addressing himself
to the Prince de Conti, he said, "I am for closing with the Coadjutor's
late advice at my house, and if your Highness does not put it into
execution before two days are at an end, we shall have a peace less
secure and more scandalous than the former."

The company became unanimously of his opinion, and resolved to meet next
day at M. de Bouillon's to consider how to bring the affair into
Parliament. In the meantime, Don Gabriel de Toledo arrived with the
Archduke's ratification of the treaty signed by the generals, and with a
present from his master of 10,000 pistoles; but I was resolved to let the
Spaniards see that I had not the intention of taking their money, though
at his request Madame de Bouillon did all she could to persuade me.
Accordingly, I declined it with all possible respect; nevertheless, this
denial cost me dear afterwards, because I contracted a habit of refusing
presents at other times when it would have been good policy to have
accepted them, even if I had thrown them into the river. It is sometimes
very dangerous to refuse presents from one's superiors.

While we were in conference at M. de Bouillon's the sad news was brought
to us that M. de Turenne's forces, all except two or three regiments, had
been bribed with money from Court to abandon him, and, finding himself
likely to be arrested, he had retired to the house of his friend and
kinswoman, the Landgravine of Hesse. M. de Bouillon, was, as it were,
thunderstruck; his lady burst out into tears, saying, "We are all
undone," and I was almost as much cast down as they were, because it
overturned our last scheme.

M. de Bouillon was now for pushing matters to extremes, but I convinced
him that there was nothing more dangerous.

Don Gabriel de Toledo, who was ordered to be very frank with me, was very
reserved when he saw how I was mortified about the news of M. de Turenne,
and caballed with the generals in such a manner as made me very uneasy.
Upon this sudden turn of affairs I made these remarks: That every company
has so much in it of the unstable temper of the vulgar that all depends
upon joining issue with opportunity; and that the best proposals prove
often fading flowers, which are fragrant to-day and offensive to-morrow.

I could not sleep that night for thinking about our circumstances. I saw
that the Parliament was less inclined than ever to engage in a war, by
reason of the desertion of the army of M. de Turenne; I saw the deputies
at Ruel emboldened by the success of their prevarication; I saw the
people of Paris as ready to admit the Archduke as ever they could be to
receive the Duc d'Orleans; I saw that in a week's time this Prince, with
beads in his hand, and Fuensaldagne with his money, would have greater
power than ourselves; that M. de Bouillon was relapsing into his former
proposal of using extremities, and that the other generals would be
precipitated into the same violent measures by the scornful behaviour of
the Court, who now despised all because they were sure of the Parliament.
I saw that all these circumstances paved the way for a popular sedition
to massacre the Parliament and put the Spaniards in possession of the
Louvre, which might overturn the State.

These gloomy thoughts I resolved to communicate to my father, who had for
the last twenty years retired to the Oratory, and who would never hear of
my State intrigues. My father told me of some advantageous offers made
to me indirectly by the Court, but advised me not to trust to them.

Next day, M. de Bouillon was for shutting the gates against the deputies
of Ruel, for expelling the Parliament, for making ourselves masters of
the Hotel de Ville, and for bringing the Spanish army without delay into
our suburbs. As for M. de Beaufort, Don Gabriel de Toledo told me that
he offered Madame de Montbazon 20,000 crowns down and 6,000 crowns a year
if she could persuade him into the Archduke's measures. He did not
forget the other generals. M. d'Elbeuf was gained at an easy rate, and
Marechal de La Mothe was buoyed up with the hopes of being accommodated
with the Duchy of Cardonne. I soon saw the Catholicon of Spain (Spanish
gold) was the chief ingredient. Everybody saw that our only remedy was
to make ourselves masters of the Hotel de Ville by means of the people,
but I opposed it with arguments too tedious to mention. M. de Bouillon
was for engaging entirely with Spain, but I convinced Marechal de La
Mothe and M. de Beaufort that such measures would in a fortnight reduce
them to a precarious dependence on the counsels of Spain.

Being pressed to give my opinion in brief, I delivered it thus: "We
cannot hinder the peace without ruining the Parliament by the help of the
people, and we cannot maintain the war by the means of the same people
without a dependence upon Spain. We cannot have any peace with Saint
Germain but by consenting to continue Mazarin in the Ministry."

M. de Bouillon, with the head of an ox, and the penetration of an eagle,
interrupted me thus: "I take it, monsieur," said he, "you are for
suffering the peace to come to a conclusion, but not for appearing in
it."

I replied that I was willing to oppose it, but that it should be only
with my own voice and the voices of those who were ready to run the same
hazard with me.

"I understand you again," replied M. de Bouillon; "a very fine thought
indeed, suitable to yourself and to M. de Beaufort, but to nobody else."

"If it suited us only," said I, "before I would propose it I would cut
out my tongue. The part we act would suit you as well as either of us,
because you may accommodate matters when you think it for your interest.
For my part, I am fully persuaded that they who insist upon the exclusion
of Mazarin as a condition of the intended arrangement will continue
masters of the affections of the people long enough to take their
advantage of an opportunity which fortune never fails to furnish in
cloudy and unsettled times. Pray, monsieur, considering your reputation
and capacity, who can pretend to act this part with more dignity, than
yourself? M. de Beaufort and I are already the favourites of the people,
and if you declare for the exclusion of the Cardinal, you will be
tomorrow as popular as either of us, and we shall be looked upon as the
only centre of their hopes. All the blunders of the ministers will turn
to our advantage, the Spaniards will caress us, and the Cardinal,
considering how fond he is of a treaty, will be under the necessity to
court us. I own this scheme may be attended with inconveniences, but,
on the other side of the question, we are sure of certain ruin if we have
a peace and an enraged minister at the helm, who cannot hope for
reestablishment but upon our destruction. Therefore, I cannot but think
the expedient is as proper for you to engage in as for me, but if, for
argument's sake, it were not, I am sure it is for your interest that I
should embrace it, for you will by that means have more time to make your
own terms with the Court before the peace is concluded, and after the
peace Mazarin will in such case be obliged to have more regard for all
those gentlemen whose reunion with me it will be to his interest to
prevent."

M. de Bouillon was so convinced of the justice of my reasoning that he
told me, when we were by ourselves, that he had, as well as myself,
thought of my expedient as soon as he received the news of the army
deserting M. de Turenne, that he could still improve it, as the Spaniards
would not fail to relish it, and that he had been on the point several
times one day to confer about it with me; but that his wife had conjured
him with prayers and tears to speak no more of the matter, but to come to
terms with the Court, or else to engage himself with the Spaniards.
"I know," said he, "you are not for the second arrangement; pray lend me
your good offices to compass the first." I assured him that all my best
offices and interests were entirely at his service to facilitate his
agreement with the Court, and that he might freely make use of my name
and reputation for that purpose.

In fine, we agreed on every point. M. de Bouillon undertook to make the
proposition palatable to the Spaniards, provided we would promise never
to let them know that it was concerted among ourselves beforehand, and we
never questioned but that we could persuade M. de Longueville to accept
it, for men of irresolution are apt to catch at all overtures which lead
them two ways, and consequently press them to no choice.

I had almost forgotten to tell you what M. de Bouillon said to me in
private as we were going from the conference. "I am sure," said he,
"that you will not blame me for not exposing a wife whom I dearly love
and eight children whom she loves more than herself to the hazards which
you run, and which I could run with you were I a single man."

I was very much affected by the tender sentiments of M. de Bouillon and
the confidence he placed in me, and assured him I was so far from blaming
him that I esteemed him the more, and that his tenderness for his lady,
which he was pleased to call his weakness, was indeed what politics
condemned but ethics highly justified, because it betokened an honest
heart, which is much superior both to interest and politics. M. de
Bouillon communicated the proposal both to the Spanish envoys and to the
generals, who were easily persuaded to relish it.

Thus he made, as it were, a golden bridge for the Spaniards to withdraw
their troops with decency. I told him as soon as they were gone that he
was an excellent man to persuade people that a "quartan ague was good for
them."

The Parliamentary deputies, repairing to Saint Germain on the 17th of
March, 1649, first took care to settle the interests of the generals,
upon which every officer of the army thought he had a right to exhibit
his pretensions. M. de Vendome sent his son a formal curse if he did not
procure for him at least the post of Superintendent of the Seas, which
was created first in favour of Cardinal de Richelieu in place of that of
High Admiral, but Louis XIV. abolished it, and restored that of High
Admiral.

Upon this we held a conference, the result of which was that on the 20th
the Prince de Conti told the Parliament that himself and the other
generals entered their claims solely for the purpose of providing for
their safety in case Mazarin should continue in the Ministry, and that he
protested, both for himself and for all the gentlemen engaged in the same
party, that they would immediately renounce all pretensions whatsoever
upon the exclusion of Cardinal Mazarin.

We also prevailed on the Prince de Conti, though almost against his will,
to move the Parliament to direct their deputies to join with the Comte de
Maure for the expulsion of Cardinal Mazarin. I had almost lost all my
credit with the people, because I hindered them on the 13th of March from
massacring the Parliament, and because on the 23d and 24th I opposed the
public sale of the Cardinal's library. But I reestablished my reputation
in the Great Hall among the crowd, in the opinion of the firebrands of
Parliament, by haranguing against the Comte de Grancei, who had the
insolence to pillage the house of M. Coulon; by insisting on the 24th
that the Prince d'Harcourt should be allowed to seize all the public
money in the province of Picardy; by insisting on the 25th against a
truce which it would have been ridiculous to refuse during a conference;
and by opposing on the 30th what was transacted there, though at the same
time I knew that peace was made.

I now return to the conference at Saint Germain.

The Court declared they would never consent to the removal of the
Cardinal; and that as to the pretensions of the generals, which were
either to justice or favour, those of justice should be confirmed, and
those of favour left to his Majesty's disposal to reward merit. They
declared their willingness to accept the Archduke's proposal for a
general peace.

An amnesty was granted in the most ample manner, comprehending expressly
the Prince de Conti, MM. de Longueville, de Beaufort, d'Harcourt, de
Rieug, de Lillebonne, de Bouillon, de Turenne, de Brissac, de Duras, de
Matignon, de Beuron, de Noirmoutier, de Sdvigny, de Tremouille, de La
Rochefoucault, de Retz, d'Estissac, de Montresor, de Matta, de Saint
Germain, d'Apchon, de Sauvebeuf, de Saint Ibal, de Lauretat, de Laigues,
de Chavagnac, de Chaumont, de Caumesnil, de Cugnac, de Creci, d'Allici,
and de Barriere; but I was left out, which contributed to preserve my
reputation with the public more than you would expect from such a trifle.

On the 31st the deputies, being returned, made their report to the
Parliament, who on the 1st of April verified the declaration of peace.

As I went to the House I found the streets crowded with people crying "No
peace! no Mazarin!" but I dispersed them by saying that it was one of
Mazarin's stratagems to separate the people from the Parliament, who
without doubt had reasons for what they had done; that they should be
cautious of falling into the snare; that they had no cause to fear
Mazarin; and that they might depend on it that I would never agree with
him. When I reached the House I found the guards as excited as the
people, and bent on murdering every one they knew to be of Mazarin's
party; but I pacified them as I had done the others. The First
President, seeing me coming in, said that "I had been consecrating oil
mixed, undoubtedly, with saltpetre." I heard the words, but made as if I
did not, for had I taken them up, and had the people known it in the
Great Hall, it would not have been in my power to have saved the life of
one single member.

Soon after the peace the Prince de Conti, Madame de Longueville and M. de
Bouillon went to Saint Germain to the Court, which had by some means or
other gained M. d'Elbeuf. But MM. de Brissac, de Retz, de Vitri, de
Fiesque, de Fontrailles, de Montresor, de Noirmoutier, de Matta, de la
Boulaie, de Caumesnil, de Moreul, de Laigues, and d'Annery remained in a
body with us, which was not contemptible, considering the people were on
our side; but the Cardinal despised us to that degree that when MM. de
Beaufort, de Brissac, de La Mothe, and myself desired one of our friends
to assure the Queen of our most humble obedience, she answered that she
should not regard our assurances till we had paid our devoirs to the
Cardinal.

Madame de Chevreuse having come from Brussels without the Queen's leave,
her Majesty sent her orders to quit Paris in twenty-four hours upon which
I went to her house and found the lovely creature at her toilet bathed in
tears. My heart yearned towards her, but I bid her not obey till I had
the honour of seeing her again. I consulted with M. de Beaufort to get
the order revoked, upon which he said, "I see you are against her going;
she shall stay. She has very fine eyes!"

I returned to the Palace de Chevreuse, where I was made very welcome, and
found the lovely Mademoiselle de Chevreuse. I got a very intimate
acquaintance with Madame de Rhodes, natural daughter of Cardinal de
Guise, who was her great confidant. I entirely demolished the good
opinion she had of the Duke of Brunswick-Zell, with whom she had almost
struck a bargain. De Laigues hindered me at first, but the forwardness
of the daughter and the good-nature of the mother soon removed all
obstacles. I saw her every day at her own house and very often at Madame
de Rhodes's, who allowed us all the liberty we could wish for, and we did
not fail to make good use of our time. I did love her, or rather I
thought I loved her, for I still had to do with Madame de Pommereux.

Fronde (sling) being the name given to the faction, I will give you the
etymology of it, which I omitted in the first book.

When Parliament met upon State affairs, the Duc d'Orleans and the Prince
de Conde came very frequently, and tempered the heat of the contending
parties; but the coolness was not lasting, for every other day their fury
returned upon them.

Bachoumont once said, in jest, that the Parliament acted like the
schoolboys in the Paris ditches, who fling stones, and run away when they
see the constable, but meet again as soon as he turns his back. This was
thought a very pretty comparison. It came to be a subject for ballads,
and, upon the peace between the King and Parliament, it was revived and
applied to those who were not agreed with the Court; and we studied to
give it all possible currency, because we observed that it excited the
wrath of the people. We therefore resolved that night to wear hatbands
made in the form of a sling, and had a great number of them made ready to
be distributed among a parcel of rough fellows, and we wore them
ourselves last of all, for it would have looked much like affectation and
have spoilt all had we been the first in the mode.

It is inexpressible what influence this trifle had upon the people; their
bread, hats, gloves, handkerchiefs, fans, ornaments were all 'a la mode
de la Fronde', and we ourselves were more in the fashion by this trifle
than in reality. And the truth is we had need of all our shifts to
support us against the whole royal family. For although I had spoken to
the Prince de Conde at Madame de Longueville's, I could not suppose
myself thoroughly reconciled. He treated me, indeed, civilly, but with
an air of coldness, and I know that he was fully persuaded that I had
complained of his breach of a promise which he made by me to some members
of Parliament; but, as I had complained to nobody upon this head, I began
to suspect that some persona studied to set us at variance. I imagined
it came from the Prince de Conti, who was naturally very malicious, and
hated me, he knew not why. Madame de Longueville loved me no better.
I always suspected Madame de Montbazon, who had not nearly so much
influence over M. de Beaufort as I had, yet was very artful in robbing
him of all his secrets. She did not love me either, because I deprived
her of what might have made her a most considerable person at Court.

Count Fuensaldagne was not obliged to help me if he could. He was not
pleased with the conduct of M. de Bouillon, who, in truth, had neglected
the decisive point for a general peace, and he was much less satisfied
with his own ministers, whom he used to call his blind moles; but he was
pleased with me for insisting always on the peace between the two Crowns,
without any view to a separate one. He therefore sent me Don Antonio
Pimentel, to offer me anything that was in the power of the King his
master, and to tell me that, as I could not but want assistance,
considering how I stood with the Ministry, 100,000 crowns was at my
service, which was accordingly brought me in bills of exchange. He added
that he did not desire any engagement from me for it, nor did the King
his master propose any other advantage than the pleasure of protecting
me. But I thought fit to refuse the money, for the present, telling Don
Antonio that I should think myself unworthy, of the protection of his
Catholic Majesty if I took any, gratuity, while I was in no capacity,
of serving him; that I was born a Frenchman, and, by virtue of my, post,
more particularly, attached than another to the metropolis of the
kingdom; that it was my misfortune to be embroiled with the Prime
Minister of my King, but that my resentment should never carry me to
solicit assistance among his enemies till I was forced to do so for self-
preservation; that Divine Providence had cast my lot in Paris, where God,
who knew the purity of my intentions, would enable me in all probability
to maintain myself by my own interest. But in case I wanted protection I
was fully persuaded I could nowhere find any so powerful and glorious as
that of his Catholic Majesty, to whom I would always think it an honour
to have recourse. Fuensaldagne was satisfied with my answer, and sent
back Don Antonio Pimentel with a letter from the Archduke, assuring me
that upon a line from my hand he would march with all the forces of the
King his master to my assistance.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Always to sacrifice the little affairs to the greater
Always judged of actions by men, and never men by their actions
Arms which are not tempered by laws quickly become anarchy
Associating patience with activity
Blindness that make authority to consist only in force
Bounty, which, though very often secret, had the louder echo
Civil war is one of those complicated diseases
Clergy always great examples of slavish servitude
Confounded the most weighty with the most trifling
Contempt--the most dangerous disease of any State
Dangerous to refuse presents from one's superiors
Distinguished between bad and worse, good and better
Fading flowers, which are fragrant to-day and offensive tomorrow
Fool in adversity and a knave in prosperity
Fools yield only when they cannot help it
Good news should be employed in providing against bad
He had not a long view of what was beyond his reach
His wit was far inferior to his courage
His ideas were infinitely above his capacity
Impossible for her to live without being in love with somebody
Inconvenience of popularity
Kinds of fear only to be removed by higher degrees of terror
Laws without the protection of arms sink into contempt
Maxims showed not great regard for virtue
More ambitious than was consistent with morality
My utmost to save other souls, though I took no care of my own
Need of caution in what we say to our friends
Neither capable of governing nor being governed
Men of irresolution are apt to catch at all overtures
Never had woman more contempt for scruples and ceremonies
Oftener deceived by distrusting than by being overcredulous
One piece of bad news seldom comes singly
Only way to acquire them is to show that we do not value them
Poverty so well became him
Power commonly keeps above ridicule
Pretended to a great deal more wit than came to his share
Queen was adored much more for her troubles than for her merit
Strongest may safely promise to the weaker what he thinks fit
Those who carry more sail than ballast
Thought he always stood in need of apologies
Transitory honour is mere smoke
Treated him as she did her petticoat
Useful man in a faction because of his wonderful complacency
Vanity to love to be esteemed the first author of things
Virtue for a man to confess a fault than not to commit one
We are far more moved at the hearing of old stories
Weakening and changing the laws of the land
Whose vivacity supplied the want of judgment
Wisdom in affairs of moment is nothing without courage
With a design to do good, he did evil
Yet he gave more than he promised










MEMOIRS OF JEAN FRANCOIS PAUL de GONDI, CARDINAL DE RETZ, v3

Written by Himself

Being Historic Court Memoirs of the Great Events during the Minority of
Louis XIV. and the Administration of Cardinal Mazarin.




BOOK III.


MADAME:--Cardinal Mazarin thought of nothing else now but how to rid
himself of the obligations he lay under to the Prince de Conde, who had
actually saved him from the gallows. And his principal view was an
alliance with the House of Vendome, who had on some occasions opposed the
interest of the family of Conde.

In Paris the people libelled not only the Cardinal, but the Queen.
Indeed it was not our interest to discourage libels and ballads against
the Cardinal, but it concerned us to suppress such as were levelled
against the Queen and Government. It is not to be imagined what
uneasiness the wrath of the people gave us upon that head. Two
criminals, one of whom was a printer, being condemned to be hanged for
publishing some things fit to be burnt and for libelling the Queen, cried
out, when they were upon the scaffold, that they were to be put to death
for publishing verses against Mazarin, upon which the people rescued them
from justice.

On the other hand, some gay young gentlemen of the Court, who were in
Mazarin's interest, had a mind to make his name familiar to the
Parisians, and for that end made a famous display in the public walks of
the Tuileries, where they had grand suppers, with music, and drank the
Cardinal's health publicly. We took little notice of this, till they
boasted at Saint Germain that the Frondeurs were glad to give them the
wall. And then we thought it high time to correct them, lest the common
people should think they did it by authority. For this end M. de
Beaufort and a hundred other gentlemen went one night to the house where
they supped, overturned the table, and broke the musicians' violins over
their heads.

Being informed that the Prince de Conde intended to oblige the King to
return to Paris, I was resolved to have all the merit of an action which
would be so acceptable to the citizens. I therefore resolved to go to
the Court at Compiegne, which my friends very much opposed, for fear of
the danger to which I might be exposed, but I told them that what is
absolutely necessary is not dangerous.

I went accordingly, and as I was going up-stairs to the Queen's
apartments, a man, whom I never saw before or since, put a note into my
hand with these words: "If you enter the King's domicile, you are a dead
man." But I was in already, and it was too late to go back. Being past
the guard-chamber, I thought myself secure. I told the Queen that I was
come to assure her Majesty of my most humble obedience, and of the
disposition of the Church of Paris to perform all the services it owed to
their Majesties. The Queen seemed highly pleased, and was very kind to
me; but when we mentioned the Cardinal, though she urged me to it,
I excused myself from going to see him, assuring her Majesty that such a
visit would put it out of my power to do her service. It was impossible
for her to contain herself any longer; she blushed, and it was with much
restraint that she forbore using harsh language, as she herself confessed
afterwards.

Servien said one day that there was a design to assassinate me at his
table by the Abbe Fouquet; and M. de Vendome, who had just come from his
table, pressed me to be gone, saying that there were wicked designs
hatching against me.

I returned to Paris, having accomplished everything I wanted, for I had
removed the suspicion of the Court that the Frondeurs were against the
King's return. I threw upon the Cardinal all the odium attending his
Majesty's delay. I braved Mazarin, as it were, upon his throne, and
secured to myself the chief honour of the King's return.

The Court was received at Paris as kings always were and ever will be,
namely, with acclamations, which only please such as like to be
flattered. A group of old women were posted at the entrance of the
suburbs to cry out, "God save his Eminence!" who sat in the King's coach
and thought himself Lord of Paris; but at the end of three or four days
he found himself much mistaken. Ballads and libels still flew about.
The Frondeurs appeared bolder than ever. M. de Beaufort and I rode
sometimes alone, with one lackey only behind our coach, and at other
times we went with a retinue of fifty men in livery and a hundred
gentlemen. We diversified the scene as we thought it would be most
acceptable to the spectators. The Court party, who blamed us from
morning to night, nevertheless imitated us in their way. Everybody took
an advantage of the Ministry from our continual pelting of his Eminence.
The Prince, who always made too much or too little of the Cardinal,
continued to treat him with contempt; and, being disgusted at being
refused the post of Superintendent of the Seas, the Cardinal endeavoured
to soothe him with the vain hopes of other advantages.

The Prince, being one day at Court, and seeing the Cardinal give himself
extraordinary airs, said, as he was going out of the Queen's cabinet,
"Adieu, Mars." This was told all over the city in a quarter of an hour.
I and Noirmoutier went by appointment to his house at four o'clock in the
morning, when he seemed to be greatly troubled. He said that he could
not determine to begin a civil war, which, though the only means to
separate the Queen from the Cardinal, to whom she was so strongly
attached, yet it was both against his conscience and honour. He added
that he should never forget his obligations to us, and that if he should
come to any terms with the Court, he would, if we thought proper, settle
our affairs also, and that if we had not a mind to be reconciled to the
Court, he would, in case it did attack us, publicly undertake our
protection. We answered that we had no other design in our proposals
than the honour of being his humble servants, and that we should be very
sorry if he had retarded his reconciliation with the Queen upon our
account, praying that we might be permitted to continue in the same
disposition towards the Cardinal as we were then, which we declared
should not hinder us from paying all the respect and duty which we
professed for his Highness.

I must not forget to acquaint you that Madame de Guemenee, who ran away
from Paris in a fright the moment it was besieged, no sooner heard that I
had paid a visit to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse than she returned to town
in a rage. I was in such a passion with her for having cowardly deserted
me that I took her by the throat, and she was so enraged at my
familiarity with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse that she threw a candlestick
at my head, but in a quarter of an hour we were very good friends.

The Prince de Conde was no sooner reconciled with the Court than he was
publicly reproached in the city for breaking his word with the Frondeurs;
but I convinced him that he could not think such treatment strange in a
city so justly exasperated against Mazarin, and that, nevertheless, he
might depend on my best services, for which he assured me of his constant
friendship.

Moissans, now Marechal d'Albret, who was at the head of the King's
gendarmes, accustomed himself and others to threaten the chief minister,
who augmented the public odium against himself by reestablishing Emeri,
a man detested by all the kingdom. We were not a little alarmed at his
reestablishment, because this man, who knew Paris better than the
Cardinal, distributed money among the people to a very good purpose.
This is a singular science, which is either very beneficial or hurtful in
its consequences, according to the wisdom or folly of the distributor.

These donations, laid out with discretion and secrecy, obliged us to
yield ourselves more and more unto the bulk of the people, and, finding a
fit opportunity for this performance, we took care not to let it slip,
which, if they had been ruled by me, we should not have done so soon, for
we were not yet forced to make use of such expedients. It is not safe in
a faction where you are only upon the defensive to do what you are not
pressed to do, but the uneasiness of the subalterns on such occasions is
troublesome, because they believe that as soon as you seem to be inactive
all is lost. I preached every day that the way was yet rough, and
therefore must be made plain, and that patience in the present case was
productive of greater effects than activity; but nobody comprehended the
truth of what I said.

An unlucky expression, dropped on this occasion by the Princesse de
Guemenee, had an incredible influence upon the people. She called to
mind a ballad formerly made upon the regiment of Brulon, which was said
to consist of only two dragoons and four drummers, and, inasmuch as she
hated the Fronde, she told me very pleasantly that our party, being
reduced to fourteen, might be justly compared to that regiment of Brulon.
Noirmoutier and Laigues were offended at this expression to that degree
that they continually murmured because I neither settled affairs nor
pushed them to the last extremity. Upon which I observed that heads of
factions are no longer their masters when they are unable either to
prevent or allay the murmurs of the people.

The revenues of the Hotel de Ville, which are, as it were, the patrimony
of the bourgeois, and which, if well managed, might be of special service
to the King in securing to his interest an infinite number of those
people who are always the most formidable in revolutions--this sacred
fund, I say, suffered much by the licentiousness of the times, the
ignorance of Mazarin, and the prevarication of the officers of the Hotel
de Ville, who were his dependents, so that the poor annuitants met in
great numbers at the Hotel de Ville; but as such assemblies without the
Prince's authority are reckoned illegal, the Parliament passed a decree
to suppress them. They were privately countenanced by M. de Beaufort and
me, to whom they sent a solemn deputation, and they made choice of twelve
syndics to be a check upon the 'prevot des marchands'.

On the 11th of December a pistol, as had been concerted beforehand, was
fired into the coach of Joly, one of the syndics, which President
Charton, another of the syndics, thinking was aimed at himself, the
Marquis de la Boulaie ran as if possessed with a devil, while the
Parliament was sitting, into the middle of the Great Hall, with fifteen
or twenty worthless fellows crying out "To Arms!" He did the like in the
streets, but in vain, and came to Broussel and me; but the former
reprimanded him after his way, and I threatened to throw him out at the
window, for I had reason to believe that he acted in concert with the
Cardinal, though he pretended to be a Frondeur.

This artifice of Servien united the Prince to the Cardinal, because he
found himself obliged to defend himself against the Frondeurs, who, as he
believed, sought to assassinate him. All those that were his own
creatures thought they were not zealous enough for his service if they
did not exaggerate the imminent danger he had escaped, and the Court
parasites confounded the morning adventure with that at night; and upon
this coarse canvas they daubed all that the basest flattery, blackest
imposture, and the most ridiculous credulity was capable of imagining;
and we were informed the next morning that it was the common rumour over
all the city that we had formed a design of seizing the King's person and
carrying him to the Hotel de Ville, and to assassinate the Prince.

M. de Beaufort and I agreed to go out and show ourselves to the people,
whom we found in such a consternation that I believed the Court might
then have attacked us with success. Madame de Montbazon advised us to
take post-horses and ride off, saying that there was nothing more easy
than to destroy us, because we had put ourselves into the hands of our
sworn enemies. I said that we had better hazard our lives than our
honour. To which she replied, "It is not that, but your nymphs, I
believe, which keep you here" (meaning Mesdames de Chevreuse and
Guemenee). "I expect," she said, "to be befriended for my own sake, and
don't I deserve it? I cannot conceive how you can be amused by a wicked
old hag and a girl, if possible, still more foolish. We are continually
disputing about that silly wretch" (pointing to M. de Beaufort, who was
playing chess); "let us take him with us and go to Peronne."

You are not to wonder that she talked thus contemptibly of M. de
Beaufort, whom she always taxed with impotency, for it is certain that
his love was purely Platonic, as he never asked any favour of her, and
seemed very uneasy with her for eating flesh on Fridays. She was so
sweet upon me, and withal such a charming beauty, that, being naturally
indisposed to let such opportunities slip, I was melted into tenderness
for her, notwithstanding my suspicions of her, considering the then
situation of affairs, and would have had her go with me into the cabinet,
but she was determined first to go to Peronne, which put an end to our
amours.

Beaufort waited on the Prince and was well received, but I could not gain
admittance.

On the 14th the Prince de Conde went to Parliament and demanded that a
committee might be appointed to inquire into the attempt made on his
life.

The Frondeurs were not asleep in the meantime, yet most of our friends
were dispirited, and all very weak.

The cures of Paris were my most hearty friends; they laboured with
incredible zeal among the people. And the cure of Saint Gervais sent me
this message: "Do but rally again and get off the assassination, and in a
week you will be stronger than your enemies."

I was informed that the Queen had written to my uncle, the Archbishop of
Paris, to be sure to go to the Parliament on the 23d, the day that
Beaufort, Broussel, and I were to be impeached, because I had no right to
sit in the House if he were present. I begged of him not to go, but my
uncle being a man of little sense, and that much out of order, and being,
moreover, fearful and ridiculously jealous of me, had promised the Queen
to go; and all that we could get out of him was that he would defend me
in Parliament better than I could defend myself. It is to be observed
that though he chattered to us like a magpie in private, yet in public he
was as mute as a fish. A surgeon who was in the Archbishop's service,
going to visit him, commended him for his courage in resisting the
importunities of his nephew, who, said he, had a mind to bury him alive,
and encouraged him to rise with all haste and go to the Parliament House;
but he was no sooner out of his bed than the surgeon asked him in a
fright how he felt. "Very well," said my Lord. "But that is
impossible," said the surgeon; "you look like death," and feeling his
pulse, he told him he was in a high fever; upon which my Lord Archbishop
went to bed again, and all the kings and queens in Christendom could not
get him out for a fortnight.

We went to the Parliament, and found there the Princes with nearly a
thousand gentlemen and, I may say, the whole Court. I had few salutes in
the Hall, because it was generally thought I was an undone man. When I
had entered the Great Chamber I heard a hum like that at the end of a
pleasing period in a sermon. When I had taken my place I said that,
hearing we were taxed with a seditious conspiracy, we were come to offer
our heads to the Parliament if guilty, and if innocent, to demand justice
upon our accusers; and that though I knew not what right the Court had to
call me to account, yet I would renounce all privileges to make my
innocence apparent to a body for whom I always had the greatest
attachment and veneration.

Then the informations were read against what they called "the public
conspiracy from which it had pleased Almighty God to deliver the State
and the royal family," after which I made a speech, in substance as
follows:

"I do not believe, gentlemen, that in any of the past ages persons of our
quality had ever received any personal summons grounded merely upon
hearsay. Neither can I think that posterity will ever believe that this
hearsay evidence was admitted from the mouths of the most infamous
miscreants that ever got out of a gaol. Canto was condemned to the
gallows at Pau, Pichon to the wheel at Mans, Sociande is a rogue upon
record. Pray, gentlemen, judge of their evidence by their character and
profession. But this is not all. They have the distinguishing character
of being informers by authority. I am sorely grieved that the defence of
our honour, which is enjoined us by the laws of God and man, should
oblige me to expose to light, under the most innocent of Kings, such
abominations as were detested in the most corrupt ages of antiquity and
under the worst of tyrants. But I must tell you that Canto, Sociande,
and Gorgibus are authorised to inform against us by a commission signed
by that august name which should never be employed but for the
preservation of the most sacred laws, and which Cardinal Mazarin, who
knows no law but that of revenge, which he meditates against the
defenders of the public liberty, has forced M. Tellier, Secretary of
State, to countersign.

"We demand justice, gentlemen, but we do not demand it of you till we
have first most humbly implored this House to execute the strictest
justice that the laws have provided against rebels, if it appears that we
have been concerned directly or indirectly in raising this last
disturbance. Is it possible, gentlemen, that a grandchild of Henri the
Great, that a senator of M. Broussel's age and probity, and that the
Coadjutor of Paris should be so much as suspected of being concerned in a
sedition raised by a hot-brained fool, at the head of fifteen of the
vilest of the mob? I am fully persuaded it would be scandalous for me to
insist longer on this subject. This is all I know, gentlemen, of the
modern conspiracy."

The applause that came from the Court of Inquiry was deafening; many
voices were heard exclaiming against spies and informers. Honest Doujat,
who was one of the persons appointed by the Attorney-General Talon, his
kinsman, to make the report, and who had acquainted me with the facts,
acknowledged it publicly by pretending to make the thing appear less
odious. He got up, therefore, as if he were in a passion, and spoke very
artfully to this purpose:

"These witnesses, monsieur, are not to accuse you, as you are pleased to
say, but only to discover what passed in the meeting of the annuitants at
the Hotel de Ville. If the King did not promise impunity to such as will
give him information necessary for his service, and which sometimes
cannot be come at without involving evidence in a crime, how should the
King be informed at all? There is a great deal of difference between
patents of this nature and commissions granted on purpose to accuse you."

You might have seen fire in 'the face of every member. The First
President called out "Order!" and said, "MM. de Beaufort, le Coadjuteur,
and Broussel, you are accused, and you must withdraw."

As Beaufort and I were leaving our seats, Broussel stopped us, saying,
"Neither you, gentlemen, nor I are bound to depart till we are ordered to
do so by the Court. The First President, whom all the world knows to be
our adversary, should go out if we must."

I added, "And M. le Prince," who thereupon said, with a scornful air:

"What, I? Must I retire?"

"Yes, yes, monsieur," said I, "justice is no respecter of persons."

The President de Mesmes said, "No, monseigneur, you must not go out
unless the Court orders you. If the Coadjutor insists that your Highness
retire, he must demand it by a petition. As for himself, he is accused,
and therefore must go out; but, seeing he raises difficulties and
objections to the contrary, we must put it to the vote." And it was
passed that we should withdraw.

Meanwhile, most of the members passed encomiums upon us, satires upon the
Ministry, and anathemas upon the witnesses for the Crown. Nor were the
cures and the parishioners wanting in their duty on this occasion. The
people came in shoals from all parts of Paris to the Parliament House.
Nevertheless, no disrespect was shown either to the King's brother or to
M. le Prince; only some in their presence cried out, "God bless M. de
Beaufort! God bless the Coadjutor!"

M. de Beaufort told the First President next day that, the State and
royal family being in danger, every moment was precious, and that the
offenders ought to receive condign punishment, and that therefore the
Chambers ought to be assembled without loss of time. Broussel attacked
the First President with a great deal of warmth. Eight or ten
councillors entered immediately into the Great Chamber to testify their
astonishment at the indolence and indifference of the House after such a
furious conspiracy, and that so little zeal was shown to prosecute the
criminals. MM. de Bignon and Talon, counsel for the Crown, alarmed the
people by declaring that as for themselves they had no hand in the
conclusions, which were ridiculous. The First President returned very
calm answers, knowing well that we should have been glad to have put him
into a passion in order to catch at some expression that might bear an
exception in law.

On Christmas Day I preached such a sermon on Christian charity, without
mentioning the present affairs, that the women even wept for the unjust
persecution of an archbishop who had so great a tenderness for his very
enemies.

On the 29th M. de Beaufort and I went to the Parliament House,
accompanied by a body of three hundred gentlemen, to make it appear that
we were more than tribunes of the people, and to screen ourselves from
the insults of the Court party. We posted ourselves in the Fourth
Chamber of the Inquests, among the courtiers, with whom we conversed very
frankly, yet upon the least noise, when the debates ran high in the Great
Chamber, we were ready to cut one another's throats eight or ten times
every morning. We were all distrustful of one another, and I may venture
to say there were not twenty persons in the House but were armed with
daggers. As for myself, I had resolved to take none of those weapons
inconsistent with my character, till one day, when it was expected the
House would be more excited than usual, and then M. de Beaufort, seeing
one end of the weapon peeping out of my pocket, exposed it to M. le
Prince's captain of the guards and others, saying, "See, gentlemen, the
Coadjutor's prayer-book." I understood the jest, but really I could not
well digest it. We petitioned the Parliament that the First President,
being our sworn enemy, might be expelled the House, but it was put to the
vote and carried by a majority of thirty-six that he should retain his
station of judge.

Paris narrowly escaped a commotion at the time of the imprisonment of
Belot, one of the syndics of the Hotel de Ville annuitants, who, being
arrested without a decree, President de la Grange made it appear that
there was nothing more contrary to the declaration for which they had
formerly so exerted themselves. The First President maintaining the
legality of his imprisonment, Daurat, a councillor of the Third Chamber,
told him that he was amazed that a gentleman who was so lately near being
expelled could be so resolute in violating the laws so flagrantly.
Whereupon the First President rose in a passion, saying that there was
neither order nor discipline in the House, and that he would resign his
place to another for whom they had more respect. This motion put the
Great Chamber all in a ferment, which was felt in the Fourth, where the
gentlemen of both parties hastened to support their respective sides, and
if the most insignificant lackey had then but drawn a sword, Paris would
have been all in an uproar.

We solicited very earnestly for our trial, which they delayed as much as
it was in their power, because they could not choose but acquit us and
condemn the Crown witnesses. Various were the pretences for putting it
off, and though the informations were not of sufficient weight to hang a
dog, yet they were read over and over at every turn to prolong the time.

The public began to be persuaded of our innocence, as also the Prince de
Conde, and M. de Bouillon told me that he very much suspected it to be a
trick of the Cardinal's.

On the 1st of January, 1650, Madame de Chevreuse, having a mind to visit
the Queen, with whom she had carried on in all her disgrace an
unaccountable correspondence, went to the King's Palace. The Cardinal,
taking her aside in the Queen's little cabinet, said to her:

"You love the Queen. Is it not possible for you to make your friends
love her?"

"How can that be?" said she; "the Queen is no more a Queen, but a humble
servant to M. le Prince."

"Good God!" replied the Cardinal; "we might do great things if we could
get some men into our interest. But M. de Beaufort is at the service of
Madame de Montbazon, and she is devoted to Vigneul and the Coadjutor; "
at the mention of which he smiled. "I take you, monsieur," said Madame
de Chevreuse; "I will answer for him and for her."

Thus the conversation began, and the Cardinal making a sign to the Queen,
Madame de Chevreuse had a long conference that night with her Majesty,
who gave her this billet for me, written and signed with her own hand:

Notwithstanding what has passed and what is now doing, I cannot but
persuade myself that M. le Coadjuteur is in my interest. I desire
to see him, and that nobody may know it but Madame and Mademoiselle
de Chevreuse. This name shall be your security.
ANNE

Being convinced that the Queen was downright angry with the Prince de
Conde on account of a rumour spread abroad that he had some intriguing
gallantries with her Majesty, I weighed all circumstances and returned
the answer to the Queen:

Never was there one moment of my life wherein I was not devoted to
your Majesty. I am so far from consulting my own safety that I
would gladly die for your service . . . I will go to any place
your Majesty shall order me.

My answer, with the Queen's letter enclosed, was carried back by Madame
de Chevreuse and well received. I went immediately to Court, and was
taken up the back staircase by the Queen's train-bearer to the petit
oratoire, where her Majesty was shut up all alone. She showed me as much
kindness as she could, considering her hatred against M. le Prince and
her friendship for the Cardinal, though the latter seemed the more to
prevail, because in speaking of the civil wars and of the Cardinal's
friendship for me she called him "the poor Cardinal" twenty times over.
Half an hour after, the Cardinal came in, who begged the Queen to
dispense with the respect he owed her Majesty while he embraced me in her
presence. He was pleased to say he was very sorry that he could not give
me that very moment his own cardinal's cap. He talked so much of
favours, gratifications, and rewards that I was obliged to explain
myself, knowing that nothing is more destructive of new reconciliations
than a seeming unwillingness to be obliged to those to whom you are
reconciled. I answered that the greatest recompense I could expect,
though I had saved the Crown, was to have the honour of serving her
Majesty, and I humbly prayed the Queen to give me no other recompense,
that at least I might have the satisfaction to make her Majesty sensible
that this was the only reward I valued.

The Cardinal desired the Queen to command me to accept of the nomination
to the cardinalate, "which," said he, "La Riviere has snatched with
insolence and acknowledged with treachery." I excused myself by saying
that I had taken a resolution never to accept of the cardinalship by any
means which seemed to have relation to the civil wars, to the end that I
might convince the Queen that it was the most rigid necessity which had
separated me from her service. I rejected upon the same account all the
other advantageous propositions he made me, and, he still insisting that
the Queen could do no less than confer upon me something that was very
considerable for the signal service I was likely to do her Majesty, I
answered:

"There is one point wherein the Queen can do me more good than if she
gave me a triple crown. Her Majesty told me just now that she will cause
M. le Prince to be apprehended. A person of his high rank and merit
neither can nor ought to be always shut up in prison, for when he comes
abroad he will be full of resentment against me, though I hope my dignity
will be my protection. There are a great many gentlemen engaged with me
who, in such a juncture, would be ready to serve the Queen. And if it
seemed good to your Majesty to entrust one of them with some important
employment, I should be more pleased than with ten cardinals' hats."

The Cardinal told the Queen that nothing was more just, and the affair
should be considered between him and me.

We had several conferences, at which we agreed on gratifications for some
of our friends and to arrest the Prince de Conde, the Prince de Conti,
and the Duc de Longueville.

The Cardinal took occasion to speak of the treachery of La Riviere.
"This man," said he, "takes me to be the most stupid creature living, and
thinks he shall be to-morrow a cardinal. I diverted myself to-day with
letting him try on some scarlet cloth I lately received from Italy, and I
put it near his face to know whether a scarlet colour or carnation became
him best."

I heard from Rome that his Eminence was not behindhand with La Riviere
upon the score of treachery. For on the very day he got him nominated by
the King, he wrote a letter to Cardinal Sachelli more fit to recommend
him to a yellow cap than to a red one. This letter, nevertheless, was
full of tenderness for La Riviere, which Mazarin knew was the only way to
ruin him with Pope Innocent, who hated Mazarin and all his adherents.

Madame de Chevreuse undertook to see how the Duc d'Orleans would relish
the design of imprisoning the Princes. She told him that, though the
Queen was not satisfied with M. le Prince, yet she could not form a
resolution of apprehending him without the concurrence of his Royal
Highness. She magnified the advantages of bringing over to the King's
service the powerful faction of the Fronde, and the daily dangers Paris
was exposed to, both by fire and sword. This last reason touched him as
much or more than all, for he trembled every time he came to the
Parliament; M. le Prince very often could not prevail upon him to go at
all, and a fit of colic was generally assigned as the reason of his
absence. At length he consented, and on the 18th of January the three
Princes were put under arrest by three officers of the Queen's Guards.

The people having a notion that M. de Beaufort was apprehended, ran to
their arms, which I caused to be laid down immediately, by marching
through the streets with flambeaux before me. M. de Beaufort did the
like, and the night concluded with bonfires.

The Queen sent a letter from the King to the Parliament with the reasons,
which were neither strong nor well set out, why the Prince de Conde was
confined. However, we obtained a decree for our absolution.

The Princesses were ordered to retire to Chantilly. Madame de
Longueville went towards Normandy, but found no sanctuary there, for the
Parliament of Rouen sent her a message to desire her to depart from the
city. The Duc de Richelieu would not receive her into Havre, and from
there she retired to Dieppe.

M. de Bouillon, who after the peace was strongly attached to the Prince
de Conde, went in great haste to Turenne; M. de Turenne got into Stenai;
M. de La Rochefoucault, then Prince de Marsillac, returned home to
Poitou; and Marechal de Breze, father-in-law to the Prince de Conde, went
to Saumur.

There was a declaration published and registered in Parliament against
them, whereby they were ordered to wait on the King within fifteen days,
upon pain of being proceeded against as disturbers of the public peace
and guilty of high treason.

The Court carried all before them. Madame de Longueville, upon the King
going into Normandy, escaped by sea into Holland, whence she went
afterwards to Arras, to try La Tour, one of her husband's pensioners, who
offered her his person, but refused her the place. She repaired at last
to Stenai, whither M. de Turenne went to meet her, with all the friends
and servants of the confined Princes that he could muster. The King went
from Normandy to Burgundy, and returned to Paris crowned with laurels of
victory.

The Princess-dowager, who had been ordered to retire to Bourges, came
with a petition to Parliament, praying for their protection to stay in
Paris, and that she might have justice done her for the illegal
confinement of the Princes her children. She fell at the feet of the Duc
d'Orleans, begged the protection of the Duc de Beaufort, and said to me
that she had the honour to be my kinswoman. M. de Beaufort was very much
perplexed what to do, and I was nearly ready to die for shame; but we
could do nothing for her, and she was obliged to go to Valery.

Several private annuitants, who had made a noise in the assemblies at the
Hotel de Ville, were afraid of being called to account, and therefore,
after M. le Prince was arrested, they desired me to procure a general
amnesty. I spoke about it to the Cardinal, who seemed very pliable, and,
showing me his hatband, which was 'a la mode de la Fronde', said he hoped
himself to be comprised in that amnesty; but he shuffled it off so long
that it was not published and registered in Parliament till the 12th of
May, and it would not have been obtained then had not I threatened
vigorously to prosecute the Crown witnesses, of which they were mightily
apprehensive, being so conscious of the heinousness of their crime that
two of them had already made their escape.

The present calm hardly deserved that name, for the storm of war began to
rise again in several places at once.

Madame de Longueville and M. de Turenne made a treaty with the Spaniards,
and the latter joined their army, which entered Picardy and besieged
Guise, after having taken Catelet; but for want of provisions the
Archduke was obliged to raise the siege. M. de Turenne levied troops
with Spanish money, and was joined by the greater part of the officers
commanding the soldiers that went under the name of the Prince's troops.

The wretched conduct of M. d'Epernon had so confounded the affairs of
Guienne that nothing but his removal could retrieve them.

One of the greatest mischiefs which the despotic authority of ministers
has occasioned in the world in these later times is a practice,
occasioned by their own private mistaken interests, of always supporting
superiors against their inferiors. It is a maxim borrowed from
Machiavelli, whom few understand, and whom too many cry up for an able
man because he was always wicked. He was very far from being a complete
statesman, and was frequently out in his politics, but I think never more
grossly mistaken than in this maxim, which I observed as a great weakness
in Mazarin, who was therefore the less qualified to settle the affairs of
Guienne, which were in so much confusion that I believe if the good sense
of Jeannin and Villeroi had been infused into the brains of Cardinal de
Richelieu, it would not have been sufficient to set them right.

Senneterre, perceiving that Cardinal Mazarin and I were not cordial
friends, undertook to reconcile us, and for that end took me to the
Cardinal, who embraced me very tenderly, said he laid his heart upon the
table, that was one of his usual phrases,--and protested he would talk as
freely to me as if I were his own son. I did not believe a word of what
he said, but I assured his Eminence that I would speak to him as if he
were my father, and I was as good as my word. I told him I had no
personal interest in view but to disengage myself from the public
disturbances without any private advantage, and that for the same reason
I thought myself obliged to come off with reputation and honour.
I desired him to consider that my age and want of skill in public affairs
could not give him any jealousy that I aimed to be the First Minister.
I conjured him to consider also that the influence I had over the people
of Paris, supported by mere necessity, did rather reflect disgrace than
honour upon my dignity, and that he ought to believe that this one reason
was enough to make me impatient to be rid of all these public broils,
besides a thousand other inconveniences arising every moment, which
disgusted me with faction. And as for the dignity of cardinal, which
might peradventure give him some umbrage, I could tell him very sincerely
what had been and what was still my notion of this dignity, which I once
foolishly imagined would be more honourable for me to despise than to
enjoy. I mentioned this circumstance to let him see that in my tender
years I was no admirer of the purple, and not very fond of it now,
because I was persuaded that an Archbishop of Paris could hardly miss
obtaining that dignity some time or other, according to form, by actions
purely ecclesiastical; and that he should be loth to use any other means
to procure it.

I said that I should be extremely sorry if my purple were stained with
the least drop of blood spilt in the civil wars; that I was resolved to
clear my hands of everything that savoured of intrigue before I would
make or suffer any step which had any tendency that way; that he knew
that for the same reason I would neither accept money nor abbeys, and
that, consequently, I was engaged by the public declarations I had made
upon all those heads to serve the Queen without any interest; that the
only end I had in view, and in which I never wavered, was to come off
with honour, so that I might resume the spiritual functions belonging to
my profession with safety; that I desired nothing from him but the
accomplishment of an affair which would be more for the King's service
than for my particular interest; that he knew that the day after the
arrest of the Prince he sent me with his promise to the annuitants of the
Hotel de Ville, and that for want of performance those men were persuaded
that I was in concert with the Court to deceive them. Lastly, I told him
that the access I had to the Duc d'Orleans might perhaps give him
umbrage, but I desired him to consider that I never sought that honour,
and that I was very sensible of the inconveniences attending it.
I enlarged upon this head, which is the most difficult point to be
understood by Prime Ministers, who are so fond of being freely admitted
into a Prince's presence that, notwithstanding all the experience in the
world, they cannot help thinking that therein consists the essence of
happiness.

When truth has come to a certain point, it darts such powerful rays of
light as are irresistible, but I never knew a man who had so little
regard for truth as Mazarin. He seemed, however, more regardful of it
than usual, and I laid hold of the occasion to tell him of the dangerous
consequences of the disturbances of Guienne, and that if he continued to
support M. d'Epernon, the Prince's faction would not let this opportunity
slip; that if the Parliament of Bordeaux should engage in their party,
it would not be long before that of Paris would do the same; that, after
the late conflagration in this metropolis, he could not suppose but that
there was still some fire hidden under the ashes; and that the factious
party had reason to fear the heavy punishment to which the whole body of
them was liable, as we ourselves were two or three months ago. The
Cardinal began to yield, especially when he was told that M. de Bouillon
began to make a disturbance in the Limousin, where M. de La Rochefoucault
had joined him with some troops.

To confirm our reconciliation, a marriage was proposed between my niece
and his nephew, to which he, gave his consent; but I was much averse to
it, being not yet resolved to bury my family in that of Mazarin, nor did
I set so great a value on grandeur as to purchase it with the public
odium. However, it produced no animosity on either side, and his friends
knew that I should be very glad to be employed in making a general peace;
they acted their parts so well that the Cardinal, whose love-fit for me
lasted about a fortnight, promised me, as it were of his own accord, that
I should be gratified.

News came about this time from Guienne that the Ducs de Bouillon and de
La Rochefoucault had taken Madame la Princesse into Bordeaux, together
with M. le Duc, her son. The Parliament was not displeased with the
people for receiving into their city M. le Duc, yet they observed more
decorum than could be expected from the inhabitants of Gascogne, so
irritated as they were against M. d'Epernon. They ordered that Madame la
Princesse, M. le Duc, MM. de Bouillon and de La Rochefoucault should have
liberty to stay in Bordeaux, provided they would promise to undertake
nothing against the King's service, and that the petition of Madame la
Princesse should be sent to the King with a most humble remonstrance from
the Parliament against the confinement of the Princes.

At the same time, one of the Presidents sent word to Senneterre that the
Parliament was not so far enraged but that they would still remember
their loyalty to the King, provided he did but remove M. d'Epernon. But
in case of any further delay he would not answer for the Parliament, and
much less for the people, who, being now managed and supported by the
Prince's party, would in a little time make themselves masters of the
Parliament. Senneterre did what he could to induce the Cardinal to make
good use of this advice, and M. de Chateauneuf, who was now Chancellor,
talked wonderfully well upon the point, but seeing the Cardinal gave no
return to his reasons but by exclaiming against the Parliament of
Bordeaux for sheltering men condemned by the King's declaration, he said
to him very plainly, "Set out to-morrow, monsieur, if you do not arrange
matters to-day; you should have been by this time upon the Garonne."

The event proved that Chateauneuf was in the right, for though the
Parliament was very excited, they stood out a long time against the
madness of the people, spurred on by M. de Bouillon, and issued a decree
ordering an envoy of Spain, who was sent thither to commence a treaty
with the Duc de Bouillon, to depart the city, and forbade any of their
body to visit such as had correspondence with Spain, the Princess herself
not excepted. Moreover, the mob having undertaken to force the
Parliament to unite with the Princes, the Parliament armed the
magistracy, who fired upon the people and made them retire.

A little time before the King departed for Guienne, which was in the
beginning of July, word came that the Parliament of Bordeaux had
consented to a union with the Princes, and had sent a deputy to the
Parliament of Paris, who had orders to see neither the King nor the
ministers, and that the whole province was disposed for a revolt. The
Cardinal was in extreme consternation, and commended himself to the
favour of the meanest man of the Fronde with the greatest suppleness
imaginable.

As soon as the King came to the neighbourhood of Bordeaux the deputies of
Parliament, who went to meet the Court at Lebourne, were peremptorily
commanded to open the gates of the city to the King and to all his
troops. They answered that one of their privileges was to guard the King
themselves while he was in any of their towns. Upon this, Marechal de La
Meilleraye seized the castle of Vaire, in the command of Pichon, whom the
Cardinal ordered to be hanged; and M. de Bouillon hanged an officer in
Meilleraye's army by way of reprisal.

After that the Marshal besieged the city in form, which, despairing of
succour from Spain, was forced to capitulate upon the following terms:

That a general pardon should be granted to all who had taken up arms and
treated with Spain, that all the soldiers should be disbanded except
those whom the King had a mind to keep in his pay, that Madame la
Princesse and the Duke should be at liberty to reside either in Anjou or
at Mouzon, with no more than two hundred foot and sixty horse, and that
M. d'Epernon should be recalled from the government of Guienne.

The Princess had an interview with both the King and Queen, at which
there were great conferences between the Cardinal and the Ducs de
Bouillon and de La Rochefoucault.

The deputy from Bordeaux, arriving at Paris soon after the King's
departure, went immediately, to Parliament, and, after an eloquent
harangue, presented a letter from the Parliament of Bordeaux, together
with their decrees, and demanded a union between the two Parliaments.
After some debates it was resolved that the deputy should deliver his
credentials in writing, which should be presented to his Majesty by the
deputies of the Parliament of Paris, who would, at the same time, most
humbly beseech the Queen to restore peace to Guienne.

The Duc d'Orleans was against debating about the petition to the Queen
for the liberation of the Priuces and the banishment of Cardinal Mazarin;
nevertheless, many of the members voted for it, upon a motion made by the
President Viole, who was a warm partisan of the Prince de Conde, not
because he had hopes of carrying it, but on purpose to embarrass M. de
Beaufort and myself upon a subject of which we did not care to speak, and
yet did not dare to be altogether silent about, without passing in some
measure for Mazarinists. President Viole did the Prince a great deal of
service on this occasion, for Bourdet a brave soldier, who had been
captain of the Guards and was attached to the interest of the Prince--
performed an action which emboldened the party very much, though it had
no success. He dressed himself and fourscore other officers of his
troops in mason's clothes, and having assembled many of the dregs of the
people, to whom he had distributed money, came directly to the Duc
d'Orleans as he was going out, and cried, "No Mazarin! God bless the
Princes!" His Royal Highness, at this apparition and the firing of a
brace of pistols at the same time by Bourdet, ran to the Great Chamber;
but M. de Beaufort stood his ground so well with the Duke's guards and
our men, that Bourdet was repulsed and thrown down the Parliament stairs.

But the confusion in the Great Chamber was still worse. There were daily
assemblies, wherein the Cardinal was severely attacked, and the Prince's
party had the pleasure of exposing us as his accomplices. What is very
strange is that at the same time the Cardinal and his friends accused us
of corresponding with the Parliament of Bordeaux, because we maintained,
in case the Court did not adjust affairs there, we would infallibly bring
the Parliament of Paris into the interest of the Prince. If I were at
the point of death I should have no need to be confessed on account of my
behaviour on this occasion. I acted with as much sincerity in this
juncture as if I had been the Cardinal's nephew, though really it was not
out of any love to him, but because I thought myself obliged in prudence
to oppose the progress of the Prince's faction, owing to the foolish
conduct of his enemies; and to this end I was obliged to oppose the
flattery of the Cardinal's tools as much as the efforts made by those who
were in the service of the Prince.

On the 3d of September President Bailleul returned with the other
deputies, and made a report in Parliament of his journey to Court; it
was, in brief, that the Queen thanked the Parliament for their good
intentions, and had commanded them to assure the Parliament in her name
that she was ready to restore peace to Guienne, and that it would have
been done before now had not M. de Bouillon, who had treated with the
Spaniards, made himself master of Bordeaux, and thereby cut off the
effects of his Majesty's goodness.

The Duc d'Orleans informed the House that he had received a letter from
the Archduke, signifying that the King of Spain having sent him full
powers to treat for a general peace, he desired earnestly to negotiate it
with him. But his Royal Highness added that he did not think it proper
to return him any answer till he had the opinion of the Parliament. The
trumpeter who brought the letter gathered a party at Tiroir cross, and
spoke very seditious words to the people. The next day they found libels
posted up and down the city in the name of M. de Turenne, setting forth
that the Archduke was coming with no other disposition than to make
peace, and in one of them were these words: "It is your business,
Parisians, to solicit your false tribunes, who have turned at last
pensioners and protectors of Mazarin, who have for so long a time sported
with your fortunes and repose, and spurred you on, kept you back, and
made you hot or cold, according to the caprices and different progress of
their ambition."

You see the state and condition the Frondeurs were in at this juncture,
when they could not move one step but to their own disadvantage. The Duc
d'Orleans spoke to me that night with a, great deal of bitterness against
the Cardinal, which he had never done before, and said he had been
tricked by him twice, and that he was ruining himself, the State, and all
of us, and would, by so doing, place the Prince de Conde upon the throne.
In short, Monsieur owned that it was not yet time to humble the Cardinal.
"Therefore," said M. Bellievre, "let us be upon our guard; this man can
give us the slip any moment."

Next day a letter was sent from the Prince de Conde, by the Baron de
Verderonne, to the Archduke, desiring him to name the time, place and
persons for a treaty. The Baron returned with a letter from the Archduke
to his Royal Highness, desiring that the conferences might be held
between Rheims and Rhetel, and that they might meet there personally,
with such others as they should think fit to bring with them. The Court
was surprised, but, however, did not think fit to delay sending full
powers to his Royal Highness to treat for peace on such terms as he
thought reasonable and advantageous for the King's service; and there
were joined with him, though in subordination, MM. Mole, the First
President, d'Avaux, and myself, with the title of Ambassadors
Extraordinary and Plenipotentiaries. M. d'Avaux obliged me to assure Don
Gabriel de Toledo, in private, that if the Spaniards would but come to
reasonable terms, we would conclude a peace with them in two days' time.
And his Royal Highness said that Don Gabriel being a lover of money, I
should promise him for his part 100,000 crowns if the conference that was
proposed ended in a peace, and bid him tell the Archduke that, if the
Spaniards proposed reasonable terms, he would sign and have them
registered in Parliament before Mazarin should know anything of the
matter.

Don Gabriel received the overture with joy; he had some particular
fancies, but Fuensaldagne, who had a particular kindness for him, said
that he was the wisest fool he ever saw in his life. I have remarked
more than once that this sort of man cannot persuade, but can insinuate
perfectly well, and that the talent of insinuation is of more service
than that of persuasion, because one may insinuate to a hundred where one
can hardly persuade five.

The King of England, after having lost the battle of Worcester, arrived
in Paris the day that Don Gabriel set out, the 13th of September, 1651.
My Lord Taff was his great chamberlain, valet de chambre, clerk of the
kitchen, cup-bearer, and all,--an equipage answerable to his Court, for
his Majesty had not changed his shirt all the way from England. Upon his
arrival at Paris, indeed, he had one lent him by my Lord Jermyn; but the
Queen, his mother, had not money to buy him another for the next day.
The Duc d'Orleans went to compliment his Majesty upon his arrival, but it
was not in my power to persuade his Royal Highness to give his nephew one
penny, because, said he, "a little would not be worth his acceptance, and
a great deal would engage me to do as much hereafter." This leads me to
make the following digression: that there is nothing so wretched as to be
a minister to a Prince, and, at the same time, not his favourite; for it
is his favour only that gives one a power over the more minute concerns
of the family, for which the public does, nevertheless, think a minister
accountable when they, see he has power over affairs of far greater
consequence.

Therefore I was not in a condition to oblige his Royal Highness by
assisting the King of England with a thousand pistoles, for which I was
horridly, ashamed, both upon his account anal my own; but I borrowed
fifteen hundred for him from M. Morangis, and carried them to my Lord
Taff.--[Lord Clarendon extols the civilities of Cardinal de Retz to King
Charles II., and has reported a curious conversation which the Cardinal
had with that Prince.]--It is remarkable that the same night, as I was
going home, I met one Tilney, an Englishman whom I had formerly known at
Rome, who told me that Vere, a great Parliamentarian and a favourite of
Cromwell, had arrived in Paris and had orders to see me. I was a little
puzzled; however, I judged it would be improper to refuse him an
interview. Vere gave me a brief letter from Cromwell in the nature of
credentials, importing that the sentiments I had enunciated in the
"Defence of Public Liberty" added to my reputation, and had induced
Cromwell to desire to enter with me into the strictest friendship. The
letter was in the main wonderfully civil and complaisant. I answered it
with a great deal of respect, but in such a manner as became a true
Catholic and an honest Frenchman. Vere appeared to be a man of
surprising abilities.

I now return to our own affairs. I was told as a mighty secret that
Tellier had orders from the Cardinal to remove the Princes from the Bois
de Vincennes if the enemy were likely to come near the place, and that he
should endeavour by all means to procure the consent of the Duc d'Orleans
for that end; but that, in case of refusal, these orders should be
executed notwithstanding, and that he should endeavour to gain me to
these measures by the means of Madame de Chevreuse. When Tellier came to
me I assured him that it was all one, both to me and the Duc d'Orleans,
whether the Princes were removed or not, but since my opinion was
desired, I must declare that I think nothing can be more contrary to the
true interest of the King; "for," said I, "the Spaniards must gain a
battle before they can come to Vincennes, and when there they must have a
flying camp to invest the place before they can deliver the Princes from
confinement, and therefore I am convinced that there is no necessity for
their removal, and I do affirm that all unnecessary changes in matters
which are in themselves disagreeable are pernicious, because odious.
I will maintain, further, that there is less reason to fear the Duc
d'Orleans and the Frondeurs than to dread the Spaniards. Suppose that
his Royal Highness is more disaffected towards the Court than anybody;
suppose further that M. de Beaufort and I have a mind to relieve the
Princes, in what way could we do it? Is not the whole garrison in that
castle in the King's service? Has his Royal Highness any regular troops
to besiege Vincennes? And, granting the Frondeurs to be the greatest
fools imaginable, will they expose the people of Paris at a siege which
two thousand of the King's troops might raise in a quarter of an hour
though it consist of a hundred thousand citizens? I therefore conclude
that the removal would be altogether impolitic. Does it not look rather
as if the Cardinal feigns apprehension of the Spaniards only as a
pretence to make himself master of the Princes, and to dispose of their
persons at pleasure? The generality of the people, being Frondeurs, will
conclude you take the Prince de Conde out of their hands,--whom they look
upon to be safe while they see him walking upon the battlements of his
prison,--and that you will give him his liberty when you please, and thus
enable him to besiege Paris a second time. On the other hand, the
Prince's party will improve this removal very much to their own advantage
by the compassion such a spectacle will raise in the people when they see
three Princes dragged in chains from one prison to another. I was really
mistaken just now when I said the case was all one to me, for I see that
I am nearly concerned, because the people--in which word I include the
Parliament will cry out against it; I must be then obliged, for my own
safety, to say I did not approve of the resolution. Then the Court will
be informed that I find fault with it, and not only that, but that I do
it in order to raise the mob and discredit the Cardinal, which, though
ever so false; yet in consequence the people will firmly believe it, and
thus I shall meet with the same treatment I met with in the beginning of
the late troubles, and what I even now experience in relation to the
affairs of Guienne. I am said to be the cause of these troubles because
I foretold them, and I was said to encourage the revolt at Bordeaux
because I was against the conduct that occasioned it."

Tellier, in the Queen's name, thanked me for my unresisting disposition,
and made the same proposal to his Royal Highness; upon which I spoke, not
to second Tellier, who pleaded for the necessity of the removal, to which
I could by no means be reconciled, but to make it evident to his Royal
Highness that he was not in any way concerned in it in his own private
capacity, and that, in case the Queen did command it positively, it was
his duty to obey. M. de Beaufort opposed it so furiously as to offer the
Duc d'Orleans to attack the guards which were to remove him. I had solid
reasons to dissuade him from it, to the last of which he submitted, it
being an argument which I had from the Queen's own mouth when she set out
for Guienne, that Bar offered to assassinate the Princes if it should
happen that he was not in a condition to hinder their escape. I was
astonished when her Majesty trusted me with this secret, and imagined
that the Cardinal had possessed her with a fear that the Frondeurs had a
design to seize the person of the Prince de Conde. For my part, I never
dreamed of such a thing in my life. The Ducs d'Orleans and de Beaufort
were both shocked at the thought of it, and, in short, it was agreed that
his Royal Highness should give his consent for the removal, and that M.
de Beaufort and myself should not give it out among the people that we
approved of it.

The day that the Princes were removed to Marcoussi, President Bellievre
told the Keeper of the Seals in plain terms, that if he continued to
treat me as he had done hitherto, he should be obliged in honour to give
his testimony to the truth. To which the Keeper of the Seals returned
this blunt answer: "The Princes are no longer in sight of Paris; the
Coadjutor must not therefore talk so loud."

I return now to the Parliament, which was so moderate at this time that
the Cardinal was hardly mentioned, and they agreed, 'nemine
contradicente', that the Parliament should send deputies to Bordeaux to
know once for all if that Parliament was for peace or not.

Soon after this the Parliament of Toulouse wrote to that of Paris
concerning the disturbances in Guienne, part whereof belonged to their
jurisdiction, and expressly demanded a decree of union. But the Duc
d'Orleans warded off the blow very dexterously, which was of great
consequence, and, more by his address than by his authority, brought the
Parliament to dismiss the deputies with civil answers and insignificant
expressions, upon which President Bellievre said to me, "What pleasure
should we not take in acting as we do if it were for persons that had but
the sense to appreciate it!"

The Parliament did not continue long in that calm. They passed a decree
to interrogate the State prisoners in the Bastille, broke out sometimes
like a whirlwind, with thunder and lightning, against Cardinal Mazarin;
at other times they complained of the misapplication of the public funds.
We had much ado to ward off the blows, and should not have been able to
hold out long against the fury of the waves but for the news of the Peace
of Bordeaux, which was registered there on October the 1st, 1650, and put
the Prince de Conde's party into consternation.

One mean artifice of Cardinal Mazarin's polity was always to entertain
some men of our own party, with whom, half reconciled, he played fast and
loose before our eyes, and was eternally negotiating with them, deceiving
and being deceived in his turn. The consequence of all this was a great,
thick cloud, wherein the Frondeurs themselves were at last involved; but
which they burst with a thunderclap.

The Cardinal, being puffed up with his success in settling the troubles
of Guienne, thought of nothing else than crowning his triumph by
chastising the Frondeurs, who, he said, had made use of the King's
absence to alienate the Duc d'Orleans from his service, to encourage the
revolt at Bordeaux, and to make themselves masters of the persons of the
Princes. At the same time, he told the Princess Palatine that he
detested the cruel hatred I bore to the Prince de Conde, and that the
propositions I made daily to him on that score were altogether unworthy
of a Christian. Yet he suggested to the Duc d'Orleans that I made great
overtures to him to be reconciled to the Court, but that he could not
trust me, because I was from morning to night negotiating with the
friends of the Prince de Conde. Thus the Cardinal rewarded me for what I
did with incredible application and, I must say, uncommon sincerity for
the Queen's service during the Court's absence. I do not mention the
dangers I was in twice or thrice a day, surpassing even those of soldiers
in battles. For imagine, I beseech you, what pain and anguish I must
have been in at hearing myself called a Mazarinist, and at having to bear
all the odium annexed to that hateful appellation in a city where he made
it his business to destroy me in the opinion of a Prince whose nature it
was to be always in fear and to trust none but such as hoped to rise by
my fall.

The Cardinal gave himself such airs after the peace at Bordeaux that some
said my best way would be to retire before the King's return.

Cardinal Mazarin had been formerly secretary to Pancirole, the Pope's
nuncio for the peace of Italy, whom he betrayed, and it was proved that
he had a secret correspondence with the Governor of Milan. Pancirole,
being created cardinal and Secretary of State to the Church, did not
forget the perfidiousness of his secretary, now created cardinal by Pope
Urban, at the request of Cardinal de Richelieu, and did not at all
endeavour to qualify the anger which Pope Innocent had conceived against
Mazarin after the assassination of one of his nephews, in conjunction
with Cardinal Anthony.

[Anthony Barberini, nephew to Urban VIII., created Cardinal 1628,
made Protector of the Crown of France 1633, and Great Almoner of the
Kingdom 1653. He was afterwards Bishop of Poitiers, and, lastly,
Archbishop of Rheims in 1657. Died 1671.]

Pancirole, who thought he could not affront Mazarin more than by
contributing to make me cardinal, did me all the kind offices with Pope
Innocent, who gave him leave to treat with me in that affair.

Madame de Chevreuse told the Queen all that she had observed in my
conduct in the King's absence, and what she had seen was certainly one
continued series of considerable services done to the Queen.

She recounted at last all the injustice done me, the contempt put upon
me, and the just grounds of my diffidence, which, she said, of necessity
ought to be removed, and that the only means of removing it was the hat.
The Queen was in a passion at this. The Cardinal defended himself, not
by an open denial, for he had offered it me several times, but by
recommending patience, intimating that a great monarch should be forced
to nothing. Monsieur, seconding Madame de Chevreuse in her attack,
assailed the Cardinal, who, at least in appearance, gave way, out of
respect for his Royal Highness. Madame de Chevreuse, having brought them
to parley, did not doubt that she should also bring them to capitulate,
especially when she saw the Queen was appeased, and had told his Royal
Highness that she was infinitely obliged to him, and would do what her
Council judged most proper and reasonable. This Council, which was only
a specious name, consisted only of the Cardinal, the Keeper of the Seals,
Tellier, and Servien.

The matter was proposed to the Council by the Cardinal with much
importunity, concluding with a most submissive petition to the Queen to
condescend to the demand of the Duc d'Orleans, and to what the services
and merits of the Coadjutor demanded. The proposition was rejected with
such resolution and contempt as is very unusual in Council in opposition
to a Prime Minister. Tellier and Servien thought it sufficient not to
applaud him; but the Keeper of the Seals quite forgot his respect for the
Cardinal, accused him of prevarication and weakness, and threw himself at
her Majesty's feet, conjuring her in the name of the King her son, not to
authorise, by an example which he called fatal, the insolence of a
subject who was for wresting favours from his sovereign, sword in hand.
The Queen was moved at this, and the poor Cardinal owned he had been too
easy and pliant.

I had myself given a very natural handle to my adversaries to expose me
so egregiously. I have been guilty of many blunders, but I think this is
the grossest that I ever was guilty of in all my life. I have frequently
made this observation, that when men have, through fear of miscarriage,
hesitated a long time about any undertaking of consequence, the remaining
impressions of their fear commonly push them afterwards with too much
precipitancy upon the execution of their design. And this was my case.
It was with the greatest reluctance that I determined to accept the
dignity of a cardinal, because I thought it too mean to form a pretension
to it without certainty of success; and no sooner was I engaged in the
pursuit of it but the impression of the former fearful ideas hurried me
on, as it were, to the end, that I might get as soon as possible out of
the disagreeable state of uncertainty.

The Cardinal would have paid my debts, given me the place of Grand
Almoner, etc.; but if he had added twelve cardinals' hats into the
bargain, I should have begged his excuse. I was now engaged with
Monsieur, who had, meanwhile, resolved upon the release of the Princes
from their confinement.

Cardinal Mazarin, after his return to Paris, made it his chief study to
divide the Fronde. He thought to materially weaken my interest with
Monsieur by detaching from me Madame de Chevreuse, for whom he had a
natural tenderness, and to give me a mortal blow by embroiling me with
Mademoiselle her daughter. To do this effectually he found a rival, who,
he hoped, would please her better, namely, M. d'Aumale, handsome as
Apollo, and one who was very likely to suit the temper of Mademoiselle de
Chevreuse. He had entirely devoted himself to the Cardinal's interest,
looked upon himself as very much honoured by this commission, and haunted
the Palace of Chevreuse so diligently that I did not doubt but that he
was sent thither to act the second part of the comedy which had
miscarried so shamefully in the hands of M. de Candale. I watched all
his movements, and complained to Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, but she gave
me indirect answers. I began to be out of humour, and was soon appeased.
I grew peevish again; and Mademoiselle de Chevreuse saying in his
presence, to please me and to sting him, that she could not imagine how
it was possible to bear a silly fellow, "Pardon me, mademoiselle,"
replied I, "we suffer fops sometimes very patiently for the sake of their
extravagances." This man was notoriously foppish and extravagant. My
answer pleased, and we soon got rid of him at the Palace of Chevreuse.
But he thought to have despatched me, for he hired one Grandmaison, a
ruffian, to assassinate me, who apprised me of his design. The first
time I met M. d'Aumale, which was at the Duc d'Orleans's house, I did not
fail to let him know it; but I told it him in a whisper, saying that I
had too much respect for the House of Savoy to publish it to the world.
He denied the fact, but in such a manner as to make it more evident,
because he conjured me to keep it secret. I gave him my word, and I kept
it.

Madame de Guemenee, with whom I had several quarrels, proposed to the
Queen likewise to despatch me, by shutting me up in a greenhouse in her
garden, which she might easily have done, because I often went to her
alone by night; but the Cardinal, fearing that the people would have
suspected him as the author of my sudden disappearance, would not enter
into the project, so it was dropped.

To return to our negotiations for the freedom of the Princes. The Duc
d'Orleans was with much difficulty induced to sign the treaty by which a
marriage was stipulated between Mademoiselle de Chevreuse and the Prince
de Conti, and to promise not to oppose my promotion to the dignity of a
cardinal. The Princes were as active in the whole course of these
negotiations as if they had been at liberty. We wrote to them, and they
to us, and a regular correspondence between Paris and Lyons was never
better established than ours. Bar,

[Bar was, according to M. Joly, an unsociable man, who was for
raising his fortune by using the Princes badly, and who, on this
account, was often the dupe of Montreuil, secretary to the Prince de
Conti.--See JOLY'S "Memoirs," vol. i., p. 88.]

their warder, was a very shallow fellow; besides, men of sense are
sometimes outwitted.

Cardinal Mazarin, upon his return with the King from Guienne, was greatly
pleased with the acclamations of the mob, but he soon grew weary of them,
for the Frondeurs still kept the wall.

The Cardinal being continually provoked at Paris by the Abbe Fouquet, who
sought to make himself necessary, and being so vain as to think himself
qualified to command an army, marched abruptly out of Paris for
Champagne, with a design to retake Rhetel and Chateau-Portien, of which
the enemy were possessed, and where M. de Turenne proposed to winter.

On the feast of Saint Martin, the First President and the Attorney-
General Talon exhorted the Parliament to be peaceable, that the enemies
of the State might have no advantage. A petition was read from Madame la
Princesse, desiring that the Princes should be brought to the Louvre and
remain in the custody, of one of the King's officers, and that the
Solicitor-General be sent for to say what he had to allege against their
innocence, and that in case he should have nothing solid to offer they be
set at liberty.

The Chambers, being assembled on the 7th of December, to take the affair
into consideration, Talon, the Attorney-General, informed the House that
the Queen had sent for the King's Council, and ordered them to let the
Parliament know that it was her pleasure that the House should not take
any cognisance of the Princess's petition, because everything that had
relation to the confinement of the Princes belonged to the royal
authority. Talon made a motion that the Parliament should depute some
members to carry the petition to the Queen, and to beseech her Majesty to
take it into her consideration. At the same time another petition was
presented from Mademoiselle de Longueville, for the liberty of the Duke
her father, and that she might have leave to stay in Paris to solicit it.

No sooner was this petition read than a letter from the three Princes was
presented and read, praying that they might be brought to trial or set at
liberty.

On the 9th day of the month an order was brought to the Parliament from
the King, commanding the House to suspend all deliberations on this
subject till they had first sent their deputies to Court to know his
Majesty's pleasure.

Deputies were sent immediately, to whom, accordingly, the Queen gave
audience in bed, telling them that she was very much indisposed. The
Keeper of the Seals added that it was the King's pleasure that the
Parliament should not meet at all until such time as the Queen his mother
had recovered her health.

On the 10th the House resolved to adjourn only to the 14th, and on that
day a general procession was proposed to the Archbishop by the Dean of
Parliament, to beg that God would inspire them with such counsels only as
might be for the good of the public.

On the 14th they received the King's letter, forbidding their debates,
and informing them that the Queen would satisfy them very speedily about
the affair of the Princes; but this letter was disregarded. They sent a
deputation to invite the Duc d'Orleans to come to the House, but, after
consulting with the Queen, he told the deputies that he did not care to
go, that the Assembly was too noisy, that he could not divine what they
would be at, that the affairs in debate were never known to fall under
their cognisance, and that they had nothing else to do but to refer the
said petitions to the Queen.

On the 18th news came that Marechal du Plessis had gained a signal
victory over M. de Turenne, who was coming to succour Rhetel, but found
it already surrendered to Marechal du Plessis; and the Spanish garrison,
endeavouring to retreat, was forced to an engagement on the plains of
Saumepuis; that about 2,000 men were killed upon the spot, among the rest
a brother of the Elector Palatine, and six colonels, and that there were
nearly 4,000 prisoners, the most considerable of whom were several
persons of note, and all the colonels, besides twenty colours and eighty-
four standards. You may easily guess at the consternation of the
Princes' party; my house was all night filled with the lamentations of
despairing mourners, and I found the Duc d'Orleans, as it were, struck
dumb.

On the 19th, as I went to the Parliament House, the people looked
melancholy, dejected, and frightened out of their wits. The members were
afraid to open their mouths, and nobody would mention the name of Mazarin
except Menardeau Champre, who spoke of him with encomiums, by giving him
the honour of the victory of Rhetel, and then he moved the House to
entreat the Queen to put the Princes into the hands of that good and wise
Minister, who would be as careful of them as he had been hitherto of the
State. I wondered most of all that this man was not hissed in the House,
and especially as he passed through the Great Hall. This circumstance,
together with what I saw that afternoon in every street, convinced me how
much our friends were dispirited, and I therefore resolved next day to
raise their courage. I knew the First President to be purblind, and such
men greedily swallow every new fact which confirms them in their first
impression. I knew likewise the Cardinal to be a man that supposed
everybody had a back door. The only way of dealing with men of that
stamp is to make them believe that you design to deceive those whom you
earnestly endeavour to serve.

For this reason, on the 20th, I declaimed against the disorders of the
State, and showed that it having pleased Almighty God to bless his
Majesty's arms and to remove the public enemy from our frontiers by the
victory gained over them by Marechal du Plessis, we ought now to apply
ourselves seriously to the healing of internal wounds of the State, which
are the more dangerous because they are less obvious. To this I thought
fit to add that I was obliged to mention the general oppression of the
subjects at a time when we had nothing more to fear from the lately
routed Spaniards; that, as one of the props of the public safety was the
preservation of the royal family, I could not without the utmost concern
see the Princes breathe the unwholesome air of Havre-de-Grace, and that I
was of opinion that the House should humbly entreat the King to remove
them, at least to some place more healthy. At this speech everybody
regained their courage and concluded that all was not yet lost. It was
observed that the people's countenances were altered. Those in the Great
Hall resumed their former zeal, made the usual acclamations as we went
out, and I had that day three hundred carriages of visitors.

On the 22d the debate was continued, and it was more and more observed
that the Parliament did not follow the triumphant chariot of Cardinal
Mazarin, whose imprudence in hazarding the fate of the whole kingdom in
the last battle was set off with all the disadvantages that could be
invented to tarnish the victory.

The 30th crowned the work, and produced a decree for making most humble
remonstrances to the Queen for the liberty of the Princes and for
Mademoiselle de Longueville staying in Paris.

It was further resolved to send a deputation to the Duc d'Orleans, to
desire his Royal Highness to use his interest on this occasion in favour
of the said Princes.

The King's Council having waited on her Majesty with the remonstrances
aforesaid, she pretended to be under medical treatment, and put off the
matter a week longer. The Duc d'Orleans also gave an ambiguous answer.
The Queen's course of treatment continued eight or ten days longer than
she imagined, or, rather, than she said, and consequently the
remonstrances of the Parliament were not made till the 20th of January,
1651.

On the 28th the First President made his report, and said the Queen had
promised to return an answer in a few days.

It happened very luckily for us at this time that the imprudence of the
Cardinal was greater than the inconstancy of the Duc d'Orleans, for a
little before the Queen returned an answer to the remonstrances, he
talked very roughly to the Duke in the Queen's presence, charging him
with putting too much confidence in me. The very day that the Queen made
the aforesaid answer he spoke yet more arrogantly to the Duke in her
Majesty's apartment, comparing M. de Beaufort and myself to Cromwell and
Fairfax in the House of Commons in England, and exclaimed furiously in
the King's presence, so that he frightened the Duke, who was glad he got
out of the King's Palace with a whole skin, and who said that he would
never put himself again in the power of that furious woman, meaning the
Queen, because she had improved on what the Cardinal had said to the
King. I resolved to strike the iron while it was hot, and joined with M.
de Beaufort to persuade his Royal Highness to declare himself the next
day in Parliament. We showed him that, after what had lately passed,
there was no safety for his person, and if the King should go out of
Paris, as the Cardinal designed, we should be engaged in a civil war,
whereof he alone, with the city of Paris, must bear the heavy load; that
it would be equally scandalous and dangerous for his Royal Highness
either to leave the Princes in chains, after having treated with them,
or, by his dilatory proceedings, suffer Mazarin to have all the honour of
setting them at liberty, and that he ought by all means to go to the
Parliament House.

The Duchess, too, seconded us, and upon his Highness saying that if he
went to the House to declare against the Court the Cardinal would be sure
to take his Majesty out of Paris, the Duchess replied, "What, monsieur,
are you not Lieutenant-General of France? Do not you command the army?
Are you not master of the people? I myself will undertake that the King
shall not go out of Paris." The Duke nevertheless remained inflexible,
and all we could get out of him was that he would consent to my telling
the Parliament, in his name, what we desired he should say himself. In a
word, he would have me make the experiment, the success of which he
looked upon to be very uncertain, because he thought the Parliament would
have nothing to say against the Queen's answer, and that if I succeeded
he should reap the honour of the proposition. I readily accepted the
commission, because all was at stake, and if I had not executed it the
next morning I am sure the Cardinal would have eluded setting the Princes
at liberty a great while longer, and the affair have ended in a
negotiation with them against the Duke.

The Duchess, who saw that I exposed myself for the public good, pitied me
very much. She did all she could to persuade the Duke to command me to
mention to the Parliament what the Cardinal had told the King with
relation to Cromwell, Fairfax and the English Parliament, which, if
declared in the Duke's name, she thought would excite the House the more
against Mazarin; and she was certainly in the right. But he forbade me
expressly.

I ran about all night to incite the members at their first meeting to
murmur at the Queen's answer, which in the main was very plausible,
importing that, though this affair did not fall within the cognisance of
Parliament, the Queen would, however, out of her abundant goodness, have
regard to their supplications and restore the Princes to liberty.
Besides, it promised a general amnesty to all who had borne arms in their
favour, on condition only that M. de Turenne should lay down his arms,
that Madame de Longueville should renounce her treaty with Spain, and
that Stenai and Murzon should be evacuated.

At first the Parliament seemed to be dazzled with it, but next day, the
1st of February, the whole House was undeceived, and wondered how it had
been so deluded. The Court of Inquests began to murmur; Viole stood up
and said that the Queen's answer was but a snare laid for the Parliament
to beguile them; that the 12th of March, the time fixed for the King's
coronation, was just at hand; and that as soon as the Court was out of
Paris they, would laugh at the Parliament. At this discourse the old and
new Fronde stood up, and when I saw they, were greatly excited I waved
my, cap and said that the Duke had commanded me to inform the House that
the regard he had for their sentiments having confirmed him in those he
always naturally, entertained of his cousins, he was resolved to concur
with them for procuring their liberty, and to contribute everything in
his power to effect it; and it is incredible what influence these few
words had upon the whole assembly. I was astonished at it myself. The
wisest senators seemed as mad as the common people, and the people madder
than ever. Their acclamations exceeded anything you can imagine, and,
indeed, nothing less was sufficient to give heart to the Duke, who had
all night been bringing forth new projects with more sorrowful pangs and
throes (as the Duchess expressed it) than ever she had felt when in
labour with all her children.

When he was fully informed of the good success of his declaration, he
embraced me several times before all the company, and M. Tellier going to
wait upon him from the Queen, to know if he acknowledged what I had said
in his name in the House, "Yes," replied he, "I own, and always will own,
all that he shall say or act in my name." We thought that after a solemn
declaration of this nature the Duke would not scruple to take all the
necessary precautions to prevent the Cardinal carrying away the King, and
to that end the Duchess did propose to have all the gates of the city
well guarded, under pretence of some popular tumults. But he was deaf to
all she said, pretending that he was loth to make his King a prisoner.

On the 2d of February, 1651, the Duke, urged very importunately by the
Princes' party informing him that their liberty depended on it, told them
that he was going to perform an action which would remove all their
diffidence. He sent immediately for the Keeper of the Seals, Marechal
Villeroi; and Tellier, and bade them tell the Queen that he would never
come to the Palais Royal as long as Mazarin was there, and that he could
no longer treat with a man that ruined the State. And, then, turning
towards Marechal Villeroi, "I charge you," said he, "with the King's
person; you shall be answerable for him to me." I was sadly afraid this
would be a means to hasten the King's departure, which was what we
dreaded most of all, and I wondered that the Cardinal did not remove
after such a declaration. I thought his head was turned, and indeed I
was told that he was beside himself for a fortnight together.

The Duke having openly declared against Mazarin, and being resolved to
attack and drive him out of the kingdom, bade me inform the House next
day, in his name, how the Cardinal had compared their body to the Rump
Parliament in England, and some of their members to Cromwell and Fairfax.
I improved upon this as much as possible, and I daresay that so much heat
and ferment was never seen in any society before. Some were for sending
the Cardinal a personal summons to appear on the spot, to give an account
of his administration; but the most moderate were for making most humble
remonstrances to the Queen for his removal. You may easily guess what a
thunderclap this must have been to the Court. The Queen asked the Duke
whether she might bring the Cardinal to his Royal Highness. His answer
was that he did not think it good for the safety of his own person. She
offered to come alone to confer with his Highness at the Palais
d'Orleans, but he excused himself with a great deal of respect.

He sent orders an hour after to the Marshals of France to obey him only,
as Lieutenant-General of the State, and likewise to the 'prevots des
marchands' not to take up arms except by his authority. You will wonder,
without doubt, that after all this noise no care was taken of the gates
of Paris to prevent the King's departure. The Duchess, who trembled at
the thoughts of it, daily redoubled her endeavours to induce the Duke to
secure the gates of the city, but all to no purpose; for weak minds are
generally deficient in some respect or other.

On the 4th the Duke came to the Parliament and assured the assembly of
his concurrence in everything to reform the State and to procure the
liberty of the Princes and the Cardinal's removal. As soon as his Royal
Highness had done speaking, the Master of the Ceremonies was admitted
with a letter from the King, which was read, and which required the House
to separate, and to send as many deputies as they could to the Palais
Royal to hear the King's will and pleasure. Deputies were accordingly
sent immediately, for whose return the bulk of the members stayed in the
Great Chamber. I was informed that this was one trick among others
concerted to ruin me, and, telling the Duc d'Orleans of it, he said that
if the old buffoon, the Keeper of the Seals, was concerned in such a
complication of folly and knavery, he deserved to be hanged by the side
of Mazarin. But the sequel showed that I was not out in my information.

As soon as the deputies were come to the Palais Royal, the First
President told the Queen that the Parliament was extremely concerned that
the Princes were still confined, notwithstanding her royal promise for
setting them at liberty. The Queen replied that Marchal de Grammont was
sent to release them and to see to their necessary security for the
public tranquillity, but that she had sent for them in relation to
another affair, which the Keeper of the Seals would explain to them, and
which he couched in a sanguinary manifesto, in substance as follows:

"All the reports made by the Coadjutor in Parliament are false, and
invented by him. He lies!" (This is the only word the Queen added to
what was already written). "He is a very wicked, dangerous man, and
gives the Duke very pernicious advice; he wants to ruin the State because
we have refused to make him cardinal, and has publicly boasted that he
will set fire to the four corners of the kingdom, and that he will have
100,000 men in readiness to dash out the brains of those that shall
attempt to put it out." These expressions were very harsh, and I am sure
that I never said anything like that; but it was of no use at this time
to make the cloud which was gathering over the head of Mazarin fall in a
storm upon mine. The Court saw that Parliament was assembled to pass a
decree for setting the Princes at liberty, and that the Duke in person
was declaring against Mazarin in the Grand Chamber, and therefore they
believed that a diversion would be as practicable as it was necessary,
namely, to bring me upon my trial in such a manner that the Parliament
could not refuse nor secure me from the railleries of the most
inconsiderable member. Everything that tended to render the attack
plausible was made use of, as well as everything that might weaken my
defence. The writing was signed by the four Secretaries of State, and,
the better to defeat all that I could say in my justification, the Comte
de Brienne was sent at the heels of the deputies with an order to desire
the Duc d'Orleans to come to a conference with the Queen in relation to
some few difficulties that remained concerning the liberty of the
Princes.

When the deputies had returned to Parliament, the First President began
with reading the paper which had been delivered to him against me, upon
which you might have read astonishment in every face. Menardeau, who was
to open the trenches against me, was afraid of a salvo from the Great
Hall, where he found such a crowd of people, and heard so many
acclamations to the Fronde, and so many imprecations against Mazarin,
that he durst not open his mouth against me, but contented himself with a
pathetic lamentation of the division that was in the State, and
especially in the royal family. The councillors were so divided that
some of them were for appointing public prayers for two days; others
proposed to desire his Royal Highness to take care of the public safety.
I resolved to treat the writing drawn up against me by the Cardinal as a
satire and a libel, and, by some ingenious, short passage, to arouse the
minds of my hearers. As my memory did not furnish me with anything in


 


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