CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 082 193 552 IntfiHihmrv ^(^ E DUE iuMfn n lBo3 h ^l r l\l u CATLORO PRINTKOINU.ft.A. The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924082193552 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE Volume I. VERSAILLES EDlTieN Limited to Eight Hundred Numbered Sets, of which this is No.. .1.^.1. /^./..... J M.//...//4' MEMOIRS MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE ON ANNE OF AUSTRIA AND HER COURT. WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY C.-A. SAINTE-BEUVE. SCtBitsIateS tig KATHARINE PRESCOTT WORMELEY. ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS FROM THE ORIGINAL. IN THREE VOLUMES. Vol. I. BOSTON: HARDY, PRATT & COMPANY. 1901. -/, Copyright 1901, By Hardy, Pratt & Company. All rights reserved. 1.18:^638 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U. S. A. CONTENTS. Page Introduction by C.-A. Sainte-Beuve 1 Translator's Note .... 21 Preface . . . .... 23 CHAPTER I.— 1611-1630. Flouriahing state of the kingdom at the death of Henri TV. — Evil in- fluence of the Marechal d'Ancre. — His murder. — Majority of Louis XIII. — Marriage of Philip IV. of Spain to Elisabeth of France, and of Louis XIII. with Anne of Austria. — Toilet of the latter. — Portrait of Louis XIII. — Intrigues of the Due de Luynes. — Vexations of Anne of Austria. — Death of de Luynes. — Passion of the Duke of Buckingham for the queen. — Madame de Che- vreuse. — Persecution of Cardinal Richelieu against Anne of Austria, and his love for her. — Her hatred aud contempt for him. — His policy. — The queen's fear of heing repudiated. — Madame de Motteville sent away from the queen. — Portrait of the queen at that time. — Portraits of the most remarkable women at Court . . 25 CHAPTER n. — 1630-1643. Hatred of Marie de' Medici against Cardinal Richelieu. — The " Day of the Dupes " and its consequences. — Arrest of Marie de' Medici at Compiegne, and her escape to Flanders. — Mademoiselle de Haute- fort. — Slavery of Louis XIII. to Cardinal Richelieu. — His melan- choly life at Saint-Germain. — Anne of Austria ueglected. — Incli- nation of the king for Mademoiselle de La Fayette ; she becomes a nun; singular and affecting romance. — Birth of Louis XIV., Septembers, 1638. — Reconciliation of king and queen. — Death of Cardinal Richelieu, December 4, 1642. — His portrait. — The courtiers cluster round Anne of Austria. — The king opens the prisons and allows the exiles to return. — Makes Cardinal Mazarin his minister. — Louis XIII. in the last days of his life. — Declara- tion to his council on the regency . — Anne of Austria swears to observe it. — Details on death of Louis XIH., May 14, 1643. His portrait ^ , 47 VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER in.— 1643-1644. Page Regency of Anne of Austria. — Arrival of queen with the young king in Paris. — Goes to parliament with the king and the princes of the blood. — Speech of the chancellor, Se'guier. — The Due d'Orle'ans and the Prince de Conde accept the regency unreservedly. — Dis- missal of Chavigny. — The Duchesse d'AiguiUon allowed to keep the government of Havre. — Dissatisfaction of the Prince de Marsillac. — Mazarin prime minister. — The queen persuaded to confide in him. — The Due d'Enghien (the Great Conde) wins the battle of Eocroy. — Mazarin's policy cleverly beneficent. — He persuades the queen to protect the relatives and friends of Richelieu. — His grow- ing favour with the queen. — Intrigues of the Vendome cabal. — The Duchesse de Montbazon. — Affair of a letter attributed to Madame de Longueville. — The queen grants them justice for the outrage of Madame de Montbazon. — dismissal of the latter from Court. — The Due de Beaufort ; accused of intending to murder Mazarin. — His dismissal and imprisonment. — Exile of " the Im- portants.'' — Unkind dismissal of the Bishop of Beauvais. — Madame de Chevreuse irritates the queen, and is relegated to Tours. — She leaves France. — Madame de Hautefort ; her hatred to Car- dinal Mazarin. — Her imprudence, dismissal, and despair .... 70 CHAPTER IV.— 1644-1645. The council of conscience. — Saint Vincent de Paul. — Complete power of Cardinal Mazarin. — His influence on the queen's mind. — Changes in the civil service. — Private life of the queen ; tastes, feelings, character, and disposition of her miud at forty years of age. — The Due d'Orle'ans commands the army of Flanders; the Due d'Enghien that of Germany. — First agitation in parliament. President BariUou sent to Pignerol. — The parliament goes to the Palais-Royal to remonstrate. — The queen refuses to receive them. — Stay of the Court at Euel. — Voiture's impromptu verses. — Henri IH.'s opinion of Paris. — Death of Pope XJrbain VIII. — Arrival of Queen Henrietta of England, wife of Charles I., in consequence of the English revolution. — Sorrows and sufferings of that princess. — Affectionate reception of her by Anne of Austria. — Death of Elisabeth of France, Queen of Spain ; her portrait ; regrets at her death. — Squabbles for precedence between Mademoi- selle and the Princesse de Conde and Duchesse d'Enghien. — Anger of the queen against Mademoiselle. — Arrival of the Queen of England in Paris ; her portrait 102 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER v. — 1645-1646. Page The battle of Nordlingen won by the Due d'Enghien. — Emotion caused by the losses there made. — Noble words of the cardinal on that occasion. — The queen and the young ting go to parliament in state. — Beauty and fine presence of the queen at this ceremony. — Grace of the king when addressing the assembly. — Bold harangue of the advocate-general, Omer Talon. — Impression it made on the mind of the queen. — Mademoiselle de Eohan marries Chabot against the opposition of her family. — Marriage of the King of Poland to Princesse Marie of Mantua. — Brilliant Polish embassy on this occasion. — Portrait of the new Queen of Poland. — Her disappointment on arriving at Warsaw. Portrait of the king, her husband ; his brutal reception of her 124 CHAPTER VT. — 1646-1647. Conduct of the queen towards her servants ; treats them well, but does not concern herself about their interests. — Education of Louis XTV. — The queen gives the management of it to Cardinal Mazarin. — Dismissal of Mademoiselle de Beaumont exacted by the cardinal. — Madame de Motteville is threatened with the loss of her position. — The queen reassures her. — Interview between Madame de Motte- ville and the cardinal on this subject. — Ambition and policy of the Due d'Enghien. — Prudent policy of the Prince and Princesse de Conde. — Amusements of the Conrt at Pontainebleau. — War in Planders ; the taking of Courtray ; the siege of Mardick. — Loss of life. — The queen's remark on the Due d'Enghien (the Great Conde). — The Due d'Orle'ans quits the army, and leaves the com- mand to the Due d'Enghien [September, 1646]. — Embassy from the Queen of Sweden received at Pontainebleau. — Portrait of that queen. — MQitary successes. — Death and portrait of Bassompierre. — Intrigues and ambition of the Due d'Enghien. — Death of the Prince de Conde, December 26, 1646. — Portrait of that prince . . 144 CHAPTER VIL — 1647. Anne of Austria's taste for the theatre. — The rector of Saint-Germain speaks against this amusement. — Seven doctors of the Sorbonne condemn it, ten tolerate it. — Peace between Holland and Spain. — Decided by the greed of the Princess of Orange. — The Great Conde and his petit-maitres. — Cardinal JIazarin gives a fete to the Court. — Ball at Court ; description of the ball. — Dress and appear- ance of Louis XIV., aged eight, at this ball. — Toilets of other Till CONTENTS. Page personages. — Shabby supper given by Cardinal Mazarin to the queen's women. — Departure of the Prince de Conde for Catalonia. — His portrait. — Death of the Prince of Orange. — The King of England betrayed by the Scotch. — Quarrels about grace. — Molin- ists and Jansenists ; the blame which the latter deserve. — Anne of Austria supports the Jesuits. — Journey of the Due and Duchesse d'Orl&ns to Bourbon. — Singular character of the duchess ; her portrait. — Portrait of the Due d'OrMans. — Devotions of Anne of Austria at the Val-de-Grace. — Return to Paris of Madame de LongueviUe. — Slie occupies almost the entire attention of the Coart. — Her intimacy with the Prince de MarsiUac. — Her por- trait. — Reasons of the queen's coldness to her. — Capacity and activity of Cardinal Mazarin. — His defects 168 CHAPTER Vni. — 1647. Desires for peace. — Mazarin suspected of not wishing it. — Murmurs in Paris at the conduct of the war. — Many of the malcontents exiled. — Short stay of the Court at Dieppe ; attachment of the inhabitants to the king's person. — Return of the Court to Paris. — Illness of the Due d'Anjou, the little Monsieur. — Portrait of that young prince. — Opposition of the parliament to a tax on provisions. — Conference at the Palais-Royal on this subject. — The tax is voted. — Arrival at the Court of the Mancini. — Their portraits. — Cour(ier- ship of the Comte de Nogent. — His wife presents the Mancini chil- dren to the queen. — The Mazarin family little thought of in Rome. Harshness of the queen to the Duchesse de Schomberg. — Depart- ure of the queen for Fontainebleau. — Hl-will of Cardinal Mazarin to Madame de Motteville. — The queen comforts her. — Upright- ness of Anne of Austria. — Her piety embarrasses the cardinal. — Evil consequences of her weakness towards the minister. — Abil- ity of the cardinal. — The Prince of Wales, son of Charles I., visits the king and queen at Fontainebleau. — Stiffness of the prince and Louis XIV. when together. — Return of the Court to Paris. — The king falls ill with small-pox, November, 1647. — Peril of the king ; agony of the queen. — Characteristics of the young monarch. — His recovery. — Delicate behaviour of the Prince de Conde. — The queen seized with fever, but recovers quickly. — Her feelings during her illness. — She spends Christmas at the Val-de-Grlce. — The king's recovery brings back the ladies who had fled the Court. — The little king's reproaches to them. — Bad disposition of all minds at the close of the year 1647 194 CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER IX. — 1648. Pagb The Court. — Anne of Austria's indolence. — Uprising of the merchants of Paris against a tax. — Mutiny of the masters of petitions. — Coun- cil in the queen's room on this occasion. — The burghers hecome excited. — Failure of attempt of women to address the queen. — Dis- play of troops in Paris. — The king goes to Notre Dame ; also to parliament. — Vigorous speech of Omer Talon. — The courtiers de- stroy its effect on the queen. — Bitterness of the public mind. — Pen- ury of the Court. — The masters of petitions resent an edict. — Parliament receiyes their complaint. — Displeasure of the queen. — The Due d'Orleans and the Prince de Conde support the queen. — The Court during the holidays. — Murmurs against Mazarin. — The Dutch make peace with Spain. — Delay and resistance of par- liament. — The queen goes to Chartres. — Arrest of Saujeon. — Mademoiselle reprimanded. — Madame de Motteville helps to reconcile her with her father. — Cold treatment of her by the queen 21J CHAPTER X. — 1648. Difficulties with parliament. — The paw/cWe. — Decree of union of aU the supreme courts with parliament. — Indignation of the queen. — Methodical resistance of parliament. — Determination to raise an opposition to Mazarin. —The Duke of York escapes from England and comes to France. — Parliament forbidden to meet. — Exile of members and of the courts. — Escape of the Due de Beaufort. — The queen consoled, but Mazarin uneasy at the escape. — The queen visits the queen of England. — The jubilee. — Conversation of the queen in the garden of the Palais-Eoyal. — Assembling of parlia- ment against the will of the queen. — Speech of President de Mesmes. — The queen complains. — The cardinal tries gentleness with the grand council and the cour des aides. — The qneen walks in the Holy Sacrament. — She releases from prison a spy on President de Mesmes. — Five treasurers of France imprisoned. — Parliament deliberates on king's order, annulling its decree of union with the other courts. — Meets with the deputies of the other courts in the Chamber of Saint-Louis. — Parliament summoned to the Palais- Eoyal June 16. — Another decree of the king in council. — Resist- ance of parliament. — Speech of Omer Talon. — The queen disposed to severity. — The cardinal's concessions- — They diminish the royal authority. — Death of the King of Poland. — Audacity of parlia- ment increases. — Depression of the cardinal. — Propositions of X CONTENTS. Page parliament and the other courts. — Conference proposed by Due d'Orle'ans. — Advances of the cardinal to parliament. — D'Emery, superintendent of finances, dismissed. — The Marechal de Meille- raye appointed in his place 242 CHAPTER XL — 1648. Impoverished condition of the Court and kingdom. — Conference of ministers and parliament. — Shameful proposal as to loans. — Good-will of parliament to the Due d'Orle'ans. — Bitter distress of the queen. — Blames the cardinal. — The latter alarmed at the state of things. — Poverty of the Queen of England. — The king yields everything to parliament. — Reflections on the right of remon- strance. — General revolt of the parliaments. — The Prince de Conde comes to Paris. — Annoyance of the Due d'Orleans at his return. — The prince returns to the army. — Taking of Tortosa by Marechal Schomberg. — Fresh remonstrances of parliament. — The queen resolves to endure no more. — Goes to parliament. — Declara- tion of the king. — Appearance of the young king. — Coolness of the people towards him. — Mazarin's system of moderation. — The discussion in parliament becomes factious. — The Due d'Orleans moderates it. — Anger of the provinces against the minister and the queen. — The queen upholds the minister, and why. — Her charity and good works. — Allowed by the minister to want for money. — The king and cardinal go to vespers at the Peuillants. — Bloody quarrel between the king's Guards and the guards of the grand provost. — The result. — Honourable conduct of Charost and Chan- denier. — Dismissal of all the captains of the Guard. — Continuation of the struggle between the Court and parliament. — The battle of Lens 280 CHAPTER Xn. — 1648. The Te Deum at Notre Dame. — Arrest of Broussel, Blancmesnil, and Charton, — Eiot and barricades in Paris. — The insurgents respect the coadjutor [de Retz]. — Confidence of the queen. — She refuses the release of Broussel. — Alarm of Madame de Motteville. — The chief president compelled by populace to ask for Broussel's release. — The queen refuses it. — Danger run by Chancellor Seguier. — Condition of the streets of Paris. — Vigorous firmness of the queen in receiving parliament. — The populace compels parliament to go a third time to the queen and demand Broussel. — Firm answer of the queen. — The members consult at the Palais-Eoyal. — Mazarin makes them a weak and halting speech, which is ridiculed. — Prom- CONTENTS. SI Page ise of transient obedience. — Broussel is released. — Humiliation of the queen. — Regret of honest Frenchmen. — Discipline of the burgher army. — Uprising of the people. — An anxious night. — Personal fears and precautions of the cardinal. — Broussel received in triumph. — The burghers refuse to lower the barricades unless by order of parliament. — Parliament gives the order. — A small inci- dent raises them once more. — Anxiety of the queen. — She orders the Guards to their quarters, which does not quiet the populace. — Terrible alarm at night. — Threat of the burghers to seize the king. — Courage and firmness of the queen. — Her fine words. — Coward- ice of Mazarin. — The excitement of the people quiets down . . . 313 CHAPTER Xni. — 1648. Quiet in Paris. — Dissatisfaction of the coadjutor. — Secret ambition of the Due d'OrMans. — The queen begins to distrust him. — Thinks of turning for help to Prince de Conde. — Illness of the Due d'Anjou, the little Monsieur. — Parliament renews its persecutions. — The queen thanks the burghers for guarding the city. — Yields to the new demands of parliament. — Conciliatory policy of the minister. — Prince de Conde wounded at Fumes. — The Court retires to Euel. — The queen's good judgment and courage. — The Prince de Cond^ desires to return to Paris to support the king and queen. — The queen consents. — Speculative minds suggest the blockade of Paris. — Exile of Chateauneuf and arrest of Chavigny. — Fidelity of Commander de Jars to his friend. — Fontrailles escapes imprison- ment by flight. — Parliament demands the return of the king to Paris and the dismissal of the minister. — Return of the Prince de Conde'. — Queen's speech at Ruel to a deputation from parliament. — She refuses their demands and the princes support her. — Re- moval of the little Monsieur from Paris. — The Court goes to Saint-Germain. — The king issues a decree forbidding parliament to assemble. — Alarm in Paris. — Letters of the Due d'Orle'ans and the Prince de Conde' to parliament proposing a conference. — Par- liament stipulates that Mazarin shall be excluded from it. — Speeches of the princes of the blood sustaining the authority of the king. — Demands of parliament. — Concessions of the queen. — Both parties only half satisfied. — The Duchesse de Vendome in- vokes the protection of parliament against Mazarin 338 INDEX 369 LIST OF PHOTOGRAVURE ILLUSTRATIONS. Fase MoTTEViLLB, Feancoise Bertaud, Madame de . . . Frontispiece By Largillifere ; Portraits Nationaux. Chapter I. Buckingham, George Villieks, Duke oe . .... 32 Drawing by Rubens ; Vienna. II. Eichelieu, Armand-Jean-Duplessis, Cardinal de . . . . 62 By Philippe de Charapaigne ; Louvre. III. Anne of Austria . . 70 This portrait was made on her arrival in France to be married to Louis XIIL By Frauz Porbus ; IVIaitres Anciens. IV. Henrietta-Maria, Queen op England . 116 By Van Dyck ; Dresden. VI. Christina, Queen of Sweden . ... . . . 160 From a contemporary print by Peter Aubry. XI. Mazarin, Jules, Cardinal 290 By Pierre Mignard ; Chantilly. FAC-SIMILE LETTER. VII. Anne op Austria to the Prince de Conde (the Great Conde) .... . .187 INTRODUCTION. Bt c.-a. sainte-beuve. Let us repose awhile with Madame de Motteville, the writer of these judicious Memoirs, — with that wise and reasonable mind which saw very closely the things of her day, and estimated and described them in such perfect pro- portion and with an accuracy so agreeable. When the Memoirs of Madame de Motteville appeared for the first time, in 1723, the journalists and critics of that day, while praising their tone of sincerity, deemed that they gave too many miuute details, too many little facts. This was the opinion of not only the " Journal de Tr^voux " and the " Jour- nal des Savants," but it was that of Voltaire himself. "We no longer think so. These little facts, belonging to an old and vanished society which they represent to us with abso- lute truth, please us and fasten our attention : at a short distance they might seem superabundant and superfluous ; at a greater distance they become both new and interesting. And besides, while Madame de Motteville, keeping to her woman's rOle and telling nothing that she does not know of her own knowledge, never attempts to penetrate cabinet secrets (though she divines some of them very well indeed), she pictures to the life the general spirit of all situations and the moral character of the personages. It is this lasting side that time has more clearly brought forth, placing her hence- forth in a rank both distinguished and well-established. Madame de Motteville, born about 1621, her maiden name being Frangoise Bertaut, was the niece of a bishop-poet, VOL. I. — 1 ^ INTRODtrCTION. illustrious in Ms day and still remarkable for sentiment and elegance; the same Bertaut whom Boileau praised for his reserve, and Eonsard judged to be "too virtuous a poet." I remark at once on this basis of virtue, which seems to have been inherent in the race. Madame de Motteville had a younger sister who was called from her infancy Socratine, on account of her austerity, which ended by making her a Carmelite. This austerity, much softened and adorned in the elder sister, deserved in her the name of reason and good sense ; and it was thus that those who knew her only by reputation spoke of her. " M^lise may pass for one of the most sensible precieuses of the island of Delos," says the " Grand Dictionnaire des Precieuses." Mademoiselle Bertaut had received a very careful and very literary education. Her father, Pierre Bertaut, was gentleman-in-ordinary of the king's bed-chamber. Her mother, who came of a noble family in Spain and had lived her youth in that country, was noticed by Aime of Austria in the early days after the queen's arrival in France. Knowing Spanish as her own language, she was employed by the queen for her family correspondence and treated as a friend. She profited by this favour to give, as they said in those days, meaning to attach to the queen's service, her daughter, then seven years old (1628). But Cardinal Riche- lieu, always uneasy about the queen's surroundings and anxious to cut off her communications with Spain, removed the little girl, — an act to which Aime of Austria strongly objected. To all her complaiuts " they answered," so Madame de Motteville tells us, "that my mother was half Spanish, that she had much intelligence, that already I spoke Spanish and might resemble her." Madame Bertaut accordingly took her daughter, now ten years old, to Normandy, where she completed her education with care. The young girl INTEODUCTION. 3 still received an annual payment of six hundred livres from the queen, and in 1639 she was thought worthy, for her beauty and good reputation, to be married to M. Langlois de Motteville, president of the Chamber of Accounts of Xor- mandy, who made her his third wife. " This was an ill- assorted marriage," says the " Journal de Savants " (January, 172-t) ; " the president was eighty years old, and the wife only eighteen. It is said that she wearied of her half of the bed, so that sometimes after the goodman went to sleep she made her waitiug-maid take her place, and the old man never found it out." If this detail, stated by a grave journal, is correct, it was the liveliest piece of giddiness of Madame de Motteville's life. Her nature, calm and imimpassioned, seems never to have suffered from such a marriage. " In the year 1839, having married M. de Motteville," she says, "I found much comfort, with an abundance of everything ; and if I had been willing to profit by the friendship he had for me and receive the advantages he could and would have given me, I should have been rich after his death." But she neglected these views of self-interest, and, like all others exiled from Court, she thought only of the hope held out by the coming death of the cardinal, at which time she expected her return to favour. On the death of the cardinal and that of the king, one of the queen's first acts was to recall all those who had been dismissed on account of their love for her, and Madame de Motteville was among them. She was henceforth attached to the queen, less as woman-iQ-waiting (which was her title) than as one of the persons of her daily intercourse and intimacy. "Wise, discreet, and punctual, of a gentle but playful mind, a curiosity both serious and readily amused, with an observing eye that did not seek to be pierciog or to look deep, but contented itself with seeing clearly that which went on about her, she spent twenty-two 4 INTRODUCTION. very varied years, some of whicK were shaken by violent storms. Faithful and devoted, without pretending to be heroic, she was able to reconcile the timidities of her sez with the obligations and duties of her position, and pass at Court through the breakers of many reefs, visible and invis- ible, without beiag turned from her way, continuing always within the rules 'and delicacies of scrupulous integrity — woman in many points, but the most reasonable of women, a genuine person, yet at the same time amiable. She seems never to have thought of remarrying, and never to have known a tender weakness. In that agreeable discussion which she holds by letter with La Grande Mademoiselle on the conditions of a perfectly happy life she says : " I was only twenty years old when I regained my liberty, which has always seemed to me preferable to all the other good thiugs that the world esteems ; and by the way I have used it I seem to be a fit iuhabitant of the village of Eandan," — a village in Auvergne where the widows do not marry agaia. The title of dowager, which she gained so young, did not terrify her. She enjoyed friendship and conversation; but she could also enjoy, if need were, " the sweets of solitude, which are books and revery." A true and practical religion, which did not exclude but on the contrary brought her back to philosophical reflection, sustained and strengthened her in virtue and prudence. It was thus that this soul, equable and temperate, passed through life, without great lustre, without inward distresses, and constantly ripening. We at once ask ourselves, as we do of all women, whether Madame de Motteville was beautiful, and it appears that she was. " Her portrait, which is at Motteville," says the "Journal des Savants," "represents her as a very pretty brunette." The only engraved portrait which I have seen of her, and which every one may see at the Cabinet des INTRODUCTION. 5 Estampes, shows her to us with her hair dressed in the fashion of Anne of Austria, no longer in her first youth, the face full, with a double chin, and a gentle, tranquil ex- pression. The lower part of the face, however, is scarcely agreeable, and the whole together has nothing that claims marked attention. It is in her mind that we must seek for the delicate and charming traits that distinguished her. The principal figure around whom Madame de Motte- ville's narrative unfolds itself is that of the queen, Aime of Austria, her mistress. The author does not pique herself on being either a politician or an historian ; she is a woman who relates that which she has seen with her own eyes or learned from the best-informed persons. Very sensible and very safe as she was, the most honourable men among the initi- ated and the talented (such as de Eetz calls the Estr^es and the Senneterres) liked to talk with her. She was usu- ally in the cabinet, that is to say, the royal withdrawing- room; she makes it her centre, and dwells more willingly on the scenes there presented to her observation. Never- theless, she does not neglect, as occasion offers, more es- tended narratives, such, for instance, as the episode on the English Eevolution, which she gathered from the lips of the Queen of England herself and made into a separate narrar tive. She also enlarges on the revolution in Naples, which took place about the same time. " This is a fragment which I let drop as I go my way," she says of one of these chance episodes: "it will find its place with others of the same nature; and as it will not be treated with more order or connection it will also not have more value." The sound judgment of Madame de Motteville, which led her to con- sult as to these remote matters none but good witnesses and also made those most worthy of confidence like to speak of them openly with her, gives to these accessory parts and b INTRODUCTION. to these hors-d'oeuvres more interest than she ventures to claim. She begins by an abridged narrative of the queen's life from her arrival in France to the death of Louis XIII. and the Eegency. But the original part of these Memoirs is that which starts from the latter period and treats only of what passed within sight of the writer. When she returns to Court in 1643 Madame de MotteviUe describes to us the different personages on the stage, the divers cabal interests ; she shows herself to us in the midst of those great intrigues as a simple spectator seated in a corner of the best box and perfectly disinterested. " I thought only of amusing myself with what I saw, as at a fine comedy played before my eyes in which I had no interest." "Kings' cabinets," she says elsewhere, " are theatres in which are beiag played continu- ally the pieces that all the world is thinking about: some are simply comic; others are tragic, the greatest events of which are caused by trifles." Present at all these things with a clear-sighted mind and a spirit never bitter, and at first taking interest in them merely to escape tedium, she had, very early, a resource that came to her from her family that of writing ; the moments that other women took for cards or promenades, she spent in locking herself in and making notes of all she had seen and heard, to be used at a later day. The first period of the regency of Anne of Austria is ex- hibited and clearly shown by Madame de MotteviUe in a manner that makes us present with her. All the old friends of the queen have returned, after an exile more or less long ; each of them expects the same favour as before, and they do not at first perceive that the Anne of Austria whom they had left oppressed by Eichelieu, without children, and Spanish at heart, was now a mother, devoted to the in- INTRODUCTION. 7 terests of the young king, and a queen wholly French. Neither do they perceive that her heart is already won by IMazarin, and that she has chosen him, from affection and laziness, as the minister who is to release her from business and make her reign. Madame de Senec^ Madame de Che- vreuse, Madame de Hautefort on returning to Court have therefore much to learn, much to divine. Many of these exiles of other days no sooner think they have again grasped Fortune than they provoke to their own detriment her ca- price and inconstancy. " Here, then, is the Court, very grand and beautiful, but much embroiled," says Madame de Motte- viUe, who cannot help enjoying the spectacle. "Each is thinking of his own designs, his own interest and cabal. The cardinal, of a suave, shrewd mind, goes about working to win to himself all parties." But a goodly number, feel- ing sure of their ground, resisted all his advances. Madame de Motteville shows us, in this interior view, the unexpected reverses from which resulted new downfalls for the presump- tuous and for those who played the " Important." Apropos of Madame de Hautefort, whose firmness without gentleness and " mind attached to her senses " harshly resist the queen, Madame de Motteville lets us see the whole of her own court morality, a temperate but not relaxed morality. " "We may give oni advice to our masters and our friends," she thinks, "but if they are determined not to follow it we ought to enter into their inclinations rather than follow our own, when we do not see essential evil in them and when the things themselves are not important." The quality of Cardinal Mazarin's cleverness, his dissimu- lation, the grace and delicacy of his play, that cabinet spirit in which he excelled and which " set going so many great engines" are rendered with fidelity and to the life by a person who, without reason herself to speak well of him. 8 INTRODUCTION. has the merit of appreciating equitably his superior points. Many of those whom Mazarin dismissed were friends of Madame de Motteville; she does not abandon them when they fall; she visits, consoles, and even tries ia some cases to defend them to the queen. By this siacerity of action she does herself harm with the minister ; but the queen has enough elevation of heart to forgive her all such proofs of in- tegrity and, after a first coolness, to bear no resentment to her. If Anne of Austria were more iaterestiag than she appears to us m history, we might adopt from Madame de Motteville the various portraits she has made of her which are full of noble beauty and majesty. The waiting-woman (for here Madame de Motteville is somewhat that) shows us her royal mistress with admiration and love from the moment she wakes and rises and is given her chemise to that of her supper and coucher. Her widow's mourning became the queen, and she lost something by quitting it. She was at that time forty years old, " an age so dreadful for our sex," says Madame de Motteville ; but she triumphed over it by a stately appearance as sovereign and mother. All the portraits given by Madame de Motteville are fine and made almost without intention. In the troubles which soon arose she shows us qualities in the queen which it would be unjust to refuse her amid her faults ; she had courage and pride ; " the blood of Charles V. gave her a lofty dignity," and boiled in her veins. To such descrip- tions of Anne of Austria, a little partial but not false, we must always add, and hear, the " sharp little voice " she had when angry, the tone of which Eetz has so well conveyed. The Queen of England, magnificently lauded by Bossuet, is pictured more familiarly by Madame de Motteville, who knew her well; and this time it is she who gives to that figure, solemnized in the funeral oration, the touch of reality. INTEODUCTIOX. 9 On tlie occasion of the arrival of a Svredish ambassador (September, 1646), Madame de Motteyille shows us the first idea received in France of Queen Christina, and, while making herself the echo of that extraordinary eulogy, she adds a touch of light and gentle irony, as sometimes happens with her. " Fame," she says, " is a great talker, she is fond of passing the limits of truth; but truth has much force; it does not long leave a credulous world in the hands of de- ception. Some time later, it was known that the virtues of this queen were middling ; she had no respect for Christians; and if she practised morality it was more from fancy than feeling." Thus speaking, Madame de MotteviUe, who is always essentiallv a woman, gentlv avenges her sex, outraged some- what by the brusque and fantastic manners of that eccentric queeiL "Fame a great talker" reminds me of one of the graces of Madame de Motteville's style; a simple style, rather incorrect in its arrangement of sentences, retouched perhaps in various places by the editor, but excellent and wholly her own in the essentials of language and expression. She has many of those pleasing metaphors which brighten the tex- ture. "Wishing, for example, to say that kings never see evils and danger until at the last extremity, because they are hidden from them by a thousand clouds, " Truth," she re- marks, " which poets and painters represent naked, is always dressed up in a hundred ways before kings ; and never did a worldly woman so often change her fashions as truth when she enters a royal palace." Apropos of the cardinal's hat promised for years to the Abbe de la Eivifere, Moxseeue's favourite, and suddenly claimed by the Prince de Cond^ for his brother the Prince de Conti, she says that "Discord has flung a crimson apple into the cabinet." Pointing to 10 INTRODXJCTION. Mazarin, so adroit in turning to account tlie verj^ excesses of hatred and accusation, in neutralizing and making his own profit from them, she says : " Cardinal Mazarin does with insults what Mithridates did with poisons, which in- stead of killing him came at last by constant usage to nour- ish him. The minister, in like manner, seems by his adroit- ness to make good use of public maledictions; he employs them in getting credit with the queen for suffering in her defence." We feel in these passages, and in the whole current of Madame de Motteville's style, a natural and poetic imagination, without much sparkle, but such as be- came the niece of the amiable poet Bertaut. In certain places we find some wealth of imagery in " flowers," " roses," "thorns," some trace of the bad taste of the Louis XIII. period ; but these are only here and there ; her natural good sense usually reigns in her language as it does in her judg- ment and thought. Madame de Motteville is a contemporary of CorneiUe, and has a little of the tone of the romances of that period in her language. Speaking of Cinq-Mars, she calls him " that amiable criminal ; " in relating the downfall of those whom fortune deserted she is touched by " so many illustrious imf ortunates ; " though stiU young she slightly regrets the olden time. Speaking of the old Mar^chal de Bassompierre, whom the young men laughed at, she says, after praising his generosity, his magnificence, and his courteous manners : " The relics of the old mar^chal are worth more than the youth of some of the most polished men of these times" (1646). In Corneille's plays she liked especially the lofty morality and the noble sentiments which had purified the stage. "When Italian comedy was introduced under Maza- rin's auspices she took but little pleasure in those musical plays. " Persons who understand them esteem them highly," INTRODUCTION. 11 she says; "as for me, I find that the length of the play diminishes the pleasure, and I think that verses, repeated naturally, represent conversation more easily and touch the miud better than song delights the ear." All this shows a right mind and a noble heart, rather than a nature incliued to tenderness or passion. Italian comedy, played before the cardinal, excited the enthusiasm of certain courtiers, such as the Mar^chal de Grammont and the Due de Mortemart, who seemed enchanted by the very names of the minor actors, and "all together, in order to please the minister, uttered such great exaggerations when they spoke of them that Italian comedy became wearisome to persons who were moderate in speech." Madame de Motteville was one of those moderate persons, and she gives Us in those words the tone of her own soul. Thus, when I say she was by taste somewhat a contemporary of Corneille, the reader sees in what sense it must be imderstood, and how she corrected all exaggeration of it. Though she likes to recall and repeat the following gallant lines of her uncle, — " And constantly to love rare beauty- Is the sweetest error of earth's vanities, — " her heart was more fitted for friendship than for love ; she was made, in all ways, for correct and regulated sentiments, for happy equanimity, and she expresses a desire for them more than once. From her beautiful Normandy she had gained a love of nature and of country life ; but she could not enjoy it on a hasty journey. " The country," she says, "is beautiful with repose and solitude only when we can taste the innocent pleasure that the beauty of Nature affords us in woods and on the shores of rivers." She says else- where, speaking of kings : " I think those happy who know 12 INTEODUCTION. them only through the respect due to their name, who can enjoy the quiet, tranquil life of a good citizen with means, who have enough to live on and are not poisoned by ambi- tion. That is where all reasonable souls should seek for true happiness, — obscure, it is true, but tranquil and innocent." This desire for private life reappears iu her frequently, with a tone of sincerity that cannot be misunderstood. She likes, in these Memoirs of hers, to moralize, to give serious reflections which she enforces by agreeable quotations; she is fond of citing Spanish or Italian poets, sometimes Seneca, but oftener Holy Scripture. These reflec- tions have been thought too long and too frequent, which may be true of the latter part of the Memoirs; but as a general thing she knows how to mingle them with the cir- cumstances that inspired them. In certain very fine pages on the character, schemes, and talents of Cardinal Mazarin she shows him to us (during a stay he made in Paris, May, 1647) as shutting himself up to work, and leaving the greatest men in the kingdom waiting in his antechamber unable to reach him. Murmurs resounded on all sides; but the door opened, the minister came out, and all were silent : " When he got into his coach to go away, the courtyard of the Palais-Eoyal was filled with cordons bleus, great sei- gneurs, and persons of that quality, who, by their eager manner, seemed only too happy to have looked at him solely from a distance. All men are by nature slaves to fortune ; and I can say that I never knew a person at Court who was not a flatterer, some more, some less. The self- interest that blinds us misleads and betrays us on occasions which concern ourselves ; it makes us act with more senti- ment than intelligence ; quite often it happens that we are ashamed of our weaknesses; but they are not perceived INTRODUCTION. 13 except thi'ough wise reflection, which we all owe to our- selves, but which does not come until the occasion to do better has passed." She knows what the grand airs of independence assumed by those whom favour rebuffs too often signify ; she under- stands the showy pride which melts at the first advance and turns to meanness. Mazarin, who cannot use her, as he wished, for a creature of his own beside the queen, cavils at her, makes her sometimes rmeasy, and keeps her on the qui vive : that is his system when he is not sure of people. " As he did not know my intentions, and judged me by the opiaion he held of the universal corruption of the world, he could not keep himself from suspecting that I was mixed up in many things contrary to his interests. He told me one day that he was convinced of this because I never told him anything of others ; I listened to the malcontents, and must therefore be in their confidence." And, in truth, more than one malcontent was not afraid to confide in Madame de Motteville, even where there was no intimacy, and they spoke to her " as to a person who had the reputation of knowing how to hold her tongue." This was precisely what displeased Mazarta and made him com- plain of her. " That reproach," she adds, " shows his natu- ral distrust and how imfortimate we were in living under the power of a man who loved double-dealing and with whom integrity had so little value that he thought it a crime." These complaints of the cardinal, which did not faU to transpire, she endeavoured to offset by certain kind words of the queen which counteracted the impression before others; "for at Court," she remarks, "it is easy to dazzle spectators ; we must never give them the pleasure of know- ing we are not as fortunate as they imagine, or as unfortu- nate as they desire." 14 INTRODUCTION. In all her remarks on the Court, that "delightful and wicked place " which was often justly hated, hut " always naturally loved," I fancy as I read Madame de MottevUle that I am listening to Nicole, hut a feminine Nicole, soft- ened and more agreeable. Nevertheless, we meet with many very fine expressions of vigour and moral energy. At a ball given by Cardinal Mazarin during the carnival of 1647 she describes to us, one after another, the principal beauties and queens of the festival; after which she makes the supernumeraries defile before us, and they are by no means the least pretentious or the least noisy. "The queen's maids-of-honour. Pons, Guerchy, and Saint-M^grin, tried to make a few natural conquests by the pains they took to embellish themselves in all sorts of ways ; happy if, among so many lovers, they could have caught husbands suited to their ambition and the license of their desires." That is only a piquant stroke; but presently, speaking more particularly of Mademoiselle de Pons, beloved by the Due de Guise, now on his way to conquer Naples for her sake, and yet, for all that, not con- tent or satisfied with such a prize, she says : " That soul, gluttonous of pleasure, was not content with an absent lover who adored her and a hero who, to deserve her, sought to make himself a sovereign. Ambition and love combined did not have charms enough to fill her heart ; to satisfy her she must needs go promenading on the Cours, where she received the incense of all her new conquests." A soul c/luttonous of pleasure ! it is a sense of honest decency which here conveys to Madame de Motteville's style that expression of disgust. Her habitual tones are much more restrained; acrimony does not touch her decent pen. Near as they are to the queen, she and her companions are deprived by the avarice of the cardinal of many of the practical and efficacious INTRODUCTION. 15 results of favour, but she confines herself to jesting about it with light and smiling irony. There is nothing in these Memoirs of Madame de Motteville that recalls those other Memoirs, so distinguished but so bitter, of Madame de Staal- Delaunay, lady-in-waiting to the Duchesse du Maine; the situation however was very different. Madame de Motte- ville was in a great and real Court, beside a queen who, with a mind of ordinary compass (though accommodating and agreeable), had a noble and generous heart and paid for services with esteem. If one must find an historical paren- tage for Madame de MotteviUe, I find it more in the Memoirs of the wise chamberlain Philippe de Commines, whom she likes to quote, recalling at times the results of his soimd and judicious experience. Her own Memoirs become more serious and take a loftier historical character the farther they advance into the period of civil agitations and the troubles of the Fronde. Madame de Motteville judged them rightly, and while ascribing to herself only the rSle of a timid woman, she makes reflec- tions which one could wish had been made at the time by many men. The long conversations in private which she had with the Queen of England had enlightened her as to the real tendency of perils which often, in their beginning, seem no more than a gust. Noting with vigorous justice the illusion of the Parliament people, and their insatiable es- actions which caused them to reject all preliminary offers of compromise and conciliation, she boldly declares that "the corruption of men is such that to make them live according to reason they must not be treated reasonably, and to make them just they must be treated imjustly." She points to men of property who, by obstinately shouting against taxa- tion and those who abused it, were aiding turbulence and lending support to malcontents, which often happened. 16 INTRODUCTION. " Men of property, without considering that an evil is some- times necessary, and that, in this respect, all the ages have heen about equal, hoped through disorder to attain to some better order; and that word reformation not only pleased them as a good principle, but it also suited those who courted evil through the excess of their folly and ambition." There are moments when all things concur for disorder and ruin, and when sedition is in the very air. " The star," says Madame de MotteviUe, "was at that time terrible against kings." The first scenes of the Fronde are related by her in a manner that does not pale before even the narrative of Car- dinal de Eetz. The latter gives us the scene in the rue du Palais-Eoyal when he enters it, and of the interior of the archbishop's palace. Madame de MotteviUe shows us the interior of the queen's cabinet, where she finds herself, at first, the only person who is seriously alarmed. The first day of the Barricades was almost wholly spent in joking her. " As I was the least valiant of the company, all the shame of that day fell upon me." For a person belonging to that interior she comprehends very clearly and at once the nature of the revolt in the town, and the disorder so quickly and so well organized. "The bourgeois," she says, " who had taken arms very willingly to save the city from pillage, were no better than the populace, and demanded Broussel as heartily as the scavengers; for, besides being infected with a love of the public welfare, which they reckoned to be theirs personally, . . . they were filled with joy in thinking themselves necessary to some- thing." These words, " infected with a love of the public welfare," have often been quoted ; but we should see in them only a simple little jest of Madame de MotteviUe ; she knew what she was saying in speaking thus and in characterizing INTRODUCTION. 17 as disease and pestilence tKe false love which had seized that seditious populace for a moment. Madame de Motteville is not a blind royalist ; she believes in the right of kings, but also in the justice which is its law, and which God, she thinks, often inspires in kings, and has done so almost always in this kingdom of France. Her ideal of a monarch is Charles V. On the day when Parliament relied on I forget which ordinance of Louis XII. to demand that "no one shall be put ui prison without being brought twenty-four hours later before his native judges," she cannot help remarking that this article guaranteeing individual security, as we should say, " was agreeable to all France. The love of liberty," she adds, " is strongly imprinted in nature. The wisest minds, which, until then, had disap- proved of the doings of this Assembly, could not in their hearts, hate this proposition; they blamed it apparently, because it was impossible to praise it before the world, but in point of fact they liked it and could not help respect- ing such boldness and wishing it success." We see that Madame de Motteville would have made a fairly liberal royalist ; but this woman of intelligence and good sense, who was present at such terrible scenes, and relates them, is never the dupe of grand words nor of appearances; she mingles with them observations such as do honour to his- torians and are not disavowed by politicians. " When sub- jects revolt," she says, " they are pushed into it by causes of which they are ignorant, and, as a usual thing, what they de- mand is not what is needed to pacify them." She points out to us these very magistrates (the parliament), who had been the first to stir up the people, amazed to find it turning against them and not respecting them. " They knew them- selves to be the cause of these disorders, but they could not have remedied them had they wished to do so, for when the VOL. I. — 2 18 INTRODUCTION. people meddle with ordering there is no longer any master ; each man for himself endeavours to be one." We may look at home to-day, and ask ourselves if this is not still our history. But I remind myself that I chose the subject of Madame de MotteviLle in order to distract my mind for a moment — mine and my reader's if possible — from the painful specta- cle of our present dissensions [Dec. 1, 1851], and I do not wish to fall back to them by allusions which they supply but too freely. Madame de Motteville ran some danger in Paris during the first Fronde. Not being able in the early days of 1649 to follow the fugitive queen to Saint-G-ermain, and wishing to rejoin her soon after, she was arrested, with her sister, at the Porte Saint-Honor^ by a furious mob, and was forced to take refuge on the steps of the high altar at Saint-Eoch, where some of her friends, hastily summoned, came to her rescue. She joined the queen a little later and quitted her again at certain times; for this distinguished woman was not, as she tells us humbly, an amazon or a heroine ; it was with difficulty that she rose above the terrors or even the inconveniences of her sex. Present or absent, however, her fidelity never failed. When peace was re-established, she resumed beside the queen the habits of her regular, gentle, serious life, which suited her so well. Her virtue, her deli- cate integrity in that world of treachery and ambush, ex- posed her, even to the last, to certain cavillings, over which her prudence and calmness, supported by the esteem of the queen-mother, enabled her to triumph. Eeligion took deeper and deeper hold on a soul made to welcome it and natu- rally ordained to it. This enlightened and submissive reli- gion has dictated to her in these Memoirs certain pages, which are as charming as they are solid and sensible, on INTEODUCTION. 19 the quarrels of the period, tlie disputes of Jansenism and Molioism, in which women were as eager as others to mingle. " It costs us so dear," she says, alluding to Eve, " for having sought to learn the knowledge of good and evil, that we ought to agree that it is better to be ignorant of it than to know it; especially as we women are accused of being the cause of all evil. . . . Whenever men talk of God and the hidden mysteries I am astonished at their boldness, and I am delighted not to be obliged to know more than my Pater, my Credo, and the Commandments." Madame de Motteville follows exactly the line that Bossuet traced in such matters. This whole page should be read ; the author crowns it with very noble Italian verses, which prove that while submitting her mind she by no means renounced a reasonable self- adornment and embellishment. This rare person, this hon- est woman of so much judgment and intelligence, died in December, 1689, in her sixty-eighth year. She can be appre- ciated at her full value only by accompanyiog her through^ out the whole course of her Memoirs, following her in her development and continuity; quotations and analysis give but a very imperfect idea of their slow, full, tranquil, and engaging character, Sainte-Beuve. TEANSLATOE'S NOTE. These Memoirs are somewhat abridged; chiefly in the parts relating to matters that did not come under Madame de Motteville's personal observation ; such, for instance, as the period before she became the daily companion of Anne of Austria, the military details of the wars of the Fronde, eta PREFACE. Kings are not only exposed to the eyes but to the judg- ment of all the world; very often their actions are good or bad according only to the different sentiments of those who judge them by their passions. They have the misfortune to be censured with severity for things about which they might be blamed, but no one has the kindness to defend them for other thiags which might justly obtain some ex- cuse. All who approach them praise them in their presence through base self-interest, in order to please them ; but each man, with sham virtue, joins in judging them severely when absent. Moreover, their intentions and their sentiments being unknown and their actions public, it often happens that, without wronging equity, they may be accused of faults which they never intended to commit, but of which they are nevertheless guilty, because they have been deceived, either by themselves, for want of knowledge, or by their ministers, who, slaves to ambition, never tell them the truth. It is this that has led me to write in my leisure hours, and for my amusement, what I know of the life, habits, and inclinations of Queen Anne of Austria, and to repay, by the simple recital of what I recognize in her, the honour she did me in giving me her familiarity. For, though I do not pre- tend to be able to praise her in all thiags, and, in accordance with my natural disposition, I am not capable of disguise, I am, nevertheless, very sure that historians who have not known her virtues and her kindness, and who will speak of her only in accordance with the satirical talk of the public, 24 PREFACE. can never do Ker the justice that I would fain be able to do her if my iucapacity and my want of eloquence did not take from me the means of doing it. Therefore, what I now undertake is not with any fixed design of correcting their ignorance or their malice; that project would be too great for a lazy woman, and too bold for a person like me who dreads to show herself and would be unwilling to be thought an author. But I do it for my own satisfaction, out of gratitude to the queen, and to re- view once more (if I live), as in a picture, all that has come to my knowledge concerning the things of a Court, — which is certainly very limited, for I do not like intrigue. But I shall add nothing. That which I put upon paper I have seen and I have heard, and during the whole Eegency (which is the period of my attendance on the princess), I have written, without order, from time to time, and sometimes daily, what seemed to me most remarkable. In doing this I employed the time that ladies are accustomed to give to cards and promenades, because of the hatred I have always felt to the useless life of the people of the great world. I do not know if I have done better than others ; but at least I know well that, to my thinking, one cannot do worse than to do nothing. MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. I. 1611 — 1630. King Louis XIII. was but nine years and eight days old when he came to the crown; but King Henri IV. had left him a kingdom so peaceful and flourishing, with such good troops in his armies, such able ministers in his councils, and such large sums in his coffers, that if the queen, Marie de' Medici, had been willing to follow the system established by that great prince in the State, her regency would have been far more glorious and the rest of her life much happier. But, having allowed the Marquis d'Ancre, whom she made marshal of France, to take too great authority, he advised her to dismiss the servitors of the late king, and particu- larly those great men who had grown old in the highest offices and managed the most important negotiations, to put in their place others who were wholly dependent upon her. This drew upon her the hatred of all the princes of the blood, and of the other princes and great seigneurs, whom she treated with such haughtiness that they retired from Court; and the treaties of Sainte-M^nehould and Loudim, which the marshal had made, having no effect, the number of malcontents increasing daily, he resolved, in order to break 26 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. up the measures he saw were preparing against him, to arrest the Prince de Cond4, who, as first prince of the blood, would probably be the leader of the party now beginning to form itself. At the same time he sent orders to the two armies intended to act outside the kingdom, in execution of the great designs of the king who had raised them, to hold themselves ready to sustain the royal authority confided to him [the Mar^chal d'Ancre] in case it was attacked in con- sequence of the arrest of the prince. He also raised a third army, to be ready to march more promptly against the first malcontents who ventured to declare themselves. So bold an action as this and such great preparations con- firmed the queen in the high opinion she had of him whose advice she blindly followed, and made her believe she would soon be mistress of the Court and of all France without op- position. It was this that ruiaed her, as well as the man she had chosen for her first minister. For, as she was per- suaded that none could resist her, she imagined she had no need to treat any one with caution, not even the king her son ; and she took no heed that he too had a favourite with as much ambition as her own, who, insinuating himself daily more and more, worked so strongly to detach the king from the tenderness he had for his mother that in the end he made him resolve to part from her altogether. This favour- ite was de Luynes, who, during the time he was the young prince's page, had found means to make himself so agreeable and so necessary to all his pleasures, exercises, and amuse- ments, particularly those of all kinds of hunting where few persons liked to follow him, that the freedom in which he lived with the king raised him at last to the dignity of connetable. The French nobles, naturally attached to the princes of the blood, having taken up arms in the provinces, were daily 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 27 swelling the party of the Prince de Cond^ whUe disorder reigned in Paris, where the populace pillaged the house of the Mar^chal d'Ancre, against whom they made loud out- cries as the author of the violent manner of the queen's governing, and the bad employment, robbery, and squander- ing of the treasure amassed by Henri IV. Eiots became daily more frequent, and no one having the force or the desire to quell them, the populace at last attacked the mar- shal as he was leaving the Louvre, April 24, 1617, — the bravi who everywhere accompanied him, giving him no succour, nor the guards either (who were not far off when he drew his sword intending to defend himself), for they thought that the Marquis de Vitry, their captain, who ap- peared at that moment, was coming to his rescue. Instead of that, he came to arrest him, so that it remained doubtful whether his death was due to the fury of the people, or to his own resistance to the king's orders. Since his majority the king had manifested on so many occasions his intention of taking cognizance of public mat- ters that, the queen having now retired to Blois, he was not long in recalling the chancellor, de Sillery, and in setting the Prince de Cond^ at liberty. This was not enough to really pacificate the kingdom which aU these changes had disturbed. But as I have not undertaken to describe the life of that unhappy princess, I shall not speak of the war undertaken by those who took her side. My purpose is only to note what may concern Queen Anne of Austria, who began to be spoken of during the subsequent negotiations for a general peace which her marriage was to give to all Europe. I shall therefore merely say here that the Grand-duke of Tuscany, being naturally obliged to act towards maintaining Queen Marie de' Medici's former influence with the king 28 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. (who, though attaining his majority, was still willing to share his authority with her), and having great interest in the tranquillity of France, which could not be shaken without Italy and Spain being disturbed, directed the Marquis Borri, his ambassador, to be the first in the conferences held with the Spanish ministers at Madrid to suggest a double marriage between the two princes and the two princesses of France and Spain. The result was that the Due du Maine went to Spain and the Due de Pastrana came to France. The espousals of Philip IV., son of Philip III., King of Spain with Madame ^filisabeth of France [daughter of Henri IV.] were solemnized at Burgos, and those of King Louis XIII. with Anne of Austria, Infanta of Spain, at Bordeaux in 1615. The Due de Guise, who had conducted Madame &isabeth to the middle of the little river of Bidassoa, which separates the two kingdoms, took leave of her to let her pass on to Fonta- rabia, while he himself conducted the Infanta of Spain to Saint-Jean de Luz, where the Due de Luynes gave her a letter from the king, to which, it is said, he brought back an answer in her own handwriting. It was supposed that the army of the Huguenots would oppose her journey, and it is true that it was so near to that of the king that it seemed to flank it; but this only served to make them see his strength, and to render the entry of the Infanta into France the more imposing. I know from my late mother, who had henceforth the honour to approach the princess familiarly (though she was not her servant), that she was handsome and very amiable. I have heard my mother say that the first time she saw her she was seated on cushions, according to the Spanish custom, among her ladies, of whom she had a great number, dressed in the Spanish fashion in a gown of green satin, embroidered 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 29 in silver and gold, with, large hanging sleeves, fastened with great diamonds serving as buttons, on the arms ; she wore also a closed ruff and a little cap upon her head of the same colour as her dress, in which was a heron's feather which enhanced by its blackness the beauty of her hair, which at that time was very handsome and worn in large curls. The young king was also very handsome and very well made, and his dark beauty did not displease our young queen. She thought him very agreeable from the beginning; and though he stuttered, and the fatigues of hunting, his long ill- nesses, and his natural gloom changed him infinitely towards the end of his life, I stQl believe, from the way in which I have heard the queen speak of him, that she would have loved him much if the misfortune of both, and that fatality which seems inevitable for all princes, had not disposed otherwise; for the king, making for himself a grievous destiny, did not love the queen as much as she deserved. He spent his life in hunting beasts and allowed himself to be governed by favourites ; so much so that he and the queen lived together with little intercourse or happiness. All the Spanish ladies who came with our young queen were soon taken from her, which caused her great pain. Only one remaiaed, named Donna Estefania, whom she loved tenderly because she had brought her up, and was, as we say in France, her first bed-chamber woman. My late mother, who had lived many years in Spain (whither she had been taken at six years of age by her grandmother, the second wife of the Sieur Saldagna, who had no children, to obtain an inheritance of which she had promised her the chief share), was a great comfort to Donna Estefania in the first years of her life in France, during which she took no pleasure except in things that reminded her of Spain. 30 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. r. My mother formed at the outset a great friendship with this lady, who, beginning to feel infirm, needed to lay her cares on some faithful person who not only spoke Spanish but could also read and write it, and who knew the Spanish Court ; and the queen herself, finding all these requisites ia my mother with much intelligence and charm, made no difficulty iu placing confidence in her, not only for the inno- cent, though secret, correspondence which she maintained with her brother, the King of Spain, but also to console her- self with her for the grief she could not disguise at the great favour of the Due de Luynes, who had the audacity, so it was said, to propose to the king to repudiate her and marry a relation of his wife, afterwards the Princesse de Gu^men^e, whom we knew as the handsomest woman of the Court. But if this thought ever came iato his mind, it could only have remained there a moment as an absurd vision; for the Duchesse de Luynes, who was on very good terms with her husband, was not long without being liked by the queen, who, although in the beginning she could not endure her on account of her own aversion to the duke, did accustom her- self to her for the sake of the good terms she was thus en- abled to have with the king, who liked the duchess, and for the hunting and riding parties she was now invited to join. Thus she did enjoy certain periods of pleasure without other bitterness than that of becoming pregnant several times, as she believed, and miscarrying for having ridden too hard in hunting. From which we may judge that if her Court lacked prudence it was not without enjoyment, since youth and beauty had sovereign rights there. The Due de Luynes having died in 1621, his little em- pire ended with him; and Queen Marie de' Medici, being reconciled to the king, the peace between mother and son 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 31 destroyed that between husband and wife; for the queen- mother, bemg convmced that, to hold control over the young prince, the young princess must not be on good terms with him, intrigued with such perseverance and success in creat- ing misunderstandings between them that from that day forth the queen, her daughter-in-law, had neither influence nor comfort. All her consolation was the part which the Duchesse de Luynes, now remarried with the Due de Che- Vreuse, a prince of the house of Lorraine, took ia her sorrows, which she tried to soften by the amusements she proposed and by communicating to her, as much as she could, her own gay and lively humour, which turned the most serious things of the greatest consequence into matters for jest and laughter — a giovine cuo?- tutto e giuoco. Some years went by without my being able to explain how they were passed, knowing nothing but what the queen herself told me later, amusing herself sometimes by relatiag stories of them. I can say, however, that she was loved, and that, in spite of the respect which her majesty inspired, her beauty did not fail to touch certain men who openly showed their passion. The Duke of Buckingham was the only one who dared to attack her heart. He came, on the part of the King of England, his master, to marry by proxy Madame, the king's sister. He was well-made, handsome in face; he had a lofty soul, was magnificent, liberal, and a favourite of his king, so that he had his wealth to spend, and all the crown jewels to adorn him. It is not astonishing that with such amiable advantages he had high thoughts and noble but dangerous and blamable desires, or that he had the happi- ness to make the beautiful queen admit that if a virtuous woman could love another than her husband, he would have been the only one who could have pleased her. The praises 32 MEMOIRS OS MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. that I give Mm I heard from the queen herself, for he was the person in the world of whom I have heard her say the most good. It is, no doubt, to be presumed that his regard was not unwelcome, and that his vows were received with a certain amount of complacency. The queen, making no secret of it, had no difficulty in telling me later (wholly undeceived then about such dangerous illusions) that, being young, she did not comprehend that fine conversation, other- wise called polite gallantry, in which no pledges were given, could be blamable any more than that which Spanish ladies practise in the palace, where, living like nuns and speaking to men only in presence of the King and Queen of Spain, they nevertheless boast of their conquests and talk of them as a thing which, far from injuring their reputation, adds to it. She had in the Duchesse de Chevreuse a friend who was wholly given up to these vain amusements; and the queen, by her coxmsels, had not avoided, in spite of the purity of her soul, taking pleasure in the charms of that passion which she accepted with a certain complacency, for it flattered her glory more than it shocked her virtue. Much has been said of a walk she took in the garden of a house where she lodged when she went to conduct the Queen of England to Amiens. But this was most unjust, for I know from herself, who did me the honour to confide it to me without reserve, that she only wished to walk in that garden because the king had forbidden every one to enter it, and, as difficulty increases desire, this gave her a very strong wish to go there ; so that, after getting the keys with much trouble from the captain of the guard, she walked there one evening with Madame de Chevreuse and her little Court. The walk was taken in presence of her whole suite, which accompanied the princess as usual. I have seen per- sons who were present and who told me the truth. The \^/'i(-A:£ cy^ '^yifCKi'J/fa//i://y/ 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 33 Duke of Buckingham was there and wanted to talk with her. Putange, the queen's equerry, left her for a few mo- ments, thinking that respect required him not to listen to what the English lord was saying to her. Chance led them to a turn of the path where a palisade hid them from view. The queen, at that moment, surprised to find herself alone, and apparently startled by some too passionate sentiment from the Duke of Buckuigham, cried out, and calling to her equerry, blamed him for leaving her. By that cry she showed her wisdom and her virtue, pre- ferring the preservation of her inward innocence to the fear she must have had of being blamed ; for that cry, reported to the king, would certainly cause her much embarrassment. If on this occasion she showed that her heart could be sus- ceptible of a tenderness that invited her to listen to the romantic speech of a man who loved her, it must at the same time be admitted that a love of purity and her virtu- ous feelings surmounted all the rest, and that she preferred a real and true credit, unmixed by any sentiment unworthy of her, to a reputation suspected, after all, of little. When the duke took leave of the queen-mother, who had also come to conduct her daughter, the Queen of England, beyond Amiens, the queen did me the honour to tell me that when he came to kiss her gown, she being in the front of the coach with the Princesse de Conti beside her, he screened himself with the curtain to say a few words to her and to wipe the tears that were falling from his eyes. The Princesse de Conti, who laughed at goodness, and was, as I have heard say, very witty, said as to this, speaking of the queen, that she could assure the king of her virtue; but she could not say as much for her cruelty, because no doubt the tears of this lover, which she had seen (being seated beside the queen), must have touched her heart, and VOL. I. 3 34 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. she suspected that her eyes at least looked at him with some pity. The Duke of Buckingham's passion led him to do an- other very bold action, about which the queen informed me and the Queen of England afterwards confirmed to me, having heard it from himself. This celebrated foreigner, after startiag from Amiens to return to England, conduct- ing Madame Henriette de France to her kiag and to reign over the English, beiag full of his passion and goaded by the pain of absence, wanted to see the queen again, if only for a moment. Though they had almost reached Calais, he made a plan to satisfy his desire by feigning to receive news from the king his master which obliged him to go to the French Court. Leaving the future queen of England at Boulogne, he returned to see the queen-mother and negotiate this pre- tended affair, which was only a pretext for returning to Court. After discussiug his chimerical negotiation, he went to the queen, whom he found in bed and almost alone.. This princess knew by letters from the Duchesse de Che- vreuse, who was accompanying the Queen of England, that he had returned. She spoke of it before ISTogent, laughing, and was not astonished when she saw him. But she was surprised when, with much freedom, he threw himself on his knees before the bed and kissed her sheet with trans- ports so excessive that it was easy to see his passion was violent, and one of those which deprive such as are touched by them of their reason. The queen did me the honour to tell me she was embarrassed; and this embarrassment mingled with vexation caused her to remaia for some time without speaking. The Comtesse de Lannoi, then her lady- of-honour, wise, virtuous, and elderly, who was beside her pillow, not willing to allow the duke to remain in such a 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 35 state, told him with much severity that it was not the custom in France and that she wished him to rise. But he, not abashed, argued with the old lady, saying that he was not a Frenchman and was not bound to observe all the laws of that State. Then, addressing the queen, he said the most tender things in the world to her. But she only answered with complaints of his boldness, and, without perhaps beiag very angry, ordered him to rise and leave the room. He did so; and after seeing her agaiu the next day in presence of all the Court, he departed, fuUy resolved to return to France as soon as possible. After the English ambassador had crossed the sea, the two queens returned to the king who awaited them at Fon- tainebleau. All these things relating to Buckingham were told to him to the disadvantage of the queen, so much so, that several of her servants were dismissed. Putange, her equerry, was exiled ; Datal, La Porte, and the queen's doctor were treated in the same way. The Queen of England told me afterwards that in the beginning of her marriage she had some distaste to the king, her husband, and that Buckingham fomented it, telling her freely that he would set them against each other if he could. He succeeded so far that, from a feeling of vexation, she wanted to return to France to see her mother; and as she knew the passionate desire the English duke had to see the queen again, she spoke to him of her design. He entered into it with ardour, and powerfully helped her to obtain the permission of the king, her husband. The princess, knowing this, wrote to the queen-mother asking her to think it well that she should bring the Duke of Buckingham with her, because without Viitti she could not make the journey. She was refused both by the queen her mother, and the king her brother ; and her project, in consequence of this desire of the 36 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. duke, could not take effect. This need not astonish us ; the rumour of his sentiments was an inviucible obstacle. As the king had some tendency to jealousy, the queen-mother giving him as much as she could to disgust him with the queen (served in this by Cardinal Eichelieu, whom she had brought iato public affairs), the Duke of Buckingham could never afterwards obtain permission to return to France. This man, who, from all descriptions given to me, had as much vanity as ambition, embroiled the two crowns in order to get back to France by the necessity of a treaty of peace, after he had, as he intended, made a great reputation by the victories he expected to win over our nation. On this basis he brought a powerful naval force to the help of the Eochelle people then besieged by King Louis XIII., show- ing publicly the passion he had for the queen and making a glory of it. But this ostentation was punished at last by no success, and the shame of having ill succeeded in all his designs. Madame de Chevreuse, who followed vehemently all her inclinations and loved the Duke of Holland, a friend of the Duke of Buckingham, having now returned from England, saw with some satisfaction the arrival of Buckingham's fleet and his return to France with what at first appeared to be a high reputation. She did not cease to talk of it to the queen. The mistress and favourite both hated Cardinal Eichelieu because he was the creature of the king and the queen-mother, who had put him in the ministry. They found nothing more agreeable than to annoy him, all the more because the queen was persuaded that he did her ill service with the king. She made therefore no difficulty in listening with pleasure to the wishes Madame de Chevreuse expressed for the success of the English. She often told me this herself, wondering at the error, into which the 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 37 gayety and folly of innocent youth, which did not yet know the full estent to which virtue, reason, and justice bound it, had led her. The Duchesse de Chevreuse was no doubt the cause of this blindness, which was not ia reality as criminal as it seemed, because the intentions and sentiments of the soul are what make good or evil in us. But in the days when the queen became more enlightened she regretted it. Madame de Chevreuse told me afterwards, in. relating the follies of her youth, that she had forced the queen to think of Buckingham by always talking of him and removing what scruples she had by dwelling on the annoyance thus given to Cardinal de Eichelieu. I have also heard her say, with much assev- eration on this point, that it was true that the queen had a noble soul and a very pure heart ; and that, in spite of the clime in which she was born, where, as I have said, the name of having a lover is the fashion, she had had all the trouble in the world to make the queen take a liking to the fame of being loved. The queen herself spoke of these things with so free and honest a simplicity that it was easy to see she had never had in herself other than slight imperfections. Indeed, they served to make her know in later days what she owed to God for having maintained her in true purity, when vanity made her swerve from the maxims so virtuous a princess wished and was bound to observe. Her misfortune was in not being loved enough by the king her husband, and in being as it were forced to amuse her heart elsewhere by giving it to ladies who made a bad use of it, and who, during her first years, instead of leading her to seek occa- sions to please the king, and to desire to be esteemed by him, estranged her from him as much as they possibly could in order to possess her more completely. 38 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTBVILLE. [chap. i. It is believed that Cardinal de Eichelieu had in reality more love for the queen than hatred, and that, seeing she was not inclined to wish him well, he did, either for revenge or from the necessity of thus using her, do her harm with the king. The first signs of his affection were the persecu- tions he inflicted on her. They were visible to the eyes of all ; and we shall see that this new manner of loving lasted tni the end of the cardinal's life. There is no apparent ground for thinking that this passion, so vaunted by poets, caused the strange effects they asserted in his soul. But the queen related to me that one day he spoke to her in too gallant a manner for an enemy, and made her a very passion- ate speech, which she was about to answer with anger and contempt, but the king entering the room at that moment, his presence interrupted her reply; and since that instant, she had never dared to return to the cardinal's harangue, fearing to do him too much favour by showing that she remembered it. But she answered him tacitly by the hatred she always had for him and by the steady refusal she gave to his friendship and his assistance with the king. Those who had the most influence with her and who did not like the cardinal did not fail, in order to draw her to their party, to strengthen her aversion. That aversion won her many adherents, for Cardinal Eichelieu was hated; but by this conduct, though it was just fundamentally, she placed her- self much worse with the king; we can judge from her sentiments and those of the minister whether there was reason for it. The queen and many private persons who had felt the harsh effects of this minister's cruel principles had cause to hate him ; but, besides the fact that he was beloved by friends because he esteemed them much, envy certainly was the sole cause for the public hatred, because in truth he did 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 39 not deserve it ; for, in spite of his defects and the justifiable dislike of the queen, it must be said of him that he was the greatest man of our time, and that past ages had none who could surpass him. He had the principles of illustrious tyrants ; he ruled his designs, his thoughts, his resolutions by reasons of State and the public good, which he considered only so far as this said public good enhanced the authority of the king and swelled his treasury. He wished to make him reign over his peoples and to reign himself over his king. The life and death of men touched him only according to the interests of his grandeur and fortune, on which he thought those of the State depended wholly. Under this pretence of preserving the one by the other he made no difficulty in sacrificing all things to his private preservation ; and though he wrote " The Life of the Chris- tian," he was very far indeed from gospel principles. His enemies were the worse for his not following those principles, but France profited ; like those fortunate children who enjoy here below a prosperity for which their fathers toiled, pro- curing for themselves perhaps eternal woe. Not that I wish to make an evil judgment of that great man; it must be owned that he enlarged the borders of France, and by the taking of La RocheUe diminished the power of heresy, which was still considerable in all the provinces where the remains of the old war kept it alive. His great vigilance in discovering cabals that were formed at Court, and his speed in smothering them, enabled him to maintain the kingdom. He was, moreover, the first favourite who had the courage to lessen the power of princes and grandees, so damaging to that of our kings, and — in the desire perhaps to govern alone — to destroy whatever was opposed to royal authority, defeating those who tried by ill-offices to remove him from royal favour. 40 MEirOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. The queen was amiable, the king incliried to piety, and if the policy of the minister had not put obstacles in the way of their union it is very likely that Louis XIII. would have attached himself to the friendship of the person in the world most capable of it from the sweetness of her nature, and most worthy of it for her goodness and beauty. Some have said that the king never had any inclination for her, and the queen herself believed this, because she judged by the indifference he showed to her; but I know from one of the king's favourites,^ inferior in power to Eichelieu, but who, nevertheless, had enough share in the king's inclina- tions to know all such private matters, that he thought her beautiful, and one day, making him a confidence in respect to her beauty, he said that he dared not show her tenderness lest he should displease the queen his mother and the cardinal, whose counsel and services were more important to him than to live pleasantly with his wife. The enemies of the queen, the better to succeed in making the king hate her, used against her strongly the intercourse she kept up with Spain. The slightest mark of affection that she gave her brother the King of Spain, they magnified into crime against her husband. She had some reason to fear being repudiated, and for all consolation, she hoped, after the death of her aunt, the Infanta Isabella-Clara- Eugenia, to be sent to govern the Low Countries, whither my late mother, who always passed for a Spaniard on account of her name, Luisa de Saldagna, which she had borne in Spain, was resolved to take me. The inheritance from the Dame Du Fai and that from my late uncle the Bishop of Sdez not proving as good as they imagined, the pension of six hundred livres which the queen had given 1 On the margin of the manuscript is written "Duo de Saint-Simon." This was the father of the author of the Memoirs. 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 41 me since 1622, when I was only seven years old, and the brevet she gave me in 1627, which bound me, indispen- sably, to follow her fortunes, were very welcome, but they gave occasion to Cardinal Eichelieu, who knew that the queen had great confidence in my mother, and who saw that she was beginning to take pleasure in conversing with me in Spanish, to make the king send me an order to retire from Court. The queen could not refrain firom complaining that they took from her even a child, for I was then only nine or ten years old. My late mother, seeing that the matter concerned her as much or more than it did me, took me to Normandy; but the queen paid my mother, when she could, the pension she had given me. In the year 1639, having married Monsieur de Motteville, president of the Chamber of Accoimts of Normandy, who had no children and much property, I found comfort with an abundance of all things ; and if I had chosen to profit by the friendship he had for me and receive the advantages he could and would have given me, I should have found myself rich at his death. But, beiug wholly occupied by the hope that every one had iu those days of the approaching death of Cardinal Eichelieu, which would give us the opportunity to return to Court, I was very glad to make a journey there ia the same year (1639), believing that, beiug married and settled in Normandy, my presence could no longer give anxiety to Cardiual Eichelieu. I went, therefore, without any scruple to pay my duty to the queen, who received me very well and gave me letters as one of her ladies, with a brevet of two thousand livres pension; and the late ]Mon- sieur de Motteville, as well as my father and mother, having died shortly after Cardiual Eichelieu, I prepared to establish myself with my sister in Paris, where my brother was finishing his studies. The order the queen gave me 42 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap, l was far more agreeable than the one which obliged me to quit her. She received us with much kindness, and said the same day to one of my mother's friends that the children of her friend had come back, and she was very glad to see them. Having thus returned to the Court, which I had left so young, I tried to recall in my memory the state in which it then was, to compare it with that in which I now found it. I do not know if the regency gave a grander and more majestic air to the queen than that she had when unfor- tunate, but she seemed to me more amiable than formerly, and as beautiful as any of those who formed her circle. At the time when I was sent away she wore her hair in the fashion of a round coiffure, transparently frizzed, and with much powder ; after that she took to curls. Her hair had grown rather darker in colour, and she had a great quantity of it. Her features were not delicate ; having even the defect of too thick a nose, and she wore, in Spanish fashion, too much rouge ; but she was fair, and never was there a finer skin than hers. Her eyes were perfectly beautiful; gentleness and majesty united ia them; their colour, mingled with green, made her glance the more vivid and full of all the charms that Nature gave them. Her mouth was small and rosy, the smile admirable, and the lips had only enough of the Austrian family to make them more beautiful than many that claimed to be more perfect. The shape of her face was handsome and the forehead well- made. Her hands and arms were of surpassing beauty, and all Europe has heard their praises ; their whiteness, without exaggeration, equalled that of snow; poets could not say enough when they wished to laud them. Her bust was very fine, without being quite perfect. She was tail, and her bearing lofty but not haughty. She had great charms in 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 43 the expression of her face, and her beauty imprinted in the hearts of those who saw her a tenderness which did not lack the accompaniment of veneration and respect. Besides these perfections, she had the piety of her mother. Queen Marguerite of Austria, dead in the odour of sanctity, who, haviag had the care of her daughter's education, had im- printed in her heart the sentiments that filled her own; this it was that produced in her that great inclination to virtue which drew to her the grace, that God gave her throughout her life, to prefer it to all things else. The Court was at this time full of beautiful women. Among the princesses, she who was the first of them was also the first in beauty [the Princesse de Cond^]. "Without youth, she stUl excited the admiration of all who saw her. Her gift of beauty she shared with Mademoiselle de Bourbon, her daughter, who was beginning, though still young to reveal the first charms of that angelic face which later was to have such fame, — a fame followed by griev- ous events and salutary sufferings. I leave the Cardinal Bentivoglio, who has published in his writings the praises of Madame la Princesse, to tell of her adventures and of the passion King Henri IT. had for her ; I desire only to bear witness that her beauty was still great when in my childhood I lived at Court, and that it lasted to the end of her life. "We praised it dm-ing the regency of the queen, when she was over fifty, and praised it without flattery. She was fair and white, her eyes blue and per- fectly beautiful Her bearing was lofty and full of majesty, and her whole person, her manners being agreeable, always pleased, except when she prevented it herself hj a rude pride full of acerbity against those who ventm-ed to displease her; then she changed entirely, and became the aversion of those to whom she showed it. "We like. 44 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. naturally, whatever flatters us ; never can that which despises and affronts us be agreeable. E ritrosa hella ritroso cuor non preTide. After Madame la Princesse, such as I represent her, the Court had many beautiful women. Madame de Montbazon was one of those who made the greatest stir. She had extreme beauty with an extreme desire to please ; she was tall, and in her whole person we felt an air of freedom, gaiety, and hauteur. But her miad was not as fine as her body ; her lights were limited to her eyes, which imperiously demanded love. Her forehead was so well modelled and perfect that she always wore it uncovered without giviag it any added charm by the arrangement of her hair ; the out- line of her face was so handsome that, to let it be seen, she wore her hair ia very few curls. Her lips were not full; and for this reason her mouth seemed rather less prominent than was necessary to make her beauty quite perfect. She had fine teeth, and her neck was shaped like those the great sculptors represent to us in Greek and Koman beauties. She claimed imiversal admiration, and men paid her that tribute, ever vain, imperfect, and often criminal in its results and effects. I desire, nevertheless, to doubt, in the matter of gallantry, that which one ought never to believe, and which does not appear in evidence. But to show the character of her mind as to this, she told me one day when I saw her during the regency and praised before her one of my friends for being virtuous, that all women were equally so, and (with a laugh at me) she let me imderstand that she did not think much of that quality. Madame de Gu^men^e, her daughter-in-law, was also one of the handsomest women at Court, and did not yield to her in the quantity of her lovers, or in valuing that sort of good which ladies imagine to be great triumphs. She had a very 1611-1630] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 45 handsome face, all the features of which were equally per- fect. I heard the queen say, long afterwards, that on ball days when this one and that one was striving who should be most beautiful, she and Madame de Chevreuse, fearing Madame de G-u6men^e, did what they could by many inven- tions to prevent her from effacing their beauty; and that sometimes when she arrived in a state to cause jealousy to those most perfect they would go in concert to tell her she was not looking weU. On which, without consulting a mirror, she would go away quite terrified and hide herself ; by which artifice they often escaped the shame of not being the handsomest woman present. In the rank of those who were younger than Madame de Chevreuse, Madame de Montbazon, and Madame de. Gu^mende, was Madame la Princesse Marie [de Gonzague] , with whom Monsieur, the king's brother, had been in love, and whom the queen, his mother, Marie de' Medici, had put away for some time in the forest of Viacennes, fearing that he would marry her. She was afterwards married to the King of Poland. There was also Mademoiselle de Eohan, who was very beautiful ; she seemed to wish to make profes- sion of extreme virtue and great pride, both of which she maintained imtil the time of the regency, when we beheld her pride change to passion, and her virtue, as I shall tell elsewhere, forced her to marry a gentleman of quality [Henri Chabot], but much inferior to those she might have chosen. There were other handsome women, particularly Made- moiselle de Guise, estimable in all things and whose beauty was great and perfect. Mademoiselle de Vendome was also a fine woman. They deserve, with many others, a panegyric in their favour, but I shall pause only on Mademoiselle de Hautefort, who made, as soon as she came to Court, a greater effect than all the other beauties of whom I have 46 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. i. spoken. Her eyes were blue, large, and full of fire, her teeth white and even, and her complexion had the fairness and glow which belong to a blond beauty. The number of those who loved her was great ; but their chains were often made heavy to bear ; for though she was kind she was not tender, — severe, rather than hard, and naturally satirical. As soon as the king saw her he had an iaclination for her. The queen-mother, to whom she had been given as maid-of-honour, seeing this little spark of fire in the soul of a priace so shy of women, tried to light rather than eztin- guish it, ia order to gain his good graces by such compliance. But the piety of the king made him attach himself so little that I heard this very MUe. de Hautefort say later that he never talked to her of anything but dogs, birds, and huntiug ; and I have known her, with all her virtue, when telling me this history, laugh at him because he dared not come near her when conversiag with her. This passion was not strong enough to bring him as often to the queen-mother's apart- ment as he would have come had he been really in love with one of her ladies; instead of making her Court more gay and gallant, it only diminished the influence of the queen and increased that of the queen-mother. The latter was the absolute mistress of France, and her happiness seemed to be without a flaw ; but now came a change, which ought to show to all the world that no creature is safe from the blows of fortune, and that crowned heads, in being above those of other men, are the most exposed. n. 1630 — 1643. The queen-mother, having raised Cardinal Eichelieu, her favourite after Mar^ohal d'Anore, to the dignity of prime minister, she considered him her creature and believed she would always reign through him; but she deceived herself, and gained cruel experience of the little fidelity to be met with iu those who have unboimded ambition. I do not know what grounds of complaiut she had against him, and few per- sons have known them ; I have only heard say that, not being satisfied, she desired to ruin him, supposing it to be an easy thing to do, and that no one could object if, being mistress of her work, she destroyed it when she saw fit. But that which seems to us right when we wish it, is often not according to the impenetrable will of God, who does not choose that human judgment should be followed by events that would authorize it. I knew from the queen, who, not liking Cardinal Eichelieu, was glad to know all that was doing against him, when I put her on the topic, that on a journey to Lyon when the king was so Ul that he thought himself dying and the cardinal thought himself lost, the queen-mother (who was beginning to no longer defend him against those who did him ill turns with her in order to get his place) requested the king to dismiss him ; and that this prince after promising that he would and agreeing to send him away whenever she wished, begged her to let him stay a little longer on account of the plans he had about Italy ; so that Queen Marie de' Medici, satisfied with this willingness. 48 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. woiiLd not press her son to dismiss him immediately for fear of inconveniencing his affairs, and contented herself with his promise to do so whenever it pleased her. By this kiddness which deprived her of happiness for the rest of her life, she enabled the cardinal to get her sent away herself, though the mother and mother-in-law of the greatest kings in Europe. Marie de' Medici had given a queen to Spain, a sovereign to Savoie, a queen to England, and a king to France ; but all these dignities which environed her could not guarantee her from disaster. The Court having returned to Paris, she pressed the king to fulfil his promise, and, as she supposed the affair to present no difficulty, she was astonished to find that the king resisted it. He not only asked for time, but he urgently entreated her to forgive Cardinal Eichelieu. The queen-mother, siirprised and angry at the proposition, burst out against her son, shed tears, and reproached him, neglecting nothing that might win her the victory in this battle. But, far from succeeding, she found that her son and judge was in collusion against her with her enemy, and was quasi on his side. Cardinal Richelieu entered the room where they were together, to plead his cause in concert with the king. The queen-mother, all in tears and provoked that he had come into that room against her will, called him a traitor, told him it was true that she complained of him to the king, and railed against him with the strong feelings that always accompany great affronts and great hatreds. She did the same to his niece, the Duchesse d'Aiguillon, who entered towards the end of the conversation, treating her with the utmost contempt. But the cardinal, without showing surprise, threw himself at her feet and asked pardon on his knees, doing, so they say, all that he could to obtain it. The queen-mother, incensed 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 49 against her son for having refused her, and full of wrath against the servant whom she believed unfaithful, would not pardon him. Nor would she pardon the king himself, who knelt before her and seemed in great trouble. Finding him- self refused, without any plan of what came later but with a sense of grief for the quarrel, the king went off to Versailles to reflect on what he had better do. The cardinal, quite overcome, not knowing whether he ought to abandon all, took counsel with Cardinal de la Va- lette ; after which he followed the king, and served his own purposes so adroitly by the advantage that personal presence gives, that he made himself in a short time, or rather in a few hours, master of the king's mind. It was then deter- mined to arrest the Keeper of the Seals Marillac ; and there is little doubt that Cardinal Eichelieu began on this day to premeditate what was done later at Compifegne against the queen-mother, his benefactress. This day, so terrible in its effects and its changes, has since been very famous, because many persons who agreed with the queen-mother in wishing the dismissal of Cardinal Eichelieu, were duped in all their hopes and suffered for them. [This was the celebrated " Day of the Dupes," November 11, 1630.] Queen Marie de' Medici, by remaining in Paris at her house of the Luxembourg and not following the king, ruined her cause completely. She abandoned it in this way to the artfulness of her enemy, and ruiued at the same time the great seigneurs of the kingdom, who, hating the cardinal, had made common cause with her. It was said that the whole cabal had held certain councils against the cardinal in which each member had given his opinion ; and later he treated these persons according to the manner of their advice : Mar^chal de Marillac, who was said to have advised that he be killed as soon as the king abandoned him, he put to death VOL. I. — 4 50 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLB. [chap. ii. very unjustly ; Mar^chal de Bassompierre, who had proposed imprisoninent only, was put in prison himself, where he stayed twelve years; and so with the others, as the mard- chal, whom I knew later during the queen's regency, con- firmed to me. This was the first cause of all the many persecutions and exiles which made, during this century, so large a number of illustrious unfortunates. Monsieur, the king's brother, Gaston de France, who was ever at the head of all these cabals, was, with good reason, at the head of this one on accoimt of the queen his mother. Some time after this " day of the dupes " the Court went to Compiegne, the two queens in the best understanding on account of the hatred they united in feeling for Cardinal Eichelieu, and also because their fates began to be alike. The king, having the intention to arrest the queen his mother, was very restless ; although he had done the same thing before, the iniiuence of natm-e, which he now had to conquer at an age when he knew his duty better, weakened at times his resolution and made it imcertain. On the other hand, the minister, impatient to avenge himself, to satisfy and secure himself, turned many schemes over in his head ; while the queen-mother, ill-treated by her son, and little con- fident of succeeding in her designs, was far from tranquil in soul. A few days after their arrival, the day on which the des- tiny of so many great personages was to be fulfilled, a knock was given very early in the morning on the door of the queen's [Aime of Austria's] chamber. Hearing the soimd she woke, astonished, and called her women to know if, by chance, it could be the king at her door. He alone had the right to treat her with such familiarity. In that instant, having herself opened her curtains and seen that it was scarcely daylight, she was troubled by a thousand thoughts that 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 51 passed through her mind. As she always doubted, and with reason, of the king's good-will, she fancied they had come to bring her some fatal news which, at the least, might exile her from France. Eegarding this moment as one which might decide her whole life, she strove to gather up her strength to meet the blow with as much courage as possible. She had by nature a firm soul and a sufficiently resolute mind, and I do not doubt what she did me the honour to tell me afterwards when relating these particulars, that, the first moment over, she resolved without much difficulty to receive with submission whatever Heaven ordained for her. She bade them open the door, and her first waiting-woman returning to tell her it was the Keeper of the Seals who asked to speak with Her Majesty from the king, she was fully confirmed in her first belief. This apprehension was, however, soon removed by the speech of the envoy. He told her that, for certain reasons which concerned the wel- fare of the State, the king was obliged to leave his mother in that place under guard of Mar^chal d'Estr^es, and that he begged the queen not to, see her, but to rise and come to him at the Capucins, where he had already gone to await her. At this news the queen was much surprised, as any one who loved justice and right reason would be ; but she was comforted to find that the matter only touched her through the compassion she must feel for the queen, her mother- in-law. She replied to the king's commands by prompt obedience, and rose as quickly as she could to go to him. But not without first going to see the disgraced queen. She thought the king would pardon her that small disobedience, which pity alone induced her to commit ; but, by the advice of the Marquise de Senec^, her lady-of -honour, she sent to the unhappy queen-mother, to express the desire she had 52 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. to see her and speak to her on a matter of importance, though, for certain reasons, she dared not go to her unless she first sent to ask her to do so. The queen-mother, knowing nothing of this decision, although, in the position she felt herself to be in, she feared a return of aU the evils she had already borne, sent' Made- moiselle Catherine, her first waiting-woman, at once to do what the queen requested, a slyness asked solely to satisfy the king. The queen took only a dressing-gown and went in her night-dress to the queen-mother, whom she found sitting up in her bed. She was hugging her knees, and, not knowing what to think of this mystery, she cried out as the queen entered : " Ah ! my daughter, either I am dead or a prisoner. WiU the king leave me here? What does he mean to do with me ? " The queen, touched by compassion, flung herself into her arms, and though in the days of her favour the queen-mother had sometimes ill-used her, the position she was now in effaced such memories ; she wept for her downfall, she felt it, and showed a sincere regret for the king's decision, which she told her, and also the order for imprisonment. The two princesses parted, satisfied with each other and both much touched at seetag themselves the victims of Car- dinal Eichelieu, their common enemy. This was the last time they saw each other, for the queen-mother, alarmed at an imprisonment in Compifegne, escaped during the night [July 19, 1631] and went to Flanders, where the Infanta Clara-Eugenia, granddaughter of Charles V. and aunt of the queen, received her and treated her well. She received in the same manner Monsieur, the king's only brother, Gaston de France, who, after having threatened Cardinal Eichelieu, went to share with his mother the kindness of that great princess. 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 53 The queen, having satisfied by this pitying visit what she owed to one who so shortly before had seemed to have abso- lute power, went to the Capucins to meet the king, who was awaiting her in order to take her back to Paris. There, he made her a present of Mademoiselle de Hautefort, of whom I have already spoken, whom he had taken from the queen- mother; also of Madame de la Flote, Mademoiselle de Hautefort's grandmother, as lady of the bed-chamber. Some time later he gave the beautiful granddaughter the reversion of that office, in order that she might have the title of " Madame." The kiag, in presenting her to the queen, said that he begged her to like her and to treat her well for his sake. She was then without lady of the bed-chamber ; siace the dismissal of Madame Du Farges, whom she liked, she had never been willing, from vexation and revenge, to fill her place ; but she was now constraiued to accept all that the king chose to give her, for this was no time to say, " I will not." She received both ladies with the best face in the world, and though such presents do not usually please wives very much, it is nevertheless true that the queen loved Madame de Hautefort for herself, and that that beautiful and virtuous girl, esteeming the noble qualities of the queen, and sufficiently disgusted with the king's temper, gave her- self entirely to her, and was faithful to her through all her troubles. The king, some years later, angry at this change, wished to harm her; he ceased to love her much when she began to love the queen, and when he saw that she was entirely devoted to her, he ceased to love her at all. His resentment went so far at last that he dismissed her, and sent her back to her province, where she was when he died. After the great stroke at Compifegne, the king, to soften in some way the bitterness the people felt against him for 54 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. the imprisonment of his mother, and for rigours enforced against many private persons, treated the queen, his wife, rather better, and saw her oftener ; this pleased the people, because she was much loved. Cardinal Eichelieu, to con- ciliate her, brought back Madame de Chevreuse from Lor- raine where she had passed her exile ; no doubt that lady- promised him all he wanted of her. The cardinal, in spite of his severity against her, had never hated her. Her beauty had charms for him, but as she was allied with the queen and contraband with the queen-mother, ambition, which always carries the day over friendship, had forcibly removed her from the good graces of the minister. But after he had himself quarrelled with his benefactress, wishing to be recon- ciled with the queen and to gain alliance with her through her favourite, he brought the latter back to Court. After all this the king, following his natural inclinations, abandoned himself wholly to the power of the cardinal. He found himself reduced to the most melancholy, most miserable life in the world; without suite, without Comt, without power, and consequently without pleasure and with- out honour. In this way several years of his life were passed at Saint-Germain, where he lived like a private person, and while his armies were taking cities and fighting battles he was amusing himself by snaring birds. This prince was unhappy in every way; he did not love the queen, but on the contrary felt a coldness to her, and he was the martyr of Madame de Hautefort, whom he loved in spite of himself, and whom he could not resolve to send away from Court, though accusing her of laughing at him with the queen. Moreover, he had scruples about his attachment to her, and did not approve of himself. Jealous of the grandeur of his minister, though it came only from the part which he himself bestowed, he began to hate him when he saw the 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 55 extreme authority he assumed in his kingdom; and not being able to live happily either with or without him, he never was happy at all. The queen accustomed herself to her solitude as best she could, leading a pious and private life, and living only on news which her attendants and her friends brought to her. She made a few little intrigues against the cardiaal, or at least desired to make some that might ruin him. He only laughed at them, and his power increased through the need the kiag had of his counsels. He made all France adore him and obey the king, making his master his slave, and that illustrious slave the monarch of a great kingdom ! Amid such gloomy humours and dark fancies it would seem that a great passion could find no place in the king's heart. Nor did it after the fashion of men who find pleasure in it ; for this soul, accustomed to bitterness, had no tender- ness beyond that of feeling the more for his own pains and sorrows. But at last, weary of sufferiag, he dismissed, as I have said, Madame de Hautefort, and turned his inclinations to a new object whose brunette beauty was not so dazzling, but who, with beautiful features and much charm, had also great sweetness and strength of mind. La Fayette, maid-of- honour to the queen [Louise Motier de La Fayette], amiable and proud both, was the one he loved; and it was to her that he unbosomed himself most about the cardinal, and the vexation that his power gave him. As this young girl had an upright heart she did not fail to keep the secrecy she owed to the king. She strengthened him in his aversion from the regard she felt for him, think- ing him dishonoured by too basely allowing himself to be governed by the minister. The cardinal did his best to win her over, as he did all persons who approached the king ; but she possessed more courage than the men of the 56 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. Court, who had the baseness to tell the cardinal what- ever the king said against him. They feared, if they were faithful, to lose benefits, and their interests seemed to them something better than integrity. They feared also that the king, ever timid, would betray them, and they wished to be the first to betray. But a young girl had a finer and firmer soul than they ; she resolved to do right, and had the courage to despise Ul-fortune through a secret resolution which she made in her heart to become a nun. The king, finding in her as much security and virtue as beauty, respected and loved her ; and I know that he had thoughts about her that were far above the common affec- tions of mankind. The same sentiment which made this generous girl refuse all relations with Cardinal Eichelieu also made her live imder some reserve with the queen. Not that she did her any Hi-offices, as her rival, Madame de Hautefort, tried to persuade the queen she did — she was too virtuous for that ; and the queen knew, later, the good- ness and generosity of her whole conduct. But the fact is she liked the king, and said so openly ; for a pure and honour- able friendship can be owned without shame. And truly, the virtue and propriety of the king, which equalled that of the most modest woman, controlled him strictly ; so that she felt she ought to repay that virtuous affection by great fidelity to his confidences. I am assured that she was the only person who ever had such feelings towards him, and consequently the only one who could have made the happi- ness of his life. An attachment so great and so perfect could not fail to please the king and displease the queen, though the latter was used to the misfortune of not being loved by her hus- band. This deprivation of a happiness she desired and thought her due, in whatever way it was seasoned to her, 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 57 did not fail to seem to her very hard and disagreeable. La Fayette, avowing openly that she loved the king, and in the manner he seemed to wish, might have made the happiness of his life. But the king was not fated to be happy ; he could not keep his treasure. It was said that the cardinal made use of his piety to deprive him of it, and that, not being able to have La Fayette in his own pay, he used her confessor to give her scruples as to her compliance to the king, which idea was so shrewdly managed by the confessors of both that the love of God triumphed over human love ; La Fayette retired to a convent, and the king resolved to permit it. The truth is, that God destiaed her for that happiness, in spite of the malice and false arguments of the Court people. PSre Caussin, confessor of the king, has him- self written ia his Memoirs (which the Comte de Maure, to whom he confided them, showed me) that instead of adher- ing to Cardinal Eichelieu, as he was supposed to have done, he advised her, in view of the innocent intentions with which he credited her, not to make herself a nun ; thioking that he would himself use her to inspire the king to recall the queen-mother, and govern the kingdom himself. But she, who was urged by Him who gives the will and the power to do, did not hesitate long between God and His creatures. Perhaps also she saw with some vexation the intrigue that was forming against her, and pride mingled with virtue had some share in her retreat. It was even suspected that her relation, Madame de Senec^ had tried to give her over to the cardinal. I do not know the ground or the details of this accusation; I know only that she begged the king's confessor to go to him and ask permission that she might quit the Court and enter a con- vent. Pfere Caussin describes in his memoirs the pains he took to examine into the vocation of La Fayette, and to 58 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. give the king the advice he asked of him. He states that the king seemed much afflicted at the resolution of the vir- tuous young girl, and threw himself back into the bed from which he had risen when the father began to speak to him, weepiag, and complaining that she wanted to leave him ; but at last, having conquered the tortures of his grief by his piety, he made him this answer : " It is true she is very dear to me ; but if God calls her to religion, I vdll put no hindrance to it." This permission being once obtained, she was seen to leave the Court suddenly, in spite of the tears of the king and the joy of her enemies, which, as she told me afterwards, were the only things to conquer. It needed great strength of mind to put herself above that weakness, for though the king was not gallant, the ladies of the Court were none the less glad to please him. Among others, Madame de Haute- fort was far from sorry at her retirement; she was not ashamed to be thought her rival; and there was no prude who did not aspire to be loved by the king as he had loved La Fayette — for everybody was convinced that the passion she had for him was not incompatible with virtue. When she parted from him she talked to him long before all the company in the queen's room, where she went as soon as she had received his permission to leave. No change appeared on her face ; she had the strength not to give a single tear to those which the king shed publicly. After quitting him, she took leave of the queen, who could not like her; she did this with gentleness and the satisfaction a Christian must have in seeking God, wishing to love but Him on earth, and to desire only eternity. The king was not long without going to see her at the convent of the daughters of Sainte-Marie, in the rue Saint- Antoine, which she had chosen for her life-long place of 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 59 rest and the haven of her salvation. The first few times he went there he stayed so long before her grating that Car- dinal Richelieu, thrown into fresh alarms, resumed his in- trigues to detach the king wholly from her. He succeeded finally and found means to take from his master the con- solation of sharing his griefs with the only person he had found discreet and faithful enough to confide in, and one with a spirit that was soft and pleasant enough to soothe them. It was to the king as cruel a deed as that of a rob- ber on the highway who takes from a traveller his all ; for the greatest of the blessiags of life is the love of a faithful friend; and if my uncle, the Bishop of Sdez, says in his poems, with the approval of everybody, that to love a young beauty is " the sweetest error of earth's vanities," it is even more true to say that to love solidly as the king loved La Fayette was the sweetest of all innocent pleasures. I cannot, however, refrain, while on the subject of this pure and beautiful love between a prince so pious and a girl so virtuous, from relating a strong proof of the corruption which may always be met with in attachments of feeling which count themselves pure. I heard this from La Fay- ette herself who, being at Chaillot [where she founded the Convent of the Visitation] and my friend, talked with me confidentially. She told me that in her last days at Court, before she had fully resolved to enter religion, the king, so wise and so constant in virtue, had, nevertheless, certain moments of weakness in which, ceasing to be modest, he had pressed her to consent that he should place her at Versailles, to live under his orders and to be wholly his ; and that this proposal, so contrary to his usual sentiments, having alarmed her, was the cause of her resolving more quickly to leave the Court and take vows upon herself which must remove from his mind all sentiments of that nature. 60 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. For some time nature struggled against grace, but grace was at last victorious. Otherwise the king would never have consented so easily that she might enter a convent ; but as soon as she was there, he had no pain in seeing her ia a nun's dress, nor had she any in seeing him before the grat- ing ; both were far away from a desire to maintain an inter- course for which they might have scruples. But in order to have peace with his minister, he consented to lose this one satisfaction that remained to him, and he left her to give her- self entirely to Him who gives to all according to their ac- tions, contenting himself with now and then sending a priest from Saint-Germain to bring him news of her. I know that this piety brought him to certain thoughts of inward retreat; and though he still went sometimes to see her, it was to talk over designs known to none but herself, which would have astonished Europe had they been executed. But God was satisfied with his intention, and, to reward him for the sacrifice he wished to make to Him, He granted the prayers of his subjects by taking from him those melan- choly thoughts which prevented his living well with the queen, who at last became pregnant. It is even said that La Fayette was a secondary cause of the queen's pregnancy. Having stayed with her too late to return to Saint-Germain as he intended, he was constrained to go to the Louvre and share the bed of the queen, who had come to Paris for af- fairs of no importance ; and it is said that this gave us, Sep- tember 5, 1638, our present reigning king, Louis XIV. In the beginning of this pregnancy the king showed much satisfaction and even tenderness for the queen's person. But this comfort lasted but a short time, and when she was delivered it was necessary to urge him to approach her and kiss her. All France supposed that after giving to the king a 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 61 dauphin the queen would have some influence, but as the minister was not on her side, and she was too generous to seek him, she remained in the same condition as before. As an increase of favour, however, God gave her a second son, Philippe de France, on the 21st of September, 1640, for which the king, as I have heard the queen say, showed far more pleasure than at the birth of the first, because he did not expect the great happiness of being father of two children, he who had feared he might have none at all. But it is a strange thing that the dauphin was only three years old when he began to cause him grief and umbrage. The queen did me the honour to tell me that one day, after a hunting party, the little prince, seeing his father in a night-cap, began to cry and was frightened, not being accustomed to see him thus, and the king was angry as if it were a matter of the greatest consequence, complaining to the queen and reproaching her for bringing up her son to aversion for his person, and roughly threatening to take away from her both her children. But when the king started for a journey to Narbonne he had with him his equerry Cinq-Mars, a man whom Cardinal Eichelieu had given him as a favourite after the loss of La Fayette. Whether it was by Cinq-Mars' advice or of his own motion, he spoke to the queen in another manner. Bidding her farewell, he said quite cordially that he begged her to take good care of his children, and not to quit them — which she religiously obeyed. Besides the interest that she had in their preser- vation she fastened all her pleasure to the agreeable oc- cupation of seeing and caressing them. December 4, 1642, Cardinal Eichelieu died gloriously in Paris at his own house, with the tranquillity of a private individual, and in the arms of his king, whom he made his heir in many things. He received aU the sacraments. He 62 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. died, laden with honours and glory, in the lustre of many virtues and the shame of great defects, of which cruelty and tyranny were the chief. It may be said of him that he acquired a great reputation by procuring the good of the State and the power and grandeur of his prince. The harshness with which he treated the queen-mother, his mis- tress and his benefactress, during her exile, lessens by a great deal the eulogy that is due to his memory; and his cruelty towards many private persons makes him infinitely blamable. He died finally with the aspect of a saint, not having lived in all things the life of a Christian. I have heard it said that he asked a bishop if he could die in peace without having made restitution of the property he had taken from the public and from private persons, sometimes unjustly; and the bishop, accustomed to flatter him, having answered yes, that the great benefits he had done to France rendered his own legitimate, he begged him to give him that opinion in writing; and that writing he put very carefully under the pUlow of his bed, as if to serve as justification before God of his iniquities. What seems to me strange is that a man more able and possessing more knowledge than the man on whom he laid the burden of his scruple, should be wiHing to deceive himself in a matter where he alone could be the judge, and his own conscience the most faithful instructor he could consult.^ He seemed so content with having triumphed over his enemies that his chaplain could not refrain from urging him to forgive them; to which he answered that he had never had any enemies but those of the State. He had written books on the Education and on the Perfection of Christians ; therefore he ought to have known in what they consisted. Nevertheless the Bishop of Nantes, Cospean, 1 On the margin is written : " This is not a certain thing." ? Chanipaigrie ryrtu^a/ x£e ^JcccAel^e 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 63 esteemed for his virtue and piety, who was afterwards Bishop of Lizieux, having gone to see him at the close of Ms life, said aloud, as he left the room after conversing with him, that his tranquillity astonished him. And they say that Pope Urbain VIII., hearing of his death and of his life, remarked, with a great exclamation : Ah ! die se gli i un Bio, ben tosto lo 'pagarh ; ma veramente se non c'i Dio, h galantuomo. ("Ah! if there is a God he will soon pay for it ; but truly if there is no God, he is an able man.") An Italian friend of mine, whom I asked if that were true, told me it was true, and it was not surprising, for the good pope often jested and said witty things, but all the same he was a great man and had virtue — which does not accord very well with such jokes. The queen, after this death, which did not afflict her much, began to foresee her coming power by the crowd that now surrounded her. It was not because the king showed' her more consideration. The cardinal had worked with such care to destroy her in his mind that she could never obtain a better place there; and the prince himself was by nature so gloomy, and at this time so crushed by his woes that he was no longer capable of any feeling of tenderness for one whom he had never been accustomed to treat well. But, serenity having returned to the faces of the courtiers, and this change giving hope and consequently joy to all, they began to consider the queen as the mother of two princes and the wife of a sickly king. She was nearing the period of a regency which would surely be a long one ; so that now she was regarded as a rising sun from which each in particular expected to receive in his turn a favourable influence. The king, though ill, attended to all business, and publicly announced that he would have no other governor. He 64 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ii. sent pardons to criminals, opened the prisons, suffered exiles to return, and did all that was needed to persuade his people that the late cruelties had not been done by himself and that his inclinations were far removed from them. All this mildness and calm caused the present reign to be blessed and the late severity detested; but it did not last long, for the king died shortly after. He had called to the miaistry Cardinal Mazarin, an Italian by birth, but half Spanish from the years he had passed in Spain, and a friend of Cardinal Eichelieu. It is to be supposed that he would have gained power over the king had the latter lived, for he knew how to please when he chose. This was the state of the Court when France lost the king. He was still young, but so broken by fatigues, wor- ries, remedies, and hunting, that, feeling he could not live any longer, he resolved to die well in order to live eternally. He did it in a manner that was quite extraordinary. No one ever showed such constancy in suffering, such firmness in the certain thought of his end, or such indifference to life. He had always been unhappy because he had subjected himself to others, following the passions of his favourites rather than his own sentiments. This submission had led him to commit faults for which he repented within himself. There is reason to think that the innocent passions he had felt for Madame de Hautefort and La Fayette had caused him nothing but grief and a few moments of weakness which God had given him the grace to surmount; for he always appeared to fear God, and they both believed him very scrupulous, — worthy in that of great praise if in other things he had shown the same strength. It was in his last days, in view of the judgments of God, that he repented keenly for having failed in keeping one of His first commandments. Cardinal Eichelieu was no 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 65 longer with him to maintain the exile of the queen-mother as necessary to the State ; and, examining himself sincerely on that matter, what he had done against her now seemed to him as terrible as it really was. He openly asked pardon of God for it with great signs of a true repentance, and he did apparently all that a good Christian is bound to do, with sentiments of piety and marks of perfect faith. He had said to Chavigny at the beguming of his illness that he felt a cruel distress for two things : first, for having ill- treated his mother, who had lately died [Marie de' Medici died at Cologne July 3, 1642], and secondly, for not having made peace. Towards the end of the king's illness, when M. de Cha- vigny saw that the doctors considered the king had no hope of escaping, he took upon himself to warn him of the state in which he was ; which he did, while softeniog the harshness of the news as much as possible. Nevertheless, he represented to him with strength and courage that although he was a great prince he was on an equality with the least of men in death, and ended by sayiag it was time for him to think of quitting life. The king embraced him, and said, as he pressed him in his arms, that he thanked him for that good news, and assured him that he had never felt such joy in life as he received in hearing he was about to lose it. He made him withdraw that he might think of his con- science and his affairs; then, after passing half an hour alone, he recalled him and said, "M. de Chavigny, let us now think of business.'' They then made the plan of his will, in which he declared the queen regent. Madame de Chavigny told me that her husband, who had more share in this than Cardinal Mazarin, could have had Monsieur, the king's brother, appointed, the latter having requested him to do so ; but he held good for the queen, thinking he VOL. I. — 5 66 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. il could thus serve his own interests better, in which he was much mistaken. The queen did not like him, and those about her had already resolved on his downfall. After this, the queen entered the council, and the king made the chancellor read the declaration, the plan of which had been written by Chavigny and adopted by the king. It was read in presence of the parliament and of the nobles of the kingdom. The king required the queen to swear that she would observe it inviolably. This she was obliged to do; but she did it with an intention contrary to the king's wishes as to certain persons, some of whom had gained his hatred, others his friendship. The king had wished to put in a clause that the Keeper of the Seals, Chateauneuf, and Madame de Chevreuse should be forever removed from the Court, as dangerous persons, whose minds were always to be feared. He was dissuaded by those who wished to please the coming regent, and who dared no longer act except in harmony with her. When the reader of the declaration came to the place where this was omitted the king, who was then moribund, fearing those two persons as favourites of the queen, rose in his bed and said aloud, " That is devilish, that ! " [ Voila le diahle, cela .'] Sdguin, the queen's head doctor told me that two hours before the king's death, as he passed before his bed, he made him a sign with his head and eyes to come to him, and holding out his hand said in a firm voice : " S^guin, feel my pulse, and tell me, I beg of you, how many more hours I have to live ; but feel it carefully, for I should be glad to know the truth." The doctor, seeing his firmness, and not wishing to disguise a truth which he saw would not frighten him, said, quite coolly : " Sire, your Majesty may have two, or three hours at the most." On which the king, clasping his hands and turning his eyes to heaven, said softly, with- 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 67 out showing any alteration whatever, "Then, my God, I consent, with all my heart." And shortly after he closed his eyes forever. May 14, 1643, aged forty-two years only. The queen seemed sincerely afflicted. She went at once to the little dauphin, or rather the king ; whom she saluted and embraced with tears in her eyes as her king and child. It may be said that she and all France did right to weep for the king, who, according to his lights and his sentiments, might even then have governed his kingdom gloriously. He had defects which effaced him from the hearts of his subjects and of all his family ; but he had also great virtues, which, for his misfortune, have never been sufficiently known ; and the subjection of his will to that of his minis- ter had smothered all these nobler qualities. He was full of piety and zeal for the service of God and the grandeur of the Church ; and his greatest joy in taking La Eochelle and other places was the thought that he would drive all heretics from his kingdom and purge it in this way of the different religions which spoil and infect the Church of God. He was, as I have heard his most intimate favourites say, one of the best soldiers of his kingdom. He knew war, and he was valiant. I know this from those who in their youth were with him in danger, when he seemed not to fear it. He loved the officers on service, and this was the only matter he did not abandon to his minister. He himself knew the men of true courage, who had done fine actions, and he took great care to reward them. His keen- est vexation against the cardinal was that he often wanted to command his army in person, and the cardinal, fearing to let him go among such a crowd of his own enemies, always opposed it and prevented it by a thousand contrivances. He had much intelligence and knowledge ; Cardinal Eiche- 68 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. £ohap. ii. lieu himself said of Mm on several occasions that in his council he was always of the right opinion, and often found expedients in the most embarrassing matters. I have heard the Due de Saint-Simon, who was with him on the day he quarjelled with the queen-mother, say that he would not give up Cardinal Eichelieu when she asked it, from a prin- ciple of justice, because he was convinced that he had not been unfaithful to him ; that it was the Mar^chal de Maril- lac and the Mar^chal de Bassompierre and several others who, having formed a cabal with the Princesse de Conti against Cardinal Eichelieu, wanted, for their own private interests, to use the queen-mother as a buckler against him ; and that the kiag, knowrag the services he had rendered him, thought himself obliged to uphold him ; but that never had he any thought of injuring the queen his mother to save the cardinal; on the contrary, his design was to keep his minister without failing in respect to her ; and that the first thing that alienated him from her was her urging him to dismiss the cardinal, and, having gone upon his knees before her to soften her, that she had no regard to his submission or to his prayers. It was this that caused him some vexa- tion, so that he went to Versailles, where the cardinal, by the advice of friends, followed him. At first the minister wished to retire, but the king said to him : " No, Monsieur le Cardinal, I will not allow it ; you have done no wrong to the queen my mother; if you had, I would never see you again ; but knowing that all these things are being done by a cabal, and that you have served me well, I should not be just if I abandoned you." Other persons of that time have also assured me that he never had any plan for what happened afterwards at Com- pifegne. But soon after this [Day of Dupes] the cardinal made htm understand that he must break up the cabal which 1630-1643] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 69 was instigating the queen-mother to embroil the State ; and for that purpose she must be arrested for some little time, after which, her party being dead or imprisoned, it would be easy to bring her back again. But, the queen-mother having escaped to Flanders (which was, they say, arranged by the cardinal himself), it was easy for him to disguise the truth from the king her son, and persuade him that her absence was necessary for the peace of his kingdom. That is what may be said to excuse the greatest fault which the king committed; for as to the death of the Mar^chal d'Ancre, there was never any sign that he ordered it, or the indigni- ■ties that accompanied it, which must be attributed to the little discretion of those who had the order to arrest him, to the resistance offered by the attendants of the marechal, and to the hatred that the people had to him. Conse- quently, that matter did not prevent the king from ob- taining the title of Just. Nor has any one ever doubted that he was brave, and that he knew how to take an army into battle as well as any of his generals. But, besides these great qualities so necessary to great kings, he knew many things to which melancholy minds are wont to devote themselves, such as music and the mechanical arts, for which he had great skill and a peculiar talent. m. 1643— 1644. We now come to the regency of the queen [May 15, 1643], where we shall see, as in a picture, the various revo- lutions of fortune ; of what nature is that climate called the Court ; its corruption, and how fortunate should they esteem themselves who are not fated to live there. The air is never sweet or serene for any one. Even those who, apparently • in perfect prosperity, are adored as gods, are the ones most threatened by tempests. The thimder growls incessantly for great and small; and those whom their compatriots regard with envy know no calm. It is a windy, gloomy region, filled with perpetual storms. Men live there little, and during the time that fortime keeps them there, they are always ill of that contagious malady, ambition, which kills their peace, gnaws their heart, sends fumes to their head and often deprives them of reason. This disease gives them a continual disgust for better things. They are ignorant of the value of equity, justice, kindliness. The sweetness of life, of innocent pleasures, of all that the sages of antiquity counted as good, seem to them ridiculous ; they are incapable of knowing virtue and following its precepts, unless chance may happen to remove them from this region. Then, if they can by absence be cured of their malady, they become wise, they become enlightened ; and no man can be so good a Christian or so truly a philosopher as a disillusioned courtier. On the morrow of the death of King Louis XIII., King Louis XIV., the queen. Monsieur le Due d'Anjou, the Due •_ '^/i /le c^ ■^^ti.j^t/-^ 1643-1644] MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 71 d'Orl^ans, and the Prince de Condd quitted Saint-Germain to come to Paris. The body of the late king was left alone at Saint-Germain, without other surroundings than the peo- ple, who flocked to see it out of curiosity rather than tender- ness. The Due de Vendome remained there to do the honours, and the Marquis de Souvr^, gentleman of the bed- chamber on service, to do his duty. Of all the people of quality who were paying their court the night before, not one remained to pay respect to his memory; they aU ran after the regent. The queen had many on her side in the parliament ; among them its president, Barillon, who had been at all times attached to her person. All were of opinion that the queen should not be satisfied with a restricted regency as provided by the king, and that she ought to make use of the parliament to render her mistress of everything. She liked the proposal extremely, for it put her in a position to break her chains and dismiss those persons whom the king had appointed to take part in all delibera- tions. Ghavigny and his father [President Bouthillier] were the ones she particularly desired to remove, as the creatures of Eichelieu and hated by those who were now the most powerful about her. On the other hand, the parliament desired to find occasion to recover the authority it had lost imder the late king; and the able men of this assembly esteemed it fortimate that the queen (who thought that the late king had not treated her properly in his will) should wish to use them to receive from their hands the sovereign power which the king had seemed to take from her by ordaining that, in the council of regency, affairs should be determined by a plurality of votes. She herself could scarcely endure that restraint, and those who hoped to have a share in her confidence wished her to have the power to 72 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. dismiss some of those wlio were appoiated, in order that they might take their places. The offers of the parliament gentry to annul the declara- tion of the king ia its present form were accepted. I have since heard Cardinal Mazarin say that the queen did them too much honour in putting them above the king's wishes and giving them the power to ordain a thing of so much consequence. She went to parliament, where, with the con- sent of Monsieur, Due d'Orldans, and the Prince de Condd, she was declared regent, without the appointment of a council. The queen was in deep mourning, and took with her the king, who was still in his bibs and was carried by the Due de Chevreuse, his grand chamberlain, and accom- panied by the Due d'Orl^ans, his uncle, and the Prince de Cond^ first prince of the blood, the dukes and peers, the marshals of France, and the whole council. The chancellor, Siguier, made an harangue that was worthy of the esteem he had acquired; and, after exalting the virtues of the queen, he thanked Heaven for having given to France a regent from whom they might hope to gain a general peace and the repose of the State. He then called for votes on the clause of the regency. Monsieur, uncle of the king, promptly and without hesitating, gave his in its favour ; declaring that of his own will he made over to the queen all the power which, as only brother of the late king, he could have claimed in the kingdom in order that her regency might be more absolute and her will unlimited. The Prince de Cond^ said, in his turn, that since Monsieur so desired it he consented. I have heard the queen say, as to that consent, that it was by no means as frank as that of Monsieur, and that she noticed on his face a repugnance to give it ; and also that the difficulty he seemed to have in resolving to do so made her feel more obligations to Mon- 1643-1644] MEJIOIKS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 73 sieur, whose power would have been much greater had hers been limited, which it would have been had he voted as the Prince de Cond^ wished. As she knew the opposition of the one, she must also have felt the yieldkig of the other ; which, in truth, was surpris- ing, seeing that it is not natural to give up so easily one's share in a great benefit. Many persons ascribed it to weakness, and this weakness to the selfish interests of his favourite, the Abb^ de la Eivifere, who was accused of de- taching him from ambitious sentiments in the hope of mak- ing his own private fortune through the benefactions of the queen, rather than by leading his master to great projects — for which he may have thought him incapable, for the soul of that prince was not turned to things heroic. How- ever that maj' be, the two lions were tamed, and ilonsieur contented himself with the station of generalissimo of the armies of France, — very different in that from the king his father, Henri le Grand, of whom it was said that never was there a better king nor a worse prince of the blood. Indeed the great qualities that make a great king do always pre- vent the first prince of the blood from being peaceable and without factioiL As soon as the queen saw herself independent and abso- lute mistress, she dismissed Chavigny from the council, and took the finances from his father, Bouthillier, to give them to President de BaOleul, whom she knew to have much integrity, without knowing if he had any talent for that o£&ce. At the same time she sent to Rome to ask for a cardinal's hat for the Bishop of Beauvais, recalled the Duchesse de Chevreuse from exile, and did favours to many private persons without regarding the just measure that the great are bound to examine, but which she did not duly observe because as yet she did not know the value of her 74 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. liberalities, while every one hastened to ask favours of her boldly and refusal gave her too much pain to inflict. The Due de VendSme, and his whole family, had so far gained more than any one by the king's death ; and particu- larly his youngest son, the Due de Beaufort, for the queen during the last days of the king's illness had confided to the latter the care of her children. The fame of this confidence had attracted so many persons to him that he seemed for a time to be master of the Court. The queen had intended to take the government of Havre from the Duchesse d'Aiguillon and give it to the Prince de Marsillac, a friend of Madame de Chevreuse and Madame de Hautefort, who was very handsome, had much wit and many ideas, and whose extraordinary merit destined him to cut a great figure in the world. The duchess, Eichelieu's niece, who had played a great part during the ministry of her uncle, now commanded in Havre, and that government was left to her by consent of the late king, to hold it for her nephews. This lady, who by her fine qualities surpassed ordinary women in many ways, was so well able to defend her cause that she almost convinced the queen that it was necessary for her service to leave her in that important place, telling her that having none but enemies now in France, she could have no safety or refuge, except under the protection of her Majesty, who would always be her mistress, while, on the contrary, the Prince de Marsillac to whom she was giving the government was too clever, too capable of ambitious designs, and might at the least affront join some cabal; it was, therefore, important for the good of the service that she should keep this place safe for the king. The tears of a woman who had once been so proud arrested the queen in the first place, and then, after reflecting on these reasons, she thought it best to leave things as they were. 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 75 The complaints of the Prince de Marsillac were many ; he murmui-ed publicly against the queen, and, on the first occasion that presented itself, he let her see that he felt her change, and was resolved to abandon her interests and take others ia revenge, which was iu pai-t the cause of all our woes. The Bishop of Beauvais did not maintain public affans with the force and capacity a prime minister ought to have ; the queen, drawn from a life of great idleness, and by nature lazy, felt herself completely overwhelmed by so gi-eat a burden. She was not long without seeing that she needed help, and that it was impossible for her to govern a State as large as France, or distinguish all alone the interests of the people and those of the nobles, which are two very different things ; it is certain, moreover, that a long time was needed to examine that question, which would harass the greatest minds if they were not accustomed to toil, and had no knowledge of public business. That which gave the greatest trouble to the queen was the desire she had to satisfy, as far as she could, those who demanded justice for the losses they declared they had borne under the ministry of Cardinal Eichelieu, who came in great numbers and were very difficult to content. In this interval of disgust and embarrassment. Cardinal Mazarin, appointed by the late king as one of the council, was lucky enough to be fated, and then chosen by the queen, to fill that place. She had not dismissed him, because she had no dislike to him; and as he was very able he had won the favom of the Prince de Condd, who did not like the Yendomes, and he had put into his interests the Due d'Orl^ans' favourite, the Abb^ de la Eivifere, who was not of their party. At the same time he acquired as friends those who were 76 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. servants of the queen without being of the Vendome cabal ; such as the Marquis de Liancourt, the Marquis de Morte- mart, Beringhen, and Lord Montague, an Englishtaan whom the queen had known in the days of Buckingham, and who retained a familiarity with her. The first two were recommended by the regard the late king had felt for them, and the last two by the confidence the queen reposed in them. They were all former courtiers who esteemed Car- dinal Mazarin, having known him long before in France with Cardinal Eiohelieu, and they now gave all their atten- tion to persuading the queen of his ability. They had not much trouble in succeeding, for the queen was already dis- . gusted with the Bishop of Beauvais, so much so that by her own inclination she was quite disposed to make use of the cardinal, whose wit and person pleased her in the first conversation she had with him. During the life of the late king she had quite often signified, in speaking of Cardinal Mazaria, that she esteemed him, and to those in whom she confided she declared she was not sorry to see him in order to iaform herself about foreign affairs, of which he had a perfect knowledge, and in which the late king had employed him. Following, therefore, her personal sentiments, the advice of some of her best servants, and the desire of the Due d'Orl^ans and the Prince de Cond^ who declared they esteemed him, she willingly gave him her confidence, yielded her authority to him, and allowed him to acquire within a few days the highest degree of favour in her heart, while those who believed they possessed it solely never imagined that he dared to even think of it. This insinuating process was so easily carried on in the soul of the queen that the cardinal became in short time master of the council, the Bishop of Beauvais diminishing in power in proportion as that of his competitor increased; 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 77 the new minister beginning from this time to come every evening to the queen, and hold long conferences with her. His gentle, humble manner, beneath which were hidden his ambition and his designs, made the opposite cabal have almost no fear of him ; they regarded him at first with the assumption that favour inspires. But the fickle creature to whom imder the name of Fortune pagans burn incense, desiring, as usual, to mock at those who follow her, aban- doned them all to give herself wholly to a foreigner, and raise him suddenly from the first rung of the ladder to the highest a private individual could reach, above all the princes and grandees of the kingdom. While these intrigues were tangling in the cabinet, G-od was favourably taking part in our affairs in the field. The Prince de Condd had a son, the Due d'Enghien. He had married in spite of his father a niece of Cardinal Eichelieu, and commanded the armies when the king died. At the beginning of the regency he won a battle before Eocroy, which strengthened the good fortune of the queen, and was the first of the fine actions of that young prince, then twenty- two years of age, so brave and with so great a genius for war that the greatest captains of antiquity can scarcely be compared with him. The late king, a few days before his death, dreamed that he saw him giving battle and defeating the enemy at the very spot. This is a matter worthy of wonder, which ought to cause respect for the memory of the king, who, dying amid sufferings, and quitting the world with joy, seems to have had some light upon the future. This victory, won at the beginning of the queen's regency, was a good omen for what might follow, and, by making her feared without, put her in a position to manage all things within the kingdom. But the princes of Vendome and the Bishop of Beauvais were growing uneasy. They 78 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap, iil now wished to oppose the new-comer, Cardmal Mazarin, and drive him away as an interloper, not liking that any one should share the influence they had with the queen. But they were not able to succeed, and what they did only served to ruin them, I have heard it said by Mar^chal d'Estrdes, uncle of the Due de Vendome and brother of the Duchesse de Beaufort whom Henri IV. had thought of marrying, that Cardinal Mazarin, iti the early days of the regency, not knowing which side to turn, tried at first to join that cabal, as the one best established in the mind of the queen, and that he asked him, the mar^chal, to be his negotiator ; and as he was interested in the fortunes of these princes, being their nearest relative, he did his best to attach them to Cardinal Mazarin, whom he had known in Eome when he was sent there as ambassador. He thought him a great politician and a great courtier, and liked him, in consequence, doubly, believing that his ability and his shrewdness of mind would infallibly raise him to favour. It depended, therefore, solely on the Vendome princes whether or not he joined their for- tunes ; but they refused his friendship, from the hatred they felt to everything connected with Cardinal Eichelieu. They could not help seeing, however, that he was a man to fear, not only for his ability, but for his charming manners which might make him beloved by the queen. The VendQme princes having thus missed their opportu- nity and refused alliance with Cardinal Mazarin, the for- times of that minister took a turn, but only to rise the faster and show the inconstancy of the things of this world. I know from the queen that one evening ia the early days of her power she asked Lord Montague, who often spoke to her of Cardinal Mazarin, whether she could trust him, and what his natural temper was; and that Lord Montague 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 79 having told her, in his praise, that he was the opposite in all things of Cardinal Eichelieu, that answer seemed to her such great eulogy, through the hatred she had to the memory of the dead man, that it helped her much in determining to use him. And after she had taken this resolution it was so fully confirmed daily that it soon became immovable ; and he, as prime minister, took the habit, as I said before, of com- ing every evening to converse with her. These conferences began from that time to be called " the little council." He remained a long time with the queen, all the doors being open to the place where she was. He related to her the various foreign affairs of which he had been master during the lifetime of the late king, having made himself (before becoming cardinal) capable of serving her well through the many high offices he had filled, whether in foreign affairs and in the interests of various princes, the King of Spain, and the Due de Savoie, or through the services he had given to France (which made him a cardinal) and the lessons he had derived from that able minister Cardinal Eichelieu — whom would to God he had more closely resembled in certain ways. It is not astonishing that the queen followed his advice. The great reputation he had acquired in Italy, where, by a flourish of his hat, he was able, though at that time only il Signor Giulio, to stop the armies on the point of combat- ing, won him that of cardinal ; and the great affairs he had negotiated with Cardinal Richelieu made the latter conceive so high an esteem for him that, intending to make him his successor, he had given him all the instructions necessary to serve France, binding him firmly to carry out his principles and perfect them. Every one knew that Cardinal Mazarin had been named in the declaration of the late king as prime minister, because 80 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. Cardinal Eichelieu, before dying, had assured the kiag that he knew no one more capable than he of filling the place. And this declaration the queen made use of to obtaia approval for her own choice of him. I know, as to that, that this lucky minister, beiag persuaded of his luck by that which he had already found ta all phases of his life, said to one of his friends (the Mardchale d'Estrdes), while the decision was pending, that he was not troubled on that point, but merely that he did not as yet see how to spiegar le vele piil larghe (put on all sail). Here, then, was Cardinal Mazarin, his favour already con- spicuous through the crowd that was beginning to surround him. He replaced Chavigny in the ministry, being unable not to keep his word or refuse his obligations to those who had placed him near the queen, but he held him aloof from his confidence. He confirmed the queen in the inclina- tion she had to allow the Duchesse d'AguUlon to retain Havre, and he prevented her from ruining the relatives of Cardinal Eichelieu by telling her that they, having no pro- tection but hers, would doubtless be the ones who would serve her best. He did his duty in sustaining those who were left of a great man to whom he owed his grandeur. But, besides this reason, it was shrewd policy, seeing that he had this troop of courtiers on his shoulders, to make power- ful friends of those who held offices and possessed the highest dignities in the kingdom. In this he succeeded so well that in spite of the opposition of the queen's former friends, she relinquished the intention she had had of dis- missing Cardinal Eichelieu's followers, and the hatred she had seemed to feel so strongly against them in the early days of her regency. She passed easily to the greatest gentleness towards them, and, by her authority, they almost all became her confidants and were well-treated. 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 81 This change, -which was ia the first place a counsel received and given from political maxims, readily became in the queen's soul a Christian principle, which her virtue and clemency made her value; and as she was capable of being deceived under a semblance of good, it is to be believed that Cardinal Mazarin, without being generous, advised her to act generously, intending to weaken the impulse of her heart towards hatred as well as towards friendship, so that, becoming indifferent to revenge, she might be more susceptible to the impressions he wanted to give her for his own interests. The queen, thinking his advice to be good and sincere, followed it without objection and even with some satisfaction, believing that she com- bined the good of the State with the pleasure of conquering herself in her resentment. The favour of the cardinal was therefore more and more established in the mind of the queen, and the Vendome party became truly alarmed by it. They made every effort to oppose it and to bring the queen back to her first feelings. But opposition has this quality, it excites the desire and the wlU. to resist and combat. The queen was determined to defend and maintain her minister by force of reason. She openly declared that she chose to make use of it, and said to all those who spoke to her, that his policy was sound in advising her not to enter upon any plans of vengeance, unworthy of a Christian and royal soul; and she freely showed to certain of her servitors that she should be very glad if they accommodated themselves to her inclination and will. Then, paying but little attention to the Bishop of Beauvais, she showed by all her actions that she had given her entire confidence to Cardinal Mazarin. He was capable of pleasing by his adroit mind, shrewd and clever at intrigue, and by a manner and behaviour full yOL. 1. — 6 82 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. of gentleness, far removed from the severity of the preced- ing reign and well-suited to the queen's natural kindness. It has been thought that he was not worthy of her esteem ; but it is true, nevertheless, that he had laiidable qualities which were fitted to repair the defects that were in him, although, increased by envy, those defects made him hated and de- spised by the people and by many honourable men. The queen had reason to esteem the beauty of his mind, his capacity, and the signs he gave her of his moderation. She readily believed that he was virtuous iu all things because he had no apparent vice or evil qualities that she could then perceive; and although she judged him rather too favourably, the infinite difference between him and the Bishop of Beauvais renders the queen praiseworthy for her discernment. The Court being in this state, favour was stiD. unsettled ; for, to the eyes of the public it did not seem as fixed as it really was, on account of the great stir which the princes of Venddme still made. But this disturbance no longer had much force except through the unbridled audacity of the Due de Beaufort, who, young and well-made, with many friends and a haughty demeanour, seemed to live in the fashion of favourites. Nor could it be imagined that the queen would so quickly abandon those whom, up to that time, she had liked and treated with so many marks of sincere friendship. Cardinal Mazarin had only just dawned into her good-will; she gave him, apparently, no more favourable treatment than she did the Due de Beaufort, who spent whole days beside her, entertaining her gayly and with the freedom that smiling fortune inspires in the favoured. But the need of being served, and the pains the minister took to show that he was sincere and full of kind- ness, made the entire conquest of her confidence at all 1643-1644] MEilOmS OF MADA5IE DE MOTTEVILLE. 83 moments easy to Mm. The duke, his competitor, mingled ■what he had of good and praiseworthy with many defects; his youth deprived him of experience, his natural intelli- gence was very limited, he talked boldly and talked ill ; it is not surprising, therefore, that so many bad points pro- duced much that was not advantageous to him. About this time an affair happened which disclosed the intrigues of the Com-t, and was the cause of Cardinal Mazai-in's finding himself, soon after, completely established in the power and eminence that he desired. It was by a special providence of God that the very things which mis- chief-makers tried to use to overturn the Court were actually what brought it into order, — at the cost, however, of a few worthy persons. "Women are usually the originating causes of the great convulsions of States, and wars which ruin kingdoms and empires proceed nearly always from the effects produced by their beautj" or theii- malice. The Duchesse de Montbazon, who, in our time, held the first rank for beauty and gallan- try, being the mother-in-law of the Duchesse de Che^^:euse, belonged with the latter to the Yendome cabal, not so much out of interest for her daughter-in-law, but because the Due de Beaufort was her lover. Consequently, both these ladies were opposed to the Pi-incesse de Cond^ who liked neither the one nor the other, and who favoured the cai'dinal because of her hatred to ChSteaimeuf, the Keeper of the Seals. Besides these contending interests, there was another very strong one between Madame de Longueville, daughter of the Princesse de Cond^, and the Duchesse de Montbazon. This j-oung and beautiful demoiselle de Bourbon had been forced by the prince her father to marrj- the Due de Longue- ville, who was the greatest seigneur, by reason of his vast 84 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. in. property, whom she could have married. He followed in precedence the priaces of the blood ; but he could not con- sider himself wholly worthy of her, because of his birth, and because of his age, and also because he was in love with Madame de Montbazon. These two ladies, therefore, with many reasons not to like each other, had strong inclinations to do each other harm ; and the perfect beauty of Madame de LonguevHle, her youth, and her natural grandeur led her often to look down upon her rival with contempt. It happened one day that, Madame de Montbazon being at home in her house with a great company, one of her young ladies found a letter in the room, and picking it up carried it to her mistress. The letter was in a woman's handwriting and was tenderly addressed to some man whom she did not hate. As such matters are usually the talk of all companies and preferred to all else, the subject of laughter thus afforded to Madame de Montbazon's company was not neglected. From gayety they passed to curiosity, from curiosity to suspicion, and from suspicion they ended by deciding that the letter had fallen from the pocket of Coligny, who had just left the room, and who, it was whispered, had a passion for Madame de LongueviLle. This princess had a great reputation for virtue and prudence, although she was sus- pected of not hating adoration and praise. Those of Madame de Montbazon's company who first said, after her, that this letter was from Madame de LonguevOle, did not really believe it. It was then only an amusing story which each told secretly to friends, merely to divert those who had not heard it. But it was not long ia reaching the ears of the Princesse de Condd, who, with her proud and vindictive nature, resented it keenly, and it is impossible to say to what lengths she might not have carried her wrath and indignation. Madame de Longueville, who did not feel 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 85 the matter less, but was more self-controlled, thought it advisable not to make a stir. The jealousy she felt of Madame de Montbazon, being proportioned to the love she had for her husband, did not carry her so far but what she thought it best to overlook the outrage ; for it was of such a nature that she desired to smother it rather than make it the occasion of a solemn vengeance. The Princess, her mother, was actuated by other great interests. She knew how to profit by her advantage in having entered the house of Bourbon ; and being unable to restrain herself she made this quarrel a State affair. She came to see the queen and complained loudly of Madame de Montbazon. The Court was divided. The women, who had respect for the princess and little esteem for her enemy, ranged themselves on her side; while nearly all the men went over to Madame de Montbazon ; as many as fourteen princes were said to have gone to see her. This glory, with the pleasure of avenging herself on Madame de Longueville, who had married the lover she hoped to make her husband as soon as her present one, who was very old, was dead, were matters that gave much joy to a malicious woman who desired no other reputation than that of making a brilKant appearance and of having many lovers. But all the abettors of her vanity were soon after com- pelled to desert her from the fear they had of the young Due d'Enghien, who, when he heard of the anger of the princess his mother, showed plaiuly that he meant to support the interests of his sister with much warmth. That fear made them all withdraw quickly, for he alone was worth the fourteen other princes put together. Among this num- ber must be excepted, in the matter of esteem, M. de Nemours who had just married Mademoiselle de Vendome, an amiable prince and one of great worth. 86 MEMOinS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. The queen, who had always liked the Prmcesse de Cond^, was much disposed to favour her; she was mother of the Due d'Enghien who had just won a battle and was already making himself feared ; it was necessary to conciliate her in every way lest the peace of the regency be troubled. These considerations carried the day against all the rest. The thing in itself was compelling, and the right on the side of these persons obliged her to protect the fame of Madame de Longueville, who, besides her birth, had noble qualities, whose reputation had never yet been attacked, and who was very amiable personally. She was at this time pregnant, and had gone to La Barre, a country-house near Paris, to escape the first annoyance of this affair and to rest. The queen went to see her to com- fort her and promise her protection. After the opening speeches of civility, the Princesse de Cond^ took the queen into an inner room where mother and daughter threw them- selves at her feet and asked justice for the outrage Madame de Montbazon had done to them. This they did with such feeling and tears that the queen, having done me the honour to tell me these particulars on her return from Barre, said to me that the princesses had made her pity them and she had promised they should be entirely justified. Which was done with all requisite ceremony, and in a manner that satisfied them. The Due de Beaufort, the great supporter of Madame de Montbazon, was beginning to fall from his first favour, which had dazzled every one. In spite of his love for Madame de Montbazon, the queen now favoured the Princesse de Cond^ and Madame de Longueville. He asked for the admiralship ; it was refused him because Cardinal Mazarin had previously induced the queen to give it to the Due de Brez^ nephew of Cardinal Eichelieu. The latter was already in possession 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 87 and deserved it, but the office would have been taken from him had it not been for the cardinal. This change in the queen's mind was very displeasing to the opposiag cabal, but it keenly affronted the Due de Beaufort personally. He was amazed to be refused a favour he had expected and which he openly said the queen had promised him. His resentment made him resolve to get rid of the minister, who was beginning to brave him on all occasions ; and the minister, seeing plainly how these people wished his downfall, determined to use the anger of the Princesse de Cond^ to drive them out and ruin them, if he could. That which proceeded from the malignity of Madame de Montbazon, seeking as much to gratify her private passion as to do harm to those who supported Cardinal Mazarin, served the cardinal usefully in getting rid of his enemies and in annihilating the cabals against him. As he had more intelligence than they, and that sort of cabinet intelligence which can work so many machines, it was easy for him to use these petty events to further his great designs. He was insinuating; he knew how to employ his kindness to his own advantage; he had the art of charming men and of making himself beloved by those to whom fate subjected him; just as he had that of making himself hated and de- spised by those who were dependent on him, because he had the essential defects of great baseness of soul, avarice, and insincerity. I have heard it said by a person who knew htm intimately in Eome (the Mar^chale d'Estrdes) that when his fortunes were only moderate he was the most agreeable man in the world ; which made me conclude that we ought not to feel surprised if he was able to please a great queen and two princes like Monsieur and the Prince de Cond^ (to whom he at first deferred in all things), while at the 88 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap, iii same time he made himself disliked by aU France with many signs of contempt and hatred. The queen, to pacify these little disturbances, which she regarded as trifles, ordered that the Duchesse de Montbazon should go to the Princesse de Cond^ and not only make excuses to her, but also public reparation for what had been said either by her or by those who were at her house. The speech she was to make for this pm-pose was written out in the little salon at the Louvre on the tablets of Cardinal Mazarin, who was apparently working to pacify the quarrel to the satisfaction of both parties. I was present on the evening that all these important trifles were discussed ; and I remember that I wondered in my soul at the follies and the silly preoccupations of that society. I saw the queen in the large cabinet and the Princesse de Condd, excited and terrible, with her, making a crime of Ifese majestd out of the affair. Madame de Chevreuse, involved for many reasons in the quarrel of her mother-in-law, was with the cardinal com- posing the speech that Madame de Montbazon was to make. Over every word parleys were held. The cardinal, playing the go-between, went from one side to the other to settle their differences, as if this peace were necessary to the wel- fare of France and to his own in particular. I never saw, as I think, such complete mummery ; for the thing in itself was nothing at all ; such things, and worse, happen every day not only to private persons, princes, and princesses, but to kings and queens. Crowned heads are, in every way, the most exposed to the injustice of evil tongues ; the most reasonable among them endeavour not only not to feel it, but not to punish it ; they know, and ought to know, that it is an irremediable eviL There is no place in the world where tongues are more licentious or minds more unchained in judging HI and speaking ill of sovereigns than our France. 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 89 Every one declaims freely against king and ministers, every one takes upon himself to censure them freely, and no one thinks it improper. But fate chose that in this particular affair the license thus practised should have results of the greatest consequence. It vras finally settled that the criminal duchess should go the next morning to the princess ; where she was to say that the talk made about the letter was false, and the invention of malignant minds ; ^ and that, for her part, she had never thought it, knowing too well the virtue of Madame de Longueville and the respect which she owed to her. This speech was written out in a little note attached to her fan in order that she might say it word for word to the princess. She did this in the haughtiest and proudest maimer possible ; making a grimace which seemed to say, "I scoff at all I say." The Princesse de Cond^ after this satisfaction, entreated the queen to permit that she might never be in the same place with the Duchesse de Montbazon, which the queen granted readily. She was glad to do her that kindness, thinking the matter of no great consequence, though difficult to execute. It happened, some days later, that Madame de Chevreuse gave a collation to the queen in Eegnard's garden at the end of the Tuileries. The queen, wishing to take the Princesse de Cond^ with her, assured her that Madame de Montbazon would not be present because she knew she had taken medi- cine that morning. On this assurance the princess risked accompanying her. But when the queen entered the garden she was told that Madame de Montbazon was already there, 1 I ought to say here that it was known for a certainty that this letter found in Madame de Montbazon's salon was written to Maulerrier by a lady [Madame de TonqueroUes, author of Memoirs of no value], who was very unworthy of being compared to Madame de Longueville. (Author's note.) 90 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. assuming to do the honours of the collation as mother-in-law of the lady who gave it. The queen was much surprised; she had promised security to the princess and was greatly embarrassed at the luckless encovmter. The Princesse de Cond(5 made a motion to retire in order not to trouble the f gte ; but the queen retained her, saying that she herself must remedy the matter inasmuch as it was on her word that the princess came. To do this with- out an uproar, she sent to beg Madame de Montbazon to pretend to be taken ill and to withdraw, in order to relieve her from the embarrassment in which she found herself. But that lady, knowing the cause of her little banishment, would not consent to flee before her enemy, and was stupid enough to refuse this compliance to one to whom she owed much more. The queen was offended at such resistance ; she would not allow the Princesse de Cond6 to go away alone, but she herself, declining the collation and the promenade, re- turned to the Louvre, much irritated at the little respect Madame de Montbazon had shown to her. As kings are usually far above those who offend them, they can easily avenge themselves. The next day the queen sent a com- mand to Madame de Montbazon to absent herself from Court, and to go to one of her country-houses. This she did at once, to the great regret of her friends, and even to that of the Due d'Orleans, who, having loved her in former days, still remembered that fact. He could offer no remedy, however, for the queen was angry. She had reason to be so, and her minister thought it expedient, even more for his own interests than because of the affront offered to her. This dismissal was immediately followed by that of the Due de Beaufort and of the whole troop of " the Importants." The intimacy he had with the exiled duchess, the anger he 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 91 showed ill finding that the cardinal had taken his favour from him, the hatred that the Prince de Condd, the princess, and Madame de Longueville felt against the whole cabal, but above all, the necessity which the cardinal felt to ruin him, led finally to his disgrace, caused the disaster of his life, and strangled the great hopes he had conceived, with some rea- son, of his future fortunes. He was unlucky enough to be unable to accommodate himself to the inclinations of the queen, who had always shown much friendship and con- fidence in him. In fact it was that which spoilt him ; wish- ing to possess that favour for himself alone, he could not endure to share it with another, to fail towards those he de- sired to place in the first rank, or to submit himself to the authority of a foreigner who was no friend to him. Conse- quently, being allied to those now out of favour, he was dragged down by them ; and, by his fate and that of others, he fell, and found himself reduced to a most deplorable condition. He was suddenly accused of intending to assassinate Cardinal Mazarin, and the queen became convinced that he had twice thought of doing so. What I know of my own knowledge is that certain friends of the Due de Beaufort did not altogether deny it to me; and it is true that on the morrow of that day the rumour was strong at Court that an intention existed to murder Cardinal Mazarin. On this rumour, a great many persons came to the Louvre ; and the queen seemed to me very Hi-pleased with the Due de Beau- fort and the whole cabal of " the Importants." She said to me, when I went up to her and asked the cause of the tumult, — " You will see before twice twenty-four hours go by how I avenge myself for the ill-turns these evil friends have done me." 92 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap, m, As I was then without interests and without passion, and was by nature rather discreet, I kept in my own heart, very secretly, what the queen had done me the honour to tell me, and waited, very attentive to observe and see the result of the two days of which the queen had notified me. Never will the memory of those few words be effaced from my mind. I saw at that moment by the fire that blazed in the eyes of the queen, and by the things that actually happened on the morrow and even the same night, what a royal per- sonage is when angry and able to do whatever she wills. That same evening the Duo de Beaufort, as he returned from hunting, met, on entering the Louvre, Madame de Guise, and Madame de VendOme, his mother, with Madame de Nemours, his sister, who had been with the queen all day. They had heard the rumour of assassination and had seen the emotion on the face of the queen. For this reason they did all they could to prevent the duke from going up to her, telling him that his friends were of opinion that he ought to absent himself for a few days and see what would happen. But he, not disturbed, continued his way, and replied to them, what the Due de Guise had said before he was killed, "They will not dare." He was bold, and still intoxicated with the belief of his favour. He had seen the queen in the morning, or on the evening of the preced- ing day, when she spoke to him with her usual sweetness and familiarity, so that he never imagined that his fate could change so readily. He therefore entered the queen's pres- ence in this perfect security. He found her in the great cabinet of the Louvre, where she received him amiably, and asked him a few questions about the hunt, as if she had no other thought in her mind. She had learned to dissimulate from the late king, her hus- band, who had practised that ugly virtue with more per- 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 93 fection than any other prince in the world. But finally, after fulfilling with fine acting all that policy required of her, and the cardinal having entered during this suave con- versation, the queen rose, told the cardinal to follow her, and went, as if to hold the little council, into her own room. The Due de Beaufort then, intending to leave by the little cabinet, found there Guitaut, captain of the queen's guards, who arrested him and commanded him in the name of the king and queen to follow him. The prince, without seeming astonished, looked at him fixedly, and said, " Yes, I am wniing; but it is, I acknowledge, rather strange." Then turning to Madame de Chevreuse and Madame de Hautefort, who were in the room and conversing together, he said to them, " Mesdames, you see that the queen has ordered my arrest." No doubt they were much surprised by the affair and pained by it, for they were friends of his; as for him, I think that vexation and anger filled his soul completely. He never imagined that after the service he had rendered the queen in her misfortunes she could ever resolve on treating him so ill. He was not a man disillusioned of the things of this world, nor one who could make the solid judg- ment that a reasoning mind would have made; he was a man of intelligence in many things, but strongly attached to the false glory that goes with favour ; consequently, he was ill-pleased to find himself deceived and his finest hopes be- trayed ; but as he was a man of courage, he put a good face on his misfortune. The next day, very early, the prisoner was taken to the forest of Vincennes. They gave him one of the king's valets to serve him, and a cook. His friends complained that his own servants were not given to him, but the queen, to whom I spoke of it at their request, assured me it was not 94 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. the custom. Commands were sent to M. and Madame de VendSme, and M. de Mercceur, elder brother of the Due de Beaufort, and other of « the Importants " to leave Paris in- stantly, on which they retired to their country-places. M. de Vendome at first excused himself on the ground of being ill ; but to hasten his departure and make it more comfort- able, the queen sent him her own litter. The downfall of the Due de Beaufort was followed by that of the Bishop of Beauvais, who could not hold out against a competitor as powerful as Cardinal Mazarin. The hat which had been asked for him was countermanded. He seemed to quit the Court without regret, and went to find in his diocese of Beauvais a better master than the best and greatest kings of this world can ever be ; and there he lived a saintly life for the rest of his days. This was a mat- ter of which one cannot speak without blaming the queen, because she might have made the bishop a cardinal without keeping him as minister. He was a worthy man, very pious and very peaceable; so that he could have lived at her Court beside her, without suspicion that his intrigues would ever trouble the State. He deserved much from her (she even owed him a great deal of money), and was very faith- ful to her. The money, no doubt, was paid, but his fidelity, which was worth more than the wealth of the Indies, was very lU rewarded. Madame de Chevreuse, disgusted at seeing all her friends exiled and ill-treated and her own influence lessening day by day, complained to the queen of the little consideration she showed to her old servants. The queen requested her not to interfere, but to leave her to govern the State and choose what minister she pleased and manage her affairs in her own way. She advised her, as she did me the honour to tell me, to live pleasantly in France, not to mix herself in 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 95 any intrigue, but to enjoy under her regency the peace she had never had in the days of the late king. She represented to her that it was time to find pleasure in retreat and to regulate her life on thoughts of the other world. She told her that she promised her her friendship on that condition ; but, that if she chose to trouble the Court and meddle in matters in which she forbade her to take part, it would force her, the queen, to send her away, and that she could promise her no other favour than that of being the last person dismissed. Madame de Chevreuse did not take these remonstrances and counsels in the spirit that is practised in convents ; she did not believe that charity and a care for her salvation were their principal motive. It is not in a Court that such merchandise is sold in good faith ; nor is it there received with humility. Thoughts of retreat from the world do not enter hearts from human motives ; on the contrary, nothing makes minds so rebellious as preachments against their grain. This one had precisely that effect ; and as the queen received no satisfaction from her answer or her conduct, the displeasure increased on her side, and Madame de Che- vreuse, aware that the good-will of the queen was lessening towards her every day, was not surprised when at last she received an order to go to Tours or to one of her country- houses. She left the Court and was several days in her own house ; but, imable to stay quietly in retreat, she started in disguise, with Mademoiselle de Chevreuse, her daughter, intending to go to England, but was taken ill and remained in the island of Guernsey, where she suffered much misery. From there she went to Flanders, where the poor Due de Lorrame, ban- ished as he was, received her most kindly for the second time, and assisted her much. Cardinal Mazarin said, to 96 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. in. excuse himself for her dismissal, that she had too much love for Spain, and wanted so urgently to have peace made for the advantage of Spaniards that he could never acquire her friendship. I have heard it said, by those who knew her intimately that no one ever understood so well the interests of all princes, or talked of them better, or had more capacity to disentangle great affairs; but it never seemed to me from her conduct that her ideas were as great as her reputation. As she had intelligence and experience among foreigners it is to be believed, without saying too much in her favour, that she may have been capable of giving advice as to the peace ; but we may also say of her with justice that those who examined what seemed good in her found many defects. She was vague in speech, and much occupied by chimeras which her inclination for intrigue suggested to her. It is also to be presumed that her judgments were not always regulated by reason, but that her passions contributed to form them. The queen and her minister had some cause therefore to fear her. I heard her say of herself (one day when I was praising her for having played a part in all the great affairs which had happened in Europe) that ambition had never touched her heart, and that jjleasure alone had led her ; that is to say, she had been interested in the affairs of the world solely in relation to those she loved. In the person of Madame de Hautefort we shall now [1644] see the fate of the whole group of "the Importants" accomplished. The queen had quitted the Louvre, where her apartment did not please her, and had taken up her abode in the Palais-Eoyal, which Cardinal Eichelieu when dying had bequeathed to the late king. In the begmning of her residence there she was very ill with a dreadful jaun- dice, considered by the doctors to come solely from vexa- 1643-1644J MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 97 tions and sadness. The vexations she received from the many complaints made against her government troubled her; the management of public affairs brought her much embarrassment; and the pain she felt iu being forced to cause imhappiness made so great an impression on her miad that her body, sharing these sufferings, felt them too much. Her sadness being dissipated after a while, and her illness also, she determined to think of nothing but enjoying the rest she gave herself by laying upon her minister the cares and the business of the State, believing that henceforth she would be as happy as she was powerful. Madame de Hautefort, who had never been able to con- quer the hatred she felt for Cardinal Mazarin, was the only person who now troubled the calm of the queen's soul, not only because she could not endure the minister, but because her self-sufficient mind, turning to piety, began to take up sentiments that made her stern, rather annoying, and too critical. All that the queen did displeased her ; and as she stUl retained something of her old familiarity with her, she was constantly saying rough things and showing plainly that she did not approve of her conduct in any way. The queen could not endure this behaviour, and the cardinal, who desired the dismissal of the lady, did not fail to embitter the queen's mind against her. So that her lectures on gener- osity were considered to be tacit reproaches ; and such con- duct, lacking all prudence, caused her finally to lose the good graces of one who, up to that time, had treated her as a dear friend. One day in the year 1644, having, as usual, had the honour of passing the evening with the queen up to mid- night, we left Madame de Hautefort talking with the princess in perfect freedom and with the pleasure that her presence and the favour she did us in allowing us to be VOL. I. — 7 98 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. hi. with her always gave us. The queen was just about to go to bed and had only her last prayer to say when we left her and retired, Mademoiselle de Beaumont, the Commander de Jars, my sister, and myself. At this moment Madame de Hautefort, always thinking of doiug good, supported (while they were removing the queen's shoes and stockings) the application of one of her women who spoke in favour of an old gentleman, long her servant, who needed some favour. Madame de Hautefort, not finding the queen very willing to help him, said, making her meaning plain by disdainful smiles, that she ought not to forget her old servants. The queen, who was waiting for an occasion to dismiss her, contrary to her usual gentleness took fire at this, and said, much displeased and very angry, that she was tired of her reprimands and very much dissatisfied with the manner in which she behaved to her. As she said those important words she threw herself into her bed and ordered her to close the curtains and say no more to her. Madame de Hautefort, astounded at this thimderbolt, fell upon her knees and, clasping her hands, called God to witness her innocence and the sincerity of her intentions, protesting to the queen that she believed she had never failed in serving her, or in her duty to her. She went to her room after that, deeply moved by the iucident, and I may say much afflicted. The next day the queen sent her word to leave the palace and take with her her sister, Made- moiselle d'Escars, who had always been in service with the queen. I was never more astonished than when I heard in the morning, at my waking, this history of what had happened in the short time after we had left Madame de Hautefort with the queen, which had brought such results upon her. 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 99 It may be said in her defence that her good intentions made her excusable; but the best things are on a level with the worst when they are not wisely done, and virtue taken askew has often caused as much evil as its contrary. As I respected hers, though I saw its imprudence, I went to see her in her chamber. She seemed to me fairly strong under her misfortune — if misfortune it is to leave a Court. After a conversation of an hour, during which she justified herself to me as best she could, I went to find the queen, to whom I related the visit I had just paid, excusing the lady with as much judgment as possible. The queen, with feeling, did me the honour to say that I was wrOng not to enter into her just reasons for com- plaint ; that I hardly knew Madame de Hautefort and already my kindness made me excuse her, though I ought to see very plainly that she was to blame. Besides these reproaches to me, she said to Beringhen, shortly after, that she was sorry to see me so quickly engage in friendship with Madame de Hautefort, having but lately returned to Court, and that I ought to have no better friend than herself. This complaint was very kind, coming from a great queen who certainly, if I may dare to say so, was my best friend and the one I loved most truly. But as the heart cannot be seen, the queen was for some time rather cold to me, and that did me some harm with the minister, who believed I was against his interests because I seemed to take the part of a dismissed person who was so opposed to him. Nevertheless, I had entered no cabal, my intentions were upright; pity alone had made me act. I did not refrain from returning that evening to Madame de Hautefort, who, from having wished to seem strong, had so restrained her grief and weakness within her heart 100 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. in. that she nearly died of them. Her illness was so violent that she could not leave her room, in spite of the commands she had received. We f oimd her — Commander de Jars, Mile, de Beaumont, my sister, and myself — in a pitiable state. Her heart, which had not sighed all day, renouncing at last the pride with which she strove to fill it, was now so choked, so wrung, so abandoned to her resentment that I can truly say I never saw anything like it. She sobbed in such a manner that it was easy to see she had much loved the queen, that her dismissal was hard to bear, and that she had not foreseen it. We consoled her as best we could; and heartily wished that the queen was capable of softening, and forgiving her. But the next day, being rather better, and relieved by two bleedings which they had to give her during the night, she left the Palais-Eoyal to the regret of every one. For, as disgrace without wrong-doiag has this property, that it kUls envy in the souls of enemies and moves them readily from hatred to pity, so it increases friendship ia friends who are sufficiently honourable persons to love generosity and to excuse faults that result from a virtue so remarkable. This illustrious imfortunate shut herself up at first ia a convent, where she remained some time. Then she left it and lived in great retirement, seeiag only her nearest friends. Some years later she married very highly and became a duchess and mardchale of France, having wedded M. de Schomberg, a man sufficiently honourable to prefer merit to favour. I dared no longer go to see her, because when I spoke of her to the queen and asked, as a favour, that she would not think it ill if I went, she answered coldly that I was free, and could do as I wished. I told her, kissing her hand, that I should never wish to do anything that dis- pleased her ; and owing all to her and nothing to Madame 1643-1644] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 101 de Hautefort but civility and esteem, I pledged myself not to see her again. The Commander de Jars, who was much more her friend than I was, and never failed in heart to his friends, did as I did, and saw her no more until after her marriage. IV. 1 644 — 1 645- At the beginniag of the regency the queen had established a council of conscience, at which were decided all matters concerning benefices, the choice of bishops and abb^s, and the distribution of pensions that she wished to give to the glory of God and the advantage of religion. This council existed as long as the minister, seeing his authority thwarted, remained under some restraint; but as soon as he had ac- quired complete dominion over the queen's mind, the council of conscience went off in smoke; he wished to dispose as he pleased, without any contradiction, of the benefices as of everything else, in order that those to whom the queen gave them should be friends of his, without caring much whether they were true servants of Grod, saying that he supposed all priests were that. This council consequently served only to exclude those he did not wish to favour; and a few years later it was abolished altogether because P^re Vincent [Saint- Vincent de Paul] who was at its head, being a man of single mind, very devout and pious, who had never dreamed of winning the good graces of the Court people, whose manners and ways he knew not, was easily made, in spite of the queen's esteem for him, the ridicule of the Court; for it is almost impossible that humility, penitence, and gospel simpEcity should accord with the ambition, vanity, and self-interest that reign there. She who had placed him in that position would gladly have maintained him. This is why she still 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 103 had several long conversations with him on the scruples which continued in her mind; but she lacked firmness on this occasion, and finally let things go as it pleased her minister, not thinking herself as able as he, or as much so as she really was in many matters ; which made it easy for him to persuade her to do what he chose, and to bring her round, after some resistance, to things he had resolved upon. I know nevertheless that, in the choice of bishops espe- cially, she had great pain in yielding, and much more when she recognized that she had followed his advice too easily in these important matters, which she did not always do, and never without privately consulting Pfere Vincent, as long as he lived, or others whom she thought men of worth. But she was sometimes cruelly deceived by the false virtue of those who sought the prelacy, for whom the pious persons on whom she relied to examine them answered perhaps too lightly. However, in spite of the indifference her min- ister seemed to show on this subject, God so favoured this princess that the greater number of those who were raised to that dignity during her regency did their duty and ful- filled their functions with exemplary sanctity. The queen had appointed to the finances the president de BaiLlevd, a good man and a judge of great integrity, but too tame and gentle for that office, where justice is not the chief necessary quality. It was important for Cardinal Mazarin to change him for some one less precise but much harsher than he. He did not wish to turn him out at once, but he put d'Emery under him as controller-general with power attached to that office, so that little by little he could install as superintendent of finances a man who was his own creature and over whom he had absolute control, — which happened not long after. 104 MEMOIRS or MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. At the same time the queen, who desired to remove Chavigny from the council, where the cardinal was not over pleased to have him exercise the oifice of secretary of state for foreign affairs (for which he was very capable and through which, having the management of the great matters that came before it, he became necessarily a part of the miuistry), ordered him to resign and sell his office to the Comte de Brienne, who would then sell the one he held in the king's household to Duplessis-Gu&^gaud. As the queen respected de Brienne not only for his integrity but also on account of her friendship for his wife, she gave him two hundred thou- sand francs towards paying for the office, which was sold to him for five hundred thousand. The cardinal having no longer any one in the council to cause him jealousy, the Comte de Brienne making no diffi- culty in signing all the despatches they sent to him, nothing remained but the office of secretary of state for war, then held by des Noyers who had been dismissed by the late king. This the minister made him give in commission to Le Tellier,! whom he had known in Italy, and who soon had the full title by the death of des Noyers. He has since never lacked offices, having been very important through- out our period, much liked by the queen, and well regarded by the minister ; and we shall see him play his part in very extraordinary matters. In this way the cardinal had the- gratification of filling for himself the offices of the four secretaries of state, the titular secretaries being merely his clerks. After relating thus the state of the Court I think it is right to say something personal of the queen. She waked usually between ten and eleven o'clock, on days of devotion at nine, and she always made a long prayer before calling 1 Michel Le Tellier, father of the Marquis de Louvois. 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 105 those who slept near her. As soon as her wating was annomiced her principal officers came to pay theii- court to her, and often other persons entered, especially certain ladies who came to tell her of alms and charities to be done in Paris, in all France, and even in foreign parts. Her lib- eralities at all times were great, extended usually to what- ever concerned piety, and her attention to all claims on her protection and justice never relaxed. Men were not excluded from her audiences. During these early hours she gave them to several, entering into the business they brought before her according as she deemed it necessary. The king never missed, nor did Mon- sieur, coming to see her in the morning; not leaving her again till they went to bed, except for their meals and their games, — their youth not permitting them to eat with her, as they did later. After half an hour's conversation, and those who desired to speak with her having had their audience, she rose, put on a dressing-gown, and, after making a second prayer, ate her breakfast with great appetite. Her breakfast was always good, for her health was admirable. After her bouillon she was served with cutlets, sausages, and boiled bread. Usually she ate a little of all, and dined on no less. Then she took her chemise, which the king gave her, kissing her tenderly ; and this custom lasted a long time. After putting on her petticoat, she took a wrapper and a black hongreline, and in that state she heard mass very devoutly ; and that sacred action ended, she returned to her toilet. At this there was unparalleled pleasure in seeing her do her hair and dress herself. She was skilful, and her beauti- ful hands thus employed were the admiration of those who saw them. She had the handsomest hair in the world, of a light chestnut, very long and in great quantity, which she 106 MEMOIRS or MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. preserved for a long time, years having no power to destroy its beauty. She dressed with care and the choiceness per- missible to those who desire to look well without luxury, without gold or silver or paint or any extravagant fashion. It was nevertheless easy to see, in spite of the modesty of her clothes, that she could be influenced by a little vanity. After the death of the late king she ceased to wear rouge, which increased the whiteness and nicety of her skin. Instead of diminishing her beauty, this made it the more esteemed, and public approbation soon obliged all ladies to follow her example. She took at this time a habit of keep- ing her room now and then for a day or two to rest, and see only such persons as were most familiar with her and least likely to importune her. On other days she readily gave audience to all who asked for it, whether on general busi- ness or on private matters. As she had good sense and good judgment she satisfied all by her answers, given with kind- ness ; and those who loved her could have wished that she had always acted by her own ideas — as she at first intended, to avoid the blame she saw given to the late king for aban- doning his authority to Cardinal Eichelieu, often saying at that time to her servants that she should never do likewise. But, unhappily for those who were about her, her resolutions were weakened by a desire for repose, and by the trouble she found in the multiplicity of business affairs inseparable from the government of a great kingdom. In course of time, as she became more lazy, she learned by experience that God has not placed kings on thrones to do nothing, but to en- dure some at least of the miseries which are attached to all sorts and conditions of life. The queen did not often dine in public served by her officers, but nearly always in her little cabinet served by her women. The king and Monsieur kept her company 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 107 and were seldom absent. After her dinner she retired to her own room to be a short time alone; often giving an hour to God in devout reading, which she did in her oratory. After which she held her "circle," or else she went out, either to see nims or pay her devotions ; and on returning she gave some time to the princesses and ladies of quality who came to pay their court to her. After the Due d'Orl^ans returned to Court he came daily to see her. The Prince de Cond^ and the Due d'Enghien also came occasionally. But as, at the begumiag of the regency, they were not yet in the little secret council, as they were later, they retired early. The Due d'Orl^ans stayed late, and Cardinal Mazarin never missed this fine evening hour, during which the conversation went on publicly between the queen, the princes, and the minister. At this period, therefore, the Court was a very large one. After this the queen retired to her private rooms. The Due d'Orl^ans then had a private interview and returned to the Luxembourg, leaving Cardinal Mazarin alone with the queen. The minister stayed sometimes an hour, sometimes more. The doors of the rooms remained open after the departure of the Due d'Orl^ans, and the Court people, as- sembled in the little chamber of the Palais-Eoyal adjoining the cabinet, remained there talking until the " little council " was over. When it ended the queen, shortly after, bade good-night to all who composed what is called the great world. The crowd of great seigneurs and courtiers remained in the grand cabinet, and it was there that took place, no doubt, all that gallantry and passionate intrigues can pro- duce. A few men, with four or five persons of our sex, had the honour of remaining with the queen at all hours when she was in private. When she had bid good-night, and Cardinal Mazarin had 108 MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. left her, she entered her oratory and remained a full hour in prayer; after which she came out to supper at eleven o'clock. Her supper finished, we ate the rest of it, without order or ceremony, using, for all convenience, her napkin and the remains of her bread; and although this meal was ill- arranged, it was not disagreeable, through the quality of the persons present, and because of the jests and the conversa- tion of the queen, who told us good things and laughed much because the women who served her, and who were not the most polite in the world, tried to rob us of all they could to keep it for the morrow. After this feast we fol- lowed her into her cabinet, where a gay and lively conver- sation continued till midnight or one o'clock; and then, after she was undressed, and often when she was in bed and ready to go to sleep, we left her to do likewise. We followed this life punctually for several years, even during the little journeys to Fontainebleau and Saint- Germain, unto, the civil war and the siege of Paris, when the troubles became so great as to interrupt its system — I mean as regards our attendance, but not as regards the queen, for she was the most regular person in the world in all her habits of life. She held a council Mondays and Thursdays, and on those days she was beset by crowds of people. She fasted on all appointed days and, in spite of her appetite, all through Lent. When in Paris, she went every Saturday to mass at Notre-Dame, and usually spent the remainder of that day in resting ; taking the greatest pleasure in getting away from the crowd that surrounded her, but which, towards the last, grew accustomed not to importune her as much then as on other days. She took the communion regularly on Sundays and feast-days. On the evening before the great feasts she went to sleep at the Val-de-GrSce, where she resolved to bmld a new monastery. 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 109 finer than the one already there, and to add to it a church worthy of a queen, mother of a great king. She gave this in charge of Tuboeuf. There she frequently remaiaed several days, retired from the world, taking pleasure in conversations with the nuns. She sought the most saiatly, accommodating herself to those who had but medium merit ; but whenever they reached her esteem she honoured them with friendship. Good sermons from the sternest preachers were those that pleased her most. She went sometimes, but rarely, to visit the prisons disguised as a servant, and, to my knowledge, she one day followed the Priucesse de Cond^ for that purpose. She had a waiting-maid, a pious and devout woman, who in the first years of her regency was shut up with her every evening in her oratory. The whole duty of that person was to inform the queen of the daily needs, public and private, of the poor, and to receive from her the money to relieve them. She was always touched by things she thought her duty. I have seen her during the war which happened later, when she had no money, sell her diamond ear-rings (which she had had very curiously made) to give money to those who were suffering by it. The queen had not yet renounced all the pleasures she had formerly liked and which she thought innocent. Her amusements were all moderate ; she loved nothing ardently. She once liked balls, but had lost the liking with her youth, and her long residence at Saint-Grermain had accustomed her to do without such things. But she went to the theatre half-hidden behind one of us, whom she made to sit forward in the box, not wLLling, during her mourning, to appear publicly in the place she would have occupied in other days. This amusement was not disagreeable to her. Cornenie, the illustrious poet of our epoch, had enriched the stage with noble plays, the moral of which could serve as a lesson 110 MEMOIRS or MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. it. to correct the unruliness of human passions, and among the vain and dangerous occupations of the Court this at least was not among the worst. The queen was grave and discreet in all her ways of act- ing and speaking; she was judicious and very secret as to the confidences her familiar servants ventured to make to her. She was liberal by her own impulse; and what she gave she gave with a good grace ; but she often failed to give for want of reflection, and it was necessary to employ too much help to obtain her benefits. This defect, which was not in her heart nor in her will, came from her per- mitting insensibly her resolutions to be formed by the will of others whose advice she respected, and her attendants suffered in consequence. She gave in profusion to certain persons who had the power to persuade her in their favour ; persons who by constant application to their own fortune found means to make it. She did not like to read, and knew very little ; but she had intelligence, and an easy, accommodating, and agree- able mind. Her conversation was serious and free both; those she esteemed found great charms in her because she was secret, and always glad to enter into the feelings and interests of those who opened their hearts to her ; and this good treatment made a great impression on the souls of those who loved her. I have spoken elsewhere of her beauty ; I shall only say here that, being agreeable in per- son, gentle and polite in her actions, and familiar with those who had the honour to approach her, she had only to follow her natmral inclinations and show herself as she really was, to please every one. But, in spite of her virtuous inclinations, it was easy for the cardiual, making use of " reasons of State," to change her feelings and make her capable of doing harsh things to those she was- accustomed 1644-1645] MEMOmS OF MADAJIE DE MOTTEVILLE. Ill to treat -well. In the beginning of her regency she was much praised for her kindness, and great hopes were founded on its effects. But when she was seen to dismiss those she had formerly reUed on she was loudly condemned. Many publications were issued to decry a goodness which the people had believed in, and with reason. But this belief was held for some time in the rank of things doubtful by those who were now not prosperous enough to be content. At the end of the year from the king's death [May, 1644], she quitted her deep mom-ning, which had made her seem beautiful, and the age of forty, so dreadful to our sex, did not prevent her from beiag still agreeable. She had a fresh- ness and plumpness which placed her ta the ranks of the handsomest women of her kingdom, and we saw her, as time went on, increase in years without losing these advantages. At the beginning of this year [1644] preparations were made for war. The Due d'Orl^ans went to command the army of Flanders, and the Due d'Enghien [the great Cond4], that of Germany. We shall see the first conquer several fortresses, and the second defeat the enemy with glory and renown. President Barillon and several others of the principal parliament leaders were not satisfied because they were less considered than they hoped to be. On the first occasion that oflfered for a mutiny they took it ; they began by com- plaining that the chancellor quashed in the council aU the decrees of the parliament, and they loudly complained of their president, who seemed to consent with too much com- pliance. They assembled and made speeches against the royal authority, censured aU things, and made the Court apprehensive of coming disorders and quarrels. The day after this assembly [May 22, 1644], a command was sent to President Barillon, Pi-esident Gayant, and others 112 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. of the cabal to retire. President Barillon was a worthy man and much respected ; he had served the queen in the parlia- ment, where he had much influence and reputation. The " Importants " were his friends ; he and they had been ser- vitors of the queen, and were so no longer. He was sent to Pignerol, to the great displeasure of many worthy persons, and he died there a year later regretted by every one. I have heard the queen say that duriag the life of the late king she had had no servant more faithful than this presi- dent, but that as soon as she was regent he abandoned her and disapproved of all her actions. Sometime after this dismissal, others of the parliament, rebelling at the rigour they declared had been shown to their company, held several assemblies. They determined to see the queen and complain of the wrong she had done them, and they resolved to go to her without asking for an audience. At this time, though Monsieur had not yet started for the army, he was at one of his country-houses, and Cardinal Mazarin had gone to make a little journey and meet Cardinal de Valengay, who was coming from Eome but was forbidden to enter Paris. The queen was in bed, alone in the Palais-Eoyal ; I had the honour of being with her. They came to tell her that the parliament was coming in a body, on foot, to make re- monstrances about the affair of President Barillon. It was easy to see that the object of this assembly was to stir up the people ; and the persons who first gave notice of their coming seemed to me frightened. The queen, who had a firm soul and was not easily startled, showed no uneasiness. She sent for President de BaUleul, superintendent of finances, rather liked in his corps ; and, not willing to close the doors as some advised, she ordered the parliament to be received under the arcade which separated the two arches. 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 113 Tliere she sent them word by the captain of her guards and the superintendent that she did not think it right they should come to her without her permission and without asking for an audience ; that they must now return whence they started, for, having taken medicine, she could not see them. To their shame they had to do as she commanded; and the queen laughed at me because these old dotards had frightened me so much that I advised her to send for the Mar^chal de Gramont, major of her regiment of guards, so as to have some defenders if the populace should take part in the affair. A few days later an audience was granted on their demand; and their harangues, which demanded the release of President Barillon, were not listened to as re- garded him, but other points of no great weight were granted. After this first commotion, the parliament re- mained for some time rather peaceable, ruminating their designs to infringe on the royal authority, which appeared a few years later. When summer weather invited the princes to leave the pleasures of the Court for the toils of wars, the queen thought it time to seek cool airs out of Paris. She wished to pass the great heat at Kuel with the Duchesse d'Aiguillon. That house is very convenient through its vicinity to Paris, and very agreeable from the beauty of its gardens and the number of its streams, which are very natural. The queen took pleasure in the place, where her enemy Cardinal Eiche- lieu had so long received the adoration of aU France. It was not from that motive, however, that she chose it; she had too noble a soul to wish to trouble the repose of the dead by so petty a triumph. It was, on the contrary, to oblige his niece, the Duchesse dAiguillon, and give her marks of royal protection against the Prince de Condd, with 114 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. rv. whom she had great differences to settle. It is to be sup- posed, however, that the queen, acting from generosity, had a certain joy in finding herself able to do good by her mere presence to those whom she believed had done her much evil. She took great pleasure in her evening walks during the time she was in this delightful place, and in all the innocent pleasures that its beauty and convenience afforded. But it pleased the people of Paris to rise against certain taxes which were about to be placed on houses, so that the king and herself departed at the end of six weeks in great haste to pacify them, and the whole Court followed them very willingly to Paris. One day during the queen's stay at Euel, as she was driv- ing in a caliche through the gardens she noticed Voiture, walking along in a revery. That man had wit, and by the charm of his conversation he was the amusement of the ruelles of those ladies who make it their boast to receive the best company. The queen, to please the Princesse de Cond^ who was seated beside her, asked him what he was thinking of. Voiture, without much reflection, made some burlesque verses in answer to the queen, which were amus- ing and bold. She was not offended by the jest ; in fact, she thought the verses pretty, and kept them for a long time in her room. She did me the honour to give them to me after- wards, and, from the things I have already told about her life, it is easy to understand them. They were as follows : — " I 'm thinking how that destiny After so many unjust ills, Has justly come to crown you With splendour, honours, glory, But that you were plus heureuse As you were in other days, When — I '11 not say amoureuse Though my rhyme demands it. 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 115 " I 'm thinking, too, tow tiiis poor Love, Who always lent you arms, Is hanished from your Court With arrows, bow, and charms ; And what then will it profit me To spend my life beside you, If you can choose to treat so ill Those who have so well served you. " I 'm thinking (for we poets Do think extravagantly) Of what, in your present mood, You would do if here before you, In this place and at this moment, Came the Duke of Buckingham ; Which would be the worst dismissed, The duke or Father Vincent." I must end this trip to Euel with this trifle, and return to Paris to resume the gravity and seriousness required for that great city. One of our kings [Henri III.] has said that the head of this kingdom was always too big ; that it was full of humours iajurious to the rest of its members, and that a bleeding now and then was necessary. This time, however, the presence of the king and queen pacified everything; it was only a little blaze of straw, which did not in any way prevent the Court from enjoying in peace the comforts and pleasures that are ever to be found in that agreeable region. Pope UrbaiQ VIII. died in July, 1644. He had held the Holy See for many years with the reputation of an able man and a great politician. The Cardinals Barberini, his nephews, who were protectors of Prance, were left masters of the election of his successor. Several partisans of Spain who sought to be raised to that dignity were opposed, par- ticularly the Cardinal Pamphilo, who seemed to have more claim to it than any other; but finally, the king did not 116 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. prevail; the Barberinis served France very ill on tliis occasion. In this same month, the Queen of England, whom her rebellious people had driven into a little corner of her king- dom to give birth to her last child, was forced, only seven- teen days later, to escape to France to avoid what she had to fear from the hatred of her subjects, who were at open war with their king, and wished to take her prisoner, perhaps to begin on her the lack of respect they owed to royalty. This princess, after being the most fortunate and most opulent of all the queens of Emope, with three crowns upon her head, was reduced to such a state that in order to lie-in it was necessary that our queen should send her Madame Peronne, her own midwife, and even the slightest articles that were necessary to her condition. She had been taken to Ozford by the king her husband, who left her there; but having reason to fear that his enemies would besiege her, she started hastily for Exeter, where she gave birth to her child in the poverty I have just represented. She was ill with a serious malady which pre- ceded her pregnancy, and in no state to help her husband. In this extremity she was forced to take shelter from the dangers with which her person and health were threatened. She wished to come to her native country, to drink the waters at Bourbon and find safety for her life which was in danger. In France she was received with joy. The populace, regarding her as the sister, daughter, and aunt of their kings, respected her ; the queen was delighted to help her in her troubles and to soften them as much as she could; although she had never been well-treated by her, who had, on the contrary, caused her many griefs while still in France. For the princess, being supported by the queen-mother [Marie 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 117 de' Medici] who did not like the queen, did her those little malicious things which are great ills to those who receive them at certain times, but are not capable of altering friend- ship as soon as they are things of the past. The King of England had contributed much to soften these dislikes ; for after his marriage he took pleasure in all opportunities of obliging our queen, particularly in the person of Madame de Chevreuse during her first exile. So that when the Queen of England arrived in France, the queen had a fine occasion to return in person to that afflicted princess all that she owed to the King of England; and the two princesses having changed in feeling, the one was truly glad to oblige the other, and she who was thus well received and well treated showed the greatest gratitude. The Queen of England remained at Bourbon three months endeavouring to recover her health, and our queen offered all that depended on the king and herself. I had the honour of approaching this imhappy princess familiarly, and I heard from her the beginning and end of their misfortunes, for she did me the honour to relate them to me in that solitary place, where peace and rest reigned without disturbance. I left her at Bourbon, where the queen, not contenting herself with the offers she had made to her, which were only compliments, sent her all the money necessary for her subsistence, also great sums which she conveyed to the king her husband. But as that unhappy prince, who was only too good, was destined to serve as a formidable warning to all kings of the weakness of their power, and of the pleasure Fortune sometimes takes in playing with crowns and overthrowing the best-established thrones, taking them and returning them at her caprice, all was useless to him. As the memory of King Henri IV. is dear to Frenchmen, the Queen of England, his granddaughter, was constantly fol- 118 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. lowed by a great crowd of people mnning to see her. She was very ill and much changed ; her misfortunes had given her such sadness, and her mind was so fiUed with her sor- rows, that she wept continually, which shows what the suffer- ings of soul and body can do, for by nature this princess was gay and talked pleasantly. But now, in the grievous state to which she was reduced, she said one day to the great physician Mayerne, who attended her, that she felt her miad weakening, and feared that she might become crazy. To which, as she told me, he answered brusquely, " You need not fear it, madame, for you are that already." She certainly found some remedy for her bodUy Uls in France, her native coun- try, the air and the baths of which were beneficial to her, but it needed much time to soften her other woes. I shall tell elsewhere how she seemed to us when we saw her at Court. The campaign of the Due d' Enghien increased his reputa- tion to a dazzling glory, and he fought a battle at Fribourg which wUl surely hold a great place isx history ; but as chance willed that I did not remark its particulars, and do not find them in my notes, I shall say no more about it. Elisabeth of France, Queen of Spain, died at the begia- ning of this winter, a worthy daughter of Henri le Grand, and most deserving of the esteem that Europe felt for her. She was regretted throughout its whole extent, and her people, who felt a great admiration for her, were afiiicted. The king, her husband, had not always loved her as she deserved, because he was too gallant, not to say worse. But before she died he was beginning to recognize her noble qualities and her capacity. He left her for a time to govern his kingdom, which she did with much glory, so that he re- gretted her greatly. I have heard my late mother (who had the honour to know her on her return from Spain and before 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 119 the princess left France) say that she was beautiful and agreeable, and glad of the prospect of being queen of so grand a kingdom. She lived there some years pleasantly. The Prince of Spain was handsome and well-made, and they loved each other. It is even said that the king her father-in-law, finding her beautiful, put off joining them, with a notion of taking her for himself. I have since been told that this was only true in that he loved her as his daughter, and very tenderly. But the prince her husband, after he became king [Philip lY.] had so many mistresses of aU kinds that, from the jealousy she had reason to feel, her whole life became a torture as keen as it was long and sorrowful She had reason to complain, but her complaints were always useless, and though she was as chaste as he was voluptuous, the cus- toms of Spain were rigorous against her." The queen, wishing to render to the memory of this illustrious queen, doubly her sister-in-law, all that was due to her as a daughter of France, ordered, according to custom, a service to be performed with the magnificence that was due to so great a princess. On such occasions it often happens that precedence, which is not well-regulated ia France, produces bitter quarrels. Mademoiselle [daughter of Gaston, Due d'Orl&ins] as the granddaughter of Henri TV., claimed that there was much distiuction to be made between herself and the Priucesse de Cond^. On the other hand, the Due d'Enghien, wishing to sustain his rank and the grandeur his birth and glory gave him, de- manded of the queen that the duchess, his wife, should follow Mademoiselle on all occasions, declaring that the latter was only first princess of the blood. The queen, 1 Her beautiful portrait by Rubens will be found in Brantome's " Book of the Ladies," belonging to these " Historical Memoirs." — Te. 120 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. paying at that time little attention to the interests of Mademoiselle, without considering that she was then in pos- session of certain prerogatives which created a difference be- tween her family and that of Cond4 granted what he asked. Madame de LonguevUle [the Due d'Enghien's sister] who had lost her rank by marrying the Due de Longueville and had taken a patent from the king under which she preserved it, also wished to use this occasion to re-establish herself openly in the rights her Bourbon blood gave her ; she there- fore claimed to follow the Duchesse d'Enghien and do as she did. Mademoiselle, being warned of the designs against her, resolved not to go to the service of her aunt, the Queen of Spain. AVhen the time came to start, she said she was ill and could not leave her room. The queen, as soon as she knew what the difficulty was, felt displeased ; she sent her orders to go, and complained to the Due d'Orldans. That prince blamed his daughter, and disapproved of her proceedings, so that Mademoiselle found herself de- serted, not only by the queen but by her father, whose grandem: she was sustaining by maintaining her own rank. But not being able to hold out against such rough attack, she yielded, against her will, to force, went to Notre-Dame, and exposed herself to the pretensions of those who, having the honour to be her relations, wished to equal her. On start- ing, she had ordered that two persons should bear her train, but as soon as the Due d'Enghien saw this, he signed to one of his suite to join the person who was already bearing the train of his wife, whom he led by the hand. Madame de Longueville, seeing that Mademoiselle, by seating herself in the canon's chairs in the choir, intended to put an empty place between them, pushed the Duchesse d'Enghien, her sister-in-law, and they both took the seats next to her. 1644-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 121 Mademoiselle was keenly affronted by this treatment. She wept, and made much talk about it ; representing that she possessed many marks of distinction between herself and the Princesse de Cond^, who was bound on all occa- sions to give way to her, — such, for instance, as having a dais in the king's house, a mailed coach [carrosse clone], foot- men with their hose turned over, and the privilege of giving the princesses of the blood chairs without backs in her own house, while she was in an armchair. Her anger was, however, crushed down by that of the queen against her. It was pro- posed to put her in a convent for a few days' punishment, but instead of bearing her trifling disgrace with noble indif- ference, she had recourse to the Princesse de Cond^ or rather, she accepted the offer the princess made her to heal matters with the queen, who blamed her extremely. The Due d'Enghien gave as his reasons that she ought to be satisfied with the prerogatives she had, without always pretending to fresh ones, and that the advantages she enjoyed were all she ought to have. Monsieur bethought himself later that his daughter was right. ■ He then grew angry, complained to the queen, and went and sulked for three days at Chambord. The queen, who had allowed the Due d'Enghien to do what he did, felt obliged, for the sake of peace, to relieve him of all fault and take the blame on herself, so that finally, with a few excuses on her part, and a few compliments from the Due d'Enghien, the matter was pacified. The Queen of England came to Paris soon after this affair, having been three or four months at Bourbon. The queen went out of the city to receive her, with the king and the Due d'Anjou (the actual Monsieur). These two great prin- cesses embraced with much tenderness and friendship, and paid each other compliments which were not mere compli- ments. They took the English queen to lodge in the 122 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. iv. Louvre, wMch was then unoccupied ; and for a country-house they gave her Samt-Germain. As the king's affairs were in good condition and the wars had not yet ruined the royal finances, they gave her a pension of ten or twelve thousand crowns a month, so that in all things she had great reason to praise the queen. The Queen of England was much disfigured by the sever- ity of her illness and her misfortunes, no trace remainiug of her past beauty. Her eyes were fine, her complexion admirable, and her nose well-shaped. There was some- thiug so agreeable in her face that it made her beloved by every one, but she was thiu and short ; her figure was even deformed, and her mouth, never handsome naturally, was now, from the thinness of her face, too large. I have seen her portraits, done in the days of her beauty, which show that she was very pleasing ; but as that beauty lasted but the space of a morning and left her before her midday, she was accustomed to declare that no woman could be handsome after twenty-two years of age. To complete the presentation of her such as I saw her, I must add that she had infinite wit, and a brilliant mind which pleased all spectators. She was agreeable in society, honourable, gentle, and easy ; living with those who had the honour to approach her without ceremony. Her tempera- ment inclined her to gaiety ; and even amid her tears, if it occurred to her to say something amusing, she would stop them to divert the company. The almost continual suffer- ing she endured gave her much gravity and contempt for life, which, to my thinking, made her more solid, more se- rious, more estimable than she might have been had she always been happy. She was naturally liberal ; and those who knew her in prosperity assured us she had exhausted her wealth in doing good to those she loved. 164-1-1645] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 123 Her favourite, who, so the public said, had a share in the misfortunes of England, was a rather worthy man, of a gentle mind which seemed very narrow and more fitted for petty things than great ones. He had the fidelity towards her which ministers usually have; he wanted money, before all else, to meet his expenses, which were large. The princess no doubt had too much confidence ■in him, but it is true that he did not govern her abso- lutely ; she often had a will quite contrary to his, which she maintained as the absolute mistress. She supported her opinions with strong reasons ; but they were always accompanied with a charm, a raillery that pleased and corrected the signs of haughtiness and courage which she had shown in the principal actions of her life. She lacked the great and noble knowledge which is acquired by reading. Her misfortunes had repaired that defect, for grievous experience had given her capacity. We saw her in France lose the tottering crown she still wore, lose the king her husband by a dreadful death, and suffer with constancy the adversities it pleased God to send her. The cabinets of kings are stages on which are performed continually the plays that occupy the minds of the whole world. Some are simply comic, others are tragic, and their greatest events are caused by trifles. After speaking of the horrible effects of Fortune, and the indifference with which she scoffs at crowned heads, we should consider those produced by that mad passion of ambition, which is not content with intrigues of pleasure, but, mingling in affairs more serious, never fails to create the greatest disorders when it masters the hearts of men. V. 1645 — 1646. The spring of this year having prompted the princes to* go to the army, they started, giving every public sign of the impatience they felt to toil in war for the glory of France and the good of the State. The Due d'OrMans took com- mand of the army of Flanders, the Due d'Enghien that of Germany, while the queen spent a good part of the summer of this year in Paris. The Due d'Enghien, after having, as usual, carried alarm and terror into Germany, fought a battle at ISTordlingen [August 3, 1645] which was one of his finest actions. I lost there two relations of my own : Lanquetot and Gr^monville, both honourable gentlemen. Their loss was sore to me, for, besides the relationship, they were friends to me, which has to be considered. The day that the news of the winning of this battle came, I was surprised as I returned from a walk in the Palais-Eoyal to see a great number of persons talking together in separate groups. The emotion that the love of country inspires in all hearts makes itself felt on such occasions. Some of my acquaintance came up to me to tell me that a battle was won, but also that a great many men were killed. The first feeling in all was joy, then followed fear, and each for him- self seemed already regretting a friend or relative dead. This consternation in others imparted itself to me, and though my affection for the queen was sufficiently strong not to fail in sharing the satisfaction that such great news woiild surely give her, the sorrow of families touched me, 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 125 and my feelings were much divided. With these thoughts I went upstairs. Victories are the delight of sovereigns, all the more because they taste their pleasures without deeply sharing the pain of private persons. It was not that the queen on such occasions did not seem to have much humanity and to regret men of merit, but — in short she was queen. The cardinal came at once to tell her the particulars of this great battle. When she saw him she went to meet him with a smiling, satisfied face. He received her by saying in a grave tone : " Madame, so many are dead that your Majesty can scarcely rejoice at this victory." Perhaps he spoke in this way to win the good graces of those present and to gain the reputation of being tender to his friends ; but whether the sentiment was natural to him or whether he took pains to affect it from policy, he deserves praise for it. A man who exercises virtue, whether it be by his will or from his inclination, does not fail in being estimable ; for motives are impenetrable, and it belongs to Him only who formed the human heart to know it and judge it. The cardinal began with the name of the Marechal de Gramont, taken prisoner, at which he showed much regret ; and then he read to the queen the list of deaths ; it was by that reading that I learned I had lost my two relatives and several of my friends whom I regretted much. While the princes of the blood were gaining almost con- tinual victories over the enemy [September, 1645] and France through its good fortune was making itself revered in all Europe, the queen was meditating how to find money to continue the war with the same glory as heretofore. She resolved to go before parliament to get certain edicts passed, considering that course the quickest remedy to apply to the wants of the State. This remedy, however, is violent and 126 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE [chap. v. mjurious to the State itself ; the people always fear it ; and the parliaments usually seek by humble entreaties to mod- erate the excessive terms proposed to them. But it some- times happens that they use this pretext to increase the authority of their office and to carry resistance far beyond the public good ; that is to say, they endeavour to take part in the ministry, when times and occasions give them the audacity to aim for it. The parliament of Paris believed that it could find, during the regency, opportunity to make itself felt; and those of this assembly who called themselves guardians of the king desired to make known their power by opposing that of the regent. During the late reign their authority had been humbled ; they sought impatiently for means to raise it, and at last their conduct revealed their intention. It was veiled, however, by zeal for the public good ; and in this first en- counter they declared that the sole rule of their sentiments was the desire to do right. As soon as the queen proposed to go before parliament, they said that she had not the right to do so. She laughed at this and said her right was founded on precedent, for the late queen, Marie de' Medici, had gone there. She resolved, however, to wait the return of the Due d'Orl^ans ; for though she did not need his presence as a necessary thing, the prince was then living with her on such good terms that she thought, with reason, that she could not show him too much consideration ; and moreover, she was convinced that the presence of the king's uncle would always be advantageous to her son's affairs. The Due d'Orl^ans having arrived, and the day being fixed to go to parliament, the captain of the Guards, as was customary, visited all the prisons and took the keys of the Palais de Justice. The queen rose very early, and dressed with more care than usual. She wore earrings of large dia- 1645-1646] MEMOIRS or MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 127 monds mingled with very large and pear-shaped pearls. On her bosom she had a cross of the same sort, of great value. This adornment, with her black veil, made her seem beautiful and of fine presence, and as such she pleased the whole assembly. Many gazed at her with admiration; and all acknowledged that iu the gravity and sweetness of her eyes they recognized the grandeur of her birth and the beauty of her life and morals. The companies of the Guards and the Suisses were ordered to make a hedge, as was customary, along the way to the Palais de Justice ; and the queen with the king, whose beauty was then perfect, walked between them with aU the grandeur that accompanies a king of Prance when he marches in ceremony ; on which occasion he is followed by his guards, his Suisses, his light-horse cavalry, his mus- keteers, and many gentlemen and nobles. Four presidents came to receive the king and queen at the Sainte-Chapelle, where their Majesties heard mass. The king, who was still ia timics, was carried to his lit de justice by his chief equerry. Mademoiselle de Beaumont, my sister, and I had gone before to see the arrival of the king and queen, and to be present at the function, ia which we took much interest because the queen was the chief actress. When the king was placed, she stationed herself at his right hand. The Due d'OrMans (stUl called Monsieur) was below the queen, and the Prince de Cond^ beside him. Then came the dukes and peers and the marshals of France, according to the rank of their duchies. On the other side were Cardinal Mazarin and several ecclesiastical peers. At the feet of the king was the Due de Joyeuse, his grand chamberlain, reclining on a hassock. Below was the chan- cellor of France, and beside him on the floor, were the judges of the courts. On the other side of the chancellor was a 128 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. v. bench, on which were seated the Princesse de Cond^ and the Princesse de Carignan, and farther down were the queen's maids-of-honour. The four secretaries of State were below on another bench, opposite to the judges. Madame de Senec^ the king's governess, stood beside the king ; she seemed to me to be the nearest to the lit de justice} After this order was fully established, the kiag saluted the whole assembly; and after casting his eyes at the queen as if to ask her approval, he said aloud : " Messieurs, I have come here to talk to you of my affairs; my chancellor wiU tell you my will." He pronounced those few words with a grace that gave joy to the whole assembly; and the joy was followed by public acclamation that lasted a long time. When the noise ceased, the chancellor, in an eloquent discourse, represented the necessities of the State, the splendid and celebrated victories we had won over the enemy, the desire the queen had for peace, and the need of contuming the war vigorously in order to force the Spaniards to make peace by the con- tinuation of our conquests; and for these results, he con- cluded, money was required, for in that lay the whole secret. The first president [Matthieu M0I6, son of the great president under Henri IV.] praised the queen strongly, exaggerated the good fortune of France, the wise conduct of the minister, and the valour of the princes of the blood. In the same manner he represented with much vigour the necessities of the people, and made an harangue that was calculated to please both kiag and subjects. The advocate-general Talon [Omer Talon] spoke in a bolder manner ; he represented to the queen the oppressed people, ruined by past and present wars, asked mercy for them on his knees in a pathetic and * This description tallies very closely with Snint-Simon's famous scene and diagram of Louis XV.'s first lit de justice under the regency. — Tu. 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 129 touching manner, and said things much opposed to the supreme authority of favourites. The parliament thought that he had spoken well ; but I think that the minister was not well pleased, for I heard the speaker blamed by the Court adulators.^ The queen went to bed immediately on her return, to rest from this fatigue. After her dinner I found her in bed, and the cardinal with her. On opening the door of her room I made a noise ; whereupon she asked one of her women, standing out of respect at a little distance, who it was. She heard, from myself, that it was I who entered, and she did me the honour to call me to her and wished me to give my opinion as to what had taken place that morning in parlia- ment. She asked me if the king had not pleased me infi- nitely when he spoke with such grace, and whether I had noticed his tender action in turning towards her ; and she specially ordered me to tell her what I thought of the harangues. As she saw by my answer that I was pretty well satisfied with the freedom of the advocate-general and spoke of it with respect, she replied in these noble words, worthy of a great queen : " You do right to praise him ; I strongly approve the firmness of his speech, and the warmth with which he defended the poor people. I esteem him, for we are always too much flattered ; and yet I think he said a little too much for a person as well-intentioned as I am, who desire with all my heart to relieve the people." The queen and her minister then talked of peace, and she showed an extreme desire for it ; but according to what the minister then told her, and I think he spoke the truth, it was necessary to continue the war to constrain the enemy to 1 In Omer Talon's " Memoires " he gives an account of this, and shows how his intervention only added to the bad state of the financial affairs. — Pb. Ed. VOL. I. — 9 130 MEMOIRS 01' MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. v. make peace. In all this conversation, which was long, I saw nothing in the queen but upright intentions for the good of the State and the relief of the people ; even the cardinal seemed to me touched by it. Other persons came in whose presence changed the topic. They spoke of Mademoiselle de Eohan, who, to satisfy the then reigning star, was about to marry Chabot, a gentleman of good and illustrious family, well-made, and a very worthy man, but, as I have said elsewhere, very inferior to the priaces whom she might have married. She had great beauty, much intelligence, and was herself of illustrious birth; with it all she was very rich, as the heiress of the house of Eohan allied to that of our kings, and daughter of that great Due de Eohan so renowned in the history of the wars of the Huguenots. He had been their leader; and by his " Memoirs " we learn from himself the events of his life. Mademoiselle de Eohan married therefore from inclina- tion, after having passed her first youth with the reputation of so great a pride and a virtue so extraordinary that it was thought she could never be touched by any passion ; but the love that captured her heart forced her to be more gentle and less ambitious. Chabot was descended from the ad- miral of that name; but he was only a simple gentleman, without property or any establishment, whose sole advantage was that he had the good fortune to please a girl whom the Comte de Soissons thought to marry, and who could have married the Duke of Weimar, as rich in glory as the Caesars and Alexanders, whom she slighted with many others, among them the Due de Nemours, the eldest of the princes of the house of Savoie, who, as I have been told, was handsome and well-made. This was her last triumph, and the begin- ning of Chabot was that he profited by the failure of that 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 131 marriage, seeing that the object of the desires of so many princes appeared to care for no one. She contiaued several years in this state; during which Chabot, under the name of relative and friend, often entered her room, and, by means of a sister of his who was with her, acquired her confidence. This familiarity gave biTn an opportunity of insiauating himself into her heart ; and when she perceived it she could no longer drive bim out. I do not doubt that her reason and her pride gave her strange disquietudes, and often ill-treated the new-comer who wished to overthrow their empire. That soul so haughty had doubtless felt all that pride can make a person with so much ambition suffer. Honour, a powerful phantom which gives and takes away the reputation of honest men more in accordance with the clamour of the many than in obedience to true justice, often prompted her to renoimce the friendship that so touched her. Xevertheless, I do not know if the sternness of her reflec- tions was not too gi-eat ; for it seems as if that which is in conformity with God's demands might always be excusable, and that her greatest fault iu the matter was her failure of respect towards her mother. But that which calls itself the great world decides in another manner; and though every one knows how difficult it is to please that world, we all submit to its tyranny. We run incessantly after its appro- bation, OUT lives are spent in that servitude, and never do we taste either sweetness or liberty because we have not the boldness to rise above vulgar opinions. At last, however, in spite of her combats, the pride of this illustrious heiress was lowered, and her reason driven off as importunate. The Duchesse de Eohan, her mother, was strongly opposed to the marriage, and the relatives of the house of Eohan were in despair. The friends of the heiress, who had re- 132 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap, v vered her as a divinity, either from jealousy of Chabot, whom they regarded as their own equal, or from zeal to her interests, became her most cruel enemies. They banded together against her in order to persecute her ; which they did with an ardour in which there was far more outrage than love. This harshness which she encountered in the souls of her false friends, took away from her all the sweet- ness of her marriage, and made her know by experience that we are not to seek for true satisfaction in this life, and that whatever side the spirit of man turns to, it finds nothing but thorns. The fine autumn season (October, 1645), so suitable for a stay at Fontaiaebleau, induced the queen to go there, where (not to change our topic) we were to see a marriage far more dazzling than that of Mademoiselle de Rohan, because of the rank of the personages, whose birth was royal and sov- ereign, who had done nothing that was not strictly in order, but about whom nevertheless there was something extraor- dinary. The King of Poland, king by election and legiti- mate heir to the crown of Sweden, wishing to marry, had inquired, sub rosa, if Mademoiselle wished to be a queen. She received the proposal with great contempt ; the age of the king, his gout, and the barbarism of his country made her refuse him in a manner that showed she did not think him worthy of her. He then had some thoughts of Made- moiselle de Guise ; but that princess was in no favour at Court, because she had friends who were not friends of the cardinal; and although she had virtue, merit, and some remains of her great beauty, the marriage could not take place, for the queen had no inclination for it, and Mademoi- selle de Guise took no pains to bring it about. The old king then selected the Princesse Marie [de Gon- zague], who had been proposed to him with others. This 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 133 princess, daughter of the Duke of Mantua, had been beau- tiful and agreeable; and was still so, although she had passed the first years of that youth which has the privilege of embellishing every woman. Monsieur, the king's brother, had been in love with her when he was presumptive heir to the crown. The queen his mother, Marie de' Medici, who had other designs for him, feared this passion, and sent the Princesse Marie to Vincennes, where she was for some time the innocent victim of a laudable affection. But the usual inconstancy of men and the downfall of Queen Marie de' Medici, in which the prince was involved, put an end to this little romance. When a hero gives up his love at the first unpropitious event it is to be supposed that the heroine will not be pleased and that the story is no longer charming. This love, which at first made a great noise and doubtless an impression on the heart of the Prin- cesse Marie, had short duration in that of Monsieur. But the remembrance of it was bitter to her who was forgotten, and I have heard some friends of the princess say that from the time of her imprisonment she hated the Due d'Orleans with irreconcilable hatred. After this they talked of marrying her to the King of Poland; but as such propositions do not always succeed he married instead of her a German princess, who did not live long, and left him with one daughter. The Duke of Mantua having died, the Princesse Marie remained in Paris, leading an easy and pleasant life among her friends. She thought only of amusing herself and enjoying the pleasure which the society of honourable people gives. In this agree- able condition, however, she was not exempt from vexations, for she had but little means and few husbands at her com- mand. Her affairs grew at last so bad that, the grand equerry Cinq-Mars having, during his favour, loved her, 134 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. v. she listened favourably to him. His passion pleased her; and through this sentiment it was that he entered upon the great designs that ruined him, trusting to the hope that he might become connetaUe, and that with that rank and the splendour of his favour he would be worthy of marrying the daughter of a sovereign. His ruin, which she felt keenly, was m no way honourable to her; it made her friendship for him public and caused her much confusion. After this unfortunate affair, which discredited her and seemed to have lowered that noble pride which never wholly abandons persons of her birth, she had reason to believe she could no longer find happiness in life and that all things would go against her. But the Princesse de Condd had a regard for her; she took up her interests warmly, and applied herself with care to bring about her marriage to the King of Poland. She spoke of it to the queen and to Cardinal Mazarin, and made her son the Due d'Enghien and all his cabal act in favour of it. She in- creased a desire in the queen's mind to choose her in pref- erence to Mademoiselle de Guise ; and the cardinal, on his part, believed that the Princesse Marie, who had no interests contrary to his, and who was poor and crushed by ill-fortime, would feel much gratitude. All these things together made him send Bregi as ambassador to Poland to negotiate the marriage. The latter succeeded so well that he made the king resolve to send ambassadors to ask for her. The Due d'OrMans, who had seen her troubles without pity, now saw her luck without envy ; if he had any feeling left for her, hatred had more share in it than love. The Polish ambassadors were received at Fontainebleau in the great salon of the queen, whose apartments are very beautiful. When they entered, the Princesse Marie was in the circle. She rose, so as not to be present at their 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 135 harangue, and retired to a corner of the room to see them from a distance. She made use of me to screen herself from their sight, and by putting me before her prevented the men who were to be her subjects from perceiving her. After the ceremony, which only lasted the length of a compli- ment, these persons,, who were all dressed in the French fashion and did not seem like foreigners, asked where she was. Some among them, who had already been in France, knew her, and poiated her out to the ambassadors. We saw them turn towards her to salute her, and as I did not hide her much, in spite of her efforts, one of them, as he withdrew, made her a profound bow and all the others in his suite did likewise. At the audience which he had with her the nest day he treated her as Majesty and with the same respect as if she had already been his queen. During the winter we beheld the second Polish embassy, which was fine and worthy of curiosity. It represented to our minds that ancient magnificence which passed from the Medes to the Persians, the luxury of which has been so well depicted by ancient authors. Though the Scythians have never had the reputation of being given to sensual habits, their descendants, who, at present, are neighbours to the Turks, seem to wish in a way to imitate the grandeur and majesty of the Seraglio. It appears that there still remain among them certain vestiges of their former bar- barism; nevertheless, our Frenchmen, instead of scoffing at them as they proposed to do, were constrained to praise them and acknowledge frankly, to the advantage of their nation, that their entry into Paris deserved our admiration. I saw them pass in the Place Eoyale, from the house of Madame de VeUesavin, who gave us a great collation, where we found very good company to eat it. The Palatine of Posnania and the Bishop of "Warmy were 136 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. t. those whom the King of Poland selected to come and marry the Princesse Marie and bring her to him. They chose to appear dressed in the fashion of their country, the better to show their magnificence and the splendour of their stuffs. The Due d'Elbeuf was appointed by the queen, with a dozen other persons of quality, to receive them, and the carriages of the king, the Due d'OrMans, and the cardinal were sent for them. But, to tell the truth, all this seemed wretched in comparison with what these foreigners brought with them ; and yet they had traversed all Germany ! They made their entry into Paris by the Porte Saint- Antoine, with much grav- ity and the best order in the world. First we saw pass a company of foot-guards, dressed in red and yellow, with great jewelled buttons on their coats. They were commanded by two or three officers, richly clothed and very well mounted. Their coats were Turkish jackets of great beauty. Over them they wore a wide mantle with long sleeves which they allowed to hang negligently down the sides of their horses. Their jackets were enriched with buttons of diamonds, rubies, and pearls, and the mantles the same, which were lined like the jackets. After this company came another of the same kind com- manded by oflicers more richly dressed. Their jackets and mantles were the same colour as that of their heiduques, green and gray. We then saw two other companies on horseback, who wore the same uniform as those on foot, one being red and yellow, the other green and gray, except that these were of richer material, and the caparison of the horses finer; also they wore more jewels. After them came our academistes} who, to do honour to the foreign embassy and dishonour to their own land, had gone to meet it; they 1 Meaning persons from the riding-schools, which were then called academies ; these were nearly all young seigneurs. — Fk. Ed. 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 137 seemed poor, and their horses also, though they were loaded with ribbons and feathers of all colours. On this occasion the French fashion of wearing no adornment but ribbons appeared mean and ridiculous. After these companies came many Polish seigneurs, each with their suite and their liveries, dressed in heavy brocades of silver and gold. Their stuffs were so rich, so beautiful, and the colours so vivid, that nothing in the world could be more pleasing. Diamonds glittered on their jackets ; and yet, amid these riches, it must be owned that their magnificence had much that was barbaric. They wore no linen; they never slept in sheets like Europeans, but in skins of fur with which they wrapped themselves. Under their fur caps their heads were shaved, all but one little lock at the top of their heads which they allowed to hang down behind. As a general thing, they are so fat that they are sickening to look at ; and in all that concerns their persons they are dirty. Each Pole had a Frenchman at his side. These were men of the Court, all well-made, who had gone to meet them. This procession covered a long space of ground ; conse- quently its entry was very fine. There was one chief officer, who, as a mark of his dignity, wore three cock's-feathers in his cap, and the decoration of his horse was composed of the same kind of feathers. Some of their horses were painted red, and this fashion, though fantastic, was not thought unpleasing. The Palatine and the Bishop of Warmy came last ; behind them were the Due d'Elbeuf and his son the Prince d'Harcourt. The Palatine was handsome in face ; he had a fine complexion and black eyes, with a good expres- sion, and he wore his beard rather long and rather thick. The bishop also had a good expression, and was in no way different from the others, not even in the shaved head. After 138 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. v. ttem came their coaches, covered with, massive silver where ours have only iron. The horses that drew them were hand- some and fat and did not seem tired with their journey. In short, all that we saw was worthy of being shown on parade. They crossed the whole city iu this state ; the populace were in the streets, the people of quality at their windows. The king and queen were on a balcony which overlooked the open space, iutendiug to see them; but they did not have that pleasure, because it was too late when the procession passed. They were taken to lodge at the Vendome mansion, which was empty on account of its master's exile; and there the king provided for them every day, magnificently. These foreigners had audience in the grand gallery of the Palais-Eoyal, which was shortened to one half of its length by a platform on which the queen stood. The princesses and duchesses who formed the circle, with the other ladies, were behind her. It was intended to celebrate the marriage with all the ceremonies required on such occasions, in order to show the grandeur of France to this barbaric nation ; but as precedence was not established, and each prince wished to go before the others, the plan was stopped by this difficulty. Great murmuring had arisen on all sides, and so many old disputes were revived that the queen thought best to smother the whole thing by having the ceremony in private. They began with Mademoiselle, in order to exclude all the rest, so that never was a wedding as solitary when done beneath the purple and a sceptre. The day being chosen, the Princesse Marie came very early in the morning from the hotel de Nevers to the room of Madame de Bregi, wife of the ambassador of France, who lodged in the Palais-Eoyal. This room was near enough to the chapel for her to go down easily when all was ready. I went to see her as she was dressing for this celebrated 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 139 day. I found her looking handsome, and whiter, I thought, than usual, though she was naturally very much so; but ladies on great occasions are never satisiied with what nature gives them. She had a fine figure, and was then of a reasonable plumpness. She was thirty-three years old. Her eyes were black and handsome, hair of the same colour, complexion and teeth beautiful, and the other features of her face neither handsome nor ugly; but altogether she had beauty, with the grand air in her person that befits a queen. She seemed to deserve all she had expected to have in marrying the Due d'Orl&ns, and all she was really to have in marrying a king. Her wedding dress was a body and petticoat of cloth of silver with silver embroideries. Above this she had in- tended to wear her Polish royal mantle, which is white, strewn with great flashes of gold ; but as the marriage was performed without ceremony the queen was of opinion that she ought not to wear it. She was left therefore with only the body and white petticoat, which latter, being in- tended to be worn underneath, was too short and had not the dignity required by the occasion. She was decked with the pearls and diamonds of the crown, which the queen had put together with her own hands. This adornment accom- panied a closed crown made of large diamonds and very large pearls of great price. When she was ready to put the crown on her head, she doubted if she ought to do so before the ceremony, and she ordered me to go to the queen and ask her opinion ; the queen did me the honour to tell me that as yet she had no right to wear it. When she was dressed she wished to show herself to the queen, who was in her own apartment, and she crossed the terrace which joins the two buildings, with two of her friends, my sister and myself. 140 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. v. The Poles, who were in the courtyard below awaiting the hour for the mass, seeing her, sent up shouts of joy and gave her many benedictions. She found the queen in her room, and, after thanking her for the kiadness she had shown her, she addressed the cardiaal, who had worthily served her, and told him she came to show him whether the crown he had placed upon her head became her. The queen, who was weariug her great pearls and her mourniag mantle, then led the princess to the chapel through the great gallery. There was no one present but the king, the queen, the queen that was to be, the little Monsieur and the Due d'Orl^ans. The priacess knelt upon the foot-cloth laid in the centre of the chapel, the kiug on her right side, the queen on her left. Monsieur the king's brother, and the Due d'Orldans, the king's uncle, were behind on their knees upon the foot-cloth ; consequently the latter was for this day her inferior. This moment, when she saw herself raised above that faithless prince, above even the queen whose subject she had been before her father became sover- eign, was no doubt most agreeable and glorious to her. The Bishop of Warmy celebrated the mass and the mar- riage of his king and queen, whom the Palatine married in the name of his master. After mass was said they placed the crown upon her head. It was Madame de Senec^ and Champagne, the hair-dresser, who performed that ofl&ce for her. Besides the Poles, there was no one in the chapel but the royal personages and those of the blood royal whom I have just named, except the Mar^chale d'Estr^es, Madame de Montausier, and Madame de Choisy. The last three were the intimate friends of the Queen of Poland, and she had entreated the queen to allow them to be present. Madame de Bregi, my sister, and I were also present. As good is usually mingled with evil, all the grandeur of 1645-1646] JVIEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 141 the Queen of Poland lost much of its splendour when she arrived at her capital, and her joy was evaporated by the presence of the king she had come so far to seek. In Warsaw she was received with little acclamation, for the king was old, oppressed with gout and fat, and so Ol and gloomy that he would allow no ceremonies on her arrival. He did not think her as handsome as her portraits, and showed no esteem for her person. I heard from the Mar^- chale de Gu^briant, who accompanied her by order of the queen, that this old husband received her in church seated on a chair from which he did not rise, or even pre- tend to do so. When she came beside bim she knelt and kissed his hand. He received her salute without the slightest sign of gentle- ness or benignity. He looked at her gravely and let her kiss his hand without saying a word. Then he turned towards Bregi, the ambassador, who stood beside him, and said aloud : " Is that the great beauty about which you told me wonders ? " The Mar^chale de Gu^briant told me that the princess, who saw nothing in him but rudeness and per- ceived the disgust he showed for her, was amazed ; and this bad reception, added to the fatigue of the journey, made her so ugly that the king had reason to be disgusted. The red of vexation and shame is not a good rouge for ladies, and grief takes the fire from their eyes. The king, ill and gouty, rose from his chair after this cruelty, and went to the altar, where, without ceasing his rudeness, he married the queen again; after which they sat down to assist in singing psalms to the praise of God, and in thanks to Him for their marriage. The queen was then taken to the king's palace, where their Polish Majesties were served at supper with a meat which seemed horrible to the eyes of the queen and the Mar^chale de Gudbriant, but 142 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVIiLE. [chap. v. worse a thousand times to their taste. In short, all that they saw frightened them, and at night the queen, terrified at the position in which she found herself, said in a low voice to the mar^chale that she had better return to France. The rest of the day was passed in the same way. The king did not speak to her, and far from showing her any tenderness, she was obliged, after waiting for him, to go into another apartment and pass the night alone. Madame de Gu^briant made complaints, and told certain of the nation whom she knew among those who had accom- panied the queen to Poland, that France would be very ill-pleased if contempt were shown to what she had sent them. She said she could not return satisfied if she did not see the king less indifferent to the queen. Her com- plaints did lessen to some extent the contempt of the king ; they forced him to treat the princess rather better, and live with her as his wife. When Madame de Gu^briant left her, she was growing more contented, and consoling herself with the magnificent gifts that were sent to her from all parts ; for in that country when the kings marry, their subjects are accustomed to make the new queen presents of great value. The hope of growing rich comforted this queen. She became rich, and the treasure she amassed served her soon after in the great trials God sent her, which have made her illustrious through the proofs she then gave to all Europe of her firmness and courage.^ This winter was spent by the Court in perfect tranquillity. A few Kttle jealousies between Mademoiselle and the Prin- cesse de Cond^ occupied the queen's cabinet, but without disturbing it, and if the queen had only followed her own 1 On the death of the king, Ladislas III., she married his brother and successor, Jean Casimir. Her sister, Anne de Gonzague, was the cele- brated Princess Palatine. 1645-1646] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DB MOTTEVILLE. 143 sentiments, and confined the exercise of her will exclusively to herself, we could have boasted that our Court was the most agreeable m. the world, and so have enjoyed the pleasantest life ever tasted by those who have the honour of approaching great personages. VI. 1646 — 1647- The queen was personally amiable ; she treated her ser- vants as friends, though she never took enough pains to do good to those she esteemed and to whom she felt kindly. Persons of right feeling, though deprived of benefits from her through the avarice of her minister, had at least this consolation, that she distinguished them by her esteem, and, though she did not do them many favours, it was not because she thought they were unworthy of them. We were obliged, therefore, to content ourselves with the queen's kind treatment ; and this pleasure, which contained ia itself enough glory to satisfy a faithful heart, was accompanied by great peacefulness. Self-interests did not light the consuming fires of jealousy among us, and our hopes were always so dead, our ambition so crushed, that we could say we had seen a Court only in picture, because we saw it without venturing to form desires about the great in- terests that usually charm men. The queen, who, during the lifetime of the late king and after God had given her children, had talked only of the desire she felt to have them instructed in all knowledge, was much embarrassed when it became a question of how it should be done. There is no one into whose mind it does not come that princes ought to know more than one thing, and we must agree that Latin is not the most necessary knowledge. Politics is the true grammar which they ought to study ; and history, good in all languages, will show them examples, and 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 145 give them views by which to govern great kiagdoms, to control by the same laws peoples of different natures, to maintain them in peace with their neighbours, and make them feared by their enemies. The evil is that this is not a science that can be taught to chUdren; it is only through the experience of some years that these things can be learned. For this reason the queen, convinced that Cardinal Mazarin was the ablest man in Europe, resolved at last to yield up to him the care of educating the king her son. She left to him even the choice of the king's governor, and it was the cardinal who appointed the Marquis de VUleroy to a post so important. He was the wisest man at Court ; he had com- manded the armies ; but his great qualification was knowing better than any one else the interior affairs of the kingdom, and having both capacity and ideas for matters of State. The tutor appointed under him was the Abb^ de Beaumont, a doctor of theology, brought up under Cardinal Eichelieu. He had integrity, but never having devoted himself to belles-lettres was little capable of embellishing the mind of a young prince and of occupying it with the great and inter- esting thiogs which ought not to be unknown to sovereigns. The Marquis de Villeroy and the abb^ both replied to those who made them suggestions, that their conduct was ruled by the superior, to whom was given superintendence of the royal education, this being a title newly invented to make all employments and all offices dependent on the cardinal. I ought to render one testimony to the truth, namely : that the Marquis de Villeroy (soon after Due and Mardchal de France) told me at the time, speaking of the king, whose natural intelligence he admired, that he was not master of the way in which he was being brought up ; and that if he were listened to, he would not leave so good TOL. I. — 10 146 MEMOIRS or MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. a soil without cultivating it at the time it was most impor- tant to do so. For that reason he wished his friends to do him justice and not blame him for doing his duty ill. It is true that he took pains to present to the king those who excelled in any science or art; and he never lost an occasion to relate to him things that had happened in his time, and good sayings that he had heard from persons of the old Court ; about which he made reflections that might be useful to him. The tutor, on the other hand, jealous of his office, took no pleasure in making the king talk with men of intellect, for which he might perhaps have acquired a taste together with a curiosity to learn a thousand things of which he was ignorant; for the king had a natural desire to be told things he did not know, and would himself talk only of things he knew. He was made to translate the Commentaries of Ca;sar ; he learned to dance, to draw, and to ride on horseback ; and he was very skilful in all exercises of the body, as much so as a prince who is not to make a profession of it ought to be. But the queen, who had reserved the supervision she would naturally have in the education of her son over and above that she had yielded to her minister, took great care to maintain in the soul of the young king those sentiments of virtue, honour, and piety, which she had instilled into him from infancy; caring more to prevent a young mind like his from losing the innocence of its morals than to see him better instructed in those things that are apt to take from youth a certain timidity which precedes good judgment and is lost but too soon. At the beginning of the summer [May, 1646], the queen made a journey to Compidgne, whence she went to Amiens to accompany the Due d'Orl^ans on his way to command the army in Flanders, to which, soon after, the Due d'En- 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 147 ghien was added. I stayed in Paris, because, not having certain advantages in servants, journeys were fatiguing to me and very costly. Monsieur delayed a few days later than the queen in order to prepare himself for war, and I remember that many of my friends came to bid me adieu who were killed in that murderous campaign. Valour, so vaunted by all nations and practised by ours, noble as it is, has its drawbacks; and the bravest who rush with such joy to its opportunities, have even more if they return with their legs and arms. It desolates families and robs the Court of its best, and, to tell the whole truth, though nothing in the world is finer than valour, nothing is worse than war. The queen was away on her journey sis weeks. Nothing extraordinary happened, and her return brought us joy, for not only was her intimacy with us gentle, agreeable, and glorious, but we were so accustomed to the honour of seeing her that Paris, during her absence, seemed to us another city, and our life another life. In these first years of the regency the Court was so tranquil and our life so delightful that it was impossible not to love it. Mademoiselle de Beaumont, however, noticed an alteration in the queen's face after her return which threatened her with a little storm. Though the queen on arriving in Paris told the Priacesse de Cond6, who was with her, that she was glad to see us again, it is certain that this yoimg lady in particular had had the misfortime to displease the minister. Her conduct was rather imprudent. She was a dariag girl, whose spirit was high, rough, and Hi-regulated. She blamed the govern- ment with so little caution that she often found spies where she thought she was safe ; and though these qualities were mingled with noble sentiments, as the vessel was without a pilot it was easUy wrecked on that sea, although at the time it was perfectly calm. 148 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. ti. Diirmg the queen's absence she had gone to make a trip with M. and Mme. de Chavigny, who continued to stand ill at Court. This intimacy displeased the cardinal, though it had nothing in itself but what was praiseworthy; but this displeasure induced the cardinal to request the queen to dis- miss her. It is not difficult to make great personages dislike those who talk much and who may therefore be suspected of rashness. On this pretext her dismissal was asked and granted. Though Mademoiselle de Beaumont and I were of different temperaments, and her manner of acting was the opposite of mine, chance had made us friends; I loved in her — without approving her proceedings — her frankness, her spirit, which was natural, and her sentiments, which seemed to me to have a certain stoical virtue. But I made her continual harangues as to her conduct which I did not like, and as to the vehemence of her decisions. She always wanted to reform the State, from that false glory that people give themselves by despising others, and not at all from any true source of honour and integrity. She was the only one who knew of the blame I gave her, and as we were often together Cardinal Mazarin for this reason desired that I also should be sent away from Court. He judged of my thoughts by the friendship I had for her and by the approval I appeared to give to her words. The queen, who had known me from my childhood, and knew that my intentions were upright, could not doubt my fidelity. She was good enough to answer for me to her minister, and to assure him of the propriety of my conduct without inquir- ing of me ; so true is it that on all occasions it is best to do right and not boast of it. This was the cause of my good fortune that the queen never had any ill-opinion of me ; and as Cardinal Mazarin was not strongly determined on my ruin, he let himself be persuaded by her ; and thus I saved 1646-1647] MEMOIKS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 149 myself from a pimishment I did not deserve, and a peril I did not perceive until it had passed. Commands were sent to Mademoiselle de Beaumont not to see the queen again. I was astonished when, on the eve- niug of the same day, I heard this news. It was thought that I should be iacluded and made to feel on this occasion the consequences of the word "cabal." My friends were anxious about me, and when I entered the queen's room, though I myself was far from having any fear, I noticed a change on their faces ; indifferent persons looked at me from a distance ; and all, whispering to their neighbours, thought me lost. One of my friends had the boldness to approach me and pay me a compliment. I asked him, laughing, the reason of such serious discourse, and from him I heard of the dismissal of Mademoiselle de Beaumont. From this, I comprehended easily all the rest. I was sorry for the mis- fortime of my friend, but I did not feel, I think, any trouble in my soul that could shame me. As I was sure of my own innocence, I went abruptly into the cabinet where the queen was ; and in that instant, despite the charms of her presence and the honour I had in being admitted to it, it crossed my mind that the benefits we possess at a Court, and even the favour I had had there, are not true benefits worthy of esteem ; and that perhaps my dismissal, casting me against my will into solitude, might be to me a veritable happiness ; for it is not one to live in a place where it is almost impos- sible to keep one's self from weaknesses which give as much pain as they do vexation to those who are intelligent enough to recognize them. I was not long in this effort to strengthen myself by reason against my dismissal. The queen, who' was afraid that the affair of Mile, de Beaumont would cause me uneasiness, took care to remove it. As soon as she saw me 150 MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. she assumed a kindly face and spoke to me amiably ; and this care, at this moment, showed me the generosity of her soul, which was quite independent of the sentiments of others. She was undressing to enter her bath, for it was very hot weather. As soon as she was in it, I knelt beside the bathtub to speak with her, and I asked her the reason of my friend's dismissal. She did me the honour to reply as follows: that she had sent her away because she had blamed her conduct in a displeasing manner ; that she was one of those persons who cry out against everything, more from bad taste than from anj^ good reason they have to do so ; who disapprove of aU they see, and who discern the actions they pretend to judge solely through their self- conceit. She added that she wondered how I, who had not the same sentiments or the same heart, could have friend- ship with her and be social up to that time with a person so far from my own nature. It was time to say no more, and I merely tried to soften the queen's resentment. I excused my friend on the hasti- ness of her mind and her impetuous temperament ; and, try- ing to justify her good intentions, I assured the queen that the foundation was good, and that in all essential things I believed she would never fail in fidelity to her service or in zeal for her interests. At that moment the queen drew her hand from the water and laid it all wet upon mine, which she pressed, saying, in tones to be remembered: "You are too good, Madame de MotteviUe: I assure you she would not do as much for you, and I know what I say." Those words impressed themselves deeply on my soul, and although they did not make me wholly suspect my friend, because it would not be just to doubt for so slight a cause, they at least made me more easily enlightened in the future, so that in course of time I became altogether undeceived. The hard 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 151 experience I have had of the fictitious friendship of human beings has forced me to believe that there is nothing so rare in this world as probity, or a good heart capable of gratitude to those who act uprightly. Cardiaal Mazarin also spoke to me on the subjects of complaint he thought he had against me; he told me that my friends did me harm, meaning this ezHed one and Com- mander de Jars. He let me know that Mile, de Beaumont made me offensive in her way, and that the queen had been told that when she wanted to point some specially sharp satire against her she always said, " Madame de Motteville and I think, or say, or judge thus and so," and to strengthen herself she brought me into the game about whatever she alleged. I easUy understood the cardiaal's mind when he spoke to me in this manner. I knew very well that no regard for me led him to make me that confidence ; and that his only object was to part and disunite us, by letting me know I must follow that course if I wished to please him. But, as for truth, I think he did not deceive me, and that Mile, de Beaumont, who, in spite of her free-thinkiug mind, was shrewd and politic, wished to have confederates. I had often, also, surprised her in ways of acting to insure that I was not more agreeable to the queen than herself. I contented myself, however, by replying to the minister as I had to the queen. I excused her of whom he com- plained as best I could ; and, separating my conduct from that of others, I tried to persuade him in my favour. I did not acquire his good graces in this way; because he never esteemed those who made it a principle to act honestly and without treachery; but as he had softness and benignity and had seen the queen show an inclina- tion to protect me, I found it easy to cure his mind of its dislike. My words had enough force to induce him 152 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. to leave me in peace, but not enough to produce any good effects on my fortunes. I own that I did not apply myself to succeed in that. Moreover, I always had friends whom he hated, perhaps justly, whose proceediugs I was never willing to blame ; and through this fidelity which we owe to one another, I have preferred the pleasure of serving them to that of promotiug my own affairs. The queen had entirely settled down into followiag the advice of this minister ; he knew that we were not neces- sary to her, and he no longer feared that any one could injure him with her. For this reason he continued with us on the same terms. As for me, he let me live on with- out doiag me either good or evil; as for those who dis- pleased him, he found means to dismiss them when th«y had given enough cause by their conduct to obtain the consent of the queen. But the truth must be told that he used his power with laudable moderation ; he loved the State, and served the king with a fidelity that deserved the confidence the queen placed in him. Directly after the death of the Due de Brdz^ [killed at the naval battle of Orbitello] the Prince de Cond^ attacked the Duchesse d'Aiguillon, who claimed that the Duchesse d'Enghien could not inherit from her brother the Due de Br^zd, because she had renounced her inheritance on marry- ing. At the same time the prince asked of the queen the vacant admiralty, the government of Brouage, and all its offices. The admiralty was not granted to him, because the control of the sea would have made a first prince of the blood too powerful in France; and the government of Brouage remained in the hands of one of the Due de Br^z^'s favourites, named the Comte de Daugnon, who had quietly taken possession of it against the wiU of the queen and minister. 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OP MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 153 On this refusal, the Prince de Condd left the Court, pre- tending to grumble, and went to his own estates. The Due d'Enghien, who was with the army commanded by Monsieur, wrote to the queen and loudly asserted his claims. He declared them legitimate, and that he hoped to obtain this justice from her. I saw the letters that he wi-ote her. From their style, it was easy to judge that he did not mean the blood of France to be useless to him, and that he had a pride of heart which might one day be trouble- some to the king. It was said of him that his courage and his genius led him more to combats than to politics. On this occasion, however, he observed all the rules of policy, and, quitting the audacious manner in which he was wont to wrangle with Monsieur about everything, he began by humbling himself wholly to him. As tliey were in tlie same army he affected to show him the greatest assiduity, and even sought with care to win over the Abb(5 de la Eiviere. Then- intimacy advanced so much that Monsieur wrote to the queen and to the cardinal in favour of the Due d'Enghien, which caused great uneasiness to the min- ister. The enmity of those two important personages pleased him much more than their union. The Prince de Cond^ was a great politician. He was timid and afraid of quarrelling with the Court. He loved the State, and it was said of him now that his counsels were always for order and justice. He gave them witli much intelligence, and it was often remarked that he would have made a great king. The baseness he had shown under his brother Louis XIII. had been to his shame, but he was now held to be wise and prudent. As he was beginning to grow old and knew the evils a prince tf the blood must endure if he revolts against the king, he readily allowed himself to be persuaded that he must not grumble too long. A few 154 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. days later he sent to Le Tellier, secretary of State, to lodge his complaint. Some negotiation took place, the conclusion of which was that the decision on his claims should be put off tni the end of the campaign, and that meantime they would all be good friends. Thus the prince's wrath passed easily away. He returned to Court, was treated well, and his grievances were apparently calmed — after the manner of great personages, who nearly always hate each other, and make pretence to the contrary as a matter of parade. The Princesse de Cond^, who was then with the queen, although she was ambitious and would have liked to see all the crowns of Europe on the head of her son the Due d'Enghien, never ceased to protest to the queen that she had no interests separate from hers, and that her friendship for her was stronger than her desires for the grandeur of her son ; so that the queen was apparently half convinced, and continued to live with her in her usual manner. If, without being a dupe, she chose to believe what the princess told her, I make bold to be certain that though the latter did not feel the friendship she testified to the queen, she was at least touched by her caresses and the pleasures of favour. From the Princesse de Condi's nature, I feel sure she would have been m despair to have her family quarrel with the Court, as much from fear of losing its delights, as for the sake of her greater interests. The queen spent nearly the whole summer at Fontaine- bleau, and the one spot in the world where the heat is greatest served as her retreat for the hottest season. The amusements of the ladies were entirely confined within the limits of the river Seine. Every day they spent many hours in the water, or ia the forest which they had to pass through in order to reach it; the dust of the one being washed off by the other. 1646-1647] MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 155 The king, who was still a child, bathed also, and his governor, the Mardchal de Villeroy, who never left him, did the same. The queen, and all those who had the honour to accompany her, usually wore long chemises of gray linen which trailed on the ground. The king's gov- ernor wore the same, and modesty was in no wise wounded. All the men imder sixty were at the army ; none remained with the queen but her officers and a small number of courtiers attached to the service or the fortunes of the minister ; otherwise the Court was deserted. I found, never- theless, that we were a good company, for, to my thinking, a Court is never more agreeable than when the crowd is not there. In Flanders, our army, though large and fine, did not do great exploits. They besieged Courtray with thirty thousand men, and the Due de Lorraine with equal numbers camped in front of us. The two armies were a long time looking at each other without doing themselves any harm. We offered battle to the enemy, but they did not accept it. Only a few little fights took place ; but at last they ventured to attack our lines, and we took the place [June 30] in their presence and to their shame. After this conquest the army went straight to attack Mardick, which the Due d'Orl^ans had taken the previous year and which, this year, had been surprised and retaken by the enemy in three hours. Clanleu, whom the Due d'Orldans had placed there in command, being absent when the enemy attacked, was blamed for this loss. Though he was known to be valiant, there was guilt enough in being imprudent or careless. He was doubly so because this siege, by which Monsieur undertook to repair his fault, cost much blood to France, and much treasure. The duke was blamed for undertaking it; he had no naval force, and the 156 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLB. [chap. vi. enemy, having a free exit towards Dnnkerque, could enter as they pleased, so that this paltry little place was able to defend itself. He excused himself on the score of the Dutch, who still made a show of being on our side. They had promised him to be before the place at a certain time with a number of vessels capable of preventing all com- munication by the enemy. As they meant in the end to desert us, they failed to keep this promise iu time, and the duke failed in his project. This was the reason why those who were in Mardick defended themselves so easily against our attacks and made the affair so disadvantageous for us. The enemy made a sortie on the side of the Due d'Enghien ; and that prince, rushiag to the support of his men, was wounded in the face [August 15] by a pot which was flung from the town, and came near killing him or putting out his sight. The Comte de Flex, son-ia-law of the Marquise de Senec6, lady-of-honour to the queen, was killed, — a good man who, with many fine qualities, deserved much. The young Comte de Koche-Guyon had the same misfortune ; he was son of the Due de Liancourt, and sole heir of his father's great wealth, and that of his imcle the Mar^chal de Schomberg. He had married the heiress of the house of Lannoi, who was left pregnant of a daughter to whom she gave birth soon after her husband's death. This young seigneur was extremely regretted, — as much out of considerations for his father and mother, who were respected by all good people, as for the charm of his person ; every one pitied his fate. The Due de Nemours was wounded in the thigh. He was an amiable prince and worthy of all esteem. His wound caused great anxiety to his friends, and many ladies, so it was secretly told, made vows for his recovery. The Chevalier de Fiesque, who, his friends declared, had iatel- 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 157 ligence and virtue, was killed ; he was mourned by the daughter of a great house, who honoured him with a tender and virtuous love. I know none of the particulars, but, according to general opinion, it was founded on piety and virtue, and consequently very remarkable. Soon after his death, this virtuous young woman, wishing to despise utterly the grandeurs of the world, left them all, as unworthy to occupy a place in her soul; she gave herself to God, and shut herself up in the great convent of the Carmelites, where she now serves as an example through the life slie leads. The Marquis de Thymines, sole heir of his house, had the same unfortunate fate as the others. He was son of the Mar^chale d'Estrdes by her first husband. He showed much promise and was a great loss to his family. The day the courier who brought the sad news arrived, all the rooms at Fontainebleau resounded with cries. These illustrious dead and wounded were personages of the Court and among the most distinguished; their relatives and friends wept for them before the eyes of the queen. She went to see Madame de Senecd to console her for the loss of her son-in-law, who left a young widow of extreme virtue, and little children who lost much in losing him. The queen endeavoured to soften the bitter sorrow of others by the com- passion she felt for it, and by the feelings she showed to them. The Princesse de Cond^ was for several days in great anxiety ; her fears led her to believe that they were conceal- ing from her the danger of her son's wound. To the con- dolences of those whom she did not think in lier interests, she answered, being sour and proud, by telling them they were sad because he was not wounded badly enough. The queen might have consoled herself, for the Due d'Enghien was dreaded in the matter of the government of Brouage, and for his claim to the admiralship, which she did 158 MEMOIES OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. not choose to give him. One evening, lying on a little bed in her cabinet, and talking of him to me with the esteem which he deserved that she should feel for him, after expressiag a wish for his recovery, she said a thing which came from the confidence she always had in God : " I believe that God, to whose providence I confide myself wholly, inas- much as He has saved him, knows that he will not do me harm ; and if he should do me any, it will be according to His orders, and for my good and my salvation." Her prophecy has been accomplished; the prince, after doing great services to the king and to her, did her harm. She was compelled to do the same to him ; but I do not doubt that she profited by the good use I saw her make of all the troubles that afterwards come upon her from this source. The Due d'Orl^ans, at the queen's request, returned to Fontainebleau, September 1, 1646, where she awaited him to end their summer together in that agreeable place with the amusements to be found there. She wished to leave the Due d'Enghien to his amusements of cannon and sword, the accompaniments of a warrior who finds his pleasure in battle and the conquest of cities. The king and queen, wishing to welcome Monsieur, intended to go out and meet him, but as their Majesties did not encounter him soon, their plan ended in only a drive. The cardinal continued on until he met him, and returned with him a few hours later. This arrival filled the Court with the Dues de Guise, d'Elboeuf, de Candale, and a fine troop of men of quality, who were not sorry to rest from the fatigues of the siege of Mardick in the loveliest spot in the world. As soon as the Due d'Enghien found himself in a position to act alone, he besieged Fumes, September 9, a little town near Dimkerque, which he took in a few days. This plan, the precursor of a greater, pleased the minister. He had 1646-1647] MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. 159 counselled attacking that place before they went to Mardick, but the Due d'Orldans would not consent, considering the enterprise too difficult. The friendship which had seemingly existed between the two princes during the campaign was not strong enough to keep their hearts from being filled by jealousy and self-love. The Due d'Orldans did not see with- out vexation the project the Due d'Enghien had of taking Dunkerque, which he had kept secret from him ; and the Due d'Enghien did not find himself sole master of that great design without feeling the utmost joy. I have heard Com- minges, who was with him for some time, say that he was not as much wounded when he found himself alone as he was when his superior was with him ; and Comminges sus- pected him of having feigned a greater wound than he had, in order to let Monsieur go away in the belief that he was not in a state to undertake anything. The queen received, September 13, 1646, an ambassador extraordinary from the Queen of Sweden, who apparently came only to bring about the alliance of the two crowns. The person chosen by the Swedish queen for that purpose was the Comte de La Gardie. He was son of the Conn^table of Sweden; his grandfather was French, of, it was said, rather ordinary birth. He was well-made, with a haughty manner and the air of a favourite. He spoke of his queen in terms both passionate and respectful, so that he was readily suspected of greater tenderness than that which he owed her as a subject. He was betrothed to a cousin-german of the queen, whom she herself made him marry. Some said that if she had followed her inclinations she would have taken him herself, but she conquered them by her reason and the grandeur of her soul, which could not endure that lowering. Others said that she was bom free-thinking, and that beuig able to put herself above custom, she either did not love him, 160 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE MOTTEVILLE. [chap. vi. or no longer loved him, when she gave him to another. However that may be, the man seemed worthy of his luck, but more fitted to please than to govern. From the manner in which he spoke of the queen his mis- tress, it seemed that she needed no minister, for although very young she managed all her affairs herself. Besides the hours she gave to study, she employed many, he told us, in the care of her kingdom. Judging by the description he gave of her, she had neither the face, nor the beauty, nor the inclinations of a lady. Instead of making men die of love, she made them die of shame and vexation, and was the cause of the great philosopher Descartes losing his life in that way because she did not approve of his philosophy.-' She wrote to the queen, to Monsieur the king's uncle, to the Due d'Enghien, and to Cardinal Mazarin, letters which I saw and which were much admired for the gallantry of the thoughts, the beauty of the style, and the facility with which she expressed herself in our language, which was familiar to her, as were many others. At that time all the heroic virtues were attributed to her ; she was placed on a par with the most illustrious women of antiquity ; every pen was employed in praising her, and it was said that the highest sciences were to her what the needle and distaff are to the rest of our sex. Fame is a great talker ; it often likes to pass the bounds of truth ; but truth has strength ; it does not long leave a credulous world abandoned to deception. Some time later it was known that the virtues of this Gothic queen were only middling ; she had no respect for Christian- ity, and if she practised its precepts it was more from fancy 1 Christina, Queen of Sweden, daughter of Gustavus Adolphus ; born 1626 ; ascended the throne 1632 ; abdicated in favour of her cousin, Charles Gustavus, 1654 ; and died in Korae 1689. It was the severe climate of Sweden that killed Descartes, and not her ill reception of his philosophy. — Tb. ^ M ^>/fn a ^ueen