{352}
"Such persons as I am alluding to have really embraced the principle on which Protestantism rests. They have thrown off the authority of their own belief, not to accept the formula of another, but to reject all authority. They are like the German 'philosophic' Protestants, or the French universitaries of the West—their conduct is often irreproachable, but their belief is a blank, and their principles distinctly Antinomian, even when they themselves do not put them in practice. I maintain that to one class or other of these all the proselytes made to Protestanism in the East belong. They are either worthless persons, who are happy to substitute an easy-simulated sentiment for whatever amount of discipline their communion imposed, or they are 'philosophers,' sceptics, and infidels. The reports of these allegations, and the existing state of religious and political parties in the East, give scope for these results." (P. 453.)
There are, however, two other reasons, which also act powerfully upon such natives of the East as come under the influence of Protestant missionary teaching, and of which when they have abandoned their own creed, they take especial pride in the possession. The one is the notion which they imbibe from certain misquotations of Holy Writ, as well as from ill-judged (even looking at it from a Protestant point of view) teaching on the part of their new pastors; namely, that every man is "a priest unto God," and that once a Protestant and a "church-member," they are as high in spiritual rank, and far superior in "saving faith" to those whom they formerly regarded and respected as their clergy. The idea is, of course, utterly false, and childish in the extreme, to our views. But the native mind can only be judged by its own standards of worth, and the fact remains as we have said. That the Protestant missionaries would knowingly foster such notions it would be uncharitable to believe; but that such is another result of their teaching there can be no doubt whatever. The missionaries themselves, however, see very little indeed of their congregations, small as they are, save at prayer-meetings and preachings once or twice in that week. It is a curious fact, but one which has struck many even of those who have not yet found courage to knock and ask for admittance into the Catholic Church, that in proportion has a sect, or people, or nation, stray far from unity of the one true fold, so to their pastors and teachers neglect and despise that visiting and looking after their flocks, which forms with us such a prominent part of every parish priest's or missionary's duty. The High-Church Anglican Protestant clergymen—although still very far short of what is done by our clergy—come next to the Catholic priest in this work; and as we descend the scale of Protestantism, we find the practice more and more rare, until I the Socinians such acts of supererogation on the part of their preachers are never heard of. With Protestant missionaries in the East the practice is exceedingly rare: perhaps it is regarded as an infringement upon true religious liberty?
The third reason which has often—very generally, if not always—influence in making the native of Syria, Palestine, or other Eastern lands embrace Protestantism, is that when he has done so, the fact of his being a proselyte puts him indirectly under the "protection" of the English or American consul, if such an official there is—and there generally is one—within even a couple of days' journey from the convert's place of abode. Not that the individual is at once put on the rolls of the English or American subjects. Such was some years ago the practice; but now for very shame's sake this has been altered. But, as the English consuls-general, consuls, and vice-consuls have a sort of standing order to "protect" all Protestants against the tyranny or ill-usage of the local authorities; and as every native Protestant has nearly always some grievance which he makes out to be an injustice committed on himbecause he isa Protestant, so his complaint invariably finds its way to the English consulate, and either the chief of the office or one of his native dragomen deems it imperative upon him to interfere, if not officially, at any rate officiously, with the pasha or other authority of the place.{353}As a matter of course the complaint is listened to, and—justice or not justice—the "protected" of the consul gets what he calls justice, but which his opponent often deems the very reverse. For, be it remarked, that, as a general rule in the East, "justice" means obtaining what you want, not what is yours by law or equity. Your complaint, and what in Europe we call justice,maybe on the same side. If so, all the better; but if not, you will term your view of the affair "justice" all the same; and, if you don't get what you want, you are unjustly treated. This sort of administration is but too often ruled by the consuls, and the "converts" know full well how to make use of it. No one who has not lived in the Turkish dominions can imagine the power which an European consul or vice-consul has in those countries. Mr. Urquhart has done good service in exposing this evil, which is, in point of fact, one of the chief reasons why the Ottoman Empire has been gradually but surely verging toward ruin since the foreign consular power became virtually far greater than that of the local authority. Of this interference of one country in the affairs of another, Mr. Urquhart says, it presents "a terrible prospect for the human race; for it involves the extinction of each people, and the absorption ultimately of the whole in some one government more dexterous than the rest." All the chief governments of Europe have been more or less guilty of this meddling with the executive of Turkey, but notably England, France, and Russia, in whose hands every local pasha is a plaything, to be tossed here and there at will. England says—or, rather, each English consul says for her—that he most interfere, else French influence would be too powerful in the province or district. France returns the compliment, and declares that England—that is, the English consul—is such a deep diplomat that, unless she uses her influence, England would be paramount in the place. Russia, on the other hand, declares that she must maintain herprestige, else the Turks would say of their old enemy that she had fallen in the scale of nations. This interference in the administration of the Ottoman empire is thus described by Mr. Urquhart:
"In other countries it has been known as diplomatic representations made in regard to principles; here (that is, in Turkey) it is administrative. It bears upon the taxes, the customs, the limitation of districts, the administrative functions, the parish business, the selection and displacement of functionaries, the operations of the courts of law—whatever is included under the word 'government' belongs here to 'interference.' This operation is exercised with authority, without control, without responsibility. The discussions in reference thereto are carried on between the functionaries of a foreign government; and as that foreign government can enter upon the field only by an act of usurpation, its position is that of an enemy. Every act is directed to subvert and to disturb; the object of each individual is of necessity to supersede the legitimate authority of the native functionary with whom he is in contact."Thus it is that the administrative interference, which has in Syria replaced the diplomatic, is carried on through consuls." (Vol ii. pp. 349, 360.)
Hitherto this work of "interference" has been carried on by our English consuls in Syria in very much the same way as it has by their Russian and French colleagues, no better, but no worse. At any rate, in all matters of influencing religious affairs, directly or indirectly, they have held perfectly aloof. But if we are to judge from a document lately put forth by the Turkish Missions-Aid Society, the title of which stands at the end of the list of books and pamphlets that heads this paper, either an entire change has in this respect come over our policy, or else several of our Anglo-Syrian official must be acting in direct disobedience{354}of the wishes of the Foreign office. We allude to an appeal for the building of "A SYRIAN PROTESTANT COLLEGE," together with a prospectus of the same, and a list of the "Local Board of Managers," among which, to their shame be it said, appear the names of Mr. Geo. J. Eldridge, her majesty's consul-general in Syria; Mr. W. H. Wrench, her majesty's vice-consul at Beyrout; Mr. Noel Temple Moore, her majesty's consul at Jerusalem; and Mr. E. T. Rogers, her majesty's consul at Damascus. That there can be no real desire or want for such an institution in the country, and that the very appeal for help to found it is about the most outrageous piece of pious impudence that has ever been published, even in the name of sectarian so-called religion, will appear upon a further examination of this document. We will do the American missionaries the justice of saying that no Englishman would, or could, ever have had thetoupéto ask for money for such a purpose; the whole document bears the unmistakable impress of "smart" New-England. As we have shown before, from the "summary" of American Missions Statement given elsewhere, copied from the report of the Turkish Missions-Aid Society, the number of Protestant "church members" on the Syrian field is two hundred; this, too, after nearly thirty years of missionary "labor" in the country. And now these same missionaries come forward and modestly tell us that "more than £20,000 have already been secured and invested in the United States" for the building of this proposed "institution," and that "it is proposed to raise an equal amount in England, the income annually going to the support of the College." The president of the proposed college, andex-officiopresident of the board of managers, is an American missionary, the Reverend Dr. Bliss, and among the members of the board are the names of some thirteen or fourteen other missionaries of all sorts. The trustees, who "are to have the general supervision of the institution," reside in New York, where we should imagine they will be able, from their proximity to the college in Syria, to supervise the whole affairs exceedingly well. With these, or with such persons as have parted with their money for such a pious folly, we have nothing to do. But as regards the English officials, it is another matter and Protestants, as well as Catholics must agree that men holding the positions they do in a country where religious discord is the bane and curse of the land, have no business to mix themselves up with an undertaking which is purely and wholly got up for the purpose of proselytism. Had the subscription been to build a Protestant chapel or church, or to endow any such establishment for the use of the English residents in Syria, it would have been a very different matter. To lend their names to any such undertaking these gentlemen would you a perfect right; but to give their official sanction to a scheme which is but a renewed campaign on the religion of the country, and as English government officers to say that they—and consequently the government they represent—approved as consul-general and consuls of a wholesale sectarian converting shop, is nothing less than a prostitution of the name of this country in Syria. The "dodge" is a good one; the American missionaries, notwithstanding their "tall" pious talk in missionary newspapers, have actually done nothing toward perverting the native Christians of Syria. Two hundred "church members" in nearly thirty years is at the rate of seven converts a year less than the third of a convert every twelve months for each the twenty-four missionaries. This pay. Even American subscribing "Christians" will, after a time, cease to contribute for what brings forth so little fruit. Something must be done; and therefore they have started the idea of this "Syrian Protestant college," having got the promises of these{355}consular gentlemen to countenance it as they have done.
Did these proselytizing consuls, before they allowed their names to be made use of in this prospectus, read the third paragraph of the document, in which we are coolly told that "THE ENEMIES OF CHRISTIANITY, PROFESSED INFIDELS AS WELL AS PAPISTS, FULLY ALIVE TO THE ADVANTAGES TO BE GAINED FROM THE PRESENT STATE OF THE COUNTRY, ARE ADOPTING BOLD AND ENERGETIC MEASURES TO FORESTALL PROTESTANTISM IN BECOMING THE EDUCATORS OF THIS VAST POPULATION"?
Or, if theydidread it, did it not strike them that there was an insolence, as well as an amount of sickening cant and implied falsehood, throughout these words which ought to have prevented them, asEnglish gentlemen,to say nothing of their official character, from countenancing such a concern? Have English consuls in Eastern lands so far lost whatever teaching they may have had as to forget that, taking all her majesty's subjects throughout the world, the "Papists" are very nearly as numerous as the Protestants; and that to class them "infidels," and call them "the enemies of Christianity," is an insult—to say nothing of the loud vulgarity and the utter untruth of the assertion, which there can be no excuse for any English gentleman, far less any English official, to lend his name to? In this, every person with the slightest pretension to the name of gentleman or an educated man, no matter what may be his religious persuasion, must agree with us. And to talk of "Syrian Protestantism," with its two hundred "church members" amidst a population of half a million native Christians, and three times that number of Moslems, being "forestalled" in "becoming the educators of this vast population," is much as if the Mormons in London were to complain that the English Church was "forestalling" them in being the educators of the capital of England. The Latter-day Saints of the metropolis bear a much larger and not at all less respectable proportion to the rest of the population of London, than the Protestant "converts" of Syria do to the rest of their fellow-countrymen.
Three excuses may be put forth in defence of these consular gentlemen who have thus disgraced the country they serve. It may be asserted—1st, That if French, Russian, and Austrian consuls give official protection to Catholic and Greek religious establishments, it is quite lawful for English authorities to do the same to Protestant undertakings. 2dly, That "the Syrian Protestant college" is to be got up for literature, the sciences, jurisprudence, and medicine, and not for religious purposes. And, 3dly, That they have allowed their names to be made use of without reading over the prospectus. Of these the third and last excuse is the only one that will hold water for an instant; and for their sakes we hope it may be true, poor and lame as such a plea would be for official men. As regards the first of these pleas, which we have put into the mouths of the defendants, it is quite true that the French, Russian, and Austrian consuls have and do afford official protection to Catholic and Greek religious establishments, but the cases are by no means parallel.
To quote again the words of Mr. Urquhart:—"The Roman Catholic regular and secular clergy are established here (in Syria) as in any other Roman Catholic countries; [Footnote 112] that is to say, they are pastors of flocks, and not missionaries. The Protestants have no flocks, and they are sent with a view of creating them."
[Footnote 112: The same may be said of the Greek clergy, who have many and very large congregations—in the country—in some parts much more numerous than the Maronites or other Catholic churches.]
We wonder what this writer would have said could he have seen a "Syrian Protestant college" proposed as a means toward this much-desired end, or could he have foreseen that four{356}English consuls could ever have went their names—officially, too—to such a combination of Little Bethel and "smart" American doings. Nor will it suffice to say that this institution is not being got on foot for the express purpose of proselytism, more or less direct. In paragraph number eight we are told that—
"The college will be conducted on strictly protestant and evangelical principles."
Whatthatmeans, we all know; also—
"It will be open for students from any of the Oriental sects or nationalities who will conform to its laws and regulations."
That is to say, any student belonging to the Latin, [Footnote 113] Maronite, Greek Schismatical, Greek Catholic, Armenian Catholic, Armenian Schismatical, or other Eastern church, will be admitted to this college, provided he attends "Protestant" and "evangelical" preachings and prayers, and is humble-minded enough to hear the faith of his fathers denounced every day as one line of "the enemies Christianity," and "Papists" lovingly asked with "professed infidels." And in the very next sentence we are further informed that—
[Footnote 113: In the East, European Catholics, and all others who use the European or Roman Ritual, are called "Latins;" while the other Oriental churches in communion with the See of Peter are distinguished by their respective names—Maronites, Greek Catholics, Armenian Catholics, Syrian Catholics, Chaldeans, and others. The whole are termed "Catholics," and there is nothing of which they are so proud as their intercourse with Rome and the centre of unity. Of the various schismatical and heretical sects, there is not one that assumes the name of "Catholic" except certain of the "advanced" school English Established Church.]
"It is hoped that a strong Christian influence will always centre in and go forth from this institution; and that it will be instrumental in raising up a body of men who will fill the ranks of a well-trained and vigorous 'native ministry;' become the authors of a native Christian literature; supply the educational wants of the land; encourage its industrial interests; develop its resources; occupy stations of authority, and in a large degree aid in carrying the Gospel and its attendant blessings wherever the Arabic language is spoken."
With the help of one English consul-general, two English consuls, and one English vice-consul, this may be in a certain measure be done: yes, andwillbe done; for consular influence in those lands is all powerful. But without it, no: without this English state-help the "Syrian Protestant college" will wither, and only bear fruit in such proportion as have done the "Protectant churches" in Syria, with their twenty-four missionaries, their thirty-seven native assistants, and their two hundred communicants, after nearly thirty years labor in the Syrian "field."
After the extracts we have given from the prospectus, can there be any doubt as to the proselytizing intentions of this American-Syrian-Protestant-evangelical institution? or can there be two opinions as to the propriety of English gentlemen and English officials degrading themselves and their office by becoming connected with such an undertaking? We observe, by the way, as a curious coincidence in the prospectus, that the name of the New-York Treasurer to the board of trustees of this proposed college is William E. Dodge; and that the Rev. D. Stuart Dodge, of New York, has been appointed one of the professors. Would it not have been better and more appropriate if her majesty's consuls at Beyrout, Damascus, and Jerusalem had left all this evangelical speculation to men of like name and calling? It is true that when the prospectus was drawn out, and these English officials allowed their name to be made use of, Lord Palmerston was prime minister, and Lord Russell ruled over the foreign office. That the Shaftesbury power with the first, and the well-known tendencies of the author of the Durham letter, may have had some influence with these individuals in their official character is possible, nay, probable; but should gentlemen, English gentlemen, ever have allowed their names to go forth as patrons and directors of this unholy humbug? A private individual may lend his influence to whatever scheme he likes to patronize; but a public servant and above all an English public servant in Turkey—has no right whatever to be so liberal with his patronage.
{357}
One word more ere we have done with the "Syrian Protestant college."
At the head of the list of subscribers to this proposed institution is £1,000 from "The late Syrian asylums' committee." If we are rightly informed, that money was subscribed from the residue of a fund which was instituted in 1860 to afford assistance to the sufferers from the Syrian massacres. To this fund Catholics, Protestants, Greeks, and Jews subscribed, with the express stipulation and understanding that no part or portion of it was to be used for any religious purpose whatever. The fact was, that the chief managers of the fund in Syria were American missionaries, and subscribers to it were afraid that the money would be used for proselytizing purposes. After a time the great misery of the Syrian Christians came to an end, and no further relief was required: but there still remained an unused balance of about £1,200 of this fund in the banker's hands. If what is reported in London be correct—and we have very good reason for believing it to be so—who was it that gave authority for this £1,000 to be given as a donation to the Syrian Protestant college? To question regards not only the Catholics, Greeks, and Jews of London, Manchester, Liverpool, and other towns in England that subscribed to this fund, but also those belonging to a large—and we are thankful to say a very large—class of our Protestant fellow-countrymen, who, however much they may differ from us in matters of faith, are enemies to religion being made a cloak for fraud, and are honest and honorable in their dealings between man and man. If this £1,000 which heads the list of subscriptions in the Syrian Protestant college was really given from the money which in 1860-61 was gathered together as "the Syrian relief fund," a gross and most infamous breach of trust has been committed, and all men should beware how they in future contribute to anything in which the American Oriental missionaries have any influence.
But where have the projectors of this college learned geography? They tell us that the establishment will be "LOCATED IN BEYROUT, the seaport of Syria, a city rapidly growing in size and importance, and OCCUPYING A CENTRAL POSITION IN RESPECT TO ALL THE ARABIC-SPEAKING RACES."
The capitals are our own, for we would note these words as bringing a new light in geographical discovery. That Beyrout is by far the most pleasant, nay the only pleasant, town in Syria to reside in—that there is more society, and particularly what the promoters of this undertaking would call more "Christian" society, we fully admit. That, on account of its proximity to the sea, it is far more healthy than most towns in Syria, and that from the number of its European and native Christian inhabitants it is far safer to reside in, and much more exempt from the chance of any Moslem outbreak taking place, cannot be denied. But that it occupies "a central position in respect to all the Arabic-speaking races," is simply, and very grossly untrue, as a glance at any school-boy's atlas would show. It would be about as correct to assert that Plymouth or Falmouth held "a central position in respect to" the rest of England. If the promoters of "The Syrian Protestant college" are so very anxious to diffuse the great blessings of their faith and literature "wherever the Arabic language is spoken," would not Damascus, Mosul, Aleppo, Antioch, or even Bagdad, be more central than Beyrout? To reside in any of these places would not be so pleasant, but it would be more missionary-like, and would certainly save the money of the subscribers, Beyrout being by far the most expensive town in all Syria to live in.
But men of American sectarian preacher stamp never knew and never will know what a missionary spirit is. It is foreign to their habits as well as to their creed. When we hear of{358}American Protestant missionaries going forth with barely a change of clothes; when we learn that they abandon father, mother, family, house and home to preach the Gospel; when we read of half a score of them undergoing martyrdom, as did two Catholic bishops and eight priests in Corea, an account of which was published in the Times of the 27th August last—when, in fine, we hear of their taking lessons in their work from the Jesuits, the Lazarists, the Capuchins, the Dominicans, or any other of those religious orders which have shed such lustre upon the church in all ages—it may then become a matter of discussion whether, notwithstanding their gross errors in faith, they have not something of the missionary spirit among them. At present we can only look upon them as do all the Moslems, the native Christians, the Jews, and nineteen-twentieths of the European population in the East, namely, that they drive a very flourishing trade, and enjoy very comfortable incomes: but that the work they are paid for doing has neither the self-denial of man nor the blessing of God to make it prosper. Protestant missions throughout the world have ever been, are, and ever will be, most miserable failures. Dr. Littledale was, at any rate, candid when he spoke of "the pitiful history of Anglican missions to the heathen;" but he might with equal truth make mention of the wretched results of Protestant missions throughout the world. That unison of mawkish sentiment and Biblical phrases selected at random, which commonly goes by the name of "cant," may certainly influence weak-minded persons to subscribe to visionary schemes of a Protestant conversion of Oriental Christians. But exposure must come sooner or later, and with it the beginning of the end of subscriptions. Some years ago the American missionaries gave up the "field" they occupied at Jerusalem; would it not be as well if they conferred a similar boon on the Syrian and Lebanon districts? The churches against which they are chiefly engaged in preaching have their own bishops, their own clergy, and their own missionary preachers from Europe. These latter are not engaged in perverting men from another quarter, but—at the request, and with the full concurrence of the native bishops and clergy—they build up and repair the breaches in the sheep-fold, and help in driving away the wolves that would enter. There may be—there are—sheep that go astray from time to time, but considering all things—and particularly now that the sectarian influence of English consuls in Syria has been brought to bear on the "work"—these are few indeed. The Maronites and other sects in communion with St. Peter's successor, form part and parcel of God's one only true and holy Catholic Church, against which, we have His word, the gates of hell shall never prevail. [Footnote 114]
[Footnote 114: The fact of four English consuls allowing their names to go forth as patrons of a Protestant College, which is to be got up for the perversion of native Christians, is so utterly at variance with the general practice of our government, that we must express our surprise it has been overlooked at the Foreign Office. We cannot imagine Lord Stanley lending even a tacit sanction to such an outrage of the feelings of the native Syrian Christians.]
In his work upon "Mount Lebanon," from which we have already quoted, Mr. Urquhart relates a conversation which he had with a certain Maronite bishop, which seems soaproposthat we give it entire:—
"I wish you to know [said the bishop] that we are not attached to France. France is to us on oppression from which we would be most happy to escape; we have proved this by acts, but no account is taken of them. How France came to be considered our protector is an old story, into which it is needless to enter. The connection awakened against us the hatred of the Turks and of the Greeks, and to it may be attributed the past suffering of our people from both. Here and in the other parts of Syria, in Egypt and in Cyprus, from the middle of the last century to the close of the campaign of Napoleon, we reckon that the blood of 40,000 Maronites has been shed by the Turks or the Greeks. This is the debt we owe to French protection. When, in 1840, the French government sent to us to require us to support Ibrahim Pasha and Emir Beshir, we gave a flat refusal.{359}M. —— came to Saida, and sent a message to the Patriarch (of the house of Habesh), who sent his own secretary to give him the answer, which had been decided on by the bishops and chiefs, which was, 'The Maronites have heard much of, but have never seen, the fruit of the protection of France, and could not, in the hope of it, expose themselves to the risks they were now required to run.' Then the English government sent to us an agent (Mr. Wood), accompanied by M. Stendel, on the part of the Austrian government, proposing to us to accept the protection of Austria in lieu of that of France. We declined to make any application for such protection;and we complained to Mr. Wood of the interference in our religion of the Protestant missionaries which made us look with suspicion on the intentions toward us of the English government. He assured us that the English government was opposed to all missionary schemes, and suggested that we should draw up a petition to the Turkish government, requesting the missionaries to be prohibited from entering the country, promising that the English ambassador would obtain from the Porte an order to that effect. Satisfied with these assurances, we aided in the expulsion of Mehemet Ali, although he had every way favored the Maronites."The promised order respecting the missionaries never came, England set up a Protestant bishop (in Jerusalem), and obtained from the Porte the formal recognition of the Protestants as a body."(Vol. ii pp. 261, 262.)
The italics in this quotation are our own. They show pretty plainly whether or not the missionaries are welcome to the natives of Syria. But what will these same natives say now, when they see our consuls-general and consuls coming forth as the official patrons and promoters of Protestant missionary proselytism? If it be true—and we have certainly always looked upon it as one of the rules of our government—that the English government "is opposed to all missionary schemes," how is it that the consul-general in Syria, the consul at Jerusalem, and the consul at Damascus, are allowed to take upon themselves the office of "managers" or "local directors" of the Protestant Syrian college?
There is a darkness which is still not gloom,And thou, poor child, whose young but sightless eyesCatch no glad radiance from the summer skies—Worse, still, neglected in thy blindness, whomThose nurtured like thee in the self-same wombHave cast on strangers, strangers truly wise,Since more than waif of gold such charge they prize—Hast found a joy what others find a doom.Thou knowest the way unto the chapel door,And, kneeling softly on its blessed floor.Thou art no longer blind; thePresencethereReveals itself to thy adoring prayer;Hours fly with thee that altar's Guest before,Till, cowards, we envy what we would not share.
{360}
How shall we tell in a few words the story of one whose career extended over sixty-six years? Our heroine's name calls up a picture of the most brilliant period in French history. A thousand images arise of pageantry, of genuine magnificence, of jewelled and gilded wretchedness. Life seemed like a great magic lantern exhibited for her private amusement; scene after scene passed before her eyes with a pomp unknown in these days of tinsel splendor; but most welcome of all, ever returning, never palling, was the slide that presented to her view La Grande Mademoiselle, the contemplated bride of half the sovereigns in Europe.
Anne Marie Louise d'Orléans was born in the palace of the Louvre, May 29th, 1627. Fairies met her on the threshold of the world and endowed her with all earthly goods—boundless wealth, a cheerful temper, keen wit, excellent health, and a fair share of beauty. Was it a kindly or a spiteful fairy who crowned these gifts with a vanity that nothing could undermine or overthrow? This self-love afforded the only unfailing enjoyment of her long life; but as it made her throw aside as unworthy of her every scheme of happiness suited to her rank, and carve out a destiny for herself in defiance of all authority, the fairies must decide the question, not we.
"The misfortunes of my house," she says, "began soon after my birth, for it was followed by the death of my mother, which greatly diminished the good fortune that the rank I hold would have led me to expect. The great wealth which my mother left, and of which I am sole heiress, might well, in the opinion of most people have consoled me for losing her. But to me, who feel now of what advantage her superintendence of my education would have been to me, and her credit in my establishment, added to her tenderness, it seems impossible sufficiently to regret her death."
This passage from her "Mémoires" exhibits several of Mademoiselle's peculiarities: a certain blunt, abrupt mode of expressing her exact meaning, an egotism that makes her lose or gain a test of the importance of events, and a right-minded honesty which saved her from the worst errors of her time.
No unmarried daughter of France had ever enjoyed so magnificent an establishment as was now accorded to the heiress of the house of Montpensier. The Tuileries, where she lodged, being connected by a gallery with the Louvre, the little motherless child was under the supervision of Louis XIII. and Anne of Austria, as well as of Marie de Medicis, who expended more tenderness upon this grand-daughter than she had ever on her own children. Mademoiselle regarded her royal grandmother with great partiality. She used to say when the Duchess of Guise was quoted: "She is only a distant grandmother, she is not queen."
Marie de Medicis left France in disgrace in 1633, followed by Monsieur, whose career was a series of petty intrigues, from which he invariably emerged unscathed, leaving his accomplices to bear the consequences of their folly. Very different was the spirit of his daughter. At six years old she was taken to see the degradation of Duc d'Elbôeuf and Marquis de{361}la Vienville from the order. On being told that their disgrace was owing to devotion to her father, she wept bitterly, and wished to retire, saying that she could not with propriety witness the ceremony. Ten years later Monsieur supped with her, enlivened by the music of the twenty-four royal violins. She writes: "He was as gay as if MM. de Cinq Mars and de Thou had not been left behind on the road. I confess I could not look at him without thinking of them, and amid my own joy the sight of his contentment pained me." Is not a certain reverence due to this generous daughter of a mean-spirited intriguer, and to one who, with untrammelled liberty, remained virtuous in the court of Louis XIV.? That her unspotted character was not the result of coldness, is proved by her foolish devotion to Lauzun. If pride was her safeguard, at least some human praise should be given to so high an estimate of royal greatness.
The king and queen were untiring in tender attentions to Mademoiselle. She writes: "I was so accustomed to their caresses, that I called the kingpetit papa, and the queenpetit mama, really believing her to be so, because I had never seen my own mother." After enumerating the various little girls of quality who came to play with her, she adds: "I was never so occupied with any game as to be inattentive if a reconciliation with Monsieur was mentioned. Cardinal Richelieu, who was prime minister and master of affairs, was determined to control this matter; and with proposals so degrading to Monsieur that I could not listen to them without despair. He said that to make Monsieur's peace with the king, his engagement to Princess Marguerite de Lorraine must be broken, that he might marry Mademoiselle de Combalet, the cardinal's niece, now Madame d'Aiguillon. I could not help crying when it was mentioned to me, and in my anger sang, in revenge, all the songs I knew against the cardinal and his niece. It even redoubled my friendship for Princess Marguerite, and made me talk of her incessantly."
Gaston d'Orleans returned to France October 8th, 1634, and his daughter went to Limours to receive him. Wishing to test her filial memory, for he had left her at the age of four or five years, he appeared before her without thecordon bleuwhich distinguished him from the members of his suite. "Which of these gentlemen is Monsieur?" she was asked, and without hesitation sprung to her father's arms; a proof of fidelity which touched him deeply, that being of all qualities the one most likely to excite his surprise. Nothing was spared for her amusement, even to the gratification of her desire to dance in aballet. A band of little girls of high rank was composed, with a selection of lords of corresponding stature. The magnificent dresses and appointments satisfied even Mademoiselle's ambition. In one figure birds were introduced in cages, and set free in the dancing room. One unlucky songster became entangled in the dress trimmings of Mademoiselle de Brézé, Cardinal Richelieu's niece, who began to cry and scream so vehemently as to introduce a new element of amusement among the assembly. The accident recalls a similar one which occurred at the time of this lady's marriage with the Duc d'Enghien, afterward the great Condé. There was a ball afterward, where Mademoiselle de Brézé, who was very small, fell down while dancing acourante, because, in order to make her look tall, they had put such high-heeled shoes upon her feet that she could not walk. Clearly her sphere of success was not destined to be the ball-room. Poor little soul! she played doll for more than two years after her marriage, and was sent to a Carmelite convent to learn to read and write during her husband's absence in Roussillon with the king.
Mademoiselle gives a graphic account of a journey which she took in 1637. The events recalled, with the{362}emotions they excited in her at the time, show an acuteness of perception far beyond that of most children of ten years old. Her sentiments are too virtuous not to demand a brief notice. "Arrived at Champigny, I went first to the Holy Chapel, as a place to which the memory of my predecessors, who had built and founded it, seemed to summon me, that I might pray to God for the repose of their souls." A little later we hear of her at the Convent of Fontevrault. The abbess was a natural daughter of Henri IV., and the nuns lavished every attention upon their guest, delighting to honor her with the title of "Madame's niece." Their devotion bored our princess greatly, and would have made her ill but for a grain of amusement to be derived from the simplicity of the poor ladies. But fortune, Mademoiselle's unfailing friend, soon relieved her from this monotony. Two ladies-in-waiting, Beaumont and Saint-Louis, instead of going into the church, explored the convent court-yards. Terrible cries attracted their notice, and were found to proceed from a poor maniac, confined in a dungeon, according to the ill-judged practice of those days. After amusing themselves with her extravagances, they went to find their little mistress, that she might share the enjoyment. "I broke off a conversation with the abbess and betook myself in all haste to the dungeon, which I did not leave until supper-time. The table was wretched, and for fear of suffering the same treatment the next day, I begged my aunt to let my officers prepare my meals elsewhere. She made use of them after that day, so that we fared better during the rest of our visit. Madame de Fontevrault treated me the next day to a second maniac. As there was not a third, ennui seized upon me, and I went away in spite of my aunt's entreaties." And this was the child who, at five years old, wept over the degradation of two of her father's followers. Through life, her best impulses seem to have had root rather in a sense of her own dignity than in compassion for others.
More easily understood is her enjoyment of the royal hunts, during the days of Louis XIII.'s attachment to the virtuous Madame de Hautefort. "We were all dressed in colors, mounted upon hackneys richly comparisoned, and each lady protected from the sun's rays by a hat covered with plumes. The chase led past several handsome houses, where grand collations were prepared for us, and on our return the king sat in my coach between Madame de Hautefort and me. When in a good humor, he entertained us very pleasantly with many topics. At such times he allowed us to speak freely of Cardinal Richelieu, and proved himself not displeased by joining in the conversation."
His eminence was destined to fall more deeply than ever into disgrace with Mademoiselle in 1638. The dauphin was born at the château of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, September 5th of that year; and his cousin, who, like any other little girl, enjoyed being in the royal nursery, used to call him "her little husband." This amused the king exceedingly, but Cardinal Richelieu viewed the matter more seriously. Mademoiselle was sent home to Paris. On the way, she was taken to Ruel to see the minister, and there received a grave reprimand for the indiscretion of her language. "He said I was too old to use such terms; that it was unbecoming in me to speak thus. He said so seriously to me things that might have been addressed to a reasonable person, that, without answering a word, I began to cry; to comfort me, he gave me a collation. None the less did I go away very angry at his words."
If this rebuke had made a deeper impression upon Louise de Bourbon, her biographer's task would be a more grateful one. The naïveté with which she reveals all her matrimonial castles in the air would be incomprehensible if these schemes had not been purely ambitious; as free{363}from sentiment as a military stratagem or a commercial speculation.
At fifteen Mademoiselle met with a great loss in the death of her excellentgouvernante, the Marchioness of Saint-Georges. She speaks of this trial with more tenderness and less egotism than one might have anticipated. "I learned, on awaking in the morning, how ill she was, and rose in haste that I might go to her and show by various attentions my gratitude for her noble performance of her duties toward me ever since I came into the world. I arrived while they were applying every possible remedy to revive her, in which they succeeded after repeated efforts. The viaticum and extreme unction were brought, and she received them with every evidence of a truly Christian soul. She responded with admirable devotion to each prayer: no subject of surprise to those who knew bow piously she had lived. This over, she called her children to her, that she might bless them, and asked permission to give me, also, her benediction, saying that the honor she had enjoyed of being with me from my birth made her venture to take the liberty. I felt a tenderness for her corresponding to all that she had shown toward me in the care of my education. I knelt beside her bed, with eyes bathed in tears; I received her sad farewell and kissed her. I was so touched by the thought of losing her, and by the infinite number of good things she had said to me, that I did not wish to leave the room until her death. She begged that I might be taken away, and her children too; she was too much agitated by our cries and tears,and testified that I alone was the subject of any regrets the was capable of feeling. I had hardly returned to my own room when the agony began, and she died in fifteen minutes."
Mademoiselle retired to the Carmelite convent of Saint Denis, until Monsieur should select another governess. She requested that the place might be given either to Mademoiselle de Fieique or Mademoiselle de Tillières (both "persons of quality, merit, and virtue, and relations of her own"), hoping earnestly that the choice might fall upon Mademoiselle de Tillières. Her wishes were thwarted, and the Countess de Fiesque entered upon the task with Spartan firmness. An illness of six months' duration vanished miraculously when the news of her appointment was announced, we are told with sarcastic emphasis.
Whether governess or pupil suffered most in this connection, it would be hard to say. Mademoiselle de Fiesque had an aggravating system of petty supervision, and Mademoiselle a fixed determination to elude it. On one occasion when our princess had been shut up in her room by the tyrant's orders, she managed to escape, stole the key of Mademoiselle de Fiesque's private apartment, and locked her in. "She was hours in uneasiness before a locksmith could be found; and her discomfort was all the greater because I had shut up her grandson in another room, and he screamed as if I had maltreated him."
But we should soon tire of these reminiscences, did they not bring upon the stage personages more important than Mademoiselle herself—hard as it would have been for her to think so.
In 1643 we find thedramatis personaemuch changed and extended. Louis XIII. has passed away, making so good an end, that we wonder at the grace of God to see how noble a death may close an insignificant career. Richelieu has been succeeded in Mademoiselle's ill graces by Cardinal Mazarin. Louis XIV. is a precocious, ignorant child of nine years old. The cabal of theImportanteshas arisen and declined, and two seditions in Paris, founded upon slight provocation, have proved the populace ripe for the Fronde. Henrietta Maria and her children are refugees at the French court, and Mademoiselle, with her enormous possessions, is considered an eligible match for the Prince of Wales. As Charles Stuart in the character of an unsuccessful suitor is a novel topic, no{364}apology is needed for introducing at some length the history of his courtship.
The court was at Fontainebleau when his royal highness arrived in France; and their majesties went to meet him in the forest. His mother presented him first to the king and then to the queen, who kissed him, after which he bowed to the Princess of Condé, and to his cousin. "He was only sixteen or seventeen years old; quite tall for his age, with a fine head, black hair, brown complexion, and quite a good figure." One unpardonable sin he had in Mademoiselle's eyes; that, not speaking French in the least, he could not shine in society. Clever talk she enjoyed keenly even in childhood, Monsieur's brilliant conversation had fascinated her.
The Prince of Wales worked diligently to produce an impression upon his cousin's flinty heart, which (shall we confess it?) was wasting itself away in an unrequited attachment for the imperial throne. Many a suitable match did Mademoiselle reject, because the untimely death of two empresses kept her in a fever of hope and expectation. In vain was it represented that the emperor was old enough to be her father; that she would be happier in England or Savoy. She replied disinterestedly that "she wished the emperor, . . . that he was not a young and gallant man; which proved that in good truth she thought more of the establishment than of the person." In vain did Charles Stuart follow her about bareheaded, ministering mutely to her love of importance. In vain did he hold the flambeau this side and that, while the Queen of England dressed her for Mademoiselle de Choisy's ball. Hispetite oré, as they called the dainty appointments of a gentleman's dress in those days, were red, black, and white, because Mademoiselle's plume and the ribbons fastening her jewels were red, black, and white. He made himself torchbearer again while she arranged her dress before entering the ball-room; followed her every step, lingered about her hotel until the door closed behind her: all in vain, because at nineteen our heroine had the discretion to prefer a middle-aged emperor, firmly seated on his throne, to an exiled prince of seventeen.
His gallantry was so openly exhibited as to excite much remark. It lasted all winter, appearing in full force at a celebrated entertainment given at the Palais Royal toward the close of the season. Anne of Austria herself arrayed her niece upon this location, and three whole days were devoted to preparing her costume. The dress was covered with diamonds, and red, black, and white tufts; and she wore all the crown jewels of France, with the few that still belonged to the Queen of England. "Nothing could have been more magnificent than my dress that day," she assures us; "and there were not wanting those who asserted that my fine presence, fair complexion, and dazzling blonde hair adorned me more than all the jewels that glittered on my person."' Mademoiselle does not exaggerate her charms. Though not strictly handsome, her noble bearing and charming coloring produced all the effect of beauty.
The dancing took place in a large theatre, illuminated with flambeaux, and at one end stood a thrown upon a daïs, which was the scene of Mademoiselle's triumphs. "The king and the Prince of Wales did care to occupy the throne; I remained there alone; and saw at my feet these two princes and all the princesses of the court circle. I was not in the least ill at ease in this position, and those who had flattered me on entering the ballroom found matter the next day for fresh adulation. Every one I had never appeared less constrained than when seated on that throne;" and the imperial hopes being at their height, she adds: "While I stood there with the prince at my feet, my heart as well as my eyes regarded himdu haut en bas. . . The thought of the empire occupied my mind so exclusively, that{365}I looked upon the Prince of Wales only as an object of pity."
The conclusion of this romance belongs really to the interval between the first and second Fronde, but we insert it here for the sake of convenience, pleading guilty of the anachronism. In 1649 we find Mademoiselle again persecuted to marry her cousin, then Charles II. "L'Abbé de la Rivière said that I was right, but that it must be remembered that there was no other match for me in Europe; that the emperor and King of Spain were married; the King of Hungary was betrothed to the Infanta of Spain; the archduke would never be sovereign of the Low Countries; that I would not hear of any German or Italian sovereign; that In France the king and Monsieur (d'Anjou) were too young to marry; and that M. la Prince (Condé) had been married ten years andhis wife was in good health."
A courier was sent to their majesties to announce the King of England's arrival at Péronne, and the count went forward to meet him at Compiègne. Mademoiselle had her hair curled for the occasion, and was bantered by the regent gently upon the pains she had taken to please her suitor. "Those who have had admirers themselves understand such things," replied her royal highness tartly, referring to the foibles of her majesty's youth.
The royal personages met within a league of Compiègne and alighted from the carriages. Charles saluted their majesties, and then Mademoiselle. "I thought him much improved in appearance since he left France. If his wit had seemed to correspond to his person, he might perhaps have pleased me; but when the king questioned him in the carriage concerning the dogs and horses of the Prince of Orange and the hunting in that country he replied in French. The queen spoke to him of his own affairs, and he made no reply; and being questioned several times about grave matters which greatly concerned himself, he declined answering on the plea of not being able to speak our language.
"I confess that from that moment I resolved not to consent to this marriage, having conceived a very poor opinion of a king who at his age could be so ignorant of his affairs. Not that I could not recognize my own blood by the sign, for the Bourbons are beings greatly devoted to trifles and not much to solid matters; perhaps myself as well as the rest, being Bourbon on both sides of the house. Soon after we arrived, dinner was served. He eat no ortolans, and threw himself upon a huge piece of beef and a shoulder of mutton, as if there had been nothing else on the table. His taste did not seem to me very delicate, and I felt ashamed that he should show so much less in this, than he had displayed in thinking of me. After dinner the queen aroused herself and left me with him: he sat there a quarter of an hour without uttering a syllable: I should like to believe that his silence proceeded from respect rather than from absence of passion. I confess frankly that in this interview I wished he would show less (respect). Feeling rather bored, I called M. de Comminges to be third party and make him speak; in which he fortunately succeeded. M. de la Rivière said to me: 'He looked at you all dinner time, and is still looking at you incessantly.' I answered, 'He will look a long time without attracting me if he does not speak.' He replied, 'Ah! you are concealing the charming things he has said to you.' 'Not at all,' said I. 'Come near me when he is devoting himself, and you will see how he sets about it.' The queen arose; I approached him, and, to make him speak, I asked after several persons of his suite whom I had seen; all which he answered, butpoint de douceurs. The time came for him to go; we all went in a carriage to escort him to the middle of the forest, where we alighted, as we had done on his arrival. He took leave of the king and came to me{366}with Germin (Lord Jermyn), saying: 'I believe that M. Germin, who speaks better than I do, has explained to you my wishes and intentions; I am your very obedient servant.' I replied that I was his very obedient servant, Germin made me a great many compliments, and then the king bowed and left me."
After the battle of Worcester, Charles II. reappeared in Paris and made a third trial for his cousin's hand. "I thought him very well made and decidedly more pleasing than before his departure, though his hair was short and his beard long, two things that change people very much. He spoke French very well." All went smoothly for some time: Mademoiselle received from her royal suitor all the douceurs for which she had formerly listened in vain; and frequent assemblies at her rooms made them very intimate. But her will was too vacillating to allow of her coming to any definite decision, and Charles was at length wearied into giving marked evidence of his displeasure. "The first time I saw the queen after my interview with Germin, she showered reproaches upon me. When her son entered (he had always been accustomed to take a seat in my presence), they brought forward a great chair in which he seated himself. I suppose he thought to make me very angry, but I did not care in the least." Indeed, it would have been an ingenious tormentor who had found a vulnerable spot in Mademoiselles vanity.
As Queen of England, Louise de Bourbon would have found room for the legitimate exercise of her best faculties. As an unmarried princess of immense wealth, she became the tool of men who did not scruple to use her courage, magnanimity, and energy for their own ends, and requite her generosity with neglect. Let us follow her adventures in the days of the second Fronde, and see to what exertions a love of bustle and notoriety could urge a princess accustomed to seek her own ease in all things.
The first Fronde took place in 1648, and was directed by the coadjutor archbishop of Paris, Monsieur M. de Retz, who acted under the influence of two motives: a desire to supplant Mazarin, and rule France himself; and an enthusiasm for constitutional liberty. Our space being limited, we will not pause to reconcile these two aspirations. The court left Paris by night for St. Germain. Mademoiselle accompanied the queen, and made herself useful as a medium of communication with the populace of Paris, who loved her for being a native of their city. She describe the royal destitution with graphic frivolity, and is exceedingly merry over this siege, in which the besiegers starved for want of the luxuries they had left behind them in the beleaguered city.
In the second Fronde, which broke out about two years later (1650-1652), the position of affairs is altered. M. de Retz appears in the character of mediator, and Mademoiselle casts her lot with the rebels. The princes of the house of Condé seize the opportunity to avenge insults offered to them by Mazarin, and Gaston d'Orleans joins the Frondeurs—perhaps in order to avoid the trouble of leaving Paris.
Skilful writers have left accounts so voluminous of those troubled times, that they rise before us rather in a series of living pictures than as historical records. That midnight conference in the oratory, between fair, queenly Anne of Austria and the little dark, misshapen coadjutor; Mazarin threatening Condé; and he, with curled lip and reverential mockery, leaving the ministerial presence with the words, "Farewell, Mars!"—the quelled populace, streaming hour after hour through the king's bedchamber, while his mother's beautiful hand holds back the velvet hangings, that each one may look upon the sleeping boy and know that he has not fled from Paris—all is before us as if it{367}happened yesterday. The chief actors with their talents and foibles are better known to us than to their contemporaries; and the French nation is today as it was then—ready to be won over by any clever bit of scenic effects.
Mademoiselle and Condé, who had hitherto been sworn foes, came to a formal reconciliation in 1651, and being bound together by their detestation of Mazarin, welcomed the outbreak of the second Fronde. Anne of Austria declined the company of her niece on leaving Paris, and she was thus left to the flattery of those who well understood the right use of her folly and her strength.
The golden moment of her career arrived. Orleans must be secured to the Frondeurs, or Condé, coming from Guyenne, would find the line of the Loire cut and the enemy master of the position. Monsieur was firm upon two points: that he would not leave Paris himself, and that his private troops should occupy the position best fitted to protect him if the royal army should attack Paris. His daughter, who had been longing for an opportunity to distinguish herself, offered to go to Orleans in place of the duke, and on Monday, March 25th, 1652, left Paris amid the benedictions of the people. A contemporary MS. journal says: "About noon Mademoiselle's carriages assembled in the court of the Orleans palace, ready for the campaign; she wore a gray habit covered with gold, to go to Orleans. She left at three o'clock, accompanied by the Duke de Rohan, Madame de Bréanté, Countess de Fiesque, and Madame de Frontenac." Monsieur sneered at the project, and said her chivalry would not be worth much without the common sense of Mesdames de Fiesque and Frontenac—hermaréchales de camp, as they were called between jest and earnest.
Upon the plains of Beauce the young amazon appeared before the troops on horseback, and was received with enthusiasm. "From that time," she says, "I began to give my orders;" and a little later at Toury, where she was joyfully welcomed by a crowd of officers: "they declared that a council of war must be held in my presence. . . . That I must accustom myself to listening to matters of business and war; for henceforth nothing would be done except by my orders."
Arrived before Orleans, Mademoiselle found closed gates and small disposition to grant admittance. The unfortunate city government, pressed on one side by Frondeurs and on the other by royalists, asked only leave to remain neutral. The rebel army had been left at some distance from Orleans for fear of alarming its inhabitants, andM. le gouverneur, learning that the attacking party was a lady, sent out a tribute of confectionery, "which seemed to me amusing," remarks Mademoiselle.
At last, tired of waiting upon the governors indecision, her royal highness went out with her ladies for a walk, much against the judgment of her advisers—or ministers, as she called them. The rampart was edged with people, who cried, on seeing her, "Long live the king and princes, and down with Mazarin!" And she answered, "Go to the Hotel de Ville and make them open the gates;" with other exhortations of the same kind, occasionally mingled with threats, "to see if menaces would move them more than friendship."
Now it so happened that before her departure from Paris, M. le Marquis do Vilaine, a noted astrologer, had drawn the princess into Madame's private room, and imparted to her the following prophecy: "All that you shall undertake between Wednesday noon, March 27th, and Friday will succeed; and you shall even at that time accomplish extraordinary things." This prediction was in her pocket, and anxiously as she disclaims all faith in it, we may believe that it encouraged her to make efforts which gave no apparent promise of success. When, toward evening, she stood outside the{368}Porte Brulée, did not M. de Vilaine's horoscope rise in her estimation? The river was crossed and the bank ascended by the aid of some chivalrous boatmen, an improvised bridge of boats, and a little more scrambling than would seem consistent with royal dignity. "I climbed like a cat, grasping at brambles and thorns, and springing over hedges without hurting myself in the least. * * Madame de Bréanté, who is the most cowardly creature in the world, began to cry out at me, and at every one who followed my steps; making great sport for me." Outside the gate, a group of bargemen worked under Mademoiselle's inspiriting direction; inside were citizens, urged on by the Count de Gramont, to tear down the planks; while the guards looked on in armed neutrality. When the two middle planks were torn off from the transverse iron bars, Gramont signed to the princess to come forward. "As there was a great deal of rubbish, a footman took me up and passed me through the hole, where no sooner did my head appear than they began to beat the drums. I gave my hand to the captain and said: 'You will be glad to be able to boast that you let me in.' Cries of 'Long live the king and princess, and down with Mazarin!' were redoubled. Two men took me and placed me in a wooden chair. I don't know whether I sat in the chair or on the arms, the rapture of my delight set me so completely beside myself. Every one kissed my hands, and I was ready to die with laughter to find myself in such a position." And so the city was taken, and Mademoiselle earned the title of Maid of Orleans, all in an afternoon's frolic. If she thought to retain command of Paris in a fashion so amusing, the battle of Porte Saint Antoine must have undeceived her.
The heroine was received with rapture on her return to Paris. She was assured by Condé that the wish of his heart was to see her queen of France, and that no treaty should be concluded without especial consideration for her. No one can be more uninteresting than her royal highness when elated by success, we must confess; but an hour of trial was approaching that should develop for the first and last time in her life, truly grand and heroic qualities. Until the 2d of July, 1652, Mademoiselle had given no signs of feminine feeling except by exhibiting those foibles which are popularly supposed to be especially characteristic of women. But on that day, as she hurried through the streets of Paris, carrying hope to every one she met—consoling poor Guitant, shot through the lungs, pausing to speak a word of comfort to the wretched Rochefoucauld, and putting new heart into the great Condé himself, we recognize sympathies worthy of a better development than they ever received. During a pause in the battle M. le Prince came to her in a pitiable condition, covered with dust and blood, his hair tangled and his cuirass dented with blows. Giving is naked sword to an equerry, he flung himself down upon a seat and burst into tears "Forgive my emotion," he exclaimed; "you see a desperate man before you. I have lost all my friends; Nemours, La Rochefoucauld and Clinchamp are mortally wounded."
Mademoiselle was able to assure him that these reports were greatly exaggerated, and Condé, restored to himself, sprang upon a fresh horse and galloped off to his post. The battle was at its height. Paris had simultaneously attacked at the Porte Saint-Denis and the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Inquiring the whereabouts of Turenne, M. le Prince rushed to the faubourg, knowing that where the marshal commanded there must Paris be most in peril. Soon came the tidings that the barricade of Piepus had been forced. At the head of a hundred musketeers he threw himself upon the barricade, and drove the enemy back in its own dust. Never had the conqueror been greater than on that useless, terrible 2d of July.