Tired of delay, I at length resolved to apply once more to the Prince in person, though Gourville shook his head, laughing, and told me that he could see very plainly that his Highness was determined to keep me some time longer. About noon, I went out to the camp, but, on arriving at the door of the house in which the Prince de Condé had taken up his quarters, and which was the tapestry manufactory, called les Gobelins, then belonging to a private individual, I was agreeably surprised to find half a dozen of the grooms and attendants of Monsieur de Villardin. From them I learned that the Duke had obtained a safe-conduct the preceding day, and had arrived on a visit to the Prince about an hour before. In the ante-chamber I found the officer who had brought me to Paris, and who, informing me that messengers had already been sent to seek me, directed one of the attendants to let the Prince know that I had arrived. The next moment I was admitted to his Highness's presence, and found him seated with Monsieur de Villardin, while Gaspard de Belleville stood before them with a sullen and downcast countenance, on which I plainly read the workings of reproof and correction upon a stubborn and an evil heart. The sound of my step instantly called upon me a glance from my adversary as quick as lightning, and full of rage and hatred. Condé, however, took no notice of my approach, and continued the interrogation of his officer, which had previously commenced.
"Pray, sir," he said, "how came you to fire the château at all, when the general order was given to keep silence, and conduct the advance with as much secrecy as possible?"
"I caused the house to be burned, your Highness, by order of the Duke of Nemours," replied Gaspard.
"But the Duke tells me," rejoined the Prince, "that the order was given at your suggestion. How was that, sir? speak!"
"My reason for proposing it, my lord," replied the officer, "was, that I thought the regiment of Latour might miss its way without some signal from us; and by that time the Englishman there had discovered our march and lighted a beacon on the hill."
"For which your Highness owes him no great thanks," said Monsieur de Villardin, with a smile: "for the tidings we received from him enabled us to keep you in check the next day."
"He did his duty, and he did it well, my good friend," answered the Prince; "I would to God that my officers would do the same. As for you, sir," he continued, addressing Gaspard de Belleville, "it is quite sufficiently evident that your motives were not the best in burning the château of Virmont, and still more evident, that your conduct towards your prisoner afterwards was unworthy and ungenerous. In regard to the first, you have certainly taken care to shelter yourself under an order from the Duke of Nemours; but as you suggested that order, I shall dismiss you from every post about my person, though you keep your company. In regard to the treatment of your prisoner, of which Monsieur de Villardin has explained to me the cause, I can, of course, only reprove you for conduct unbecoming a French gentleman. There is no military law which enables me to punish such behaviour, except, indeed, by reducing the ransom which may be demanded for him, and which I fix at 400 crowns."
Of course Gaspard de Belleville dared not reply to the severe terms of the Prince; but I saw his eye glare from my face to that of Monsieur de Villardin, with an expression which would have boded neither of us any good had his means of injuring us been equal to his desire of doing so. Monsieur de Villardin declared that he would pay my ransom himself, and immediately gave an order for the sum, which Condé delivered into the hands of my adversary, and bade him retire.
"I am obliged," said the Prince, in a sort of apologetic tone, as soon as we were left without other witnesses--"I am obliged to suffer these fellows to make as much of their trade as they can, or a great number of them would leave me. In other respects, the system of taking ransoms, which, thank God, is becoming less common, is by no means one I like. But, however, I have suffered you to escape at a cheap rate, Monsieur de Juvigny," he added, turning towards me, "and as I find you are determined not to stay with me, I suppose I must even let you go."
As these words might be considered as a hint that our audience was at an end, Monsieur de Villardin rose, and we took our leave, the Prince laying his hand familiarly upon my arm as we were departing, and saying, in a kind tone, "I shall not forget Vincennes."
Without suffering me to return to Paris, Monsieur de Villardin made one of his servants give me up a horse, and we rode together at once to St. Denis, where the Court was then assembled. I now found that some interest had been excited concerning my fate amongst persons whom I had scarcely imagined to be acquainted with my existence. To Monsieur de Turenne, to the Queen, to the young King, and to the Cardinal, I was presented once more by Monsieur de Villardin, on the occasion of my liberation, and I found that--each had something to say to me upon my late adventures. Turenne told me, in his simple manner, that he was very much obliged to me for thinking of the beacons, as the speedy information communicated to him of the march of the Prince de Condé had most likely saved the royal army at Briare. The Queen said that she remembered seeing me at Poitiers, and added, that a long imprisonment must be a more beneficial thing than was generally supposed, as my appearance was very much improved.
The Cardinal said something, with a strong Italian accent; I saw that it was intended to be witty and pointed, and though I did not very well understand it, I smiled, which did quite as well. The young King thanked me gracefully for my services and attachment to his cause, and added, "I trust that means will occur, ere long, of rewarding your exertions and compensating your sufferings in our cause."
All this promised well for my future success in life; and though at that time my ambition was cooped within very narrow limits, I must own that I felt a good deal of joy at the prospect of rising to some station where I might distinguish myself in the profession of arms.
The pleasure, however, of being free, and of meeting applause where I most desired it, was, indeed, a little alloyed by the necessity of communicating to Monsieur de Villardin the confession--for such, in fact, it was--of Suzette. I knew not what effect it might ultimately have upon his mind, whether good or bad--whether the knowledge of having injured an innocent and virtuous woman who had loved him dearly, and was passionately loved by him, might not send the sting of remorse still deeper into his heart--especially if the fearful suspicions which I entertained were just; or, whether, on the other hand, the discovery that he had been worked upon and deceived by designing people and an artful scheme, that he had been cheated into all the acts he had committed, and almost driven mad himself by a plot which he could hardly have divined, might not take away some portion of the responsibility which now weighed so heavy upon him, and cast a part of the load of culpability upon other shoulders. At all events, I knew that the very renewal of a subject which had never been mentioned for several years, would reawaken a world of painful memories, some of which I trusted now slept; and I shrunk from the task I had undertaken, hoping from day to day that something would occur to render its execution less difficult. Monsieur de Villardin, however, seemed also to avoid the topic altogether; and although he knew that I had seen Suzette several times, and must in his own mind have connected her name with the memory of his unhappy wife, yet he never mentioned the circumstance after our arrival at St. Denis, and seemed purposely to turn from any reference to Gaspard de Belleville and his wife. The matter was thus rendered more difficult to me; and, as I could not but remark that the gloom which I have before noticed, had taken a deeper hold of Monsieur de Villardin than ever--as, the moment that any active exertion was over, all energy seemed to abandon his mind, and as it pained me to think of increasing the deep and bitter melancholy in which he passed all his solitary hours, I still, as I have said, put off the task from day to day, till at length the army was ordered to march, and I had scarcely time to attend to anything else than the military duties in which I was now employed.
On my return to the regiment, I found that the troop which I commanded before my imprisonment had been nearly annihilated by the cross fire into which I had so rashly led them at Virmont. Not above twenty men, indeed, had escaped of those of whom it was originally composed. Monsieur de Villardin, however, had recruited it by the addition of about forty more; and, while we stayed at St. Denis, I did all that I could to gain volunteers. Thus, when we marched for Compiegne, the troop amounted to about eighty men; but, I must confess, that it was altogether in a much better state than when I had left it, for the number of marches, skirmishes, and man[oe]uvres, which it had since taken part in under the command of Turenne, had done far more to render the men expert, veteran, and well-disciplined, than all the drilling we could give them before.
It was very necessary, indeed, that our troops should be of the best quality, for, at this time, with less than ten thousand men, we had to make head against the Spanish army and the Duke of Loraine on the frontiers of Flanders, while the force of the Princes was in our rear--not sufficiently powerful, indeed, to meet us in the open field, but quite sufficiently so to render any check that we might receive from the superior numbers of the Spaniards utterly fatal to the royal cause.
It is unnecessary to relate the events that immediately succeeded, for there are few people in the present day who are not well acquainted with the skilful man[oe]uvres by which Turenne, without striking a stroke, compelled the Spanish army to evacuate the French territory; and it would be only wearisome in this place to detail the means which he employed to arrive at such a fortunate result. This having been effected, however, we returned to Gonesse, in order to watch the movements of the Prince de Condé, who remained in the neighbourhood of Paris for the purpose of keeping his party in the capital from the ruin with which it was continually threatened by the dissensions of the leaders.
We were soon again in activity; for the Duke of Loraine, having once more entered France with a force of sixteen thousand men, marched forward, on the side of Champagne, to effect his junction with the Prince dc Condé. At the same time, that Prince decamped from under the walls of Paris to meet him, while Turenne hastened to pass the Marne at Lagni, and advanced with extraordinary rapidity upon Brie Comte Robert, where we first encountered the troops of the Duke of Loraine. Finding that we were not strong enough to contest that post with him, we turned, and hastened towards Villeneuve St. George, but here again the troops of Loraine were before us, the town in their possession, and the bridge, as well as the heights which command it, already occupied by two companies of infantry and four pieces of artillery. For the purpose of proceeding with greater speed, our own infantry and artillery had both been left to follow; and when he first discovered that this post also was in possession of the enemy, Turenne had only with him three regiments of cavalry. We had all halted, while the Maréchal rode forward to ascertain the facts with his own eyes, but, in a minute or two after, he cantered back to the head of Monsieur de Villardin's regiment, and spoke a few words to him in a kindly and smiling manner; and, as I was not far off, I heard him say, in reply to something which the Duke had observed, "Oh, no, my friend, one troop can dislodge them; and then, with our fresh forces, we can keep possession of the ground till the artillery comes up."
What Monsieur de Villardin replied, I did not hear; but Turenne immediately answered, "We will give him the opportunity, at all events;" and I instantly received an order to draw out from the little wood that covered us, and charge the company that occupied the heights. An injunction was added not to follow the enemy too far, but to satisfy myself with dislodging them from their present post.
I found no difficulty in executing these commands. The enemy reserved their fire till we were within about fifty yards, and then received us with a general discharge. Half a dozen men and horses went over at once; but we were by this time in the very heat of the charge, and not one man who was capable of going forward tightened his rein. The enemy, who had expected to see us waver, took fright at our approach, and, after a very faint resistance, were driven down the hill with considerable slaughter. Their guns and ammunition were left behind; and when, after some difficulty, I could halt my men and bring them back to the heights, I found the ground already occupied by Monsieur de Turenne, and the cannon which we had taken turned against the bridge.
The Duke of Loraine, however, not being aware that our infantry and artillery had been left behind, imagined that Turenne occupied the heights in force, and, knowing the town to be untenable under such circumstances, instantly decamped, and took post upon the Seine, about a league farther up. No more skirmishing therefore occurred; and, without being obliged to fire upon either the bridge or the town, we remained in tranquil possession of our position till the rest of the forces came up, and rendered it completely secure.
Monsieur de Turenne made no observation at the moment upon the manner in which I had executed his commands, nor did I expect him to do so, for I knew that I had not performed my duty ill, but yet felt quite conscious that I had done no more than my duty. Towards six o'clock in the evening, however, I was called to his tent, and found him just concluding a despatch, giving notice to the Court of the different man[oe]uvres that had taken place. As soon as I entered, he looked up, with one of his calm, intelligent smiles, saying merely, "You performed so well what I commanded you this morning, that I am going to send you away from me. You must carry this despatch to Pontoise, or to whatever other town his Majesty may now be in; and I doubt not that he will appreciate the services of an officer, who does gallantly and skilfully that which he is commanded, without overstepping the line that is prescribed to him." A number of superior officers were present at the moment; and it may be well conceived that such words from such a man made my cheek glow with unexpected pleasure.
Monsieur de Villardin, who was also in the tent, followed me out, and told me that, while my horses were preparing, he would write a brief note to his cousin, Monsieur le Tellier, one of the King's ministers, who might teach me how to turn to some account the favourable terms in which Monsieur de Turenne had mentioned me in his despatch. As speed is in all these cases a great object, and the first bearer of good tidings is always likely to be better received than those who follow after, I neither spared myself nor my horses till I reached Pontoise, which I accomplished, without the slightest interruption, in the course of the following day.
Great was the joy which my arrival spread; for neither King, nor Queen, nor ministers, had felt themselves at all easy under the prospect of a junction between the Prince de Condé and the Duke of Loraine in the immediate vicinity of Paris; and, as Turenne now gave them the most positive assurance that he would be able to keep both those generals in check, for at least a month, while the Court negotiated with the Parisians, and raised new troops, it may be conceived that his despatch proved a very agreeable relief to the minds of all. It luckily so happened, also, that one of the persons most interested in the tidings which I brought was precisely in the situation which best enabled him to make my journey as satisfactory to myself as it had proved to him. Cardinal Mazarin, having by this time been forced once more to quit France, had left his whole interest in the hands of his friend, Monsieur le Tellier; and that minister, who knew that the first reverse on the part of the Court would induce the Parliament to pronounce the Cardinal's banishment eternal, was perhaps more overjoyed than any one at the tidings that I brought. I found him out immediately after my arrival, and communicated the intelligence to him before he had received it from any other person. At the very first intelligence, he took me in his arms, and hugged me, as if I had been his own son; and then, making me sit down to dinner with him, at which meal he had been engaged when I entered, he asked me a multitude of questions, seeking evidently a confirmation of the hopes which Monsieur de Turenne had held out.
I anticipated no immediate reward, however; and as I was very anxious to see the rest of the campaign, I determined to depart the next day or the one following, if I could obtain leave to do so; and, therefore, on the morning after my arrival, I again visited the minister, in order to request that he would solicit for me the King's permission to that effect. Without making me any reply, he took me by the hand, and led me, followed by a secretary with his portfolio, to the presence of the young monarch and his mother, who were listening to some news from Paris, not quite so agreeable in their nature as my tidings had proved.
"This young gentleman, sire," said Monsieur le Tellier, "is all eagerness to return to the camp, in order to serve your Majesty in the field, but I think you said that you had some commands for him ere his departure?"
"You are right," replied the monarch; "are the letters drawn up?"
Le Tellier instantly took a parchment from the portfolio which was carried by his secretary, and placed it in the hands of the young King, who ran his eye hastily over it. Louis then addressed me, in a tone and manner so dignified and kinglike, that I could not but perceive that a great change had wrought itself in his mind since I was first presented to him at Saumur; though I little anticipated at the time that the alteration which I marked would go on progressively but rapidly, till the careless and somewhat indolent boy became the greatest monarch of his age.
"Monsieur de Juvigny," he said, "we are informed by the Maréchal de Turenne, that, when we held our court at Gien, by the prompt and skilful measures which your own judgment suggested, for conveying immediate information to our generals of the advance of the Prince de Condé, you saved us all from very imminent danger. He also informs us, in his despatch received yesterday, that you have again highly distinguished yourself in dislodging a superior body of the enemy from the heights above Villeneuve St. George, and he recommends you strongly to our notice and favour. We ourselves have not forgotten that you have once been severely wounded, and have suffered a long and cruel imprisonment for your attachment to our cause, and your opposition to the rebels now in arms against us. Monsieur le Tellier, also, upon the authority of Monsieur de Villardin, informs us that in your native country your father and mother were both of gentle blood; but, at all events, it is the prerogative of royalty to ennoble, and therefore it is, that we have caused these letters to be drawn up, not only for the purpose of expressing our thanks to you for the services you have performed, but also as a proof to all others that no one ever will serve us without meeting due honour and recompence."
He then gave me the parchment that he had received from Le Tellier; and, though I knew not what it contained, I bent my knee and kissed his Majesty's hand, with every token of gratitude. I then withdrew, in company with the minister, who, as soon as we were in another apartment, bade me open the letters and read the contents. I did so immediately, and found that the parchment contained letters patent, conferring on me the rank and title of Baron de Juvigny; and adding what seemed to me the more solid recompence, of a pension of three thousand crowns per annum, chargeable upon the receipts of the duchy of Brittany, "till such time--," so the letters ran, "till such time as his Majesty thought fit to assign me an estate of equal value."
Monsieur le Tellier laid his left hand upon my shoulder as I read, and, pointing with his right to the words concerning the pension, he repeated, "Three thousand crowns!--that is, when you can get them, my young friend;" and laughing gaily, he added, "which will not be till the country is quiet, and these rebels put down. So go, and do your best against them; and God send that we may soon be delivered from their company altogether!"
"Amen!" replied I; and I doubt not that Monsieur le Tellier devoutly believed that it was the prospect of my three thousand crowns which gave such fervency to my aspirations; but it was perhaps that I was heartily tired of civil wars, having seen little else ever since I was born; and I certainly did long to be in one good stricken field, between nations of different tongues and dwelling-places, if it were but for a change. I said nothing, however, to undeceive the minister; but taking my leave, with many thanks for honours and rewards, which I felt very sure had been obtained for me fully as much by interest as by merit, I withdrew with the letters patent of a barony in my pocket, but very little else besides.
It was with great difficulty that I made my way back to the army, for by this time Condé had effected his junction with the Duke of Loraine, and Turenne had encamped between Limei and the Yeres river, resting on the Seine on one side and on a thick wood on the other. The enemy's force, amounting to three times his own, straitened the marshal's camp in every direction; and, shut in the angle formed by the confluence of the Seine and the Yeres, there seemed no possibility of escape for Turenne and his army. I know not to the present day if this position was or was not taken up through an oversight on the part of Turenne; and I am rather inclined to think it was, as at the time there were not provisions in the camp for four days, and the horses were almost entirely without forage; but if it was a fault, it was one of those glorious ones which sometimes to a man of genius prove more advantageous than the best laid plan. The result is well known. Turenne planted himself there between the enemy and Paris, threw bridges across the Seine, opened a communication with the neighbouring country, obtained provisions and forage notwithstanding all the efforts of his adversaries to prevent him, and kept a force of treble the number of his own army at bay during six weeks.
It was about the fourth day after the camp was formed that I returned from the Court; but as the whole open country was at that time in the hands of the enemy, I had very nearly been taken by a strong party on the return from foraging. Strange to say, also, I had well nigh again fallen into the hands of Gaspard de Belleville, who commanded the escort, having been at one time within two hundred yards of him. Nothing but my horse's speed saved me; for being close pursued by some cravates attached to the foragers, I was obliged to swim the river, which, however, was done with ease, and I found myself in security on the other bank.
Monsieur de Villardin welcomed me with every sign of joy, and immediately asked what Monsieur le Tellier had done for me. He smiled when I told him, saying that he had hoped the Court would have shown me some more substantial mark of favour.
"However," he added, "the King no doubt gave you the barony, which costs nothing but parchment and wax, because he had nothing else to give. As to the pension of three thousand crowns, as I know there has not been such a sum in the royal treasury for many months, you must not calculate upon that."
On examining our camp, I found that Monsieur de Villardin, who kept the open field, though some of the officers had been fortunate enough to obtain quarters in the little hamlets, had caused his tent to be divided into four small apartments, of which he assigned me one; and as our time passed very dully without any event of importance to occupy our attention, I had no excuse even to myself for delaying longer the communication which I had promised Suzette to make. The Duke behaved to me not only as a father, but as a kind and affectionate one; and whenever we were not engaged in some military duty, we were either sitting together in the division of the tent which he called his saloon, or walking along the banks of the rivers, mingling various subjects of conversation with observations upon the enemy's movements, of which we caught a sight from time to time. I thus had plenty of opportunities for telling my tale, had I been able to make up my mind to do so; but the more my affection for Monsieur de Villardin increased, the more proofs, of tenderness and regard he gave me, the less willing I became to wring his heart by all the long details of so painful a theme.
Thus again I let day after day slip by, till one morning, as we were walking slowly along towards Château Ablon, which Turenne had taken some time before by a coup de main, the Duke afforded me himself an opportunity of introducing the subject, which I felt must not be longer neglected, if I ever intended to perform my task.
"Do you know, De Juvigny," he said, addressing me by the name which he always now gave me, "I have taken a sort of thirst lately to see my little Laura. She will be a good deal changed by this time since I last saw her. Did you not think," he added, in a sort of under tone, "did you not think that she was growing very like her mother?"
"I think she was, my lord," I replied; "and God grant that she may have both her mother's virtues and her mother's beauty!"
"Without her sorrows," said Monsieur de Villardin, in the same low tone, raising his eyes towards the sky, and adding, what from the moving of his lips I thought a prayer. "Without her sorrows," he again repeated, louder, "and, oh! without any of her father's faults."
"Forgive me, my lord," I said, feeling that now was the moment, if ever, "forgive me if I do a bold thing, and attempt to offer you consolation upon your private sorrows."
He shook his head with a bitter and melancholy smile, replying, "Consolation, my dear boy, is in vain. I have sought it in every source--religion--philosophy--time--activity--danger; and I have never found it. It is the alchemist's elixir of life, a specious name, which can only be believed by those who have never tried it."
"Nevertheless, my lord," I persevered in saying, "I think you may find consolation in some facts which I have to tell you; especially if, as your words just now implied, a part of your grief proceeds from the memory of some faults which you imagine to have existed in your conduct towards your deceased lady."
"All! all!" said the Duke; "all proceeds from those fatal memories; and I am afraid, De Juvigny, that you can in no degree assuage the burning of a heart, whose thoughts you cannot see."
"Still I must entreat you to listen to me," I rejoined; "for a man can scarcely be considered guilty, for having committed actions which he was urged on to perform by the basest conspiracy to deceive him and to mislead his better judgment; and when such evidence was adduced to make him think the innocent guilty, as might well create suspicion against an angel of heaven."
My words at once showed him that I had something more to communicate than mere ordinary topics of ineffectual consolation, which fall upon the dull ear, but never reach the heart; and he soon became more eager to hear than I was to tell. Turning round quickly, he paused, and gazed at me as if he would have searched my very soul, to gather at once what I was about to relate; and then exclaimed, "Speak! speak! speak, young man!" in a tone and with a manner that almost made me fear the effect which Suzette's confession might have upon his reason.
I pointed, however, to the sentinels close by, who were gazing with some sort of wonder at his vehemence; and recovering command over himself, he walked on with me, with his eyes bent upon the ground, while I proceeded in a low and calm voice, in order that the tidings I had to give might be fully understood, without irritating his imagination by all the adjuncts of emphasis and gesture.
"You remember, my lord," I said, "that I told you, when we were together in Paris, on the day of the massacre at the Hôtel de Ville, that I had been saved and well treated by Suzette, who is now the wife of Gaspard de Belleville. I told you, too, that he behaves to her in the most brutal manner; but I have not found an opportunity of telling you, till this moment, that she related to me the whole scheme by which she and her base husband contrived to deceive you and render you miserable. From a feeling, partly of remorse, partly, I believe, of hatred to her present tyrant, and partly in consequence of a vow which she made to her confessor, she charged me to detail the whole to you, word for word, and she gave me this billet, in order to make you yield full credit to the whole I have to tell. I have preserved that billet through everything," I added, putting it into his hands, "though I do not think you would have doubted my word even had I not possessed it."
Monsieur de Villardin took it eagerly out of my hand, and read it over with a straining eye; but instantly turning to me, he exclaimed, "It tells me nothing--speak on! speak on! I would believe you of course without that--speak on!"
He had become deadly pale, however; and I paused, apprehensive of more painful consequences if I proceeded, saying, "Had I not better wait, my lord, till you are more calm? The subject is too painful to you. Had I not better wait?"
"Perhaps you had," replied Monsieur de Villardin, who felt how much he was shaken; "perhaps you had. I will soon recover from this, my dear boy; and when I can lend my rational senses to the consideration of what you have to tell me, instead of my passions, which are now engaged, I will tell you--perhaps to-night. Now give me your arm:" and with a slow step he turned back to his tent, where, shutting himself up in the inner division, he remained for some time alone.
At night, however, after returning from some other occupation, I found him much more calm; for the constant struggles he had long been obliged to maintain against his own feelings had given him the power of quelling their most turbulent efforts, after a short space given to reflection.
"Now, De Juvigny," he said, almost as I entered the tent, "now I am capable of listening to your tidings, whatever they may be; so speak on--I can hear you like a rational being now."
As I saw that he was really prepared, I proceeded more boldly, and related to him, word for word, as far as my memory served me, the account which had been given to me by Suzette. This I was permitted to do uninterrupted, for, with his head leaning upon his arm, and his hand shading his eyes, he listened, without question or comment of any kind whatsoever, till I had finished all that I had to say. Even for some minutes afterwards he remained still buried in deep thought, though the words, "Fiends!--incarnate fiends!" which once or twice broke from his lips, showed that his mind was busy with the tale of deceit and villany which I had just related.
"You have, indeed," he said at length, "given me consolation; or, perhaps, as I had better call it, you have afforded to me the means of palliating, to my own mind, the errors that I have committed. I had but one palliation before--the consciousness," and he lowered his voice as he spoke, "the consciousness of having acted under mental aberration. It was consolatory to me to know that I had been a madman; and now," he continued, with a bitter smile, "it is still more consolatory to me to know that I was a fool--a gross and egregious fool! What must be the state of a man's heart when such convictions can be such a relief!"
"I think, my lord," I replied, willing to do all that I could to soften the sting, "I think that any one might have been deceived by such a base and deep-laid scheme as that by which you were betrayed."
"Nay, nay," he added, "I was a fool, a consummate fool, in everything, and in none less than in thinking that my feelings, and my designs, and my weaknesses, were all hidden within my own bosom, when they seem to have been as plain to yourself and to those two false and cruel wretches as they were to the eyes of Heaven. Do not strive to persuade me that I was not blind and foolish. It is, I tell you, it is a consolation to me to know that I was so. Deep, eternal, everlasting regret will still continue my portion throughout life. Every unkind word, every harsh look, every ungenerous and cruel action, with which I afflicted the heart of her who is now a saint in heaven, will rise up night after night, and day after day, before my memory, and render the sky that overhangs me and the world around dark and gloomy for ever. Each action, each look, each word, each smile of her who is now no more, will be remembered with sad and inconsolable regret; but, nevertheless, that I was myself deceived--that my own wild and mad suspicions were not all--that I was fooled and played upon, and made to act a part my better nature disavows--this, this, I acknowledge, presses part of the poison out of the wound, and softens the sting of remorse. I thank you for your tidings, De Juvigny," he added, laying his hand kindly upon my arm, "I thank you from my very heart. Your voice always brings me comfort, and your arm always renders me service."
He paused for a moment or two again, and then asked me one or two questions concerning Suzette, to which I replied as clearly, but as briefly, as I could, for I thought it better to change the painful subject for some other as fast as possible, and, having administered the medicine, to let time work out its effect in silence. He seemed, however, to take a pleasure himself in dwelling upon the theme, now that it had once been spoken of between us. "Her whole story," he added, alluding to Suzette, "is so minutely consistent with every circumstance which I remember, that I cannot doubt it in the least. To confess one weakness more, I acknowledge that it is no small comfort to my mind to find every circumstance that deceived me, susceptible of a clear and satisfactory explanation; to see every cloud of doubt wafted away from the remembrance of one who now will live for ever enshrined in my heart, not the less loved, not the less adored, that bitter sorrow for her fate, and deep contrition for my faults, embalm her memory, and wash her tomb with tears."
I was delighted to find that what I told produced such an effect; for, to say the truth, I had been like an unskilful physician, and knew not at the time that I administered it, whether the cup which I had presented to Monsieur de Villardin would prove a poison or an antidote. It had evidently become the latter, and I doubted not that every hour which passed would increase its power. I saw, too, that, in some degree, Suzette had shrewdly divined the true state of Monsieur de Villardin's feelings; and that, however much he might be convinced before that he had deeply wronged his wife, his mind would never have rested satisfied till all the mysterious circumstances, which at first aroused his suspicions, had been explained as clearly as they were at present. From the first effect of the tidings I had given, I was led to expect more beneficial results than they afterwards produced. Monsieur de Villardin certainly was calmer from that day forward; the sting of remorse was, as he had said, softened; a part of the load was off his head, but still the deep and bitter melancholy continued. I could see a slight difference--a shade less in the darkness of the gloom that oppressed him, but that was all. He was not so often found sitting alone, immersed in sad and frowning thought. I saw him more frequently with a book in his hand; and events of less importance than heretofore would rouse him into activity and exertion. Yet he was never what can be called cheerful; despondency remained the general character of his mind, and he still seemed to find that relief in moments of danger and excitement, which showed that calm thought was little less painful than heretofore.
Three weeks of almost perfect inactivity, however, succeeded, and, with the exception of an occasional unimportant skirmish with the enemy, we passed our time in idleness in the camp. In the meanwhile, events were in preparation, which were destined to change the aspect of political affairs. A schism had taken place between the Prince de Condé and the leaders of the Fronde: the Duke of Nemours had been killed by his brother-in-law, the Duke of Beaufort, in a duel; the Parisians were gradually becoming heartily sick of turbulence and faction, which they found only served--as turbulence and faction always do--to promote the views of a few intriguing individuals at the sacrifice of commerce, industry, and the public good; and the Court, negotiating with all parties, had by this time obtained such a preponderance, that it seemed likely to be received with open arms in Paris, if the army of Turenne could, by any means, be extricated from its present position, and brought nearer to the capital.
At length an express order arrived for Turenne to endeavour, on the very first favourable opportunity, to decamp and join the Court; and that great general--knowing that his movements were no longer watched by the keen eye of Condé, who had gone back in person to Paris, in the belief that the royal army could not escape--determined to attempt his retreat at once. On the morning of the fourth of October, orders were sent to the officer who commanded in the town of Corbeil, to raise some redoubts on the heights near that place, and bridges having been thrown across the river, we waited till night, and then began our march in silence. We hastened on as fast as possible till we got between the Seine and the forest of Senard, when, both our flanks being covered, we could advance in security. From this point we proceeded more slowly, still looking out, however, for our enemy, who never appeared; and, to tell the truth, we might have marched in any direction we liked, for we had arrived at Corbeil, and were safe in our new position long before the Duke of Loraine even perceived that we had quitted our former camp. A longer and more difficult march, however, was before us, for we had now to join the Court at Mantes, and to cross a great extent of country in presence of an infinitely superior force. Whether the Duke of Loraine was deceived in regard to our movements, or whether he did not choose to act in the absence of the Prince de Condé, I cannot tell; but certain it is that we were suffered to proceed without interruption, and arrived in the neighbourhood of Senlis without having to fire a shot.
The presence of the army and the safety of its troops were not the greatest advantages which the Court derived from this extraordinary retreat. The mismanagement of the Duke of Loraine, and the absence of the Prince de Condé from his army, at a moment when his presence was so much required, ruined entirely the already sinking reputation of the faction opposed to the Court. The Parisians, who had long begun to hate it, now added contempt to detestation; and we heard at Mantes that Condé himself had been actually hooted in the streets of the capital, before he quitted it to rejoin his troops. Tremendous autumnal rains had now succeeded: both provisions and forage had by this time been exhausted in the neighbourhood of the Prince's camp; and, after one of the most inglorious campaigns that he ever made, Condé found himself obliged to retreat upon Laon, passing within a few miles of our forces at Senlis.
All was now joy and satisfaction for the moment; but, as neither officers nor men had received any pay for a considerable time, it became probable that, should the expectations which they entertained of receiving their arrears from the Court be disappointed, they would speedily drop away and leave the King without the means of defence. Under these circumstances, it became absolutely necessary that the Court should venture to return to the capital; but it was not without long discussions and persuasions that Turenne induced the Queen and her ministers to comply. At the time that this was proposed, Monsieur de Villardin and myself had just reached Mantes; and, for a day or two, all was uncertainty and confusion, different reports spreading through the town every hour--now that we were to set off directly--now that the Queen had positively refused to trust herself in Paris--now that we were to wait for messengers from the capital ere any plan could be finally adopted.
At length, however, the order to prepare for the journey was given; and, shortly after, the King, the Queen, the ministers, with a long train of ladies and gentlemen, set out in carriages which had once been splendid, but were so no longer, while guards, officers, attendants, and courtiers on horseback, made up a procession of nearly a mile in length.
In this order we reached St. Germains, when again uncertainty seized upon all our movements; and for three days I do not think any one had the slightest idea whether the next day would see us on our road forward to Paris or back to Mantes. The bolder counsels of Turenne, however, prevailed; and on the fourth day we once more began our march, with the addition of a great number of the inhabitants of St. Germains on foot, who swelled the cortege without increasing its splendour; for, to say the truth, such was the poverty of the Court and all about it, such was the difficulty which every nobleman experienced in procuring remittances from his estates, however near or however distant, and such was the battered and travel-soiled equipage of all the officers and military followers, that it was very difficult to say which was the shabbiest in appearance, the rabble of carriages, of horsemen, or of pedestrians. We wound on, however, towards the capital, contrary to the opinion of many who were obliged to form part of the cavalcade, till we arrived within a few miles of Paris; but, in the midst of theBois de Boulogne, we were met by a party of cavaliers from the city, who came up at full gallop, and calling to the front horsemen to stop, approached respectfully to the side of the Queen's carriage. They now besought her Majesty and the ministers to think well what they were doing before they brought the young King into the capital; they represented in strong terms the troubled state of the city, and they assured their hearers that the Duke of Orleans, who had been declared by the Parliament Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, was actually arranging a plan for seizing upon the monarch's person, and causing a general revolt in the metropolis.
Of course such tidings spread terror and dismay amongst the greater part of those who formed the royal procession; but upon examination it was found, that the messengers who bore this threatening intelligence--several of whom were known--might be reasonably suspected, as belonging generally to the party of the Fronde, which had everything to apprehend from the reception of the Court in Paris. Nevertheless, the risk was certainly great.
An instant order was now given for the procession to halt, and for all persons, except the ministers and a few of the general officers, to withdraw to a certain distance from the royal carriage. This was immediately done, and the Queen held a sort of council in the midst of theBois de Boulogne. I heard afterwards that the voices of all, generals and ministers alike, with the exception of Turenne and Monsieur de Villardin, were given in favour of an immediate return to St. Germains. Those two officers, however, so strongly exposed all the weakness and folly of such a step, that the Queen herself and the young King both declared their resolution to proceed, suspecting, what I believe really was the case, that the augurs of evil, by whom we had been joined, had been sent out on purpose to terrify the Court, if possible, and prevent it from taking a step which would be ruinous to the party of the Fronde.
As soon as this was decided, we once more commenced our march, and ere long were within sight of the gates of Paris. An immense multitude of all ages, classes, and descriptions, were at that very moment streaming forth from the city; and I could see, as I rode along, more than one anxious face protruded from the carriages, to examine the crowd which we were now rapidly approaching. I dare say that the memory of the massacre at the Hôtel de Ville was at that very moment strong in the minds of all. We advanced with apparent boldness, however, into the very midst of the crowd. Several stragglers, it seems, had found their way forward, and had informed the people that an attempt had been made to prevent the King from entering Paris, but that he had determined to trust himself in the hands of his subjects. Nevertheless, for a moment or two, as we came up, there was a dead silence, which, I confess, appeared to me somewhat ominous, till the royal carriage was in the heart of a multitude, consisting of certainly not less than a hundred thousand persons: but, at that instant, a loud and universal shout of "Vive le Roi!" burst from every tongue, and doubt and apprehension were all at an end for ever.