Memoirs Of Jean Francois Paul De Gondi, Cardinal De Retz, Volume IV.

J >> Jean Francois Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz >> Memoirs Of Jean Francois Paul De Gondi, Cardinal De Retz, Volume IV.


On the 24th it was ordered that a general assembly should be held at the
Hotel de Ville, to consider the ways and means to raise money for
supporting the troops, and that the statues at Mazarin's palace should be
sold to make up the sum set upon the Cardinal's head.

On the 29th it was resolved in the Hotel de Ville to raise 800,000 livres
for augmenting his Royal Highness's troops, and to exhort all the great
towns of the kingdom to unite with the metropolis.

On the 6th of August the King sent a declaration signifying the removal
of the Parliament to Pontoise. There was a great commotion in the House,
who agreed not to register it till the Cardinal had left the kingdom. As
for the Parliament of Pontoise, which consisted of but fourteen officers,
with three Presidents at their head, who had a little before retired in
disguise from Paris, they made remonstrances likewise to the King for
removing Cardinal Mazarin. The King granted what was desired of him, and
that upon the solicitations of that honest, disinterested minister, who
withdrew from Court to Bouillon. This comedy, so unworthy the dignity of
a king, was accompanied with circumstances that rendered it still more
ridiculous:--The two Parliaments fulminated severe decrees against one
another, and that of Paris made an order that whosoever sat in the
assembly at Pontoise should be struck off the register.

At the same time that of Pontoise registered the King's declaration,
which contained an injunction to the Parliament of Paris, the Chamber of
Accounts, and the Court of Aids, that, since Cardinal Mazarin was
removed, they should now lay down their arms on condition that his
Majesty would grant an amnesty, remove his troops from about Paris,
withdraw those that were in Guienne, allow a free and safe passage to the
Spanish troops, and give the Princes permission to send to his Majesty
persons to confer with his ministers concerning what remained to be
adjusted. This same Parliament resolved to return their thanks to his
Majesty for removing Cardinal Mazarin, and most humbly to entreat the
King to return to his good city of Paris.

On the 26th they also registered the King's amnesty, or royal pardon,
granted to all that had taken up arms against him, but with such
restrictions that very few could think themselves safe by it.

The King acquainted the Duc d'Orleans that he wondered that, since
Mazarin was removed, he should delay, according to his own declaration
and promise, to lay down his arms, to renounce all associations and
treaties, and to cause the foreign troops to withdraw; and that when this
was done, those deputies that should come to his Majesty from him should
be very welcome.

On the 3d of September the Parliament resolved that their deputies should
wait upon the King with their thanks for removing Cardinal Mazarin, and
to beseech his Majesty to return to Paris; that the Duc d'Orleans and the
Prince de Conde should be desired to write to the King and assure him
they would lay down their arms as soon as his Majesty would be pleased to
send the passports for the safe retreat of the foreigners, together with
an amnesty in due form, registered in all the Parliaments of the kingdom;
and that his Majesty should be petitioned to receive the deputies of the
Princes.

Pray indulge me with a short pause here to consider the scandalous arts
which ministers palliate with the name and sacred word of a great King,
and with which the most august Parliament of the kingdom--the Court of
Peers--expose themselves to ridicule by such manifest inconsistencies as
are more becoming the levity of a college than the majesty of a senate.
In short, persons are not sensible of what they do in these State
paroxysms, which savour somewhat of frenzy. I knew in those days some
very honest men, who were so fully satisfied of the justice of the cause
of the Princes that, upon occasion, they would have laid down their lives
for it; and I also knew some eminently virtuous and disinterested men who
would as gladly have been martyrs for the Court. The ambition of great
men manages such dispositions just as it suits their own interests; they
help to blind the rest of mankind, and they even become blinder
themselves than other people.

Honest M. de Fontenay, who had been twice ambassador at Rome, a man of
great experience and good sense and a hearty well-wisher to his country,
daily condoled with me on the lethargy into which the intestine divisions
had lulled the best citizens and patriots. We saw the Spanish colours
and standards displayed upon the Pont-Neuf; the yellow sashes of Lorraine
appeared at Paris with the same liberty as the Isabelles and blue ones.
People were so accustomed to these spectacles and to the news of
provinces, towns, and battles lost, that they were become insolent and
stupid. Several of my friends blamed my inactivity, and desired me to
bestir myself. They bid me save the kingdom, save the city, or else I
should fall from the greatest love to the greatest hatred of the people.
The Frondeurs suspected me of favouring Mazarin's party, and the Mazarins
thought I was too partial to the Frondeurs.

I was touched to the quick with a pathetic speech made to me by M. de
Fontenay. "You see," said he, "that Mazarin, like a Jack-in-the-bog,
plays at Bo-peep; but you see that, whether he appears or disappears, the
wire by which the puppet is drawn on or off the stage is the royal
authority, which is not likely to be broken by the measures now on foot.
Abundance of those that appear to be his greatest opponents would be very
sorry to see him crushed; many others would be very glad to see him get
off; not one endeavours to ruin him entirely. You may get clear of the
difficulty that embarrasses you by a door which opens into a field of
honour and liberty. Paris, whose archbishop you are, groans under a
heavy load. The Parliament there is but a mere phantom, and the Hotel de
Ville a desert. The Duc d'Orleans and the Prince have no more authority
than what the rascally mob is pleased to allow them. The Spaniards,
Germans, and Lorrainers are in the suburbs laying waste the very gardens.
You that have rescued them more than once, and are their pastor, have
been forced to keep guards in your own house for three weeks. And you
know that at this day your friends are under great apprehension if they
see you in the streets without arms. Do you count it a slight thing to
put an end to all these miseries? And will you neglect the only
opportunity Providence puts a into your hands to obtain the honour of it?
Take your clergy with you to Compiegne, thank the King for removing
Mazarin, and beg his Majesty to return to Paris. Keep up a good
correspondence with those bodies who have no other design but the common
good, who are already almost all your particular friends, and who look
upon you as their head by reason of your dignity. And if the King
actually returns to the city, the people of Paris will be obliged to you
for it; if you meet with a refusal, you will have still their
acknowledgments for your good intention. If you can get the Duc
d'Orleans to join with you, you will save the realm; for I am persuaded
that if he knew how to act his part in this juncture it would be in his
power to bring the King back to Paris and to prevent Mazarin ever
returning again. You are a cardinal; you are Archbishop of Paris; you
have the good-will of the public, and are but thirty-seven years old:
Save the city, save the kingdom."

In short, the Duc d'Orleans approved of my scheme, and ordered me to
convene a general assembly of the ecclesiastical communities, and to get
deputies chosen out of them all, and go with them to Court, there to
present the deputation, which should request the King to give peace to
his people and return to his good city of Paris. I was also to endeavour
by the aid of my friends to induce the other corporate bodies of the city
to do likewise. I was to tell the Queen that she could not but be
sensible that the Duke was in good earnest for peace, which the public
engagements he was under to oppose Mazarin had not suffered him to
conclude, or even to propose, while the Cardinal continued at Court; that
he renounced all private views and interests with relation to himself or
friends; that he desired nothing but the security of the public; and that
after he had the satisfaction of seeing the King at the Louvre he would
then with joy retire to Blois, fully resolved to live in peace and
prepare for eternity.

I set out immediately with the deputies of all the ecclesiastical bodies
of Paris, nearly two hundred gentlemen, accompanied by fifty men of the
Duke's Guards. The number of my attendants gave such umbrage at Court,
where it was ridiculously exaggerated, that the Queen sent me word I
should only have accommodation for eighty horses, whereas I had no less
than one hundred and twelve for the coaches alone. If I had known as
much when I went as I heard after I returned, I should have hesitated
about going, for I was told that some moved for arresting me, and others
for killing me. However, the Queen received me very well; the King gave
me the cardinal's hat and a public audience.

I told the Queen, in a private audience, that I was not come only as a
deputy from the Church of Paris, but that I had another commission which
I valued much more, because I took it to be more for her service than the
other,--that of an envoy from the Duc d'Orleans, who had charged me to
assure her Majesty that he was resolved to serve her effectually and
without delay, as he had promised by a note under his own hand, which I
then pulled out of my pocket. The Queen expressed a great deal of joy,
and said, "I knew very well, M. le Cardinal, that you would at last give
some particular marks of your affection for me."

The Queen told me that she thanked the Duke, and was very much obliged to
him; that she hoped and desired he would contribute towards making the
necessary dispositions for the King's return to Paris, and that she would
not take one step but in concert with him. At the same time I heard that
the Queen spoke disdainfully of me, whom she dreaded, to my enemies at
Court; pretended that I had owned Mazarin was an honest man, and
ridiculed me for the expense I had put myself to on the journey, which,
indeed, was immense for so short a time, because I kept seven open
tables, and spent 800 crowns a day.

When I returned to Paris I was received with incredible applause. The
King also came thither on the 21st of October, and was welcomed by the
acclamations of the people. The Queen received me with wonderful
respect, and bade the King embrace me, as one to whom he chiefly owed his
return to Paris; but orders were sent to the Duc d'Orleans to retire next
morning to Limours.

When I went to see him, he was panic-struck, and imagined it was only a
feint to try his temper. He was in an inconceivable agony, and fancied
that every musket which was let off by way of rejoicing for his Majesty's
return was fired by the soldiers coming to invest his palace. Every
messenger that he sent out brought him word that all was quiet, but he
would believe nobody, and looked continually out of the window to hear if
the drums were beating the march. At last he took courage to ask me if I
was firm to him, and after I had assured him of my fidelity he desired
that, as a proof of my attachment and affection for him, I would be
reconciled to M. de Beaufort. "With all my heart," said I. Whereupon he
embraced me, then opened the gallery door by his bedchamber, and out came
M. de Beaufort, who threw himself about my neck, and said, "Pray ask his
Royal Highness what I have been saying to him concerning you. I know who
are honest men. Come on, monsieur, let us drive all the Mazarins away
for good and all." He endeavoured to show both the necessity and the
possibility of it, and advised the raising of barricades next morning, by
break of day, in the market-places.

The Duc d'Orleans turned to me and said, as they do in Parliament, "Your
opinion, M. Dean." I replied: "If I must give it as Dean, there never
was more occasion for the forty hours' prayers than now. I myself stand
in need of them more than anybody, because I can give no advice but what
must appear very cruel and be attended with horrid inconveniences. If I
should advise you to put up with the injurious treatment you undergo,
will not the public, who always make the worst of everything, have a
handle to say I betray your interest, and that my advice was but a
necessary consequence of all those obstacles I threw in the Princes' way?
And if I give it as my opinion that your Royal Highness should follow the
measures which M. de Beaufort proposes, shall I not be accounted one who
blows hot and cold in a breath?--who is for peace when he thinks to gain
his advantages by the treaty, but for war when he is not permitted to
negotiate?--one who is for destroying Paris with fire and sword, and for
carrying the flames to the gates of the Louvre by attacking the very
person of the King? If you obey, you will be responsible to the public
for all it may suffer afterwards. I am no competent judge of what it may
suffer in particular; for who can foresee events depending on the
caprices of a cardinal, on the stormings of Ondedei, the impertinence of
the Abbe Fouquet, and the violence of Servien? But you will have to
answer for all, because the public will be persuaded that you might have
prevented it. If you do not obey, you may go near to overturn the
realm."

Here the Duke interrupted me eagerly, and said, "This is not to the
purpose; the question is whether I am in a condition, that is, if it is
in my power, to disobey."

"I believe so," I said; "for I do not see how the Court can oblige you to
obey, unless the King himself should march to Luxembourg, which would be
a matter of great importance."

"Nay," said M. de Beaufort, "it would be impossible."

I then perceived that the Duke began to think so too, for it fitted his
humour, as he could not endure taking any pains, and, upon this
supposition, resolved to stay at home with his arms folded. I said:

"You are able to do anything to-night and tomorrow morning, but I cannot
answer how it may be in the evening."

M. de Beaufort, who thought that I was going to argue for the offensive,
fell in roundly with me to second me; but I stopped him short by telling
him he mistook my meaning.

"I shall never presume," said I, "to give advice in the condition things
are now in. The Duke himself must decide, and even propose, too, and it
is our business to perform his commands."

Then he said, "If I should resolve to brave it out, will you declare for
me?"

"Yes," I said, "it is what I ought in duty to do. I am attached to your
service, in which I shall certainly not be wanting, and you need only to
command me. But I am very much grieved that, considering the present
state of affairs, an honest man cannot act the honest part, do what he
may."

The Duke, who was by nature good, but not very tender, could not help
being moved at what I said; the tears came into his eyes, he embraced me,
and asked me if I thought he could secure the King's person. I told him
that nothing was more impossible. I found at length that he was inclined
to obey, but he bade us keep our friends together in readiness, and to be
with him at break of day. However, he set out for Limours an hour sooner
than he had told us, and left word that he had his reasons for so doing,
which we should know another day, advising us, if possible, to make our
peace with the Court.

On the 22d the King held his Bed of Justice, at the Louvre, where he
published the amnesty, as also an order for reestablishing the Parliament
at Paris, in which there was a clause forbidding them to meddle with
State affairs. At the same time he caused a declaration to be published
ordering MM. de Beaufort, Rohan, Viole, de Thou, Broussel, Portail,
Bitaud, Croissi, Machaut, Fleury, Martineau, and Perraut to depart the
city.

The Court now began to offer me terms of reconciliation. I was desirous
that as many of my friends as possible should be included; but Caumartin,
who was in the secret of affairs, told me there were no hopes of
procuring any advantages for particular persons; that all that could be
done was to save the ship for another voyage, and that this ship, which
was myself, could be saved in no other way, in the condition into which
our affairs were fallen by the Duc d'Orleans's want of resolution, but by
launching out into the main, and steering towards Rome. "You stand,"
said he, "as it were, on the point of a needle, and if the Court knew
their strength they would rout you as they do the rest; your courage
gives you an air that both deceives and disquiets them. Make use of the
present opportunity for obtaining what may be serviceable to you in your
employ at Rome, for the Court will deny you nothing."

Montresor, hearing of it, said to me afterwards, with an oath, "He is a
villain who says your Eminence can make your peace honourably without
making terms for your friends; he who affirms the contrary does it for
his own private ends." Therefore I refused the offers made me by
Servien, which were that the King would resign his affairs in Italy to my
care, and allow me a pension of 50,000 crowns; that I should have 100,000
crowns towards paying off my debts, and 50,000 in hand towards furniture;
that I should continue three years at Rome, and then return to resume my
functions at Paris.

The Princess Palatine told me I ought either to accept or else treat with
the Cardinal, since all the subalterns were against me. Madame de
Lesdiguieres advised me to preserve my equanimity and keep within doors,
adding that the Cardinal, who was impatient to return to Paris, but durst
not as long as I stayed, would make me a bridge of gold to go out and
agree to whatever I demanded. Accordingly, I sent my proposals to the
Cardinal, who was then lurking in Turenne's army upon the frontiers, and
desired such and such posts for my friends. Meantime Servien and the
Abbe Fouquet endeavoured to exasperate the Queen by telling her that I
was continually caballing with the annuitants and officers of the
militia; and because I refused to go to Parliament, in obedience to the
King's orders, when he held his Court of Justice there to register the
declaration of high treason against the Prince de Conde, the Queen was
made to believe that I was intriguing for the Prince, and therefore
resolved to ruin me, cost what it would. One officer posted men in a
house near Madame de Pommereux's, to attack me; another was employed to
get intelligence at what time of night I was in the habit of visiting
her; a third had an order, signed by the King, to attack me in the street
and bring me off dead or alive. An unknown person advised me not to go
that day to Rambouillet; but I went with two hundred gentlemen, and found
a great many officers of the Guards, who, whatever were their orders,
were in no condition to attack me, and received me with reverence; but I
blamed myself for it afterwards, because it only tended to incense the
Court the more against me.

Upon All Saints' Day I preached at Saint Germain, which is the King's
parish, where their Majesties did me the honour to be present, for which
I went next day to return them thanks; but finding that the cautions sent
me from all quarters multiplied very fast, I did not go to the Louvre
till the 19th of December, when I was arrested in the Queen's antechamber
by the captain of the Guards then in waiting, who carried me into an
apartment where the officers of the kitchen brought me dinner, of which I
ate heartily, to the mortification of the base courtiers, though I did
not take it kindly to see my pockets turned inside out as if I had been a
cutpurse. This ceremony, which is not common, was performed by the
captain; but he found nothing except a letter from the King of England,
desiring me to try if the Court of Rome would assist him with money. When
this letter came to be talked of, it was maliciously reported that it
came from the Protector. I was carried in one of the King's coaches,
under guard, to Vincennes. As we passed we found at several of the gates
a battalion of Swiss with their pikes presented towards the city, where
everybody was quiet, though their sorrow and consternation were visible
enough. I was afterwards informed, however, that all the butchers in the
veal market were going to take up arms, and that they might have made
barricades there with all the ease in the world, only they were
restrained for fear that I should have paid for their tumult with the
loss of my life; so that the women remained in tears, and the men stood
stock-still in a fright. I was confined at Vincennes for a fortnight
together, in a room as big as a church, without any firing. My guards
pilfered my linen, apparel, shoes, etc., so that sometimes I was forced
to lie in bed for a week or ten days together for want of clothes to
dress myself. I could not but think that such treatment had been ordered
by the higher powers on purpose to break my heart; but I resolved not to
die that way, and though my guard said all he could to vex me, I affected
to take no notice.

The influence of the clergy of Paris obliged the Court to explain itself
concerning the causes of my imprisonment, by the mouth of the Chancellor,
who, in the presence of the King and Queen, acquainted them that his
Majesty had caused me to be arrested for my own good, and to prevent me
from putting something that I designed into execution. The chapter of
Notre-Dame had an anthem sung every day for my deliverance. The Sorbonne
and many of the a religious orders distinguished themselves by declaring
for me. This general stir obliged the Court to treat me somewhat better
than at first. They let me have a limited number of books, but no ink
and paper, and they allowed me a 'valet de chambre' and a physician.

During my confinement at Vincennes, which lasted fifteen months, I
studied both day and night, especially the Latin tongue, on which I
perceive one cannot bestow too much pains, since it takes in all other
studies. I dived into the Greek also, and read again the ninth decade of
Livy, which I had formerly delighted in, and found as pleasant as ever. I
composed, in imitation of Boetius, a treatise, which I entitled
"Consolation de la Theologie," in which I proved that every prisoner
ought to endeavour to be 'vinctus in Christo' (in the bonds of Christ),
mentioned by Saint Paul. I also compiled "Partus Vincennarum," which was
a collection of the Acts of the Church of Milan for the use of the Church
of Paris.

My guard omitted nothing he could invent to make my life uneasy and
disturb my studies. One day he came and told me that he had received
orders from the King to give me an airing on the top of the donjon; and
when he perceived that I took a pleasure in walking there, he informed
me, with joy in his looks, that he had orders to the contrary. I told
him that they were come in good time, for the air, which was too sharp
there, had made my head ache. Afterwards he offered to take me down into
the tennis-court to see my guards at play. I desired him to excuse me,
because I thought the air would be too piercing for me; but he made me
go, telling me that the King, who took more care of my health than I
fancied, had ordered that he should give me some exercise. Soon after he
desired me to excuse him for not bringing me down again, "for reasons,"
said he, "which I must not tell." The truth was, I was so much above
these chicaneries that I despised them; but I must own that I used to
think within myself that, in the main, to be a prisoner of State was of
all others the most afflicting. All the relaxation I had from my studies
was to divert myself with some rabbits on the top of the donjon, and some
pigeons in the turrets, for which I was indebted to the continual
solicitations of the Church of Paris. I had not been a prisoner above
nine days when one of my guards, while his comrade who watched me was
asleep, came and slipped a note into my hand from Madame de Pommereux, in
which were only these words: "Let me have your answer; you may safely
trust the bearer." The bearer gave me a pencil and a piece of paper, on
which I wrote that I had received her letter.

Notwithstanding that three sergeants and twenty-four Life-guards relieved
one another every day, our correspondence was not interrupted. Madame de
Pommereux, M. de Caumartin, and M. de Raqueville wrote me letters twice a
week constantly about the means to effect my escape, which I attempted
twice, but in vain.

The Abbe Charier, who set out for Rome the day after I was arrested,
found Pope Innocent incensed to the highest degree, and ready to throw
his thunder upon the heads of the authors of it. He spoke of it to the
French Ambassador with great resentment, and sent the Archbishop of
Avignon, with the title of Nuncio Extraordinary, on purpose to solicit my
release. The King was in a fury, and forebade the Nuncio to pass Lyons.
The Pope told the Abbe Charier that he was afraid to expose his and the
Church's authority to the fury of a madman, and said, "Give me but an
army, and I will furnish you with a legate." It was a difficult matter
indeed to get him that army, but not impossible, if those that should
have stood my friends had not left me in the lurch.