A general amnesty was now offered to the people of Bordeaux if they would surrender to the King. To this they agreed; and a passport was granted to enable the Princesse de Condé to retire with her son wherever she might choose. Claire-Clemence, for a moment, was undecided whether to join her husband or to go to Flanders. She chose the latter course. She had to part, however, with her elder—now her only—son, the Duc d’Enghien, whose education was committed into the hands of the Jesuits at Antwerp. Broken in health and spirits, she left for Valenciennes, accompanied only by her secretary, the faithful Lenet, and a small suite. Nor was the news which she received from her husband of a nature to restore her health. The success which had hitherto always accompanied him when fighting for his country seemed to have entirely abandoned him since he raised his sword against France. Accused of high treason, abandoned with insufficient resources to meet his liabilities, and frequently prone upon a bed of sickness, we cannot but admire the man who succeeded in facing such terrible trials. More than once he had to rectify grave errors committed by the Spanish generals, even by Don Juan of Austria himself, who was regarded in Spain as a conquering hero.

Mazarin, having succeeded in putting down the civil war, could now turn his attention to the struggle with Spain; and at length the two armies faced one another on the Dunes, near Dunkirk. The Spaniards were led by Condé, the French by Turenne. The hero of Rocroy, so famous for his own strategic powers, as he surveyed the two armies, was struck by the excellent dispositions of Turenne. Addressing himself to a young Englishman who was in his camp, he said, “Have you ever seen how a battle is lost?” “No,” answered the youth. “Well, in less than half an hour you will see such an event,” was Condé’s grave response. His prediction was verified; and Dunkirk was captured by the French, although Condé, with great skill, succeeded in limiting the extent of his rival’s victory.

The result of this battle was the famous “Peace of the Pyrenees,” signed at Münster on November 7, 1659 by Mazarin and Louis de Haros, minister of Philip IV. Amongst the more particular clauses of this Peace was a marriage contract, arranged between Louis XIV and the Infanta Maria Theresa, which had far-reaching consequences. Another stipulation made by Spain was that Condé should be allowed to return to France, and be reinstated in all his rights as a Prince of the Blood. His implacable enemy Mazarin opposed this at first, but through the prayers of his wife and his sister Geneviève de Bourbon the Grand Condé was finally allowed to return home. After having exercised so pernicious an influence over her brother during the second Fronde, and after having brought upon him so many disasters, Geneviève, on the death of her husband, the Duc de Longueville, turned her attention to religion, and retired to the convent at Moulins, where the widowed Marie Felice, last Duchesse de Montmorency, still mourned her dead spouse.

Condé’s letters, whereby he promised fidelity to the King and engaged to live on good terms with the Cardinal, preceded him. Madame de Longueville had, moreover, made great preparations for her brother’s return to Court; whilst Conti, who, as already mentioned, had meantime married one of Mazarin’s nieces, arranged the first meeting between the Prince and the powerful Minister. He was welcomed by the Queen, and presented his respects to the King; and on the following day the Gazette de France announced that he had dined with His Eminence Cardinal Mazarin.

That Condé was truly sorry for having raised his sword against his own country, is proved by the following remark: “When Mazarin had me imprisoned, I was innocent; but I came out of prison the most culpable of men.”

From Paris the Prince went straight to his residence at Saint-Maur to meet Turenne, who appeared at first embarrassed on seeing him. Condé, however, at once addressed his rival in a most friendly manner, and asked his advice regarding the repatriation of his soldiers, many of whom were Swiss and Germans who declined to enter the French army.

When presently Louis XIV made his entry into Paris the Prince de Condé and the Duc d’Enghien appeared amongst the Royal retinue, whilst the Princesse de Condé sat in the State coach with the Queen.

Yet, although established once more as a Prince of the Blood, with all the prerogatives and appurtenances of his rank—even his Government of Burgundy—many years had still to pass before Condé could regain the entire confidence of the King. Nor did Mazarin ever cease to distrust him. And when, before his death, the Minister presented him with a valuable diamond ring, assuring him of his sincere friendship, it was merely a proof of his own power of dissimulation; for, with his last breath, he warned the King to protect his crown from the insatiable ambition of the Grand Condé.

If Condé had hoped to play a prominent part in the public affairs of France after the death of Mazarin, he was mistaken; for the young King, himself full of ambition, announced at the outset that he meant henceforth to rule alone. In accordance with his famous saying “L’Etat c’est moi” Louis now began to reign himself.

For Condé retirement from public life had come too early. His sword which had rendered such great services to France was no longer needed; and he therefore retired to his Château at Chantilly. Here he almost immediately began to make extensive restorations, the completion of which occupied over twenty years, and greatly changed the aspect of the old place, so long abandoned and unoccupied. The financial difficulties in which he found himself on his return were happily overcome by Gourville, who acted energetically as his agent. The celebrated Le Nôtre was called in to lay out the gardens; the vast grounds were converted into parks, interspersed by the charming pieces of water which still exist. With great ingenuity a channel was dug to receive the waters of the streamlet Nonette, an affluent of the Oise, and a hydraulic machine invented by Condé himself—who was as skilled an engineer as he was a soldier—was constructed by Le Manse, under whom all these wonderful waterworks were kept in order. The courtyard which forms the present entrance to the Château dates from that time.

Letters have come down to us in which Condé expresses to Le Nôtre the highest satisfaction with his work. The latter was quite overcome by the Prince’s appreciation, and replied to him: “Jamais l’Honneur que je receu d’embraser nostre Saint Pere, le pape, et de baiser sa mule ne m’a fait tant de bien ny donne tant de joie que celle que je ressenty par la bonté que vous avez eu de me donner le benefice que votre Altesse a refusé a tant de testes couronnees.... Je continueray a eslever mes pensées pour l’embellissement de vos parterres, fontaines, cascades de vostre grand jardin de Chantilly.”

In 1684 Mansart was entrusted with the entire transformation of the interior of the Petit Château; the first floor being arranged for the use of the Grand Condé, whilst the ground floor was reserved for his son, the Duc d’Enghien. The exterior of this exquisite building was fortunately left intact, and has remained unchanged since the time of Anne de Montmorency. Nor has the interior changed since Mansart’s alterations. When the visitor passes through these apartments to-day, he can feel that they are in the same state as when the Grand Condé dwelt there. The Grand Cabinet with its exquisite Beauvais tapestry, its Boulle table, and its Louis XVI consoles and lustres, and the Petit Cabinet where the victor of Rocroy came to rest from his labours, still exist, to recall their former owner. In an adjacent apartment we may admire a fine piece of furniture, companion to the famous Louis XV bureau in the Louvre, upon which is placed the Grand Condé’s own despatch-box. Then there is the Long Gallery, where the painter Sauveur Lecomte has illustrated, under the hero’s own directions, all his victories from the battles of Rocroy, Nördlingen, and Fribourg to the conquest of the Franche Comté, and the campaign and passage of the Rhine.

Mansart, once installed at Chantilly, did not leave it for many years. He unfortunately attempted to tamper with the old feudal castle of the Orgemonts and the mediæval architecture which combined so well with Montmorency’s Petit Château, creating an inordinately lofty building, with a straight line of innumerable windows and attics all precisely similar in form. It was this structure which was razed to the ground at the time of the Revolution, and which was reconstructed in a far more suitable style by the late Duc d’Aumale.

CHAPTER VI

FESTIVITIES AT CHANTILLY

The union that she would have preferred was one with Mademoiselle d’Alençon, youngest daughter of Gaston d’Orléans, a Princess whom Henri Jules often saw and greatly admired, for the Orléans family at that time lived in the sumptuous Palais d’Orléans, not far from the Palais Condé, which was built on the site now occupied by the Odéon Théâtre. But the Princess could not prevail upon her masterful husband, who had not only taken his son’s education, but also his entire future, into his own hands. The brave lady, who had played so important a part during the Fronde, and had shown so much courage and determination under her many difficulties and trials, had at this time completely broken down in health. She only appeared at Court festivities at long intervals, and although she was present at her son’s marriage she did not join the young couple at Chantilly. The Grand Condé, surrounding himself with friends, lived there from choice; and there Anne de Gonzague paid him frequent visits, whilst Claire-Clemence was left neglected in Paris. Society soon followed suit; and such neglect and isolation told upon a constitution naturally delicate. This Princess, once so full of admiration for her hero, now began to cherish resentment against him; and she who for long years had, in spite of his neglect, never uttered one word of complaint, at last broke out into bitter recrimination. We gather from Condé’s letters that she suffered from violent fits of passion, and that a secret fear lest he should make away with her became more and more a fixed idea. It is said, however, that when she appeared at the baptism of the Dauphin her attitude was full of dignity and commanded involuntary respect. Two years after this an unfortunate incident happened, never entirely explained, which reduced Claire-Clemence to imprisonment for the rest of her life. Condé had compelled her to dismiss a page, named Duval, who had been in her service. She had, however, promised him a pension which it seems was left unpaid. One day, whilst the rest of the servants were at their meals, he penetrated into the Princess’s apartments to beg for his pension. His voice was heard by the page on duty in the next room, who at once entered the chamber in order to protect Her Highness from his importunities. A violent quarrel arose between the two men, and the Princess, in her endeavours to separate them, was severely wounded. When the rest of the servants, on hearing the noise, rushed into the apartment, Her Highness was found unconscious on the floor. This was the version put about in Paris; but Condé, on being informed of it, was beside himself with rage, and caused Duval to be arrested and condemned to the gallows.

Condé, so magnanimous alike to friends and enemies, in this instance behaved most brutally to his wife, and availed himself of this opportunity to get rid of her. Instead of defending her against a scandal which increased day by day from its very mystery, he himself heaped calumny upon her. He immediately left Chantilly for Paris, and without visiting the Princess his wife, went straight to Louis XIV and demanded a lettre de cachet against her. The King, however, with greater humanity, refused his request; upon which Condé returned to Chantilly in great wrath and contrived another scheme. He concocted a document under which the Princess consented to transfer all her property to her son during her lifetime; which deed he persuaded the Duke to present to his mother for signature. There was, however, a clause under which Her Highness was to retain a right of disposal over her jewels. By this scheme he proposed to induce her to retire altogether from the world without offering any defence.

Abandoned by her husband, robbed by her own son—who actually did persuade her to sign the above-mentioned instrument—the unfortunate Princess found herself no longer the courageous woman that she once had been. Instead of rebutting the wicked calumnies which attacked her honour, she merely endeavoured to save the unworthy Duval from the guillotine—a wretch who, under torture, uttered confessions compromising the Princess, which were, however, considered by the Parlement as inconclusive. Condé, furious with his wife as the cause of all this scandal, again demanded of Louis XIV a lettre de cachet and this time secured it. Her very generosity on behalf of the accused Duval was employed as a pretext for separation; and crushed and broken in health and spirits, she was transported one morning to the fortress of Châteauroux. In the presence of her son, the Duc d’Enghien, she said to the curé of Saint-Sulpice, who was her confessor: “This is the last time that I shall be able to talk to you, for I shall never return from the place where the King is pleased to send me. Nevertheless the confession which I have made to you will always prove my innocence.” Embracing her son for the last time, she fainted away; and in that state she was conveyed to the carriage which was to transport her to the distant castle of Châteauroux, where she was to be buried for the remainder of her life. No news of the outer world ever reached her, and even her only child never visited her. This barbarous treatment, this cruel seclusion, brought on hallucinations, during which it is said that she was haunted by the image of her husband. Châteauroux, a gloomy fortress with numerous towers, inspired her with terror; and there were even rumours that she was ill-treated by her gaolers. Madame de Longueville was the only member of the Condé family who showed any pity for this poor, forlorn woman, and she expressed a wish to visit her; but Condé, unrelenting, refused her permission. He sent, however, Père Tixier to ascertain whether she had all she needed, who reported that she seemed to be in constant terror lest the food offered to her might contain poison. Through many long years she dragged on a sad life in this cruel solitude; and not even the news of her husband’s death, whom she outlived by several years, reached her. Unrelenting to the last, Condé is said to have written on his death-bed a private letter to Louis XIV, desiring him as a favour never to release Claire-Clemence. When at last death delivered her, she was buried in the little church of St. Martin, within the precincts of Châteauroux. Only a few Franciscan monks and some poor people of the neighbourhood, whom out of her own scanty resources she had continually assisted, attended at her funeral. Neither her son nor any of her relations were present. When, in 1793, this little church was restored, her remains were thrown to the winds, and not one of her descendants took the trouble to raise a protest. More than a century had to pass before even one voice was raised in defence of this cruelly wronged woman. Louis Joseph de Bourbon, the father of the last Condé, in his Biography of his famous ancestor, could not refrain from a severe condemnation of the cruelty with which the “Hero” had treated the wife who had shown so much courage and loyalty on his behalf.

The noble-minded Duc d’Aumale, in his History of the Princes de Condé, is also full of sympathy and appreciation for poor Claire-Clemence; although he endeavours to excuse the great Condé’s conduct towards her by explaining the repugnance he must have felt for Richelieu’s niece.

A curious circumstance which seems still further to enhance the tragic fate which befell Claire-Clemence is the indifference shown to her by her own nearest relatives. At the very time when she was pining away in the fortress of Châteauroux, not only her husband but her son also seems to have felt no pity nor care for her. At Chantilly, where Anne de Gonzague reigned supreme, festivity followed festivity, and it was she who received the crowds of guests who thronged to visit that delectable resort.

The visits to Fontainebleau, where, after the death of the Regent, the King so often shut himself up for hours together, are described as being very tame compared with those to Chantilly, where the time passed far more agreeably. Turenne and the Maréchal de Grammont were frequently invited. Also such celebrated men of letters as Boileau, Racine, Corneille, La Fontaine, and Molière found their way thither; for Condé took a great personal interest in their works, and helped and encouraged them considerably. Boileau was a specially welcome guest at Chantilly. Once, however, during an animated conversation with the Prince, he contradicted him in some statement; but noticing an angry look upon His Highness’s countenance, he became alarmed, and, making a profound bow, said: “Je serais toujours de l’avis de M. le Prince, surtout quand il aura tort”—a piece of tact which was much appreciated by his host, and disarmed his anger. Condé was also the first to recognise the greatness of Molière, and to protect him from his rivals. The Precieuses Ridicules were first acted at Chantilly, and the players were lodged there for over a week. When Louis XIV fell so passionately in love with Madame de Montespan, Molière wrote his poem Amphitryon, wherein he advises husbands to offer to Jupiter a share of their nuptial love—a work which he dedicated to the Prince de Condé. It was Boileau who brought Racine to Chantilly, and his tragedies were often performed there. Moreover, the Court itself paid prolonged visits to the Grand Condé, and thither thronged all the most distinguished personages in Europe. Madame de Sévigné, in her famous Letters, describes the “delices” of Chantilly; and descriptions of festive gatherings of all kinds held there are frequently to be found throughout the records of the period. The Gazette devoted many columns to details regarding pleasure and hunting parties and lunches at the Maison de Sylvie.

In the month of April 1671 Chantilly opened its portals to receive Louis XIV and his bride, the Infanta Maria Theresa. The Château itself was reserved for the Royal party, whilst the courtiers and the officers of the suite were lodged throughout the neighbouring villages. Sixty tables were served three times a day; and it was during this Royal visit that Vatel, the maître d’hôtel, whose skill directed the whole, suddenly committed suicide because he was unable to provide the necessary fish on a fast-day. He was greatly mourned, especially by his master; but a substitute was soon found, who succeeded even better than his predecessor, so far eclipsing him, in fact, that his loss was soon forgotten.

Louis XIV was so charmed with this visit that he is said to have been inspired by Chantilly to create Versailles. “Mon cousin” he jokingly said to Condé when leaving, “il faut que vous me cédiez Chantilly.” To which Condé promptly replied, “Chantilly est aux ordres du roi. J’espère que sa majesté me nommera son concierge.”

CHAPTER VII

THE GRAND CONDÉ A WARRIOR ONCE MORE

It was in this spirit that Louis, accompanied by Turenne, marched into Flanders, and made Lille a French town; whilst Condé once more surprised the world by his conquest of the whole of Franche-Comté in less than a month. England, Holland, and Sweden, terrified at the young King’s ambition and the success of the French arms, promptly entered into a Triple Alliance, which arrested the conquering hero in full career and brought about the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, whereby he was forced to be content with Flanders alone. But such terms were scarcely calculated to satisfy the ambitions of either the King, his generals, or the French nation. Hostilities were therefore soon resumed. With an army of thirteen thousand men commanded by Condé and Turenne Louis advanced on Holland. He crossed the Rhine, devastating and conquering everything before him. No less than ninety-five towns and villages capitulated in ten days. Holland, conscious of her inability to resist, begged for peace, but the French, encouraged by their successes, refused to lend an ear to her entreaties.

It was then that William of Orange conceived the daring plan of submerging the whole of Holland by piercing the dykes. In this way the French were brought up short in their destructive course by an inundation which lasted over two years. Louis, obliged by these circumstances to postpone for a time the conquest of Holland, retired to Saint-Germain and left to Turenne the arduous task of remaining with the army. Condé, meanwhile, led the advance-guard with a rapidity which in less than nine days made him master of six strong fortresses on the Rhine; and it apparently only remained for him to cross the Yssel to where the young Prince of Orange was stationed. Once more he displayed remarkable military strategy in crossing this river at a point where he was unexpected: and two Dutch regiments ordered to oppose him were cut to pieces by overwhelming numbers, so that the French troops there and then crossed the Rhine without hindrance. Montbas, the Dutch General, accused of treason, was supplanted at the last moment by de Wirty, in order to shield William of Orange himself, who recognized his mistake too late.

This easy victory, however, was marred by an event which proved most unfortunate in its consequences. When the French squadrons had reached the opposite bank of the river Condé, with his son and his nephew, the Duc de Longueville, also crossed immediately in a boat, followed by their men and horses. The Princes, on landing, promptly threw themselves into their saddles, and riding ahead fell in with a small body of Dutch soldiers, who begged for mercy. The young Duc de Longueville, without waiting for the decision of his chief, cried out: “Pas de quartier,” and fired off his pistol. The Dutch promptly replied with a volley, one shot of which struck de Longueville and mortally wounded him, whilst another seriously injured Condé himself. The Prince and his dead nephew were immediately transported to a fisherman’s hut. By a strange coincidence, the mourners were met by the Ambassador of Poland, who had come to offer the crown of the Jagellons—refused by Condé for his own son—to the unfortunate young Duke.

Condé’s wound changed the course of the whole campaign, since it incapacitated him at the supreme moment when he might have reaped the full advantages of his victory. The wound healed but slowly, and his son, Henri Jules, could not replace him at the head of his troops. Time lost to the French was time gained by William of Orange, who, as has been said, conceived the heroic plan of inundating Holland, whereby the French military operations became impossible. The auspicious moment for invading Holland being thus lost, Condé travelled slowly back to Chantilly, where he found a much-needed rest, and by degrees recovered his health.

On his way back he had an interview at Port Royal with his sister, the Duchesse de Longueville, who, on hearing of her bereavement, gave way to long but silent grief; and, retiring from the world, passed her days in prayer and fasting for the repose of the soul of her dead son. Subsequently she became a devout Jansenist.

Louis’ ambitious plans to conquer Europe, frustrated for the moment, had now roused Spain, Denmark, and some of the German Princes to take up arms to prevent possible renewed attacks upon their territories; and two great soldiers came forward to keep guard upon the Rhine: William of Brandenburg (a hero himself and ancestor of heroes), and Montecucoli (so named after his feudal castle), who took the command of the Imperial troops. Condé, hardly yet recovered, was summoned by his sovereign, and was requested once more to operate in the Netherlands. William of Orange began by attacking the French army at Senef, and in spite of the “fougue” of Condé the battle remained undecided. Turenne, meanwhile, was manœuvring on the Rhine against Montecucoli, who was marching on Alsace; he succeeded in repulsing the Imperial troops near the Neckar, taking Heidelberg and Mannheim, and forcing his way into the Palatinate. Suddenly, however, he had to change his tactics owing to the unexpected appearance of the Margrave of Brandenburg; and the French commander’s plans terminated in a campaign in Alsace, where he was victorious at Mulhouse and Schletstadt. In that same year he was also confronted by Montecucoli, and unfortunately met his death at Salzbach before any decisive battle had been fought. His loss was a severe blow to his soldiers. Condé was immediately sent for; and, inspired by the memory of the dead general, followed his tactics, and succeeded without a single battle in driving the Imperial troops back across the Rhine. This was precisely what the King and his minister, Louvois, desired; for Montecucoli was thus shut out of Alsace, and obliged to take up his winter-quarters on the far side of the Rhine. By these brilliant operations Condé preserved Turenne’s army, and terminated this great campaign, in which were engaged three of the most celebrated generals of the period: Montecucoli, the profound strategist, the sagacious Turenne, and the great Condé, who in the cause of France was always victorious.

These were his last exploits, and he returned to Chantilly, there to pass a life of peaceful quiet until his death in 1687. Madame de Sévigné, who was repeatedly invited to the Château, says in her Letters that Condé was quite admirable in his retreat, from which he only emerged occasionally to pay a visit to the King at Fontainebleau, Paris, or Versailles, where a splendid suite of apartments was always reserved for him. Chantilly at that time became a small Court in itself. Not only was it a resort for kings, princes, ambassadors, generals, and statesmen, who never omitted to pay their respects to the Grand Condé, but it was also a rallying-place for the most distinguished literary and scientific men of the day. Here Bossuet, Fénelon, and the philosopher Malebranche, the poets Corneille, Racine, and Molière discussed their works and their theories in that avenue in the park which to this day bears the name of “the Philosophers.”

The newest books and publications passed their first public ordeal at Chantilly; and at the theatrical representations which frequently took place there, the greatest actors of the day produced famous plays, or made their début. The Prince kept a special company of comedians in his own pay at Rouen for practice, so anxious was he that they should perform at Chantilly to the utmost perfection; and he himself distributed to them their various parts.

His interest in scientific discoveries was also very great, and he studied all the latest books upon these subjects. The humorous letters addressed to him upon such matters by that fantastic personage Bourdelot still exist. The famous waterworks at Chantilly, imitated later at Versailles, were to a great extent, as we have already remarked, planned and carried out according to his own designs. Nor was he lacking in artistic interest, for he made important additions to the collection of manuscripts founded by his ancestors, the Montmorencys; and during his stay in Holland he collected many Dutch pictures and some fine furniture, which may still be seen in his own rooms at the Petit Château. For him Charles Le Brun and Mignard worked assiduously, and some of the paintings by Paul Veronese, Guido, Guercino, the Carraccis, Van Dyck, and Antonio Moro which now adorn the walls of the Musée Condé were acquired by him.

His passion for the chase was notorious; and hunting and hawking in the woods of Chantilly were amongst his greatest pleasures. He revived the art of hawking, introduced into Europe from Arabia by the Crusaders, and he is said to have taken particular interest in his own hawks, conferring upon each of them individual names.

In concluding these notices on the life and character of the Grand Condé, we must not forget to mark a trait in his character which has perhaps not been hitherto so generally acknowledged: namely, a feeling that he owed it to family tradition to protect the Huguenots. When therefore Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes, and thereby caused an exodus of some of the best amongst his subjects, Condé, wherever it was possible, protected the persecuted Protestants; and Chantilly itself became a shelter for Huguenot fugitives.

Disappointed in his own son, Henri Jules de Bourbon—a man devoid of all ability, whose chief aim was to follow the Dauphin’s hounds—Condé in his old age attempted to take in hand the education of his grandson, the young Duc de Bourbon, and of his favourite nephew, François, Prince de Conti, left orphaned by the early death of his father. By these means he hoped to restore the glory of the race: for François de Conti had displayed military talent and great valour during the famous day of Steinkerque, where two horses were killed under him, and where he contributed greatly to the victory achieved by French arms. For the benefit of these two young men, Condé invited to Chantilly La Bruyère, who had been introduced to him by Bossuet, and engaged him to undertake their education. But the Duke, like his father, was too much attracted by the Court of Louis XIV. At a very early age his father arranged an alliance for him with Mademoiselle de Nantes, a daughter of the King by Madame de Montespan, and contemporary chronicles are filled with references to this child-marriage, which was celebrated with the greatest pomp; the bride being but thirteen and the bride-groom seventeen years of age. After the nuptials, the two children took their places in a state bed, supported on either side by their respective mothers: but as soon as festivities were over they were separated and only permitted to see each other in the presence of their relations. The new Duchesse de Bourbon was extremely handsome; but her husband was rather small and of an unamiable disposition. His shortcomings were, however, compensated for by the brilliant valour which he displayed at a subsequent period.

Bossuet himself was prevailed upon to give instruction to the young Duke. This famous prelate was always greatly admired by the Grand Condé. Upon one occasion we are told that he entered the Church of the Minimes, when the great philosopher happened to be preaching. Bossuet, who was arguing upon the vanity of the glories of this world to which Condé had sacrificed so much, suddenly perceived the hero among the audience. Whereupon, with his customary skill, on the spur of the moment he introduced an appropriate compliment by pointing out how the Prince de Condé, after having been so long the ornament of his century, was now also endeavouring to attain Eternal Life—an immortality more lasting than that which worldly fame affords.

In early life Condé had been a member of a society of free-thinkers, to which the Princesses Marie and Anne de Gonzague had also belonged. He had studied Spinoza, and had approved of his pantheistic doctrines; then, gradually leaving Spinoza, he took up Descartes. Later the example of his sister, Madame de Longueville—who, from leading a worldly life, had become a pious Jansenist—made a deep impression upon him: as did also the death of Anne de Gonzague, who, after a life of wildest excitement, had before her end become a sincere and devout penitent. In his old age he often sought the company of a friend of his early youth and college-days at Bourges, who had distinguished himself as a brilliant orator. Shortly before his death, in company with this friend, Condé went to receive the Holy Communion at his parish church of Saint-Sulpice; and on leaving was met by the plaudits of the people of Paris. His own adherence to the Catholic Faith did not, however, change his friendly attitude towards the Huguenots, nor did it alter in any way his mode of living at Chantilly. Madame de Langeron at that time did the honours of his house, and the freedom of thought which reigned there so much appreciated by men like La Bruyère and Bossuet, was never interfered with. Saint-Évremond sang Condé’s praise in the following characteristic verses:

Bossuet has described the last moments of the hero: “Such as he was in his warrior days, resolute, quiet, always occupied, without anxiety for what had to be done, such was he in his last hour. Nor did death seem to him any more repulsive or terrible now than in the midst of battle and victory.”

Whilst his family and friends shed copious tears as his end approached, he continued to give all necessary orders; and he remembered everyone, from the highest to the lowest of his friends and attendants, showering gifts upon them all with a munificence fully in accordance with his high rank and generous heart.

CHAPTER VIII

THE LAST CONDÉS

WHEN Henri Jules de Bourbon succeeded to the Condé inheritance, he continued with filial piety to carry out all the improvements and additions to Chantilly which his father had planned. François Mansart, the most fashionable architect of the period, had by that time nearly completed those unfortunate alterations which transformed the ancient feudal fortress into a species of Versailles. This Prince also built the parish church on a site presented by the Grand Condé to the inhabitants of the hamlet which had begun to form itself around the castle. He completed the menagerie and by his orders Mansart built an orangery ending in a pavilion called by him Le Pavillon d’Oronthée. Statues of the Grand Condé, of Bossuet, of Molière, of Le Nôtre, and of La Bruyère, executed by the most famous sculptors of the day, were placed along the Terrasse du Connétable; whilst marble copies of celebrated antiques were set up in the gardens and park. He spoke of Chantilly as “ses delices” and was never weary of planning improvements there. He also directed that the famous deeds of his father should be recorded on canvas by Sauveur Lecomte in accordance with directions left by that hero himself.

In 1688 the Prince de Condé entertained at Chantilly the Grand Dauphin, only son of Louis XIV, with whom he was on terms of great intimacy; and the apartments in the Petit Château occupied by that Prince were those once inhabited by the Grand Condé himself. A description of the entertainments given upon this occasion may be read in the Mercure de France of that year, as follows: “A great battue had been arranged, and the Dauphin appears to have been delighted by the enjoyment of such splendid sport. Luncheon was served on a big stone table in the middle of the forest.[12] On the centre of the table was placed a basket containing the most exquisite fruit, and during the repast mythological deities made their appearance whilst dances were performed to the sound of appropriate music. Every day—and the Dauphin remained for seven—some new diversion was contrived.”

As Henri Jules de Condé grew older he seldom left Chantilly. His temper became more and more violent and difficult; and during his last years he rarely appeared at Court. He died in 1709, leaving a legacy to the Hospital at Chantilly, which had been founded by his grandmother, Charlotte de Montmorency.

The Duc de Bourbon, generally known as Louis III, Prince de Condé, died soon after his father. Louise Françoise, his wife, had presented him with six daughters and three sons; of whom the eldest, Louis Henri, succeeded to the title of Prince de Condé at the early age of eighteen.[13] He, like his predecessors, also spent great sums on the embellishment of Chantilly. By him were built the great stables—a monument unique of its kind—in which vast buildings more than two hundred horses and packs of hounds for fox, deer, and boar hunts, were housed. In the adjoining courtyards were lodged their numerous attendants—piqueurs, chasseurs, and stable-boys—and the carriages, coaches, etc., needed for such an establishment. The central cupola of this stupendous edifice was originally adorned with a statue of La Renommée, but this was destroyed by a cannon-ball during the Revolution of 1792.

The famous Duchesse de Berry, daughter of the Regent and wife of the younger grandson of Louis XIV, passed a whole week at Chantilly as the guest of this Prince; and great magnificence was displayed for her entertainment. Saint-Simon in his Mémoires relates an incident which happened during these festivities. On the farther side of the grand canal the Duke kept a very beautiful menagerie, full of rare animals and fine birds; and whilst the company were strolling about and playing games in the grounds a huge tiger escaped and prowled about the gardens to the terror of the gay revellers. After some time, however, and fortunately before any accident had occurred, the beast was captured and induced to return to his cage.

In consequence of the numerous royal visits paid to him, Louis Henri entirely remodelled the interior of the Grand Château. The King’s Apartment was over the Museum; it extended from the Chapel to the so-called North Tower, and was composed of guard-rooms, long galleries, and vast chambers. That of the Queen was over the present Entrance-Hall, and ran as far as the Treasury towers. From it one could penetrate into the Chapel, which at that time was situated where is now the splendid staircase leading to the Museum.

During the time of this Prince the youthful Louis XV came to Chantilly from Reims. He arrived in the evening and the whole place was beautifully illuminated—so much so that “every detail of the building could be seen as if in broad daylight.” The festivities on this occasion were many and various. The chase during the day and in the evening performances by an Italian comedy company engaged for the occasion, and by a famous ballet which lasted four-and-twenty hours.

In 1723, after the death of the Regent, the Duc de Bourbon became Prime Minister of France. His wife, Anne Marie de Bourbon, had died and his mistress, the famous Marquise de Prie, reigned supreme—an even more fascinating, and certainly a more intelligent woman than the Montespans, Pompadours, and Du Barrys, who so completely succeeded in captivating the Bourbon Kings. She possessed a beautiful voice, with which she interpreted Italian music, learnt during her stay in Turin where her husband for many years had been ambassador. She also, like Madame de Pompadour, patronised art and had portraits of herself painted by Rosalba and Vanloo. Her house was furnished with exquisite taste, and she understood to perfection the arts of the toilet. At first she devoted herself to a life of pleasure, but she soon saw the wisdom of becoming her lover’s adviser-in-chief. In order to shield him against the intrigues of the Orleans family—as long as the King remained unmarried and without a nearer heir—she persuaded the Prime Minister that the Spanish Infanta, daughter of Philip V, who had been educated at the French Court and was intended to be the future Queen-Consort of France—though she was still a child of not much more than ten years old—should be sent back to her father. When this had been accomplished a marriage was speedily arranged with Maria Leczinska of Poland, although she was several years older than the young King. This act led to an immediate rupture with Spain and brought no political advantage to France. But in order to understand to the full the game played here by Madame de Prie, we should note that Maria Leczinska had been at first intended for Monsieur le Duc; wherefore by making her Queen of France she not only hoped to keep her lover to herself, but also to get ascendancy over the King through a queen whom she had helped to raise to so exalted a position. Somewhat unexpectedly, however, she found an implacable enemy in Cardinal Fleury, who was to Louis XV what Richelieu and Mazarin had been to his predecessors. He had been the young King’s preceptor and exercised a great influence over him. When it occurred to Fleury that he might become Prime Minister in place of the Duc de Bourbon the latter, notwithstanding the strenuous efforts of Madame de Prie, was compelled to yield and to resign on the charge that he had confided affairs of State to unqualified persons. He retired to Chantilly with his mistress, where, the lady received a most discourteous welcome from Madame la Duchesse Douarière; and to the grief and dismay of the Duke a lettre de cachet from the King presently commanded her to retire to a property in Normandy which belonged to her long-neglected husband. The Duc de Bourbon never ceased to regret her, because, as he asserted, he felt that she was so devoted to his interests as to have subordinated every other sentiment. She only survived her humiliation a few years; but it was some time after her death before the childless Duke thought of remarrying. His choice fell upon a young princess of Hesse Rhinfeld, whose eldest sister had married the King of Sardinia. The new Duchess, who was barely fifteen, was as beautiful and graceful as she was good. This marriage put an end to the disgrace into which the Duke had fallen at Court; and from that time Louis XV, who very much admired the young châtelaine of Chantilly, never went to Compiègne without paying her a visit on the way. In memory of these Royal visits he sent her a beautiful spray of diamonds, which the Duc de Luignes in his Mémoires values at seventy-two thousand francs. The same writer adds that in the month of August 1738 the King came to Chantilly for a stag-hunt; and that he arrived at the Château in a gondola, accompanied by four Court ladies. The Duke and Duchess received this gay party and supper was immediately served, but next morning the heat was so excessive that the stag-hunt had to be abandoned. At nine o’clock, however, His Majesty promenaded upon the terrace, while airs from well-known operas were sung to amuse him. The Queen, Maria Leczinska, also enjoyed strolling about the gardens and driving through the park, where all sorts of games were specially devised for her.

In 1740 the Duc de Bourbon fell ill and died rather suddenly. His young wife survived him barely a year; and their only son, Louis Joseph, then but five years of age, was left to the charge of his grandmother. She presented him soon after to Louis XV as Prince de Condé, and it was then remarked that he was very fair and tall for his age. His uncle, the Comte de Charolais, meantime administered the property at Chantilly with great judgment and skill on behalf of his nephew and ward.

The young Prince was taken to Chantilly by his uncle for the first time at the age of fourteen, and all sorts of amusements suitable for his age were prepared for his pleasure. He at once conceived a great affection for the place, which continued for the rest of his life.

When he attained the age of seventeen his uncle Charolais considered it time for him to marry, and proposed to him several suitable matches. At one of the entertainments given to further this end the young Prince’s choice fell on Charlotte de Rohan Soubise, a young lady renowned for her grace and beauty; and their marriage was celebrated at Versailles with great pomp. The young couple passed their honeymoon at Chantilly and, according to the chronicles of the old Château, they immediately commenced to display the traditional Condé taste for profuse hospitality. Balls, theatricals, garden-fêtes, etc., followed each other in quick succession for six weeks.