CHAPTER XIV
Serious illness of the Duc d’Enghien—Tyranny exercised over him by Richelieu—An amusing anecdote—Death of the Cardinal—His will—Lawsuit between the Prince de Condé and the Duchesse d’Aiguillon—Enghien contemplates the dissolution of his marriage, neglects his wife, and devotes himself to Marthe du Vigean—He receives the command of the Army of Flanders, gains the brilliant victory of Rocroi, and takes Thionville—The Duchesse d’Enghien gives birth to a son—Indifference of the duke—He returns to Paris and endeavours to procure the dissolution of his marriage—But this project is frustrated by the interference of the Prince de Condé—Enghien is wounded at the battle of Nördlingen, and has a dangerous attack of fever—To the astonishment of his friends, he suddenly breaks off his tender relations with Mlle. du Vigean—Despair of the lady, who, in spite of the opposition of her family, enters the Carmelites of the Faubourg Saint-Jacques.
A few days after his marriage, the Duc d’Enghien fell dangerously ill, an event which was attributed by the Court to his despair at having been forced into an alliance so distasteful to him. Certainly, he behaved like a man who had little desire to live, and it was only with great difficulty that he could be persuaded to see the doctors whom Monsieur le Prince called in. At one time, his condition was so serious that hope was almost abandoned, but these apprehensions were fortunately unfounded, and in six weeks he was convalescent. His spirits, however, did not return with his strength, and he remained for some time in a state of profound melancholy, refusing to go into Society, or to receive his friends, and spending “the entire day and a part of the night” reading romances. At length, he succeeded in shaking off his lethargy, and on 13 May celebrated his return to health by giving a grand fête at Charonne to his sister and her fair friends, including, needless to say, Mlle. du Vigean.
The Cardinal, already irritated by the coldness with which Enghien had from the first treated his child-wife, in spite of the affection which she lavished upon him, was much displeased on learning of this entertainment, for, in his opinion, no society was more calculated to wean his nephew from the domestic hearth than that of these charming young ladies. He had another, and more serious cause for resentment against the young prince, in the fate which had befallen one Maigrin, a creature of his own, whom Condé, at his suggestion, had appointed comptroller of his son’s Household. Incensed by the surveillance which he suspected Maigrin of exercising over his actions, Enghien had inveighed against him in such violent terms before some of his confidential servants, that two of them, with the idea of pleasing their master, picked a quarrel with the unfortunate comptroller, and wounded him so severely that he died a few hours later.
The Cardinal, furious at the death of his protégé, wrote a very angry letter to the Prince de Condé, complaining bitterly of “the disorders and the want of dignity in M. d’Enghien’s Household,” and demanding that “his conduct should be aided and guided by a single mind.” The obsequious prince hastened to reply: “He is your creature: do with him what you will.” And the luckless Enghien found that he had escaped from the paternal control only to fall under the tyranny of Richelieu, who reorganized his Household, which he filled with persons devoted to his own interests, fixed the number of days which he was to spend in any one place, and regulated everything which concerned him down to the smallest details. No wonder that the young duke was glad when the time arrived for him to rejoin the army of Picardy, with which he took part in the sieges of Aire, La Bassée, and Bapaume!
Although Enghien’s manner towards his wife continued very cold, in other respects his conduct, during the remainder of the Cardinal’s life, gave his Eminence little cause for complaint. On one occasion only does he appear to have offended the great man, when, thanks to the diplomacy of Monsieur le Prince, he was enabled to make atonement. This was in the autumn of 1642, when, on his return from the campaign of Roussillon, he was so ill-advised as to pass by Lyons without visiting the Cardinal Alphonse de Richelieu, Archbishop of Lyons, and brother of the Minister. At the first interview which he had with the latter on his arrival in Paris, the Cardinal inquired after the health of his brother, and it became necessary to acknowledge that he had not been visited. The Cardinal made no remark, but, when the prince had departed, he gave full vent to his feelings, and vowed that he would make him regret the slight he had offered him. The Prince de Condé, informed of what had occurred, was terribly alarmed, and hastened to intercede for his son with the angry Minister, promising that he should make the fullest atonement; and when Enghien joined him at Dijon, he ordered him to return immediately to Lyons, and repair his fault. And so the delinquent found himself obliged to make a long journey in very bad weather, not to Lyons, but to Orange, whither the Cardinal Alphonse had gone, on purpose, it was said, to give the prince the trouble of going further in search of him.
A few weeks later (4 December, 1642), Richelieu succumbed to the one enemy whom he was unable to subjugate, in full possession of all the power and splendour for which he had laboured so unceasingly. Save to his family and his immediate followers, his death brought little regret, for all classes had felt his iron hand; and Enghien, who, since his marriage, had been subjected to such galling restraints, must have felt very much like a boy emancipated from the control of some stern and unbending preceptor. Now, at last, he was free to order his life as he pleased, to follow his taste for pleasure, and to indulge his passion for Mlle. du Vigean.
When the will which the Cardinal had executed some months before at Narbonne was opened, it was found that the Duchesse d’Enghien’s brother, Armand de Maillé-Brézé, had been left the duchies of Fronsac and Caumont, but that the duchess’s hopes—or rather the Condés’—were extinguished by the following clause:
“I make no mention in this will of my niece, the Duchesse d’Enghien, inasmuch as, by her marriage-contract, she has renounced her claim to my property, in consideration of the dowry I have bestowed upon her, and with which I desire her to be content.”
Tres-haulte & Tres puissante princesse Claire-Clemence de Maillé femme de Mouseigneur Louis de Bourbon Prince De Condé & Danguien par son tres humble serviteur Moncornet.
CLAIRE CLÉMENCE DE MAILLÉ-BRÉZÉ, PRINCESSE DE CONDÉ
FROM AN ENGRAVING BY MONCORNET
Great was the indignation of the haughty and greedy family into which poor little Claire-Clémence had entered on discovering that the Cardinal had strictly adhered to the conditions which he had imposed at the time of her marriage; and the Prince de Condé lost no time in embarking on a lawsuit against the Duchesse d’Aiguillon, in whose presence the will had been drawn up, and who had benefited largely under it, while her nephew, Armand de Vignerot, was the principal legatee. He pretended that the will had been dictated by the duchess and executed by the Cardinal under the influence of an incestuous passion, and ought, therefore, to be declared void; and counsel on both sides fairly surpassed themselves in the violence of their harangues. A first decision of the Court condemned the Duchesse d’Aiguillon to restore 400,000 livres; but there were so many points to be debated, and the gentlemen of the long robe found the business so very profitable, that it was not until the case had dragged its weary length along for more than thirty years, and Monsieur le Prince had been more than a quarter of a century in his grave, that the parties, weary of the interminable litigation, arrived at a settlement (May, 1674).
The Duc d’Enghien, if he eventually showed himself willing enough to profit by it, did not at first take any part in this scandalous lawsuit, and it was his father who directed all the proceedings. His abstention was probably due to the fact that now that the “All-powerful” was no more, he was seriously contemplating an attempt to get his marriage dissolved, on the ground that his consent had been obtained by force while he was still only a boy, after which he intended to marry Marthe du Vigean, and, in view of this, he felt that it would be as well for him not to appear in the case. While awaiting a favourable opportunity for getting rid of the matrimonial fetters, he neglected his poor little wife entirely, notwithstanding that she was now enceinte, and paid such assiduous attentions to the lady of his heart that they were soon the talk of the Court. Learning that the Maréchal de Guiche was about to demand Mlle. du Vigean’s hand for his son, the Marquis de Saint-Mesgrin, great-nephew of Henri III.’s mignon, he hastened to put a stop to this project, and showed himself so violently jealous of all the damsel’s admirers that they scarcely dared to approach her.
As for the duchess, she attempted no remonstrance, but went into retreat at the Carmelite convent in the Faubourg Saint-Jacques, where she remained until the departure of her husband for the wars.
Enghien had just received the command of the Army of Flanders, which had been promised him by Richelieu, in recognition of his fidelity to the Cardinal during the conspiracy of Cinq-Mars and of the submission to which ambition had lately prompted him. The Spaniards were laying siege to Rocroi, a town at the head of the Forest of Ardennes, poorly fortified and garrisoned, and of considerable strategic importance, since its fall would leave France open to invasion. Contrary to the advice of the Maréchal de l’Hôpital, who had been sent to restrain the fiery ardour of the youthful commander, and counselled him to be content with throwing reinforcements into the beleaguered town, he determined to give them battle without delay. The armies met in the plain before Rocroi in the early morning of 19 May, the same day and almost at the same hour as Louis XIII., who had died on the 16th, was laid to rest at Saint-Denis, and, mainly owing to a brilliant cavalry charge delivered by Enghien at a critical moment, the French gained a complete victory. The loss of the Spaniards was very great, while the whole of their baggage and artillery fell into the hands of the victors.
The news of the victory of Rocroi was received with frantic delight in Paris. On all sides nothing was heard but praises of the Duc d’Enghien: of his bravery, his military genius, his humanity towards the wounded, both victors and vanquished, and his magnanimity in demanding for his lieutenants all the rewards of victory, since he himself desired nothing but the glory. In a single day, he had become a popular hero. The enthusiasm abated only to burst forth again three months later, when intelligence arrived that Thionville had surrendered to the young general, and that the entrance to Germany, by way of the Moselle, lay open to the French.
A few days before Thionville fell, on the evening of 30 July, the little Duchesse d’Enghien gave birth to a very fine boy. “The size of this child is a marvel, in view of the smallness of the mother,” writes Perrault to Girard, secretary to the Duc d’Enghien, “and the doctors who have assisted her wonder at it, and are not less astonished at the facility of the accouchement, which has been such that one would suppose that this little one has never done anything else.”[186]
Monsieur le Prince at once sent off one of his gentlemen, named La Roussière, to announce the glad tidings to the duke; but Enghien showed no eagerness to express his paternal joy, and, instead of sending the messenger back, kept him to assist at the reduction of Thionville. Nor was it until after the town had capitulated, and Condé had despatched another messenger, informing him that the boy “resembled him and was the most beautiful in the world,” that he finally condescended to write a few lines to the young mother.
About the middle of November, the duke returned to Paris to receive the felicitations of his family and friends, and to resume his “chaste amours” with Mlle. du Vigean. His eulogistic historian Désormeaux declares that, on arriving at the Hôtel de Condé and perceiving his son, “his tender and magnanimous soul enjoyed a pleasure more dear and more pure than that of victory”; while the Gazette asserts that “to express the pleasure which his [Enghien’s] presence had occasioned the Prince de Condé and all his family would be as difficult as to represent the joy which the duke experienced at the sight of the son born to him in the midst of so many laurels and popular acclamations.”
It is, however, unnecessary to see in such testimony anything except the blind respect of a protégé of the Condés and the optimism of the editor of an official publication. For the family correspondence proves that, at this time, Enghien certainly gave no indication of the intense affection which he was to bestow upon his son in later years, and he took advantage of the fact that the Court was still in mourning for the late king to have him baptized without the customary rejoicings. The child, to whom Mazarin and Madame la Princesse stood sponsors, received the name of Henri Jules and took the title of Duc d’Albret.
If the poor Duchesse d’Enghien had anticipated that the birth of her son would prove a link between herself and her husband, she was doomed to disappointment, for she found herself more neglected than ever. Soon after her confinement, she had fallen so seriously ill that the duke had been able for a moment to count upon her death and to look forward to a honeymoon with Mlle. du Vigean; and it is to be feared that he received the news of her convalescence with very mixed feelings. Disappointed in the hope of receiving any assistance from Nature, he appealed to his mother to use her influence with the Regent to obtain the dissolution of his marriage, and found in her a willing ally.
Madame la Princesse, although she had never forgiven Richelieu the execution of her brother, Henri de Montmorency, whom all her prayers and tears had not sufficed to save, had raised no objection to her son’s marriage with his niece, and had, so long as the Cardinal lived, shown the girl every consideration. But, since the death of Richelieu, she seemed to have transferred to her innocent daughter-in-law the hatred she had vowed against the Minister, and sought to atone for the hypocritical attitude she had been forced to assume by treating her with the coldest disdain. The prospect of humiliating the family of the man whom she had regarded as her brother’s murderer naturally appealed to her, and she lost no time in approaching Anne of Austria on the subject.
The prestige of Enghien was just then so great that it was difficult for the Regent and Mazarin to refuse him anything, and, though Anne expressed her disapproval of the project in unmistakable terms, and Mazarin was anxious to protect the niece of his benefactor, it is quite probable that they would eventually have yielded to pressure, and that the young duchess would have been repudiated by her unscrupulous husband, if the Prince de Condé had not intervened in her favour.
To his honour, be it said, Monsieur le Prince had never wavered in his loyalty to the compact which he had made with Richelieu over the Cardinal’s niece. If it were not in his nature to show the girl much affection, he understood, at least, how to constitute himself her protector, and had not ceased to employ every means to bring back his son to a wife who was so worthy of his affection. Informed by his daughter, the Duchesse de Longueville—who, though she had hitherto been the sympathetic confidante of her brother and Mlle. du Vigean, had declined to be a party to so discreditable an intrigue—of the projects which were being discussed in his family, he showed the utmost indignation. Sending for Enghien and Mlle. du Vigean, “he said a thousand cruel things to both lover and mistress,” after which he advised the duke to return to his military duties as speedily as possible. The latter obeyed, and, shortly afterwards, bade a touching farewell to his lady-love[187] and set out for the army.
In August 1544, Enghien added to the laurels he had gained at Rocroi in three days’ sanguinary fighting before Freiburg, and a year later gained the victory of Nördlingen over the Imperialists. In the latter engagement he was wounded, and an attack of fever which supervened nearly cost him his life. In the autumn he returned to Paris, in a very weak state of health, when, as a general rule, man is particularly susceptible to feminine blandishments. The astonishment of his friends and the despair of poor Mlle. du Vigean may, therefore, be imagined, when it was perceived that he seemed to regard the girl whom he had once so passionately loved with as much indifference “as if he had never heard her voice.”
To what are we to attribute so sudden a revulsion of feeling? The ingenuous Désormeaux ascribes it to the fact that “his love had vanished with the prodigious quantity of blood that had been taken from him”; others to the effect of the paternal remonstrances. But the most probable reason is that, with increasing years and experience of life, common-sense had at last asserted itself, and that, in despair either of obtaining the dissolution of his marriage or of overcoming the virtuous scruples of his inamorata, he had decided no longer to abandon himself to a passion which could have no other result than that of troubling his peace of mind.
It is possible, however, that he may have been prompted by a more worthy motive. Finding that his equivocal attentions had somewhat compromised the lady, while, on the other hand, her devotion to himself had caused her to reject the honourable advances of more than one highly eligible suitor, he may at length have awakened to a sense of the selfishness of his conduct and have determined to yield his place to some one with a better right.
If such were the reason of his withdrawal, the sacrifice was a vain one. Marthe du Vigean, though she permitted no complaint to escape her, remained inconsolable. She turned a deaf ear to Saint-Mesgrin and other suitors, who crowded round her as soon as the brusque retreat of Enghien was known, and resolved to become the bride of the Church. Lest, however, the resolution which she meditated should be deemed by the world the “outcome of grief or of mortification,” she took no immediate steps to carry it out, and for some time continued to receive the visits of her friends, even of those who had been the witnesses of her passion. But, at length, in the summer of 1647, ignoring the counsels and entreaties of her relatives, she quitted her father’s house and took refuge with the Carmelites of the Rue Saint-Jacques, whither the poor little Duchesse d’Enghien had been accustomed to repair, on account of her, to appease her jealousy and find resignation. Anne du Vigean, the future Duchesse de Richelieu, in a letter to her brother, the Marquis de Fors, gives an interesting picture of her sister’s last days in the world:
“... We went to Rueil, where we spoke every day of the affair [Marthe du Vigean’s resolution to become a nun], and where many tears were shed; and the conclusion arrived at was that, at any rate, nothing should be done for six months, my mother hoping, in asking this delay of her, that she might be able to induce her to alter her mind. Finally, we returned here, because I was very ill; I had fever so badly that I did not move from my bed. One fine day, she said to me: ‘Sister, I shall not give them all the time I promised, for I shall go before another week has passed!’ I begged her to give me time to write to my mother, in order that she might come and speak to her, since I was not strong enough to retain or to counsel her. I wrote, accordingly, ill though I was. In the meanwhile, I had sent to the Hôtel de Longueville to learn your news [the news from the army], because I had been told that a courier had arrived, and Madame de Longueville wrote to me to send for it; and at the end of her letter she asked my sister to go and see her. She went out, therefore, to go thither, and when she had gone half the distance, told her people that she must turn aside to the ‘Grandes Carmélites,’[188] but that she had only a word to say to them. She made them turn her carriage and went thither, where she is still and does not intend to come out. My mother arrived an hour later.... My father wished to kill every one, all the Missionaries and Carmelites in the world, but he is beginning to be somewhat appeased. I go to see her every day; she is merry and resolute, and watches me weeping without shedding a tear.”[189]
Marthe du Vigean seems to have been very happy in her new life, and declared that she would not change her condition to be empress of the whole world.[190] She made profession in 1649, and took the name of Sœur Marthe de Jésus. She held the office of sub-prioress from 1659–1662, and died three years later, at the age of forty-four.
The peace of the cloister had descended upon her, but the memory of her grace and beauty lingered long in the world she had quitted:
“Lorsque Vigean quitta la Cour,
Les Jeux, les Grâces, les Amours
Entrèrent dans le monastère.
Laire la laire, lon lère
Laire la laire, lon la.
Les Jeux pleurèrent ce jour-là;
Ce jour-là la beauté se voilà
Et fit vœu d’être solitaire[191]
*****”
The man whom she had loved with such devotion did not seek to see her again, but always preserved for her “a recollection full of respect.”[192]