IV
In 1651 Mademoiselle was busy. She attended all the sessions of Parliament and all the seditious soirées of the Luxembourg. She urged the Frondeurs to violence, and as she was a magnetic speaker, her influence was great. Her leisure was given to the pleasures which Paris offers even in time of revolution. She accompanied the King in his walks and drives; she rode with him to the hunt; whenever he was in Paris they were together. Mademoiselle had again refused the hand of Charles II. of England. Charles was still waiting for his kingdom, but his interest in his future had been awakened; his mind had developed, and he had determined to enter into possession of his States.
Mademoiselle was courted and ardently admired. The people worshipped her, the popular voice echoed the spirit of the "Mazarinades" sung by the street singers. Paris was determined to place her upon the Throne of France. Well employed though her time had been, she had done nothing to distinguish herself, nothing to give her a place among heroines like the Princesse de Condé and the enticing Mme. de Longueville. But the year 1652 was on its way, and it was to bring her her long-awaited glory.
After an unsuccessful attempt to make peace, Condé had again taken the field and called his allies, the Spaniards, to his assistance. He had carried on his parleys as he had carried on his chastisement of the suburbs, and his exactions had confirmed hostilities. Maddened by his failure, he had set out with eyes flaming to break the spirit of the people and to turn the absolute power instituted by Richelieu to his own account. Monsieur sustained him against the King. Retz and a party of Frondeurs were trying to make an alliance with the Queen; they were ready to consent to everything, even to the return of Mazarin. Parliament was working for France upon its own responsibility; it opposed Condé as it opposed Mazarin. Mazarin had bought Turenne and led the army into the West to fight the rebels. Monsieur's appanage, the city of Orléans, was menaced by both parties, and it had called its Prince to its assistance. The people of Orléans had sent word to Paris that either Monsieur or Mademoiselle must go to Orléans at once: "If Monsieur could not go Mademoiselle must take his place." Mademoiselle heard the news and went to the Luxembourg to see her father. She reported her visit thus:
"I found Monsieur very restless. He complained to me that M. le Prince's friends were persecuting him by trying to send him to Orléans; he assured me that to abandon Paris would be to lose our cause. He declared that he would not go."
VICOMTE DE TURENNE
The evening of the day of the visit thus reported when Mademoiselle was at supper in her own palace, an officer approached her and said in a low voice: "Mademoiselle, we are too happy! it is you who are coming with us to Orléans."
Mademoiselle's joy knew no bounds. She passed the greater part of the night preparing for the journey. In the morning she implored the blessing of God upon her enterprise; and that done, went to the Luxembourg to take leave of her father. She appeared before Monsieur dressed for the campaign and followed by her staff. Under the helmets of her field marshals appeared the bright eyes of women. Inquisitive people, all eager to see Mademoiselle depart for war, had assembled in and around the Luxembourg. Some of Monsieur's friends applauded; others shrugged their shoulders. Monsieur was of too alert a mind to be blind to the ridiculous side of his daughter's chivalry, and though his affections were sluggish, he realised that he had set loose a dangerous spirit. He knew that Mademoiselle was an ardent enemy, that she was impetuous; that she cared nothing for public opinion; when once started what could arrest her progress? His paternalism overcame his prudence, and in a loud, commanding voice he ordered the astonished generals to obey Mademoiselle as if she were himself; then, dragging the most serious officers of his staff into a far corner of the room where Mademoiselle could not hear him, he commanded them to hold his daughter in leash and prevent her from doing anything important "without explicit orders from her father."
Mademoiselle was in high spirits; her fair hair was coiled under her helmet, her cheeks glowed, and her eyes blazed; the records of the day tell us that she was "every inch a handsome queen and soldier," that she was "dressed in grey," and that her habit was "all covered with military lace of pure gold." She took leave of her father amidst the hurrahs of the people, and all through the city her subjects wished her joy, called upon God to bless her arms, or blasphemously proclaimed that such a goddess had no need of the god of the priests. The day following her departure she was met by the escort sent forward in advance of her departure by the generals of the Fronde. She was received by them as chief of the army, and long after that time had passed with all its triumphs, she proudly noted the fact in her memoirs: