After this conversation, I was almost continually with Monsieur de Villardin, especially as, in all those exercises in which noblemen of that day held themselves bound to have their pages well instructed, I was already as skilful as necessary, and, consequently, had scarcely any other occupation than that of attending upon the Duke. In the pages' room matters soon assumed the state into which I could have wished them to fall. Master Gaspard de Belleville, the eldest of my three companions, submitted to necessity with a somewhat bad grace; and the two younger, as soon as they had become reconciled to me as their new comrade, and accustomed to my manners and accent, sought shelter under my protection from the tyranny of their former despot. The old major-domo ere long acquired a great affection for me; and as I was quite willing, from the novelty of the thing, to be petted as much as any one pleased, he made quite a favourite of me, providing me with all those little comforts and luxuries which the chief domestic of a great house has always at his disposal.
Monsieur de Villardin himself was, as Lord Langleigh had said, a man who let no moment slip past him unmarked by some event; and, with a spirit of restless activity,--not unlike what was my own at that time,--he took part in everything that was going on. By day he was either busy in the intrigues of his faction, or in the field with his troops; and even at night he was very often as busy in beating up the enemy's quarters, or in stirring up the Parisians to some new absurdity. In all his expeditions I formed one of his attendants: I had constant employment,--and both at home and abroad was as happy as I could wish.
This state of things, however, could not, of course, last for ever; and had no other circumstance occurred to interrupt its duration, the gradual recovery of Monsieur de Villardin from the madness of the Fronde would ultimately have put an end to it; but an incident soon happened, to which I shall now turn, and which eventually occasioned my departure from Paris rather faster than I approved of. The first treaty of peace which had been signed was indignantly rejected, as we have seen, by the Parliament, the populace, and the generals; and the deputies were again sent back to treat at Ruel. During their conferences, as an armistice had been refused, Monsieur de Villardin and others took care to amuse Mazarin by frequent excursions, which sometimes were pushed to the gates of St. Germain. Mazarin, always timid, made concessions in proportion to his alarm; but, at the same time, as he loved not the sort of arms with which the Parisian generals fought him, he took care to combat them with weapons peculiarly his own. Three fresh armies, as I have said, were directing their course towards Paris in support of the Parliament. In regard to the one promised from Normandy, the Cardinal tampered with the general, the Duke de Longueville, and delayed its march. In regard to the other, commanded by Turenne, knowing the chief to be incorruptible, Mazarin corrupted the men. The whole army was literally bought; and when its general was about to begin his advance upon the capital, he was at once abandoned by his troops. The third, consisting of Spaniards, the Cardinal well knew would not march without the others; and having thus placed himself on more equal terms with the Parisian leaders, he took advantage of the consternation which these events produced to press the treaty of peace, which was soon after concluded and ratified by all parties, but the populace, and one or two of the leaders who had too great a love of faction, in the abstract, to yield to any measure calculated to put it down. Thus, then, the war was brought to an end; but still so turbulent and disorganized was the state of Paris, that the Court dared not set foot within its walls; and, while the people were committing every sort of excess, and the most scandalous libels upon Mazarin and the royal family were every day published, the Parliament, in order to signalise their zeal for their new allies, the Court, proceeded against the authors and printers with the most tyrannical severity.
Of course my good friend Jacques Marlot could not escape, and I one day found old Jerome Laborde, the major-domo, in great affliction on account of his nephew, who had been arrested that morning for the publication of the famous attack upon the Queen, called "La Custode." It so happened that, by my master's permission, I passed the two following days at St. Maur, with Lord Masterton, who was kindness itself towards me; and on the third morning I was sent by the Duke, immediately after my return, to gain some intelligence in the Faubourg St. Germain. As I came back, I saw an immense crowd advancing rapidly towards the Place de Grève, and crying "Honte! honte! Aux Mazarins! aux Mazarins!" Running my eye a little forward, I soon perceived that the cause of the tumult originated in the procession of the criminal lieutenant and his archers towards the place of execution, whither they were carrying some condemned criminal to make his last public appearance in the most disagreeable manner. As it was evident that the principal personage on the scene was in favour with the public, I hastened forward to obtain a glance, when, to my horror and astonishment, I beheld the jovial face of my poor acquaintance, Jacques Marlot, still as jovial as ever, notwithstanding his endeavours to assume a sober and sedate demeanour under the very grave circumstances in which he was placed.
Every sort of mad enterprise was then as common as a hedge sparrow, and some evil demon put it in my head to rescue the unhappy printer from the hands of Monsieur le Bourreau.
Amongst the mob were a great number of printers' devils, booksellers' boys, and other shopmen; and speaking a word or two to those who seemed the most zealous, our plan was quickly arranged, and spread like wild-fire amongst the people. The crowd was every minute increasing; their cries and execrations were gaining new strength at each vociferation; and I saw Grani, the criminal lieutenant, turn his head more than once to scan the aspect of the very unwelcome train which now accompanied him. He soon, however, reached the gibbet in the Place de Grève, and poor Marlot turned,--with a face out of which even his rueful situation could not banish entirely habitual fun,--to pronounce, as usual, his last oration:--"My friends, my friends," he cried, "take warning! See what comes of a Mazarinade!"
The name acted as a watchword, and the moment it was pronounced, a well-directed volley of stones was let fly at the criminal lieutenant and his archers, who were not prepared for that sort of attack. One of the men was knocked down; the rest were thrown into confusion; and, taking advantage of the moment, we pushed on and charged the panic-struck officers of justice.[[2]] Some of the guards were felled to the earth; some of them fled as fast as their legs would carry them. The criminal lieutenant was beaten severely, and glad to escape with his life; Jacques Marlot was in an instant set at liberty, amidst the shouts and gratulations of the populace.
Feeling that I had perhaps done a foolish thing, and--from a knowledge of the delicate situation in which the Duke stood with the Court--more apprehensive of the consequences to him than to myself, I made as much haste as I could to get away quietly, without even staying to congratulate the printer on his deliverance. As we had completely put the archers to flight, and had quite satisfied them with their airing in the Place de Grève for one day, no one opposed me on my way home, and I found Monsieur de Villardin in the hall ready to go out on horseback, accompanied by the page I have mentioned under the name of Gaspard de Belleville. I had generally found it a good plan throughout my little life, whenever I had committed a fault which I was conscious might affect some other persons, to make them acquainted with it immediately, that they might be upon their guard against the consequences; and, following this rule, I at once went up to Monsieur de Villardin, and informed him that I believed I had done a very foolish thing.
"It is half repaired by acknowledging it so frankly," replied the Duke; "but what is it, my boy, that we may do the best to remedy it?"
Without farther circumlocution I informed him of the facts, which seemed to startle him a good deal.