As for Charlotte, to her romantic imagination, the prospect of sharing the fortunes of a prince who had experienced enough adventures to satisfy the most gluttonous of knight-errants, and who, if he had not yet achieved any very brilliant success, had supported his reverses with a fortitude which had gained him the admiration of even his enemies, could not fail to make a powerful appeal, and she looked forward with impatience to the conclusion of the negotiations.
On learning of the favourable reception of his overtures, Condé, who was besieging Brouage, lost no time in addressing to the Duchesse de Thouars a formal request for her daughter’s hand. The duchess informed Charlotte, who wrote to the prince the following letter:
“Madame,[105]
“I am not able, it seems to me, to thank you as I should wish for the honour that it pleases you to do me by your letter, and for the good-will which it appears you entertain for me, which oblige me to serve you in such fashion that I shall esteem myself very happy all my life if I am favoured by your commands, which I shall execute with as much fidelity as any creature in the world. And, since I know that Madame de la Trémoille, my mother, is replying to what you have been so good as to write to her, I shall say nothing on this subject, save that my intention has ever been to conform to her will, and that it will remain so eternally, and to assure you again Monsr (sic) that my little merit must prevent me from believing what it pleases you to express for me.... I thank you very humbly for the honour which I receive from your suit, although I know that I am in no way worthy of it, which places me under a very great obligation to you. I shall leave to Madame de la Trémoille, my mother, to reply on the subject of the journeys of the bearer of this, for all that I have desired my whole life, is to follow these commands, in which I shall never fail, and, in token of this, I shall kiss your hands.
“Your very humble servant, etc., etc.”[106]
On learning that Mlle. de Trémoille had arrived at Taillebourg, Condé quitted his camp at Brouage and proceeded thither. He took with him the greater part of the Huguenot cavalry, and we may imagine with what a thrill of pleasure the romantic Charlotte must have beheld this valiant prince coming to woo her accompanied by so splendid an array of mail-clad horsemen. Nor was she less pleased when, at the gateway of the château, her suitor dismissed his imposing escort, and, to show his confidence, entered with three or four of his officers only.
All smiles and blushes the young châtelaine came forward to greet him, and, though Condé was usually very reserved with women, Mademoiselle was so pretty and so sympathetic that soon he found himself discoursing of his wars and his wanderings as though he had known her for years. Before the evening was over, Charlotte had decided that the hero of her dreams had indeed materialized; while the prince was completely charmed. “The two betrothed,” writes a contemporary biographer of the latter, “promised henceforth to live and die together, provided that they obtained the consent of Madame de la Trémoille, of which Mademoiselle her daughter was sufficiently assured;”[107] and Condé might have said with Othello:
“She loved me for the dangers I had passed,
And I lov’d her that she did pity them.”
Mlle. de la Trémoille gave that very night a proof of her devotion to her future husband. As the garrison of Taillebourg contained several men who, she had reason to suspect, were by no means well-disposed towards the Huguenot leader, “she did not take any repose all night, but watched with extreme care over his safety until the morning, placing the sentinels herself and making hourly inquiries of the rounds if they had discovered anything which might trouble the repose of our amorous prince.”[108]