The King, tossing upon a sick-bed, was full of anxiety regarding the issue of this war. He had had a dream, or rather a vision, which he narrated to the Prince de Condé (father of the Duc d’Enghien) who sat near his bedside. “I have,” he said in a faint voice, “seen your son advancing towards the enemy. The fight was sharp, and the victory was for a long time undecided; but at last it was ours.” These are said to have been the last words of Louis XIII.
A few days later, whilst the Requiem Mass for His Majesty was being sung at Saint-Denis, it became known that Louis de Bourbon, the Duc d’Enghien, had gained the battle of Rocroy, and from that time he bore the name of the “Grand Condé.” The flag taken on this occasion from the Spaniards may still be seen at Chantilly in the gallery where paintings by Sauveur Lecomte record his famous deeds. It is now reckoned amongst the most precious trophies of France, since most of those preserved at the Invalides were destroyed in 1814. All Paris desired to see the Spanish flag taken at Rocroy, and it was therefore exhibited publicly at the Louvre, at Notre Dame, and on the Quai. Congratulations poured in upon the Condés, and the Duc d’Enghien was pointed out as the hero who had won the first battle for the new four-year-old King. His father, full of pride, wished him to return to Paris to receive the ovations of the people; but, like a true strategist, the Duke was anxious before all else to reap the advantages of his victory. In a characteristic letter to his father, who was urging him to come home, he explained that the enemy had invaded France, and that he felt that he must remain at the head of his regiment in order to serve his country, at least as long as their foes were on French soil.
His next act was to attack Thionville on the Moselle, upon which occasion he succeeded in separating the troops commanded by Beck from the main army in the Netherlands, thus displaying a great example of military skill. It was, however, no longer from Louis XIII that he received his orders, but from Mazarin and the amiable but weak and irresolute Anne of Austria. Condé, in spite of his youth, had therefore to act on his own responsibility. In the spring of 1645 he won with Turenne the great battle of Nördlingen,[11] where he completely defeated the Austro-Spanish general Mercy.
The Duc d’Aumale, a military man of great distinction himself, speaks of the three victorious battles of Rocroy, Thionville, and Nördlingen as most important in their results, unblemished by any sort of reverse. He attributes to the Grand Condé all the qualities necessary for a great general: foresight in his preparations and a supreme ability to vary his tactics according to circumstances; great boldness and sudden inspiration during action; prompt decision and a far-reaching political outlook to confirm the victory and reap its fruits. It is rare indeed to discover all these qualities united in one man, and to find Condé’s equals we must look to men like Frederick the Great, Napoleon, and Wellington.
After the battle of Nördlingen, Condé fell ill of a fever, which compelled him at length to return to Chantilly. His mother, the Princesse Charlotte de Condé, his sister Geneviève, and his wife Claire-Clemence, with her little son the Duc d’Albret, whom he had not yet seen, welcomed him home. The historical “petite chambre” which he had always occupied was made ready for him, and “eau de Forges” to fortify his impaired strength. There he was invited to repose after the excessive fatigues of camp-life.
The attraction Condé had felt for Marthe de Vigeau when forced to marry the Cardinal’s niece had by this time passed away; and his plans for divorce in order to marry the woman he had so passionately adored had been definitely abandoned since the birth of his son Henri Jules. But he could not bring himself to show any affection to Claire-Clemence, who, during the long absence of her husband, had retired into the Convent of the Carmelites. It was a marriage into which he had been forced—a fact that he could not get over. Meanwhile Marthe de Vigeau had burnt his letters; had even gone so far as to burn his portrait; and, to make the sacrifice complete, had taken the veil and was henceforth known as “Sœur Marthe” in the same Carmelite Convent. But the Court was teeming with intriguing women who all wished to approach the young hero, around whose forehead laurels were now so thickly wreathed. Strong as Condé was in the field, he proved weak in the hands of an intriguing woman. In this he resembled his ancestor Louis I de Bourbon, whose name he bore. It was his beautiful cousin, Isabelle de Montmorency, who exercised the most pernicious influence over him. She had become the wife of Dandelot de Coligny, who for her sake had abjured the Protestant Faith. Ambitious to the extreme, she strove, after the death of her husband, to attract Louis XIV whilst still a youth, and after vainly trying to marry Charles II of England, she ended by marrying the Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin.
Plate XII.
