The Boys' Book of Famous Rulers

by Lydia Hoyt Farmer

The people of Paris were in sympathy with the Parliament; and nobles, even of royal blood, out of enmity to Mazarin, joined the popular cause.

Thus commenced the famous civil war of the Fronde; for as the cardinal contemptuously remarked, “The Parliament are like school-boys fronding in the Paris ditches,” and the Parliament of Paris accepted the title, and adopted the Fronde, or sling, as the emblem of their party. There were riots in Paris, and affairs grew threatening. Mazarin and the court party were alarmed and fled to St. Germain.

Thus there were two rival courts in France,—the one at St. Germain, where all was want and destitution; the other at the Hotel de Ville in Paris, where all was splendor, abundance, and festive enjoyment. The court and Mazarin soon tired of the life at St. Germain, and the king; sent a herald to the Parliament. The Parliament refused to receive the herald, but sent a deputation to the king, and at last, after a lengthy conference, a not very satisfactory compromise was agreed upon, and on the 5th of April, 1650, the royal fugitives returned to Paris.

“Thus ended the first act of the most singular, bootless, and we are almost tempted to add, burlesque war, which in all probability, Europe ever witnessed. Through its whole duration society appeared to have been smitten with some moral hallucination. Kings and cardinals slept on mattresses; princesses and duchesses on straw; market-women embraced princes; prelates governed armies; court-ladies led the mob, and the mob in its turn ruled the city.”

On the 5th of September, 1651, the minority of the dauphin ceased, he had now entered upon his fourteenth year, and, immature boy as he was, he was declared to be the absolute monarch of France. On the seventh of the month, the king held his bed of justice. The ceremony was attended with all the pomp the wealth of the empire could furnish. The young king left the Palais Royal attended by a numerous and splendid retinue. Observed of all observers, “handsome as Adonis, august in majesty, the pride and joy of humanity,” he sat his splendid steed; and when the horse, frightened by the long and enthusiastically prolonged cries of, “Vive le Roi!” reared and plunged with terror, Louis managed him with a skill and address which called forth the admiration of all beholders. After attending mass, the young king took his seat in the Parliament. Here the boy of thirteen, covering his head while all the notabilities of France stood before him with heads uncovered, repeated the following words:—

“Gentlemen, I have attended my Parliament in order to inform you that, according to the law of my kingdom, I shall myself assume its government. I trust that by the goodness of God it will be with piety and justice.”

The chancellor then made a long address, after which the oath of allegiance was taken by all the civil and ecclesiastical notabilities. The royal procession then returned to the gates of the Palais Royal. Thus, a stripling, who had just completed his thirteenth year, was accepted by the nobles and by the populace as the absolute and untrammelled sovereign of France. “He held in his hands, virtually, unrestrained by constitution or court, their liberties, their fortunes, and their lives.” Two years later, in 1653, the coronation of the king took place at Rheims. France at this time was at war with Spain, and, immediately after the coronation, the king, then sixteen years of age, set out from Rheims to place himself at the head of the army. He went to Stenay, on the northeastern frontier of France. This ancient city, protected by strong fortifications, was held by the Prince de Condé. The royal troops were besieging it. There were marches and counter-marches, battles and skirmishes. The young king displayed intrepidity which secured for him the admiration of the soldiers. Turenne and Fabert fought the battles and gained the victories. Stenay was soon taken, and the army of the Prince de Condé driven from all its positions. “There is nothing so successful as success;” and the young king, a hero and a conqueror, returned to Paris to enjoy the congratulation of the populace, and to offer public thanksgiving in the cathedral of Nôtre Dame. Though the king was nominally the absolute ruler of France, still there was the influence of his mother, Anne of Austria, which up to this time had exerted over him a great control; but this was soon to end.

Henrietta Maria, the widowed queen of the unfortunate Charles I., was then residing at the French court. Her daughter Henrietta, as grand-daughter of Henry IV. and daughter of Charles I., was entitled, through the purity of her royal blood, to the highest consideration at the court. When, then, at a ball given for these unfortunate guests, the music summoned the dancers upon the floor, and the king, in total disregard of his young and royal cousin, advanced, according to his custom, to lead out the Duchesse de Mercœur, the queen was shocked at so gross a breach of etiquette, and, rising hastily, she withdrew his hand from that of the duchess, and said in a low voice, “You should dance first, my son, with the princess of England.”

Louis replied sullenly, “I am not fond of little girls.”