The Duke was one of the chief leaders of the Calvinistic party, and in their tenets he brought up his two sons, the Prince de Sedan and the Vicomte de Turenne. When the education of the elder was completed, he went to Holland to learn the art of war, under his uncle Maurice, Prince of Orange, while Henry continued his studies at home. In early childhood his constitution was far from robust, which inclined the Duke to destine him for some civil employment; but the little Vicomte had set his whole heart on being a soldier, and he was resolved to prove to his father that the decision he had come to was ill-founded. He took, in consequence, rather an ingenious method of manifesting his health and strength. One evening the boy contrived to elude the vigilance of his governor, who spent hours of anxious search, and never discovered the truant till the next morning, on the ramparts of the town. On the carriage of a cannon, where he had passed the whole night, lay the little fellow, smiling in his calm sleep over the dreams which had visited his iron pillow,—visions, in all probability, of the daring exploits of some of his beloved heroes of antiquity, or some brilliant foretaste of his own future glory. But a still more characteristic anecdote is told of Turenne’s boyhood. He took great delight in lecturing, as it were, to a group of admiring listeners, on the merits of his favourite historian, Quintus Curtius, or the mighty deeds of Alexander the Great. In such moments his eye would kindle, his whole face brighten, and he would overcome that hesitation of speech under which he laboured in calmer moments. One eventful day an officer (of mature years), who was in the company, ventured to speak disparagingly of Henry’s favourite historian, and even to question his veracity! This was too much for the impetuous boy; he waxed wroth, and answered the attack with indignation, to the infinite amusement of his mother, who was present. She made a sign to the officer to prosecute the argument, till the Vicomte de Turenne, with all the offended dignity of his ten years, left the room in a towering passion, and the same evening challenged the officer to mortal combat. The ‘cartel’ was carried to the Duchess, who was much delighted with this early development of her son’s military ardour. The challenge was of course accepted, the place of rendezvous settled, and thither the small hero hastened the next morning, ‘his soul in arms, and eager for the fray.’ To his surprise he found his mother on the ground, and the officer by her side, while on the green turf at their feet was spread a goodly banquet. The Duchess advanced with a smile, and embracing her son told him she had come to act as second to his antagonist, but that they must first breakfast, upon which the three sat down, together with the gentlemen of the hunt, who were also there assembled, and during the repast, as may easily be believed, peace was concluded, the honour of the young firebrand appeased, and an exhilarating gallop put an end to all discord.
Henry was only twelve when his father died; he remained a year longer at home, during which time he showed a far greater taste for athletic and military exercises than for sedentary studies; above all, he delighted in horsemanship, and the more unmanageable the steed, the more willingly would Henry mount it. Hearing that the Comte de Roussy (afterwards his brother-in-law) had brought a charger from Paris that was considered wild and vicious, he never rested till he had it saddled, and leaped on its back, in spite of the expostulations of the whole household. In a short time the juvenile Alexander returned from his triumphant ride, having tamed the modern Bucephalus! When thirteen, the Duchess sent him to join his brother at the Court of the Stadtholder; Maurice received him graciously, but insisted on his entering the army as a private soldier. The Prince died a very short time after Turenne’s arrival in Holland, but the youth had already imbibed those lessons of military tactics, and that reverence for discipline, which, added to his own talents and aptitude for the service, stood him in good stead his life long. Henry Frederic, Maurice’s successor as Stadtholder and commander-in-chief, continued his protection to Turenne, and gave him the command of a regiment of infantry, which soon became a model of discipline. Under his uncle’s auspices, the young soldier now commenced active service; in 1629 he distinguished himself more especially at the siege of Bois-le-Duc, a fortress known as La Pucelle de Brabant.
It is not our intention to make a list of the military exploits of this great man, whose campaigns in Lorraine, Italy, Germany, etc., would fill many volumes, and indeed form part of the history of France, or rather of Europe. While his brilliant victories, his skilful retreats, and, for the most part, his successful diplomatic negotiations, established his lasting fame, we shall only enumerate those which are necessary to a narrative of this nature. In the early days of which we are now speaking, Turenne’s valour and thirst for enterprise were so remarkable that Prince Henry Frederic deemed it advisable to reprimand the young soldier for his rashness, with (it may be conceived) but ill-concealed admiration for his prowess. The Prince said one day to some officers who were standing near him, ‘If I mistake not, Turenne will one day rival our greatest captains in fame and glory.’ Turenne remained five years in the service of Holland, when his mother, who had been engaged in political negotiations with France, sent him to that country, where the King and his Prime Minister, Cardinal Richelieu, received him most graciously, and gave him the command of a regiment of foot in the French army. At the siege of La Motte he mounted the walls in person, and carried the bastion, for which he was rewarded with the bâton of a field-marshal—a grade only second to that of Marshal of France,—being an honour almost unheard of for a young man of three-and-twenty. His humanity was equal to his valour. During the privations and hardships of the retreat from Mayence in 1635, the Marshal exerted himself to the utmost to alleviate suffering. He caused many of the valuable contents of his own baggage-wagons to be thrown away, in order to provide room for the weary and wounded; he shared his own provisions with the common soldiers, consoling and helping all those who were in need, without distinction of rank or nationality. Never slackening for one moment in his military duties, which he pursued with untiring zeal, at the siege of Saverne, foremost, as usual, in mounting the breach, his arm was struck by a musket-ball, and for some time it was believed amputation must ensue. The recovery was slow and tedious, but long before it was complete the Marshal had resumed his duties.
In 1638 he became a lieutenant-general, on being sent to the relief of Duke Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, with whom an alliance had been formed by France. In 1646 he returned to Paris, to the Court, where the Prime Minister, Cardinal Mazarin, whose recognition of his great services had hitherto been but lukewarm, was loud in his commendation, and offered him the Duchy of Château Thierry, and the hand of one of his beautiful and well-dowered nieces; but Turenne refused all these offers, from the conviction that some of the conditions therein involved would prove prejudicial to the interests of his brother, the Duke de Bouillon, to whom he was warmly attached. He was defeated by the Comte de Mercy, in command of the Bavarians at Mariendal, but made a most skilful retreat, and by the side of the Prince de Condé took his revenge at the battle of Nordlingen, where Mercy was routed, and received his death-wound. This brave general was buried near the place where he fell, and his tomb bore this inscription: Sta, Viator, Heroem Calcas. Turenne then marched to join the Swedish General Wrangel, the friend and comrade of the great Gustavus Adolphus, in Hesse, and was preparing for fresh warfare when the signing of the Treaty of Westphalia gave peace to Central Europe, concluding the Thirty Years War. A most flattering letter to the Vicomte de Turenne was written by the Elector of Mayence, the Duke of Würtemberg, and many other Princes and Ambassadors, attributing this happy event as much to his military exploits as to the efforts of the Plenipotentiaries.
France did not long enjoy the blessings of peace for civil war was now about to shed its baneful influence over the land. Anne of Austria, the Queen-Mother and Regent (during Louis the Fourteenth’s minority), was almost entirely under the influence of her Prime Minister, Cardinal Mazarin, who was very unpopular with the Parliament and the greater part of the French nation. The successes of the English Parliamentarian troops over those of the Royalists, and the downfall of the Monarchy, had given a strong impetus to the anti-Court party in France, and a faction was formed, well known in history as the ‘Fronde.’
This nickname was given to the party who were opposed to the policy of the Queen-Regent, Anne of Austria, and her favourite and adviser, Cardinal de Mazarin, whose measures they condemned as unjust and oppressive. One of the principal adherents was the Cardinal de Retz, or Coadjutor, as he was called, a turbulent and intriguing spirit; but it soon numbered among its members the most important and noble names in France. The designation of Frondeurs was given by a contemporary writer, from the word Fronde,—Anglicè, a sling. He likened the malcontents to boys who went about the streets slinging stones, till put to flight by the appearance of any officer of the law. By degrees the faction assumed a much more imposing form, and though the name remained, it had certainly lost its significance. Discontent increased every day, the people clamoured for redress of grievances, and deputations flocked to Parliament to entreat the interference of the members against the oppressions of the Court. The Parliament was divided into three different factions,—the Frondeurs aforesaid, the Mazarinists, who supported the Cardinal, and the Modérés, who blamed the ultra views of both parties. Three members in particular rose up as champions of the oppressed, and so incensed the Queen by their seditious language, that she caused them to be arrested. This was the signal for open revolt: shops were closed, streets blocked, barricades formed, and the liberty of ‘the fathers of the people,’ as they were called, loudly and insolently demanded. Anne of Austria showed courage and determination, arguing that compliance would be a fatal admission of weakness; but the Duke of Orleans and the Cardinal, alarmed for their own safety and property, overruled her decision. The captives were released, and the Court departed hastily to St. Germains, a step which was designated as ‘l’enlèvement du Roi.’ The popular party was triumphant, and the Cardinal de Retz, considering it a favourable opportunity, exerted himself to gain proselytes, and the malcontents soon numbered among their adherents such men as the Dukes de Bouillon, de Lorraine, de Beaufort, de Longueville, de la Rochefoucauld, and the Prince de Conti, brother of the great Condé, with many others. They were also rich in noble female partisans, ‘les héroines de la Fronde.’ Beauty, birth, and talent swelled the list of the fair conspirators,—Mademoiselle de Montpensier, ‘la grande demoiselle,’ as she was called,—the Duchesses de Chevreuse and de Bouillon, the Princess Palatine, and last, but least in no sense of the word, the Duchesse de Longueville. When Anne of Austria deserted her post at Paris, a rival in power, a superior in youth and beauty, reigned for a time paramount in her stead,—the charming despot of an elective monarchy.
Anne Généviève de Bourbon was at one time so nearly connected with the fortunes of Turenne that we are tempted to give some details respecting her eventful life. Her father was Henry, Prince de Condé (or ‘Monsieur le Prince,’ as the head of that illustrious house was always called), her mother the beautiful Charlotte de Montmorency, daughter of the Grand Connétable of that name. They were both imprisoned in the Château de Vincennes, where their daughter was born in the year 1618. Mademoiselle de Bourbon was educated at the Convent of the Carmelites, where she showed a decided bias towards the vocation of a recluse, and a corresponding aversion to the idea of a life at Court, or in the great world. A very short experience, however, of admiration and success entirely changed her views, and she became one of the most lovely précieuses of the Hôtel Rambouillet. The cynosure of all eyes, a crowd of suitors clustered round her, none of whom found favour in the sight of her parents, till the Duc de Longueville presented himself. He was her senior by many years, and still under the influence of a former mistress, the Duchesse de Montbazon; but he came of an illustrious family, and was not far removed from the rank of a prince of the blood-royal; and Mademoiselle de Bourbon had the paternal commands laid upon her to receive him as her bridegroom. At first she showed the greatest possible repugnance to the marriage, but there was no alternative; and she walked to the altar, radiant in beauty, and gorgeously attired, assuming a cheerfulness of demeanour which belied the feelings of her heart. From that time forward the young Duchess gave herself up to a system of cold-blooded coquetry, which had most disastrous results. We quote an eloquent description from the pages of her biographer, Ville Flore: ‘Un an s’était à peine écoulé, que la blanche robe de la jeune mariée avait déjà des táches de sang, et que sans même avoir donné son cœur elle faisait naître involontairement la plus tragique querelle, oû Coligny perissait à la fleur de l’âge par la main d’un de ces Guises, auquel elle avoit été un moment destinée. Prélude sinistre des orages qui l’attendaient.’ Adorers crowded round her, poets sang her praises, novels were written of which she was the peerless heroine, and still Généviève de Longueville proceeded on her triumphal march, careless and fancy-free, making conquest after conquest, creating cabals and jealousies that became political feuds,—the Court now taking part against, now with, the beautiful syren. ‘Mais on ne badine pas éternellement avec l’amour.’
M. de Masillac (or as we will call him by his better-known title, the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, to which he shortly succeeded), who had once been loved, and was now hated, by Anne of Austria, laid siege to the fortress which had held out so long, and carried the heart of the Duchesse de Longueville by storm. Witty, handsome, cynical, reserved, and self-contained, with a reputation already established for valour and intellect, La Rochefoucauld soon gained a complete ascendency over this daughter of the proud house of Condé.
He was a man who, for the most part, practised what he preached and expounded in his world-famed ‘Maxims,’ and whose character, drawn by his own pen, showed how the head preponderated over the heart in his composition. That he admired the Duchess there can be no doubt:—
‘Pour mériter son cœur,