When the major-domo withdrew, none were in the cabinet save the prince, who seated himself, a black slave, and Bartholomew, who stood by the window. All at once the tramp of feet sounded in the gallery, and an assassin rushed in, followed by others holding daggers and shouting, “Ammaza! kill! kill!” In a few minutes Lucien was despatched, and then the murderers, surrounding Bartholomew, marched forth, descended to the port, and were received on board the galley of Andrew Doria.
Hercules I. (1589-1604) met with a violent death from some of his own subjects. He used his sovereign power to get possession of and outrage the wives and daughters of his subjects. At last some, whose wives had been dishonoured by him, conspired, took him and flung him over the rocks into the sea.
Louis (1662-1701), Prince of Monaco, became enamoured of the celebrated Hortense Mancini, Duchess of Mazarin, exiled from France for her intrigues. He followed her to Rome, and thence to London, where he and Charles II. were rivals for her favour. Saint Evremond did all in his power to separate her from the prince and constitute her a prime favourite of the King, in place of the Duchess of Portsmouth. A rivalry in prodigality ensued between little Monaco and the King of Great Britain. It was the fable of the frog and the ox enacted. In an access of jealousy Charles withdrew a pension of £4,000 he had accorded to the duchess, whereupon Louis sent her an order for that same amount, payable for life out of his treasury, accompanying it with a copy of verses. That the money was paid regularly is more than doubtful.
This Louis was married to Charlotte de Gramont, who was one of “les grandes amoureuses” of the reign of Louis XIV. She intrigued with the king. She entertained a passion for her ambitious cousin de Lauzun. Her many love adventures furnished Saint Simon with a good deal of not very edifying matter for his Mémoires. Whilst Charlotte revelled in Paris, Louis sulked at Monaco. As news reached him of Charlotte having made a fresh conquest, he had a gibbet erected on the confines of his tiny principality, and the happy man in effigy hung from it; and as Charlotte’s caprices and conquests were numerous, the frontier of Monaco was soon marked out at intervals by a score of gallows, from which dangled dummy men, all dressed in Court costume.
“Not merely,” says Mme. de Sévigné, “is this measure retrospective, but folk amuse themselves by informing the prince of what is now going on. The consequence is that the gibbets have to be put closer together, and more than half of the courtiers are now dangling in effigy along the frontiers of Monaco. I can assure you that I have had many a laugh over this, and others as well. The king himself laughs at it. This frenzy of hangings passes all belief.”
At the beginning of the seventeenth century, the Spaniards had profited by the minority of Honoré II. to put a garrison into Monaco, under the pretext of alliance. Speedily they took advantage of this to behave as masters of the place. Prince Honoré, to escape from their domination, signed a secret treaty with Louis XIII. in 1641, by virtue of which his sovereign independence was guaranteed and a garrison of 500 French soldiers was assured him after the expulsion of the Spaniards. But it was precisely this last thing that was most difficult to achieve. Honoré succeeded by subtlety. He ordered the arrest of thirty of the inhabitants of Monaco, lusty men, and cast them into prison; then invited the Spanish garrison to a grand banquet at the palace, and made them as drunk as fiddlers. When they were almost incapable of defence, he opened the prison, told the men he had locked up that they were to massacre the Spanish garrison, and put daggers into their hands. The Spaniards, however, were not so drunk that they could not defend their lives; they were, however, nearly all slaughtered; and the gates were thrown open to some French soldiers who had been waiting at Antibes to replace the Spaniards. This took place in November, 1641. In consequence of this, all the estates of Honoré in Italy were confiscated, but Louis XIII. indemnified Honoré for this by granting to him the Seigneurie of Les Baux in Provence and the Duchy of Valentinois.
Antoine, who died in 1731, was the last direct male of the house. He left a daughter, Louise Hippolyte, who married Jacques François de Matignon, Comte de Torrigny. She survived her father but eleven months. Her son Honoré III. (1731-1795) lived at the time of the outbreak of the French Revolution. The new ideas excited effervescence in little Monaco, Roquebrune, and Mentone, which belonged at the time to the principality, and they demanded elective councils. Honoré was compelled to yield, whereupon the Councils suppressed all feudal rights. Then, when he was frightened and ran away, the three towns declared the House of Grimaldi deposed. Nice had been united to France, and Monaco demanded the same favour, which was granted February 14th, 1793. Honoré was arrested on September 28th, in the same year, and detained till Thermidor 9th. He died in 1795. By the treaty of Paris, 1814, Monaco was restored to Honoré IV., his son, but on the return of Napoleon from Elba, the principality was occupied by an English force. By the treaty of November 20th, 1815, it was transferred to Sardinia; but this lasted only till 1816, when Honoré V. regained his principality. His son Florestan I. (1841-56) abolished monopoly in bread, allowed free trade, and founded a college at Mentone. The revolution of 1848 was disastrous to the Prince. Mentone and Roquebrune severed their connexion with Monaco and were annexed to Sardinia. Charles III. (1856-89) succeeded his father, Florestan. He it was who conceived the idea of repairing his losses by the establishment of gaming tables at Monaco.
THE THEATRE AND GAMING-HALL, MONTE CARLO