The next day Gabrielle was at Fontainebleau. In 1599, Henri IV. received Charles Emanuel, Duke of Savoy, here. It was most probable that during this visit those intrigues were begun that ended by conducting Biron to the scaffold-Biron who, after having bravely fought for Henri, being honored by his friendship, and having received from him the staff of maréchal as a reward, fell in the midst of prosperity, when his conspiracies with Spain-then the bitterest enemy of France-were discovered, as well as various other intrigues against his sovereign, he having been seduced by the caresses and the magnificent promises made to him by his country's foes. The king was at Fontainebleau when the guilt of Biron was first discovered. Nothing could exceed the grief he felt at the treachery of the maréchal, to whom he was personally much attached. He sent for Sully, and throwing his arms round him with great emotion, said to him: "Sully, I am betrayed by a friend. Biron has conspired against me." Sully advised the king to have Biron arrested in his own house. Henri would not consent to this; he wished first to have an interview with his former friend, and induce him to acknowledge his crime, in order afterwards at once to forgive him. The maréchal was summoned to court without delay. He at first hesitated, but, reässured by his accomplices, who persuaded him that it was impossible the king could be acquainted with the conspiracy, proceeded to Fontainebleau, and arrived there the 13th of June, 1602. His entry created quite a sensation, for every one suspected his treason, and all were on the qui vive to know what steps would be taken against him. Biron resisted with haughty obstinacy all the efforts of his magnanimous sovereign to draw from him an acknowledg ment of his treason, or some expressions of regret and repentance. "Sully," said Henri to his minister, "Biron is indeed a most unhappy man. I really have a great inclination to pardon him, to forget the past, and behave to him as if I had never known it. I pity him profoundly. I can not endure to punish so brave a man-one who has served me for so many years, and for whom I have felt so much friendship. All my fear is, that if I pardon him he will never pardon me, and may revenge himself on my children or my kingdom." The king determined to make a last appeal to his treacherous general. One evening, after playing at cards, he summoned Biron into his cabinet, and thus addressed him: "Maréchal, I wish to learn from your own mouth circumstances which, to my sorrow, I am too well acquainted with. I promise you my forgiveness for whatever you have done against me; only confess frankly what your conduct has been. All shall be covered with the royal mantle of mercy. I will protect you, and every thing shall be buried in eternal silence!"" "This is strange language to an honest man," replied the obstinate maréchal. "I never had any desire but to be your faithful servant." "Would to God that were true!" replied the king. Then, turning on him a look of compassion, he left the room, saying: "Adieu, Maréchal Biron." A few moments afterwards Biron was arrested in the very palace where he had been summoned to justify himself. Once in the hands of justice, and condemned to death, he now vainly solicited a pardon which Henri would once willingly have granted to him, if he had only confessed his delinquency. The only favor he could obtain was, that he should undergo the extreme penalty of the law in private within the walls of his prison. Louis XIII., that feeble, timid, suspicious son of the gallant Henry IV. and of Marie de Medicis, was born at Fontainebleau. During his whole life this prince was governed by Cardinal Richelieu. History seems only to have preserved his name in order to mark the era of an imperious minister, or as a period of repose for the mind, passing from the inordinate licentiousness of his father's conduct to the pompous though scandalous amours of his son, Louis XIV. The sight of youth and beauty were not, however, without very particular attractions for Louis XIII., yet his attachments were entirely Platonic-a union of kindred souls that excluded all idea of sensuality-truly, a most singular exception in the annals of royal intrigues! Some account of these liaisons must, I imagine, be agreeable to the reader, and I shall, therefore, enter into the details of various scenes in the life of Mademoiselle de Hautefort and of Mademoiselle de la Fayette, the two favorites who have afforded the almost singular instance offered by history of influence acquired by beauty and maintained by virtue. Anne of Austria, and wife of Louis XIII., was born in the same month of the same year, 1601, as he was himself, and they were married at the age of fifteen. The mind of the queen was already formed; she was lively, clever, and brilliant. Louis, who still remained a child, was naturally timid and melancholy, and she felt her superiority over him. It is easy to govern those who are of an imbecile or indolent disposition without pleasing them, but love is often not gained by a display of superiority. The admiration extorted by the superior mind from one conscious of inferiority is, after all, only a kind of wonder, often mixed with envy, which, far from gaining the affections, only serves to alienate and repulse those tenderer feelings. The queen might and ought to have governed Louis, but she wanted those qualities that were calculated to gain his heart. Louis admired her beauty, but was terrified at her vivacity. Her gayety, her frankness, and general taste for all kinds of amusements, jarred against the austerity of his principles, and from the very commencement of their union he lived as much estranged from her as the rules of etiquette permitted. Marie de Medicis, who then held the reins of government, dreading the power that a young and beautiful wife might exercise over him, used every endeavor to confirm these painful impressions in the mind of the king, and increase his disinclination towards Anne of Austria. The first years of their marriage passed away in mutual indifference. The queen uttered no complaints, she showed no vexation, but among her favorite friends she expressed herself in a style of very indiscreet raillery on the character and conduct of her husband. If the reproaches of a neglected wife are wearisome, at least they are flattering to a husband's vanity; but ridicule on subjects that ought to produce sorrow and distress is not to be pardoned, for it is the certain indication of scorn or of insensibility. Reports of the queen's expressions, heightened by the malice of those whose interest it was to widen the breach, were not wanting to alienate still further the mind of Louis. His was of a disposition neither to hide nor to display his displeasure with violence, much less to seek for explanations. He took no care to disguise his annoyance, and showed his feelings by a cold and disdainful silence. The pride of the queen was wounded. Too young to be fully aware of the probable danger and misery of her future position, and entirely deprived of all judicious advice, she took no steps to reconcile herself to the king, and their misunderstanding grew into irreconcilable dislike. Louis XIII. was neither without sense nor religion; his conduct was irreproachable, and he was not wanting in courage, but he had none of those virtues that insure domestic happiness; he failed equally in his duties as a son, a husband, and a brother, and was neither a great prince nor a good king. For in a sovereign, indolence and weakness become often the most fatal of vices, a certain strength and fortitude of character being absolutely necessary in those who are intrusted with the burden of the state. Educated in the midst of ever-recurring wars and rebellions, Louis knew nothing of royalty but its cares and anxieties; he only experienced the lassitude and weariness of power without any of its enjoyments. He had been badly educated, and when arrived at that age when his own sense and application might have remedied this neglect, he mistook his ignorance for incapacity, and took no measures for self-improvement. Those who desired to govern under his name were very careful not to enlighten him as to his own powers; his idleness was, moreover, favored by natural indolence, it being easier to doubt his own powers of acquirement than to apply himself to conquer such deficiencies. The fame of Henri IV., and the admiration his memory inspired, instead of filling his son with emulation, seemed only to have the effect of still further discouraging him. The most brilliant examples are not always the most useful. Emulation may be extinguished by the excessive superiority of the model, or the only sentiment it inspires may end in nothing but a barren enthusiasm. But there was at least this difference between Louis XIII. and the Fainéant kings, his predecessors, though similar to him in many other respects: he did not, at any rate, betray or leave to chance the best interests of his country; his mind and his principles at least induced him to select a worthy deputy for his delegated authority. He did not resign the reins of government without consideration, and he displayed discernment in intrusting them into the most able hands. But from that | Hautefort repeated to the queen every moment he considered himself liberated word that the king had uttered. This from all the responsibilities of royalty. platonic attachment was the subject of He abdicated without descending from much amusement in the queen's circle, the throne, and by this dishonorable aban- and Mademoiselle de Hautefort herself donment of his duties, which only showed took rather a delight in ridiculing the senhis impotence and incapacity, without any timents and conduct of her august lover, of the philosophic contempt or disregard which was neither prudent nor right in of the advantages attending them which a her to do. She ought either to have revoluntary resignation of the legitimate fused to become the confidante of the exercises of power would have displayed, king, or to have faithfully kept the secrets he lost the respect due to his position, he intrusted to her. yet still remained responsible for the suf ferings inflicted on his people. That people ceased not to reproach him with every mishap that occurred, and at the same time refused to allow him any share of the glories of his reign. Posterity has confirmed this severe but equitable sentence. The idle disposition of Louis made a prime minister absolutely necessary, and his heart yearned after a friend to whose bosom he could confide his sorrows and disappointments. Henri IV. had found many faithful and attached servants, but his son met only with favorites. An attachment of a deeper kind, but which the purity of his heart induced him to mistake for friendship, long occupied him. Among the queen's ladies of honor he particularly noticed Mademoiselle de Hautefort. Her discretion and her virtue first attracted him, and formed her greatest charm. Such a reputation in a young and beautiful woman was the most potent seduction that could be offered to the king. Mademoiselle de Hautefort was ambitious and talented, and of rather a serious turn of mind; her conversation was most agreeable to him, and she soon gained his confidence. It was observed with surprise that the king, after his daily visits to the queen, with whom he only stayed a few minutes, remained for whole hours in a boudoir contiguous to her apartments, where at certain hours he met Mademoiselle de Hautefort, accompanied by others of the maids of honor. Here, in the recess of a bay-window, Louis seated himself by her side, and while conversing in a low voice, forgot how the hours fled in interminable conversations, where such a naughty word as love was not even mentioned. The purity of his conduct was so thoroughly known, that this kind of intimacy did not damage in the slightest degree the reputation of the young lady. It is true that, in order to prevent even the shadow of suspicion, Mademoiselle de After some months Louis discovered her treachery, as several circumstances were repeated to him again that he had only mentioned to Mademoiselle de Hautefort. He had every reason to feel himself offended as her friend and her sovereign, but he did not openly complain. Mademoiselle de Hautefort, however, was deprived of her situation and exiled. After the loss of his confidante, Louis again shut himself up in his apartments, and became more shy and more reserved than ever. At this period he suffered much vexation, caused by the animosity of the queen-mother to Cardinal Richelieu. Marie de Medicis was obstinate and narrow-minded; her unbounded ambition was unaided by judgment; she was imperious, and at the same time weak, violent and inconstant-at once opiniated and obstinate when her passions were concerned. She was guided rather by the heart than the head, and became therefore the dupe of favorites; but still she wished to exercise the most despotic power over France. Her bad temper and her violence had already deprived her of her husband's affection. The same imperious temper alienated from her a son naturally affectionate and devoted, and her insatiable ambition forced that minister, who owed his elevation to her favor, ultimately to become her enemy. Richelieu did all that was possible to combat her prepossessions: he supplicated, he entreated, he knelt, he even shed tears; but the queen was inflexible. Louis, alarmed, or rather annoyed, at these disputes, neither acted as became a son nor a sovereign. He might at once have ended all internal discord by demanding of the queen, as a sovereign, and entreating her with all the filial respect of a son, to cease from further interference with the affairs of state. But he only requested where he ought to have commanded, and ended by basely sacrificing his mother, because he wanted ations; but flattery, even where it fails to convince, raises at least a kind of doubt in the mind, which is itself agreeable. the necessary courage to act with firm- | ambition. Louis was not so foolish as to ness, and expose himself to the chance of be entirely duped by these false representan unpleasant outbreak. It is thus that weakness often drives the mind to more violent resolutions than even passion, which at least calms down after any vehement outbreak, Louis knew well that the measures he meditated would excite the rage of his mother to the very highest pitch; but in determining her exile, he imagined he would at least be spared the embarrassment of having personally to endure face to face her invectives and reproaches. He was aware that public opinion would be against him, but he flattered himself that it would never reach his ears; in a word, he only feared personally to see and to hear what might give annoyance. Such are the vices of weak characters. Some days after the disappearance of Marie de Medicis, the Princess Marie of Mantova proposed to the queen to confer the situation of Mademoiselle de Haute. fort, which had remained vacant, to Mademoiselle de la Fayette, to whose family she was much attached. The queen, quite despairing of obtaining the recall of the former, promised to ask the king. Louis at once complied with her wish, delighted to see by this demand that the queen had renounced all idea of recalling Mademoi selle de Hautefort. Mademoiselle de la Fayette, the daugh ter of an illustrious house, was the last representative in the male line of the fa mous Maréchal de la Fayette, who gained so much renown in 1421 at the battle of Baugé, in Anjou, and who afterwards contributed by his valor and activity in driving the English out of the kingdom, Mademoiselle de la Fayette, an orphan from her cradle, had been educated by her aunt, the Comtesse de Brégi, who placed her in a convent until she was fifteen, after which period her house be came her future home, where Mademoiselle de la Fayette was gradually accustomed to do the honors before being introduced by her friend into the great world. The comtesse was a widow, rich, and very old; she had no children, and loved and adored her niece as her child, He hastened to hide himself in one of the royal residences in the country, when the letter announcing her exile was to be presented to Marie de Medicis, giving her the choice of remaining at Compiègne or in the chateau of Angers, of Nevers, or of Moulins. The disgrace of a sovereign wanting in intellect and discernment is the more overwhelming because generally unexpected. The same weakness of character that leads to the commission of imprudences, shuts the eyes of the understanding to the dangerous consequences sure to be the result. Marie de Medicis was overwhelmed. Anne of Austria, on hearing of this event, saw only in her unfortunate mother-in-law (who had never ceased to persecute the young queen) an unhappy parent. She flew to her apart-looking on her as the person whom she ment, threw herself into her arms, mingled her tears with those of Marie de Medicis, and promised to employ all the little influence she possessed in her favor. She kept her word; but although in reality her conduct was irreproachable, her position was neither that of a happy nor respected wife. Her intercession appeared to Louis XIII. only a pretext for censuring his conduct, and he coldly desired her to be silent. Some few days after the queen-mother, who had selected Compiègne as her residence, disappeared, and went into another country. All the courtiers assured Cardinal Richelieu, who repeated it to the king, that Marie de Medicis was hated by the public, who felt no interest in her fate, and that every one entirely approved of her exile, as a measure rendered necessary by her unbounded intended to make her future heiress. The young lady joined to the most enchanting beauty and great acquirements the utmost propriety of conduct. She had already passed her twenty-third year, and every one was surprised that, amongst her numerous admirers, no one had as yet suc ceeded in winning her regard. The Comtesse de Brégi had experienced all the miseries of an ill-assorted marriage formed in extreme youth; she, therefore, left en tirely to her niece the decision of her fu ture destiny, and far from pressing her marriage, she continually exhorted her not to decide on any one without most mature reflection. Mademoiselle de la Fayette had all the principles that can be imparted by a careful education, and her religious views were sincere and well grounded. She was, moreover, prudent, discreet and sensible; her imagination lively, her soul lofty, generous and full of sensibility; her spirits gay, yet equable. The purity of her mind appeared in a certain calm and peaceful expression that can only be imparted by internal goodness, and which was displayed in all she did. It was easy to see no passion had as yet ruffled the calm of that gentle soul; always happy in herself, she had experienced no internal conflicts, and the agitations of envy, pride, or vanity were utterly unknown to her. Every one was at ease in her company; her conversation possessed those peculiar charms of grace and tact that never fail to attract, added to an unaffected gentleness of bearing, free from all pretensions. She possessed that gift (so rare in a woman) of charming without effect or display, and when all around her were delighted, envy itself could not be irritated, so little had she tried even to attract attention. She excused the faults of others, and indeed avoided making herself acquainted with them; it was enough for her to suspect their existence, to turn away her mind from their consideration as one turns from an unpleasant picture. There are many qualities that are apparent in a first interview, and there are others which only become visible by degrees and after long acquaintance. All are sensible of the brilliancy of a magnificent day, but it is time only that can make manifest the happy influence of pure air and a fine climate; so was it with the admirable qualities of Mademoiselle de la Fayette. No shadow, no contrast made one particular qualification stand out in relief more than another. It was impossible not to think her clever and fascinating, but it required time and observation to discover the full extent of her superiority. the queen's reception; he was more affa ble than even on the former occasion, and seemed entirely occupied with Mademoiselle de la Fayette. The court was at this moment agitated by political events. The Spaniards were making the most alarming progress in France; they had made good a descent into Provence on one side, and on the other had taken Corbie, in Picardy. Louis had announced that very morning at the council that he intended at once to take the command in person against the Spaniards. Men and money were both wanting, and the situation of France was so alarming, that even the genius of Richelieu was perplexed, and for a time he contemplated resigning his post. The Cardinal of La Vallet, however, reänimated his hopes and his courage, and the glory of France served as a specious pretext for still retaining the sovereign authority intrusted to him. Louis, on the eve of departure, and in a situation so critical, excited general interest and attention. Mademoiselle de la Fayette, who until this time had felt only a certain degree of esteem for him, now beheld in Louis a courageous soldier. She forgot his weakness and his faults; she could only remember his personal courage, his amiable qualities, and the dangers he was about to encounter. The melancholy though composed demeanor of the king added to the interest with which he secretly began to inspire her, especially when Louis XIII. publicly announced that he should depart as soon as the levy of twenty thousand men, making at Paris by his order, was completed. The queen and all her ladies were playing at cards. The king was seated by the side of Mademoiselle de la Fayette, and was speaking in general terms of the melancholy anticipations felt by all those about to leave for the war. The day that Mademoiselle de la Fayette was presented at court by the "Happy," said the king, "is the man Princess Marie of Mantova she was mag- who feels that he is personally regretted nificently dressed; all admired the ex--he has a motive in desiring glory. treme beauty of the maid of honor, and Those who are beloved must indeed seek were charmed with an indescribable at- fame with ardor. But when no one cares traction about her. The king, evidently for one-when the mind feels that it pos struck by the naïveté and elegance of her sesses no kindred sympathy-then even whom he then saw for the first time, ap- success is valueless, without merit, and proached Mademoiselle de la Fayette, and without reward." complimented her warmly on her beauty and graceful manners. The maid of honor only blushed aud made no reply. The king was present on the morrow at These words affected the pretty maid of honor. The king observed it. He looked at her fixedly, and after a moment's silence again addressed her: |
