age the neutrality of the Catholic states, to promise them a support which he could not afford, and, on pretense of protecting Lorraine, to lay hands on it himself. At length, Wallenstein having resumed the command of the imperialist forces, Gustavus suffered a severe check before Nuremberg. A reaction in public opinion is one of the few things which may always be safely predicted. The world was tired of admiring the virtues and wondering at the deeds of Gustavus. Because on this one occasion he was not victorious, he was of course vanquished forever. So thought Gaston, Duke of Orleans Monsieur, as he was generally called who, since the exile of the queen-mother, had been brooding over past follies, and hatching new disturbances in the Low Countries. He was a specimen of a clever fool; he was devoid both of moral sense and common-sense. He was a craven both in mind and body; his conduct was always either weak or wicked, or both. Under Louis XIII., as under the regency, he was ever in revolt and conspiring with the enemies of his country, often without a chance of success, and still more often defeating his own plots by his clumsy irresolution. He generally escaped punishment by betraying his accomplices; for, like Louis XIII., though never without a favorite, he never had a friend. Though so deficient in judgment, his talents were above the average. He was an admirable speaker, his memory was excellent, and he was a proficient in several branches of science. Imagining the power of Richelieu to be indissolubly bound up with that of his great ally, Gaston resolved upon a decisive blow. He was sure of the assistance of Spain and Lorraine; and he dispatched emissaries into France to secure that of the nobles. He was especially desirous to gain Henri, duc de Montmorency, the Governor of Languedoc. Till now the loyalty of this nobleman had been unblemished. Godson and favorite of Henri IV., devoted to his sovereign, for whom he had gained several battles, the fate that could least have been expected for him was to die as a traitor. After many misgivings, Montmorency consented to join Gaston's cause. We must pass over Gaston's ignomini ous failure, and the capture and condemnation of Montmorency. Petitions poured in from every quarter for Montmorency's pardon. Foreign powers interceded. It was all in vain. "With the head of Montmorency," said the Cardinal to Louis XIII., " his party will fall. The King had perhaps another motive besides the interest of the state. The beauty and misfortunes of Anne of Austria had touched the heart of Montmorency. He styled himself" Chevalier de la Reine;" and when taken prisoner, her picture was found bound upon his arm. Montmorency's accomplished wife, Marie des Ursins, was first cousin to Louis XIII. Her affection for her husband, which neither trial nor time could shake, was well known. She made every possible effort to save him; so did his sister, the Princesse de Condé. But Louis XIII. would neither see them himself, nor permit them to penetrate to the prisoner. Gaston saved himself by signing a treaty containing these words: "That he would not interpose in favor of those who had joined with him on this occasion for their own purposes, and that he would not complain when the King obliged them to suffer the penalty which they deserved." Louis XIII. and Richelieu proceeded to Toulouse. Montmorency was removed thither on the twenty-seventh October. His trial began on the next day. He pleaded guilty, was condemned on the twenty-ninth, and beheaded in the court of the Capitol on the thirtieth. The sta tue of Henri IV., which stood in the center, was sprinkled by his blood. He died like a saint, forgiving all his enemies. In his will he left a valuable picture to the Cardinal. On the night before his execution the whole town was in commotion. The streets swarmed with people demanding his pardon, with loud cries, under the windows of the palace, where Louis XIII., somber, taciturn, and resolved, sat playing at chess his own the only dry eyes in the chamber. of the reign of law; and, considering the manners and opinions of the time, there was both danger and grandeur in daring to strike the blow. The desired effect was obtained. For a long time the party remained without a head; civil war was impossible; and Spain had lost her lever. Conspiracies were reduced to the chances of assassination. But there was a base cruelty in the mode of punishment, which excited mortal enmity against Richelieu. The execution of the noble followers of Montmorency might have been forgiven, but not their being sent to the galleys to row on the same bench with plebeian convicts. Even the daring act of Montmorency's death was done in a cowardly manner. Without doubt, it was the Cardinal's wish, but he had not dared to advise it. He had shown the courage of a priest; not striking himself, but presenting the knife. He felt terribly alone." tainers, walks every morning into the Cardinal's bedroom to ask him how he does, and frighten him almost to death. The Queen and court start without him, and proceed to enjoy the magnificent fetes which his presence would have spoiled. At La Rochelle there were all sorts of rejoicings triumphal arches, tourna ments, naval reviews, concerts, and balls. The Queen was dancing when news arrived which turned all this feasting into mourning. Richelieu was out of danger, and Gustavus was dead. He fell on the plain of Lützen on the sixth of November, 1632. แ "All that romance writes," says M. Michelet, of the fate of heroes was accomplished literally in him: To save the world, to die young, and It is extraordinary that Richelieu chose by a traitor's hand." He goes on to say: "In this very moment, his hands red with the the terrible battle of Lützen, Gustavus overblood of her chevalier, to pay court to and overthrows him; kills his famous generals, powers Wallenstein; beats, wounds, cripples, Anne of Austria. We compress the pictur-even him who was the very incarnation of war esque language of M. Michelet. Found-Pappenheim, who at his birth was marked out in her perpetual plots with Spain, with two bloody swords on the forehead. Gussuspected of collusion with Gaston, the tavus was returning, tranquil and pacific and Queen's position was humiliating. She trusting, as usual, from the dreadful execution. had been forced to accompany this south-His only companion was a petty German prince, ern expedition as a hostage whom it was fired, and Gustavus falls. The companion flies, who had frequently changed sides. A shot is not safe to leave behind. The King at- and goes straight to Vienna.” tended her circle every evening, but spoke only to Mdlle. de Hautefort. Immediately after the closing scene at Toulouse he returned to Paris, leaving her in the hands of the Cardinal, who had carte blanche to treat her as he pleased. Richelieu made an accommodation with Spain the pretext for his sudden change of conduct. It is true he was not young and handsome, but he was successful and all-powerful. Essential to Sweden, desired by Spain, aggrandized by the victories of Gustavus, the abasement of Lorraine, and the discomfiture of Monsieur, Richelieu seemed to hold in his hand the fate of Europe. Richelieu led the terrified court and the trembling Queen in triumph down the Garonne into the Gironde. At Bordeaux he expected to enjoy the mortification of the governor, the Duc d'Epernon. This old man was nearly eighty, and perhaps the shock would kill him. What a satisfaction it would have been to the Cardinal to bury him as he passed through! Vain hope! At Bordeaux the scene changes. Richelieu falls dangerously ill; and the old governor, surrounded by armed re We are happy to be able to disbelieve that Gustavus died by treason. It would have been like the death of Cordelia, too sad for the justice either of truth or of poetry. But our author, trusting to the inspirations of genius, did not think it worth while to study the facts. Gustavus was killed in the beginning of the battle. Pappenheim did not come up till near its close; otherwise there would have been no battle at all. Gustavus would never have attacked a force nnmerically so superior to his own. Gustavus had already made one successful charge at the head of his gallant Swedes, and already made sure of victory. He led them on again; the foe proved too numerous, and the Swedes retreated, not perceiving, in the thick fog, that they had left their king in the hands of the enemy. A pistol-ball shattered his arm, and feeling faint, he requested the Duke of SaxeLauenberg (the homme suspect of M. Michelet) to lead him out of the battle. An imperial cuirassier then shot him in the back; and he is reported to have said to the Duke: "Take care of yourself, brother; I have had enough." He fell from his horse; and a party of the enemy | cite the jealousy of Richelieu, when Berncoming up, asked who he was. "I was hard died, in 1639, at the early age of the King of Sweden," said Gustavus, and thirty-five. Sudden death was so freexpired. His white charger was seen quently the fate of those who stood in the galloping riderless over the field, its Cardinal's way, that strong suspicions housings covered with blood. The were entertained of poison. Swedes knew that their king was dead. Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar assumed the command of an army as eager as he was to avenge their common loss. Wallenstein's troops were completely routed. In vain did Pappenheim's arrival turn the scale for a moment in favor of the imperialists. They were overpowered by the furious onslaught of the Swedes; and Pappenheim fell covered with wounds, willing to die since the mortal enemy of his faith was slain. So ended the memorable battle of Lut zen, in which perished perhaps the great est hero whom the world has ever seen. If the Reformed Church had her saints as well as her elder sister of Rome, we should see many a stately cathedral and decorated altar dedicated to the memory of Gustavus Adolphus. Yet he had none of the bitter exclusiveness which sometimes adheres to sanctity. He was gay and genial, and so sure of his own faith, that he was willing to allow perfect liberty to those of a different persuasion. We read of no persecution sanctioned by him. All Europe, foes as well as friends, mourned for him. For himself, however, his early death was perhaps not to be regretted. Scarcely a cloud had dimmed the splendor of his career. Years might have brought their cares, and ambition and power their temptations, and in time they might have obscured the radiance of a character whose perfection, as it now stands, is an everlasting glory to human nature. It is a satisfaction to reflect that our own countrymen contributed to the success of this great general. In his third campaign Gustavus was served by fiftyseven British officers and ten thousand men. With him, in spite of the skill and the bravery of his successors, the unity and the progress of the Protestants was at an end. At Nordlingen, in 1634, the Swedes, under Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar, were completely routed, and their prestige destroyed. France then stepped in as the champion of Protestantism, and enabled Bernhard to obtain on the Rhine successes so great that they were beginning to ex During the few years which followed the death of Gustavus, the arms of France were far from successful. Richelieu's mania for centralization allowed no discretion to his generals, each of whom had an associate who was at the same time a spy. So little was there of national feeling, that the court rejoiced at the discomfiture of the minister. Foreign affairs were not the only subjects of Richelieu's anxiety. There seemed no end to the plots of the incorrigible Queen. M. Michelet thus describes her at this period of her life: longer young. She was of about the same age "Queen Anne of Austria, in 1637 was no as the century; but she retained the extreme freshness of her complexion; it was all lilies and roses. Flaxen and Austrian in her early youth, her hair had grown darker; she was becoming more Spanish. But as she was fat, her incomparable fairness had only increased. Flora became Ceres in the full meridian, the royal splendor of sumtner. "She nursed her beauty a little too much; ate a great deal, and got up very late, either from southern indolence, or for the sake of her complexion. She heard one or two low masses, dined copiously at noon, and then visited some convent. Of sanguine temperament, proud and passionate, she yet was weak; her attendants called her toute bonne. She was, especialheart was loving, credulous, unguarded. Mme. ly when young, charitable to the poor; her de Chevreuse, who knew her well, said to Retz: Put on a dreamy air, forget yourself in admiration of her white skin, her pretty hands, and you may do what you like with her.' Her ignorance and incapacity made her the tool of interested lovers and intriguing women. drawn nearer to Richelieu; she asked favors of She betrayed whilst she flattered. She had him; she even visited him at Ruel, and accepted his fêtes and his collations, and his verses. "Richelieu was not quite a dupe; he was uneasy at so great a change; and at this very moment he was planning a little plot which should banish Mdlle. de Hautefort, the Queen's advocate-her virtuous spy." He directed the King's attention towards Mademoiselle de Lafayette, a relation of the Père Joseph. She had not the enchanting loveliness of the Aurora, but she possessed qualities which captivate the affections more securely than mere The fear was, lest Laporte might tell still more. beauty. She was dark, slender, and delicate; and her large black eyes were full of tender or lofty feeling. Louis, for the To prevent this, Mdlle. de Hautefort, first time, knew what it is to love and diguised as a grisette, her golden locks be loved Louise de Lafayette was not well hidden under her cap, procured addazzled or corrupted; she felt intense mission to the Bastille, and contrived to pity and sympathy for the man who, be- transmit to Laporte a letter, telling how trayed by all who were nearest and dear- far, but no farther, he might confess. est to him, was dying of premature old The Queen's personal danger was over, age, alone in his splendid solitude. In but not her humiliation. The King never her society Louis shook off his reserve, addressed her, and the courtiers scarcely and showed all the better parts of his dared to raise their eyes to the window nature, his high principles and real kind of her apartment. She was forgiven, but ness; he told her all his griefs and cares. in disgrace. To reinstate her a miracle Richelieu could not induce her to be- was required, and, by the intervention of tray the secrets of her friend. As she re- a saint, a miracle was accomplished. fused to be his instrument, she was to be his victim. Through her confessor he worked upon her scruples, and when Louis in a transport of passion, urged her to accept an apartment in Versailles, and to become wholly his, she was advised to put an impassable barrier between herself and her royal lover. Soon afterwards she announced to the King her intention of taking the vail. He long combated her resolution, but in vain. She entered the convent; but the struggle ended in a serious illness. Richelieu triumphed; so did the Queen, little knowing that she was on the eve of the most bitter humiliation in her life. One of her letters to Madame de Chev reuse, who was dying of ennui in her exile at Tours, fell into Richelieu's hands. It contained allusions to her correspondence with Spain, Lorraine, and England; it had been written at Val de Grace, and it is said that a young cavalier strikingly resembling Madame de Chevreuse rode from time to time from Tours to the convent. Richelieu obtained permission to revisit the Queen's apartments at Val de Grace. His emissaries, however, found only books of devotion and instruments of penance. In the hope of extorting evidence, her confidential servant Laporte was thrown into the Bastille. The Queen at first swore before a priest, on the holy communion which she had just received, that she had written only to Madame de Chevreuse. The Cardinal warned her that he knew more; then, sending away all witnesses, alone with Richelieu, she made a partial confession, throwing herself on his mercy, and promising never to offend again; she offered to him her hand, but the Cardinal drew back with respectful gravity. The intimacy between Louis XIII. and Louise de Lafayette did not cease on the threshold of the convent. From behind the grating of the parlor, she was still permitted to see the King; and her influence became greater than ever. She used it, as she thought, for his happiness. She never ceased to urge him to dismiss the pernicious minister who held him enslaved, and to be reconciled to his wife. She pleaded so eloquently in behalf of Anne of Austria, that at last she succeeded; and in the following year, on the fifth of September, 1638, the whole na tion went mad with joy on the birth of that sublime mediocrity, the prince who was to carry out the designs of Richelieu without his genius, the future Louis XIV. "Richelieu," says M. Michelet, was "speech less. His fate was to be in the hands of the Infanta of Austria, the Spanish regent. In the dry, short compliment which he addressed to the Queen, the words stuck in his throat—' Madam, great joys are silent.' "The future was dark. Richelieu, it is true, need no longer fear Gaston. But who would be the Queen's lovers? That was the question. Hated by her to such an extent, could he induce her to accept a creature of his own? eigner, a priest, an adventurer without birth, A man without family and without root, a forsuited him better than any other. This, if I am not mistaken, is the chief reason why he soon after adopted an Italian, whom he presented himself to the Queen as resembling Buckingham, the acute, the crafty, the handsome Mazarini. Did Richelieu know the man whom he placed so high in France? Perfectly; he knew him to be base, and therefore he chose him. He had seen him false and ungrateful to his earliest patron the Père Joseph. In the beginning of 1638, Joseph, seconded by his young kinswoman Lafayette, had been working against Richelieu. He had made the King promise to recall the queen-mother, and to ask the Pope for | a cardinal's hat for himself. The Pope dared not. Richelieu opposed the claims of Joseph, and urged against them those of Mazarini. Joseph saw that he was cheated. An attack of apoplexy struck him in May; the world said that he was poisoned. He fled from the Cardinal's house to his own convent, received bad news from Rome, and died in two hours after, on the eighteenth of December, 1638. The humiliation of the House of Austria seemed at hand. The sun at length pierced the clouds, and prepared the way for the serene evening which was to close For the stormy career of the minister. the present, however, he was not allowed to pursue his policy in peace. His enemies at home were powerful allies to his enemies abroad. Marching steadily forwards, he had trampled on all that imped had reduced to insignificance; the parliament he had deprived of privilegesusurped indeed, but sanctioned by custom. The people, exhausted by famine and rapine, called aloud for peace. Still no peace could be made till Austria was subdued. "Mazarini had calculated that, as his excelent patron the Père Joseph was at the pointed his progress. Princes and nobles he of death, it was advisable to be on the spot, to insinuate himself into the place while it was yet warm. He established himself in the house of his intimate friend Chavigny, whom he afterwards betrayed, as he had betrayed Joseph. He came, he said, to yield himself soul and body to the great master of politics, to study under him. Richelieu, who, in spite of his greatness, had some foibles of pedantry, took him at his word, and made him his pupil. One day, as his niece returned from the theater, the Cardinal said to her: Whilst you are amusing yourself, I am forming a statesman.' Richelieu saw the value of the tool which he was making. He who had known so many men, had never seen one so acute or so mean. Though not to be deceived, he was to be subdued by hope and by fear. He resolved to push him, and at last obtained for him the cardinal's hat.' Such was the first appearance in France of the man who, with neither strong pas sions nor elevated feelings to interfere with his love of power, with a heart never at variance with his head, though execrated and despised by all, yet beat every rival, oppressed France and its sovereign for fourteen years, and finally died possessed of more absolute power than Richelieu himself. Soon after the birth of the Dauphin, the Cardinal treated the court to a grand fête the ballet of La félicité publique: and this when the arms of France in the Netherlands, in Spain, and in Italy, had met with repeated disasters. But Richelieu was not to be dismayed. In 1640 the scene changed. France turned to good account the revolutions in England, Spain, and Portugal. Arras was wrested from Spain, and soon afterwards General Harcourt entered Turin. At the same time Richelieu's nephew, the young Admiral Brézé, whose career was as glorious as it was short, defeated the Spanish fleet before Cadiz. The rejoicings for these victories were mingled with thanksgivings for a domestic event; a second son, Philippe, duc d'Anjou, was born to Louis XIII. on the 21st September 1640. Plot followed plot, detected, punished, and renewed. One after the other, Richelieu condemned to death the Duc de la Valette, the brother-in-law, and the Duc de Vendôme, the brother of the King. A more formidable conspirator, the Comte de Soissons, was killed by an unknown hand at the head of his rebel army. But the worst of all was to come. Richelieu nourished a serpent in his own bosom. He had at length succeeded in separating Louis XIII. and Louise de Lafayette. He obtained the banishment of Malle. de Hautefort. Thinking female inuflence too powerful, he presented a new favorite to the King, a handsome boy of seventeen, Cinq Mars, the son of his old friend D'Effiat. The King took a violent fancy to this youth, and the insolence and pretensions of the new favorite knew no bounds. He despised the place of premier écuyer, hitherto granted to the King's companions. "C'était bon," he said, "pour de petits gentilshommes ;" for himself, he would be grand écuyer. So he was styled by the court, "M. le Grand." Luxurious and dissipated in his habits, he soon became wearied of the dismal monotony of the King's life, and he made frequent escapes to Marion de Lorme, and to his former jolly companions. These irregularities shocked the grave and decorous Louis XIII., who tried to reform him, and set spies upon his actions. Perpetual quarrels were the result; the King used to draw up procès verbaux signed by the valets, and submit them to Richelieu, who in turn lectured the unhappy favorite. Once or twice he intruded on secret conferences between the King and his min |