Chapter 2 CHANTILLY AND THE CONDéS

THE family of Condé derived their origin from the French town Henegau, in Flanders, where a certain Godefroy de Condé owned part of the barony of Condé as early as 1200. In 1335 his great-granddaughter married Jacob de Bourbon, who in due course became the ancestor of the Royal branch of the Bourbons.

His second son received for his inheritance the barony of Condé, and it was one of his descendants, Louis de Bourbon, who eventually took the title of "Prince de Condé." This Louis was one of the many sons of the Duc de Vend?me, only surviving brother of the famous Constable, Charles de Bourbon, who met a premature death at the Sack of Rome in 1527: a turbulent spirit who caused Henry VIII to say to Francis I, "Mon frère de France a là un sujet dont je ne voudrais pas être le ma?tre."

Plate VI.

Photo. Giraudon.

ANTOINE DE BOURBON. CHARLOTTE DE LA TREMOILLE.

School of Fran?ois Clouet. School of Fran?ois Clouet.

Musée Condé

To face page 26.

The eldest brother Antoine de Bourbon, by his marriage with Jeanne d'Albret (daughter of Marguerite, sister of Francis I), became King of Navarre; and their son, Henri IV, succeeded to the throne of France on the death of Henri III de Valois. Louis de Bourbon, first Prince de Condé,[2] married Eleonore de Roye, granddaughter of Louise de Montmorency, a sister of the famous Constable Anne and mother of the Huguenot chief, Gaspard de Coligny. It was no doubt owing to the influence of his wife Eleonore-so named after the second wife of Francis I-that the Prince de Condé embraced the Protestant cause, and was thenceforward regarded by the Huguenots as one of their leaders. Eleonore was on terms of great intimacy with her sister-in-law, Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, who had herself become a Protestant; and one may fairly assert that if Antoine de Bourbon, King of Navarre, and his brother Louis de Condé, had in any way equalled their noble wives in pious sentiment and religious fervour, the Protestant Faith in France would never have been nipped in the bud, but would have become as firmly established there as it did in England and Germany.

As it was, the Guises of Lorraine who embraced the Catholic cause gained considerable ground after the death of Henri II, through their cousin Mary Stuart, Queen of France; and with the ostensible object of furthering this cause, they also tried to supplant the Bourbon Princes, Antoine de Navarre and Louis de Bourbon Condé, who were by right nearer the throne. The latter during the reign of Francis II was thrown into prison for high treason, under a false accusation brought against him by the Guises, and condemned to death. In her despair, his unhappy wife, Eleonore, threw herself upon her knees before the King, imploring permission for a last interview. The young King was about to relent; but the Cardinal of Lorraine, fearing that she might attain her object, drove her roughly from the Royal presence. The unscrupulous Guises had even conceived a plan of making away with this Princess before her husband; for (as a contemporary writer tells us) they feared her intellect and courage in proclaiming her husband's innocence. They hoped to get rid, not only of her, but also of the King of Navarre and the Chatillons. But at this juncture a change occurred in political affairs.

Plate VII.

Photo. Giraudon.

LOUIS I. DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDé. HENRI I. DE BOURBON, PRINCE DE CONDé.

School of Fran?ois Clouet. School of Fran?ois Clouet.

Musée Condé.

Francis II, whose health had always been delicate, suddenly showed alarming symptoms of decline. Catherine, the Royne Mère, cast about to get the Regency into her own hands; and in order to check the steadily growing power of the Guises, she resolved to recall the Bourbons, promising to save Condé from death if they would accept her as Regent. The King of Navarre, Antoine de Bourbon, consented to her proposition in order to save his brother. The terrified Guises entreated Catherine to keep Condé still in prison; since he would, if set at liberty, get the better of them all. It is characteristic to note that when the state of the King's health became desperate, the Guises were wholly without sympathy; though we read that Mary Stuart nursed her dying husband with tenderest solicitude. As soon as the King had breathed his last, Gaspard de Coligny addressed these memorable words to those who stood by: "Messieurs, le roi est mort, ?ela nous apprend à vivre."

The death of Francis II opened Condé's prison doors; whereupon he insisted on proving his innocence, and claiming punishment for those who had caused his incarceration. The Guises began to tremble, and their friends trembled with them. Meantime, Catherine de Medicis, always intent on her own interests, tried to placate the Protestant nobility, and even showed toleration for the Protestant cult in various parts of France. She endeavoured to entice Condé to her Court through the charms of one of her Court ladies-the beautiful Isabelle de Limeuil-in order to make him an instrument for her own purposes. Brant?me, with reference to this, speaks of Louis de Bourbon as a man of corrupt morals. Nor could he resist the passion shown for him by Marguerite de Lustrac, widow of the Maréchal de Saint-André, from whom he accepted the magnificent chateau of Valery, with its vast appanage, originally intended as a dowry for Mademoiselle de Saint-André, the affianced bride of his own son Henri I de Bourbon, who had died young, poisoned, it is said, by her mother. Condé's irregular habits called for the severe rebuke of Calvin, and his noble wife Eleonore was broken-hearted over them.

Antoine, King of Navarre, the eldest of the brothers, also became a puppet in the hands of the Queen-Mother and the Guises, who deliberately provoked the sanguinary conflicts at Vassy between the Huguenots and the Catholics.

Jeanne d'Albret, who sided with the Protestants, left the Court in consequence, and to the great regret of Eleonore, retired to her kingdom of Navarre. Had the husbands of these two great ladies been equally desirous of keeping the peace the Massacre of St. Bartholomew would never have taken place. Indeed, when Eleonore de Roye died at the early age of twenty-eight the Protestants of France lost faith in Condé as their leader, believing that it was through her influence alone that he served their cause.

When Eleonore felt her end approaching she sent a messenger for her husband and upon his hurrying to her bedside most generously forgave him for all his infidelities. Her eldest son, Henri I de Bourbon, who had shared all her anxieties and who had been her constant companion, listened with deep emotion to her exhortations to his father that he should remain true to the Protestant Faith; and the memory of this noble woman prevailed with Condé after her death.

Plate VIII.

Photo Giraudon.

FRAN?OIS II. KING OF FRANCE.

Francois Clouet.

Bibl. Nar. Paris.

To face page 20.

The intriguing Catherine, after much wavering, then declared herself upon the Catholic side, and compelled Michel de l'H?pital, who had tried to reconcile the two parties, to resign. The consequence of this decision was the bloody battle of Jarnac, where Condé died the death of a hero. No one could deny that he loved and honoured France, and that he was a great warrior. Even the Guises, his implacable enemies, endeavoured to conciliate him, and tried to arrange, after his wife's death, a marriage between him and Mary Stuart. How different, if this alliance had been accomplished, would have been the destinies of that ill-fated Queen![3]

Henri I de Bourbon[4] succeeded his father as Prince de Condé, and secured the friendship of Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre; so that when the Huguenots, after the disaster of Jarnac, shut themselves up in La Rochelle, the widow of Antoine de Bourbon appeared in their midst and presented to them her son Henri de Béarn, together with his cousin the young Prince de Condé. Under the guidance of Gaspard de Coligny these two young Princes were received amongst the leaders of the Protestant army, at that time in a critical position and in great pecuniary straits. The young Prince de Condé disposed of most of his jewels, whilst Coligny and Jeanne d'Albret made similar sacrifices. These jewels were sent to Queen Elizabeth of England as security for a sum of money forwarded by her to the Protestant forces.

Coligny seems to have thought highly of the abilities of the young Condé Prince, to whom he deputed the command in his absence.

It is indeed remarkable that so fervent a Calvinist as Jeanne d'Albret should have consented to the engagement of her son to Margot de France, youngest daughter of Catherine de Medicis. It is true that the horrors of St. Bartholomew had not then taken place, nor had the close ties of relationship between the houses of Valois and Navarre at that date been loosened. At the same time a marriage was arranged by Jeanne d'Albret between Henri de Condé and Marie de Clève, daughter of the Duc de Nevers and Marguerite de Bourbon. This lady was rich, accomplished, and of rare beauty; and it was an open secret at the time that the Duc d'Anjou (afterwards King Henri III) was madly in love with her.

Plate IX.

Photo. Giraudon.

JEANNE D'ALBRET, QUEEN OF NAVARRE.

Fran?ois Clouet.

Musée Condé.

To face page 21.

The marriage of the Prince de Condé was an occasion for great rejoicing amongst the Protestant party, when all at once news arrived of the sudden death of Queen Jeanne d'Albret under suspicious circumstances. It was rumoured that Catherine de Medicis wished to remove her before the nuptials of her son Henri of Navarre and Margot de France. The douce enfant (as Francis I called her, when Dauphine of France) had schooled herself well to the difficult position in which as a young wife she found herself with Diane de Poitiers; but as Queen-mother and Regent she developed into a false and ambitious woman, who actually planned the carnage of St. Bartholomew on the eve of her own daughter's marriage to the chief of the Huguenot party.

It does not enter into our present work to describe the horrors for which she was responsible on that occasion, but it is sufficient to say that Gaspard de Coligny found his death, whilst the lives of Condé and of the King of Navarre were only spared on the condition that they abjured the Protestant Faith. Condé, however, at first persisted in a refusal, although his young wife obeyed. For this reason he was summoned before the boy King, Charles IX, who, advancing towards him, called out, "The Mass, Death, or the Bastille, Choose!" "God will not allow," said Condé quietly, "that I choose the first, my King! The two other alternatives are at your pleasure." In a fury, the King rushed upon him and would have slain him then and there, had not the Queen, Elizabeth of Austria-the only redeeming feature of this contemptible Court-thrown herself at the feet of her husband to prevent him. Finally, however, the two Bourbon Princes did attend Mass, and the Cardinal de Bourbon gave Condé and his bride the nuptial benediction in the church of St. Germain des Prés.

But this was not enough; for both Navarre and Condé were forced to fight against those very Huguenots whose leaders they had been; and they were compelled to march under the command of the Duc d'Anjou against that same La Rochelle where Condé had passed so many years with his noble friend Gaspard de Coligny, engaged in furthering the Protestant cause.

In 1574, however, upon the death of Charles IX, Condé and Henri of Navarre again joined the Protestant forces. Not so Marie de Clève, who was even trying to make this a plea for a separation when she died suddenly in giving birth to a daughter.[5] Twelve years later Condé contracted another marriage, with Charlotte Catherine de la Trémoille.

We propose in this brief sketch of the Condé family, who eventually became Lords of Chantilly, to say something also regarding the lives of the Princesses de Condé, since some of them rank amongst the most noble and interesting women of their time. Charlotte de la Trémoille[6] was the daughter of the Duc de Thouars and Jeanne de Montmorency. She lived with her mother in the fortified castle of Taillebourg, and was of a romantic turn of mind and very handsome. Condé, presented by her brother, the young Duc de Thouars, whilst he chanced to be in the neighbourhood, paid a visit to the young lady; and although of the opposite party-for the Trémoilles were Catholics-he came unattended. He showed her more attention than was his usual custom, so that she fell in love with him. She was but seventeen years of age, whilst Condé was by that time thirty-three, but without an heir to his name. He had a fine head and well-cut features; his expression was pensive, and betrayed a delicate and nervous constitution. The fact of his being a Prince of the Blood Royal and of illustrious lineage stimulated, no doubt, Mademoiselle de la Trémoille's poetic imagination.

When, after the disaster of Angers, Condé was compelled to go into hiding in Guernsey whilst vainly soliciting the help of Queen Elizabeth, he saw one morning two well-equipped ships approaching the harbour. The captain of the party presently sent one of his officers to the Prince, bearing a letter from Charlotte de la Trémoille begging him to make use of these, her ships. Condé, who had remained so long a helpless prisoner on the island, embarked at once, and upon his arrival at La Rochelle found the Princess awaiting him at that port.

A few days later the wedding was celebrated quietly at the Chateau de Taillebourg: both the Princess and her brother having become adherents of the Reformed Faith before that event took place.

In 1587 a daughter was born to Condé, named Eleonore after her noble grandmother, who subsequently married the Prince of Orange.

In that same year (1587) the eighth and last religious war broke out in France, known as the War of the Four Henris-Henri III, Henri de Guise, Henri of Navarre, and Henri de Bourbon Condé. The first battle was fought at Coutras, between the Duc de Joyeuse, who commanded 7,000 men for Henri III, and the joint forces of Henri of Navarre and Henri de Condé, who had between them but 5,000 men. The fight was a prolonged one and ended in a victory for the two Bourbons, who both greatly distinguished themselves, "Messieurs," cried Navarre, before the fight began, "souvenez vous que vous êtes de la maison de Bourbon. Vive Dieu! Je vous ferai voir que je suis votre ainé!" "Et nous, vous montrerons des bons cadets," replied Condé.

But Duc Henri de Guise presently restored the fortunes of the Catholics by the victories of Vimory and Auneau, wherein no less than twenty thousand Protestants perished.

Henri III, true Valois that he was, was not, however, grateful to the victor. Jealous of his success and growing popularity, he caused him to be foully murdered at the Chateau of Blois, whither he had summoned him from Paris. The Cardinal de Lorraine, his brother, shared his fate.

Even Catherine de Medicis, then on her deathbed, was horrified at her son's treachery towards the Guises, who had fought so ably for the Catholic cause. "Vous avez fait mourir le duc de Guise!" she exclaimed; "Dieu veuille que vous vous trouviez bien de l'action que vous venez de faire. Mais vous ne pouvez, je crois, vous en felicitez. Ce n'est pas tout de tailler, il faut savoir coudre."

Plate X.

CATHERINE DE MEDICIS. HENRI II.

Attributed to Corneille de Lyon. Fran?ois Clouet.

Musée Condé. Bibl. Nat. Paris.

To face page 26.

When the news of the murder of the two Guises became known in Paris, greatest public indignation was aroused; and the Sorbonne declared that France ought to strive earnestly against such a King. In order to save himself, the wretched King made overtures to Henri of Navarre, addressing him as "brother." A reconciliation took place between them, and together they laid siege to Paris with an army of 40,000 men. Before, however, the assault took place, Henri III was murdered by a fanatic monk, designating with his last breath Henri of Navarre as his successor to the throne of France, but imploring him at the same time to embrace the Catholic Faith.

The crown thus devolved upon Henri de Bourbon, King of Navarre, as lineal descendant of Robert de Clermont, sixth son of Saint Louis; whilst Henri de Bourbon Condé, his cousin, became heir-presumptive. The health of the latter, however, began to fail, owing partly to an injury incurred by a fall from his horse, and partly to severe attacks of fever. Trusting to a partial recovery, he ventured too soon into the saddle, being, according to a contemporary writer, over-fond of riding, and in consequence suffered a relapse which ended fatally. Tifburn, the faithful custodian of the Chateau de Saint-Jean d'Angely, thus describes his unexpected death: "I was the person selected to report this sad mischance to the Princess, and I found her coming down the stairs of the large apartment to visit her husband. He had been ill, and had become worse since the day before, but none would have supposed the end was so near. When she saw me so downcast she pressed me to tell her what had occurred. When she heard the sad news she fainted, and had to be transported to her bed, where she sobbed and cried and would not be consoled."

Henri IV, on hearing of this disaster, hastened to Saint-Jean d'Angely; but on the way information reached him that two of the Princesse de Condé's servants-her page, Belcastle, and a valet-had suddenly disappeared, and that they had fled on two horses, kept in readiness for them by one Brillant, known to be a procurer employed at the castle. On hearing this, he turned the bridle of his horse, unwilling to interview the widowed Princess.

In a letter to la belle Corisande, Duchesse de Grammont, he writes regarding this incident as follows: "Jeudy, le Prince de Condé ayant couru la bague, il soupa se portant bien. A minuit lui prit un vomissement très violent, qui luy dura jusqu'au matin. Tout le Vendredy il demeura au lit. Le soir il soupa, et ayant bien dormi, il se leva le Samedi matin, dina debout, et puis joua aux eschecs. Il se leva, se mit a promener par sa chambre, devisant avec l'un et avec l'autre. Tant d'un coup il dit: 'Baillez moi ma chaise, je sens une grande faiblesse.' Il n'y fut assis qu'il perdit sa parole, et soudain après il rendit l'ame, et les marques du poison sortirent soudainement."

When Brillant was interrogated, he denied everything, but under torture he made admissions which greatly compromised the widow of the dead Condé. Subsequent versions of the story stated first that the Catholic party had administered the poison; and later that the Prince had died a death in full accordance with the malady from which he was suffering. Nevertheless the poor Princess had to bear the burden of this terrible charge. She was allowed to remain in her own apartments only until she gave birth to a son, who was pronounced by all who saw him to greatly resemble the late Prince de Condé; and the fact that Henri ultimately consented to become godfather to the child destroyed all false accusations. For many years, however, she was kept under close guard at Saint-Jean d'Angely; and in the archives at Thouars there still exist some touching letters from her to her mother and to the Constable de Montmorency, asserting her innocence and imploring help. She also describes her straitened circumstances, her allowance being quite insufficient to supply the needs of her children, Eleonore and Henri. Throughout all her trials she behaved with singular fortitude, until at length, when her son Henri de Bourbon was recognised as the legitimate son of his father, and thenceforth held the position of heir-presumptive, she was allowed to return to Court. De Thou even obtained an order directing the French Parlement to come immediately to Saint-Germain to salute the Prince as heir to the throne until it should please God to give children to the King himself. Henri IV displayed considerable anxiety that his heir should receive the best possible education, and that he should embrace the Catholic Faith, as he himself had done. Thus the tradition of the Princes de Condé as Huguenot Princes was abruptly broken; and Charlotte Catherine de la Trémoille also abjured the Protestant Faith with great ceremony at Rouen. She then endeavoured to conciliate the Catholic party, but they never forgave her for the great services which she had rendered Condé at Guernsey.

In the preceding chapter we have related the matrimonial adventures of this Prince, and how when Henri IV fell passionately in love with his young wife, the beautiful Charlotte de Montmorency, he fled with her to the Netherlands to seek the protection of Eleonore, Princess of Orange, until the death of the King.[7]

On his return he became the principal factor in opposing the government of Richelieu, for he was highly dissatisfied that the Regency during the minority of Louis XIII had not passed to him, as premier Prince of the Blood, but had been seized upon by the Queen-Mother before he could reach France. The government of Berry was given to him with one and a half million of francs as a sort of compensation-which, however, did not satisfy him. Subsequently he was accused of having designs on the throne, and although this was not proved, Richelieu, in the name of the Regent, had him arrested. He was imprisoned in the Bastille and treated most rigorously as a State criminal. It is greatly to the credit of his wife that she volunteered to share his captivity. It was most touching how she arrived at the Bastille accompanied by her little dwarf, who refused to be separated from her. A journal[8] of that time states that the meeting of the Princess with her unfortunate husband was most affectionate, and that he repentantly asked her forgiveness for past wrongs.

Owing to his precarious state of health he was soon after removed to the Chateau of Vincennes, where he was allowed more liberty, and there he could take exercise on the top of a thick wall built in the form of a gallery. The poor Princess, once so radiant in beauty, suffered cruelly; and at the birth of a still-born son her life was despaired of.

At last, after nearly three years of imprisonment when her little daughter Geneviève de Bourbon was born, their prison-walls opened and they were free at last.

But presently Henri de Montmorency, the Princess's brother, who had but recently succeeded his father as Lord of Chantilly, was thrown into a dungeon, whence he only emerged to be guillotined later at Toulouse. Unfortunately he had sided with Gaston, the King's brother, in a conspiracy against the mighty Cardinal. In vain his wife, Marie Felice Orsini, pleaded for her husband. She herself was imprisoned for two years for doing so; and when finally released, retired for the rest of her life to a convent at Moulins, where she was known and much beloved as "Sister Marie."

The whole property of the last Montmorency, the last scion of so illustrious a race, was confiscated after his execution, and Chantilly fell to the Crown. A house called La Cabotière, bearing to this day the Royal coat-of-arms, marks this transition period; and not far from it is the so-called Maison de Sylvie, which recalls Marie Felice Orsini. It was there that she and her husband hid the poet Théophile de Viau, who had been condemned to death; and from this retreat he sang in charming verses the beauty and the noble qualities of the Princess under the name of "Sylvie."

These cruelties against the Montmorencys and the Condés, Louis XIII in after-years never ceased to regret, and when on his deathbed he wished to atone for them he summoned Henri II, Prince de Condé, and told him that Chantilly should be restored to his wife, the Princess, as sister of the last Montmorency. Thus Chantilly came back to its rightful owners.