Stray Pearls: Memoirs of Margaret De Ribaumont, Viscountess of Bellaise, Yonge [love books to read txt] 📗

There was a curious scene in our salon the day after the news had come of the great victory of Lens. Clement Darpent had been brought in by my brother, who wished him to hear some English songs which my sister and I had been practicing. He had been trying to learn English, and perhaps understood it better than he could speak it, but he was somewhat perplexed by those two gallant lines—

Annora’s eyes flashed with disappointed anger as she said, ‘You enter not into the sentiment, Monsieur. I should have hoped that if any Frenchman could, it would be you!’

‘For my part,’ observed my mother, ‘I am not surprised at the question not being appreciated by the gens de la robe.’

I saw Eustace look infinitely annoyed at this insult to his friend’s profession, and to make it worse, Gaspard, who had come home that morning from the palace, exclaimed, having merely caught the word ‘honour’—

‘Yes, the gens de la robe hate our honour. That is why the King said, when news of our great victory came, ‘Oh, how sorry the Parliament will be!’

‘Did he?’ exclaimed my mother. ‘Is it true, my grandson?’

‘True; yes indeed, Madame ma Grandmere,’ replied Gaspard. ‘And you should have seen how all the world applauded him.’

‘I would not have applauded him,’ said Eustace sadly. ‘I would have tried to teach him that nothing can be of more sad omen for a king than to regard his Parliament as his enemy.’

‘My son,’ returned my mother, ‘if you must utter such absurdities, let it not be before this child. Imagine the consequence of his repeating them!’

‘Ah! sighed Darpent, ‘it would be well if only, through child lips or any others, the King and his mother could learn that the Parliament can heartily rejoice in all that is for the true glory and honour in justice and in the well-being of her people, and that we love above all!’

‘There,’ said I, glad to turn the conversation from the dangerous political turn it was taking, ‘I knew it was merely the language and not the sentiment of our song that Monsieur Darpent did not comprehend.’

And when it was translated and paraphrased, he exclaimed, ‘Ah! truly Mademoiselle may trust me that such sentiments are the breath of life to those who are both French and of the robe. May ONE at least live to prove it to her!’

The times were threatening in France as well as in England, for if in the latter realm, the thunderbolt had fallen, in the former, the tempest seemed to be gathering. They say that it dispersed after a few showers, but there are others who say that it is only stored up to fall with greater fury in later times. Ah, well! if it be so, I pray that none of mine may be living to see it, for I cannot conceal from myself that there is much among us that may well call down the vengeance of Heaven. Yet, if our good Duke of Burgundy fulfil the promise of his youth, the evil may yet be averted.

The Parliament of Paris had made an attempt to check the reckless exactions of the Court by refusing to register the recent edicts for taxation, and it was this that made the Queen so angry with them. Eustace began to explain that it had been the unfortunate endeavour to raise money without the consent of Parliament that had been the immediate cause of the troubles in England for which they were still suffering. This implied censure of King Charles so displeased my mother that she declared that she would listen to such treason no longer, started up and quitted the room, calling Annora with her. Poor Annora gave one of her grim looks, but was obliged to obey; I did not feel bound to do the same, as indeed I stood in the position of hostess: so I remained, with Gaspard leaning on my lap, while my brother and M. Darpent continued their conversation, and the latter began to describe the actual matter in debate, the Paulette, namely, the right of magistrates to purchase the succession to their offices for their sons, provided a certain annual amount was paid to the Crown. The right had to be continually renewed by fresh edicts for a certain term. This term was now over, and the Crown refused to renew it except on condition that all that salaries should be forfeited for four years. To our English notions the whole system was a corruption, but the horrible ill faith of the Court, which ruined and cheated so many families, was nevertheless shocking to us. Clement Darpent, who had always looked on the Paulette as a useful guarantee, and expected to succeed to his father’s office as naturally as Eustace had done to the baronies of Walwyn and Ribaumont, could not then see it in the same light, and expatiated on the speeches made by the Councillors Broussel, Blancmesnil, and others, on the injustice of such a measure.

Gaspard caught the name of Blancmesnil, and looking up, he said ‘Blancmesnil! It is he that the King says is a scoundrel to resist his will; but he will soon be shut up. They are going to arrest him.’

‘Pray how long have they taken little imps like thee into their counsels?’ demanded Eustace, as we all sat petrified at this announcement.

‘It was the Duke of Anjou who told me,’ said Gaspard. ‘He was sitting at the foot of the Queen’s bed when she settled it all with M. le Cardinal. They will send to have coup de main made of all those rogues as soon as the Te Deum is over tomorrow at Notre Dame, and then there will be no more refusing of money for M. le Prince to beat the Spaniards with.’

‘The Duke should choose his confidants better,’ said Eustace. ‘Look here, my nephew. Remember from henceforth that whatever passes in secret council is sacred, and even if told to thee inadvertently should never be repeated. Now leave us; your mother needs you no longer.’

My little boy made his graceful bow at the door, looking much perplexed, and departed. I rose likewise, saying I would forbid him to repeat his dangerous communication, and I trusted that it would do him no harm.

‘Madame,’ said M. Darpent, ‘I will not conceal from you that I shall take advantage of what I have heard to warn these friends of my father.’

‘You cannot be expected to do otherwise,’ said Eustace; ‘and truly the design is so arbitrary and unjust that, Cavalier as I am, I cannot but rejoice that it should be baffled.’

‘And,’ added Darpent, before I could speak, ‘Madame may be secure that no word shall pass my lips respecting the manner in which I received the warning.’