Stray Pearls: Memoirs of Margaret De Ribaumont, Viscountess of Bellaise, Yonge [love books to read txt] 📗
- Author: Yonge
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‘I shall wait till he comes,’ said the Prince and Eustace gave SUCH a look of thankfulness, and pressed the hand that had been laid in his.
The Duke, with politeness, asked permission of my mother to write a billet to his brother, with a report of Lord Walwyn, at the writing-table in the room. He wrote two—one to the King, another to the chaplain, D. Hargood, bidding him obtain orders from King Charles to remain with Lord Walwyn; and he despatched them by the gentleman who had followed him, asking permission of my mother to remain a little while with my lord.
Poor mother! she could not refuse, and she did, after all, love her son enough to be relieved, as an air of rest and confidence stole over his features, as the princely boy sat down by him, begging that he might spare some one fatigue while he was there. She sent me away, but would not go herself; and I heard afterwards that the Duke sat very still, seldom speaking. Once Eustace asked him if he had his Book of Common Prayer, for his own had been put out of his reach.
‘This is my sister’s,’ said the Duke, taking out a little worn velvet book. ‘Shall I read you her favourite Psalm?’
He read in a low gentle voice, trained by his ministry to his sweet sister. He read the Easter Epistle and Gospel too; and at last Eustace, relaxing the weary watch and guard of those dreadful days, dropped into a calm sleep.
If a miracle of recovery could be said to have been wrought, surely it was by Duke Henry of Gloucester.
Long and patiently the boy say there; for, as it turned out, the King was in the Cours de la Reine playing at bowls, and it was long before he could be found, and when Dr. Hargood brought it at last the Prince had actually watched his friend for four hours. He might well say he had been trained in waiting! And he himself gave the bouillon, when Eustace awoke without the red flush, and with softer breathing!
The King had actually done more than the Duke had asked; for he had not only given orders that the chaplain should come, and, if desired, remain with Lord Walwyn, but he had also sent the Queen’s physician, the most skilful man at hand, to oust the Dominican. We heard that he had sworn that it was as bad as being in a Scotch conventicler to have cowls and hoods creeping about your bed before you were dead, and that Harry had routed them like a very St. George.
CHAPTER XXX. — THE NEW MAID OF ORLEANS (Margaret’s Narrative)
I was summoned to the Luxembourg Palace on the Tuesday in Holy Week, the 25th of March. My dear brother was then apparently much better, and gaining ground after the attack of hemorrhage caused by his exertions to save M. Darpent from the violence of his assailants.
He did not appear to need me, since he could not venture to talk more than a few words at a time; and, besides, my year’s absence had left me in such arrears of waiting that I could not ask for leave of absence without weighty grounds. My mother was greatly displeased with me for not having cut short the interview between Darpent and Annora, although it seemed to have served her purpose by embroiling them effectually; but she could not overlook so great an impropriety; and I confess that I was not sorry to avoid her continual entreaties to me to give up all intercourse alike with the Darpents and Ommneys, and all our English friends. I had satisfied myself that M. Darpent was in no danger, and I was willing to let the matter blow over, since Lady Ommaney, though imprudent, had only done a good-natured thing from the English point of view.
I found my Princess in great excitement. Cardinal Mazarin had rejoined the King and Queen, and they were at the head of one army, the Prince of Conde was at the head of another. The Parliament view both Cardinal and Prince as rebels, and had set a price upon the Cardinal’s head. On the whole, the Prince was the less hated of the two, yet there were scruples on being in direct opposition to the King. The Cardinal de Retz was trying to stir the Duke of Orleans to take what was really his proper place as the young King’s uncle, and at the head of the Parliament, to mediate between the parties, stop the civil war, convoke the States-General, and redress grievances. But to move Monsieur was a mere impossibility; he liked to hear of his own power, but whenever anything was to be done that alarmed him, he always was bled, or took physic, so as to have an excuse for not interfering.
And now the royal army was approaching Orleans, and Monsieur could not brook that the city, his own appanage, should be taken from him. Yet not only was he unwilling to risk himself, but the Coadjutor and he were alike of opinion that he ought not to leave Paris and the Parliament. So he had made up his mind to send is daughter, who was only too much charmed to be going anywhere or doing anything exciting, especially if it could be made to turn to the advantage of the Prince of Conde, whom she still dreamt of marrying.
I found her in a state of great importance and delight, exclaiming: ‘My dear Gildippe, I could not do without you! We shall be in your element. His Royal Highness and M. le Cardinal de Retz have both been breaking my head with instructions, but I remember none of them! I trust to my native wit on the occasion.’
We all got into our carriages, a long train of them, at the Luxembourg, with Monsieur looking from the window and waving his farewell to his daughter, and the people called down benedictions on her, though I hardly know what benefit they expected from her enterprise. We had only two officers, six guards, and six Swiss to escort us; but Mademoiselle was always popular, and we were quite safe.
We slept at Chartres, and there met the Duke of Beaufort, who rode by the carriage-window; and by and by, at Etampes, we found 500 light horse of Monsieur’s regiment, who all saluted. Mademoiselle was in ecstasies; she insisted on leaving her carriage, and riding at their head, with all the ladies who could sit on horseback; and thus we came to Toury, where were the Duke de Nemours and others of the Prince’s party.
My heart was heavy, I hardly knew why, with fore-bodings about what might be passing at home, or I should have enjoyed the comedy of Mademoiselle’s extreme delight in her own importance, and the councils of war held before her, while the Dukes flattered her to the top of her bent, laughed in their sleeve, and went their own way. She made us all get up at break of day to throw ourselves into Orleans, and we actually set out, but we had to move at a foot’s pace, because M. de Beaufort had, by accident or design, forgotten to command the escort to be in attendance.
By and by a message was brought by some gentlemen, who told Mademoiselle that the citizens of Orleans had closed their gates and were resolved to admit nobody; that the Keeper of the Seals was on the farther side, demanding entrance for
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