questioned, and his influence concerned, seldom exerted himself to prevent these evils. The Comte de Rochefort, who had entered his service after the decease of Richelieu, has given in his Memoirs strange illustrations of the depravity and brutality of the times; and we find the following account in his diary. “Chance would have it that this day I found myself in company with the Comte d’Harcourt, and, having drunk to great excess, it was determined that we should all set out and rob on the Pont Neuf; an amusement brought into fashionable vogue by the Duc d’Orleans. The Chevalier de Rieux, one of the party, felt, like me, much repugnance to this exploit; and by his advice, instead of joining the party, we climbed up on the neck of the bronze horse of Henry IV, where we might safely view this adventure. Our companions were waylaying the passengers, and had already robbed them of several cloaks, when a party of archers appeared, and they took to their heels. We endeavoured to follow their example; but, in coming down from the equestrian statue, the bronze reins of the horse, on which De Rieux was supported, were broken under his weight, and he fell to the ground, when we were apprehended without any resistance on our part; De Rieux complaining most loudly of the pain he experienced from his fall, while we were both led to the Châtelet.”
The parties were kept some time in prison, De Rieux endeavouring to exculpate himself by throwing all the blame upon Rochefort, the narrator of this anecdote, who forthwith called him out; but, having declined the meeting, Rochefort struck him with the flat of his sword. He then demanded satisfaction from the Comte d’Harcourt, the leader of the unruly party; but the count declined the honour on the plea of his rank. Rochefort then, disappointed in his anxiety to fight, assisted by a neighbour of Harcourt who owed him a grudge, cut down the finest trees on that nobleman’s estate, and destroyed his preserves; till, at last, a friend and partisan of the count, a desperado of the name of Bréauté, sought him, and called him out on the behalf of Harcourt. Rochefort was severely wounded; and Bréauté, who had also received a wound in the thigh, bore off his sword as a trophy of his victory, carrying it to the count, who celebrated his exploit in revelry. Rochefort had been severely wounded in the lungs; but his patron, the Cardinal Mazarin, publicly espoused his cause, and sent him his own surgeon, with a purse of five hundred crowns. On his recovery he again set out to despoil the property of his enemy, accompanied by a fellow of the name of Des Planches; but these worthies fell out upon the road while at supper, and, after throwing plates and dishes at each other, commenced fighting with their fists. Rochefort having amused himself in poaching on the count’s grounds, Des Planches with his followers placed himself in ambuscade, and fired upon him and his party from behind a hedge; apologising after this outrage, on the plea of his having mistaken him for Harcourt and his gamekeepers. Still Mazarin contrived to protect these desperate ruffians: and, although this Des Planches had been dismissed the service in consequence of a dispute with his commanding officer, he returned to Paris under the cardinal’s patronage, to marry a wealthy person; but, his wife being unable to check his desperate mode of living, he died after a drunken party a few years subsequent to his marriage.
This Rochefort, in his Memoirs, gives a curious account of a challenge sent by a person of the name of Madaillan to the Marquis de Rivard, who had lost a leg at the siege of Puy Cerda. As fighting upon an equal footing was considered a point of honour, the marquis sent to his opponent a surgeon with a case of instruments, proposing that he should submit to a similar amputation. The joke was successful, and Madaillan’s wrath was appeased.
At various periods of the French monarchy, and despite the severity of the edicts to prevent hostile meetings, the patronage of distinguished personages was considered sufficient to shield the transgressors from punishment. An anecdote is related of a person who, having been introduced into society by a noble patron, was turned out of doors for cheating at cards, with a threat of being thrown out of the window. He complained of this insult to his protector, who very quietly replied, “What would you have me do? All that I can advise you at present is, never to play at cards except on the ground-floor.”
About this period a duel took place at Brussels between Beauvais, an esquire of the Prince de Condé, and a gentleman who had presumed to walk up stairs before him, in which the offended esquire was mortally wounded. This Beauvais’ ideas of honour were most fastidious, for, although he perilled his life because another gentleman had taken precedence of him, he resisted the earnest entreaties of the prince his master, who on his death-bed requested him to marry a young person whom he had seduced, and so to legitimatize the children she had borne him; one of whom, Uranie, was afterwards married to the Prince of Savoy.
In 1663, a duel took place between La Frette and De Chalais. They were coming out from a ball at the palace, when La Frette, who had had some difference with De Chalais on account of certain ladies, pushed against him, and a meeting of three against three was arranged for the following morning. The King, being apprised of the circumstance, sent his orders to La Frette, adding, that if he did not keep the peace, he would have his throat cut. The bearer of the royal message was Monsieur de Saint Aignan, to whom La Frette replied, that, as he was his cousin, he was certain that he would not break up a pleasant party and one so well arranged; adding, moreover, that, if he felt disposed to join it, he was convinced that he could easily find him an opponent. To this proposal, although the bearer of a royal mandate, Saint Aignan acceded; and, instead of a combat between threes, it was fought by fours, one of the party being the Marquis d’Antin. The King was justly incensed at this act of disobedience, and especially at the conduct of Saint Aignan, who had joined the combatants, instead of fulfilling his pacific mission: all the parties were obliged to quit the kingdom; the La Frettes, however, were soon after pardoned at the intercession of Pope Clement X, who offered on this occasion to absolve the King from his vow against duelling.
The only instance in which the severe laws against duelling were carried into execution was at Toulouse, in the case of the Marquis de la Donze, who had treacherously killed his brother-in-law. Whatever effect this severity might have produced upon the public mind, it did not appear to affect the offender, for, when upon the scaffold his confessor exhorted him to pray for forgiveness for his crime, he replied with the usual Gascon ejaculation, “Sandis! do you call one of the cleverest thrusts in Gascony a crime?”
Another duel which created a great sensation was the one fought between the Counts de Brionne and d’Hautefort; the latter having called the former out for refusing to marry his sister, whom he had courted. Both combatants were wounded, and were proceeded against by the Grand Provost; but, after a short imprisonment, the affair was hushed up.
It is certain that, as Voltaire has justly observed, many disputes, which at other periods must have led to hostile meetings, were settled during this reign without bloodshed. Such, for instance, was the quarrel of the Dukes de Luxembourg and Richelieu about precedence; when, after a long and angry correspondence, Richelieu, meeting Luxembourg in the palace, where he was captain of the guard, went up to him, and told him that he dared him on foot and on horseback, he or his followers, either at court or in city, and even in the army, should he proceed to it, or, in short, in any part of the world. Notwithstanding this provocation, an apology was deemed sufficient. An apology was also considered satisfactory in the dispute which arose between the Prince de Conti and the Grand Prior of Vendôme, at the Dauphin’s, where the prince accused the latter of cheating at play, and moreover called him a coward and a liar: the prior threw the cards in his face, and insisted upon immediate satisfaction. The prince claimed the privilege of his birth; but at the same time condescended to add, that, although he could not infringe the laws by acceding to his challenge, it was an easy matter to meet him. These meetings, which were resorted to, to keep within the pale of the laws, were called rencontres instead of duels: hence originated the term. Howbeit, the Dauphin, hearing of the quarrel, jumped out of bed, and in his shirt, proceeded to terminate the difference. Subsequently making his report to the King, the next morning the Grand Prior was sent to the Bastille, whence he was only liberated on the condition that he should make an humble apology to the Prince de Conti for having been called by him a cheat, a liar, and a poltroon.
Previous to this fracas, a rencontre had taken place between the son of the Count de Latour d’Auvergne and a celebrated
