he
conclusion that if Walpole knew anything about the compact--and we
think he did know something about it--he was quite right in not
allowing it to disturb his policy of non-intervention, but that he was
not quite sound in his judgment if he held his peaceful course only
because he did not believe that such a family bond between members of
such a family would hold good. "Tenez, prince," the Duc d'Aumale wrote
to Prince Napoleon-Jerome in a pamphlet which was once famous, "there
is one promise of a Bonaparte which we can always believe--the promise
that he will kill somebody." One pledge of a Bourbon with another
Bourbon the world could always rely upon--the pledge to maintain a
common interest and gratify a common ambition.

[Sidenote: 1735--Death of Berwick]

The war cost one illustrious life, that of the brave and noble Duke of
Berwick, whom Montesquieu likened to the best of the heroes of
Plutarch, or rather in whom Montesquieu declared that he saw the best
of Plutarch's heroes in the life. When Bolingbroke was denouncing the
set of men who surrounded James Stuart at St. Germains he specially
exempted Berwick from reproach. He spoke of Berwick as one "who has a
hundred times more capacity and credit than all the rest put together,"
but added significantly that he "is not to be reckoned of the Court,
though he has lodgings in the house." Berwick was the natural son of
James the Second and Arabella Churchill, sister to the Duke of
Marlborough. When the day of James's destiny as King of England was
over, Berwick gave his bright sword to the service of France. He
became a naturalized Frenchman and rose to the command {35} of the
French army. He won the splendid victory of Almanza over the combined
forces of England and her various allies. "A Roman by a Roman
valiantly o'ercome," defeated Englishmen might have exclaimed. He was
killed by a cannon-ball on ground not far from that whereon the great
Turenne had fallen--killed by the cannon-ball which, according to
Madame de Sevigne, was charged from all eternity for the hero's death.
Berwick was well deserving of a death in some nobler struggle than the
trumpery quarrel got up by ignoble ambitions and selfish, grasping
policies. He ought to have died in some really great cause; it was an
age of gallant soldiers--an age, however, that brought out none more
gallant than Berwick. Of him it might fairly be said that "his
mourners were two hosts, his friends and fo