ch had
its head-quarters in the South, the Duchess, after its chief, the Prince
de Conti, was the most likely person to exercise a decisive influence
alike by the clearness of her intellect, the firmness of her character,
and the great confidence with which she had inspired the entire party.
In 1650 she had covered herself with glory at Stenay, and the eyes of
not only France, but the whole of Europe, were fixed upon her. She was
unable to play the same part at Bordeaux. Invested at Stenay with
supreme authority, she had been compelled, as it were, to display all
the intelligence and energy she possessed: at Bordeaux she was only an
adviser indifferently well listened to. And moreover, in 1650, her frame
of mind was widely different. With a sincere attachment to the interests
of her party and her house, another and more intimate sentiment animated
and sustained her: she loved and was beloved. A reciprocal devotedness
justified in some measure that passion which had already passed through
three long and trying years, and found its aliment and its strength in
common sacrifices. In fact, if Madame de Longueville had braved in
Normandy all kinds of danger and even death to cross the sea in order to
reach the Netherlands and unfurl at Stenay the banner of the Princes, La
Rochefoucauld, too, it must be remembered, had been continually in arms.
That interval was the golden era of their lives. They suffered and
combated for each other. They had the same cause, the same faith, the
same hopes. Their hearts were never more united than during that cruel
year when, separated by civil war, they could scarcely, from the
furthest extremities of France, address each other, amid risks
innumerable, in a few apparently insignificant lines, but through which,
nevertheless, there breathed a tenderness and confidence proof against
everything. Now all was changed. As we have said, La Rochefoucauld had
grown wearied of the Fronde, into which he had hopefully flung himself
in 1648. In 1651 he became desirous of reconciling himself with the
Court, and making a pact which would have infallibly separated them,
since M. de Longueville, irritated with all that had at length reached
his ears, had summoned his wife in a menacing tone to join him in
Normandy. It was she who then, in her turn, was compelled to draw over
La Rochefoucauld. He continued to follow in her footsteps through the
sentiment of devotedness that still lingered in his heart, but witho