s of the power of that irresistible fascination which
procured her adorers and suitors wherever she wandered, even among the
occupants of thrones. She had faith likewise in the Queen's friendship,
and a firm reliance that the time would come when that friendship would
repay her for all her devotedness. But now age she felt was creeping
upon her; her beauty, verging towards its decline, promised her
henceforward conquests only few and far between. She perceived that in
losing her power over Anne of Austria's heart, she had lost the greater
portion of her prestige both in France and Europe. The flight of the
Duke de Vendome, shortly about to be followed by that of the Duke de
Bouillon, left the _Importants_ without any chief of note. The Duchess
had found Mazarin to be quite as skilful and formidable an enemy as
Richelieu. Victory seemed to have entered into a compact with him. De
Bouillon's own brother, Turenne, solicited the honour of serving him,
and the young Duke d'Enghien won battle after battle for him. She knew
also that the Cardinal had that in his hands wherewith he could condemn
and sentence her to incarceration for the rest of her days. When,
however, almost every one forsook her, this extraordinary woman did not
give way to self-abandonment. As soon as the exempt Riquetti had
signified to her the order of which he was the bearer, she adopted
measures with her accustomed promptitude, and, accompanied by her
daughter Charlotte, who had hastened to her mother and refused to quit
her, she succeeded in reaching by cross-roads the thickets of La Vendee
and the solitudes of Brittany; until, approaching within a few leagues
of St.-Malo, she solicited an asylum at the hands of the Marquis de
Coetquen. That noble and generous Breton gave her the hospitality which
was due to such a woman struggling against such adversity. Marie de
Rohan did not abuse it; and after placing her jewels in his hands for
safety, as she had formerly done in those of La Rochefoucauld,[1] she
embarked with her daughter in the depth of winter at St.-Malo, on board
a small vessel bound for Dartmouth, whence she purposed crossing over to
Dunkirk and entering Flanders. But the English parliamentarian
men-of-war were cruising in the Channel. They fell in with and captured
the wretched little bark, and carried her into the Isle of Wight. There
Madame de Chevreuse was recognised; and as she was known to be a friend
of the Queen of England, the Roundhead