and Chateauneuf
in nowise proposed to re-establish Mazarin; Chateauneuf did not dream of
making another man's bed, but, once having attained power, he intended
to keep it for himself, and Mazarin was firmly resolved to dismiss
Chateauneuf as soon as he could. But if these crafty politicians were
ready to betray one another in everything else, there was one point on
which they were sincerely united--the destruction of Conde. At that they
laboured in concert, or rather vied with each other. Queen Anne
manifested therein a fervour, a constancy, a marvellous skill, and
succeeded in carrying off from Conde the chief supports of his great
strength. He saw that war was inevitable, and yet, says Sismondi, he
only yielded to it with repugnance. "You will have it so," said Conde at
last; "but understand that if I do draw the sword, I shall be the last
to return it to the scabbard." It was the women especially who hurried
their admirers into the _melee_.

Considering the nomination of the New Cabinet, with Chateauneuf at its
head, as a veritable declaration of war, Conde went to Chantilly, and,
it is said, had a very narrow escape from falling into an ambuscade
which the Court had prepared for him at Pontoise.

He remained for some few days at Chantilly, pensive and agitated in
presence of the great resolution he was on the eve of taking. The
mediation of the Duke d'Orleans, the only one he could accept, offered
no security, the Duke instead of governing the Coadjutor and Madame de
Chevreuse, was then governed by them. His individual inclination was to
come to an understanding with the Queen and even with Mazarin, as he had
very clearly shown. He had continually returned to it; but after so many
lying words and odious plots, the execution of which alone was wanting,
he thought he would be in a better position to treat solidly with the
Court at the head of a powerful and victorious army, than in the midst
of wretched intrigues, unworthy of his character, in which he
momentarily staked his honour and his life. He never permitted the idea
of raising himself above royalty to enter into his mind; he merely
thought that to obtain better conditions from it it was necessary to
render himself imposing to it, and to make himself feared. That is what
was then passing in his mind. Civil war inspired him with horror, and we
may learn from La Rochefoucauld,[1] who was then in his most intimate
confidence, that he long weighed "the consequences