actions against them, which they
as constantly defended. He accused them of revolt--they accused him of
scheming. They profited by his disgrace, and omitted nothing to shake
off the yoke which, when in favour, he had imposed on them. These broils
went on, until at last a suit, which Cardinal de Bouillon had commenced
against the refractory monks, and which had been carried into Grand
Council of Paris, was decided against him, notwithstanding all the
efforts he made to obtain a contrary verdict. This was the last drop
which made the too full cup overflow, and which consummated the
resolution that Cardinal had long since had in his head, and which he now
executed.

By the terms of his exile, he was allowed to visit, without restraint,
his various abbeys, situated in different parts of the realm. He took
advantage of this privilege, gave out that he was going to Normandy, but
instead of doing so, posted away to Picardy, stopped briefly at
Abbeville, gained Arras, where he had the Abbey of Saint-Waast, thence
feigning to go and see his abbey of Vigogne, he passed over into the camp
of the enemy, and threw himself into the arms of the Duke of Marlborough
and Prince Eugene. The Prince d'Auvergne, his nephew, had deserted from
France in a similar manner some time before, as I have related in its
place, and was in waiting to receive the Cardinal, who was also very
graciously welcomed by Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough, who
introduced him to the heads of the army, and lavished upon him the
greatest honours.

Such a change of condition appeared very sweet to this spirit so haughty
and so ulcerated, and marvellously inflated the Cardinal's courage. He
recompensed his dear hosts by discourses, which were the most agreeable
to them, upon the misery of France (which his frequent journeys through
the provinces had placed before his eyes), upon its powerlessness to
sustain the war; upon the discontent which reigned among the people; upon
the exhaustion of the finances; in fine, he spared nothing that perfidy
or ingratitude could suggest to flatter them and gain their favour.

No sooner had the Cardinal had time to turn round among his new friends
than he wrote a letter to the King announcing his flight--a letter which
was such a monstrous production of insolence, of madness, of felony, and
which was written in a style so extravagant and confused that it deserves
to be thus specially alluded to. In this letter, as fu