the woods, with his cavalry all fresh, does Beck rush down to fall upon our exhausted men the prince has been beforehand with him; the broken battalions cry for quarter, but the victory is to be more terrible than the fight for the Duke of Enghien.  Whilst with easy mien he advances to receive the parole of these brave fellows, they, watchful still, apprehend the surprise of a fresh attack; their terrible volley drives our men mad; there is nothing to be seen but slaughter; the soldier is drunk with blood, till that great prince, who could not bear to see such lions butchered like so many sheep, calmed excited passions, and to the pleasure of victory joined that of mercy.  He would willingly have saved the life of the brave Count of Fuentes, but found him lying amidst thousands of the dead whose loss is still felt by Spain.  The prince bends the knee, and, on the field of battle, renders thanks to the God of armies for the victory he hath given him.  Then were there rejoicings over Rocroi delivered, the threats of a dread enemy converted to their shame, the regency strengthened, France at rest, and a reign, which was to be so noble, commenced with such happy augury.” [Bossuet, Oraison funebre de Louis de Bourbon, Prince de Conde.] Victory or death, below the cross of Burgundy, was borne upon most of the standards taken from the Imperialists; and “indeed,” says the Gazette de France, “the most part were found dead in the ranks where they had been posted.  Which was nobly brought home by one of the prisoners to our captains when, being asked how many there had been of them, he replied, “Count the dead.”  Conde was worthy to fight such enemies, and Bossuet to recount their defeat.  “The prince was a born captain,” said Cardinal de Retz.  And all France said so with him, on hearing of the victory of Rocroi.

The delight was all the keener in the queen’s circle, because the house of Conde openly supported Cardinal Mazarin, bitterly attacked as he was by the Importants, who accused him of reviving the tyranny of Richelieu.

[Illustration:  The Great Conde——­348]

A ditty on the subject was current in the streets of Paris:—­

          “He is not dead, he is but changed of age,
          The cardinal, at whom men gird with rage,
          But all his household make thereat great cheer;
          It pleaseth not full many a chevalier
          They fain had brought him to the lowest stage. 
          Beneath his wing came all his lineage,
          By the same art whereof he made usage
          And, by my faith, ’tis still their day, I fear. 
                         He is not dead.

          “Hush! we are mum, because we dread the cage
          For he’s at court—­this eminent personage
          There to remain of years to come a score. 
          Ask those Importants, would you fain know more
          And they will say in dolorous language,
                        ‘He is not dead.’”