objects of art he had been all his life collecting,
he said, ‘All that must be left behind!’
And, turning round, he added, ’And that too!
What trouble I have had to obtain all these things!
I shall never see them more where I am going.’”
He had himself removed to Vincennes, of which he
was governor. There he continued to regulate
all the affairs of state, striving to initiate the
young king in the government. “Nobody,”
Turenne used to say, “works so much as the cardinal,
or discovers so many expedients with great clearness
of mind for the terminating of much business of different
sorts.” The dying minister recommended
to the king MM. Le Tellier and de Lionne, and
he added, “Sir, to you I owe everything; but
I consider that I to some extent acquit myself of
my obligation to your Majesty by giving you M. Colbert.”
The cardinal, uneasy about the large possessions
he left, had found a way of securing them to his heirs
by making, during his lifetime, a gift of the whole
of them to the king. Louis XIV. at once returned
it. The minister had lately placed his two nieces,
the Princess of Conti and the Countess of Soissons,
at the head of the household of two queens; he had
married his niece, Hortensia Mancini, to the Duke
of La Meilleraye, who took the title of Duke of Mazarin.
The father of this duke was the relative and protege
of Cardinal Richelieu, for whom Mazarin had always
preserved a feeling of great gratitude. It was
to him and his wife that he left the remainder of
his vast possessions, after having distributed amongst
all his relatives liberal bequests to an enormous
amount. The pictures and jewels went to the
king, to Monsieur, and to the queens. A considerable
sum was employed for the foundation and endowment of
the
College des Quatre Nations (now the Palais
de l’Institut), intended for the education
of sixty children of the four provinces re-united to
France by the treaties of Westphalia and the Pyrenees,
Alsace, Roussillon, Artois, and Pignerol. The
cardinal’s fortune was estimated at fifty millions.
Mazarin had scarcely finished making his final dispositions
when his malady increased to a violent pitch.
“On the 5th of March, forty hours’ public
prayers were ordered in all the churches of Paris,
which is not generally done except in the case of
kings,” says Madame de Motteville. The
cardinal had sent for M. Jolt, parish-priest of St.
Nicholas des Champs, a man of great reputation for
piety, and begged him not to leave him. “I
have misgivings about not being sufficiently afraid
of death,” he said to his confessor. He
felt his own pulse himself, muttering quite low, “I
shall have a great deal more to suffer.”
The king had left him on the 7th of March, in the
evening. He did not see him again and sent to
summon the ministers. Already the living was
taking the place of the dying, with a commencement
of pomp and circumstance which excited wonder at the
changes of the world. “On the 9th, between