what course to take, I waited upon his Majesty, and
thanked him for his gracious offer, but said I dreaded
the weight of so remote a see, and that my years wanted
advice, which it is difficult to obtain in provinces
so distant. I added to this other arguments,
which you may guess at. I was in this adventure
also more happy than wise. The King continued
to treat me very kindly. This circumstance,
and the retreat of M. de Noyers, who fell into the
snare that Chavigni had laid for him, renewed my hopes
of the coadjutorship of Paris. The King died
about this time, in 1643. M. de Beaufort, who
had been always devoted to the Queen’s interest,
and even passed for her gallant, pretended now to
govern the kingdom, of which he was not so capable
as his valet de chambre. The Bishop of Beauvais,
the greatest idiot you ever knew, took upon himself
the character of Prime Minister, and on the first
day of his administration required the Dutch to embrace
the Roman Catholic religion if they desired to continue
in alliance with France. The Queen was ashamed
of this ridiculous minister, and sent for me to offer
my father—[Philippe Emmanuel de Gondi, Comte
de Joigni; he retired to the: Fathers of the
Oratory, and became priest; died 1662, aged eighty-one.]—the
place of Prime Minister; but he refusing peremptorily
to leave his cell and the Fathers of the Oratory, the
place was conferred upon Cardinal Mazarin.
You may now imagine that it was no great task for
me to obtain what I desired at a time that nothing
was refused, which made Feuillade say that the only
words in the French tongue were “La Reine est
si bonne.”
Madame de Maignelai and the Bishop of Lisieux desired
the Queen to grant me the coadjutorship of Paris,
but they were repulsed, the Queen assuring them that
none should have it but my father, who kept from Court;
and would never be seen at the Louvre, except once,
when the Queen told him publicly that the King, the
very night before he died, had ordered her expressly
to have it solicited for me, and that he said in the
presence of the Bishop of Lisieux that he had me always
in his thoughts since the adventures of the pinmaker
and Captain Coutenau. What relation had these
trifling stories to the archbishopric of Paris?
Thus we see that affairs of the greatest moment often
owe their rise and success to insignificant trifles
and accidents. All the companies went to thank
the Queen. I sent 16,000 crowns to Rome for
my bull, with orders not to desire any favour, lest
it should delay the despatch and give the ministers
time to oppose it. I received my bull accordingly;
and now you will see me ascending the theatre of action,
where you will find scenes not indeed worthy of yourself,
but not altogether unworthy of your attention.
BOOK II.