together. The men, who knew | desolation became universal. that the great Condé was a hun- His presence did a great The royal army was divided into two corps. Condé fell upon that which lay at Blenau, under the command of Marshal d'Hoquincourt, which was broke almost as soon as attacked. Turenne could not receive advice of this. Cardinal Mazarin, struck with a panic, flew to Gien in the midst of the night, to awaken the king, and acquaint him with this news. His little court was struck with consternation: it was proposed to save the king by flight, and convey him privately to Bourges. The victorious Condé advanced towards Gien, and the fear and Turenne, however, quieted the apprehensions of the people by his steadiness, and saved the court by his dexterity. With the few troops he had left he made such dexterous movements, and so well improved his ground and time, that he prevented Condé from prosecuting the advantage he had gained. It was difficult at that time to determine which of these two generals had acquired the most honour,-Condé by the victory he had gained, or Turenne by having snatched the fruits of his victory from him. It is certain that in this battle of Blenau, which for a long time continued to be famous in France, there were not above four hundred men killed. Nevertheless, the Prince of Condé was on the point of making himself master of the whole royal family, and of getting his enemy, the cardinal, into his hands. There could not well be a smaller battle, greater concerns depending, or a more pressing danger. Condé, who did not flatter himself with the notion of surprising Turrene as he had done Hoquincourt, made his army march to Paris, and hastened to enter that city, and enjoy the glory he had acquired, in the favourable dispositions of a blinded people. The admiration that this last action, which was exaggerated in all its circumstances, had raised in all ranks of people, the general hatred to Mazarin, and the name and presence of the great Condé, seemed at first to make him ab solute master of the capital; but | year to the Spanish king, advanced with his army towards Paris, but Cardinal Mazarin offering him more money to return back than he was to have from the Prince of Condé for advancing, the duke soon withdrew out of France, after having laid the countries waste in his march, and carried off a handsome sum of money from both sides. in fact the minds of the people in general were divided, and each party was split into different factions, as is the case in all civil troubles. The Coadjutor, now become Cardinal de Retz, who had in appearance been reconciled to a court that feared him, and which he equally distrusted, was no longer master of the people, nor acted the principal part in these transactions. He governed the Duke of Orleans and opposed Condé. The parliament fluctuated between the court, the Duke of Orleans, and the prince, but all sides joined in crying out against Mazarin ; every one in private took care of his own concerns. people were like a stormy ocean, whose waves were driven at hazard by many contrary winds. The The shrine of St. Genevieve was carried in procession through Paris to obtain the expulsion of the cardinal minister, and the populace did not in the least doubt that the saint would perform this miracle in the same manner as she grants rain. Nothing was to be seen but negotiations between the heads of parties, deputations from the parliament, meetings of the chambers, seditions among the people, and soldiers all over the country. Guards were mounted even at the gates of convents. The prince had called in the Spaniards to his assistance. Charles IV., Duke of Lorraine, who had been driven out of his dominions, and who had nothing left but an army of eight thousand men, which he sold every Condé then remained in Paris, where his power was every day growing weaker, and his army dwindling away, while Turenne conducted the king and his court towards the capital. The king, who was then fifteen years old, beheld from the heights of Charonne the battle of St. Anthony, in which these two generals, with an handful of troops, performed such great things, as considerably increased the reputation of both, which already seemed incapable of addition. The Prince of Condé, with a few noblemen of his party, and a small number of soldiers, sustained and repelled the efforts of the king's army. The king himself, attended by Cardinal Mazarin, beheld this fight from a neighbouring eminence. The Duke of Orleans, uncertain which side to take, kept within his palace of Luxembourg, and Cardinal de Retz remained in his archbishopric. The parliament waited the issue of the battle to enact new decrees. The people, who at that time were equally afraid of the king's troops and the prince's, had shut the city gates, and would not suffer any one to come in or go out, while the most noble blood of the kingdom was streaming in the suburbs. There it was that the Duke of Rochefoucault, who was so famous for his courage and wit, received a blow over his eyes, which deprived him of his sight for some time. Nothing was to be seen but young noblemen killed or wounded being carried to St. Anthony's gate, which was kept shut. At length Mademoiselle, the Duke of Orleans' daughter, taking Condé's part, whom her father had not dared to assist, ordered the gates to be opened for the wounded, and had the boldness to fire the cannon of the Bastile upon the king's troops. The royal army retired. Condé gained only glory; but Mademoiselle ruined herself for ever with the king her cousin by this imprudent violence, and Cardinal Mazarin, who knew the great desire she had to espouse a crowned head, observed upon this occasion that "those cannon had killed her husband." Most of our historians amuse their readers only with accounts of the battles fought, and the prodigies of valour and politics displayed on these occasions; but whoever is acquainted with the shameful expedients which were put in practice, the wretchedness which was brought upon the people, and the meanness to which all sides were reduced, will look upon the glory of the heroes of these times with more pity than admiration; as we may judge from what we find related by Gourville, a man who was devoted to the Prince of Condé. This writer acknowledges that he himself, in order to procure money for the prince on a pressing occasion, was obliged to rob a receiver's office, and that he went one day and seized a director of the posts in his own house, and obliged him to purchase his liberty with a sum of money; he relates all these outrages as common occurrences at that time. After the bloody and indecisive battle of St. Anthony, the king could neither enter Paris, nor could the Prince of Condé think of remaining there much longer. A commotion of the populace, and the death of several citizens, of which he was thought to be the author, had made him hateful in the eyes of the people. Nevertheless he had still a party in the parliament. This body, who had then little to apprehend from the resentment of a wandering court, driven, as it were, from their capital, being pressed by the Duke of Orleans and the prince's cabals, issued a decree declaring the former lieutenant-general of the kingdom, though the king was then of age. This was the same title which had been conferred on the Duke of Mayenne in the time of the league. The Prince of Condé was appointed generalissimo of the forces. The court, incensed at these proceedings, ordered the parliament to remove itself to Pontoise, which some few of the counsellors did, so that there were now two parliaments, who disputed each other's authority, enacted contradictory decrees, and would by this means have fallen into universal contempt, had they not always agreed in demanding the cardinal's expulsion, so much was hatred to this minister looked upon then as the essential duty of a Frenchman. At that time all parties were alike weak, and the court was as much so as the rest. They all wanted men and money. Factions were daily increasing; the battles which had been fought on both sides had produced only losses and vexations. The court found itself obliged once more to give up Mazarin, whom every one accused of being the cause of these troubles, while he was in fact only the pretence. Accordingly he quitted the kingdom a second time; and, as an additional disgrace, the king was obliged to issue a public declaration, by which he banished his minister, while he commended his services and lamented his exile. THE BATTLE OF DUNBAR. (Dr. Robert Chambers' History of the Rebellions in Scotland.) A.D. 1650. out against the enemy for any length of time. The only other place between Musselburgh and Berwick where it was possible to communicate with his ships was Dunbar; and that was, moreover, the only seaport on the same range of coast which admitted of fortification. He therefore determined to withdraw himself to this little maritime burgh, and there endeavour to entrench himself till he should be relieved from England. IN the impossibility of fighting | there fortify himself, so as to hold the Scottish army, Cromwell sent a message to its leaders, proposing to depart from their country, bag and baggage, and leave them to govern themselves as they pleased, provided they would engage not to press him in his retreat. But that only inspired them with the greater confidence against him. They immediately sent out a party towards Musselburgh, with the view of intercepting his provisions and thereby reducing him to the point of capitulation. It was only by a counter-movement of his own, which he executed during a very tempestuous night, that he was able to save himself. He drew the whole of his army, between night and morning, down to Musselburgh, where his ships were lying, and at daybreak astonished the enemy by showing himself in the very place where they least expected him. He now saw it was time to take some desperate measure for his own relief. It was impossible to remain at Musselburgh, because he could not It was on Saturday the 31st of August, that he commenced this memorable retreat. That night, before the main part of his troops had reached Haddington, the Scottish army, which had immediately come out in pursuit, fell upon his rear of horse, and drove it up to the rear-guard of foot. But a cloud, which, as he himself remarks in a letter, providentially came over the moon at that moment, prevented any further mischief. He quartered in Haddington for the night, and next morning drew out on a field to the south, and offered |