fessed, and I had him carried to Bergues, where his leg was cut off. He told me of his second meeting, of the bravery and honour of his antagonist, and a quarter of an hour after he died. It was a great pity, for he was a very brave gentleman, and threw away his life from having ventured to trifle with the feelings of a man of courage, because he was not of his own rank." One which follows is not much better. Probably not even in Ireland is any thing like it to be found now. The anecdote of the provost marshal, which follows, might have furnished a hint to the author of Quentin Durward. "During the three days the army remained at Bergues, after it was taken, a soldier, who was condemned to be hanged by Montiffaut, Provost of the army, being on the ladder, De Levy, Count Brion, first equerry to the Duke of Orleans, passed by, and begged Montiffaut to suspend the execution, until he could gallop on to beg a pardon for the man, from his royal highness. Montiffaut promised he would: notwithstanding which, he hanged him as soon as the count was gone. Brion returned in half an hour; and, when he reproached Montiffaut with his breach of promise, the other only replied that the spectators began to get tired." Two years after their marriage, he lost his wife, at which, he says, he was extremely afflicted. "She loved me tenderly," says he;" she had great virtue, and considerable beauty and wit." She left him three daughters, the eldest two years old. Several of Bussy's letters are to be found among the celebrated correspondence of his cousin, Madame de Sevigné. Whether those which are to be found in these volumes, are among the number, we do not now remember. They are characterized by the graceful ease, the delightful playfulness, which distinguish the letters of this gifted family, almost every member of which was celebrated for the charm which the language borrowed from their pens. There are two or three specimens of this inimitable grace "beyond the reach of art," in these memoirs, which we read for ever with undiminished pleasure and admiration, and with utter despair of transferring it to another language. We must, therefore, leave them to such of our readers as think it worth while to hunt them out. The amusements of a party of these warriors and gentlemen, during the siege of Lerida, are illustrated in rather a remarkable manner by the following scene; nor is the conclusion of it unworthy of the opening. If we were inclined to be national, we should say, the whole is very French; but we are more inclined to impute such disgusting defects of sympathy to vicious institutions, and to believe that they will produce such fruits, in whatever oil they may be planted. "The Chevalier de la Valière, maréchal de camp for the day at Marshal de Grammont's trench, sent, early in the morning, to ask me to dine with him, to meet Barbantane, Lieutenant of the Gendarmes d'Enghien, and Jumeaux, Maréchal de Bataille, two of my best friends. I accepted the invitation, and went at seven o'clock to the opening of the marshal's trench, which was in the walls of an old ruined church. As soon as I arrived, breakfast was served: we had the prince's (Condé) violins; while they were playing, Barbantane, who did not know what to do for amusement, pulled up the covering of a tomb, and found within it a body entire, and wrapped in the grave clothes. He brought it to us, and La Breteche, ensign of the Gendarmes d'Enghien, taking it by one hand, and he by the other, they made it dance between them. I was shocked at this, and I told them so repeatedly, that I thought this an absurd diversion, that they at length replaced the body in the grave. Dinner time being arrived, we sat down to table with the gaiety usual at such meetings, and repeated a thousand songs which we taught De la Valière, who had not been in France for three years,-in short, we were very merry. At the end of dinner, the Marquis de la Trousse, who was to relieve the Chevalier, came in, to see what he was to do the following night, and finding us at table, said to La Valière, ' Go on, comrade, don't let me interrupt you.' The chevalier, who was brave, and was not so drunk as not to know very well that he ought to shew La Trousse what he had done, and what he thought he (La Trousse) ought to do, left us, as he said, for a moment, but he did not keep his word; for, a moment afterwards, one of his people came in, calling out, that his master was killed. The fact was, La Trousse commonly affected to expose himself unnecessarily, and to walk at the top of the trench rather than in it the chevalier, who did not chuse to be outdone, followed his example, and so received a musquet-ball in the head. We went on with our dinner as if nothing had happened, (so true it is, that war hardens men's hearts, and destroys all feelings of humanity). Jumeaux did not forget his own interest, and leaving us to finish our debauch, he went to ask the prince to give him the government of Fleix, vacant by the death of the chevalier, which he obtained." : The accidents which befel the members of this sprightly party, gave occasion to the report, that the body with which they had so strangely amused themselves, was that of a saint; but Bussy, with great naiveté, says, that "this was not true; for that there was nulle dévotion à cette église, and that moreover, the chastisement, if it were one, fell upon the wrong persons, since Barbantane and La Breteche escaped, while La Valière was killed, Jumeaux died soon after, and he himself fell ill." There are certain feelings and decencies which cannot be outraged, without risking the loss of all sympathy, and the disregard of all principle. It was worthy of men who could find pleasure in so disgusting a spectacle, to make merry at the table of their friend just as his brains were blown out, and to rise from it to solicit the place left vacant by his death. But we do not believe that war, corrupting as it is, is the sole cause of this ferocious levity; for that, we must again recur to the institutions which crush the serious virtues of the citizens of a free state. Bussy got a fall from his horse, and, according to the sanitary code then in force, is bled, and put into a sheep's skin, hot from the body of its late occupant, by which he was, of course, cured, and able to mount his horse again in four days. In the following trait of a private soldier, we recognize somewhat of the character of the hero-calm, firm, unobtrusive bravery. "A light-horseman of the prince's company, named Dupré, to whom I had given leave to water his horse, had part of his foot carried off by a cannon ball; without betraying the least emotion, he came and had it dressed at the épaulement, and went to finish his guard, where the prince found him, and ordered him to go to his quarters. He did me the honour, immediately, to tell me of the man's firmness, and desired me to remind him to provide for him in some way; which he did not fail to do." Bussy's project for a second marriage is in a style yet more noble than the first. His uncle, the Grand Prieur, proposes to him a widow, "who had millions." "I," says he, with great naiveté, “who was on the look out for money, because I knew it contributed greatly to the attainment des grands honneurs, easily believed all that was told me on this subject." A negotiator is accordingly employed, who arranges an interview, (in the strict sense of the word, for they were not to be introduced,) in order that it might be ascertained, that there was no repugnance on either side. The ambassador reports, that the lady is satisfied, but that her relations wish her to marry un homme de robe, and that M. Bussy must employ a little gentle force. Upon this hint, he arranges an enlèvement; but after he has actually carried off the lady, he finds, to his consternation, that he had been misinformed-hoaxed, in short, and that his captive was by no means a willing one. He accordingly releases her: she thinks it necessary for her honour to institute proceedings against him, and instead of possessing himself of his "widow with millions," he has to pay handsomely for his enterprize. The whole adventure is highly characteristic of the lawless state of the country, but there are two passages, which afford such evidence of the insecurity of person and property, that we cannot forbear quoting them. The lady's father, naturally enough, wishes to obtain some redress for so gross an outrage. This Bussy calls persecution, and applies to the Prince de Condé for protection. "As soon," says he," as he had read my letter, and heard from my courier the details of the affair, he wrote to the lady's father, in a style which bespoke not only the prince of the blood, but the victorious general; so that his letter silenced my adversaries." Some time after this, the prince sends him into Burgundy. "I set out," says he, "determined to set fire to Rubel, the house of a brother of Madame de Miramion, who, contrary to all the promises she had given the prince, had renewed her persecution of me since my departure from Paris. Nevertheless, when I arrived at Rubel with my company, I changed my determination; and though, by revenging myself on my persecutors, I should have gained favour at Court, where any injuries one might do to the officers of the parliament were a recommendation, I did not chuse to do it. On the contrary, I put a guard into the house, and forbid him to take anything, either from the seigneur or the people." This magnanimity, he complains, did not win the lady's heart, nor even appease her resentment, and he was at last obliged to his friends, and to the authority of the prince, for getting out of the affair with the loss of fourteen thousand livres. : At this time (1649,) fortune seems to have begun that persecution of him which she continued, with nearly unrelenting severity, up to the termination of these memoirs he was supplanted in the favour of the Prince de Condé, for whom he appears to have had a sincere admiration and attachment, by a young cornet of his company, who laboured very effectually to ruin him with the prince. On occasion of a momentary return of kindness, he says, "This is the way of princes, and particularly in France, where they know, that after they have offered a thousand affronts and mortifications to a gentleman, the slightest caress on their part will recal his attachment, and make him forget the past." A useful sort of knowledge this, and pretty sure to be turned to account. The war of the Fronde was now at its height, and Bussy, who was engaged on the prince's side, was very near being killed in the streets of Paris, from a drunken captain of the guard at the Porte St. Martin, shouting Au Mazarin. Disgusted at the prince's coldness and neglect, he determines to quit his service, and concludes an agreement to resign his post of lieutenant to the prince; an agreement which, however, was not fulfilled. He begins his account of the transactions of the year 1650, by regretting that he was engaged against the king, which, he says, would not have happened if he could have got the money from Guitaut. 1 On the 19th of January, in that year, the Prince de Condé, the Prince de Conti, and the Duke de Longueville, were arrested and sent to Vincennes. Bussy, and others of their adherents, proposed carrying off Cardinal Mazarin's nieces, as hostages; but this had been foreseen, and guarded against, by their wily uncle. After the slights he has received from the Prince, Bussy feels himself fully at liberty to pursue his own affairs, and he concludes a second marriage with a Mademoiselle de Rouville, of whom we hear nothing, except that she was of high birth and some fortune, and that she had the honour to be cousin to Margaret of Lorraine, Duchess of Orleans, who brought her up. Six weeks after his marriage, he accompanies some other of the prince's officers to Monrond, a castle, which the former Prince de Condé had strongly fortified. "I recollect," says he, "that as we travelled thither post, we changed our names, and a young volunteer, whom I had with me, named Launay-Lyais, a great coxcomb, thought it would give him the air of a man of quality to change his name. While he was debating what name he should take instead of his own, Tavannes, who was always teazing him on the score of his vanity, and thought this extremely ridiculous, said, 'Why, sir, if you like the name I have taken, I will call myself Launay-Lyais, and I am sure I shall be more effectually concealed than any one of the company.' This made us all laugh heartily, but the poor volunteer was nearly mad at it." In the beginning of the year 1651, the princes were at liberty, and after a continuation of ill treatment, on the part of the Prince de Condé, Bussy resigns his lieutenantcy to him, for ten thousand crowns down, and a promise of twenty thousand livres. After great deliberation, as to the side he ought to take, after praying to be directed in his choice, he resolves to go over to the king, and concludes with the following re mark : "This was the only time I was ever engaged against the king, and not only I protest it shall be the last, but I advise my son, and all my friends, never to attach themselves to any other than his majesty; for, besides duty, which ought to be our first law, the greatest prince, who is a subject, cannot make the fortune of more than one man of quality, at the most, and even that a limited fortune." The war of the Fronde is too well known to render it necessary for us to follow our hero through its details. He seems to have served the king with more zeal and ability than good fortune. He was continually misrepresented and calumniated to the king; ali his applications for places of honour, or profit, |