Chapter LVI: Letter XLV: PARIS, Friday, August 16, 1675

I could wish all you write to me of M. de Turenne inserted in a funeral oration. There is an uncommon beauty and energy in your style; it has all the force of eloquence that can be inspired by grief. Think not, my child, that the remembrance of him can be lost in this country. The torrent that sweeps every thing away can not remove a memory so well established; it is consecrated to immortality. I was the other day at M. de la Rochefoucault’s, with Madame de Lavardin, M. de Marsillac, and Madame de la Fayette. The premier joined us. The conversation, which lasted two hours, turned wholly on the divine qualities of this true hero. The eyes of every one were bathed in tears, and you can not imagine how deeply the grief of his loss is engraved on all their hearts. You have exceeded us in nothing, but in the satisfaction of sighing aloud, and of writing his panegyric. We remarked one thing, which was, that it is not at his death only, that the largeness of his heart, the extent of his knowledge, the elevation of his mind are admired; all this the world acknowledged during his life. How much this admiration is increased by his death you may easily suppose. In a word, my dear, do not think that the death of this great man is regarded here like that of others. You may talk of it as much as you please; but do not suppose your grief can exceed ours. That none of the devotees have yet taken it into their heads to doubt whether his soul was in a good state, proceeds from the perfect esteem every person felt for him. It is not possible that sin or guilt could find a place in his heart; his conversion,[118] so sincere, appeared to us like a baptism. Every one speaks of the innocence of his manners, the purity of his intentions, his unaffected humility, the solid glory that filled his heart, without haughtiness or ostentation, his love of virtue for its own sake, without regarding the approbation of men, and, to crown all, his generous and Christian charity. Did not I tell you of the regiment he clothed? It cost him fourteen thousand francs, and left him almost penniless. The English told M. de Lorges, that they would continue to serve this campaign to avenge his death; but that they would afterward retire, not being able to serve under any other general after M. de Turenne. When some of the new troops grew a little impatient in the morasses, where they were up to their knees in water, the old soldiers animated them thus: “What! do you complain? It is plain you do not yet know M. de Turenne; he is more grieved than we are when we are in any difficulty. He thinks of nothing at this moment but of removing us hence; he wakes, while we sleep; he is a father to us; it is easy to see that you are but young soldiers.” It was thus they encouraged them. All I tell you is true; I do not load you with idle stories to amuse you because you are at a distance; this would be cheating you, and you may rely upon what I write to you as firmly, as on what I should tell you if you were here. I return to the state of his soul. It is really remarkable that no zealot has yet thought fit to doubt whether it has pleased God to receive it with open arms, as one of the best and noblest he ever created. Reflect a little upon this general assurance of his salvation, and you will find it is a sort of miracle, scarcely known but in his case.

[118] He was originally a Protestant.

The king has said of a certain person, whose absence last winter delighted you, that he had neither head nor heart; these were his very words. M. de Rohan, with a handful of men, has dispersed and put to flight the mutineers, who were formed in troops in his Duchy of Rohan. Our troops are at Nantes, commanded by Fourbin; for Vins is still a subaltern. Fourbin’s orders are to obey M. de Chaulnes; but as M. de Chaulnes is at Fort Louis, Fourbin in effect has the command. You understand what these imaginary honors are, which remain without action in those who have the name of commanders. M. de Lavardin wished much to have this command; he has been at the head of an old regiment, and pretends it was an honor due to him; but his claim was not admitted. It is said that our mutineers have sued for pardon; I suppose they will obtain it, after a sufficient number have been hanged. M. de Chamillart, who was odious to the province, is removed; and M. de Marsillac, who is a worthy man, is made intendant. These disorders no longer prevent me from taking my journey; but there is something here I am unwilling to leave. I have not yet been able to go to Livri, however my inclination may tempt me. Time must be taken as it comes; we wish to be in the center of news in these critical times.

Let me add a word more concerning M. de Turenne. He had made an acquaintance with a shepherd, who knew the roads and the country well; he used to take him along with him, and order his troops to be posted according to his direction. He had a great affection for this shepherd, and esteemed him as a man of good plain sense. He said that Colonel Bec owed his rise to a similar quality; and that he believed this shepherd would make his fortune as he had done. He was pleased with having contrived to make his troops pass without danger; and said to M. de Roye, “In good earnest this seems to me no ill performance, and I believe M. de Montecuculi will not find it so.” It is indeed esteemed a masterpiece of military skill. Madame de Villars has seen another account since the day of battle, in which it is said that the Chevalier de Grignan performed wonders, both in respect of valor and prudence. God preserve him! for the courage of M. de Turenne seems gone over to the enemy; and they think nothing impossible, since the defeat of Marshal de Créqui.

M. de la Feuillade went post to Versailles the other day, where he surprised the king, and said to him, “Sire, some (meaning Rochefort) send for their wives, and some come to see them: I am come only to see your majesty, and to thank you a thousand and a thousand times. I shall see nobody besides your majesty, for it is to you I owe every thing.” He talked a long while with the king, and then taking his leave, said, “Sire, I am going; I beg you to make my compliments to the queen and the dauphin, and to my wife and children.” And he mounted his horse; and in reality saw no other person. This little sally pleased the king much; he told the court, laughing, how he had been made the bearer of M. de Feuillade’s compliments. It is a great thing to be happy; every thing then succeeds; nothing is taken amiss.