The death of the dowager-queen, after her long illness and suffering, brought a temporary lull in the dissipations and rush of frivolity at the Court. Moreover, the breaking-out of the war with Spain, on account of Louis XIV.’s claim on Flanders in right of his wife, left the king no time for the usual Court routine. And then it was that he showed himself a king indeed, leading his troops to victory. In three weeks, with Condé—once again completely in favour, all his revolts no longer remembered—and Turenne, whom Louis told that it was his wish to learn from him the art of war, Franche Comté was conquered. It was the dawn of a brilliant series of victories, and of the glory and power of the France of Louis’s earlier years. And now came a strange wooing, begun undeniably on the part of the lady—no less a personage than the Grande Mademoiselle, now arrived at the discreet age of forty-two—when she fell in love with Monsieur de Lauzun, colonel of the just created first regiment of dragoons, one of the many distinctions conferred on him by Louis. Youngest son of a noble Gascon family—described by Bussy Rabutin as “one of the least men in mind as well as body that God ever created”—elsewhere he is pictured to us as one having a sort of talent, which, however, consisted in turning everything and everybody into ridicule, worming out their secrets, and playing upon their foibles. He was noble in his carriage, and lived in splendid style. He loved high play, and played like a gentleman. His figure was very diminutive, and it is incomprehensible how he could ever become a favourite with the ladies; but that he was in a notable degree. The Duchesse de Montpensier conceived a passionate admiration for this little gentleman; she who had aspired to be queen of France, or empress of Germany, and had refused the crown of England, went _folle_ for love of Antoninus de Caumont, Count de Lauzun. This, however, was not the beginning of his career at Court, where he had been introduced by his relation, the Maréchal de Grammont. Small as Lauzun was, he bore himself splendidly; he had the grand air which Louis so greatly admired, and it helped to win him almost boundless consideration from the king. When the mastership of the Ordnance became vacant, Louis promised it to him; on condition, however, that for the present Lauzun should keep the matter a secret. This was seeking too much of his vanity and boastfulness, and the secret being one no longer, reached the ears of the minister Louvois, who at once went to the king, and with much good sense and grave reasoning over the unwisdom of such an appointment, persuaded His Majesty to withdraw his promise. Lauzun thereupon burst into the king’s presence, wild with rage, hurled a storm of reproaches on him, and taking his own sword, he snapped it across his knee, vowing that he would never again serve a prince who broke his word in such shameful fashion.