Part 22 (2/2)
”I went to him and led him near a window. With his pride and his haughty air, he appeared to me the Emperor of all the world. I commenced: 'You have testified so much friends.h.i.+p for me during so long a time, that I have the utmost confidence in you, and I do not wish to act without your advice.'” Lauzun protested, as was fitting, his grat.i.tude and his devotion, and Mademoiselle continued: ”It is plainly to be seen that the King wishes to marry me to the Prince de Lorraine; have you heard this mentioned?” No, he had ”heard nothing of it.” Mademoiselle poured out some confused explanations as to her reasons for wis.h.i.+ng to remain in France, in the hope of finding at length true happiness. ”For myself,”
concluded she, ”I cannot love what I do not esteem.” Lauzun approved all and demanded: ”Do you think of marrying?” She responded navely, ”I become enraged when I hear people calculating upon my succession.” ”Ah,”
said he, ”nothing would give me greater delight than to marry.” At this moment, the Queen came out of the _oratoire_ and it was necessary to part. Lauzun had betrayed nothing. Nevertheless, Mademoiselle felt very happy: ”I thought, there is one important step taken, and he can no longer mistake my sentiments; on the first occasion, I will learn his. I was well content with myself and with what I had done.”
Lauzun had in fact really comprehended that the Grande Mademoiselle was throwing herself at his head, and he was well pleased to enter into the game at all risks, in order to gain what he could. Without actually reaching the marriage ceremony, the love of a grand princess can be of advantage in many ways. He took pains, therefore, to renew the conversation, and employed all his art, all his wit, in default of feeling, in keeping the flame alight in the breast of the old maid and in flattering the weaknesses which united with the movements of her heart in increasing the desire for marriage. Mademoiselle could not support the vision of the heirs always on the watch; Lauzun accentuated and sympathised with her annoyance at overhearing such phrases as ”This one will have that territory, another will inherit this land.” ”I find your vexation very reasonable,” said he, ”for one should live as long as possible and not love those who desire our death.”
Mademoiselle could not resign herself to growing old. This was not coquetry, of which she could not be accused; it was the conviction that on account of her high birth she was a privileged creature. She said very seriously, ”People of my quality are always young,” and she dressed as at twenty, and continued to dance.
Lauzun attacked this delicate subject and did not hesitate to speak unpleasant truths before offering the soothing balm held in reserve. It was his habit to treat women brutally in order to make them submissive, and in this case there were double reasons for doing so. ”His maxim,”
relates Saint-Simon, ”was that the Bourbons must be rudely treated and the rod must be held high over their heads, without which no empire could be preserved over them.” This system had succeeded tolerably well with Louis XIV. Lauzun could well believe, in these early times, that it would also be successful with his cousin, so humbly did she accept his harshness.
He said to her: ”I find that you are right to take a husband, nothing in the world being so ridiculous, no matter what may be the rank, as to see a woman of forty wrapped up in the pleasures of the world, like a girl of fifteen, who thinks of nothing else. At this age, a woman should be a nun or at least a _devote_, or she should remain at home modestly dressed.”
He admitted that Mademoiselle, on account of her high rank, might const.i.tute an exception, and that she might be permitted at long intervals to hear one or two acts of the opera; but her duty as old maid was ”to attend vespers, and to listen to sermons, to receive the benediction, to go to a.s.semblies for the poor, and to the hospitals.” Or else to marry; this was the alternative which pointed his moral. ”For once married,” continued he, ”a woman can go anywhere at any age; she dresses like others, to please her husband, and goes to amus.e.m.e.nts because he wishes his wife not to appear peculiar.”
Every word impressed itself on the mind of the loving Princess. When Saint-Simon, who was intimate with Lauzun, read the _Memoires_ of Mademoiselle, he found the account of this adventure so true and lively that he renounced the attempt to relate it himself. ”Whoever knew Lauzun will at once recognise him in all that Mademoiselle relates, and his voice can almost be heard.” Through a very natural contradiction, the Grande Mademoiselle, even at the height of her pa.s.sion, preserved ”some regret that she would no longer be queen in foreign lands.” Lauzun tried to banish this regret. He represented to her that the trouble of playing at royalty
surpa.s.sed the pleasure. If you had been really Queen or Empress you would soon have been bored.... You can now dwell here all your life.... If you desire to marry you can raise a man to be the equal in grandeur and power to sovereigns. Above all, he will realise that you have taken pleasure in bringing him to prominence; he will be deeply grateful. It would not be needful to describe the man who may possess so much honour; for in pleasing you and in being your choice, he must of necessity be an estimable being. He will lack nothing; but where is he?
This language, so clear in its import to the reader, did not entirely satisfy Mademoiselle. The poor Princess was ever expecting an avowal or caresses which never came. Lauzun acted the disinterested friend, the person who was entirely out of the running, and he detailed all the reasons which made an unequal marriage distasteful to him. Far from seeking her, he held himself at a respectful distance when he met her.
”It was I,” says she, ”who sought him.” His reserve and his reticence added fuel to the flames, and this diverted him, but for the moment he did not dare to promise himself anything more than greater credit at Court.
In the meantime, the d.u.c.h.esse de Longueville[216] wished to establish the Count de Saint-Paul, the one of her sons who resembled ”infinitely”
La Rochefoucauld. In spite of the great difference in age--her son was only twenty--she thought of Mademoiselle, who remained by far the best match in the kingdom, and commenced overtures. These were eluded, but with a gentleness which astonished the social world. Mademoiselle had her reasons: ”For myself, who had my own desires buried in my heart, it did not at all vex me that the report should be spread that there was question of marrying me to M. de Longueville.[217] It occurred to me that this might in some measure accustom people to my future action.”
For once, the diplomacy of Mademoiselle did not prove a failure, and her calculations were found to be justified. Some days later, when the affair was being discussed before Lauzun, one of his friends, who had perceived that the Princess was listening with pleasure, asked him why he did not try his fortune.[218] Others joined in the suggestion and all a.s.sured him that nothing was impossible for a man so advanced in the good graces of the King. Lauzun expressed himself shocked at the idea of an alliance with Mademoiselle; but on returning to his lodging, he ruminated the entire night upon this conversation, and from that time the thought did not appear to him so chimerical. It was necessary, however, to delay the a.s.surance; the King led the Court into Flanders and gave the command of the escort to his favourite.
This was a political journey. Spain had been vanquished almost without resistance in the war of Devolution[219] (1667-1668). Louis XIV. deemed it useful to display French royalty in all its pomp to the populations lately united with his kingdom, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle (May 2, 1668), and all prepared to make a fine figure in a spectacle whose strangeness finds nothing a.n.a.logous in modern life.
In 1658, Loret the journalist had valued at about twelve hundred souls (the servitors were not included) the convoy formed by the Court at its departure for Lyons. This figure was certainly surpa.s.sed in 1670, when the royal family alone, more than complete, since it included Mme. de Montespan and Mlle. de La Valliere, took in their train a suite of several thousand persons, not counting the army of escorts.
This suite was composed of ladies and maids of honour, gentlemen, pages, domestics of all orders and of both s.e.xes, footmen and valets of valets.
The King even brought his nurse with him. On the other hand, the n.o.bility were better disciplined than in the times of Mazarin and Anne of Austria, and no one had dared to remain behind. The departure was from Saint-Germain, April 28. Pellison wrote the next day to his friend Mlle. de Scudery: ”It is impossible to tell you how numerous the Court is; it is much larger than at Saint-Germain or Paris. Every one has followed.”[220]
The quant.i.ty of luggage gave to this crowd the appearance of a wandering nomadic tribe. All the personages of high rank took with them complete sets of furniture. Louis XIV. had on this journey ”a chamber of crimson damask,” for ordinary use, and another ”very magnificent” where greater accommodation would be had. The bed of the last was ”of green velvet embroidered with gold, immensely large, which could of itself fill several small rooms.” There were also entire suites of needful furniture when the King lodged at his ease, and the same for the Queen, beautiful Gobelin tapestries and a quant.i.ty of silver plaques,[221] chandeliers of silver, and other pieces.
The commissary department carried a monster cooking apparatus and necessary utensils to supply, morning and evening, several large tables with food served on plated dishes. When all was unpacked, their Majesties were ”almost as at the Tuileries.”
Monsieur could not do without pretty things nor infinite variation of toilet; he was much enc.u.mbered on a journey. Mademoiselle, demanding little, had nevertheless her rank to maintain, and her ”campaign chamber” was imposing. On one journey, she was obliged to lodge ten days in a peasant's hut where the ceilings were so low that it was necessary to increase the height of the room by digging out the ground which formed the floor, in order to erect the canopy of her bed. Those of the courtiers obliged, from their rank as chiefs of _Commandments_, to keep open table led with them a staff of domestics and enough material for an itinerant inn. Others wished to make themselves conspicuous by the fineness of their equipage. That of Lauzun had been much admired at his departure from Paris. ”He pa.s.sed through the St. Honore,” wrote Mademoiselle, who had come across him by chance; ”he was very splendid and magnificent.” The most modest carried at least a camp-bed, under pain of sleeping upon mother earth during the entire trip.
The train of chariots, carts, and horses, or mules with pack-saddles, which rolled along the route to Flanders in 1670, can be pictured; also the difficulty of uniting luggage and owner when the resting-places were scattered over an entire village or group of villages; the accidents of all sorts which happened to the caravan, on roads almost always in a frightful condition, and in traversing rivers often without bridges; the indifference of some, the impatience of others, and the universal disorder; the anguish of losing one's cooks if one were a Marie-Therese, the desolation of not finding the rouge and powder if one were Monsieur or some pretty woman! Surely those who preserved their equanimity through such trials and under excessive fatigue deserve praise.
Louis XIV. was a good traveller, arranged everything for himself, and expected others to do as much. He detested groans, timid women, and those to whom a bed was important. The Queen Marie-Therese began to grumble before actually stepping into her coach, and the fact that she was in a placid frame of mind during a trip was spread far and wide as a piece of good news. The frugal suppers and the nights pa.s.sed in a waggon, while awaiting the carriage which had missed the way, appeared to her frightful calamities. The bad condition of the roads made her weep, and she uttered loud cries in traversing fords. She was once found in tears, stopping the horses in the open plain and refusing to go on or to turn back. An intelligent interest in new surroundings did not give her compensation for her woes, for she possessed no curiosity. The conferences with which the King entertained the ladies along the route, upon military tactics and fortifications, mortally bored and wearied the poor Queen, and she did not know how to conceal her feelings.
To tell the truth, among all the women who pressed behind the King upon the ramparts of the cities or on the fortifications of old battle-fields, appearing to absorb his words and explanations, Mademoiselle was the only one who really listened with pleasure. Since the exploits during the Fronde, the Princess had always considered herself as belonging to the profession of arms.
Monsieur had one great resource in travelling. When he joined the King, he brought with him some choice bits of gossip which entertained the entire coach. In the evening, when the beds were being anxiously awaited, he started games, or ordered the King's violins and gave a dance. If no other place offered, the company would use a barn for the impromptu ball. Monsieur, however, was much annoyed at any mishaps which might interfere with his toilet, and could never take accidents of this kind lightly.
The journey of 1670 was made more difficult by torrents of rain, and the one who was generally drenched was the Commander-in-chief of the troops, who was obliged to stand with uncovered head to receive the King's orders. Monsieur looked with a sort of indignation upon the piteous countenance of Lauzun, his hair uncurled and dripping, and once said: ”Nothing would induce me to show myself in such a condition. He does not look at all well with his wet hair; I have never seen a man so hideous.”[222]
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