Calvert of Strathore Part 12

So long and so frequently interrupted by applause was Necker's report that it was after four o'clock when the King rose to dismiss the a.s.sembly. As he descended the steps the Queen came forward to his side, and, for the first time, a faint "Vive la Reine!" was heard. At the sound a quick blush of pleasure showed in her pallid cheeks and she courtesied low to the throng with such divine grace that the acclamations redoubled. To this the Queen courtesied yet lower, and, amid a very thunder of applause, the royal party left the hall, followed by the deputies and the struggling throng of visitors.

Fatigued by the long seance, the excitement, and the tediousness of Monsieur Necker's report, Mr. Jefferson hurried Mr. Calvert--Mr. Morris had been carried off by Madame de Flahaut, to the great discomfiture of Monsieur de Curt--into his coach and drove directly to Madame de Tesse's, where they found apartments ready for them for the night and where they could get some repose before dressing for dinner and the King's levee, at which Mr. Jefferson intended to present both Mr. Morris and Mr. Calvert to their Majesties.

CHAPTER XI

MR. CALVERT ATTENDS THE KING'S LEVEE

It had been the intention of the court to give but one levee--that to the deputies on the Sat.u.r.day preceding the opening of the States-General, but so widespread and so profound had been the dissatisfaction among the tiers at the treatment they had received on that occasion at the hands of Monsieur de Breze, that the King had hastily decided to hold another levee on the evening of the 5th of May, to which all the deputies were again invited and at which much of the formal and displeasing ceremony of the first reception was to be banished. At the first levee His Majesty had remained in state in the Salle d'Hercule, to which the deputies were admitted according to their rank, the n.o.blesse and higher clergy pa.s.sing in through the great state apartments, the tiers being introduced one after the other by a side entrance. The King now rightly determined to receive all in the great Salle des Glaces with as little formality as possible. But with that unhappy fatality which seemed to attend his every action, this resolution, which would have been productive of such good results at first, now seemed but a tardy and inefficient apology for courtly hauteur.

So fatigued was Madame de Tesse and her guests by the day's proceedings, that it was late when they set off from the rue Dauphine for the palace. Mr. Morris had the honor of driving alone with Madame de Tesse (Lafayette and d'Azay declining to attend this levee, having paid their respects to the King on Sat.u.r.day), while Mr. Jefferson, whose coach had remained at Versailles, begged the pleasure of Madame de St.

Andre's company for himself and Mr. Calvert. She came down the marble steps in her laces and gaze d'or, her dark hair unpowdered and unadorned save for a white rose, half-opened, held in the coil by a diamond buckle, and she looked so lovely and so much the grand princess that Mr.

Jefferson could not forbear complimenting her as he handed her into the coach. As for Mr. Calvert, he stood by in silence, quite dazzled by her beauty. She took Mr. Jefferson's compliments and Calvert's silent admiration complacently and as though they were no more than her just due, and talked gayly and graciously enough with the minister, though she had scarce a word for the younger man, whom she treated in a fashion even more than usually imperious, and to which he submitted with his unvarying composure and good-nature.

In the Place d'Armes the crush of coaches was so great that the American Minister's carriage could move but slowly from that point into the Cour Royale, and 'twas with much difficulty that Mr. Jefferson and Calvert, finally alighting, forced a pa.s.sage through the crowd for Madame de St.

Andre. At the foot of the great Escalier des Amba.s.sadeurs they found Madame de Tesse and Mr. Morris, who had just arrived. Mounting together, they pa.s.sed through the state apartments of the King, upon the ceilings and panellings of which Mr. Calvert noted the ever recurring sun-disk, emblem of the Roi Soleil whose sun had set so ingloriously long before; through the Salle de la Guerre, from whose dome that same Sun-King, vanquished so easily by Death, hurled thunder-bolts of wrath before which Spain and Holland cowered in fear; until they at length came into the Galerie des Glaces, where their Majesties were to receive.

Not even the splendor of the Salle des Menus could rival for an instant the beauty of the vast hall, brilliantly lighted by great golden l.u.s.tres set in double row up and down its length, in which Mr. Calvert now found himself. These lights burned themselves out in endless reflections in the seventeen great mirrors set between columns on one side of the hall.

Opposite each of these mirrors was a window of equal proportions giving upon the magnificent gardens and terraces. The vaulted ceiling of this great gallery was dedicated, in a series of paintings by Lebrun, to the glorification of Louis XIV, from the moment when, on the death of Mazarin, in 1661, he took up the reins of government ('twas the theme of the great central fresco, _Le Roi gouverne par lui-meme_, wherein, according to the fashion of the day, the very Olympian deities were subject to the princes of France, and Mercury announced this kingly resolve to the other powers of Europe) to the peace of Nymwegen, which closed that unjust and inglorious war with Holland. Lebrun, being a courtier as well as an artist, had made these military operations under Turenne and Conde resemble prodigious success, and from The Pa.s.sage of the Rhine to The Capture of Ghent, Louis was always the conqueror over the young Stadtholder, William of Orange.

These and many other details Mr. Calvert had time to note as he made a tour of the princely apartment in the train of Madame de St. Andre and Madame de Tesse. Their progress was necessarily slow, as the gallery was thronged with the deputies of the n.o.blesse, the higher clergy, and the invited guests. But the members of the tiers, whose presence had been especially desired by His Majesty, were conspicuous by their absence.

Here and there one saw a commoner in black coat and simple white tie, but he seemed to be separated from the rest of the splendid company by some invisible barrier, constrained, uneasy. Indeed, there was over the whole scene that same feeling of constraint, a sense of danger, and an air of apathy, too, that killed all gayety.

"If this is a fair sample, court b.a.l.l.s must be but dreary affairs," said Mr. Morris to Calvert, in a low tone, as they moved slowly about. And yet, in spite of this indefinite but sensible pall over everything, the company was both numerous and brilliant. The ladies of the Queen's household and many others of the highest n.o.bility were present, dazzling in jewels, powder, feathers, and richest court dresses. As for the gentlemen, they were as resplendent as the women in their satins and glittering orders and silver dress swords. Mr. Morris alone of all the company was without the dress sword, this concession having been granted him on account of his lameness and through the application of Mr.

Jefferson.

"It is a grim jest to give a man an extra arm when he needs a leg, Mr.

Jefferson. Can't you see to it that I am spared being made a monstrosity of?" Mr. Morris had said, whimsically. "I can hear Segur or Beaufort now making some d.a.m.ned joke about the unequal distribution of my members,"

and Mr. Jefferson had made a formal request to the master of ceremonies to allow Mr. Morris to be presented to His Majesty without a sword. With that exception, however, he was in full court costume and stumped his way about the Galerie des Glaces with his accustomed savoir faire, attracting almost as much attention and interest as Mr. Jefferson. That gentleman, in his gray cloth, with some fine Mechlin lace at throat and wrists, and wearing only his order of the Cincinnati, overtopped all the other amba.s.sadors in stately bearing, and looked more n.o.ble than did most of the marquises and counts and dukes in their brocades and powdered perukes and glittering decorations--or, at least, so thought Calvert, who was himself very good to look at in his white broadcloth and flowered satin waistcoat.

The slow progress of the party around the room was not entirely to Mr.

Calvert's liking, for at each step Madame de St. Andre was forced to stop and speak to some eager courtier who presented himself, and, by the time they were half-way through the tour and opposite the Oeil de Beef, such a retinue was following the beauty that he found himself quite in the rear and completely separated from her.

"I feel like the remnant of a beleaguered army cut off from the base of supplies," said Mr. Morris, smiling at the young man. He and Mr.

Jefferson had dropped behind, having given way to younger and more pressing claimants for Madame de St. Andre's favor. "Shall we make a masterly retreat while there is time?"

While he was yet speaking a sudden silence fell upon the company, and Monsieur de Breze, throwing open the doors leading into the Gallery of Mirrors from Louis's council chamber, announced the King and Queen.

Their Majesties entered immediately, attended at a respectful distance by a small retinue of gentlemen, among whom Calvert recognized the Duc de Broglie, Monsieur de la Luzerne, and Monsieur de Montmorin. At this near sight of the King--for he found himself directly opposite the door by which their Majesties entered--Mr. Calvert felt a shock of surprise.

Surrounded by all the pomp and circ.u.mstance of a most imposing ceremonial and seen across the vast Salle des Menus, Louis XVI. had appeared to the young American kingly enough. But this large, awkward, good-natured-looking man who now made his way quietly and with a shambling gait into the brilliant room, crowded with the most splendid courtiers of Europe, had no trace of majesty about him, unless it was a certain look of benignity and kindliness that shone in the light-blue eyes. His dress of unexpected simplicity and the unaffected style of his whole deportment were unlocked for by Calvert. Indeed, but for the splendid decorations he wore and the humility of his courtiers, the young gentleman would have found it hard to believe himself in such exalted company, and thought privately that General Washington or Mr.

Jefferson or many another great American whom he had known had a more commanding presence and a more n.o.ble countenance than this descendant of kings.

But if Louis XVI was awkward and unprepossessing he had the kindest manners in the world, and when Mr. Jefferson presented Mr. Calvert to His Majesty as "son jeune et bien-aime secretaire, qui avait servi dans la guerre de l'independence sous le drapeau de la France, commande par Monsieur de Lafayette, pour qu'il avait un respect le plus profond et une amitie la plus vive," the young man was quite overcome by the graciousness of his reception and retained for the rest of his life a very lively impression of the King's kind treatment of him. He never had speech with that unhappy, but well-intentioned, ruler but once afterward, and very possibly 'twas as much the memory of the courtesy shown him as the wish to see justice done and royalty in distress succored that made him, on the occasion of his second interview, offer himself so ardently in the dangerous service of the King.

Perhaps it was the presence at his side of his beautiful consort that accentuated all of Louis's awkwardness. As Mr. Calvert bowed low before the Queen, Marie Antoinette, he thought to himself that surely there was no other princess in all Europe to compare with her, and but one beauty.

Certain it was that she bore herself with a pride of race, a majesty, a divine grace that were peerless. It must have been some such queen as this who first inspired the artists with the idea of representing the princes of this earth as Olympic deities, for a.s.suredly no G.o.ddess was ever more beautiful. Though care and grief and humiliation had already touched her, though there were fine lines around the proudly curving lips and an anxious shadow in the large eyes, her complexion was still transcendently brilliant, her figure still youthful and marvellously graceful, and there was that in her carriage and glance that attracted all eyes. She was dressed in a silver gauze embroidered in laurier roses so cunningly wrought that they looked as if fresh plucked and scattered over the lacy fabric. Her hair, which was worn simply--she had set the fashion for less extravagance in the style of head-dress--was piled up in lightly powdered coils, ornamented only with a feather and a star of brilliants.

"Ainsi, Monsieur, vous connaissez notre cher de Lafayette" (she hated and feared him) "et tout jeune que vous etes vous avez deja vu la guerre--la mort, la victorie, et la deroute!" She spoke with a certain sadness, and Calvert, bowing low again, and speaking only indifferent French in his agitation, told her that under Lafayette it had been "la mort et la victoire," but never defeat.

She glanced around the a.s.semblage. "Monsieur de Lafayette is not come to-night," she said, coldly, to the young man, and then, with a sudden accession of interest, she went on: "We heard much of that America of yours from him when he returned from your war" ('twas she herself who had obtained his forgiveness from the King and a command for him in the Roi Dragons). "I think he loves it and your General Washington better than he does his own King and country," she said, smiling a little bitterly. "Is it, then, so beautiful a country?"

"Tis a very beautiful and a very grateful country, Your Majesty,"

replied Calvert. "America desires nothing so much as to do some service for Your Majesty in return for all the benefits and a.s.sistance France has rendered her."

"We are glad to know that she is grateful. Ingrat.i.tude is the last of vices," said the Queen, quietly, looking at the young man with a sombre light in her beautiful eyes. "But, indeed, we fear France hath given her something she can never repay," and she pa.s.sed on with the King.

Together they walked the length of the salon between the ranks of courtiers, after which they mingled freely and without formality with their guests. Though it was easy to see that the Queen was suffering, so charming and easy were her manners, so brilliant her very presence, that a new animation and gayety was diffused throughout the entire a.s.semblage. Mr. Morris, whom she had also treated with the utmost graciousness, was enchanted with her.

"I think Venus herself was not more beautiful," he said, enthusiastically, to Calvert when Her Majesty had pa.s.sed on. "'Tis no wonder the wits have dubbed the King Vulcan. And this is the paragon of beauty and grace whom her ungallant subjects chose to insult this morning! Have they no hearts, no senses to be charmed with her loveliness, her majesty, her sorrows? I think you and I, Ned, ought to be loyal servants of both the King and Queen, for surely royalty could not have been more courteous in its treatment of two unt.i.tled and unimportant gentlemen."

"Certainly their Majesties were most amiable," said Mr. Jefferson, dryly, "and your reception was as unlike the ungracious notice which King George took of Mr. Adams and myself in '86 at Buckingham Palace as possible. But, come, I want to show you a view of the gardens," he went on, pushing back the heavy drapery and drawing the two gentlemen into the embrasure of one of the great windows, from which a perfect view of the extensive park, the bosquets, the artificial lakes and tapis vert, the fountains and statues, was to be had. A thousand lanterns lighted up the scene, though they shone with but a yellow, ineffectual radiance in the moonlight, which rested in splendor on the gra.s.s and water, turning to milky whiteness the foam in the basins of the fountains and throwing long shadows on the close-clipped lawns and marble walks.

The three gentlemen gazed for some minutes in silence at the enchanting scene before them.

"'Tis a fitting-setting for the palace of a king," said Mr. Morris, at length.

"Yes--" returned Mr. Jefferson, slowly, "if 'tis ever fitting that a king should arrogate to his sole use the wealth, the toil, the bounty of an empire. I confess I never look at this stately palace, at these magnificent gardens, but I shudder to think of the hundred millions of francs this impoverished nation has been goaded into giving; of the thousands of lives lost in the building of these aqueducts; of the countless years and countless energy spent in devising and carrying out these schemes for royal aggrandizement and pleasure. We come here and gape and wonder at it all, and little think at what stupendous cost our senses are so gratified.

"'The man of wealth and pride Takes up a s.p.a.ce that many poor supplied-- s.p.a.ce for his lake, his park's extended bounds, s.p.a.ce for his horses, equipage, and hounds; The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth Has robb'd the neighboring fields of half their growth; His seat, where solitary sports are seen, Indignant spurns the cottage from the green; Around the world each needful product flies, For all the luxuries the world supplies: While thus the land adorn'd for pleasure--all In barren splendor feebly waits the fall.'"

As Mr. Jefferson finished quoting the lines, the sound of voices and exclamations of astonishment came to the gentlemen from the other side of the curtain. Looking into the salon they saw Monsieur de St. Aulaire surrounded by a little group of ladies and gentlemen. He was speaking quite audibly, so that his words reached the astonished group in the embrasure of the window.

"'Tis the latest from the Club des Enrages--the King abdicates to-morrow!" He pa.s.sed on amid a chorus of dismayed e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns.

"What is this?" said Mr. Jefferson, in alarm. "'Tis impossible that it should be true. Yonder I see Montmorin. I will ask him the meaning of this," and he pa.s.sed hurriedly into the salon, leaving Mr. Morris and Calvert alone.

"'Tis some infernal deviltry of St. Aulaire's, I'll be bound," said Mr.

Morris. "I think I will go, too, Ned," he said, after a minute's silence, "and see if I can't find Madame de Flahaut. She will know what this wild report amounts to. Oh, you need not stand there smiling at me with those serious eyes of yours, my young Sir Galahad! She's a very pretty and a very interesting woman, if a good deal of the intrigante, and as for me, I know excellently well how to take care of myself. I wonder if you do!" and with that he pa.s.sed out, laughing and drawing the velvet curtains of the window together behind him.

Mr. Calvert, thus left alone, and being shut off from the great gallery by the drapery of the window, folded his arms, and, leaning against the open cas.e.m.e.nt, gazed out at the beautiful scene before him. And as he looked up in the heavens at the moon shining with such effulgence on this scene of splendor, the thought came to him that she was shining on other and far different scenes, too--on the tides of the ocean and on the cold snows of the mountain-peaks; on squalor and wretchedness and agitation in the great city so near; and especially did he think of one tranquil and beloved spot across the sea, on which he had seen this self-same moon shining with as serene a radiance many, many times. The sounds of laughter and animated talk, the click of silver swords, the strains of music from the musicians in the gallery above the OEil de Beef came faintly to him. Suddenly he was aware that the curtains had been lifted, and turning around, he saw Madame de St. Andre standing in the light, one hand pulling back the velvet hangings, and, behind her, Monsieur de Beaufort and St. Aulaire.

"I am come to congratulate you, Monsieur," she said, smiling, and coming into the embrasure of the window, followed by the two gentlemen--it was so deep that the four could stand at ease in it, even when the curtains had been dropped. "I am come to congratulate you! Your courtesy to the King was perfection itself. I was over against the OEil de Beef and could see very well what pa.s.sed. I am sure had His Majesty been General Washington himself you could not have excelled it. You must know, gentlemen," she said, laughing maliciously and turning to St. Aulaire and Beaufort, "you must know that when I expressed my great desire to see how an American would salute a king, Monsieur told me that I need have no fear, as he had paid his respects to General Washington!"

"Monsieur does not mean to compare General Washington with His Majesty Louis XVI, does he?" drawled St. Aulaire, insolently.

"No, Monsieur--no," says Calvert, turning to the n.o.bleman, who was leaning negligently against the ledge of the window. "There can be no comparison. Who, indeed, can be compared with him?" he breaks out suddenly. "There is none like him. None so wise or courageous or truly royal. How can the kings of this world, born in the purple, who, through no act, nor powers, nor fitness of their own, reign over their people; how can they be compared to one who, by the greatness of his talents, the soundness of his judgment, the firmness of his will, the tenderness of his heart, the overtopping majesty of his whole nature, hath raised himself so gloriously above his fellows? To one, the kingly estate is but a gift blindly bestowed; to the other, 'tis the divine right of excelling merit. The one is ruler by sufferance; the other, by acclamation. And do you think, Madame," he goes on, turning to Adrienne, "that that ruler who has been elevated to his greatness by the choice of a people would betray that confidence, abandon that trust, as Monsieur de St. Aulaire has just announced that the King of France is about to do? Surely General Washington would not. Ah, Madame! Could you but see him; but see the n.o.ble calm of his countenance, the commanding eye, the consummate majesty of his presence, you would say with me, 'there is no king like him!'"

As Calvert finished his impa.s.sioned eulogy of his great commander, there was a slight stir near him and, looking around, he beheld the King draw back the heavy curtains and, standing in the flood of light, look quietly into the embrasure of the window. Behind him was Mr. Jefferson, pale and concerned-looking, but with a glow of ill-concealed pride on his countenance at the patriotic words he had just heard uttered. On either side of His Majesty stood Monsieur le Due de Broglie and Monsieur de Montmorin, white with anger and consternation. As the King stepped forward, Madame de St. Andre sank almost to the ground in a deep courtesy, while Beaufort and St. Aulaire dropped on their knees before him. Calvert alone retained his composure and stood before the King, pale, with folded arms.

For an instant there was a profound silence, and then Louis, drawing himself up to his full height and looking around upon the stricken company, turned to Calvert with so much benignity in his gaze and mien that the young American was startled and awed. He never forgot that unexpected graciousness nor ceased to feel grateful for it.

"Monsieur," said the King, and there was a thrill of deep feeling in his voice, "believe me, whatever failings crowned monarchs may have, they at least know how to value such deep devotion as you give your uncrowned ruler. Tis as you say--this kingly estate is thrust upon us; it is not of our seeking, perhaps it would not be of our choosing; how much more grateful to us, then, is the loyalty and the love of those over whom we find ourselves involuntarily placed and who must of their own free wills give us their faith and service or else withhold them entirely!

Gentlemen, proud as I am of my kingdom and my subjects, I still find it in my heart to envy General Washington! And yet, have I not as loyal subjects?" He turned and looked at the company about him. At his glance a hundred cries of "Vive le roi!" were heard, and there was a sharp ring of silver swords as they leaped from their sheaths and were held aloft.

The King stood smiling and triumphant. Seeing him thus, with his courtiers about him, who could dream that the 6th of October was but a few months off!

"Ah, gentlemen, I am no 'king by trade,' as our cousin of Austria hath called himself. At this moment I feel that I am indeed your King." The tumult of applause which followed these words was suddenly stilled as the King lifted his hand and pointed to St. Aulaire.

"But, Monsieur," says Louis, a sombre expression clouding the triumph in his face as he looked hard at St. Aulaire, "what is the meaning of this speech of yours to which Monsieur Calvert makes reference?"