Louis XIV and La Grande Mademoiselle Part 14

Strangers were almost always struck by the solicitude of his government for artisans and commercial people.

[Ill.u.s.tration: =JEAN BAPTISTE COLBERT= After the painting by Champaign]

Without doubt, sentimental reasons did not count for much; when Colbert forbade the collectors of taxes to take the cattle from the labourers, he was simply applying in the name of the King the principles of a good business man who considers his debtor. But the benefit was no less great. From whatever point of view one looked, France gave to other nations the impression of a progressive people. It was recognised that she had taken the position of head of Europe. The country at large felt this. It very justly considered this upward flight due to the personal efforts of its young King, and was grateful for his enormous labour.

Louis well understood this. It was a "party cry" to insist on all occasions upon the trouble which he took in his "trade of King" and the great fatigues which he endured for the public good. The _Gazette_, as an official journal, never failed to emphasise this. Every event was coloured to this end.

Apropos of a trip of eight days, the journal wrote[142]: "This Prince, as indefatigable as Hercules in his labours," etc. It justified the royal ballets, which were most costly, by the excuse of the excessive brain work of the chief of state.

"On the eighth [January, 1663], the King, wearied with the pains with which His Majesty works so indefatigably for the welfare of his subjects, enjoyed in the palace of the Cardinal the diversion of a ballet of seven acts, called the _Ballet des Arts_."

Louis XIV. danced in the _Ballet des Arts_ three times; Mlles. de Valliere, de Sevigne, and de Mortemart had a lively success in it; the latter was on the eve of becoming Mme. de Montespan.[143] The accounts of the representations of the new ballet alternate in the _Gazette_ with the funeral ceremonies in honour of a daughter of the King and Queen, who died at six weeks of age on December 30th.

Louis XIV. had wept over his loss with that superficial sensibility in which he resembles, strange as it seems, the philosophers of the seventeenth century. He could have given points to Diderot in regard to the facility of pouring out torrents of tears, and he often astonished the Court by his emotion. He deceived the Queen from morning till evening, and he cried to see her weep when he quitted her. He brought forth crocodile tears for the death of his father-in-law.[144] In a turn of the hand, again like Diderot, he forgot his existence, and lost on his account neither a step in the dance nor a _galant rendezvous_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ="PLEASURES OF THE ISLAND OF ENCHANTMENT." SCENE ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE PLAY, BEFORE THE KING AT VERSAILLES= From the engraving by Israel Silvestre ]

To the ballet succeeded other "relaxations," and it is curious to see the _Gazette_ taking the pains to explain that the King had well earned a simple trip for pleasure (April 7, 1663): "This week the King, in order to gain some relief from the continual application for the establishing the felicity of his subjects, has enjoyed the diversion of a little journey to Saint-Germain-en-Laye and to Versailles."

The mundane chronicles[145] falling into line, Louis XIV. saw his "glory" as a great worker ascending into the clouds, together with his "glory" as a man of war, and in one word as "universal hero." He could not even exercise his musketeers without the _Gazette's_ issuing an extra leaf upon the "admiration of all spectators."[146]

All France struck the same note. When he went to take possession of Dunkerque,[147] he pa.s.sed before a plaster Olympus, fabricated for the occasion. "He witnessed Neptune, who respectfully lowered his trident; the spirits of the Earth and Sea prostrated before this mighty Prince"--that is to say, himself, and he permitted his official journal to regale the country with these follies; it was clear in his eyes that Neptune and his Court only did their duty. Every one was prepared to deify him, and he received this homage with pleasure. This atmosphere of worship was very harmful to a man born with much good sense and with many superior parts. The brilliancy of his Court, for which he was considered responsible, contributed also to the general dazzle.

The surging crowd of twenty years later did not yet exist, when the Chateau of Versailles was finished, and Louis XIV. held his n.o.bility lodged under his own hand,[148] only moving from his side to make a campaign. The young Court was only numerous at intervals. It will shortly be seen how much it had increased in May, 1664. On the 27th of the following month, the Duc d'Enghien wrote from Fontainebleau: "There are almost no women here, and but few men. Never has the Court been so small."[149] On August 16th, also at Fontainebleau, the Queen Mother gave a ball; she had only sixteen ladies and as many men.[150] In October, the Court is at Paris, and the King gives a fete: "The ball was not fine," writes the grand Conde, "the greater number of the ladies being still in the country. In all Paris, only fourteen could be found."[151]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ="PLEASURES OF THE ISLAND OF ENCHANTMENT." SECOND DAY= From the engraving by Israel Silvestre]

During these first years, the n.o.bility was not yet encouraged to leave all, to come to live under the shadow of the throne. Those having provincial charges "obtained with difficulty leave of absence."[152]

Those lacking money to appear with fitting magnificence had little aid to expect from royalty; the shower of gold did not begin to fall until later, and Louis XIV. even pa.s.sed for being close-fisted.

"Besides his natural temperament," said Conde, "which is not given to lavishness, he is held back by M. Colbert, who is still less given to spending, particularly when he is not persuaded of the advantage of the affair for which money must be scattered."[153] It is well known that Colbert did not love waste; but he did know how to be liberal, even for expenses of luxury. No one was more convinced of the advantage of display for a sovereign, and he spared neither pains nor state pennies in making the grand festivals with which his master entertained the Court and city, unrivalled in Europe. And they were unparalleled, especially in the early years when tastes, like everything else, were young. Even the faults, by which perhaps the tastes were benefited, were youthful.

What is called impulse with the very young man takes the name of vice with the mature, and, whatever may be said, the one is much uglier than the other.

Louis XIV. was only twenty-three when he fell in love with Mlle. de La Valliere, and the festivities which he offered in her honour expressed this freshness. There were exquisite fairy scenes with the light decorations of flowers and leaves. The most famous, on account of Moliere's partial authorship, was called the _Plaisirs de l'Ile enchantee_, which was given at Versailles in May, 1664. It lasted three days, and was prolonged three days more, in spite of the great number of invitations and the difficulties occasioned by the immense crowd. The Court, says a "Relation,"[154] arrived the fifth of May, and the King entertained till the fourteenth six hundred guests, beside a quant.i.ty of people needed for the dance and comedy, and of artisans of all sorts from Paris, so numerous that it appeared a small army.

All now known of Versailles must be forgotten if we wish to picture it in 1664. Versailles was then a small village surrounded on three sides by fields and marshes.[155] The fourth side was occupied by a chateau which would have been s.p.a.cious for a private person, but which meant little for a court; a few dependencies; the beginning of a garden planted by Le Notre. That was all.

[Ill.u.s.tration: =GENERAL VIEW OF THE CHaTEAU OF VERSAILLES= From the engraving by Israel Silvestre, 1664]

Colbert considered Versailles already too large, as soon as Louis XIV.

decided to offer anything more to his guests than the four walls of their chambers. It will be remembered[156] that when Mademoiselle came to Saint-Germain to visit the Queen Mother she brought her own furniture and cook. Not even food was provided. This was the general rule.

Louis XIV. aspired to great hospitality, and commenced his reform at Versailles. "What is very peculiar in this house," wrote Colbert in 1663, "is that his Majesty has desired all apartments given to guests to be furnished. He also orders every one to be fed and provided with all necessities, even to the wood and candles in the chambers, which has never been the custom in royal establishments."

Colbert was evidently in a bad humour. There were, however, but few apartments to offer in the Chateau of Versailles; the 600 guests soon perceived this fact themselves.

The journal of Olivier d'Ormesson contains on the date of May 13 the following lines: "This same day, Mme. de Sevigne has related to us the diversions of Versailles, which have lasted from Wednesday till Sunday[157]: courses of bague, ballets, comedies, fireworks, and other beautiful inventions; but all the courtiers were enraged, for the King took no care of them, and Monsieurs de Guise and d'Elbeuf could hardly find a hole in which to shelter themselves." It is to be noted that the Duc de Guise must costume himself and all his lackeys.

The theme of the fete had been drawn from _Roland furieux_, and had been made to accord with up-to-date episodes, by a courtier expert in this kind of work, the Duc de Saint-Aignan. During three days and three nights, a volunteer company, composed of Louis XIV., Moliere, and the greatest n.o.bles of France, with the prettiest actresses of Paris, embellished the imaginations of Ariosto, in the presence of two queens and of an immense Court which seemed, says the _Gazette_, to have "exhausted the Indies"[158] in order to cover itself with precious stones. Halls of verdure, arches of flowers, and the vault of heaven formed the frame in which deployed the mythological processions, the games of chivalry, the ballets, the festivities for the "little army,"

and the first two representations of Moliere, of which one was to be the striking literary event of the century. In the evening, lamps hung upon the trees were lighted and the fete continued during the night. Gentle and tender music softened this apotheosis of love, of which the heroine--and this gave an added charm--remained hidden in the crowd; Louise de La Valliere was still neither "recognised" nor d.u.c.h.ess.

The first of the great days of the fete was open to all. The King of France and the flower of the n.o.bility as Paladins of Charlemagne, clothed and armed "a la grecque," according to the seventeenth century ideas of local colour, took part in a tournament before a sumptuous a.s.sembly who, at the appearance of the master, uttered "cries of joy and admiration."[159]

[Ill.u.s.tration: =THE FRONT OF THE LOUVRE IN COURSE OF ERECTION= From the engraving by S. le Clerc, 1677]

Louis XIV. sought these exhibitions. He shone in them and attributed to them an importance which in his _Memoires_ he explains to his son. He believed them very efficacious for binding together the affections of the people, above all those of high rank, and the sovereign. The populace have always loved spectacles, and for the n.o.bility, the more closely the King keeps it at Court, the more pains he must take to show that there is no aversion between sovereign and subject, but simply a question of reason and duty. Nothing serves better for this than carrousels and other diversions of the same nature: "This society of pleasure, which gives to the courtiers an honest familiarity with us, touches and charms them more than can be told."

The partakers in the "Tournament" of 1664 had in reality been very proud of the honour done them. They appeared covered with gold, silver, and jewelry, escorted by pages and gentlemen gallantly equipped. After them, defiled allegorical chariots, personages of fable, and strange animals, Moliere as the G.o.d Pan, one of his comrades mounted upon an elephant, another upon a camel.

At the supper in the open air, which terminated the day, the royal table was served by the _corps de ballet_, who, dancing and whirling bore in the different dishes. The cavaliers of the tournament, with their helmets covered with feathers of various colours, and wearing the mantles of the course, stood erect behind the guests. Two hundred masks, bearing torches of white wax illumined this admirable living picture, worthy of the great poet who inspired it.

The next day was occupied in giving to the two hundred guests a lesson in natural philosophy, no longer symbolical and veiled, but clear and direct; it was perfectly comprehended and the spectators were convinced.

The lesson was from Moliere, who had written his _Princesse d'Elide_[160] in the design well formed of "celebrating" and "justifying" the loves of the King and La Valliere. The _Recit de l'Aurore_ will be recalled which opens the piece.

Dans l'age ou l'on est amiable, Rien n'est si beau que d'aimer.

Soupirer librement pour un amant fidele, Et braver ceux qui voudraient vous blamer.

It will also be recollected that the five acts which follow are only the development, full of insistence, of that invitation to the ladies of the Court not to merit the "name of cruel." After serious affairs, innocent pleasures followed, the most applauded of which was a piece of fireworks which embraced "the heavens, the earth, and the waters."

[Ill.u.s.tration: =JEAN BAPTISTE POQUELIN MOLIeRE= After the painting by Noel Coypel]

Every one was already thinking of departure, when on Monday, May 12th, Moliere presented the first act of _Tartuffe_.

The connivance of the King appears well established. Father Rapin relates that the "sect of the _Devots_" had, since the time of Mazarin, rendered itself so insupportable by its indiscreet advice, that the King, "in order to ridicule them, had permitted Moliere to represent them on the stage." The _Devots_ had seen the blow coming, and did their best to avoid it; the annals of the _Compagnie du Saint Sacrement_ affirm this.[161] They report that there was "strong talk" in the seance of April 17th, in the attempt to accomplish the suppression of the wicked comedy _Tartuffe_.

Each member of the _Compagnie_ charged himself to speak to any friends who had credit at Court, "begging aid in preventing its representation."

The effort was vain. _Tartuffe_ was acted. The spectators divined without difficulty whom Moliere had in view, and the _Devots_ heard with emotion this openly significant expression of contempt of religious forms, in less than one week after the _Princesse d'Elide_ had thrown its weight upon the side of questionable morals.

From the point of view of a general principle, the two pieces naturally followed each other; they were two chapters of the same gospel. The King had the air of being about to pa.s.s to the enemy and of uniting himself with the Libertins. The Cabal made a desperate effort and _Tartuffe_ was forbidden; at the same time no one imagined that the battle was terminated.

An extraordinary agitation around the King might have been seen during the weeks which followed the fetes of Versailles. The Court at once departed for Fontainebleau; the two parties disputed the entire summer over the young monarch.

Louis himself had skirmished with both. The King felt at the same time a personal revolt against the constraints of the Church, and the need of a politic catholicity which would sustain the practices of religion for State reasons, because he could not do without their aid. These two fashions of thinking can easily be accommodated together, and the King was in train to learn how to do this. After a little delay, the conciliation between the two points of view was completed in his mind.

While waiting, he lived in the midst of floods of tears. The summer was a very troubled one.

Such events held the attention of Paris, but the poor Mademoiselle, forgotten in the Chateau d'Eu, fretted so much that at length her pride was conquered. "Upon the news of the pregnancy of the Queen," says the _Memoires_, "I decided to write, dreaming that perhaps the King wished to be besought," and she abased herself to do this. She at first expressed the hope that the child might be a son. "I exaggerated with good faith the desire which I had, and I showed the grief I felt in being forced to remain so long without the honour of seeing him [the King]. I said everything I could to oblige him to permit me to return."

She wrote at the same time to Colbert, who was considered the powerful man of the ministry:

EU, March 23, 1664.

MONSIEUR COLBERT:

In bearing testimony to the King of the joy which I have in the pregnancy of the Queen, I am daring to command his good graces, and the permission for an audience to ask them in person.