CHAPTER 8
What his Majesty King Louis XIV. was at the Age of Twenty-Two
It has been seen, by the account we have endeavored to give
of it, that the entree of King Louis XIV. into the city of
Blois had been noisy and brilliant his young majesty had
therefore appeared perfectly satisfied with it.
On arriving beneath the porch of the Castle of the States,
the king met, surrounded by his guards and gentlemen, with
S. A. R. the duke, Gaston of Orleans, whose physiognomy,
naturally rather majestic, had borrowed on this solemn
occasion a fresh luster and a fresh dignity. On her part,
Madame, dressed in her robes of ceremony, awaited, in the
interior balcony, the entrance of her nephew. All the
windows of the old castle, so deserted and dismal on
ordinary days, were resplendent with ladies and lights.
It was then to the sound of drums, trumpets, and vivats,
that the young king crossed the threshold of that castle in
which, seventy-two years before, Henry III. had called in
the aid of assassination and treachery to keep upon his head
and in his house a crown which was already slipping from his
brow, to fall into another family.
All eyes, after having admired the young king, so handsome
and so agreeable, sought for that other king of France, much
otherwise king than the former, and so old, so pale, so
bent, that people called him the Cardinal Mazarin.
Louis was at this time endowed with all the natural gifts
which make the perfect gentleman; his eye was brilliant,
mild, and of a clear azure blue. But the most skillful
physiognomists, those divers into the soul, on fixing their
looks upon it, if it had been possible for a subject to
sustain the glance of the king, -- the most skillful
physiognomists, we say, would never have been able to fathom
the depths of that abyss of mildness. It was with the eyes
of the king as with the immense depths of the azure heavens,
or with those more terrific, and almost as sublime, which
the Mediterranean reveals under the keels of its ships in a
clear summer day, a gigantic mirror in which heaven delights
to reflect sometimes its stars, sometimes its storms.
The king was short of stature -- he was scarcely five feet
two inches: but his youth made up for this defect, set off
likewise by great nobleness in all his movements, and by
considerable address in all bodily exercises.
Certes, he was already quite a king, and it was a great
thing to be a king in that period of traditional devotedness
and respect; but as, up to that time, he had been but seldom
and always poorly shown to the people, as they to whom he
was shown saw him by the side of his mother, a tall woman,
and monsieur le cardinal, a man of commanding presence, many
found him so little of a king as to say, --
"Why, the king is not so tall as monsieur le cardinal!"
Whatever may be thought of these physical observations,
which were principally made in the capital, the young king
was welcomed as a god by the inhabitants of Blois, and
almost like a king by his uncle and aunt, Monsieur and
Madame, the inhabitants of the castle.
It must, however, be allowed, that when he saw, in the hall
of reception, chairs of equal height placed for himself, his
mother, the cardinal, and his uncle and aunt, a disposition
artfully concealed by the semicircular form of the assembly,
Louis XIV. became red with anger, and looked around him to
ascertain by the countenances of those that were present, if
this humiliation had been prepared for him. But as he saw
nothing upon the impassible visage of the cardinal, nothing
on that of his mother, nothing on those of the assembly, he
resigned himself, and sat down, taking care to be seated
before anybody else.
The gentlemen and ladies were presented to their majesties
and monsieur le cardinal.
The king remarked that his mother and he scarcely knew the
names of any of the persons who were presented to them;
whilst the cardinal, on the contrary never failed, with an
admirable memory and presence of mind, to talk to every one
about his estates, his ancestors, or his children, some of
whom he named, which enchanted those worthy country
gentlemen, and confirmed them in the idea that he alone is
truly king who knows his subjects, from the same reason that
the sun has no rival, because the sun alone warms and
lightens.
The study of the young king, which had begun a long time
before, without anybody suspecting it, was continued then,
and he looked around him attentively to endeavor to make out
something in the physiognomies which had at first appeared
the most insignificant and trivial.
A collation was served. The king, without daring to call
upon the hospitality of his uncle, had waited for it
impatiently. This time, therefore, he had all the honors
due, if not to his rank, at least to his appetite
As to the cardinal, he contented himself with touching with
his withered lips a bouillon, served in a gold cup. The
all-powerful minister, who had taken her regency from the
queen, and his royalty from the king, had not been able to
take a good stomach from nature.
Anne of Austria, already suffering from the cancer which six
or eight years after caused her death, ate very little more
than the cardinal.
For Monsieur, already puffed up with the great event which
had taken place in his provincial life, he ate nothing
whatever.
Madame alone, like a true Lorrainer, kept pace with his
majesty; so that Louis XIV., who, without this partner,
might have eaten nearly alone, was at first much pleased
with his aunt, and afterwards with M. de Saint-Remy, her
maitre d'hotel, who had really distinguished himself.
The collation over, at a sign of approbation from M. de
Mazarin, the king arose, and, at the invitation of his aunt,
walked about among the ranks of the assembly.
The ladies then observed -- there are certain things for
which women are as good observers at Blois as at Paris --
the ladies then observed that Louis XIV. had a prompt and
bold look, which premised a distinguished appreciator of
beauty. The men, on their part, observed that the prince was
proud and haughty, that he loved to look down those who
fixed their eyes upon him too long or too earnestly, which
gave presage of a master.
Louis XIV. had accomplished about a third of his review when
his ears were struck with a word which his eminence
pronounced whilst conversing with Monsieur.
This word was the name of a woman.
Scarcely had Louis XIV. heard this word than he heard, or
rather listened to nothing else; and neglecting the arc of
the circle which awaited his visit, his object seemed to be
to come as quickly as possible to the extremity of the
curve.
Monsieur, like a good courtier, was inquiring of monsieur le
cardinal after the health of his nieces; he regretted, he
said, not having the pleasure of receiving them at the same
time with their uncle; they must certainly have grown in
stature, beauty and grace, as they had promised to do the
last time Monsieur had seen them.
What had first struck the king was a certain contrast in the
voices of the two interlocutors. The voice of Monsieur was
calm and natural while he spoke thus; while that of M. de
Mazarin jumped by a note and a half to reply above the
diapason of his usual voice. It might have been said that he
wished that voice to strike, at the end of the salon, any
ear that was too distant.
"Monseigneur," replied he, "Mesdemoiselles de Mazarin have
still to finish their education: they have duties to
fulfill, and a position to make. An abode in a young and
brilliant court would dissipate them a little."
Louis, at this last sentence, smiled sadly. The court was
young, it was true, but the avarice of the cardinal had
taken good care that it should not be brilliant.
"You have nevertheless no intention," replied Monsieur, "to
cloister them or make them bourgeoises?"
"Not at all," replied the cardinal, forcing his Italian
pronunciation in such a manner that, from soft and velvety
as it was, it became sharp and vibrating, "not at all: I
have a full and fixed intention to marry them, and that as
well as I shall be able."
"Parties will not be wanting, monsieur le cardinal," replied
Monsieur, with a bonhomie worthy of one tradesman
congratulating another.
"I hope not, monseigneur, and with reason, as God has been
pleased to give them grace, intelligence, and beauty."
During this conversation, Louis XIV., conducted by Madame,
accomplished, as we have described, the circle of
presentations.
"Mademoiselle Auricule," said the princess, presenting to
his majesty a fat, fair girl of two-and-twenty, who at a
village fete might have been taken for a peasant in Sunday
finery, -- "the daughter of my music-mistress."
The king smiled. Madame had never been able to extract four
correct notes from either viol or harpsichord.
"Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais," continued Madame, "a young
lady of rank, and my good attendant."
This time it was not the king that smiled; it was the young
lady presented, because, for the first time in her life, she
heard, given to her by Madame, who generally showed no
tendency to spoil her, such an honorable qualification.
Our old acquaintance Montalais, therefore, made his majesty
a profound courtesy, the more respectful from the necessity
she was under of concealing certain contractions of her
laughing lips, which the king might not have attributed to
their real cause.
It was just at this moment that the king caught the word
which startled him.
"And the name of the third?" asked Monsieur.
"Mary, monseigneur," replied the cardinal.
There was doubtless some magical influence in that word,
for, as we have said, the king started at hearing it, and
drew Madame towards the middle of the circle, as if he
wished to put some confidential question to her, but, in
reality, for the sake of getting nearer to the cardinal.
"Madame my aunt," said he, laughing, and in a suppressed
voice, "my geography-master did not teach me that Blois was
at such an immense distance from Paris."
"What do you mean, nephew?" asked Madame.
"Why, because it would appear that it requires several
years, as regards fashion, to travel the distance! -- Look
at those young ladies!"
"Well; I know them all."
"Some of them are pretty."
"Don't say that too loud, monsieur my nephew; you will drive
them wild."
"Stop a bit, stop a bit, dear aunt!" said the king, smiling;
"for the second part of my sentence will serve as a
corrective to the first. Well, my dear aunt, some of them
appear old and others ugly, thanks to their ten-year-old
fashions."
"But, sire, Blois is only five days, journey from Paris."
"Yes, that is it," said the king: "two years behind for each
day."
"Indeed! do you really think so? Well, that is strange! It
never struck me."
"Now, look, aunt," said Louis XIV., drawing still nearer to
Mazarin, under the pretext of gaining a better point of
view, "look at that simple white dress by the side of those
antiquated specimens of finery, and those pretentious
coiffures. She is probably one of my mother's maids of
honor, though I don't know her."
"Ah! ah! my dear nephew!" replied Madame, laughing, "permit
me to tell you that your divinatory science is at fault for
once. The young lady you honor with your praise is not a
Parisian, but a Blaisoise."
"Oh, aunt!" replied the king with a look of doubt.
"Come here, Louise," said Madame.
And the fair girl, already known to you under that name,
approached them, timid, blushing, and almost bent beneath
the royal glance.
"Mademoiselle Louise Francoise de la Baume le Blanc, the
daughter of the Marquise de la Valliere," said Madame,
ceremoniously.
The young girl bowed with so much grace, mingled with the
profound timidity inspired by the presence of the king, that
the latter lost, while looking at her, a few words of the
conversation of Monsieur and the cardinal.
"Daughter-in-law," continued Madame, "of M. de Saint-Remy,
my maitre d'hotel, who presided over the confection of that
excellent daube truffee which your majesty seemed so much to
appreciate."
No grace, no youth, no beauty, could stand out against such
a presentation. The king smiled. Whether the words of Madame
were a pleasantry, or uttered in all innocency, they proved
the pitiless immolation of everything that Louis had found
charming or poetic in the young girl. Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, for Madame and, by rebound, for the king, was, for
a moment, no more than the daughter of a man of a superior
talent over dindes truffees.
But princes are thus constituted. The gods, too, were just
like this in Olympus. Diana and Venus, no doubt, abused the
beautiful Alcmena and poor Io, when they condescended, for
distraction's sake, to speak, amidst nectar and ambrosia, of
mortal beauties, at the table of Jupiter.
Fortunately, Louise was so bent in her reverential salute,
that she did not catch either Madame's words or the king's
smile. In fact, if the poor child, who had so much good
taste as alone to have chosen to dress herself in white
amidst all her companions -- if that dove's heart, so easily
accessible to painful emotions, had been touched by the
cruel words of Madame, or the egotistical cold smile of the
king, it would have annihilated her.
And Montalais herself, the girl of ingenious ideas, would
not have attempted to recall her to life; for ridicule kills
beauty even.
But fortunately, as we have said, Louise, whose ears were
buzzing, and her eyes veiled by timidity, -- Louise saw
nothing and heard nothing; and the king, who had still his
attention directed to the conversation of the cardinal and
his uncle, hastened to return to them.
He came up just at the moment Mazarin terminated by saying:
"Mary, as well as her sisters, has just set off for Brouage.
I make them follow the opposite bank of the Loire to that
along which we have traveled; and if I calculate their
progress correctly, according to the orders I have given,
they will to-morrow be opposite Blois."
These words were pronounced with that tact -- that measure,
that distinctness of tone, of intention, and reach -- which
made del Signor Giulio Mazarini the first comedian in the
world.
It resulted that they went straight to the heart of Louis
XIV., and the cardinal, on turning round at the simple noise
of the approaching footsteps of his majesty, saw the
immediate effect of them upon the countenance of his pupil,
an effect betrayed to the keen eyes of his eminence by a
slight increase of color. But what was the ventilation of
such a secret to him whose craft had for twenty years
deceived all the diplomatists of Europe?
From the moment the young king heard these last words, he
appeared as if he had received a poisoned arrow in his
heart. He could not remain quiet in a place, but cast around
an uncertain, dead, and aimless look over the assembly. He
with his eyes interrogated his mother more than twenty
times: but she, given up to the pleasure of conversing with
her sister-in-law, and likewise constrained by the glance of
Mazarin, did not appear to comprehend any of the
supplications conveyed by the looks of her son.
From this moment, music, lights, flowers, beauties, all
became odious and insipid to Louis XIV. After he had a
hundred times bitten his lips, stretched his legs and his
arms like a well-brought-up child who, without daring to
gape, exhausts all the modes of evincing his weariness --
after having uselessly again implored his mother and the
minister, he turned a despairing look towards the door, that
is to say, towards liberty.
At this door, in the embrasure of which he was leaning, he
saw, standing out strongly, a figure with a brown and lofty
countenance, an aquiline nose, a stern but brilliant eye,
gray and long hair, a black mustache, the true type of
military beauty, whose gorget, more sparkling than a mirror,
broke all the reflected lights which concentrated upon it,
and sent them back as lightning. This officer wore his gray
hat with its long red plumes upon his head, a proof that he
was called there by his duty, and not by his pleasure. If he
had been brought thither by his pleasure -- if he had been a
courtier instead of a soldier, as pleasure must always be
paid for at the same price -- he would have held his hat in
his hand.
That which proved still better that this officer was upon
duty, and was accomplishing a task to which he was
accustomed, was, that he watched, with folded arms,
remarkable indifference, and supreme apathy, the joys and
ennuis of this fete. Above all, he appeared, like a
philosopher, and all old soldiers are philosophers, -- he
appeared above all to comprehend the ennuis infinitely
better than the joys; but in the one he took his part,
knowing very well how to do without the other.
Now, he was leaning, as we have said, against the carved
door-frame when the melancholy, weary eyes of the king, by
chance, met his.
It was not the first time, as it appeared, that the eyes of
the officer had met those eyes, and he was perfectly
acquainted with the expression of them; for, as soon as he
had cast his own look upon the countenance of Louis XIV.,
and had read by it what was passing in his heart -- that is
to say, all the ennui that oppressed him -- all the timid
desire to go out which agitated him, -- he perceived he must
render the king a service without his commanding it, --
almost in spite of himself. Boldly, therefore, as if he had
given the word of command to cavalry in battle, "On the
king's service!" cried he, in a clear, sonorous voice.
At these words, which produced the effect of a peal of
thunder, prevailing over the orchestra, the singing and the
buzz of the promenaders, the cardinal and the queen-mother
looked at each other with surprise.
Louis XIV., pale, but resolved, supported as he was by that
intuition of his own thought which he had found in the mind
of the officer of musketeers, and which he had just
manifested by the order given, arose from his chair, and
took a step towards the door.
"Are you going, my son?" said the queen, whilst Mazarin
satisfied himself with interrogating by a look which might
have appeared mild if it had not been so piercing.
"Yes, madame," replied the king; "I am fatigued, and,
besides, wish to write this evening."
A smile stole over the lips of the minister, who appeared,
by a bend of the head, to give the king permission.
Monsieur and Madame hastened to give orders to the officers
who presented themselves.
The king bowed, crossed the hall, and gained the door, where
a hedge of twenty musketeers awaited him. At the extremity
of this hedge stood the officer, impassible, with his drawn
sword in his hand. The king passed, and all the crowd stood
on tip-toe, to have one more look at him.
Ten musketeers, opening the crowd of the ante-chambers and
the steps, made way for his majesty. The other ten
surrounded the king and Monsieur, who had insisted upon
accompanying his majesty. The domestics walked behind. This
little cortege escorted the king to the chamber destined for
him. The apartment was the same that had been occupied by
Henry III. during his sojourn in the States.
Monsieur had given his orders. The musketeers, led by their
officer, took possession of the little passage by which one
wing of the castle communicates with the other. This passage
was commenced by a small square ante-chamber, dark even in
the finest days. Monsieur stopped Louis XIV.
"You are passing now, sire," said he, "the very spot where
the Duc de Guise received the first stab of the poniard."
The king was ignorant of all historical matters; he had
heard of the fact, but he knew nothing of the localities or
the details.
"Ah!" said he with a shudder.
And he stopped. The rest, both behind and before him,
stopped likewise.
"The duc, sire," continued Gaston, "was nearly where I
stand: he was walking in the same direction as your majesty;
M. de Lorgnes was exactly where your lieutenant of
musketeers is; M. de Saint-Maline and his majesty's
ordinaries were behind him and around him. It was here that
he was struck."
The king turned towards his officer, and saw something like
a cloud pass over his martial and daring countenance.
"Yes, from behind!" murmured the lieutenant, with a gesture
of supreme disdain. And he endeavored to resume the march,
as if ill at ease at being between walls formerly defiled by
treachery.
But the king, who appeared to wish to be informed, was
disposed to give another look at this dismal spot.
Gaston perceived his nephew's desire.
"Look, sire," said he, taking a flambeau from the hands of
M. de Saint-Remy, "this is where he fell. There was a bed
there, the curtains of which he tore with catching at them."
"Why does the floor seem hollowed out at this spot?" asked
Louis.
"Because it was here the blood flowed," replied Gaston; "the
blood penetrated deeply into the oak, and it was only by
cutting it out that they succeeded in making it disappear.
And even then," added Gaston, pointing the flambeau to the
spot, "even then this red stain resisted all the attempts
made to destroy it."
Louis XIV. raised his head. Perhaps he was thinking of that
bloody trace that had once been shown him at the Louvre, and
which, as a pendant to that of Blois, had been made there
one day by the king his father with the blood of Concini.
"Let us go on," said he.
The march was resumed promptly, for emotion, no doubt, had
given to the voice of the young prince a tone of command
which was not customary with him. When arrived at the
apartment destined for the king, which communicated not only
with the little passage we have passed through, but further
with the great staircase leading to the court, --
"Will your majesty," said Gaston, "condescend to occupy this
apartment, all unworthy as it is to receive you?"
"Uncle," replied the young king, "I render you my thanks for
your cordial hospitality."
Gaston bowed to his nephew, embraced him, and then went out.
Of the twenty musketeers who had accompanied the king, ten
reconducted Monsieur to the reception-rooms, which were not
yet empty, notwithstanding the king had retired.
The ten others were posted by their officer, who himself
explored, in five minutes, all the localities, with that
cold and certain glance which not even habit gives unless
that glance belongs to genius.
Then, when all were placed, he chose as his headquarters the
ante-chamber, in which he found a large fauteuil, a lamp,
some wine, some water: and some dry bread.
He refreshed his lamp, drank half a glass of wine, curled
his lip with a smile full of expression, installed himself
in his large armchair, and made preparations for sleeping.
