[Footnote 192: _Introduction par M. le Comte d" Haussonville, aux Souvenirs sur Mme. de Maintenon._]
[Footnote 193: _Kant als Mensch_, by Erich Ad.i.c.kes.]
[Footnote 194: Romain Rolland.]
[Footnote 195: _Memoires_ of Mademoiselle.]
[Footnote 196: _OEuvres galantes en vers et en prose_, by M. Cotin.]
[Footnote 197: For this see _Les Ennemis de Racine_, by F. Deltour; _Les epoques du Theatre francais_, and _Les etudes critiques sur l"Histoire de la Litterature francaise_ by M. F. Brunetiere; the memoirs and correspondence of the times; the collection of _Mercure galant_; _les prefaces de Racine_, etc.]
[Footnote 198: Criticism by Boursault.]
[Footnote 199: Deltour, _Les Ennemies de Racine_.]
[Footnote 200: _Gazette de Loret_, January 13, 1663.]
[Footnote 201: _Memoires sur la vie et les ouvrages de Jean Racine_, by Louis Racine.]
[Footnote 202: See the volume by MM. Jean Lemoine and Andre Lichtenberger, _De La Valliere a Montespan_.]
[Footnote 203: _Souvenirs sur Mme. de Maintenon._--_Les Cahiers de Mlle.
d"Aumale_, with an _Introduction_ by M. G. Hanotaux.]
[Footnote 204: May 27, to M. de Montchevreuil.]
[Footnote 205: "_Frappez_" would have been misunderstood.]
[Footnote 206: _Remerciement au Roi_ (1663).]
[Footnote 207: The Convent of Saint-Joseph, rue Saint Dominique; Mme. de Montespan had constructed in it an apartment for herself.]
[Footnote 208: The Comte de Vexin, who died young.--Mme. de Sevigne, letter dated June 14, 1675.]
CHAPTER V
The Grande Mademoiselle in Love--Sketch of Lauzun and their Romance--The Court on its Travels--Death of Madame--Announcement of the Marriage of Mademoiselle--General Consternation--Louis XIV. Breaks the Affair.
In the spring of 1669, Louis XIV. one day was listening to the Comtesse de Soissons sing. She was the second of the Mazarin nieces, and the only really wicked one in the family. She sang a new song containing many naughty couplets, in which mud was thrown upon some of the courtiers.
Men and women received their packet under the guise of mock praise, according to a fashion much in vogue. The phrase "mock praise" had become the name of a form of satire, which made an almost unique literature. The King permitted the couplets to pa.s.s in silence. He did not even protest at this one:
Et pour M. Le Grand,[209]
Il est tout mystere; Quand il est galant, Il a comme La Valliere L"esprit penetrant.
The Countess then arrived at a couplet on Puyguilhem, better known under the name of Lauzun.[210]
De la cour La vertu la plus pure Est en Peguilin....
At this place the King interrupted: "If it is wished to vex him, they are wrong, but when people act as he has done, they must be let alone; as for others, they are badly treated." The sudden displeasure of the King at the mention of Puyguilhem caused a general silence, and the song stopped at this point.
The Grande Mademoiselle was present at this scene, and was surprised to discover that she was not indifferent to its import. Up to this time, she had scarcely known Lauzun, who did not belong to her coterie. "It pleased me," says her _Memoires_, "to hear the manner in which the King spoke of him; I felt some instinct of the future." This was the first warning of the pa.s.sion which had already insinuated itself into the depths of her heart; but she did not yet comprehend it. The idea came to her, however, of seizing an occasion to converse with Lauzun. She felt an inclination for this at once. "He has," said she, "a manner of explaining himself which is very extraordinary." Mademoiselle was interested, but she still believed that it was only the conversational capacity which pleased her in the little cadet of Gascony. She began to query, however, why, having been sufficiently content during her five years of exile, she was now so willing to remain a fixture. The year had ended before she found a satisfactory response to this question: "I went in the month of December (the 6th) to Saint-Germain, from which I did not depart. I soon accustomed myself to it. Ordinarily, I only stayed three or four days, and my present long sojourn surprised every one."
On the 31st, she decided at length to return to Paris: "I was very bored there, and could not discover what I had done at Saint-Germain which had so much diverted me." She hastened to rejoin the Court, without knowing why, and commenced again her conversations with Lauzun, but still remained unconscious of any sentiment. She only knew that she was troubled and agitated, and discontented with her condition, and that she felt a desire to marry. The desire dated back a long time, but of late it had become so insistent that Mademoiselle was forced to examine herself seriously.
The pa.s.sage in which she relates her discovery is charmingly natural and significantly true:
I reasoned with myself (for I did not speak to any one) and I said, "this is no longer a vague thought; it must have some object." I did not discover who it was. I sought, I dreamed, but could not find out. Finally, after some days of anxiety, I perceived that it was M. de Lauzun whom I loved, who had glided into my heart. I thought him the most worthy man in the world, the most agreeable; nothing was lacking to make me happy but a husband like him, whom I should love and who would love me devotedly; that heretofore I had never been loved; that it was necessary once in life to taste the sweetness of being adored by some one, which would make worth while the sufferings caused by the pangs of love.
This explanation of her own heart was followed by days of intoxication.
Mademoiselle lived in a dream, and all was easy, all was arranged: "It appeared to me that I found more pleasure in seeing him and in talking to him than heretofore; that the days in which he was absent, I was bored, and I believe that the same feeling came to him; that he did not care to confess this, but the pains he took to come wherever he was likely to meet me made the fact clear." In the absence of Lauzun, she sought solitude in order to think of him freely. "I was delighted to be alone in my chamber; I formed plans of what I could do for him which would give him a higher position."
One single thought, characteristic of her generation, came to trouble her happiness; she queried of herself if the great princesses of the theatre of Corneille would have married a cadet of Gascogne. a.s.suredly, pa.s.sion blows where it listeth. Corneille had never denied this; but he had maintained that the will should render us masters of our affections, and his plays bear witness that love, even when founded in a just feeling of admiration, can efface itself before the sentiment of the duty owed to rank. Happily, poets, even when they are named Corneille, sometimes contradict themselves, and Mademoiselle, who had seen plays since the days of swaddling clothes, well knew her _repertoire_. She now recalled for her comfort a pa.s.sage in the _Suite du Menteur_ which clearly established the "predestination of marriage, and the foresight of G.o.d," so that it was a Christian duty to submit without resistance to sentiments sent to us "from the sky."
Although sure of her own memory, which was indeed excellent, Mademoiselle sent in great haste to Paris to secure a copy of the play, and found the page (Act IV.) in which Melisse confides to Lise his love for Dorante:
Quand les ordres du ciel nous ont faits l"un pour l"autre, Lise, c"est un accord bientot fait que le notre.
Sa main entre les c[oe]urs, par un secret pouvoir, Seme l"intelligence avant que de se voir; Il prepare si bien l"amant et la maitresse, Que leur ame au seul nom s"emeut et s"interesse.
On s"estime, on se cherche, on s"aime en un moment; Tout ce qu"on s"entredit persuade ais.e.m.e.nt; Et, sans s"inquieter de mille peurs frivoles, La foi semble courir au-devant des paroles.
How was it possible to doubt for a single instant after having read these verses that there is impiety in disobeying the "commands" to love which come to us from on high? Nevertheless, serious conflicts took place in the soul of the royal pupil of Corneille. Sometimes she represented to herself with vivacity the joys of marriage, among the keenest of which would be the witnessing the vexation of her heirs, who were already beginning to find that she was making them wait too long, and whom she longed to disappoint. Sometimes her mind could only dwell upon the scandal which such a _mesalliance_ would cause, the reprobation of some, and the laughter of others, and then her pride rose in arms.
She thus on one day desired the marriage eagerly, while on the next she detested the thought of it, the vacillation depending upon the fact of her having between times seen or not seen M. de Lauzun.
This struggle between the head and the heart was prolonged during several weeks;
finally, after having often pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed the pro and con through my brain, my heart decided the affair, and it was in the Church of Recollects in which I took my final resolution.
Never had I felt so much devotion in church, and those who regarded me perceived that I was much absorbed; I believe that G.o.d surprised me with His commands. The next day, which was the second of March, I was very gay.
If Mademoiselle had been of the age of Juliet, this would have been a pretty romance. But she was perhaps slightly too mature to play with the grand pa.s.sion.
The man who was the cause of these agitations is one of the best-known figures of his times. Traces of him are found in all the contemporary writings. The singularity of his personality joined to the prodigies of his luck, good and bad, had made him an object of interest to his contemporaries. It was of him that La Bruyere said: "No one can guess how he lives."[211] The political world, the ministers at the head, observed him with an anxious attention, because he had accomplished the miracle of becoming the favourite of the King, while possessing precisely the defects which Louis XIV. feared the most. Lauzun did not attain the position of such a favourite as the Constable de Luynes under Louis XIII., but he secured sufficient influence to acc.u.mulate offices and honours.
Antonin Nompar de Caumont, Marquis de Puyguilhem, later Comte de Lauzun, was born in 1633 (or 1632) of an ancient family of Perigord. His parents had nine children and nothing to give to the younger ones; but their birth a.s.sured to this youthful throng access to the Court and hope of aid from it. The third of the boys resembled Poucet in form and also possessed his keenness of mind. It was decided to send him to seek his fortune, not in the forest, as with the hero of the tale, but in the vicinity of the Court of France, the parents being convinced that with his acuteness he would not permit himself to be eaten by the ogre, but would rather succeed in devouring others.
The Marechal de Gramont, first cousin of the old Lauzun, saw arrive at his mansion a very little man, with the face of "a flayed cat,"[212]
surrounded with flaxen hair, who claimed to be fourteen years of age.
This grotesque person was as lively as a sparrow and Gascon to the tips of his fingers.
The Marshal kept him and provided for his education. In winter the little man went to the "academy" to learn to dance, to shoot, and to ride. In the summer he campaigned with a cavalry regiment belonging to his uncle. There was apparently no plan for serious study of any kind, nor even any attention paid to making the youth read. Complete ignorance was still accepted among the n.o.bility without remark; there had been little change for the better in this respect since the previous century.
The parents of Lauzun had well judged. In a short time the boy had wormed himself into the most imposing mansions, the most sacred chambers. He was seen with the King, he was met in the company of beautiful ladies. The Court and the city became familiar with his furtive and impudent physiognomy, which soon grew haughty and insolent.
At eighteen, his father gave him his first military charge. At twenty-four, he possessed a regiment; then suddenly, when the King came to power, he received advancements, favours, an always increasing and inexplicable credit, which aroused for him the hatred of Louvois, for in the frequent discussions in relation to the service, "the favourite always conquered." One of his tricks, which was unparalleled for impudence, and the discovery of which might well have crushed him for ever, ended in proving his strength.
[Ill.u.s.tration:
Cliche Braun, Clement & Cie.