A DAY WITH THE SUN KING
Louis the Magnificent, we must agree with that profuse and sharp-witted
chronicler, the Duke of Saint-Simon, was made for a brilliant Court. "In
the midst of other men, his figure, his courage, his grace, his beauty,
his grand mien, even the tone of his voice and the majestic and natural
charm of all his person, distinguished him till his death as the King
Bee, and showed that if he had been born only a simple private gentleman,
he would have excelled in fetes, pleasures and gallantry. . . . He
liked splendor, magnificence and profusion in everything. Nobody ever
approached his magnificence."
With sumptuous detail the King's day progressed at Versailles, from the
formal "rising" to the hour when, with equal pomp, the monarch went to
bed. Before eight o'clock in the morning the waiting-room next the
King's bedchamber was the gathering-place of princes, nobles and officers
of the Court, each fresh from his own laving and be-wigging. While they
passed the time in low converse, the formal ceremony of the King's
awakening took place behind the gold and white doors of the royal
sleeping-room. "The Chamber," one of the eleven offices in the service
of the King, comprised four first gentlemen of the Chamber, twenty-four
gentlemen of the Chamber, twenty-four pages of the Chamber, four first
valets of the Chamber, sixteen ushers, thirty-two valets of the Chamber,
two cloak-bearers, two gun-bearers, eight barbers, three watch-makers,
one dentist, and many minor attendants--all under the direction of the
Grand Chamberlain.
A few minutes before eight o'clock it was the duty of the chief _valet de
chambre_ to see that a fire was laid in the King's chamber (if the
weather required one), that blinds were drawn, and candles snuffed. As
the clock chimed the hour of eight, he approached the embroidered red
velvet curtains of the royal bed with the announcement, "Sire, it is the
hour."
When the curtains were drawn and the royal eyelids lifted upon a new day,
the children of the King were admitted to make their morning obeisance.
The chief physician and surgeon and the King's old nurse then entered to
greet the waking monarch. While they performed certain offices allotted
them, the Grand Chamberlain was summoned. The first _valet de chambre_
took his place by the bed and, holding a silver basin beneath the King's
hands, poured on them spirits of wine from a flagon. The Grand
Chamberlain next presented the vase of Holy Water to the King, who
accepted it and made the Sign of the Cross. Opportunity was given at
this moment for the princes, or any one having the _grande entree_, to
speak to the King, after which the Grand Chamberlain offered to His
Majesty a prayer-book, and all present passed from the room except those
privileged to stay for the brief religious service that followed.
Surrounded by princes, nobles and high officers attached to his person,
the King chose his wig for the day, put on the slippers and dressing-gown
presented by the appointed attendant, and stepped outside the massive
balustrade that surrounded his bed. Now the doors opened to admit those
that had the right to be present while the King donned his silk stockings
and diamond-buckled garters and shoes--acts that he performed "with
address and grace." On alternate days, when his night-cap had been
removed, the nobles and courtiers were privileged to see the King shave
himself, while a mirror, and, if the morning was dull, lighted candles
were held before his face by the first _valet de chambre_. Occasionally
His Majesty briefly addressed some one in the room. The assemblage was,
by this time, augmented by the admission of secretaries and officers
attached to the palace, whose position entitled them to the "first
_entree_." When his wig was in place and the dressing of the royal
person had proceeded at the hands of officers of the Wardrobe (there
were, in all, sixty persons attached to this service), the King spoke the
word that opened the ante-chamber doors to the cardinals, ambassadors and
government officials that awaited the ceremony of the _grand lever_, or
"grand rising," so-called in distinction to the more intimate _petit
lever_. Altogether, no less than one hundred and fifty persons were
present while the King went through the daily ceremony of the rising and
the toilet.
When the Sovereign of France had breakfasted on a service of porcelain
and gold, had permitted his sword and his jeweled orders to be fastened
on, and, from proffered baskets of cravats and handkerchiefs, had made
his choice; when he had prayed by his bedside with cardinals and clergy
in attendance; had granted brief informal interviews, and had attended
mass in the chapel of Versailles, it was his custom to ask for the
Council. Thrice a week there was a council of State, and twice a week a
finance council. Thus the mornings passed, with the exception of
Thursday morning, when His Majesty gave "back-stair" audiences known to
but a few, and Friday morning, which was spent with his confessor.
Louis was always a busy man of affairs and never shirked his kingly
duties. It was a principle of his life to place duty first and pleasure
after. He told his son in his memoirs that an idle king showed
ingratitude toward God and injustice toward man. "The requirements and
demands of royalty," he wrote, "which may, at times, appear hard and
irksome, you should find easy and agreeable in high places. Nothing will
exhaust you more than idleness. If you tire of great affairs, and give
up to pleasures, you will soon be disgusted with your own idleness. To
take in the whole world with intelligent eyes, to be learning constantly
what is going on in the provinces and among other nations--the court
secrets, the habits, the weaknesses of princes and foreign ministers, to
see clearly what all people are trying, to their utmost, to conceal, to
fathom the most deep-seated thoughts and convictions of those that attend
us in our own court--what greater pleasure and satisfaction could there
be, if we were simply prompted by curiosity?"
Ordinarily, when at Versailles, the King dined alone at one o'clock,
seated by the middle window of his chamber, overlooking the courtyards,
the Place d'Armes, and the long avenue that led to Paris. More than
three hundred persons,--stewards, chefs, butlers, gentlemen servants,
carvers, cup-bearers, table-setters, cellarers, gardeners,--were charged
with the care of the kitchens, pantries, cellars, fruit-lofts,
store-rooms, linen closets, and treasuries of gold and silver plate
belonging to the King's immediate household--the _Maison du Roi_. The
Officers of the Goblet were present when the King was served, having
first, with attendant ceremonies, "made the trial" of napkins and table
implements as a safeguard from evil designs against his life. Even the
simplest repast served to the King comprised many dishes, for the Grand
Monarch ate heartily, though with discriminating appetite.
Unless the Sovereign dined in the privacy of his bed-chamber, he was
surrounded by princes and courtiers. At "public dinners" a procession of
well-dressed persons continually passed through the room to observe the
King at his dining.
It was ordained that the King's meat should be brought to the table from
the kitchens in the Grand Commune after this manner: "Two of His
Majesty's guards will march first, followed by the usher of the hall, the
_maitre d'hotel_ with his baton, the gentleman servant of the pantry, the
controller-general, the controller clerk of the Office, and others who
carry the Meat, the equerry of the kitchen and the guard of the plates
and dishes, and behind them two other guards of His Majesty, who are to
allow no one to approach the Meat.
"In the Office called the _Bouche_, the equerry of the Kitchen arranges
the dishes upon a table, and presents two trials of bread to the _maitre
d'hotel_, who makes the trial of the first course, and who, having placed
the meats for the trial upon these two trials of bread, gives one to the
equerry of the Kitchen, who eats it, while the other is eaten by the
_maitre d'hotel_. Afterward the gentleman servant takes the first dish,
the second is taken by the controller, and the other officers of the
Kitchen take the rest. They advance in this order: the _maitre d'hotel_,
having his baton, marches at the head, preceded some steps by the usher
of the hall, carrying his wand, which is the sign of his office, and in
the evening bearing a torch as well. When the Meat, accompanied by three
of the body-guards with carbines on their shoulders, has arrived (that
is, in the first antechamber, where the King is to dine), the _maitre
d'hotel_ makes a reverence to the _nef_. The gentleman servant, holding
the first dish, places it upon the table where the _nef_ is, and having
received a trial portion from the gentleman servant in charge of the
trial table, he makes the trial himself and places his dish upon the
trial table. The gentleman servant having charge of this table takes the
other dishes from the hands of those who carry them, and places them also
on the trial table. After the trial of them has been made they are
carried by the other gentlemen servants to the table of the King.
"The first course being on the table, the _maitre d'hotel_ with his
baton, preceded by the usher of the hall with his wand, goes to inform
the King; and when His Majesty has arrived at table the _maitre d'hotel_
presents a wet napkin to him, of which trial has been made in the
presence of the officer of the Goblet, and takes it again from the King's
hands. During the dinner the gentleman servant in charge of the trial
table continues to make trial in the presence of the officers of the
Goblet and of the Kitchen of all that they bring for each course.
"When His Majesty desires to drink, the cup-hearer cries at once in a
loud tone, 'The drink for the King!' makes a reverence to the King, and
goes to the sideboard to take from the hands of the chief of the
Wine-cellars the salver and cup of gold, and the two crystal decanters of
wine and water. He returns, preceded by the chiefs of the Goblet and the
Wine-cellars, and the three, having reached the King's table, make a
reverence to His Majesty. The chief of the Goblet, standing near the
King, holds a little trial cup of silver-gilt, into which a gentleman
servant pours a small quantity of wine and water from the decanters. A
portion of this the chief of the Goblet pours into a second trial cup
which is presented by his assistant, who, in turn, hands it to the
gentleman servant. The chief and the gentleman servant make the trial,
and when the latter has handed his cup to the chief, that officer returns
both cups to his assistant. When the trial has been made in this manner
in the King's sight, the gentleman servant, making a reverence to the
King, presents to His Majesty the cup of gold and the golden salver on
which are the decanters. The King pours out the wine and water, and
having drunk, replaces the cup upon the salver. The gentleman servant
makes another reverence to the King, and returns the salver and all upon
it to the chief of the Wine-cellars, who carried it to the side-board."
The ceremony of tasting the King's wine was most impressive, and it was
regarded as a necessary and effective safeguard against poisonous attacks
or deleterious effects on His Majesty's august health. The thought is
suggested, however, that the test could have been effective only in case
of immediate or quick-working poison. A slow and insidious drug--and
there were experts in such concoctions in those days--would surely have
passed the taster's test and affected the King in time. The test was but
a mere formality, however, for Louis was the Most Adored Monarch. As one
chronicler has observed, "He was not only majestic, he was amiable.
Those that surrounded him, the members of his family, his ministers, his
domestics, loved him." Poison played no part in his career. That subtle
method of attack was reserved for Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, on both
of whom it was attempted more than once.
The carver, having taken his place before the table of the King,
presented and uncovered all the dishes, and when His Majesty told him to
do so, or made him a sign, he removed them, handing them to the
plate-changer or to his assistants. He changed the King's plate and
napkin from time to time, and cut the meats when the King did not cut
them himself.
On rare occasions, when the King was in residence at Versailles, his
brother dined with him. But large, formal dinners were rare, and women
were seldom at the King's table except on grand occasions.
Upon leaving the table, Saint-Simon tells us, "the King immediately
entered his cabinet. That was the time for distinguished people to speak
to him. He stopped at the door a moment to listen, then entered; very
rarely did any one follow him, never without asking permission to do so;
and for this few had the courage. . . . The King amused himself by
feeding his dogs, and remained with them more or less time, then asked
for his wardrobe, changed before the very few distinguished people it
pleased the first gentleman of the Chamber to admit there, and
immediately went out by the back stairs into the court of marble to get
the air. . . . He went out for three objects: stag-hunting, once or more
each week; shooting in his parks (and no man handled a gun with more
grace or skill), once or twice each week; and walking in his gardens, and
to see his workmen."
The King was fond of hunting and the chase held an important part in the
service of the royal household. The conditions of the sport were
determined with a formality in keeping with the other affairs of
Versailles. There were two divisions of the chase--the hunting and the
shooting. The first had to do with the chase of the stag, deer, wild
boar, wolf, fox and the hare. The shooting had to do with smaller game.
Here was also falconry, though in this Louis was not particularly
interested. The chase was conducted by the Grand Huntsman of France, and
his duties were enormous and varied. Under him the Captain General of
the Toils kept the woods of Versailles well stocked with stag, deer,
boars, and other animals caught in the forests of France. Some idea of
the pomp and ceremony of the hunt may be obtained from the following
account which was printed in the _Mercure Galant_ in 1707:
"The toils were placed in the glades of Bombon. In the inclosure there
were a large number of stags, wild boars, roebucks, and foxes. The court
arrived there. The King, the Queen of England (the wife of James II,
then in exile), her son, Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne, and Madame (the
Duchesse d'Orleans, wife of Monsieur) were in the same carriage, and all
the princesses and the ladies followed in the carriages and _caleches_ of
the king. A very large number of noblemen on horseback accompanied the
carriages. Within the inclosure there were platforms, arranged with
seats covered with tapestry for the ladies, and many riding-horses for
the nobles who wished to attack the game with swords or darts. They
killed sixteen of the largest beasts, and some foxes. Mgr. le Duc de
Berry slew several. This chase gave much pleasure on account of the
brilliancy of the spectacle, and the large number of nobles who
surrounded the toils. A multitude of people had climbed into the trees,
and by their diversity they formed an admirable background."
Stag hunting was even more impressive in ceremonial details. After the
chase the "quarry" was usually held by torchlight at Versailles, in one
of the inner courts, and the ceremony of the quarry was as follows: "When
His Majesty had made known his intentions on the subject, all the
huntsmen with their horns and in hunting-dress came to the place where
the quarry was to be made. On the arrival of the King, who was also in
hunting-dress, the grand huntsman, who had received two wands of office,
gave one to the King, and retained the other. The dogs were held under
the whip about the carcass of the stag until the grand huntsman, having
received the order from the King, gave the sign with his wand that they
should be set at liberty. The horns sounded, and the huntsmen, who while
the hounds were held under the whip had cried, 'Back, dogs! Back!'
shouted now, 'Hallali, valets! Hallali!' When the quarry had been made,
that is to say, when the flesh had been torn from the bones, a valet took
the _forhu_ (the belly of the stag, washed and placed on the end of a
forked stick), and called the dogs, crying, '_Tayaut, tayaut_!' and threw
the _forhu_ into the midst of the pack, where it was devoured at once.
At this instant the fanfares redoubled, and finished by sounding the
retreat. The King returned the wand to the grand huntsman, who at the
head of all the huntsmen followed His Majesty."
In his promenades at Versailles and Trianon any courtiers that chose to
do so were permitted to follow the King. On his return from out-door
recreation His Majesty, after again changing his costume, remained in his
cabinet resting or working. Frequently he passed some time in the
apartments of Madame de Maintenon.
At ten o'clock the captain of the guard announced supper in the chamber
between the Hall of the King's Guards and the antechamber called "Bull's
Eye." This meal was always on a pretentious scale, and was attended at
table by the royal children and numerous courtiers and ladies. When the
last course had been served the King retired to his bedchamber and there
for a few moments received all his Court, before passing into his
Cabinet, where he spent something less than an hour in the company of his
immediate household, his brother seated in an arm-chair, the princesses
upon stools, and the Dauphin and all the other princes standing.
When the King had bid the company goodnight he entered his sleeping-room,
where were already the courtiers privileged to attend the ceremony of the
_coucher_, or going-to-bed. At the _grand coucher_ the King, being
formally divested of his hat, gloves, cane and sword, knelt by the
balustrade about his bed, while an almoner murmured a prayer as he held a
lighted candle above the royal head. When the King had risen from his
knees he gave to the first _valet de chambre_ his watch and the holy
relics he was accustomed to wear, and proceeded through the assemblage to
his chair. This was the moment when, with regal mien, the Sun King
bestowed the candle upon whomever he wished to honor--a ceremony brief,
trifling, but significant of the Monarch of Monarchs in its gracious
portent.
To the Master of the Wardrobe fell the task of removing the King's coat
and vest; the diamond buckles of the right and left garters were
unfastened respectively by the first _valet de chambre_ and the first
valet of the wardrobe, and the valets of the Chamber withdrew with the
kingly shoes and breeches while the pages of the Chamber presented
slippers and dressing-gown. The latter was held as a screen while the
shirt was removed, and the night-dress was accepted from the hands of a
royal prince, or the Grand Chamberlain.
Having put on the dressing-gown, the King, with an inclination of the
head, dismissed the courtiers, to whom the ushers cried, "Gentlemen, pass
on!"
All those that were entitled to remain for the _petit coucher_--princes,
clergymen, officers, chosen intimates--then disposed themselves about the
bedchamber while the King submitted to the hands of his coiffeur and
received from the Grand Master of the Wardrobe the night-cap and
handkerchiefs. After bathing his face and hands in a silver basin held
by a royal prince or grand master, the _petit coucher_ was at an end.
The bathing apartments of Versailles were numerous and luxuriously
appointed, but, though the most trivial details in the daily life of His
Majesty were attended with imposing circumstance, there is no record of a
Ceremony of the King's Bath, nor do we know of any noble order at the
Grand Monarch's court that held the title of Knights of the Bath.
When the assemblage that witnessed the _petit coucher_ in the royal
apartment had dwindled one by one, according to precedent, the Master of
Versailles was, at last, free to do as he chose,--to play with his dogs
in an adjoining cabinet, or take his ease in pleasing solitude. Then, in
the familiar words of Samuel Pepys' immortal diary, "Home, and to bed."
Outside the gilded balustrade the first _valet de chambre_ slept on a
folding cot. "Beyond that balustrade, by the faint candle-light, there
loomed among the shadows a white-plumed canopy and crimson curtains. The
Grand Monarch slept."