First Hypothesis--Portrait of Buckingham--Causes of his Visit to
France--Ardour with which he was received--His Passion for Anne of
Austria--Character of this Princess--Journey to Amiens--Scene in the
Garden--The Remembrance that Anne of Austria preserved of it.
The Duke of Buckingham, charged by Charles I. with conducting
Henrietta-Maria, the new Queen of England, to London, arrived in Paris,
May 24, 1625.[27] This brilliant and audacious nobleman, who had
known how to become and to remain the ruling favourite of two kings
utterly different in character and mind, and who, from a very humble
position, had raised himself to the highest posts in the State, enjoyed
throughout the whole of Europe the most striking renown. He owed it,
however, less to the favours with which James I. had loaded him, and
which his son had continued, than to his attractive qualities and his
romantic adventures. All that Nature could bestow of grace, charm,
and the power of pleasing, he had received in profusion. Deficient in
the more precious gifts which retain, he possessed all those which
attract. He was well made, had a very handsome countenance,[28] was
of a proud bearing without being haughty, and knew how to affect,
according to circumstances, the emotion which he wished to communicate
to others, but did not feel himself. During a long stay in France,
he had succeeded in rendering exquisite those manners which were
naturally delicate, and had become accomplished in all the arts which
display the elegance of the body. He excelled in arms, showed himself
a clever horseman, and danced with a rare perfection. The adventurous
visit to Spain which he had made with the Prince of Wales[29] had
increased his reputation for elegant frivolity, and the successes which
his good looks and audacity had secured him made people forget the
defects of the incautious negotiator. Already extravagant during his
early poverty, he dissipated his fortune as if he had always lived in
the opulence for which he seemed born, displaying a magnificence and
a pomp unknown in a like degree before his time. Moreover, volatile
and presumptuous, as inconstant as pliant, without profundity in his
views, without connection in his projects, clever in maintaining
himself in power, but disastrous to the sovereigns whom he governed,
by turns insolently familiar and irresistibly attractive, sometimes
admired by the crowd for his supreme distinction, at others execrated
for his fatal authority, not low but impetuous in his caprices, not
knowing either how to foresee or to accept an obstacle, and sacrificing
everything to his fancy, he possessed none of the qualities of the
statesman although he may have had all those which characterize the
courtier.
He was expected, and was received in Paris with the most eager
curiosity. “M. de Buckingham,” wrote Richelieu to the Marquis d’Effiat,
“will find in me the friendship which he might expect from a true
brother who will render him all the services which he could desire of
any one in the world,”[30] and Louis XIII. caused to be said to him, “I
assure you that you will not be considered a stranger here, but a true
Frenchman, since you are one in heart, and have shown in this marriage
negotiation such uniform affection for the welfare and service of the
two crowns, that I think as much of it, so far as I am concerned, as
the King your master. You will be very welcome here, and you will have
access to me on all occasions.”[31]
From the day of his arrival, Buckingham really showed himself “a
true Frenchman” by his manner of behaving, by the ease and freedom
of his movements. “He entered the court,” says La Rochefoucauld,
“with more splendour, grandeur, and magnificence than if he were
King.”[32] Eight great lords and four-and-twenty knights accompanied
him. Twenty gentlemen and twelve pages were attached to his person,
and his entire suite was composed of six or seven hundred pages or
attendants.[33] “He had all the treasures of the Crown of England to
expend, and all its jewels to wear.”[34] He alighted at the splendid
Hôtel de Luynes in the Rue Saint-Thomas-du-Louvre, which was then
called the Hôtel de Chevreuse, “the most richly furnished hotel which
France at present possesses,” says the _Mercure_, and for several
days the people of Paris were dazzled by the extraordinary luxury
displayed by the ostentatious foreigner.[35] The admiration at the
court was quite as lively, and Buckingham there pushed liberality to
extravagance. Each of his sumptuous costumes was covered with pearls
and diamonds intentionally fastened on so badly that a great number
fell off, which the duke refused to receive when they were brought to
him. His prodigality, the importance of his mission, the seductiveness
which enveloped his past life, and the amiability which he invariably
displayed, his title of foreigner which rendered his perfectly French
manners more piquant, that art of pleasing which was so easy to him,
all contributed to make him alike the hero both of the town and of the
court.
Giddy with a success which surpassed even his expectations, and dazzled
by the splendour which he shed around him, he saw only the Queen of
France worthy of his homage, and suddenly conceived for her the most
vehement passion. Too frivolous to bury this sentiment in his heart,
he displayed it with complacency, and his temerity increased with
his ostentation. Anne of Austria was a Spaniard and a coquette. She
understood gallantry such as her country-women had learned it from
the Moors--that gallantry “which permits men to entertain without
criminal intentions tender sentiments for women; which inspires in
them fine actions, liberality, and all kinds of virtue.”[36] “She did
not consider,” says one who best knew Anne of Austria, “that the fine
talk, which is ordinarily called honest gallantry, where no particular
engagement is entered into, could ever be blamable.”[37]
So she tolerated with indulgence and without astonishment a passion
congenial to her recollections of her country and her youth, and
which, while flattering her self-esteem, did not at all shock her
virtue. She received this homage of vanity with the complacency of
coquetry, knowing herself to be most beautiful, most powerful, and
most worthy of being loved. On Buckingham’s side there was indiscreet
persistence, multiplied signs of being in love, and eagerness to be
near her; on hers, timid encouragement, gentle sternness, severity and
pardon by turns in her looks appeared to Anne of Austria the natural
and ordinary incidents of a gallantry where neither her honour nor
even her reputation seemed exposed to any peril. Moreover, if numerous
festivities gave them frequent opportunities of seeing one another, the
court being always present at the many interviews of the Ambassador
with the Queen, restrained and embarrassed the enterprising audacity of
the one, but entirely justified the confidence of the other.
After a week devoted to ballets, banquets, and feats of horsemanship,
the wife of Charles I. set out on June 2 for England, conducted by the
Duke of Buckingham, the Earls of Holland and Carlisle, and the Duke and
Duchess de Chevreuse. Louis XIII., who was ill, remained at Compiègne;
but Anne of Austria, as well as Marie de Medicis, accompanied by a
great number of French lords, proceeded to Amiens. There the brilliant
assemblies recommenced, and the Duke de Chaulnes, governor of the
province, gave the three Queens a most magnificent reception. During
several days the whole of the nobility of the neighbourhood came to
offer their homage and augment the brilliancy of the pleasure-parties
and fêtes given by the governor. The town not containing a palace
sufficiently large to receive the three Queens, they were lodged
separately, each being accompanied by a train of intimates and lords,
who formed a little court for her. Buckingham almost constantly
deserted his new sovereign in order to show himself wherever Anne of
Austria was. Attached to the abode of the latter was a large garden,
near the banks of the Somme. The Queen and her court were fond of
walking in it. One evening, attracted, as usual, by the beauty of the
place, and tempted by the mildness of the weather, Anne of Austria,
accompanied by Buckingham, the Duchess de Chevreuse, Lord Holland, and
all the ladies of her suite, prolonged her promenade later than usual.
Violently enamoured, and arrived at such a pitch of self-conceit that
everything seemed possible, the Duke was very tender, and even dared
to be importunate. The early departure of Henrietta Maria rendered
their separation imminent. Favoured by the falling night, and taking
advantage of a moment of isolation due to the winding of a path,
he threw himself at the Queen’s feet, and wished to give way to the
transports of his passion. But Anne, alarmed, and perceiving the danger
that she ran, uttered a loud cry, and Putange, her equerry, who was
walking a few steps behind her, rushed forward and seized the Duke. All
the suite arrived in turn, and Buckingham managed to get away in the
midst of the crowd.[38]
Two days afterwards Henrietta Maria quitted Amiens for Boulogne; Marie
de Medicis and Anne of Austria accompanied her to the gates of the
town. Anne of Austria was in a carriage with the Princess de Conti. It
was there that Buckingham took leave of her. Bending down to bid her
adieu, he covered himself with the window-curtain, in order to hide his
tears, which fell profusely. The Queen was moved at this display of
grief, and the Princess de Conti, “who gracefully rallied her, told her
that she could answer to the King for her virtue, but that she would
not do as much for her cruelty, as she suspected her eyes of having
regarded this lover with some degree of pity.”[39]
Too passionately enamoured for separation to be able to cure him of
his love, and excited still more to see Anne of Austria again by the
recollection of his gross rashness, the Duke of Buckingham, whom
unfavourable winds detained at Boulogne, returned suddenly to Amiens
with Lord Holland, under pretence of having an important letter to
deliver to Marie de Medicis, who, owing to a slight illness, had
not quitted this town. “Returned again!” said Anne of Austria to
Nogent-Bautru, on learning this news; “I thought that we were delivered
from him.”[40] She had been bled that morning, and was in bed when the
two English noblemen entered her chamber. Buckingham, blinded by his
passion, threw himself on his knees before the Queen’s bed, embracing
the coverings with ecstasy, and exhibiting, to the great scandal of
the ladies of honour, the impetuous sentiments which agitated him.
The Countess de Lannoi wished to force him to rise, telling him, with
severity, that such behaviour was not according to French customs. “I
am not French,” replied the Duke, and he continued, but always in the
presence of several witnesses, to eloquently express his tenderness
for the Queen. The latter, being very much embarrassed, could not at
first say anything; then she complained of such boldness, but without
a great deal of indignation; and it is probable that her heart took no
part in the reproaches which she addressed to the duke. The next day he
departed a second time for Boulogne, and never again saw the Queen of
France.
Such is the famous scene at Amiens, which furnished opportunities
for the gross liveliness of Tallemant des Réaux and the libertine
imagination of the Cardinal de Retz.[41] The statements of La Porte,
who was present, of Madame de Motteville, who collected her information
from eye-witnesses, and of La Rochefoucauld, less likely to show
partiality, leave no doubt of Anne of Austria’s innocence. Marie de
Medicis, whose interest it then was to injure her with Louis XIII., and
who often did so without scruple, could not on this occasion, says La
Porte,[42] “avoid bearing witness to the truth, and telling the King
that there was nothing in it; that if the Queen might have been willing
to act wrongly, it would have been impossible, with so many people
about her who were watching her, and that she could not prevent the
Duke of Buckingham having esteem or even love for her. She related also
a number of things of this kind which had happened to herself in her
youth.”
Marie de Medicis might also have quoted examples from the life of Anne
of Austria herself, who had previously loved the Duke de Montmorency
and the Duke de Bellegarde without her honour having been tarnished
by so doing.[43] The recollection of Buckingham’s love dwelt more
profoundly in the memory of all, because his passion had been more
fiery and had been manifested by incautious acts. But to the end of
the Queen’s life, even after the death of Louis XIII., and during the
regency, it was in her presence a subject of conversation which she
listened to complacently, because it flattered her self-esteem, and
which she would certainly not have tolerated, had any one dared to
start it, if this recollection had been to her a cause for remorse. Far
from this, people familiarly jested with her about it with grace, and
without offending her, since they could thus remind her of a liking
which had been sufficiently strong, but had not led her to commit any
fault. Richelieu, presenting Mazarin to the Queen, said, “You will
like him, madam, he has Buckingham’s manner.”[44] Much later Anne of
Austria, when Regent, meeting Voiture walking along in a dreamy state,
in her garden of Ruel, and asking him what he was thinking of, received
in reply these verses, which did not at all offend her:--
“Je pensais que la destinée,
Après tant d’injustes malheurs,
Vous a justement couronnée
De gloire, d’éclat et d’honneurs;
Mais que vous étiez plus heureuse
Lorsque vous étiez autrefois,
Je ne veux pas dire amoureuse,
La rime le veut toutefois.
Je pensais (que nos autres poëtes
Nous pensons extravagamment)
Ce que, dans l’humeur où vous êtes,
Vous feriez si, dans ce moment,
Vous avisiez en cette place
Venir le Duc de Buckingham,
Et lequel serait en disgrâce,
De lui ou du père Vincent.”[45]
Everything combines to absolve Anne of Austria from the crime of which
she was accused during the troubles of the Fronde, and in the midst of
the unjust passions aroused by civil war. Louis XIII.’s conduct with
respect to her, and his persistent coldness, alone seemed to condemn
her. But does this coldness date from Buckingham’s stay in Paris? Were
the isolation in which Louis XIII. often remained and his neglect of
the Queen such as people have believed up to the present time? Must
we admit, as has been maintained, the proof of a criminal infidelity
on the part of this Princess, deliberately committed either with
Buckingham in 1625, or with an unknown individual, in 1630, with the
view of being able, at the instant of Louis XIII.’s death, which then
seemed imminent, to reign in the name of a child of whom she should be
_enceinte_, and who, after the unexpected recovery of the King, became
the Man with the Iron Mask?
FOOTNOTES:
[27] _Mercure Français_, 1625, pp. 365, 366.
[28] _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville_, p. 15.
[29] The Prince of Wales had been on the point of espousing the Infanta
Maria, Anne of Austria’s sister, and had proceeded to Spain with
Buckingham, in order to hasten the conclusion of this project. See the
very interesting Story of this negotiation in M. Guizot’s _Un Projet de
Mariage Royal_.
[30] Collection of Unpublished Documents concerning the History of
France. _Lettres et Papiers d’État du Cardinal de Richelieu_, published
by M. Avenel, vol. ii. p. 55.
[31] _Ibid._ vol. ii. p. 71.
[32] _Mémoires de la Rochefoucauld_, p. 340.
[33] Hardwicke (_State Papers_), vol. i. p. 571. Documents quoted in M.
Guizot’s work already cited, p. 332.
[34] _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville_, p. 16. _Mercure Français_,
1625, p. 366.
[35] _Mercure Français_, _ibid._
[36] _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville_, p. 18. “In our time,” adds
Madame de Motteville, “there has existed what the Spaniards call
_fucezas_.” “This word,” remarks the commentator on these Memoirs,
“appears to come from _huso_, a distaff. It seems to express the idea
of spinning love.”
[37] _Ibid._
[38] _Mémoires de La Porte._ _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville_, p. 16.
_Mémoires de la Rochefoucauld_, p. 340.
[39] _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville._
[40] _Mémoires de La Porte_, pp. 8, 9. Madame de Motteville assures us
that her mistress was informed of this visit by Madame de Chevreuse,
which is possible. It is the only point, and moreover, a very secondary
one, in which La Porte’s account differs from Madame de Motteville’s.
But we must not forget that the former was an eye-witness, whilst the
latter, who entered the service of Anne of Austria afterwards, learnt
the events, which she describes at the commencement of her Memoirs,
long subsequent to their occurrence.
[41] Retz places the Amiens scene at the Louvre, and does not neglect
the opportunity of blackening the Queen’s honour.
[42] _Mémoires de La Porte_, p. 10.
[43] _Mémoires de Madame de Motteville_, p. 18.
[44] _Mémoires de Tallemant des Réaux_, vol. i. p. 422.
[45] Père Vincent was the Queen’s confessor.--_Mémoires de Madame de
Motteville_, vol. i. pp. 81, 82.