The present anecdote concerning Cardinal Richelieu may serve to teach
the man of letters how he deals out criticisms to the _great_, when they
ask his opinion of manuscripts, be they in verse or prose.
The cardinal placed in a gallery of his palace the portraits of several
illustrious men, and was desirous of composing the inscriptions under
the portraits. The one which he intended for Montluc, the marechal of
France, was conceived in these terms: _Multa fecit, plura scripsit, vir
tamen magnus fuit_. He showed it without mentioning the author to
Bourbon, the royal Greek professor, and asked his opinion concerning it.
The critic considered that the Latin was much in the style of the
breviary; and, had it concluded with an _allelujah_, it would serve for
an _anthem_ to the _magnificat_. The cardinal agreed with the severity
of his strictures, and even acknowledged the discernment of the
professor; "for," he said, "it is really written by a priest." But
however he might approve of Bourbon's critical powers, he punished
without mercy his ingenuity. The pension his majesty had bestowed on him
was withheld the next year.
The cardinal was one of those ambitious men who foolishly attempt to
rival every kind of genius; and seeing himself constantly disappointed,
he envied, with all the venom of rancour, those talents which are so
frequently the _all_ that men of genius possess.
He was jealous of Balzac's splendid reputation; and offered the elder
Heinsius ten thousand crowns to write a criticism which should ridicule
his elaborate compositions. This Heinsius refused, because Salmasius
threatened to revenge Balzac on his _Herodes Infanticida_.
He attempted to rival the reputation of Corneille's "Cid," by opposing
to it one of the most ridiculous dramatic productions; it was the
allegorical tragedy called "Europe," in which the _minister_ had
congregated the four quarters of the world! Much political matter was
thrown together, divided into scenes and acts. There are appended to it
keys of the dramatis personæ and of the allegories. In this tragedy
Francion represents France; Ibere, Spain; Parthenope, Naples, &c.; and
these have their attendants:--Lilian (alluding to the French lilies) is
the servant of Francion, while Hispale is the confidant of Ibere. But
the key to the allegories is much more copious:--Albione signifies
England; _three knots of the hair of Austrasie_ mean the towns of
Clermont, Stenay, and Jamet, these places once belonging to Lorraine. _A
box of diamonds_ of Austrasie is the town of Nancy, belonging once to
the dukes of Lorraine. The _key_ of Ibere's great porch is Perpignan,
which France took from Spain; and in this manner is this sublime tragedy
composed! When he first sent it anonymously to the French Academy it was
reprobated. He then tore it in a rage, and scattered it about his study.
Towards evening, like another Medea lamenting over the members of her
own children, he and his secretary passed the night in uniting the
scattered limbs. He then ventured to avow himself; and having pretended
to correct this incorrigible tragedy, the submissive Academy retracted
their censures, but the public pronounced its melancholy fate on its
first representation. This lamentable tragedy was intended to thwart
Corneille's "Cid." Enraged at its success, Richelieu even commanded the
Academy to publish a severe _critique_ of it, well known in French
literature. Boileau on this occasion has these two well-turned verses:--
"En vain contre le Cid, un ministre se ligue;
Tout Paris, pour _Chimene_, a les yeux de _Rodrigue_."
"To oppose the Cid, in vain the statesman tries;
All Paris, for _Chimene_, has _Roderick's_ eyes."
It is said that, in consequence of the fall of this tragedy, the French
custom is derived of securing a number of friends to applaud their
pieces at their first representations. I find the following droll
anecdote concerning this droll tragedy in Beauchamp's _Recherches sur le
Théâtre_.
The minister, after the ill success of his tragedy, retired
unaccompanied the same evening to his country-house at Ruel. He then
sent for his favourite Desmaret, who was at supper with his friend
Petit. Desmaret, conjecturing that the interview would be stormy, begged
his friend to accompany him.
"Well!" said the Cardinal, as soon as he saw them, "the French will
never possess a taste for what is lofty; they seem not to have relished
my tragedy."--"My lord," answered Petit, "it is not the fault of the
piece, which is so admirable, but that of the _players_. Did not your
eminence perceive that not only they knew not their parts, but that they
were all _drunk_?"--"Really," replied the Cardinal, something pleased,
"I observed they acted it dreadfully ill."
Desmaret and Petit returned to Paris, flew directly to the players to
plan a _new mode_ of performance, which was to _secure_ a number of
spectators; so that at the second representation bursts of applause were
frequently heard!
Richelieu had another singular vanity, of closely imitating Cardinal
Ximenes. Pliny was not a more servile imitator of Cicero. Marville tells
us that, like Ximenes, he placed himself at the head of an army; like
him, he degraded princes and nobles; and like him, rendered himself
formidable to all Europe. And because Ximenes had established schools of
theology, Richelieu undertook likewise to raise into notice the schools
of the Sorbonne. And, to conclude, as Ximenes had written several
theological treatises, our cardinal was also desirous of leaving
posterity various polemical works. But his gallantries rendered him more
ridiculous. Always in ill health, this miserable lover and grave
cardinal would, in a freak of love, dress himself with a red feather in
his cap and sword by his side. He was more hurt by an offensive nickname
given him by the queen of Louis XIII., than even by the hiss of theatres
and the critical condemnation of academies.
Cardinal Richelieu was assuredly a great political genius. Sir William
Temple observes, that he instituted the French Academy to give
employment to the _wits_, and to hinder them from inspecting too
narrowly his politics and his administration. It is believed that the
Marshal de Grammont lost an important battle by the orders of the
cardinal; that in this critical conjuncture of affairs his majesty, who
was inclined to dismiss him, could not then absolutely do without him.
Vanity in this cardinal levelled a great genius. He who would attempt to
display universal excellence will be impelled to practise meanness, and
to act follies which, if he has the least sensibility, must occasion him
many a pang and many a blush.