CHAPTER IV.

MADAME DES URSINS ASSUMES THE FUNCTIONS OF CAMERARA-MAYOR TO THE YOUNG

QUEEN OF SPAIN--AN UNPROPITIOUS ROYAL WEDDING.

IT was, therefore, with a paraphernalia almost regal that Madame des

Ursins set forth to conduct the Princess of Savoy to her husband. Our

heroine was then in her fifty-ninth year (1701), according to most

authorities, in her sixty-second, according to others; and either age

would have been for any one else the period for retreat. But by the rare

privilege of a singular energy, physical and moral, still beautiful, and

having as yet only prepared herself for playing the grand part of her

life's drama, she was about to make that advanced age a point of

departure in her militant career, the outset of a new existence. She had

not committed the error of remaining attached to old customs or old

styles of dress, she had, as the present phrase runs, advanced with the

age. She had sympathised with it with a juvenile ardour, she had noted,

at a distance, its deviations. She was desirous, by opposing it on many

points, to take advantage of its decreptitude. She could not shut her

eyes to the dazzling aspect of Madame de Maintenon's laurels.

We have shown what the Princess was as a young woman, and also at the

mature age of forty; but it is during the twenty-four years of her green

old age (1698-1722) when having become a great political personage, we

have to behold her exercising a powerful influence over the destinies of

two great kingdoms, and aspiring to soar to a greater height than ever

her painstaking ambition enabled her to attain. It was then that

ambition began to take entire possession of her soul, and displaced in

her heart every other sentiment that her previous sixty-two years had

not extinguished. There can be no doubt of that fact when we discover in

her letters such a glow of youthful feeling, such scarcely repressible

delight, and finally that air of triumph with which she proposes to

welcome and profit by her first elevation.

Her ambition, moreover, could not have had a more brilliant and

legitimate aim than that of associating herself in the glorious task of

France become the instructress of Spain; and Madame des Ursins, who

joined to her own the aspirations of the other sex, entered upon her new

mission with a zeal, an ardour, and an activity more than virile.

Into what profound decadence Spain had then fallen is well known to any

reader of modern history, and the history of modern Europe contains no

more terrible lesson. The Austrian dynasty, insatiable and jealous, had

sought to impose at once upon Spain, Europe, and the world, her

political and religious despotism. Charles V. had confiscated Spanish

liberties and conquered the Commons. Philip II., his son, constituting

himself the representative of Catholicism, had persecuted on all sides,

whether by open violence or intrigue, by the aid of corruption or

torture, the new principle of Protestantism. He had failed in every

quarter. The sanguinary executions of the Duke of Alva had been answered

by the creation of a new free State--Protestant and Republican Holland.

With the _Invincible Armada_ was engulfed the last menace of the Spanish

navy, which had been answered by the triumph of Protestant England under

the glorious reign of Elizabeth. The Spanish nation itself had

conspired, it must be confessed, to that decadence. It had shown no

reaction either against the enervating despotism of royalty, or even the

nature of the climate and soil, unequal and excessive in every way. The

epoch of heroic deeds once elapsed upon the glowing arena of the Middle

Ages, the Spanish people had despised labour, commerce, and industry.

The soil, neglected, had returned to its primitive sterility, and almost

entire provinces had become solitary deserts. Indolence and poverty are

evil counsellors. The Spanish people, the nation of the Cid, had

transformed her noble and fervent religion of the Middle Ages into a

degrading, and too often cruel superstition. It was unhappily the

popular sentiment of which Philip III. was the exponent when he expelled

the Moors in 1603, thus depriving Spain--poor and already

depopulated--of one hundred thousand rich and industrious families; and

it was national opinion also which had accepted and maintained the

domination of the monks and the hateful empire of the Inquisition.

France, on the contrary, had proceeded rapidly along the path of an

admirable progress. After having put an end to the sanguinary period of

the religious wars, after having repressed the formidable ambition of

the House of Austria, she had proclaimed the principles of tolerance and

justice, destined to become common to all modern communities, and she

had afforded the example of a centralisation which it was thought would

prove an element of prosperity and power. Would the establishment of

such a centralisation consort with the native energy of Spain, which

the peculiar genius of her great provinces still retained? Was it

necessary, in order to rouse that generous country from its languor,

merely to appeal to its recollections of the past, to the sentiment of

its dignity, to what remained of its antique virtues, or was it indeed

necessary to inoculate it with an infusion of some better blood?

Finally, had it not become a question whether Spain should be governed

for itself, or rather as an annexation of France, by considering it as a

simple instrument of the policy of Louis XIV.

Such were the grave questions which the accession of Philip V. had

raised. Louis XIV. had solved them in the sense most favourable to his

ambition, and if he recommended his grandson not to surround himself

with Frenchmen and to respect the national feeling, it was only to bend

the more gently the genius of Spain to his own designs. The

correspondence of Madame de Maintenon--eloquent echoes from Marly and

Versailles--openly reveals that policy. No wonder that it should do so.

The interests involved in the preservation of the balance of power in

Europe were not those which affected the great King: those of the

cabinet of Versailles, he considered ought to be the sole rule, not only

for France, but for Europe entire. So thought everybody also who

surrounded the pompous Louis. Those even who pretended to hold

themselves aloof from his moral domination--the Duke de Beauvilliers,

the Duke de Chevreuse, and the Archbishop of Cambrai--divided their

hopes between the Duke of Burgundy and the new King of Spain, the

brother of their well-beloved disciple; and, surrounding Philip V. with

creatures of their own, would not admit that they could govern otherwise

than by Frenchmen and French ideas. Even for that party which arrogated

to itself the title of "honest folks," animated by noble sentiments and

generous illusions, it was difficult sufficiently to enlarge the narrow

patriotism of the time, and to admit within it a sympathetic alliance

with the ideas of any foreign nationality.

Madame des Ursins was less exclusively and more truly devoted to Spain,

without failing in her devotion to France. She was a Frenchwoman at

Madrid in sustaining the alliance between the two countries in view of

their common interests, and in attacking by reforms the deep-seated

abuses which had prepared the complete ruin of Spain; she was so

especially likewise in waging a determined fight against an institution

the most repugnant to the character and intelligence of France--the

Inquisition. But she became Spanish also when needful, whether she had

to humour warily the national susceptibilities, or to confide the

principal posts to Spaniards rather than to Frenchmen, or, finally,

whether in 1709, when the guardianship of Philip V. had become a very

heavy burden to the declining Louis, she manifested her indignation at

the very idea, too readily accepted at Versailles, of abandoning Spain,

and was stubbornly resolved, on her own part, to struggle by the side of

Louis XIV.'s grandson to the last extremity.

The whole period which extends up to the moment of her first disgrace

was solely employed by her in establishing her power by masking it. She

still remained without a very precise mission; the indirect

encouragement of Torcy and Madame de Maintenon, it is true, soon came to

sustain her, and her entire study centered in meriting at their hands,

and especially at those of Louis XIV., a more effective confidence.

She had first to make herself acceptable to the Queen of Spain.

Marie-Louise of Savoy, whom her _Camerara-mayor_ met for the first time

on board her galley in the harbour of Villefranche, at the moment when

the tearful eyes of the young princess were casting a last glance at the

lovely Italian land, was that admirable queen whose life in default of

mental courage became worn out by the corroding of adversity, and whose

popular name has remained as a symbol in Spain of every royal and

domestic virtue. Not quite fourteen at the period of that meeting, the

princess was already as tall as the Duchess of Burgundy, whose perfect

shape she also possessed, with a more regular cast of features and an

incomparable charm in her graceful and affable manners. Smiling through

her tears, and in the midst of her grief ever displaying gentleness

blended with majesty, she played the queen on all occasions in a

marvellous way for one so youthful, that everybody who had the honour of

approaching her during the journey was struck with astonishment.

Marie-Louise was a gentle and affectionate girl, of an intelligence and

will in advance of her years, and which happily did not injure her

natural gracefulness. For this young creature, for this child, suddenly

become a wife and a queen, the presence of Madame des Ursins, still

handsome even at sixty-six, sprightly and as skilful as she was eager to

please, was the sole refuge beside the indolent love of a boy-king of

eighteen, who gave her no protection. These two women, whom nature had

created so dissimilar, were about to be united for ever in one common

destiny. The young Queen appeared to be immediately struck with the

value of the support which a mind so supple and vigorous offered her,

and when the departure of her Piedmontese waiting-maids had torn from

the poor girl-queen the last trace of family and country, she clung to

her grand _camerara_ as the ivy to the tree which supports it. On the

other hand, Madame des Ursins did not fail to hold herself out as

representing the respected authority of Louis XIV. and Madame de

Maintenon; on the other, she knew well how to initiate herself, by means

of the domestic duties, of which she designedly exaggerated the

importance, into the innermost prejudices of the royal wife. She made

herself useful to Marie-Louise, became indispensable amidst an

intercourse so privileged and private; at the same time she afforded

pleasure in so doing, and that proved during the whole period of her

sojourn in Spain the most solid foundation of her favour and power.

Through the Queen the _camerara-mayor_ was certain of governing the

King. Proportionately as the absolute monarchy, in spite of the severest

warnings, set up pretensions even more and more excessive and insensate,

it became also more manifest that its old traditions had rendered the

princes degenerate, and that the blood was equally menaced with

impoverishment in the family of Louis XIV. as in that of Charles V. The

new King of Spain was deficient in moral force and determination. He had

generous proclivities, without the least doubt. He was gloriously born,

as the phrase then ran. Like all his race, he showed bravery on the

field of battle; but energetic persistence in long-continued designs

firmly conceived, he was ever wanting in. Wearied to excess by the

weight of a crown, he ended by resigning its functions; compelled to

resume them, he succumbed beneath their weight, conceived scruples

touching the legitimacy of his royalty, and sunk into a crazy

melancholy, which degenerated later into downright insanity.[20]

[20] The singing of Farinelli had at first the effect of charming

away his dark moods, but he speedily gave way to such hallucinations

that he quite neglected his personal appearance, pretended to go

fishing in the middle of the night, and to mount the horses which

figured on the tapestry of his chamber.

The Princess des Ursins in directing her steps towards Villefranche, the

little Piedmontese port, which had been fixed upon as the place of

Marie-Louise's embarkation, had merely wished to present herself to the

Queen, her mistress, at the moment when the latter would be ready to

enter her galley and set sail for Spain. By that means, she would avoid

the necessity of putting all the royal train in mourning. For, as she

had already suggested with remarkable foresight to the Maréchale de

Noailles--the Court of Turin was then in mourning, and there would have

been a necessity to conform to the French custom, followed by the Dukes

of Savoy: on the contrary, by stopping at Villefranche and meeting the

Queen at the moment of her embarkation, she would merely have to observe

the usage of Spain, which only enjoined mourning upon the master and

mistress of a house.

Authorised to do what seemed fit to her on that score, she had awaited

therefore the arrival of the young princess at Villefranche, and with so

much the more satisfaction, that at Turin she would have been exposed to

a thousand annoyances. There she would have encountered the Princess de

Carignan--the great lady who had taken care of her niece, Marie-Louise

of Savoy, and like many other Piedmontese ladies, she wished very much

to follow her into Spain, and perhaps remain there. There were many

little projects, it appears, formed at Turin with the view of governing

the young Queen.[21] For a long while it was thought that they would be

realised, because the report ran that the Princess de Carignan would in

fact accompany her niece to Madrid. But Louis XIV., foreseeing that

source of embarrassment, had given an order to dismiss all the

Piedmontese ladies at the frontier, so soon as the Queen should meet her

Spanish household. Those ladies were aware of this; but their discontent

was only the greater, and it was much to be feared lest if Madame des

Ursins should herself repair to Turin, to present herself to the young

Queen, she might be exposed to some insult on their part. Who could tell

whether, at that court, before the departure of Marie-Louise had removed

all hope, her "position might not be menaced"? In that, then, there

arose an additional motive, and the principal one, to stop at

Villefranche, in order not to see the Queen before the moment of

embarking with her, and of entering immediately and irrevocably upon the

exercise of her duties.

[21] Memoirs of Louville, tom. i., and those of De Noailles, tom.

ii., pp. 164, 165.

When Marie-Louise arrived there in the month of October, 1701, the

anchor of her galley was instantly weighed and sail set for Nice, where

a last farewell was taken of Piedmont and the soil of Italy; and next,

her foot touched the French shore to make slight halts at Toulon, at

Marseilles, and at Montpellier, and despatch thence, by way of thanks

for the splendid fêtes given by the local authorities, a salvo of homage

to the Great King at Versailles. Madame des Ursins was seated in the

royal litter, at the Queen's side, and everywhere had her share of the

honours rendered to that princess in the various cities of France and

Italy. At length the Spanish frontier was reached, and there the

Piedmontese ladies, to the great regret of Marie-Louise and their own,

were compelled to stop and retrace their steps to Turin. The Spanish

dames, appointed by Philip V., replaced them. The young Queen thereupon

lost much of her characteristic amenity, and Madame des Ursins gained

nothing on the score of benevolence of intention; but the jealousy of

the Spanish ladies was less formidable to her.

The marriage by procuration had been performed at Turin. The definitive

espousals, it was settled, should be accomplished at Figuieras, on

Spanish soil, in order that Marie-Louise might not enter into the

country, where she was destined to reign, save with the irrevocable

titles of wife and queen. Thither was to come, on an appointed day, King

Philip V. He did not keep his bride waiting for him, for, impatient to

behold her to whom, by procuration, he had already given his hand, and

whose charms had been highly extolled to him, he passed beyond the place

fixed upon for the official reception, and went forwards disguised,

without pomp or noise, to meet her. He was followed by a very small

number of cavaliers, and so soon as he perceived the queen's retinue

approaching the town of Hostalnovo, he quitted his attendants, and

"pricked forward like a courier" towards the royal litter. Desirous of

preserving his incognito, he presented himself as a king's messenger,

sent to get the earliest tidings of the Queen, and he addressed himself

in Spanish to the Princess des Ursins, to receive the information which

he asserted he was ordered to obtain. The Queen immediately guessed that

the messenger was no other than the King himself. She was, therefore,

anxious to answer him herself, and so their conversation commenced,

touching her health and that of King Philip V., the incidents of her

journey, and it was continued for about a quarter of an hour. For some

time the Queen pretended not to recognise him; but, at last, her emotion

getting the better of her, she broke through the assumed incognito in

which the King had shrouded himself, and was anxious to alight from her

litter. Philip, without further revealing himself, stayed her with his

hand. Whereupon, she grasped hold instantly of that royal hand, which by

an attention, divined by her heart, was rendered so dear to her; "she

took it in both of her own, kissed it, and held it for some moments,

after which the king rode off to rejoin his suite, and returned

satisfied to Figuieras."[22]

[22] MS. Hist. de l'élévation de Philip V., p. 372.

There was celebrated the marriage of Philip V. with Marie-Louise of

Savoy. But oh, unforeseen mischance! Several days were destined to

elapse ere he could really possess her the sight of whom had only had

the effect of redoubling the ardour of his desires. His happiness was

retarded by an incident of a very extraordinary nature, one which caused

him personally much unpleasantness, and moreover, gave his young bride a

bad impression of the character of a nation she was about to rule over.

For the supper, which was prepared for her after the marriage ceremony,

the viands had been cooked partly in the Spanish, partly in the French

fashion, because at Turin the art of the celebrated _Chef_ Vatel had

been adopted. But the Spanish ladies whose duty it was, under the

direction of Madame des Ursins, to serve the dishes, did not expect such

a strange commencement of their functions. All their national

susceptibilities were aroused at the sight, and determined to wean

abruptly their new Queen from the customs of her own country, and to

impose upon her, from the moment of her very first repast, the diet of

Spain, they did not hesitate to upset all the French dishes, without a

single exception, in order to serve up nothing but Spanish cookery. The

King said nothing; and the Princess des Ursins, notwithstanding her

stupefaction and secret wrath, was unwilling to commence her career in

Spain by scenes of reproach and severity. The Queen also, whose natural

vivacity and tender age could not be expected to observe the same

restraint, had, nevertheless, sufficient control over herself at first

to keep silence. But when she found herself with the King and Madame des

Ursins in the apartment allotted to their privacy, her displeasure burst

forth, and with so much the greater force that it had been so long

restrained and that no foreign eye hindered its manifestation. She shed

tears plentifully, sobbed, regretted the absence of her Piedmontese

ladies, waxed indignant at the audacity and rudeness of the Spanish

dames, and even declared that she would proceed no further, but would

return to Piedmont. Night came on, the king left her to undress, and

waited to be summoned to his bride's apartment; but the young Queen,

"_entêtée, comme une enfant qu'elle était_," says Saint Simon, "for she

was scarcely fourteen," appeared disposed to attribute to the King

himself, the rude conduct of his subjects; and in spite of all reasoning

on the subject, and the remonstrances of Madame des Ursins, replied that

she would sleep alone and go back as quickly as possible to Turin. It

may easily be guessed how untoward and disagreeable such an affair

proved to Philip V.; he was greatly discomfited by it, and when the

second night came, as the Queen had not recovered her good humour, it

was he, who acting upon the advice of the Duke of Medina Sidonia and

Count San Estevan de Gormas, anticipated a fresh refusal, by causing her

to be told that he would not now share her couch. That spontaneous

determination was adroit, and produced its effect. Marie-Louise was

exceedingly piqued at it in the depth of her girlish _amour-propre_, and

ended by making an honourable _amende_ to the King, blaming and

condemning her own childishness. She promised to conduct herself for the

future like a woman and a queen, and on the arrival of the third night,

the nuptial bed at length reunited the hitherto dissevered husband and

wife. The next day they left Figuieras, touched at Barcelona, and thence

hastened on to Madrid, wherein they made their triumphal entry by the

Alcala Gate, towards the end of October, 1701, amidst a great concourse

of nobles and populace. There also the Princess des Ursins was installed

definitively in her functions of _camerara-mayor_. These she was

destined to fulfil during a period of thirteen years, from 1701 to 1714,

and by favour of that influential position, to exercise a virtual

sovereignty, the acts of which it will now be our task to duly

appreciate.

Political Women, Vol. 2 · 第 4 / 10 章