of business. As a matter of fact he did none, because, Parliament being
dissolved indefinitely, there was none. Such routine work as there was
Sunderland and the Duchess did between them. The only business that the
English King was called upon to transact was the signing of the receipt
for his French subsidy every quarter, which he managed to get paid in
advance. The extraordinary indifference he manifested in his deportment
accounts entirely for the Duchess of Portsmouth's continued favour. She
had long ceased to be his mistress in anything but name, yet never was
her position so secure. She had become one of the habits to which
Charles had enslaved himself. The dream of her life had been to appear
at Versailles for a brief moment and have the exquisite satisfaction of
sitting on her _tabouret_, and compelling the proud, contemptuous ladies
of the French Court to treat her as their equal. And it was now that,
absolutely confident of her place, she dared to run the risk of losing
it by visiting France. She, however, took the precaution to draw her
quarter's pension in advance. Her reception at the Court of France was
triumphal. "There has never been a parallel for the treatment she meets
with," says Saint-Simon. "When, on a high holiday, she went to visit the
Capucines in the Rue St. Honoré, the poor monks, who were told
beforehand of her intention, came out processionally to receive her,
with cross, holy-water, and incense. They received her just as if she
had been the Queen, which threw her all in a heap, as she did not expect
so much honour." Perhaps it was at this time that "her portrait as the
Madonna with her son as the Child was painted for a rich convent in
France, and used as an altar-piece."
Her Grace's ostensible reason for visiting her native country had been
to take the waters of Bourbon, and on completing her cure she gave
herself the pleasure of visiting Aubigny. So pleased was she with her
feudal castle, feudal rights, and feudal acres that she could have
received the worst news from England with but little genuine distress.
Her presence, however, was required at Whitehall as much by Charles as
Louis, and after a four months' holiday she returned to England. Her
visit was not without profit. Among the items of private business she
transacted during her absence were the investing of her English fortune
in French securities; the wheedling of an abbey out of Louis for one of
her aunts who was a nun; and her recognition of the Duke of York's right
to the Succession, whereby she made a friend of James, whose star was
once more in the ascendant.
The splendour of her social success in France was, on her return to
Whitehall, reflected in the cordiality with which she was welcomed by
the great English peeresses who had formerly snubbed her. Far from
losing ground during her absence, she had gained it if possible. The
English Court regarded her quite as one of the royal family. She
received the foreign envoys even before they presented their credentials
to the King. For speaking slightingly of her the Dutch Ambassador was
obliged to apologise in person; while for the same reason she complained
to Queen Catherine of one of her maids of honour, who was punished for
her insolence by the loss of a quarter's salary. She effaced Charles's
unfortunate consort more completely even than had the Duchess of
Cleveland. In justice to her, however, it must be confessed that her
conduct to Catherine was nearly always respectful. From the time of the
Popish Plot to the end of the reign, nothing of any importance
transpired without her initiative or sanction. When Louis decided that
it was time to marry the Princess Anne, the Duchess of Portsmouth
provided the necessary husband in Prince George of Denmark. It is true
she had many enemies, notably the Duchess of York, who despised her, but
none of them dared offend her. She was virtually the proconsul whom
Louis XIV. had appointed to govern England, which he had reduced to a
"province of France."
[Illustration: PHILIPPE DE VENDÔME, GRAND PRIEUR DE FRANCE.
_From an old print in the British Museum._]
So complete was her power that her life dragged monotonously till there
came one to colour it in the person of Philippe de Vendôme, Grand
Prieur de France. This man was the grandson of Henri IV. and the
Charmante Gabrielle, and his mother was Mazarin's eldest niece, Laure
Mancini, the only one about whom there was never any scandal, and who
had died shortly after his birth. He was, consequently, a nephew of the
Duchesse de Mazarin. He was also the younger brother of the famous Duc
de Vendôme of whom Saint-Simon has said so many infamous things. But
perhaps his special attraction in the eyes of the Duchess of Portsmouth
was that he was the nephew of the Duc de Beaufort, her first lover, and
the man who had given her her first start in life. He had been banished
from France, for what reason is not clear. Perhaps it was for the
cowardice he had displayed in action, for he was an arrant coward and
braggart. "He slipped out of a duel," says Forneron, "about the Duchesse
de Ludre with M. de Vivonne by riding off to the country and out of the
army on the eve of the battle in which Turenne was killed." Be this as
it may, he had been obliged to quit France. Like most exiles in the
seventeenth century, his personal knowledge of the various countries of
Europe was extensive and intimate--especially of the "night-life" of
Courts and capitals. Among his adventures was the partnership,
terminable without notice, that he formed at Rome with his cousin, the
Duchesse de Mazarin's daughter, the Marquise de Richelieu, "a wanderer
like himself." If one may believe Saint-Simon, whose portraits of the
Vendôme brothers are of the kind that one is inclined to consign to the
flames with the tongs, the Grand Prieur "never went to bed sober during
thirty years, but was always carried there dead drunk; was a liar, a
swindler, and a thief; a rogue to the marrow of his bones, rotted with
vile diseases, the most contemptible and yet most dangerous fellow in
the world."
Saint-Simon made these agreeable remarks about the Grand Prieur many
years after his visit to England. At the time the Duchess of Portsmouth
"retained him in London with a tenderness so undisguised as to excite
the raillery of the whole Court," he was a handsome and attractive rake
of twenty-eight. At first mere love of notoriety made him pay his
attentions to the Duchess, who, from some motive best known to herself,
appeared to be flattered by them, whereupon King Charles did the Grand
Prieur the honour to be jealous of him. As a scandal was the last thing
the prematurely worn-out epicurean Charles wished, he dared not show his
jealousy openly by ordering Vendôme out of the country. He preferred to
apply to Barillon to help him get rid of his odious rival. Barillon, at
once alarmed at the consequences the King's jealousy might have upon the
Duchess of Portsmouth's position, expostulated with the Grand Prieur.
But the grandson of Henri IV. and the charming Gabrielle, recognising
from Charles's jealousy and Barillon's anxiety to what profit to himself
he could put certain letters her Grace had had the imprudence to write
him, refused to quit Whitehall. Tableau: Charles in a white-hot rage
(very, very rare with him); the Duchess of Portsmouth in terror;
Barillon in a state of stupefaction. Louis, however, helped her Grace
out of her scrape by paying the blackmailing Grand Prieur his price,
which was the privilege to return to France.
There is no proof whatever that the Duchess was guilty in this affair of
anything more serious than the indiscretion of confiding to paper the
fascination her dashing countryman had for her. And though her name was
coupled wantonly with the Duke of Monmouth, Sunderland, and her
favourite minister Danby, it is perhaps safe to say that the Duchess of
Portsmouth was the most faithful to Charles of all his mistresses.
Certainly, in spite of the _ennui_ the security of her power might have
induced, she never again ran the risk of dissipating it by flirtations
with unprincipled Grand Prieurs.
_Ennui_, however, was not an emotion that even a Duchess of Portsmouth,
sated with power, could long experience at such a Court as Whitehall.
Shortly after her Vendôme fright came the Rye House Plot. This plot
within a plot had for its object the guaranteeing of the Protestant
Succession. It was really the backwash of the Popish Plot, and was the
last vain effort of Shaftesbury to regain power by compelling Charles to
summon a Parliament, in which he and his party intended by a _coup
d'état_ to humble or, if necessary, to banish the dynasty. By some
fatality a group of fanatical Protestants were at the same time
independently conspiring to bring about Shaftesbury's end by murdering
both Charles and the Duke of York. One of their number proved a traitor.
Charles was warned and the assassins captured. The Court, which was
perfectly aware of the political aspirations of Shaftesbury and his
party, unscrupulously but adroitly seized the opportunity to implicate
the principal members of the Protestant or Whig party in the
Assassination Plot of which they were wholly ignorant. Never was a
triumph more remorseless and complete. With Shaftesbury fled and the
others beheaded, the Catholics more than got their revenge for what they
had suffered at the time of the Popish Plot. There was no longer any
question but that the Duke of York would succeed his brother and France
continue to direct the policy of England. Louis XIV. promptly seized
Luxemburg. The Grand Siècle was now at its zenith.
The French king, however, was not destined to drink deep of the wine of
success; the cup he had so craftily fashioned was to be dashed from his
lips by William of Orange, and his fair vineyard utterly devastated by
the Duke of Marlborough. But who now would have thought, while under a
cloudless sky Louis pressed the juice from his grapes, that at
fifty-five Charles II.'s race was run? Or that in three short years
"France's Poland" would have for ever freed herself from the Sun King?
Certainly not the Duchess of Portsmouth, when one Sunday night in
February, 1685, Death entered the Grand Gallery at Whitehall, and in a
twinkling confounded all the deep and cunning intrigues of the subtlest
brains in Europe.
Everybody remembers the justly celebrated passage in which Macaulay has
described the voluptuous scene Whitehall presented on that fatal night.
What a picture in the Gallery of History it is, this English tableau of
the literary Delaroche! What wealth of colour and detail! Fancy that
great gallery of Whitehall, "an admirable relic of the magnificence of
the Tudors, crowded with revellers and gamblers," in which Charles sat
"chatting and toying" with the Duchesses of Cleveland, Mazarin, and
Portsmouth, and listening to the clink of "gold heaped in mountains" at
the basset-table while the Mazarin's "French page, a handsome boy, whose
vocal performances were the delight of Whitehall, warbled some amorous
verses." Then picture the consternation of all those revellers and
gamblers in that splendid corridor when the King, suddenly stricken with
apoplexy, tumbles into the arms of a courtier standing near! For lack of
a lancet they opened his vein with a penknife; a hot warming-pan is
placed on his head. "A loathesome volatile salt, extracted from human
skulls, was forced into his mouth. He recovered his senses; but was
evidently in a situation of extreme danger." For a week he lingers,
begging the people who crowd his death-room pardon for the
unconscionable time he takes in dying; polite, witty, good-natured to
the end, and not forgetting to recommend his mistresses to the care of
his successor!
No king that we can recall has ever died in such pomp of flippancy as
Charles II. Louis XV. dismissing du Barry and making his _amende
honorable_ to God; the Regent d'Orléans dropping dead in the arms of the
Duchesse de Falaris; and Louis XIV. solemnly setting out for the
Plutonian kingdom with all the etiquette of Versailles, are historic
death-scenes that strike the imagination. But to us they all seem to
pale beside the studied, godless levity of Charles's. It was
characteristic of the era which died with him, for in reality the
death-bed of Charles II. was likewise that of the Restoration.
And how fared the Duchess of Portsmouth in this catastrophe? "I found
her," wrote Barillon to Louis, "in great grief. But instead of bemoaning
her own sad and altered position she took me into a little room and
said, 'Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, I am now going to tell you a secret,
although its public revelation would cost me my head. The King of
England is at the bottom of his heart a Catholic, and there he is,
surrounded with Protestant Bishops! There is nobody to tell him of his
state or speak to him of God. I cannot decently enter his room. Besides,
the Queen is now there constantly.'" (Poor little Catherine, who went
into convulsions and sent to beg his pardon, at which Charles exclaimed,
"Alas, poor lady! She beg my pardon! I beg hers with all my heart.")
"The Duke of York is too busy with his own affairs to trouble himself
about the King's conscience. Go and tell him that I have conjured you to
warn him that the end is near, and that it is his duty to save without
loss of time his brother's soul."
This forethought of the Duchess of Portsmouth, who was religious _au
fond_ like all Bretons, for the salvation of Charles's soul disarms
criticism. To scold her for not conforming to our twentieth-century code
of morals is preposterous in its presumption. And as we are quite unable
to satisfy ourselves as to the exact standard of the morals of her own
day, we had better not bother about her morals at all.
An hour after Charles's death King James paid her a visit of condolence.
James's object, no doubt, was to keep well with Louis through her. But
his reign was short and stormy, and the Duchess of Portsmouth was too
clever not to foresee the disaster of 1688. After settling her affairs
in England she returned to France. But her interests obliged her to be
ever in close relations with the former country, which in the wars waged
between the two for nearly twenty-five years exposed her to many
humiliating suspicions. On one occasion Louis threatened to exile her;
on another William of Orange refused to allow her to land in England.
Her worthless son ran away from her and compromised her politically. Her
wealth took to itself wings and flew away. In the fire that destroyed
the Palace of Whitehall she lost all her precious furniture. For years
she was pursued by creditors and haunted by bailiffs. But Louis was
grateful for her past services and protected her from the law as far as
he could. He gave her a pension to make up for the loss of her English
one, and this the Regent doubled. She who had had countless thousands a
year was reduced to a paltry eight hundred. But she still had her
titles, and till old age overtook her she frequently made use of her
_right_ to sit on a _tabouret_ at Versailles, and as Duchess of
Portsmouth and ex-mistress of Charles II. swelled the ranks of the
Jacobites at St. Germain, much to the disgust of Queen Mary. The last
years of her life were passed at Aubigny in a strange mixture of
miserliness and religious devotion, completely forgotten by the world in
which she had played so great a part.
Fifty years after the death of Charles she died in the full possession
of her faculties at the age of eighty-five, having seen all she had
toiled for undone, the House of Stuart driven from England and even from
its refuge in France. She had outlived Louis and all his splendour and
all her contemporaries. It was time for this relic of a crumbling
despotism to depart. The mills of God had begun to grind. Another fifty
years and the Revolution was to sweep the _ancien régime_ away for
ever.
Index
A
Arlington, Earl of, 114, 285
" Countess of, 285, 286
Arran, Earl of, 195
Aubigny, Duchesse d' (Duchess of Portsmouth), 287, 295, 299
Austria, Anne of, 20, 226, 227, 228, 234, 248
B
Banier, Baron, 52
Barillon, 303-305, 307-309, 314, 318
Barkeley, Sir Charles, 72
Beaufort, Duc de, 273, 274, 313
Bellefonds, Maréchal de, 278
Berni, Marquis de, 168-170
Berwick, Duke of, 136, 160, 166, 173, 174, 190
Berwick, Duchess of, _see_ La Belle Nanette
Blague, Miss, 149, 151, 153, 154
Blantyre, Lord, 135
Boileau, 233
Bossuet, 260, 263, 264, 269
Bouillon, Duchesse de, 20, 57
Braganza, Catherine of, 66, 68, 69, 84, 115, 128, 131, 149, 283, 318
Bridges, Mrs. (Countess of Shrewsbury), 214
Brisacier, Marquis de, 150, 153, 154
Brounker, 178, 179
Buckingham, Duke of, 75, 89, 112, 116, 120, 154, 202, 203, 205-214,
283, 297
Buckingham, Duchess of, 205
Burnet, Bishop, 176, 283
Butler (author of "Hudibras"), 89
C
Cardigan, Earl of, 194, 215
Castlemaine, Earl of, 63, 66, 67, 100
Castlemaine, Lady, _see_ Cleveland, Duchess of
Charles II., 20, 40, 41, 45, 64, 68, 74, 80-82, 110, 115, 125-129,
166, 211, 224, 228, 268, 278-280, 305, 314, 317
Chesterfield, Earl of, 62, 63, 66
Chiffinch, 46, 76
Churchill, Arabella, 166
" John, _see_ Marlborough, Duke of
Clarendon, Earl of, 66, 68, 93, 129
Cleveland, Duchess of, 59-105, 109, 117, 127, 179, 284, 301
Cleveland, Goodman, 99
Colbert, 24, 29, 271
" de Croissy, 295, 296
Colonna, Constable, 21, 32, 34, 35
" Madame la Connétable, 21, 32, 34, 35, 37
Cooper, Ashley, _see_ Shaftesbury, Earl of
Cornbury, Lord, 129
Courcelles, Marquise de, 29-31, 39
Courtin, 42, 43, 45, 168-170, 298, 300, 302
Cromwell, 172, 222
D
Dalkieth, Lady, 221
Danby, 315
Dangeau, Marquis de, 161
Davis, Moll, 76
Deleau, Mrs., 102
de Retz, Cardinal, 223
Digby, Francis, 120
Dillon, Viscountess, 185
Dryden, 120, 283
E
Effiat, 267, 268, 270
Elboeuf, Mesdemoiselles d', 290
Evelyn, 182, 212, 271, 293
F
Falmouth, Lord, 141
Feilding, Handsome, 100-103
Fontenelle, 147
Forneron, 40, 44, 57, 286, 302, 305, 313
G
Gloucester, Duke of, 231
Goodman, 76
Grafton, Duke of, 301
Gramont, Chevalier and Comte de, 96, 121-123, 144, 152, 195, 257
Gramont, Comtesse de, 137-162, 174, 257
Gramont, Maréchal de, 144, 161, 241, 260
Grand Prieur, _see_ Vendôme, Philippe de
Grignan, Madame de, 36
Guiche, Comte de, 148, 161, 241-254
Guise, Duchesse de, 290
Gwynn, Nell, 96, 200, 292, 299, 306
H
Hall, Jacob, 75
Hamilton, Count Anthony, 95, 111, 114, 115, 117, 118, 141, 149,
157-160, 167, 180, 199, 257
Hamilton, George, 120, 122, 181
" James, 72
" La Belle, _see_ Gramont, Comtesse de
Hamilton, Lady, _see_ Tyrconnel, Duchess of
Hamilton, Sir George, 138
Hart, 75
Henrietta Maria, 106, 108, 222, 226, 231, 249, 269
Howard, Thomas, 196
Hyde, Ann, _see_ York, Duchess of
J
James II., 65, 139, 164-166, 171, 172, 183, 184, 186, 188-190, 290,
306, 319
Jameson, Mrs., 133, 147, 185, 304
Jennings (Lovely), Frances, _see_ Tyrconnel, Duchess of
Jennings, Mrs., 164
Jennings, Sarah, _see_ Marlborough, Duchess of
Jermyn, 80, 81, 95, 109, 140, 176, 180, 181, 196-198
K
Kéroual, Henriette de, 275, 301
" Louise de, _see_ Portsmouth, Duchess of
Kéroual or Querouaille, Monsieur, 272
Kéroual, Sebastien de, 275
Killigrew, Harry, 199, 201-207
" Thomas, 199, 200
L
La Belle Hamilton, _see_ Gramont, Comtesse de
La Belle Nanette, 136, 160
La Belle Stuart, _see_ Richmond, Duchess of
La Fayette, Madame de, 260, 261, 263, 264
La Grande Mademoiselle, 226, 238, 259, 290
La Palatine, 267, 268
Lauzun, Duc de, 34, 188
Lee, Nat, 132
Lenclos, Ninon de, 49
Lenoncourt, Sidonie de, _see_ Courcelles, Marquise de
Lionne, 168-170
Longueville, Duchesse de, 32
Lorraine, Chevalier de, 35, 36, 238, 249, 255, 258, 266, 267, 268,
270, 278
Louis XIV., 20, 34, 37, 42, 94, 108, 145, 156, 157, 174, 182, 209,
226, 227, 239, 240, 253, 255, 257, 265, 269, 276 _et seq._
Louvois, 29
M
Macaulay, Lord, 173, 174
Madame, 221-270
Maine, Duchesse de, 160
Malicorne, 251
Mancini, Hieronima, 18
" Hortense, _see_ Mazarin, Duchesse de
Mancini, Laure, _see_ Mercoeur, Duchesse de
Mancini, Marie, _see_ Colonna, Madame la Connétable
Mancini, Olympe, _see_ Soissons, Comtesse de
Mancini, Philip, _see_ Nevers, Duc de
Manicamp, 251
Marie Louise, Queen of Spain, 270
Marie Thérèse, Queen of France, 234, 235
Marlborough, Duchess of, 164, 184, 191
Marlborough, Duke of, 78-80, 191
Mazarin, Cardinal, 18-23, 49, 58
" Duc de, 22-28, 32, 42, 44, 53, 58
Mazarin, Duchesse de, 17-58, 300
Meilleraye, Duc de la, 57
Mercoeur, Duchesse de, 19, 227, 313
Modena, Mary of, 39, 183, 291, 320
Molière, 234, 270
Monaco, Prince of, 44
" Princess of, 148, 241
Monmouth, Duke of, 72, 307, 308, 309
Monsieur, 228, 237-240, 248, 255, 257, 258, 259
Montague, 98, 261
Montalais, Mademoiselle de, 243, 244, 248
Morel, Simon, 265, 266
Morgan, Lady, 190
Morin, 51
Muskerry, Lady, 149, 151-153
" Lord, 150, 153
N
Nevers, Duc de, 19, 27, 28, 53
Newcastle, Duchess of, 153
Norfolk, Duke of, 141
O
Oates, Titus, 51, 306
Orange, William of, 56, 186, 218, 219, 307, 309, 319
Orleans, Duchess of, _see_ Madame
" Duke of, _see_ Monsieur
" Gaston d', 237, 238, 290
Ormond, Duke of, 89, 93, 94, 138, 224
P
Palmer, Mrs., _see_ Cleveland, Duchess of
Palmer, Roger, _see_ Castlemaine, Earl of
Pepys, 65, 66, 67, 70, 72, 75, 83, 85,86, 107, 111, 121, 132, 135,
198, 201
Pope, 77, 135, 213
Portsmouth, Duchess of, 271-320
Price, Miss, 150, 151, 154, 165, 175-179
R
Racine, 233
Rawlings, Giles, 197, 198
Richelieu, Marquis de, 53
" Marquise de, 53, 313
Richmond, Duchess of, 81, 82, 105-136
Richmond, Duke of, 125-132, 140
Richmond, Duke of (son of Duchess
of Portsmouth), 301
Rochester, Earl of, 177, 268
Rohan, Chevalier de, 32
Rotier, Philippe, 123, 124
Russell, Lord John, 141-143
" William, 142
Ruvigny, 41, 132, 296
S
St. Albans, Duke of, 292
St. Evremond, 47-58, 141, 146, 283
St. Réal, Abbé de, 38, 43, 44
Saint-Simon, 58, 146, 239, 240, 265, 311, 313, 314
Sault, Comte de, 275
Savoy, Duchess of, 39
" Duke of, 37, 38
" Prince Eugene of, 52, 254
Sévigné, Madame de, 53, 269, 299
Shaftesbury, Earl of, 306, 307, 309, 316
Shannon, Lady, 202
Sheldon, Archbishop, 115
Shrewsbury, Countess of, 174, 193-220
Shrewsbury, Duke of, 215-220
" Earl of, 204, 205
Sister Benedicta, 99
Soissons, Chevalier de, 52
" Comtesse de, 20, 21, 52, 252, 253, 254, 270
Spratt, Dr., 210
Stuart, Ann, _see_ La Belle Nanette
" of Blantyre, 106
" Frances Theresa, _see_ Richmond, Duchess of
Stuart, Sophia, 135
Sunderland, Earl of, 308, 309
Sussex, Countess of, 45, 66, 98
T
Talbot, Peter, 171
" Richard, _see_ Tyrconnel, Duke of
Toulongeon, Comte de, 144, 155
Tréville, 261, 262
Tyrconnel, Duchess of, 163-192
" Duke of, 170-176, 180, 183-190, 195
V
Vallière, Mademoiselle de la, 240, 245, 246
Vallot, 258, 259
Vardes, Marquis de, 247-254
Vendôme, Duc de, 19, 313
Vendôme, Philippe de, 312-315
Villars, Mrs., 102
Villiers, Barbara, _see_ Cleveland, Duchess of
Vossius, 46
W
Wadsworth, Mary, 101, 102
Wall, Mrs., 308
Walpole, 153, 191, 192
Wycherley, 77, 78
Y
York, Duchess of, 164, 166, 176, 179, 290
York, Duke of, _see_ James II.
The Gresham Press,
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED,
WOKING AND LONDON.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Simple typographical errors were corrected.
Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
Irregular page numbering made consistent.
Page 147: unbalanced quotation mark repaired with balanced single
quotation marks.
Removed illustrations' references to the pages they should face.