The King Contemplates the Conquest of Holland.--The Grand Seignior's
Embassy.--Madame de Montespan's Chance of Becoming First Lady of the
Harem.--Anxiety to Conclude Negotiations with so Passionate an
Ambassador.--Help Sent to Candia.--With Disastrous Results.--Death of the
Duc de Beaufort.--Why It Is Good to Carry About the Picture of One's
Lady-love.
Having gained possession of the Netherlands in the name of the Infanta,
his consort, the King seriously contemplated the subjugation of the
Dutch, and possibly also the invasion of these rich countries. Meanwhile,
he privately intimated as much to the princes of Europe, promising to
each of them some personal and particular advantage in exchange for a
guarantee of assistance or neutrality in this matter.
The Grand Seignior, hearing that the Pope and the Venetians were urging
our Cabinet to come to the help of Candia, lost no time in sending a
splendid embassy to Paris, to congratulate the young King upon his
conquest of Flanders, and to predict for him all success in the paths
along which ambition might lead him.
[This important island of Candia, the last powerful bulwark of
Christendom against the Turk, belonged at that time to Venice. EDITOR'S
NOTE.]
Being naturally fond of show and display, the King left nothing undone
which might give brilliance to the reception of so renowned an embassy.
The Court wore an air of such splendour and magnificence that these
Mussulmans, used though they were to Asiatic pomp, seemed surprised and
amazed at so brilliant a reception, at which nothing, indeed, had been
forgotten.
The ambassador-in-chief was a pleasant young man, tall, shapely, and
almost as good-looking as the King. This Turk had splendidly shaped
hands, and eyes that shone with extraordinary brilliance. He conceived
an ardent passion for me, a passion that went to such lengths that he
sacrificed thereto all his gravity, all his stately Ottoman demeanour.
When I passed by, he saluted me, placing his hand to his heart, stopping
to gaze at me intently, and watch me as long as possible. Being
introduced (either by chance or design) to my Paris jeweller, he seized a
gold box upon which he saw my portrait, and, giving the jeweller a
considerable sum, refused to part with the picture, however much they
begged him to do so.
One fine morning, in spite of his turban, he got into the large chapel of
the chateau during mass, and while the Court of France was adoring the
true God, Ibrahim knelt down in front of me, which made every one laugh,
including the King.
All such absurdities caused the ministers to give him the required reply
with all speed, and they were not backward in granting him a farewell
audience.
When the time came for him to go, Ibrahim burst into tears, exclaiming
that, in his country, I should be in the first rank, whereas at Saint
Germain I was only in the second; and he charged his interpreter to tell
the King of France that the unhappy Ibrahim would never get over this
visit to his Court.
The King replied, with a smile, that he had "better become a Christian,
and stay with us."
At these words the ambassador turned pale, and glancing downwards,
withdrew, forgetting to salute his Majesty.
Then he returned, and made all his bows quite nicely; nor would he quit
the capital before he had sent me his portrait, some pretty verses in
Italian, which he had caused to be composed, and besides this, a set of
amber ornaments, the most beautiful of any worn by ladies of the harem.
Despite this imposing and costly embassy, despite the ambassador's
compliment, who referred to the King as "Eldest Son of the Sun," this
same Son of the Sun despatched seven thousand picked troops to help
Venice against the Turks. To this detachment the Venetian Republic sent
fourteen vessels laden with their own soldiers, under the leadership of
our Duc de Beaufort, Grand Admiral of France, and Lieutenant-General Duc
de Navailles.
Had these troops arrived in the nick of time, they would have saved
Candia, but by a sudden accident all was lost, and after so terrible a
reverse, the Isle of Candia, wrested from the potentates of Europe and
Christendom, fell a prey to the infidels.
A pistol-shot fired at a Turk blew up several barrels of gunpowder
belonging to a large magazine captured from the enemy. Our troops,
thinking that a mine had been sprung, fled in headlong confusion, never
even caring to save their muskets. The Turks butchered them in the most
frightful manner. In this huge massacre, some of our most promising
officers perished, and the Duc de Beaufort was never found either among
the wounded or the slain.
The young Comte de Guiche, of whom I shall presently speak, had his hand
smashed, and if on his breast he had not worn a portrait of Madame,--[The
ill-fated Duchesse d'Orleans.]--the sword of a Turk would have struck him
to the heart.
The King felt sorry that he had only despatched seven thousand men
thither. But when M. de Louvois informed him that the whole detachment
had been almost annihilated, he regretted having sent so many.