Marriage of Monsieur, the King's Brother.--His Hope of Mounting a
Throne.--His High-heeled Shoes.--His Dead Child.--Saint Denis.
Monsieur would seem to have been created in order to set off his brother,
the King, and to give him the advantage of such relief. He is small in
stature and in character, being ceaselessly busied about trifles,
details, nothings. To his toilet and his mirror, he devotes far more
time than a pretty woman; he covers himself with scents, with laces, with
diamonds.
He is passionately fond of fetes, large assemblies, and spectacular
displays. It was in order to figure as the hero of some such
entertainment that he suddenly resolved to get married.
Mademoiselle--the Grande Mademoiselle--Mademoiselle d'Eu, Mademoiselle de
Dombes, Mademoiselle de Montpensier, Mademoiselle de Saint-Fargeau,
Mademoiselle de la Roche-sur-Yon, Mademoiselle d'Orleans--had come into
the world twelve or thirteen years before he had, and they could not
abide each other. Despite such trifling differences, however, he
proposed marriage to her. The princess, than whom no one more determined
exists, answered, "You ought to have some respect for me; I refused two
crowned husbands the very day you were born."
So the Prince begged the Queen of England to give him her charming
daughter Henrietta, who, having come to France during her unfortunate
father's captivity, had been educated in Paris.
The Princess possessed an admirable admixture of grace and beauty, wit
being allied to great affability and good-nature; to all these natural
gifts she added a capacity and intelligence such as one might desire
sovereigns to possess. Her coquetry was mere amiability; of that I am
convinced. Being naturally vain, the Prince, her husband, made great use
at first of his consort's royal coat-of-arms. It was displayed on his
equipages and stamped all over his furniture.
"Do you know, madame," quoth he gallantly, one day, "what made me
absolutely desire to marry you? It was because you are a daughter and a
sister of the Kings of England. In your country women succeed to the
throne, and if Charles the Second and my cousin York were to die without
children (which is very likely), you would be Queen and I should be
King."
"Oh, Sire, how wrong of you to imagine such a thing!" replied his wife;
"it brings tears to my eyes. I love my brothers more than I do myself. I
trust that they may have issue, as they desire, and that I may not have
to go back and live with those cruel English who slew my father-in-law."
The Prince sought to persuade her that a sceptre and a crown are always
nice things to have. "Yes," replied Henrietta slyly, "but one must know
how to wear them."
Soon after this, he again talked of his expectations, saying every
minute, "If ever I am King, I shall do so; if ever I am King, I shall
order this; if ever I am King," etc., etc.
"Let us hope, my good friend," replied the Princess, "that you won't be
King in England, where your gewgaws would make people call out after you;
nor yet in France, where they would think you too little, after the
King."
At this last snub, Monsieur was much mortified. The very next day he
summoned his old bootmaker, Lambertin, and ordered him to put extra heels
two inches high to his shoes. Madame having told this piece of childish
folly to the King, he was greatly amused, and with a view to perplex his
brother, he had his own shoe-heels heightened, so that, beside his
Majesty, Monsieur still looked quite a little man.
The Princess gave premature birth to a child that was scarcely
recognisable; it had been dead in its mother's womb for at least ten
days, so the doctors averred. Monsieur le Duc d'Orleans, however,
insisted upon having this species of monstrosity baptised.
My sister, De Thianges, who is raillery personified, seeing how
embarrassed was the cure of Saint Cloud by the Prince's repeated requests
for baptism, gravely said to the cleric in an irresistibly comic fashion,
"Do you know, sir, that your refusal is contrary to all good sense and
good breeding, and that to infants of such quality baptism is never
denied?"
When this species of miscarriage had to be buried, as there was urgent
need to get rid of it, Monsieur uttered loud cries, and said that he had
written to his brother so that there might be a grand funeral service at
Saint Denis.
Of so absurd a proposal as this no notice was taken, which served to
amaze Monsieur for one whole month.