morning she mounted her horse, rode ten leagues, returned, went to bed again, and read books.' Ronsard the poet, about this time, introduced a much more artificial style of compliment to the sex than that of Marot, and his royal patron. He became the head of a coterie of seven writers, all equally forced and affected in their gallantry, who called themselves the Pleiade. Some time after the epoch of the Pleiade, Pasquier the historian, Harlay the celebrated first president, Bisson, president of parliament, Joseph Scaliger, and a crowd of other writers, less distinguished for rank and talent, all exercised their poetical imagination on one subject. That subject was, however, august enough to justify so extraordinary a union, being nothing less than a flea, which had been seen by some adventurous eye on the bosom of Madeleine Desroches, during a festival at Poitiers. The pieces on this illustrious transgressor were collected by Pasquier in a volume, which was entitled 'Le Puce des grands Jours de Poitiers.' After the death of Ronsard, whom we have noticed as the chief of this style of gallantry, and who had the misfortune to be very deaf, an orator charged with his funeral oration, exclaimed,' Oh happy deaf man! thou gavest to the French, ears for the oracles of poetry!' The school in question is of a nature to have its disciples in all ages. A Mr. Le Genre, in a work entitled The Antiquities of the French Nation,' discovers the Scythians to be the ancestors of the French, from their polite behaviour to the Amazons; and the chevalier de Mere, who was one of madame de Sevigne's lovers, but of whom she says he had a chien de style,' is not less recondite in the mysteries of gallantry. He is the author of several treatises, which were said to be fine and tiresome,' as madame de Longueville observed of Chapelain's 'Pucelle d'Orleans;' and in one of these he affirms, that Alexander the Great was guilty of a breach of manners, when in addressing the queen of Persia, he called her mother; it was bringing to her recollection that she was no longer young, says the delicate chevalier, a circumstance always extremely disagreeable to the ladies!' This choice spirit is said to be the author of the phrase bonne compagnie, in its fashionable acceptation. Under the abominable Catherine of Medicis, and her miserable son, Charles IX, the manners of the higher classes, as it has been observed, were a 'medly of gallantry and fury: Italian ardour mingled itself with French licentiousness; carnage was planned in the rendezvous of love, and conspiracies were meditated in ballrooms.' The work of Brantome, containing the histories, public and private, of the political and gallant ladies of this time, is as extraordinary a production as has ever been given to the world. One of his commentators says, ' I will not speak of the second and third volumes, which concern the ladies, not wishing to condemn the memory of a gentleman whose other works render him worthy of esteem; and imputing the whole crime to the dissoluteness of the court at that period, of which more terrible histories might be given than those which he has recounted.' This last assertion is calculated to surprise the readers of Brantome; for it is not easy to conceive how the description of what is most odious in bad faith, debauchery, and corruption of every kind, can be carried further than it is by this chronicler and eye-witness. What is most of all bewildering, however, is to find seigneur Brantome, whose spirit is uncommonly caustic and shrewd, and who, in matters of politics and war, is clear sighted to a remarkable degree, losing all sobriety of expression, and lanching out in a strain of enthusiasm that would not seem to belong to his manner, when he is stimulated by what he calls the glories of these fine times! Writing his memoirs when well stricken in years, he actually subdues us into commiseration of the unhappy fate which doomed him to survive the golden age of St. Bartholomew, and left him exposed in his decline, to the evil times of Henry IV! We might almost be seduced into dropping a tear with him over the degeneration of human affairs, when he reminds us that those who live long see many changes, and compresses into a hint what is easily perceived to be the dictate of a bursting heart, full of regret and discontent. Ah!' he exclaims, these were different days from the present!' and then he works himself into an ecstacy on the velvet robes, and the ostrich feathers, and the ankles, and even the garters of the ladies of the court; and on the dances of the demoiselles, which he says were 'si piquantes et libidineuses! Catherine of Medicis is his goddess: but he admits, with reference to such actions as the massacre of St. Bartholomew, that, to be sure, these great people have a 'morality of their own, with which it is best not to meddle.' The account which he gives of Mary, queen of Scots, possesses much genuine interest. In homely language he relates the facts of this unfortunate creature's departure from France, and casts a light on the scene of sorrow, by glowing praise of her beauty and accomplishments. Brantome was one of the courtiers appointed to conduct the queen to Scotland: we follow her. in his recital, weeping and overcome, to the vessel; we see her mount its side, and received with honours by the crew, while in a state of the profoundest grief. During the whole first day of the voyage she hung over the stern, gazing on the land, which her tears and the distance rendered every instant more dim. The captain invited her to take refreshment in the cabin, but she persisted in remaining on deck, says Brantome, for France was yet in sight. When the darkness of the evening at length confounded the earth with the water, she went below sobbing loudly, as if she had foreseen the misfortunes that awaited her. Brantome is indignant against those who accused her of being concerned in the murder of her husband; she was a lady of too tender a heart, he says, to wish to do harm to mortal man; and he supports his justification of her against this crime by telling, that when, during the voyage, she heard the cries of the rowers who were beaten by the officers, she was always angry, and never failed to stop the chastisement. The French chronicler is horrified when he arrives at Leith. Ah! what a change, he exclaims, for this fair and amiable queen, from all to which she had been accustomed. She was obliged to ride on a hackney horse to Edinburgh, and wept as she looked upon the people. Posterity does not exactly participate in Brantome's idea of the degeneration that took place when Henry IV became sovereign. Under the influence of his personal character, the manners were rendered more mild, though they continued to be scarcely less licentious. Brantome had grown old; otherwise he would not have found so much cause for complaint. Corruption,' says a French author, was general, but self-degradation was not then connected with it.' A more false and mischievous distinction cannot be made, nor one more pregnant with ruin to nations and to individuals: but the distinction has always been recognized in France. In the time of Louis XIII, the style of gallantry seemed to incline again to the metaphysics and pedantry of an earlier age. Cardinal Richelieu in the intervals of decapitating the nobility, and intriguing against the queen mother, found leisure and inclination to cause theses on knotty points of love to be sustained and debated. The nature of these may be gathered from mademoiselle de Scuderi. Among others, she states the following questions, which we submit to our scientific readers of both sexes, to solve if they can:- Which is the most convincing sign of love; to conceal a passion, or to declare it; to sigh, or to shed tears?' 'Which gives most satisfaction to a lover;-to praise his mistress, or to be praised by her?' 'Which event renders most manifest the power of the god of love; a shepherdess falling in love with a king, or a king falling in love with a shepherdess?' The most celebrated authors and courtiers united in the houses of the most beautiful and fashionable women to discuss such mysteries as these, during five or six hours together; and when the point was settled, some of the poets would read specimens of their productions. These assemblies were called Bureaux d'Esprit, the most renowned of which was held at the hotel of the marchioness de Rambouillet. Here Corneille read his Polyeucte before its public appearance; and Bossuet, at the age of sixteen, was brought in, as a surprising lad, to show the ladies and gentlemen how well he could speak extemporaneously. They gave him a text, and he commenced a sermon which did not finish till after midnight. Madame de Rambouillet had the good fortune to predict that he would one day be a great orator; and Voiture, who was probably a little fatigued, observed that he had never before been at a preaching, either so early or so late. Julia D'Argennes, the daughter of the mistress of the house, was the idol of the wits who partook of her mother's hospitality. The history of 'la guirlande de Julie,' bears a distinguished place in the memoirs of the time. The finest flowers were painted on vellum, and the first authors of the day made it a duty to furnish verses for each. Corneille, more plentifully sup plied with genins than the others, contributed no less than three. We owe to the author of the Cid, la tulipe, la fleur d'orange, et Pimmortelle blanche. The regency of Anne of Austria, mother of Louis XIV, during which occurred what may be called the burlesque civil war of the Fronde, forms a most singular epoch. France, then, says one of her authors, was plunged in anarchy; but they mingled pleasantries with battles, and vaudevilles with factions. The Parisians, who were in revolt, made excursions into the country, covered with ribbons, feathers, and devices, to fight the king's troops. When they were beaten, they were welcomed by their own party with songs and calembourgs. Madame de Sevigne was in the capital when it was besieged by the court; and her relation and admirer, Bussy-Rabutin, was in the army of the besiegers: the war did not interrupt their correspondence; and, in one of his letters, he tells her, that she must expect him to take full advantage of the rights of conquest, when Paris should be carried by assault! Mademoiselle de Montpensier, daughter of the duke of Orleans, belonged to the Fronde, as well as her father, and she ordered the cannon of the Bastile to be fired on the king's troops. The wags remarked that she had been unlucky enough to kill her husband by so doing, meaning that Louis XIV would probably have married her but for this determined action. Women were the principal agents, as well as the animating soul of the Fronde: every warrior had his mistress, and she dictated his party. The lines of the duke de Rochefoucauld to madame de Longueville are well known: "Pour meriter son cœur, pour plaire a ses beaux yeux, The memoirs of the cardinal Retz present the most amusing picture of this extraordinary time. In these we find a churchman putting pistols in his pockets on leaving his house, to be prepared for any casual affair in the streets; submitting the profoundest and most hazardous political intrigues to the deliberation of a troop of pretty women, in council with their husbands and lovers; now haranguing the mob as a patriot, now preaching to the court as a divine, now arguing in parliament as a subtile statesman, now posting his friends with the skill of a general, at the corners of the alleys, at the bottom of stair-cases, in the anti-rooms of public buildings, to back eloquence by the appearance of force. Women, however, formed the soul of the whole movement. ‘Ar midnight,' says the cardinal, 'I went chez madame: I found her in bed; we had a long consultation over the last proposals made by the court: she was of opinion that if Mazarine, &c. &c. &c.' Sometimes it is, I found madame in bed with her husband; I submitted to her my ideas on the present state of our affairs, but I could not convince her, though I observed that monsieur seemed to approve of what I said.' Such is the style of these extraordinary memoirs, in which traits of the acutest sagacity and deepest ambition unite themselves in perfect harmony with the details of gallantry, frivolity, and dissipation. Such unions as these are not now to be found in the world: the principle of the division of labour has been extended to character: as certain artizans fashion the heads of pins, others make the bodies, others sharpen the points, and others put the two together; so politics and compliments, eloquence and dancing, fall in general into different hands, and distinguish different characters. No doubt this latter method has its advantages: Adam Smith explains them: but life is thus split into so many separate and dry divisions, that we no longer enjoy the interest and amusement offered by the brilliancy of contrast, the reliefs of light and shade, and the charm and surprise of versatility. Each woman of fashion and beauty at this epoch, possessed in her lover her political department: madame de Montbazon, handsome and brilliant, governed the duke de Beaufort; madame de Chatillon held two places,-that is to say, she had for lovers, Nemours and Conde; mademoiselle de Chevreuse directed the cardinal Retz; mademoiselle Soujon, devout and tender, presid ed over the duke d'Orleans; the dutchess de Bouillon managed her husband; and madame de Longueville, who by her beauty, birth, and courage, became the head of the Fronde, conquered all the great men who were necessary for the party. She had the merit of gaining Turenne, and of fixing the duke de Rochefoucauld. Cardinal Retz, in sketching her portrait, says,' she had a languor in her manners which was more touching than the splendour of the most brilliant. She had even a languor in her mind, which had its charms, because it had the most surprising and captivating awakenings.' He adds, she would have had few faults if love had not given her many.' To inspire confidence in the breasts of the Parisians, she went to the hotel de Ville to be brought to bed, and the infant was baptized under the name of Charles Paris. When the rebellion was extinguished, madame de Longueville, as a resource against languor, engaged with ardour in literary discussions; and when she had lived out the interest of these, she afforded one of those edifying spectacles on which madame de Genlis lays so much stress: She quitted society,' says our author, and consecrated her retreat to austerities and penitence.' Nothing could be more brilliant than the appearance of the public meetings during the time of the Fronde: the ladies entered the rooms at the head of their parties; they were supported by their received lovers and devoted admirers, as a general is supported by his staff, and they wore elegant scarfs, which distinguished the sides they had adopted. The gentlemen went to the balls in cuirasses, and instruments of war and music were heaped together in the corners. Cardinal Retz describes these extraordinary spectacles in very lively language. One of his friends, he says, beholding with him the scene presented by the apartment of madame de Longueville, asked him if it did not seem that the romance of L'Astree was realized? We believe it was from the midst of this VOL. XII. 42 |