The weather has suddenly changed from oppressive heat to the bitter north-east winds which accompanied us here. I suppose the heat took leave on the wings of last night’s thunder-storm.
| [2] | See Appendix. |
CHAPTER VII.
Place Bellecour—Louise Labé—Clémence de Bourges—Her desertion by her lover—His Death—Her own—Rue de la Belle Cordière—Abd-el-Kader—The fat Cantinière Captive—Presented to the Emperor of Morocco—The Emperor’s Love—Her obstinacy—Application made to the Consul—Her Oaths and Blows—Her Return—The Savoyard Regiment’s fidelity—Marquis of —— and Dogs—Cat Massacre—Indignant Landlady—Pont de la Guillotière—Bridge at the same spot broken beneath Philip Augustus and Richard Cœur de Lion—Leaving Lyons—Mont Blanc—La Verpelière—Its Accommodation—La Tour de Pin—A lovely Country—An Auberge—Destructive Storms—Pont du Beauvoisin—Curious Landlady—Leeches en poste—A smiling Country—A wild Pass—La Chartreuse—Valley des Échelles—Grotto—Cascade of Cours—Chambéry.
The evening promenade of the fashionables of Lyons is under the trees of the Place Bellecour, and capricious as fashion is called, she was enthroned here three centuries ago. Louise Labé was a native of Lyons; from her childhood remarkable for genius and personal attractions; at fifteen, a fearless, vain, beautiful girl. Her father’s pride bestowed on her an education beyond her sex and century, and an imagination unchilled as her temper was unrestrained by control, joined to the consciousness of her own superiority, induced her, from this early age, to seek to rise above her sex, and laugh at all the barriers which custom had raised between it and glory. Her hours of recreation, from Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish studies, she passed in attaining perfection in all military exercises, and the command of the most fiery horse. At the age of sixteen, and during the campaign of 1542, she appeared at the army. The Dauphin commanded the siege of Perpignan, and Louise disdained to treat fatigues or dangers as obstacles when distinction was before her. Her dauntless courage soon made her known by the name of Capitaine Loys. After the siege, abandoning the profession of arms with the same caprice which led her to adopt it, she returned to Lyons, to cultivate letters with more enthusiasm than before; for with her all tastes were passions.
Many sought her hand; it was said she had given her heart while at the army to a young officer of family, but no fortune. She, notwithstanding, on her return, accepted a rich rope merchant, named Perrin, whose riches might afford fresh means of celebrity. In her spacious gardens, near the Place Bellecour, crowds assembled to see her; men of learning, poets, and artists. The subjects of their meetings were science, poetry, and the fine arts, of all which she seemed the beautiful genius by turns; and a knowledge of music and a fine voice were added to these gifts of a higher order, like the wand to the enchantress.
Among those who sought her society was her friend, Clémence de Bourges. Much younger than Louise; of not inferior, though a different style of beauty, of equal genius, timid as was its possessor. To her Louise Labé dedicated a volume of poems, and became in turn confidante of her most secret thoughts. The one was the observed of all observers, a sun round which worlds might revolve; the other, with all her talent and loveliness, was a mild, soft-hearted woman, content to single forth “a bright particular star,” and make it that of her destiny. She was betrothed to the object of her first love, a young officer, of the name of Jean Dupeyrat, whose profession often absented him from Lyons; and during these absences it became the habit of Clemence to pass much of her time with Louise in discourse of her lover, sometimes showing to her in confidence the sweet verses her affection addressed to him. At last the officer returned; Louise’s curiosity was excited, and Clemence was proud and happy to make him known to her. Woman’s vanity prevailed over woman’s friendship. She tried the powers of her fascination, and Dupeyrat was dazzled by the wit which shone from heartlessness, and Clemence was too deeply interested to struggle long, for her hand was paralyzed by feeling her life staked on the throw. Next she was neglected;—the friends parted, and then she was alone; and while Dupeyrat was following the footsteps and listening to the magic voice of her brilliant rival, adding one more to her court, young Clemence pined and grew pale in her solitude, but lived on still, for hope had not quite deserted her. At last Dupeyrat left Lyons to join his comrades at the siege of Beaurepaire, and while Clemence trusted that absence might bring back thoughts of other times, she received news of his death; he had been killed during the storm. She did not survive him long, and was borne to her grave with her fair young face uncovered, and her head crowned with white flowers, and followed to it by the regret of all Lyons.
Louise Labé, not formed of the “porcelain of human clay,” inherited the fortune of her deceased husband, and died about forty years of age. From the most celebrated of her works, a kind of drama, entitled “Love and Madness,” Lafontaine took the plot of one of his fables. After her decease, her house was taken down, and a street occupies its place. It is still called after her, “Rue de la belle Cordière.”