Whereupon they kiss the strange gentlemen. In the poem of “Huon de Bordeaux” we are told how Huon’s mother, the Duchess of Bordeaux, receives the French king’s embassy with kisses. The queen, in Marie de France’s Lai de Graelan, sends an ambassador after Graelan to make his acquaintance, and, when he arrives, goes to meet him, and kisses him on the mouth.
In other Romance countries, too, kissing serves as a common mode of greeting, which fact can be incidentally substantiated by means of philology, inasmuch as the Latin verb salutare (‘to greet’) both in Spanish and Roumanian, and partially in French, has acquired the meaning of ‘to kiss.’
When Abengalvon, in the old Pöema del Cid, meets Minaya Alvar Fañez, he advances smilingly towards him in order to kiss him, and he “greets” him on the shoulder, “for such was his wont”:
Sonrisando de la boca, ibalo abrazar,
En el ombro lo saluda, ca tal es su usaje.
The expression “to greet on the mouth” likewise occurs many times; but also the verb saludar (‘to hail’) is also used alone, as in the Roumanian sâruta, to express ‘to kiss.’
Even in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the friendly kiss flourished in France. When Leo Rozmital, the Bohemian nobleman, paid his respects to Louis XI. at Meung-sur-Loire, the king led him to the queen, and both she and all the ladies of her court kissed him on the mouth.
We get further information in a letter from Annibale Caro dated 29th October, 1544. It is addressed to the Duke of Palma, and describes the visit of the French Queen Eléonore to the Emperor Charles V. in Brussels. “When we met,” says he, “the ceremony of reception with kissing of the ladies was, in the highest degree, interesting; it seemed as if I had been present at the Rape of the Sabines. Not only the higher nobility, but even all the rest took each his lady, and the Spaniards and Neapolitans were the most eager. It gave rise to much merriment when the Countess of Vertus, Charlotte de Pisseleu, was observed to lean over her saddle to such an extent, in order to kiss the Emperor, that she slid off her horse, and kissed the earth instead of His Majesty’s mouth. The Emperor hurried up to her assistance, and with a smile kissed her heartily (e ridendo la baciò saporitamente). Directly afterwards Duke Ottavio rode up, jumped quickly off his horse, and the Emperor himself conducted him to the Queen’s carriage, and there he was presented to the distinguished ladies. The Duke kissed the Queen’s hand and was about to remount his charger, but the Emperor called him back, and told him that he ought also to kiss Mdme. d’Etampes, who was sitting right opposite to the Queen in the carriage. Like a good Frenchman, he exceeded the Emperor’s order and kissed her on the mouth.”
A vast quantity of other evidence goes to show how general was the friendly kiss of salutation even during the Renaissance, especially among the upper classes. Henri Estienne satirises it in his Apologie pour Hérodote. “Kisses are allowed,” writes he, “in France between noblemen and ladies, whether they do or do not belong to the same family. If a high-born dame is in church, and any fop of her acquaintance comes, she must, in conformity with the usage prevailing in good society, get up, even if she be absorbed in the deepest devotion, and kiss him on the mouth.”
Even Montaigne expresses his disapproval of such a state of things. “It is,” says he, “a highly reprehensible custom that ladies should be obliged to offer their lips to every one who has a couple of lackeys at his heels, however undesirable he may be, and we men are no gainers thereby, for we have to kiss fifty ugly women to three pretty ones.”
None the less, the friendly kiss held its ground right through the seventeenth and even a part of the eighteenth century. Molière’s marquesses kiss each other whenever they meet; for instance, in the famous eleventh scene in Les Précieuses ridicules, when Mascarille and Jodelet fall into each other’s arms with many warm kisses. In Le Misanthrope Alceste reproaches Philinte with embracing and kissing every one, and “when I ask you who it is, you scarcely know his name!”