[114] Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV., chap. xxv.
[115] Louvois had broken his leg the 3rd August, 1679. To complete the cure, which was slow, the doctors advised the Minister to go to Baréges. (See vol. iii. p. 513 et seq. of the excellent Histoire de Louvois of M. Camille Rousset).
[116] Despatches from Seignelay to Saint-Mars; Archives of the Ministry of Marine; Imperial Archives; Registers of the Secretary’s Office of the King’s Household.
CHAPTER VI.
The Count de Vermandois—His Portrait—Mademoiselle de la Vallière, his Mother—Anecdote from the Mémoires Secrets pour servir à l’Histoire de Perse—Father Griffet adopts its Conclusions—Arguments that he advances—Motives which render certain of Mademoiselle de Montpensier’s Appreciations suspicious—Improbability of the Story in the Mémoires de Perse—Illness of the Count de Vermandois—Reality of his Death attested by the most authentic Despatches—Magnificence of his Obsequies—Pious Endowments at Arras.
Those whose minds are naturally inclined to the romantic, but whom even a superficial examination of the question of the Man with the Iron Mask has determined to put the hypothesis which makes him a son of Anne of Austria, on one side,[117] willingly see in him the Count de Vermandois, natural son of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la Vallière. This opinion is a kind of compromise between the impossibility of accepting an imaginary being for hero, and the desire of seeing in the mysterious prisoner a very high personage. After having sacrificed to truth this unfortunate brother of Louis XIV., called to the throne by his origin, and kept away from it by a perpetual detention, they take refuge in an intermediary system, undoubtedly less tempting, but of which the attraction is still very exciting, and which, in a certain degree, reconciles the exigencies of truth with the taste for the romantic.
It is no longer the question of a prince of whose very birth we are ignorant. The present one actually existed, and such interest as he inspires from the moment he comes into the world he owes to her who gave him birth. He is the son of that La Vallière, equally touching in her heroic resistance to the inclination which impels her towards Louis XIV., and in her yielding, whom one esteems even when she succumbs, and whom one admires when she rises again to flee from the peril; who, long virtuous, always upright and disinterested, lives entirely absorbed in her passion, then takes refuge in penitence, and powerful without having desired it; ignorant or careless of her influence, strong in her very weakness, subjugates without art and without study the most imperious of kings; who, after having charmed all her contemporaries by her sweet and simple grace, and passed from the torments of a love unceasingly combated to the voluntary rigours of an expiation courageously submitted to for thirty years, has remained the most pleasing and most interesting character of this great reign, and will seduce even the most remote posterity.
Louis de Bourbon, Count de Vermandois, inherited his mother’s grace. He was tall and well made, and, like her, instinctively possessed that gift of pleasing which is never so engaging as when all about it is natural and nothing appears to depend upon art. Good and liberal, he had ways of obliging that were peculiar to himself,[118] and the most sensitive of men could not feel offended at his kindnesses. With such as these, when he wished to aid them, he made bets which he was certain to lose, or he sent them money by a hand which remained unknown. He was suspected of acts of generosity, which he never acknowledged himself the author of, and those whom he obliged had their necessities relieved without being required to testify their gratitude. His proud bearing and the air of supreme distinction which he inherited from his royal father, drew attention towards him still more than his high origin. To these outward charms, to these sentiments of exquisite delicacy and natural kindliness, which attached to him the soldier as much as the officer, Vermandois united a ready wit, a well-proved courage, a lively wish to distinguish himself, and to merit by splendid achievements the high dignity[119] to which, at the age of two years, he had been raised by the affection and pride of Louis XIV. Whilst still very young, and already in the midst of the army of Flanders, he had concealed a severe illness in order not to miss the noble rendezvous of an attack.[120] Like many of those destined to die prematurely, and who appear to foresee it, Vermandois hastened as it were through life, and seemed to strive, in endeavouring to render himself early illustrious, to anticipate the blow that was about to strike him. But sufficient time to attain glory was to fail him, and it was his destiny to leave behind him only the touching souvenir that attaches itself to beautiful hopes suddenly dissipated by death.
An unforeseen amende was, nevertheless, reserved for his memory. Sixty years after his sad end an idea suddenly sprang up of adding twenty years of captivity to his short existence, and with the view of rendering his destiny still more lamentable, of representing him as the mysterious victim of the rigours of Louis XIV.
In 1745 there appeared at Amsterdam the Mémoires Secrets pour servir à l’Histoire de Perse,[121] which, under supposititious names, contain the anecdotic history of the Court of France. This book, which had a prodigious success, and the editions of which were rapidly multiplied, owed in a great measure its celebrity to the following narration: “Cha-abas (Louis XIV.) had a legitimate son, Sephi-Mirza (Louis, Dauphin of France), and a natural son, Giafer (Louis de Bourbon, Count de Vermandois). Almost of the same age, they were of opposite characters. The latter did not allow any occasion to escape of saying that he pitied the French being destined some day to obey a prince without talent, and so little worthy to rule them. Cha-abas, to whom this conduct was reported, was fully sensible of its danger. But authority yielded to paternal love, and this absolute monarch had not sufficient strength to impose his will upon a son who abused his kindness. Finally, Giafer so far forgot himself one day as to strike Sephi-Mirza. Cha-abas is at once informed of this. He trembles for the culprit, but, however desirous he may be of feigning to ignore this crime, what he owes to himself and to his crown, combined with the noise this action has made at court, will not allow him to pay regard to his affection. He assembles, not without doing violence to his feelings, his most intimate confidants, allows them to see all his grief, and asks their advice. In view of the magnitude of the crime and conformably to the laws of the State, every one is in favour of inflicting the punishment of death. What a blow for so tender a father! However, one of the Ministers, more sensitive to the affliction of Cha-abas than the rest, tells him that there is a method of punishing Giafer without depriving him of life; that he should be sent to the army, which was then upon the frontiers of Feldran (Flanders); that shortly after his arrival, rumours could be spread that he was attacked by the plague, in order to alarm and keep away from him all those who might wish to see him; that at the end of several days of feigned illness, he should be made to pass for dead, and that, whilst in the presence of the whole army obsequies worthy of his birth were performed for him, he should be transferred by night with great secrecy to the citadel of the island of Ormus (Isle Sainte-Marguerite). This advice was generally approved of, and above all by an afflicted father. Faithful and discreet people were chosen for the management of the affair. Giafer starts for the army with a magnificent train. Everything is carried out as had been projected, and whilst the death of this unfortunate prince is being lamented in the camp, he is conveyed by by-roads to the island of Ormus, and placed in charge of the governor, who had received in advance the order of Cha-abas not to let his prisoner be seen by any one whatever. A single servant, who was in the secret, was sent with the Prince. But, having died upon the journey, the leaders of the escort disfigured his face with dagger-strokes in order to prevent his being recognized, left him lying upon the road, and after having stripped him as a further precaution, continued their route. Giafer was transferred to the citadel of Ispahan (the Bastille) when Cha-abas bestowed the governorship of it upon the governor of the island of Ormus as a recompence for his fidelity. The precaution was taken at the island of Ormus, as at the citadel of Ispahan, to put a mask over the face of Giafer, when on account of illness, or other causes, it was necessary to let him be seen by any one.”[122]