The Trousseau of Marie Leszczyńska

Like all other royal brides, the 22-year old Marie Leszczynska would have been sent to France with a trousseau. A trousseau was the personal wardrobe of a bride; when the bride happened to be royal, she would typically be a foreigner and thus representing another country's court upon her arrival in France. This meant that her initial trousseau would be subject to close scrutiny. Consequently, a good deal of though went into the preparation and completion of a royal woman's trousseau as it would represent her native country's wealth and influence.

Historically, the trousseau of Marie Antoinette has garnered plenty of attention but that of her predecessor - and longest serving queen consort of France - has received far less attention. That is not without reasoning though; the two young women came to the throne of France from two very different backgrounds. While Marie Antoinette was the daughter of a very wealthy and powerful Emperor and Empress, Marie Leszczynska's situation was completely different. As the daughter of a deposed king rather than a reigning king, her trousseau was not nearly as splendid as Marie Thérèse's had been before her and Marie Antoinette's would be after her.

Marie Leszczynska in 1725

Marie Leszczynska arrived on French soil in July 1725; it was while she was staying at Strasbourg for her proxy marriage that her trousseau was first noted by the French - and they certainly found it lacking. To some of the French courtiers the trousseau was a disappointment; it was deemed to lack in both quantity and quality. For instance, it was determined that she lacked both gowns, slippers and chemises. Consequently, her measurements were taken and reported back to Paris so that the new queen would have a wardrobe befitting her rank. It fell to Madame de Prie (mistress of the prime minister Duc de Bourbon who had largely orchestrated the match) to complete her trousseau.

Originally, the plan had been to send back some of her belongings before she left Wissembourg where she resided; however, her shoes and gloves were in such poor condition that the French envoy had to make his apologies but they would not make for good models. 

The whole procedure of taking the measurements must have been a trial for the young woman. She would be stripped of her clothing, typically in front of several strangers, who would then prod her like a prize calf. Perhaps it was not for nothing that one of Madame de Prie's first additions to Marie Leszczynska's wardrobe was several chemises.

As it happens, the dire financial situation of the bride's father meant that paying for the trousseau fell to the French treasury. The French envoy who had gone to Stanislas himself reported that he ci-devant Polish king was embarrassed by not being able to give his daughter a trousseau - although he could give her the crown of France. He had apparently revealed her fate to her by the word:

"You see Marie, providence rewards honest people; you did not have a chemise in 1725 and you are queen of France"

The price of the trousseau would have been a very expensive post, indeed - in comparison, when her linen alone was renewed in 1738, it cost 30.000 livres; some forty years later, Marie Antoinette's would cost a staggering 400.000 livres. While one has to account for both inflation and the superior position of the Empress of Austria, the number still gives a good idea of how expensive a royal trousseau could be

To her detractors, this was yet another reason for why the young woman was entirely unsuitable. It should be said, though, that the French government was entirely aware of her father's situation; it had been her very place as a non-entity in the power play of Europe that made her such a desirable bride in the first place. Had she been richer, there would have been a greater risk of offending Spain whose royal family were already furious at having their candidate sent back to them.

However, in 1725, the newly arrived bride needed even the most essential parts of a woman's wardrobe, let alone a royal woman. It has been suggested that the physical examination (which she was also subjected to) was made so much of due to her lacking trousseau. By emphasizing her ability to bear children - which the king and country desperately needed - it was hoped that people would be more willing to overlook that the bride was neither rich nor represented a powerful alliance.

On the positive side, the fact that the French court was tasked with filing the new bride's trousseau also meant that they could not possibly find fault with it. That seems to have been the case - no one made negative comments on the bride's wedding dress when the wedding day finally came.

Louis de Rouvroy, Duc de Saint-Simon

Born on 16 January 1675, the young Louis de Rouvroy was born into very good circumstances. His father, Claude de Rouvroy, had been elevated to the rank of Duc de Saint-Simon in 1635 and had enjoyed the benefits of being a favourite of Louis XIII. The new mother was Charlotte de l'Aubespine was of an old, distinguished family but that was far from her best quality.

As it happened, Louis would benefit enormously from his mother. She was very intelligent and undertook her son's education personally while maintaining a good relationship with the elite of the French court. For instance, the chosen god-parents for the young boy were none other than Louis XIV and Marie-Thérèse. Consequently, Louis spent a large portion of his early childhood with his formidable mother - meanwhile his father, who was 68 years old at the time of his birth, would have taken the more traditionally, aloof approach to the infant.

Thus, the young boy grew into a young man who became more and more aware of his dues as a duke of France. At the age of 22, Louis entered the grey musketeers and immediately went into service. In 1692 he participated in the Siege of Namur before fighting at Neerwinden.

While Louis was fighting elsewhere, a marriage was being prepared for him. By this time, Louis was a very eligible bachelor. His father had died in 1693 leaving him as Duc de Saint-Simon at the age of 18. Already at the age of 19, we see clearly the characteristic that has become almost synonymous with the new Duc de Saint-Simon: obsession with rank. Despite his young age, Louis was perfectly prepared to take legal action when the Duc de Luxembourg attempted to move his place up in the inner hierarchy between dukes. At this point in history, there was a pecking order within the dukedoms in which the highest ranking was the one whose dukedom had been created first. Luxembourg attempted to claim that he should be second - rather than eighteenth - which would push Saint-Simon (number 12) further down. As a result, Saint-Simon filed a formal protest.

The Duc de Saint-Simon in his youth

The chosen bride was Marie-Gabrille de Durfort, the daughter of the Duc de Lorges. The two would marry in 1695. Interestingly, their relationship was remarkably well-suited. One would suspect that a young man with such a large sense of superiority would have little regard for his wife but the reverse proved to be the case. Their marriage would be a prime example of a marriage in the ancien regime; while it does not appear to have developed into downright love, they possessed a mutual respect for each other and worked together to further their interests. 

Also, it was noted that she possessed the knack for curbing his most pompous thinking. To the outside world the two appeared to have a relationship built on respect, trust and a certain level of affection.

Meanwhile, Louis - now in his mid-twenties - was eager to demand his dues. Like most other young noblemen he hoped to gain his reputation through military service and he certainly believed that his rank entitled him to a higher military rank or other promotion. Sadly for him, Louis XIV apparently disagreed. In what can only be described as a pique of wounded pride, he would resign his commission as officer in 1702.

This move on his behalf was characteristic of the young Louis de Rouvroy whose pride in his rank and obsession with furthering himself was already well-known. However, he should have known that Louis XIV was not one to take such a tantrum lightly. The king did not see the resignation as a matter of slighted honour but rather as a refusal to carry out his duty. While he probably did not realise it at the time, this act almost cost Louis his entire career at court.

The young Louis at 16

One can only speculate how the Duc de Saint-Simon managed to survive the obvious displeasure of the Sun King - but he did. From then on, Louis would dedicate his life to the routine of Versailles and the never-ending quest for furthering his family's interests.

One of his key points of conjecture was the matter of the royal bastards. Louis XIV had done everything in his power for his illegitimate children much to the shock of the old aristocracy. Saint-Simon was amongst those who were outraged when the king first married his children to princes and princesses of the blood but even that was nothing compared to what was to come. In 1714 he king decreed that his now legitimised sons could indeed inherit the throne of France, if the legitimised branches died out. While the situation seemed far-fetched considering how many people were in line to throne before them, it was hardly impossible - after all, no less than three dauphins had died since 1710.

His open dislike of the king's favourite children combined with his meticulous insistence on every little thing due to a duke, made the king think very little of him. Still, he appears to have been able to please when he wanted to as the Duc de Saint-Simon was still a welcome guest with many of the leading men of his day. Meanwhile, Louis showed himself to lack a talent - or taste - for court politics which is rather ironic considering his intimate knowledge of the goings-on at court. Even when his good friend, Pontchartrain, was made chancellor, he did not take the opportunity to seek further benefits for himself or his family.

While Louis was scheming to keep the legitimised princes out of any influence, his family was growing. Marie-Gabrielle gave him three children: Charlotte (later Princesse de Chimay), Jacques Louis (Duc de Ruffec) and Armand-Jean.

The death of Louis XIV in 1715 must have come as a relief to the Duc de Saint-Simon whose life had increasingly reached a dead-end. He was still far from gaining any favour with the king which essentially stalled his entire career which had instead begun to focus on cultivating useful alliances at court. When Philippe d'Orléans was declared regent - and Louis XIV's legitimised sons were removed from the line of succession - things appeared to have been far brighter than they had for years.

For the first time in years, the Duc de Saint-Simon found himself with a new appointment: he was amongst those chosen for the regency council. However, if he had expected the regent to take any advice from him, he was sorely disappointed. Louis had his own political vision of a France ruled, not by an absolute king, but by a Council consisting of the leading peers. As such, he himself would have exerted a far greater influence than he ever actually had.

Yet he now had an in with the focus of power which he used to obtain the position of ambassador extraordinary to Spain in 1721. His mission was to arrange for the young Infanta Mariana Victoria to be engaged to Louis XV. 

Louis appears to have relished his time in Spain. After all, he was entrusted with a delicate but highly important task and spent lavishly to impress his hosts. Even when he caught the dreaded smallpox, he does not appear to have been too dejected - perhaps being made a Grandee of Spain helped to ease the pain. 

Louis - with his new title
of Grandee of Spain

Once back in France, Louis' career went from lukewarm to ice-cold. His prodigious expenditure while in Spain had further damaged his already shaky finances. Curiously, the otherwise ambitious man does not appear to have done anything about it. Rather than joining the race for any type of profitable benefit, he instead retired from any form of politics. Towards the latter part of his life, he would write his famous memoirs of his time at court.

It seems paradoxical that a man whose legacy is almost entirely in his extensive memoirs should have left so little knowledge of his later years. By 1743 Marie-Gabrielle died and she was followed by their eldest son, Jacques Louis, in 1746. Considering his relationship with his wife, Louis must have been heartbroken. Whether that contributed to his continued absence from any intrigues can only be guessed at. 

What we do know is that his relationships with men of power - including Cardinal Dubois and the Orléans-family - cooled immensely over the years. Naturally, his memoirs leave no indication for the reason behind such a split.

Louis in 1728 at the age of 53

As his life came to an end, Louis appears to have been a deeply disappointed man. He had grown up with a solid sense of superiority, a superiority which he firmly believed entitled him to some greatness. Yet, he had not received any. Having first been thwarted in his military endeavours by Louis XIV, he was then brushed aside by Philippe d'Orléans who had no time for his political ideas. Even after his successful ambassadorship to Spain, he had no been granted any new office - instead he could only watch the debts pile up. When the Duc de Saint-Simon died on 2 March 1755, he died penniless and somewhat disillusioned.

Looking back on the famous memoirist what type of man was he? Naturally, he is most famous for his almost obsessive insistence on his dues as a duke but he does not appear to have been particularly ambitious. Despite being placed in a prime spot for advancement in the regency council he never made any particular efforts to gain more influence, benefits or even pensions. Haughty to a fault, he appears to have had almost an expectation of being granted such things due to his rank at court - when that failed to materialise, he completely resigned himself. 

The Convenient Marriage of the Duc & Duchesse de Gramont

Béatrix de Choiseul-Stainville was - by all accounts - a difficult woman. She was the sister of the Duc de Choiseul but could not create a life for herself at court when he became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in 1758. The reason was that she was unmarried - this being the case despite her having reached her 30th year in an age when noble women were married much earlier. Yet, she was determined the set up a place for herself at court and consequently requested her brother to find a husband for her.

That might have been easier if Béatrix did not have a somewhat murky reputation. She had previously very openly courted the post of Louis XV's maitresse-en-titre but had been unsuccessful. Her rejection was already the knowledge of the entire court but she did not seem to have been deterred from future attempts. While she was admittedly both intelligent and capable, she was also incredibly dominating, ambitious and somewhat shameless in her pursuits of her goals. For instance, her attempts at winning the king's affection had been entirely destroyed by her brazenness - the skittish king was thrown completely off by her open attempts at seducing him.

Béatrix de Choiseul-Stainville

Thus, her problem in 1758-59 was that she could not live permanently nor participate in court activities without having been officially presented - and for that to happen, she had to be married. 

This is where her brother stepped in. Even with her faults, she was still the sister of a powerful minister who - at the time - had the king's ear. Yet it seemed to have been difficult for the Duc de Choiseul to find a man of suitable rank willing to marry his sister. Finally, he reached an agreement with Antoine VII, Duc de Gramont.

The Duc de Gramont was not much older than Béatrix, just 7 years. There appears to have been an understanding between the two ducal families that the marriage was merely pro forma. As such, Béatrix could claim her position at court both as a married lady and as a duchess. Consequently the union was celebrated on 16 August 1759. If anyone had any doubts that the marriage was little more than a gateway for Béatrix to the gilded halls of Versailles, they were quickly removed when the couple separated - just three months after the wedding. Yet, this separation was not legally binding until an official application for separation had been granted by the Châtelet du Paris.

Apparently, this application for a separation had been filed by Béatrix and was finally granted on 18 July 1761. So while the couple had not lived together for almost three years, they had still been - legally - considered to be husband and wife.

It is unknown what caused the Duc de Gramont to agree to such a union. The couple had no children; indeed, she would immediately move to her brother's household which she quickly took over. As for Antoine, he already had a legitimate heir to his title. He had been married once before to Marie Louise Victoire de Gramont (his first-cousin) who had given him a son before dying in 1756. 

Antoine VII de Gramont

In "Marie Antoinette, Her Early Years" the author briefly mention the rapid breakdown of the couple's marriage but also give a clue as to the Duc de Gramont's reasons to accept. It was suggested that Antoine "preferred the company of the members of the corps de ballet". While that may be more gossip than fact, it would not be unthinkable that the Duc was more inclined to accept a wife if it would lead attention away from his affairs - especially if the affairs were with other men. Of course, this is entirely speculation but that would allow him to continue his affairs while enjoying the respectability of a conventional marriage in an age where homosexuality was not just illegal but punishable by death. To Béatrix, it would also be an ideal arrangement. 

She would not have to endure having to submit to her husband's will while still being able to take his rank at court. She, too, would avoid the stigma of being an unmarried, non-ecclesiastical woman and she would be able to stand by her brother as his career advanced at court.

Their marriage was to endure - albeit in name only - for a staggering 34 years until the revolution. During this time the couple can hardly be said to have resembled anything other than mere acquaintances. Surprisingly, the whole affair does not appear to have made much of a stir at court. While it should be remembered that all marriages within the aristocracy were arranged marriages of convenience, it was still a rare thing to have the matter dealt with so bluntly. Otherwise it would not be uncommon for husband and wife to live in what amounts to little more than a partnership focused on furthering the interests of their family.

The Battle for Prime Minister of 1743

The early years of Louis XV's reign was remarkably untarnished by political intrigues - the few conspiracies that did appear were quickly dealt with by the regent. However, in the 1740's the court of Versailles had taken on a very different nature. 

Unlike his predecessor, Louis XV was not keen on assuming sole responsibility for state affairs and kept a prime minister; furthermore, his preference for privacy resulted in him retreating to his private apartments. This - in turn - left the courtiers free to form factions in a manner that Louis XIV's near omnipresence had otherwise prevented.

To set the stage, by 1743 the king of France was 33 years old but had not taken on the role of absolute monarch yet; instead, the running of the state went to his Prime Minister, Cardinal Fleury. However, Cardinal Fleury had been old for years - by 1743, he had reached the impressive age of 89. When he died in January of that year, the scene was set for a power play to determine the new Prime Minister.

Ready to fight it out within the gilded halls of Versailles were three powerful factions: Chauvelin, Noailles and Belle-Isle.

Faction of Chauvelin

Named for the king's Keeper of the Seals, Chauvelin, was seen as the obvious candidate by many at court. Indeed, he enjoyed remarkably widespread support from such powerful houses as that of the Condé, the Duc de Villeroy, the Carignan-family, the Prince de Chalais, the Duc de Biron, the Duc d'Aumont, the Duc de Créquy, the Marquis de Beringhen etc.

But one of his most valued supporters was a man of far lower rank but who had the immense advantage of holding one of the most sought-after posts in the king's household: First Valet to the King. Bachelier, as was his name, was one of the most intimate friends of the king and as such in an invaluable position to influence things as he saw fit.

And what of the main figure himself? Germain Louis Chauvelin, Marquis de Grosbois, is a rather unknown figure to contemporary minds. Unlike other ministers of his time such as Fleury, Bourbon and Argenson, he seems to have gone somewhat under the radar. This may have been due to his background. Unlike Noailles and Belle-Isle, Germain Louis Chauvelin was not of noble stock. His family were lawyers and had been attached to the Parlament de Paris; they might never have come any further had they not made several vital connections. The first was with the family of Michel Le Tellier who served as an influential politician to Louis XIV. He apparently saw the talents of the Chauvelins and attached them to his service and later to his son, Louvois.

The second was the introduction of Germain to none other than Cardinal Fleury. From there, the two struck up a mutually beneficial relationship in which Germain acted as an aide to the increasingly powerful Cardinal. Chauvelin would reap the benefits of this connection when he was made Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs - a post he held for a decade between 1727 and 1737. However, in 1737, he was suddenly fired by none other than Cardinal Fleury.

One can only imagine that Chauvelin relished the opportunity to succeed the very man who had turned his back on him.

Germain Louis Chauvelin

Faction of Noailles

Undoubtedly one of the more famous families of French nobility, the house of Noailles had already exerted considerable influence during Louis XIV. They had managed to keep a hold on power during the regency and had been instrumental in the rise of the king's trusted advisor, Cardinal Fleury.

The sheer number of Noailles' at court was a massive boon - for instance, the then-reigning Duc de Noailles (Adrien Maurice) had no less than nine sisters, most of whom were married to other dukes or high-ranking noblemen. This, naturally, bound the family of Noailles closely together with other houses - there were so many of them connected by marriage that the Duc de Luynes simply referred to the family as "the tribe". Amongst these houses were those of d'Estrées, Grammont, La Vallière - and the legitimised son of Louis XIV, the Comte de Toulouse. Through the latter, the faction had a key to the king's inner circle in a good friend of the Comtesse de Toulouse: Madame de Mailly. This young lady happened to be amongst the king's first official mistresses and therefore had access to him in private.

The Duc de Noailles was already Minister for War and upon the death of Cardinal Fleury, he surprisingly showed the king a letter that would have tremendous effect. The author of the letter was none other than Louis XIV and the recipient had been his grand-son who had (then) recently been elevated to the throne of Spain as Philip V. In the letter, the Sun King did not mince his words and clearly instructed the newly-crowned Spanish king to take no prime minister but rule by his own will - the argument was that god had chosen him for the role, and god would provide all the guidance needed.

That would be the tipping point - Louis XV chose no new Prime Minister but took on the role of absolute king. But why would the Duc de Noailles do such a thing? One could argue that he missed the chance of becoming Prime Minister himself.

There is one thing that is worth remembering. The Duc de Noailles was no fool and he knew the king's character remarkably well. He knew that Louis XV hated change but also that the king would not hesitate to get rid of a minister who had become bothersome - the king was infamous for his often callous manner of dismissing his ministers as he would rarely give them an opportunity to speak to him. Instead, he would simply have someone else deliver a message of dismissal.

A creature of habit, the king was far more likely to keep people around him whose company he enjoyed and whom he was used to. Much like he would keep Madame de Pompadour as his official mistress for years, even after they stopped sleeping together, so the king disliked an interruption of his normal life. A minister was easy to replace - a friend harder.

That could very well have been the thought behind the action. Perhaps the Duc de Noailles considered his chance of having lasting influence to be greater if he had access to the king in a more intimate atmosphere than merely at the council table. If so, he would have been quite right - as the years following 1743 would show, Louis could be influenced but primarily by those he shared a close bond with.

Adrien Maurice de Noailles

Faction of Belle-Isle

Charles Fouquet, Duc de Belle-Isle was no stranger to intrigue. Having spent the majority of his life in military service, he attempted to persuade Louis XV to join forces with Frederick II of Prussia who was in the midst of violating his own treaty by attacking the newly-crowned Maria Theresia of Austria.

Supported by several influential persons at court, the Duc de Belle-Isle managed to avoid potential disaster when Cardinal Fleury learned that he had previously had ties to another faction which had been forcibly disbanded in 1723. It was only due to the influence of his ally, the Duchesse de Lévis, that Cardinal Fleury not only overlooked it but promoted him to lieutenant-general. 

Besides the Duchesse de Lévis, he could count amongst his friends the Cardinal de Rohan, the Duc de Richelieu (on occasion), Marechal de Boufflers and Madame de Castries. He had also married a member of the Béthune family. However, he would eventually make a blunder. 

Having succeeded in persuading Louis XV to enter the War of the Austrian Succession, France soon found herself in an unfortunate situation. Once Prussia had gotten what they wanted, they hastily made peace with Austria. This left the outnumbered French troops alone against the Habsburg-forces. While Belle-Isle did manage to retreat in a dignified manner - his courage and use of his military experienced gained him respect even from the Austrians - his troubles did not end there. He was said to have openly criticised Cardinal Fleury - it was even rumoured that he had called him an "old fool". 

Naturally, the French were not too pleased to learn that their army had been sent packing and Belle-Isle's reputation suffered. To make matters worse, he found that Cardinal Fleury had little to say in his defence and it is hardly unlikely that the Cardinal would have complained of Belle-Isle to the king. Unfortunately for Belle-Isle he was not even present to defend himself at court. On route back to Versailles, he had been captured by the English army who held him prisoner for a year. One can only imagine the damage that would have done to his reputation.

 

Charles Fouquet, Duc de Belle-Isle

Interestingly, none of these men's rise to influence resembled one another. Chauvelin had climbed up from the position of lawyer and had reached his peak thanks to a mixture of patronage and talent. Noailles - while being astute and intelligent himself - came from an old family to which there were traditional allies to draw on. Finally, Belle-Isle had had to extricate himself several times from former scandals and had used his success on the battlefield to gain further influence.

What they all did have in common were three key characteristics: ambition, intelligence and pragmatism. Each of them had seen the necessity of cultivating a good relationship with Cardinal Fleury (at least until Belle-Isle became too bold) and all had drawn on family connections to achieve their ends. That was hardly a new invention - on the contrary it was all but impossible to make a name for oneself without having at least one, powerful connection already at court.

So, when Louis XV chose to lead France himself, which one of these would-be Prime Ministers came out on top?

The Duc de Noailles continued to exert considerable influence at court; politically, he held the post of Minister of Foreign Affairs for a brief period in 1744. Otherwise, his extensive family ties ensured him a considerable amount of influence at court.

The Duc de Belle-Isle once again demonstrated his uncanny ability to survive immense adversity. Once back on French soil, he was soon dispatched to the army again, despite the previous disaster. This proved to be the right choice as he managed to prevent an invasion of Provence. In return, the king raised him to duke and peer - even his dreams of politics were not unanswered. In 1758, he became Minister for War before dying in 1761.

The man who got the short end of the stick was undoubtedly Chauvelin. Having been exiled to his estates following his dismissal from his post of Secretary of State, he saw the death of Fleury as an opportunity to regain royal favour. Unfortunately, Louis XV would have none of it and in what must have been extremely embarrassing circumstances, Chauvelin was obliged to - once again - leave court for his estates. It was not until his friend, d'Argenson, interceded on his behalf that he was finally allowed near the court in 1746 - but any dream of further political office was over. He would never hold a position of note again.

The Incomplete Education of Louis XVI

In 1760, the young Louis Auguste held the title of Duc de Berry and was third in line to the throne of France - at this point in time, few expected that he would one day become Louis XVI, as both his father and his elder brother stood to inherit before him. At the age of 6, the Duc de La Vauguyon was appointed as the governor of the young prince - a choice that the pupil himself would later come to deeply resent.

As a royal prince, his education was widespread and largely dictated by his father, Louis Ferdinand: religious studies, latin, geography, history, chemistry, mathematics, physics and astronomy were amongst the fields covered. Later, he would add English to his list of languages. The young Louis appeared to have had a natural talent for especially geography - a subject he would devote many hours to as an adult. During his lessons, he would draw up detailed maps of Versailles and its surroundings. Likewise, he seems to have had a firm grasp on the otherwise labyrinthine system of finances which can be seen from his numerous attempts at financial reform in the late 1780's.

Rather unusually, both the Dauphin and Dauphine took an active part in their sons' education. Twice a week, Louis Auguste and his brothers would be taken to their mother's apartments where they would be heard in the lessons of the week. This must have been somewhat awe-inspiring for a naturally timid boy, especially considering that both his younger brothers were more self-confident.

Louis XVI while Duc de Berry

La Vauguyon often tasked his pupil with writing smaller treatises on rather dry, but important subjects. The first of these had the lengthy title: "Moral and political maxims drawn from Télemarque concerning the science of kings and the happiness of peoples". Ironically, Télemarque had been the main character in a book published by Fénelon in 1699 which had subsequently been banned by Louis XIV for being too outspoken in its criticism of the absolute monarchy. Yet it was chosen by La Vauguyon for the Sun King's successor.

The Duc de Bourgogne, died unexpectedly in 1761 and his father followed him to the grave just four years later. This left the eleven-year old Louis Auguste as the new dauphin. From a purely educational viewpoint, the change had an immediate impact on his lessons. Added to the curriculum of courtly and scholarly virtues was now the awe-inspiring lessons in kingship.

On La Vauguyon's urging, Moreau and Berthier drew up no less than 35 "reflections" on the meaning of kingship. These were then drilled into the head of the king-to-be over a period of three years. It is a testament to Louis' memory skills that even La Vauguyon was impressed with how well he understood the reflections. These reflection gives a clear insight into the values distilled into the young man. Amongst them were the doctrine that a good king's sole purpose was to make his people happy and virtuous; likewise, he was to refrain from bloodshed - both at home and in war - unless absolutely unavoidable. This was not merely an education in how to subdue and discipline his people - it was a lesson in ruling with compassion and justice.

One particular aspect of Louis' education appears to have had a profound effect on him. By nature, Louis Auguste was shy and preferred to keep to himself. This characteristic can only have been furthered by the instruction from his confessor, Abbé Soldini, to "never let people read your mind". Likewise, he was taught that as king, it was vital that he did not become too open with his surroundings. Given such instructions it is hardly a wonder that the adult-Louis would have seen little reason to break off his natural reserve.

The Duc de La Vauguyon

Religion had an intense influence on the dauphin's education. Both his parents belonged to the Dévot party and most of his tutors were chosen accordingly. Thus, his education would be heavily influenced by religious dogmas.

One thing that stands out from the manner in which Louis Auguste was educated is that he was rarely urged to reach his own decisions. The teaching methods employed by La Vauguyon focused primarily on learning to repeat back what had been taught; there does not seem to have been much - if any - room for actual reflection on the subjects. In those few cases in which the pupil was expected to think about the subject at hand, there would usually be a correct answer. Thus, it appears that emphasis instead was placed on drawing inspiration from or downright reciting others; this could very well have contributed to Louis' later infamous characteristic of indecisiveness. After all, if a pupil is never taught to independently process a situation or concept and reach their own conclusions in childhood, how can they they be expected to do so later on?

The most influential figure during this period in his life was the Duc de La Vauguyon. The education he passed on to his royal pupil famously centered on four virtues: piety, goodness, firmness and justice. Initially these seem to be sound principles to instill in a young prince. However, La Vauguyon himself did not quite live up to one of them in particular: goodness.

The Comtesse de Boigne would later say of Louis XVI that the king had claimed to only habour a feeling of hatred towards one man: La Vauguyon. Whether that was ever actually uttered by the king is impossible to know. What is more certain is that La Vauguyon believed in the old-fashioned type of teaching which included a good deal of discipline and strictness.

Interestingly, considering his avid passion for it, hunting was not included at all in his father's plan for Louis' education. It was not until his death that Louis XV gave his permission for his grandson to begin riding lessons. At this point he was 13 years old. The exercise proved to be an immense help to the dauphin. It strengthened him physically and allowed him a respite from the constraints and pressure placed upon him.

Louis Ferdinand - Louis XVI's father
who heavily influenced his sons'
education

One thing appears to have been remarkably absent from his education considering his status: military strategies. Unlike most of the noblemen's sons whom he interacted with, he had never been to either the École Militaire or the Invalides. Combined with his utter lack of martial aspirations, it is little wonder that Louis XVI never became known as a military commander.

In a similar vein of thought, very little attention appears to have been devoted to the inner workings of the state apparatus. Considering that he was to exercise complete control over the French government, La Vauguyon does not seem to have introduced him to the finer workings of bureaucracy. Likewise, there appears to have been no focus on current challenges faced by France.$ When he ascended the throne in 1774, the harsh regimen of La Vauguyon had imbued the new king with a well-read mind, but had failed to provide him with the tools necessary to rule as an absolute monarch. 

It was not until around 1770, that Louis XV became personally invested in his grandson's education. From then on, he would instruct him himself in various subjects. By this point, Louis Auguste appears to have become a young man with ideas of his own as to how France could be governed. The future king's analytical mind enjoyed the exercise of drawing up various reforms to improve his nation; when he ascended the throne, he would attempt to enact them but largely unsuccessfully. His ideas might have worked had they come a few decades earlier. But by the 1770's and 1780's, France was too divided between the firm adherents of the ancient regime and the followers of the newer Enlightenment. Wherever the new king turned, he seemed to be met with rock solid resistance and a fierce refusal from both sides to even attempt to cooperate. As a result, the king would be plagued by self-doubt and change his mind numerous times.

The times were changing when Louis Auguste received his education and it was very much reflected in it. On one hand, the pupil was taught about the absolute power he was to yield and the god-given right he had to do so. One the other, the Enlightenment was sneaking in with thoughts on liberty, equality and a humanity. It is hardly surprising, then, that Louis XVI would struggle his entire life with the keen balancing act of being an absolute monarch with the virtues of a child of the Enlightenment. Sadly, in the end, it proved to be two doctrines too far removed to be compatible. 

Crime & Punishment: The Thrice-Imprisoned Duke

Exile or imprisonment of wayward noblemen was nothing new in the 17th century. While the former does not sound nearly as dire as the latter, it must be remembered that in the age of the Sun King - and his successors - to be seen was everything. A man's entire career could be unbalanced if the king did not physically see him at court; therefore, in a court living very much by the "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" mentality, exile could be just as punishing as imprisonment.

Yet, there were cases were the king needed the set a sterner example. If not used to punish downright criminal behaviour, imprisonment was a viable option to counteract particularly scandalous behaviour. Few people caused as much scandal at the court of France in the 18th century as Armand de Vignerot du Plessis, Duc de Richelieu.  

The Duc de Richelieu

Armand was born in 1696 into extremely fortunate circumstances. Not only was he the son and heir of a duke, he was also a godson of Louis XIV - thus, his life began remarkably well. As he grew into a young man, it soon became very clear that he had a strong licentious streak and a definite taste for the fairer sex. Sure enough, his attitude would lead him figuratively into trouble - and literally into the Bastille.

Already at the age of 15, Armand was remanded to the notorious prison for the first time. His behaviour had become so displeasing to his family that his own stepfather had requested the king to imprison his son - and the king obliged. Oddly enough, when Armand had joined court he had been much admired and considered both polished and "honest" at play; however, once the Duchesse de Bourgogne began lavishing her affections on him it became too much. It was whispered that the Duchesse's blatant favouritism had caused the king, Madame de Maintenon and the then-reining Duc de Richelieu to convene and intervene before things went any further than court flirtation. 

On 22 April 1711 he was conducted there to reflect on his behaviour. While sulking in prison - with his stepfather's threat of leaving him there hanging overhead - he was visited by his young wife, Anne Catherine de Noailles. There was no love lost between the two as their marriage had only been contracted to distract from the rumours about the Duchesse de Bourgogne. Nevertheless, Anne Catherine took the time to provide him with fresh provisions.

While there, his family clearly hoped to amend his utterly neglected education. The archives of the Bastille show that he was visited not only by his stepfather but by his wife's relatives, too - including the Cardinal de Noailles. His tutors were also allowed access to the young man to further his education. Added to that congregation of relatives were his friends, including the Prince de Conti.

Armand was noted as behaving like a model prisoner, yet he was not released as quickly as he might have hoped for. All through the summer he languished there - although he did receive visits from his friends and family. By October, he suddenly fell gravely ill with the dreaded smallpox and it was feared that he would die. His condition allegedly became so desperate that he receive his final communion on the 3 October. 

After a fortnight, Armand was well enough to wish to leave but if he had thought his near-brush with death would liberate him, he was sorely disappointed. It was not until the middle of June 1712 that he was finally released. By then, he was a year and a half older - but apparently not much wiser.

The Bastille at the time of Richelieu's last imprisonment

The Duc de Fronsac - as he was known before inheriting his father's title - did not return to court immediately. Rather, he went directly to his regiment in Flanders. Military service was all but mandatory for physically fit young noblemen and Armand might well have thought that his reputation could do with some martial glory. To the surprise of some of his contemporaries, Armand was a remarkably adept military commander. Under the guidance of senior officers, he was sent back to Versailles to inform the king of the capture of Douai, amongst others.

His military exploits certainly did raise his name at court and his prestige was further elevated upon the death of his father when he thus became the Duc de Richelieu. The death of Louis XIV followed and while Armand was reported to have wept for the old king, he certainly did not share his austerity - or his view on duelling. 

Louis XIV had been an avid opponent of the age-old "conflict-resolution" that was duelling. Yet, it continued - and would continue for decades - to be a respectable way to settle matters between often less than respectable gentlemen. With the death of Louis XIV the austerity of the court was replaced by a sense of frivolity - much like a house of teenagers when a strict parent went away. This was even more so the case for Armand whose own father had hitherto acted as a counterbalance to his lifestyle (despite his father's own reputation for being somewhat of rake). 

To those of the court who were young, rich and bored, it was truly a remarkable time. As one of the leading noblemen of France, it is hardly surprising that the young Richelieu took (more than) his fair share of the amusement. By February 1716, however, his escapades were once again catching up to him. Rumours spread across Paris that the Duc de Richelieu had fought a very public duel with the Marquis de Gacé over a remark made to a lady at a masked ball. According to Denis Bingham, in "The Bastille", Gacé had been escorting a beautiful lady around when they encountered the duke. Upon their meeting, the marquis is alleged to have warned his fair companion of the fickleness of the duke's affections.

Acting as only young men would they immediately went to settle their differences but did not consider their surroundings. Rather than performing the duel - still illegal at this point - in private, they crossed swords in the open street and was thus observed by numerous people. Naturally, the parliament learned of this and had both hotheads imprisoned in the Bastille. However, despite the parliament's fervent attempts to succeed in finding them guilty it was in vain. Parliament was at loggerheads with the peerage and no one would willingly step forward and witness against a duke. Furthermore, as a peer of the realm, Armand demanded to be tried by his peers - that is, other dukes. Naturally, none of them found him guilty and as both the duke and the marquis denied the duel, there was little for parliament to do. Thus, both men were released and Armand exited the Bastille for the second time in May.

Hitherto, the circumstances that had led the young Duc de Richelieu to the Bastille had been somewhat minor. However, his third - and final - imprisonment was on far more serious charges: conspiracy against the crown. On 29 March 1719, the Duc de Richelieu was arrested on orders of the regent for having participated in what was to become known as the Cellamare Conspiracy.

The Cellamare Conspiracy - named for its main author, the Prince de Cellamare - was a plot against  the Regent, Philippe II d'Orléans, who acted for the young Louis XV. The conspirators aimed at deposing him and having him replaced with the king of Spain, Philip V, who was Louis XV's uncle. Considering that the king was only nine years old in 1719, his recent bouts of ill-health naturally gave rise to grave concerns about the succession. The Spanish court were adamant that should Louis XV die without an heir, the crown of France should go the heirs of the Spanish king - not the Duc d'Orléans.

The Regent - Philippe II d'Orléans

His fellow dukes were incensed at the manner of the arrest - rather than being arrested like a nobleman, he was escorted by archers like a common criminal. Despite the outrage of the peerage, the Regent was not without cause in his suspicions.

Nevertheless, incriminating evidence was found upon his arrest, including correspondence between himself and the Spanish ambassador. He was also known to have been in close contact with Cardinal Alberoni, whose position as a powerful minister in Spain made him a natural agent for the Spanish to use. It was a letter from him to Richelieu that would prove particularly damaging as it openly offered the French duke riches and fortune in return for support, including in the form of handing over the French city of Bayonne to the Spanish.

Due to the nature of the accusation, he was not treated in the same style as before. During his first two stints in the Bastille, he had been given comfortable rooms and servants as well as permission to receive company. Yet, now, his situation was far less pleasant and the fripperies of his former imprisonment were long gone - although he was allowed to keep a single manservant. His new lodgings was an octagonal cell which was only lit by a slit in the solid brick walls. The room was terribly humid - so much so, that it was said that it took only an hour for a person's clothing to be completely permeated.

It should not be underestimated that while he might have had a part in the conspiracy, the Regent had another reason for wanting him locked up: Armand was having an affair with the Regent's daughter, Mademoiselle de Valois. 

Mademoiselle de Valois

It has been claimed that the chief of police, d'Argenson, attempted to lure Richelieu into a trap by resealing the opened letters and giving them to a man by the name of Marin. Marin was passed off as a Spaniard who had come to deliver the duke his mail and would take the opportunity to tempt him with offers of high-ranking military positions, endless fortune etc. However, Richelieu did not take the bait. 

It is probably in some part due to Mademoiselle de Valois that he did not fall for the trap. While it is unlikely that she actively conspired against her father (no proof of this exist nor does it seem plausible) we know from surviving letters that she warned her lover of the fact that the Regent claimed to have incriminating letters in his possession. Armand was therefore able to foresee that something was amiss when the unknown Marin suddenly appeared.

Despite his often cold treatment of his former mistresses, the Duc de Richelieu was immensely popular with the ladies of both court and capital. Once they heard of the conditions of his imprisonment they publicly decried the harshness of the Regent. It was even said that he managed to continue his affair with Mademoiselle de Valois while imprisoned; a feat they supposedly accomplished by disguising the young lady when she came and went. It certainly did not go unnoticed that prior to his release from prison, the young Mademoiselle de Valois was forced to marry the Duke of Modena.

Considering the nature of the circumstance which had landed him in the Bastille for a third time, Armand's outlook was bleak. Conspiracy against the crown - or in this case, the man acting for it - was typically punished with a death sentence. It was therefore to the astonishment of most when the conspirators were let off remarkably easy. Some were exiled to their estates while Armand was released entirely.

Despite his often outrageous lifestyle, the Duc de Richelieu lived a remarkably long life. In 1786, he is said to have gone back to the Bastille - this time voluntarily - for nostalgia's sake. To be sure, the world had changed drastically by then. When he stood on the ramparts and gazed down upon Paris, he could well have reflected that he first entered that very fortress no less than 75 years ago - in a different age, ruled over by a different king. Since then, he had seen two kings die but would (luckily for him) not live to see the fall of the monarchy - or the fortress which had thrice been his prison.

The Unknown Prince: Louis, Comte de Narbonne-Lara

Like his predecessor, Louis XV had a keen interest in women - however, unlike his great-grandfather, he was not wont to publicly recognise his illegitimate children. While it is well-known that he fathered several children out of wedlock - it would be difficult not to considering the number of mistresses he had and the state of contraceptions - few have been recorded to history in more than a few words. Of these children, one in particular stands out: Louis, Comte de Narbonne-Lara.

By 1755, Louis XV was 45 years old and considered to be one of the handsomest men at his own court. It was there that he would have encountered Françoise de Chalus, Duchesse de Narbonne-Lara, who served as a lady-in-waiting to Louise Élisabeth, the king's daughter. By 1749, this eldest daughter of the monarch had become the Duchess of Parma and was visiting her native country - in her entourage was a Spanish Grandee with the title of Comte de Narbonne-Lara. Jean François - as he was christened - would marry Françoise de Chalus in 1749.

Françoise de Chalus as a young
lady

As Louise Élisabeth was due to return to her husband's duchy of Parma in 1755, the couple accompanied her. Whether Françoise knew it yet or not cannot be ascertained but by the time they arrived in Parma, she found herself to be pregnant. Typically, this would hardly have been surprising for a young lady who had been married for six years but the pregnancy still set tongues wagging at both the courts of France and Parma. The thing was that eight years prior - in 1747 - Jean François had served as a soldier in the War of the Spanish Succession. While there, he had sustained an injury which left him "unable to have children" - more specifically, he had received a gunshot to his lower abdomen. This was far from mere speculation as Jean François himself had included it in a petition to Louis XV of 1747. Yet here he was, with a pregnant wife.

It was soon speculated that the real paternity lay with the king. When the child was born in August 1755, he was baptised Louis.

There is another aspect to this story which warrants a closer look. Louis was not Françoise's first child - she had an older son by the name of Philippe who was also born after his "official" father sustained his injury, more specifically in 1750. As it was widely rumoured that Madame de Narbonne-Lara had been a minor mistress to the king, it is possible that Philippe, too, was the king's child.

But why, then, was it only Louis who became the centre of the courtiers' attention? 

The brief answer would be: his looks. Throughout his life it would be remarked that the young Comte de Narbonne-Lara had an uncanny resemblance to the king - something that his elder brother does not appear to have shared. It should also be remembered that Philippe's father might not have been the king at all.

Some has argued that the later bestowal of the title of "Comte de Narbonne-Lara" is an indication of royal favour. However, it should be remembered that the child's official father was the duke of that same name. It would therefore not be unusual for his son to have a similar title.

Louis, Comte de Narbonne-Lara in
his older years

What could be seen as a sign of the child(ren's) royal paternity is the extraordinary good fortune of Jean François following his injury. Besides being allowed to marry a frenchwoman with a substantial position at court, he was later showered with royal favours - especially after the births of Philippe and Louis. His war injury excluded him from reentering active military service yet he was given the rank of colonel and appointed to the king's son-in-law's personal household. Later, when the young Louis was seven years old,  Jean François was further rewarded for his complaisance with two major distinctions: the rank of Maréchal and the title of Duc de Narbonne-Lara.

This is quite the astonishing rise for a man such as Jean François. To be sure, he was from an ancient noble family and had certainly made sacrifices during his military service to the king. However, this could easily be said of several other men at court who never received equal rewards. Considering that Louis XV was well-known to have enjoyed his wife's favours, it seems more likely that these benefits were a repayment for graciously remaining quiet on what was practically an open secret. 

 

From a purely logistical point of view, it is possible that the king was indeed the father of the two children. While Madame de Narbonne-Lara was officially settled in Parma, she did travel extensively between Paris and Parma. The timing, too, adds to the probability. Madame de Pompadour had recently withdrawn her more intimate favours and the king had not yet begun seeing the stream of unknown bourgeoise women that would later be so ruinous to his reputation. This would mean that there was an open position for a young woman - as long as she accepted that she would not become the official mistress. Perhaps Madame de Narbonne-Lara had hopes of replacing Pompadour in the king's affection - perhaps not. Either way, Madame de Pompadour might have accepted that she served as a distraction, knowing that she would - eventually - be obliged to return to Parma.

Louis XV

Some of the more scandalously inclined courtiers were quick to speculate in wilder terms as to the paternity of Louis de Narbonne-Lara. Even to a modern reader, the stories concocted by such persons seem astonishing. Some were certain that Françoise was not the mother at all but that she had agreed to pose as such in return for royal favours. Those supporting this theory claimed that the child was the offspring of one of the king's daughters - some even went so far as to say that the child was the result of an incestuous affair between the king and one of Mesdames.

Others claimed that the dauphin or even the Duke of Parma had fathered the off-spring which - in either case - would be a terrible embarrassment to the royal family. Either one of these theories seem far fetched to say the least; Mesdames were in the public eye constantly and a pregnancy would certainly not have gone unnoticed. While both the dauphin and the Duke of Parma technically could have fathered the child the question would be - why go to such extents to hide it? After all, this was an age where illegitimate children of high-born princes was hardly a foreign concept. Even if the Duke of Parma would have been eager not to anger his august father-in-law, surely it would have been easier to ship the child off to some family far away from court.

Finally, there is another indication that Louis XV truly was the father. While they had been born in Parma, Louis and Philippe were taken back to Versailles where he would not only be given a lavish education - alongside Mesdames no less - but would be attached to their households afterwards. No other child was allowed to share in the royal children's upbringing to such an extend. But it was the children's baptisms that seemed to cement their royal parentage. Rather than being baptised in the chapel, they were taken to the king's private cabinet - something that had previously been reserved for a king's illegitimate children.

The very intimacy he enjoyed with the royal family was truly something out of the ordinary. Besides being a frequent visitor in the apartments of Mesdames, he was also welcomed by the dauphin. Even after the outbreak of the revolution forced Mesdames to flee to Rome, he would accompany them and return as a staunch monarchist.

Both Louis and Philippe survived the revolution, dying in 1813 and 1834 respectively.