Chapter 6 FESTIVITIES AT CHANTILLY

SINCE there was no prospect for Condé to take any prominent lead in the affairs of his own country his name was proposed as a possible successor to the throne of Poland. He declined, however, to accept a crown which had been the cause of so much misery to King Wladislav IV and to his brother Jean Casimir.

There being no heir-apparent to that throne the eyes of Marie de Gonzague, Queen of Poland, turned upon the Duc d'Enghien, Condé's only surviving son, and it was in connection with this idea that a marriage was arranged between Henri Jules de Bourbon and Anne of Bavaria, eldest daughter of the Princess Palatine, sister to the Polish Queen. Claire-Clemence was not over-pleased at the idea of this marriage, since she did not share her husband's ambitions. The uneasy throne of Poland for her only son was a proposal which she could not face with equanimity.

The union that she would have preferred was one with Mademoiselle d'Alen?on, youngest daughter of Gaston d'Orléans, a Princess whom Henri Jules often saw and greatly admired, for the Orléans family at that time lived in the sumptuous Palais d'Orléans, not far from the Palais Condé, which was built on the site now occupied by the Odéon Théatre. But the Princess could not prevail upon her masterful husband, who had not only taken his son's education, but also his entire future, into his own hands. The brave lady, who had played so important a part during the Fronde, and had shown so much courage and determination under her many difficulties and trials, had at this time completely broken down in health. She only appeared at Court festivities at long intervals, and although she was present at her son's marriage she did not join the young couple at Chantilly. The Grand Condé, surrounding himself with friends, lived there from choice; and there Anne de Gonzague paid him frequent visits, whilst Claire-Clemence was left neglected in Paris. Society soon followed suit; and such neglect and isolation told upon a constitution naturally delicate. This Princess, once so full of admiration for her hero, now began to cherish resentment against him; and she who for long years had, in spite of his neglect, never uttered one word of complaint, at last broke out into bitter recrimination. We gather from Condé's letters that she suffered from violent fits of passion, and that a secret fear lest he should make away with her became more and more a fixed idea. It is said, however, that when she appeared at the baptism of the Dauphin her attitude was full of dignity and commanded involuntary respect. Two years after this an unfortunate incident happened, never entirely explained, which reduced Claire-Clemence to imprisonment for the rest of her life. Condé had compelled her to dismiss a page, named Duval, who had been in her service. She had, however, promised him a pension which it seems was left unpaid. One day, whilst the rest of the servants were at their meals, he penetrated into the Princess's apartments to beg for his pension. His voice was heard by the page on duty in the next room, who at once entered the chamber in order to protect Her Highness from his importunities. A violent quarrel arose between the two men, and the Princess, in her endeavours to separate them, was severely wounded. When the rest of the servants, on hearing the noise, rushed into the apartment, Her Highness was found unconscious on the floor. This was the version put about in Paris; but Condé, on being informed of it, was beside himself with rage, and caused Duval to be arrested and condemned to the gallows.

Condé, so magnanimous alike to friends and enemies, in this instance behaved most brutally to his wife, and availed himself of this opportunity to get rid of her. Instead of defending her against a scandal which increased day by day from its very mystery, he himself heaped calumny upon her. He immediately left Chantilly for Paris, and without visiting the Princess his wife, went straight to Louis XIV and demanded a lettre de cachet against her. The King, however, with greater humanity, refused his request; upon which Condé returned to Chantilly in great wrath and contrived another scheme. He concocted a document under which the Princess consented to transfer all her property to her son during her lifetime; which deed he persuaded the Duke to present to his mother for signature. There was, however, a clause under which Her Highness was to retain a right of disposal over her jewels. By this scheme he proposed to induce her to retire altogether from the world without offering any defence.

Abandoned by her husband, robbed by her own son-who actually did persuade her to sign the above-mentioned instrument-the unfortunate Princess found herself no longer the courageous woman that she once had been. Instead of rebutting the wicked calumnies which attacked her honour, she merely endeavoured to save the unworthy Duval from the guillotine-a wretch who, under torture, uttered confessions compromising the Princess, which were, however, considered by the Parlement as inconclusive. Condé, furious with his wife as the cause of all this scandal, again demanded of Louis XIV a lettre de cachet and this time secured it. Her very generosity on behalf of the accused Duval was employed as a pretext for separation; and crushed and broken in health and spirits, she was transported one morning to the fortress of Chateauroux. In the presence of her son, the Duc d'Enghien, she said to the curé of Saint-Sulpice, who was her confessor: "This is the last time that I shall be able to talk to you, for I shall never return from the place where the King is pleased to send me. Nevertheless the confession which I have made to you will always prove my innocence." Embracing her son for the last time, she fainted away; and in that state she was conveyed to the carriage which was to transport her to the distant castle of Chateauroux, where she was to be buried for the remainder of her life. No news of the outer world ever reached her, and even her only child never visited her. This barbarous treatment, this cruel seclusion, brought on hallucinations, during which it is said that she was haunted by the image of her husband. Chateauroux, a gloomy fortress with numerous towers, inspired her with terror; and there were even rumours that she was ill-treated by her gaolers. Madame de Longueville was the only member of the Condé family who showed any pity for this poor, forlorn woman, and she expressed a wish to visit her; but Condé, unrelenting, refused her permission. He sent, however, Père Tixier to ascertain whether she had all she needed, who reported that she seemed to be in constant terror lest the food offered to her might contain poison. Through many long years she dragged on a sad life in this cruel solitude; and not even the news of her husband's death, whom she outlived by several years, reached her. Unrelenting to the last, Condé is said to have written on his death-bed a private letter to Louis XIV, desiring him as a favour never to release Claire-Clemence. When at last death delivered her, she was buried in the little church of St. Martin, within the precincts of Chateauroux. Only a few Franciscan monks and some poor people of the neighbourhood, whom out of her own scanty resources she had continually assisted, attended at her funeral. Neither her son nor any of her relations were present. When, in 1793, this little church was restored, her remains were thrown to the winds, and not one of her descendants took the trouble to raise a protest. More than a century had to pass before even one voice was raised in defence of this cruelly wronged woman. Louis Joseph de Bourbon, the father of the last Condé, in his Biography of his famous ancestor, could not refrain from a severe condemnation of the cruelty with which the "Hero" had treated the wife who had shown so much courage and loyalty on his behalf.

The noble-minded Duc d'Aumale, in his History of the Princes de Condé, is also full of sympathy and appreciation for poor Claire-Clemence; although he endeavours to excuse the great Condé's conduct towards her by explaining the repugnance he must have felt for Richelieu's niece.

A curious circumstance which seems still further to enhance the tragic fate which befell Claire-Clemence is the indifference shown to her by her own nearest relatives. At the very time when she was pining away in the fortress of Chateauroux, not only her husband but her son also seems to have felt no pity nor care for her. At Chantilly, where Anne de Gonzague reigned supreme, festivity followed festivity, and it was she who received the crowds of guests who thronged to visit that delectable resort.

The visits to Fontainebleau, where, after the death of the Regent, the King so often shut himself up for hours together, are described as being very tame compared with those to Chantilly, where the time passed far more agreeably. Turenne and the Maréchal de Grammont were frequently invited. Also such celebrated men of letters as Boileau, Racine, Corneille, La Fontaine, and Molière found their way thither; for Condé took a great personal interest in their works, and helped and encouraged them considerably. Boileau was a specially welcome guest at Chantilly. Once, however, during an animated conversation with the Prince, he contradicted him in some statement; but noticing an angry look upon His Highness's countenance, he became alarmed, and, making a profound bow, said: "Je serais toujours de l'avis de M. le Prince, surtout quand il aura tort"-a piece of tact which was much appreciated by his host, and disarmed his anger. Condé was also the first to recognise the greatness of Molière, and to protect him from his rivals. The Precieuses Ridicules were first acted at Chantilly, and the players were lodged there for over a week. When Louis XIV fell so passionately in love with Madame de Montespan, Molière wrote his poem Amphitryon, wherein he advises husbands to offer to Jupiter a share of their nuptial love-a work which he dedicated to the Prince de Condé. It was Boileau who brought Racine to Chantilly, and his tragedies were often performed there. Moreover, the Court itself paid prolonged visits to the Grand Condé, and thither thronged all the most distinguished personages in Europe. Madame de Sévigné, in her famous Letters, describes the "delices" of Chantilly; and descriptions of festive gatherings of all kinds held there are frequently to be found throughout the records of the period. The Gazette devoted many columns to details regarding pleasure and hunting parties and lunches at the Maison de Sylvie.

In the month of April 1671 Chantilly opened its portals to receive Louis XIV and his bride, the Infanta Maria Theresa. The Chateau itself was reserved for the Royal party, whilst the courtiers and the officers of the suite were lodged throughout the neighbouring villages. Sixty tables were served three times a day; and it was during this Royal visit that Vatel, the ma?tre d'h?tel, whose skill directed the whole, suddenly committed suicide because he was unable to provide the necessary fish on a fast-day. He was greatly mourned, especially by his master; but a substitute was soon found, who succeeded even better than his predecessor, so far eclipsing him, in fact, that his loss was soon forgotten.

Louis XIV was so charmed with this visit that he is said to have been inspired by Chantilly to create Versailles. "Mon cousin" he jokingly said to Condé when leaving, "il faut que vous me cédiez Chantilly." To which Condé promptly replied, "Chantilly est aux ordres du roi. J'espère que sa majesté me nommera son concierge."