DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.19775#0102
THE GARDENS OF ITALY.
as hardie et rude, became soft and gay as
everyone tried to please her, and burnt incense
before the rising star. It was in the midst or her
happy dream that the Cardinal and Queen-mother
urged on the King an alliance with the House of
Savoy. With a very ill grace the King allowed a
non-committing meeting with the Duchess of Savoy
and her daughter to he arranged at Lyons, and
Maria rode with the Court. The meeting had
no result, and all could see the reason. That
was Maria's hour of triumph. The King never
left her. He rode by her side, himself saw to
the choice of her horse and the safety of her
saddle, surrounding her with an atmosphere of
love and tenderness, and after long, animated
conversations with her, showed himself coldly
averse to the proposed marriage. It was on the
return from this expedition that he formally asked
Mazarin for his niece's hand. Mazarin, who had
the interests of France sincerely at heart, was
uncompromising in his refusal ; but the King
declared his devotion to Maria herself and his
determination that she should be his wife and
Queen of France. It was now that he bought
for her the famous string of pearls, which
belonged to the exiled Queen of England, with
which she never parted during her life, and which
may be seen to-day on the neck of her descen-
dant, Princess Rospigliosi.
The Queen and Cardinal were absolutely
determined against such a politically undesirable
marriage, and Maria and her youngest sister were
exiled to a convent at Brouage. She parted from
the King with the memorable words that Racine
puts into the mouth of Berenice : " Ah Sire, vous
etes roi ; vous pleurez et je pars." From Brouage
she kept up a long and ardent correspondence
with Louis, even after he had been persuaded
into a betrothal with the Infanta of Spain.
That Maria was his truest, purest love is not
to be doubted. She had something proud, farouche,
chaste in her nature, which then and always
preserved her from any less honourable connection.
The King, urged on by public exigency, married
the Inf; nta, and Maria suffered terribly from dis-
appointed love and from the mortification of her
position. She listened now to her uncle's wish to
arrange a marriage for her, and the young Prince
Charles of Lorraine was first thought of. Her
enemies persuaded the King, on his return from
Spain, that she had already transferred her affec-
tions to the Prince, and the unhappy girl was
met by him with a cold contempt which aggravated
her sorrow.
The King himself had left his dull, sandy-
haired bride on the homeward journey from Spain,
to make a pilgrimage to Brouage, to sleep in the
room Maria had occupied so long, and to weep
bitterly through the night over her loss. The
Cardinal decided that it was too dangerous to let
her remain in France, and a marriage was speedily
arranged with the young and handsome Colonna,
who was attracted by the account of her charms
and the rich dowry given by her uncle. She had
never seen him, but all fates seeming alike, she
allowed herself to be married by proxy, and set out
to Milan to meet him. Before departing, however,
she had a violent and agitating interview with the
King, in which they poured out all their hearts,
and Louis endeavoured to persuade her to throw
aside all claims and to remain with him ; but the
woman who had hoped to be his wife and Queen
refused to accept such widely differing terms. She
left Paris, taking with her his promise of lite-long
protection, and thus closed the first act of Maria
Mancini's stormy life.
The second opens on her arrival at Palazzo
Colonna. She had been attacked during her
journey by brain fever, and had lain ill for some
time at Loreto, and as she recovered she was
brought by easy stages to her new home by the
husband who had met her at Milan. The great
reception prepared had had to be abandoned, but
all the household was drawn up to welcome her.
She confesses that her first feeling at si<rht of the
palace was one of disappointment, the courtyard
not being particularly imposing. When, however,
she passed into those spacious halls, splendidly
decorated by Pintoricchio, the Carracci, and Guido
Reni, cooled with fountains and hung with fine
pictures, she was much struck, and, in spite of her
weakness, was full of admiration of the rooms
prepared for her. She was so tired that she had
to go at once to bed", but she sent to the Constable
to beg him to share her meal ; so he dined by her
bedside, and she seemed more kindly disposed to
him than she had yet shown herself.
As her health reasserted itself, she received
the visits of all the great Roman ladies. Her
husband allowed her to live with the freedom of
French society, much to the vexation of other
Roman husbands, whose wives were accustomed
to lead almost cloistered lives. Prince Colonna
surrounded her with care and attentions, and she
has left a charming picture of their amusements.
One hot evening he asked her to walk to see a
lake. As they turned a corner, they found them-
selves in Piazza Navona, which had been flooded
and illuminated and covered with gay boats, their
flags Hying and some having musicians on board.
A larger one, a bower of dowers and lights, awaited
the princess ; a concert, fireworks, and waterworks
were organised to remind her of the gay fetes she
had left at Fontainebleau.
The Constable, who at this time adored his
beautiful young wife, was always planning some-
thing new. As the heat of the day declined, he
would take her in a light carriage, drawn at a
gallop by six matchless barbs, to the Villa Borghese,
which Prince Borghese had lent him. Strolling in
those wonderful gardens, listening to soft music,
Maria drank in all the intoxication of the Roman
nights. She was only twenty, and, with a charming
and devoted lover whispering in her ear, her warm
( 93 )
as hardie et rude, became soft and gay as
everyone tried to please her, and burnt incense
before the rising star. It was in the midst or her
happy dream that the Cardinal and Queen-mother
urged on the King an alliance with the House of
Savoy. With a very ill grace the King allowed a
non-committing meeting with the Duchess of Savoy
and her daughter to he arranged at Lyons, and
Maria rode with the Court. The meeting had
no result, and all could see the reason. That
was Maria's hour of triumph. The King never
left her. He rode by her side, himself saw to
the choice of her horse and the safety of her
saddle, surrounding her with an atmosphere of
love and tenderness, and after long, animated
conversations with her, showed himself coldly
averse to the proposed marriage. It was on the
return from this expedition that he formally asked
Mazarin for his niece's hand. Mazarin, who had
the interests of France sincerely at heart, was
uncompromising in his refusal ; but the King
declared his devotion to Maria herself and his
determination that she should be his wife and
Queen of France. It was now that he bought
for her the famous string of pearls, which
belonged to the exiled Queen of England, with
which she never parted during her life, and which
may be seen to-day on the neck of her descen-
dant, Princess Rospigliosi.
The Queen and Cardinal were absolutely
determined against such a politically undesirable
marriage, and Maria and her youngest sister were
exiled to a convent at Brouage. She parted from
the King with the memorable words that Racine
puts into the mouth of Berenice : " Ah Sire, vous
etes roi ; vous pleurez et je pars." From Brouage
she kept up a long and ardent correspondence
with Louis, even after he had been persuaded
into a betrothal with the Infanta of Spain.
That Maria was his truest, purest love is not
to be doubted. She had something proud, farouche,
chaste in her nature, which then and always
preserved her from any less honourable connection.
The King, urged on by public exigency, married
the Inf; nta, and Maria suffered terribly from dis-
appointed love and from the mortification of her
position. She listened now to her uncle's wish to
arrange a marriage for her, and the young Prince
Charles of Lorraine was first thought of. Her
enemies persuaded the King, on his return from
Spain, that she had already transferred her affec-
tions to the Prince, and the unhappy girl was
met by him with a cold contempt which aggravated
her sorrow.
The King himself had left his dull, sandy-
haired bride on the homeward journey from Spain,
to make a pilgrimage to Brouage, to sleep in the
room Maria had occupied so long, and to weep
bitterly through the night over her loss. The
Cardinal decided that it was too dangerous to let
her remain in France, and a marriage was speedily
arranged with the young and handsome Colonna,
who was attracted by the account of her charms
and the rich dowry given by her uncle. She had
never seen him, but all fates seeming alike, she
allowed herself to be married by proxy, and set out
to Milan to meet him. Before departing, however,
she had a violent and agitating interview with the
King, in which they poured out all their hearts,
and Louis endeavoured to persuade her to throw
aside all claims and to remain with him ; but the
woman who had hoped to be his wife and Queen
refused to accept such widely differing terms. She
left Paris, taking with her his promise of lite-long
protection, and thus closed the first act of Maria
Mancini's stormy life.
The second opens on her arrival at Palazzo
Colonna. She had been attacked during her
journey by brain fever, and had lain ill for some
time at Loreto, and as she recovered she was
brought by easy stages to her new home by the
husband who had met her at Milan. The great
reception prepared had had to be abandoned, but
all the household was drawn up to welcome her.
She confesses that her first feeling at si<rht of the
palace was one of disappointment, the courtyard
not being particularly imposing. When, however,
she passed into those spacious halls, splendidly
decorated by Pintoricchio, the Carracci, and Guido
Reni, cooled with fountains and hung with fine
pictures, she was much struck, and, in spite of her
weakness, was full of admiration of the rooms
prepared for her. She was so tired that she had
to go at once to bed", but she sent to the Constable
to beg him to share her meal ; so he dined by her
bedside, and she seemed more kindly disposed to
him than she had yet shown herself.
As her health reasserted itself, she received
the visits of all the great Roman ladies. Her
husband allowed her to live with the freedom of
French society, much to the vexation of other
Roman husbands, whose wives were accustomed
to lead almost cloistered lives. Prince Colonna
surrounded her with care and attentions, and she
has left a charming picture of their amusements.
One hot evening he asked her to walk to see a
lake. As they turned a corner, they found them-
selves in Piazza Navona, which had been flooded
and illuminated and covered with gay boats, their
flags Hying and some having musicians on board.
A larger one, a bower of dowers and lights, awaited
the princess ; a concert, fireworks, and waterworks
were organised to remind her of the gay fetes she
had left at Fontainebleau.
The Constable, who at this time adored his
beautiful young wife, was always planning some-
thing new. As the heat of the day declined, he
would take her in a light carriage, drawn at a
gallop by six matchless barbs, to the Villa Borghese,
which Prince Borghese had lent him. Strolling in
those wonderful gardens, listening to soft music,
Maria drank in all the intoxication of the Roman
nights. She was only twenty, and, with a charming
and devoted lover whispering in her ear, her warm
( 93 )