ОH, LOVE: The Unjustly Slandered Queen and Prime Minister
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THE DREADFUL CARDINAL
Whether they want it or not, authors of historical novels create a new version of history — often one that bears little resemblance to reality. If the writer is truly gifted, this version may seem more convincing to many than the truth itself. There is no stopping the imagination of writers, especially when they recreate events about which little is actually known.
But what if a novelist insists that things happened exactly as they wrote, even when historians are certain it was otherwise? What can one do, especially if the author is as talented as Alexandre Dumas père, whose vivid retelling of history has earned more trust from readers than the work of professional historians?
In perhaps Dumas’ most popular work — the Musketeer trilogy — there appears a strikingly unambiguous portrayal of one of the key political figures of that era: Cardinal Mazarin. And what a revolting figure it is.
A grasping schemer, a miser who undermines the state he governs for personal gain, shamelessly cunning and cruel, a pathological coward with a vile temper who somehow managed to turn the entire noble class against him — in short, ugh! Could such a loathsome creature really have ruled the most powerful country in Europe for over a decade? Let’s try to find out…
DON’T MARRY OFF THE CHILDREN
It all began with yet another royal marriage alliance, forged in a futile attempt to reconcile France and Spain, whose enmity had lasted for centuries. No one asked the fourteen-year-old daughter of Philip III of Spain whether she wanted to marry the son of the legendary Henry IV of France — a gifted politician, decent commander, and fortunate lover of so many beautiful women that they likely wouldn’t all fit on a basketball court, even shoulder to shoulder.
The bride was, in fact, one week older than the groom — but the Franco-Spanish relations were already so strained that it was straight to the altar without questions — maybe this would help (it never had, and it didn’t then, either, but who ever believes that?). Given the young age of the couple, the marriage contract stipulated that intimacy would be permitted only after two years and off to the wedding they went — lest war break out again!
Frankly, if it hadn’t been for reasons of state, the bride might have thought twice about such a groom… From childhood, the future Louis XIII was known for his fondness for catching birds and butterflies in the palace gardens — only to pull the wings off the birds and tear the wings from the butterflies. When Henry IV learned of this, he thrashed his son with a heavy belt until the boy lost consciousness. To his outraged wife, he explained: as long as there is someone in the kingdom who can beat sense into the heir’s backside, let him do so, because once the boy becomes king, no one will be able to.
Incidentally, Henry was slightly mistaken — after his assassination by the religious fanatic Ravaillac on May 5, 1610, Louis was crowned king, and on September 5 (documented!), was once again whipped like a rented mule by his tutor, who simply didn’t know any other way to raise a nine-year-old. That was the groom chosen for Anne, a Spanish and Portuguese princess, and archduchess of Austria. «But say what you will, marry for love…» — and not just the king, but the queen too.
ENGLISH AFFECTION
Two years of nervous anticipation of unknown marital delights is no trivial matter. When Louis was finally granted permission to exercise his conjugal rights, he couldn’t manage it — yes, even a sixteen-year-old can be frightened that badly. After that, he didn’t dare try again for four more years — not only with his lawful wife but even with willing palace maids — he was simply too afraid…
It seems that during this time, his falconer Charles de Luynes explained to him that love doesn’t have to be directed only toward women. By the way, de Luynes himself had a legitimate wife, whom Dumas portrays under her second married name, following de Luynes’s death: none other than the infamous Duchess de Chevreuse. How was the young queen supposed to feel about all this? Clearly.
So her sudden affection for the Duke of Buckingham is quite understandable. Interestingly, Buckingham resembled Louis XIII not in appearance but in circumstance: King James I of England had once enticed Buckingham into the same kind of relationship that de Luynes had with Anne’s husband — and grew so fond of him that in just four years, Buckingham became a viscount, then an earl, a marquess, and finally a duke — one title per year. What difference does it make — king as lover of a duke, or a duke as lover of a king?
And so, at a court fête in Amiens, a loud cry came from a garden pavilion! Everyone rushed over and found Anne and Buckingham there—Anne tearful, Buckingham looking rather sheepish, which was not his usual state. Those who assume Anne lost her virginity in that pavilion are mistaken — by then Louis was already fulfilling his marital duties regularly, though without success: miscarriage after miscarriage. But if that cry was her first orgasm — especially given such «marital harmony» — well, that’s quite imaginable…
NOT THAT CARDINAL
Buckingham was soon assassinated, and in truth, he never solved Anne’s problems — if anything, he created more of them. It’s possible that another contender for Anne’s heart, Cardinal Richelieu, had a hand in Buckingham’s demise. But Anne’s time for cardinals had not yet come, and she rejected Richelieu — rudely and foolishly. It would have been wiser not to mock such a powerful man so openly.
She sent word to Richelieu that, to prove his feelings, she wanted him to dance a sarabande for her, castanets in hand, bells on his stockings, and wearing green pantaloons. Then she orchestrated a scene where a crowd of courtiers roared with laughter as the miserable, love-struck cardinal performed the lady’s wish.
That Anne survived such an insult and did not end up in a convent cell, a prison, or on the scaffold still amazes me. Perhaps Richelieu truly loved her too much to strike back. But he certainly made her life difficult, and more than once Anne came dangerously close to divorce, exile, or even conviction, especially considering that, in the art of intrigue, she was no match for Richelieu.
Anne’s situation was made worse by the fact that France still had no heir to the throne. And the Marquis de Cinq-Mars certainly couldn’t provide one to the king, despite being escorted to the royal bedchamber every evening at seven o’clock, his hands tenderly kissed.
THE ISLANDER
But the dynasty did not come to an end — most likely thanks to the visit of a papal envoy, who helped not with anything indecent (the newborn dauphin had the unmistakable Bourbon lower lip), but with wise advice on a position favorable for conception (some celibate men, it turns out, know remarkable things!).
Just a year apart, Anne gave birth to two sons, and almost immediately after that, Louis XIII died of a stomach illness — for which he had been given 210 enemas (as a child, when he was first subjected to one, he resisted so violently he had to be tied down — and later, as we see, he got used to it…). Richelieu had died shortly before him. Now the king was the young Louis XIV, with Anne serving as regent. But who would actually govern?
Napoleon was a Corsican, and after Richelieu’s death, it was a Sicilian who took the helm — France clearly favors islanders! Incidentally, this one left the country in far better shape than Napoleon did: not defeated in a hopeless war, but rich and powerful. Giulio Raimondo Mazzarino was a nobleman (stop believing Dumas — he was no commoner!) who rose rapidly through the ranks of the papal guard and was appointed nuncio to France.
In that position, he accomplished improbable feats, including once galloping through artillery fire with a scroll of peace proposals in hand, shouting: «Peace! Stop firing!» And they did stop, and he returned to Rome, then still hostile to France, as a secret agent of Richelieu.
Venetian envoy Segredo wrote to the Doge about him: «Giulio Mazarin, most illustrious sir, is pleasing and handsome in appearance; courteous, skillful, imperturbable, tireless, cautious, intelligent, prudent, discreet, cunning, eloquent, persuasive, and resourceful.” A desperate Anne stood no chance against such a remarkable man. Not to mention a curious detail first noted by Richelieu — Mazarin bore a striking resemblance to Buckingham.
EFFORTS TO DENY THE OBVIOUS
Some historians flat-out deny their relationship, seriously insisting: «Impossible! Anne was deeply religious — she would never have consented to a union with a man who wasn’t her husband.» Let’s recall one key detail: Cardinal Mazarin had never taken a vow of celibacy! He became a cardinal upon assuming the post of protonotary of the papal library; he wasn’t even a priest and skipped that formality entirely.
So, the secret marriage that Mazarin and Anne allegedly contracted — according to most of their contemporaries — was no sin. No vow, no prohibition! There are reports that they never remained alone in public without leaving a door ajar. But why should that prove they were «just friends» and nothing more? On the contrary — it seems more likely that such ostentatious adherence to decorum suggests they had something to hide.
Observers consistently noted how they treated each other with extraordinary courtesy and consideration — an unusual level of deference, given their difference in status. I’m afraid I’m not devout enough a Catholic to chalk it all up to etiquette alone.
In public, Mazarin was always tactful and gentle with Anne, outwardly entirely submissive — though there was no need to argue, since Anne never contradicted him. In private, however, he could tease her with a certain sly wit — for instance, claiming that if she ever landed in hell, the devils would torment her with linen sheets instead of batiste, since they could think of no greater suffering for her. The queen could have shut down such jests sharply — but instead, she tolerated them, as any proper wife of the time might.
A BLESSING FOR THE NATION
Everyone else had to endure him as well — he ruled France single-handedly, and despite their numbers, his many enemies failed to drive him out or have him killed. The very names of the uprisings aimed at him — The Cabal of the Importants, The Fronde of the Princes, The Parliamentary Fronde — say it all.
Only once was he actually expelled — but not for long. He returned and once again took the reins of government with a firm hand, steering the country as he saw fit. In the end, France emerged as the recognized arbiter of Europe, and French became the diplomatic language of the entire Christian world.
He also served as the chief tutor to the future «Sun King» — a role that might seem hard to praise, given that his pupil turned out to be authoritarian and despotic. But after all, a stepfather is often too soft on his stepson — and there’s another piece of evidence…
Only once did he firmly oppose Louis — when he refused to allow him to marry his own niece, Maria Mancini (arguably the only time Louis was persuaded to give up a woman he truly desired). Perhaps it was simply that Mazarin couldn’t condone a marriage between his stepson and his niece — too close a relation. So Maria was swiftly married off to Constable Colonna, and Louis was once again betrothed to a Spanish princess — yet another match that brought no real benefit to the realm…
POSTHUMOUS ATTACKS
By 1661, the cardinal had fallen gravely ill. When Anne came to visit him, he drew back the blanket, revealed his withered legs, and said sorrowfully: «Look, madam, these legs have lost their rest to bring peace to Europe.» Which suggests she had seen his bare legs before — and could compare? Shortly afterward, he died. Anne retired to a convent and outlived him by only a short time.
As often happens after death, those he had wronged (and there were many) began to denounce him with all their might, and Dumas gathered up every rumor and embellished it. As a result, most lovers of light and captivating reading (in other words, the vast majority) formed a poor opinion of their romance. But were they right?
It would have been better to celebrate a gifted statesman who also brought joy to a woman long deprived of it, to rejoice for the woman herself, and for two people who found true happiness, even if only in the twilight of their years. People deserve tenderness; love is as strong as death (it’s in the Bible!), and it may punish those who heap undeserved shame upon it. May you all find happiness — and may the gossip of others never touch your love.
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