Ballet of the Pleiades
“Gentlemen, although I was not born into this country, I was still brought here so that I might serve both the crown and its people. Have I not preformed these duties to the utmost of mine abilities? Have I not served with both dignity and honor? I have given England my eldest son, and he shall one day be your king. To this great nation I leave innumerable treasures as part of my wedding plate that future Queens of England shall wear to reflect the glory of this nation. Yet most importantly, I have lain at the feet of this great kingdom that of my worldly goods, movable or not, to defray the expenses of governing. I alone financed all charges and expenses during the tumultuous exile. I have rendered a great service unto this nation, and find it unfair to be repaid in cruel remarks unbecoming of this body. I am not your sovereign; I am a servant before all others, but lest you forget, I am still a prince, granddaughter of the great Henry the Great. Your own great monarch, that Queen Elizabeth once said wise words that I shall repeat to you today—It is monstrous that the feet should direct the head. For if you want a queen as willing and able as no other, and then you understand that there is a cost and that it must be paid. I have financed England for long enough. It is time now that she finances me. For if a nation desires a queen, then they are going to have to pay for her!” – Anne d’Orléans, Queen of England speaking to a Parliamentary Delegation upon learning that her expenses and supposed extravagance were being discussed in Parliament.
Anne d’Orléans in French court dress, painted by Louis Ferdinand Elle probably on the occasion of her engagement.
Chapter I. An Uncertain Condition
“Were I to marry that boy I should have to sell everything that I possess and go to war! I should not be able to help it. I could not rest until I had staked my all on the chance of reconquering his kingdom! But as I had always lived in luxury, and as I had always been free from care, the thought of such an uncertain condition troubled me.”
— Le Grande Mademoiselle, Anne d’Orléans, regarding a potential marriage to Charles II, at that time Prince of Wales
It was the spring of 1646 when Prince Charles of Wales left Britain for exile on the continent. In fear of his safety, the poor performance of the royalists had motivated the prince, then sixteen, to embark on the journey from Pendennis Castle in Falmouth, Cornwall, to France by the way of the Isles of Scilly and Jersey. There were numerous reasons for the Prince of Wales to seek refuge in France—through his mother, Henrietta Maria (who had arrived in France in 1644), the Prince of Wales was first cousin to the young King of France. Many royalists had escaped abroad with the tide turning against King Charles, and France made an attractive destination for those still attached to the cause of the House of Stuart to raise funds and troops. The French court was keen to shelter their kinswoman Henrietta Maria, also welcoming the Prince of Wales with open arms. Indeed, Queen Henrietta Maria had not dithered in her two years in France, having established a court in exile at the Château of St. Germain-en-Laye and appointing the eccentric Kenelm Digby, a Catholic, as her chancellor.
From the time of her arrival into France, Henrietta Maria did not give herself time to rest. Ever a daughter of the great Henry of Navarre, the queen threw herself into the cause of her husband and the royalist party, pawning her jewels and plate to finance her husband’s armies. Come into the country with great jubilation, Henrietta Maria was feted and flattered, with Cardinal Mazarin declaring that she would draw an income of 1,200 francs per diem, yet slowly the promises and flattery faded, and Henrietta Maria was faced with the harsh truth that she was, in a fact, a beggar. She was truly a royal without a home, and without the ability to finance the life to which she was accustomed. Her jewels went towards financing her husband’s cause in England while she in France was trailed only by debts which she could not afford to pay. Her court, tiny in comparison to that of the French King could not pay the baker nor its domestic staff, with the famed memoirist Madame de Motteville writing that a single gold cup was all that remained of Henrietta Maria’s plate, the rest having went to finance the royalist armies in Britain.
Yet despite the poor financial situation of the English exiles, the Queen of England acted with great zeal, and her biggest goal at the time of her son’s arrival in France? To bring about a marriage between her son and her niece, Anne Marie d’Orléans, the Duchesse de Montpensier and better known as La Grande Mademoiselle on account of the enormous fortune she had inherited from her mother at five days old—which included five duchies, the Dauphinate of Auvergne, and even the sovereign Principality of Joinville. It was no surprise that the Queen of England looked favorably upon her niece. Given the poor financial situation of the royalist party, Mademoiselle’s vast estates and fortunes would be more than useful in uplifting the royalists; aside from the financial incentives, politically the potential marriage might sway the Regent Anne of Austria and Cardinal Mazarin to commit themselves more fully to the cause of the Stuarts, for while Mademoiselle was not a daughter of a king, she was still a granddaughter of one and part of the House of Bourbon.
The proposed marriage was highly popular with both Anne of Austria and the Cardinal Mazarin. In a rare show of unity, even the father of Mademoiselle, Gaston d’Orléans was supportive of the match, although he stated that he could not force her into marriage. The largest obstacle was that of the Duchesse de Montpensier herself—the Prince of Wales was not yet the charming womanizer that he would become wildly known as; in 1646 he was still a somewhat awkward youth who was three years Mademoiselle’s junior, with slapdash French that required a translator—for although he often understood what was being said to him, command of the language did not come easily to him. Indeed, at their very first meeting, the Prince of Wales was unable to to articulate properly his situation to the Regent of France, Anne of Austria, and required the use of a translation.
There were more reasons for la Grande Mademoiselle to look upon this young man who might one day before the future King of England with disdain. As he currently was—a fact that his own mother seemed to gloss over, were the current state of affairs in England. Charles I was currently in the hands of the Scottish Presbyterians (who unbeknownst to him and the royalist party, would soon turn him over to the English Parliament in exchange for a mere £100,000) and royalists in disarray. If there was anyone desperate for Mademoiselle’s hand in marriage, would it not be the Prince of Wales? Despite his title and lineage, the Duchess of Montpensier had right to be suspicious of her cousin’s interest. Should they wed, she would certainly be footing the bill for his adventures—a calculated risk that could pay off, or leave her in penury. Being a woman of expensive tastes and having lived in luxury her entire life, Anne d’Orléans did not look to make her choice lightly. She could end up Queen of England—but it was a gamble, too.
Mademoiselle in this period also had other ideas for her marital state. Despite the advances of Charles, she certainly saw a grander match in the person of Ferdinand III, the erstwhile Holy Roman Emperor. The year was 1648; his first wife Maria Anna of Spain had died in childbirth. He was presently remarried to Maria Leopoldine of Austria, who was pregnant. Mademoiselle was not about to let something hold her back. She merely shrugged; the empress was pregnant, after all. There was a great possibility of her dying in child birth, after all, and then she would be free to marry Ferdinand III. The Habsburg line was sickly, and the Duchesse de Montpensier was egged on by tall tales that the courts of Germany, and amongst them all, Vienna, desired that the emperor take her as wife. There were even rumors that could no match be negotiated to the emperor himself, there was certainly the idea of marriage to the Archduke Leopold, who was as of yet unmarried. With the Thirty Years War winding down, and general pro-French feeling amongst some German princes, this certainly seemed like a possibility to the dazzled Mademoiselle. As the granddaughter of the great Henry IV, she certainly saw herself as august marriage material and desired nothing but the very best. The possibility of becoming empress greatly outweighed marriage to the Prince of Wales, especially when such a match might doom her to a life of exile and funding exploits to reclaim a crown that she might never grasp.
And yet this supposed match desired by Germany never came to fruition. The Empress delivered a child—a son, and she survived the ordeal as well[1]. Anne saw her hopes of marriage to the emperor dashed; burning letters she intended to send with one of her trusted retainers, a courtier known as Saujon, to Vienna, she was decided that none should know how serious she took the potential match with the Habsburgs lest she be accused of treason. Besides, there still remained Prince Charles Stuart, who had lately remained at the court, his attentions towards Mademoiselle never wavering, even in the face of the rumors of a proposed imperial marriage. Although he was certainly was no great catch in his present state, his French had certainly improved to the point of conversation, and it was too Mademoiselle’s great delight that he seemed quite informed regarding the political situation in England. It was certainly a bonus that the Prince of Wales could boast several bawdy and amorous tales in French, the type that were popular in polite society at that time and which the Duchesse of Montpensier greatly enjoyed[2].
La Grande Mademoiselle was being moved closer and closer towards a state of matrimony with the Prince of Wales, and it was ardently supported by the Duke of Orléans as well as Anne of Austria and Queen Henrietta Maria. While Mazarin had cooled on the idea of the match, perhaps seeking to keep Mademoiselle in a permanent unmarried state or wishing to see how the winds blew in England, he was soon forced to give way as negotiations were opened up for the marriage. Saujon, one of Madamoiselle’s ardent champions and near arbeiter in the disastrous affair regarding the emperor was appointed a negotiator to the betrothal.
The main sticking point regarded la grande mademoiselle’s immense fortune, both in landed and mobile property. Her father, Gaston d’Orléans had produced no living male issue, and it was natural for the French court to look with suspicions such great wealth passing into foreign hands; indeed, Anne had not yet reached her formal majority, and as such her finances were still managed by the Duke of Orléans. Negotiations hammered out that the Principality of Dombes, amongst some pieces of property would pass immediately to Philippe, the Duc d’Anjou as a condition of the match, with the promise that some others would pass into his hands, or god willing, any male issue that her father Gaston d’Orléans might have. The remainder of property held by Anne d’Orléans would remain her own private property to pass onto her heirs as she should desired. While the renunciation of part of her properties were still a bitter pill to swallow, but Madamoiselle would still remain in control of the vast majority of her fortune and lands—and with it came a chance for the crown of England, too. Negotiations were eventually settled for the wedding to be held on Feburary 11th, 1649, with Gaston d’Orléans—or rather, Madamoiselle, footing the bill for the splendid to affair to be build at the Louvre in Paris.
Yet splendid affair imagined by the bride to be did not come to pass. Charles I, the King of England had escaped from Parliamentary grasp in late 1647, and in a secret treaty with the Scots had agreed to establish Presbyterianism throughout England if the Scottish army invaded. This was pulled off in conjunction with uprisings in Southern England, yet the second stage of the civil war was just as dismal as the first, with the New Model Army putting down uprisings ruthlessly whilst the Scots were defeated at the Battle of Preston, obliterating royalist hopes of victory. Charles was forced to resume negotiations with Parliament, yet these was derailed by the commander of the New Model Army, Oliver Cromwell, whose Bloody Purge reduced Parliament to a mere rump dominated by Parliamentarians. Under their auspices, it was decided to try Charles I for treason—and on January 30th, 1649, the King of England was executed outside the Palace of Whitehall.
News of his death quickly reached Paris—despite the grave tragedy, Queen Henrietta Maria, ever devoted to her husband was insistent that the marriage continue as planned. More than ever, the royalist party needed the funds of Mademoiselle. While the wedding would now be more subdued, Henrietta Maria bequeathed what remained of her plate to her niece, insisting that as Queen of England, she would need to look the part. Charles and la grande mademoiselle married in the early hours of February 11th, 1649, solemnized in a Catholic service, to the dismay of more hardline Protestant factions of the royalists in exile, followed by an Anglican service, which Anne d’Orléans deigned to attend, winning her support within some circles.
England now had a new king, Charles II, and now a new queen, Anne Marie Louise d’Orléans. Yet they were truly a royal couple without a kingdom, and as news of the marriage became widespread, caused great interest in England, where many looked upon the match with scorn, seeing Charles contaminated by the very Catholic and Absolutist ideals that had brought his father down. It remained to be seen if Charles could regain his patrimony, but with the wealth of his new wife behind him, and perhaps even that of France, he was most definitely seen as a credible threat by the newly established Commonwealth in England.
[1] POD. Although the biggest reason la Grande Mademoiselle never took Charles’ match was because of his attitude and the possibility of wasting her fortune to fund his restoration, she was also greatly convinced she had a shot at marrying Ferdinand III. It’s unknown which of his wives she was referring too as his first two wives both died in childbirth, although it was probably the second; nevertheless the match was never serious. The survival will certainly turn Mademoiselle towards other matches, and with Charles being more proactive, the match goes through.
[2]Another small POD. Anne was not won over by Charles at first and his attitude had essentially turned her completely away from the marriage, although his station in life certainly complicated things.
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