Виктория Холт - Louis the Well-Beloved

Fleury had arranged that there should be lessons in the mornings and evenings, so that there would be an interval when the boy might amuse himself with his favourite games and pastimes. Important subjects, such as writing, Latin and history, appeared on the curriculum every day; others were spread over the week. Fleury planned to have a printing press set up so that Louis might be taught typography; military science was not forgotten and, as it was Fleury’s wish that this should be of a practical nature, he planned to have the Musketeers and the King’s Own Regiment perform manoeuvres in which the King could take part.

Thus being educated became a matter of absorbing interest to the boy, who proved to be of more than average intelligence.

There were other matters to interest him. He formed a friendship with one of his pages, the Marquis de Calvière, and these two spent many happy hours playing games and taking their toys to pieces and putting them together again. Louis developed an interest in cooking, and he enjoyed making sweetmeats and presenting them to Madame de Ventadour, Uncle Philippe, Villeroi, Fleury – any with whom he felt particularly pleased.

It was impossible to be bored with so much of interest happening and it was not long before Louis discovered the intrigue which was going on.

Monsieur de Villeroi feared and hated someone. Louis wondered whom.

One day as they were making sweetmeats while the Duc de Villeroi was enjoying a siesta, Louis asked young Calvière if he had noticed it.

‘Look,’ said the King. ‘This is to be an Easter egg. For whom shall it be? My Governor? Uncle Philippe? Or Maman Ventadour? Or Monsieur de Fleury?’

‘That,’ said Calvière, ‘is for you to decide.’

‘Monsieur de Villeroi locks up my bread and butter,’ Louis announced.

The page nodded.

‘And my handkerchiefs,’ went on Louis. ‘They are kept in a box with a triple lock.’

‘He is afraid,’ said Calvière.

‘Of what?’

‘He is afraid of poisoners.’

‘He is afraid someone will poison me !’ said the King. ‘Who?’

Calvière lifted his shoulders. ‘That egg is not the right shape,’ he said.

‘It is,’ said Louis.

‘It is not.’

‘It is.’

Louis picked up a wooden spoon and would have brought it down on the page’s head but Calvière jerked up his hand and the spoon hit Louis in the face. In a moment the two boys were wrestling on the floor.

Suddenly they stopped and went back to the bench. ‘I shall make fondants,’ said Calvière.

‘My egg shall be for Uncle Philippe. I love him best today.’

‘I know why,’ said Calvière laughing. ‘It is because Monsieur de Villeroi made you dance before the ambassadors.’

Louis stood still, remembering. It was true. The Maréchal had made him strut before the foreign ambassadors. ‘What do you think of the King’s beauty?’ he had asked. ‘Look at his beautifully proportioned figure and his beautiful hair.’ Then Villeroi had asked the King to run round the room, that the ambassadors should see how fleet he was; and to dance for them that they might see how graceful. ‘See! It might be his great-grandfather dancing before you. It is said that none danced as gracefully as Louis XIV. That is because they had not seen Louis XV.’

‘I like making sweetmeats better than dancing,’ said Louis. ‘Uncle Philippe does not ask me to dance. He laughs at old Villeroi. Yes, my egg shall be for Uncle Philippe.’

And as the two boys continued their sweet-making the page said: ‘I wonder who Villeroi thinks is trying to poison you.’

They began enumerating all the people of the Court until they tired of it; and when the egg was completed and was being tied about with a blue riband Uncle Philippe entered the room. As Louis leaped into his arms and was carried shoulder-high about the apartment he called to the page that Uncle Philippe should certainly have the Easter egg, for he was his favourite person today.

Uncle Philippe had brought Easter eggs for Louis who immediately shared one of them with Calvière, while the Duc d’Orléans listened with amusement to their comparisons of other people’s sweetmeats with their own.

Later, when Uncle Philippe had left, Louis showed the eggs to Villeroi, who seized them at once and said they must be examined.

‘We have already eaten one,’ Louis told him; and Villeroi’s face turned white with fear.

Louis did not notice anything strange in this, at the time, but later when he was writing in his book in Latin his mind wandered from the sentiments he was expressing.

‘The King,’ he wrote, ‘and his people are bound together by ties of mutual obligation. The people undertake to render to the King respect, obedience, succour, service and to speak that which is true. The King promises his people vigilance, protection, peace, justice and the maintenance of an equable and unclouded disposition.’

It was all very boring, and it was small wonder that his attention strayed.

Suddenly he began to chuckle. Papa Villeroi thinks Uncle Philippe is trying to poison me! he told himself.

It seemed indescribably funny; one of those wild adventures which took place in the imagination and which he and Calvière liked to construct; it was like a game; it must be a game. He wondered if Uncle Philippe knew.

It was impossible not to be aware of the awe which he, a ten-year-old boy, was able to inspire in those about him. There was not one of these dignified men of his household or of the Regency Council who did not take great pains to propitiate him. This afforded the King secret amusement, but he was intelligent enough not to overestimate his power. He knew that in small matters he might have his way, but in the larger issues – as he had seen at the time of his parting with Madame de Ventadour – these important men about him would make the final decision.

He had enjoyed watching, with Calvière, the feud between his uncle Philippe and his governor Villeroi. The two boys entered into the game. When they were alone, Calvière would leap forward whenever Louis was about to eat anything, snatch it from him, eat a piece, and either pretend to drop dead at the King’s feet or declare: ‘All is well. We have foiled the poisoners this time, Sire.’

Sometimes Louis played the page. It added variety to the game.

The Duc d’Orléans noticed the secret amusement of the boys, the looks which passed between them, and he knew that he and Villeroi were the cause of them.

Orléans wondered then what Villeroi had hinted to Louis. It could have been nothing blatantly detrimental, for Louis was as affectionate as ever towards him. But Villeroi had conveyed something, and Orléans was doubly on the alert, and was determined to take the little King out of the care of Villeroi as much as possible. Villeroi in his turn was aware of the additional alertness in the attitude of Orléans, so he increased his watchfulness.

Villeroi was determined to make another Grand Monarque of his charge. Often, instead of the handsome little boy, he saw the handsome King. He wanted young Louis to follow slavishly in his great-grandfather’s footsteps.

The boy must perform a ballet, for Louis Quatorze had excelled at the ballet. Everyone declared that the child’s dancing reminded them so much of great Louis that it was as though he lived again in his great-grandson. That delighted Villeroi.

The child must meet the people on every possible occasion. When the cheers and cries of ‘ Vive notre petit Roi ’ echoed in his ears, Villeroi declared he was supremely happy. He insisted that his little charge ride with him through the streets of Paris and appear frequently on the balconies.