The Sun King Conspiracy (30 page)

A
S soon as spring came round, Anne of Austria liked to withdraw to the Château de Dampierre. She delighted in long daily walks in the park, ending them in the magnificent rose garden. This year she was allowing herself a short siesta each afternoon, doubtless an indication of the fatigue which came with age. That morning, the Queen Mother was reading in her boudoir with the window open so as to savour the scents of the garden and enjoy the May sunshine. She was wearing one of the black gowns she had worn ever since the death of Jules Mazarin. With the coming of old age, the King’s mother had rejected everything that might appear too ostentatious. The manner in which her son had distanced her from power caused her a great deal of suffering. She, who had held this dear Kingdom of France in her hands, missed affairs of State.

‘Monsieur Gabriel de Pontbriand,’ came the sudden announcement from one of the Cardinal’s former servants, who had remained in her service.

The young man entered, sweeping the ground three times with the feather on his hat in an expansive, elegant movement which he had now perfected. He was dressed in an immaculate white shirt, and his favourite boots of fawn-coloured leather reached up to his knees, giving him a military appearance.

What a handsome boy!
thought the Queen Mother, reaching out her hand to receive her visitor’s kiss.

‘Welcome to Dampierre, Monsieur de Pontbriand,’ said Anne of Austria engagingly. ‘You are welcome here as a friend. A recommendation by the charming young Mademoiselle de La Vallière is my equivalent of a safe-conduct,’ added the King’s mother, indicating an armchair covered in sunshine-yellow velvet.

Impressed by the sovereign’s dignified and rather severe expression, Gabriel tried not to display any sign of his anxiety.

‘Majesty, the generosity of your welcome warms my heart. I wished to meet you in memory of my father, André de Pontbriand, who lived in London,’ Gabriel began, looking directly at the Queen Mother, who evidently wondered where he was heading.

‘London is an extremely beautiful city,’ interrupted the sovereign with a sigh, suddenly lost in her memories.

‘Before he died, my father asked me to deliver these papers to you, so that they would not fall into the hands of anyone who might misuse them.’ Gabriel reached into the leather satchel he wore across his body, and extracted a bundle of papers tied with a red ribbon.

Anne of Austria frowned questioningly. She slowly untied the ribbon and began to read without a word. Then she turned white and scanned each parchment feverishly.

‘Young man do you know … do you know … But how did your father manage to procure these? Do you have any idea of the significance of these papers?’ asked the Queen Mother, studying the young man’s face.

‘I do not, Majesty,’ replied Gabriel, lying with aplomb. ‘All I know is the myriad troubles which have afflicted me ever since they came into my possession. I have the feeling that those who seek these papers are willing to do anything to obtain them!’

‘Who, other than you and your father, could have got hold of these papers, young man?’

‘No one, Majesty, I guarantee it. No one!’

‘How can you be so sure?’ replied the Queen Mother, her face clouding suddenly.

Gabriel decided to risk telling Anne of Austria what he knew and the manner in which he had obtained the papers. He recounted in detail the attacks which had befallen him. He revealed the circumstances of his father’s death, but without mentioning the assassins and their leader. He also omitted any mention of the other documents.

‘I thank you for your frankness, my child,’ said the Queen Mother when he had finished. ‘The existence of these papers must remain forever secret. Your father no doubt paid with his life for possessing them. For your own safety, I advise you to forget all about this!’

Gabriel rose to his feet and bowed to the King’s mother, moved by the sovereign’s dignity and self-control; and she got up herself to accompany the visitor to the door, which was most unusual.

‘My boy,’ she said, her voice suddenly affectionate, ‘I shall not forget what you have done. From now on you may consider yourself under my protection. Please tell Mademoiselle de La Vallière that I am infinitely grateful to her for sending you to me.’

‘Dare I ask, Majesty, if in your kindness you might extend your protection to Mademoiselle de La Vallière? In truth I fear more for her future than for my own,’ he replied sombrely. ‘I have reasons to believe that powerful individuals, some of them close to you, are plotting her downfall.’

‘Great heavens, Monsieur, what are you saying? Close to me, what do you mean?’

‘Olympe Mancini, Majesty,’ Gabriel replied quietly.

The Queen looked thoughtful.

‘Very well, Monsieur. Your request is granted. I shall agree to
what you have asked. It’s the least I can do in consideration of what I owe you. But do you have no concern for yourself?’

Gabriel bowed again but did not answer. He left the room with a lighter heart, telling himself that he had been right to take this course of action.

Anne of Austria asked to be left alone. She walked slowly back to her armchair and picked up the bundle of papers. One by one, she read through them.

Everything is here!
she told herself.
The dogs have been thwarted, thanks to the courage and fidelity of the Pontbriands.

The King’s mother got to her feet and walked towards the fireplace. The hearth was empty on this fine spring day. Anne of Austria rang for a servant and asked for a fire to be lit. She watched patiently as the servant laid the fire, then slowly approached and threw the documents into the flames. Then she took a few steps back.

As the deed of her marriage to Cardinal Mazarin and her letter admitting the King’s parentage burned in the fireplace at the Château de Dampierre, the Queen Mother wept silently.

‘R
OSES make loyal friends, Monsieur Colbert, and silent companions.’

Colbert attempted a gracious smile, and smelt the flower which Anne of Austria cut and held out to him.

‘Loyalty is in fact a quality I’m extremely fond of, Madame,’ he replied with a bow.

Slowly, Anne of Austria and the new Steward of Finance strolled through the gardens personally designed by the Queen Mother, which lay in the shadow of the tower containing her apartments.

‘But one which has no place in this meeting which you have taken it upon yourself to arrange, Monsieur Colbert?’ replied the sovereign. ‘Surely you have not deserted your offices and come to visit an old woman just to gaze at flowers and stay silent.’

‘Madame!’ exclaimed Colbert. ‘I am neither a flatterer nor a man of fine words, and it is not my habit to try to please anyone except my sovereign or the Cardinal – God rest his soul. Perhaps you are suspicious of me because you misunderstand my character. Then I shall come straight to the point. The reason I wished to see you without delay and without witnesses, Madame, was to inform you of grave matters concerning State security and the instructions that were passed down to me by the Cardinal.’

Colbert paused, hoping to see anxiety or at least surprise in the Queen’s eyes. He saw neither.

‘The Cardinal, Madame, wished to reveal to me certain secrets, and shortly before his death told me that he was worried about the disappearance of documents that contained them. Must I be more precise, Madame?’

‘Meaning, Monsieur?’ said the Queen, with a hint of emotion in her voice.

Is it possible that Jules talked?
she thought.

‘Well, Madame, I have found those documents. I believe they were stolen from the Cardinal’s library at the same time as other equally confidential papers, at the behest of certain individuals who wish to gain control of the Kingdom’s political affairs, who act on behalf of highly placed persons …’

‘And what else, Monsieur?’

‘Roses are dumb, Madame. In their presence I therefore dare utter the name of Superintendent Fouquet, although in truth I am not yet in a position to prove it. I say “not yet”, for the evidence is accumulating.’

‘Now then, supposing you had such documents, Monsieur, would not your most urgent task then be to give them to me?’ went on the Queen in a distant voice, trying to mask her suspicion.

Colbert hesitated for a second before replying.

‘I have to say that it seems wiser to me to retain them in the first instance. With the sole intention, of course, of protecting them before handing them back to Your Highness as soon as matters are closed; and obviously with the hope that I won’t have to use them to prove the Superintendent’s criminal intentions …’

What hatred,
thought the Queen,
and how fearlessly he lies
…
unless there were copies of the documents that young man Pontbriand came to give back to me. God in Heaven, I cannot think that that young man was lying. But if Fouquet
…

‘The air is still cool, is that why you shiver?’ enquired Colbert,
sensing with delight that his poison was slowly being absorbed. ‘Madame, what are your own feelings on this? Do you think that the Superintendent’s defence will be difficult to dismantle?’

The Queen shivered again as she understood the nature of the trap.
Decidedly not,
she thought,
and without a doubt it is Colbert himself who is the traitor, master blackmailer that he is. My silence against his. I allow Fouquet to fall and he preserves my honour and my son’s destiny.

Faced with a lengthening silence, Colbert decided to go on the attack.

‘I do not ask you for an answer, Madame. And please believe that my greatest desire is to be able to return those papers to you without delay.’

He is lying,
thought the Queen sadly.
Whether I really believe Fouquet to be guilty of sedition or decide not to defend him for fear of Colbert’s threats, the result is the same – he is the winner.
 

She raised her head and glared at Colbert.

‘I must thank you, Monsieur. It is indeed rare that one is given an opportunity to distinguish so clearly between two moral attitudes. You see, what has differentiated you from a man of honour is the fact that a man who can lay claim to that glorious title came to see me a little while ago, to hand me those documents of which you speak, without even asking for the smallest favour for himself. And yet he was merely a modest secretary, without position or power.’

With his jaws clenched, Colbert absorbed the blow and took his leave.

The Queen Mother shook with anger as she watched him walk away: ‘Dear God, but the company of roses is sweet,’ she hissed between her teeth.

A
LARMED by the melancholy which had overcome Henrietta of England as her marriage to the Duc d’Orléans approached, Anne of Austria invited her future daughter-in-law and her retinue to spend the afternoon with her. Seated around the King’s mother, the ladies were listening to Monsieur Lulli regaling them with one of his recent compositions on the clavichord.

‘What talent!’ exclaimed Anne of Austria, applauding vigorously when the musician had finished his piece. ‘Your music is an enchantment for both the body and the soul. It has quite sharpened my appetite,’ she said cheerfully, clapping her hands in the direction of the servants who stood on either side of the main door. ‘Bring some hot chocolate with cinnamon; I wish to introduce these ladies to the divine cocoa beans given to me by Monsieur Colbert,’ she added with dark humour.

Louise de La Vallière sat modestly in the background. She was hoping to take advantage of this reception to thank the Queen Mother for so swiftly granting the audience Gabriel had requested a few days earlier. Olympe Mancini was there too, in her capacity as steward of the Queen Mother’s household. She was discreetly watching those assembled, and most particularly Louise de La Vallière.

She chose the end of the musical sequence as an appropriate moment to approach Anne of Austria.

‘Madame, may I request the privilege of speaking to you for a moment?’ asked Louise de La Vallière, bowing her head before the Queen Mother.

‘Of course, my little one,’ replied the sovereign, leading her affectionately towards a window bay.

‘Majesty, a dreadful cabal has hatched a plot against me,’ the young girl began, a little upset. ‘People are attacking my honour for reasons I do not understand.’

Perhaps because of your relations with the King?
thought the Queen Mother, without betraying what she knew.
After all,
she said to herself,
Louis has displayed good taste, the young lady is pretty; and what is more, she does not seem stupid. At least she will make him forget
Marie Mancini!

‘I can assure Your Majesty of my devotion to the royal family,’ continued Louise, ‘and I beg you never to believe the ignominies which certain people seem to delight in spreading about me!’

‘Your devotion to the royal family had not escaped me,’ replied Anne of Austria, with just a hint of perfidy. ‘Have no fear, Mademoiselle, I am aware of these base accusations and such gossip does not impress me. As long as you know your place, you will find a friend in me!’

Relieved, Louise curtsied respectfully and lowered her gaze to conceal her turmoil.

‘Your chocolate, Majesty.’

Olympe approached, bringing the two women cups of the hot liquid. She handed the first to the Queen Mother, who took it with a smile. Then she turned and handed the second to Louise.

‘No, no, please, you must have this one,’ said Louise, pushing away the cup. She was most surprised to be served in this way, against all the rules of etiquette, by the steward of the Queen Mother’s household.

‘Come,’ said Olympe awkwardly, offering the cup of chocolate once again, this time with a broad smile.

Louise took the cup and was about to sip it when the Queen Mother stopped her with a wave of the hand.

‘One moment, my dear. Permit an old woman to indulge a whim! Your chocolate seems creamier than mine. May I ask for your cup? I have a guilty passion for frothy chocolate!’

Disconcerted, Louise obediently handed her the cup.

‘But …’ stammered Olympe, ‘Majesty, you cannot …’

‘What is the matter?’ asked the Queen Mother sharply, staring at Olympe all of a sudden.

Although she said nothing, Olympe was obviously distressed.

‘What is the matter with you?’ asked the Queen Mother again.

Then, taking a step forward, she dropped the cup which shattered on the wooden floor. The chocolate spread over the ground in a star shape.

‘Heavens!’ cried Olympe.

‘Come, it’s not serious,’ commented the Queen Mother coldly.

The sound of the cup breaking made Henrietta turn round.

‘Look, you’ve made someone happy,’ she said with a laugh. The puppy given to Anne of Austria by the King to ease his mother’s loneliness was indeed now lapping up the liquid, watched anxiously by its mistress.

Louise spoke again as Olympe walked away.

‘Majesty,’ she said with a bow, ‘the fear which I have confided in you is my sole excuse for the lack of education I’ve shown in omitting
to thank you once again for granting the favour of a meeting to my friend, Monsieur de Pontbriand. Your generosity …’

‘Monsieur de Pontbriand is a true gentleman, Mademoiselle, and a charming boy too,’ replied the Queen Mother kindly. ‘It was my great pleasure to receive him. People who come with requests are many, but those who come to give something spontaneously are rare. I am therefore in debt to you and I owe you my thanks … What is more … Oh my God!’

Anne of Austria interrupted herself at the sight of her puppy, which had rolled over onto its back. Its limbs were trembling and there was foam on its lips. Before she could reach it, the poor little creature was dead, a bluish liquid trickling from its mouth.