Servants of the Sun King

Helene-Carol Brown

Description

Jean-Paul Morot, and his charming wife Jeanne-Marie, are privileged servants at the Court of Louis XIV, The Sun King. Jean-Paul holds the position as first assistant to the famed Landscape Architect, Andre Le Notre. Jeanne-Marie is First Seamstress to Louis XIV’s Queen, Marie-Therese. Each of them does exceptionally talented work and is held in high regard at Versailles, where balls, concerts, lavish suppers, and ballet-plays keep the courtiers in an endless round of extravagant pleasures. Yet if the Court were to discover that Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie are of the Reformed Faith, that is that they are Protestants, they could lose their positions, and even find themselves imprisoned. While they are quiet about their religious persuasions, their immediate relatives in another town have suffered dearly for being discovered. Will Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie escape the persecution within France? Can friends and colleagues assist them, not merely for themselves but also for their new baby daughter? Or will Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie join family members in the merciless galleys and the pitiless workhouse?

Sujets

• Histoire
• History

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 18 juillet 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669837817
• Langue: English

Extrait

SERVANTS OF THE SUN KING
Grandeur and Peril in the France of Louis XIV
 
 
 
 
HELENE-CAROL BROWN
 
Copyright © 2022 by Helene-Carol Brown.
 

Library of Congress Control Number:
2022913211
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-3783-1

Softcover
978-1-6698-3782-4

eBook
978-1-6698-3781-7
 
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 07/14/2022
 
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
844413
CONTENTS
A Note to the Reader
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
For Further Reading
In Memoriam, Albert Hoxie, UCLA
A NOTE TO THE READER
Before Cardinal Richelieu came to power as Minister to Louis XIII, France had endured nearly forty years of religious wars between Catholics and Protestants. These wars were followed later by rebellions from within the aristocracy and the city of Paris, collectively call the Frondes.
With the death of Richelieu and Louis XIII, Cardinal Mazarin instructed the new king Louis XIV to keep tight control of his people and to resist the encirclement of France by the Hapsburgs. Louis XIV learned his lessons well and he came to power with the intent to rule as the Absolute Monarch we know him today.
The Seventeenth Century was the age of nation building. It was no easy task to make dozens of separate provinces into one united kingdom with allegiance to one absolute monarch. Louis XIV made France the envy of the world and the center of art, drama, music, and sophistication. How he did this was not always admirable, yet it lasted for nearly two centuries, until the French Revolution.
Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie, although fictional, were very real players in this very real drama.
PART ONE
“B onjour, Jean-Paul! How are you this early spring morning?” A tall well-made man wearing a handsome brown wool coat and sturdy leather boots trod carefully across the still slick terrace to greet me.
“Very well, Monsieur Le Notre,” I replied. “And you?” It was several weeks since we had been able to chat. Our winter’s work in the gardens of Versailles had kept us busy.
Monsieur Le Notre shook his head. “I have been counting the frozen orange trees, Jean-Paul, and I am not a happy man. Far too many of these expensive Italian-grown trees did not survive the cold winter we have had this year. I warned His Majesty that the trees should be in an orangerie—a heated one preferably. Unfortunately, the King thought that the trees could winter-over inside the chateau. As you can imagine, with most of the rooms left unheated due to the endless construction and redecoration, the trees perished.”
“I can sympathize, Monsieur. Several servants have told me that it is never comfortable in winter inside the chateau. It does not help that His Majesty will throw open the windows for more fresh air even when it is snowing! I am told that many a Court duchesse has sat shivering in a fur cloak while playing cards in the afternoon,” I added, somewhat hesitantly.
“Last year, Jean-Paul, I sent a young man down to Italy to procure the best orange trees grown near Rome. However, while he bought the trees for an excellent price, I fear he did not get the hardiest ones,” Louis XIV’s Landscape Architect lamented.
“Is there any way to grow our own orange trees here in France—perhaps in Provence or Languedoc? It would save us the trip over the Alps to Italy and would likely be far less expensive. Our Finance Minister, Monsieur Colbert, is always looking for ways to save money and to make or procure whatever is needed by the King at home,” I ventured.
“Excellent idea, Jean-Paul. I will suggest this to Monsieur Colbert the next time I see him—which should be soon. Meanwhile, I am afraid for this year we will need to get our trees from Italy again.” Monsieur Le Notre stopped and pondered a moment.
“Would you be willing to go to Italy? I know I can trust you to find the very best trees. I could surely send you with some bodyguards and give you a letter of credit. It is never a good idea to carry coin of the realm over the mountains. There are brigands in those mountains who would rob Saint Peter if they thought they could get away with it. Also, I can make a list of the best Inns where you could stay, hopefully flea-free.”
I considered the idea. I am Monsieur Le Notre’s first garden assistant, his maitre jardinier, here at Versailles. It is a position of some account at the chateau. And I do admire the genius of Monsieur Le Notre’s designs and the beauty of his arrangements.”
“Your reputation is unblemished, sir, and I would not wish it damaged for lack of healthy orange trees. If it would make your rapport with His Majesty any easier, I will take the task upon me,” I answered.
“Merci, Jean-Paul. I very much value your help in this matter. As you know, the garden designs here are based upon the gardens at Vaux Le Vicomte. When Monsieur Nicolas Fouquet was imprisoned, His Majesty vowed to make his own chateau even bigger and more majestic than Vaux. It was a sad day when the King had all the fountains, statues and trees dug up at Vaux and brought to the grounds here. Some things are still in storage for later use. The interior of that chateau was equally elegant. The King’s Building Architect, Monsieur Louis Le Vau, constructed the perfectly proportioned edifice, and Monsieur Charles Le Brun painted the loveliest ceilings. It is a sad business that the chateau now sits completely empty and no one lives there. I thought Vaux Le Vicomte was perfection itself.”
“I agree.” I replied. “No more beautiful fetes and music, no more fireworks and fountains at Vaux. And to think this had all been constructed for the King’s enjoyment. There were suites for His Majesty to stay for visits with his whole family and some of the Court, were there not?”
“Ah, do not remind me, Jean-Paul. However, at least we all found employment here at Versailles. The King knew what was good, and he wanted it replicated here. Although why here, I do not understand. There is not a drop of water to be found here that is suitable. Marshes and sand everywhere. Nonetheless, we have managed to carve out some lovely spaces. Although if I may say so I do not like the over-busy flowers in my parterre de broderie hedges.”
I nodded. However, I was certain that the King who loved colorful clothes, colorful parties, and colorful women would not be persuaded to omit the colorful flowerbeds. These took days to plant, and days to take apart, only to put in something else equally elaborate. No wonder the King ofttimes brought in whole regiments from the army to help with the work.
“So, Monsieur Le Notre, do you have any special task for today?” I had been brushing off the box hedges, and taking some damaged limbs from the edges of the yew trees. “Is there something else I can do for you?”
“Merci encore, Jean-Paul. Would you be able to contact the Dutch Tulip Registrar here at Versailles? I think he has an office somewhere in the out-buildings of the chateau. I know it means waiting for an hour, at least, while the man checks his records for what can be purchased from the United Provinces. His Majesty detests having to buy anything from the heretic Calvinists. But where else can I find the 100,000 tulips he wants planted along the terraces for more Spring color?”
Monsieur Andre Le Notre shook his handsome head once more, doffed his hat to me (an unusual honor) and stepped carefully around the wet patch on the lower terrace. I hardly relished the opportunity to spend an hour waiting at the Dutch Registrar’s office. At least I would be somewhat out of the still chilly weather. We would need to get as many tulips bulbs as we could before the English Ambassador bought all of them. Every country in Europe was in love with tulips.
While waiting at the Registrar’s office, which I found after a half-hour search of the rabbit warren workshops in the long unheated outbuildings surrounding the chateau, I thought about the trip to Italy. Monsieur Le Notre was correct. The trip could be hazardous. The mountains harbored brigands and highwaymen who made their living robbing travelers—ofttimes beating them or even killing them for whatever gold they carried. Unless one travelled with well-armed bodyguards, the journey could be an unwelcome one. I mused about the journey…and other things.
Being away from my dear wife, Jeanne-Marie, would also be unwelcome. I have known her since we were children in Tours, where our families still live. Our mothers were best friends and I suspect there was more than a little match-making when we had reached marriageable age. We are wedded now these four years and are very happy.
Jeanne-Marie is First Seamstress to Her Majesty, Queen Marie-Therese. This is a position of some prestige for my clever, pretty wife. She stands at five pied-du-roi, with sandy hair and blue eyes. She is a meticulous master of needle and thread. Some of the Court gowns she has made are truly works of art.
We are privileged to rent a petite maison in the large back garden of our neig