Royal Romances: Titillating Tales of Passion and Power in the Palaces of Europe by Leslie Carroll
Authors: Leslie Carroll
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during the course of their marriage. He was also banned from coming anywhere near her, the equivalent of a modern-day order of protection, a separate document that he was served with on July 16, 1674.
The contents of the marquis’ household in Paris were appraised at a grand total of only 985 livres. Essentially, he lacked the proverbial pot to pee in. Upon learning just how destitute her estranged husband had become, Athénaïs took pity on him and insisted, throughher attorneys, that it had never been her intention to ruin “the house of the said Seigneur her husband nor to prejudice his children.” She directed that her alimony payments be used for their care and education instead, and postponed her claim for the restitution of the sixty thousand livres of her dowry that he’d breezed through at the gaming tables. And since her royal lover was exceedingly generous to her, she decided to pay it forward, electing to discharge ninety thousand livres of the marquis de Montespan’s debts.
For the next few years, Athénaïs was the uncontested beauty at court, her voluptuous golden splendor the feminine equivalent of the sovereign’s. While Louis was busy turning the kingdom into the most envied spot on the globe, achieving his desire of making everyone want to emulate French fashions, cuisine, and culture; wear their perfume; and practice their etiquette, Madame de Montespan herself was the ultimate advertisement, named “the most splendid ornament of this splendid century.”
Madame de Maintenon’s cousin, Madame de Caylus, wrote of Athénaïs, “Her mettle, her spirit, her beauty which surpassed everything seen at the court, flattered the pride of the King, who showed her off like a treasure. He was proud of his mistress, and even when he was unfaithful to her he returned quickly because she was more gratifying to his vanity.”
During Athénaïs’s bad moods, she would accuse Louis of loving her only because she was a trophy who enhanced his gloire and made such a spectacular accoutrement. What Louis did find so sexy about her, in addition to her looks, was her self-confidence and self-esteem. This ultimate egoist was also excited by her apparent refusal to be intimidated by him, owing to her ingrained certainty that her ancient Rochechouart de Mortemart genes trumped his nouveau Bourbon blood any day of the week. Their relationship was singular for a megalomaniac monarch and his lover: She felt completely at ease bantering with him, and even scolding him, always treating His Majesty as a social equal. During the dozen years that their passion blazed, Athénaïs loved Louis the man as much as she loved Louis the king, and never behaved as though she were in awe of his title.
During the span of their romance Louis founded the Académie des Sciences (1666), the Académie Royale de Musique (1669), and theAcadémie d’Architecture (1671). He and Athénaïs shared a love of high culture (she promoted the work of Molière, Racine, and La Fontaine), as well as a mania for extravagance. Beginning in 1674, by the time her royal bastards were acknowledged and her husband was legally out of her famously coiffed hair, Madame de Montespan became the ultimate material girl. Her rather snarky nickname at court, purportedly bestowed by the quick-tongued Madame de Sevigné, was “Quanto,” after the popular Italian card game Quanto-va , meaning “How much?” because it was common knowledge that Athénaïs always wanted more.
Louis wasn’t generous when it came to gifts of jewelry, and Athénaïs had always made a point of refusing gems, perhaps so she would not appear too greedy. But both of them finagled a way around the traditional man-gives-his-mistress-jewelry issue in an intriguing way. Louis instructed his finance minister to prepare a casket of gems that Madame de Montespan could “borrow,” drawing up a laundry list of earrings and necklaces of diamonds and pearls, the latter even more prized than the former in
The contents of the marquis’ household in Paris were appraised at a grand total of only 985 livres. Essentially, he lacked the proverbial pot to pee in. Upon learning just how destitute her estranged husband had become, Athénaïs took pity on him and insisted, throughher attorneys, that it had never been her intention to ruin “the house of the said Seigneur her husband nor to prejudice his children.” She directed that her alimony payments be used for their care and education instead, and postponed her claim for the restitution of the sixty thousand livres of her dowry that he’d breezed through at the gaming tables. And since her royal lover was exceedingly generous to her, she decided to pay it forward, electing to discharge ninety thousand livres of the marquis de Montespan’s debts.
For the next few years, Athénaïs was the uncontested beauty at court, her voluptuous golden splendor the feminine equivalent of the sovereign’s. While Louis was busy turning the kingdom into the most envied spot on the globe, achieving his desire of making everyone want to emulate French fashions, cuisine, and culture; wear their perfume; and practice their etiquette, Madame de Montespan herself was the ultimate advertisement, named “the most splendid ornament of this splendid century.”
Madame de Maintenon’s cousin, Madame de Caylus, wrote of Athénaïs, “Her mettle, her spirit, her beauty which surpassed everything seen at the court, flattered the pride of the King, who showed her off like a treasure. He was proud of his mistress, and even when he was unfaithful to her he returned quickly because she was more gratifying to his vanity.”
During Athénaïs’s bad moods, she would accuse Louis of loving her only because she was a trophy who enhanced his gloire and made such a spectacular accoutrement. What Louis did find so sexy about her, in addition to her looks, was her self-confidence and self-esteem. This ultimate egoist was also excited by her apparent refusal to be intimidated by him, owing to her ingrained certainty that her ancient Rochechouart de Mortemart genes trumped his nouveau Bourbon blood any day of the week. Their relationship was singular for a megalomaniac monarch and his lover: She felt completely at ease bantering with him, and even scolding him, always treating His Majesty as a social equal. During the dozen years that their passion blazed, Athénaïs loved Louis the man as much as she loved Louis the king, and never behaved as though she were in awe of his title.
During the span of their romance Louis founded the Académie des Sciences (1666), the Académie Royale de Musique (1669), and theAcadémie d’Architecture (1671). He and Athénaïs shared a love of high culture (she promoted the work of Molière, Racine, and La Fontaine), as well as a mania for extravagance. Beginning in 1674, by the time her royal bastards were acknowledged and her husband was legally out of her famously coiffed hair, Madame de Montespan became the ultimate material girl. Her rather snarky nickname at court, purportedly bestowed by the quick-tongued Madame de Sevigné, was “Quanto,” after the popular Italian card game Quanto-va , meaning “How much?” because it was common knowledge that Athénaïs always wanted more.
Louis wasn’t generous when it came to gifts of jewelry, and Athénaïs had always made a point of refusing gems, perhaps so she would not appear too greedy. But both of them finagled a way around the traditional man-gives-his-mistress-jewelry issue in an intriguing way. Louis instructed his finance minister to prepare a casket of gems that Madame de Montespan could “borrow,” drawing up a laundry list of earrings and necklaces of diamonds and pearls, the latter even more prized than the former in
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