The First Return to Paris

Now that Paris had regained its calm, the King, the Queen Mother, and the King's brother naturally could not remain in Saint-Germain-en-Laye.

Paris's Louvre Palace had first been built in the twelfth century as nothing more than a small fortress for defense. Later, Francis I, who had waged a "building" war with England's King Henry VIII, turned his attention to Paris after successively expanding Amboise Castle and building Chambord. But at the time, neither his energy nor his funds were sufficient. After tearing down the fortress's main tower, the project slowed greatly. His Hall of Caryatids—built in imitation of ancient Greek architecture, with four armless goddess statues serving as pillars to support the stage—was taken over and continued by his son Henry II. Henry II also completed the construction of the left wing of this square building in its later form. But the frequent succession of Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III—the three brothers—brought this immense project to a halt again. Henry III died without heirs, and Henri de Bourbon from Navarre became the new King Henry IV. He married Margaret, the youngest daughter of Henry II and Catherine, known to people as Queen Margot.

Henry II's queen, Catherine de Medici, left Louvre Palace after her husband's death. But she did not go far, instead building a new palace just fifteen hundred feet from the Louvre. It was named Tuileries Palace. In front of it lay two square gardens, following Florentine custom: the Tuileries Garden. Beyond the gardens was a broad tree-lined promenade, which in later generations became part of Paris's central axis.

Yet when Catherine died, portions of this new palace remained unfinished. It was later Henry IV who completed it—but speaking of Henry IV, his status had to be mentioned. As King of Navarre, he was a Protestant, and for many years afterward he had not converted. This made the largely Catholic French deeply dissatisfied. Moreover, his coronation had not taken place in Reims Cathedral. Thus, even after he converted, people continued to question his legitimacy. Perhaps to prove it, he not only completed Tuileries Palace, but also connected it to the original Louvre Palace with a long gallery—the Grand Gallery.

It was not until his son Louis XIII came to power—after Henry IV and Margaret divorced on the grounds that they had no children, and he married Mary de Medici of the Medici family—that the right wing of the Louvre's square structure was completed. At last, this vast building barely possessed the vague outline of its future form.

Beginning with Francis I, France's kings had devoted themselves to collecting vast quantities of artworks—statues, paintings, books, and the like—to display their wealth and artistic discernment. The two queens from the Medici family, in particular, brought the Italians' flamboyant and extravagant tastes into the austere royal court. While Louis XIII still lived, although it lacked the splendor and magnificence of later ages, Louvre Palace was still quite refined and comfortable. But after Louis XIII passed from the world, the King was young, and the Queen Mother and the cardinal were occupied with affairs of state. The attendants and servants in the palace gradually grew lax, and this enormous royal residence slowly fell into decay and desolation.

Dust piled up, plants sprang up everywhere, little animals scurried and burrowed all over the place, and someone had even seen foxes in the Grand Gallery.

When Queen Mother Mary, King Louis, the King's brother, and the cardinals fled in panic under pressure from the Fronde, this palace became a carnival ground for the mob. Everything of value was swept away, from the gold leaf on portrait frames to the draperies hanging over the windows. Statues were toppled, corners blackened with soot, and pillars carved with slanting, unbearable writing, full of blasphemies. Naturally, such a place could no longer house the exalted King, so they moved to another royal residence.

Speaking of that residence, it had originally been an earl's estate, very near Louvre Palace. It was later purchased and expanded by Cardinal Richelieu. On his deathbed, Richelieu gave the residence to Louis XIII, and now it quite naturally belonged to Louis XIV.

Because they were uncertain whether mobs still lurked elsewhere, the King's party returned to Paris as night fell. Their carriage jolted along the uneven road. Louis looked at the Queen Mother; there was no joy on her face, only weariness and irritation. Clearly, although Anne of Austria and Mary de Medici were equally unversed in government affairs, they both understood that returning to Paris was where the real battle began.

Cardinal Mazarin's servants were already in the Richelieu Residence. Though these servants did not possess the status of palace attendants, they were far more loyal and conscientious. The moment Louis entered the residence, a fire was already roaring in the fireplace in the room next to his bedchamber. Before it stood a white tin bathtub fashioned in the shape of a ship, lined with precious silk so that any hidden spikes would not pierce the King's skin. A pot hanging over the fireplace continuously boiled clean water, which was mixed with cold water and poured into the tub.

The servants also meticulously added herb sachets to the bathwater. The sachets contained ground rosemary, lavender, and myrrh. This was not Louis's requirement. When it came to removing grime and killing germs, he trusted olive oil soap more. But people of this age placed greater faith in herbs recommended by physicians and astrologers... Still, he said nothing. After all, since the outbreak of the Black Death, bathing had become a terrifying matter that made people pale at its very mention. To bathe, one had to have a doctor certify that one was ill; only a medicinal bath would keep people from making a great fuss.

He had just entered the tub with the servants' assistance—the ship-shaped bathtub was shallow, and quite suitable for a child, so he would not have to worry about accidentally choking on water—when the rare peace was shattered by the King's brother, Philip, Duke of Anjou. He was one of the few people allowed to see the King directly without announcement, whether the latter was asleep or bathing. He could even be said to overstep himself by reaching his hand into the scalding bathwater.

"If you want to bathe too," Louis said helplessly, "then come in."

The April weather was still somewhat cold, and Philip had clearly planned this beforehand, wearing only a linen robe. His hand was already wet; if he were sent back like this, he would surely catch a chill. That was no small matter.

Philip immediately brightened. Besides fearing the invasion of disease, people of this era did not much like bathing because, after public bathhouses had closed one after another, bathing at home had become a luxury. Never mind the bathtub itself—even the silk used to prevent injuries from protruding spikes or fragments was a major expense. The herb sachets were also costly, as were the charcoal burning in the fireplace and the servants in attendance. Back in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, only the King could bathe whenever he pleased. The Queen Mother, the cardinal, and all the nobles influenced by him had to wait several days between baths depending on their rank and wealth. Usually, they simply wiped their faces and bodies with clean linen cloths.

When Prince of Condé arrived at Anglais Castle, even with Fouquet's fundraising, their expenses remained extremely tight. Later, to satisfy Prince of Condé's demands, even the King had no choice but to make do with the Seine River. Fortunately, bathing drew disapproving looks at this time, while no one cared about swimming. And if one wished, one could face nature candidly, just like the ancient Greeks.

The two noble brothers played enthusiastically in the bathwater for a while, until both felt tired. The King had Bontemps, his bedchamber steward, inform Queen Mother Anne that Philip would sleep with him that night. Bontemps went and returned with Philip's servant. The King glanced at him. "Is Mother still awake?"

Bontemps visibly hesitated. He had not only seen Queen Mother Anne, but Cardinal Mazarin as well, and he did not know whether he should let the King know.

Fortunately, His Majesty the King did not concern himself much with the matter. He waved a hand. Understanding, Bontemps stepped forward and drew the bed curtains around the King and the King's brother.

In truth, Queen Mother Anne and Cardinal Mazarin had no improper relationship. The reason they were still in the same room so late was that Charles, Duke of Cornwall, the son and heir of England's King Charles I, was about to arrive in Paris.

"But he is a Protestant," Queen Mother Anne said.

"He is also a king," the cardinal said. The scene was rather absurd: a cardinal who did not care about faith, and a Queen Mother who was devout enough. "Though he has not yet been formally crowned."

"Then we should not address him as such," Anne said. "Perhaps we should refuse him entry into Paris."

"He will be filled with hatred."

"So what?" Anne said angrily. "If Mary were not my husband's sister, I would not even wish to deal with them."

The cardinal considered it. "How about this, Your Majesty? Tomorrow, we shall ask what the King thinks."

Anne raised her brows in surprise, but said nothing, merely nodding.