Colbert, the Merchant Who Followed the Court

Queen Mother Anne frowned. She could not understand what Mazarin meant. This Spanish princess was, in truth, not particularly sensitive to politics, but she was tolerant and patient. Take Mazarin before her, for instance. He had once been Cardinal Richelieu's disciple and political heir, and in the early years of Louis XIII, Anne of Austria had suffered no small number of blows from the then Queen Mother Mary de Medici and her ally Richelieu. Once Louis XIII died, everyone had thought she would use her position as the King's mother to crush Mazarin mercilessly, perhaps even throw him into prison.

But Anne had done no such thing. Not only had she refrained from it, she had not followed Louis XIII's orders to establish a council to govern the realm. Instead, she had assumed the regency herself, made the King's brother Gaston Inspector-General of the Kingdom, and appointed Cardinal Mazarin as chief minister to keep this vast empire running. Thus, rumors had long circulated that Queen Mother Anne and Cardinal Mazarin shared an improper intimacy—they said that Mazarin was the "ruler" of France and Queen Mother Anne.

Only the Queen Mother and the Cardinal knew that this was utter nonsense. Their relationship could hardly be called harmonious; they managed to coexist only for France's sake, and for the King's.

Though Cardinal Mazarin was burdened with countless affairs, he had no choice but to settle down and make Queen Mother Anne understand that there was nothing about the young King that ought to worry people. In fact, it was precisely because there was nothing to worry about that it seemed strange. After all, he was only ten years old—a child, especially a boy, whether king or beggar, was bound to do things so baffling that they left adults not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Yet Louis's sensitivity to power still could not help but astonish the Cardinal.

But after learning the details, he changed his original opinion. This was not a child's momentary caprice. Louis's thoughts were clearly more complex and profound than he had imagined, and colder than those of children his age. The Cardinal attributed this to the insecurity the King had gained from the Fronde rebels' uprising and the atrocities of dark creatures. Still, amid his endless duties, he could not help paying more attention to his King. To his surprise, everyone who had encountered the King said that he was an elegant and kind sovereign, humble in manner, fair in his dealings, and noble in character.

Saint-Germain-en-Laye had once housed many Kings of France. It had begun as a monastery built by Robert II in the eleventh century. After the monastery gradually expanded into a town, Louis IX built a palace there. Charles V raised a new residence atop the ruins of that palace, while Francis I, Henry IV, and Louis XIII had all renovated this castle-like palace and the town around it. The people here were not country bumpkins from some godforsaken backwater. Winning their approval was not something a few small favors could accomplish.

And now, they could not even offer small favors. Although Cardinal Mazarin was invincible at the negotiating table—he had signed the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, winning Verdun, Metz, and Alsace for France—finance was not among his strengths.

Having no choice but to dismiss many court attendants and even pawn the Queen Mother's jewels and fine garments, the young King had nevertheless maintained the dignity expected of a ruler and won the love of the people of Saint-Germain-en-Laye. It truly was something worthy of admiration and praise. That was why Cardinal Mazarin had let out such a sigh today without meaning to.

"But this is a good thing, is it not?" Queen Mother Anne was perfectly composed. "It is Louis, not my little princess Philip, nor His Highness Duke Gaston, nor the First Prince"—meaning Prince of Condé, a collateral branch of the Bourbon dynasty—"so what is there for us to worry about?"

"You are right," Cardinal Mazarin said, though he could not fully set his mind at ease.

Soon enough, however, he stopped dwelling on the matter, for more urgent and important affairs awaited him. That evening, Prince Philip's tutor was reprimanded because he had praised the little prince as exceptionally intelligent, diligent, and eager to learn. This was not what Queen Mother Anne wished to see.

Prince Philip's tutor was quickly replaced. Moreover, the Queen Mother and her ladies became even more enthusiastic about dressing up their "little girl." Even ministers, upon seeing him, had to praise his natural beauty and graceful charm. When Louis wanted to take his brother hunting, Queen Mother Anne even scolded him for it—a rare occurrence. Perhaps it was because he had again asked her when Prince Philip's Breeching Ceremony would be held.

Louis could only take Mali Mancini hunting instead. Naturally, many loyal attendants surrounded him, led by Superintendent Nicolas Fouquet, a man with a keen nose and considerable skill. He regarded the Fronde uprising, which had forced the King, Queen Mother, and Cardinal Mazarin to abandon Paris and reside temporarily in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, as a tremendous opportunity. Not only had he brought several reliable officials with him, he had also raised a considerable sum from the merchants following the court to cover the Queen Mother's and King's daily expenses.

Such a man naturally deserved a reward. But neither the Cardinal nor the Queen Mother had any money to spare, so the King granted Monsieur Fouquet the honor of hunting alongside him and allowed him to keep the King's powder bag throughout the hunt.

This distinction left Monsieur Fouquet overwhelmed with gratitude, especially after he learned that he was the first minister ever to receive such an honor. In return, he had specially presented the King with a red velvet coat worth five hundred livres, adorned with rows of silver buttons and lined with dark brown ermine fur.

As they left Saint-Germain-en-Laye Castle, Mali, who was traveling with them, saw the King on horseback deliberately nod to a gatekeeper. But the face was entirely unfamiliar. "Who is that?" she asked curiously.

"That is Jean-Baptiste Colbert," Louis said. "When we encountered the werewolves, my horse broke its leg and neck. Later, they found a suitable replacement from Colbert. Monsieur Colbert was willing to offer his horse to his King, so the Cardinal gave him the status of a merchant following the court. Now he is guarding the gate for me alongside my guards."

Fouquet heard this and was greatly surprised by the King's approachability. Monsieur Colbert did not seem particularly accustomed to his clothes or sword, so he had probably once been nothing more than a country gentleman or merchant. Fouquet immediately forgot about the man. Just a lucky fellow, he thought, turning his attention back to the King.

They encountered quite a few people along the way—farmers, soldiers, and priests. They bowed to the King, and the King humbly removed his hat and pressed it to his chest in return. Judging by this, the Bourbon royal family's circumstances in Saint-Germain-en-Laye were not as bad as he had imagined.