1

by paying the first visit. "She told the dauphin, that she only delayed going to Versailles, to pay her compliment to the king and the dauphiness, till she could procure a dress suitable for the occasion." In making her toilette for the court of Versailles, she knew that she must pay due attention to the prevailing modes. On this occasion she was happily so successful, that she had the good fortune to please the most fastidious of the French ladies.

"When the queen of England went to visit the dauphiness," says madame de Sevigné, with enthusiasm, "she was dressed to perfection. She wore a robe of black velvet over an elegant petticoat; her hair was beautifully arranged; her figure resembles that of the princess de Contí, and is very majestic." The king of France came himself to hand her from her coach; he led her into his presence-chamber, and placed her in a chair of state, higher than his own. After conversing with her about half-an-hour, Louis conducted her to the apartment of the dauphiness, who came to the door to receive her. The queen expressed some surprise. "I thought, madame," said she, "I should have found you in bed." "Madame,” replied the dauphiness," I was resolved to rise, that I might properly receive the honour done me by your majesty.' your majesty." Louis XIV. withdrew, because the mighty laws of court etiquette forbade his invalid daughter-in-law to sit in an arm-chair in his presence. When he had departed, the portentous ceremony of taking seats was successfully achieved. The exiled queen was inducted into the place of honour, the dauphiness seated herself in a fauteuil on her right hand, and madame the duchess of Orleans on her left, and the three little sons of the dauphiness were perched in three arm-chairs, the princesses and duchesses made their appearance, and occupied their tabourets round the room. In short, the pretended invalid held a crowded court in her bedchamber on this occasion, and was much elated at having succeeded in inducing the queen of England to pay her the first visit. His majesty of France being privately informed, when Mary Beatrice rose to take her leave, came, with his wonted courtesy, to lead her down stairs, and place her in her coach. When Louis returned to the apartment of the dauphiness, he was eloquent in his commendations of their 1 Dangeau. Sévigné.

royal guest, and evidently, with a view of suggesting to his German daughter-in-law, that she would do well to imitate so perfect a model of regal grace and dignity, he emphatically added, "See what a queen ought to be!" He praised her charming manners and her ready wit, and expressed his admiration of her fortitude in adversity, and her passionate love for her husband.' From that hour, it became the fashion in the court of France to cite the exiled queen of England as the perfection of grace, elegance, beauty, and female virtue. The grande monarque had said it, and from his decision there could be no appeal. The French duchesses, who, to please the dauphiness, had protested, that if the receptions of the court of St. Germains were to be modelled after the customs of that of Versailles, nothing should induce them to kiss the hem of the queen of England's robe, were now ready to kiss her feet.

The next day, at four o'clock precisely, Mary Beatrice was favoured with a solemn state visit from the duchess of Orleans, her daughters, the duchess of Guise, and all the princesses of the blood. She kissed them all, gave a fauteuil to the duchess of Orleans, and less honourable chairs, called pliants, to the princesses. As far as regarded their own claims, the demi-royalty of France were satisfied; but they took the liberty of requesting the queen to explain why she permitted the signora Anna Montecuculi to occupy a tabouret in her presence, as she had not the rank of a duchess. Her majesty condescended to explain, that she allowed her that privilege as the lady in waiting.3 These ladies, who were so rigid in their notions of the importance attached to chairs and stools, made no exception against the appearance of the infamous duchess of Portsmouth, who also occupied a tabouret, in that exclusive circle, having, with the persevering effrontery of her class and character, succeeded in obtaining an appointment, as one of the ladies of the bedchamber, in the household of James's consort at St. Germains. James was compelled to bestow several shadowy titles on his followers, to enable their ladies to hold appointments in his queen's bedchamber, and to sit in presence of the French court. He made lord Powis a duke, to entitle his lady to a tabouret. "There are four ladies of the queen of England," says Dangeau, "whom she will have seated 3 Dangeau.

Sévigné.

2 Ibid.

when there are either princesses or duchesses of France present. These are lady Powis, as an English duchess; madame Montecuculi, whom she has made countess of Almonde, as a lady of honour; and the ladies Sussex and Waldegrave as the daughters of king James;" the first named was, however, the daughter of Charles II. After the dauphiness had returned the visit of the English queen, her majesty came again to Versailles, to call on her. She arrived precisely at four o'clock, the orthodox hour. The king received her this time in the hall of guards, and led her into the state presence-chamber, and gave her the place of honour. They conversed a long time together, and then he led her by the hand, through the gallery, to the door of the apartments of the dauphiness, who received her there, and conducted her into her chamber. They were getting pretty well acquainted now, and their conversation was easy and lively. When her majesty retired, the dauphiness conducted her as far as the guard-room, where they parted, mutually satisfied with each other. Then the queen paid her ceremonial visit to the dauphin, who came to receive her in his guard-room, and conducted her to his presence-chamber, where they were both seated for some time in one fauteuil-probably one of those double chairs of state, such as that which is shown in queen Mary's chamber at Holyrood palace. The queen was charmed with monseigneur's cabinets, and good-naturedly spoke much in praise of the dauphiness, for whom, however, this prince cherished very little tenderness. When the queen left the apartments of the dauphin, he re-conducted her to the spot where he had received her, and she proceeded to visit monsieur and then madame, At these visits, lady Powis and madame Montecuculi were allowed seats; the one as a duchess, the other as lady in waiting to her majesty.

On the 15th, the king of France, with the dauphin, visited the king of England at St. Germains. James received them at the end of the hall of guards; and after they had talked some time, they went together to the queen's apartment, where three fauteuils were placed, but the king of England would not sit to leave the dauphin standing, who could not occupy the third fauteuil in his presence. After standing for some time by the chimney-piece, chatting with that prince, James, turning to the king of France, said, "We

are determined to have no more ceremonies after this visit ; I will begin this evening."

The frank proposition of the sailor king did not suit the formality of the court of France, which two successive Spanish queens had rendered almost as solemnly absurd, on the subject of ceremonials, as that of the Escurial. James and Mary Beatrice found, that if they expected to be treated according to their own rank, they must condescend to the follies of persons of narrow intellect, and strong prejudices, and conform to regulations which they, as aliens and suppliants, could not presume to censure. Policy and the exigency of circumstances taught the fallen queen of England the necessity of propitiating a lady of comparatively humble birth, but whose master-mind rendered her of tenfold more importance than all the French princesses put together, with the haughty dauphiness at their head. It is scarcely necessary to explain, that this was madame de Maintenon, the bosom counsellor of Louis XIV., she who wore the fleur-de-lys and ermined mantle, which none but the wife of a king of France may venture to assume, though public opinion forbade the widow Scarron to bear the title of queen. The first time madame de Maintenon came to St. Germains, Mary Beatrice, having made her wait a few minutes, gracefully apologized for it, by expressing her regret that she had lost so much of her conversation. The compliment was well judged, and her majesty had the good fortune of making a favourable impression on her, whose influence governed the latter years of the grande monarque.

"Every one," says madame de Sévigné, "is pleased with this queen, she has so much wit. She said to our king, on seeing him caressing the prince of Wales, who is very beautiful, I had envied the happiness of my son in being unconscious of his misfortunes, but now I regret the unconsciousness which prevents him from being sensible of your majesty's goodness to him.' Everything she says is full of good sense, but it is not so with her husband-he is brave, but his capacity is ordinary, and he recounts all that has passed in England without emotion; he is a good man, nevertheless."

The anguish that oppressed the heart of the exiled queen, while successfully labouring to establish a hard-earned popularity in the French court, is unaffectedly avowed in the

following letter, addressed by her, evidently at this period, to her faithful friend the countess of Lichfield:-'

"St. Germain, Jan. 21.

"You cannot imagine, dear lady Lichfield, how pleased I was to receive two letters from you, so full of kindness as they were. I hope you do not think I am so unreasonable as to expect you should leave your husband and children to come to me. I am in too miserable a condition to wish that my friends should follow it, if they can be in their own country. I was overjoyed to hear by every body, as well as by the king, that your lord had behaved himself so well. I don't doubt but he will continue to do so, and I am sure you will encourage him to it. The king is entirely satisfied with him, and does not dislike what he did, for he had the example and advice of honest men, which he may well follow. The letter sent by your sister was of no great consequence, but by the courier you had reason to think it was. I thank God I am very well in my health, and have the satisfaction to see my poor child grow visibly every day, and the king look better than he has done this great while. I want no less to enable me to support my other misfortunes, which are so extraordinary that they move every one's pity in this country, so that they cry and pray for us perpetually. I hope God will hear their prayers, and make us happy again, but no change or condition shall ever lessen the real kindness I have for you. "M. R."

This letter is written on plain note paper, and is enclosed in a torn and hastily folded envelope, superscribed: "For the countess of Lichfield." It is sealed with the famous diamond seal always used by the consort of James II. in her correspondence with the adherents of the Jacobite cause. The impression is her royal cipher, M.R. interlaced, surmounted with the crown matrimonial of England.

MR

FAC-SIMILE.

The manner in which Mary Beatrice speaks of her infant boy in this most interesting letter, contains, in its unaffected simplicity, a refutation of the complicated falsehoods with which the injustice of a party had laboured to impugn his birth. When the fallen queen thanks God, in the midst of her misfortunes, "that she has the satisfaction of seeing her

1 Through the kindness of the hon. lady Bedingfield, the immediate descendant of the earl and countess of Lichfield, I enjoy the privilege of presenting this most interesting royal letter, for the first time, to the public, having been permitted by that accomplished and amiable lady to copy the original, which is in her possession.