PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 The Cantique à Mme de Maintenon and the Outbreak of Émigré Satire in 1695 J AMES F. G AINES (U NIVERSITY OF M ARY W ASHINGTON ) The “Cantique à Mme de Maintenon” appeared in a pamphlet enigmatically entitled Vers à la louange du Roi whose only copies are preserved in the British Library and in one of the college libraries at Oxford. 1 Copies are not available in any French libraries because of the text’s subversive nature. This pamphlet was one of several that were published in England and Holland in 1695, following the retaking of the fortress of Namur by forces under the command of the British monarch William III. The event closely followed the publication in Paris by Boileau of his “Ode sur la prise de Namur” that celebrated the fall of the city to the French three years earlier. Boileau’s poem had led to a spate of artistic criticism from virtually all quarters (except, oddly, the University of Paris). In England and Holland, this criticism took the form of full-scale parody, often in railing verses that reproduced Boileau’s own end-rhymes with ridiculously distorted effect. 2 In the particular pamphlet in question, the “Cantique” occupies a place following two different railing parodies of the Boileau ode and preceding a satirical “Chanson sur le Chant de Léandre” and an epigram on the same theme. Like the other texts that accompany railing satires, the “Cantique” demonstrates how Boileau’s clumsy ode provided an excellent occasion for political criticism of the French royal family. The first stanza opens with extreme sarcasm by suggesting that, like her unconstrained mother, who had borne her child conceived by Charles 1 Vers à la louange du Roy, avec une satire contre Boileau-Despreaux et contre la Maintenon. London: Cailloué, 1695 (? ). British Library ref. T 2296 Political Tracts. I have not been able to verify the report of another copy in the library of Magdalen College. I have earlier referred to this outbreak of parody in my article, “The Triple Failure of Boileau’s Ode sur la prise de Namur” that appears in the December 2013 issue of the online journal L’Érudit franco-espagnol 4, 13-23. James F. Gaines PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 284 d’Aubigné in the prison of Niort, Françoise d’Aubigné, marquise de Maintenon was a woman who could not say “no” where sex was concerned. Incomparable Maintenon, Vous qui n’avez jamais dit non, Fille d’une mère si sage; 3 Grande Reine des perroquets, Digne de leur plus doux ramage, Recevez mes petits Bouquets. Now, the reading public in both Paris and London was certainly aware that Maintenon was no Ado Annie. There were more exaggerated examples of loose women who had a far greater claim to this accusation than she. Yet the story of Maintenon’s family origins was equally well known and easily lent itself to conflation. This initial hyperbole of licentiousness places the poem strictly across the boundary of political lèse majesté in a bold, insouciant fashion. It sets the parameters of vraisemblance in the “Cantique” at the extremes of fantastic and figurative language, opening the field for further outrageous statements and creating an expectation of total character denigration. Thus, by the standards of propaganda, the opening leaves the possibility for the image of the French royal family to become, with some justification, a kind of reductio ad absurdum. Precisely because the emerging concepts of propaganda allow - and even demand - that the rhetorical trope of exaggeratio overtly deny the limitations of conventional vraisemblance, the poet’s implicit announcement that “anything goes” does not necessarily violate the usually sacrosanct rationalism that applied to such genres as classical tragedy. Even within the usually more decorous theatrical world, those bounds would soon be challenged by a play that satirized Maintenon, La Fausse Prude, which would result in the expulsion of the Comédie Italienne from Paris. The sarcasm of the opening lines is repeated and strengthened at the stanza’s close by the use of “ramage” and “bouquet” in the sense of contrary metonymy, representing the common notions of cacophony and stench in satirical form. The first stanza also provides a retrospective association for la Maintenon’s sexual amorality through her association with the Caribbean and the still-occulted practice of piracy. She qualifies as “la reine des perroquets” because of her father’s exile to the Caribbean with the dubious distinction of being governor of the isle of Marie-Galante. That small island near 3 Jeanne de Cardilhac, who married Constant d’Aubigné after he murdered his first wife and her lover, served mainly as a cash cow for her husband and hardly deserved the epithet of sage. The satirist may be deliberately conflating Constant d’Aubigné’s two “criminal” wives. The Cantique à Madame de Maintenon and the Outbreak of Émigré Satire PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 285 Guadeloupe was still devoid of legitimate settlers in the 1690’s due to the presence of pirates and to several Spanish attacks designed to repel them. Nevertheless, it continued to be used mainly by buccaneers well past the turn of the century, especially because of the feral cattle and pigs that provided a ready source of supplies. Barbecued meat (viande boucanée, after the Amerindian style of open-pit smoking) was needed for buccaneer cruises. A main rendez-vous point for the Spanish treasure fleet coming annually from Seville was the nearby island of La Désirade, often actually visible from Marie-Galante. Since the ships from Spain had not collected New World treasure yet, stragglers could be raided for the finished goods they carried from the continent or shadowed and attacked later when they had taken on loads of pearls from Isla Margarita or gold from the ports along the Spanish Main. The parrot was already a widely-known symbol for pirates, since these seafarers were virtually the only source for collectors of the popular birds in northern Europe, and retired buccaneers were known to routinely take one back to France, England, or Holland, where they were worth at least a year’s income. Besides the six years that the young Françoise d’Aubigné spent at Guadeloupe (the putative governor was afraid to take up residence on Marie- Galante itself! ), there is a second connection between piracy and Mme de Maintenon. In order to take that lofty title, she had bought the fief of Maintenon from an impoverished marquis, who went on to become quite a famous buccaneer in his own right. Continuing to use the now unwarranted appellation of Marquis de Maintenon, the disgraced Charles d’Angennes led several successful expeditions against the Spanish and became well-known throughout the archipelago and beyond, due to his free-spending ways. The second stanza renews this embarrassing Caribbean association through the mention of Peru, which may seem out of place at first, but which plays to early modern associations in an interesting way. Noble Relique du Pérou, 4 Beau choix d’un pauvre Loup-garou, 5 Beauté qu[e l]’on voit si vantée, Jeune tendron à cheveux gris: N’êtes-vous point épouvantée Des bruits qui courent à Paris ? 4 La Maintenon never visited South America. This may be an allusion to Incan mummies found in Peru that were a well-known conversation piece, as well as an unflattering reference to her physical appearance, foreshadowing stanza ten. 5 Reference to Maintenon’s first husband, Paul Scarron, a deformed invalid. James F. Gaines PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 286 Mummies had been discovered in Peru shortly after Pizarro’s conquest and had created a sensation across Europe through comparison and contrast with the mummies of Egypt. Their existence became inaccurately conflated in European thinking with the practice of native magic in the form of vaudou or gris gris, as would result in the early occult novel La Momie du Grand Pérou. So the association with Peru, though not strictly Caribbean, not only creates a possibility of physical comparison with mummies, which will be taken up in a later stanza, but also with magical domination, recalling the widely rumored suspicion that la Maintenon had somehow cast a spell over the King that caused the increasing bigotry of the latter half of his reign. This double occult aspersion is sustained within the stanza by the mention of la Maintenon’s monster-like former husband Paul Scarron, a deformed hunchback rather than a strict “loup-garou,” and by the reference to her own prematurely gray and presumably mummy-like hair. The rumors mentioned in the closing words of the second stanza provide a bridge to the third, for focus shifts from rumors about la Maintenon’s own behavior to the issue of Louis’s alleged disloyalty to her. Louis, ce renommé Guerrier, Qui ne masche que du Laurier; Qu’on fait tout blanc de son Epée, A bonne part à [c]es beaux dits; Pleurez, pleurez, tendre Poupée, Sur l’honneur de votre Amadis. Louis is rumored to be guilty both of disrespecting la Maintenon verbally and of “cuckolding” her with other mistresses. The clever use of the odd expression “blanc de son épée” is a double innuendo. It represents on the one hand the King’s professed (but false) fidelity to the lady, for the “sword” of his royal body is supposed to be unsullied by other romantic interests. On another level, it evokes his military cowardice, for he failed to take part personally in the defense of the fortress of Namur against the 1695 attack by the Grand Alliance. The evocation of “beaux dits” redoubles the mock epic sarcasm of “guerrier,” “laurier,” and “épée” in the preceding lines, sustaining the figure of hyperbole and the trope of exaggeratio. In contrast, la Maintenon herself is reduced to a poor “poupée,” for the putatatively powerful enchantress turns out to be no more than a pawn in the great political game of Versailles. Such a radical shift of imagery is possible here, since the author removed or at least attenuated the bounds of vraisemblance earlier in the first stanza. Conceding that la Maintenon still has some influence over domestic politics, represented by her leadership of Louis’s “chaste Sérail,” stanzas four and five mockingly suggest that she should use her power to erase the military The Cantique à Madame de Maintenon and the Outbreak of Émigré Satire PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 287 embarrassment of the King at the retaking of Namur by suddenly transforming the defeated generals, and even the common soldiers, into great nobles. Puisque de son chaste Serail, Vous commandez tout l’Atirail; 6 Pour cacher un peu sa Déroute, Ne menagez point les Ecus, Donnez, et quoi que vous en coûte[,] Faites triompher les Vaincus. Bouflers est duc, faites le pair, Ce grand fracas est du bel air; Que Villeroi soit Connétable, Ennoblissez tous ses soldats; Ce prix est peu considérable Après de si fameux combats. In reality, François de Neufville, second duc de Villeroy, who surrendered Namur and later senselessly bombarded Brussels, was eventually awarded the Order of Saint Louis, but never became Constable of France. Similarly, on the southern front, Louis François de Boufflers, who was perceived by the international public as the loser at the siege of the Italian fortress of Casale was made a duke, but could never, because of his parentage, be made a pair de France. Exaggeratio continues through the poem’s lofty mention of a peerage and a constable’s post, both so elevated that it would make the rewards even more ridiculous. The sarcasm assures that such a price would indeed be not “peu considérable,” but totally inconsiderable. Stanzas six and seven change from the military register to a literary one by returning to the personality of la Maintenon’s first husband and his wellknown burlesque work La Gigantomachie. 7 The author of the “Cantique” suggests that even Scarron’s indirect portrayal of the gods’ ineptitude in war and statesmanship could prove too shocking for the lady, for such a comparison could topple the near-divine status of the Sun-King that she was so complicit in creating. Si de la perte de Casall, 8 Le Coeur vous faisoit trop de mal; Comme vous estes délicate, 6 A rather overt reference both to la Maintenon’s previous role as guardian of Louis XIV’s illegitimate children and to her patronage of the girls’ school at St.-Cyr. 7 Typhon ou la gigantomachie (Paris : Toussaint Quinet, 1648). 8 This does not refer to the 1693 victory of Marshall Nicolas Catinat over Victor Amadeus II of Savoy at Marsiglia, but rather to the retaking of the fortress of Casale by Grand Alliance troops under Victor Amadeus after a sham siege in 1695. James F. Gaines PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 288 Apelez à votre secours Les vers de votre Cul de jate, 9 Ils ont encore assez de cours. N’allez pas trop vous areter, A ce qui peut épouvanter, Passez la Guerre Gigantesque. 10 Le désaroi des plus grands Dieux, Quoi que peint d’une stille Burlesque, Pouroit bien efrayer vos yeux. By evoking the well-known works of Scarron, the anonymous author of the “Cantique” renews his links to the heritage of French anti-absolutist satire in the seventeenth century, stretching from the Satire Ménipée through the Mazarinades and to the more contemporary work of Bussy-Rabutin. The poet goes on to compare la Maintenon, in stanza eight, to the abandoned Dido of burlesque mock-epic. De la déplorable Didon N’examinez point le Lardon[,] 11 Soit dans Ovide ou dans Virgile[ ; ] Deffiez-vous du Coeur humain, Puisque toute chair est fragile, Votre amant peut être inhumain. He urges Mme de Maintenon not to pay too close attention to the damaging rumors or “lardons” that were circulating about her and the king, and then creates a striking contrast in tone with the phrase “Défiez-vous du cœur humain, / Puisque toute chair est fragile.” These words seem to echo familiar Salesian religious discourse. Implicity, then, the poet is suggesting that the real cause of la Maintenon’s vaunted public spirituality lies not in true piety, but in hypocritical efforts to cover up a reputation gone bad, rather like Arsinoë in Le Misanthrope. The ninth and tenth stanzas move on to a devastating physical portrait of Maintenon, adding to the previous allusions to her hair grey hair by emphasizing her sunken eyes and the lost charms Time has erased. The presence of appealing young ladies in her entourage could only result, states the poet, in fanning the fires of the King’s adulterous lust. Pourquoi lui montrer de si près Cet amas de jeunes atraits, 9 That is to say, the late Scarron. 10 Reference to Scarron’s burlesque poem, Typhon, op. cit. 11 Furetière gives as a secondary definition of lardon “donner son lardon a quelqu’un,” meaning to seek to make a raillery or injurious brocart about him or her. The Cantique à Madame de Maintenon and the Outbreak of Émigré Satire PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 289 Craignez que votre complaisance, En multipliant ses désirs, En tentant sa persévérance N’ensevelisse vos plaisirs. Vous avez les yeux enfoncéz, Tous vos appas sont efacéz Semblable à l’antique Sibyle, Il ne vous reste que la voix, Cet agrément est fort utile; Mais il peut manquer quelquefois. Instead of the saintly comparisons Maintenon openly sought as patroness of the convent-like St. Cyr, the poet likens her to the pagan Sibyl to create an air of witchcraft. Thus, her supposedly oracular voice, instrumental in forming Louis’s policies against the Protestants, would implicitly come from the underworld rather than from Heaven, revealing her as a tool of Satan bent on persecuting the true Christians who had sought protection in the Refuges of London and Amsterdam. It is no coincidence that the poet proceeds in stanza eleven to evoke l’éminence grise himself, père La Chaise, who was widely portrayed by exiles and Protestants as an evil sorcerer, not too different from Tolkien’s Saroman, because of his obvious role in the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Pour revenir de si grands maux, Faites des efforts tous nouveaux; Vous avez le Père la Chaise, Consultez cet homme de bien, Il est héritier de la Fraise, De Simon le Magicien. Son Patron fût un grand Docteur, Ou plutôt un habile Acteur; C’est de lui qu’est venu l’usage De convertir les gros Pechez, En vertus du premier étage, Et voilà ce que vous cherchez. This alleged similarity between La Chaise and Simon the Magician, or Simon Magus, might seem far-fetched to our age, but would not have been judged obscure by the Biblically-savvy exiles who swarmed around London’s Seven Dials district. Simon Magus was mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles and other early Church documents as an antagonist and tempter of Saint Peter. He was the source of the term simony, for he had tried to buy Peter’s supernatural powers granted him by Christ. He was accompanied in some versions of the legend by a female accomplice named Helena or Athena who James F. Gaines PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 290 could be associated with Maintenon. In The Divine Comedy (XIX, 1), Dante also seems to accuse Simon of a form of pandering, which alludes here to La Chaise’s role in the king’s morganatic relationship with Maintenon. La Chaise, one of the most famous numismatists of the seventeenth century, also relates to Simon Magus’s legendary thirst for gold. The “fraise,” or ruffed collar, imputed in the forgoing lines to La Chaise, had become an iconographic symbol of miserliness, notably in Molière’s Harpagon. When the poem moves on to speak of La Chaise’s predecessor as confessor, focus apparently widens from Simon Magus to include an actual relative of La Chaise, Father Pierre Coton, the controversial Jesuit confessor of Henri IV and Louis XIII. Thus, both La Chaise and Coton are subtly linked by the poet to the practice of casuistry, which had been lambasted by Pascal with overwhelming effect in Les Lettres provinciales. Implying an ideological kinship with such a serious thinker and successful satirist is a skillful tactic that the anonymous author of the “Cantique” exploits to give weight to his increasingly damning accusations. The thirteenth stanza blasts casuistry as a Papal abomination, once again placing Maintenon in the cross-hairs of religious criticism and reminding the Protestant readership of her spiritual association with what Luther’s mighty hymn revealingly called “our ancient Foe.” Quand vous en auriez plus commis Que les Papes n’en ont remis; Il a pouvoir de les absoudre, Et si vous deviez l’en payer, 12 Vous pouriez bien vous y résoudre Sans qu’il vous falut trop prier. Not even the Pope, arch-enemy of the Reformation, has ever absolved (the author claims) as many sins as Maintenon has committed. Of course the émigrés in London and Amsterdam would be revolted by her disavowal of their church, regarded as their only true path to salvation. Such perceived betrayal and heresy would be even more damning in their eyes than her morganatic marriage or her conniving with Louis and La Chaise. According to the poet, the gravity of these errors would not, however, prevent the Pope from pardoning each and every offense, provided that she pays for it. Jesuit casuistry is thus compounded with medieval selling of indulgences, a practice long abandoned by the post-Trentine Catholic Church, but which, suggests the author, still goes on in more round-about fashion. The ironic double sense 12 The use of “l’en” here instead of “les” seems justified by the fact that she would be paying not for the sins themselves, but for the possibly bogus act of absolution, which has not been represented by a noun complement. The Cantique à Madame de Maintenon and the Outbreak of Émigré Satire PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 291 of “prier” in the last line, recalling prayer but signifying here the act of solicitation, reinforces the association of money and false piety meant to undermine Maintenon’s official image as a saintly woman. The Cantique closes simply in an appropriately off-handed fashion, with a rather disingenuous desire to spare la Maintenon further melancholy. The poet implies her complete mortification could only be the inevitable product of his comically moral “corrections.” He pretends to take the artistic high ground, assuming his lessons must have reached their mark. Instead of applying a coup de grace, the satirist retires disdainfully, leaving a bloodied but still animate royal carcass for others to finish off if they wish. Mais je me lasse de chanter, Et vous peut-être d’écouter; Faisons trêve à la Musique, Il est de certaines chansons Qui rendent fort mélancholique, Surtout quand ce sont des leçons. True to the end to his stated attitude of outrageous exaggeration, unlimited rhetoric and unabated fun, the writer thus adds a concluding flourish to his victory. After all, the point of the song is to be repeated in every salon and alley of London, if possible, so brevity is definitely a more important goal than any kind of intellectual prise de position. One must also consider, though, that the final reference to music serves a double purpose, harking back to the designation of the poem as a cantique. A canticle is inherently a religious song, often associated with the lives of saints, such as the Old French Cantique de Sainte Eulalie. It is noted in the brochure that this song is to be sung to the tune of “Sur l’Échelle du Temple.” This tune had been used for satiric purposes for decades, going back at least as far as the Fronde period. Its very title is suggestive, for the échelle in question was actually a place of high justice in the jurisdiction of the Temple district of Paris, where it had been used to expose criminals to public scorn, and bigamists in particular. 13 The selection of the melody was thus no accident, in that it focused attention back on Maintenon’s alleged life of religious crime. 14 13 The ladder or platform in question, no less than sixteen meters high, had been located in the medieval rue de Sainte-Avoye adjacent to the modern rue du Temple. 14 I am grateful to Buford Norman for tracing down information on the “Echelle du temple” tune in an article in the Revue des deux mondes, vol. VII, 1850, p. 1029, about Polichinelle, which states “L'air de ces couplets n'est pas moins remarquable que les paroles… un très bon juge en ces matières et en beaucoup d'autres, M. Edouard Fournier m’assure que c'est l'air très connu : on [le] chanta [pour] la plupart des mazarinades, et [il] était renouvelé de l'air des Rochelois, composé, diton, pour le cardinal de Richelieu”. The music in question, the “Air des Prévôts des James F. Gaines PFSCL XLVII, 93 (2020) DOI 10.2357/ PFSCL-2020-0019 292 The goal of propaganda is to achieve a desired standard of emotional arousal and a definite association of evil with a target character and then to move on. While it is true that the “Cantique à Mme de Maintenon” thus may justifiably be categorized in terms of prosody as a mediocre poem, it largely abandons any pretense to aesthetic excellence. One must remember the context in which it appeared, along with the parodies of Boileau’s failed “Ode sur la prise de Namur.” That poem, ironically coming not too long after the Art poétique that was supposed to consecrate an eternal standard of literary classicism, was attacked by other parodies as an unqualified embarrassment that denoted the practical downfall of poetic Classicism itself, all squabbles between Ancients and Moderns aside. To take up an image from the beginning of the “Cantique,” one might argue that the Age of Louis XIV and the initiative of Classicism had effectively mummified themselves. Why, then, blame a humble polemical ditty for derogating to an already decrepit non-political standard? The “Cantique” proposes no dishonor to the preceding aesthetic greatness of giants like La Fontaine or the younger Boileau himself. Instead, it may be viewed as a sign of its turbulent times, standing as Dancourt’s comedies do to the towering achievements of Molière. The émigrés of London and Amsterdam were themselves on the cusp of change, as proven by the praise for William III in other railing rhymes that accompany this text in the published brochure. While stopping short of turning his back on French Classical culture, the anonymous poet proves more than willing to affiliate himself with the forces opposed to the political Louis XIV and his view of the world. The fact that literature had also turned a corner and was entering an entirely new age was more obvious in some ways to the British public, even a Franco-British one, than to a Parisian intellectual world that would need a few hand grenades from the likes of Voltaire to impress them of their need for nouvelles lumières. marchands” is number 763 in the Clé du caveau, p. 324 of the 1811 edition, which is available on the web at http: / / archive.org/ details/ laclducaveau00cape. In Norman’s judgment: “It's a catchy tune, and works perfectly with octosyllables: short-short-short-long, short-short-short-long, etc..”.