CHAPTER II.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume III, Issue 115, 9 July 1875, Page 6

CHAPTER 11.

IE G-BAND MOMTAEQtTE —THE" KIWa'S'PEOMIBB. +4 On the morrow, Florence received an order to accompany the queen to Marly, at which place Louis XIV. at that time held his Court, in fact, it was to this most gallant of monarchs that she owed the appella^ tion o6 the Rose of St. Germains, by which name she was generad^T known at the French Court. The courteous king was indeed never insensible to the charms of the softer sex, and the delicate beauty of the Irish maiden, whom we have omitted to mention was distantly related to the brave Tyrconnell, had not failed to make a due impression on the heart of Le Grande Monarqiie. The mother of the fair Florence had been an English lady by birth, and had married one of the ancient race of the O'Neilli, and part of her daughter's early life had been spent in her father's native land, till some time after his death, which occurred when fighting in the French army under Turenne. Sir Patrick O'Neill had been the bosom friend of the brave Marshal; and thus it was that when Louis beheld Florence for the first time at the little Court of St. G-ermains, and heard her spoken ofas the daughter of a deceased friend of his favourite Turenne, he immediately became interested in her welfare. Florence had barely completed her sixth year when her father fell, whilst fighting valiantly beside the Marshal 5 his lady, a woman of great personal attractions and considerable merit, was in early youth the friend of Ann Hyde, Duchess of York, and some four years after her husband's death sh« repaired to London, and received a post in the household of the then Duchess, Mary of Modena, who soon looked upon Lady O'Neill in the light of a favoured friend 5 the health of the latter, however, soon began to decline, and she retired again into the solitude she so deeply loved, passing the greater part of her time in religious exercises, and •in the education of her daughter, of whom she was passionately fond, and died before Florence had attained her fifteenth year. Somewhat like herself, impulsive and affectionate, the heart of Mary of Modena turned instinctively to this orphan girl, whom she at once adopted, and whose engaging manners and warmth of disposition, endeared her to all in the noble circle in which she lived, till she became the ornament and admiration of the court. Many Buitors, too, had offered themselves for the hand of the fair descendant of the O'Neills, but Mary Beatrice would not sway the feeling of her portegee, so far as to extort a forced compliance with a royal command, though. both herself and the king were predetermined never to give their consent to her union with Reginald St. John. Indeed, to such an union Florence never could expect her royal protectors to agree, for St. John was a descendant of that stern upholder of the Commonwealth, who had been with Vane, Lambert, and others, actively engaged in sowing the seeds of discord, and rebellion against monarchy ; the present head of the family, too, was a Protestant, and disaffected towards the exiled James, in fact, Florence { could not urge a single point in hia favour, and was obliged to own to j herself that there were very sufficient reasons why her royal protectors I should refuse to sanction her union with Reginald St. John, to whom ehe had been betrothed on the day of her mother's death. It was very early when the royal party set forth; the summer morning one of the fairest, its dews had been quickly dried up by the first rays of the sun which shone cheerily on the chateau, and kisied away its last pearly drops as they rested on each blade of grasß and humble floweret, in the valley beneath. Despite the misfortunes of the royal pair, there were happy moments still for them to enjoy, andthe beauty of the day lent its aid on this occasion to banish from their minds, for awhile, the thoughts of their present overwhelming anxieties. Blithely they rode onward with but few attendants in their train, I and ere the day was far advanced they reached the royal retreat of Marly; approaching this villa palace by a noble avenue of trees, in the tasteful gardens of which were miniature lakes and graceful fountains, their marble basins filled with gold fish, and glistening with the floating lotus. The royal party now entered the principal part of tha edifice, a spacious square pavilion, near which six smaller ones were grouped around ; light and graceful indeed was the construction of the entire ' I building, supported by Corinthian columns, between which were j paintings in fresco. Each of the four sides of the pavilion was 1 crowned by a portico, and now aiceuding to the terrace, James and I his train entered one of the four vestibules which served to give ingress to as many suites of apartments on the ground floor, reserved for Louis and the princes of the blood, all of which communicated with the grand saloon, octagonal in its form, having four fire-places supported by lonic pillars, over which were painted figures representing the seasons. Many spacious windows, with gilded balconies and oriels, around which were grouped baskets of flowers supported by Cupids, lighted up this most gorgeous apartment.. Though in about his fiftieth year, at the time of which we write, Louis Quatorze had not lost one iota of that noble gracefulness of j mien for which he was so distinguished; his eagle eye was bright as 1 iv his youth, and the exquisite simplicity of his attire only added to the elegance oi' his demeanor. He was habited, as was most frequently the case, in a garment; of black reb'^t, relieved by a slight gold embroidery, and fastened by % single gok. button; his under vest was however of crimson stuff, elegantly embroidered, but not one single ring, or any jewel whatsoever, adorned the person of the king, save in his shoe and knee-buckles. Unlike all the former kings of France, he wore his blue ribbon beneath his vest, save when on State occasions it was suffered to hang at' full length, embroidered with precious stones, estimated at the immense value of eight millions of money. Saluting the little party with the dignified and graceful courtesy which so well became him, the handsomest and most majestic prince of his time, welcomed to Marly, James and Mary Beatrice, then turn-

ing to Florence, who as one of her ladies, was privileged to accompany her, he said : " Welcome to Marly, fair Rose of St. Gf-ermains. I promise you, young lady, if your royal patrons do not soon find you a husband, I shall myself look after your interests : nay, do not blush, for I vow you shall be my protegee unless your name of O'Neill, time-honoured as it may be, be not quickly changed for another ; for, remember, I never forget your father was the intimate friend of my brave Turenne, and it -would please me to ice you the wife of some noble of my own Court." Vw^. Blushing deeply, the timid Florence stammered out a few words of grateful acknowledgment, intimating at the same time that she had no desire at present to change her state, while Mary Beatrice, aware of the interest the courtly monarch really felt for Florence, inwardly resolved that, if possible, she should not cross his path again ; she had, in fact, no desire to see the innocent and pure-minded Florence become the protegee of a king whose unbounded admiration of the female sex often led him to commit the grossest errors and the gravest faults. After avrhile Louis and James retired, the latter wishful to lay open to the French king his views and intentions, making him cognizant of the departure of Ashton to England, and confiding to the monarch the names of several distinguished persons in England who were zealously interesting themselves in his service. But the failure of the late attempt at the Boyne had weakened the hopes of Louis as to the restoration of the unfortunate James. Had he been able to have waived the decisive stroke at the Boyne some few weeks longer, the French ftee_l would have become masters of St. G-eorge's Channel, and could either have conveyed himself and his army to England, or have prevented aid from coming to William ; the unfortunate are sure to meet with censure, and whilst many blamed James for hazarding too much, others condemned him for leaving Ireland too soon. By the earnest desire of the qtieen, Tyrconnell had urged this hasty retreat, she having entreated him at any cost to save the king's person. Thus the truly unfortunate James was destined a victim of patience by ' Providence, his friends exercising him equally with his enemies. Louis -was dissatisfied with the line of conduct he had pursued, and, probably at the instigation of his ministers, he declined to aid another expedition. James had keenly felt the censures which had been passed upon him ; but hope still led him on, and painful as was his conference with Louis, his sanguine nature did not yield, find when it was concluded, and accompanied by the French king, he sought Mary Beatrice, Avho with her attendants wandered awhile in the shady groves of Marly, no trace of discomfort was visible on his countenance. Nevertheless Louis was truly noble and generous, his kingly nature had developed itself in his dealings with the exiled monarch, whom he "would have rejoiced to have placed again on the throne, now usurped by the most worthless of daughters and ungrateful of nephews. - Heavy, indeed, were the misfortunes with which our second James was visited ,• he might have used with truth the language of our great poet, and exclaimed with King Lear :—": — " Mow sharpei- than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thanJcless child." The cool and hardened cruelty of Mary, his most favoured daughter, stung him to the quick, for Bhe had heartlessly appropriated to herself the property of her step-mother ; amongst other things a costly cabinet of filagree, and denied even her father's request for his clothes and personal property, which request, with impai'allolcd barbarity, the ungrateful Mary refused to comply with. Evelyn j relates that she entered- Whitehall joyful as if bidden to a wedding feast. Transported with joy, 6he ran into the closets and examined the beds, lier coarse and unfeeling levity revolting the minds even of Bishop Burnett and Lady Chiircbill, and hurrying to take in her iron grasp the goods which had fallen into her possession. James had heard, too, that she had ordered that the standards and other spoils taken from him at the Boyne aneroid be carried in procession and hung in St. James's Chapel. Whatever may have been his faults^he had been to both his daughters the most indulgent of fathers ; of their unparalleled wicked- j ness and abandonment of filial duty, no doubt can remain on the minds of posterity. • But return we to our story. Not without an end in view had James sought Louis on the occasion we have spoken of ; but he was confident in his expectations of a successful rising, through the unceasing efforts of his friends in England, and so well did he disguise his discomfiture at the result of his interview with the French king, that Mary Beatrice vainly tried to read in his countenance whether there was further aid to be expected for the carrying out of their plans. One short hour more was passed in the enchanting spot which the luxurious monarch had chosen for his retreat when he wished for such solitude as in his high position he could obtain. A rural fete had but recently been given, and as no cost was ever spared, trees of considerable size had been transported hither from the forests of Fontaiubleau and Compiegne, in order to add, by the rich beauty and luxuriance of their foliage, to the pleasantness of the scene, and a very little later to fade away and give place to others. , This was the first time Florence had visited Marly, and the Singly Louis, who, out of affectionate memory for the good Marshal Turenne, j bestowed upon him so much notice, bade her remember she would ever find a friend in him, adding, ere he bade adieu to the royal exiles, with somewhat of emotion, and an unusual moistening in his eye ; " your father, my fair O'Neill, fell by the side of my brave Turenne, co bear in mind that if, at any future time, trouble should fall upon you, or you should require some favour granted, which my brother and sister of England may not have it in their power to confer, then forget not that in that hour of need or distress, you have permission to seek the aid of Louis of France." Florence raised to her lips the hand of le Grand Monarqve, and with deep emotion, faltering out her thanks, fell into the little train ■which had accompanied the royal exiles from St. Germains, and who, having made their adieus to King Louis, prepared to return thither.