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In the Shadow of the Sun King: The Winding Road to Versailles
In the Shadow of the Sun King: The Winding Road to Versailles
In the Shadow of the Sun King: The Winding Road to Versailles
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In the Shadow of the Sun King: The Winding Road to Versailles

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The court of King Louis XIV was the envy of all Europe for its grandeur and etiquette. Marc Esprit, a poor but clever boy from Normandy, vows that he will be part of this exotic scene. He encounters Zoe duBois, a free spirited ward of the court who will change his life and ambitions in ways this would-be aristocrat could not predict.

After serving as a soldier, young Marc travels to Venice, where a man does not need a title to become successful. With borrowed money, he acquires a ?eet of ships. Trade in middle-eastern spices and luxury goods makes him a wealthy man. When he saves the Sultans treasure ship from pirates, he receives an unexpected gift and some disastrous news.

Marc again meets Zoe, now penniless after the death of her titled husband. They travel to Sicily and Greece, but he deserts her on a remote island to pursue his ambition. At last, he has the opportunity to serve the king of France. Five years later, he returns to Zoe. After an acrimonious reunion, she agrees to come to Paris, but again she complicates his life

Ms Jamison sheds light on the seventeenth century, a period of war, poverty, power struggles, and splendor. Its all here -- drama, betrayal, religious con?ict, and sex.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAbbott Press
Release dateFeb 1, 2012
ISBN9781458201706
In the Shadow of the Sun King: The Winding Road to Versailles
Author

Leila W. Jamison

Leila Jamison’s interest in French history, especially that of the time of King Louis XIV, was fueled by her extensive travels within France. She has edited and written articles for professional publications. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

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    In the Shadow of the Sun King - Leila W. Jamison

    Chapter I

    Marc stood on the deck of his new ship, the Artemis, moored at the Venice shipyard, and smiled with satisfaction. He was sure he was going to make a good deal of money, perhaps a fortune, and he was only twenty-one. He now headed the Argosy Trading Company along with two partners, Captain Dorn Partyka, who had instructed him in seamanship, and Vittorio Velati, who had taught him soldiering. He looked around the ship with pride, eying the pristine white sails, the massive rigging that was making a drumming sound in the stiff breeze, the shining, varnished deck, and the crew working diligently at the task of preparing the ship for her first voyage. His ship, his men, his coming success! This was his first real possession and it had taken fourteen years of hard labor to reach this point. He wished his uncle, Simon Garhuus, was still alive so that he could see him now. It was Simon who always referred to him as the bastard he was forced to raise and told him when he was a child that he would never be more than a common laborer.

    Marc was born in Honfleur at the house of his Uncle Simon and Aunt Paula. His fifteen-year-old mother, Paula’s younger sister Anna, had written from her parents’ home to ask if she could stay with them temporarily. She wrote, Our parents and I are constantly quarreling, and I am so nervous I am afraid it may injure my baby.

    Paula, a kind soul, agreed. She thought the baby would be company for her son Henri, who was two years old. He would have a playmate when the baby grew older.

    While Paula was plain and serious, Anna, with her black curls and blue eyes, had a winsome personality. Sometimes she even made Simon smile. When Anna arrived, she told Simon and Paula that her husband was fighting in the Netherlands in the war that had been dragging on for thirty years. Paula asked when she had been married, as she had not heard about it.

    It was a small, quiet wedding because Mother did not approve of Jacques Esprit. He is a common soldier, but I love him so much and I made such a scene that they allowed the marriage. When I told our parents I was with child so soon, and he so far away, they became angry. I have had a terrible time. But Jacques is a good man. When he left for the war, he gave me all his savings. Look, I have enough money to keep the baby and me for a good while. I can pay you for letting me stay because I don’t want to be a burden.

    Baby Marc was born six months later, on St. Mark’s feast day, April 25, 1638, a healthy infant with a cap of curly black hair and amazingly clear, gray eyes the color of pewter, fringed with long black lashes. When Paula wrote to her parents about the birth, she received no reply. She guessed they were still angry with Anna for moving to Honfleur.

    The following September the people of Honfleur were startled to hear the pealing of the church bells. Everyone rushed to the town hall to learn the reason. News had arrived that a future king of France had been born. All the people shouted Vive le Roi and proceeded to celebrate the long-awaited heir to the throne.

    After twenty-three years of marriage, Queen Anne had given birth to a nine-pound robust baby boy. Her husband had been ready to send his wife to a convent because she had not produced an heir to the throne. The marriage would have been annulled, but it was not the Queen’s fault that she had not conceived. Louis XIII was a cold man, suspicious of people, especially women. A chronicler of court gossip wrote that Louis was forcibly led, kicking and screaming, to the nuptial bed on the wedding night. Through the years, he rarely visited his wife’s bedchamber. One night, when a storm prevented the king from reaching Paris, he opted to spend the night at a castle where the queen was visiting. Louis and Anne clung together for comfort as the lightning struck nearby and the thunder hammered overhead.

    Anne had prayed fervently that she would bear a son, and when the baby was born, she was convinced that he was a gift from God. The little dauphin was termed Dieudonne (gift of God). All of France celebrated the birth of Louis. The royal astrologer predicted he would have a dazzling reign and would become known as the Sun King. But the astrologer’s horoscope missed a connection between the dauphin and a baby in Honfleur.

    As soon as he was aware of his surroundings, Marc displayed an alertness that developed into a great curiosity. He walked and talked early and it was soon apparent that he was precocious. Anna taught him the alphabet and continually stressed the importance of learning. Little Henri was thrilled with his new cousin. Anna read stories to both boys, and like many French people of that era, she especially enjoyed the Greek myths. The boys were fascinated with the antics of the ancient gods who mischievously meddled in human affairs. When Marc was old enough to understand, Anna said to him, very seriously, You must not spend your life in this backward town. You should travel and see the great cities of Europe, Paris, Rome, Venice, where you will learn about great art and literature. I hope one day you can visit Greece because that is the cradle of our civilization.

    Although Simon wondered why she did not return to her parents’ home, the subject was not discussed, and Paula was surprised that Anna did not hear from her husband. Surely she had written to him to let him know about his son? Perhaps he had died in battle; it would take a long time for the news to reach them. Anna often said what a loving, generous man he was.

    Marc’s early childhood was pleasant. His mother made sure that she helped Paula run the house so that she would continue to be welcome. Simon was gruff, but that was his nature. If either boy misbehaved or did not do his chores, he would beat him, as all parents did then. Simon hired a tutor for Henri when he was six and Anna, using the last of her precious hoard of money, paid to have her son share the tutor. Marc, at age four, soon outshone Henri in learning to read. He particularly enjoyed arithmetic and did his problems with lightning speed. He coached Henri, who found the subject difficult.

    Henri’s interest ran in another direction. The first time he heard a violin, he decided that he wanted to learn to play the instrument. He coaxed his parents into buying him a violin and hiring an instructor. Marc’s greatest pleasure was listening to his cousin play. He was amazed at the melodies Henri could produce from the sheet of black marks before him. When he asked what those marks meant, Henri showed him what each note represented, along with the symbols for sharps and flats. Whenever Marc got the chance, he would come in and sit quietly while Henri practiced. He watched the notes on the staff and immediately got the connection of their meaning. He never got the chance to share the music for long because if his uncle saw him there, he would roar at him that he was wasting time and that he had chores to do. He had better learn that he would have to earn a living! These outbursts rendered music a guilty pleasure, which he felt for most of his life.

    When Marc was six years old, his adored mother died of a fever. The child lost his happy disposition, becoming quiet and withdrawn. Paula wrote to her parents of the tragedy and asked if they would not like to have their grandson with them. She received a sharp reply from her mother, saying that they were getting older, were not well, and had no interest in raising a grandson who should never have been born. Paula thought this was very strange.

    Two months later her mother wrote again to say that Paula’s father was ill and that she should come to visit him before it was too late. Simon did not like to leave his business but grudgingly left it in the care of his assistant, and the couple, along with Henri and Marc set out for Lisieux. When they arrived, Mme. LeBec said her husband was confined to his bedroom but that she would see to their comfort. She hugged Henri and praised him, but she patently ignored Marc. His grandfather never invited him to come to the bedroom to visit with him. The boy was perplexed but did not think too long about their odd attitude.

    After dinner, the adults sat in the small salon of the comfortably furnished house while the two boys played in the adjacent kitchen. Paula talked of Anna’s death and asked her mother why she had not responded. Mme. LeBec unleashed a tirade that shocked both Paula and Simon.

    Anna, her mother cried, never married that soldier, as she had told you. She was not married at all! She defied us when we wanted to send her to a convent to have the child and turn it over to the nuns to rear. Anna stubbornly refused to tell us the father’s name and when she began to show her pregnancy, we knew we would be disgraced. We were at the point of forcibly taking her to the convent when she ran away to Honfleur.

    Mme. LeBec scolded Paula for abetting Anna and said it was therefore her responsibility to care for the child. Simon Garhuus was shocked that he had provided refuge to an unwed mother. He called Anna a wanton and told Mme. LeBec that she should take the little bastard to raise. She protested, I am too old and we have disowned Anna for her conduct. You accepted Anna into your house, so you and Paula are responsible for rearing him.

    Marc and Henri overheard the ugly scene and could not make sense of it. Henri asked, Marc, what is a bastard? The other boy shrugged. I don’t know.

    Paula lay awake that night, trying to absorb all she had learned about her sister. Who was Marc’s father? She knew that Anna had never traveled far from the village where she was born. It could not have been one of the farmer’s sons, for she was sure her father would have gleaned this information and had the boy thrashed and further punished. Because Anna had defied her father so adamantly, he had to be someone who dared not be named. LeBec had an excellent standing as owner of the cider mill that processed the apples from the estate of Baron d’Esperance. He earned a good living even though he had to pay rent and taxes to the baron.

    Paula remembered that before she was married, their family had attended the yearly Twelfth Night party for the workers on the d’Esperance estate. While the peasants enjoyed a rollicking time in the barn, the LeBecs, as owners of the cider mill, had been invited to the house. The miller was important to the community. The landowner chose him and paid him well. Apples, the staple crop of Normandy, produced a good and profitable cider. The peasants also relied on the miller to grind the grain for their bread.

    Anna was fourteen at the time, gay, light-hearted, and very pretty. She had attracted the notice of Maurice d’Esperance, the eldest son, who had paid her great attention. Paula had not liked him, thinking him arrogant and petulant. He was handsome, though, and had beautiful gray eyes. Oh, God, she gasped. Marc’s eyes.

    Now Paula knew that this was the reason for Anna’s defiance. If LeBec knew this was the person responsible for his daughter’s condition, with his temperament he would have confronted his patron and would have lost his job, or worse, Paula thought. Poor Anna! To protect her father, she had not revealed her seducer’s name.

    Along with the local gossip that Mme. LeBec imparted to them during their visit was the news that Maurice d’Esperance had been appointed to the king’s musketeers in Paris, but had been discharged in disgrace for his immoral behavior. The baron was so angry that he had disinherited his son. No one knew where the young rake had gone after leaving Paris. Paula realized that Maurice had received the appointment just before Anna had come to Honfleur. Anna Esprit she had called herself—so close to the real name.

    Anna had chosen the name Esprit not only because it was close to the baby’s father’s name, but because it was a bold name. Esprit, a word particular to France, meant the spirit and intelligence that one presents to the world.

    A ghostly voice seemed to whisper to Paula, He did intend to marry me, I am sure. It was only that he was ordered to Paris.

    But, Paula thought, he must have given her the gold that she had brought with her, and it proved that he had intended to abandon her. She decided not to tell Simon about her conclusions because there was no proof, but touched by her sister’s sacrifice, she determined that she would see that Marc stayed in their home.

    M. LeBec died two days later, having never seen his orphaned grandson. The Baron d’Esperance, who dutifully attended the funeral, noticed the two little boys standing so solemnly by the grave and went over to comfort them. When Marc looked up at him, the baron noticed his clear gray eyes. He thought of his son, who had proved to be such a disappointment. He patted the boy’s head and said, You must grow up to be loyal and trustworthy. The most important rule in life: be an honorable man.

    LeBec had left a small amount of money to Paula, who decided that she would use it to clothe and educate Marc. The ride home to Honfleur was grim, as Garhuus was still angry, but Paula had persuaded him not to talk about Marc’s future until they arrived home.

    When their discussion finally took place, Garhuus said, The boy was born in sin and that makes him a sinner. Your sister gave birth outside of wedlock. He is a bastard.

    Paula pleaded, The boy is innocent and we should accept him. It is our Christian duty to rear him.

    Because Simon was a faithful churchgoer, he reluctantly agreed—but he would have to earn his keep. The visit to his grandparents turned Marc’s life from a happy, pampered childhood into miserable servitude.

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    Simon began to treat Marc as a servant instead of his nephew. Marc came into the shop at the rear of the house to learn with the other apprentices, starting with simple tasks such as sanding wood and patiently rubbing the finished furniture with many coats of wax. He also swept up the sawdust and kept the shop clean. His first trouble came when, asking a question, he called Garhuus Uncle Simon. Garhuus said sharply, Please to remember, in the shop I am Monsieur Garhuus.

    When his uncle was out of the shop, Marc would sneak back to the classroom. Paula was not unhappy that he neglected his duties, which, of course, she kept from her husband. One day when Henri was practicing his violin and Garhuus was not around, Marc left the door to the workshop open so he could listen. He found that the other men were enjoying it, too. When his uncle returned and slammed the door shut, his assistant, who had been there so long that he could argue with the boss, said, M. Garhuus, please leave the door open. We are enjoying the music and, actually, I think it makes us work better.

    Garhuus was annoyed, but at the same time, he was pleased that his son was being complimented. So the door remained partially open.

    Marc tried to apply himself, but his heart was not in his work. He was impatient with the repetitive tasks assigned to him. He determined that making furniture would not be his life’s work. He did enjoy studying the drawings and watching the joiner fitting the inlaid designs into the panels. Simon grabbed Marc and told him to get back to his own work. He did not approve of the boy’s desire to know how the skilled jobs were done. He thought the bastard was too meddlesome.

    Garhuus had invested in the town’s shipyard with two other men, M. Duchesne and the shipmaster, Captain Helmskirk, a Hollander. Because he felt that Marc was not diligent enough in his menial tasks, Garhuus talked to Helmskirk about taking him on as an apprentice, and upon approval he sent the nine-year-old to the shipyard to earn his keep. Marc had received no wages for working in the woodshop. The meager amount he got as a shipyard apprentice, Garhuus said, should be turned over to himself to pay for the nine years he had provided for the boy.

    If Marc was unhappy, he did not show it. Being away from the oppressive presence of his uncle, who always referred to him as the bastard, was perhaps worth having no money. He was still provided minimally with clothes—Henri’s outgrown clothing—and came home to a warm house and food. The women servants always left him a plate of food on the hearth for his return. They pitied the handsome boy, who always thanked them politely.

    Honfleur was a pretty town near the tip of Normandy, situated on the Seine estuary that led to the English Channel. The adjoining three-story houses were tall and narrow, fashioned of grey stone or red brick. The Garhuus house was much larger, as was the workshop behind it. The Church of St. Catherine dominated the town, but the sailors preferred the simpler chapel of Notre Dame de Grace that was a shrine.

    Honfleur’s prosperity depended on the shipyard and the warehouses that stored merchandise shipped to and from England and the ports of the German and Scandinavian states. Most ships built in Honfleur were sturdy mercantile crafts and fishing boats, but some large vessels were capable of crossing the Atlantic to Quebec. Early in the seventeenth century, many of the original colonists in Quebec were from the Honfleur area, and its traders had established a fishing station in Newfoundland. Honfleur was close to Le Havre, but that port was not enlarged and made into a major shipyard until the eighteenth century. Both Honfleur and Le Havre were to play dramatic roles in the coming years.

    On the wintry first day of his new employment, Marc trudged down the street under the iron-gray sky of dawn, facing into the sharp wind blowing from the estuary. He shivered beneath his old jacket while he munched on the hunk of bread that constituted the only meal he would have until he arrived home after dark. He soon got used to the hard labor outdoors, both in the winter cold and the summer heat. His work consisted of simple chores like shaving and sanding wood for the ship’s frame, running errands, and taking supplies to the workmen. He worked with boys who ranged from ten to fifteen years old. They were a tough bunch, some of them orphans who lived in the attic of one of the storerooms. Marc went there once and saw that people did indeed live in squalor. Rats were scurrying around and the beds were crawling with lice. The smell of urine was rank, as the chamber pots were often not emptied. He now realized that he was fortunate to have a clean and warm home.

    The boys constantly played tricks on the new apprentice, whom they eyed suspiciously because of his decent clothes and educated speech. He received a stunning blow to the head by one boy who seemingly carelessly swung around with a load of planks. Another one picked a fight and Marc had to defend himself. He was kicked in the stomach, and retreated with a black eye. The shipyard workers just stood by and cheered. He soon learned to fight back. Lifting heavy loads developed his muscles, and quick reflexes enabled him to parry blows. A look from his steely gray eyes grudgingly earned their respect. He found that life was simpler when he assumed a tolerant attitude toward their teasing, and he learned to make others laugh. The wharf rats (his mental name for his fellow apprentices) also taught him a new vocabulary that included coarse names for women’s body parts, and what to do with them. He learned oaths that would never be heard outside the dock areas.

    Henri came down to the shipyard one day. When Marc heard some of the other boys catcalling and saw them gathering around someone, he looked over and saw that it was Henri. The boys were taunting him: Look at the little duke in his fancy getup. Did you come down to watch the peasants work? Marc ran over and shoved them aside, using some of their own foul language. "Get out of here, batards, gros cochons," he yelled.

    Henri was a little shaken. His cousin put his arms around him and told him to ignore their rudeness. Did you come down to see me?

    Henri nodded. My father has ordered me to go into the workshop. He said if I am to own the company someday, I had better start at the bottom to learn the business. I don’t want to run the business, Marc.

    Henri looked at his cousin, noting his dirty face and clothing, his scarred hands, and realized that Marc had it much harder than he did. He felt ashamed.

    Oh Marc, you should not be working in such a place. You are too smart. Here I am crying about my problems. I am sorry.

    Marc patted him on the shoulder. Don’t worry. I won’t be doing this kind of labor for long. We all have to start somewhere. But you—you are going to be a fine musician some day. Meanwhile, it probably is important that you learn the business. You can still play in the evenings. It won’t be so hard, even if I failed at it, he laughed.

    You make me feel better, Marc. You always know what to say. If you can put up with this, I will try my best. Father has been unfair to you.

    One of the foremen yelled at Marc to get back to work and quit wasting time. He shrugged as he smiled and said good-bye to Henri. The other boys jeered. He swore that he had to improve his situation some way, and soon.

    Captain Helmskirk was at heart a kind man, and his crews were generally satisfied with their jobs. He demanded good skills but treated his men fairly. Marc had been at the yard for more than a year when he was put to work shelving supplies as they came in. The supplier had flagrantly cheated the captain, assuming that he was too busy to check and that his workers were too ignorant to catch the discrepancies. Marc, checking the order against the shipment, discovered that Helmskirk had not only been cheated on the quantity but that the total price was more than it should have been. When he reported it, the captain checked for himself and found that Marc had been correct. The supplier first blustered, but then grudgingly, with a nasty look at the boy, corrected the order. Helmskirk was impressed with Marc’s ability and said he deserved a promotion.

    Thank you, sir, I would like very much to work in the office. I enjoy working with figures. I know I could help to work on the accounts, and later I would like to learn to read blueprints and study what goes into designing a ship.

    Helmskirk patted his shoulder. I am going to give you a chance to see what you can do.

    Some of the apprentices were happy for Marc’s advancement; others resented it but knew enough not to confront him.

    Marc proceeded to amaze everyone with his quick learning. Helmskirk was astonished at how well Marc, at his young age, could handle the accounting, maintain supplies, and generally keep the office running smoothly, leaving him more time to oversee the shipyard and train new workers. Marc’s pay continued to go to his uncle, but the captain would occasionally slip him some money for his own use.

    Because Honfleur was a seaport, men often drifted in and out on their way to someplace else. There were soldiers and sailors from ships that stopped for repairs and to load or unload cargo to be warehoused until sent to other cities. Some had even been to the French colonies of Martinique and Canada.

    One sailor told him, You should see the furs we brought from New France—the beaver and otter that will adorn the men and women of the French court, and the savages who bring them to the trading post. Their faces are painted and they wear robes of feathers. Another one told him about the exotic half-breed women in the Caribbean islands who made a man reluctant to leave.

    Marc found their adventures fascinating and he yearned to go to the interesting places they talked about. I am not going to stay here forever, he vowed. I want to travel and make some real money. I intend to be noticed.

    One of his favorite people was Captain Partyka, who was a merchant and sailed the Mediterranean to the Middle East, from where he returned with exotic cargo—spices, perfumes, feathers, olive oil, and silk—that were in great demand. He had just made a trip to England and was en route to Venice. He enjoyed talking to the boy because he was not only an avid listener but also asked intelligent questions.

    Someday, Marc told him, I am going to follow in your footsteps. I have a great curiosity about that part of the world.

    Partyka sailed out of Venice because it was the main market for his goods. He told Marc, Venice is a city you would like because it is colorful, and home to many different nationalities. For hundreds of years, Venetians have made their fortunes through sea trade.

    One day a new man came to visit. He was captain of a company of Italian condottieri who were, except for the Swiss mercenaries, the best-trained fighters in Europe. Because the war was suspended during the winter months, he had allowed his men to spend time with their families until spring, when their services would be needed again. Captain Tomasino was voluble and regaled everyone with the feats of courage his men had performed while soldiering for the duc d’Alençon. They had fought in Spain, Milan, in the Netherlands—wherever they were sent. Marc was enthralled with his tales of adventure and concluded that this company of soldiers was where he could begin to make a name for himself.

    As he spent more time with Captain Tomasino after work, drinking beer in the tavern, he learned not only of the battles they had fought but how they traveled, how they were hired, paid, and supplied. Marc had grown quite tall and muscular, so it did not seem strange to Tomasino when he said he would like to join his company.

    Can you shoot a musket? Can you ride a horse?

    No, Marc replied honestly, but I learn quickly.

    Tomasino guffawed. Your ambition is a bit ahead of your usefulness.

    Marc told him that he was learning the shipping business and had already been promoted. He suggested that he could be useful in ordering and managing supplies for his troop. When they were not fighting, the captain could teach him the things he needed to know to be a real soldier.

    It was not uncommon for boys at thirteen to be part of a mercenary troop. There were generals in the French military companies who were only in their early twenties. Tomasino went to Captain Helmskirk to ask him about Marc’s qualifications. The captain was unhappy to hear of this new plan, but he honestly told Tomasino that Marc was not exaggerating: he was exceptionally bright. However, he was disturbed to be losing a valuable helper.

    Helmskirk called him to question him about this sudden change. Marc told him frankly that he had wanted for a long time to see more of the world, to rise in station, and to learn as much as he could in order to further his ambitions. Being a fair man, Helmskirk regretfully agreed that he should enlarge his horizons.

    I suspect that you would like to leave your uncle’s house.

    Yes, sir, Marc replied vehemently.

    Ah, your uncle is a sour old man. He does not appreciate what you could have achieved if he had given you the opportunity for a good education. Well, Marc, if Tomasino will take you, and you are sure this is what you want, go with my blessing. Just one favor, do come back periodically to see me.

    Marc was touched by his kindness. Although he was fond of his cousin Henri, this was the first time he had really felt gratitude toward anyone. To temper her husband’s resentment of her nephew, Paula never overtly showed affection for the boy. Marc had not known that she had insisted he be provided an elementary education.

    He assured the captain that he would return once he had established himself. Uncle Simon was not unhappy when Marc told him he was leaving, and Paula knew he would be going one day. Only Henri expressed his sorrow to see his cousin go.

    Image1.jpg

    Marc’s boyhood home in Honfleur

    Chapter II

    Not acknowledged by his father, abandoned by his mother’s family, Marc formed no alliance to any place or to any person. He had no regrets about leaving Honfleur to join the army. He hoped he could gain enough experience to lead a troop. Captains were often rewarded with large sums

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