o belongs to my subject only through
a single phase of a stormy and eventful history. No study of the salons
would be complete without that of the Grande Mademoiselle, but it
was not as the leader of a coterie that she held her special claim to
recognition. By the accident of birth she stood apart, subject to many
limitations that modified the character of her salon and narrowed its
scope, though they emphasized its influence. It was only an incident
of her life, but through the quality of its habitues and their unique
diversions it became the source of an important literature.

Anne Marie Louise d'Orleans, Duchesse de Montpensier, has left a very
distinct record of herself in letters, romances, memoirs and portraits,
written out of an abounding fullness of nature, but with infinite detail
and royal contempt for precision and orthography. She talks naively
of her happy childhood, of her small caprices, of the love of her
grandmother, Marie de Medicis, of her innocent impressions of the people
about her. She dwells with special pleasure upon a grand fete at the
Palais Royal, in which she posed as an incipient queen. She was then
nineteen. "They were three entire days in arranging my costume," she
writes. "My robe was covered with diamonds, and trimmed with rose,
black, and white tufts. I wore all the jewels of the crown and of the
Queen of England, who still had some left. No one could be better or
more magnificently attired than I was that day, and many people said
that my beautiful figure, my imposing mien, my fair complexion, and the
splendor of my blonde hair did not adorn me less than all the riches
which were upon my person." She sat resplendent upon a raised dais, with
the proud consciousness of her right and power to grace a throne. Louis
XIV, than a child, and the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles II, were
at her feet. The latter was a devoted suitor. "My heart as well as my
eyes regarded the prince de haut en bas," she says. "I had the spirit to
wed an emperor."

There were negotiations for her marriage with the Emperor of Austria,
and she thought it wise to adapt herself in advance to his tastes. She
had heard that he was religious, and immediately began to play the part
of a devote so seriously, that she was seized with a violent desire to
become a veritable religieuse and enter the convent of the Carmelites.
She could neither eat nor sleep, and it was feared that she would fall
dangerously ill. "I can onl