While Captain Manechini returned to Rome with this refusal, Marie and Hortense were visited by the lieutenant general of Provence, the Count of Grignan, who offered his hospitality and protection. The Countess of Grignan sent the women fresh clothing, remarking that they were traveling “like two heroines out of a novel, with plenty of jewels but no clean linen.”
11
She reported her observations in letters to her mother, Marie de Sévigné, and the comparison captured the imagination of other men and women who were waiting to see what the two fugitives would do next. The flow of letters sending news of the escapade to more distant places accelerated. Though some onlookers seemed to just lean back and prepare to enjoy the show, others were more judgmental and took sides with either the women or their husbands. Rumors quickly spread that the women, like the character of Angelica in the popular romance
Orlando Furioso,
were roaming the countryside in pursuit of wandering lovers. In her reports to the Count of Bussy, Madame de Scudéry was quick to accept this version of events and condemn the errant ladies (though neither of the men she mentioned were
in fact in Provence at the time): “Mme Colonna and Mme Mazarin have entered Aix; the word is that they were disguised as men come to see the two brothers the Chevalier de Lorraine and the Count of Marsan. . . . To tell you the truth I can imagine that one can love, but I cannot understand how a lady of quality can bring herself to renounce all manner of honor, proper deportment, and reputation. I declare, there should be a corporal punishment for such uncontrolled ladies.”
12
Although corporal punishment was not an option he was yet prepared to exercise, Lorenzo wasted no time in trying to bring his wife back to Rome. Although the Roman gazettes portrayed him as morose, inconsolable, and locked in his palazzo, in fact he was busy in his retreat, orchestrating a massive effort to force his wife's return. He directed his energy to fully exploiting his vast network of contacts. And he continued to send a steady stream of messengers to try to negotiate with Marie in person, each one bringing increasing pressure on her as she began to recognize how difficult it would be for her to find protection from people who had any reason to fear her husband's influence. After Captain Manechini's failure, Lorenzo sent another emissary, Jean-Baptiste de Saint-Simon, first to talk with Marie in Aix and then to continue north to Paris and Versailles and attempt to receive assurances in advance that neither the French king nor any of his subjects would offer his wife protection.
Saint-Simon was an eager agent. He had served as squire to the recently deceased Cardinal Antonio Barberini, who had close ties to France and had valued his French entourage. Now he was working for the opposite faction, as an agent of Cardinal Altieri, the most powerful statesman of Pope Clement X. Saint-Simon welcomed the opportunity to prove himself to Lorenzo Colonna by exploiting his contacts with both factions, and Lorenzo engaged his services, knowing that he could use him to argue for his interests
at the court of France. Saint-Simon's first assignment, though, was to persuade Marie to return to Rome, while also investigating all the circumstances surrounding her flight. He did not disappoint his new patron, sending Lorenzo frequent, detailed written reports on his inquiries regarding Marie's flight, spelling out exactly what he said in each conversation with her and what was said to him in reply. In a long letter describing his first encounter with Marie in Aix, dated June 10, 1672, he even seemed to relish the drama of the situation. Noting that the Count of Grignan had sent two armed guards to watch over the runaway sisters, he described to Lorenzo how he managed to gain an audience with his wife:
In the room I found two of M. de Grignan's guards with their uniforms and carabines. . . . Shortly after that I was admitted to their room where I found them both in bed. Madame said to me as I entered, “Well, Saint-Simon, what have you come here for? . . . I think that you never thought on Sunday morning when I spoke to you in Rome that you would be coming to see me here! . . . What are people saying about us in Rome?”
He replied to her that all conversations in Rome “are to your extreme disadvantage, for no one understands what your reasons are,” “all appearances are against you, no lady was ever treated as you were, if you want to know the truth you had no reason to take this resolution, believe me Madam do not push this further for the more these things are in the open the worse it is, what on earth did he want to do to you?”
He knows my reason! He knows what made me take the resolution that I did in order to preserve my life!
What, Madam, to preserve your life? You do a great injustice to Monsieur the Constable and to his reputation.
13
This report and others similar to it quickly persuaded Lorenzo that getting his wife to return home voluntarily was not going to be easy. So he turned to an alternative strategy, which was to effectively limit Marie's options if she failed to return to Rome. Instructions sent to his agents in all the cities where he thought she might stop made it clear that he would fight any effort to help her live independently of him. He was particularly concerned that she not be able to reside in France, even in a convent: “If she wants to go to Genova or Torino, I will agree to it, if she is in a convent in Italy, but I will never allow her to be in liberty except with me.”
14
Marie quickly realized that she would need to negotiate directly with her husband to achieve the independence she was seeking. Almost immediately after leaving Rome she began to write to Lorenzo, urging him to understand the seriousness of her decision. Unwilling to rely on her husband's emissaries to communicate her point of view, she argued with him in her own words, never quite abandoning a polite tone but always utterly clear in describing her own intentions. The tone she took in her first letter to her husband following Saint-Simon's visit was one she would continue to assume throughout her correspondence with Lorenzo for many years to come:
As concerns what you have conveyed to me, I can tell you that I do not reject the offers you have made me; on the contrary, it will be a pleasure for me to let it be known that you still have regard for me. As for the decision I took to withdraw to France, it was prompted only by the worries I had about my health; and as well, by what my brother said several times to me and to others about the designs someone had against me. (I could say more but will keep silent, for you would not want such things to be common knowledge.) Yet I will accept whatever you are kindly disposed to do for me, and you must never doubt that, wherever I am, I will give you a full account
of myself. And I will make you understand that this decision of mine was not a whim, but rather that it was an attempt on my part to ease my spirit and live out my days in peace. This is all I can say to you, with the assurance that you will always find in me the cordial feelings and affection I have always had for you. I send my love to the boys with all my heart. And assure them that I will never forget them.
15
Hers was a delicate balancing act. She had left her husband but hoped to retain some measure of his support. She had fled his home in secrecy and brought shame upon his family, but she wanted to negotiate her independence. She knew her husband's public image was everything to him. Although this meant that her actions had enraged him to distraction, it also meant that he would be unwilling to let her bring even more embarrassment to the family by roaming around the country without suitable escort or financial support. What else did she hold over him? The threat in her letter (“I could say more but will keep silent”) was indirect, but crystal clear.
From the moment of her departure, both Marie and her husband had been posting letters to the king of France petitioning for his support. Marie had entrusted Hortense's valet, Pelletier, with delivering her letters in person, and he had set out from Marseille. Lorenzo sent letters using multiple contacts, from the French ambassador to his personal agent Saint-Simon. It was Marie's misfortune that her own letters did not reach the king quickly. During the summer of 1672, Louis was in Holland with his armies and had entrusted Queen Marie-Thérèse with a nominal authority in his absence. And Pelletier had bad luck in his role of courier. He had been successful, after a long time, in obtaining letters for Marie from Louis XIV and his representatives. But he had also been robbed and beaten by bandits en route. Some of the letters he was carrying were lost. Lorenzo's couriers had better protection, and better luck,
so by the time Louis XIV replied to Marie, he had already been amply briefed by the emissaries her husband had sent.
After Saint-Simon left Marseille, Hortense and Marie did not wish to linger there to wait for official authorization to continue north toward Paris. Marie's memoirs describe her travel strategy and how she managed to pursue her itinerary while also evading the agents of both the Duke Mazarin and the Prince Colonna who the sisters knew had been dispatched to intercept them. The women stopped first at the medieval town of Mirabeau, where the local lord gave them shelter for a few days but could do nothing to turn back the Duke Mazarin's agent, who arrived with orders to kidnap his wife. Just in time, Hortense fled to a wooded area outside the chateau and Marie was able to convince the agent, Polastron, that she had already taken the road back to Italy. This made Hortense decide that she would have to take a different route from Marie's:
And that very night Madame Mazarin set out for Savoy, accompanied by the aforementioned knight (Mirabeau), by Nanon, and by half of the guards, the other half having stayed with me. This separation from my sister was very painful for me, and in return for the promise she made me to stay in Chambéry, where she was headed, until the king permitted her to live in France, I promised her not to go further than Grenoble, in order to be nearer to her and to have news of her more often.
16
Marie arrived outside of Grenoble in early July. She was pleased to have made it there without drawing great attention to herself and her party en route, and though it was quickly apparent that her presence in the city was known to some, including the local Duke of Lesdiguières, who sent his greetings, most people did not recognize her. She decided to stay in an inn outside the city walls rather than ask for the duke's hospitality, and there she awaited news from
her sister and from the king. She was not aware of the unfortunate adventures of Pelletier, nor did she know whether the king, in Holland, had received the letter she had sent him more than a month earlier. The first letter she received was from Queen Marie-Thérèse:
There finally arrived a gentleman sent by the queen, to whom the king had left the government of his realm while he was at war in Holland. He handed over to me a letter from Her Majesty in which she commanded me, but in the most obliging manner in the world, to remain wherever this gentleman who gave me the letter found me, adding that she had no doubt that such would be the intention of the king. I replied to this gentleman that I did not plan to go further and that I would obey Her Majesty's orders most scrupulously.
17
This was discouraging. Marie remained convinced that if she could gain an audience with the king he would support her, but she had lost precious time and did not understand what had happened to her messages. She also learned that Lorenzo was orchestrating his own lobbying interests at the French court. But she had no choice but to remain in Grenoble, as ordered, and try to gather as much information of her own as she could. She had written letters to her brother and to Ortensia Stella, explaining her decision and asking that they work on her behalf to help people understand the choice she had made and to soften the constable's attitude toward her. To Philippe she stressed the role he could play by assuring Lorenzo that she would do nothing further to damage the family name:
I beg you in the name of God to soften things with the Constable . . . for if I did not feel safe in his presence before, you can imagine that I would be even less secure now. Be assured, moreover, that I will not cause others to talk about me and I will do him no wrong, and also I ask nothing from him. You are clever, and if I have also the
fortune of your friendship toward me I will have no complaints about anything, and I will be obliged to you as the most grateful and tender of all sisters, who loves you with all her heart.
18
Marie's letters to the Countess Stella were more openly affectionate and trusting, and also apologetic, for she had offended her friend by not confiding in her from the beginning. Ortensia had originally come to Rome with Marie in 1661, to be Marie's principal lady-in-waiting. She had married the Count Stella in Rome and had been widowed before Marie fled. After her mistress's departure, Ortensia remained as a dependent living in the Colonna household. Marie had intended to leave a letter explaining herself at her departure but had been persuaded by others to tear it up. From Grenoble she wrote to Ortensia asking that she try to have one or two serving women from her household sent to join her, along with some fresh clothes:
My poor Countess, I have always loved you and I promise you that it was to save you from trouble that I did not confide in you, not that I doubted you, as I know well that you can keep secrets. . . . Send me Nene and you will give me great pleasure, and send some of my girls to me, those who will be happy to come join me. If they are permitted, have them bring me some clothes, I am in great need of them . . . you can manage my affairs now in Rome. I will be here for a long time, I am waiting for my brother. Madame Mazarin is in Savoy, I am very solitary and completely yours, Contessa.
19
In the first days of August, Marie finally received her response from Louis XIV. Along with this message, which has since been lost, was a cover letter from Charles de Créquy, first gentleman of the court and former ambassador to Rome, spelling out the king's wishes. Despite strong urgings from Lorenzo and his supporters,
including Cardinal Altieri and the pope himself, Louis stopped short of ordering Marie to return to her husband. But neither did he grant her permission to come to court, or even to Paris. Créquy opened his letter with reassurances of the king's goodwill and affection: “I assure you that he has for you every possible tenderness and in the midst of his prosperity it pains him to see that you are not happy.” But the king was trying to effect a reconciliation, and to achieve that objective he could not permit her to return to France other than to briefly visit her family. Failing that, she could remain in France only if she agreed to retire to a convent, preferably “one as far as possible from Paris, in order to prove that your motives for doing what you have done were not those which people have imagined.” As to the fears that Marie had expressed in her own letters, the king would be satisfied with a personal assurance from Lorenzo that his wife had nothing to fear from him: “I well understand that you may have fears, but I can also see that it is possible to receive assurances such that you will have no more reason to be afraid. And once word has been given to the master that I serve this will be, madam, a good guarantee of the promises made to you.”
20