But the most mismatched couple of all was without a doubt Louis XIV’s brother, Philippe, duc d’Orléans, called “Monsieur,” a transvestite who much preferred male lovers to female, and Elizabeth Charlotte, daughter of the elector of the Palatinate. Many at the French court sneered at an alliance with the elector, a man so poor he had to have his shoes patched. But German princesses were renowned for their fertility. Moreover, since the groom’s lover the chevalier de Lorraine was suspected of poisoning Monsieur’s beautiful first wife Princess Henrietta of England in a fit of jealousy, Louis XIV decided that an ugly second wife would stand a better chance of survival.
In 1670 when the hopeful bride arrived in France to meet the husband she had already married by proxy, she found an effeminate fop wearing rouge, diamond earrings, cascading rows of lace and ruffles, dozens of clanking bracelets, beribboned pantaloons, and high-heeled shoes. His face was submerged in a frizzy black wig, and waves of his cologne almost suffocated her. When introduced, Monsieur swept into a bow, taking in at a glance his bride’s broad, good-natured German face, freshly scrubbed from her journey, her broad German rear end, and clothing of such rustic simplicity that her new French ladies-in-waiting were appalled. The horrified groom whispered to his gentlemen, “Oh! how can I sleep with that?”16
Rising from her curtsy, the bride was so shocked at her new husband’s appearance that she couldn’t utter a word of her prepared speech. She finally managed to force a smile. We can hear her muttering to herself behind a painted fan, “Oh! How can I sleep with that?”
Elizabeth Charlotte endured a great deal during her thirty-year marriage that most royal brides were spared. Monsieur insisted on applying makeup to her face—perhaps in the hopes of rendering it more attractive—which she immediately scrubbed off. He often irked her by stealing her dresses and diamonds for himself and his male lovers. He enjoyed breaking wind—though perhaps that was the only thing they had in common. Elizabeth Charlotte, not wanting to touch him as she slept, positioned herself so far to the edge of the bed that she often fell off, waking up with a start.
It is a testament to this couple’s royal self-discipline that the marriage produced three children, though the clanking saints’ medallions that Monsieur tied to his private parts may have had something to do with it. When he finally called a halt to unwelcome sexual relations, Elizabeth Charlotte was tempted to tell his lovers, “You are welcome to gobble the peas; I don’t like them.”17
Sex with the King
In contrast to a prince’s forced performance with his wife, we can imagine his more enjoyable relations with his mistress—the tender foreplay, the artistic technique, the frenzied culmination, the drowsy contented aftermath. Imagine we must, for history has bequeathed us relatively few records of the sex lives of kings and their mistresses. Most sexually suggestive letters written by the enflamed pair were burned in the lifetime of their recipients—sometimes in the last moments of life—or shortly afterward by embarrassed relatives. A few such letters remain to titillate us, as well as numerous stories that shed light on the sexual relationships between kings and mistresses.
Barbara, Lady Castlemaine, described her royal lover Charles II as being magnificently endowed, prompting her friend Lord Rochester to write:
Hearing this couplet, Louis XIV’s mistress the princesse de Monaco remarked that while Louis’s power was great, his “scepter” was small compared to that of his royal cousin across the English Channel.
In the 1540s the future Henri II of France was so enthralled with his strawberry blonde mistress Diane de Poitiers that he had little appetite for his plain brown wife, the dauphine, Catherine de Medici. Studious Catherine was described by one ambassador as a fine woman when her face was veiled, and her face when unveiled resembled nothing so much as a plank of wood. She had been selected as Henri’s bride only because of her close relationship with the pope and a rich dowry including several cities, jewels, horses, and furnishings. In 1542 after nine years of marriage Henri and Catherine had produced no children, not even a pregnancy.
Though eighteen years older than her royal lover, Diane kept immaculate care of herself and was far sexier than the dauphine. Slender and athletic, Diane began each day with a bracing ride on horseback for up to three hours. Ever mindful of her clear white skin, she always wore a black velvet mask outside, daily drank a mixture containing gold, and bathed in asses’ milk and cold water. Terrified of wrinkles, Diane slept sitting up on pillows. Her beauty regimen worked. Henri made love to Diane almost every night and left his wife alone in her cold bed.
The penalty for a barren princess was often annulment, banishment, and life in a convent. Diane, while no great friend of Catherine’s, was pleased that she was dull and plain and had absolutely no influence over her husband. Diane feared a new alliance, a beautiful foreign princess who would win Henri’s heart away from her. Better, she resolved, to assist Catherine in bearing an heir.
On appointed nights, Diane would begin the lovemaking session getting Henri incredibly aroused, then send him upstairs to his wife’s room to finish the job. Having done his dynastic duty, the prince would go back downstairs to fall asleep in Diane’s arms. Soon after this practice began, Catherine became pregnant and bore a healthy son. Henri rewarded his mistress “for the good and commendable services” she had done for the dauphine.19
Intelligent Catherine did not understand what her husband saw in his aging mistress. Curious, she had an Italian carpenter drill two holes in her floor, directly above Diane’s bedroom. She and her lady’s maid would watch Henri and Diane make love in the flickering shadows of the fire, roll off the bed, and exhaust their passion on the floor. Catherine was astonished at the great gentleness Henri showed Diane and, weeping, told her lady-in-waiting that he had “never used her so well.”20
The lovely hazel-eyed Madame de Pompadour, who became Louis XV’s mistress in 1745, opined that she was used too well. For the poster child of royal mistresses had a disturbing secret—she was frigid. There is some evidence that indicates she suffered from a chronic vaginal infection with a foul white discharge, for which there was no cure at the time. “I have acquired a cold sea-bird,” lamented Louis XV.21 Sometimes he was so disappointed in her performance that he would leave her bed without the usual good-bye kiss.
Louis XV had a voracious sexual appetite and enjoyed lovemaking several times a day. But his mistress, always teetering somewhere between sickness and health, quickly became exhausted and had to pretend she was enjoying his exertions. We can picture her, a silken woman on satin sheets, her nakedness warmed by the candles’ glow, waiting for the king to be finished.
Hoping to stimulate her libido, Madame de Pompadour began to experiment with a diet of celery, truffles, and vanilla that only succeeded in harming her health. One day when her friend the duchesse de Brancas expressed concern, the royal mistress burst into tears and said, “I’m terrified of not pleasing the King anymore and of losing him. You know, men attach a great deal of importance to certain things and I, unfortunately for me, am very cold by nature. I thought I might warm myself up if I went on a diet to heat the blood…. You don’t know what happened last week, the King said it was too hot, an excuse to spend half the night on my sofa. He’ll get tired of me and find somebody else.”