Louise de Kérouaille

 

Louise de Kéroualle, studio of Peter Lely, c.1671
© Creative Commons

There a several variations of Louise’s surname, of both English and French origin, that have been used by her contemporaries and scholars. These include spellings such as: Keroualle, Kéroual, Carwell, and Querouaille - including a numbers of poorly spelled deviations of these. However, here I have chosen to adopt the most widely used version of her name: Kérouaille.

Louise de Kérouaille was born in September 1649 into the ancient and noble, but somewhat impoverished, Kérouaille family. During the English civil war, the family, despite their own increasingly dire financial circumstances, took in many royalists who found themselves in exile in France. The young Louise’s time was divided between her schooling at a convent and living at her parents’ estate in Brittany in virtual poverty.

Luckily for Louise, in 1668, through good family connections, she was appointed as a lady in waiting to Henriette-Anne, the wife of the Duc d’Orleans, Louis XIV’s brother. Henriette-Anne was also the beloved younger sister of Charles II, who fondly called her ‘Minette’. Despite her beauty, which was often described as childlike and innocent, and her prominent place at the French court, which was notorious for sexual scandals, Louise maintained her virtue and innocence. Her position in Minette’s household was the turning point in Louise’s life, as it not only put her in the spotlight at the French court, but crucially it led to her meeting, not a husband, but a king.

Catching the king’s eye

Charles and Louise first met in May 1670 when she travelled to England with Minette. On the surface this was supposedly a visit between the royal siblings, though we now know it was designed to allow Minette to act as a messenger between Charles II and Louis XIV regarding the Secret Treaty of Dover. The fifteen-day reunion between Charles and his sister was a happy time and standing at Minette’s side through it all was Louise. Here she witnessed first-hand the special bond between Charles and his sister and saw how capable Minette was at playing the political role of emissary.

However, just a few weeks after returning to France, Minette suddenly fell ill, crying out that she had been poisoned, and passed away after hours of pain the following morning. Charles was beside himself with grief and blamed Minette’s husband and his lover, the Chevalier de Lorraine, for poisoning her. Suddenly without position or support, Louise awaited news of a new appointment.

Château de Kéroual near Brest where Louise was born in 1649, which later became one of her properties.
© Creative Commons

Spotting a chance to supplant Barbara Palmer, the Duchess of Cleveland, George Villiers 2nd Duke of Buckingham negotiated for Louise to come to England to console Charles. Intrigued by the idea, Louis XIV saw an opportunity to plant a French beauty under the English king’s nose, which would strengthen his negotiating power by using Louise as a tool for French interests. She must have made a good impression when she first met Charles, because he quickly invited her to live at the English court. With her place close to Charles secured, Louise immediately began working for France’s interests, assuring him that Minette was not poisoned, befriending him as one of his sister’s closest ladies, and lending a pretty and kind shoulder to cry on.

Though rumours circulated and attempts were made to thrust Charles and Louise together (by courtiers that might benefit from the match and the ousting of other mistress like Barbara and Nell), it was some time before Louise would give in to Charles. She was young and virginal, but shrewd and wholly aware that her position as an unmarried woman made becoming the king’s mistress a risky prospect.

I now also saw that famed beauty (but in my opinion of a childish simple and baby face) Madamoiselle Quirreval
— The Diary of John Evelyn, 1 November 1670

In 1671, Louise and Charles were said to officially begin their relationship when the king was invited to stay at the Euston home of Lord Arlington during a gathering and party that was to last for fifteen days. Along with the French ambassador the pair colluded in luring Charles there by also inviting Louise in hopes of establishing her in the position of principal royal mistress. She didn’t have to work very hard to divert Charles’s attention from his other relationships. Barbara was already on her way out in terms of looks, influence and affection from the king and, although Nell had enjoyed considerable influence over the king up until that point, she was unceremoniously dumped at her house in Newmarket despite being pregnant with their second son, before an excited Charles set off for Euston. Charles had already become smitten with Louise in the year since she had joined the English court, and she in turn had been playing the long game of ensuring the king’s affections before she gave in to him. After days of drinking, feasting and entertainment, and some very public displays of affection, Louise and the King consummated their relationship. The plan had worked, and Louise quickly attained the place as Charles’ favourite.

Louise de Kérouaille, later Duchess of Portsmouth, by Henri Gascar c.1670 © Creative Commons

Louise de Kérouaille, later Duchess of Portsmouth, by Henri Gascar c.1670
© Creative Commons

Surpassing the other mistresses

Just ten months after she and Charles II had first made their relationship official, in July 1672, Louise gave birth to their son Charles, safeguarding her place in the king’s heart. For this service, Charles awarded her a pension of £10,000 per year and in 1673 she was given a position as a lady-in-waiting to Queen Catherine. Unlike Barbara, who had bullied her way into Queen Catherine’s household and tormented her with her very public affair with Charles, Louise was said to be respectful to Catherine, and the Queen found it much easier to tolerate the newcomer.

A year later, and much more swiftly than any of her rivals had been elevated in the peerage, she was created Duchess of Portsmouth, Baroness Petersfield, and Countess of Fareham. Her son too benefited from a quick elevation in the peerage, gaining his titles of Duke of Richmond, Earl of March and Baron of Settrington on 9 August 1675;  the following month he was given the Scottish titles of Duke of Lennox, Earl of Darnley, and Lord of Torboulton at just three years old -- a favourable treatment that irked her rivals Barbara and Nell Gwyn who had been advocating for their son’s dukedoms for years.

She was also Charles’ most expensive mistress, eclipsing even Barbara in her expenses, gambling debts, and luxurious lifestyle – something which few people had considered possible. Though Charles was happy to foot the bill for his darling ‘Fubs’ – the affectionate nickname he gave to her in reference to her plump figure. He thought nothing of providing her with a full royal escort home when she was upset after a falling out with the Marchioness of Worcester, or the fact that she had her chambers at Whitehall torn down three times to fully redecorate them, each time extending their size so that eventually she had twenty four rooms, leading diarist John Evelyn to record that she had a “splendid Appartment at Whilehall, luxuriously furnished, and with ten times the richnesse and glory beyond the Queenes.”

Her personal allowances also exceeded the other mistresses’ funds; by 1676 her main pension was established at £8,600 for life, while her additional annuities had increased to £11,000 by 1680; in the last four years of Charles’ reign she is believed to have received an incredible £20,000 per year in additional income.

On top of this, for her services to both England and France, she was handsomely rewarded. As well as her Duchy in England, she was awarded a French equivalent that came with estates and land. While Charles ensured that Portsmouth was kept in the most luxurious lifestyle, paid off her gambling debts and allowed her to spend as freely as she wished, Louis XIV gifted her for duties carried out; in 1675 she received earrings worth an astonishing £18,000, and she received pensions for life from the French crown.

A different personality

Unlike Barbara and Nell, the Duchess of Portsmouth was much less feisty and much more delicate in her treatment with Charles. While Barbara wielded a formidable personality and temper, and Nell was the cheeky and blasé actress, Louise was a sensitive, polite and polished aristocrat. She knew how to please the king without him feeling that she was forcing his hand and used gentle persuasion and tears to get what she wanted from him. Tears came easily to her: she was known for her quick emotions and bouts of sadness.

Nell, who had been supplanted by Louise, was especially irritated by her tendency to cry, deploying her sharp tongue to make fun of and torment the less than witty Duchess. She spread rumours that Louise wore dirty underclothes and called her ‘Squintabella’. Any attempts to engage in combative discussion always left Louise, who could never match Nell’s quick wit, deflated and reeling. When the pair met in court one day, Louise, who viewed Nell as an untitled commoner, tried to goad her:

“Why Nellie,” the Duchess of Portsmouth smirked, “you are grown rich, I believe, by your dress. Why woman, you are fine enough to be a queen!” 

“You are entirely right Madam,” snapped back Nell “and I am whore enough to be a duchess.”

Eventually the two became unlikely friends, and often played cards or took afternoon tea together – though Nell’s teasing of Louise never really stopped.

Louise de Kérouaille, Duchess of Portsmouth and her son Charles Lennox 1st Duke of Richmond and Lennox, by Henri Gascar c.1675
© Brudenell Collection, Deene Park

Barbara took a more flamboyant approach, constantly trying to upstage Louise, such as by wearing exceeding amounts of jewellery given to her by the king at a New Year’s ball, or riding around town in a coach and eight horses after Louise had taken a coach and six to the races. This didn’t last long though, and where Barbara used brashness and vulgarity, Louise was careful to always exude sophistication and refinement. She threw twinkling parties and masquerade balls, bringing a fun but positively aristocratic glamour to the court. Her entertainments were as legendary as her manners, and for some time she was the talk of Whitehall. It was clear that the new favourite had taken first place as the king’s chief mistress, and Barbara eventually skulked off to enjoy other affairs.

Louise was distraught whenever Charles’ eye wandered to other women. Barbara would react by throwing an almighty tantrum and then conducting her own affair; Nell, probably more savvy about the ways of the world, would simply carry on with her own life until he was ready to return to her; and Queen Catherine had learnt very early on that Charles would never be faithful. But Louise, who was probably under the impression that she was Charles’ one and only, took the king’s indiscretions completely to heart.

This was especially true when Charles gave her a horrible bout of venereal disease in 1674 which left her devastated and confined to her rooms for some time. By way of an apology he sent Louise a pearl necklace and a large diamond worth a combined total of about £10,000, which a French envoy reported “have so rejoiced her that I should not wonder if, for the price, she were not willing to risk another attack of the disease.” And, when Hortense Mancini, an old romantic interest of Charles, arrived at court in 1675, she completely enthralled the king and replaced Louise for nearly a year as his favourite playmate. Louise took to her bed, hid away, and sobbed almost constantly – earning her the cruel nickname from Nell of the ‘weeping willow’.

Luckily for Louise, the affair was not to last long, and soon she was back in Charles II’s bed and in his favour, a position which she enjoyed until the king’s death.

I have no doubt that the King talks everything over with her and that she is able to draw him to her way of thinking.
— Letter by Jean-Paul Barillon, French Ambassador, July 1678

Politics at home and abroad

Portsmouth was a true political force at court, but, unlike her rival Barbara, she was infinitely more successful. Rather than petty court dramas, she subtly pushed and pulled the strings of international diplomacy and politics between England and France. Whether it was the ongoing Dutch wars, the toleration of Catholicism in England, or the negotiations of Anglo-French alliances, Portsmouth whispered gentle but effective words into Charles’ ear as the big political decisions were being made.

The gifts that she received from Louis XIV certainly encouraged her handling of French interests, but Louise did not always blindly follow instructions from either side. As her influence and confidence grew, she often made surprising choices that either annoyed the French or surprised the English. The French were infuriated when she began interfering in the selection of a new wife for the king’s brother the Duke of York, lobbying for the daughter of her family friend while badmouthing the woman that Louis XIV had instructed her to advocate for. And, in a strange turn of events, she supported the Exclusion Bill which sought to prevent Catholics, and more pressingly, the Duke of York, from succeeding to the throne, despite the fact that she was a Catholic herself.

Both of these decisions, amongst others, took their toll on  her relationships with the people involved. And over the years, as her alliances chopped and changed to suit her needs, she became more vulnerable to her foes -- even those who had once considered her a friend and ally, such as the Duke of York. Louise’s foray into the serious political issues surrounding Catholicism and the succession in the mid-to-late 1670s, such as the Exclusion Crisis and the Popish Plot, had left her open to even harsher scrutiny from her enemies and the public.

I should do my selfe wrong if I tould you that I love you better then all the world besides, for that were making a comparison where ‘tis impossible to express the true passion and kindness I have for my dearest, dearest fubs.
— A letter from Charles II to Louise, Duchess of Portsmouth c.1684

Still, this didn’t cool Charles’ feelings towards her; and, in the early 1680s, she returned to politics with vigour. She was instrumental in strengthening the Anglo-French relationship. She travelled to France as an emissary, exchanged letters directly with Louis XIV, and continued to act as an intermediary with the French ambassador back in England. She also used her influence to reinstate her allies who had lost their offices during the Catholic crises, including the Duke of York, and it was almost certainly her direct involvement in her son’s official appointments that ensured that he was created a Knight of the Garter, Master of the Horse, and elected to the freedom of the borough in the town of Portsmouth.

By now, Louise really was like an alternative queen. Her grand apartments were like a mini-court: she held dinners for foreign ambassadors, and hosted secret meetings between Charles and whomever he had private business with. Even when they travelled, it was Louise that the courtiers followed and went to, knowing that it was she who could arrange an audience with the king, and that Charles was most likely to be found in her chambers. Often, Charles left Louise to host diplomatic receptions without him, confident in her abilities to entertain as well as to campaign for his needs.

Unpopular to the End

Louise%2Bde%2BKerouaille_Crimes%2Band%2Btreason.jpg

The 1680 pamphlet ‘Articles of treason and other high-crimes and misdemeanors against the Dutches of Portsmouth’

Among other ‘crimes’ that Portsmouth is accused of having committed in the twenty-two point article, it claims that she has “laboured to alter and subvert the Government in Church and State,” of plotting to “introduce Popery and Tyranny in the three Kingdoms,” and that she “does nourish, foment and maintain that fatal and destructive Correspondency and Alliance between England and France.”

Despite her firm place as the king’s chief mistress, life wasn’t always smooth sailing for the Duchess of Portsmouth. Even though she had Charles’ love and attention, she was widely despised. The English public hated her for being French and Catholic; the French aristocrats disliked a minor noble making such a rapid rise in wealth and status; and those at Charles’ court were infuriated by her power over the king and politics, especially given that she was often working for France’s interests. 

A blip in her relationship with Charles looked like it might topple her from her lofty heights. In 1682, Barbara returned to England after living in France for six years. With Louise’s self-confidence shaken, she turned to someone else for comfort: the handsome, young, French nobleman, Phillipe de Vendôme, whom John Evelyn called a “young wild spark.” The chemistry between them was undeniable and they began an affair. Charles was furious at the betrayal, but he didn’t confront his mistress directly – instead, he sent one of his advisors to put a stop to the relationship, insisting that Vendôme leave Louise alone. When Vendôme refused, Charles threatened and hounded him until Vendôme finally left for France several months later. But, to everyone’s surprise, the king immediately forgave his Fubs: after the incident he seemed to be more in love with her than ever.

Louise’s power had grown exponentially over the ten years that she had been at court, and her place at the king’s side, and her influence, despite how many people loathed her, was patent. Even the queen, who for a long time had been on fairly amicable terms with the duchess, complained to Charles in 1683 that Louise abused her position. The innocent and sensitive girl who had first arrived in England was now gone, and a powerful woman had taken her place. 

But the clock was running out for Louise: in February 1685, Charles II died. Before he drew his final breath, however, the duchess had one last job to do that she had been sent to undertake fifteen years earlier: to convert the English king to the Roman Catholic faith. While Charles lay dying, she summoned the French ambassador, Paul Barillon, to her chambers and told him in no uncertain terms that the king had wished to die as a Catholic. She insisted that Barillon urged the Duke of York and Queen Catherine, both Catholics themselves, to make this happen. They sent for a chaplain, whom Charles requested to be admitted into his bedchamber. Charles gave his confession, the chaplain administered the Holy Communion and, the following day, the king died a Catholic.

Unfortunately for Louise, her stock plummeted with the king’s death. Despite Charles having implored on his deathbed his brother, now James II, to take care of the duchess and be kind to her, little was done to ensure her personal comfort at court. She quickly fell from favour and was suddenly left isolated and alone. Almost immediately she made plans to leave for the continent and by August of 1685 she was living at the French court with her son. 

Money worries

After the Glorious Revolution, William III had Louise and her son’s annual pensions and additional sources of revenue blocked. With no income and having left many of her riches back in Whitehall in the hopes of one day returning to England, Louise turned to Louis XIV for financial aid. The French king granted her an allowance of £12,000 per year, and her son, the Duke of Richmond £20,000 per year though, given the enormous wealth and lavish lifestyle that she had become accustomed to under Charles’ support, these pensions left her feeling poor and isolated.

Louise de Kérouaille, Duchess of Portsmouth, by Pierre Mignard, c.1682
© National Portrait Gallery

During the 1690’s she divided her time between living in Paris, and on her estate under her Duchy in Aubigny. It was here she witnessed first-hand the poverty that her tenants and local peasants were experiencing, particularly because of a terrible frost in the winter of 1692, and she wrote to the controller-general of finance, pleading with him to reduce their taxes and exempt ex-soldiers from paying any taxes at all. She was concerned not only for their welfare, but of course for her own estate, insisting that people were “abandoning the township and the lands” and insisted that “the countryside will be absolutely ruined if you cannot do me this kindness.”

Louise incurred heavy expenses for the upkeep of her estate and land, and eventually she resigned herself to make the trip back to England in August 1698 to plead with William III to reinstate her pensions. She remained there for five months, attending court, and trying to negotiate a deal with the king. But despite her efforts, and the fact that her son had served successfully under William and been living in England for six years, Louise was given nothing more than a promise of £1,000.

Back in France she was hounded by creditors and had multiple lawsuits brought against her yet continued to spend frivolously and avoid her responsibilities. Her previous life of riches and privilege under Charles II had left her with such a sense of entitlement that she saw herself only as a victim of others’ cruelness to her. Despite her debts, she acted at court as she had always done -- as someone of importance and stature who deserved to be treated with the highest respect and admiration. If she felt shame, she did not show it.

Portsmouth eventually gained some modicum of financial stability, selling off much of her lands and, occasionally, receiving the patronage of her rich aristocratic lovers. But her saving grace came in 1721 after the death of Louis XIV, when she was granted a large annuity of £24,000. This was issued by the regent, the late king’s nephew, Phillipe II Duc d’Orleans, “in consideration of the great services she has rendered France and to give her the means of keeping up her rank and dignity.”

Once her finances were stable, Louise all but left the French court and spent most of her time in her duchy. Her son died in 1723, after years of alcohol abuse and debauchery, and her thoughts turned to her own soul. Over her final ten years she had a hospital built in Aubigny which was run by nuns who treated the sick and educated the young, had the local parish church re-furbished, and gave many donations to religious and charitable causes. The Duchess of Portsmouth died in 14th November 1734 at the impressive age of 85 years old and was buried in the Church of the Barefooted Carmelites in Aubigny.

Legacy

Many people believe that Portsmouth was Charles’ true love and that, despite his other mistresses, it was she who retained his full affection until he died. Towards the end of Charles’ life, a full-length portrait of Louise hung in his bedchamber, as a testament to his devotion to her. The king admired her beauty, sensitivity, and capability in the political world, and she had remained his closest companion through political strife, her own unpopularity with the public and many courtiers, and his other romantic conquests.

The dukedoms, titles, estates and lands that she had obtained for herself for life, to be passed on to her children and grandchildren, remain with her descendants today and span three countries: England, Scotland and France.

Along with Barbara, Portsmouth is the ancestress of Diana, Princess of Wales and in turn, the second in line to the British throne, Prince William.

 

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