Following the fashion set by her Majesty, all the Court ladies wanted to have little blackamoors to follow them about, set off their white complexions, and hold up their cloaks or their trains.  Thus it came that Mignard, Le Bourdon, and other painters of the aristocracy, used to introduce negro boys into all their large portraits.  It was a mode, a mania; but so absurd a fashion soon had to disappear after the mishap of which I am about to tell.

The Queen being pregnant, public prayers were offered up for her according to custom, and her Majesty was forever saying:  “My pregnancy this time is different from preceding ones.  I am a prey to nausea and strange whims; I have never felt like this before.  If, for propriety’s sake, I did not restrain myself, I should now dearly like to be turning somersaults on the carpet, like little Osmin.  He eats green fruit and raw game; that is what I should like to do, too.  I should like to—­”

“Oh, madame, you frighten us!” exclaimed the King.  “Don’t let all those whimsies trouble you further, or you will give birth to some monstrosity, some freak of nature.”  His Majesty was a true prophet.  The Queen was delivered of a fine little girl, black as ink from head to foot.  They did not tell her this at once, fearing a catastrophe, but persuaded her to go to sleep, saying that the child had been taken away to be christened.

The physicians met in one room, the bishops and chaplains in another.  One prelate was opposed to baptising the infant; another only agreed to this upon certain conditions.  The majority decided that it should be baptised without the name of father or mother, and such suppression was unanimously advocated.

The little thing, despite its swarthy hue, was most beautifully made; its features bore none of those marks peculiar to people of colour.

It was sent away to the Gisors district to be suckled as a negro’s daughter, and the Gazette de France contained an announcement to the effect that the royal infant had died, after having been baptised by the chaplains.

[This daughter of the Queen lived, and was obliged to enter a Benedictine nunnery at Moret.  Her portrait is to be seen in the Sainte Genevieve Library of Henri IV.’s College, where it hangs in the winter saloon.—­Editor’s Note.]

The little African was sent away, as may well be imagined; and the Queen admitted that, one day soon after she was pregnant, he had hidden himself behind a piece of furniture and suddenly jumped out upon her to give her a fright.  In this he was but too successful.

The Court ladies no longer dared come near the Queen attended by their little blackamoors.  These, however, they kept for a while longer, as if they were mere nick-hacks or ornaments; in Paris they were still to be seen in public.  But the ladies’ husbands at last got wind of the tale, when all the little negroes disappeared.