Louis XIV's Sea-Monster Medallion

Louis XIV's Sea-Monster Medallion is a gold disk that joins a triumphal image of Louis XIV to an image of Sherzad drawn by Marie-Josèphe de la Croix. Lucien de Barenton, Count de Chrétien presents it to the King in an ornate box; Louis XIV then wears it around Yves de la Croix’s neck. The medal’s paired portraits make it more than an award: as it passes between the King, Yves, and the court, its royal display remains entangled with the sea people and with Yves’s guilt over his own words.

Design and paired portraits

The medal is presented inside a flat, square box of exotic wood, its surface inlaid with a radiating pattern of mother-of-pearl. On black velvet lies the gold disk. One face depicts Louis XIV in Roman armor, riding bareback on a charger, his hair flying in the wind. The image gives the King the mounted, martial bearing of a ruler in command.

The disk turns on its heavy chain, revealing an incised portrait of Sherzad leaping joyfully through the waves. This is not an anonymous image: it is Marie-Josèphe de la Croix’s drawing. The two faces thus place royal power beside a specific image of a sea person in motion and apparent delight. The medal does not erase the difference between its subjects; its turning surface makes both visible, while its precious material and formal presentation frame them within the King’s display.

Presentation and royal favor

Lucien de Barenton, Count de Chrétien hands the box to Louis XIV, who opens it before the assembled audience. After examining the medal, Louis XIV places it around Yves de la Croix’s neck. The audience murmurs its approval, and the King smiles at Yves, addressing him as Father de la Croix and inviting him to ride in his carriage. The medal therefore functions publicly as a mark of favor: it is given by the King, worn by Yves, and seen by the court at the moment his status is being affirmed.

That honor arrives under pressure. Lucien has heard Yves make a false claim and knows it is false, but, as the surrounding courtiers lack the knowledge to prove the deception, the falsehood remains unexposed. When the medal turns to reveal Sherzad’s portrait, Yves realizes what he has done. He stumbles and clutches the carriage; his thoughts connect his deceit with the possible death of the sea woman and with the prospect of disappointing the King. The medal is not itself a confession or proof, but its presentation occurs at the point when public praise and private remorse collide.

A visible token at court

The medal continues to draw attention after its presentation. In the royal box, a woman tells Yves how kind he is to keep the women company when the other men have deserted them and excluded them from their games. She leans close to inspect the medal, while Marie-Josèphe de la Croix is nearby. Yves cannot meet his sister’s eyes. The ornament attracts scrutiny, but the moment also makes his discomfort legible: he bears the King’s visible favor while feeling unable to face someone close to him.

At a later gathering, two women move closer to look at it, and the chain pulls at Yves’s neck. Their proximity and attention turn the medal into part of an intimate, socially charged encounter, not simply a distant emblem of rank. Its repeated appearance on Yves’s body makes the public token difficult to separate from the private strain attached to wearing it. The court sees an ornament worth examining; Yves experiences the weight of its chain and the pressure of being looked at.

Setting aside the medal

At the banquet, Yves has put aside the King’s medal. He joins Marie-Josèphe de la Croix in a severe black sketch, accompanied by guards. The narrative does not describe this as a formal renunciation, and the significance of the gesture should remain limited to what the scene establishes: the medal is no longer on him as he approaches his sister in this guarded setting. Earlier, he could not meet her eye while the medal attracted attention; now its absence marks a changed visual arrangement, without resolving the guilt that has shaped his earlier reactions.

The object’s significance rests on that tension between display and what display cannot settle. Louis XIV’s portrait presents sovereign splendor; Sherzad’s portrait preserves a joyful figure drawn by Marie-Josèphe de la Croix; and the medal’s chain makes both images turn into view. Its royal presentation elevates Yves before the court, but it does not make his deception true or relieve his fear of its consequences. As an ornament, it binds approval to scrutiny: the more visibly he wears the King’s favor, the harder it becomes to hide the burden he privately associates with it.