Louis XIV. spoiled the Jesuits; he thought whatever came from them must
be admirable, whether it was right or wrong.
The King did not like living in town; he was convinced that the people
did not love him, and that there was no security for him among them.
Maintenon had him, besides, more under her sway at Versailles than at
Paris, where there was certainly no security for her. She was
universally detested there; and whenever she went out in a carriage the
populace shouted loud threats against her, so that at last she dared not
appear in public.
At first the King was in the habit of dining with Madame de Montespan and
his children, and then no person went to visit him but the Dauphin and
Monsieur. When Montespan was dismissed, the King had all his
illegitimate children in his cabinet: this continued until the arrival of
the last Dauphine; she intruded herself among the bastards to their great
affliction. When the Duchess--
[Louise-Francoise, commonly called Mademoiselle de Nantes, the
legitimated daughter of Madame de Montespan and the King, was
married to the Duc de Bourbon in 1685.]
became the favourite of the Dauphin, she begged that no other persons of
the royal house might have access to the cabinet; and therefore my
request for admission, although not refused, was never granted until
after the death of the Dauphin and Dauphine. The latter accompanied the
King to places where I did not, and could not go, for she even, went with
him upon occasions when decency ought to have forbidden her presence.
Maintenon did the same thing, for the purpose of having an opportunity of
talking to the King in secret.
Louis XIV. loved the young Dauphine so well that he dared refuse her
nothing; and Maintenon had so violent a hatred against me that she was
ready to do me all the mischief in her power. What could the King do
against the inclinations of his son and his granddaughter? They would
have looked cross, and that would have grieved him. I had no inclination
to cause him any vexation, and therefore preferred exercising my own
patience. When I had anything to say to the King, I requested a private
audience, which threw them all into despair, and furnished me with a good
laugh in my sleeve.
The King was so much devoted to the old usages of the Royal Palace that
he would not for the world have departed from them. Madame de Fiennes
was in the habit of saying that the Royal Family adhered so strictly to
their habits and customs that the Queen of England died with a toguet on
her head; that is, a little cap which is put upon children when they go
to bed.
When the King denied anything it was not permitted to argue with him;
what he commanded must be done quickly and without reply. He was too
much accustomed to "such is our good pleasure," to endure any
contradiction.
He was always kind and generous when he acted from his own impulses.
He never thought that his last will would be observed; and he said to
several people, "They have made me sign a will and some other papers;
I have done it for the sake of being quiet, but I know very well that it
will not stand good."
The good King was old; he stood in need of repose, and he could not enjoy
it by any other means than by doing whatever that old Maintenon wished;
thus it was that this artful hussy always accomplished her ends.
The King used always to call the Duc de Verneuil his uncle.
It has been said and believed that Louis XIV. retired from the war
against Holland through pure generosity; but I know, as well as I know my
own name that he came back solely for the purpose of seeing Madame de
Montespan, and to stay with her. I know also many examples of great
events, which in history have been attributed to policy or ambition, but
which have originated from the most insignificant trifles. It has been
said it was our King's ambition that made him resolve to become the
master of the world, and that it was for this he commenced the Dutch war;
but I know from an indisputable source that it was entered upon only
because M. de Lionne, then Minister of State, was jealous of Prince
William of Furstenberg, who had an intrigue with his wife, of which he
had been apprised. It was this that caused him to engage in those
quarrels which afterwards produced the war.
It was not surprising that the King was insensible to the scarcity which
prevailed, for in the first place he had seen nothing of it, and, in the
second, he had been told that all the reports which had reached him were
falsehoods, and that they were in no respect true. Old Maintenon
invented this plan for getting money, for she had bought up all the corn,
for the purpose of retailing it at a high price. [This does not sound
like M. Maintenon. D.W.] Everybody had been requested to say nothing
about it to the King, lest it should kill him with vexation.
The King loved my son as well as his own, but he cared little for the
girls. He was very fond of Monsieur, and he had reason to be so; never
did a child pay a more implicit obedience to its parents than did
Monsieur to the King; it was a real veneration; and the Dauphin, too, had
for him a veneration, affection and submission such as never son had for
a father. The King was inconsolable for his death. He never had much
regard for the Duke of Burgundy; the old sorceress (Maintenon) had
slandered him to the King, and made the latter believe that he was of an
ambitious temper, and was impatient at the King's living so long. She
did this in order that if the Prince should one day open his eyes, and
perceive the manner in which his wife had been educated, his complaints
might have no effect with the King, which really took place. Louis XIV.
at last thought everything that the Dauphine of Burgundy did was quite
charming; old Maintenon made him believe that her only aim was to divert
him. This old woman was to him both the law and the prophets; all that
she approved was good, and what she condemned was bad, no matter how
estimable it really was. The most innocent actions of the first Dauphine
were represented as crimes, and all the impertinences of the second were
admired.
A person who had been for many years in immediate attendance upon the
King, who had been engaged with him every evening at Maintenon's, and
who must consequently have heard everything that was said, is one of my
very good friends, and he has told me that although while the old lady
was living he dare not say a word, yet, she being dead, he was at liberty
to tell me that the King had always professed a real friendship for me.
This person has often heard with his own ears Maintenon teasing the King,
and speaking ill of me for the purpose of rendering me hateful in his
eyes, but the King always took my part. It was in reference to this,
I have no doubt, that the King said to me on his death-bed:
"They have done all they could to make me hate you, Madame, but they have
not succeeded." He added that he had always known me too well to believe
their calumnies. While he spoke thus, the old woman stood by with so
guilty an air that I could not doubt they had proceeded from her.
Monsieur often took a pleasure in diminishing or depriving me of the
King's favour, and the King was not sorry for some little occasions to
blame Monsieur. He told me once that he had embroiled me with Monsieur
by policy.
I was alarmed, and said immediately, "Perhaps your Majesty may do the
same thing again."
The King laughed, and said, "No, if I had intended to do so I should not
have told you of it; and, to say the truth, I had some scruples about it,
and have resolved never to do so again."
Upon the death of one of his children, the King asked of his old medical
attendant, M. Gueneau: "Pray, how does it happen that my illegitimate
children are healthy and live, while all the Queen's children are so
delicate and always die?" "Sire," replied Gueneau, "it is because the
Queen has only the rinsings of the glass."
He always slept in the Queen's bed, but did not always accommodate
himself to the Spanish temperament of that Princess; so that the Queen
knew he had been elsewhere. The King, nevertheless, had always great
consideration for her, and made his mistresses treat her with all
becoming respect. He loved her for her virtue, and for the sincere
affection she bore to him, notwithstanding his infidelity. He was much
affected at her death; but four days afterwards, by the chattering of old
Maintenon, he was consoled. A few days afterwards we went to
Fontainebleau, and expected to find the King in an ill-humour, and that
we should be scolded; but, on the contrary, he was very gay.
When the King returned from a journey we were all obliged to be at the
carriage as he got out, for the purpose of accompanying him to his
apartments.
While Louis XIV. was young all the women were running after him; but he
renounced this sort of life when he flattered himself that he had grown
devout. His motive was, Madame de Maintenon watched him so narrowly that
he could not, dare not, look at any one. She disgusted him with
everybody else that she might have him to herself; and this, too, under
the pretext of taking care of his soul.
Madame de Colonne had a great share of wit, and our King was so much in
love with her, that, if her uncle, the Cardinal, had consented, he would
certainly have married her. Cardinal Mazarin, although in every other
respect a worthless person, deserved to be praised for having opposed
this marriage. He sent his niece into Italy. When she was setting out,
the King wept violently. Madame de Colonne said to him, "You are a King;
you weep, and yet I go." This was saying a great deal in a few words.
As to the Comtesse de Soissons, the King had always more of friendship
than of love for her. He made her very considerable presents, the least
of which was to the amount of 2,000 louis.
Madame de Ludres, the King's mistress, was an agreeable person;
she had been Maid of Honour to Monsieur's first wife,--[Henrietta of
England.]--and after her death she entered the Queen's service, but when
these places were afterwards abolished, Monsieur took back Ludres and
Dampierre, the two Ladies of Honour he had given to the Queen. The
former was called Madame, because she was canoness of a chapter at
Lorraine.
It is said that the King never observed her beauty while she was with the
Queen, and that it was not until she was with me that he fell in love
with her. Her reign lasted only two years. Montespan told the King that
Ludres had certain ringworms upon her body, caused by a poison that had
been given her in her youth by Madame de Cantecroix. At twelve or
thirteen years of age, she had inspired the old Duc de Lorraine with so
violent a passion that he resolved to marry her at all events. The
poison caused eruptions, covered her with ringworms from head to foot,
and prevented the marriage. She was cured so well as to preserve the
beauty of her figure, but she was always subject to occasional eruptions.
Although now (1718) more than seventy years old, she is still beautiful;
she has as fine features as can be seen, but a very disagreeable manner
of speaking; she lisps horribly. She is, however, a good sort of person.
Since she has been converted she thinks of nothing but the education of
her nieces, and limits her own expenses that she may give the more to her
brother's children. She is in a convent at Nancy, which she is at
liberty to quit when she pleases. She, as well as her nieces, enjoy
pensions from the King.
I have seen Beauvais, that femme de chambre of the Queen-mother, a
one-eyed creature, who is said to have first taught the King the art of
intriguing. She was perfectly acquainted with all its mysteries, and had
led a very profligate life; she lived several years after my arrival in
France.
Louis XIV. carried his gallantries to debauchery. Provided they were
women, all were alike to him peasants, gardeners' girls, femmes de
chambre, or ladies of quality. All that they had to do was to seem to be
in love with him.
For a long time before his death, however, he had ceased to run after
women; he even exiled the Duchesse de la Ferte, because she pretended to
be dying for him. When she could not see him, she had his portrait in
her carriage to contemplate it. The King said that it made him
ridiculous, and desired her to retire to her own estate. The Duchesse de
Roquelaure, of the house of Laval, was also suspected of wishing to
captivate the King; but his Majesty was not so severe with her as with La
Ferte. There was great talk in the scandalous circles about this
intrigue; but I did not thrust my nose into the affair.
I am convinced that the Duchesse de la Valliere always loved the King
very much. Montespan loved him for ambition, La Soubise for interest,
and Maintenon for both. La Fontange loved him also, but only like the
heroine of a romance; she was a furiously romantic person. Ludres was
also very much attached to him, but the King soon got tired of her. As
for Madame de Monaco, I would not take an oath that she never intrigued
with the King. While the King was fond of her, Lauzun, who had a regular
though a secret arrangement with his cousin, fell into disgrace for the
first time. He had forbidden his fair one to see the King; but finding
her one day sitting on the ground, and talking with His Majesty, Lauzun,
who, in his place as Captain of the guard, was in the chamber, was so
transported with jealousy that he could not restrain himself, and,
pretending to pass, he trod so violently on the hand which Madame de
Monaco had placed upon the ground, that he nearly crushed it. The King,
who thus guessed at their intrigue, reprimanded him. Lauzun replied
insolently, and was sent for the first time to the Bastille.
Madame de Soubise was cunning, full of dissimulation, and very wicked.
She deceived the good Queen cruelly; but the latter rewarded her for this
in exposing her falsehood and in unmasking her to the world. As soon as
the King had undeceived Her Majesty with respect to this woman, her
history became notorious, and the Queen amused herself in relating her
triumph, as she called it, to everybody.
The King and Monsieur had been accustomed from their childhood to great
filthiness in the interior of their houses; so much so, that they did not
know it ought to be otherwise, and yet, in their persons, they, were
particularly neat.
Madame de la Motte, who had been at Chaillot, preferred the old Marquis
de Richelieu to the King. She declared to His Majesty that her heart was
no longer disposable, but that it was at length fixed.
I can never think, without anger, of the evil which has been spoken of
the late King, and how little His Majesty has been regretted by those to
whom he had done so much good.
I hardly dare repeat what the King said to me on his death-bed. All
those who were usually in his cabinet were present, with the exception of
the Princess, his daughter, the Princesse de Conti, and Madame de
Vendome, who, alone, did not see the King. The whole of the Royal Family
was assembled. He recommended his legitimated daughters to live together
in concord, and I was the innocent cause of his saying something
disagreeable to them. When the King said, "I recommend you all to be
united," I thought he alluded to me and my son's daughter; and I said,
"Yes, Monsieur, you shall be obeyed." He turned towards me, and said in
a stern voice, "Madame, you thought I spoke of you. No, no; you are a
sensible person, and I know you; it is to the Princesses, who are not so,
that I speak:"
Louis XIV. proved at his death that he was really a great man, for it
would be impossible to die with more courage than he displayed. For
eight days he had incessantly the approach of death before his eyes
without betraying fear or apprehension; he arranged everything as if he
had only been going to make a journey.
Eight or ten days before his death a disease had appeared in his leg; a
gangrene ensued, and it was this which caused his death. But for three
months preceding he had been afflicted with a slow fever, which had
reduced him so much that he looked like a lath. That old rogue, Fagon,
had brought him to this condition, by administering purgatives and
sudorifics of the most violent kind. At the instigation of
Pere Letellier, he had been tormented to death by the cursed
constitution,--[The affair of the Bull Unigenitus]--and had not been
allowed to rest day or night. Fagon was a wicked old scoundrel, much
more attached to Maintenon than to the King. When I perceived how much
it was sought to exault the Duc du Maine, and that the old woman cared
so little for the King's death, I could not help entertaining
unfavourable notions of this old rascal.
It cannot be denied that Louis XIV. was the finest man in his kingdom.
No person had a better appearance than he. His figure was agreeable, his
legs well made, his feet small, his voice pleasant; he was lusty in
proportion; and, in short, no fault could be found with his person.
Some folks thought he was too corpulent for his height, and that Monsieur
was too stout; so that it was said, by way of a joke at Court, that there
had been a mistake, and that one brother had received what had been
intended for the other. The King was in the habit of keeping his mouth
open in an awkward way.
An English gentleman, Mr. Hammer, found him an expert fencer.
He preserved his good looks up to his death, although some of my ladies,
who saw him afterwards, told me that he could scarcely be recognized.
Before his death, his stature had been diminished by a head, and he
perceived this himself.
His pronunciation was very distinct, but all his children, from the
Dauphin to the Comte de Toulouse, lisped. They used to say, Pahi,
instead of Paris.
In general, the King would have no persons at his table but members of
the Royal Family. As for the Princesses of the blood, there were so many
of them that the ordinary table would not have held them; and, indeed,
when we were all there, it was quite full.
The King used to sit in the middle, and had the Dauphin and the Duke of
Burgundy at his right, and the Dauphine and the Duchesse de Berri on his
left; on one of the sides Monsieur and I sat; and on the other, my son
and his wife; the other parts of the table were reserved for the noblemen
in waiting, who did not take their places behind the King, but opposite
to him. When the Princesses of the blood or any other ladies were
received at the King's table, we were waited on, not by noblemen, but by
other officers of the King's household, who stood behind like pages.
The King upon such occasions was waited on by his chief Maitre d'Hotel.
The pages never waited at the King's table, but on journeys; and then
upon no person but the King. The Royal Family had persons to attend them
who were not noble. Formerly all the King's officers, such as the
butler, the cupbearer, etc., etc., were persons of rank; but afterwards,
the nobility becoming poor could not afford to buy the high offices; and
they fell, of necessity, into the hands of more wealthy citizens who
could pay for them.
The King, the late Monsieur, the Dauphin, and the Duc de Berri were great
eaters. I have often seen the King eat four platefuls of different
soups, a whole pheasant, a partridge, a plateful of salad, mutton hashed
with garlic, two good-sized slices of ham, a dish of pastry, and
afterwards fruit and sweetmeats. The King and Monsieur were very fond of
hard eggs.
Louis XIV. understood perfectly the art of satisfying people even while
he reproved their requests. His manners were most affable, and he spoke
with so much politeness as to win all hearts.
Prev
Next
All
Your email address is safe with us. View our Privacy policy.
![]() |
![]() |
|
|
The Complete Plays of Gilbert and Sullivan Sections: 50 What's this? Table of Contents |
Fiction Short Stories Poetry Plays Sci Fi Philosophy Religion Biography |