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Memoirs of the Court of Louis XIV and the Regency
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.