The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, Complete

M >> Madame La Marquise De Montespan >> The Memoirs of Madame de Montespan, Complete



The King, by the last peace, signed at Nimegue, had engaged to restore
the Principality of Orange to William, Stadtholder and Generalissimo of
the Dutch. This article was one of those which he had found most
repugnant to him, for nothing can be compared with the profound aversion
which the mere name inspired in the monarch. He pushed this hatred so
far that, having one day noticed from the heights of his balcony a superb
new equipage, of which the body was painted with orange-coloured varnish,
he sent and asked the name of the owner; and, on their reporting to him
that this coach belonged to a provincial intendant, a relative
of the Chancellor, his Majesty said, the same evening, to the
magistrate-minister: "Your relative ought to show more discretion in the
choice of the colours he displays."

This coach appeared no more, and the silk and cloth mercers had their
stuffs redyed.

Another day, at the high table, the King, seeing four bowls of big
oranges brought in, said aloud before the public: "Take away that fruit,
which has nothing in its favour but its look. There is nothing more
dangerous or unhealthy."

On the morrow these words spread through the capital, and the courtiers
dared eat oranges only privately and in secret.

As for me, with my love for the scent of orange blossoms, the monarch's
petulance once more affected me extremely. I was obliged for some time
to give it up, like the others, and take to amber, the favourite scent of
my master, which my nerves could not endure.

Before surrendering the town of Orange to the commissioners of the
kinglet of the Dutch, the King of France had the walls thrown down, all
the fortifications razed, and the public buildings, certain convents, and
the library of the town stripped of their works of art. These measures
irritated Prince William, who, on that account alone, wished to
recommence the war; but the Emperor and the allies heard his complaints
with little attention. They even besought him to leave things as they
were. M. d'Orange is a real firebrand; he could not endure the
severities of the King without reprisals, and no sooner was he once more
in possession of his little isolated sovereignty than he annoyed the
Catholics in it, caused all possible alarms to the sisters of mercy and
nuns, imposed enormous taxes on the monks, and drove out the Jesuits with
unheard-of insults.

The King received hospitably all these humiliated or persecuted folk; and
as he was given to understand that the Orange Protestants were secretly
sowing discontent amongst his Calvinists and French Lutherans, he
prepared the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, the famous political
measure the abrogation of which took place a short time afterwards.

I saw, in the hands of the King, a document of sixty pages, printed at
Orange, after its restitution, in which it was clearly specified that
Hugh Capet had set himself on the throne irregularly, and in which the
author went to the point of saying that the Catholic religion was only an
idolatry, and that the peoples would only be happy and free after the
general introduction of the Reformation. The Marechal de Vivonne came
and told me, in strict confidence, that the Jesuits, out of resentment,
had forged this document, and printed the pamphlet themselves; but M. de
Louvois, who, through his father, the Chancellor, and his brother, the
Archbishop of Rheims, was associated with them, maintained that the
incendiary libel was really the work of the Protestants.

My residence at the Court having opened my eyes sufficiently to the
wickedness of men, I will not give my opinion, amid these angry charges
and recriminations. I confine myself to relating what I have seen.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

Sickness.--Death of the Queen.--Her Last Words.--The King's
Affliction.--His Saying.--Second Anonymous Letter.--Conversation with La
Dauphine.--Madame de Maintenon Intervenes.


While the Turks and the Imperialists were fighting in the plains of
Hungary, the King, followed by all his Court, had made his way towards
the frontiers of Alsace. He reviewed countless battalions, he made
promotions, and gave brilliant repasts and fetes.

The season was a little trying, and the Queen, though born in Spain, did
not accommodate herself to the June heat. As soon as business permitted
they took the road to the capital, and returned to Versailles with some
speed.

Scarcely had they arrived, when the Queen fell ill; it did not deserve
the name of sickness. It was only an indisposition, pure and simple,--an
abscess in the armpit; that was all. Fagon, the boldest and most
audacious of all who ever exercised the art of AEsculapius, decided that,
to lessen the running, it was necessary to draw the blood to another
quarter. In spite of the opinion of his colleagues, he ordered her to be
bled, and all her blood rushed to her heart. In a short time the
princess grew worse in an alarming fashion, and in a few moments we heard
that she was in her death-agony; in a few moments more we heard of her
death.

The King wept bitterly at first, as we had seen him weep for Marie de
Mancini, Louise de la Valliere, Henrietta of England, and the Duchesse de
Fontanges,--dead of his excesses. He set out at once for the Chateau of
Saint Cloud, which belonged to his brother; and Monsieur, wishing to
leave the field clear for him, went away to the Palais Royal with his
disagreeable wife and their numerous children.

His Majesty returned two days afterwards to the Chateau of Versailles,
where he, his son, and all the family sprinkled holy water over the
deceased; and this little ceremony being finished, they regained in
silence the Chateau of Saint Cloud.

The aspect of that gloomy Salon of Peace, converted into a catafalque;
the sight of that small bier, on which a beautiful, good, and indulgent
wife was reposing; those silent images, so full of speech, awoke the just
remorse of the King. His tears began once more to flow abundantly, and
he was heard to say these words:

"Dear, kind friend, this is the first grief you have caused me in twenty
years!"

The Infanta, as I have already related, had granted in these latter days
her entire confidence and affection to her daughter-in-law's lady in
waiting. Finding herself sick and in danger, she summoned Madame de
Maintenon; and understanding soon that those famous Court physicians did
not know how ill she was, and that she was drawing near her last hour,
she begged this woman, so ready in all things, to leave her no more, and
to be good enough to prepare her for death.

The Marquise wept bitterly, and perhaps even sincerely; for being unable
to foresee, at that period, all that was to befall her in the issue, she
probably entertained the hope of attaching herself for good to this
excellent princess. In losing her, she foresaw, or feared, if not
adversity, at least a decline.

The King was courting her, it is true, and favouring her already with
marked respect; but Francoise d'Aubigne,--thoughtful and meditative as I
knew her to be, could certainly not have failed to appreciate the
voluptuous and inconstant character of the monarch. She had seen several
notorious friendships collapse in succession; and it is not at the age of
forty-six or forty-seven that one can build castles in Spain to dwell in
with young love.

The Queen, before the beginning of her death agony, herself drew a
splendid ring from her finger, and would pass it over the finger of the
Marquise, to whom, some months before, she had already given her
portrait. It was asserted that her last words were these: "Adieu, my
dearest Marquise; to you I recommend and confide the King."

In accordance with a recommendation so binding and so precise, Madame de
Maintenon followed the monarch to Saint Cloud; and as great afflictions
are fain to be understood and shared, these two desolate hearts shut
themselves up in one room, in order to groan in concert.

The Queen having been taken to Saint Denis, the King, Madame de
Maintenon, and the Court returned to Versailles, where the royal family
went into mourning for the period prescribed by law and custom.

The Queen's large and small apartments, so handsome, new, splendid, and
magnificent, became the habitation of Madame la Dauphine; so that the
lady in waiting, in virtue of her office, returned in the most natural
manner to those apartments where she had held authority.

The Queen, without having the genius of conversation and discussion,
lacked neither aplomb nor a taste for the proprieties; she knew how to
support, or, at least, to preside over a circle. The young Dauphine had
neither the desire, nor the patience, nor, the tact.

The prince charged the lady in waiting to do these things for her. We
repaired in full dress to the Princess,--to present our homages to Madame
de Maintenon. One must admit she threw her heart into it; that is to
say, she drew out, as far as possible, the monarch's daughter-in-law,
inspiring into her every moment amiable questions or answers, which she
had taken pains to embellish and adorn in her best manner.

The King arrived; I then had the pleasure of seeing him, not two paces
from me, before my very eyes, saying witty and agreeable things to the
Marquise; while he talked to me only of the rain and the weather, always
cursorily.

It was then that I received a second anonymous letter, in the same
handwriting, the same style, the same tone as that of which mention has
been made. I transcribe it; it is curious.

TO MADAME LA MARQUISE DE MONTESPAN.

MADAME:--You have not followed my former advice. The opportunity has
gone by; it is too late. Your superintendence is left with you, and
there are four or five hundred thousand livres lying idle; for you will
not be able to sell the superintendence of a household, and of a council,
which are in a tomb at Saint Denis! Happily you are rich, and what would
be a disaster to another fortune is scarcely more than a slight
disappointment to you. I take the respectful liberty of talking once
more with the prettiest and wittiest woman of her century, in order to
submit to her certain ideas, and to offer her a fresh piece of advice,
which I believe important.

The Queen, moved by a generosity seldom found in her peers, pardoned you
to some degree your theft of her spouse; she pardoned you in order to be
agreeable to him, and to prove to him that, being his most sincere
friend, she could not bring herself to contest his affections and his
pastimes. But this sublime philosophy is at an end; the excellent heart
of this Queen is at Val-de-Grace; it will beat no more, neither for her
volatile husband, nor for any one whatsoever.

Madame la Dauphine, brought up in German severity, and hardly accustomed
to the atmosphere of her new country, neither likes nor respects you, nor
has any indulgence for you. She barely suffers the presence of your
children, although brothers of her husband. How should she tolerate
yours? It appears, it is plain, Madame la Marquise, that your name has
found no place or footing on her list, and that she would rather not meet
you often in her salons. If one may even speak to you confidentially,
she has thus expressed herself; it would be cruel for you to hear of it
from any other being but me.

Believe me, believe a man as noted for his good qualities as for his
weaknesses. He will never drive you away, for you are the mother of his
beloved children, and he has loved you himself tenderly. However, his
coldness is going to increase. Will you be sufficiently light-hearted,
or sufficiently imprudent, to await on a counterscarp the rigours of
December and January?

Keep your wit always, Madame la Marquise, and with this wit, which is
such a charming resource, do not divest yourself of your noble pride.

I am, always, your respectful and devoted servant,

THE UNKNOWN OF THE CHATEAU.

At the time of the first letter, when I had hesitated some time, doubtful
between Madame de Maintenon and the King, it occurred to me to suspect
the Queen for a moment; but there was no possibility now of imputing to
this princess, dead and gone, the unbecoming annoyance that an unknown
permitted himself to cause me.

On this occasion I chose my part resolutely; and, not wishing to busy
myself any longer with these pretended friendly counsels which my pride
forbade me to follow, I took these two insolent letters and burned them.
This last letter, after all, spoke very truly. I remarked distinctly, in
the looks and manner of the Dauphine, that ridiculous and clumsy
animosity which she had taken a fancy to lavish on me.

As she was not, in my eyes, so sublime a personage that a lady of quality
might not enter into conversation with her, I approached her armchair
with the intention of upsetting her haughtiness and pride by compelling
her to speak to me before everybody.

I complimented her on her coiffure, and even thanked her for the honour
she did me in imitating me; she reddened, and I entreated her not to put
herself about, assuring her that her face looked much better in its
habitual pallor. These words redoubled her dissatisfaction, and her
redness then became a veritable scarlet flame.

Passing forthwith to another subject, I pronounced in a few words a
panegyric on the late Queen; to which I skilfully added that, from the
first day, she had been able to understand the French graces and assume
them with intelligence and taste.

"Her Spanish accent troubled her for a year or two longer," added I;
"strictly speaking, this accent, derived from the Italian, has nothing
disagreeable in it; while the English, Polish, Russian, and German accent
is inharmonious in itself, and is lost with great difficulty here."

Seeing that my reflections irritated her, I stopped short, and made my
excuses by saying to her, "Madame, these are only general reflections.
Your Highness is an exception, and has struck us all, as you have nothing
German left but memories, and, perhaps, regrets."

She answered me, stammering, that she had not been destined in the first
place for the throne of France, and that this want of forethought had
injured her education; then, feeling a spark of courage in her heart, she
said that the late Queen had more than once confided to her that the
Court of France was disorderly in its fashions, because it was never the
princesses who gave it its tone as elsewhere.

Madame de Maintenon perceived quickly the consequences of this saying;
for the peace of the Princess, she retorted quickly: "In France, the
princesses are so kind and obliging as to follow the fashions; but the
good examples and good tone come to us from our princes, and our only
merit is to imitate them with ingenuity."




CHAPTER XXIX.

Judgment Given by the Chatelet.--The Marquis d'Antin Restored to His
Father.--The Judgment is Not Executed.--Full Mourning.--Funeral
Service.--The Notary of Saint Elig.--The Lettre de Cachet.


The Marquis d'Antin, my son, with the consent of the King, had remained
under my control, and had never consented to quit me to rejoin his
father. M. de Montespan, at the time of the suit for judicial separation
before the Chatelet, had caused his advocate to maintain this barbarous
argument, that a son, though brought into the world by his mother, ought
to side against her if domestic storms arise, and prefer to everybody and
everything the man whose arms and name he bears.

The tribunal of the Chatelet, trampling upon maternal tenderness and
humanity, granted his claim in full; and I was advised not to appeal, now
that I had obtained the thing essential to me, a separation in body and
estate.

M. de Montespan dared not come himself to Paris in order to execute the
sentence; he sent for that purpose two officers of artillery, his friends
or relatives, who were authorised to see the young Marquis at his
college, but not to withdraw him before the close of his humanities and
classes. These gentlemen, having sent word to the father that the young
D'Antin was my living image, he replied to them, that they were to insist
no longer, to abandon their mission, and to abandon a child who would
never enjoy his favour since he resembled myself. Owing to this happy
circumstance I was able to preserve my son.

Since these unhappy disputes, and the suit which made so much noise, I
had heard no more talk of M. de Montespan in society. I only learned
from travellers that he was building, a short distance from the Pyrenees,
a chateau of a noble and royal appearance, where he had gathered together
all that art, joined with good taste, could add to nature; that this
chateau of Saint Elix, adorned with the finest orange grove in the world,
was ascribed to the liberality of the King. The Marquis, hurt by this
mistake of his neighbours, which he called an accusation, published a
solemn justification in these ingenuous provinces, and he proved, as a
clerk might do to his master, that this enormous expenditure was
exclusively his own.

Suddenly the report of his death spread through the capital, and the
Marquis d'Antin received without delay an official letter with a great,
black seal, which announced to him this most lamentable event. The
notary of Saint Elix, in sending him this sad news, took the opportunity
of enclosing a certified copy of the will.

This testament, replete with malignity, having been freely published in
the capital, I cannot refrain from reproducing it in these writings.

Here are its principal clauses;

In the name of the most blessed Trinity, etc.

Since I cannot congratulate myself on a wife, who, diverting herself as
much as possible, has caused me to pass my youth and my life in celibacy,
I content myself with leaving, her my life-sized portrait, by Bourdon,
begging her to place it in her bedchamber, when the King ceases to come
there.

Although the Marquis de Pardailhan d'Antin is prodigiously like his
mother (a circumstance of which I have been lamentably sensible!), I do
not hesitate to believe him my son. In this quality I give and bequeath
to him all my goods, as my eldest son, imposing on him, nevertheless, the
following legacies, liberalities and charges:

I leave to their Highnesses, M. le Duc du Maine, M. le Comte de Toulouse,
Mademoiselle de Nantes, and Mademoiselle de Blois (born during my
marriage with their mother, and consequently my presumptive children),
their right of legitimacy on the charge and condition of their bearing in
one of their quarterings the Pardailhan-Montespan arms.

I take the respectful liberty of here thanking my King for the extreme
kindness which he has shown to my wife, nee De Mortemart, to my son
D'Antin, to his brothers and sisters, both dead and living, and also to
myself, who have only been dismissed, and kept in exile:

In recognition of which I give and bequeath to his Majesty my vast
chateau of Montespan, begging him to create and institute there a
community of Repentant Ladies, to wear the habit of Carmelites or of the
Daughters of the Conception, on the special charge and condition that he
place my wife at the head of the said convent, and appoint her to be
first Abbess.

I attach an annuity of sixty thousand livres to this noble institution,
hoping that this will make up the deficiency, if there be any.

DE PARDAILHAN DE GONDRAN MONTESPAN, Separated, although inseparable
spouse.

A family council being held to decide what I must do on this occasion,
Madame de Thianges, M. de Vivonne, and M. de Blanville-Colbert decided
that I must wear the same full mourning as my son D'Antin. As for this
odious will, it was agreed that it should not even be spoken of, and that
the notary of Saint Elix should be written to at once, to place it in the
hands of a third party, of whom he would be presently notified at the
place. The Marquis d'Antin at once had my equipage and his own draped.
We hastened to put all our household into mourning from top to toe, and
the funeral service, with full ritual, was ordered to be performed at the
parish church. The very same day, as the family procession was about to
set out on its way to the church, a sort of sergeant, dressed in black,
handed a fresh letter to the Marquis d'Antin. It contained these words:

The notary of Saint Elix deserves a canonry in the Chapter of Charenton;
it is not the Marquis de Montespan who is dead; they have played a trick
on you.

The only truth in all of it is the will, of which the notary of Saint
Elix has been in too great a hurry to send a copy. A thousand excuses to
M. le Marquis d'Antin and his mother, Madame la Marquise.

It was necessary to send orders at once to the parish church to take away
the catafalque and the drapings. The priests and the musicians were paid
as if they had done what they ought to do; and my widowhood, which, at
another time, might have been of such importance, was, I dare to say,
indifferent to me.

The King was informed of what had just taken place in my family. He
spoke of it as an extremely disagreeable affair. I answered him that it
was far more disagreeable for me than for any one else. His Majesty
added:

"Tell the Marquis d'Antin to go to Saint Elix and pay his respects to his
father. This journey will also enable him to learn if such a ridiculous
will really exists, and if your husband has reached such a pitch of
independence. D'Antin will beg him, on my behalf, to tear up that
document, and to earn my favour by doing so."

My son, after consulting with his Majesty, started indeed for the
Pyrenees. His father at first gave him a cold welcome. The next day the
Marquis discovered the secret of pleasing him; and M. de Montespan, at
this full mourning, this family council, and at the catafalque in the
middle of the church, promised to alter the will on condition that his
'lettre do cachet' should be revoked and quashed within the next
fortnight.

The King agreed to these demands, which did not any longer affect him. I
was the only person sacrificed.




CHAPTER XXX.

The Duc du Maine Provided with the Government of Languedoc.--The Young
Prince de Conti.--His Piety.--His Apostasy.--The Duc de la Feuillade
Burlesqued.--The Watch Set with Diamonds.--The False Robber.--Scene
amongst the Servants.


The old Duc de Verneuil, natural son of King Henri IV., died during these
incidents, leaving the government of Languedoc vacant. The King summoned
M. le Duc du Maine at once, and, embracing him with his usual tenderness,
he said to him: "My son, though you are very young, I make you governor
of Languedoc. This will make many jealous of you; do not worry about
them, I am always here to defend you. Go at once to Mademoiselle's, who
has just arrived at Versailles, and tell her what I have done for her
adopted child."

I went to thank his Majesty for this favour, which seemed to me very
great, since my son was not twelve years old. The King said to me: "Here
comes the carriage of the Prince de Conti; you may be certain that he
comes to ask me for this place."

In fact, those were the first words of the Prince de Conti.

"The government for which you ask," said the King, "has been for a long
time promised to Madame de Maintenon for her Duc du Maine. I intend
something else for you, my dear cousin. Trust in me. In giving you my
beloved daughter I charged myself with your fortunes; you are on my list,
and in the first rank."

The young Prince changed colour. He entreated the King to believe him
worthy of his confidence and esteem, to which he imprudently added these
words: "My wife was born before M. du Maine."

"And you, too," replied his Majesty; "are you any the more sober for
that? There are some little youthful extravagances in your conduct which
pain me. I leave my daughter in ignorance of them, because I wish her to
be at peace. Endeavour to prevent her being informed of them by
yourself. Govern yourself as a young man of your birth ought to govern
himself; then I will hand a government over to you with pleasure."

The Prince de Conti appeared to me very much affected by this homily and
disappointment. He saluted me, however, with a smile of benevolence and
the greatest amenity. We learnt a short time afterwards that his wife
had shed many tears, and was somewhat set against my children and myself.

This amiable Princess then was not aware that the government of Languedoc
was not granted at my instance, but at the simple desire of Madame de
Maintenon; the King had sufficiently explained it.

Just at this moment M. le Prince de Conti had made himself notable by his
attachment or his deference towards matters of religion and piety. His
superb chariot and his peach-coloured liveries were to be seen, on
fete-days, at the doors of the great churches. He suddenly changed his
manoeuvres, and refused to subject himself to restraints which led him no
whither. He scoffed publicly at the Jesuits, the Sulpicians, and their
formal lectures and confraternities; he refused to distribute the blessed
bread at his parish church, and heard mass only from his chaplains and in
his palace.