MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT AND OF THE REGENCY

 BY THE DUKE OF SAINT-SIMON

VOLUME 15. 

CHAPTER CXIII

Few events of importance had taken place during my absence in Spain. Shortly after my return, however, a circumstance occurred which mayfairly claim description from me. Let me, therefore, at once relate it. 

Cardinal Dubois, every day more and more firmly established in the favourof M. Le Duc d'Orleans, pined for nothing less than to be declared primeminister. He was already virtually in that position, but was notpublicly or officially recognised as being so. He wished, therefore, tobe declared. 

One great obstacle in his path was the Marechal de Villeroy, with whom hewas on very bad terms, and whom he was afraid of transforming into anopen and declared enemy, owing to the influence the Marechal exerted overothers. Tormented with agitating thoughts, every day that delayed hisnomination seemed to him a year. Dubois became doubly ill-tempered andcapricious, more and more inaccessible, and accordingly the most pressingand most important business was utterly neglected. At last he resolvedto make a last effort at reconciliation with the Marechal, butmistrusting his own powers, decided upon asking Cardinal Bissy to be themediator between them. 

Bissy with great willingness undertook the peaceful commission; spoke toVilleroy, who appeared quite ready to make friends with Dubois, and evenconsented to go and see him. As chance would have it, he went, accompanied by Bissy, on Tuesday morning. I at the same time went, aswas my custom, to Versailles to speak to M. Le Duc d'Orleans upon somesubject, I forget now what. 

It was the day on which the foreign ministers had their audience ofCardinal Dubois, and when Bissy and Villeroy arrived, they found theseministers waiting in the chamber adjoining the Cardinal's cabinet. 

The established usage is that they have their audience according to theorder in which they arrive, so as to avoid all disputes among them as torank and precedence. Thus Bissy and Villeroy found Dubois closeted withthe Russian minister. It was proposed to inform the Cardinal at once, ofa this, so rare as a visit from the Marechal de Villeroy; but theMarechal would not permit it, and sat down upon a sofa with Bissy to waitlike the rest. 

The audience being over, Dubois came from his cabinet, conducting theRussian minister, and immediately saw his sofa so well ornamented. Hesaw nothing but that in fact; on the instant he ran there, paid athousand compliments to the Marechal for anticipating him, when he wasonly waiting for permission to call upon him, and begged him and Bissy tostep into the cabinet. While they were going there, Dubois made hisexcuses to the ambassadors for attending to Villeroy before them, sayingthat his functions and his assiduity as governor of the King did notpermit him to be long absent from the presence of his Majesty; and withthis compliment he quitted them and returned into his cabinet. 

At first nothing passed but reciprocal compliments and observations fromCardinal Bissy, appropriate to the subject. Then followed protestationsfrom Dubois and replies from the Marechal. Thus far, the sea was verysmooth. But absorbed in his song, the Marechal began to forget its tune;then to plume himself upon his frankness and upon his plain speaking;then by degrees, growing hot in his honours, he gave utterance to diversnaked truths, closely akin to insults. 

Dubois, much astonished, pretended not to feel the force of theseobservations, but as they increased every moment, Bissy tried to callback the Marechal, explain things to him, and give a more pleasant toneto the conversation. But the mental tide had begun to rise, and now itwas entirely carrying away the brains of Villeroy. From bad to worse waseasy. The Marechal began now to utter unmistakable insults and the mostbitter reproaches. In vain Bissy tried to silence him; representing tohim how far he was wandering from the subject they came to talk upon; howindecent it was to insult a man in his own house, especially, afterarriving on purpose to conclude a reconciliation with him. All Bissycould say simply had the effect of exasperating the Marechal, and ofmaking him vomit forth the most extravagant insults that insolence anddisdain could suggest. 

Dubois, stupefied and beside himself, was deprived of his tongue, couldnot utter a word; while Bissy, justly inflamed with anger, uselesslytried to interrupt his friend. In the midst of the sudden fire which hadseized the Marechal, he had placed himself in such a manner that hebarred the passage to the door, and he continued his invectives withoutrestraint. Tired of insults, he passed to menaces and derision, sayingto Dubois that since he had now thrown off all disguise, they no longerwere on terms to pardon each other, and then he assured Dubois that, sooner or later, he would do him all the injury possible, and gave himwhat he called good counsel. 

"You are all powerful, " said he; "everybody bends before you; nobodyresists you; what are the greatest people in the land compared with you?Believe me, you have only one thing to do; employ all your power, putyourself at ease, and arrest me, if you dare. Who can hinder you?Arrest me, I say, you have only that course open. "

Thereupon, he redoubled his challenges and his insults, like a man who isthoroughly persuaded that between arresting him and scaling Heaven thereis no difference. As may well be imagined, such astounding remarks werenot uttered without interruption, and warm altercations from the Cardinalde Bissy, who, nevertheless, could not stop the torrent. At last, carried away by anger and vexation, Bissy seized the Marechal by the armand the shoulder, and hurried him to the door, which he opened, and thenpushed him out, and followed at his heels. Dubois, more dead than alive, followed also, as well as he could--he was obliged to be on his guardagainst the foreign ministers who were waiting. But the three disputantsvainly tried to appear composed; there was not one of the ministers whodid not perceive that some violent scene must have passed in the cabinet, and forthwith Versailles was filled with this news; which was soonexplained by the bragging, the explanations, the challenges, and thederisive speeches of the Marechal de Villeroy. 

I had worked and chatted for a long time with M. Le Duc d'Orleans. Hehad passed into his wardrobe, and I was standing behind his bureauarranging his papers when I saw Cardinal Dubois enter like a whirlwind, his eyes starting out of his head. Seeing me alone, he screamed ratherthan asked, "Where is M. Le Duc d'Orleans?" I replied that he had goneinto his wardrobe, and seeing him so overturned, I asked him what was thematter. 

"I am lost, I am lost!" he replied, running to the wardrobe. His replywas so loud and so sharp that M. Le Duc d'Orleans, who heard it, also ranforward, so that they met each other in the doorway. They returnedtowards me, and the Regent asked what was the matter. 

Dubois, who always stammered, could scarcely speak, so great was his rageand fear; but he succeeded at last in acquainting us with the details Ihave just given, although at greater length. He concluded by saying thatafter the insults he had received so treacherously, and in a manner sobasely premeditated, the Regent must choose between him and the Marechalde Villeroy, for that after what had passed he could not transact anybusiness or remain at the Court in safety and honour, while the Marechalde Villeroy remained there!

I cannot express the astonishment into which M. Le Duc d'Orleans and Iwere thrown. We could not believe what we had heard, but fancied we weredreaming. M. Le Duc d'Orleans put several questions to Dubois, I tookthe liberty to do the same, in order to sift the affair to the bottom. But there was no variation in the replies of the Cardinal, furious as hewas. Every moment he presented the same option to the Regent; everymoment he proposed that the Cardinal de Bissy should be sent for ashaving witnessed everything. It may be imagined that this second scene, which I would gladly have escaped, was tolerably exciting. 

The Cardinal still insisting that the Regent must choose which of the twobe sent away, M. Le Duc d'Orleans asked me what I thought. I repliedthat I was so bewildered and so moved by this astounding occurrence thatI must collect myself before speaking. The Cardinal, without addressinghimself to me but to M. Le Duc d'Orleans, who he saw was plunged Memoirsin embarrassment, strongly insisted that he must come to some resolution. Upon this M. Le Duc d'Orleans beckoned me over, and I said to him thathitherto I had always regarded the dismissal of the Marechal de Villeroyas a very dangerous enterprise, for reasons I had several times allegedto his Royal Highness: but that now whatever peril there might be inundertaking it, the frightful scene that had just been enacted persuadedme that it would be much more dangerous to leave him near the King thanto get rid of him altogether. I added that this was my opinion, sincehis Royal Highness wished to know it without giving me the time toreflect upon it with more coolness; but as for the execution, that mustbe well discussed before being attempted. 

Whilst I spoke, the Cardinal pricked up his ears, turned his eyes uponme, sucked in all my words, and changed colour like a man who hears hisdoom pronounced. My opinion relieved him as much as the rage with whichhe was filled permitted. M. Le Duc d'Orleans approved what I had justsaid, and the Cardinal, casting a glance upon me as of thanks, said hewas the master, and must choose, but that he must choose at once, becausethings could not remain as they were. Finally, it was agreed that therest of the day (it was now about twelve) and the following morningshould be given to reflection upon the matter, and that the next day, atthree o'clock in the afternoon, I should meet M. Le Duc d'Orleans. 

The next day accordingly I went to M. Le Prince, whom I found with theCardinal Dubois. M. Le Duc entered a moment after, quite full of theadventure. Cardinal Dubois did not fail, though, to give him an abridgedrecital of it, loaded with comments and reflections. He was more his ownmaster than on the preceding day, having had time to recover himself, wecherishing hopes that the Marechal would be sent to the right about. Itwas here that I heard of the brag of the Marechal de Villeroy concerningthe struggle he had had with Dubois, and of the challenges and insults hehad uttered with a confidence which rendered his arrest more and morenecessary. 

After we had chatted awhile, standing, Dubois went away. M. Le Ducd'Orleans sat down at his bureau, and M. Le Duc and I sat in front ofhim. There we deliberated upon what ought to be done. After a few wordsof explanation from the Regent, he called upon me to give my opinion. Idid so as briefly as possible, repeating what I had said on the previousday. M. Le Duc d'Orleans, during my short speech, was very attentive, but with the countenance of a man much embarrassed. 

As soon as I had finished, he asked M. Le Duc what he thought. M. Le Ducsaid his opinion was mine, and that if the Marechal de Villeroy remainedin his office there was nothing for it but to put the key outside thedoor; that was his expression. He reproduced some of the principalreasons I had alleged, supported them, and concluded by saying there wasnot a moment to lose. M. Le Duc d'Orleans summed up a part of what hadbeen said, and agreed that the Marechal de Villeroy must be got rid of. M. Le Duc again remarked that it must be done at once. Then we set aboutthinking how we could do it. 

M. Le Duc d'Orleans asked me my advice thereon. I said there were twothings to discuss, the pretext and the execution. That a pretext wasnecessary, such as would convince the impartial, and be unopposed even bythe friends of the Marechal de Villeroy; that above all things we had totake care to give no one ground for believing that the disgrace ofVilleroy was the fruit of the insults he had heaped upon Cardinal Dubois;that outrageous as those insults might be, addressed to a cardinal, to aminister in possession of entire confidence, and at the head of affairs, the public, who envied him and did not like him, well remembering whencehe had sprung, would consider the victim too illustrious; that thechastisement would overbalance the offence, and would be complained of;that violent resolutions, although necessary, should always have reasonand appearances in their favour; that therefore I was against allowingpunishment to follow too quickly upon the real offence, inasmuch as M. LeDuc d'Orleans had one of the best pretexts in the world for disgracingthe Marechal, a pretext known by everybody, and which would be admittedby everybody. 

I begged the Regent then to remember that he had told me several times henever had been able to speak to the King in private, or even in a whisperbefore others; that when he had tried, the Marechal de Villeroy had atonce come forward poking his nose between them, and declaring that whilehe was governor he would never suffer any one, not even his RoyalHighness, to address his Majesty in a low tone, much lest to speak to himin private. I said that this conduct towards the Regent, a grandson ofFrance, and the nearest relative the King had, was insolence enough todisgust every one, and apparent as such at half a glance. I counselledM. Le Duc d'Orleans to make use of this circumstance, and by its means tolay a trap for the Marechal into which there was not the slightest doubthe would fall. The trap was to be thus arranged. M. Le Duc d'Orleanswas to insist upon his right to speak to the King in private, and uponthe refusal of the Marechal to recognise it, was to adopt a new tone andmake Villeroy feel he was the master. I added, in conclusion, that thissnare must not be laid until everything was ready to secure its success. 

When I had ceased speaking, "You have robbed me, " said the Regent; "I wasgoing to propose the same thing if you had not. What do you think of it, Monsieur?" regarding M. Le Duc. That Prince strongly approved theproposition I had just made, briefly praised every part of it, and addedthat he saw nothing better to be done than to execute this plan verypunctually. 

It was agreed afterwards that no other plan could be adopted than that ofarresting the Marechal and sending him right off at once to Villeroy, andthen, after having allowed him to repose there a day or two, on accountof his age, but well watched, to see if he should be sent on to Lyons orelsewhere. The manner in which he was to be arrested was to be decidedat Cardinal Dubois' apartments, where the Regent begged me to go at once. I rose accordingly, and went there. 

I found Dubois with one or two friends, all of whom were in the secret ofthis affair, as he, at once told me, to put me at my ease. We soontherefore entered upon business, but it would be superfluous to relatehere all that passed in this little assembly. What we resolved on wasvery well executed, as will be seen. I arranged with Le Blanc, who wasone of the conclave, that the instant the arrest had taken place, heshould send to Meudon, and simply inquire after me; nothing more, andthat by this apparently meaningless compliment, I should know that theMarechal had been packed off. 

I returned towards evening to Meudon, where several friends of Madame deSaint-Simon and of myself often slept, and where others, following thefashion established at Versailles and Paris, came to dine or sup, so thatthe company was always very numerous. The scene between Dubois andVilleroy was much talked about, and the latter universally blamed. Neither then nor during the ten days which elapsed before his arrest, did it enter into the head of anybody to suppose that anything worsewould happen to him than general blame for his unmeasured violence, soaccustomed were people to his freaks, and to the feebleness of M. Le Ducd'Orleans. I was now delighted, however, to find such generalconfidence, which augmented that of the Marechal, and rendered more easythe execution of our project against him; punishment he more and moredeserved by the indecency and affectation of his discourses, and theaudacity of his continual challenges. 

Three or four days after, I went to Versailles, to see M. Le Ducd'Orleans. He said that, for want of a better, and in consequence ofwhat I had said to him on more than one occasion of the Duc de Charost, it was to him he intended to give the office of governor of the King:that he had secretly seen him that Charost had accepted with willingnessthe post, and was now safely shut up in his apartment at Versailles, seeing no one, and seen by no one, ready to be led to the King the momentthe time should arrive. The Regent went over with me all the measures tobe taken, and I returned to Meudon, resolved not to budge from it untilthey were executed, there being nothing more to arrange. 

On Sunday, the 12th of August, 1722, M. Le Duc d'Orleans went, towardsthe end of the afternoon, to work with the King, as he was accustomed todo several times each week; and as it was summer time now, he went afterhis airing, which he always took early. This work was to show the Kingby whom were to be filled up vacant places in the church, among themagistrates and intendants, &c. , and to briefly explain to him thereasons which suggested the selection, and sometimes the distribution ofthe finances. The Regent informed him, too, of the foreign news, whichwas within his comprehension, before it was made public. At theconclusion of this labour, at which the Marechal de Villeroy was alwayspresent, and sometimes M. De Frejus (when he made bold to stop), M. LeDuc d'Orleans begged the King to step into a little back cabinet, wherehe would say a word to him alone. 

The Marechal de Villeroy at once opposed. M. Le Duc d'Orleans, who hadlaid this snare far him, saw him fall into it with satisfaction. Herepresented to the Marechal that the King was approaching the age when hewould govern by himself, that it was time for him, who was meanwhile thedepository of all his authority, to inform him of things which he couldunderstand, and which could only be explained to him alone, whateverconfidence might merit any third person. The Regent concluded by beggingthe Marechal to cease to place any obstacles in the way of a thing sonecessary and so important, saying that he had, perhaps, to reproachhimself for, --solely out of complaisance to him, not having coercedbefore. 

The Marechal, arising and stroking his wig, replied that he knew therespect he owed, him, and knew also quite as well the respect he owed tothe King, and to his place, charged as he was with the person of hisMajesty, and being responsible for it. But he said he would not sufferhis Royal Highness to speak to the King in private (because he ought toknow everything said to his Majesty), still less would he suffer him tolead the King into a cabinet, out of his sight, for 'twas his (theMarechal's) duty never to lose sight of his charge, and in everything toanswer for it. 

Upon this, M. Le Duc d'Orleans looked fixedly at the Marechal and said, in the tone of a master, that he mistook himself and forgot himself; thathe ought to remember to whom he was speaking, and take care what words heused; that the respect he (the Regent) owed to the presence of the King, hindered him from replying as he ought to reply, and from continuing thisconversation. Therefore he made a profound reverence to the King, andwent away. 

The Marechal, thoroughly angry, conducted him some steps, mumbling andgesticulating; M. Le Duc d'Orleans pretending to neither see nor hearhim, the King astonished, and M. De Frejus laughing in his sleeve. Thebait so well swallowed, --no one doubted that the Marechal, audacious ashe was, but nevertheless a servile and timid courtier, would feel all thedifference between braving, bearding, and insulting Cardinal Dubois(odious to everybody, and always smelling of the vile egg from which hehad been hatched) and wrestling with the Regent in the presence of theKing, claiming to annihilate M. Le Duc d'Orleans' rights and authority, by appealing to his own pretended rights and authority as governor of theKing. People were not mistaken; less than two hours after what hadoccurred, it was known that the Marechal, bragging of what he had justdone, had added that he should consider himself very unhappy if M. Le Ducd'Orleans thought he had been wanting in respect to him, when his onlyidea was to fulfil his precious duty; and that he would go the next dayto have an explanation with his Royal Highness, which he doubted notwould be satisfactory to him. 

At every hazard, all necessary measures had been taken as soon as the daywas fixed on which the snare was to be laid for the Marechal. Nothingremained but to give form to them directly it was known that on themorrow the Marechal would come and throw himself into the lion's mouth. 

Beyond the bed-room of M. Le Duc d'Orleans was a large and fine cabinet, with four big windows looking upon the garden, and on the same floor, twopaces distant, two other windows; and two at the side in front of thechimney, and all these windows opened like doors. This cabinet occupiedthe corner where the courtiers awaited, and behind was an adjoiningcabinet, where M. Le Duc d'Orleans worked and received distinguishedpersons or favourites who wished to talk with him. 

The word was given. Artagnan, captain of the grey musketeers, was in theroom (knowing what was going to happen), with many trusty officers of hiscompany whom he had sent for, and former musketeers to be made use of ata pinch, and who clearly saw by these preparations that somethingimportant was in the wind, but without divining what. There were alsosome light horse posted outside these windows in the same ignorance, andmany principal officers and others in the Regent's bed-room, and in thegrand cabinet. 

All things being well arranged, the Marechal de Villeroy arrived aboutmid-day, with his accustomed hubbub, but alone, his chair and portersremaining outside, beyond the Salle des Gardes. He enters like acomedian, stops, looks round, advances some steps. Under pretext ofcivility, he is environed, surrounded. He asks in an authoritative tone, what M. Le Duc d'Orleans is doing: the reply is, he is in his privateroom within. 

The Marechal elevates his tone, says that nevertheless he must see theRegent; that he is going to enter; when lo! La Fare, captain of M. Le Ducd'Orleans' guards, presents himself before him, arrests him, and demandshis sword. The Marechal becomes furious, all present are in commotion. At this instant Le Blanc presents himself. His sedan chair, that hadbeen hidden, is planted before the Marechal. He cries aloud, he isshaking on his lower limbs; but he is thrust into the chair, which isclosed upon him and carried away in the twinkling of an eye through oneof the side windows into the garden, La Fare and Artagnan each on oneside of the chair, the light horse and musketeers behind, judging only bythe result what was in the wind. The march is hastened; the partydescend the steps of the orangery by the side of the thicket; the grandgate is found open and a coach and six before it. The chair is put down;the Marechal storms as he will; he is cast into the coach; Artagnanmounts by his side; an officer of the musketeers is in front; and one ofthe gentlemen in ordinary of the King by the side of the officer; twentymusketeers, with mounted officers, surround the vehicle, and away theygo. 

This side of the garden is beneath the window of the Queen's apartments(when occupied by the Infanta). This scene under the blazing noon-daysun was seen by no one, and although the large number of persons in M. LeDuc d'Orleans' rooms soon dispersed, it is astonishing that an affair ofthis kind remained unknown more than ten hours in the chateau ofVersailles. The servants of the Marechal de Villeroy (to whom nobody haddared to say a word) still waited with their master's chair near theSalle des Gardes. They were, told, after M. Le Duc d'Orleans had seenthe King, that the Marechal had gone to Villeroy, and that they couldcarry to him what was necessary. 

I received at Meudon the message arranged. I was sitting down to table, and it was only towards the supper that people came from Versailles totell us all the news, which was making much sensation there, but asensation very measured on account of the surprise and fear paused by themanner in which the arrest had been executed. 

It was no agreeable task, that which had to be performed soon after bythe Regent; I mean when he carried the news of the arrest to the King. He entered into his Majesty's cabinet, which he cleared of all thecompany it contained, except those people whose post gave them aright toenter, but of them there were not many present. At the first word, theKing reddened; his eyes moistened; he hid his face against the back of anarmchair, without saying a word; would neither go out nor play. He atebut a few mouthfuls at supper, wept, and did not sleep all night. Themorning and the dinner of the next day, the 14th, passed off but littlebetter. 

CHAPTER CXIV

That same 14th, as I rose from dinner at Meudon, with much company, thevalet de chambre who served me said that a courier from Cardinal Duboishad a letter for me, which he had not thought good to bring me before allmy guests. I opened the letter. The Cardinal conjured me to goinstantly and see him at Versailles, bringing with me a trusty servant, ready to be despatched to La Trappe, as soon as I had spoken with him, and not to rack my brains to divine what this might mean, because itwould be impossible to divine it, and that he was waiting with the utmostimpatience to tell it to me. I at once ordered my coach, which I thoughta long time in coming from the stables. They are a considerable distancefrom the new chateau I occupied. 

This courier to be taken to the Cardinal, in order to be despatched to LaTrappe, turned my head. I could not imagine what had happened to occupythe Cardinal so thoroughly so soon after the arrest of Villeroy. Theconstitution, or some important and unknown fugitive discovered at LaTrappe, and a thousand other thoughts, agitated me until I arrived atVersailles. 

Upon reaching the chateau, I saw Dubois at a window awaiting me, andmaking many signs to me, and upon reaching the staircase, I found himthere at the bottom, as I was about to mount. His first word was to askme if I had brought with me a man who could post to La Trappe. I showedhim my valet de chambre, who knew the road well, having travelled over itwith me very often, and who was well known to the Cardinal, who, whensimple Abbe Dubois, used very frequently to chat with him while waitingfor me. 

The Cardinal explained to me, as we ascended the stairs, the cause of hismessage. Immediately after the departure of the Marechal de Villeroy, M. Le Frejus, the King's instructor, had been missed. He haddisappeared. He had not slept at Versailles. No one knew what hadbecome of him! The grief of the King had so much increased uponreceiving this fresh blow--both his familiar friends taken from him atonce--that no one knew what to do with him. He was in the most violentdespair, wept bitterly, and could not be pacified. The Cardinalconcluded by saying that no stone must be left unturned in order to findM. De Frejus. That unless he had gone to Villeroy, it was probable hehad hid himself in La Trappe, and that we must send and see. With thishe led me to M. Le Duc d'Orleans. He was alone, much troubled, walkingup and down his chamber, and he said to me that he knew not what wouldbecome of the King, or what to do with him; that he was crying for M. DeFrejus, and--would listen to nothing; and the Regent began himself to cryout against this strange flight. 

After some further consideration, Dubois pressed me to go and write to LaTrappe. All was in disorder where we were; everybody spoke at once inthe cabinet; it was impossible, in the midst of all this noise, to writeupon the bureau, as I often did when I was alone with the King. Myapartment was in the new wing, and perhaps shut up, for I was notexpected that day. I went therefore, instead, into the chamber of Peze, close at hand, and wrote my letter there. The letter finished, and Iabout to descend, Peze, who had left me, returned, crying, "He is found!he is found! your letter is useless; return to M. Le Duc d'Orleans. "

He then related to me that just before, one of M. Le Duc d'Orleans'people, who knew that Frejus was a friend of the Lamoignons, had metCourson in the grand court, and had asked him if he knew what had becomeof Frejus; that Courson had replied, "Certainly: he went last night tosleep at Basville, where the President Lamoignon is;" and that upon this, the man hurried Courson to M. Le Duc d'Orleans to relate this to him. 

Peze and I arrived at M. Le Duc d'Orleans' room just after Courson leftit. Serenity had returned. Frejus was well belaboured. After a momentof cheerfulness, Cardinal Dubois advised M. Le Duc d'Orleans to go andcarry this good news to the King, and to say that a courier should atonce be despatched to Basville, to make his preceptor return. M. Le Ducd'Orleans acted upon the suggestion, saying he would return directly. Iremained with Dubois awaiting him. 

After having discussed a little this mysterious flight of Frejus, Duboistold me he had news of Villeroy. He said that the Marechal had notceased to cry out against the outrage committed upon his person, theaudacity of the Regent, the insolence of Dubois, or to hector Artagnanall the way for having lent himself to such criminal violence; then heinvoked the Manes of the deceased King, bragged of his confidence in him, the importance of the place he held, and for which he had been preferredabove all others; talked of the rising that so impudent an enterprisewould cause in Paris, throughout the realm, and in foreign countries;deplored the fate of the young King and of all the kingdom; the officersselected by the late King for the most precious of charges, driven away, the Duc du Maine first, himself afterwards; then he burst out intoexclamations and invectives; then into praises of his services, of hisfidelity, of his firmness, of his inviolable attachment to his duty. Infact, he was so astonished, so troubled, so full of vexation and of rage, that he was thoroughly beside himself. The Duc de Villeroy, the Marechalde Tallard and Biron had permission to go and see him at Villeroy:scarcely anybody else asked for it. 

M. Le Duc d'Orleans having returned from the King, saying that the newshe had carried had much appeased his Majesty, we agreed we must soarrange matters that Frejus should return the next morning, that M. LeDuc d'Orleans should receive him well, as though nothing had happened, and give him to understand that it was simply to avoid embarrassing him, that he had not been made aware of the secret of the arrest (explainingthis to him with all the more liberty, because Frejus hated the Marechal, his haughtiness, his jealousy, his capriciousness, and in his heart mustbe delighted at his removal, and at being able to have entire possessionof the--King), then beg him to explain to the King the necessity ofVilleroy's dismissal: then communicate to Frejus the selection of the Ducde Charost as governor of the King; promise him all the concert and theattention from this latter he could desire; ask him to counsel and guideCharost; finally, seize the moment of the King's joy at the return ofFrejus to inform his Majesty of the new governor chosen, and to presentCharost to him. All this was arranged and very well, executed next day. 

When the Marechal heard of it at Villeroy, he flew into a strange passionagainst Charost (of whom he spoke with the utmost contempt for havingaccepted his place), but above all against Frejus, whom he called atraitor and a villain! His first moments of passion, of fury, and oftransport, were all the more violent, because he saw by the tranquillityreigning everywhere that his pride had deceived him in inducing him tobelieve that the Parliament, the markets, all Paris would rise if theRegent dared to touch a person so important and so well beloved as heimagined himself to be. This truth, which he could no longer hide fromhimself, and which succeeded so rapidly to the chimeras that had been hisfood and his life, threw him into despair, and turned his head. He fellfoul of the Regent, of his minister, of those employed to arrest him, ofthose who had failed to defend him, of all who had not risen in revolt tobring him back in triumph, of Charost, who had dared to succeed him, andespecially of Frejus, who had deceived him in such an unworthy manner. Frejus was the person against whom he was the most irritated. Reproachesof ingratitude and of treachery rained unceasingly upon him; all that theMarechal had done for him with the deceased King was recollected; how hehad protected, aided, lodged, and fed him; how without him (Villeroy) he(Frejus) would never have been preceptor of the King; and all this wasexactly true. 

The treachery to which he alluded he afterwards explained. He said thathe and Frejus had agreed at the very commencement of the regency to actin union; and that if by troubles or events impossible to foresee, butwhich were only too common in regencies, one of them should be dismissedfrom office, the other not being able to hinder the dismissal, though nottouched himself, should at once withdraw and never return to his post, until the first was reinstated in his. And after these explanations, newcries broke out against the perfidy of this miserable wretch--(for themost odious terms ran glibly from the end of his tongue)--who thoughtlike a fool to cover his perfidy with a veil of gauze, in slipping off toBasville, so as to be instantly sought and brought back, in fear lest heshould lose his place by the slightest resistance or the slightest delay, and who expected to acquit himself thus of his word, and of thereciprocal engagement both had taken; and then he returned to freshinsults and fury against this serpent, as he said, whom he had warmed andnourished so many years in his bosom. 

The account of these transports and insults, promptly came from Villeroyto Versailles, brought, not only by the people whom the Regent had placedas guards over the Marechal, and to give an exact account of all he saidand did, day by day, but by all the domestics who came and went, andbefore whom Villeroy launched out his speeches, at table, while passingthrough his ante-chambers, or while taking a turn in his gardens. 

All this weighed heavily upon Frejus by the rebound. Despite theapparent tranquillity of his visage, he appeared confounded. He repliedby a silence of respect and commiseration in which he enveloped himself;nevertheless, he could not do so to the Duc de Villeroy, the Marechal deTallard, and a few others. He tranquilly said to them, that he had doneall he could to fulfil an engagement which he did not deny, but thatafter having thus satisfied the call of honour, he did not think he couldrefuse to obey orders so express from the King and the Regent, or abandonthe former in order to bring about the return of the Marechal deVilleroy, which was the object of their reciprocal engagement, and whichhe was certain he could not effect by absence, however prolonged. Butamidst these very sober excuses could be seen the joy which peeped forthfrom him, in spite of himself, at being freed from so inconvenient asuperior, at having to do with a new governor whom he could easilymanage, at being able when he chose to guide himself in all libertytowards the grand object he had always desired, which was to attachhimself to the King without reserve, and to make out of this attachment, obtained by all sorts of means, the means of a greatness which he did notyet dare to figure to himself, but which time and opportunity would teachhim how to avail himself of in the best manner, marching to it meanwhilein perfect security. 

The Marechal was allowed to refresh himself, and exhale his anger five orsix days at Villeroy; and as he was not dangerous away from the King, hewas sent to Lyons, with liberty to exercise his functions of governor ofthe town and province, measures being taken to keep a watch upon him, andDes Libois being left with him to diminish his authority by thismanifestation of precaution and surveillance, which took from him allappearance of credit. He would receive no honours on arriving there. A large quantity of his first fire was extinguished; this wide separationfrom Paris and the Court, where not even the slightest movement had takenplace, everybody being stupefied and in terror at an arrest of thisimportance; took from him all remaining hope, curbed his impetuosity, andfinally induced him to conduct himself with sagacity in order to avoidworse treatment. 

Such was the catastrophe of a man, so incapable of all the posts he hadoccupied, who displayed chimeras and audacity in the place of prudenceand sagacity, who everywhere appeared a trifler and a comedian, and whoseuniversal and profound ignorance (except of the meanest arts of thecourtier) made plainly visible the thin covering of probity and of virtuewith which he tried to hide his ingratitude, his mad ambition, his desireto overturn all in order to make himself the chief of all, in the midstof his weakness and his fears, and to hold a helm he was radicallyincapable of managing. I speak here only of his conduct since theestablishment of the regency. Elsewhere, in more than one place, thelittle or nothing he was worth has been shown; how his ignorance and hisjealousy lost us Flanders, and nearly ruined the State; how his felicitywas pushed to the extreme, and what deplorable reverses followed hisreturn. Sufficient to say that he never recovered from the state intowhich this last madness threw him, and that the rest of his life was onlybitterness, regret, contempt! He had persuaded the King that it was he, alone, who by vigilance and precaution had preserved his life from poisonthat others wished to administer to him. This was the source of thosetears shed by the King when Villeroy was carried off, and of his despairwhen Frejus disappeared. He did not doubt that both had been removed inorder that this crime might be more easily committed. 

The prompt return of Frejus dissipated the half, of his fear, thecontinuance of his good health delivered him by degrees from the other. The preceptor, who had a great interest in preserving the King, and whofelt much relieved by the absence of Villeroy, left nothing undone inorder to extinguish these gloomy ideas; and consequently to let blamefall upon him who had inspired them. He feared the return of theMarechal when the King, who was approaching his majority, should be themaster; once delivered of the yoke he did not wish it to be reimposedupon him. He well knew that the grand airs, the ironies, theauthoritative fussiness in public of the Marechal were insupportable tohis Majesty, and that they held together only by those frightful ideas ofpoison. To destroy them was to show the Marechal uncovered, and worsethan that to show to the King, without appearing to make a charge againstthe Marechal, the criminal interest he had in exciting these alarms, andthe falsehood and atrocity of such a venomous invention. Thesereflections; which the health of the King each day confirmed, sapped allesteem, all gratitude, and left his Majesty in full liberty of conscienceto prohibit, when he should be the master, all approach to his person onthe part of so vile and so interested an impostor. 

Frejus made use of these means to shelter himself against the possibilityof the Marechal's return, and to attach himself to the King withoutreserve. The prodigious success of his schemes has been only too wellfelt since. 

The banishment of Villeroy, flight and return of Frejus, and installationof Charost as governor of the King, were followed by the confirmation ofhis Majesty by the Cardinal de Rohan, and by his first communion, administered to him by this self-same Cardinal, his grand almoner. 

CHAPTER CXV

Villeroy being banished, the last remaining obstacle in Dubois' path wasremoved. There was nothing: now, to hinder him from being proclaimedprime minister. I had opposed it as stoutly as I could; but my wordswere lost upon M. Le Duc d'Orleans. Accordingly, about two o'clock inthe afternoon of the 23rd of August, 1722, Dubois was declared primeminister by the Regent, and by the Regent at once conducted to the Kingas such. 

After this event I began insensibly to withdraw from public affairs. Before the end of the year the King was consecrated at Rheims. Thedisorder at the ceremony was inexpressible. All precedent was forgotten. Rank was hustled and jostled, so to speak, by the crowd. The desire toexclude the nobility from all office and all dignity was obvious, at halfa glance. My spirit was ulcerated at this; I saw approaching thecomplete re-establishment of the bastards; my heart was cleft in twain, to see the Regent at the heels of his unworthy minister. He was a preyto the interest, the avarice, the folly, of this miserable wretch, and noremedy possible. Whatever experience I might have had of the astonishingweakness of M. Le Duc d'Orleans, it had passed all bounds when I saw himwith my own eyes make Dubois prime minister, after all I had said to himon the subject, --after all he had said to me. The year 1723 commenced, and found me in this spirit. It is at the end of this year I havedetermined to end those memoirs, and the details of it will not be sofull or so abundant as of preceding years. I was hopelessly wearied withM. Le Duc d'Orleans; I no longer approached this poor prince (with somany great and useless talents buried in him)--except with repugnance. I could not help feeling for him what the poor, Israelites said tothemselves in the desert about the manna: "Nauseat anima mea suffer cibumistum tevissimum. " I no longer deigned to speak to him. He perceivedthis: I felt he was pained at it; he strove to reconcile me to him, without daring, however, to speak of affairs, except briefly, and withconstraint, and yet he could not hinder himself from speaking of them. I scarcely took the trouble to reply to him, and I cut his conversationas short as possible. I abridged and curtailed my audiences with him;I listened to his reproaches with coldness. In fact, what had I todiscuss with a Regent who was no longer one, not even over himself, stillless over a realm plunged in disorder?

Cardinal Dubois, when he met me, almost courted me. He knew not how tocatch me. The bonds which united me to M. Le Duc d'Orleans had alwaysbeen so strong that the prime minister, who knew their strength, did notdare to flatter himself he could break them. His resource was to try todisgust me by inducing his master to treat me with a reserve which wascompletely new to him, and which cost him more than it cost me; for, infact, he had often found my confidence very useful to him, and had grownaccustomed to it. As for me, I dispensed with his friendship more thanwillingly, vexed at being no longer able to gather any fruit from it forthe advantage of the State or himself, wholly abandoned as he was to hisParis pleasures and to his minister. The conviction of my completeinutility more and more kept me in the background, without the slightestsuspicion that different conduct could be dangerous to me, or that, weakand abandoned to Dubois as was the Regent, the former could ever exileme, like the Duc de Roailles, and Cariillac, or disgust me into exilingmyself. I followed, then, my accustomed life. That is to say, never sawM. Le Duc d'Orleans except tete-a-tete, and then very seldom at intervalsthat each time grew longer, coldly, briefly, never talking to him ofbusiness, or, if he did to me, returning the conversation, and replyingit! a manner to make it drop. Acting thus, it is easy to see that I wasmixed up in nothing, and what I shall have to relate now will have lessof the singularity and instructiveness of good and faithful memoirs, thanof the dryness and sterility of the gazettes. 

First of all I will finish my account of Cardinal Dubois. I have verylittle more to say of him; for he had scarcely begun to enjoy his highhonours when Death came to laugh at him for the sweating labour he hadtaken to acquire them. 

On the 11th of June, 1723, the King went to reside at Meudon, ostensiblyin order that the chateau of Versailles might be cleared--in reality, to accommodate Cardinal Dubois. He had just presided over the assemblyof the day, and flattered to the last degree at this, wished to reposeupon the honour. He desired, also, to be present sometimes at theassembling of the Company of the Indies. Meudon brought him half-way toParis, and saved him a journey. His debauchery had so shattered hishealth that the movement of a coach gave him pains which he verycarefully hid. 

The King held at Meudon a review of his household, which in his pride theCardinal must needs attend. It cost him dear. He mounted on horsebackthe better, to enjoy his triumph; he suffered cruelly, and became soviolently ill that he was obliged to have assistance. The mostcelebrated doctors and physicians were called in, with great secrecy. They shook their heads, and came so often that news of the illness beganto transpire. Dubois was unable to go to Paris again more than once ortwice, and then with much trouble, and solely to conceal his malady, which gave him no repose. 

He left nothing undone, in fact, to hide it from the world; he went asoften as he could to the council; apprised the ambassadors he would go toParis, and did not go; kept himself invisible at home, and bestowed themost frightful abuse upon everybody who dared to intrude upon him. OnSaturday, the 7th of August, he was so ill that the doctors declared hemust submit to an operation, which was very urgent, and without which hecould hope to live but a few days; because the abscess he had havingburst the day he mounted on horseback, gangrene had commenced, with anoverflow of pus, and he must be transported, they added, to Versailles, in order to undergo this operation. The trouble this terribleannouncement caused him, so overthrew him that he could not be moved thenext day, Sunday, the 8th; but on Monday he was transported in a litter, at five o'clock in the morning. 

After having allowed him to repose himself a, little, the doctors andsurgeons proposed that he should receive the sacrament, and submit to theoperation immediately after. This was not heard very peacefully; he hadscarcely ever been free from fury since the day of the review; he hadgrown worse on Saturday, when the operation was first announced to him. Nevertheless, some little time after, he sent for a priest fromVersailles, with whom he remained alone about a quarter of an hour. Such a great and good man, so well prepared for death, did not need more:Prime ministers, too, have privileged confessions. As his chamber againfilled, it was proposed that he should take the viaticum; he cried outthat that was soon said, but there was a ceremonial for the cardinals, of which he was ignorant, and Cardinal Bissy must be sent to, at Paris, for information upon it. Everybody looked at his neighbour, and feltthat Dubois merely wished to gain time; but as the operation was urgent, they proposed it to him without further delay. He furiously sent themaway, and would no longer hear talk of it. 

The faculty, who saw the imminent danger of the slightest delay, sent toMeudon for M. Le Duc d'Orleans, who instantly came in the firstconveyance he could lay his hands on. He exhorted the Cardinal to sufferthe operation; then asked the faculty, if it could be performed insafety. They replied that they could say nothing for certain, but thatassuredly the Cardinal had not two hours to live if he did not instantlyagree to it. M. Le Duc d'Orleans returned to the sick man, and beggedhim so earnestly to do so, that he consented. 

The operation was accordingly performed about five o'clock, and in fiveminutes, by La Peyronie, chief surgeon of the King, and successor toMarechal, who was present with Chirac and others of the most celebratedsurgeons and doctors. The Cardinal cried and stormed strongly. M. LeDuc d'Orleans returned into the chamber directly after the operation wasperformed, and the faculty did not dissimulate from him that, judging bythe nature of the wound, and what had issued from it, the Cardinal hadnot long to live. He died, in fact, twenty-four hours afterwards, on the10th, of August, at five o'clock in the morning, grinding his teethagainst his surgeons and against Chirac, whom he had never ceased toabuse. 

Extreme unction was, however, brought to him. Of the communion, nothingmore was said--or of any priest for him--and he finished his life thus, in the utmost despair, and enraged at quitting it. Fortune had nicelyplayed with him; slid made him dearly and slowly buy her favours by allsorts of trouble, care, projects, intrigues, fears, labour, torment; andat last showered down upon him torrents of greater power, unmeasuredriches, to let him enjoy them only four years (dating from the time whenhe was made Secretary of State, and only two years dating from the timewhen he was made Cardinal and Prime Minister), and then snatched themfrom him, in the smiling moment when he was most enjoying them, at sixty-six years of age. 

He died thus, absolute master of his master, less a prime minister thanan all-powerful minister, exercising in full and undisturbed liberty theauthority and the power of the King; he was superintendent of the post, Cardinal, Archbishop of Cambrai, had seven abbeys, with respect to whichhe was insatiable to the last; and he had set on foot overtures in orderto seize upon those of Citeaux, Premonte, and others, and it was averredthat he received a pension from England of 40, 000 livres sterling! I hadthe curiosity to ascertain his revenue, and I have thought what I foundcurious enough to be inserted here, diminishing some of the benefices toavoid all exaggeration. I have made a reduction, too, upon what he drewfrom his place of prime minister, and that of the post. I believe, also, that he had 20, 000 livres from the clergy, as Cardinal, but I do not knowit as certain. What he drew from Law was immense. He had made use of agood deal of it at Rome, in order to obtain his Cardinalship; but aprodigious sum of ready cash was left in his hands. He had an extremequantity of the most beautiful plate in silver and enamel, most admirablyworked; the richest furniture, the rarest jewels of all kinds, the finestand rarest horses of all countries, and the most superb equipages. Histable was in every way exquisite and superb, and he did the honours of itvery well, although extremely sober by nature and by regime. 

The place of preceptor of M. Le Duc d'Orleans had procured for him theAbbey of Nogent-sous-Coucy; the marriage of the Prince that of Saint-Just; his first journeys to Hanover and England, those of Airvause and ofBourgueil: three other journeys, his omnipotence. What a monster ofFortune! With what a commencement, and with what an end!

ACCOUNT OF HIS RICHES:

 Benefices ............................. 324, 000 livres Prime Minister and Past ............... 250, 000 " Pension from England ................ 960, 000 " -------- 1, 534, 000 "

On Wednesday evening, the day after his death, Dubois was carried fromVersailles to the church of the chapter of Saint-Honore, in Paris, wherehe was interred some days after. Each of the academies of which he was amember had a service performed for him (at which they were present), theassembly of the clergy had another (he being their president); and asprime minister he had one at Notre Dame, at which the Cardinal deNoailles officiated, and at which the superior courts were present. There was no funeral oration at any of them. It could not be hazarded. His brother, more modest than he, and an honest man, kept the office ofsecretary of the cabinet, which he had, and which the Cardinal had givenhim. This brother found an immense heritage. He had but one son, canonof Saint-Honore, who had never desired places or livings, and who led agood life. He would touch scarcely anything of this rich succession. He employed a part of it in building for his uncle a sort of mausoleum(fine, but very modest, against the wall, at the end of the church, wherethe Cardinal is interred, with a Christian-like inscription), anddistributed the rest to the poor, fearing lest this money should bring acurse upon him. 

It was found some time after his death that the Cardinal had been longmarried, but very obscurely! He paid his wife to keep silent when hereceived his benefices; but when he dawned into greatness became muchembarrassed with her. He was always in agony lest she should comeforward and ruin him. His marriage had been made in Limousin, andcelebrated in a village church. When he was named Archbishop of Cambraihe resolved to destroy the proofs of this marriage, and employedBreteuil, Intendant of Limoges, to whom he committed the secret, to dothis for him skilfully and quietly. 

Breteuil saw the heavens open before him if he could but succeed in thisenterprise, so delicate and so important. He had intelligence, and knewhow to make use of it. He goes to this village where the marriage hadbeen celebrated, accompanied by only two or three valets, and arrangeshis journey so as to arrive at night, stops at the cure's house, indefault of an inn, familiarly claims hospitality like a man surprised bythe night, dying of hunger and thirst, and unable to go a step further. 

The good cure; transported with gladness to lodge M. L'Intendant, hastilyprepared all there was in the house, and had the honour of supping withhim, whilst his servant regaled the two valets in another room, Breteuilhaving sent them all away in order to be alone with his host. Breteuilliked his glass and knew how to empty it. He pretended to find thesupper good and the wine better. The cure, charmed with his guest, thought only of egging him on, as they say in the provinces. The tankardwas on the table, and was drained again and again with a familiaritywhich transported the worthy priest. Breteuil; who had laid his project, succeeded in it, and made the good man so drunk that he could not keepupright, or see, or utter a word. When Breteuil had brought him to thisstate, and had finished him off with a few more draughts of wine, heprofited by the information he had extracted from him during the firstquarter of an hour of supper. He had asked if his registers were in goodorder, and how far they extended, and under pretext of safety againstthieves, asked him where he kept them, and the keys of them, so that themoment Breteuil was certain the cure could no longer make use of hissenses, he took his keys, opened the cupboard, took from it the registerof the marriage of the year he wanted, very neatly detached the page hesought (and woe unto that marriage registered upon the same page), put itin his pocket, replaced the registers where he had found them, locked upthe cupboard, and put back the keys in the place he had taken themfrom. His only thought after this was to steal off as soon as the dawnappeared, leaving the good cure snoring away the effects of the wine, andgiving, some pistoles to the servant. 

He went thence to the notary, who had succeeded to the business and thepapers of the one who had made the contract of marriage; liked himself upwith him, and by force and authority made him give up the minutes of themarriage contract. He sent afterwards for the wife of Dubois (from whosehands the wily Cardinal had already obtained the copy of the contract shepossessed), threatened her with dreadful dungeons if she ever dared tobreathe a word of her marriage, and promised marvels to her if she keptsilent. 

He assured her, moreover, that all she could say or do would be thrownaway, because everything had been so arranged that she could provenothing, and that if she dared to speak, preparations were made forcondemning her as a calumniator and impostor, to rot with a shaven headin the prison of a convent! Breteuil placed these two importantdocuments in the hands of Dubois, and was (to the surprise and scandal ofall the world) recompensed, some time after, with the post of warsecretary, which, apparently; he had done nothing to deserve, and forwhich he was utterly unqualified. The secret reason of his appointmentwas not discovered until long after. 

Dubois' wife did not dare to utter a whisper. She came to Paris afterthe death of her husband. A good proportion was given to her of what wasleft. She lived obscure, but in easy circumstances, and died at Parismore than twenty years after the Cardinal Dubois, by whom she had had nochildren. The brother lived on very good terms with her. He was avillage doctor when Dubois sent for him to Paris: In the end this historywas known, and has been neither contradicted nor disavowed by anybody. 

We have many examples of prodigious fortune acquired by insignificantpeople, but there is no example of a person so destitute of all talent(excepting that of low intrigue), as was Cardinal Dubois, being thusfortunate. His intellect was of the most ordinary kind; his knowledgethe most common-place; his capacity nil; his exterior that of a ferret, of a pedant; his conversation disagreeable, broken, always uncertain; hisfalsehood written upon his forehead; his habits too measureless to behidden; his fits of impetuosity resembling fits of madness; his headincapable of containing more than one thing at a time, and he incapableof following anything but his personal interest; nothing was sacred withhim; he had no sort of worthy intimacy with any one; had a declaredcontempt for faith, promises, honour, probity, truth; took pleasure atlaughing at all these things; was equally voluptuous and ambitious, wishing to be all in all in everything; counting himself alone aseverything, and whatever was not connected with him as nothing; andregarding it as the height of madness to think or act otherwise. Withall this he was soft, cringing, supple, a flatterer, and false admirer, taking all shapes with the greatest facility, and playing the mostopposite parts in order to arrive at the different ends he proposed tohimself; and nevertheless was but little capable of seducing. Hisjudgment acted by fits and starts, was involuntarily crooked, with littlesense or clearness; he was disagreeable in spite of himself. Nevertheless, he could be funnily vivacious when he wished, but nothingmore, could tell a good story, spoiled, however, to some extent by hisstuttering, which his falsehood had turned into a habit from thehesitation he always had in replying and in speaking. With such defectsit is surprising that the only man he was able to seduce was M. Le Ducd'Orleans, who had so much intelligence, such a well-balanced mind, andso much clear and rapid perception of character. Dubois gained upon himas a child while his preceptor; he seized upon him as a young man byfavouring his liking for liberty, sham fashionable manners anddebauchery, and his disdain of all rule. He ruined his heart, his mind, and his habits, by instilling into him the principles of libertines, which this poor prince could no more deliver himself from than from thoseideas of reason, truth, and conscience which he always took care tostifle. 

Dubois having insinuated himself into the favour of his master in thismanner, was incessantly engaged in studying how to preserve his position. He never lost sight of his prince, whose great talents and great defectshe had learnt how to profit by. The Regent's feebleness was the mainrock upon which he built. As for Dubois' talent and capacity, as I havebefore said, they were worth nothing. All his success was due to hisservile pliancy and base intrigues. 

When he became the real master of the State he was just as incompetent asbefore. All his application was directed towards his master, and it hadfor sole aim that that master should not escape him. He wearied himselfin watching all the movements of the prince, what he did, whom he saw, and for how long; his humour, his visage, his remarks at the issue ofevery audience and of every party; who took part in them, what was saidand by whom, combining all these things; above all, he strove to frighteneverybody from approaching the Regent, and kept no bounds with any onewho had the temerity to do so without his knowledge and permission. Thiswatching occupied all his days, and by it he regulated all his movements. This application, and the orders he was obliged to give for appearancesake, occupied all his time, so that he became inaccessible except for afew public audiences, or for others to the foreign ministers. Yet themajority of those ministers never could catch him, and were obliged tolie in wait for him upon staircases or in passages, where he did notexpect to meet them. Once he threw into the fire a prodigious quantityof unopened letters, and then congratulated himself upon having got ridof all his business at once. At his death thousands of letters werefound unopened. 

Thus everything was in arrear, and nobody, not even the foreignministers, dared to complain to M. Le Duc d'Orleans, who, entirelyabandoned to his pleasures, and always on the road from Versailles toParis, never thought of business, only too satisfied to find himself sofree, and attending to nothing except the few trifles he submitted to theKing under the pretence of working with his Majesty. Thus, nothing couldbe settled, and all was in chaos. To govern in this manner there is noneed for capacity. Two words to each minister charged with a department, and some care in garnishing the councils attended by the King, with theleast important despatches (settling the others with M. Le Duc d'Orleans)constituted all the labour of the prime minister; and spying, scheming, parade, flatteries, defence, occupied all his time. His fits of passion, full of insults and blackguardism, from which neither man nor woman, nomatter of what rank, was sheltered, relieved him from an infinite numberof audiences, because people preferred going to subalterns, or neglectingtheir business altogether, to exposing themselves to this fury and theseaffronts. 

The mad freaks of Dubois, especially when he had become master, andthrown off all restraint, would fill a volume. I will relate only one ortwo as samples. His frenzy was such that he would sometimes run allround the chamber, upon the tables and chairs, without touching thefloor! M. Le Duc d'Orleans told me that he had often witnessed this. 

Another sample:

The Cardinal de Gesvres came over to-day to complain to M. Le Ducd'Orleans that the Cardinal Dubois had dismissed him in the most filthyterms. On a former occasion, Dubois had treated the Princesse deMontauban in a similar manner, and M. Le Duc d'Orleans had replied to hercomplaints as he now replied to those of the Cardinal de Gesvres. Hetold the Cardinal, who was a man of good manners, of gravity, and ofdignity (whereas the Princess deserved what she got) that he had alwaysfound the counsel of the Cardinal Dubois good, and that he thought he(Gesvres ) would do well to follow the advice just given him! Apparentlyit was to free himself from similar complaints that he spoke thus; and, in fact, he had no more afterwards. 

Another sample:

Madame de Cheverny, become a widow, had retired to the Incurables. Herplace of governess of the daughters of M. Le Duc d'Orleans had been givento Madame de Conflans. A little while after Dubois was consecrated, Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans asked Madame de Conflans if she had calledupon him. Thereupon Madame de Conflans replied negatively and that shesaw no reason for going, the place she held being so little mixed up inState affairs. Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans pointed out how intimate theCardinal was with M. Le Duc d'Orleans. Madame de Conflans still tried toback out, saying that he was a madman, who insulted everybody, and towhom she would not expose herself. She had wit and a tongue, and wassupremely vain, although very polite. Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans burstout laughing at her fear, and said, that having nothing to ask of theCardinal, but simply to render an account to him of the office M. Le Ducd'Orleans had given her, it was an act of politeness which could onlyplease him, and obtain for her his regard, far from having anythingdisagreeable, or to be feared about it; and finished by saying to herthat it was proper, and that she wished her to go. 

She went, therefore, for it was at Versailles, and arrived in a largecabinet, where there were eight or ten persons waiting to speak to theCardinal, who was larking with one of his favourites, by the mantelpiece. Fear seized upon Madame de Conflans, who was little, and who appearedless. Nevertheless, she approached as this woman retired. The Cardinal, seeing her advance, sharply asked her what she wanted. 

"Monseigneur, " said she, --"Oh, Monseigneur--"

"Monseigneur, " interrupted the Cardinal, "I can't now. "

"But, Monseigneur, " replied she--

"Now, devil take me, I tell you again, " interrupted the Cardinal, "when Isay I can't, I can't. "

"Monseigneur, " Madame de Conflans again said, in order to explain thatshe wanted nothing; but at this word the Cardinal seized her by theshoulders; and pushed her out, saying, "Go to the devil, and let mealone. "

She nearly fell over, flew away in fury, weeping hot tears, and reached, in this state, Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans, to whom, through her sobs, she related the adventure. 

People were so accustomed to the insults of the Cardinal, and this wasthought so singular and so amusing, that the recital of it caused shoutsof laughter, which finished off poor Madame de Conflans, who swore that, never in her life, would she put foot in the house of this madman. 

The Easter Sunday after he was made Cardinal, Dubois woke about eighto'clock, rang his bells as though he would break them, called for hispeople with the most horrible blasphemies, vomited forth a thousandfilthy expressions and insults, raved at everybody because he had notbeen awakened, said that he wanted to say mass, but knew not how to findtime, occupied as he was. After this very beautiful preparation, he verywisely abstained from saying mass, and I don't know whether he ever didsay it after his consecration. 

He had taken for private secretary one Verrier, whom he had unfrockedfrom the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Pres, the business of which he hadconducted for twenty years, with much cleverness and intelligence. Hesoon accommodated himself to the humours of the Cardinal, and said to himall he pleased. 

One morning he was with the Cardinal, who asked for something that couldnot at once be found. Thereupon Dubois began to blaspheme, to stormagainst his clerks, saying that if he had not enough he would engagetwenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred, and making the most frightful din. Verrier tranquilly listened to him. The Cardinal asked him if it was nota terrible thing to be so ill-served, considering the expense he was putto; then broke out again, and pressed him to reply. 

"Monseigneur, " said Verrier, "engage one more clerk, and give him, forsole occupation, to swear and storm for you, and all will go well; youwill have much more time to yourself and will be better served. "

The Cardinal burst out laughing, and was appeased. 

Every evening he ate an entire chicken for his supper. I know not bywhose carelessness, but this chicken was forgotten one evening by hispeople. As he was about to go to bed he bethought him of his bird, rang, cried out, stormed against his servants, who ran and coolly listened tohim. Upon this he cried the more, and complained of not having beenserved. He was astonished when they replied to him that he had eaten hischicken, but that if he pleased they would put another down to the spit. 

"What!" said he, "I have eaten my chicken!"

The bold and cool assertion of his people persuaded him, and they laughedat him. 

I will say no more, because, I repeat it, volumes might be filled withthese details. I have said enough to show what was this monstrouspersonage, whose death was a relief to great and little, to all Europe, even to his brother, whom he treated like a negro. He wanted to dismissa groom on one occasion for having lent one of his coaches to this samebrother, to go somewhere in Paris. 

The most relieved of all was M. Le Duc d'Orleans. For a long time he hadgroaned in secret beneath the weight of a domination so harsh, and ofchains he had forged for himself. Not only he could no longer dispose ordecide upon anything, but he could get the Cardinal to do nothing, greator small, he desired done. He was obliged, in everything, to follow thewill of the Cardinal, who became furious, reproached him, and stormedat him when too much contradicted. The poor Prince felt thus theabandonment into which he had cast himself, and, by this abandonment, the power of the Cardinal, and the eclipse of his own power. He fearedhim; Dubois had become insupportable to him; he was dying with desire, aswas shown in a thousand things, to get rid of him, but he dared not--hedid not know how to set about it; and, isolated and unceasingly wretchedas he was, there was nobody to whom he could unbosom himself; and theCardinal, well informed of this, increased his freaks, so as to retain byfear what he had usurped by artifice, and what he no longer hoped topreserve in any other way. 

As soon as Dubois was dead, M. Le Duc d'Orleans returned to Meudon, toinform the King of the event. The King immediately begged him to chargehimself with the management of public affairs, declared him primeminister, and received, the next day, his oath, the patent of which wasimmediately sent to the Parliament, and verified. This promptdeclaration was caused by the fear Frejus had to see a private personprime minister. The King liked M. Le Duc d'Orleans, as we have alreadyseen by the respect he received from him, and by his manner of workingwith him. The Regent, without danger of being taken at his word, alwaysleft him master of all favours, and of the choice of persons he proposedto him; and, besides, never bothered him, or allowed business tointerfere with his amusements. In spite of all the care and all thesuppleness Dubois had employed in order to gain the spirit of the King, he never could succeed, and people remarked, without having wonderfuleyes, a very decided repugnance of the King for him. The Cardinal wasafflicted, but redoubled his efforts, in the hope at last of success. But, in addition to his own disagreeable manners, heightened by thevisible efforts he made to please, he had two enemies near the King, verywatchful to keep him away from the young prince--the Marechal deVilleroy, while he was there, and Frejus, who was much more dangerous, and who was resolved to overthrow him. Death, as we have seen, sparedhim the trouble. 

The Court returned from Meudon to Paris on the 13th of August. Soonafter I met M. Le Duc d'Orleans there. 

As soon as he saw me enter his cabinet he ran to me, and eagerly asked meif I meant to abandon him. I replied that while his Cardinal lived Ifelt I should be useless to him, but that now this obstacle was removed, I should always be very humbly at his service. He promised to live withme on the same terms as before, and, without a word upon the Cardinal, began to talk about home and foreign affairs. If I flattered myself thatI was to be again of use to him for any length of time, events soon cameto change the prospect. But I will not anticipate my story. 

CHAPTER CXVI

The Duc de Lauzun died on the 19th of November, at the age of ninetyyears and six months. The intimate union of the two sisters I and he hadespoused, and our continual intercourse at the Court (at Marly, we had apavilion especially for us four), caused me to be constantly with him, and after the King's death we saw each other nearly every day at Paris, and unceasingly frequented each other's table. He was so extraordinary apersonage, in every way so singular, that La Bruyere, with much justice, says of him in his "Characters, " that others were not allowed to dream ashe had lived. For those who saw him in his old age, this descriptionseems even more just. That is what induces me to dwell upon him here. He was of the House of Caumont, the branch of which represented by theDucs de la Force has always passed for the eldest, although that ofLauzun has tried to dispute with it. 

The mother of M. De Lauzun was daughter of the Duc de la Force, son ofthe second Marechal Duc de la Force, and brother of the Marechale deTurenne, but by another marriage; the Marechale was by a first marriage. The father of M. De Lauzun was the Comte de Lauzun, cousin-german of thefirst Marechal Duc de Grammont, and of the old Comte de Grammont. 

M. De Lauzun was a little fair man, of good figure, with a noble andexpressively commanding face, but which was without charm, as I haveheard people say who knew him when he was young. He was full ofambition, of caprice, of fancies; jealous of all; wishing always to gotoo far; never content with anything; had no reading, a mind in no waycultivated, and without charm; naturally sorrowful, fond of solitude, uncivilised; very noble in his dealings, disagreeable and malicious bynature, still more so by jealousy and by ambition; nevertheless, a goodfriend when a friend at all, which was rare; a good relative; enemy evenof the indifferent; hard upon faults, and upon what was ridiculous, which he soon discovered; extremely brave, and as dangerously bold. As a courtier he was equally insolent and satirical, and as cringing as avalet; full of foresight, perseverance, intrigue, and meanness, in orderto arrive at his ends; with this, dangerous to the ministers; at theCourt feared by all, and full of witty and sharp remarks which sparednobody. 

He came very young to the Court without any fortune, a cadet of Gascony, under the name of the Marquis de Puyguilhem. The Marechal de Grammont, cousin-german of his brother, lodged him: Grammont was then in highconsideration at the Court, enjoyed the confidence of the Queen-mother, and of Cardinal Mazarin, and had the regiment of the guards and thereversion of it for the Comte de Guiche, his eldest son, who, the princeof brave fellows, was on his side in great favour with the ladies, andfar advanced in the good graces of the King and of the Comtesse deSoissons, niece of the Cardinal, whom the King never quitted, and who wasthe Queen of the Court. This Comte de Guiche introduced to the Comtessede Soissons the Marquis de Puyguilhem, who in a very little time becamethe King's favourite. The King, in fact, gave him his regiment ofdragoons on forming it, and soon after made him Marechal de Camp, andcreated for him the post of colonel-general of dragoons. 

The Duc de Mazarin, who in 1669 had already retired from the Court, wished to get rid of his post of grand master of the artillery;Puyguilhem had scent of his intention, and asked the King for thisoffice. The King promised it to him, but on condition that he kept thematter secret some days. The day arrived on which the King had agreed todeclare him. Puyguilhem, who had the entrees of the first gentleman ofthe chamber (which are also named the grandes entrees), went to wait forthe King (who was holding a finance council), in a room that nobodyentered during the council, between that in which all the Court waited, and that in which the council itself was held. He found there no one butNyert, chief valet de chambre, who asked him how he happened to comethere. Puyguilhem, sure of his affair, thought he should make a friendof this valet by confiding to him what was about to take place. Nyertexpressed his joy; then drawing out his watch, said he should have timeto go and execute a pressing commission the King had given him. Hemounted four steps at a time the little staircase, at the head of whichwas the bureau where Louvois worked all day--for at Saint-Germain thelodgings were little and few--and the ministers and nearly all the Courtlodged each at his own house in the town. Nyert entered the bureau ofLouvois, and informed him that upon leaving the council (of which Louvoiswas not a member), the King was going to declare Puyguilhem grand masterof the artillery, adding that he had just learned this news fromPuyguilhem himself, and saying where he had left him. 

Louvois hated Puyguilhem, friend of Colbert, his rival, and he feared hisinfluence in a post which had so many intimate relations with hisdepartment of the war, the functions and authority of which he invadedas much as possible, a proceeding which he felt Puyguilhem was not thekind of man to suffer. He embraces Nyert, thanking him, dismisses him asquickly as possible, takes some papers to serve as an excuse, descends, and finds Puyguilhem and Nyert in the chamber, as above described. Nyertpretends to be surprised to see Louvois arrive, and says to him that thecouncil has not broken up. 

"No matter, " replied Louvois, "I must enter, I have something importantto say to the King;" and thereupon he enters. The King, surprised to seehim, asks what brings him there, rises, and goes to him. Louvois drawshim into the embrasure of a window, and says he knows that his Majesty isgoing to declare Puyguilhem grand master of the artillery; that he iswaiting in the adjoining room for the breaking up of the council; thathis Majesty is fully master of his favours and of his choice, but that he(Louvois) thinks it his duty to represent to him the incompatibilitybetween Puyguilhem and him, his caprices, his pride; that he will wish tochange everything in the artillery; that this post has such intimaterelations with the war department, that continual quarrels will arisebetween the two, with which his Majesty will be importuned at everymoment. 

The King is piqued to see his secret known by him from whom, above all, he wished to hide it; he replies to Louvois, with a very serious air, that the appointment is not yet made, dismisses him, and reseats himselfat the council. A moment after it breaks up. The King leaves to go tomass, sees Puyguilhem, and passes without saying anything to him. Puyguilhem, much astonished, waits all the rest of the day, and seeingthat the promised declaration does not come, speaks of it to the King atnight. The King replies to him that it cannot be yet, and that he willsee; the ambiguity of the response, and the cold tone, alarm Puyguilhem;he is in favour with the ladies, and speaks the jargon of gallantry; hegoes to Madame de Montespan, to whom he states his disquietude, andconjures her to put an end to it. She promises him wonders, and amuseshim thus several days. 

Tired of this, and not being able to divine whence comes his failure, hetakes a resolution--incredible if it was not attested by all the Court ofthat time. The King was in the habit of visiting Madame de Montespan inthe afternoon, and of remaining with her some time. Puyguilhem was onterms of tender intimacy with one of the chambermaids of Madame deMontespan. She privately introduced him into the room where the Kingvisited Madame de Montespan, and he secreted himself under the bed. Inthis position he was able to hear all the conversation that took placebetween the King and his mistress above, and he learned by it that it wasLouvois who had ousted him; that the King was very angry at the secrethaving got wind, and had changed his resolution to avoid quarrels betweenthe artillery and the war department; and, finally, that Madame deMontespan, who had promised him her good offices, was doing him all theharm she could. A cough, the least movement, the slightest accident, might have betrayed the foolhardy Puyguilhem, and then what would havebecome of him? These are things the recital of which takes the breathaway, and terrifies at the same time. 

Puyguilhem was more fortunate than prudent, and was not discovered. TheKing and his mistress at last closed their conversation; the King dressedhimself again, and went to his own rooms. Madame de Montespan went awayto her toilette, in order to prepare for the rehearsal of a ballet towhich the King, the Queen, and all the Court were going. The chambermaiddrew Puyguilhem from under the bed, and he went and glued himself againstthe door of Madame de Montespan's chamber. 

When Madame de Montespan came forth, in order to go to the rehearsal ofthe ballet, he presented his hand to her, and asked her, with an air ofgentleness and of respect, if he might flatter himself that she haddeigned to think of him when with the King. She assured him that she hadnot failed, and enumerated services she had; she said, just rendered him. Here and there he credulously interrupted her with questions, the betterto entrap her; then, drawing near her, he told her she was a liar, ahussy, a harlot, and repeated to her, word for word, her conversationwith the King!

Madame de Montespan was so amazed that she had not strength enough toreply one word; with difficulty she reached the place she was going to, and with difficulty overcame and hid the trembling of her legs and of herwhole body; so that upon arriving at the room where the rehearsal was totake place, she fainted. All the Court was already there. The King, ingreat fright, came to her; it was not without much trouble she wasrestored to herself. The same evening she related to the King what hadjust happened, never doubting it was the devil who had so promptly and soprecisely informed Puyguilhem of all that she had said to the King. TheKing was extremely irritated at the insult Madame de Montespan hadreceived, and was much troubled to divine how Puyguilhem had been soexactly and so suddenly instructed. 

Puyguilhem, on his side, was furious at losing the artillery, so that theKing and he were under strange constraint together. This could last onlya few days. Puyguilhem, with his grandes entrees, seized his opportunityand had a private audience with the King. He spoke to him of theartillery, and audaciously summoned him to keep his word. The Kingreplied that he was not bound by it, since he had given it under secrecy, which he (Puyguilhem) had broken. 

Upon this Puyguilhem retreats a few steps, turns his back upon the King, draws his sword, breaks the blade of it with his foot, and cries out infury, that he will never in his life serve a prince who has so shamefullybroken his word. The King, transported with anger, performed in thatmoment the finest action perhaps of his life. He instantly turned round, opened the window, threw his cane outside, said he should be sorry tostrike a man of quality, and left the room. 

The next morning, Puyguilhem, who had not dared to show himself since, was arrested in his chamber, and conducted to the Bastille. He was anintimate friend of Guitz, favourite of the King, for whom his Majesty hadcreated the post of grand master of the wardrobe. Guitz had the courageto speak to the King in favour of Puyguilhem, and to try and reawaken theinfinite liking he had conceived for the young Gascon. He succeeded sowell in touching the King, by showing him that the refusal of such agrand post as the artillery had turned Puyguilhem's head, that hisMajesty wished to make amends far this refusal. He offered the post ofcaptain of the King's guards to Puyguilhem, who, seeing this incredibleand prompt return of favour, re-assumed sufficient audacity to refuse it, flattering himself he should thus gain a better appointment. The Kingwas not discouraged. Guitz went and preached to his friend in theBastille, and with great trouble made him agree to have the goodness toaccept the King's offer. As soon as he had accepted it he left theBastille, went and saluted the King, and took the oaths of his new post, selling that which he occupied in the dragoons. 

He had in 1665 the government of Berry, at the death of Marechal deClerembault. I will not speak here of his adventures with Mademoiselle, which she herself so naively relates in her memoirs, or of his extremefolly in delaying his marriage with her (to which the King hadconsented), in order to have fine liveries, and get the marriagecelebrated at the King's mass, which gave time to Monsieur (incited by M. Le Prince) to make representations to the King, which induced him toretract his consent, breaking off thus the marriage. Mademoiselle made aterrible uproar, but Puyguilhem, who since the death of his father hadtaken the name of Comte de Lauzun, made this great sacrifice with goodgrace, and with more wisdom than belonged to him. He had the company ofthe hundred gentlemen, with battle-axes, of the King's household, whichhis father had had, and he had just been made lieutenant-general. 

Lauzun was in love with Madame de Monaco, an intimate friend of Madame, and in all her Intrigues: He was very jealous of her, and was not pleasedwith her. One summer's afternoon he went to Saint-Cloud, and foundMadame and her Court seated upon the ground, enjoying the air, and Madamede Monaco half lying down, one of her hands open and outstretched. Lauzun played the gallant with the ladies, and turned round so neatlythat he placed his heel in the palm of Madame de Monaco, made a pirouettethere, and departed. Madame de Monaco had strength enough to utter nocry, no word!

A short time after he did worse. He learnt that the King was on intimateterms with Madame de Monaco, learnt also the hour at which Bontems, thevalet, conducted her, enveloped in a cloak, by a back staircase, upon thelanding-place of which was a door leading into the King's cabinet, and infront of it a private cabinet. Lauzun anticipates the hour, and lies inambush in the private cabinet, fastening it from within with a hook, andsees through the keyhole the King open the door of the cabinet, put thekey outside (in the lock) and close the door again. Lauzun waits alittle, comes out of his hiding-place, listens at the door in which theKing had just placed the key, locks it, and takes out the key, which hethrows into the private cabinet, in which he again shuts himself up. 

Some time after Bontems and the lady arrive. Much astonished not to findthe key in the door of the King's cabinet, Bontems gently taps at thedoor several times, but in vain; finally so loudly does he tap that theKing hears the sound. Bontems says he is there, and asks his Majesty toopen, because the key is not in the door. The King replies that he hasjust put it there. Bontems looks on the ground for it, the Kingmeanwhile trying to open the door from the inside, and finding it double-locked. Of course all three are much astonished and much annoyed; theconversation is carried on through the door, and they cannot determinehow this accident has happened. The King exhausts himself in efforts toforce the door, in spite of its being double-locked. At last they areobliged to say good-bye through the door, and Lauzun, who hears everyword they utter, and who sees them through the keyhole, laughs in hissleeve at their mishap with infinite enjoyment. 

CHAPTER CXVII

In 1670 the King wished to make a triumphant journey with the ladies, under pretext of visiting his possessions in Flanders, accompanied by anarmy, and by all his household troops, so that the alarm was great in theLow Countries, which he took no pains to appease. He gave the command ofall to Lauzun, with the patent of army-general. Lauzun performed theduties of his post with much intelligence, and with extreme gallantry andmagnificence. This brilliancy, and this distinguished mark of favour, made Louvois, whom Lauzun in no way spared, think very seriously. Heunited with Madame de Montespan (who had not pardoned the discoveryLauzun had made, or the atrocious insults he had bestowed upon her), andthe two worked so well that they reawakened in the King's mindrecollections of the broken sword, the refusal in the Bastille of thepost of captain of the guards, and made his Majesty look upon Lauzun as aman who no longer knew himself, who had suborned Mademoiselle until hehad been within an inch of marrying her, and of assuring to himselfimmense wealth; finally, as a man, very dangerous on account of hisaudacity, and who had taken it into his head to gain the devotion of thetroops by his magnificence, his services to the officers, and by themanner in which he had treated them during the Flanders journey, makinghimself adored. They made him out criminal for having remained thefriend of, and on terms of great intimacy with, the Comtesse de Soissons, driven from the Court and suspected of crimes. They must have accusedLauzun also of crimes which I have never heard of, in order to procurefor him the barbarous treatment they succeeded in subjecting him to. 

Their intrigues lasted all the year, 1671, without Lauzun discoveringanything by the visage of the King, or that of Madame de Montespan. Boththe King and his mistress treated him with their ordinary distinction andfamiliarity. He was a good judge of jewels (knowing also how to set themwell), and Madame de Montespan often employed him in this capacity. Oneevening, in the middle of November, 1671, he arrived from Paris, whereMadame de Montespan had sent him in the morning for some precious stones, and as he was about to enter his chamber he was arrested by the Marechalde Rochefort, captain of the guards. 

Lauzun, in the utmost surprise, wished to know why, to see the King orMadame de Montespan--at least, to write to them; everything was refusedhim. He was taken to the Bastille, and shortly afterwards to Pignerol, where he was shut up in a low-roofed dungeon. His post of captain of thebody-guard was given to M. De Luxembourg, and the government of Berry tothe Duc de la Rochefoucauld, who, at the death of Guitz, at the passageof the Rhine, 12th June, 1672, was made grand master of the wardrobe. 

It may be imagined what was the state of a man like Lauzun, precipitated, in a twinkling, from such a height to a dungeon in the chateau ofPignerol, without seeing anybody, and ignorant of his crime. He bore up, however, pretty well, but at last fell so ill that he began to thinkabout confession. I have heard him relate that he feared a fictitiouspriest, and that, consequently, he obstinately insisted upon a Capuchin;and as soon as he came he seized him by the beard, and tugged at it, as hard as he could, on all sides, in order to see that it was not a shamone! He was four or five years in his gaol. Prisoners find employmentwhich necessity teaches them. There ware prisoners above him and at theside of him. They found means to speak to him. This intercourse ledthem to make a hole, well hidden, so as to talk more easily; then toincrease it, and visit each other. 

The superintendent Fouquet had been enclosed near them ever sinceDecember, 1664. He knew by his neighbours (who had found means of seeinghim) that Lauzun was under them. Fouquet, who received no news, hopedfor some from him, and had a great desire to see him. He, had leftLauzun a young man, dawning at the Court, introduced by the Marechal deGrammont, well received at the house of the Comtesse de Soissons, whichthe King never quitted, and already looked upon favourably. Theprisoners, who had become intimate with Lauzun, persuaded him to allowhimself to be drawn up through their hole, in order to see Fouquet intheir dungeon. Lauzun was very willing. They met, and Lauzun beganrelating, accordingly, his fortunes and his misfortunes, to Fouquet. Theunhappy superintendent opened wide his ears and eyes when he heard thisyoung Gasepan (once only too happy to be welcomed and harboured by theMarechal de Grammont) talk of having been general of dragoons, captain ofthe guards, with the patent and functions of army-general! Fouquet nolonger knew where he was, believed Lauzun mad, and that he was relatinghis visions, when he described how he had missed the artillery, and whathad passed afterwards thereupon: but he was convinced that madness hadreached its climax, and was afraid to be with Lauzun, when he heard himtalk of his marriage with Mademoiselle, agreed to by the King, howbroken, and the wealth she had assured to him. This much curbed theirintercourse, as far as Fouquet was concerned, for he, believing the brainof Lauzun completely turned, took for fairy tales all the stories theGascon told him of what had happened in the world, from the imprisonmentof the one to the imprisonment of the other. 

The confinement of Fouquet was a little relieved before that of Lauzun. His wife and some officers of the chateau of Pignerol had permission tosee him, and to tell him the news of the day. One of the first things hedid was to tell them of this poor Puyguilhem, whom he had left young, andon a tolerably good footing for his age, at the Court, and whose head wasnow completely turned, his madness hidden within the prison walls; butwhat was his astonishment when they all assured him that what he hadheard was perfectly true! He did not return to the subject, and wastempted to believe them all mad together. It was some time before he waspersuaded. 

In his turn, Lauzun was taken from his dungeon, and had a chamber, andsoon after had the same liberty that had been given to Fouquet; finally, they were allowed to see each other as much as they liked. I have neverknown what displeased Lauzun, but he left Pignerol the enemy of Fouquet, and did him afterwards all the harm he could, and after his deathextended his animosity to his family. 

During the long imprisonment of Lauzun, Madame de Nogent, one of hissisters, took such care of his revenues that he left Pignerol extremelyrich. 

Mademoiselle, meanwhile, was inconsolable at this long and harshimprisonment, and took all possible measures to deliver Lauzun. The Kingat last resolved to turn this to the profit of the Duc du Maine, and tomake Mademoiselle pay dear for the release of her lover. He caused aproposition to be made to her, which was nothing less than to assure tothe Duc du Maine, and his posterity after her death, the countdom of Eu, the Duchy of Aumale, and the principality of Domfes! The gift wasenormous, not only as regards the value, but the dignity and extent ofthese three slices. Moreover, she had given the first two to Lauzun, with the Duchy of Saint-Forgeon, and the fine estate of Thiers, inAuvergne, when their marriage was broken off, and she would have beenobliged to make him renounce Eu and Aumale before she could have disposedof them in favour of the Duc du Maine. Mademoiselle could not, make upher mind to this yoke, or to strip Lauzun of such considerable benefits. She was importuned to the utmost, finally menaced by the ministers, nowLouvois, now Colbert. With the latter she was better pleased, because hehad always been on good terms with Lauzun, and because he handled hermore gently than Louvois, who, an enemy of her lover, always spoke in theharshest terms. Mademoiselle unceasingly felt that the King did not likeher, and that he had never pardoned her the Orleans journey, still lessher doings at the Bastille, when she fired its cannons upon the King'stroops, and saved thus M. Le Prince and his people, at the combat of theFaubourg Saint-Antoine. Feeling, therefore, that the King, hopelesslyestranged from her, and consenting to give liberty to Lauzun only fromhis passion for elevating and enriching his bastards, would not cease topersecute her until she had consented--despairing of better terms, sheagreed to the gift, with the most bitter tears and complaints. But itwas found that, in order to make valid the renunciation of Lauzun, hemust be set at liberty, so that it was pretended he had need of thewaters of Bourbon, and Madame de Montespan also, in order that they mightconfer together upon this affair. 

Lauzun was taken guarded to Bourbon by a detachment of musketeers, commanded by Maupertuis. Lauzun saw Madame de Montespan at Bourbon; buthe was so indignant at the terms proposed to him as the condition of hisliberty, that after long disputes he would hear nothing more on thesubject, and was reconducted to Pignerol as he had been brought. 

This firmness did not suit the King, intent upon the fortune of his well-beloved bastard. He sent Madame de Nogent to Pignerol; then Borin (afriend of Lauzun, and who was mixed up in all his affairs), with menacesand promises. Borin, with great trouble, obtained the consent of Lauzun, and brought about a second journey to Bourbon for him and Madame deMontespan, with the same pretext of the waters. Lauzun was conductedthere as before, and never pardoned Maupertuis the severe pedantry of hisexactitude. This last journey was made in the autumn of 1680. Lauzunconsented to everything. Madame de Montespan returned triumphant. Maupertuis and his musketeers took leave of Lauzun at Bourbon, whence hehad permission to go and reside at Angers; and immediately after, thisexile was enlarged, so that he had the liberty of all Anjou and Lorraine. The consummation of the affair was deferred until the commencement ofFebruary, 1681, in order to give him a greater air of liberty. ThusLauzun had from Mademoiselle only Saint-Forgeon and Thiers, after havingbeen on the point of marrying her, and of succeeding to all her immensewealth. The Duc du Maine was instructed to make his court toMademoiselle, who always received him very coldly, and who saw him takeher arms, with much vexation, as a mark of his gratitude, in reality forthe Sake of the honour it brought him; for the arms were those of Gaston, which the Comte de Toulouse afterwards took, not for the same reason, butunder pretext of conformity with his brother; and they have handed themdown to their children. 

Lauzun, who had been led to expect much more gentle treatment, remainedfour years in these two provinces, of which he grew as weary as wasMademoiselle at his absence. She cried out in anger against Madame deMontespan and her son; complained loudly that after having been sopitilessly fleeced, Lauzun was still kept removed from her; and made sucha stir that at last she obtained permission for him to return to Paris, with entire liberty; on condition, however, that he did not approachwithin two leagues of any place where the King might be. 

Lauzun came, therefore, to Paris, and assiduously visited hisbenefactors. The weariness of this kind of exile, although so softened, led him into high play, at which he was extremely successful; always agood and sure player, and very straightforward, he gained largely. Monsieur, who sometimes made little visits to Paris, and who played veryhigh, permitted him to join the gambling parties of the Palais Royal, then those of Saint-Cloud. Lauzun passed thus several years, gaining andlending much money very nobly; but the nearer he found himself to theCourt, and to the great world, the more insupportable became to him theprohibition he had received. 

Finally, being no longer able to bear it, he asked the King forpermission to go to England, where high play was much in vogue. Heobtained it, and took with him a good deal of money, which secured him anopen-armed reception in London, where he was not less successful than inParis. 

James II. , then reigning, received Lauzun with distinction. But theRevolution was already brewing. It burst after Lauzun had been inEngland eight or ten months. It seemed made expressly for him, by thesuccess he derived from it, as everybody is aware. James II. , no longerknowing what was to become of him--betrayed by his favourites and hisministers, abandoned by all his nation, the Prince of Orange master ofall hearts, the troops, the navy, and ready to enter London--the unhappymonarch confided to Lauzun what he held most dear--the Queen and thePrince of Wales, whom Lauzun happily conducted to Calais. The Queen atonce despatched a courier to the King, in the midst of the compliments ofwhich she insinuated that by the side of her joy at finding herself andher son in security under his protection, was her grief at not daring tobring with her him to whom she owed her safety. 

The reply of the King, after much generous and gallant sentiment, was, that he shared this obligation with her, and that he hastened to show itto her, by restoring the Comte de Lauzun to favour. 

In effect, when the Queen presented Lauzun to the King, in the Palace ofSaint-Germain (where the King, with all the family and all the Court, came to meet her), he treated him as of old, gave him the privilege ofthe grandes entrees, and promised him a lodging at Versailles, which hereceived immediately after. From that day he always went to Marly, andto Fontainebleau, and, in fact, never after quitted the Court. It may beimagined what was the delight of such an ambitious courtier, socompletely re-established in such a sudden and brilliant manner. He hadalso a lodging in the chateau of Saint-Germain, chosen as the residenceof this fugitive Court, at which King James soon arrived. 

Lauzun, like a skilful courtier, made all possible use of the two Courts, and procured for himself many interviews with the King, in which hereceived minor commissions. Finally, he played his cards so well thatthe King permitted him to receive in Notre Dame, at Paris, the Order ofthe Garter, from the hands of the King of England, accorded to him at hissecond passage into Ireland the rank of lieutenant-general of hisauxiliary army, and permitted at the same time that he should be of thestaff of the King of England, who lost Ireland during the same campaignat the battle of the Boyne. He returned into France with the Comte deLauzun, for whom he obtained letters of the Duke; which were verified atthe Parliament in May, 1692. What a miraculous return of fortune! Butwhat a fortune, in comparison with that of marrying Mademoiselle, withthe donation of all her prodigious wealth, and the title and dignity ofDuke and Peer of Montpensier. What a monstrous pedestal! And withchildren by this marriage, what a flight might not Lauzun have taken, andwho can say where he might have arrived?

CHAPTER CXVIII

I have elsewhere related Lauzun's humours, his notable wanton tricks, andhis rare singularity. 

He enjoyed, during the rest of his long life, intimacy with the King, distinction at the Court, great consideration, extreme abundance, kept upthe state of a great nobleman, with one of the most magnificent houses ofthe Court, and the best table, morning and evening, most honourablyfrequented, and at Paris the same, after the King's death: All this didnot content him. He could only approach the King with outsidefamiliarity; he felt that the mind and the heart of that monarch were ontheir guard against him, and in an estrangement that not all his art norall his application could ever overcome. This is what made him marry mysister-in-law, hoping thus to re-establish himself in serious intercoursewith the King by means of the army that M. Le Marechal de Lorge commandedin Germany; but his project failed, as has been seen. This is what madehim bring about the marriage of the Duc de Lorge with the daughter ofChamillart, in order to reinstate himself by means of that ministry;but without success. This is what made him undertake the journey to Aix-la-Chapelle, under the pretext of the waters, to obtain information whichmight lead to private interviews with the King, respecting the peace;but he was again unsuccessful. All his projects failed; in fact, heunceasingly sorrowed, and believed himself in profound disgrace--evensaying so. He left nothing undone in order to pay his court, at bottomwith meanness, but externally with dignity; and he every year celebrateda sort of anniversary of his disgrace, by extraordinary acts, of whichill-humour and solitude were oftentimes absurdly the fruit. He himselfspoke of it, and used to say that he was not rational at the annualreturn of this epoch, which was stronger than he. He thought he pleasedthe King by this refinement of attention, without perceiving he waslaughed at. 

By nature he was extraordinary in everything, and took pleasure inaffecting to be more so, even at home, and among his valets. Hecounterfeited the deaf and the blind, the better to see and hear withoutexciting suspicion, and diverted himself by laughing at fools, even themost elevated, by holding with them a language which had no sense. Hismanners were measured, reserved, gentle, even respectful; and from hislow and honeyed tongue, came piercing remarks, overwhelming by theirjustice, their force, or their satire, composed of two or three words, perhaps, and sometimes uttered with an air of naivete or of distraction, as though he was not thinking of what he said. Thus he was feared, without exception, by everybody, and with many acquaintances he had fewor no friends, although he merited them by his ardor in seeing everybodyas much as he could, and by his readiness in opening his purse. He likedto gather together foreigners of any distinction, and perfectly did thehonours of the Court. But devouring ambition poisoned his life; yet hewas a very good and useful relative. 

During the summer which followed the death of Louis XIV. There was areview of the King's household troops, led by M. Le Duc d'Orleans, in theplain by the side of the Bois de Boulogne. Passy, where M. De Lauzun hada pretty house, is on the other side. Madame de Lauzun was there withcompany, and I slept there the evening before the review. Madame dePoitiers, a young widow, and one of our relatives, was there too, and wasdying to see the review, like a young person who has seen nothing, butwho dares not show herself in public in the first months of her mourning. 

How she could be taken was discussed in the company, and it was decidedthat Madame de Lauzun could conduct her a little way, buried in hercarriage. In the midst of the gaiety of this party, M. De Lauzun arrivedfrom Paris, where he had gone in the morning. He was told what had justbeen decided. As soon as he learnt it he flew into a fury, was no longermaster of himself, broke off the engagement, almost foaming at the mouth;said the most disagreeable things to his wife in the strongest, theharshest, the most insulting, and the most foolish terms. She gentlywept; Madame de Poitiers sobbed outright, and all the company felt theutmost embarrassment. The evening appeared an age, and the saddestrefectory repast a gay meal by the side of our supper. He was wild inthe midst of the profoundest silence; scarcely a word was said. Hequitted the table, as usual, at the fruit, and went to bed. An attemptwas made to say something afterwards by way of relief, but Madame deLauzun politely and wisely stopped the conversation, and brought outcards in order to turn the subject. 

The next morning I went to M. De Lauzun, in order to tell him in plainlanguage my opinion of the scene of the previous evening. I had not thetime. As soon as he saw me enter he extended his arms, and cried that Isaw a madman, who did not deserve my visit, but an asylum; passed thestrongest eulogies upon his wife (which assuredly she merited), said hewas not worthy of her, and that he ought to kiss the ground upon whichshe walked; overwhelmed himself with blame; then, with tears in his eyes, said he was more worthy of pity than of anger; that he must admit to meall his shame and misery; that he was more than eighty years of age; thathe had neither children nor survivors; that he had been captain of theguards; that though he might be so again, he should be incapable of thefunction; that he unceasingly said this to himself, and that yet with allthis he could not console himself for having been so no longer during themany years since he had lost his post; that he had never been able todraw the dagger from his heart; that everything which recalled the memoryof the past made him beside himself, and that to hear that his wife wasgoing to take Madame de Poitiers to see a review of the body-guards, inwhich he now counted for nothing, had turned his head, and had renderedhim wild to the extent I had seen; that he no longer dared show himselfbefore any one after this evidence of madness; that he was going to lockhimself up in his chamber, and that he threw himself at my feet in orderto conjure me to go and find his wife, and try to induce her to take pityon and pardon a senseless old man, who was dying with grief and shame. This admission, so sincere and so dolorous to make, penetrated me. Isought only to console him and compose him. The reconciliation was notdifficult; we drew him from his chamber, not without trouble, and heevinced during several days as much disinclination to show himself, as Iwas told, for I went away in the evening, my occupations keeping me verybusy. 

I have often reflected, apropos of this, upon the extreme misfortune ofallowing ourselves to be carried away by the intoxication of the world, and into the formidable state of an ambitious man, whom neither richesnor comfort, neither dignity acquired nor age, can satisfy, and who, instead of tranquilly enjoying what he possesses, and appreciating thehappiness of it, exhausts himself in regrets, and in useless andcontinual bitterness. But we die as we have lived, and 'tis rare ithappens otherwise. This madness respecting the captaincy of the guardsso cruelly dominated M. De Lauzun, that he often dressed himself in ablue coat, with silver lace, which, without being exactly the uniform ofthe captain of, the body-guards, resembled it closely, and would haverendered him ridiculous if he had not accustomed people to it, madehimself feared, and risen above all ridicule. 

With all his scheming and cringing he fell foul of everybody, alwayssaying some biting remark with dove-like gentleness. Ministers, generals, fortunate people and their families, were the most ill-treated. He had, as it were, usurped the right of saying and doing what hepleased; nobody daring to be angry with him. The Grammonts alone wereexcepted. He always remembered the hospitality and the protection he hadreceived from them at the outset of his life. He liked them; heinterested himself in them; he was in respect before them. Old ComteGrammont took advantage of this and revenged the Court by the sallies heconstantly made against Lauzun, who never returned them or grew angry, but gently avoided him. He always did a good deal for the children ofhis sisters. 

During the plague the Bishop of Marseilles had much signalised himself bywealth spent and danger incurred. When the plague had completely passedaway, M. De Lauzun asked M. Le Duc d'Orleans for an abbey for the Bishop. The Regent gave away some livings soon after, and forgot M. DeMarseilles. Lauzun pretended to be ignorant of it, and asked M. Le Ducd'Orleans if he had had the goodness to remember him. The Regent wasembarrassed. The Duc de Lauzun, as though to relieve him from hisembarrassment, said, in a gentle and respectful tone, "Monsieur, he willdo better another time, " and with this sarcasm rendered the Regent dumb, and went away smiling. The story got abroad, and M. Le Duc d'Orleansrepaired his forgetfulness by the bishopric of Laon, and upon the refusalof M. De Marseilles to change, gave him a fat abbey. 

M. De Lauzun hindered also a promotion of Marshal of France by theridicule he cast upon the candidates. He said to the Regent, with thatgentle and respectful tone he knew so well how to assume, that in caseany useless Marshals of France (as he said) were made, he begged hisRoyal Highness to remember that he was the oldest lieutenant-general ofthe realm, and that he had had the honour of commanding armies with thepatent of general. I have elsewhere related other of his witty remarks. He could not keep them in; envy and jealousy urged him to utter them, andas his bon-mots always went straight to the point, they were always muchrepeated. 

We were on terms of continual intimacy; he had rendered me real solidfriendly services of himself, and I paid him all sorts of respectfulattentions, and he paid me the same. Nevertheless, I did not alwaysescape his tongue; and on one occasion, he was perhaps within an inch ofdoing me much injury by it. 

The King (Louis XIV. ) was declining; Lauzun felt it, and began to thinkof the future. Few people were in favour with M. Le Duc d'Orleans;nevertheless, it was seen that his grandeur was approaching. All eyeswere upon him, shining with malignity, consequently upon me, who for along time had been the sole courtier who remained publicly attached tohim, the sole in his confidence. M. De Lauzun came to dine at my house, and found us at table. The company he saw apparently displeased him; forhe went away to Torcy, with whom I had no intimacy, and who was also attable, with many people opposed to M. Le Duc d'Orleans, Tallard, amongothers, and Tesse. 

"Monsieur, " said Lauzun to Torcy, with a gentle and timid air, familiarto him, "take pity upon me, I have just tried to dine with M. De Saint-Simon. I found him at table, with company; I took care not to sit downwith them, as I did not wish to be the 'zeste' of the cabal. I have comehere to find one. "

They all burst out laughing. The remark instantly ran over allVersailles. Madame de Maintenon and M. Du Maine at once heard it, andnevertheless no sign was anywhere made. To have been angry would onlyhave been to spread it wider: I took the matter as the scratch of an ill-natured cat, and did not allow Lauzun to perceive that I knew it. 

Two or three years before his death he had an illness which reduced himto extremity. We were all very assiduous, but he would see none of us, except Madame de Saint-Simon, and her but once. Languet, cure of Saint-Sulpice, often went to him, and discoursed most admirably to him. Oneday, when he was there, the Duc de la Force glided into the chamber:M. De Lauzun did not like him at all, and often laughed at him. Hereceived him tolerably well, and continued to talk aloud with the cure. 

Suddenly he turned to the cure, complimented and thanked him, said he hadnothing more valuable to give him than his blessing, drew his arm fromthe bed, pronounced the blessing, and gave it to him. Then turning tothe Duc de la Force, Lauzun said he had always loved and respected him asthe head of his house, and that as such he asked him for his blessing. 

These two men, the cure and the Duc de la Force, were astonished, couldnot utter a word. The sick man redoubled his instances. M. De la Force, recovering himself, found the thing so amusing, that he gave hisblessing; and in fear lest he should explode, left the room, and came tous in the adjoining chamber, bursting with laughter, and scarcely able torelate what had happened to him. 

A moment after, the cure came also, all abroad, but smiling as much aspossible, so as to put a good face on the matter. Lauzun knew that hewas ardent and skilful in drawing money from people for the building of achurch, and had often said he would never fall into his net; he suspectedthat the worthy cure's assiduities had an interested motive, and laughedat him in giving him only his blessing (which he ought to have receivedfrom him), and in perseveringly asking the Duc de la Force for his. Thecure, who saw the point of the joke, was much mortified, but, like asensible man, he was not less frequent in his visits to M. De Lauzunafter this; but the patient cut short his visits, and would notunderstand the language he spoke. 

Another day, while he was still very ill, Biron and his wife made bold toenter his room on tiptoe, and kept behind his curtains, out of sight, asthey thought; but he perceived them by means of the glass on the chimney-piece. Lauzun liked Biron tolerably well, but Madame Biron not at all;she was, nevertheless, his niece, and his principal heiress; he thoughther mercenary, and all her manners insupportable to him. In that he waslike the rest of the world. He was shocked by this unscrupulous entranceinto his chamber, and felt that, impatient for her inheritance, she camein order to make sure of it, if he should die directly. He wished tomake her repent of this, and to divert himself at her expense. Hebegins, therefore; to utter aloud, as though believing himself alone, anejaculatory orison, asking pardon of God for his past life, expressinghimself as though persuaded his death was nigh, and saying that, grievedat his inability to do penance, he wishes at least to make use of all thewealth he possesses, in order to redeem his sins, and bequeath thatwealth to the hospitals without any reserve; says it is the sole road tosalvation left to him by God, after having passed a long life withoutthinking of the future; and thanks God for this sole resource left him, which he adopts with all his heart!

He accompanied this resolution with a tone so touched, so persuaded, sodetermined, that Biron and his wife did not doubt for a moment he wasgoing to execute his design, or that they should be deprived of all thesuccession. They had no desire to spy any more, and went, confounded, tothe Duchesse de Lauzun, to relate to her the cruel decree they had justheard pronounced, conjuring her to try and moderate it. Thereupon thepatient sent for the notaries, and Madame Biron believed herself lost. It was exactly the design of the testator to produce this idea. He madethe notaries wait; then allowed them to enter, and dictated his will, which was a death-blow to Madame de Biron. Nevertheless, he delayedsigning it, and finding himself better and better, did not sign it atall. He was much diverted with this farce, and could not restrain hislaughter at it, when reestablished. Despite his age, and the gravity ofhis illness, he was promptly cured and restored to his usual health. 

He was internally as strong as a lion, though externally very delicate. He dined and supped very heartily every day of an excellent and verydelicate cheer, always with good company, evening and morning; eating ofeverything, 'gras' and 'maigre', with no choice except that of his tasteand no moderation. He took chocolate in the morning, and had always onthe table the fruits in season, and biscuits; at other times beer, cider, lemonade, and other similar drinks iced; and as he passed to and fro, ateand drank at this table every afternoon, exhorting others to do the same. In this way he left table or the fruit, and immediately went to bed. 

I recollect that once, among others, he ate at my house, after hisillness, so much fish, vegetables, and all sorts of things (I having nopower to hinder him), that in the evening we quietly sent to learnwhether he had not felt the effects of them. He was found at tableeating with good appetite. 

His gallantry was long faithful to him. Mademoiselle was jealous of it, and that often controlled him. I have heard Madame de Fontenelles ( avery enviable woman, of much intelligence, very truthful, and of singularvirtue), I have heard her say, that being at Eu with Mademoiselle, M. De Lauzun came there and could not desist from running after thegirls; Mademoiselle knew it, was angry, scratched him, and drove him fromher presence. The Comtesse de Fiesque reconciled them. Mademoiselleappeared at the end of a long gallery; Lauzun was at the other end, andhe traversed the whole length of it on his knees until he reached thefeet of Mademoiselle. These scenes, more or less moving, often tookplace afterwards. Lauzun allowed himself to be beaten, and in his turnsoundly beat Mademoiselle; and this happened several times, until atlast, tired of each other, they quarrelled once for all and never saweach other again; he kept several portraits of her, however, in his houseor upon him, and never spoke of her without much respect. Nobody doubtedthey had been secretly married. At her death he assumed a livery almostblack, with silver lace; this he changed into white with a little blueupon gold, when silver was prohibited upon liveries. 

His temper, naturally scornful and capricious, rendered more so by prisonand solitude, had made him a recluse and dreamer; so that having in hishouse the best of company, he left them to Madame de Lauzun, and withdrewalone all the afternoon, several hours running, almost always withoutbooks, for he read only a few works of fancy--a very few--and withoutsequence; so that he knew nothing except what he had seen, and until thelast was exclusively occupied with the Court and the news of the greatworld. I have a thousand times regretted his radical incapacity to writedown what he had seen and done. It would have been a treasure of themost curious anecdotes, but he had no perseverance, no application. Ihave often tried to draw from him some morsels. Another misfortune. Hebegan to relate; in the recital names occurred of people who had takenpart in what he wished to relate. He instantly quitted the principalobject of the story in order to hang on to one of these persons, andimmediately after to some other person connected with the first, then toa third, in the manner of the romances; he threaded through a dozenhistories at once, which made him lose ground and drove him from one tothe other without ever finishing anything; and with this his words werevery confused, so that it was impossible to learn anything from him orretain anything he said. For the rest, his conversation was alwaysconstrained by caprice or policy; and was amusing only by starts, and bythe malicious witticisms which sprung out of it. A few months after hislast illness, that is to say, when he was more than ninety years of age, he broke in his horses and made a hundred passades at the Bois deBoulogne (before the King, who was going to the Muette), upon a colt hehad just trained, surprising the spectators by his address, his firmness, and his grace. These details about him might go on for ever. 

His last illness came on without warning, almost in a moment, with themost horrible of all ills, a cancer in the mouth. He endured it to thelast with incredible patience and firmness, without complaint, withoutspleen, without the slightest repining; he was insupportable to himself. When he saw his illness somewhat advanced, he withdrew into a littleapartment (which he had hired with this object in the interior of theConvent of the Petits Augustins, into which there was an entrance fromhis house) to die in repose there, inaccessible to Madame de Biron andevery other woman, except his wife, who had permission to go in at allhours, followed by one of her attendants. 

Into this retreat Lauzun gave access only to his nephews and brothers-in-law, and to them as little as possible. He thought only of profiting byhis terrible state, of giving all his time to the pious discourses of hisconfessor and of some of the pious people of the house, and to holyreading; to everything, in fact, which best could prepare him for death. When we saw him, no disorder, nothing lugubrious, no trace of suffering, politeness, tranquillity, conversation but little animated, indifferenceto what was passing in the world, speaking of it little and withdifficulty; little or no morality, still less talk of his state; and thisuniformity, so courageous and so peaceful, was sustained full four monthsuntil the end; but during the last ten or twelve days he would seeneither brothers-in-law nor nephews, and as for his wife, promptlydismissed her. He received all the sacraments very edifyingly, andpreserved his senses to the last moment: The morning of the day duringthe night of which he died, he sent for Biron, said he had done for himall that Madame de Lauzun had wished; that by his testament he gave himall his wealth, except a trifling legacy to the son of his other sister, and some recompenses to his domestics; that all he had done for him sincehis marriage, and what he did in dying, he (Biron) entirely owed toMadame de Lauzun; that he must never forget the gratitude he owed her;that he prohibited him, by the authority of uncle and testator, ever tocause her any trouble or annoyance, or to have any process against her, no matter of what kind. It was Biron himself who told me this the nextday, in the terms I have given. M. De Lauzun said adieu to him in a firmtone, and dismissed him. He prohibited, and reasonably, all ceremony; hewas buried at the Petits Augustins; he had nothing from the King but theancient company of the battle-axes, which was suppressed two days after. A month before his death he had sent for Dillon (charged here with theaffairs of King James, and a very distinguished officer general), to whomhe surrendered his collar of the Order of the Garter, and a George ofonyx, encircled with perfectly beautiful and large diamonds, to be sentback to the Prince. 

I perceive at last, that I have been very prolix upon this man, but theextraordinary singularity of his life, and my close connexion with him, appear to me sufficient excuses for making him known, especially as hedid not sufficiently figure in general affairs to expect much notice inthe histories that will appear. Another sentiment has extended myrecital. I am drawing near a term I fear to reach, because my desirescannot be in harmony with the truth; they are ardent, consequentlygainful, because the other sentiment is terrible, and cannot in any waybe palliated; the terror of arriving there has stopped me--nailed mewhere I was--frozen me. 

It will easily be seen that I speak of the death (and what a death!) ofM. Le Duc d'Orleans; and this frightful recital, especially after such along attachment (it lasted all his life, and will last all mine), penetrates me with terror and with grief for him. The Regent had said, when he died he should like to die suddenly: I shudder to my very marrow, with the horrible suspicion that God, in His anger, granted his desire. 

CHAPTER CXIX

The new chateau of Meudon, completely furnished, had been restored to mesince the return of the Court to Versailles, just as I had had it beforethe Court came to Meudon. The Duc and Duchesse d'Humieres were with usthere, and good company. One morning towards the end of October, 1723, the Duc d'Humieres wished me to conduct him to Versailles, to thank M. LeDuc d'Orleans. 

We found the Regent dressing in the vault he used as his wardrobe. Hewas upon his chair among his valets, and one or two of his principalofficers. His look terrified me. I saw a man with hanging head, apurple-red complexion, and a heavy stupid air. He did not even see meapproach. His people told him. He slowly turned his head towards me, and asked me with a thick tongue what brought me. I told him. I hadintended to pass him to come into the room where he dressed himself, soas not to keep the Duc d'Humieres waiting; but I was so astonished that Istood stock still. 

I took Simiane, first gentleman of his chamber, into a window, andtestified to him my surprise and my fear at the state in which I saw M. Le Duc d'Orleans. 

Simiane replied that for a long time he had been so in the morning; thatto-day there was nothing extraordinary about him, and that I wassurprised simply because I did not see him at those hours; that nothingwould be seen when he had shaken himself a little in dressing. There wasstill, however, much to be seen when he came to dress himself. TheRegent received the thanks of the Duc d'Humieres with an astonished andheavy air; he who always was so gracious and so polite to everybody, andwho so well knew how to express himself, scarcely replied to him! Amoment after, M. D'Humieres and I withdrew. We dined with the Duc deGesvres, who led him to the King to thank his Majesty. 

The condition of M. Le Duc d'Orleans made me make many reflections. Fora very long time the Secretaries of State had told me that during thefirst hours of the morning they could have made him pass anything theywished, or sign what might have been the most hurtful to him. It was thefruit of his suppers. Within the last year he himself had more than oncetold me that Chirac doctored him unceasingly, without effect; because hewas so full that he sat down to table every evening without hunger, without any desire to eat, though he took nothing in the morning, andsimply a cup of chocolate between one and two o'clock in the day (beforeeverybody), it being then the time to see him in public. I had not keptdumb with him thereupon, but all my representations were perfectlyuseless. I knew moreover, that Chirac had continually told him that thehabitual continuance of his suppers would lead him to apoplexy, or dropsyon the chest, because his respiration was interrupted at times; uponwhich he had cried out against this latter malady, which was a slow, suffocating, annoying preparation for death, saying that he preferredapoplexy, which surprised and which killed at once, without allowing timeto think of it!

Another man, instead of crying out against this kind of death with whichhe was menaced, and of preferring another, allowing him no time forreflection, would have thought about leading a sober, healthy, and decentlife, which, with the temperament he had, would have procured him a verylong time, exceeding agreeable in the situation--very probably durable--in which he found himself; but such was the double blindness of thisunhappy prince. 

I was on terms of much intimacy with M. De Frejus, and since, in defaultof M. Le Duc d'Orleans, there must be another master besides the King, until he could take command, I preferred this prelate to any other. Iwent to him, therefore, and told him what I had seen this morning of thestate of M. Le Duc d'Orleans. I predicted that his death must soon come, and that it would arrive suddenly, without warning. I counselled Frejus, therefore, to have all his arrangements ready with the King, in order tofill up the Regent's place of prime minister when it should becomevacant. M. De Frejus appeared very grateful for the advice, but wasmeasured and modest as though he thought the post much above him!

On the 22nd of December, 1723, I went from Meudon to Versailles to seeM. Le Duc d'Orleans; I was three-quarters of an hour with him in hiscabinet, where I had found him alone. We walked to and fro there, talking of affairs of which he was going to give an account to the Kingthat day. I found no difference in him, his state was, as usual, languidand heavy, as it had been for some time, but his judgment was clear asever. I immediately returned to Meudon, and chatted there some time withMadame de Saint-Simon on arriving. On account of the season we hadlittle company. I left Madame de Saint-Simon in her cabinet, and wentinto mine. 

About an hour after, at most, I heard cries and a sudden uproar. I ranout and I found Madame de Saint-Simon quite terrified, bringing to me agroom of the Marquis de Ruffec, who wrote to me from Versailles, thatM. Le Duc d'Orleans was in a apoplectic fit. I was deeply moved, but notsurprised; I had expected it, as I have shown, for a long time. I impatiently waited for my carriage, which was a long while coming, on account of the distance of the new chateau from the stables. I flungmyself inside; and was driven as fast as possible. 

At the park gate I met another courier from M. De Ruffec, who stopped me, and said it was all over. I remained there more than half an hourabsorbed in grief and reflection. At the end I resolved to go toVersailles, and shut myself up in my rooms; I learnt there theparticulars of the event. 

M. Le Duc d'Orleans had everything prepared to go and work with the King. While waiting the hour, he chatted with Madame Falari, one of hismistresses. They were close to each other, both seated in armchairs, when suddenly he fell against her, and never from that moment had theslightest glimmer of consciousness. 

La Falari, frightened as much as may be imagined, cried with all hermight for help, and redoubled her cries. Seeing that nobody replied, shesupported as best she could this poor prince upon the contiguous arms ofthe two chairs, ran into the grand cabinet, into the chamber, into theante-chambers, without finding a soul; finally, into the court and thelower gallery. It was the hour at which M. Le Duc d'Orleans worked withthe King, an hour when people were sure no one would come and see him, and that he had no need of them, because he ascended to the King's roomby the little staircase from his vault, that is to say his wardrobe. Atlast La Falari found somebody, and sent the first who came to hand forhelp. Chance; or rather providence, had arranged this sad event at atime when everybody was ordinarily away upon business or visits, so thata full half-hour elapsed before doctor or surgeon appeared, and about aslong before any domestics of M. Le Duc d'Orleans could be found. 

As soon as the faculty had examined the Regent; they judged his casehopeless. He was hastily extended upon the floor, and bled, but he gavenot the slightest sign of life, do what they might to him. In aninstant, after the first announcement, everybody flocked to the spot; thegreat and the little cabinet were full of people. In less than two hoursall was over, and little by little the solitude became as great as thecrowd had been. As soon as assistance came, La Falari flew away andgained Paris as quickly as possible. 

La Vrilliere was one of the first who learnt of the attack of apoplexy. He instantly ran and informed the King and the Bishop of Frejus. Then M. Le Duc, like a skilful courtier, resolved to make the best of his time;he at once ran home and drew up at all hazards the patent appointing M. Le Duc prime minister, thinking it probable that that prince would benamed. Nor was he deceived. At the first intelligence of apoplexy, Frejus proposed M. Le Duc to the King, having probably made hisarrangements in advance. M. Le Duc arrived soon after, and entered thecabinet where he saw the King, looking very sad, his eyes red andtearful. 

Scarcely had he entered than Frejus said aloud to the King, that in theloss he had sustained by the death of M. Le Duc d'Orleans (whom he verybriefly eulogised), his Majesty could not do better than beg M. Le Duc, there present, to charge himself with everything, and accept the post ofprime minister M. Le Duc d'Orleans had filled. The King, without sayinga word, looked at Frejus, and consented by a sign of the head, and M. LeDuc uttered his thanks. 

La Vrilliere, transported with joy at the prompt policy he had followed, had in his pocket the form of an oath taken by the prime minister, copiedfrom that taken by M. Le Duc d'Orleans, and proposed to Frejus toadminister it immediately. Frejus proposed it to the King as a fittingthing, and M. Le Duc instantly took it. Shortly after, M. Le Duc wentaway; the crowd in the adjoining rooms augmented his suite, and in amoment nothing was talked of but M. Le Duc. 

M. Le Duc de Chartres (the Regent's son), very awkward, but a libertine, was at Paris with an opera dancer he kept. He received the courier whichbrought him the news of the apoplexy, and on the road (to Versailles), another with the news of death. Upon descending from his coach, he foundno crowd, but simply the Duc de Noailles, and De Guiche, who very'apertement' offered him their services, and all they could do for him. He received them as though they were begging-messengers whom he was in ahurry to get rid of, bolted upstairs to his mother, to whom he said hehad just met two men who wished to bamboozle him, but that he had notbeen such a fool as to let them. This remarkable evidence ofintelligence, judgment, and policy, promised at once all that this princehas since performed. It was with much trouble he was made to comprehendthat he had acted with gross stupidity; he continued, nevertheless, toact as before. 

He was not less of a cub in the interview I shortly afterwards had withhim. Feeling it my duty to pay a visit of condolence to Madame laDuchesse d'Orleans, although I had not been on terms of intimacy with herfor a long while, I sent a message to her to learn whether my presencewould be agreeable. I was told that Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans wouldbe very glad to see me. I accordingly immediately went to her. 

I found her in bed, with a few ladies and her chief officers around, andM. Le Duc de Chartres making decorum do double duty for grief. As soonas I approached her she spoke to me of the grievous misfortune--not aword of our private differences. I had stipulated thus. M. Le Duc deChartres went away to his own rooms. Our dragging conversation I put anend to as soon as possible. 

From Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans I went to M. Le Duc de Chartres. Heoccupied the room his father had used before being Regent. They told mehe was engaged. I went again three times during the same morning. Atthe last his valet de chambre was ashamed, and apprised him of my visit, in despite of me. He came across the threshold of the door of hiscabinet, where he had been occupied with some very common people; theywere just the sort of people suited to him. 

I saw a man before me stupefied and dumfounded, not afflicted, but soembarrassed that he knew not where he was. I paid him the strongest, theclearest, the most energetic of compliments, in a loud voice. He tookme, apparently, for some repetition of the Ducs de Guiche and deNoailles, and did not do me the honour to reply one word. 

I waited some moments, and seeing that nothing would come out of themouth of this image, I made my reverence and withdrew, he advancing notone step to conduct me, as he ought to have done, all along hisapartment, but reburying himself in his cabinet. It is true that inretiring I cast my eyes upon the company, right and left, who appeared tome much surprised. I went home very weary of dancing attendance at thechateau. 

The death of M. Le Duc d'Orleans made a great sensation abroad and athome; but foreign countries rendered him incomparably more justice, andregretted him much more, than the French. Although foreigners knew hisfeebleness, and although the English had strangely abused it, theirexperience had not the less persuaded them of the range of his mind, ofthe greatness of his genius and of his views, of his singularpenetration, of the sagacity and address of his policy, of the fertilityof his expedients and of his resources, of the dexterity of his conductunder all changes of circumstances and events, of his clearness inconsidering objects and combining things; of his superiority over hisministers, and over those that various powers sent to him; of theexquisite discernment he displayed in investigating affairs; of hislearned ability in immediately replying to everything when he wished. The majority of our Court did not regret him, however. The life he hadled displeased the Church people; but more still, the treatment they hadreceived from his hands. 

The day after death, the corpse of M. Le Duc d'Orleans was taken fromVersailles to Saint-Cloud, and the next day the ceremonies commenced. His heart was carried from Saint-Cloud to the Val de Grace by theArchbishop of Rouen, chief almoner of the defunct Prince. The burialtook place at Saint-Denis, the funeral procession passing through Paris, with the greatest pomp. The obsequies were delayed until the 12th ofFebruary. M. Le Duc de Chartres became Duc d'Orleans. 

After this event, I carried out a determination I had long resolved on. I appeared before the new masters of the realm as seldom as possible--only, in fact, upon such occasions where it would have been inconsistentwith my position to stop away. My situation at the Court had totallychanged. The loss of the dear Prince, the Duc de Bourgogne, was thefirst blow I had received. The loss of the Regent was the second. Butwhat a wide gulf separated these two men!

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A good friend when a friend at all, which was rareArtagnan, captain of the grey musketeersDeath came to laugh at him for the sweating labour he had takenFrom bad to worse was easyOthers were not allowed to dream as he had livedWe die as we have lived, and 'tis rare it happens otherwise