Book: The Memoirs of Louis XIV., His Court and The Regency, Complete

D >> Duc de Saint Simon >> The Memoirs of Louis XIV., His Court and The Regency, Complete




No evening passed on which there was not a ball. The chancellor's wife
gave one which was a fete the most gallant and the most magnificent
possible. There were different rooms for the fancy-dress ball, for the
masqueraders, for a superb collation, for shops of all countries,
Chinese, Japanese, &c., where many singular and beautiful things were
sold, but no money taken; they were presents for the Duchesse de
Bourgogne and the ladies. Everybody was especially diverted at this
entertainment, which did not finish until eight o'clock in the morning.
Madame de Saint-Simon and I passed the last three weeks of this time
without ever seeing the day. Certain dancers were only allowed to leave
off dancing at the same time as the Duchesse de Bourgogne. One morning,
at Marty, wishing to escape too early, the Duchess caused me to be
forbidden to pass the doors of the salon; several of us had the same
fate. I was delighted when Ash Wednesday arrived; and I remained a day
or two dead beat, and Madame de Saint-Simon could not get over Shrove
Tuesday.

La Bourlie, brother of Guiscard, after having quitted the service, had
retired to his estate near Cevennes, where he led a life of much licence.
About this time a robbery was committed in his house; he suspected one of
the servants, and on his own authority put the man to the torture. This
circumstance could not remain so secret but that complaints spread
abroad. The offence was a capital one. La Bourlie fled from the realm,
and did many strange things until his death, which was still more
strange; but of which it is not yet time to speak.

Madame la Duchesse, whose heavy tradesmen's debts the King had paid not
long since, had not dared to speak of her gambling debts, also very
heavy. They increased, and, entirely unable to pay them, she found
herself in the greatest embarrassment. She feared, above all things,
lest M. le Prince or M. le Duc should hear of this. In this extremity
she addressed herself to Madame de Maintenon, laying bare the state of
her finances, without the slightest disguise. Madame de Maintenon had
pity on her situation, and arranged that the King should pay her debts,
abstain from scolding her, and keep her secret. Thus, in a few weeks,
Madame la Duchesse found herself free of debts, without anybody whom she
feared having known even of their existence.

Langlee was entrusted with the payment and arrangement of these debts.
He was a singular kind of man at the Court, and deserves a word. Born of
obscure parents, who had enriched themselves, he had early been
introduced into the great world, and had devoted himself to play, gaining
an immense fortune; but without being accused of the least unfairness.
With but little or no wit, but much knowledge of the world, he had
succeeded in securing many friends, and in making his way at the Court.
He joined in all the King's parties, at the time of his mistresses.
Similarity of tastes attached Langlee to Monsieur, but he never lost
sight of the King. At all the fetes Langlee was present, he took part in
the journeys, he was invited to Marly, was intimate with all the King's
mistresses; then with all the daughters of the King, with whom indeed he
was so familiar that he often spoke to them with the utmost freedom. He
had become such a master of fashions and of fetes that none of the latter
were given, even by Princes of the blood, except under his directions;
and no houses were bought, built, furnished, or ornamented, without his
taste being consulted. There were no marriages of which the dresses and
the presents were not chosen, or at least approved, by him. He was on
intimate terms with the most distinguished people of the Court; and often
took improper advantage of his position. To the daughters of the King
and to a number of female friends he said horribly filthy things, and
that too in their own houses, at St. Cloud or at Marly. He was often
made a confidant in matters of gallantry, and continued to be made so all
his life. For he was a sure man, had nothing disagreeable about him, was
obliging, always ready to serve others with his purse or his influence,
and was on bad terms with no one.

While everybody, during all this winter, was at balls and amusements,
the beautiful Madame de Soubise--for she was so still--employed herself
with more serious matters. She had just bought, very cheap, the immense
Hotel de Guise, that the King assisted her to pay for. Assisted also by
the King, she took steps to make her bastard son canon of Strasbourg;
intrigued so well that his birth was made to pass muster, although among
Germans there is a great horror of illegitimacy, and he was received into
the chapter. This point gained, she laid her plans for carrying out
another, and a higher one, nothing less than that of making her son
Archbishop of Strasbourg.

But there was an obstacle, in the way. This obstacle was the Abbe
d'Auvergne (nephew of Cardinal de Bouillon), who had the highest position
in the chapter, that of Grand Prevot, had been there much longer than the
Abbe de Soubise, was older, and of more consequence. His reputation,
however, was against him; his habits were publicly known to be those of
the Greeks, whilst his intellect resembled theirs in no way. By his
stupidity he published his bad conduct, his perfect ignorance, his
dissipation, his ambition; and to sustain himself he had only a low,
stinking, continual vanity, which drew upon him as much disdain as did
his habits, alienated him from all the world, and constantly subjected
him to ridicule.

The Abbe de Soubise had, on the contrary, everything smiling in his
favour, even his exterior, which showed that he was born of the tenderest
amours. Upon the farms of the Sorbonne he had much distinguished
himself. He had been made Prior of Sorbonne, and had shone conspicuously
in that position, gaining eulogies of the most flattering kind from
everybody, and highly pleasing the King. After this, he entered the
seminary of Saint Magloire, then much in vogue, and gained the good
graces of the Archbishop of Paris, by whom that seminary was favoured.
On every side the Abbe de Soubise was regarded, either as a marvel of
learning, or a miracle of piety and purity of manners. He had made
himself loved everywhere, and his gentleness, his politeness, his
intelligence, his graces, and his talent for securing friends, confirmed
more and more the reputation he had established.

The Abbe d'Auvergne had a relative, the Cardinal de Furstenberg, who also
had two nephews, canons of Strasbourg, and in a position to become
claimants to the bishopric. Madame de Soubise rightly thought that her
first step must be to gain over the Cardinal to her side. There was a
channel through which this could be done which at once suggested itself
to her mind. Cardinal Furstenberg, it was said, had been much enamoured
of the Comtesse de La Marck, and had married her to one of his nephews,
in order that he might thus see her more easily. It was also said that
he had been well treated, and it is certain that nothing was so striking
as the resemblance, feature for feature, of the Comte de La Marck to
Cardinal de Furstenberg. If the Count was not the son of the Cardinal he
was nothing to him. The attachment of Cardinal Furstenberg for the
Comtesse de La Marck did not abate when she became by her marriage
Comtesse de Furstenberg; indeed he could not exist without her; she lived
and reigned in his house. Her son, the Comte de La Marck, lived there
also, and her dominion over the Cardinal was so public, that whoever had
affairs with him spoke to the Countess, if he wished to succeed. She had
been very beautiful, and at fifty-two years of age, still showed it,
although tall, stout, and coarse featured as a Swiss guard in woman's
clothes. She was, moreover, bold, audacious, talking loudly and always
with authority; was polished, however, and of good manners when she
pleased. Being the most imperious woman in the world, the Cardinal was
fairly tied to her apron-strings, and scarcely dared to breathe in her
presence. In dress and finery she spent like a prodigal, played every
night, and lost large sums, oftentimes staking her jewels and her various
ornaments. She was a woman who loved herself alone, who wished for
everything, and who refused herself nothing, not even, it was said,
certain gallantries which the poor Cardinal was obliged to pay for, as
for everything else. Her extravagance was such, that she was obliged to
pass six or seven months of the year in the country, in order to have
enough to spend in Paris during the remainder of the year.

It was to the Comtesse de Furstenberg, therefore, that Madame de Soubise
addressed herself in order to gain over the support of Cardinal de
Furstenberg, in behalf of her son. Rumour said, and it was never
contradicted, that Madame de Soubise paid much money to the Cardinal
through the Countess, in order to carry this point. It is certain that
in addition to the prodigious pensions the Cardinal drew from the King,
he touched at this time a gratification of forty thousand crowns, that it
was pretended had been long promised him.

Madame de Soubise having thus assured herself of the Countess and the
Cardinal (and they having been privately thanked by the King), she caused
an order to be sent to Cardinal de Bouillon, who was then at Rome,
requesting him to ask the Pope in the name of the King, for a bull
summoning the Chapter of Strasbourg to meet and elect a coadjutor and a
declaration of the eligibility of the Abbe de Soubise.

But here a new obstacle arose in the path of Madame de Soubise. Cardinal
de Bouillon, a man of excessive pride and pretension, who upon reaching
Rome claimed to be addressed as "Most Eminent Highness," and obtaining
this title from nobody except his servants, set himself at loggerheads
with all the city--Cardinal de Bouillon, I say, was himself canon of
Strasbourg, and uncle of the Abbe d'Auvergne. So anxious was the
Cardinal to secure the advancement of the Abbe d'Auvergne, that he had
already made a daring and fraudulent attempt to procure for him a
cardinalship. But the false representations which he made in order to
carry his point, having been seen through, his attempt came to nothing,
and he himself lost all favour with the King for his deceit. He,
however; hoped to make the Abbe d'Auvergne bishop of Strasbourg, and was
overpowered, therefore, when he saw this magnificent prey about to escape
him. The news came upon him like a thunderbolt. It was bad enough to
see his hopes trampled under foot; it was insupportable to be obliged to
aid in crushing them. Vexation so transported and blinded him, that he
forgot the relative positions of himself and of Madame de Soubise, and
imagined that he should be able to make the King break a resolution he
had taken, and an engagement he had entered into. He sent therefore, as
though he had been a great man, a letter to the King, telling him that he
had not thought sufficiently upon this matter, and raising scruples
against it. At the same time he despatched a letter to the canons of
Strasbourg, full of gall and compliments, trying to persuade them that
the Abbe de Soubise was too young for the honour intended him, and
plainly intimating that the Cardinal de Furstenberg had been gained over
by a heavy bribe paid to the Comtesse de Furstenberg. These letters.
made a terrible uproar.

I was at the palace on Tuesday, March 30th, and after supper I saw Madame
de Soubise arrive, leading the Comtesse de Furstenberg, both of whom
posted themselves at the door of the King's cabinet. It was not that
Madame de Soubise had not the privilege of entering if she pleased, but
she preferred making her complaint as public as the charges made against
her by Cardinal de Bouillon had become. I approached in order to witness
the scene. Madame de Soubise appeared scarcely able to contain herself,
and the Countess seemed furious. As the King passed, they stopped him.
Madame de Soubise said two words in a low tone. The Countess in a louder
strain demanded justice against the Cardinal de Bouillon, who, she said,
not content in his pride and ambition with disregarding the orders of the
King, had calumniated her and Cardinal de Furstenberg in the most
atrocious manner, and had not even spared Madame de Soubise herself. The
King replied to her with much politeness, assured her she should be
contented, and passed on.

Madame de Soubise was so much the more piqued because Cardinal de
Bouillon had acquainted the King with the simony she had committed,
and assuredly if he had not been ignorant of this he would never have
supported her in the affair. She hastened therefore to secure the
success of her son, and was so well served by the whispered authority of
the King, and the money she had spent, that the Abbe de Soubise was
elected by unanimity Coadjutor of Strasbourg.

As for the Cardinal de Bouillon, foiled in all his attempts to prevent
the election, he wrote a second letter to the King, more foolish than the
first. This filled the cup to overflowing. For reply, he received
orders, by a courier, to quit Rome immediately and to retire to Cluni or
to Tournus, at his choice, until further orders. This order appeared so
cruel to him that he could not make up his mind to obey. He was
underdoyen of the sacred college. Cibo, the doyen, was no longer able to
leave his bed. To become doyen, it was necessary to be in Rome when the
appointment became vacant. Cardinal de Bouillon wrote therefore to the
King, begging to be allowed to stay a short time, in order to pray the
Pope to set aside this rule, and give him permission to succeed to the
doyenship, even although absent from Rome when it became vacant. He knew
he should not obtain this permission, but he asked for it in order to
gain time, hoping that in the meanwhile Cardinal Cibo might die, or even
the Pope himself, whose health had been threatened with ruin for some
time. This request of the Cardinal de Bouillon was refused. There
seemed nothing for him but to comply with the orders he had received.
But he had evaded them so long that he thought he might continue to do
so. He wrote to Pere la Chaise, begging him to ask the King for
permission to remain at Rome until the death of Cardinal Cibo, adding
that he would wait for a reply at Caprarole, a magnificent house of the
Duke of Parma, at eight leagues from Rome. He addressed himself to Pere
la Chaise, because M. de Torcy, to whom he had previously written, had
been forbidden to open his letters, and had sent him word to that effect.
Having, too, been always on the best of terms with the Jesuits, he hoped
for good assistance from Pere la Chaise. But he found this door closed
like that of M. de Torcy. Pere la Chaise wrote to Cardinal de Bouillon
that he too was prohibited from opening his letters. At the same time a
new order was sent to the Cardinal to set out immediately. Just after he
had read it Cardinal Cibo died, and the Cardinal de Bouillon hastened at
once to Rome to secure the doyenship, writing to the King to say that he
had done so, that he would depart in twenty-four hours, and expressing a
hope that this delay would not be refused him. This was laughing at the
King and his orders, and becoming doyen in spite of him. The King,
therefore, displayed his anger immediately he learnt this last act of
disobedience. He sent word immediately to M. de Monaco to command the
Cardinal de Bouillon to surrender his charge of grand chaplain, to give
up his cordon bleu, and to take down the arms of France from the door of
his palace; M. de Monaco was also ordered to prohibit all French people
in Rome from seeing Cardinal de Bouillon, or from having any
communication with him. M. de Monaco, who hated the Cardinal, hastened
willingly to obey these instructions. The Cardinal appeared overwhelmed,
but he did not even then give in. He pretended that his charge of grand
chaplain was a crown office, of which he could not be dispossessed,
without resigning. The King, out of all patience with a disobedience so
stubborn and so marked, ordered, by a decree in council, on the 12th
September, the seizure of all the Cardinal's estates, laical and
ecclesiastical, the latter to be confiscated to the state, the former to
be divided into three portions, and applied to various uses. The same
day the charge of grand chaplain was given to Cardinal Coislin, and that
of chief chaplain to the Bishop of Metz. The despair of the Cardinal
de Bouillon, on hearing of this decree, was extreme. Pride had hitherto
hindered him from believing that matters would be pushed so far against
him. He sent in his resignation only when it was no longer needed of
him. His order he would not give up. M. de Monaco warned him that,
in case of refusal, he had orders to snatch it from his neck. Upon this
the Cardinal saw the folly of holding out against the orders of the King.
He quitted then the marks of the order, but he was pitiful enough to wear
a narrow blue ribbon, with a cross of gold attached, under his cassock,
and tried from time to time to show a little of the blue. A short time
afterwards, to make the best of a bad bargain, he tried to persuade
himself and others, that no cardinal was at liberty to wear the orders of
any prince. But it was rather late in the day to think of this, after
having worn the order of the King for thirty years, as grand chaplain;
and everybody thought so, and laughed at the idea.




CHAPTER XVII

Chateauneuf, Secretary of State, died about this time. He had asked that
his son, La Vrilliere, might be allowed to succeed him, and was much
vexed that the King refused this favour. The news of Chateauneuf's death
was brought to La Vrilliere by a courier, at five o'clock in the morning.
He did not lose his wits at the news, but at once sent and woke up the
Princesse d'Harcourt, and begged her to come and see him instantly.
Opening his purse, he prayed her to go and see Madame de Maintenon as
soon as she got up, and propose his marriage with Mademoiselle de Mailly,
whom he would take without dowry, if the King gave him his father's
appointments. The Princesse d'Harcourt, whose habit it was to accept any
sum, from a crown upwards, willingly undertook this strange business.
She went upon her errand immediately, and then repaired to Madame de
Mailly, who without property, and burdened with a troop of children--sons
and daughters, was in no way averse to the marriage.

The King, upon getting up, was duly made acquainted with La Vrilliere's
proposal, and at once agreed to it. There was only one person opposed to
the marriage, and that was Mademoiselle de Mailly. She was not quite
twelve years of age. She burst out a-crying, and declared she was very
unhappy, that she would not mind marrying a poor man, if necessary,
provided he was a gentleman, but that to marry a paltry bourgeois, in
order to make his fortune, was odious to her. She was furious against
her mother and against Madame de Maintenon. She could not be kept quiet
or appeased, or hindered from making grimaces at La Vrilliere and all his
family, who came to see her and her mother.

They felt it; but the bargain was made, and was too good to be broken.
They thought Mademoiselle de Mailly's annoyance would pass with her
youth--but they were mistaken. Mademoiselle de Mailly always was sore at
having been made Madame de la Vrilliere, and people often observed it.

At the marriage of Monseigneur the Duc de Bourgogne, the King had offered
to augment considerably his monthly income. The young Prince, who found
it sufficient, replied with thanks, and said that if money failed him at
any time he would take the liberty, of asking the King for more. Finding
himself short just now, he was as good as his word. The King praised him
highly, and told him to ask whenever he wanted money, not through a third
person, but direct, as he had done in this instance. The King, moreover,
told the Duc de Bourgogne to play without fear, for it was of no
consequence how much such persons as he might lose. The King was pleased
with confidence, but liked not less to see himself feared; and when timid
people who spoke to him discovered themselves, and grew embarrassed in
their discourse, nothing better made their court, or advanced their
interests.

The Archbishop of Rheims presided this year over the assembly of the
clergy, which was held every five years. It took place on this occasion
at Saint Germains, although the King of England occupied the chateau. M.
de Rheims kept open table there, and had some champagne that was much
vaunted. The King of England, who drank scarcely any other wine, heard
of this and asked for some. The Archbishop sent him six bottles. Some
time after, the King of England, who had much relished the wine, sent and
asked for more. The Archbishop, more sparing of his wine than of his
money, bluntly sent word that his wine was not mad, and did not run
through the streets; and sent none. However accustomed people might be
to the rudeness of the Archbishop, this appeared so strange that it was
much spoken of: but that was all.

M. de Vendome took another public leave of the King, the Princes, and the
Princesses, in order to place himself again under the doctor's hands.
He perceived at last that he was not cured, and that it would be long
before he was; so went to Anet to try and recover his health, but without
success better than before. He brought back a face upon which his state
was still more plainly printed than at first. Madame d'Uzes, only
daughter of the Prince de Monaco, died of this disease. She was a woman
of merit--very virtuous and unhappy--who merited a better fate.
M. d'Uzes was an obscure man, who frequented the lowest society, and
suffered less from its effects than his wife, who was much pitied and
regretted. Her children perished of the same disease, and she left none
behind her.--[Syphilis. D.W.]

Soon after this the King ordered the Comtes d'Uzes and d'Albert to go to
the Conciergerie for having fought a duel against the Comtes de Rontzau,
a Dane, and Schwartzenberg, an Austrian. Uzes gave himself up, but the
Comte d'Albert did not do so for a long Time, and was broken for his
disobedience. He had been on more than good terms with Madame de
Luxembourg--the Comte de Rontzau also: hence the quarrel; the cause of
which was known by everybody, and made a great stir. Everybody knew it,
at least, except M. de Luxembourg, and said nothing, but was glad of it;
and yet in every direction he asked the reason; but, as may be imagined,
could find nobody to tell him, so that he went over and over again to M.
le Prince de Conti, his most intimate friend, praying him for information
upon the subject. M. de Conti related to me that on one occasion, coming
from Meudon, he was so solicited by M. de Luxembourg on this account,
that he was completely embarrassed, and never suffered to such an extent
in all his life. He contrived to put off M. de Luxembourg, and said
nothing, but was glad indeed to get away from him at the end of the
journey.

Le Notre died about this time, after having been eighty-eight years in
perfect health, and with all his faculties and good taste to the very
last. He was illustrious, as having been the first designer of those
beautiful gardens which adorn France, and which, indeed, have so
surpassed the gardens of Italy, that the most famous masters of that
country come here to admire and learn. Le Notre had a probity, an
exactitude, and an uprightness which made him esteemed and loved by
everybody. He never forgot his position, and was always perfectly
disinterested. He worked for private people as for the King, and with
the same application--seeking only to aid nature, and to attain the
beautiful by the shortest road. He was of a charming simplicity and
truthfulness. The Pope, upon one occasion, begged the King to lend him
Le Notre for some months. On entering the Pope's chamber, instead of
going down upon his knees, Le Notre ran to the Holy Father, clasped him
round the neck, kissed him on the two cheeks, and said--"Good morning,
Reverend Father; how well you look, and how glad I am to see you in such
good health."

The Pope, who was Clement X., Altieri, burst out laughing with all his
might. He was delighted with this odd salutation, and showed his
friendship towards the gardener in a thousand ways. Upon Le Notre's
return, the King led him into the gardens of Versailles, and showed him
what had been done in his absence. About the Colonnade he said nothing.
The King pressed him to give his opinion thereupon.

"Why, sire," said Le Notre, "what can I say? Of a mason you have made a
gardener, and he has given you a sample of his trade."

The King kept silence and everybody laughed; and it was true that this
morsel of architecture, which was anything but a fountain, and yet which
was intended to be one, was much out of place in a garden. A month
before Le Notre's death, the King, who liked to see him and to make him
talk, led him into the gardens, and on account of his great age, placed
him in a wheeled chair, by the side of his own. Upon this Le Notre said,
"Ah, my poor father, if you were living and could see a simple gardener
like me, your son, wheeled along in a chair by the side of the greatest
King in the world, nothing would be wanting to my joy!"

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