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




Soon after, M. le Duc d'Orleans went aside with Mademoiselle, and I found
myself placed accidentally near Madame de Fontaine-Martel. She was a
great friend of mine, and much attached to M. d'Orleans; and it was by
her means that I had become friendly with the Duke. She felt at once
that something was going on; and did not doubt that the marriage of
Mademoiselle was on the carpet. She said so, but I did not answer, yet
without assuming an air of reserve that would have convinced her. Taking
her text from the presence of M. le Duc d'Orleans with Mademoiselle, she
said to me confidentially, that it would be well to hasten this marriage
if it was possible, because all sorts of horrible things were invented to
prevent it; and without waiting to be too much pressed, she told me that
the most abominable stories were in circulation as to the friendship of
father and daughter. The hair of my head stood on end. I now felt more
heavily than ever with what demons we had to do; and how necessary it was
to hurry on matters. For this reason, after we had walked about a good
deal after dark, I again spoke with M. d'Orleans, and told him that if,
before the end of this voyage to Marly, he did not carry the declaration
of his daughter's marriage, it would never take place.

I persuaded him; and left him more animated and encouraged than I had
seen him. He amused himself I know not in what other part of the house.
I then talked a little with Madame de Mare, my relation and friend, until
I was told that Madame de Fontaine-Martel wished to speak to me in the
chateau. When I went there I was taken to the cabinet of the Duchesse
d'Orleans, when I learnt that she had just been made acquainted with the
abominable reports spread against her husband and daughter. We deplored
together the misfortune of having to do with such furies. The Duchess
protested that there was not even any seeming in favour of these
calumnies. The Duke had ever tenderly loved his daughter from the age of
two years, when he was nearly driven to despair by a serious illness she
had, during which he watched her night and day; and this tenderness had
gone on increasing day by day, so that he loved her more than his son.
We agreed that it would be cruel, wicked, and dangerous to tell M.
d'Orleans what was said.

At length the decisive blow was struck. The King had an interview with
Monseigneur; and told him he had determined on the marriage, begging him
to make up his mind as soon as possible. The declaration was soon made.
What must have been the state of Madame la Duchesse! I never knew what
took place in her house at this strange moment; and would have dearly
paid for a hiding-place behind the tapestry. As for Monseigneur, as soon
as his original repugnance was overcome, and he saw that it was necessary
to comply, he behaved very well. He received the Duc and Duchesse
d'Orleans very well, and kissed her and drank their health and that of
all the family cheerfully. They were extremely delighted and surprised.

My next visit to Saint-Cloud was very different from that in which I
reported the failure of my endeavours with Mademoiselle Choin. I was
received in triumph before a large company. To my surprise,
Mademoiselle, as soon as I appeared, ran towards me, kissed me on both
cheeks, took me by the hand, and led me into the orangery. Then she
thanked me, and admitted that her father had constantly kept her
acquainted with all the negotiations as they went on. I could not help
blaming his easiness and imprudence. She mingled all with testimonies of
the most lively joy; and I was surprised by her grace, her eloquence, the
dignity and the propriety of the terms she used. I learned an immense
number of things in this half-hour's conversation. Afterwards
Mademoiselle took the opportunity to say and do all manner of graceful
things to Madame de Saint-Simon.

The Duchesse d'Orleans now returned once more to the charge, in order to
persuade my wife to be dame d'honneur to her daughter. I refused as
firmly as I could. But soon after the King himself named Madame de
Saint-Simon; and when the Duchesse de Bourgogne suggested a doubt of her
acceptance, exclaimed, almost piqued: "Refuse! O, no! not when she
learns that it is my desire." In fact, I soon received so many menacing
warnings that I was obliged to give in; and Madame de Saint-Simon
received the appointment. This was made publicly known by the King, who
up to that very morning remained doubtful whether he would be met by a
refusal or not; and who, as he was about to speak, looked at me with a
smile that was meant to please and warn me to be silent. Madame de
Saint-Simon learned the news with tears. She was excellently well
received by the King, and complimented agreeably by Madame de Maintenon.

The marriage took place with the usual ceremonies. The Duc de
Beauvilliers and Madame de Saint-Simon drew the curtains of the couple
when they went to bed; and laughed together at being thus employed. The
King, who had given a very mediocre present of diamonds to the new
Duchesse de Berry, gave nothing to the Duc de Berry. The latter had so
little money that he could not play during the first days of the voyage
to Marly. The Duchesse de Bourgogne told this to the King, who, feeling
the state in which he himself was, said that he had only five hundred
pistoles to give him. He gave them with an excuse on the misfortunes of
the time, because the Duchesse de Bourgogne thought with reason that a
little was better than nothing, and that it was insufferable not to be
able to play.

Madame de Mare was now set at liberty. The place of Dame d'Atours was
offered to her; but she advanced many reasons for not accepting it, and
on being pressed, refused with an obstinacy that surprised every one.
We were not long in finding out the cause of her obstinate unwillingness
to remain with Madame la Duchesse de Berry. The more that Princess
allowed people to see what she was--and she never concealed herself--the
more we saw that Madame de Mare was in the right; and the more we admired
the miracle of care and prudence which had prevented anything from coming
to light; and the more we felt how blindly people act in what they desire
with the most eagerness, and achieve with much trouble and much joy; and
the more we deplored having succeeded in an affair which, so far from
having undertaken and carried out as I did, I should have traversed with
still greater zeal, even if Mademoiselle de Bourbon had profited thereby
without knowing it, if I had known half a quarter--what do I say? the
thousandth part--of what we unhappily witnessed! I shall say no more for
the present; and as I go on, I shall only say what cannot be concealed;
and I say thus much so soon merely because the strange things that soon
happened began to develop themselves a little during this first voyage to
Marly.




CHAPTER LII

On Saturday, the 15th of February, the King was waked up at seven o'clock
in the morning, an hour earlier than usual, because Madame la Duchesse de
Bourgogne was in the pains of labour. He dressed himself diligently in
order to go to her. She did not keep him waiting long. At three minutes
and three seconds after eight o'clock, she brought into the world a Duc
d'Anjou, who is the King Louis XV., at present reigning, which caused a
great joy. This Prince was soon after sprinkled by Cardinal de Janson in
the chamber where he was born, and then carried upon the knees of the
Duchesse de Ventadour in the sedan chair of the King into the King's
apartments, accompanied by the Marechal de Boufflers and by the body-
guards with officers. A little while after La Villiere carried to him
the cordon bleu, and all the Court went to see him, two things which much
displeased his brother, who did not scruple to show it. Madame de Saint-
Simon, who was in the chamber of Madame la Dauphine, was by chance one of
the first who saw this new-born Prince. The accouchement passed over
very well.

About this time died the Marechale de la Meilleraye, aged eighty-eight
years. She was the paternal aunt of the Marechal de Villeroy and the Duc
de Brissac, his brother-in-law. It was she who unwittingly put the cap
on MM. de Brissac, which they have ever since worn in their arms, and
which has been imitated. She was walking in a picture gallery of her
ancestors one day with her niece, a lively, merry person, whom she
obliged to salute and be polite to each portrait, and who in pleasant
revenge persuaded her that one of the said portraits wore a cap which
proved him to be an Italian Prince. She swallowed this, and had the cap
introduced into her, arms, despite her family, who are now obliged to
keep it, but who always call it, "My Aunt's cap." On another occasion,
people were speaking in her presence of the death of the Chevalier de
Savoie, brother of the Comte de Soissons, and of the famous Prince
Eugene, who died very young, very suddenly, very debauched; and full of
benefices. The talk became religious. She listened some time, and then,
with a profound look of conviction, said: "For my part, I am persuaded
that God will think twice about damning a man of such high birth as
that!" This caused a burst of laughter, but nothing could make her
change her opinion. Her vanity was cruelly punished. She used to affect
to apologise for having married the Marechal de la Meilleraye. After his
death, being in love with Saint-Ruth, her page, she married him; but took
care not to disclose her marriage for fear of losing her distinction at
Court. Saint-Ruth was a very honourable gentleman, very poor, tall, and
well made, whom everybody knew; extremely ugly--I don't know whether he
became so after his marriage. He was a worthy man and a good soldier.
But he was also a rough customer, and when his distinguished wife annoyed
him he twirled his cudgel and belaboured her soundly. This went so far
that the Marechale, not being able to stand it any longer, demanded an
audience of the King, admitted her weakness and her shame, and implored
his protection. The King kindly promised to set matters to rights. He
soundly rated Saint-Ruth in his cabinet, and forbade him to ill-treat the
Marechale. But what is bred in the bone will never get out of the flesh.
The Marechale came to make fresh complaints. The King grew angry in
earnest, and threatened Saint-Ruth. This kept him quiet for some time.
But the habit of the stick was too powerful; and he flourished it again.
The Marechale flew as usual to the King, who, seeing that Saint-Ruth was
incorrigible, was good enough to send him to Guyenne under pretence, of
employment. Afterwards he was sent to Ireland; where he was killed.

The Marechale de la Meilleraye had been perfectly beautiful, and was full
of wit. She so turned the head of the Cardinal de Retz, that he wanted
to turn everything topsy-turvy in France, in order to make himself, a
necessary man and force the King to use his influence at Rome in order to
obtain a dispensation by which he (the Cardinal) should be allowed,
though a priest--and a consecrated bishop, to marry the Marechale de la
Meilleraye while her husband was alive and she on very good terms with
him! This madness is inconceivable and yet existed.

I have described in its place the disgrace of Cardinal de Bouillon, and
the banishment to which he was sentenced. Exile did not improve him.
He languished in weariness and rage, and saw no hope that his position
would ever change. Incapable of repose, he had passed all his long
enforced leisure in a monastic war. The monks of Cluni were his
antagonists. He was constantly bringing actions against them, which they
as constantly defended. He accused them of revolt--they accused him of
scheming. They profited by his disgrace, and omitted nothing to shake
off the yoke which, when in favour, he had imposed on them. These broils
went on, until at last a suit, which Cardinal de Bouillon had commenced
against the refractory monks, and which had been carried into Grand
Council of Paris, was decided against him, notwithstanding all the
efforts he made to obtain a contrary verdict. This was the last drop
which made the too full cup overflow, and which consummated the
resolution that Cardinal had long since had in his head, and which he now
executed.

By the terms of his exile, he was allowed to visit, without restraint,
his various abbeys, situated in different parts of the realm. He took
advantage of this privilege, gave out that he was going to Normandy, but
instead of doing so, posted away to Picardy, stopped briefly at
Abbeville, gained Arras, where he had the Abbey of Saint-Waast, thence
feigning to go and see his abbey of Vigogne, he passed over into the camp
of the enemy, and threw himself into the arms of the Duke of Marlborough
and Prince Eugene. The Prince d'Auvergne, his nephew, had deserted from
France in a similar manner some time before, as I have related in its
place, and was in waiting to receive the Cardinal, who was also very
graciously welcomed by Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough, who
introduced him to the heads of the army, and lavished upon him the
greatest honours.

Such a change of condition appeared very sweet to this spirit so haughty
and so ulcerated, and marvellously inflated the Cardinal's courage. He
recompensed his dear hosts by discourses, which were the most agreeable
to them, upon the misery of France (which his frequent journeys through
the provinces had placed before his eyes), upon its powerlessness to
sustain the war; upon the discontent which reigned among the people; upon
the exhaustion of the finances; in fine, he spared nothing that perfidy
or ingratitude could suggest to flatter them and gain their favour.

No sooner had the Cardinal had time to turn round among his new friends
than he wrote a letter to the King announcing his flight--a letter which
was such a monstrous production of insolence, of madness, of felony, and
which was written in a style so extravagant and confused that it deserves
to be thus specially alluded to. In this letter, as full of absurdities,
impudence, and of madness, as of words, the Cardinal, while pretending
much devotion for the King, and much submission to the Church, plainly
intimated that he cared for neither. Although this was as the sting of a
gnat upon an elephant, the King was horribly piqued at it. He received
the letter on the 24th of May, gave it the next day to D'Aguesseau,
attorney-general, and ordered him to commence a suit against Cardinal de
Bouillon, as guilty of felony. At the same time the King wrote to Rome,
enclosing a copy of Bouillon's letter, so that it might be laid before
the Pope. This letter received little approbation. People considered
that the King had forgotten his dignity in writing it, it seemed so much
like a justification and so little worthy, of a great monarch. As for
the Cardinal de Bouillon, he grew more haughty than ever. He wrote a
letter upon the subject of this trial with which he was threatened, even
more violent than his previous letter, and proclaimed that cardinals were
not in any way amenable to secular justice, and could not be judged
except by the Pope and all the sacred college.

So in fact it seemed to, be; for although the Parliament commenced the
trial, and issued an order of arrest against the Cardinal, they soon
found themselves stopped by difficulties which arose, and by this
immunity of the cardinals, which was supported by many examples. After
all the fuss made, therefore, this cause fell by its own weakness, and
exhaled itself, so to speak, in insensible perspiration. A fine lesson
this for the most powerful princes, and calculated to teach them that if
they want to be served by Rome they should favour those that are there,
instead of raising their own subjects, who, out of Rome, can be of no
service to the State; and who are good only to seize three or four
hundred thousand livres a year in benefices, with the quarter of which an
Italian would be more than recompensed. A French cardinal in France is
the friend of the Pope, but the enemy of the King, the Church, and the
State; a tyrant very often to the clergy and the ministers, at liberty to
do what he likes without ever being punished for anything.

As nothing could be done in this way against the Cardinal, other steps
were taken. The fraudulent "Genealogical History of the House of
Auvergne," which I have previously alluded to, was suppressed by royal
edict, and orders given that all the copies of it should be seized.
Baluze, who had written it, was deprived of his chair of Professor of the
Royal College, and driven out of the realm. A large quantity of copies
of this edict were printed and publicly distributed. The little
patrimony that Cardinal de Bouillon had not been able to carry away, was
immediately confiscated: the temporality of his benefices had been
already seized, and on the 7th of July appeared a declaration from the
King, which, depriving the Cardinal of all his advowsons, distributed
them to the bishops of the dioceses in which those advowsons were
situated.

These blows were very sensibly felt by the other Bouillons, but it was no
time for complaint. The Cardinal himself became more enraged than ever.
Even up to this time he had kept so little within bounds that he had
pontifically officiated in the church of Tournai at the Te Deum for the
taking of Douai (by the enemies); and from that town (Tournai), where he
had fixed his residence, he wrote a long letter to M. de Beauvais,--
bishop of the place, when it yielded, and who would not sing the Te Deum,
exhorting him to return to Tournai and submit to the new rule. Some time
after this, that is to say, towards the end of the year, he was guilty of
even greater presumption. The Abbey of Saint-Arnaud, in Flanders, had
just been given by the King to Cardinal La Tremoille, who had been
confirmed in his possession by bulls from the Pope. Since then the abbey
had fallen into the power of the enemy. Upon this, Cardinal de Bouillon
caused himself to be elected Abbot by a minority of the monks and in
spite of the opposition of the others. It was curious to see this
dutiful son of Rome, who had declared in his letter to the King, that he
thought of nothing except the dignity of the King, and how he could best.
serve God and the Church, thus elect him self in spite of the bull of the
Pope, in spite of the orders of the King, and enjoy by force the revenues
of the abbey, protected solely by heretics!

But I have in the above recital alluded to the taking of Douai: this
reminds me that I have got to speak of our military movements, our
losses, and our victories, of this year. In Flanders and in Spain they
were of some importance, and had better, perhaps, have a chapter or more
to themselves.




CHAPTER LIII

The King, who had made numberless promotions, appointed this year the
same generals to the same armies. Villars was chosen for Flanders, as
before. Having, arrived at the very summit of favour, he thought he
might venture, for the first time in his life, to bring a few truths
before the King. He did nothing then but represent to the ministers,
nay, even to the King and Madame de Maintenon themselves, the wretched
state of our magazines and our garrisons; the utter absence of all
provision for the campaign, and the piteous condition of the troops and
their officers, without money and without pay. This was new language in
the mouth of Villars, who hitherto had owed all his success to the
smiling, rose-tinted account he had given of everything. It was the
frequency and the hardihood of his falsehoods in this respect that made
the King and Madame de Maintenon look upon him as their sole resource;
for he never said anything disagreeable, and never found difficulties
anywhere. Now that he had raised this fatal curtain, the aspect appeared
so hideous to them, that they found it easier to fly into a rage than to
reply. From that moment they began to regard Villars with other eyes.
Finding that he spoke now the language which everybody spoke, they began
to look upon him as the world had always looked upon him, to find him
ridiculous, silly, impudent, lying, insupportable; to reproach themselves
with having elevated him from nothing, so rapidly and so enormously; they
began to shun him, to put him aside, to make him perceive what they
thought, and to let others perceive it also.

Villars in his turn was frightened. He saw the prospect of losing what
he had gained, and of sinking into hopeless disgrace. With the
effrontery that was natural to him, he returned therefore to his usual
flatteries, artifices, and deceits; laughed at all dangers and
inconveniences, as having resources in himself against everything!
The coarseness of this variation was as plain as possible; but the
difficulty of choosing another general was equally plain, and Villars
thus got out of the quagmire. He set forth for the frontier, therefore,
in his coach, and travelling easy stages, on account of his wound,
arrived in due time at the army.

Neither Prince Eugene nor the Duke of Marlborough wished for peace; their
object was, the first, from personal vengeance against the King, and a
desire to obtain a still greater reputation; the second, to get rich, for
ambition was the prominent passion of one, and avarice of the other--
their object was, I say, to enter France, and, profiting by the extreme
weakness and straitened state of our troops and of our places, to push
their conquests as far as possible.

As for the King, stung by his continual losses, he wished passionately
for nothing so much as a victory, which should disturb the plans of the
enemies, and deliver him from the necessity of continuing the sad and
shameful negotiations for peace he had set an foot at Gertruydemberg.
But the enemies were well posted, end Villars had imprudently lost a good
opportunity of engaging them. All the army had noticed this fault; he
had been warned in time by several general officers, and by the Marechal
de Montesquiou, but he would not believe them. He did not dare to attack
the enemies, now, after having left them leisure to make all their
dispositions. The army cried aloud against so capital a fault. Villars
answered with his usual effrontery. He had quarrelled with his second in
command, the Marechal de Montesquiou, and now knew not what to do.

In this crisis, no engagement taking place, the King thought it fitting
to send Berwick into Flanders to act as mediator, even, to some extent,
as dictator to the army. He was ordered to bring back an account of all
things, so that it might be seen whether a battle could or could not be
fought.

I think I have already stated who Berwick was; but I will here add a few
more words about him to signalise his prodigious and rapid advancement.

We were in the golden age of bastards, and Berwick was a man who had
reason to think so. Bastard of James II., of England, he had arrived in
France, at the age of eighteen, with that monarch, after the Revolution
of 1688. At twenty-two he was made lieutenant-general, and served as
such in Flanders, without having passed through any other rank. At
thirty-three he commanded in chief in Spain with a patent of general.
At thirty-four he was made, on account of his victory at Almanza, Grandee
of Spain, and Chevalier of the Golden Fleece. He continued to command in
chief until February, 1706, when he was made Marshal of France, being
then not more than thirty-six years old. He was an English Duke, and
although as such he had no rank in France, the King had awarded it to
him, as to all who came over with James. This was making a rapid fortune
with a vengeance, under a King who regarded people of thirty-odd as
children, but who thought no more of the ages of bastards than of those
of the gods.

For more than a year past Berwick had coveted to be made Duke and Peer;
But he could not obtain his wish. Now, however, that he was to be sent
into Flanders for the purpose I have just described, it seemed a good
opportunity to try again. He did try, and was successful. He was made
Duke and Peer. He had been twice married. By his first wife he had had
a son. By his second several sons and daughters. Will it be believed,
that he was hardy enough to propose, and that we were weak enough to
accord to him, that his son of the first bed should be formally excluded
from the letters-patent of Duke and Peer, and that those of the second
bed should alone be entered there? Yet so it was. Berwick was, in
respect to England, like the Jews, who await the Messiah. He coaxed
himself always with the hope of a revolution in England, which should put
the Stuarts on the throne again, and reinstate him in his wealth and
honours. He was son of the sister of the Duke of Marlborough, by which
general he was much loved, and with whom, by permission of the King, and
of King James, he kept up a secret intercourse, of which all three were
the dupes, but which enabled Berwick to maintain other intercourses in
England, and to establish his batteries there, hoping thus for his
reinstatement even under the government established. This explains his
motive for the arrangement he made in the letters-patent. He wished his
eldest son to succeed to his English dukedom and his English estates; to
make the second Duke and Peer of France, and the third Grandee of Spain.
Three sons hereditarily elevated to the three chief dignities of the
three, chief realms in Europe, it must be agreed was not bad work for a
man to have achieved at fifty years of age! But Berwick failed in his
English projects. Do what he could all his life to court the various
ministers who came from England, he never could succeed in reestablishing
himself.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.