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

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Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans was another kind of person. She was tall,
and in every way majestic; her complexion, her throat, her arms, were
admirable; she had a tolerable mouth, with beautiful teeth, somewhat
long; and cheeks too broad, and too hanging, which interfered with, but
did not spoil, her beauty. What disfigured her most was her eyebrows,
which were, as it were, peeled and red, with very little hair; she had,
however, fine eyelashes, and well-set chestnut-coloured hair. Without
being hump-backed or deformed, she had one side larger than the other,
and walked awry. This defect in her figure indicated another, which was
more troublesome in society, and which inconvenienced herself. She had a
good deal of intellect, and spoke with much ability. She said all she
wished, and often conveyed her meaning to you without directly expressing
it; saying, as it were, what she did not say. Her utterance was,
however, slow and embarrassed, so that unaccustomed ears with difficulty
followed her.

Every kind of decency and decorum centred themselves in her, and the most
exquisite pride was there upon its throne. Astonishment will be felt at
what I am going to say, and yet, however, nothing is more strictly true:
it is, that at the bottom of her soul she believed that she, bastard of
the King, had much honoured M. d'Orleans in marrying him! M. le Duc
d'Orleans often laughed at her pride, called her Madame Lucifer, in
speaking to her, and she admitted that the name did not displease her.
She always received his advances with coldness, and a sort of superiority
of greatness. She was a princess to the backbone, at all hours, and in
all places. Yet, at the same time, her timidity was extreme. The King
could have made her feel ill with a single severe look; and Madame de
Maintenon could have done likewise, perhaps. At all events, Madame la
Duchesse d'Orleans trembled before her; and upon the most commonplace
matters never replied to either him or her without hesitation, fear
printed on her face.

M. le Duc and Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans lived an idle, languishing,
shameful, indecent, and despised life, abandoned by all the Court. This,
I felt, was one of the first things that must be remedied. Accordingly,
I induced Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans to make an effort to attract
people to her table. She did so, persevering against the coldness and
aversion she met with, and in time succeeded in drawing a tolerably
numerous company to her dinners. They were of exquisite quality, and
people soon got over their first hesitation, when they found everything
orderly, free, and unobjectionable. At these dinners, M. d'Orleans kept
within bounds, not only in his discourse, but in his behaviour. But
oftentimes his ennui led him to Paris, to join in supper parties and
debauchery. Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans tried to draw him from these
pleasures by arranging small parties at her pretty little villa, l'Etoile
(in the park of Versailles), which the King had given to her, and which
she had furnished in the most delightful manner. She loved good cheer,
the guests loved it also, and at table she was altogether another person
--free, gay, exciting, charming. M. le Duc d'Orleans cared for nothing
but noise, and as he threw off all restraint at these parties, there was
much difficulty in selecting guests, for the ears of many people would
have been much confused at his loose talk, and their eyes much astonished
to see him get drunk at the very commencement of the repast, in the midst
of those who thought only of amusing and recreating themselves in a
decent manner, and who never approached intoxication.

As the King became weaker in health, and evidently drew near his end, I
had continued interviews with Madame d'Orleans upon the subject of the
Regency, the plan of government to be adopted, and the policy she should
follow. Hundreds of times before we had reasoned together upon the
faults of the Government, and the misfortunes that resulted from them.
What we had to do was to avoid those faults, educate the young King in
good and rational maxims, so that when he succeeded to power he might
continue what the Regency had not had time to finish. This, at least,
was my idea; and I laboured hard to make it the idea of M. le Duc
d'Orleans. As the health of the King diminished I entered more into
details; as I will explain.

What I considered the most important thing to be done, was to overthrow
entirely the system of government in which Cardinal Mazarin had
imprisoned the King and the realm. A foreigner, risen from the dregs
of the people, who thinks of nothing but his own power and his own
greatness, cares nothing for the state, except in its relation to
himself. He despises its laws, its genius, its advantages: he is
ignorant of its rules and its forms; he thinks only of subjugating all,
of confounding all, of bringing all down to one level. Richelieu and his
successor, Mazarin, succeeded so well in this policy that the nobility,
by degrees, became annihilated, as we now see them. The pen and the robe
people, on the other hand, were exalted; so that now things have reached
such a pretty pass that the greatest lord is without power, and in a
thousand different manners is dependent upon the meanest plebeian. It is
in this manner that things hasten from one extreme to the other.

My design was to commence by introducing the nobility into the ministry,
with the dignity and authority due to them, and by degrees to dismiss the
pen and robe people from all employ not purely judicial. In this manner
the administration of public affairs would be entirely in the hands of
the aristocracy. I proposed to abolish the two offices of secretary of
state for the war department, and for foreign affairs, and to supply
their place by councils; also, that the offices of the navy should be
managed by a council. I insisted upon the distinct and perfect
separation of these councils, so that their authority should never be
confounded, and the public should never have the slightest trouble in
finding out where to address itself for any kind of business.

M. le Duc d'Orleans exceedingly relished my project, which we much
discussed. This point arrived at, it became necessary to debate upon the
persons who were to form these councils. I suggested names, which were
accepted or set aside, according as they met his approval or
disapprobation. "But," said M. le Duc d'Orleans, after we had been a
long time at this work, "you propose everybody and never say a word of
yourself. What do you wish to be?"

I replied, that it was not for me to propose, still less to choose any
office, but for him to see if he wished to employ me, believing me
capable, and in that case to determine the place he wished me to occupy.
This was at Marly, in his chamber, and I shall never forget it.

After some little debate, that between equals would have been called
complimentary, he proposed to me the Presidency of the Council of
Finance. But I had good reasons for shrinking from this office. I saw
that disordered as the finances had become there was only one remedy by
which improvement could be effected; and this was National Bankruptcy.
Had I occupied the office, I should have been too strongly tempted to
urge this view, and carry it out, but it was a responsibility I did not
wish to take upon myself before God and man. Yet, I felt as I said, that
to declare the State bankrupt would be the wisest course, and I am bold
enough to think, that there is not a man, having no personal interest in
the continuance of imposts, who of two evils, viz., vastly increased
taxation, and national failure, would not prefer the latter. We were in
the condition of a man who unfortunately must choose between passing
twelve or fifteen years in his bed, in continual pain, or having his leg
cut off. Who can doubt this? he would prefer the loss of his leg by a
painful operation, in order to find himself two months after quite well,
free from suffering and in the enjoyment of all his faculties.

I shrunk accordingly from the finances for the reason I have above given,
and made M. le Duc d'Orleans so angry by my refusal to accept the office
he had proposed to me, that for three weeks he sulked and would not speak
to me, except upon unimportant matters.

At the end of that time, in the midst of a languishing conversation, he
exclaimed, "Very well, then. You stick to your text, you won't have the
finances?"

I respectfully lowered my eyes and replied, in a gentle tone, that I
thought that question was settled. He could not restrain some
complaints, but they were not bitter, nor was he angry, and then rising
and taking a few turns in the room, without saying a word, and his head
bent, as was his custom when embarrassed, he suddenly spun round upon me,
and exclaimed, "But whom shall we put there?"

I suggested the Duc de Noailles, and although the suggestion at first met
with much warm opposition from M. le Duc d'Orleans, it was ultimately
accepted by him.

The moment after we had settled this point he said to me, "And you! what
will you be?" and he pressed me so much to explain myself that I said at
last if he would put me in the council of affairs of the interior, I
thought I should do better there than elsewhere.

"Chief, then," replied he with vivacity.

"No, no! not that," said I; "simply a place in the council."

We both insisted, he for, I against. "A place in that council," he said,
"would be ridiculous, and cannot be thought of. Since you will not be
chief, there is only one post which suits you, and which suits me also.
You must be in the council I shall be in the Supreme Council."

I accepted the post, and thanked him. From that moment this distinction
remained fixed.

I will not enter into all the suggestions I offered to M. le Duc
d'Orleans respecting the Regency, or give the details of all the projects
I submitted to him. Many of those projects and suggestions were either
acted upon only partially, or not acted upon at all, although nearly
every one met with his approval. But he was variable as the winds, and
as difficult to hold. In my dealings with him I had to do with a person
very different from that estimable Dauphin who was so rudely taken away
from us.

But let me, before going further, describe the last days of the King, his
illness, and death, adding to the narrative a review of his life and
character.




CHAPTER LXXII

LOUIS XIV. began, as I have before remarked, sensibly to decline, and
his appetite, which had always been good and uniform, very considerably
diminished. Even foreign countries became aware of this. Bets were laid
in London that his life would not last beyond the first of September,
that is to say, about three months, and although the King wished to know
everything, it may be imagined that nobody was very eager to make him
acquainted with the news. He used to have the Dutch papers read to him
in private by Torcy, often after the Council of State. One day as Torcy
was reading, coming unexpectedly--for he had not examined the paper--upon
the account of these bets, he stopped, stammered, and skipped it. The
King, who easily perceived this, asked him the cause of his
embarrassment; what he was passing over, and why? Torcy blushed to the
very whites of his eyes, and said it was a piece of impertinence unworthy
of being read. The King insisted; Torcy also: but at last thoroughly
confused, he could not resist the reiterated command he received, and
read the whole account of the bets. The King pretended not to be touched
by it, but he was, and profoundly, so that sitting down to table
immediately afterwards, he could not keep himself from speaking of it,
though without mentioning the gazette.

This was at Marly, and by chance I was there that day. The King looked
at me as at the others, but as though asking for a reply. I took good
care not to open my mouth, and lowered my eyes. Cheverny, (a discreet
man,) too, was not so prudent, but made a long and ill-timed rhapsody
upon similar reports that had come to Copenhagen from Vienna while he was
ambassador at the former place seventeen or eighteen years before. The
King allowed him to say on, but did not take the bait. He appeared
touched, but like a man who does not wish to seem so. It could be seen
that he did all he could to eat, and to show that he ate with appetite.
But it was also seen that the mouthfuls loitered on their way. This
trifle did not fail to augment the circumspection of the Court, above all
of those who by their position had reason to be more attentive than the
rest. It was reported that an aide-decamp of Lord Stair, who was then
English ambassador to our Court, and very much disliked for his insolent
bearing and his troublesome ways, had caused these bets by what he had
said in England respecting the health of the King. Stair, when told
this, was much grieved, and said 'twas a scoundrel he had dismissed.

As the King sensibly declined I noticed that although terror of him kept
people as much away from M. d'Orleans as ever, I was approached even by
the most considerable. I had often amused myself at the expense of these
prompt friends; I did so now, and diverted M. d'Orleans by warning him
beforehand what he had to expect.

On Friday, the 9th of August, 1715, the King hunted the stag after dinner
in his caleche, that he drove himself as usual. 'Twas for the last time.
Upon his return he appeared much knocked up. There was a grand concert
in the evening in Madame de Maintenon's apartment.

On Saturday, the 10th of August, he walked before dinner in his gardens
at Marly; he returned to Versailles about six o'clock in the evening, and
never again saw that strange work of his hands. In the evening he worked
with the Chancellor in Madame de Maintenon's rooms, and appeared to
everybody very ill. On Sunday, the eleventh of August, he held the
Council of State, walked, after dinner to Trianon, never more to go out
again during life.

On the morrow, the 12th of August, he took medicine as usual, and lived
as usual the following days. It was known that he complained of sciatica
in the leg and thigh. He had never before had sciatica, or rheumatism,
or a cold; and for a long time no touch of gout. In the evening there
was a little concert in Madame de Maintenon's rooms. This was the last
time in his life that he walked alone.

On Tuesday, the 13th of August, he made a violent effort, and gave a
farewell audience to a sham Persian ambassador, whom Pontchartrain had
imposed upon him; this was the last public action of his life. The
audience, which was long, fatigued the King. He resisted the desire for
sleep which came over him, held the Finance Council, dined, had himself
carried to Madame de Maintenon's, where a little concert was given, and
on leaving his cabinet stopped for the Duchesse de la Rochefoucauld, who
presented to him the Duchesse de la Rocheguyon, her daughter-in-law, who
was the last lady presented to him. She took her tabouret that evening
at the King's grand supper, which was the last he ever gave. On the
morrow he sent some precious stones to the Persian ambassador just
alluded to. It was on this day that the Princesse des Ursins set off for
Lyons, terrified at the state of the King as I have already related.

For more than a year the health of the King had diminished. His valets
noticed this first, and followed the progress of the malady, without one
of them daring to open his mouth. The bastards, or to speak exactly, M,
du Maine saw it; Madame de Maintenon also; but they did nothing. Fagon,
the chief physician, much fallen off in mind and body, was the only one
of the King's intimates who saw nothing. Marechal, also chief physician,
spoke to him (Fagon) several times, but was always harshly repulsed.
Pressed at last by his duty and his attachment, he made bold one morning
towards Whitsuntide to go to Madame de Maintenon. He told her what he
saw and how grossly Fagon was mistaken. He assured her that the King,
whose pulse he had often felt, had had for some time a slow internal
fever; that his constitution was so good that with remedies and attention
all would go well, but that if the malady were allowed to grow there
would no longer be any resource. Madame de Maintenon grew angry, and all
he obtained for his zeal was her anger. She said that only the personal
enemies of Fagon could find fault with his opinion upon the King's
health, concerning which the capacity, the application, the experience of
the chief physician could not be deceived. The best of it is that
Marechal, who had formerly operated upon Fagon for stone, had been
appointed chief surgeon by him, and they had always lived on the best of
terms. Marechal, annoyed as he related to me, could do nothing more, and
began from that time to lament the death of his master. Fagon was in
fact the first physician in Europe, but for a long time his health had
not permitted him to maintain his experience; and the high point of
authority to which his capacity and his favour had carried him, had at
last spoiled him. He would not hear reason, or submit to reply, and
continued to treat the King as he had treated him in early years; and
killed him by his obstinacy.

The gout of which the King had had long attacks, induced Fagon to swaddle
him, so to say, every evening in a heap of feather pillows, which made
him sweat all night to such an extent that it was necessary in the
morning to rub him down and change his linen before the grand chamberlain
and the first gentleman of the chamber could enter. For many years he
had drunk nothing but Burgundy wine, half mixed with water, and so old
that it was used up instead of the best champagne which he had used all
his life. He would pleasantly say sometimes that foreign lords who were
anxious to taste the wine he used, were often mightily deceived. At no
time had he ever drunk pure wine, or made use in any way of spirits, or
even tea, coffee, or chocolate. Upon rising, instead of a little bread
and wine and water, he had taken for a long time two glasses of sage and
veronica; often between his meals, and always on going to bed, glasses of
water with a little orange-flower water in them, and always iced. Even
on the days when he had medicine he drank this, and always also at his
meals, between which he never ate anything except some cinnamon lozenges
that he put into his pocket at his dessert, with a good many cracknels
for the bitches he kept in his cabinet.

As during the last year of his life the King became more and more
costive, Fagon made him eat at the commencement of his repasts many iced
fruits, that is to say, mulberries, melons, and figs rotten from
ripeness; and at his dessert many other fruits, finishing with a
surprising quantity of sweetmeats. All the year round he ate at supper a
prodigious quantity of salad. His soups, several of which he partook of
morning and evening, were full of gravy, and were of exceeding strength,
and everything that was served to him was full of spice, to double the
usual extent, and very strong also. This regimen and the sweetmeats
together Fagon did not like, and sometimes while seeing the King eat, he
would make most amusing grimaces, without daring however to say anything
except now and then to Livry and Benoist, who replied that it was their
business to feed the King, and his to doctor him. The King never ate any
kind of venison or water-fowl, but otherwise partook of everything, fete
days and fast days alike, except that during the last twenty years of his
life he observed some few days of Lent.

This summer he redoubled his regime of fruits and drinks. At last the
former clogged his stomach, taken after soup, weakened the digestive
organs and took away his appetite, which until then had never failed him
all his life, though however late dinner might be delayed he never was
hungry or wanted to eat. But after the first spoonfuls of soup, his
appetite came, as I have several times heard him say, and he ate so
prodigiously and so solidly morning and evening that no one could get
accustomed to see it. So much water and so much fruit unconnected by
anything spirituous, turned his blood into gangrene; while those forced
night sweats diminished its strength and impoverished it; and thus his
death was caused, as was seen by the opening of his body. The organs
were found in such good and healthy condition that there is reason to
believe he would have lived beyond his hundredth year. His stomach above
all astonished, and also his bowels by their volume and extent, double
that of the ordinary, whence it came that he was such a great yet uniform
eater. Remedies were not thought of until it was no longer time, because
Fagon would never believe him ill, or Madame de Maintenon either; though
at the same time she had taken good care to provide for her own retreat
in the case of his death. Amidst all this, the King felt his state
before they felt it, and said so sometimes to his valets: Fagon always
reassured him, but did nothing. The King was contented with what was
said to him without being persuaded: but his friendship for Fagon
restrained him, and Madame de Maintenon still more.

On Wednesday, the 14th of August, the King was carried to hear mass for
the last time; held the Council of State, ate a meat dinner, and had
music in Madame de Maintenon's rooms. He supped in his chamber, where
the Court saw him as at his dinner; was with his family a short time in
his cabinet, and went to bed a little after ten.

On Thursday, the Festival of the Assumption, he heard mass in his bed.
The night had been disturbed and bad. He dined in his bed, the courtiers
being present, rose at five and was carried to Madame de Maintenon's,
where music was played. He supped and went to bed as on the previous
evening. As long as he could sit up he did the same.

On Friday, the 16th of August, the night had been no better; much thirst
and drink. The King ordered no one to enter until ten. Mass and dinner
in his bed as before; then he was carried to Madame de Maintenon's; he
played with the ladies there, and afterwards there was a grand concert.

On Saturday, the 17th of August, the night as the preceding. He held the
Finance Council, he being in bed; saw people at his dinner, rose
immediately after; gave audience in his cabinet to the General of the
order of Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie; passed to Madame de Maintenon's,
where he worked with the Chancellor. At night, Fagon slept for the first
time in his chamber.

Sunday, the 18th of August, passed like the preceding days, Fagon
pretended there had been no fever. The King held a Council of State
before and after his dinner; worked afterwards upon the fortifications
with Pelletier; then passed to Madame de Maintenon's, where there was
music.

Monday, the 19th, and Tuesday, the 20th of August, passed much as the
previous days, excepting that on the latter the King supped in his
dressing-gown, seated in an armchair; and that after this evening he
never left his room or dressed himself again. That same day Madame de
Saint-Simon, whom I had pressed to return, came back from the waters of
Forges. The king, entering after supper into his cabinet, perceived her.
He ordered his chair to be stopped; spoke to her very kindly upon her
journey and her return; then had himself wheeled on by Bloin into the
other cabinet. She was the last Court lady to whom he spoke. I don't
count those who were always near him, and who came to him when he could
no longer leave his room. Madame de Saint-Simon said to me in the
evening that she should not have recognised the King if she had met him
anywhere else. Yet she had left Marly for Forges only on the 6th of
July.

On Wednesday, the 21st of August, four physicians saw the King, but took
care to do nothing except praise Fagon, who gave him cassia. For some
days it had been perceived that he ate meat and even bread with
difficulty, (though all his life he had eaten but little of the latter,
and for some time only the crumb, because he had no teeth). Soup in
larger quantity, hash very light, and eggs compensated him; but he ate
very sparingly.

On Thursday, the 22nd of August, the King was still worse. He saw four
other physicians, who, like the first four, did nothing but admire the
learned and admirable treatment of Fagon, who made him take towards
evening some Jesuit bark and water and intended to give him at night,
ass's milk. This same day, the King ordered the Duc de la Rochefoucauld
to bring him his clothes on the morrow, in order that he might choose
which he would wear upon leaving off the mourning he wore for a son of
Madame la Duchesse de Lorraine. He had not been able to quit his chamber
for some days; he could scarcely eat anything solid; his physician slept
in his chamber, and yet he reckoned upon being cured, upon dressing
himself again, and wished to choose his dress! In like manner there was
the same round of councils, of work, of amusements. So true it is, that
men do not wish to die, and dissimulate from themselves the approach of
death as long as possible. Meanwhile, let me say, that the state of the
King, which nobody was ignorant of, had already changed M. d'Orleans'
desert into a crowded city.

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