The Chevalier de Lorraine, who in that ill.u.s.trious and luckless household was omnipotent, insulted the Princess in the most outrageous manner.
Finding such daily slights and affronts unbearable, Madame complained to the Kings of France and England, who both exiled the Chevalier.
Monsieur de Lorraine d"Armagnac, before leaving, gave instructions to Morel, one of Monsieur"s kitchen officials, to poison the Princess, and this monster promptly executed the order by rubbing poison on her silver goblet.
I no longer belonged to Madame"s household,--my marriage had caused a change in my duties; but ever feeling deep attachment for this adorable princess, I hastened to Saint Cloud directly news reached me of her illness. To my horror, I saw the sudden change which had come over her countenance; her horrible agony drew tears from the most callous, and approaching her I kissed her hand, in spite of her confessor, who sought to constrain her to be silent. She then repeatedly told me that she was dying from the effects of poison.
This she also told the King, whom she perceived shed tears of consternation and distress.
That evening, at Versailles, the King said to me, "If this crime is my brother"s handiwork, his head shall fall on the scaffold."
When the body was opened, proof of poison was obtained, and poison of the most corrosive sort, for the stomach was eaten into in three places, and there was general inflammation.
The King summoned his brother, in order to force him to explain so heinous a crime. On perceiving his mien, Monsieur became pale and confused. Rushing upon him sword in hand, the King was for demolishing him on the spot. The captain of the guard hastened thither, and Monsieur swore by the Holy Ghost that he was guiltless of the death of his dear wife.
Leaving him a prey to remorse, if guilty he were, the King commanded him to withdraw, and then shut himself up in his closet to prepare a consolatory message to the English Court. According to the written statement, which was also published in the newspapers, Madame had been carried off by an attack of bilious colic. Five or six bribed physicians certified to that effect, and a lying set of depositions, made for mere form"s sake, bore out their statements in due course.
The Abbe de Bossuet, charged to preach the funeral sermon, was apparently desirous of being as obliging as the doctors. His homily led off with such fulsome praise of Monsieur, that, from that day forward, he lost all his credit, and sensible people thereafter only looked upon him as a vile sycophant, a mere dealer in flattery and fairy-tales.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Madame Scarron.--Her Pet.i.tion.--The King"s Aversion to Her.--She is Presented to Madame de Montespan.--The Queen of Portugal Thinks of Engaging Her.--Madame de Montespan Keeps Her Back.--The Pension Continued.--The King"s Graciousness.--Rage of Mademoiselle d"Aumale.
As all the pensions granted by the Queen-mother had ceased at her demise, the pensioners began to solicit the ministers anew, and all the pet.i.tions, as is customary, were sent direct to the King.
One day his Majesty said to me, "Have you ever met in society a young widow, said to be very pretty, but, at the same time, extremely affected?
It is to Madame Scarron that I allude, who, both before and after widowhood, has resided at the Marais."
I replied that Madame Scarron was an extremely pleasant person, and not at all affected. I had met her at the Richelieus" or the Albrets", where her charm of manner and agreeable wit had made her in universal request.
I added a few words of recommendation concerning her pet.i.tion, which, unfortunately, had just been torn up, and the King curtly rejoined, "You surprise me, madame; the portrait I had given to me of her was a totally different one."
That same evening, when the young Marquis d"Alincour spoke to me about this pet.i.tion which had never obtained any answer, I requested him to go and see Madame Scarron as soon as possible, and tell her that, in her own interest, I should be pleased to receive her.
She lost no time in paying me a visit. Her black attire served only to heighten the astounding whiteness of her complexion. Effusively thanking me for interesting myself in her most painful case, she added:
"There is, apparently, some obstacle against me. I have presented two pet.i.tions and two memoranda; being unsupported, both have been left unanswered, and I have now just made the following resolve, madame, of which you will not disapprove. M. Scarron, apparently well off, had only a life interest in his property. Upon his death, his debts proved in excess of his capital, and I, deeming it my duty to respect his intentions and his memory, paid off everybody, and left myself nothing.
To-day, Madame la Princesse de Nemours wishes me to accompany her to Lisbon as her secretary, or rather as her friend.
"Being about to acquire supreme power as a sovereign, she intends, by some grand marriage, to keep me there, and then appoint me her lady-in-waiting."
"And you submit without a murmur to such appalling exile?" I said to Madame Scarron. "Is such a pretty, charming person as yourself fitted for a Court of that kind, and for such an odd sort of climate?"
"Madame, I have sought to shut my eyes to many things, being solely conscious of the horribly forlorn condition in which I find myself in my native country."
"Have you reckoned the distance? Did the Princess confess that she was going to carry you off to the other end of the world? For her city of Lisbon, surrounded by precipices, is more than three hundred leagues from Paris."
"At the age of three I voyaged to America, returning hither when I was eleven."
"I am vexed with Mademoiselle d"Aumale for wanting to rob us of so charming a treasure.
[Mademoiselle d"Aumale, daughter of the Duc de Nemours, of the House of Savoy. She was a blonde, pleasant-mannered enough, but short of stature.
Her head was too big for her body; and this head of hers was full of conspiracies and coups d"etat. She dethroned her husband in order to marry his brother.--EDITOR"S NOTE.]
But has she any right to act in this way? Do you think her capable of contributing to your pleasure or your happiness? This young Queen of Portugal, under the guise of good-humour, hides a violent and irascible temperament. I believe her to be thoroughly selfish; suppose that she neglects and despises you, after having profited by your company to while away the tedium of her journey? Take my word for it, madame, you had better stay here with us; for there is no real society but in France, no wit but in our great world, no real happiness but in Paris.
Draw up another pet.i.tion as quickly as possible, and send it to me. I will present it myself, and to tell you this is tantamount to a promise that your plea shall succeed."
Mademoiselle d"Aubigne, all flushed with emotion, a.s.sured me of her grat.i.tude with the ingenuous eloquence peculiar to herself. We embraced as two friends of the Albret set should do, and three days later, the King received a new pet.i.tion, not signed with the name of Scarron, but with that of D"Aubigne.
The pension of two thousand francs, granted three years before her death by the Queen-mother, was renewed. Madame Scarron had the honour of making her courtesy to the King, who thought her handsome, but grave in demeanour, and in a loud, clear voice, he said to her, "Madame, I kept you waiting; I was jealous of your friends."
The Queen of Portugal knew that I had deprived her of her secretary, fellow-gossip, reader, Spanish teacher, stewardess, confidante, and lady-in-waiting. She wrote to me complaining about this, and on taking leave of the King to go and reign in Portugal, she said, with rather a forced air of raillery:
"I shall hate you as long as I live, and if ever you do me the honour of paying me a visit some day at Lisbon, I"ll have you burned for your pains."
Then she wanted to embrace me, as if we were equals, but this I deprecated as much from aversion as from respect.
CHAPTER XIX.
La Fontaine.--Boileau.--Moliere.--Corneille.--Louis XIV."s Opinion of Each of Them.
The King"s studies with his preceptor, Perefixe, had been of only a superficial sort, as, in accordance with the express order of the Queen-mother, this prelate had been mainly concerned about the health of his pupil, the Queen being, above all, desirous that he should have a good const.i.tution. "The rest comes easily enough, if a prince have but n.o.bility of soul and a sense of duty," as the Queen often used to say.
Her words came true.
I came across several Spanish and Italian books in the library of the little apartments. The "Pastor Fido," "Aminta," and the "Gerusalemme,"
seemed to me, at first, to be the favourite works. Then came Voiture"s letters, the writings of Malherbe and De Balzac, the Fables of La Fontaine, the Satires of Boileau, and the delightful comedies of Moliere.
Corneille"s tragedies had been read, but not often.
Until I came to Court, I had always looked upon Corneille as the greatest tragic dramatist in the world, and as the foremost of our poets and men of letters. The King saved me from this error.
Book in hand, he pointed out to me numberless faults of style, incoherent and fantastic imagery, sentiment alike exaggerated and a thousand leagues removed from nature. He considered, and still considers, Pierre Corneille to be a blind enthusiast of the ancients, whom we deem great since we do not know them. In his eyes, this declamatory poet was a republican more by virtue of his head than his heart or his intention,--one of those men more capricious than morose, who cannot reconcile themselves to what exists, and prefer to fall back upon bygone generations, not knowing how to live like friendly folk among their contemporaries.
He liked La Fontaine better, by reason of his extreme naturalness, but his unbecoming conduct at the time of the Fouquet trial proved painful to his Majesty, who considered the following verses pa.s.sing strange:
". . . . Trust not in kings Their favour is but slippery; worse than that, It costs one dear, and errors such as these Full oft bring shame and scandal in their wake."
"Long live Moliere!" added his Majesty; "there you have talent without artifice, poetry without rhapsody, satire without bitterness, pleasantry that is always apt, great knowledge of the human heart, and perpetual raillery that yet is not devoid of delicacy and compa.s.sion. Moliere is a most charming man in every respect; I gave him a few hints for his "Tartuffe," and such is his grat.i.tude that he wants to make out that, without me, he would never have written that masterpiece."
"You helped him, Sire, to produce it, and above all things, to carry out his main idea; and Moliere is right in thinking that, without a mind free from error, such as is yours, his masterpiece would never have been created."
"It struck me," continued the King, "that some such thing was indispensable as a counterbalance in the vast machinery of my government, and I shall ever be the friend and supporter, not of Tartuffes, but of the "Tartuffe," as long as I live."