There presents itself to my memory an anecdote which it would be very
prudent perhaps to be silent upon, and which is very curious for anybody
who has seen things so closely as I have, to describe. What determines
me to relate it is that the fact is not altogether unknown, and that
every Court swarms with similar adventures. Must it be said then? We
had amongst us a charming young Princess who, by her graces, her
attentions, and her original manners, had taken possession of the hearts
of the King, of Madame de Maintenon, and of her husband, Monseigneur le
Duc de Bourgogne. The extreme discontent so justly felt against her
father, M. de Savoie, had not made the slightest alteration in their
tenderness for her. The King, who hid nothing from her, who worked with
his ministers in her presence whenever she liked to enter, took care not
to say a word in her hearing against her father. In private, she clasped
the King round the neck at all hours, jumped upon his knees, tormented
him with all sorts of sportiveness, rummaged among his papers, opened his
letters end read them in his presence, sometimes in spite of him; and
acted in the same manner with Madame de Maintenon. Despite this extreme
liberty, she never spoke against any one: gracious to all, she
endeavoured to ward off blows from all whenever she could; was attentive
to the private comforts of the King, even the humblest: kind to all who
served her, and living with her ladies, as with friends, in complete
liberty, old and young; she was the darling of the Court, adored by all;
everybody, great and small, was anxious to please her; everybody missed
her when she was away; when she reappeared the void was filled up; in a
word, she had attached all hearts to her; but while in this brilliant
situation she lost her own.
Nangis, now a very commonplace Marshal of France, was at that time in
full bloom. He had an agreeable but not an uncommon face; was well made,
without anything marvellous; and had been educated in intrigue by the
Marechale de Rochefort, his grandmother, and Madame de Blansac, his
mother, who were skilled mistresses of that art. Early introduced by
them into the great world of which they were, so to speak, the centre,
he had no talent but that of pleasing women, of speaking their language,
and of monopolising the most desirable by a discretion beyond his years,
and which did not belong to his time. Nobody was more in vogue than he.
He had had the command of a regiment when he was quite a child. He had
shown firmness, application, and brilliant valour in war, that the ladies
had made the most of, and they sufficed at his age; he was of the Court
of Monseigneur le Duc de Bourgogne, about the same age, and well treated
by him.
The Duc de Bourgogne, passionately in love with his wife, was not so well
made as Nangis; but the Princess reciprocated his ardor so perfectly that
up to his death he never suspected that her glances had wandered to any
one else. They fell, however, upon Nangis, and soon redoubled. Nangis
was not ungrateful, but he feared the thunderbolt; and his heart, too,
was already engaged. Madame de la Vrilliere, who, without beauty, was
pretty and grateful as Love, had made this conquest. She was, as I have
said, daughter of Madame de Mailly, Dame d'Atours of Madame la Duchesse
de Bourgogne; and was always near her. Jealousy soon enlightened her as
to what was taking place. Far from yielding her conquest to the Duchess;
she made a point of preserving it, of disputing its possession, and
carrying it off. This struggle threw Nangis into a terrible
embarrassment. He feared the fury of Madame de la Vrilliere, who
affected to be more ready to break out than in reality she was. Besides
his love for her, he feared the result of an outburst, and already saw
his fortune lost. On the other hand, any reserve of his towards the
Duchess, who had so much power in her hands--and seemed destined to have
more--and who he knew was not likely to suffer a rival
--might, he felt, be his ruin. This perplexity, for those who were aware
of it, gave rise to continual scenes. I was then a constant visitor of
Madame de Blansac, at Paris, and of the Marechale de Rochefort, at
Versailles; and, through them and several other ladies of the Court, with
whom I was intimate, I learnt, day by day, everything that passed. In
addition to the fact that nothing diverted me more, the results of this
affair might be great; and it was my especial ambition to be well
informed of everything. At length, all members of the Court who were
assiduous and enlightened understood the state of affairs; but either
through fear or from love to the Duchess, the whole Court was silent, saw
everything, whispered discreetly, and actually kept the secret that was
not entrusted to it. The struggle between the two ladies, not without
bitterness, and sometimes insolence on the part of Madame de la
Vrilliere, nor without suffering and displeasure gently manifested on the
part of Madame de Bourgogne, was for a long time a singular sight.
Whether Nangis, too faithful to his first love, needed some grains of
jealousy to excite him, or whether things fell out naturally, it happened
that he found a rival. Maulevrier, son of a brother of Colbert who had
died of grief at not being named Marshal of France, was this rival. He
had married a daughter of the Marechal de Tesse, and was not very
agreeable in appearance--his face, indeed, was very commonplace. He was
by no means framed for gallantry; but he had wit, and a mind fertile in
intrigues, with a measureless ambition that was sometimes pushed to
madness. His wife was pretty, not clever, quarrelsome, and under a
virginal appearance; mischievous to the last degree. As daughter of a
man for whom Madame de Bourgogne had much gratitude for the part he had
taken in negotiating her marriage, and the Peace of Savoy, she was easily
enabled to make her way at Court, and her husband with her. He soon
sniffed what was passing in respect to Nangis, and obtained means of
access to Madame de Bourgogne, through the influence of his father-in-
law; was assiduous in his attentions; and at length, excited by example,
dared to sigh. Tired of not being understood, he ventured to write. It
is pretended that he sent his letters through one of the Court ladies,
who thought they came from Tesse, delivered them, and handed him back the
answers, as though for delivery by him. I will not add what more was
believed. I will simply say that this affair was as soon perceived as
had been the other, and was treated, with the same silence.
Under pretext of friendship, Madame de Bourgogne went more than once--on
account of the speedy departure of her husband (for the army), attended
some, times by La Maintenon,--to the house of Madame de Maulevrier, to
weep with her. The Court smiled. Whether the tears were for Madame de
Maulevrier or for Nangis, was doubtful. But Nangis, nevertheless,
aroused by this rivalry, threw Madame de la Vrilliere into terrible
grief, and into a humour over which she was not mistress.
This tocsin made itself heard by Maulevrier. What will not a man think
of doing when possessed to excess by love or ambition? He pretended to
have something the matter with his chest, put himself on a milk diet,
made believe that he had lost his voice, and was sufficiently master of
himself to refrain from uttering an intelligible word during a whole
year; by these means evading the campaign and remaining at the Court.
He was mad enough to relate this project, and many others, to his friend
the Duc de Lorges, from whom, in turn, I learnt it. The fact was, that
bringing himself thus to the necessity of never speaking to anybody
except in their ear, he had the liberty of speaking low to--Madame la
Duchesse de Bourgogne before all the Court without impropriety and
without suspicion. In this manner he said to her whatever he wished day
by day, and was never overheard. He also contrived to say things the
short answers to which were equally unheard. He so accustomed people to
this manner of speaking that they took no more notice of it than was
expressed in pity for such a sad state; but it happened that those who
approached the nearest to Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne when Maulevrier
was at her side, soon knew enough not to be eager to draw near her again
when she was thus situated. This trick lasted more than a year: his
conversation was principally composed of reproaches--but reproaches
rarely succeed in love. Maulevrier, judging by the ill-humour of Madame
de la Vrilliere, believed Nangis to be happy. Jealousy and rage
transported him at last to the extremity of folly.
One day, as Madame de Bourgogne was coming from mass and he knew that
Dangeau, her chevalier d'honneur, was absent, he gave her his hand. The
attendants had accustomed themselves to let him have this honour, on
account of his distinguished voice, so as to allow him to speak by the
way, and retired respectfully so as not to hear what he said. The ladies
always followed far behind, so that, in the midst of all the Court, he
had, from the chapel to the apartments of Madame de Bourgogne, the full
advantages of a private interview--advantages that he had availed himself
of several times. On this day he railed against Nangis to Madame de
Bourgogne, called him by all sorts of names, threatened to tell
everything to the King and to Madame de Maintenon, and to the Duc de
Bourgogne, squeezed her fingers as if he would break them, and led her in
this manner, like a madman as he was, to her apartments. Upon entering
them she was ready to swoon. Trembling all over she entered her
wardrobe, called one of her favourite ladies, Madame de Nogaret, to her,
related what had occurred, saying she knew not how she had reached her
rooms, or how it was she had not sunk beneath the floor, or died. She
had never been so dismayed. The same day Madame de Nogaret related this
to Madame de Saint-Simon and to me, in the strictest confidence. She
counselled the Duchess to behave gently with such a dangerous madman, and
to avoid committing herself in any way with him. The worst was, that
after this he threatened and said many things against Nangis, as a man
with whom he was deeply offended, and whom he meant to call to account.
Although he gave no reason for this, the reason was only too evident.
The fear of Madame de Bourgogne at this may be imagined, and also that of
Nangis. He was brave and cared for nobody; but to be mixed up in such an
affair as this made him quake with fright. He beheld his fortune and his
happiness in the hands of a furious madman. He shunned Maulevrier from
that time as much as possible, showed himself but little, and held his
peace.
For six weeks Madame de Bourgogne lived in the most measured manner, and
in mortal tremors of fear, without, however, anything happening. I know
not who warned Tesse of what was going on. But when he learnt it he
acted like a man of ability. He persuaded his son-in-law, Maulevrier, to
follow him to Spain, as to a place where his fortune was assured to him.
He spoke to Fagon, who saw all and knew all. He understood matters in a
moment, and at once said, that as so many remedies had been tried
ineffectually for Maulevrier, he must go to a warmer climate, as a winter
in France would inevitably kill him. It was then as a remedy, and as
people go to the waters, that he went to Spain. The King and all the
Court believed this, and neither the King nor Madame de Maintenon offered
any objections. As soon as Tesse knew this he hurried his son-in-law out
of the realm, and so put a stop to his follies and the mortal fear they
had caused. To finish this adventure at once, although it will lead me
far beyond the date of other matters to be spoken of after, let me say
what became of Maulevrier after this point of the narrative.
He went first to Spain with Tesse. On the way they had an interview with
Madame des Ursins, and succeeded in gaining her favour so completely,
that, upon arriving at Madrid, the King and Queen of Spain, informed of
this, welcomed them with much cordiality. Maulevrier soon became a great
favourite with the Queen of Spain. It has been said, that he wished to
please her, and that he succeeded. At all events he often had long
interviews with her in private, and these made people think and talk.
Maulevrier began to believe it time to reap after having so well sown.
He counted upon nothing less than being made grandee of Spain, and would
have obtained this favour but for his indiscretion. News of what was in
store for him was noised abroad. The Duc de Grammont, then our
ambassador at Madrid, wrote word to the King of the rumours that were in
circulation of Maulevrier's audacious conduct towards the Queen of Spain,
and of the reward it was to meet with. The King at once sent a very
strong letter to the King of Spain about Maulevrier, who, by the same
courier, was prohibited from accepting any favour that might be offered
him. He was ordered at the same time to join Tesse at Gibraltar. He had
already done so at the instance of Tesse himself; so the courier went
from Madrid to Gibraltar to find him. His rage and vexation upon seeing
himself deprived of the recompense he had considered certain were very
great. But they yielded in time to the hopes he formed of success, and
he determined to set off for Madrid and thence to Versailles. His
father-in-law tried to retain him at the siege, but in vain. His
representations and his authority were alike useless. Maulevrier hoped
to gain over the King and Queen of Spain so completely, that our King
would be forced, as it were, to range himself on their side; but the Duc
de Grammont at once wrote word that Maulevrier had left the siege of
Gibraltar and returned to Madrid. This disobedience was at once
chastised. A courier was immediately despatched to Maulevrier,
commanding him to set out for France. He took leave of the King and
Queen of Spain like a man without hope, and left Spain. The most
remarkable thing is, that upon arriving at Paris, and finding the Court
at Marly, and his wife there also, he asked permission to go too, the
husbands being allowed by right to accompany their wives there, and the
King, to avoid a disturbance, did not refuse him.
At first everything seemed to smile upon Maulervrier. He had, as I have
said, made friends with Madame des Ursins when he was on the road to
Spain. He had done so chiefly by vaunting his intimacy with Madame de
Bourgogne, and by showing to Madame des Ursins that he was in many of the
secrets of the Court. Accordingly, upon his return, she took him by the
hand and showed a disposition towards him which could not fail to
reinstate him in favour. She spoke well of him to Madame de Maintenon,
who, always much smitten with new friends, received him well, and often
had conversations with him which lasted more than three hours. Madame de
Maintenon mentioned him to the King, and Maulevrier, who had returned out
of all hope, now saw himself in a more favourable position than ever.
But the old cause of trouble still existed, and with fresh complications.
Nangis was still in favour, and his appearance made Maulevrier miserable.
There was a new rival too in the field, the Abbe de Polignac.
Pleasing, nay most fascinating in manner, the Abbe was a man to gain all
hearts. He stopped at no flattery to succeed in this. One day when
following the King through the gardens of Marly, it came on to rain.
The King considerately noticed the Abbe's dress, little calculated to
keep off rain. "It is no matter, Sire," said De Polignac, "the rain of
Marly does not wet." People laughed much at this, and these words were a
standing reproach to the soft-spoken Abbe.
One of the means by which the Abbe gained the favour of the King was by
being the lover of Madame du Maine. His success at length was great in
every direction. He even envied the situations of Nangis and Maulevrier;
and sought to participate in the same happiness. He took the same road.
Madame d'O and the Marechale de Coeuvres became his friends.
He sought to be heard, and was heard. At last he faced the danger of the
Swiss, and on fine nights was seen with the Duchess in the gardens.
Nangis diminished in favour. Maulevrier on his return increased in fury.
The Abbe met with the same fate as they: everything was perceived: people
talked about the matter in whispers, but silence was kept. This triumph,
in spite of his age, did not satisfy the Abbe: he aimed at something more
solid. He wished to arrive at the cardinalship, and to further his views
he thought it advisable to ingratiate himself into the favour of Monsieur
de Bourgogne. He sought introduction to them through friends of mine,
whom I warned against him as a man without scruple, and intent only upon
advancing himself. My warnings were in vain. My friends would not heed
me, and the Abbe de Polignac succeeded in gaining the confidence of
Monsieur de Bourgogne, as well as the favour of Madame de Bourgogne.
Maulevrier had thus two sources of annoyance--the Abbe de Polignac and
Nangis. Of the latter he showed himself so jealous, that Madame de
Maulevrier, out of pique, made advances to him. Nangis, to screen
himself the better, replied to her. Maulevrier perceived this. He knew
his wife to be sufficiently wicked to make him fear her. So many
troubles of heart and brain transported him. He lost his head.
One day the Marechale de Coeuvres came to see him, apparently on some
message of reconciliation. He shut the door upon her; barricaded her
within, and through the door quarrelled with her, even to abuse, for an
hour, during which she had the patience to remain there without being
able to see him. After this he went rarely to Court, but generally kept
himself shut up at home.
Sometimes he would go out all alone at the strangest hours, take a fiacre
and drive away to the back of the Chartreux or to other remote spots.
Alighting there, he would whistle, and a grey-headed old man would
advance and give him a packet, or one would be thrown to him from a
window, or he would pick up a box filled with despatches, hidden behind a
post. I heard of these mysterious doings from people to whom he was vain
and indiscreet enough to boast of them. He continually wrote letters to
Madame de Bourgogne, and to Madame de Maintenon, but more frequently to
the former. Madame Cantin was their agent; and I know people who have
seen letters of hers in which she assured Maulevrier, in the strongest
terms, that he might ever reckon on the Duchess.
He made a last journey to Versailles, where he saw his mistress in
private, and quarrelled with her cruelly. After dining with Torcy he
returned to Paris. There, torn by a thousand storms of love, of
jealousy, of ambition, his head was so troubled that doctors were obliged
to be called in, and he was forbidden to see any but the most
indispensable persons, and those at the hours when he was least ill.
A hundred visions passed through his brain. Now like a madman he would
speak only of Spain, of Madame de Bourgogne, of Nangis, whom he wished to
kill or to have assassinated; now full of remorse towards M. de
Bourgogne, he made reflections so curious to hear, that no one dared to
remain with him, and he was left alone. At other times, recalling his
early days, he had nothing but ideas of retreat and penitence. Then a
confession was necessary in order to banish his despair as to the mercy
of God. Often he thought himself very ill and upon the point of death.
The world, however, and even his nearest friends persuaded themselves
that he was only playing a part; and hoping to put an end to it, they
declared to him that he passed for mad in society, and that it behoved
him to rise out of such a strange state and show himself. This was the
last blow and it overwhelmed him. Furious at finding that this opinion
was ruining all the designs of his ambition, he delivered himself up to
despair. Although watched with extreme care by his wife, by particular
friends, and by his servants, he took his measures so well, that on the
Good Friday of the year 1706, at about eight o'clock in the morning, he
slipped away from them all, entered a passage behind his room, opened the
window, threw himself into the court below, and dashed out his brains
upon the pavement. Such was the end of an ambitious man, who, by his
wild and dangerous passions, lost his wits, and then his life, a tragic
victim of himself.
Madame de Bourgogne learnt the news at night. In public she showed no
emotion, but in private some tears escaped her. They might have been of
pity, but were not so charitably interpreted. Soon after, it was noticed
that Madame de Maintenon seemed embarrassed and harsh towards Madame de
Bourgogne. It was no longer doubted that Madame de Maintenon had heard
the whole story. She often had long interviews with Madame de Bourgogne,
who always left them in tears. Her sadness grew so much, and her eyes
were so often red, that Monsieur de Bourgogne at last became alarmed.
But he had no suspicion of the truth, and was easily satisfied with the
explanation he received. Madame de Bourgogne felt the necessity,
however, of appearing gayer, and showed herself so. As for the Abbe de
Polignac, it was felt that that dangerous person was best away. He
received therefore a post which called him away, as it were, into exile;
and though he delayed his departure as long as possible, was at length
obliged to go. Madame de Bourgogne took leave of him in a manner that
showed how much she was affected. Some rather insolent verses were
written upon this event; and were found written on a balustrade by
Madame, who was not discreet enough or good enough to forget them. But
they made little noise; everybody loved Madame de Bourgogne, and hid
these verses as much as possible.