I have described in its proper place the profound fall of M. le Duc
d'Orleans and the neglect in which he lived, out of all favour with the
King, hated by Madame de Maintenon and Monseigneur, and regarded with an
unfavourable eye by the public, on account of the scandals of his private
life. I had long seen that the only way in which he could hope to
recover his position would be to give up his mistress, Madame d'Argenton,
with whom he had been on terms of intimacy for many years past, to the
knowledge and the scandal of all the world. I knew it would be a bold
and dangerous game to play, to try to persuade him to separate himself
from a woman he had known and loved so long; but I determined to engage
in it, nevertheless, and I looked about for some one to assist me in this
enterprise. At once I cast my eyes upon the Marechal de Besons, who for
many long years had been the bosom friend of M. d'Orleans. He applauded
the undertaking, but doubted, he said, its success; nevertheless he
promised to aid me to the utmost of his power, and, it will be seen, was
as good as his word. For some time I had no opportunity of accosting M.
d'Orleans, and was obliged to keep my project in abeyance, but I did not
lose sight of it; and when I saw my way clear, I took the matter in hand,
determined to strain every nerve in order to succeed.
It was just at the commencement of the year 1710, that I first spoke to
M. d'Orleans. I began by extracting from him an admission of the neglect
into which he had fallen--the dislike of the King, the hatred of
Monseigneur, who accused him of wishing to replace his son in Spain; that
of Madame de Maintenon, whom he had offended by his bon mot; the
suspicions of the public, who talked of his chemical experiments--and
then, throwing off all fear of consequences, I said that before he could
hope to draw back his friends and the world to him, he must reinstate
himself in the favour of the King. He appeared struck with what I had
said, rose after a profound silence, paced to and fro, and then asked,
"But how?" Seeing the opportunity so good, I replied in a firm and
significant tone, "How? I know well enough, but I will never tell you;
and yet it is the only thing to do."--"Ah, I understand you," said he, as
though struck with a thunderbolt; "I understand you perfectly;" and he
threw himself upon the chair at the end of the room. There he remained
some time, without speaking a word, yet agitated and sighing, and with
his eyes lowered. I broke silence at last, by saying that the state
which he was in had touched me to the quick, and that I had determined in
conjunction with the Marechal de Besons to speak to him upon the subject,
and to propose the only means by which he could hope to bring about a
change in his position. He considered some time, and then giving me
encouragement to proceed, I entered at some length upon the proposal I
had to make to him and left him evidently affected by what I had said,
when I thought I had for the time gone far enough.
The next day, Thursday, January 2nd, Besons, to whom I had written,
joined me; and after I had communicated to him what had passed the
previous evening, we hastened to M. d'Orleans. He received us well, and
we at once commenced an attack. In order to aid my purpose as much as
possible, I repeated to M. d'Orleans, at this meeting, the odious reports
that were in circulation against him, viz., that he intended to repudiate
his wife forced upon him by the King, in order to marry the Queen Dowager
of Spain, and by means of her gold to open up a path for himself to the
Spanish throne; that he intended to wait for his new wife's death, and
then marry Madame D'ARGENSON, to whom the genii had promised a throne;
and I added, that it was very fortunate that the Duchesse d'Orleans had
safely passed through the dangers of her confinement, for already some
wretches had begun to spread the saying, that he was not the son of
Monsieur for nothing. (An allusion to the death of Henriette
d'Angleterre.)
On hearing these words, the Duke was seized with a terror that cannot be
described, and at the same time with a grief that is above expression.
I took advantage of the effect my discourse had had upon him to show how
necessary it was he should make a great effort in order to win back the
favour of the King and of the public. I represented to him that the only
way to do this was to give up Madame d'Argenton, at once and for ever,
and to announce to the King that he had done so. At first he would not
hear of such a step, and I was obliged to employ all my eloquence, and
all my firmness too, to make him listen to reason. One great obstacle in
our way was the repugnance of M. d'Orleans for his wife. He had been
married, as I have described in the early part of these memoirs, against
his will, and with no sort of affection for the woman he was given to.
It was natural that he should look upon her with dislike ever since she
had become his wife. I did what I could to speak in praise of Madame la
Duchesse d'Orleans, and Besons aided me; but we did little else than
waste our breath for sometime. Our praises in fact irritated
M. d'Orleans, and to such a point, that no longer screening things or
names, he told us what we should have wished not to hear, but what it was
very lucky we did hear. He had suspicions, in fact, of his wife's
honour; but fortunately I was able to prove clearly and decisively that
those suspicions were unfounded, and I did so. The joy of M. d'Orleans
upon finding he had been deceived was great indeed; and when we separated
from him after mid-day, in order to go to dinner, I saw that a point was
gained.
A little before three o'clock I returned to M. d'Orleans, whom I found
alone in his cabinet with Besons. He received me with pleasure, and made
me seat myself between him and the Marechal, whom he complimented upon
his diligence. Our conversation recommenced. I returned to the attack
with all the arguments I could muster, and the Marechal supported me; but
I saw with affright that M. d'Orleans was less reduced than when we had
quitted him in the morning, and that he had sadly taken breath during our
short absence. I saw that, if we were to succeed, we must make the best
use we could of our time, and accordingly I brought all my powers into
play in order to gain over M. d'Orleans.
Feeling that everything was now to be lost or gained, I spoke out with
all the force of which I was capable, surprising and terrifying Marechal
Besons to such a point, with my hardihood, that he had not a word to say
in order to aid me. When I had finished, M. d'Orleans thanked me in a
piteous tone, by which I knew the profound impression I had made upon his
mind. I proposed, while he was still shaken, that he should at once send
to Madame de Maintenon, to know when she, would grant him an audience;
for he had determined to speak to her first of his intention to give up
Madame d'Argenton. Besons seconded me; and while we were talking
together, not daring to push our point farther, M. d'Orleans much
astonished us by rising, running with impetuosity to the door, and
calling aloud for his servants. One ran to him, whom he ordered in a
whisper to go to Madame de Maintenon, to ask at what hour she would see
him on the morrow. He returned immediately, and threw himself into a
chair like a man whose strength fails him and who is at his last gasp.
Uncertain as to what he had just done, I asked him if he had sent to
Madame de Maintenon. "Yes, Monsieur," said he, in a tone of despair.
Instantly I started towards him, and thanked him with all the contentment
and all the joy imaginable. This terrible interview, for the struggle we
had all gone through was very great, was soon after brought to a close,
and Besons and myself went our way, congratulating each other on the
success of this day's labour.
On the next day, Friday, the 3rd of January, I saw M. d'Orleans as he
preceded the King to mass, and in my impatience I approached him, and
speaking in a low tone, asked him if he had seen "that woman." I did not
dare to mention names just then. He replied "yes," but in so
lackadaisical a tone that I feared he had seen her to effect, and I asked
him if he had spoken to her. Upon receiving another "yes," like the
other, my emotion redoubled. "But have you told her all?" I said.
"Yes," he replied," I have told her all."--" And are you content?" said
I." Nobody could be more so," he replied; "I was nearly an hour with
her, she was very much surprised and ravished."
I saw M. d'Orleans under better circumstances at another period of the
day, and then I learnt from him that since meeting me he had spoken to
the King also, and told him all. "Ah, Monsieur," cried I with transport,
"how I love you!" and advancing warmly toward him, I added, "How glad I
am to see you at last delivered; how did you bring this to pass?"--
"I mistrusted myself so much," replied he, "and was so violently
agitated after speaking to Madame de Maintenon, that I feared to run the
risk of pausing all the morning; so, immediately after mass I spoke to
the King, and--" here, overcome by his grief, his voice faltered, and he
burst into sighs, into tears, and into sobs. I retired into a corner. A
moment after Besons entered: the spectacle and the profound silence
astonished him. He lowered his eyes, and advanced but little. At last
we gently approached each other. I told him that M. d'Orleans had
conquered himself, and had spoken to the King. The Marechal was so
bewildered with surprise and joy that he remained for some moments
speechless and motionless: then running towards M. d'Orleans, he thanked
him, felicitated him, and wept for very joy. M. d'Orleans was cruelly
agitated, now maintaining a ferocious silence, and now bursting into a
torrent of sighs, sobs, and tears. He said at last that Madame de
Maintenon had been extremely surprised with the resolution he had taken,
and at the same time delighted. She assured him that it would put him on
better terms than ever with the King, and that Madame d'Argenton should
be treated with every consideration. I pressed M. d'Orleans to let us
know how the King had received him. He replied that the King had
appeared very much surprised, but had spoken coldly. I comforted him for
this disappointment by assuring him that the King's coldness arose only
from his astonishment, and that in the end all would be well.
It would be impossible to describe the joy felt by Besons and myself at
seeing our labours brought to this satisfactory point. I knew I should
make many enemies when the part I had taken in influencing M. d'Orleans
to give up Madame d'Argenton came to be known, as it necessarily would;
but I felt I had done rightly, and left the consequences to Providence.
Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans showed me the utmost gratitude for what I
had done. She exhibited, too, so much intelligence, good sense, and
ability, in the conversation I had with her, that I determined to spare
no pains to unite her husband to her more closely; being firmly persuaded
that he would nowhere find a better counsellor than in her. The surprise
of the whole Court, when it became known that M. d'Orleans had at last
separated himself from Madame d'Argenton, was great indeed. It was only
equalled by the vexation of those who were opposed to him. Of course in
this matter I was not spared. For several days nothing was spoken of but
this rupture, and everywhere I was pointed out as the author of it,
Besons being scarcely alluded to. I parried the thrust made at me as
well as I could, as much for the purpose of leaving all the honour to
M. d'Orleans, as for the purpose of avoiding the anger of those who
were annoyed with me; and also from a just fear of showing that I had too
much influence over the mind of a Prince not without faults, and who
could not always be led.
As for Madame d'Argenton, she received the news that her reign was over
with all the consternation, rage, and despair that might have been
expected. Mademoiselle de Chausseraye was sent by Madame de Maintenon to
announce the ill news to her. When Mademoiselle de Chausseraye arrived
at Madame l'Argenton's house, Madame d'Argenton was out she had gone to
supper with the Princesse de Rohan. Mademoiselle de Chausseraye waited
until she returned, and then broke the matter to her gently, and after
much preamble and circumlocution, as though she were about to announce
the death of some one.
The tears, the cries, the howlings of Madame d'Argenton filled the house,
and announced to all the domestics that the reign of felicity was at an
end there. After a long silence on the part of Mademoiselle de
Chausseraye, she spoke her best in order to appease the poor lady. She
represented to her the delicacy and liberality of the arrangements M.
d'Orleans had made in her behalf. In the first place she was free to
live in any part of the, realm except Paris and its appanages. In the
next place he assured to her forty-five thousand livres a year, nearly
all the capital of which would belong to the son he had had by her, whom
he had recognised and made legitimate, and who has since become Grandee
of Spain, Grand Prieur of France, and General of the Galleys (for the
best of all conditions in France is to have none at all, and to be a
bastard). Lastly he undertook to pay all her debts up to the day of the
rupture, so that she should not be importuned by any creditor, and
allowed her to retain her jewellery, her plate, her furniture--worth
altogether about four hundred thousand livres. His liberality amounted
to a total of about two million livres, which I thought prodigious.
Madame d'Argenton, in despair at first, became more tractable as she
learnt the provisions which had been made for her, and the delicacy with
which she was treated. She remained four days in Paris, and then
returned to her father's house near Port-Sainte-Maxence, the Chevalier
d'Orleans, her son, remaining at the Palais Royal. The King after his
first surprise had worn away, was in the greatest joy at the rupture; and
testified his gratification to M. d'Orleans, whom he treated better and
better every day. Madame de Maintenon did not dare not to contribute a
little at first; and in this the Prince felt the friendship of the
Jesuits, whom he had contrived to attach to him.
The Duchesse de Bourgogne did marvels of her own accord; and the Duc de
Bourgogne, also, being urged by M. de Beauvilliers. Monseigneur alone
remained irritated, on account of the Spanish affair.
I must here mention the death of M. le Duc. He was engaged in a trial
which was just about to be pleaded. He had for some time suffered from a
strange disease, a mixture of apoplexy and epilepsy, which he concealed
so carefully, that he drove away one of his servants for speaking of it
to his fellows.
For some time he had had a continual headache. This state troubled the
gladness he felt at being delivered from his troublesome father and
brother-in-law. One evening he was riding in his carriage, returning
from a visit to the Hotel de Coislin, without torches, and with only one
servant behind, when he felt so ill that he drew the string, and made his
lackey get up to tell him whether his mouth was not all on one side.
This was not the case, but he soon lost speech and consciousness after
having requested to be taken in privately to the Hotel de Conde. They
there put him in bed. Priests and doctors came. But he only made
horrible faces, and died about four o'clock in the morning.
Madame la Duchesse did not lose her presence of mind, and, whilst her
husband was dying, took steps to secure her future fortune. Meanwhile
she managed to cry a little, but nobody believed in her grief. As for M.
le Duc, I have already mentioned some anecdotes of him that exhibit his
cruel character. He was a marvellously little man, short, without being
fat. A dwarf of Madame la Princesse was said to be the cause. He was of
a livid yellow, nearly always looked furious, and was ever so proud, so
audacious, that it was difficult to get used to him. His cruelty and
ferocity were so extreme that people avoided him, and his pretended
friends would not invite him to join in any merriment. They avoided him:
he ran after them to escape from solitude, and would sometimes burst upon
them during their jovial repasts, reproach them with turning a cold
shoulder to him, and change their merriment to desolation.
After the death of M. le Duc, a grand discussion on precedence at the
After-suppers, set on foot by the proud Duchesse d'Orleans, was,--after
an elaborate examination by the King, brought to a close. The King
ordered his determination to be kept secret until he formally declared
it. It is necessary to set forth in a few words the mechanism of the
After-suppers every day. The King, on leaving table, stopped less than a
half-quarter of an hour with his back leaning against the balustrade of
his chamber. He there found in a circle all the ladies who had been at
his supper, and who came there to wait for him a little before he left
table, except the ladies who sat, who came out after him, and who, in the
suite of the Princes and the Princesses who had supped with him, advanced
one by one and made him a courtesy, and filled up the remainder of the
standing circle; for a space was always left for them by the other
ladies. The men stood behind. The King amused himself by observing the
dresses, the countenances, and the gracefulness of the ladies courtesies,
said a word to the Princes and Princesses who had supped with him, and
who closed the circle near him an either hand, then bowed to the ladies
on right and left, bowed once or twice more as he went away, with a grace
and majesty unparalleled, spoke sometimes, but very rarely, to some lady
in passing, entered the first cabinet, where he gave the order, and then
advanced to the second cabinet, the doors from the first to the second
always remaining open. There he placed himself in a fauteuil, Monsieur,
while he was there, in another; the Duchesse de Bourgogne, Madame (but
only after the death of Monsieur), the Duchesse de Berry (after her
marriage), the three bastard-daughters, and Madame du Maine (when she was
at Versailles), on stools on each side. Monseigneur, the Duc de
Bourgogne, the Duc de Berry, the Duc d'Orleans, the two bastards, M. le
Duc (as the husband of Madame la Duchesse), and afterwards the two sons
of M. du Maine, when they had grown a little, and D'Antin, came
afterwards, all standing. It was the object of the Duchesse d'Orleans to
change this order, and make her daughters take precedence of the wives of
the Princes of the blood; but the King declared against her. When he
made the public announcement of his decision, the Duc d'Orleans took the
opportunity of alluding to a marriage which would console him for
everything. "I should think so," replied the King, dryly, and with a
bitter and mocking smile.