It was now three o'clock in the afternoon, and no one present
had yet dined. The Queen my mother was desirous that we should
eat together, and, after dinner, she ordered my brother and me
to change our dress (as the clothes we had on were suitable only
to our late melancholy situation) and come to the King's supper
and ball. We complied with her orders as far as a change of dress,
but our countenances still retained the impressions of grief
and resentment which we inwardly felt.
I must inform you that when the tragi-comedy I have given you
an account of was over, the Queen my mother turned round to the
Chevalier de Seurre, whom she recommended to my brother to sleep
in his bedchamber, and in whose conversation she sometimes took
delight because he was a man of some humour, but rather inclined
to be cynical.
"Well," said she, "M. de Seurre, what do you think of all this?"
"Madame, I think there is too much of it for earnest, and not
enough for jest."
Then addressing himself to me, he said, but not loud enough for
the Queen to hear him: "I do not believe all is over yet; I am
very much mistaken if this young man" (meaning my brother) "rests
satisfied with this."
This day having passed in the manner before related, the wound
being only skinned over and far from healed, the young men about
the King's person set themselves to operate in order to break
it out afresh.
These persons, judging of my brother by themselves, and not having
sufficient experience to know the power of duty over the minds of
personages of exalted rank and high birth, persuaded the King,
still connecting his case with their own, that it was impossible
my brother should ever forgive the affront he had received, and
not seek to avenge himself with the first opportunity. The King,
forgetting the ill-judged steps these young men had so lately
induced him to take, hereupon receives this new impression, and
gives orders to the officers of the guard to keep strict watch
at the gates that his brother go not out, and that his people
be made to leave the Louvre every evening, except such of them
as usually slept in his bedchamber or wardrobe.
My brother, seeing himself thus exposed to the caprices of these
headstrong young fellows, who led the King according to their
own fancies, and fearing something worse might happen than what
he had yet experienced, at the end of three days, during which
time he laboured under apprehensions of this kind, came to a
determination to leave the Court, and never more return to it,
but retire to his principality and make preparations with all
haste for his expedition to Flanders.
He communicated his design to me, and I approved of it, as I
considered he had no other view in it than providing for his
own safety, and that neither the King nor his government were
likely to sustain any injury by it.
When we consulted upon the means of its accomplishment, we could
find no other than his descending from my window, which was on the
second story and opened to the ditch, for the gates were so closely
watched that it was impossible to pass them, the face of everyone
going out of the Louvre being curiously examined. He begged of
me, therefore, to procure for him a rope of sufficient strength
and long enough for the purpose. This I set about immediately,
for, having the sacking of a bed that wanted mending, I sent
it out of the palace by a lad whom I could trust, with orders
to bring it back repaired, and to wrap up the proper length of
rope inside.
When all was prepared, one evening, at supper time, I went to
the Queen my mother, who supped alone in her own apartment, it
being fast-day and the King eating no supper. My brother, who
on most occasions was patient and discreet, spurred on by the
indignities he had received, and anxious to extricate himself
from danger and regain his liberty, came to me as I was rising
from table, and whispered to me to make haste and come to him
in my own apartment. M. de Matignon, at that time a marshal,
a sly, cunning Norman, and one who had no love for my brother,
whether he had some knowledge of his design from some one who
could not keep a secret, or only guessed at it, observed to the
Queen my mother as she left the room (which I overheard, being
near her, and circumspectly watching every word and motion, as
may well be imagined, situated as I was betwixt fear and hope,
and involved in perplexity) that my brother had undoubtedly an
intention of withdrawing himself, and would not be there the
next day; adding that he was assured of it, and she might take
her measures accordingly.
I observed that she was much disconcerted by this observation,
and I had my fears lest we should be discovered. When we came
into her closet, she drew me aside and asked if I heard what
Matignon had said.
I replied: "I did not hear it, Madame, but I observe that it has
given you uneasiness."
"Yes," said she, "a great deal of uneasiness, for you know I have
pledged myself to the King that your brother shall not depart
hence, and Matignon has declared that he knows very well he will
not be here to-morrow."
I now found myself under a great embarrassment; I was in danger
either of proving unfaithful to my brother, and thereby bringing
his life into jeopardy, or of being obliged to declare that to
be truth which I knew to be false, and this I would have died
rather than be guilty of.
In this extremity, if I had not been aided by God, my countenance,
without speaking, would plainly have discovered what I wished
to conceal. But God, who assists those who mean well, and whose
divine goodness was discoverable in my brother's escape, enabled
me to compose my looks and suggested to me such a reply as gave
her to understand no more than I wished her to know, and cleared
my conscience from making any declaration contrary to the truth.
I answered her in these words:
"You cannot, Madame, but be sensible that M. de Matignon is not
one of my brother's friends, and that he is, besides, a busy,
meddling kind of man, who is sorry to find a reconciliation has
taken place with us; and, as to my brother, I will answer for
him with my life in case he goes hence, of which, if he had any
design, I should, as I am well assured, not be ignorant, he never
having yet concealed anything he meant to do from me."
All this was said by me with the assurance that, after my brother's
escape, they would not dare to do me any injury; and in case of
the worst, and when we should be discovered, I had much rather
pledge my life than hazard my soul by a false declaration, and
endanger my brother's life. Without scrutinising the import of
my speech, she replied: "Remember what you now say,--you will
be bound for him on the penalty of your life."
I smiled and answered that such was my intention. Then, wishing
her a good night, I retired to my own bedchamber, where, undressing
myself in haste and getting into bed, in order to dismiss the
ladies and maids of honour, and there then remaining only my
chamber-women, my brother came in, accompanied by Simier and
Cangé. Rising from my bed, we made the cord fast, and having
looked out at the window to discover if anyone was in the ditch,
with the assistance of three of my women, who slept in my room,
and the lad who had brought in the rope, we let down my brother,
who laughed and joked upon the occasion without the least
apprehension, notwithstanding the height was considerable. We
next lowered Simier into the ditch, who was in such a fright
that he had scarcely strength to hold the rope fast; and lastly
descended my brother's _valet de chambre_, Cangé.
Through God's providence my brother got off undiscovered, and
going to Ste. Geneviève, he found Bussi waiting there for him.
By consent of the abbot, a hole had been made in the city wall,
through which they passed, and horses being provided and in waiting,
they mounted, and reached Angers without the least accident.
Whilst we were lowering down Cangé, who, as I mentioned before,
was the last, we observed a man rising out of the ditch, who ran
towards the lodge adjoining to the tennis-court, in the direct
way leading to the guard-house. I had no apprehensions on my
own account, all my fears being absorbed by those I entertained
for my brother; and now I was almost dead with alarm, supposing
this might be a spy placed there by M. de Matignon, and that
my brother would be taken. Whilst I was in this cruel state of
anxiety, which can be judged of only by those who have experienced
a similar situation, my women took a precaution for my safety
and their own, which did not suggest itself to me. This was to
burn the rope, that it might not appear to our conviction in
case the man in question had been placed there to watch us. This
rope occasioned so great a flame in burning, that it set fire to
the chimney, which, being seen from without, alarmed the guard,
who ran to us, knocking violently at the door, calling for it
to be opened.
I now concluded that my brother was stopped, and that we were
both undone. However, as, by the blessing of God and through
his divine mercy alone, I have, amidst every danger with which I
have been repeatedly surrounded, constantly preserved a presence
of mind which directed what was best to be done, and observing
that the rope was not more than half consumed, I told my women
to go to the door, and speaking softly, as if I was asleep, to
ask the men what they wanted. They did so, and the archers replied
that the chimney was on fire, and they came to extinguish it. My
women answered it was of no consequence, and they could put it out
themselves, begging them not to awake me. This alarm thus passed
off quietly, and they went away; but, in two hours afterward, M.
de Cossé came for me to go to the King and the Queen my mother,
to give an account of my brother's escape, of which they had
received intelligence by the Abbot of Ste. Geneviève.
It seems it had been concerted betwixt my brother and the abbot,
in order to prevent the latter from falling under disgrace, that,
when my brother might be supposed to have reached a sufficient
distance, the abbot should go to Court, and say that he had been
put into confinement whilst the hole was being made, and that
he came to inform the King as soon as he had released himself.
I was in bed, for it was yet night; and rising hastily, I put
on my night-clothes. One of my women was indiscreet enough to
hold me round the waist, and exclaim aloud, shedding a flood of
tears, that she should never see me more. M. de Cossé, pushing
her away, said to me: "If I were not a person thoroughly devoted
to your service, this woman has said enough to bring you into
trouble. But," continued he, "fear nothing. God be praised, by
this time the Prince your brother is out of danger."
These words were very necessary, in the present state of my mind,
to fortify it against the reproaches and threats I had reason
to expect from the King. I found him sitting at the foot of the
Queen my mother's bed, in such a violent rage that I am inclined
to believe I should have felt the effects of it, had he not been
restrained by the absence of my brother and my mother's presence.
They both told me that I had assured them my brother would not
leave the Court, and that I pledged myself for his stay. I replied
that it was true that he had deceived me, as he had them; however,
I was ready still to pledge my life that his departure would
not operate to the prejudice of the King's service, and that it
would appear he was only gone to his own principality to give
orders and forward his expedition to Flanders.
The King appeared to be somewhat mollified by this declaration,
and now gave me permission to return to my own apartments. Soon
afterwards he received letters from my brother, containing assurances
of his attachment, in the terms I had before expressed. This
caused a cessation of complaints, but by no means removed the
King's dissatisfaction, who made a show of affording assistance
to his expedition, but was secretly using every means to frustrate
and defeat it.