Cardinal de Richelieu, in spite of all his talent, used to have fits
of madness; he fancied sometimes he was a horse, and would gallop
round a billiard-table, neighing, and making a great noise for a hour,
and trying to kick his attendants. After that they would put him to
bed and cover him up to induce perspiration, and when he woke up he
had no recollection of what had happened.
The late king used to say: "I own I am piqued when I see that with
all my authority as king over this country, I have complained in
vain against those tall head-dresses; for not one person has shown
the least desire to please me by lowering them. And yet a stranger
arrives, an English nobody, with a flat cap, and suddenly all the
princesses have gone from one extreme to the other."
Mme. d'Orléans looks older than she is, for she puts on a great deal
of rouge, and her cheeks and nose are pendent; moreover the small-pox
has left her with a trembling of the head like that of an old woman.
She is so indolent she expects to have larks drop roasted into her
mouth, but as we do not live in a land where things are to be had for
the asking, that is past wishing for. She would like very well to
govern; but she does not understand true dignity, she is too badly
bred for that; she knows how to live as a simple duchess but not as a
grand-daughter of France.
My son's intentions are always good and upright; if some things happen
that ought not to be, they are certain to be the doing of some one
else. He is too easy and is not sufficiently distrustful; consequently
he is often deceived; for wicked people know his kindness and abuse
it shamefully. It is a fact that my son has enough education to keep
him from ever being bored; he knows music well, and composes, not
badly; he paints very prettily; he understands several languages, and
he likes to read; he is well-informed about chemistry and comprehends
without trouble very difficult sciences. And yet, all that does not
keep him from being bored by everything. I have reason myself to be
satisfied with him. He lives very well with me and gives me no ground
to complain of him. He pays me much attention, and I know few persons
in whom he has more confidence than he has in me.
In early days they always called me sister-pacificator, because I did
my best to keep the peace between Monsieur and his cousin la Grande
Mademoiselle, and also her sister, the Grand-duchess of Tuscany. They
quarrelled often, and like children, for the merest nonsense. Monsieur
was very jealous of his children; he kept them as much as he could
away from me; he let me have more authority over my daughter and the
Queen of Sicily than over my son; but he could not prevent me from
telling him plain truths. My daughter never in her life did anything
to cause me uneasiness.
Monsieur did not like hunting. He never could bring himself to mount
a horse--except at the wars. He wrote so badly that he frequently
brought me the letters he had written to get me to read them to him,
saying with a laugh, "You are so accustomed to my writing, madame, do
read that to me, for I don't know what I said." We often laughed over
this with all our hearts.
The Duc du Maine thought he could have married my daughter, but
certain merchants who were in Mme. de Montespan's apartment overheard
her speaking to Mme. de Maintenon of the marriage,--those ladies
thinking such common persons would not understand them. But the
merchants spoke up and said, "Mesdames, don't try that; it will cost
you your lives if you make that marriage." That prevented the thing;
for Mme. de Montespan was so frightened she went to the king and
begged him not to think of it any longer.
The King of Denmark, Frederick IV., seems to me rather a fool; he
wants to pass himself off as being in love with my daughter; in
dancing he presses her hand and rolls his eyes up to heaven; he
began a minuet at one end of the hall and ought to have ended it at
the other, but he stopped in the middle to be told what to do. That
distressed me for him; so I rose, took him by the hand, and led him
back to his place; I think without that he would be still in the same
spot. The good soul does not know what is and what is not the thing to
do.
The Pretender has been well received in Scotland and proclaimed king;
but I cannot tell you more, for we have very little news from England.
The Queen of England is so happy in hearing of her son's safe arrival
and good reception. The poor woman is not accustomed to rejoice; her
satisfaction has been so great that a fever which she had has passed
off. I know from a good source that the pope and the King of Spain
furnished the money for the Pretender. The pope gave thirty thousand
crowns, and the king three hundred thousand; as for my son, he did not
give a penny.
Religion used to be very reasonable in France before the old _guenipe_
reigned here; but she ruined everything and introduced all sorts of
silly devotions,--rosaries and such-like. If any persons wanted to
reason upon that matter she and the confessor sent them to prison or
exiled them. Those two caused all the persecutions that were levelled
in France against the poor Reformers and Lutherans. That Jesuit with
the long ears, Père La Chaise, began the work in union with the old
_guenipe_, and Père Tellier finished it; it was thus that France has
been utterly ruined.
The old woman was implacable, and when she had once taken a dislike to
any one it was for life, and that person became the object of a secret
persecution that never ceased. I experienced this; she laid many
traps for me, which I escaped by the help of God. She was dreadfully
weary of her old husband, who was always in her room. Some persons
assert that she poisoned Mansard; they say she discovered that Mansard
intended that very day to show certain papers to the king which
would prove how she had made money from the post without the king's
knowledge. Never in his life did the king hear of this adventure, nor
of that of Louvois, because no one was inclined to be poisoned--that
kept all tongues respectful.
Long before his death the king was entirely converted and no longer
ran after women; when he was young the women ran after him; but
he renounced all that sort of life when he imagined that he became
devout. The real truth was that the old witch watched him so closely
he dared not look at a woman; she disgusted him with society, to have
him and govern him alone, and this under pretence of taking care of
his soul. She controlled him so well that he even exiled the Duchesse
de la Ferté who posed as being in love with him. When that duchess
could not see him she had his portrait in her carriage, in order to
look at him constantly. The king said she made him ridiculous, and
sent her an order to go and live on her estates. It was suspected,
however, that the Duchesse de Roquelaire, of the family of Laval, had
made a conquest of the king; certainly his Majesty was not angry about
her as he was with the Duchesse de la Ferté. Gossip had a great deal
to say about this intrigue, but I never put my nose into it.