I never thought, my dear grandmamma, that I should find myself in
a besieged town, and be waked by the sound of cannon as I was this
morning. I hope we shall soon get out of this state. It is true
that I have great pleasures here. I shall be delighted to go back
to Versailles and to the menagerie at Saint-Cyr. Certainly one has
no leisure to be bored. I am convinced that you share my happiness,
because of the love you have for me.
FONTAINEBLEAU, October 31, 1698.
The stay at Fontainebleau is very agreeable to me, especially as
it is the second place where I had the honour of seeing the king;
and I hope, my dear grandmamma, that I shall be happy not only at
Fontainebleau but everywhere, being resolved to do all that depends on
me to be so.
Those who love me have every reason to be glad with me in the king's
kindness, for he gives me every day fresh marks of it. I have reason
to think it will increase; at any rate I shall forget nothing on
my part to deserve it. I am going to try a new pleasure,--that of
travelling. But I shall love you everywhere, my dear grandmamma.
VERSAILLES, December, 1698.
I could not write you by the last courier, my dear grandmamma,
because I am out continually, and every evening I go to the king. I
am sure that excuse will not displease you, and that you will think
my time well spent if near the king. His kindness to me can never be
expressed; and as I know the interest you take in my happiness I am
very glad to assure you it is perfect, and that I shall never forget
the tenderness I ought to have and do have for you.
January 10, 1699.
I am not yet free enough, my dear grandmamma, with M. le Duc de
Bourgogne to do the honours of him. I am only very glad that you are
content with his letter. I wish that mine could express what I desire
for your happiness during this year and many other years, and how
much I hope that you will love me always.
MARLY, July 3, 1699.
I am very glad, my dear grandmamma, that you are not tired of telling
me of your friendship, for I always receive the assurance of it with
fresh joy. I wish I could tell you of the beauty of this place and of
the pleasures we have here. I am delighted to be on the footing of
coming here on all the trips, for I like these as well as I do those
of the Marly-Bourgogne. I embrace you, my dear grandmamma, and I am
going to bathe.
December 27, 1699.
It is true, my dear grandmother, that I have a good friend in Mme. de
Maintenon, and it will not be her fault if I am not perfect and happy.
M. le Cardinal d'Estrées wishes to carry a letter to you from me, and
I give it to him willingly. I shall trust to his informing you of all
that concerns me; but he cannot tell you how I love you, nor to what
point I am touched by your kindness. I go about in mask the last few
days, and so, sleeping very late, I have little time for the rest.
_To Vittorio Amadeo, Duc de Savoie._
January 3, 1700.
Be pleased to approve, my dear father, that, according to custom,
I should renew at the beginning of this year the assurances of my
respect, my gratitude, and my tenderness for you, and I beg you to
love me always. M. de Brionne tells me things as to that which give me
great pleasure, as proving to me that my removal has not diminished
your affection for me.
If I do not write oftener, my dear father, believe, I entreat you,
that the fear of importuning you prevents it, also the confidence I
have that you will never doubt the feelings of tenderness, respect,
and gratitude which I owe to the best father in the world. I should be
grieved indeed if I did not do you justice in that respect; you could
not think otherwise without having a bad opinion of me, who indeed
deserve the tenderness I ask of you.
March 20, 1700.
There is never a time that I do not receive your letters with
pleasure, my dear grandmamma; but it is true that the carnival keeps
me occupied, and the balls lead to other occupations that take all my
time. That is what has hindered me from writing. I am delighted that
the reports made to you of me have been agreeable; for I desire to
please you in everything and preserve the affection you have always
had for me.
November 16, 1700.
I am delighted, my dear grandmamma, that you approve of what I am
doing; I have no stronger passion than that of doing nothing wrong
and thus deserving the esteem of honourable people. Yours, my dear
grandmamma, is precious to me.
Perhaps you will think this discourse very serious; but I warn you I
am no longer a child; even my gayety is a little diminished. The more
reasonable I become, the more I know, my dear grandmamma, how much I
ought to love you.
December 27, 1701.
I am ashamed, my dear grandmamma, to have been so long without writing
to you. It may be partly my fault, and for that I beg your pardon;
but I assure you we lead a life of great irregularity, changing
continually from place to place.
I am delighted to tell you that my sister is very happy and that
the King of Spain is extremely content with her. [Marie-Louise de
Savoie, married to Philippe V.] What she did about her women was only
a piece of childishness, and had no consequences. I hope that she and
I, my dear grandmamma, will give you nothing but joy, and that my
irregularities will never make you doubt the affection that I have for
you.
January 9, 1702.
I am very irregular, my dear grandmother, in not having wished you a
happy year, but I have been unwell with inflammations and headaches.
Forgive me, dear grandmother, and do not think that I love you less
tenderly. The Marquis de Coudray is returning to Turin. You can hear
more about me in detail from him. He seems charmed with this country.
I have spared no pains to make him satisfied with me, and I think I
have succeeded. He will tell you that your grand-daughter has grown
tall. It seems to me that I am no longer young; my childhood has
lasted but a short time!
[The correspondence with her mother, Anne, daughter of Monsieur
and Henrietta of England, was doubtless voluminous, but it has
disappeared. Four letters remain for the month of January of this
year, showing their rapid intercourse, but only three for the rest of
Marie-Adélaïde's short lifetime.]
January 2, 1702.
I think with you, my dear mother, that news from Spain comes slowly.
I would like to know all that She does from morning till night, to
satisfy the interest that I feel. I am, however, more easy now that I
feel the true affection that exists between the King of Spain and Her.
I hope, my dear mother, that we shall have in that direction sources
of joy only.
I pique myself now on being a great personage, and I think that
"Mamma" is not suitable. But I shall love still more my dear mother
than my dear mamma, because I now understand better what your value
is, and what I owe to you.
VERSAILLES, January 9, 1702.
I have no news from you this week, my dear mother, for which I am
sorry: but I think the ice and snow are the reason. The wretched
weather prevents our going to Marly, for it is not fit weather for the
country. I fear this winter will give us no amusement that I can write
about; on account of the mourning there may be no balls, theatres, or
any pleasures. I do not regret it much, for the carnival is very short
this year, and consequently more easy to do without.
January 23, 1702.
I send you the plan which M. Mansart has returned to me. It seems to
me very pretty, if the works are well executed. He begs me to ask if
you would like him to send you a man to execute them. You have only
to tell me what you wish. I will gladly take charge of it, my dear
mother, desiring nothing so much as to please you in all things.
The King of Spain's journey to Italy is decided on. This gives me
great pleasure, and I see at the same time that they are still greatly
satisfied with my sister. I will tell you more by the next courier.
I am now going to see the Queen of England, and thence to Marly, where
we shall dance. On this trip we played a comedy [this was the time
when they played "Athalie"]; the king was much pleased with it, and so
was Monseigneur. Forgive me, my dear mother, if I write badly; it is
because I am so hurried. You know well that I love best to write to
you and amuse you for a moment.
Adieu, my very dear mother; I embrace you with all my heart, my dear
mother, with all my heart.
MARLY, January 30, 1702.
Thank God, I am rid of inflammation, my dear mother, after having
my cheek swelled for a week, with fever at night. The great cold
prevented them from giving me remedies, of which I was very glad; they
wanted at all risks to bleed me, assuring me that the inflammation
would continue if it were not done. However, I am rid of the swelling
without it, and, provided it does not return, I am content.
I am very sorry, my dear mother, that you do not receive my letters
regularly; yours do not play me the same trick. The prospect of peace
continues wonderfully good, and it makes me hope that we shall soon
have it. I own to you, my dear mother, that I await it with great
impatience, for I think we shall all have reason then to be satisfied.
It will be a great consolation to me to see no more of this vile war
which has lasted for so long a time.
Adieu, my dear mother; love me always, and be assured of the tender
feelings that I have for you.
VERSAILLES, July 4, 1702.
We have been much afflicted, my dear grandmother [by the death of
Monsieur, her maternal grandfather] and I have felt for my own sake
much more than I expected. I loved Monsieur very much and I think
he loved me. His death was unexpected, at least by us, and all the
circumstances were painful. I am convinced, my dear grandmother, that
you have felt it also, and I count on your affection under all events.
Never doubt that which I have for you.
April 2, 1703.
I am delighted, my dear grandmother, that you have given me a
commission. I send you a sample of tea, which they assure me is
excellent. If you find it so I will send you more. The king does not
take it; M. Fagon orders him sage tea, which agrees with him. I hope
the use of this tea will do the same with you; no one in the world
feels more interest in you than I, my dear grandmother.
[Only two letters of the year 1704 have been preserved. The health
of the princess caused such anxiety that she was made (according to
Dangeau's Journal) to keep her bed from February 8th until after the
birth of her first child, the Duc de Bretagne, born June 25, 1704. She
was then eighteen years old.]
September 1, 1704.
I am ashamed, my dear grandmother, to have been so long without
writing to you; but I have had many ailments that prevented it. You
will surely believe that I would not otherwise have been all this time
without assuring you of my tenderness and begging you for that you
have always shown me.
I cannot help telling you about my son, who is very well; he would be
rather pretty if he did not have an eruption, but I am in hopes when
we get to Fontainebleau he will have no more of it.
April 25, 1705.
I cannot, my dear grandmother, be longer without comforting myself
with you in the sorrow that has befallen me [death of her son]. I am
convinced that you have felt it, for I know the affection you have for
me. If we did not take all the sorrows of this life from God, I do not
know what would become of us. I think He wants to draw me to Him, by
overwhelming me with every sort of grief. My health suffers greatly,
but that is the least of my troubles.
I have received one of your letters, my dear grandmother, which
gave me great pleasure; the assurances of your affection bring me
consolation. I have great need of it in my present state. Adieu; I
write so slowly that the shortest letters take me a great deal of time.
[At the close of the year 1703 her father, Vittorio Amadeo, had
entered the alliance against France; the battle of Ramillies was
fought May 23, 1706, and the French were defeated at Turin September 7
of the same year.]
MARLY, June 21, 1706.
I can be no longer, my dear grandmother, without sharing all our
troubles with you. Imagine my anxiety as to what is happening with
you, loving you as I do very tenderly and having all possible
affection for my father, my mother, and my brothers. I cannot think of
them in so unhappy a position without tears in my eyes, for assuredly,
my dear grandmother, I feel for all that concerns you, and I see by
all that is in me to what point my love for my family goes.
My health is not so much injured as it might be; I am pretty well, but
in a state of sadness which no amusement can lessen, and which will
never leave me, my dear grandmother, for it serves to comfort me in my
present state.
Do not deprive me, I conjure you, of your letters. They give me much
pleasure; I need them in the state I am in. Send me news of all that
is dearest to me in the world.
MARLY, July 25, 1706.
I have not written, my dear grandmother, not knowing if you are still
with my mother, being unable to obtain the slightest information. You
know my heart; imagine therefore the state I am in. I feel for yours;
I cannot be reconciled to your trials; I see them increasing with
extreme sorrow; there is not a day when I do not feel them keenly, and
weep in thinking of what my dear family--whom I would give my life to
comfort--is suffering.
I am glad, my dear grandmother, that the fatigues of so sad and
painful a journey [the removal of the royal family from Turin before
the siege] has not injured your health. I pity my mother, who, for
additional sorrow, is anxious about the illness of her children and
yet is obliged to travel with them in such excessive heat and over
such dreadful roads.
I have no other comfort, my dear grandmother, than in receiving your
letters and the assurance of your affection. We all need great courage
to sustain such violent griefs as those we have had of late. God is
trying me by ways in which I feel it most; I must resign myself to His
will, and pray that He will soon withdraw us from the state in which
we are. As for me, I feel I cannot bear it longer if He does not give
me strength.
VERSAILLES, March, 1707.
I am delighted, my dear grandmother, that you exhort me to give you
frequent news of my son [the second Duc de Bretagne, born January 7,
1707]; I assure you I do not need to be urged to do so. He is very
well, thank God. I found him much grown and changed for the better
on my return to Marly. He is not handsome, up to this time, but very
lively, and much healthier than he was when he came into the world.
He is only two months old, and I should not be surprised if, a few
months hence, he became pretty. I don't know whether it is that I
am beginning to blind myself about him and therefore hope it. But I
believe that I shall never be blind about my children, and that the
love I have for them will make me see their defects and so try in good
season to correct them.
I go very seldom to see my son, in order not to grow too attached
to him; also to note the changes in him. He is not old enough to
play with as yet, and as long as I know he is in good health, I am
satisfied; that is all I need wish for as yet.
_To Mme. de Maintenon._
VERSAILLES, July, 1707.
I am in despair, my dear aunt, to be always doing foolish things and
giving you reason to complain of me. I am thoroughly resolved to
correct myself, and not play any longer at that miserable game, which
only injures my reputation, and diminishes your affection, which is
more precious to me than all. I beg you, my dear aunt, not to speak
of this in case I keep the resolution I have made. If I break it only
once, I should be glad that the king would forbid me to play, and I
would bear whatever impression it might make against me in his mind. I
shall never console myself for being the cause of your troubles, and
I will not forget that cursèd _lansquenet_. All that I desire in the
world is to be a princess esteemed for my conduct; and that I will
endeavour to deserve in the future. I flatter myself that my age is
not too advanced, or my reputation too much tarnished, to enable me
with time to succeed.
VERSAILLES, January 2, 1708.
Here we are, my dear grandmother, at the beginning of another year,
which I hope may be as prosperous as you can desire it. It will be so
for me if you continue to love me; I ask it with all the respect and
tenderness I have for you.
We are much occupied here with a grand ball which will take place the
night before the Epiphany. I am prepared to amuse myself much. Every
day I practise getting my breath to dance well, which I think will be
very difficult, for I have absolutely forgotten how to do so, and I
have grown very heavy, which is not good for dancing.
VERSAILLES, April 2, 1708.
I have a great desire to know what you think of the portrait of my
son. His health is better and better, and he thrives on his new milk.
He begins to give me a good deal of pleasure, for he knows much and
has very amiable manners, which I hope will go on increasing.
MARLY, May 7, 1708.
I believe you have heard of the accident which happened to me, and
which has prevented me from writing sooner, my dear grandmother; but I
am now quite recovered and beginning to pick up my strength.[19]
FONTAINEBLEAU, July 5, 1708.
I am afraid, my dear grandmother, that if you have the same weather
that we do you will suffer from inflammation. There is not a day that
it does not rain and that causes great humidity. The milk I am taking
does me good, but if I come in late I have toothache during the night.
But my health is coming back to its usual state. You are very kind in
wishing to be informed of it; I feel all your kindnesses.
FONTAINEBLEAU, July 31, 1708.
The milk I have taken did not do me as much good as I hoped during
the time I took it; but since I left it off I think I am the better
for it. [It was probably asses' milk, a great remedy in those days.]
I have taken it with all possible regularity; for when I do take
remedies I do it thoroughly. My face is coming to itself, and I am
beginning to fatten, but I have to take great care to avoid the
twilight dampness.
[It was during this summer that the cabal of Vendôme, or as
Saint-Simon calls it, the cabal of Meudon, made its great attempt to
ruin the Duc de Bourgogne during the campaign in Flanders, and that
his wife proved her brave spirit in defending him. The princess's own
letters say nothing of all this; but a letter exists from the Duc de
Bourgogne to Mme. de Maintenon, who seems to have written to him to
counteract some attack upon his wife, which is as follows:--]
CAMP OF LOWENDEGHEM, August 27, 1708.
It is not very difficult to justify Madame la Duchesse de Bourgogne
to me as to matters on which I do not place entire faith, and I am
only too much inclined to be favourable to her in everything. But
the affection of which she has now given me such signal marks made
me apprehend that she might have gone a little too far in certain
speeches. I have already told her several times that I am satisfied
with what she has replied to me as to this, and my present fear is
that I may have pained her a little by what I wrote to her. I beg you
to tell her so once more, madame, and to make her see how charmed I
am with her affection and confidence. I flatter myself that I deserve
them, and I shall endeavour more and more to merit her esteem.
To-day is not the first time that I have known of persons at Court
who do not like her, and who see with annoyance the affection that
the king shows for her. I believe I am not ignorant of their names.
It will be for you, madame, when I see you, to enlighten me more
particularly, that proper precautions may be taken to save Madame la
Duchesse de Bourgogne from falling into certain very dangerous traps,
which I have often seen you dread. As for mischief-making, it would be
most unjust to accuse her of that; she sovereignly despises it, and
her spirit is far indeed from being what is called the woman's spirit.
She has assuredly a solid mind, much good sense, an excellent and
very noble heart--but you know her better than I, and this portrait is
useless. Perhaps the pleasure that I have in speaking of her prevents
me from perceiving that I do it too often and at too great length.