OF LOUIS XIV.
It is true that the late Madame was extremely unhappy; she confided too
much in people who betrayed her: she was more to be pitied than blamed,
being connected with very wicked persons, about whom I could give some
particulars. Young, pretty and gay, she was surrounded by some of the
greatest coquettes in the world, the mistresses of her bitterest foes,
and who sought only to thrust her into some unfortunate situation and to
embroil her with Monsieur. Madame de Coetquen was the Chevalier de
Lorraine’s mistress, although Madame did not know it; and she contrived
that the Marechal de Turenne should become attached to her. Madame
having told the Marshal all her secrets respecting the negotiations with
England, he repeated them to his mistress, Madame de Coetquen, whom he
believed to be devoted to his mistress. This woman went every night to
the Chevalier de Lorraine and betrayed them all. The Chevalier used this
opportunity to stir up Monsieur’s indignation against Madame, telling him
that he passed with the King for a simpleton, who could not hold his
tongue; that he would lose all confidence, and that his wife would have
everything in her own hand. Monsieur wished to know all the particulars
from Madame; but she refused to tell him her brother’s secrets, and this
widened the breach between them. She became enraged, and had the
Chevalier de Lorraine and his brother driven away, which in the end cost
her own life; she, however, died with the consciousness of never having
done her husband any harm. She was the confidante of the King, to whom
it had been hinted that it might be expedient to give some employment to
Monsieur, who might otherwise make himself beloved in the Court and in
the city. For this reason the King assisted Madame in her affairs of
gallantry, in order to occupy his brother. I have this from the King
himself. Madame was besides in great credit with her brother, Charles
II. (of England). Louis XIV. wished to gain him over through his sister,
wherefore it was necessary to take part with her, and she was always
better treated than I have been. The late Monsieur never suspected his
wife of infidelity with the King, her brother-in-law, he told me, all her
life, and would not have been silent with respect to this intrigue if he
had believed it. I think that with respect to this great injustice is
done to Madame. It would have been too much to deceive at once the
brother and the nephew, the father and the son.
The late Monsieur was very much disturbed at his wife’s coquetry; but he
dared not behave ill to her, because she was protected by the King.
The Queen-mother of England had not brought up her children well: she at
first left them in the society of femmes de chambre, who gratified all
their caprices; and having afterwards married them at a very early age,
they followed the bad example of their mother. Both of them met with
unhappy deaths; the one was poisoned, and the other died in child-birth.
Monsieur was himself the cause of Madame’s intrigue with the Comte de
Guiche. He was one of the favourites of the late Monsieur, and was said
to have been handsome once. Monsieur earnestly requested Madame to shew
some favour to the Comte de Guiche, and to permit him to wait upon her at
all times. The Count, who was brutal to every one else, but full of
vanity, took great pains to be agreeable to Madame, and to make her love
him. In fact, he succeeded, being seconded by his aunt, Madame de
Chaumont, who was the gouvernante of Madame’s children. One day Madame
went to this lady’s chamber, under the pretence of seeing her children,
but in fact to meet De Guiche, with whom she had an assignation. She had
a valet de chambre named Launois, whom I have since seen in the service
of Monsieur; he had orders to stand sentinel on the staircase, to give
notice in case Monsieur should approach. This Launois suddenly ran into
the room, saying, “Monsieur is coming downstairs.”
The lovers were terrified to death. The Count could not escape by the
antechamber on account of Monsieur’s people who were there. Launois
said, “I know a way, which I will put into practice immediately; hide
yourself,” he said to the Count, “behind the door.” He then ran his head
against Monsieur’s nose as he was entering, and struck him so violently
that he began to bleed. At the same moment he cried out, “I beg your
pardon, Monsieur, I did not think you were so near, and I ran to open you
the door.”
Madame and Madame de Chaumont ran in great alarm to Monsieur, and covered
his face with their handkerchiefs, so that the Comte de Guiche had time
to get out of the room, and escape by the staircase. Monsieur saw some
one run away, but he thought it was Launois, who was escaping through
fear. He never learnt the truth.
What convinces me of the late Madame’s innocence is that, after having
received the last sacraments, she begged pardon of Monsieur for all
disquiets she had occasioned, and said that she hoped to reach heaven
because she had committed no crime against her husband.
I think M. de Monmouth was much worse than the Comte de Guiche; because,
although a bastard, he was the son of Madame’s own brother; and this
incest doubled the crime. Madame de Thiange, sister of Madame de
Montespan, conducted the intrigue between the Duke of Monmouth and
Madame.
It is said here that Madame was not a beauty, but that she had so
graceful a manner as to make all she did very agreeable. She never
forgave. She would have the Chevalier de Lorraine dismissed; he was so,
but he was amply revenged of her. He sent the poison by which she was
destroyed from Italy by a nobleman of Provence, named Morel: this man was
afterwards given to me as chief maitre d’hotel, and after he had
sufficiently robbed me they made him sell his place at a high price.
This Morel was very clever, but he was a man totally void of moral or
religious principle; he confessed to me that he did not believe in
anything. At the point of death he would not hear talk of God. He said,
speaking of himself, “Let this carcass alone, it is now good for
nothing.” He would steal, lie and swear; he was an atheist and.....
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It is too true that the late Madame was poisoned, but without the
knowledge of Monsieur. While the villains were arranging the plan of
poisoning the poor lady, they deliberated whether they should acquaint
Monsieur with it or not. The Chevalier de Lorraine said “No, don’t tell
him, for he cannot hold his tongue. If he does not tell it the first
year he may have us hanged ten years afterwards;” and it is well known
that the wretches said, “Let us not tell Monsieur, for he would tell the
King, who would certainly hang us all.” They therefore made Monsieur
believe that Madame had taken poison in Holland, which did not act until
she arrived here.
[It is said that the King sent for the maitre d’hotel, and that,
being satisfied that Monsieur had not been a party to the crime, he
said, “Then I am relieved; you may retire.” The Memoirs of the day
state also that the King employed the Chevalier de Lorraine to
persuade Monsieur to obey his brother’s wishes.]
It appears, therefore, that the wicked Gourdon took no part in this
affair; but she certainly accused Madame to Monsieur, and calumniated and
disparaged her to everybody.
It was not Madame’s endive-water that D’Effial had poisoned; that report
must have been a mere invention, for other persons might have tasted it
had Madame alone drank from her own glass. A valet de chambre who was
with Madame, and who afterwards was in my service (he is dead now), told
me that in the morning, while Monsieur and Madame were at Mass, D’Effial
went to the sideboard and, taking the Queen’s cup, rubbed the inside of
it with a paper. The valet said to him, “Monsieur, what do you do in
this room, and why do you touch Madame’s cup?” He answered, “I am dying
with thirst; I wanted something to drink, and the cup being dirty, I was
wiping it with some paper.” In the afternoon Madame asked for some
endive-water; but no sooner had she swallowed it than she exclaimed she
was poisoned. The persons present drank some of the same water, but not
the same that was in the cup, for which reason they were not
inconvenienced by it. It was found necessary to carry Madame to bed.
She grew worse, and at two o’clock in the morning she died in great pain.
When the cup was sought for it had disappeared, and was not found until
long after. It seems it had been necessary to pass it through the fire
before it could be cleaned.
A report prevailed at St. Cloud for several years that the ghost of the
late Madame appeared near a fountain where she had been accustomed to sit
during the great heats, for it was a very cool spot. One evening a
servant of the Marquis de Clerambault, having gone thither to draw water
from the fountain, saw something white sitting there without a head. The
phantom immediately arose to double its height. The poor servant fled in
great terror, and said when he entered the house that he had seen Madame.
He fell sick and died. Then the captain of the Chateau, thinking there
was something hidden beneath this affair, went to the fountain some days
afterwards, and, seeing the phantom, he threatened it with a sound
drubbing if it did not declare what it was.
The phantom immediately said, “Ah, M. de Lastera, do me no harm; I am
poor old Philipinette.”
This was an old woman in the village, seventy-seven years old, who had
lost her teeth, had blear eyes, a great mouth and large nose; in short,
was a very hideous figure. They were going to take her to prison, but I
interceded for her. When she came to thank me I asked her what fancy it
was that had induced her to go about playing the ghost instead of
sleeping.
She laughed and said, “I cannot much repent what I have done. At my time
of life one sleeps little; but one wants something to amuse one’s mind.
In all the sports of my youth nothing diverted me so much as to play the
ghost. I was very sure that if I could not frighten folks with my white
dress I could do so with my ugly face. The cowards made so many grimaces
when they saw it that I was ready to die with laughing. This nightly
amusement repaid me for the trouble of carrying a pannier by day.”
If the late Madame was better treated than I was it was for the purpose
of pleasing the King of England, who was very fond of his sister.
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Madame de La Fayette, who has written the life of the late Madame, was
her intimate friend; but she was still more intimately the friend of M.
de La Rochefoucauld, who remained with her to the day of his death. It
is said that these two friends wrote together the romance of the
Princesse de Cloves.