To return now to what took place at Paris.
On Sunday, the 25th of December, Christmas Day, M. le Duc d'Orleans sent
for me to come and see him at the Palais Royal, about four o'clock in the
afternoon. I went accordingly, and after despatching some business with
him, other people being present, I followed him into his little winter
cabinet at the end of the little gallery, M. le Duc being present.
After a moment of silence, the Regent told me to see if no one was
outside in the gallery, and if the door at the end was closed. I went
out, found the door shut, and no one near.
This being ascertained, M. le Duc d'Orleans said that we should not be
surprised to learn that M. and Madame du Maine had been mixed up all
along with this affair of the Spanish Ambassador Cellamare; that he had
written proofs of this, and that the project was exactly that which I
have already described. He added, that he had strictly forbidden the
Keeper of the Seals, the Abbe Dubois, and Le Blanc, who alone knew of
this project, to give the slightest sign of their knowledge, recommended
to me the same secrecy, and the same precaution; and finished by saying
that he wished, above all things, to consult M. le Duc and me upon the
course he ought to adopt.
M. le Duc at once went to the point and said M. and Madame du Maine must
at once be arrested and put where they could cause no apprehension. I
supported this opinion, and showed the perilous annoyances that might
arise if this step were not instantly taken; as much for the purpose of
striking terror into the conspirators, as for disconcerting their
schemes. I added that there was not a moment to lose, and that it was
better to incur uncertain danger than to wait for that which was certain.
Our advice was accepted by M. le Duc d'Orleans, after some little debate.
But now the question arose, where are the prisoners to be put? The
Bastille and Vincennes both seemed to me too near to Paris. Several
places were named without one appearing to suit. At lasts M. le Duc
d'Orleans mentioned Dourlens. I stopped him short at the name, and
recommended it warmly. I knew the governor, Charost, and his son to be
men of probity, faithful, virtuous, and much attached to the state. Upon
this it was agreed to send M. du Maine to Dourlens.
Then we had to fix upon a place for his wife, and this was more
difficult; there were her sex, her fiery temper, her courage; her
daring,--all to be considered; whereas, her husband, we knew, so
dangerous as a hidden enemy, was contemptible without his mask, and would
fall into the lowest state of dejection in prison, trembling all over
with fear of the scaffold, and attempting nothing; his wife, on the
contrary, being capable of attempting anything:
Various places discussed, M. le Duc d'Orleans smiled, and proposed the
chateau of Dijon! Now, the joke of this suggestion was, that Dijon
belonged to M. le Duc, and that he was nephew of Madame du Maine, whom
the Regent proposed to lock up there! M. le Duc smiled also, and said it
was a little too bad to make him the gaoler of his aunt! But all things
considered, it was found that a better choice than Dijon could not be
made, so M. le Duc gave way. I fancy he had held out more for form's
sake than for any other reason. These points settled, we separated, to
meet another time, in order to make the final arrangements for the
arrest.
We met accordingly, the Monday and Tuesday following, and deliberated
with the same secrecy as before. On Wednesday we assembled again to put
the final touch to our work. Our conference was long, and the result of
it was, that M. and Madame du Maine were to be arrested on the morrow;
all the necessary arrangements were made, and, as we thought, with the
utmost secrecy. Nevertheless, the orders given to the regiment of the
guards, and to the musketeers somehow or other transpired during the
evening, and gave people reason to believe that something considerable
was in contemplation. On leaving the conference, I arranged with Le
Blanc that, when the blow was struck, he should inform me by simply
sending a servant to inquire after my health.
The morrow, about ten o'clock in the morning, having noiselessly and
without show placed the body-guard around Sceaux, La Billardiere,
lieutenant of the regiment, entered there, and arrested the Duc du Maine
as he was leaving his chapel after hearing mass, and very respectfully
begged him not to re-enter the house, but to mount immediately into a
coach which he had brought. M. du Maine, who had expected this arrest,
and who had had time to put his papers in order, mad not the slightest
resistance. He replied that he had anticipated this compliment for some
days, and at once moved into the coach. La Billardiere placed himself by
his side, and in front was an exempt of the bodyguards, and Favancourt,
brigadier in the first company of musketeers, destined to guard him in
his prison.
As these two latter persons did not appear before the Duc du Maine until
the moment he entered the coach, be appeared surprised and moved to see
Favancourt.
He would not have been at the exempt, but the sight of the other
depressed him. He asked La Billardiere what this meant. Billardiere
could not dissimulate that Favancourt had orders to accompany him, and to
remain with him in the place to which they were going. Favancourt
himself took this moment to pay his compliments as best he might to the
Duc du Maine, to which the Duke replied but little, and that in a civil
and apprehensive manner. These proceedings conducted them to the end of
the avenue of Sceaux, where the bodyguards appeared. The sight of them
made the Duc du Maine change colour.
Silence was but little interrupted in the coach. Now and then M. du
Maine would say that he was very innocent of the accusation which had
been formed against him; that he was much attached to the King, and not
less so to M. le Duc d'Orleans, who could not but recognise it; and that
it was very unfortunate his Royal Highness should put faith in his
enemies (he never named anybody). All this was said in a broken manner,
and amid many sighs; from time to time signs of the cross; low mumblings
as of prayers; and plunges at each church or each cross they passed. He
took his meals in the coach, ate very little, was alone at night, but
with good precautions taken. He did not know until the morrow that he
was going to Dourlens. He showed no emotion thereupon. All these
details I learnt from Favancourt, whom I knew very well, and who was in
the Musketeers when I served in that corps.
At the moment of the arrest of M. du Maine, Ancenis, captain of the body-
guard, arrested the Duchesse du Maine in her house in the Rue St.
Honore. A lieutenant, and an exempt of the foot body-guards, with other
troops, took possession of the house at the same time, and guarded the
doors. The compliment of the Duc d'Ancenis was sharply received. Madame
du Maine wished to take away some caskets. Ancenis objected. She
demanded, at the least, her jewels; altercations very strong on one side,
very modest on the other: but she was obliged to yield. She raged at the
violence done to a person of her rank, without saying anything too
disobliging to M. d'Ancenis, and without naming anybody. She delayed her
departure as long as she could, despite the instances of d'Ancenis, who
at last presented his hand to her, and politely, but firmly, said she
must go. She found at her door two six-horse coaches, the sight of which
much shocked her. She was obliged, however, to mount. Ancenis placed
himself by her side, the lieutenant and the exempt of the guard in front,
two chambermaids whom she had chosen were in the other coach, with her
apparel, which had been examined. The ramparts were followed, the
principal streets avoided; there was no stir, and at this she could not
restrain her surprise and vexation, or check a tear, declaiming by fits
and starts against the violence done her. She complained of the rough
coach, the indignity it cast upon her, and from time to time asked where
she was being led to. She was simply told that she would sleep at
Essonne, nothing more. Her three guardians maintained profound silence.
At night all possible precautions were taken. When she set out the next
day, the Duc d'Ancenis took leave of her, and left her to the lieutenant
and to the exempt of the body-guards, with troops to conduct her. She
asked where they were leading her to: he simply replied,
"To Fontainebleau." The disquietude of Madame du Maine augmented as she
left Paris farther behind, but when she found herself in Burgundy, and
knew at last she was to go to Dijon, she stormed at a fine rate.
It was worse when she was forced to enter the castle, and found herself
the prisoner of M. le Duc. Fury suffocated her. She raged against her
nephew, and the horrible place chosen for her. Nevertheless, after her
first transports, she returned to herself, and began to comprehend that
she was in no place and no condition to play the fury. Her extreme rage
she kept to herself, affected nothing but indifference for all, and
disdainful security. The King's lieutenant of the castle, absolutely
devoted to M. le Duc, kept her fast, and closely watched her and her
chambermaids. The Prince de Dombes and the Comte d'Eu (her sons) were at
the same time exiled to Eu, where a gentleman in ordinary always was near
them; Mademoiselle du Maine was sent to Maubuisson.
Several other people were successively arrested and placed either in the
Bastille or Vincennes. The commotion caused by the arrest and
imprisonment of M. and Madame du Maine was great; many faces, already
elongated by the Bed of justice, were still further pulled out by these
events. The Chief-President, D'Effiat, the Marechal de Villeroy, the
Marechal de Villars, the Marechal d'Huxelles, and other devoted friends
of M. du Maine, were completely terrified; they did not dare to say a
word; they kept out of the way; did not leave their houses except from
necessity; fear was painted upon their faces. All their pride was put
aside; they became polite, caressing, would have eaten out of your hand;
and by this sudden change and their visible embarrassment betrayed
themselves.
As for the Comte de Toulouse he remained as upright and loyal as ever.
The very day of the double arrest he came to M. le Duc d'Orleans and said
that he regarded the King, the Regent, and the State as one and the same
thing; that he should never be wanting in his duty or in his fidelity
towards them; that he was very sorry at what had happened to his brother,
but that he was in no way answerable for him. The Regent stated this to
me the same day, and appeared, with reason, to be charmed with such
straightforward honesty.
This arrest of M. and Madame du Maine had another effect. For some time
past, a large quantity of illicit salt had been sold throughout the
country. The people by whom this trade was conducted, 'faux sauniers',
as they were called, travelled over the provinces in bands well armed and
well organized. So powerful had they become that troops were necessary
in order to capture them. There were more than five thousand faux
saumers, who openly carried on their traffic in Champagne and Picardy.
They had become political instruments in the hands of others, being
secretly encouraged and commanded by those who wished to sow trouble in
the land. It could not be hidden that these 'faux sauniers' were
redoubtable by their valour and their arrangements; that the people were
favourable to them, buying as they did from them salt at a low price, and
irritated as they were against the gabelle and other imposts; that these
'faux sauniers' spread over all the realm, and often marching in large
bands, which beat all opposed to them, were dangerous people, who incited
the population by their examples to opposition against the government.
I had proposed on one occasion the abolition of the salt tax to the
Regent, as a remedy for these evils; but my suggestion shared the fate of
many others. It was favourably listened to, and nothing more. And
meanwhile the 'faux sauniers' had gone on increasing. I had no
difficulty in discovering by whom they were encouraged, and the event
showed I was right. Directly after the arrest of M. and Madame du Maine,
the 'faux sauniers' laid down their arms, asked, and obtained pardon.
This prompt submission showed dearly enough by whom they had been
employed, and for what reason. I had uselessly told M. le Duc d'Orleans
so long before, who admitted that I was right, but did nothing. It was
his usual plan.
Let me finish at once with all I shall have to say respecting M. and
Madame du Maine.
They remained in their prisons during the whole of the year 1719,
supplied with all the comforts and attentions befitting their state, and
much less rigorously watched than at first, thanks to the easy
disposition of M. le Duc d'Orleans, whose firmness yielded even more
rapidly than beauty to the effects of time. The consequence of his
indulgence towards the two conspirators was, that at about the
commencement of the following year, 1720, they began to play a very
ridiculous comedy, of which not a soul was the dupe; not even the public,
nor the principal actors, nor the Regent.
The Duc and Duchesse du Maine, thanks to the perfidy of the Abbe Dubois,
had had time to hide away all their papers, and to arrange together the
different parts they should play. Madame du Maine, supported by her sex
and birth, muffled herself up in her dignity, when replying to the
questions addressed to her, of which just as many, and no more, were read
to the replying counsel as pleased the Abbe Dubois; and strongly accusing
Cellamare and others; protected as much as possible her friends, her
husband above all, by charging herself with all; by declaring that what
she had done M. du Maine had no knowledge of; and that its object went no
farther than to obtain from the Regent such reforms in his administration
as were wanted.
The Duc du Maine, shorn of his rank and of his title of prince of the
blood, trembled for his life. His crimes against the state, against the
blood royal, against the person of the Regent, so long, so artfully, and
so cruelly offended, troubled him all the more because he felt they
deserved severe punishment. He soon, therefore, conceived the idea of
screening himself beneath his wife's petticoats. His replies, and all
his observations were to the same tune; perfect ignorance of everything.
Therefore when the Duchess had made her confessions, and they were
communicated to him, he cried out against his wife,--her madness, her
felony,--his misfortune in having a wife capable of conspiring, and
daring enough to implicate him in everything without having spoken to
him; making him thus a criminal without being so the least in the world;
and keeping him so ignorant of her doings, that it was out of his power
to stop them, to chide her, or inform M. le Duc d'Orleans if things had
been pushed so far that he ought to have done so!
From that time the Duc du Maine would no longer hear talk of a woman who,
without his knowledge, had cast him and his children into this abyss; and
when at their release from prison, they were permitted to write and send
messages to each other, he would receive nothing from her, or give any
signs of life. Madame du Maine, on her side, pretended to be afflicted
at this treatment; admitting, nevertheless, that she had acted wrongfully
towards her husband in implicating him without his knowledge in her
schemes. They were at this point when they were allowed to come near
Paris. M. du Maine went to live at Clagny, a chateau near Versailles,
built for Madame de Montespan. Madame du Maine went to Sceaux. They
came separately to see M. le Duc d'Orleans at Paris, without sleeping
there; both played their parts, and as the Abbe Dubois judged the time
had come to take credit to himself in their eyes for finishing their
disgrace, he easily persuaded M. le Duc d'Orleans to, appear convinced of
the innocence of M. du Maine.
During their stay in the two country-houses above named, where they saw
but little company, Madame du Maine made many attempts at reconciliation
with her husband, which he repelled. This farce lasted from the month of
January (when they arrived at Sceaux and at Clagny) to the end of July.
Then they thought the game had lasted long enough to be put an end to.
They had found themselves quit of all danger so cheaply, and counted so
much upon the Abbe Dubois, that they were already thinking of returning
to their former considerations; and to work at this usefully, they must
be in a position to see each other, and commence by establishing
themselves in Paris, where they would of necessity live together.
The sham rupture had been carried to this extent, that the two sons of
the Duc du Maine returned from Eu to Clagny a few days after him, did not
for a long time go and see Madame du Maine, and subsequently saw her but
rarely, and without sleeping under her roof.
At last a resolution being taken to put an end to the comedy, this is how
it was terminated by another.
Madame la Princesse made an appointment with the Duc du Maine, at
Vaugirard on the last of July, and in the house of Landais, treasurer of
the artillery. She arrived there a little after him with the Duchesse du
Maine, whom she left in her carriage. She said to M. du Maine she had
brought a lady with her who much desired to see him. The thing was not
difficult to understand; the piece had been well studied. The Duchesse
du Maine was sent for. The apparent reconcilement took place. The three
were a long time together. To play out the comedy, M. and Madame du
Maine still kept apart, but saw and approached each other by degrees,
until at last the former returned to Sceaux, and lived with his wife as
before.
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He was often firm in promises