The Page-Dauphin.--A Billet from the King.--Madame de Maintenon's
Letter.--The King as Avenger.--His Sentence on the Murderers.
The great liberty which we enjoyed at Fontevrault, compared with the
interminable bondage of Saint Germain or Versailles, made the abbey ever
seem more agreeable to me; and Madame de Thianges asked me in sober
earnest "if I no longer loved the King."
"Of course I do," was my answer; "but may one not love oneself just a
little bit, too? To me, health is life; and I assure you, at
Fontevrault, my dear sister, I sleep most soundly, and have quite got rid
of all my nervous attacks and headaches."
We were just talking thus when Madame de Mortemart entered my room, and
introduced young Chamilly, the Page-Dauphin,--[The chief page-in-waiting
bore the title of Page-Dauphin]--who brought with him a letter from the
King. He also had one for me from Madame de Maintenon, rallying me upon
my absence and giving me news of my children. The King's letter was
quite short, but a king's note such as that is worth a whole pile of
commonplace letters. I transcribe it here:
I am jealous; an unusual thing for me. And I am much vexed, I confess,
with Madame de Mortemart, who might have chosen a very different moment
to be ill. I am ignorant as to the nature of her malady, but if it be
serious, and of those which soon grow more dangerous, she has played me a
very sorry trick in sending for you to act as her nurse or her physician.
Pray tell her, madame, that you are no good whatever as a nurse, being
extremely hasty and impatient in everything; while as regards medical
skill, you are still further from the mark, since you have never yet been
able to understand your own ailments, nor even explain these with the
least clearness. I must ask the Abbess momentarily to suspend her
sufferings and come to Versailles, where all my physicians shall treat
her with infinite skill; and, to oblige me, will cure her, as they know
how much I esteem and like her. Farewell, my ladies three, who in your
friendship are but as one. I should like to be there to make a fourth.
Madame de Maintenon, who loves you sincerely, will give you news of your
little family and of Saint Germain. Her letter and mine will be brought
to you and delivered by the young Comte de Chamilly. Send him back to me
at once, and don't let him, see your novices or your nuns, else he will
not want to return to me. LOUIS.
Madame de Maintenon's letter was not couched in the same playfully
mocking tone; though a marquise, she felt the distance that there was
between herself and me; besides, she always knows exactly what is the
proper thing to do. The Abbess, who is an excellent judge, thought this
letter excellently written. She wanted to have a copy of it, which made
me determine to preserve it. Here it is, a somewhat more voluminous
epistle than that of the King:
I promised you, madame, that I would inform you as often as possible of
all that interests you here, and now I keep my promise, being glad to say
that I have only pleasant news to communicate. His Majesty is
wonderfully well, and though annoyed at your journey, he has hardly lost
any of his gaiety, as seemingly he hopes to have you back again in a day
or two.
Mademoiselle de Nantes declares that she would have behaved very well in
the coach, and that she is a nearer relation to you than the Duchesse de
Nevers, and that it was very unfair not to take her with you this time.
In order to comfort her, the Duc du Maine has discovered an expedient
which greatly amuses us, and never fails of its effect. He tells her how
absolutely necessary it is for her proper education that she should be
placed in a convent, and then adds in a serious tone that if she had been
taken to Fontevrault she would never have come back!
"Oh, if that is the case," she answered, "why, I am not jealous of the
Duchesse de Nevers."
The day after your departure the Court took up its quarters at Saint
Germain, where we shall probably remain for another week. You know,
madame, how fond his Majesty is of the Louis Treize Belvedere, and the
telescope erected by this monarch,--one of the best ever made hitherto.
As if by inspiration, the King turned this instrument to the left towards
that distant bend which the Seine makes round the verge of the Chatou
woods. His Majesty, who observes every thing, noticed two bathers in the
river, who apparently were trying to teach their much younger companion,
a lad of fourteen or fifteen, to swim; doubtless, they had hurt him, for
he got away from their grasp, and escaped to the river-bank, to reach his
clothes and dress himself. They tried to coax him back into the water,
but he did not relish such treatment; by his gestures it was plain that
he desired no further lessons. Then the two bathers jumped out of the
river, and as he was putting on his shirt, dragged him back into the
water, and forcibly held him under till he was drowned.
When they had committed this crime, and their victim was murdered, they
cast uneasy glances at either river-bank, and the heights of Saint
Germain. Believing that no one had knowledge of their deed, they put on
their clothes, and with all a murderer's glee depicted on their evil
countenances, they walked along the bank in the direction of the castle.
The King instantly rode off in pursuit, accompanied by five or six
musketeers; he got ahead of them, and soon turned back and met them.
"Messieurs," said he to them, "when you went away you were three in
number; what have you done with your comrade?" This question, asked in a
firm voice, disconcerted them somewhat at first, but they soon replied
that their companion wanted to have a swim in the river, and that they
had left him higher up the stream near the corner of the forest, close to
where his clothes and linen made a white spot on the bank.
On hearing this answer the King gave orders for them to be bound and
brought back by the soldiery to the old chateau, where they were shut up
in separate rooms. His Majesty, filled with indignation, sent for the
High Provost, and recounting to him what took place before his eyes,
requested him to try the culprits there and then. The Marquis, however,
is always scrupulous to excess; he begged the King to reflect that at
such a great distance, and viewed through a telescope, things might have
seemed somewhat different from what they actually were, and that, instead
of forcibly holding their companion under the water, perhaps the two
bathers were endeavouring to bring him to the surface.
"No, monsieur, no," replied his Majesty; "they dragged him into the river
against his will, and I saw their struggles and his when they thrust him
under the water."
"But, Sire," replied this punctilious personage, "our criminal law
requires the testimony of two witnesses, and your Majesty, all-powerful
though you be, can only furnish that of one."
"Monsieur," replied the King gently, "I authorise you in passing sentence
to state that you heard the joint testimony of the King of France and the
King of Navarre."
Seeing that this failed to convince the judge, his Majesty grew impatient
and said to the old Marquis, "King Louis IX., my ancestor, sometimes
administered justice himself in the wood at Vincennes; I will to-day
follow his august example and administer justice at Saint Germain."
The throne-room was at once got ready by his order. Twenty notable
burgesses of the town were summoned to the castle, and the lords and
ladies sat with these upon the benches. The King, wearing his orders,
took his seat when the two prisoners were placed in the dock.
By their contradictory statements, ever-increasing embarrassment, and
unveracious assertions, the jury were soon convinced of their guilt. The
unhappy youth was their brother, and had inherited property from their
mother, he being her child by a second husband. So these monsters
murdered him for revenge and greed. The King sentenced them to be bound
hand and foot, and flung into the river in the selfsame place "where they
killed their young brother Abel."
When they saw his Majesty leaving his throne, they threw themselves at
his feet, implored his pardon, and confessed their hideous crime. The
King, pausing a moment, thanked God that their conscience had forced such
confession from them, and then remitted the sentence of confiscation
only. They were executed before the setting of that sun which had
witnessed their crime, and the next day, that is, yesterday evening, the
three bodies, united once more by fate, were found floating about two
leagues from Saint Germain, under the willows at the edge of the river
near Poisay.
Orders were instantly given for their separate interment. The youngest
was brought back to Saint Germain, where the King wished him to have a
funeral befitting his innocence and untimely fate. All the military
attended it.
Forgive me, madams, for all these lengthy details; we have all been so
much upset by this dreadful occurrence, and can talk of nothing else,--in
fact, it will furnish matter for talk for a long while yet.
I sincerely hope that by this time Madame de Mortsmart has completely
recovered. I agree with his Majesty that, in doctoring, you have not had
much experience; still, friendship acts betimes as a most potent
talisman, and the heart of the Abbess is of those that in absence pines,
but which in the presence of some loved one revives.
She has deigned to grant me a little place in her esteem; pray tell her
that this first favour has somewhat spoiled me, and that now I ask for
more than this, for a place in her affections. Madame de Thianges and
Madame de Nevers are aware of my respect and attachment for them, and
they approve of this, for they have engraved their names and crests on my
plantain-trees at Maintenon. Such inscriptions are a bond to bind us,
and if no mischance befall, these trees, as I hope, will survive me.
I am, madame, etc., MAINTENON.