In 1670 the King wished to make a triumphant journey with the ladies,
under pretext of visiting his possessions in Flanders, accompanied by an
army, and by all his household troops, so that the alarm was great in the
Low Countries, which he took no pains to appease. He gave the command of
all to Lauzun, with the patent of army-general. Lauzun performed the
duties of his post with much intelligence, and with extreme gallantry and
magnificence. This brilliancy, and this distinguished mark of favour,
made Louvois, whom Lauzun in no way spared, think very seriously. He
united with Madame de Montespan (who had not pardoned the discovery
Lauzun had made, or the atrocious insults he had bestowed upon her), and
the two worked so well that they reawakened in the King's mind
recollections of the broken sword, the refusal in the Bastille of the
post of captain of the guards, and made his Majesty look upon Lauzun as a
man who no longer knew himself, who had suborned Mademoiselle until he
had been within an inch of marrying her, and of assuring to himself
immense wealth; finally, as a man, very dangerous on account of his
audacity, and who had taken it into his head to gain the devotion of the
troops by his magnificence, his services to the officers, and by the
manner in which he had treated them during the Flanders journey, making
himself adored. They made him out criminal for having remained the
friend of, and on terms of great intimacy with, the Comtesse de Soissons,
driven from the Court and suspected of crimes. They must have accused
Lauzun also of crimes which I have never heard of, in order to procure
for him the barbarous treatment they succeeded in subjecting him to.
Their intrigues lasted all the year, 1671, without Lauzun discovering
anything by the visage of the King, or that of Madame de Montespan. Both
the King and his mistress treated him with their ordinary distinction and
familiarity. He was a good judge of jewels (knowing also how to set them
well), and Madame de Montespan often employed him in this capacity. One
evening, in the middle of November, 1671, he arrived from Paris, where
Madame de Montespan had sent him in the morning for some precious stones,
and as he was about to enter his chamber he was arrested by the Marechal
de Rochefort, captain of the guards.
Lauzun, in the utmost surprise, wished to know why, to see the King or
Madame de Montespan--at least, to write to them; everything was refused
him. He was taken to the Bastille, and shortly afterwards to Pignerol,
where he was shut up in a low-roofed dungeon. His post of captain of the
body-guard was given to M. de Luxembourg, and the government of Berry to
the Duc de la Rochefoucauld, who, at the death of Guitz, at the passage
of the Rhine, 12th June, 1672, was made grand master of the wardrobe.
It may be imagined what was the state of a man like Lauzun, precipitated,
in a twinkling, from such a height to a dungeon in the chateau of
Pignerol, without seeing anybody, and ignorant of his crime. He bore up,
however, pretty well, but at last fell so ill that he began to think
about confession. I have heard him relate that he feared a fictitious
priest, and that, consequently, he obstinately insisted upon a Capuchin;
and as soon as he came he seized him by the beard, and tugged at it,
as hard as he could, on all sides, in order to see that it was not a sham
one! He was four or five years in his gaol. Prisoners find employment
which necessity teaches them. There ware prisoners above him and at the
side of him. They found means to speak to him. This intercourse led
them to make a hole, well hidden, so as to talk more easily; then to
increase it, and visit each other.
The superintendent Fouquet had been enclosed near them ever since
December, 1664. He knew by his neighbours (who had found means of seeing
him) that Lauzun was under them. Fouquet, who received no news, hoped
for some from him, and had a great desire to see him. He, had left
Lauzun a young man, dawning at the Court, introduced by the Marechal de
Grammont, well received at the house of the Comtesse de Soissons, which
the King never quitted, and already looked upon favourably. The
prisoners, who had become intimate with Lauzun, persuaded him to allow
himself to be drawn up through their hole, in order to see Fouquet in
their dungeon. Lauzun was very willing. They met, and Lauzun began
relating, accordingly, his fortunes and his misfortunes, to Fouquet. The
unhappy superintendent opened wide his ears and eyes when he heard this
young Gasepan (once only too happy to be welcomed and harboured by the
Marechal de Grammont) talk of having been general of dragoons, captain of
the guards, with the patent and functions of army-general! Fouquet no
longer knew where he was, believed Lauzun mad, and that he was relating
his visions, when he described how he had missed the artillery, and what
had passed afterwards thereupon: but he was convinced that madness had
reached its climax, and was afraid to be with Lauzun, when he heard him
talk of his marriage with Mademoiselle, agreed to by the King, how
broken, and the wealth she had assured to him. This much curbed their
intercourse, as far as Fouquet was concerned, for he, believing the brain
of Lauzun completely turned, took for fairy tales all the stories the
Gascon told him of what had happened in the world, from the imprisonment
of the one to the imprisonment of the other.
The confinement of Fouquet was a little relieved before that of Lauzun.
His wife and some officers of the chateau of Pignerol had permission to
see him, and to tell him the news of the day. One of the first things he
did was to tell them of this poor Puyguilhem, whom he had left young, and
on a tolerably good footing for his age, at the Court, and whose head was
now completely turned, his madness hidden within the prison walls; but
what was his astonishment when they all assured him that what he had
heard was perfectly true! He did not return to the subject, and was
tempted to believe them all mad together. It was some time before he was
persuaded.
In his turn, Lauzun was taken from his dungeon, and had a chamber, and
soon after had the same liberty that had been given to Fouquet; finally,
they were allowed to see each other as much as they liked. I have never
known what displeased Lauzun, but he left Pignerol the enemy of Fouquet,
and did him afterwards all the harm he could, and after his death
extended his animosity to his family.
During the long imprisonment of Lauzun, Madame de Nogent, one of his
sisters, took such care of his revenues that he left Pignerol extremely
rich.
Mademoiselle, meanwhile, was inconsolable at this long and harsh
imprisonment, and took all possible measures to deliver Lauzun. The King
at last resolved to turn this to the profit of the Duc du Maine, and to
make Mademoiselle pay dear for the release of her lover. He caused a
proposition to be made to her, which was nothing less than to assure to
the Duc du Maine, and his posterity after her death, the countdom of Eu,
the Duchy of Aumale, and the principality of Domfes! The gift was
enormous, not only as regards the value, but the dignity and extent of
these three slices. Moreover, she had given the first two to Lauzun,
with the Duchy of Saint-Forgeon, and the fine estate of Thiers, in
Auvergne, when their marriage was broken off, and she would have been
obliged to make him renounce Eu and Aumale before she could have disposed
of them in favour of the Duc du Maine. Mademoiselle could not, make up
her mind to this yoke, or to strip Lauzun of such considerable benefits.
She was importuned to the utmost, finally menaced by the ministers, now
Louvois, now Colbert. With the latter she was better pleased, because he
had always been on good terms with Lauzun, and because he handled her
more gently than Louvois, who, an enemy of her lover, always spoke in the
harshest terms. Mademoiselle unceasingly felt that the King did not like
her, and that he had never pardoned her the Orleans journey, still less
her doings at the Bastille, when she fired its cannons upon the King's
troops, and saved thus M. le Prince and his people, at the combat of the
Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Feeling, therefore, that the King, hopelessly
estranged from her, and consenting to give liberty to Lauzun only from
his passion for elevating and enriching his bastards, would not cease to
persecute her until she had consented--despairing of better terms, she
agreed to the gift, with the most bitter tears and complaints. But it
was found that, in order to make valid the renunciation of Lauzun, he
must be set at liberty, so that it was pretended he had need of the
waters of Bourbon, and Madame de Montespan also, in order that they might
confer together upon this affair.
Lauzun was taken guarded to Bourbon by a detachment of musketeers,
commanded by Maupertuis. Lauzun saw Madame de Montespan at Bourbon; but
he was so indignant at the terms proposed to him as the condition of his
liberty, that after long disputes he would hear nothing more on the
subject, and was reconducted to Pignerol as he had been brought.
This firmness did not suit the King, intent upon the fortune of his well-
beloved bastard. He sent Madame de Nogent to Pignerol; then Borin (a
friend of Lauzun, and who was mixed up in all his affairs), with menaces
and promises. Borin, with great trouble, obtained the consent of Lauzun,
and brought about a second journey to Bourbon for him and Madame de
Montespan, with the same pretext of the waters. Lauzun was conducted
there as before, and never pardoned Maupertuis the severe pedantry of his
exactitude. This last journey was made in the autumn of 1680. Lauzun
consented to everything. Madame de Montespan returned triumphant.
Maupertuis and his musketeers took leave of Lauzun at Bourbon, whence he
had permission to go and reside at Angers; and immediately after, this
exile was enlarged, so that he had the liberty of all Anjou and Lorraine.
The consummation of the affair was deferred until the commencement of
February, 1681, in order to give him a greater air of liberty. Thus
Lauzun had from Mademoiselle only Saint-Forgeon and Thiers, after having
been on the point of marrying her, and of succeeding to all her immense
wealth. The Duc du Maine was instructed to make his court to
Mademoiselle, who always received him very coldly, and who saw him take
her arms, with much vexation, as a mark of his gratitude, in reality for
the Sake of the honour it brought him; for the arms were those of Gaston,
which the Comte de Toulouse afterwards took, not for the same reason, but
under pretext of conformity with his brother; and they have handed them
down to their children.
Lauzun, who had been led to expect much more gentle treatment, remained
four years in these two provinces, of which he grew as weary as was
Mademoiselle at his absence. She cried out in anger against Madame de
Montespan and her son; complained loudly that after having been so
pitilessly fleeced, Lauzun was still kept removed from her; and made such
a stir that at last she obtained permission for him to return to Paris,
with entire liberty; on condition, however, that he did not approach
within two leagues of any place where the King might be.
Lauzun came, therefore, to Paris, and assiduously visited his
benefactors. The weariness of this kind of exile, although so softened,
led him into high play, at which he was extremely successful; always a
good and sure player, and very straightforward, he gained largely.
Monsieur, who sometimes made little visits to Paris, and who played very
high, permitted him to join the gambling parties of the Palais Royal,
then those of Saint-Cloud. Lauzun passed thus several years, gaining and
lending much money very nobly; but the nearer he found himself to the
Court, and to the great world, the more insupportable became to him the
prohibition he had received.
Finally, being no longer able to bear it, he asked the King for
permission to go to England, where high play was much in vogue. He
obtained it, and took with him a good deal of money, which secured him an
open-armed reception in London, where he was not less successful than in
Paris.
James II., then reigning, received Lauzun with distinction. But the
Revolution was already brewing. It burst after Lauzun had been in
England eight or ten months. It seemed made expressly for him, by the
success he derived from it, as everybody is aware. James II., no longer
knowing what was to become of him--betrayed by his favourites and his
ministers, abandoned by all his nation, the Prince of Orange master of
all hearts, the troops, the navy, and ready to enter London--the unhappy
monarch confided to Lauzun what he held most dear--the Queen and the
Prince of Wales, whom Lauzun happily conducted to Calais. The Queen at
once despatched a courier to the King, in the midst of the compliments of
which she insinuated that by the side of her joy at finding herself and
her son in security under his protection, was her grief at not daring to
bring with her him to whom she owed her safety.
The reply of the King, after much generous and gallant sentiment, was,
that he shared this obligation with her, and that he hastened to show it
to her, by restoring the Comte de Lauzun to favour.
In effect, when the Queen presented Lauzun to the King, in the Palace of
Saint-Germain (where the King, with all the family and all the Court,
came to meet her), he treated him as of old, gave him the privilege of
the grandes entrees, and promised him a lodging at Versailles, which he
received immediately after. From that day he always went to Marly, and
to Fontainebleau, and, in fact, never after quitted the Court. It may be
imagined what was the delight of such an ambitious courtier, so
completely re-established in such a sudden and brilliant manner. He had
also a lodging in the chateau of Saint-Germain, chosen as the residence
of this fugitive Court, at which King James soon arrived.
Lauzun, like a skilful courtier, made all possible use of the two Courts,
and procured for himself many interviews with the King, in which he
received minor commissions. Finally, he played his cards so well that
the King permitted him to receive in Notre Dame, at Paris, the Order of
the Garter, from the hands of the King of England, accorded to him at his
second passage into Ireland the rank of lieutenant-general of his
auxiliary army, and permitted at the same time that he should be of the
staff of the King of England, who lost Ireland during the same campaign
at the battle of the Boyne. He returned into France with the Comte de
Lauzun, for whom he obtained letters of the Duke; which were verified at
the Parliament in May, 1692. What a miraculous return of fortune! But
what a fortune, in comparison with that of marrying Mademoiselle, with
the donation of all her prodigious wealth, and the title and dignity of
Duke and Peer of Montpensier. What a monstrous pedestal! And with
children by this marriage, what a flight might not Lauzun have taken, and
who can say where he might have arrived?