PARIS, Friday, January 26, 1680.
I begin with the state of your health, as the subject nearest my heart.
It is without disparagement to this favorite idea, that I see and hear
what passes in the world. Events are more or less interesting to me
as they are more or less connected with you; even the attention I pay
to news springs from the same source. I find you well nursed, my dear
child, and kept in cotton. You are not in the whirlwind, so that I am
perfectly easy with regard to your quiet; but then I am by no means
so with respect to that heaviness, and those heats you are troubled
with; and then again that pain you endure, with no north-easterly
winds, or extraordinary fatigue to occasion it. I could wish to have
a little further information on this particular, which is of so much
importance to me. The care that is taken of you can not be wholly owing
to precaution, nor without good reason. I wish you may be sincere in
your resolution, no longer to destroy yourself with your writing-desk.
Confirm me, I beseech you, in my good opinion of you, and never again
write me such long letters, since Montgobert acquits herself so well
of the office; and, as I have already told you, may also save you the
trouble of dictating. I could wish, too, she would now and then add a
word or two of her own, relative to the state of your health.
I have at last received a letter from my son, who is at Nantes. He
was but twenty days on the road; he traveled only ninety leagues from
Brittany in the month of January, to spend the holidays, and without
one spark of love in his heart! I have written to him to take care
how he tells this story to others, and that, to save his reputation,
he ought to allege some flame, real or pretended; otherwise he would
appear more a Breton than the Bretons themselves. I have also entreated
him not to stay at Nantes, on account of my affairs; they are not a
plausible excuse, and I should be sorry to pass for so silly or so
covetous a being, as to prefer things which are of no consequence to
the necessity of his paying his attendance at court on such an occasion
as the present. He seems to me to be under some embarrassment; but
he will return soon enough to set out with M. de Chaulnes. Mark my
goodness, I have secured him a place in his carriage.
Madame de Soubise is no longer talked of; she even seems forgotten
already. In fact, there are a thousand other things to employ our
attention at present; and I am foolish enough myself to venture on
some other topic. For these two days it has been, as in the affair
of mademoiselle and M. de Lauzun, a constant bustle, sending to
learn the news, paying visits from house to house, to learn what is
passing; curiosity is on the stretch, and this is what has come out, in
expectation of the remainder.[159]
[159] La Voisin, La Vigoreux, and a priest of the name of Le
Sage, known at Paris as conjurers and casters of nativities,
added to this jugglery the secret practice of poisons, which
they denominated _succession powder_. They did not fail to
accuse those who applied to them for one thing, of having had
recourse to them for another. It is thus Marshal de Luxembourg
was exposed, by his intendant Bonard, for having made some
extravagant exorcism with Le Sage, for the purpose of recovering
his lost papers. The vindictive Louvois seized the opportunity to
ruin, or, at least, to torment him.
Besides the persons here named, Madame de Polignac was decreed to
be imprisoned, and Madame de la Ferté, as well as the Countess du
Roure, to be personally summoned.
The Countess de Soissons was accused of having poisoned her
husband; Madame d’Alluie, her father-in-law; Madame de Tingry,
her children; Madame de Polignac, a valet who was in possession
of her secret; and this secret was, that she wished to give the
king a charm, to make herself beloved by him.
The king gave the Duchess de Foix a note, written by her to La
Voisin, expressed in these terms, “The more I rub the less they
project.” He required an explanation. It alluded to a recipe to
increase the size of the bosom. She informed La Voisin that her
drug was ineffectual.
It may be supposed that La Voisin had many of these secrets for
the use of ladies.
M. de Luxembourg was at Saint Germain on Wednesday; the king frowned
on him more than usual; he was told there was a warrant issued to
apprehend him; he asked to be permitted to speak to the king; you
may conjecture what was said. The king told him that if he were
innocent, he had nothing to do but to throw himself voluntarily into
prison, and that he had appointed such upright judges to make inquiry
into affairs of this kind, that he left every thing to them. M. de
Luxembourg immediately took coach, and went to Father de la Chaise;
Mesdames de Lavardin and De Mouci met him as they were coming here,
in a very melancholy mood, in the Rue Saint Honoré; after passing an
hour at the convent of the Jesuits, he repaired to the Bastille, and
delivered to Barsemeaux[160] the order he brought from Saint Germain.
He was at first shown into a tolerably handsome chamber. Madame de
Meckelbourg[161] came there to visit him, and was almost drowned in
tears. About an hour after she left him, an order came to confine him
in one of those horrible places in the towers, of which the windows
are closed with iron bars, so as scarcely to admit the light of day,
and to suffer no one to see him. This, my child, is ample subject for
reflection; think of the brilliant fortune of such a man, raised to
the honor of commanding in chief the king’s armies, and then figure to
your self what his feelings must be on hearing those grating bolts shut
upon him, and, if it were possible for him to sleep, what his thoughts
must be when he awakes! No one thinks there has been any poison in his
affair. This is a misfortune that seems to obliterate every other.
[160] Governor of the Bastille.
[161] Sister of M. de Luxembourg, formerly Madame de Châtillon.
Madame de Tingres is summoned to give evidence on the trial. The
Countess de Soissons could not endure the thoughts of a prison; she
has been allowed time to make her escape, if she really is guilty. She
was playing at basset on the Wednesday when M. de Bouillon came in;
he begged her to step with him into the closet, where he told her she
must either leave France, or go to the Bastille; she was not long in
determining what to do. She immediately called the Marchioness d’Allure
from the card-table, and they have never appeared since. When the hour
of supper came, they were told the Countess supped in town; the whole
company broke up, thinking something very extraordinary had happened.
In the mean time, parcels are packed up, with money, jewels, etc.,
the male servants have gray liveries, and eight horses are put to the
carriage. She made the Marchioness d’Allure, who they say was unwilling
to go, sit behind, on the same side with her, and two female servants
in the front. She told her people not to be uneasy on her account, that
she was innocent, but that some vile women[162] had taken pleasure in
implicating her; she wept, called on Madame de Carignan, and left Paris
at three in the morning. It is said she is gone to Namur; you may be
sure nobody wants to follow her. She will, notwithstanding, be tried in
her absence, if it be only to clear her reputation to the world; there
is a great deal of detraction in what La Voisin says. It is believed
the Duke de Villeroy[163] is very much concerned at it; he keeps his
room, and sees nobody. Perhaps I may be able to tell you more before I
seal my letter.
[162] La Voisin and her associates in their witchcrafts, etc.
[163] Francis Neuville, afterward Marshal of France. He had
been the lover, and was the intimate friend, of the Countess de
Soissons.
Madame de Vibraye has fallen into the old train of devotion; God, as
you well remarked, would not suffer her to pass her whole life in the
company of her enemies. Madame de Buri turns her talking-mill with
very great address. If the princess is to be seen at Paris, Madame
de Vins wishes me to accompany her when she goes there. Pomenars has
been cut for the stone; did I not tell you so? I have seen him; it is
pleasant to hear him talk of the poisons; one is almost tempted to say
to him, “Is it possible this crime alone should be unknown to you?”
Volonne gives his opinion, without any hesitation, and wonders how any
one could hold a correspondence with these _vile women_. The Queen of
Spain is, in a manner, as much confined as M. de Luxembourg. Madame de
Villars wrote to Madame de Coulanges the other day, that were it not
for her love to M. de Villars, she would not have consented to pass
the winter at Madrid. She gives Madame de Coulanges many pleasant and
entertaining narratives, as she thinks they will go further.[164] I
am overjoyed to have the pleasure of perusing her letters, without
the trouble of answering them. Madame de Vins thinks as I do. M. de
Pomponne is gone to breathe the air of Pomponne, where he means to
stay three days; he has received all, and given up all; so that affair
is finished. It really pains me to hear him always asking, What news?
He is as much a stranger to what is passing as one living on the
banks of the Marne; he is in the right to make his mind as happy as
he can. Mine, as well as the abbé’s, was much affected at what you
wrote with your own hand; you did not feel it, my dear child, but it
was impossible to read it without tears. Good heavens! you pronounce
yourself as good for nothing, as an encumbrance to the earth; to one
who sees no object in existence but you! Think of the consequences your
talking thus may produce. I beseech you, never henceforth to say any
ill of your humor. Your heart and mind are too perfect to suffer such
light clouds to be perceived; be a little more tender of truth and
justice, as well as of the sole object of my vows and prayers. I shall
think myself really dead till I have the gratification of seeing you.
[164] Madame de Coulanges, passing her life at court, with Madame
de Maintenon, and even with Mademoiselle de Fontanges, could
easily report these agreeable narratives to the king.