Tranquillity reigns throughout the family of the unfortunate Fouquet.
It is said that M. de Nesmond declared on his death-bed, that his
greatest sorrow was that he had not excepted to these two judges; that
if he had lived to the end of the trial he would have repaired his
fault, and that he prayed God to pardon his error.
M. Fouquet, as I observed before, spoke to-day two complete hours, upon
the subject of the six millions; he commanded attention, and performed
wonders. Every one was affected in his way. Puissort made gestures of
disbelief and disapprobation, that shocked every honest man in court.
When M. Fouquet had done, M. Puissort rose impetuously, and said,
“Thank God, it can never be said that he has not had his bellyful of
speaking.” What say you to this speech? Was it not worthy of a judge?
It is said that the chancellor is very much alarmed at the erysipelas
that occasioned the death of M. de Nesmond, fearing there may be a
repetition of the judgment in store for himself. If the apprehension
could inspire him with the sentiments of a man about to appear before
God, it would be something; but it will be said of him, I fear, as of
Argante, _e mori come visse_;[277] he died as he lived.
[277] Gerusalemme Liberata, canto 19; the verse runs thus:
Moriva Argante, e tal moria qual visse.
Wednesday, December 3.
I have received your letter; it has proved to me that I have not
obliged a person who is ungrateful; nothing can be more kind, nothing
more gratifying. I must be wholly exempt from vanity to be insensible
to such praises. I assure you, I am delighted at the good opinion
you entertain of my heart, and I further assure you, without meaning
compliment for compliment, that my esteem for you infinitely surpasses
the power of ordinary language to express, and that I experience real
pleasure and consolation in being able to inform you of events in
which we are both so much interested. I am very glad your dear recluse
takes her part in them; I supposed you would make them known also to
your incomparable neighbor. You gratify me extremely in telling me
that I have made some progress in her heart; there is no one in whose
affections I would more gladly establish myself, and when I would
indulge in a little gayety, I think of her and her enchanted palace.
But I return to business, from which I have been insensibly led, to
tell you of the sentiments I entertain for yourself and your amiable
friend.
M. Fouquet was upon the sellette again to-day. The Abbé d’Effiat bowed
to him, as he passed. In returning his bow, he said to him, with the
same enchanting smile we have so often observed, “Sir, I am your very
humble servant.” The abbé was so much affected that he could not speak.
As soon as M. Fouquet was in the chamber, the chancellor desired him
to be seated. He replied, “Sir, you took advantage, yesterday, of my
placing myself upon the sellette: you infer from my doing so that I
acknowledge the authority of the court; as that is the case, I beg
leave to stand.” The chancellor then told him he might withdraw. M.
Fouquet replied, “I do not mean by this to advance any new objection;
I only wish to make my protestation, as usual, and, the charge being
cited against me, to be permitted to reply.”
This was agreed to. He then seated himself, and the examination
respecting the pension of the gabelles was resumed, to which he replied
admirably. If this mode continue, the interrogations will be favorable
to him. The spirit and firmness he displays are the subject of general
conversation at Paris. He has asked one thing of a friend which makes
me tremble: he has entreated him to let him know his sentence, whether
favorable or otherwise, in some private way, by signal, the instant it
is pronounced, that he may have time to reconcile himself to his fate
before it be announced to him officially; adding, that if he has half
an hour to prepare himself, he shall hear without emotion the worst
that can be told him. This has made me weep, and I am certain it will
affect you also very painfully.
There were few persons at the examination, on account of the queen’s
illness; she was supposed to be dying, but is now somewhat better.
Yesterday evening she received the viaticum. It was the most affecting
and solemn spectacle that can be imagined, to see the king and the
whole court going for the holy sacrament, and conducting it to the
palace. It was received with a profusion of lights. The queen made an
effort to rise, and took it with a devotion that reduced every one
to tears. It was not without difficulty that she had been brought to
consent; the king was the only one who could make her listen to reason;
to every other person she said that she was very willing to receive the
communion, but not the viaticum; it was full two hours before she could
be prevailed upon.
The general approbation that is given to M. Fouquet’s answers, is very
grating to Petit.[278] It is even thought he will engage Puis*** to
feign illness, in order to interrupt the torrent of admiration, and to
have time himself to take breath at this, and other instances of his
ill success. I am the most obedient servant of the dear recluse, of
your lady, and the adorable Amalthée.
[278] Petit is a feigned name, meant either for Le Tellier or
Colbert. With regard to Puis***, as, from the sense of the
expressions, he must be one of the judges against Fouquet, there
is little doubt that Puissort is the person alluded to; and what
is said of him in the preceding Letters must be so understood.
It may further be remarked that the conduct of Colbert and Le
Tellier, in this business, was extremely well characterized by
a criticism of the great Turenne, who interested himself warmly
for Fouquet. To some one who blamed the violence of Colbert, and
praised the moderation of Le Tellier, Turenne replied, “True,
sir; M. Colbert has most desire that he should be hanged, and M.
Le Tellier most fear lest he should not be.”