St. Hélène, Puissort, Gisaucourt, Feriol, Nogués,
Heraut, Poncet, Père Seguier, The Chancellor.
Saturday.
Fall on your knees, sir, and return thanks to God; the life of our poor
friend is saved. Thirteen were of M. d’Ormesson’s opinion, and nine of
Sainte-Hélène’s. I am almost wild with joy.
Sunday evening.
I was sadly afraid some other person would have the pleasure of
communicating to you the joyful tidings. My courier was not very
diligent; he said, on setting out, that he would sleep no where but
at Livri; he assures me, however, he was the first that arrived.
Heavens! how gratifying must the intelligence have been to you! How
inconceivably sweet are the moments that relieve the heart on a sudden
from the anguish of so painful a suspense! It will be a long time
before I shall lose the joy I received yesterday. It was, in reality,
too great--too much, almost, for me to bear. The poor man learned the
news by signals, a few moments after judgment was pronounced, and I
dare say felt it in all its extent. This morning the king sent the
Chevalier du Guet to the mother and wife of M. Fouquet, recommending
them both to go to Montluçon in Auvergne, the marquis and Marchioness
of Charost to Ancenis, and the young Fouquet to Joinville in Champagne.
The good old lady sent word to the king that she was seventy-two years
of age; that she besought his majesty not to deprive her of her only
remaining son, the support of her life, which apparently was drawing
near its close. The prisoner does not yet know his sentence. It is said
he will be taken, to-morrow, to Pignerol, for the king has changed
his banishment into imprisonment. His wife, contrary to all rule, is
not permitted to see him. But let not this proceeding abate the least
particle of your joy; mine, if possible, is increased; for I see in
this more clearly the greatness of our victory. I shall faithfully
relate to you the sequel of this curious history. I have given you what
has passed to-day; the rest to-morrow.
Tuesday evening.
This morning, at ten o’clock, M. Fouquet was conducted to the chapel of
the Bastille. Foucault held the sentence in his hand. “You must tell me
your name, sir,” said he, “that I may know whom I address.” M. Fouquet
replied, “You know very well who I am; and as for my name, I will not
give it here, as I refused to give it at the chamber of justice; by
the same rule, also, I protest against the sentence you are going to
read to me.” What passed being written down, Foucault put on his hat
and read the sentence; M. Fouquet heard it uncovered. Pecquet and
Lavalée[284] were afterward separated from him, and the cries and tears
of these poor men melted every heart that was not of iron; they made so
strange a noise that M. d’Artagnan was obliged to go and comfort them;
for it seemed to them as if a sentence of death had just been read to
their master. They were both lodged in the Bastille, and it is not
known what will be done with them.
[284] His physician and his servant.
M. Fouquet went to the apartment of M. d’Artagnan: while he was there,
he saw M. d’Ormesson, who came for some papers that were in the hands
of M. d’Artagnan, pass by the window. On perceiving him, M. Fouquet
saluted him with an open countenance, expressive of joy and gratitude;
he even cried out to him that he was his humble servant. M. d’Ormesson
returned the salutation with very great civility, and came with grief
of heart to tell me what had passed.
At eleven o’clock a coach was ready, into which M. Fouquet entered,
with four guards. M. d’Artagnan was on horseback with fifty
musqueteers; he will escort him to Pignerol, where he will leave him
in prison, in the care of a man of the name of St. Mars, who is a very
honest fellow: he will have fifty soldiers to guard his prisoner. I do
not know whether another servant has been allowed our friend; you can
form no idea how cruel the circumstance of taking Pecquet and Lavalée
from him appears to every one: some even go so far as to draw dreadful
inferences from it. May God preserve him, as he has hitherto done: in
him we must put our trust, and leave our friend to the protection of
that Providence which has been so gracious to him. They still refuse
him his wife, but have permitted the mother to remain at Parc, with
the abbess her daughter. L’Ecuyer will follow his sister-in-law;
he has declared that he has no other means of subsistence. M. and
Madame de Charost are going immediately to Ancenis. M. Bailly, the
attorney-general, has been turned out of office, for having said to
Gisaucourt, before judgment was pronounced, that he ought to retrieve
the honor of the Grand Council, which would be disgraced if C***,
Poncet, and himself acted together in the business. I am sorry for this
upon your account: it is a rigorous measure. _Tantæne animis cœlestibus
iræ?_[285]
[285] Virgil’s Æneid, lib. i.
But no, it does not mount so high as that. Such harsh and low revenge
can not proceed from a heart like that of our monarch’s. His name is
employed, and, as you see, profaned. I will let you know the rest: how
much better could we converse upon these things! it is impossible to
communicate by letter all we have to say. Adieu, my dear sir, I have
not so much modesty as you, and, without taking refuge in the crowd,
I assure you I love and esteem you highly. I have seen the comet;
its train is of a beautiful length. I partly found my hopes on it. A
thousand compliments to your dear wife.
Tuesday.
I send you something to amuse you for a few minutes. You will certainly
find it worth reading. It is charity to entertain you both in your
solitude. If the friendship I bear the father and the son were a remedy
against dullness, it is an evil of which you would never have to
complain. I am just come from a place where, it seems, I have renewed
this sentiment, by talking of you with five or six persons, male and
female, who, like me, rank themselves among your friends; it was at the
Hôtel de Nevers. Your wife was of the party; she will tell you of the
delightful little comedians we met there. I believe our dear friend is
arrived, but I have had no certain intelligence. It is only known that
M. d’Artagnan, continuing his obliging manners, gave him the necessary
fur clothing, that he might pass the mountains without inconvenience.
I know also that M. d’Artagnan has received letters from the king,
and that he told M. Fouquet to keep up his spirits and his courage,
and that every thing would go well. We are always looking forward to
some mitigation, and I in particular: hope has been too kind for me to
abandon it. Whenever I see the king at our ballets, these two lines of
Tasso come into my head:
Goffredo ascolta, e in rigida sembianza
Porge piu di timor che di speranza.[286]
[286] Godfrey attends, and with a brow severe
But little gives to hope, and much to fear.
Hoole’s Translation.
But I care not to despond: we must follow the example of our poor
prisoner; he is tranquil and gay; let us be so too. It will give me
real pleasure to see you here. I can not think your exile will be of
long duration. Assure your good father of my affection; I can not help
expressing myself thus; and let me know your opinion of the stanzas.
Some of them are admired, as well as some of the couplets.