GRIGNAN, March, 1696.
I know not how the affairs of England go on; the Countess de Fiesque is
the only one who has a good opinion of them, and is still certain that
they will end well. I have taken three meals at the Marsans’, which
agree very well with me; I shall put their whole family into my basket.
M. de Marsan always reminds his wife that she is no longer Madame de
Seignelai; and that, being only Madame de Marsan, she must accommodate
herself to all his friends, of whatever form or rank, and let every
one live after his own way. I am to go on Saturday to Saint Martin’s,
and to-morrow I shall go to Versailles, to condole with my friend, and
pass the day with Mesdames de Villeroi and Mademoiselle de Bouillon,
whom I shall find there. Madame de Guise has ordered her funeral to be
conducted without ceremony, and has preferred the burial-ground of the
Carmelites of the great convent, to all the pomp of Saint Denis, with
the kings her ancestors. She was only forty-nine years of age. Father
de la Ferté will preach again on Wednesday; and on Friday, without
saying a word, he will set off for Canada. If he were not to take his
departure in this way, it would cause a tumult, he is so much liked by
the populace; the Church of the Jesuits was too small for the multitude
which crowded to his sermons.
I have just been dining at the Hôtel de Chaulnes, where I met the
Marquis de Grignan; he can tell you that I was not in a very ill
humor. Madame (La maréchale) de Villeroi yesterday announced to Madame
de Saint-Géran the death of her husband; and the duke has taken upon
himself the charge of the funeral this evening. He will probably be
the privileged creditor on the inheritance, for he will advance, no
doubt, what is necessary for the ceremony. This is all I know, madam;
I, therefore, conclude, and take leave of you till my return from Saint
Martin’s, which will be when it pleases God. Madame de Coulanges is
free from the colic; she only complains that she has sometimes the
_little colic_, which does not prevent her from eating and drinking,
and associating with the young. She is very partial to the Chevalier
de Bouillon and Count d’Albret, and she was delighted to meet M. de
Marsan again, with whom she has renewed a snuff acquaintance. Winter
is come back within these two days: it has snowed and frozen in such a
manner, that we must expect no apricots; I fear the peaches also will
suffer. Madame de Frontenac has a violent cold and fever; the fashion
of dying alarms us for her. Our poor D’Enclos has also a slow fever,
which returns slightly every evening, with a sore throat, that makes
her friends uneasy; in short, I very much fear that the work of death
is not at an end.