Birth of the Duc d'Anjou.--The Present to the Mother.--The Casket of
Patience.--Departure of the King for the Army.--The King Turns a Deaf
Ear.--How That Concerns Madame de Maintenon.--The Prisoner of the
Bastille.--The Danger of Caricatures.--The Administrative
Thermometer.--Actors Who Can neither Be Applauded nor Hissed.--Relapse of
the Prisoner.--Scarron's Will.--A Fine Subject for Engraving.--Madame de
Maintenon's Opinion upon the Jesuits.--The Audience of the Green
Salon.--Portions from the Refectory.--Madame de Maintenon's Presence of
Mind.--I Will Make You Schoolmaster.
Madame la Dauphine, greatly pleased with her new position, in that she
represented the person of the Queen, had already given birth to M. le Duc
de Bourgogne; she now brought into the world a second son, who was at
once entitled Duc d'Anjou. The King, to thank her for this gift, made
her a present of an oriental casket, which could only be opened by a
secret spring, and that not before one had essayed it for half an hour.
Madame la Dauphine found in it a superb set of pearls and four thousand
new louis d'or. As she had no generosity in her heart, she bestowed no
bounties on her entourage. The King this year made an expedition to
Flanders. Before getting into his carriage he came and passed half an
hour or forty minutes with me, and asked me if I should not go and pass
the time of his absence at the Petit-Bourg.
"At Petit-Bourg and at Bourbon," I answered, "unless you allow me to
accompany you." He feigned not to have heard me, and said: "Lauzun, who,
eleven or twelve years ago, refused the baton of a marshal of France,
asks to accompany me into Flanders as aide-de-camp. Purge his mind of
such ideas, and give him to understand that his part is played out with
me."
"What business is it of mine," I asked with vivacity, "to teach M. de
Lauzun how to behave? Let Madame de Maintenon charge herself with these
homilies; she is in office, and I am there no longer."
These words troubled the King; he said to me:
"You will do well to go to Bourbon until my return from Flanders."
He left on the following day, and the same day I took my departure. I
went to spend a week at my little convent of Saint Joseph, where the
ladies, who thought I was still in favour, received me with marks of
attention and their accustomed respect. On the third day, the prioress,
announcing herself by my second waiting-woman, came to present me with a
kind of petition or prayer, which, I confess, surprised me greatly, as I
had never commissioned any one to practise severity in my name.
A man, detained at the Bastille for the last twelve years, implored me in
this document to have compassion on his sufferings, and to give orders
which would strike off his chains and irons.
"My intention," he said, "was not, madame, to offend or harm you. Artists
are somewhat feather-headed, and I was then only twenty." This petition
was signed "Hathelin, prisoner of State." I had my horses put in my
carriage at once, and betook myself to the chateau of the Bastille, the
Governor of which I knew.
When I set foot in this formidable fortress, in spite of myself I
experienced a thrill of terror.
The attentions of public men are a thermometer, which, instead of our own
notions, is very capable of letting us know the just degree of our
favour. The Governor of the Bastille, some months before, would have
saluted me with his artillery; perhaps he still received me with a
certain ceremony, but without putting any ardour into his politeness, or
drawing too much upon himself. In such circumstances one must see
without regarding these insults of meanness, and, by a contrivance of
distraction, escape from vile affronts. The object of my expedition
being explained, the Governor found on his register that poor Hathelin,
aged thirty-two to thirty-four years, was an engraver by profession. The
lieutenant-general of police had arrested him long ago for a comic or
satirical engraving on the subject of M. le Marquis de Montespan and the
King.
I desired to see Hathelin, quite determined to ask his pardon for all his
sufferings, with which I was going to occupy myself exclusively until I
was successful. The Governor, a man all formality and pride, told me
that he had not the necessary authority for this communication; I was
obliged to return to my carriage without having tranquillised my poor
captive.
The same evening I called upon the lieutenant-general of police, and,
after having eloquently pleaded the cause of this forgotten young man, I
discovered that there was no 'lettre de cachet' to his prejudice, and
procured his liberation.
He came to pay his respects and thanks to me, in my parlour at Saint
Joseph, on the very day of his liberation. He seemed to me much younger
than his age, which astonished me greatly after his misfortunes. I gave
him six thousand francs, in order to indemnify him slightly for that
horrible Bastille. At first he hesitated to take them.
"Let your captivity be a lesson to you," I said to him; "the affairs of
kings do not concern us. When such actors occupy the scene, it is
permissible neither to applaud nor to hiss."
Hathelin promised me to be good, and for the future to concern himself
only with his graver and his private business. He wished me a thousand
good wishes, with an expansion of heart which caused his tears and mine
to flow. But artists are not made like other men; he, for all his good
heart, was gifted with one of those ardent imaginations which make
themselves critics and judges of notable personages, and, above all, of
favourites of fortune. Barely five or six months had elapsed when
Hathelin published a new satirical plate, in which Madame de Maintenon
was represented as weeping, or pretending to weep, over the sick-bed of
M. Scarron. The dying man was holding an open will in his hand, in which
one could read these words: "I leave you my permission to marry again--a
rich and serious man--more so than I am."
The print had already been widely distributed when the engraver and his
plate were seized. This time Hathelin had not the honour of the
Bastille; he was sent to some depot. And although his action was
absolutely fresh and unknown to me, all Paris was convinced that I had
inspired his unfortunate talent. Madame de Maintenon was convinced of
it, and believes it still. The King has done me the honour to assure me
lately that he had banished the idea from his mind; but he was so
persuaded of it at first that he could not pardon me for so black an
intrigue, and, but for the fear of scandal, would have hanged the
engraver, Hathelin, in order to provide my gentlemen, the engravers, with
a subject for a fine plate.
About the same time, the Jesuits caused Madame de Maintenon a much more
acute pain than that of the ridiculous print. She endured this blow with
her accustomed courage; nevertheless, she conceived such a profound
aversion to the leaders of this ever-restless company, that she has never
been seen in their churches, and was at the greatest pains to rob them of
the interior of Saint Cyr. "They are men of intrigue," she said to
Madame de Montchevreuil, her friend and confidante. "The name of Jesus
is always in their mouths, he is in their solemn device, they have taken
him for their banner and namesake; but his candour, his humility are
unknown to them. They would like to order everything that exists, and
rule even in the palaces of kings. Since they have the privilege and
honour of confessing our monarch, they wish to impose the same bondage
upon me. Heaven preserve me from it! I do not want rectors of colleges
and professors to direct my unimportant conscience. I like a confessor
who lets you speak, and not those who put words into your mouth."
With the intention of mortifying her and then of being able to publish
the adventure, they charged one of their instruments to seek her out at
Versailles in order to ask an audience of her, not as a Jesuit, but as a
plain churchman fallen upon adversity.
The petition of this man having been admitted, he received a printed form
which authorised him to appear before madame at her time of good works,
for she had her regular hours for everything. He was introduced into the
great green salon, which was destined, as one knows, for this kind of
audience. There were many people present, and before all this company
this old fox thus unfolded himself:
"Madame, I bless the Sovereign Dispenser of all things for what he has
done for you; you have merited his protection from your tenderest youth.
When, after your return from Martinique, you came to dwell in the little
town of Niort, with your lady mother, I saw you often in our Jesuit
church, which was at two paces from your house. Your modesty, your
youth, your respectful tenderness towards Madame la Baronne d'Aubigne,
your excellent mother, attracted the attention of our community, who saw
you every day in the temple with a fresh pleasure, as you can well
imagine. Madame la Baronne died; and we learnt that those tremendous
lawsuits with the family not having been completed before her death, she
left you, and M. Charles, your brother, in the most frightful poverty. At
that news, our Fathers (who are so charitable, so compassionate) ordered
me to reserve every day, for the two young orphans, two large portions
from the refectory, and to bring them to you myself in your little
lodging.
"To-day, being no longer, owing to my health, in the congregation of the
Jesuit Fathers, I should be glad to obtain a place conformable with my
ancient occupations. My good angel has inspired me with the thought,
madame, to come and solicit your powerful protection and your good
graces."
Madame de Maintenon, having sustained this attack with fortitude, and it
was not without vigour, replied to the petitioner: "I have had the honour
of relating to his Majesty, not so very long ago, the painful and
afflicting circumstance which you have just recalled to me. Your
companions, for one fortnight, were at the pains to send to my little
brother and to me a portion of their food. Our relations; who enjoyed
all our property, had reduced us to indigence. But, as soon as my
position was ameliorated, I sent fifteen hundred francs to the Reverend
Father Superior of the Jesuits for his charities. That manner of
reimbursement has not acquitted me, and I could not see an unfortunate
man begging me for assistance without remembering what your house once
did for me. I do not remember your face, monsieur, but I believe your
simple assertion. If you are in holy orders I will recommend you to the
Archbishop of Rouen, who will find you a place suitable for you. Are you
in holy orders?"
"No, madame," replied the ex-Jesuit; "I was merely a lay brother."
"In that case," replied the Marquise, "we can offer you a position as
schoolmaster; and the Jesuit Fathers, if they have any esteem for you,
should have rendered you this service, for they have the power to do
that, and more."
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Always sold at a loss which must be sold at a given moment
Permissible neither to applaud nor to hiss
Respectful without servility
She awaits your replies without interruption
These liars in surplice, in black cassock, or in purple
Wish you had the generosity to show, now and again, less wit
You know, madame, that he generally gets everything he wants