Madame de Montespan's Father-confessor.--He Alters His Opinion.--Madame
de Maintenon Is Consulted.--A General on Theology.--A Country
Priest.--The Marquise Postpones Her Repentance and Her Absolution.
My father-confessor, who since my arrival at Court had never vexed or
thwarted me, suddenly altered his whole manner towards me, from which I
readily concluded that the Queen had got hold of him. This priest, of
gentle, easy-going, kindly nature, never spoke to me except in a tone of
discontent and reproach. He sought to induce me to leave the King there
and then, and retire to some remote chateau. Seeing that he was
intriguing, and had, so to speak, taken up his position, like a woman of
experience I took up mine as well, and politely dismissed him, at which
he was somewhat surprised. In matters of religion, Madame de Maintenon,
who understands such things, was my usual mentor. I told her that I was
disheartened, and should not go to confession again for ever so long. She
was shocked at my resolve, and strove all she could to make me change my
mind and endeavour to lead me back into the right way.
She forever kept repeating her favourite argument, saying, "Good
gracious! suppose you should die in that state!"
I replied that it was not my fault, as I had never ceased to obey the
precepts of the Holy Church. "It was my old father-confessor," said I,
"the Canon of Saint Thomas du Louvre, who had harshly refused to confess
me."
"What he does," replied she, "is solely for your own good."
"But if he has only my well-being in view," I quickly retorted, "why did
not he think of this at first? It would have been far better to have
stopped me at the outset, instead of letting me calmly proceed upon my
career. He is obeying the Queen's orders, or else those of that Abbe
Bossuet de Mauleon, who no longer dares attack me to my face."
As we thus talked, the Duc de Vivonne came into my room. Learning the
topic of our discussion, he spoke as follows: "I should not be general of
the King's Galleys and a soldier at heart and by profession if my opinion
in this matter were other than it is. I have attentively read
controversies on this point, and have seen it conclusively proved that
our kings never kept a confessor at Court. Among these kings, too, there
were most holy, most saintly people, and--"
"Then, what do you conclude from that, Duke?" asked Madame de Maintenon.
"Why, that Madame will do well to respect his Majesty the King as her
father-confessor."
"Oh, Duke, you shock me! What dreadful advice, to be sure!" cried the
governess.
"I have not the least wish to shock you, madame; but my veneration for
D'Aubigne--your illustrious grandfather--is too great to let me think that he is
among the damned, and he never attended confession at all."
[Theodore Agrippa, Baron d'Aubigne, lieutenant-general in the army of
Henri IV. He persevered in Calvinism after the recantation of the
King.--EDITOR'S NOTE.]
"Eternity hides that secret from us," replied Madame de Maintenon. "Each
day I pray to God to have mercy upon my poor grandfather; if I thought he
were among the saved, I should never be at pains to do this."
"Bah, madame! let's talk like sensible, straightforward people," quoth
the General. "The reverend Pere de la Chaise--one of the Jesuit
oracles--gives the King absolution every year, and authorises him to
receive the Holy Sacrament at Easter. If the King's confessor--thorough
priest as he is--pardons his intimacy with madame, here, how comes it
that the other cleric won't tolerate madame's intimacy with the King? On
a point of such importance as this, the two confessors ought really to
come to some agreement, or else, as the Jesuits have such a tremendous
reputation, the Marquise is entitled to side with them."
Hemmed in thus, Madame de Maintenon remarked "that the morals of Jesuits
and lax casuists had never been hers," and she advised me to choose a
confessor far removed from the Court and its intrigues.
The next day she mentioned a certain village priest to me, uninfluenced
by anybody, and whose primitive simplicity caused him to be looked upon
as a saint.
I submitted, and ingenuously went to confess myself to this wonderful
man; his great goodness did not prevent him from rallying me about the
elegance of my costume, and the perfume of my gloves, and my hair. He
insisted upon knowing my name, and on learning it, flew into a passion. I
suppress the details of his disagreeable propositions. Seated sideways
in his confessional, he stamped on the floor, abused me, and spoke
disrespectfully of the King. I could not stand such scandalous behaviour
for long; and, wearing my veil down, I got into my coach, being
thoroughly determined that I would take a good long holiday. M. de
Vivonne soundly rated me for such cowardice, as he called it, while
Madame de Maintenon offered me her curate-in-chief, or else the Abbe
Gobelin.
But, for the time being, I determined to keep to my plan of not going to
confession, strengthened in such resolve by my brother Vivonne's good
sense, and the attitude of the King's Jesuit confessor, who had a great
reputation and knew what he was about.