CHAPTER IX.

THE REVOCATION OF THE EDICT OF NANTES.

1680-1686

Character of Madame de Maintenon.--Depression of the

dauphiness.--Pere la Chaise.--The Edict of Nantes.--The Catholic

clergy indignant.--Ravaillac.--Confirmation of the Edict of

Nantes.--La Rochelle.--Sufferings of the Huguenots.--Policy of

Louis.--Influence of Madame de Maintenon.--Religious zeal of the

king.--False-hearted.--Persecution of the Protestants.--Severe

measures to force proselytism.--The _dragonnades_.--Moral suasion

of the dragoons.--Brutality of the soldiery.--Enactments of

intolerance.--Zeal of the king.--The revocation of the Edict of

Nantes.--Severe enactments against the Protestants.--Flight of the

Protestants.--Numbers of the emigrants.--Scenes of suffering.--Louis

alarmed.--Historical accounts of the emigration.--Multiplied

outrages.--Reactions.--Secret assemblies.--Rage of the Jesuits.--New

measures of the court.--Remonstrances of honorable

Catholics.--Intrigues of the king.--Madame de Montespan to be

removed.--Banishment of Madame de Montespan.--Parterre of

Versailles.--A successful mission.--Egotism and heartlessness of the

king.--Singular interview.--The king defends Madame de Maintenon's

character.--Scene of frenzy and despair.--Madame de Maintenon and

Madame de Montespan.

It is the undisputed testimony of all the contemporaries of Madame de

Maintenon that she possessed a character of rare excellence. Her

personal attractions, sound judgment, instinctive delicacy of

perception, and conversational brilliance, gave her a certain

supremacy wherever she appeared. The fidelity with which she fulfilled

her duties, her high religious principles, and the bold, yet tender

remonstrances with which she endeavored to reclaim the king from his

unworthy life, excited first his astonishment, and then his profound

admiration.

Every day the king, at three o'clock, proceeded to the apartments of

Madame de Maintenon, and, taking a seat in an arm-chair, sat in a

reclining posture, sometimes silently watching the progress of her

tapestry-work, and again engaged in quiet conversation. Occasionally

some of Racine's tragedies were read. The king took a listless

pleasure in drawing out Madame de Maintenon to remark upon the merits

or defects of the production.

"In truth, a weariness of existence was rapidly growing upon Louis

XIV. He had outlived his loves, his griefs, and almost his ambition.

All he wanted was repose. And this he found in the society of an

accomplished, judicious, and unassuming woman, who, although he

occasionally transacted business in her presence with Louvois, never

presumed to proffer an opinion save when he appealed to her judgment,

and even then tendered it with reluctance and reserve."[R]

[Footnote R: Louis XIV. and the Court of France, by Miss Pardoe, vol.

ii., p. 339.]

Upon the death of the queen the dauphiness was raised to the first

rank at court. Still she was gloomy and reserved. No allurements could

draw her from her retirement. Madame de Maintenon was a very decided

Roman Catholic, and was very much influenced by the king's confessor,

Pere la Chaise, who seems to have been a man of integrity and of

conscientiousness, though fanatically devoted to what he deemed to be

the interests of the Church. In former reigns the Protestants had

endured from the Catholics the most dreadful persecutions. After

scenes of woe, the recital of which causes the blood to curdle in

one's veins, Henry IV., the grandfather of Louis XIV., feeling the

need of the support of the Protestants to protect the kingdom from the

perils by which it was surrounded, and having himself been educated a

Protestant, granted the Protestants the world-renowned Edict of

Nantes.

By this edict, which took its name from the place in which it was

published, and which was issued in April, 1598, certain privileges

were granted to the Protestants, which, in that dark age, were

regarded as extraordinarily liberal.

Protestants were allowed liberty of conscience; that is, they were not

to be punished for their religious faith. In certain designated places

they were permitted to hold public worship. The highest lords of the

Protestant faith could celebrate divine service in their castles.

Nobles of the second rank could have private worship, provided but

thirty persons attended. Protestants were declared to be eligible to

offices of state, their children were to be admitted to the public

schools, their sick to the hospitals, and their poor to the public

charities. In certain places they could publish books; they were

allowed four academies for scientific and theological instruction, and

were permitted to convoke synods for Church discipline.

The Catholic clergy were very indignant in view of these concessions.

Pope Clement VIII. declared that the ordinance which permitted liberty

of conscience to every one was the most execrable which was ever

made.[S]

[Footnote S: History of the Protestants of France, by Professor G. de

Felice, p. 275.]

There were then seven hundred and sixty churches in France of the

Protestant communion. No such church was allowed in Paris. Protestants

from the city, rich and poor, were compelled to repair, for public

worship, to the little village of Ablon, fifteen miles from the city.

The Edict of Nantes probably cost Henry IV. his life. The assassin

Ravaillac, who plunged his dagger twice into the bosom of the king,

said, in his examination,

"I killed the king because, in making war upon the pope, he made war

upon God, since the pope is God."

The Protestants were thrown into the utmost consternation by the death

of Henry IV. They apprehended the immediate repeal of the edict, and

a renewal of the massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day. But the regent,

Mary de Medici, and the court immediately issued a decree confirming

the ordinance. Louis XIII. was then a child but eight and a half years

of age. As he came into power, he was urged by the Jesuits to

exterminate the Protestants. But they were too powerful to be wantonly

assailed. They held two hundred fortified places. Many of the highest

lords were among their leaders. Their soldiers were renowned for

valor, and their churches numbered four hundred thousand men capable

of bearing arms. It was not deemed safe to rouse such a people to the

energies of despair. Still, during the reign of Louis XIII., there

were many bloody conflicts between the royal troops and the

Protestants.

In this religious war, the Protestants, or Huguenots, as they were

then called, defended themselves so valiantly, that the king felt

constrained, in October, 1622, to relinquish his attempt to subjugate

the Protestants by force of arms, and to confirm the Edict of Nantes.

The sword was scarcely sheathed ere it was drawn again. All over

France the Catholics and Protestants faced each other upon fields of

blood. The battle raged for seven years with every conceivable

concomitant of cruelty and horror. The eyes of all Europe were

directed to the siege of La Rochelle, in 1627, where the Huguenots

made their most decisive stand. All that human nature could suffer was

endured. When two thirds of the population of the city had perished,

and the streets and dwellings were encumbered with the unburied dead,

and the remaining soldiers, reduced to skeletons, could no longer lift

their weapons, the city surrendered on the 28th of October, 1628.

By this war and the fall of La Rochelle, the Protestants were

hopelessly weakened. Though they were deprived of many of their

privileges, and were greatly diminished in numbers and influence,

still the general provisions of the Edict of Nantes were not repealed.

In the year 1662, Louis XIV., then upon the throne, in recognition of

some support which he had received from the Protestants, issued a

decree in which he said,

"Inasmuch as our subjects of the pretended Reformed religion have

given us proofs of their affection and fidelity, be it known that,

for these reasons, they shall be supported and guarded, as in fact we

do support and guard them, in the full enjoyment of the Edict of

Nantes."

The king had even appointed, the year before, two commissaries, the

one a Catholic, the other a Protestant, to visit every province, and

see that the requisitions of the Edict of Nantes were faithfully

observed. This seemed very fair. But, in appointing these

commissioners, a Catholic was always appointed who was a high

dignitary of the state, a man of wealth and rank, distinguished for

his devotion to the interests of the Catholic Church. On the other

hand, the Protestant was always some poor country gentleman, timid and

irresolute, and often one who had been secretly sold to the court to

betray his duties.

The Protestants had hoped much from the influence of Madame de

Maintenon over the king, as she was the granddaughter of Agrippa

d'Aubigne, one of the most illustrious defenders of the Calvinistic

faith, and as she herself had been a Protestant until she had attained

the age of sixteen years.

But the king was fanatically Catholic, hoping, in some measure, to

atone for his sins by his supreme devotion to the interests of the

Church. Madame de Maintenon found it necessary, in promotion of her

ambitious plans, to do all in her power to conceal her Protestant

origin. She was fully aware of the king's great dislike to the

Protestants, and of the necessity of cordially co-operating with him

in these views. Still she could not refrain from manifesting some

compassion at times for the sufferings of the friends of her earlier

years.

Louis XIV., while assuring the Protestant powers of Europe that he

would continue to respect the Edict of Nantes, commenced issuing a

series of ordinances in direct opposition to that contract. First he

excluded Protestants from all public offices whatever. A Protestant

could not be employed as a physician, lawyer, apothecary, bookseller,

printer, or even as a nurse. This decree was issued in 1680. In some

portions of the kingdom the Protestants composed nearly the entire

population. Here it was impossible to enforce the atrocious decree. In

other places it led to riots and bloodshed.

This ordinance was followed by one forbidding marriages between

Catholics and Protestants. Catholic servants were forbidden to serve

in Protestant families, and Protestant servants could not be employed

by Catholics.

Rapidly blow followed blow. On the 17th of June, 1680, the king issued

the following ordinance: "We wish that our subjects of the pretended

Reformed religion, both male and female, having attained the age of

seven years, may, and it is hereby made lawful for them to embrace the

Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion, and that to this effect they be

allowed to abjure the pretended Reformed religion, without their

fathers and mothers and other kinsmen being allowed to offer them the

least hinderance, under any pretext whatever."

The effect of this law was terrible. Any malignant person, even a

servant, could go into a court of justice and testify that a certain

child had made the sign of the cross, or kissed an image of the

Virgin, or had expressed a desire to enter the Catholic Church, and

that child was immediately taken from its parents, shut up in a

convent, and the parents were compelled to pay the expenses of its

education. Even Madame de Maintenon availed herself of this law in

wresting from her relative, the Marquis de Vilette, his children.

A decree was then issued that all Protestants who should become

Catholics might defer the payment of their debts for three years, and

for two years be exempt from taxation, and from the burden of having

soldiers quartered upon them. To save the treasury from loss, a double

burden of taxation and a double quartering of soldiers was imposed

upon those Protestants who refused to abjure their faith.

If any Protestant was sick, officers were appointed whose duty it was

to visit the sick-bed, and strive to convert the sufferer to the

Catholic faith. Any physician who should neglect to give notice of

such sickness was punished by a severe fine. The pastors were

forbidden to make any allusions whatever in their sermons to these

decrees of the court. Following this decree came the announcement that

if any convert from Catholicism should be received into a Protestant

Church, his property should be confiscated, he should be banished, and

the privilege of public worship should no longer be enjoyed by that

Church. Under this law several church edifices were utterly

demolished.

One of the severest measures adopted against the Protestants was

quartering brutal and ferocious soldiers in their families. In March,

1681, Louvois wrote to the governor of Poitou that he intended to send

a regiment of cavalry into that province.

"His majesty," he said, "has learned with much satisfaction the great

number of persons who are becoming converts in your province. He

desires that you continue to give great care to this matter. He thinks

it best that the chief part of the cavalry and officers should be

lodged in the houses of the Protestants. If, after a just

distribution, the Calvinists would have to provide for ten soldiers,

you can make them take twenty."

The governor, Marillac, lodged from four to ten dragoons in the house

of every Protestant. The soldiers were directed not to kill the people

with whom they lodged, but to do every thing in their power to

constrain them to abjure Protestantism. Thus originated that system of

_dragonnades_ which has left an indelible stain upon the character of

Louis XIV., and the recital of which has inspired every reader with

horror.

"The cavalry attached crosses to the muzzles of their muskets to force

the Protestants to kiss them. When any one resisted, they thrust

these crosses against the face and breasts of the unfortunate people.

They spared children no more than persons advanced in years. Without

compassion for their age, they fell upon them with blows, and beat

them with the flat side of their swords and the butt of their muskets.

They did this so cruelly that some were crippled for life."[T]

[Footnote T: Histoire de l'Edit de Nantes, t. iv., p. 479.]

It does not reflect credit upon Madame de Maintenon that she was eager

to enrich her friends from the spoils of these persecuted Christians.

Her brother was to receive a present of one hundred and eight thousand

francs ($21,600). This sum was then three or four times as much as the

same amount of money now.

A law was now passed prohibiting the Protestants from leaving the

kingdom, and condemning to perpetual imprisonment in the galleys all

who should attempt to escape. France was ransacked to find every book

written in support of Protestantism, that it might be burned. A

representation having been made to the king of the sufferings of more

than two millions of Protestant Frenchmen, he sternly replied,

"To bring back all my subjects to Catholic unity, I would readily,

with one hand, cut off the other."

In some places the Protestants were goaded to an appeal to arms. With

the most merciless butchery they were cut down, their houses razed,

while some were put to death by lingering torture. In September, 1685,

Louvois wrote,

"Sixty thousand conversions have taken place in the district of

Bordeaux, and twenty thousand in that of Montauban. The rapidity with

which they go on is such that, before the end of the month, there will

not remain ten thousand Protestants in all the district of Bordeaux,

where there were one hundred and fifty thousand the 15th of last

month."

The Duke of Noailles wrote to Louvois, "The number of Protestants in

the district of Nismes is about one hundred and forty thousand. I

believe that at the end of the month there will be none left."

On the 18th of October, 1685, the king, acceding to the wishes of his

confessor and other high dignitaries of the Church, signed the

_Revocation of the Edict of Nantes_.

In the preamble to this fatal act, it was stated,

"We see now, with the just acknowledgment we owe to God, that our

measures have secured the end which we ourselves proposed, since the

better and greater part of our subjects of the pretended Reformed

religion have embraced the Catholic faith, and the maintenance of the

Edict of Nantes remains therefore superfluous."

In this act of revocation it was declared that the exercise of the

Protestant worship should nowhere be tolerated in the realm of France.

All Protestant pastors were ordered to leave the kingdom within

fifteen days, under pain of being sent to the galleys. Those

Protestant ministers who would abjure their faith and return to

Catholicism were promised a salary one third more than they had

previously enjoyed. Parents were forbidden to instruct their children

in the Protestant religion. Every child in the kingdom was to be

baptized and educated by a Catholic priest. All Protestants who had

left France were ordered to return within four months, under penalty

of the confiscation of their possessions. Any Protestant layman, man

or woman, who should attempt to emigrate, incurred the penalty of

imprisonment for life.

This infamous ordinance caused an amount of misery which can never be

gauged, and inflicted upon the prosperity of France the most terrible

blow it had ever received. Hundreds of thousands persevered in their

faith, notwithstanding all the menaces of poverty, of the dungeon, and

of utter temporal ruin. Only one year after the revocation, Marshal

Vauban wrote,

"France has lost one hundred thousand inhabitants, sixty millions of

coined money, nine thousand sailors, twelve thousand disciplined

soldiers, six hundred officers, and her most nourishing manufactures."

From this hour the fortunes of Louis XIV. began manifestly to decline.

The Protestant population of France at that time was between two and

three millions. The edict of revocation was enforced with the utmost

severity. Many noble-hearted Catholics sympathized with the

Protestants in their dreadful sufferings, and aided them to escape.

The tide of emigration flowed steadily from all the provinces. The

arrival of the pastors and their flocks upon foreign soil created an

indescribable sensation. From all the courts in Protestant Christendom

a cry of indignation rose against such cruelty. Though royal guards

were posted at the gates of the towns, on the bridges, at the fords

of the rivers, and upon all the by-ways which led to the frontiers,

and though many thousands were arrested, still many thousands escaped.

Some heroic bands fought their way to the frontiers with drawn swords.

Some obtained passports from kind-hearted Catholic governors. Some

bribed their guards. Some traveled by night, from cavern to cavern, in

the garb of merchants, pilgrims, venders of rosaries and chaplets,

servants, mendicants.

Thousands perished of cold, hunger, and exhaustion. Thousands were

shot by the soldiers. Thousands were seized and condemned to the

dungeon or the galleys. The galleys of Marseilles were crowded with

these victims of fanatical despotism. Among them were many of the most

illustrious men in France, magistrates, nobles, scholars of the

highest name and note.

The agitation and emigration were so immense that Louis XIV. became

alarmed. Protestant England, Switzerland, Holland, Prussia, Denmark,

Sweden, hospitably received the sufferers and contributed generously

to the supply of their wants. "Charity," it is said, "draws from an

exhaustless fountain. The more it gives the more it has to give."

It is now not possible to estimate the precise number who emigrated.

Voltaire says that nearly fifty thousand families left the kingdom,

and that they were followed by a great many others. One of the

Protestant pastors, Antoine Court, placed the number as high as eight

hundred thousand. A Catholic writer, inimical to the Protestants,

after carefully consulting the records, states the emigration at two

hundred and thirty thousand souls. Of these, 1580 were pastors, 2300

elders, and 15,000 nobles. It is also equally difficult to estimate

the numbers who perished in the attempt to escape. M. de Sismondi

thinks that as many died as emigrated. He places the number at between

three and four hundred thousand.

As we have mentioned, the Protestants were compelled to place their

children in Catholic schools, to be taught the Catechism by the

priests. A new ordinance was soon issued, which required that the

children, between five and sixteen, of all _suspected_ of

Protestantism, should be taken from their parents and placed in

Catholic families. A general search was made throughout the kingdom

for all books which could be deemed favorable to the Protestant

faith. These were destroyed to the last copy. Thus perished many very

valuable works. "The Bible itself, the Bible above all, was

confiscated and burned with persevering animosity."[U]

[Footnote U: History of the Protestants of France, by Prof. G. De

Felice.]

But there is no power of persecution which can utterly crush out two

or three millions of people. There were occasional reactions. Louis

XIV. himself became, at times, appalled by the atrocities his dragoons

were perpetrating, and he commanded more moderation. In some of the

provinces where the Protestants had been greatly in the majority, the

king found it very difficult to enforce his despotic and sanguinary

code. The persecuted people who could not fly from the kingdom, some

having given a compulsory and nominal assent to Catholicism, held

secret assemblies in forests, on mountain summits, and in wild

ravines. Some of the pastors ventured to return to France, and to

assist in these scenes of perilous worship.

"On hearing this, the king, his ministers, and the Jesuits were

transported with uncontrollable rage. Sentence of death was

pronounced in the month of July, 1686, against the pastors who had

returned to France. Those who lent them an asylum, or any assistance

whatever, were condemned to the galleys for life. A reward of five

thousand five hundred livres was promised to any one who seized or

secured the seizure of a minister. The sentence of death was

pronounced against all who should be taken in any of these religious

assemblies."[V]

[Footnote V: M. G. De Felice.]

Soldiers were sent in all directions to hunt the Protestants. "It

was," writes Voltaire, "a chase in a grand cover." If the voice of

prayer or of a psalm were heard in any wild retreat, the soldiers

opened fire upon the assembly of men, women, and children, and hewed

them down without mercy with their blood-stained swords. In several of

these encounters, three or four hundred men, women, and young children

were left dead and unburied upon the spot.

If any sick persons, apparently near death, refused to receive the

sacraments of the Catholic Church from the hands of a Catholic priest,

should they recover, they were punished with confiscation of property

and consignment to the galleys for life. If they did not recover,

their bodies were refused respectful burial, and were dragged on a

hurdle and thrown into a ditch, to be devoured by carrion crows.

Many honorable Catholics cried out with horror against these

enormities. All humane hearts revolted against such cruelty. The voice

of indignant remonstrance rose from every Protestant nation. The

French court became embarrassed. Two millions of people could not be

put to death. The prisons were filled to suffocation. The galleys were

crowded, and could receive no more. Many were transported to America.

The Jansenists remonstrated. The good Catholic bishops of Grenoble and

St. Poins boldly addressed the curates of their dioceses, directing

them not to force communion upon the Protestants, and forbidding all

violence. Many pious curates refused to act the part of accusers, or

to torment the dying with their importunities. But the Jesuits and the

great mass of the clergy urged on the persecution.

Madame de Maintenon became greatly troubled by these atrocities,

against which she did not dare to remonstrate. Louis XIV. was somewhat

alarmed by the outcry which these measures aroused from Protestant

Europe, but his pride revolted against making the admission, before

his subjects and foreign courts, that he could have been guilty of a

mistake. He could not endure the thought of humbling himself by a

retraction, thus confessing that he had failed in an enterprise upon

which he had entered with such determination. Thus influenced, the

king, on the 13th of April, 1662, issued a decree solemnly confirming

the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. "Not one law of torture and

blood was abolished."

The king, meanwhile, urged by his growing passion for Madame de

Maintenon, determined to remove from court Madame de Montespan, whom

he had come to thoroughly dislike. But he had not the courage to

announce his determination in person. He therefore commissioned Madame

de Maintenon to make the painful communication. She, shrinking from so

unwelcome a task, persuaded the Marquis de Vivonne, brother of the

marchioness, to break the tidings to his sister. He invited her to

take a ride with him in his carriage, gradually introduced the

subject, and at last plainly informed her that she must either, of her

own accord, immediately and forever retire from Versailles, or submit

to the indignity of being arrested by the police and removed by them.

Madame de Montespan was in a fearful rage. Though fully aware of her

waning power over the king, the menace of arrest and banishment was an

indignity the thought of which had never entered her mind. But the

calm firmness of her brother soon convinced her of the impotence of

all exhibitions of indignation. The splendor-loving marchioness was,

as we have mentioned already, wealthy. She was, however, informed that

the king had decided to settle upon her an annual pension of six

hundred thousand livres. When we consider the comparative value of

money then and now, it is estimated that this amount was equivalent to

about four hundred and eighty thousand dollars at the present day.

"Madame de Montespan," writes Miss Pardoe, "buried her face in her

hands, and remained for a considerable time lost in thought. When, at

length, she looked up, her lips were pale and her voice trembled. She

had not shed a tear, but her breast heaved, and she had evidently come

to a decision. Folding her shawl about her, she requested the marquis

immediately to drive her to Versailles, it being necessary, as she

asserted, that she should collect her money, her jewels, and her

papers, after which she declared that she was ready, for the sake of

her family, to follow his advice."

[Illustration: PARTERRE OF VERSAILLES.]

They returned to the palace. Madame de Maintenon hastened to her

apartments. The Marquis de Vivonne informed her of the success of his

mission, and she communicated the intelligence to the king.

The marchioness had been in her apartments but about twenty minutes,

when, to her surprise, the door opened, and the king entered

unannounced. The marchioness, with her own graphic pen, has given an

account of the singular and characteristic interview which ensued.

The king came forward smiling very complacently at the thought that

with so little embarrassment he was to get rid of a companion whose

presence had become an annoyance to him--that he could discard her as

easily as he could lay aside a pair of soiled gloves. He congratulated

the marchioness upon the great good sense she had shown in thus

readily sundering ties which, after existing for eighteen years, had

become embarrassing. He spoke of their children as his property, and

assured her that he should do all in his power to promote their

welfare; that he had already, by act of Parliament, conferred upon

them statute legitimacy, and had thus effaced the dishonor of their

birth. He apologized for not having her name mentioned in Parliament

as their mother, this being impracticable, since she was the wife of

another man.

With smiling complacency, as if he were communicating very gratifying

intelligence, he informed this crushed and discarded mother that,

since her children were now princes, they would, of course, reside at

court, and that she, their dishonored mother, might occasionally be

permitted to visit them--that he would issue an order to that effect.

And, finally, he coolly advised her to write to her husband, whom she

had abandoned eighteen years ago, soliciting a renewal of their

relationship, with the assurance that it was her intention to return

to the paths of virtue.

Almost gasping with indignation, the haughty marchioness succeeded in

restraining herself until the king had finished his harangue. She then

burst forth in a reply which astonished and even alarmed the king.

"I am amazed," said she, "at the indifference with which a monarch,

who boasts of his magnanimity, can throw from him a woman who has

sacrificed every thing to his pleasure. For two years your majesty, in

devotion to others, has been estranged from me, and yet never have I

publicly offered one word of expostulation. Why is it, then, that I am

now, after silently submitting for two years to this estrangement, to

be ignominiously banished from the court? Still, my position here has

become so hateful, through the perfidy and treachery of those by whom

I am compelled to associate, that I will willingly consent never again

to approach the person of the king upon condition that the odious

woman who has supplanted me[W] shall also be exiled."

[Footnote W: Madame de Maintenon.]

The proud monarch was enraged. Pale with anger, he replied, "The kings

of Europe have never yet ventured to dictate laws in my palace, nor

shall you, madame, subject me to yours. The lady whom I have too long

suffered you to offend is as nobly born as yourself. If you were

instrumental in opening the gates of the palace to her, you thus

introduced there gentleness, talent, and virtue. This lady, whom you

have upon every occasion slandered, has lost no opportunity to excuse

and justify you. She will remain near the court which her fathers

defended, and which her wise councils now strengthen. In seeking to

remove you from the court, where your presence and pretensions have

long since been misplaced, I wished to spare you the evidence of an

_event_ calculated to irritate your already exasperated nature. But

stay you here, madame," he added, sarcastically, "stay you here, since

you love great catastrophes and are amused by them. Day after

to-morrow you will be more than ever a _supernumerary_ in the palace."

This heartless announcement, that Madame de Maintenon was to take the

place of Madame de Montespan in the affections of the king, and

probably as his wedded wife, pierced, as with a dagger's point, the

heart of the discarded favorite. She fell senseless to the floor. The

king, without the slightest exhibition of sympathy, looked on

impatiently, while her women, who were immediately summoned,

endeavored to restore consciousness. As the unhappy marchioness

revived, the first words which fell upon her ears were from the king,

as he said,

"All this wearies me beyond endurance. She must leave the palace this

very day."

In a frenzy of rage and despair, the marchioness seized a

dessert-knife which chanced to lay upon the table, and, springing from

the arms of her attendants, rushed upon her youngest child, the little

Count de Toulouse, whom the king held by the hand, and from whom she

was to be cruelly severed, and endeavored to plunge the knife into his

bosom, exclaiming,

"Yes, I will leave this palace, but first--"

At that moment, before the sentence was finished, the door opened, and

Madame de Maintenon, who had probably anticipated some tragic scene,

sprang upon the wretched woman, seizing the knife with one hand, and

with the other thrusting the child away. The maniacal marchioness was

seized by her attendants. The king tottered to the chimney-piece,

buried his face in his hands, and, from a complicity of emotions not

easily disentangled, wept convulsively.

Madame de Maintenon's hand was cut by the knife. As she was binding up

the bleeding wound with her handkerchief, the half-delirious

marchioness said to her, referring to the fact that the king had at

first been unwilling to receive her as the guardian of the children,

"Ah! madame, had I believed what the king told me fourteen years ago,

my life would not have been in your power to-day."

Madame de Maintenon, her eyes suffused with tears, looked sadly upon

her, then taking her hand, pressed it feelingly, and, without uttering

a word, left the apartment. The king followed her. The heart-broken

marchioness, in most imploring tones, entreated the king not thus to

leave her. He paid no heed to her supplications. The agitation of this

scene threw Madame de Montespan into such a burning fever that for

several days she could not be removed from her bed of pain and woe.

Louis XIV. Makers of History Series · 第 9 / 12 章