LOUIS XIV. began, as I have before remarked, sensibly to decline, and
his appetite, which had always been good and uniform, very considerably
diminished. Even foreign countries became aware of this. Bets were laid
in London that his life would not last beyond the first of September,
that is to say, about three months, and although the King wished to know
everything, it may be imagined that nobody was very eager to make him
acquainted with the news. He used to have the Dutch papers read to him
in private by Torcy, often after the Council of State. One day as Torcy
was reading, coming unexpectedly--for he had not examined the paper--upon
the account of these bets, he stopped, stammered, and skipped it. The
King, who easily perceived this, asked him the cause of his
embarrassment; what he was passing over, and why? Torcy blushed to the
very whites of his eyes, and said it was a piece of impertinence unworthy
of being read. The King insisted; Torcy also: but at last thoroughly
confused, he could not resist the reiterated command he received, and
read the whole account of the bets. The King pretended not to be touched
by it, but he was, and profoundly, so that sitting down to table
immediately afterwards, he could not keep himself from speaking of it,
though without mentioning the gazette.
This was at Marly, and by chance I was there that day. The King looked
at me as at the others, but as though asking for a reply. I took good
care not to open my mouth, and lowered my eyes. Cheverny, (a discreet
man,) too, was not so prudent, but made a long and ill-timed rhapsody
upon similar reports that had come to Copenhagen from Vienna while he was
ambassador at the former place seventeen or eighteen years before. The
King allowed him to say on, but did not take the bait. He appeared
touched, but like a man who does not wish to seem so. It could be seen
that he did all he could to eat, and to show that he ate with appetite.
But it was also seen that the mouthfuls loitered on their way. This
trifle did not fail to augment the circumspection of the Court, above all
of those who by their position had reason to be more attentive than the
rest. It was reported that an aide-decamp of Lord Stair, who was then
English ambassador to our Court, and very much disliked for his insolent
bearing and his troublesome ways, had caused these bets by what he had
said in England respecting the health of the King. Stair, when told
this, was much grieved, and said 'twas a scoundrel he had dismissed.
As the King sensibly declined I noticed that although terror of him kept
people as much away from M. d'Orleans as ever, I was approached even by
the most considerable. I had often amused myself at the expense of these
prompt friends; I did so now, and diverted M. d'Orleans by warning him
beforehand what he had to expect.
On Friday, the 9th of August, 1715, the King hunted the stag after dinner
in his caleche, that he drove himself as usual. 'Twas for the last time.
Upon his return he appeared much knocked up. There was a grand concert
in the evening in Madame de Maintenon's apartment.
On Saturday, the 10th of August, he walked before dinner in his gardens
at Marly; he returned to Versailles about six o'clock in the evening, and
never again saw that strange work of his hands. In the evening he worked
with the Chancellor in Madame de Maintenon's rooms, and appeared to
everybody very ill. On Sunday, the eleventh of August, he held the
Council of State, walked, after dinner to Trianon, never more to go out
again during life.
On the morrow, the 12th of August, he took medicine as usual, and lived
as usual the following days. It was known that he complained of sciatica
in the leg and thigh. He had never before had sciatica, or rheumatism,
or a cold; and for a long time no touch of gout. In the evening there
was a little concert in Madame de Maintenon's rooms. This was the last
time in his life that he walked alone.
On Tuesday, the 13th of August, he made a violent effort, and gave a
farewell audience to a sham Persian ambassador, whom Pontchartrain had
imposed upon him; this was the last public action of his life. The
audience, which was long, fatigued the King. He resisted the desire for
sleep which came over him, held the Finance Council, dined, had himself
carried to Madame de Maintenon's, where a little concert was given, and
on leaving his cabinet stopped for the Duchesse de la Rochefoucauld, who
presented to him the Duchesse de la Rocheguyon, her daughter-in-law, who
was the last lady presented to him. She took her tabouret that evening
at the King's grand supper, which was the last he ever gave. On the
morrow he sent some precious stones to the Persian ambassador just
alluded to. It was on this day that the Princesse des Ursins set off for
Lyons, terrified at the state of the King as I have already related.
For more than a year the health of the King had diminished. His valets
noticed this first, and followed the progress of the malady, without one
of them daring to open his mouth. The bastards, or to speak exactly, M,
du Maine saw it; Madame de Maintenon also; but they did nothing. Fagon,
the chief physician, much fallen off in mind and body, was the only one
of the King's intimates who saw nothing. Marechal, also chief physician,
spoke to him (Fagon) several times, but was always harshly repulsed.
Pressed at last by his duty and his attachment, he made bold one morning
towards Whitsuntide to go to Madame de Maintenon. He told her what he
saw and how grossly Fagon was mistaken. He assured her that the, King,
whose pulse he had often felt, had had for some time a slow internal
fever; that his constitution was so good that with remedies and attention
all would go well, but that if the malady were allowed to grow there
would no longer be any resource. Madame de Maintenon grew angry, and all
he obtained for his zeal was her anger. She said that only the personal
enemies of Fagon could find fault with his opinion upon the King's
health, concerning which the capacity, the application, the experience of
the chief physician could not be deceived. The best of it is that
Marechal, who had formerly operated upon Fagon for stone, had been
appointed chief surgeon by him, and they had always lived on the best of
terms. Marechal, annoyed as he related to me, could do nothing more, and
began from that time to lament the death of his master. Fagon was in
fact the first physician in Europe, but for a long time his health had
not permitted him to maintain his experience; and the high point of
authority to which his capacity and his favour had carried him, had at
last spoiled him. He would not hear reason, or submit to reply, and
continued to treat the King as he had treated him in early years; and
killed him by his obstinacy.
The gout of which the King had had long attacks, induced Fagon to swaddle
him, so to say, every evening in a heap of feather pillows, which made
him sweat all night to such an extent that it was necessary in the
morning to rub him down and change his linen before the grand chamberlain
and the first gentleman of the chamber could enter. For many years he
had drunk nothing but Burgundy wine, half mixed with water, and so old
that it was used up instead of the best champagne which he had used all
his life. He would pleasantly say sometimes that foreign lords who were
anxious to taste the wine he used, were often mightily deceived. At no
time had he ever drunk pure wine, or made use in any way of spirits, or
even tea, coffee, or chocolate. Upon rising, instead of a little bread
and wine and water, he had taken for a long time two glasses of sage and
veronica; often between his meals, and always on going to bed, glasses of
water with a little orange-flower water in them, and always iced. Even
on the days when he had medicine he drank this, and always also at his
meals, between which he never ate anything except some cinnamon lozenges
that he put into his pocket at his dessert, with a good many cracknels
for the bitches he kept in his cabinet.
As during the last year of his life the King became more and more
costive, Fagon made him eat at the commencement of his repasts many iced
fruits, that is to say, mulberries, melons, and figs rotten from
ripeness; and at his dessert many other fruits, finishing with a
surprising quantity of sweetmeats. All the year round he ate at supper a
prodigious quantity of salad. His soups, several of which he partook of
morning and evening, were full of gravy, and were of exceeding strength,
and everything that was served to him was full of spice, to double the
usual extent, and very strong also. This regimen and the sweetmeats
together Fagon did not like, and sometimes while seeing the King eat, he
would make most amusing grimaces, without daring however to say anything
except now and then to Livry and Benoist, who replied that it was their
business to feed the King, and his to doctor him. The King never ate any
kind of venison or water-fowl, but otherwise partook of everything, fete
days and fast days alike, except that during the last twenty years of his
life he observed some few days of Lent.
This summer he redoubled his regime of fruits and drinks. At last the
former clogged his stomach, taken after soup, weakened the digestive
organs and took away his appetite, which until then had never failed him
all his life, though however late dinner might be delayed he never was
hungry or wanted to eat. But after the first spoonfuls of soup, his
appetite came, as I have several times heard him say, and he ate so
prodigiously and so solidly morning and evening that no one could get
accustomed to see it. So much water and so much fruit unconnected by
anything spirituous, turned his blood into gangrene; while those forced
night sweats diminished its strength and impoverished it; and thus his
death was caused, as was seen by the opening of his body. The organs
were found in such good and healthy condition that there is reason to
believe he would have lived beyond his hundredth year. His stomach above
all astonished, and also his bowels by their volume and extent, double
that of the ordinary, whence it came that he was such a great yet uniform
eater. Remedies were not thought of until it was no longer time, because
Fagon would never believe him ill, or Madame de Maintenon either; though
at the same time she had taken good care to provide for her own retreat
in the case of his death. Amidst all this, the King felt his state
before they felt it, and said so sometimes to his valets: Fagon always
reassured him, but did nothing. The King was contented with what was
said to him without being persuaded: but his friendship for Fagon
restrained him, and Madame de Maintenon still more.
On Wednesday, the 14th of August, the King was carried to hear mass for
the last time; held the Council of State, ate a meat dinner, and had
music in Madame de Maintenon's rooms. He supped in his chamber, where
the Court saw him as at his dinner; was with his family a short time in
his cabinet, and went to bed a little after ten.
On Thursday, the Festival of the Assumption, he heard mass in his bed.
The night had been disturbed and bad. He dined in his bed, the courtiers
being present, rose at five and was carried to Madame de Maintenon's,
where music was played. He supped and went to bed as on the previous
evening. As long as he could sit up he did the same.
On Friday, the 16th of August, the night had been no better; much thirst
and drink. The King ordered no one to enter until ten. Mass and dinner
in his bed as before; then he was carried to Madame de Maintenon's; he
played with the ladies there, and afterwards there was a grand concert.
On Saturday, the 17th of August, the night as the preceding. He held the
Finance Council, he being in bed; saw people at his dinner, rose
immediately after; gave audience in his cabinet to the General of the
order of Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie; passed to Madame de Maintenon's,
where he worked with the Chancellor. At night, Fagon slept for the first
time in his chamber.
Sunday, the 18th of August, passed like the preceding days, Fagon
pretended there had been no fever. The King held a Council of State
before and after his dinner; worked afterwards upon the fortifications
with Pelletier; then passed to Madame de Maintenon's, where there was
music.
Monday, the 19th, and Tuesday, the 20th of August, passed much as the
previous days, excepting that on the latter the King supped in his
dressing-gown, seated in an armchair; and that after this evening he
never left his room or dressed himself again. That same day Madame de
Saint-Simon, whom I had pressed to return, came back from the waters of
Forges. The king, entering after supper into his cabinet, perceived her.
He ordered his chair to be stopped; spoke to her very kindly upon her
journey and her return; then had himself wheeled on by Bloin into the
other cabinet. She was the last Court lady to whom he spoke. I don't
count those who were always near him, and who came to him when he could
no longer leave his room. Madame de Saint-Simon said to me in the
evening that she should not have recognised the King if she had met him
anywhere else. Yet she had left Marly for Forges only on the 6th of
July.
On Wednesday, the 21st of August, four physicians saw the King, but took
care to do nothing except praise Fagon, who gave him cassia. For some
days it had been perceived that he ate meat and even bread with
difficulty, (though all his life he had eaten but little of the latter,
and for some time only the crumb, because he had no teeth). Soup in
larger quantity, hash very light, and eggs compensated him; but he ate
very sparingly.
On Thursday, the 22nd of August, the King was still worse. He saw four
other physicians, who, like the first four, did nothing but admire the
learned and admirable treatment of Fagon, who made him take towards
evening some Jesuit bark and water and intended to give him at night,
ass's milk. This same day, the King ordered the Duc de la Rochefoucauld
to bring him his clothes on the morrow, in order that he might choose
which he would wear upon leaving off the mourning he wore for a son of
Madame la Duchesse de Lorraine. He had not been able to quit his chamber
for some days; he could scarcely eat anything solid; his physician slept
in his chamber, and yet he reckoned upon being cured, upon dressing
himself again, and wished to choose his dress! In like manner there was
the same round of councils, of work, of amusements. So true it is, that
men do not wish to die, and dissimulate from themselves the approach of
death as long as possible. Meanwhile, let me say, that the state of the
King, which nobody was ignorant of, had already changed M. d'Orleans'
desert into a crowded city.
Friday, the 23rd of August, the night was as usual, the morning also.
The King worked with Pere Tellier, who tried, but in vain, to make him
fill up several benefices that were vacant; that is to say, Pere Tellier
wished to dispose of them himself, instead of leaving them to M. le Duc
d'Orleans. Let me state at once, that the feebler the King grew the more
Pere Tellier worried him; so as not to lose such a rich prey, or miss the
opportunity of securing fresh creatures for his service. But he could
not succeed. The King declared to him that he had enough to render
account of to God, without charging himself with this nomination, and
forbade him to speak again upon the subject.
On Saturday evening, the 24th of August, he supped in his dressing-gown,
in presence of the courtiers, for the last time. I noticed that he could
only swallow liquids, and that he was troubled if looked at. He could
not finish his supper, and begged the courtiers to pass on, that is to
say, go away. He went to bed, where his leg, on which were several black
marks, was examined. It had grown worse lately and had given him much
pain. He sent for Pere Tellier and made confession. Confusion spread
among the doctors at this. Milk, and Jesuit bark and water had been
tried and abandoned in turns; now, nobody knew what to try. The doctors
admitted that they believed he had had a slow fever ever since
Whitsuntide; and excused themselves for doing nothing on the ground that
he did not wish for remedies.
On Sunday, the 25th of August, no more mystery was made of the King's
danger. Nevertheless, he expressly commanded that nothing should be
changed in the usual order of this day (the fete of St. Louis), that is
to say, that the drums and the hautboys, assembled beneath his windows,
should play their accustomed music as soon as he awoke, and that the
twenty-four violins should play in the ante-chamber during his dinner.
He worked afterwards with the Chancellor, who wrote, under his dictation,
a codicil to his will, Madame de Maintenon being present. She and M. du
Maine, who thought incessantly of themselves, did not consider the King
had done enough for them by his will; they wished to remedy this by a
codicil, which equally showed how enormously they abused the King's
weakness in this extremity, and to what an excess ambition may carry us.
By this codicil the King submitted all the civil and military household
of the young King to the Duc du Maine, and under his orders to Marechal
de Villeroy, who, by this disposition became the sole masters of the
person and the dwelling place of the King, and of Paris, by the troops
placed in their hands; so that the Regent had not the slightest shadow of
authority and was at their mercy; certainly liable to be arrested or
worse, any time it should please M. du Maine.
Soon after the Chancellor left the King, Madame de Maintenon, who
remained, sent for the ladies; and the musicians came at seven o'clock in
the evening. But the King fell asleep during the conversation of the
ladies. He awoke; his brain confused, which frightened them and made
them call the doctors. They found his pulse so bad that they did not
hesitate to propose to him, his senses having returned, to take the
sacrament without delay. Pere Tellier was sent for; the musicians who
had just prepared their books and their instruments, were dismissed, the
ladies also; and in a quarter of an hour from that time, the King made
confession to Pere Tellier, the Cardinal de Rohan, meanwhile, bringing
the Holy Sacrament from the chapel, and sending for the Cure and holy
oils. Two of the King's chaplains, summoned by the Cardinal, came, and
seven or eight candlesticks were carried by valets. The Cardinal said a
word or two to the King upon this great and last action, during which the
King appeared very firm, but very penetrated with what he was doing. As
soon as he had received Our Saviour and the holy oils, everybody left the
chamber except Madame de Maintenon and the Chancellor. Immediately
afterwards, and this was rather strange, a kind of book or little tablet
was placed upon the bed, the codicil was presented to the King, and at
the bottom of it he wrote four or five lines, and restored the document
to the Chancellor.
After this, the King sent for M. le Duc d'Orleans, showed him much
esteem, friendship, and confidence; but what is terrible with Jesus
Christ still upon his lips--the Sacrament he had just received--he
assured him, he would find nothing in his will with which he would not
feel pleased. Then he recommended to him the state and the person of the
future King.
On Monday, the 26th of August, the King called to him the Cardinals de
Rohan and de Bissy, protested that he died in the faith, and in
submission to the Church, then added, looking at them, that he was sorry
to leave the affairs of the Church as they were; that they knew he had
done nothing except what they wished; that it was therefore for them to
answer before God for what he had done; that his own conscience was
clear, and that he was as an ignorant man who had abandoned himself
entirely to them. What a frightful thunderbolt was this to the two
Cardinals; for this was an allusion to the terrible constitution they had
assisted Pere Tellier in forcing upon him. But their calm was superior
to all trial. They praised him and said he had done well, and that he
might be at ease as to the result.
This same Monday, 26th of August, after the two Cardinals had left the
room, the King dined in his bed in the presence of those who were
privileged to enter. As the things were being cleared away, he made them
approach and addressed to them these words, which were stored up in their
memory:--"Gentlemen, I ask your pardon for the bad example I have given
you. I have much to thank you for the manner in which you have served
me, and for the attachment and fidelity you have always shown for me. I
am very sorry I have not done for you all I should have wished to do; bad
times have been the cause. I ask for my grandson the same application
and the same fidelity you have had for me. He is a child who may
experience many reverses. Let your example be one for all my other
subjects. Follow the orders my nephew will give you; he is to govern the
realm; I hope he will govern it well; I hope also that you will all
contribute to keep up union, and that if any one falls away you will aid
in bringing him back. I feel that I am moved, and that I move you also.
I ask your pardon. Adieu, gentlemen, I hope you will sometimes remember
me."
A short time after he called the Marechal de Villeroy to him, and said he
had made him governor of the Dauphin. He then called to him M. le Duc
and M. le Prince de Conti, and recommended to them the advantage of union
among princes. Then, hearing women in the cabinet, questioned who were
there, and immediately sent word they might enter. Madame la Duchesse de
Berry, Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans, and the Princesses of the blood
forthwith appeared, crying. The King told them they must not cry thus,
and said a few friendly words to them, and dismissed them. They retired
by the cabinet, weeping and crying very loudly, which caused people to
believe outside that the King was dead; and, indeed, the rumour spread to
Paris, and even to the provinces.
Some time after the King requested the Duchesse de Ventadour to bring the
little Dauphin to him. He made the child approach, and then said to him,
before Madame de Maintenon and the few privileged people present, "My
child, you are going to be a great king; do not imitate me in the taste
I have had for building, or in that I have had for war; try, on the
contrary, to be at peace with your neighbours. Render to God what you
owe Him; recognise the obligations you are under to Him; make Him
honoured by your subjects. Always follow good counsels; try to comfort
your people, which I unhappily have not done. Never forget the
obligation you owe to Madame de Ventadour. Madame (addressing her), let
me embrace him (and while embracing him), my dear child, I give you my
benediction with my whole heart."
As the little Prince was about to be taken off the bed, the King
redemanded him, embraced him again, and raising hands and eyes to Heaven,
blessed him once more. This spectacle was extremely touching.
On Tuesday, the 27th of August, the King said to Madame de Maintenon,
that he had always heard, it was hard to resolve to die; but that as for
him, seeing himself upon the point of death, he did not find this
resolution so difficult to form. She replied that it was very hard when
we had attachments to creatures, hatred in our hearts, or restitutions to
make. "Ah," rejoined the King, "as for restitutions, to nobody in
particular do I owe any; but as for those I owe to the realm, I hope in
the mercy of God."
The night which followed was very agitated. The King was seen at all
moments joining his hands, striking his breast, and was heard repeating
the prayers he ordinarily employed.
On Wednesday morning, the 28th of August, he paid a compliment to Madame
de Maintenon, which pleased her but little, and to which she replied not
one word. He said, that what consoled him in quitting her was that,
considering the age she had reached, they must soon meet again!
About seven o'clock in the morning, he saw in the mirror two of his
valets at the foot of the bed weeping, and said to them, "Why do you
weep? Is it because you thought me immortal? As for me, I have not
thought myself so, and you ought, considering my age, to have been
prepared to lose me."
A very clownish Provencal rustic heard of the extremity of the King,
while on his way from Marseilles to Paris, and came this morning to
Versailles with a remedy, which he said would cure the gangrene. The
King was so ill, and the doctors so at their wits' ends, that they
consented to receive him. Fagon tried to say something, but this rustic,
who was named Le Brun, abused him very coarsely, and Fagon, accustomed to
abuse others, was confounded. Ten drops of Le Brun's mixture in Alicante
wine were therefore given to the King about eleven o'clock in the
morning. Some time after he became stronger, but the pulse falling again
and becoming bad, another dose was given to him about four o'clock, to
recall him to life, they told him. He replied, taking the mixture, "To
life or to death as it shall please God."
Le Brun's remedy was continued. Some one proposed that the King should
take some broth. The King replied that it was not broth he wanted, but a
confessor, and sent for him. One day, recovering from loss of
consciousness, he asked Pere Tellier to give him absolution for all his
sins. Pere Tellier asked him if he suffered much. "No," replied the
King, "that's what troubles me: I should like to suffer more for the
expiation of my sins."
On Thursday, the 29th of August, he grew a little better; he even ate two
little biscuits steeped in wine, with a certain appetite. The news
immediately spread abroad that the King was recovering. I went that day
to the apartments of M. le Duc d'Orleans, where, during the previous
eight days, there had been such a crowd that, speaking exactly, a pin
would not have fallen to the ground. Not a soul was there! As soon as
the Duke saw me he burst out laughing, and said, I was the first person
who had been to see him all the day! And until the evening he was
entirely deserted. Such is the world!
In the evening it was known that the King had only recovered for the
moment. In giving orders during the day, he called the young Dauphin
"the young King." He saw a movement amongst those around him. "Why
not?" said he, "that does not trouble me." Towards eight o'clock he
took the elixir of the rustic. His brain appeared confused; he himself
said he felt very ill. Towards eleven o'clock his leg was examined. The
gangrene was found to be in the foot and the knee; the thigh much
inflamed. He swooned during this examination. He had perceived with
much pain that Madame de Maintenon was no longer near him. She had in
fact gone off on the previous day with very dry eyes to Saint-Cyr, not
intending to return. He asked for her several times during the day. Her
departure could not be hidden. He sent for her to Saint-Cyr, and she
came back in the evening.
Friday, August the 30th, was a bad day preceded by a bad night. The King
continually lost his reason. About five o'clock in the evening Madame de
Maintenon left him, gave away her furniture to the domestics, and went to
Saint-Cyr never to leave it.
On Saturday, the 31st of August, everything went from bad to worse. The
gangrene had reached the knee and all the thigh. Towards eleven o'clock
at night the King was found to be so ill that the prayers for the dying
were said. This restored him to himself. He repeated the prayers in a
voice so strong that it rose above all the other voices. At the end he
recognised Cardinal de Rohan, and said to him, "These are the last
favours of the Church." This was the last man to whom he spoke. He
repeated several times, "Nunc et in hora mortis", then said, "Oh, my God,
come to my aid: hasten to succour me."
These were his last words. All the night he was without consciousness
and in a long agony, which finished on Sunday, the 1st September, 1715,
at a quarter past eight in the morning, three days before he had
accomplished his seventy-seventh year, and in the seventy-second of his
reign. He had survived all his sons and grandsons, except the King of
Spain. Europe never saw so long a reign or France a King so old.