Monsieur's Jealousy.--Diplomacy.--Discretion.--The Chevalier de
Lorraine's Revenge.--The King's Suspicions.--His Indignation.--Public
Version of the Matter.--The Funeral Sermon.
After six months of wedlock, Henrietta of England had become so beautiful
that the King drew every one's attention to this change, as if he were
not unmindful of the fact that he had given this charming person to his
brother instead of reserving her for himself by marrying her.
Between cousins german attentions are permissible. The Court, however,
was not slow to notice the attentions paid by the King to this young
English princess, and Monsieur, wholly indifferent though he was as
regarded his wife, deemed it a point of honour to appear offended
thereat. Ever a slave to the laws of good breeding, the King showed much
self-sacrifice in curbing this violent infatuation of his. (I was
Madame's maid of honour at the time.) As he contemplated a Dutch
expedition, in which the help of England would have counted for much, he
resolved to send a negotiator to King Charles. The young Princess was
her brother's pet; it was upon her that the King's choice fell.
She crossed the Channel under the pretext of paying a flying visit to her
native country and her brother, but, in reality, it was to treat of
matters of the utmost importance.
Upon her return, Monsieur, the most curious and inquisitive of mortals,
importuned her in a thousand ways, seeking to discover her secret; but
she was a person both faithful and discreet. Of her interview and
journey he got only such news as was already published on the housetops.
At such reticence he took umbrage; he grumbled, sulked, and would not
speak to his wife.
The Chevalier de Lorraine, who in that illustrious and luckless household
was omnipotent, insulted the Princess in the most outrageous manner.
Finding such daily slights and affronts unbearable, Madame complained to
the Kings of France and England, who both exiled the Chevalier.
Monsieur de Lorraine d'Armagnac, before leaving, gave instructions to
Morel, one of Monsieur's kitchen officials, to poison the Princess, and
this monster promptly executed the order by rubbing poison on her silver
goblet.
I no longer belonged to Madame's household,--my marriage had caused a
change in my duties; but ever feeling deep attachment for this adorable
princess, I hastened to Saint Cloud directly news reached me of her
illness. To my horror, I saw the sudden change which had come over her
countenance; her horrible agony drew tears from the most callous, and
approaching her I kissed her hand, in spite of her confessor, who sought
to constrain her to be silent. She then repeatedly told me that she was
dying from the effects of poison.
This she also told the King, whom she perceived shed tears of
consternation and distress.
That evening, at Versailles, the King said to me, "If this crime is my
brother's handiwork, his head shall fall on the scaffold."
When the body was opened, proof of poison was obtained, and poison of the
most corrosive sort, for the stomach was eaten into in three places, and
there was general inflammation.
The King summoned his brother, in order to force him to explain so
heinous a crime. On perceiving his mien, Monsieur became pale and
confused. Rushing upon him sword in hand, the King was for demolishing
him on the spot. The captain of the guard hastened thither, and Monsieur
swore by the Holy Ghost that he was guiltless of the death of his dear
wife.
Leaving him a prey to remorse, if guilty he were, the King commanded him
to withdraw, and then shut himself up in his closet to prepare a
consolatory message to the English Court. According to the written
statement, which was also published in the newspapers, Madame had been
carried off by an attack of bilious colic. Five or six bribed physicians
certified to that effect, and a lying set of depositions, made for mere
form's sake, bore out their statements in due course.
The Abbe de Bossuet, charged to preach the funeral sermon, was apparently
desirous of being as obliging as the doctors. His homily led off with
such fulsome praise of Monsieur, that, from that day forward, he lost all
his credit, and sensible people thereafter only looked upon him as a vile
sycophant, a mere dealer in flattery and fairy-tales.