Remplissez l'air de cris en vos grottes profondes,
Pleurez, nymphes de Vaux, faites croître vos ondes;
Et que l'Anqueil[81] enflé ravage les trésors
Dont les regards de Flore ont embelli vos bords.
On ne blâmera point vos larmes innocentes,
Vous pourrez donner cours à vos douleurs pressantes;
Chacun attend de vous ce devoir généreux:
Les destins sont contents, Oronte est malheureux[82]
"In a letter written under the name of M. de la Visclède, to the
permanent secretary of the Academy of Pau, in 1776, Voltaire," says
M. Marty-Laveaux, "quotes these verses, and adds: 'He (La Fontaine)
altered the word _Cabale_ when he had been made to realize that the
great Colbert was serving the King with great equity, and was not
addicted to cabals. But La Fontaine had heard some one make use of the
term, and had fully believed that it was the proper word to use.'"
Vous l'avez vu naguère au bord de vos fontaines,
Qui sans craindre du sort les faveurs incertaines,
Plein d'éclat, plein de gloire, adoré des mortels,
Recevait des honneurs qu'on ne doit qu'aux autels.
Hélas! qu'il est déchu de ce bonheur suprême!
Que vous le trouverez différent de lui-même!
Pour lui les plus beaux jours sont de secondes nuits,
Les soucis dévorans, les regrets, les ennuis,
Hôtes infortunés de sa triste demeure,
En des gouffres de maux le plongent à toute heure
Voilà le précipice où l'ont enfin jeté
Les attraits enchanteurs de la prospérité!
Dans les palais des Rois cette plainte est commune;
On n'y connaît que trop les jeux de la fortune,
Ses trompeuses faveurs, ses appas inconstants:
Mais on ne les connaît que quand il n'est plus temps,
Lorsque sur cette mer on vogue à pleines voiles,
Qu'on croit avoir pour soi les vents et les étoiles.
Il est bien malaisé de régler ses désirs;
Le plus sage s'endort sur la foi des zéphirs.
Jamais un favori ne borne sa carrière,
Il ne regarde point ce qu'il laisse en arrière;
Et tout ce vain amour des grandeurs et du bruit
Ne le saurait quitter qu'après l'avoir détruit.
Tant d'exemples fameux que l'histoire en raconte
Ne suffisaient-ils pas sans la perte d'Oronte?
Ah! si ce faux éclat n'eût point fait ses plaisirs,
Si le séjour de Vaux eût borné ses désirs
Qu'il pouvait doucement laisser couler son âge!
Vous n'avez pas chez vous ce brillant équipage,
Cette foule de gens qui s'en vont chaque jour
Saluer à longs flots le soleil de la cour:
Mais la faveur du ciel vous donne en récompense
Du repos, du loisir, de l'ombre et du silence,
Un tranquille sommeil, d'innocents entretiens,
Et jamais à la cour on ne trouve ces biens.
Mais quittons ces pensers, Oronte nous appelle.
Vous, dont il a rendu la demeure si belle,
Nymphes, qui lui devez vos plus charmants appas,
Si le long de vos bords Louis porte ses pas,
Tâchez de l'adoucir, fléchissez son courage;
Il aime ses sujets, il est juste, il est sage;
Du titre de clément, rendez-le ambitieux;
C'est par là que les Rois sont semblables aux dieux.
Du magnanisme Henri[83] qu'il contemple la vie;
Dès qu'il put se venger, il en perdit l'envie.
Inspirez à Louis cette même douceur:
La plus belle victoire est de vaincre son cœur.
Oronte est à présent un objet de clémence;
S'il a cru les conseils d'une aveugle puissance,
Il est assez puni par son sort rigoureux,
Et c'est être innocent que d'être malheureux.[84]
La Fontaine, not satisfied with this poem, addressed an ode to the King
on Foucquet's behalf. But the ode is far from equalling the elegy.
... Oronte seul, ta creature,
Languit dans un profond ennui,
Et les bienfaits de la nature
Ne se répandent plus sur lui.
Tu peux d'un éclat de ta foudre
Achever de le mettre en poudre;
Mais si les dieux à ton pouvoir
Aucunes bornes n'ont prescrites,
Moins ta grandeur a de limites,
Plus ton courroux en doit avoir.
. . . . . . .
Va-t-en punir l'orgueil du Tibre;
Qu'il se souvienne que ses lois
N'ont jadis rien laissé de libre
Que le courage des Gaulois.
Mais parmi nous sois débonnaire:
A cet empire si sévère
Tu ne te peux accoutumer;
Et ce serait trop te contraindre:
Les étrangers te doivent craindre,
Tes sujets te veulent aimer.
These verses refer to the attack made by the Corsicans on the Guard of
Alexander VII, who, on the 20th August, 1667, fired on the coach of the
Due de Créqui, the French Ambassador.
L'amour est fils de la clémence,
La clémence est fille des dieux;
Sans elle toute leur puissance
Ne serait qu'un titre odieux.
Parmi les fruits de la victoire,
César environné de gloire
N'en trouva point dont la douceur
A celui-ci pût être égale,
Non pas même aux champs où Pharsale
L'honora du nom de vainqueur.
. . . . . . .
Laisse-lui donc pour toute grâce
Un bien qui ne lui peut durer,
Après avoir perdu la place
Que ton cœur lui fit espérer.
Accorde-nous les faibles restes
De ses jours tristes et funestes,
Jours qui se passent en soupirs:
Ainsi les tiens filés de soie
Puissent se voir comblés de joie,
Même au delà de tes désirs.[85]
La Fontaine submitted this ode to Foucquet, who sent it back to him
with various suggestions. The prisoner requested that the reference
to Rome should be suppressed. Doubtless he did not understand it, not
having heard in prison of the attack upon the French Ambassador at the
Papal Court.[86] He also disapproved of the allusion to the clemency
of the victor of Pharsalia. "Cæsar's example," he said, "being derived
from antiquity would not, I think, be well enough known." He also noted
a passage--which I do not know--"as being too poetical to please the
King." The last suggestion speaks of a true nobility of mind. It refers
to the last passage, in which the poet implores the King to grant the
life of "Oronte." Foucquet wrote in the margin: "You sue too humbly for
a thing that one ought to despise."
La Fontaine did not willingly give in on any of these points; to the
last suggestion he replied as follows: "The sentiment is worthy of you,
Monsignor, and, in truth, he who regards life with such indifference
does not deserve to die. Perhaps you have not considered that it is I
who am speaking, I who ask for a favour which is dearer to us than to
you. There are no terms too humble, too pathetic and too urgent to be
employed in such circumstances. When I bring you on to the stage, I
shall give you words which are suitable to the greatness of your soul.
Meanwhile permit me to tell you that you have too little affection for
a life such as yours is."
It was in the month of November only that a Chamber was instituted by
Royal Edict with the object of instituting financial reforms, and of
punishing those who had been guilty of maladministration. Foucquet
was to appear before this Chamber. It met solemnly in the month of
December. The greater part of it was composed of Members of the
Parliament, but it also included Members of the Chambre des Comptes,
the Cour des Aides, the Grand Council and the Masters of Requests. The
magistrates who composed it were, to mention those only who sat in it
as finally constituted:
The Chancellor Pierre Séguier, first President of the Parliament of
Paris, who presided; Guillaume de Lamoignon, deputy president; the
President de Nesmond; the President de Pontchartrain; Poncet, Master
of Requests; Olivier d'Ormesson, Master of Requests; Voysin, Master
of Requests; Besnard de Réze, Master of Requests; Regnard, Catinat,
De Brillac, Fayet, Councillors in the Grand Chamber of the Paris
Parliament; Massenau, Councillor in the Toulouse Parliament; De la
Baulme, of the Grenoble Parliament; Du Verdier, of the Bordeaux
Parliament; De la Toison, of the Dijon Parliament; Lecormier de
Sainte-Hélène, of the Rouen Parliament; Raphélis de Roquesante, of the
Aix Parliament; Hérault, of the Rennes Parliament; Noguès, of the Pau
Parliament; Ferriol, of the Metz Parliament; De Moussy, of the Paris
Chambre des Comptes; Le-Bossu-le-Jau, of the Paris Chambre des Comptes;
Le Féron, of the Cour des Aides; De Baussan, of the Cour des Aides;
Cuissotte de Gisaucourt, of the Grand Council; Pussort, of the Grand
Council.
It must be recognized that the creation of such a Chamber of Justice
was in conformity with the rules of the public law as it then existed.
Had not Chalais and Marillac, Cinq-Mars and Thou, been judged by
commissions of Masters of Requests and Councillors of the Parliament?
And, if our sense of legality is wounded when we behold the accusing
Monarch himself choosing the judges of the accused man, we must
remember this maxim was then firmly established: "All justice emanates
from the King." By this very circumstance the Chamber of Justice of
1661 was invested with very extensive powers; it became the object
of public respect, and of the public hopes, for the poor, deeming it
powerful, attributed to it the power of helping the wretched populace,
after it had punished those who robbed them.
Such illusions are very natural, and one may wonder whether any
government would be possible if unhappy persons did not, from day to
day, expect something better on the morrow.
Thus the tribunal constituted by the King was no unrighteous tribunal;
yet there was no security in it for the accused. He was apparently
ruined. Condemned beforehand by the King and by the people, everything
seemed to fail him, but he did not fail himself. After having wrought
his own ruin, Foucquet worked out his own salvation, if he may be said
to have saved himself when all he saved was his life.
His first act was to protest energetically against the competence of
the Chamber; he alleged that, having held office in the Parliament
for twenty-five years, he was still entitled to the privileges of its
officers, and he recognized no judges except those of that body, of
both Chambers united. Having made this reservation, he consented to
reply to the questions of the examining magistrates, and his replies
bore witness to the scope and vigour of a mind which was always
collected. The Chamber, on its side, declared itself competent, and
decided that the trial should be conducted as though Foucquet were
dumb: that is, that there would be no cross-examination, and no
pleading. By this method of procedure the Attorney-General put his
questions in writing, and the accused replied in writing. As the
documents of the prosecution and of the defence were produced, the
recorders prepared summaries for the judges.[87]
It is obvious that in such a case the reporters, who are the necessary
intermediaries between the magistrates and the parties to the case,
possess considerable influence, and that the issue of the lawsuit
depends largely on their intelligence and their morality. Consequently,
the King wished to reserve to himself the right of appointing them,
although according to tradition, this belonged to the President of the
Chamber.
Messieurs Olivier d'Ormesson and Le Cormier de Sainte-Hélène were
chosen by the Royal Council, and their names were put before the First
President, Guillaume de Lamoignon. This magistrate apologized for
being unable to accede to the King's wish, alleging that M. Olivier
d'Ormesson and M. de Sainte-Hélène would be suspected by the accused;
at least, he feared so. "This fear," replied the King, "is only another
reason for appointing them." Lamoignon--and it did him honour--gave
way only upon the King's formal command.
That was quite enough to make Lamoignon suspected by Foucquet's
enemies. Powerful as they were, he did nothing to reassure them; on
the contrary, he saw that the accused was granted the assistance of
counsel, and that the forms of procedure were scrupulously observed.
When one day Colbert was trying to discover his opinions, Lamoignon
made this fine reply: "A judge ought never to declare his opinion save
once, and that above the fleurs-de-lys."[88]
The King, growing more and more suspicious, nominated Chancellor
Séguier to preside over the Chamber. Lamoignon, thus driven from his
seat, withdrew, but unostentatiously, alleging as his reason that
Parliamentary affairs occupied the whole of his time.[89]
In vain the King and Colbert, alarmed at having themselves dismissed
so upright a magistrate, endeavoured to restore him to a position of
diminished authority; he was deaf to entreaties, and was content to say
to his friends: _"Lavavi manus meas; quomodo inquinabo eas?"_[90] Old
Séguier, who though lacking in nobility of soul possessed brilliant
intellectual powers, grew more servile than ever. Feeling that he
had not long to live, he prompdy accepted dishonour. In this trial
his conduct was execrable and his talents did not, on this occasion,
succeed in masking his partiality. Great jurisconsult though he was, he
did not understand finance, and this stupendous trial was altogether
too much for an old man of seventy-four. He was always impatiently
complaining of the length of the trial, which, he declared, would
outlast him.
With audacity and skill Foucquet held his own against this violent
judge. Brought up in chicanery, the accused was acquainted with all the
mysteries of procedure. He made innumerable difficulties; sometimes he
accused a judge, sometimes he challenged the accuracy of an inventory,
sometimes he demanded documents necessary for the defence. In short,
he gained time, and this was to gain much. The more protracted the
trial, the less he had to fear that its termination would be a capital
sentence.
The King was not at all comfortable as to its issue; his activity was
unwearying, and he never hesitated to throw his whole weight into the
balance. The public prosecutor, Talon, was not an able person; he
allowed himself to be defeated by the accused, and was immediately
sacrificed. He was replaced by two Masters of Requests, Hotmann and
Chamillart. One of the recorders caused the Court a great deal of
anxiety; this was the worthy Olivier d'Ormesson. Efforts were made to
intimidate him, but in vain; to win him over, but equally in vain. He
was punished. His offices of Intendant of Picardy and Soissonnais were
taken away from him. Finally, the idea was conceived of enlisting his
father, and of trying to induce the old man to corrupt the honesty
of his son. Old André would not lend himself to these attempts at
corruption; he replied that he was sorry that the King was not
satisfied with his son's behaviour. "My son," he added, "does what I
have always recommended him to do: he fears God, serves the King, and
he renders justice without distinction of person."
The Court and the Minister were, indeed, exceeding all bounds; Séguier,
Pussort, Sainte-Hélène and others displayed the most odious partiality.
False inventories were drawn up; the official reports of the
proceedings were falsified. The King carried off the Court of Justice
with him to Fontainebleau, fearing lest it should become independent in
his absence. This was going too far; Foucquet grew interesting.
Public opinion, at first hostile to the accused, had almost completely
turned in his favour, when, more than three years after his arrest, on
the 14th October, 1664, the Attorney-General, Chamillart, pronounced
his conclusions, which were to the effect that Foucquet, "attainted and
convicted of the crime of high treason, and other charges mentioned
during the trial," should be "hanged and strangled until death should
follow, on a gallows erected on the Place de la Rue Sainte-Antoine,
near the Bastille."
The trial was generally regarded as being overweighted. Turenne said,
in his picturesque manner, that the cord had been made too thick to
strangle M. Foucquet. The financiers, always influential, having
recovered from their first alarm, tried to save a man who, in his fall,
might drag them down with him. For, in so comprehensive an accusation,
who was there that was not compromised?
Colbert was now detested; as a result his enemy appeared less black.
As for the Chamber itself, it was divided into two parts, almost of
equal strength. On the one hand there were those who, like Séguier
and Pussort, wished to please the Court by ruining Foucquet, and on
the other those who, like Olivier d'Ormesson, favoured the strict
administration of justice, exempt from anger and hatred.
It was on the 14th November, 1664, that Nicolas Foucquet appeared for
the first time before the Chamber, which sat in the Arsenal. He wore a
citizen's costume, a suit of black cloth, with a mantle. He excused
himself for appearing before the Court without his magistrate's robe,
declaring that he had asked for one in vain. He renewed the protest
which he had made previously against the competency of the Chamber,
and refused to take the oath. He then took his place on the prisoners'
bench and declared himself ready to reply to the questions which might
be put to him.
The accusations made against him may be classified under four heads:
payment collected from the tax-farmers; farmerships which he had
granted under fictitious names; advances made to the Treasury; and the
crime of high treason, projected but not executed, proved by the papers
discovered at Saint-Mandé.
Foucquet's defenie, which disdained petty expedients, was powerful and
adroit. He confessed irregularities, but he held that the disorders of
the administration in a time of public disturbance were responsible for
them. According to him, the payments levied on the tax-farmers were
merely the repayment of his advances, and that the imposts which he had
appropriated were the same. As for the loans which he had made to the
State, they were an absolute necessity. To the insidious and insulting
questions of the Chancellor he replied with the greatest adroitness. He
was as bold as he was prudent. Only once he lost patience, and replied
with an arrogance likely to do him harm. He certainly interested
society. Ladies, in order to watch him as he was being reconducted to
the Bastille, used to repair, masked, to a house which looked on to the
Arsenal. Madame de Sévigné was there. "When I saw him," she said, "my
legs trembled, and my heart beat so loud that I thought I should faint.
As he approached us to return to his gaol, M. d'Artagnan nudged him,
and called his attention to the fact that we were there. He thereupon
saluted us, and assumed that laughing expression which you know so
well. I do not think he recognized me, but I confess to you that I felt
strangely moved when I saw him enter that little door. If you knew how
unhappy one is when one has a heart fashioned as mine is fashioned, I
am sure you would take pity on me."[91]
All that was known about his attitude intensified public sympathy. The
judges themselves recognized that he was incomparable; that he had
never spoken so well in Parliament, and that he had never shown so much
self-possession.[92]
The last Interrogatory, that of the 4th December, turned on the scheme
found at Saint-Mandé, and was particularly favourable to the accused.
Foucquet replied that it was nothing but an extravagant idea which
had remained unfinished, and was repudiated as soon as conceived. It
was an absurd document, which could only serve to make him ashamed
and confused, but it could not be made the ground of an accusation
against him. As the Chancellor pressed him and said, "You cannot deny
that it is a crime against the State," he replied, "I confess, sir,
that it is an extravagance, but it is not a crime against the State.
I entreat these gentlemen," he added, turning towards the judges, "to
permit me to explain what is a crime against the State. It is when a
man holds a great office; when he is in the secret confidence of his
Sovereign, and suddenly takes his place among that Sovereign's enemies;
when he engages his whole family in the cause; when he induces his
son-in-law[93] to surrender the passes and to open the gates to a
foreign army of intruders in order to admit it to the interior of the
kingdom. Gentlemen, that is what is called a crime against the State."
The Chancellor, whose conduct during the Fronde every one remembered,
did not know where to look, and it was all the judges could do not
to laugh.[94] The cross-examination over, the Chamber listened to
the opinion of the reporters and pronounced sentence. On the 9th of
December, Olivier d'Ormesson began his report. He spoke for five
successive days, and his conclusion was perpetual exile, confiscation
of goods and a fine of one hundred thousand livres, of which half
should be given to the Public Treasury, and the other half employed
in works of piety. Le Cormier de Sainte-Hélène spoke after Olivier
d'Ormesson. He continued for two days, and concluded with sentence of
death. Pussort, whose vehement speech lasted for five hours, came to
the same conclusion.
On the 18th December, Hérault, Gisaucourt, Noguès and Ferriol
concurred, as did Le Cormier de Sainte-Hélène, and Roquesante after
them, in the opinion of Olivier d'Ormesson.
On the following day, the 19th, MM. de La Toison, Du Verdier, de La
Baume and de Massenau also expressed the same opinion; but the Master
of Requests, Poncet, came to the opposite conclusion. Messieurs
Le Féron, de Moussy, Brillac, Regnard and Besnard agreed with the
first recorder. Voysin was of the opposite opinion. President de
Pontchartrain voted for banishment, and the Chancellor, pronouncing
last, voted for death. Thirteen judges had pronounced for banishment,
and nine for death. Foucquet's life was saved.
"All Paris," said Olivier d'Ormesson, "awaited the news with
impatience. It was spread abroad everywhere, and received with the
greatest rejoicing, even by the shopkeepers. Every one blessed my
name, even without knowing me. Thus M. Foucquet, who had been regarded
with horror at the time of his imprisonment, and whom all Paris would
have been immeasurably delighted to see executed directly after the
beginning of his trial, had become the subject of public grief and
commiseration, owing to the hatred which every one felt for the present
Government, and that, I think, was the true cause of the general
acclamation."[95]
On the 22d of December, this same Olivier d'Ormesson having gone to the
Bastille to give D'Artagnan his discharge for the Treasury registers,
the gallant Musketeer embraced him and said: "You are a noble man!"[96]
Foucquet, as a matter of form, protested against the sentence of a
tribunal whose competence he did not recognize. And the sentence did
not please the King, who commuted banishment into imprisonment for life
in the fortress of Pignerol. Such a commutation, which was really an
aggravation of the sentence, is cruel and offends our sense of justice.
Nevertheless, one must recognize that such a measure was dictated
by reasons of State. Foucquet, had he been free, would have been
dangerous. He would certainly have intrigued; his plots and strategies
would have caused the King much anxiety. The religion of patriotism had
not yet taken root in the heart of the great Condé's contemporaries.
The strongest bond then uniting citizens was loyalty to the King.
Foucquet was liberated from that bond by his master's hatred and anger.
It was to be expected that the fallen Minister would probably have
conspired against France with foreign aid. These previsions justified
the severity of the King, who throughout the whole business appeared
hypocritical, violent, pitiless and patriotic.[97]
The wisdom of the King's action is proved by Foucquet's conduct at
Pignerol, where he arrived in January, 1665. There, in spite of the
most vigilant supervision, he succeeded in carrying on intrigues.
He could not communicate with any living soul. He had neither ink
nor pens, nor paper at his disposal. This able man, whose genius was
quickened by solitude, attempted the impossible in order to enter
into communication with his friends. He manufactured ink out of soot,
moistened with wine. He made pens out of chicken bones, and wrote on
the margin of books which were lent to him, or on handkerchiefs. But
his warder, Saint-Mars, detected all these contrivances. The servants
whom the prisoner had won over were arrested, and one of them was
hanged.
In the end, these futile energies were defeated by captivity and
disease. Foucquet became addicted to devotional exercises. Like
Mademoiselle de la Vallière, he wrote pious reflections.[98]
It is even thought that he composed religious verses, for it is known
that he asked for a dictionary of rhymes, which was given to him.
For seven years he had been cut off from living men. Then a voice
called him. It was Lauzun,[99] who was imprisoned at Pignerol, and who
had made a hole in the wall. Lauzun told his companion news of the
outer world. Foucquet listened eagerly, but when the Cadet de Gascogne
told him that he held a general's commission, and that he had married
La Grande Mademoiselle, at first with the approval of the King, and
then against it, Foucquet considered him mad and ceased to believe
anything that he said.
About 1679, Foucquet's captivity at length became less severe; he was
permitted to receive his family. But it was too late; those fourteen
cruel years had irreparably undermined his strong constitution; his
sight had grown weak; he was losing his teeth; he was suffering pain
in his whole body, and his piety was increasing with his weakness.
He died in March, 1680, just as he had received permission to go and
drink the waters of Bourbon. His body, which had been laid in the crypt
of Sainte-Claire de Pignerol, Madame Foucquet had transferred the
following year to the church of the Convent of the Visitation in the
Rue du Faubourg-Saint-Antoine. The register of this church contains the
following entry: "On the 28th March, 1681, Messire Nicolas Foucquet was
buried in our church, in the Chapel of Saint-François de Sales. He had
risen to the highest honours in the magistracy; had been Councillor in
Parliament, Master of Requests, Attorney-General, Superintendent of
Finance, and Minister of State."[100]
Whatever may be said to the contrary, posterity does not judge with
equity, for it is partial; it is indifferent, and makes but hasty work
of the trial of the dead who appear before it. And posterity is not
a Court of Justice; it is a noisy mob, in which it is impossible to
make oneself heard, but which, at rare intervals, is dominated by
some great voice. Finally, its judgments are not definitive, since
another posterity follows which may cancel the sentence of the first,
and pronounce new ones, which again may be revoked by a new posterity.
Nevertheless, certain cases seem to have been definitely lost in the
court of mankind, and I find myself constrained to rank with these the
case of Foucquet. He was an embezzler, and was definitely condemned on
this point--condemned without appeal. As for extenuating circumstances,
it is not difficult to find them. Illustrious examples, even more,
perpetual solicitings and the impossibility of observing any regularity
in troubled times, impelled him to steal, both for the State and for
certain great men. Of his thefts he kept something; he kept too much.
He was guilty, doubtless, but his fault seems greatly mitigated when
one remembers the circumstances and the spirit of the time.
I am going to say something which is a kind of redemption of Nicolas
Foucquet's memory; I will say it in two charming lines which are
attributed to Pellisson, and which appear to have been written by
Foucquet's friend, the fabulist. Pellisson, in an epistle to the King,
said of Foucquet:
D'un esprit élevé, négligeant l'avenir,
Il toucha les trésors, mais sans les retenir.
This it is which redeems and exalts this man. He was liberal, he loved
to give, and he knew how to give, and let it not be said in the name of
any morbid and morose morality that, even if he had taken the State's
money without retaining it, he was only the more guilty, uniting
prodigality to unscrupulousness. No, his liberality remains honourable;
it showed that the principle which prompted his embezzlements was not
a vile one, that, if this man was ruined, the cause of his ruin was
not natural baseness, but the blind impulse of a naturally magnificent
temperament. Thus Foucquet will live in history as the consoler of the
aged Corneille, and the tactful patron of La Fontaine.
No one will deny his faults, the crimes he committed against the State,
but for a moment one may forget them, and say that what was truly
noble, and even nobly foolish in his temperament, half atones for the
evil which has been only too thoroughly proved.
[1] Cf. _Les amateurs de l'ancienne France: Le surintendant Foucquet,_
by Edmond Bonnaffé. _Librairie de l'Art,_ 1882. The book contains
particulars drawn from Peiresc's unpublished manuscript. During the
course of this work we shall have frequent occasion to quote from this
excellent study of an accomplished connoisseur.
[2] _Mémoires de Choisy,_ Ed. Petitot et Monmerqué, p. 262.
[3] _Journal d'Olivier d'Ormesson,_ Vol. II, p. 60. The unknown
author of the dialogues attributed to Molière by M. Louis Auguste
Ménard brings Mme. Foucquet on to the stage and makes her utter words
in keeping with those pious sentiments which were well known to her
contemporaries. The fictitious scene which confronts her with Anne of
Austria is a paraphrase of the words I have quoted in my text from the
_Mémoires de Choisy._
[4] _Histoire du Dauphiné,_ by M. le baron de Chapuys-Montlaville.
Paris, Dupont, 1828, 2 vols. Vol. II, pp. 460 _et seq._
[5] Cf. _Les premiers intendants de justice,_ by S. Hanotaux, in _La
Revue Historique,_ 1882 and 1883.
[6] Of Fronde.--_Trans._
[7] Mazarin's note-book, XI, fol. 85, Biblioth. Nat.
[8] Unpublished Diary of Dubuisson-Aubenay, cited by M. Chéruel in the
_Mémoires sur N. Foucquet,_ Vol. I, p. 7.
[9] _Histoire de Colbert et de son administration,_ by Pierre Clement.
Paris, Didier, 1874, Vol. I, p. 15.
[10] _Mémoires sur la vie publique et privée de Foucquet,_ by A.
Chéruel, Inspector-General of Education. Paris, Charpentier, 1862, Vol.
I, pp. 86-88.
[11] Bibliothèque Nationale, MSS. collection Gaignieres. This letter is
quoted by Chéruel, I, p. 183.
[12] _Histoire financière de la France,_ by A. Bailly. Paris, 1830,
Vol. I, p. 357.
[13] In 1651, Foucquet received from Marie-Madeleine de Castille,
the daughter of François de Castille, his wife, one hundred thousand
livres, the house in the Rue du Temple, the abode of the Castille
family, as well as the buildings adjoining, which were let at 2200
livres. (Cf. Jal, _Dictionnaire,_ article on Foucquet)
[14] Cf. Eug. Grésy, _Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte._ Melun, 1861.
[15] Archives de la Bastille, Vol. II, p, 171 _et seq._
[16] Anne of Austria (trans.)
[17] Her son, Louis XIV (trans.)
[18] And are now in Austria, Germany and elsewhere.--Editor.
[19] _Bulletin de la Société de l'Histoire de l'Art français,_ note by
M. Guiffrey, July, 1876, p. 38.
[20] Saint-Simon adds: "She was the widow of Nicolas Foucquet, famous
for his misfortunes, who, after being Superintendent of Finance for
eight years, paid for the millions which Cardinal Mazarin had taken,
for the jealousy of MM. Le Tellier and Colbert, and for a slightly
excessive gallantry and love of splendour, with thirty-four years
of imprisonment at Pignerol, because that was the utmost that could
be inflicted on him, despite all the influence of Ministers and the
authority of the King."--_Mémoires du duc de Saint-Simon,_ éd. Chéruel,
Vol. XIV, p. 112.
[21] _Mémoires._ Collection Petitot, Vol. LX, p. 142.
[22] It is the portrait which is reproduced at the beginning of the
French edition, because it seems to us at once both the truest and the
happiest picture of the extraordinary man who, both in letters and in
art, inaugurated the century of Louis XIV. The head, three-quarter
profile, is turned to the left. It is a medallion inscribed with the
words: "Messire Nicolas Foucquet, chevalier, vicomte de Melun et de
Vaux, Conseiller du Roy, Ministre d'État, Surintendant des Finances
et Procureur général de Sa Majesté." Signed "R. Nanteuil ad vivum
ping. et sculpebat, 1661." The style is at once soft and firm, the
workmanship pure and finished, the rendering of the colours excellent.
This engraving was executed after a drawing or a pastel which Nanteuil
had done from life, and which is lost. This work, and the engraving
which perpetuates it, seem to me to form the origin of a whole family
of portraits, of which we will mention several.
(1) A shaded bust, on a piedouche, bearing Foucquet's arms. The
arrangement is bad, the inscription:
Ne faut-il que l'on avouë
Qu'on trouve en luytous ce qu'on espérait.
C'est un surintendant tel que l'on désirait.
Personne ne s'en plaint, tout le monde s'en louë.