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PR O S P E C T U S.

1‘HE cordial reception given by the public to the Series

iof Ancien t Classics for English Readers has“

confirme d the in ten tion of the Publishers to carry out akin dred Series

,which it is bel ieved will n ot be less

useful or less welcome, and in which an attempt will bemad e to in troduce the great writers of Europe in a similarmann er to the mafiy readers who probably have a perfectacquain tan ce with their n ames

,without much kn owledge

of thei r works,or their place in the literature of the

modern world . The Classics of Italy,France

,Germany,

and Spain are n earer to u s in time, and less separated insen timen t , than the still more famous Classics of an ti

qu ity and if foreign travel is , as everybody allows , agreat mean s of enlarging the mind

,and d ispersing its

prejud ices,an acquain tan ce With those works in which

the great n ations who are our n eighbours have expressedtheir highest life

,an d by Which their mann ers of thinking

have been formed,cann ot but possess equal advan tages.

A man who would profess to kn ow Eng lan d withoutkn owing something of Shakespeare, Bacon ,

Milton,and

the great wr iters who have followed them,could form but

an imperfect idea of the nation al mind and its capabil i

ties and so no amoun t of travel can make us acquain ted

With Italy, while Dan te, Tasso, and her great historiansremain unkn own to as ; nor can the uphe avings ofFren chSociety an d the men tal characteristics of the n ation becomprehended withou t Voltaire

,Moliere

,Rousseau

,and

other great names beside. Neither is Germany herselfwithout Goethe and Schiller nor Spain recogn isabledeprived of that n oble figure of Cervan tes , in whom livesthe very gen ius of the nation . This great ban d it is ourdesign to give such an accoun t r of as may bring themwithin the acquain tan ce of the English reader, whose zealmay not carry him the length of the often thankless studyof translation s , and whose readings i n a foreign languageare n ot easy en ough to be pleasant. W e

'

are aware thatthere are d ifficu ltie s in our way in this attempt

which d id

n ot lie in the path of the former Series,sin ce in the

section of the world for which we write there are manymore readers of Fren ch and German than of Greek and

Latin but,on the othe r hand, there i s no educated class

supremely devoted to the'

study of Con tinen tal Classics,

as is the case in respect to the An cien t and even thegreatest authority in the learn ed matter of a Gree k textmight be puzzled by Je an Paul Ri chter, or lose himselfin the mysteries of Dan te ’s ‘Paradiso . ’ The audien ce towhich we aspi re i s , therefore, at on ce widerand n arrowerthan that to which the great treasures of Hellen ic andRoman literature are unfami liar and our effort will beto presen t the great Italian ,

the great Fren chman,the

famous German ,to the reader

,so as to make it plain to

him what and how they wrote, something of how theylived

,an d more or less of their position and influe nce

upon the literature of their coun trv.

T/wVolumes fiub/ishea'of fl u

s Se ries confain

DANT E,VOLTAIRE

,

PASCAL,PETRARCH

,

GOET HE,MOLIERE,

MONTAIGNE,RABELAIS,CALDERON ,

SAINT SIMON,

Volumes pr eparation

Major-Gene ral E. B; HAMLEY .

By Principal T ULLOCH .

By HENRY REEVE,

By A. HAYWARD, Q C.

OLIPHANT and F . T ARVER, M.A.

Re v. W . LUCAS COLLINS, M .A.

By WALTER BESAN'I‘.

By E . J. HASELL.

By CLIFTON W . COLLINS, M .A.

S A I N T S I M O N .

CLIFTON LLINS, M . A.

PHILADELPHIA

J. B . L I P P I N C O T T C O .

1 8 80 .

CONT NT S.

CHAP. PAGE

1 . INT RODUCT ION

II. SAINT S IMON'

S FAM ILY ,

I II. SAINT SIMON IN T HE ARMY ,

IV. VERSAILLES,

V. PRINCES AND PRINCESSES,

VI. MADAME DE MAIN TENON,

VII . SAINT SIMON’S LIFE AT COURT

,

VI II. JESUIT S AND JANSEN IST S,

IX. THE SPAN ISH SUCCESSION,

x . THE PROVINCES ,

XI. MEUDON AND MONSE IGNEUR,

XII. THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF BURGUNDY,

XIII. T HE LAST DAYS OF LOUIS XIV. ,

T HE REGENT,

CARD INAL DUBOIS,

XVI. SAINT SIMON IN RET IREMENT,

S A I N T S I M O N.

C HAP T E R I.

INTRODUCT ION.

A SECRET historian ; a geometrician ,diseased in body

and min d ; a good easy man,always dreaming

,and

treated as a dreamer,—there you have the three artists

of the seven teen th cen tury. They have startled and

perhaps a little shocked us all. La Fon tain e,the

happiest,was the most perfect ; Pascal, Christian and

philosopher,the most elevated ; Sain t Simon , given up

en tirely to his fan cy,is the most powerful and the most

true.”1 This is high praise,coming as it does from

an accomplished critic like M . Tain e,and must soun d

strange to many who kn ow little of Sain t Simon beyondthe fact that he wrote memoirs of Louis XIV.

’s reign .

Most of the great wr iters of that age are familiar n amesen ough to us . La Fon tain e’s Fables

,Pascal’s ‘Pensées,

Fen elon’

s T élémaqu e ,’ the plays of Moliere and Racin e,

1 T aine , Essais, p . 297.

F.C.—X.

2 SAINT S IM ON.

the sermon s of Bossuet and Bou rdalou e,and the letters of

Madame de Sevign e,have their place in most libraries

and,even in the form of selection s or extracts

,have pro

bably been read to some exten t by most person s Whohave read Fren ch at all. But Sain t Simon

,Whose gen ius

was in its own way as remarkable as thei rs,an d who has

given u s in his in comparable Memoirs a living pictureof the old r ég ime , is still

,we believe

,almost unkn own

,

except to the historian or reviewer. To ordinary readersin this country he is still the shadow of a name

,an d

n othing more. Even if we do not go so far as to ask,as

some literary lady on ce asked,

“Why was he made asain t 2 he is n ot unfrequen tly confused with his n amesake and descen dan t

,the Sain t Simon of revolution

ary fame ; and the philosophic frien d of Robespierre iscredited with having written the memoir s of his an

ce stor— the aristocrat of aristocrats .

At the same time it is not surprising that Sain tSimon should be so l ittle read. The fact is

,that

between the pressure of busin ess and the whirl of modernsociety

,few me n have time to read anything beyon d the

reviews an d periodicals of the day— if in deed they can

find time to read so much an d supfaosmg -that,in a fit of

self-improvemen t,they take some classic from their book

shelves,or turn back to the literature of the eighteen th

cen tury,the last book that they would be likely to select

would be a se t of Fren ch memoir s in twen ty volumes,

d igressive and d iscursive, an d d ifficu lt to follow from theobscurity of the style an d the variety of con temporaryallusion s. But the great drawback in his case (and it isthe on e unpardonable si n m a writer) is his length. EvenMacaul ay

,who was credited with reading Photius for

THE MEMOIRS. 3

pleasur e,confesses that he found Sain t Simon wearisome.

The good parts,he declared

,on readin g the Memoirs

a second time, were as good as ever, but the road fromfoun tain to foun tain lay through a very dry d esert.”

An ordin ary reader may well be excused for shri nkingfrom a task that tried Macaulay’

s patien ce ; in deed itmay be doubted if any on e in this gen eration (exceptingperhaps Sain t Simon ’

s learn ed ed itor,M . Chern el) has

ever even tried to wade thr ough those long and drearychapters describing the ceremon ial of the Span ish Cour t

,

the differen t classes of Span ish grandees,and the exact

position and privileges of the Fren ch dukes an d theParliamen t of Paris .

These tedious digression s springfrom a weakn ess inhere n t in Sain t Simon ’

s characterhis man ia for al l que stion s conn ected with rank and

ped igrees of the n obility . He seems indeed to have hadthe whole Fren ch peerage by heart. All their titles anddign ities were in ten sely in teresting to him ; an d he takesasingul ar delight in tracing the exact family history and

relation ship of n early every person age he mention s in hisMemoir s. The Baron Von—Thun cl e r—T en -T ronckh himselfcould not have been more exacting and if there is a

blot in any on e of the seize quartiers”of the familycoat of arms

,Sain t Simon is sur e to put his fing e r on it .

For example,when the Abbe de Soubise was about to

be received in to the Chapter of Strasburg, Sain t Simonat on ce goes back to the Abbé’s great grandmother.Who was she ! “A daughter of that cook

,formerly

scul lion,and afterwards lackey to Henry IV Again

,

when the Prin cess d e s Ursin s’ brother was about to makewhat was thought a me’sa llz

'

ance,Sain t Simon writes

Madame d e s Ursin s cried out as if their own mother

4 SAINT S IM ON .

had not been Aubry,their grandmother Boubi er daughter

of the treasurer of a savings-bank,and their great-grand

mother Beaun e.”So too, when Cardin al Alberon i wr otein a grand style of his dign ity as a Roman citizen

,and

talked of our Tacitus “A Roman, forsooth saysSain t Simon why, he belonged to a little village n earBayonn e

,where his father sold cabbages

,and he wormed

himself i nto favour by making cheese - salads for Ve ndome. Even the affaire da bonn et

,

”to which Sain tSimon poin ts again and again

,as if it involved the

gravest constitutional prin ciples,was really on ly a trivial

question of etiquette whether the Presiden t shoul dwear his cap on his head or place it before him on thetable

,when he addr essed the peers in Parliamen t.

As we shall fin d , dur in g the first few years of his lifeat Court he was in cessan tly occupied in trying thesequestions of preceden ce

,and in question ing the genuin e

n ess of some of the proudest titles in Fran ce. It seems,

on the face of it,a little absurd that a youn g duke of

recen t creation (for Sain t Simon was on ly the secondwho bore the title) shoul d be con tinual ly taking up

arms again st “n ew men

”— or mushrooms of fortun e,

as he terms them ; but this firm belief in his own

order— morgue ar istocr a tigu e is the key -n ote to hispolitical career as well as to his character. The morehe stud ied hi story

,he tells a s

,the more firmly he was

convin ced that it was the dukes,and the dukes alon e

,

who shoul d or could save Fran ce in the future, as theyhad saved her in the past. Mischief en ough had alreadybeen don e during the long reign of the oi l bour

g eois, and it was the peers, with the dukes at theirhead

,who should direct the coun cils of their sovereign .

THE MEMOIRS. 5

In fact, Sain t Simon wou ld have revived the aristocracyof the feudal system

,which had perished some cen turies

before he was born ,an d have transferred the

i

in stitution s

of Philip Augustus to the reign of Louis XIV. Weshall find that in all his poli tical schemes, both in con

n e ction with the young Duke of Burgundy an d withthe Regen t Orlean s

,b e con stan tly reverted to this id eal

con stitution,— a hierarchy culminating in the du cal rank

,

raised far above the lower orders of n obility,and having

its place on the steps of the thron e itself. This day—dream— for it was n othing more —had a special fascination forhim

,and he all udes to it in a hundred scattered passages

but it is almost unn ecessary to add,that of all the Wild

and fan ciful schemes ever imagin ed by philosopher orpolitician

,this was perhaps the wildest and most hope

lessly impossible.Sain t Simon either looked back to the past

,or he

looked forward to the future. Of the presen t time,and

of the men of his own gen eration,he always speakswith

the utmost bittern ess. Socie tym that is

,the Cour t

,as

he saw it— seemed to con sist chie fly of rogues and rascals

(fr ip ons ci scélém ts), and , gen erally speaking,the most

successful were in his eyes the greatest scou ndrels. On

whichever side he looked,he could find n othing but the

vilest passion s,the mean est motiv e s

,

'

the basest prin ciples ; men employing their lives in some miserable intrigue for some miserable object— wasting the ir talen tsand squandering their fortun es

,and supplan ting their

n eighbours by superior Vill any. And of al l detestablecharacters

,he p ain ts in the strongest colours those of

unprin cipled priests like Dubois and Le Tellier, and

unscrupulous lawyers like Harlay and Maison s

6 SAINT S IM ON.

Oi a few in timate personal friends he speaks interms of ahn ost unqual ifie d praise. Nothing is toogood for his spiritual adviser

,La Trappe for his

father—in—law,Marshal Lorges ; for his friend and con

fidant,the Duke of Beauvill iers ; an d for his youn g

hero,the Duke of Burgun dy. But such men were as

the very salt of the earth -the few good grams amongthe host of tares— and their solitary Virtues onl y heighten ed the con trast of the corruption and profligacy aroundthem. The strange thing is

,that Sain t Simon singles

out for special attack precisely those me n who wereamong the most distinguished and esteemed of theirown gen eration . Among them we find such n ames as

Noail l e s,the gay and fortu nate d iplomatist ; An tin ,

themost charming and versatile of courtiers Vendome

,the

idol of the army,and the prince of boon compan ion s ;

Vill ars,the hero of fifty battles ; Rochefoucauld, the

type of a grand se ign eu r . These men are each in theirturn branded by Sain t Simon with every epithet of scornand hatred

,an d held up by him to everlasting ridicule.

We have only to refer to the margin al summaries drawnup by his own han ds

,and we find that he has almost

exhausted the vocabulary of abuse in d escribing theircharacters. Wickedn ess

, pe rfidy, avarice, mon strous in

gratitude, hateful obstin acy, crim inal folly, faults uponfaults

,are some of the phases applied by him to the

statesmen an d soldiers of his time and he describes theDu e de Noaill es -who

,if we may believe his apologist,

has as much claim to our respect as Sain t Simon him

self—as the most faithful and the most perfect copyof the serpen t that tempted Eve

,— so far as a man can

approach the qualities of the chief of the fallen angels.

8 SAIN T S IMON.

ing sold himself to the Je suits,and for having sign ed

the Con stitution .

”History

,he thought

,was full of such moral lessons to

him who read it as it should be read ; and to give dueeffect to these lesson s was part of the duty of the historian . To him who con siders the even ts whichhistory records in their real and first origin

,the ir degrees

,

and their progr ess, there is perhaps n o religious bookn ext to Holy Scripture itself

,and the great book of

n ature always open before our eyes— Whi ch so greatlyraises our thoughts to God

,which so con tinually keeps

u s in wonder and aston ishmen t,or which shows u s so

clearly our n othingn ess and our blin dn ess.

But while he had this exalted idea of the purpose of

history,he n ever seems to have realised his own re spon

sibil ity as a historian . He wr ote always fur iously an d

recklessly— n either weighing his words nor measuringthe effect of “

his swee ping denu nciation s of the me n and

society of his time. Gen erally speaking,a wr iter is

induced to measure his statemen ts and qualify his

Opin ion s by the ord in ary restrain ts of publicity and

criticism ! to-morrow the critics will come,

the fear of this to -morrow,

”and of its pain s and

pen alties,that acts as a safeguard again st rash attacks on

personal reputation s. But the man who writes,as Sain t

Simon wrote,i n the secrecy of hi s chamber

,con scious

that,in his time

,no eye but his own will ever se e his

manuscripts and kn owi ng,as he kn ew,

that his workwill onl y be read when he is himself far beyond thereach of praise or cen sure

,— such a man wr ites without

scruple or respon sibility,with the curb loosen ed from

his tongue an d with the bridle taken off his lips. There

an d it is

THE MEMOIRS . 9

can be no action for libel with the dead 3 friends and

foes will be equally powerless to defen d or attack himthe verdict of posterity— whatever that verdict may be

-can n ever reach him ; and his fame will come,if it

comes at all, from a gen eration that n ever kn ew him.

Son laurier tardif n’ombrag e que sa tombe.

Such a writer will be free to indulge in al l the luxuryof scorn an d in vective, to gratify every personal pique,to avenge himself on those who have in sulted and in

jured him in his lifetim e,by leaving them in their tu rn

pill oried for ever in a fool’s paradise. And it is of thiseasy and n ot very dign ifi e d method of attack and r e tal i

ation that St Simon has undoubtedly availed himself.He has left his Memoirs behin d him as a min e isleft ina d eserted fortress

,on the chan ce of an explosion that

may ruin and destroy the en emy. This is what Chateaubriand mean t when he said that Sain t Simon écrit a ladiable pour l ’iunn ortal itéAs a matter of fact, Sai nt Simon dared n o more havepublished his M emoirs in his own lifetime

,than the

author of ‘Ju nius dared to drop hi s mask . We can

fan cy the storm o f in dignation that would have brokenout

,when the n oblest famili es in Fran ce found themselves

traduced and malign ed by this little man -devou ri ngduk e

,

”as Arg en son called him ; when the Jesuits foun d

worse things said of their Order by their supposed friendthan had ever been said of them by their avowed en emy

,

Pascal ; when his colleagues in office found their abilities disparaged and their policy assailed by the man

Whom they regarded with some justice as the most incompeten t politician of their number. l f these Memoirs

10 SA IN T S IMO N.

ever se e the light,wrote their author

,

“ I doubt notthat they wil l cause a prod igious revu lsion of feelingand it was fortun ate for his personal safety that n o accid en t ever betrayed their e f istence to his own gen eration .

He would certain ly have foun d himself. in the Bastill ebefore many days had passed already being

,as is

proved by the songs and lampoon s of the time,probably

the most unpopular man in Fran ce. / That he was himself ful ly sen sible of the risk he ran is shown by hisin ten se anxiety that some papers he had len t the Dukeof Burgundy shoul d n ot fall in to the king’s han ds .

“A

writer who wr ites the truth,an d n othing but the truth

,

must have lost his sen ses,

”he says,if he allows it even

to be suspected that he is writing. His work ought tobe guarded by keys an d the surest bolts

,and to pass

thus guarded to his heirs after him,who in their turn

would do wisely to let it abide for on e or two gen eration s

,an d n ot to let it se e the light till time has buried

all resen tmen ts .

The d ifficulty that meets u s on the threshold of his

Memoirs is what to believe and what n ot to believe.Kn owing how genuin e and sin cere Sain t Simon is evenin his hatreds

,we should be d isposed to accept all he

has told u s with implicit confid e n ce . But then,unfortu

nate ly, we find his authority on so many matters of factdiscred ited

,and in some cases disproved, by con tempo

rary witn esses,that considerable suspicion rests on these

coun tless an ecdotes and bans histoz’

r es scattered throughhis pages. Some of these stories

,so gravely recou nted

by him,are as wonderful in their way as anything that

Herodotus heard from the Egyptian priests ; indeed,s in ce the d ays of the Father of History, it would be

THE MEMOIRS. l l

d ifficul t to find another wr iter so inquisitive,so cre dul

ous,and so garrulously-given as Sain t Simon . We can

n ot say that his stories are n ot true, because he is oftenthe on ly writer who has recorded them,

an d we have n omean s of proving either their truth or falsehood. Butpresumptive eviden ce is in many in stan ces again st them

,

and_l e ave s u s no alternative but to class them with thosedelightful stories of our childhood that en liven ed thedreariest n arratives

, Claren ce’s Malmsey butt,Tell’s

apple, Cambronn e

’s famous speech

,Louis XVI.

’s last

words —what Mommsen call s the rubbish -heap oftradition

,

”or what Mr Hayward places among themock pearls of history.

W hen,for in stan ce

,Sain t Simon tells us of the farrier

of Salon and the marvellous vision that he saw,and

how he told it to the king,an d what the king said of it

or of the magpie that appeared to La Varenn e,and its

mir aculous speech,an d how La Varenn e at on ce took to

his bed and died,— all this reads like the head ings of

chapters from the Morte d’Arthur . So, again ,

Whenhe describes so graphically how Marshal Villars was leftalon e un der the tree at Friedlin gen

,weeping and tearing

his hair for the battle that he believed lost,but was

really all the time won by his lieutenan t,— the description

is as grotesque, and probably about as true, as Juven al’

s

picture of the on e—eyed Hann ibal riding on the last ofhis elephan ts. In the same way the hun ting adven turethat led to the death of Fargues

,so dramatically told,

the story of the black prin cess who lived in a conven t,

and was thought to be some great personage (“for t

says Sain t Simon ) the poison ing of

Henrietta of Orlean s— the secret marriage of Cardinal

12 SA IN T S IMON.

Dubois —the pathetic death of Racin e of a broken heart,

— all these roman tic tales must,we fear

,be con sign ed

to the same borderland between fact and fiction as thelegends of an cien t Rome or the historical plays of Shakespeare. But which is fact and which is fiction in thisregion of un certain ties

,it is not within the provin ce of

this volume to determin e. We must take Sain t Simonas we fin d him, and

,un less he is clearly and flagran tly

wrong,leave him the respon sibility of hi s own stories.

It is a pity that there should be even a question of

doubt in his case,— that a writer with all hi s keenn essof observation and marvell ous powers of description

,

with almost every faculty n eeded to make a great hi storian

,should fail in the on e essen tial poin t — historical

truth. In this respect his very talen ts have been a snareto him. His fon dn ess for anything graphic and pictur

esque,hi s appreciation of a good story when he heard

on e (an d we can trace this taste in the coun tless banmots and an ecdotes that he regales us with), his eagern ess always to poin t the moral an d adorn the tale

,when

he had the chan ce of doing so,

—all this in clin ed him totake the picturesque and poetical side of what he saw

and heard,rather than confi n e himself to the dull and

prosaic region of commonplace.Again

,Sain t Simon seems to have been wan ting in

an other gift,n ecessary to the man who tells us the his

tory of hi s times— the capacity for examin ing and siftingeviden ce. He eviden tly believed implicitly whatever hisfriends chose to tell him indeed he is candid en oughto give u s several in stan ces in which Orlean s or Lauzunpractised on his credul ity

,an d we can well believe that

these were not solitary exception s. My character,he

THE MEMOIRS . 1 3

says, upright, frank, free, natural, and far too simple,

was expressly made for being taken in the sn ares .

”Al l

the gossip of the back—stairs,all the scandalous stories

that circulated in the CEil de Boeuf or on the terraces ofMarly

,all the ill—n atured tales told him by his brother

in -law,Lauzun

,whom he declares to be a perfect treas

ury of an ecdotes,— Sain t Simon heard and duly n oteddown even ing after even ing. Then again

,he con stan tly

cross-qu estion ed the kin g’s surgeon and the king’s valets—much as Mr Grevill e cross-question ed old Batchelorand we may imagin e that what he heard in this way didn ot lose in the tran smission . But it was Just this kin dof in formation

,got in this underhand mann er

,that he

con siders,as he is careful to tell u s, the most importan t

and valuable of all testimony. These me n,he says

,

—Bo'

n tems,and Eloin

,an d Maréchal—é we r e always in

the royal bedroom or presen ce - chamber, and were all

eyes and ears.

He frequen tly describes interviews,

in his dramaticfashion

,which could n ot possibly have been kn own to

more than two or three people,and which

,it might be

supposed,would have been kept profoun dly secret by them

—for their own safety and reputation,if for n o other

reason . But n othing seems to have been hidden fromthis keen and vigilan t observer. He was as ubiquitousand omn iscien t as those scandalmongers described byPlautus ' 1

and even the circumstan ces of a téta-d-téta inthe king s private cabinet or the Regen t’s bedroom seem

,

by some mean s or other, to have reached Sain t Simon’

s

ears. To take an in stan ce at random ! we are told howMon sieur’s first wife— Henrietta, daughter of Charles

1 Plau tus, T rinummu s, i . 2.

14 SA IN T S IM ON.

I. of England— died sudden ly and terribly,in the prime

of her youth and beauty,in 1 670

,after on ly a few hour s’

il ln ess. Bossuet has pain ted for u s,in a famous sermon ,

the confusion and terror at Versailles When the Cour twas awaked at midnight by the cry of “Madame 88

meur t,

”and then of Madame e st mor te ;

”and Sain t

Simon gives,in his own mann er

,what was probably

the popul ar version of her death. The king,who was

greatly shocked by what had happen ed,suspected foul

play on the part of some of the d issolute hang e rs~on inMon sieur’s household, and before dawn the same morning sen t for Brissac

,lieuten an t of hi s guards

“He told him to choose six body-guards,trusty me n

,whose

secre cy could be depen ded ou,and se nd them to se ize the

house-steward,and bring him to his cabin e t by the back

stairs. This was d on e before daybre ak. As soon as the kingperceived him,

he ord e red Brissac an d the chief valet to r e

tire,and putting on a countenan ce and tone likely to cause

the greatest terror“‘My friend ,

’said he , looking at the man from head to

foot,listen to me carefu lly i f you con fess everything

,and

on ly an swer the truth in what I wish to kn ow, -wh'

ate veryou have done, I pardon you

,and the matte r shall n ever

be men tion ed . Bu t take care not to con ceal the le ast thingfrom m e

,for if you do so

, you are a d e ad man be fore youleave the room. Has Madame been poison ed

Y e s,Sire

,

’ he an swere d .

And who has poisoned her,and how was it don e

He replie d that it was the Chevalie r d e Lorraine whohad sen t the poison to Beuvron an d to Efiiat

,and told the

king all I have just written . T he n the k ing , redoubling hisassuran ce of pardon and his menace s of death

And my brother, did he kn ow 2’

No,Sire ; n on e of u s three were fools enough to tell

1 6 SA IN T S IM ON.

n atural"

eloquen ce could scarcely be reproduced in writing , especially in some of his stormy in terviews withNoailles and the Regen t

,where the con cen trated passion

of the speaker breathes through every lin e of his remonstran ce or invective

,an d makes on e almost regret that he

could n ot have lived a cen tury later an d en liven ed amodern parliamen tary d ebate.Among the c ritics of his own coun try

,from Voltaire

downwards,Sain t Simon has found n early as many

en emies as friends. Both the Du e de Ncailles and M .

Theophile Lavallee pron oun ce his person al prejudicesto be

!

stronger than his sen se of truth M . Mon ty haswritten an essay to show that he was sour and crossgrain ed i n character ; M . Chéru e l , in his learn ed work

,

tells u s that he is prejud iced,in con sisten t, partial,

credulous,and a fabulist rather than a hi storian . But

,

on the other hand, there is an other school of critics,

beginn ing with Vill emain and Marmon te l,who have se t

him on a pinn acle above every other prose writer of his

time. By these admirers he is declared to be caustic as

Le Sage,pathetic as Racin e

,picturesque as Tacitus . Taine

,

as has been seen,ranks him with Pascal an d La Fon

tain e and Sain te Beuve places him alongside of Bossuetan d Moliere . Praise cann ot go much bcyon d this ;still

,it is worth whil e quoting t] 10 great critic’s last

panegyri c on his favourite author

Y ou talk of Tacitu s,who has admirably con den se d ,

worked up,'

kn e ad e d,cooked and re cooked at the [midn ight]

lamp,who has gild e d with

'

a sombre tint his burn ing an d

bitter pictures,—do not repen t, Fren chm e n

,of having had

among you in the heart of Court life at Versailles, and everon the track of the human quarry

,this little duke with the

piercing e ye , crue l , in satiable, always on the chase, ferreting

THE MEMOIRS. 17

about presen t everywhere, swooping on his prey, and layingwaste on all sides . Thanks to him

,—a Tacitus with natural

humour and with unbridled fan cy, - we have nothing to envyiu the earlier writer. And what is more

,the vein of comedy

,

which he has so boldly scattered through his Memoirs,has

given u s in him a Tacitus (2 la Shakesp eare .”1

It only remain s to say something as to the history ofthese famousMemoirs,— how they were originally written ,and how they have descended to u s. As is well kn own

,

Sain t Simon amused himself in his old age by makin gn otes in an in terleaved copy of Dang e au

s Memoirs,but

it may be doubted whether (as has been thought)“he

condescended to borrow from Dangeau by a curious kindof plagiarism.

”2 The two writers had absolutely n othingin common beyond the fact that their memoirs relatedto the same period 3 and they differed so en tirely in theirmethod and their mann er of treating the same subjects

,

that they cann ot even be compared. It may be safelys aid that

,if anything

,Dangeau owes far more to Sain t

Simon than Sain t Simon owes to Dangeau ; for the on lyreadable portions of those twen ty octavo volumes

,which

M . Fe u il le t de Couches has so laboriously edited,are

the n otes and ill ustration s added by Sain t Simon . Dan

g e au’

s Memoir s themselves are as dull and un in teresting as pages from the Court Circul ar ’ or the LondonGazette.’ The king took medicin e “Mon seign eurwen t out wolf-hun ting Madame passed the aftern oon with Mademoiselle Be ssola ;

”—and so on,page

after page,and volume after volume. It is d ifficu lt,

as Sain t Simon says,

“ to understand how a man could

1 Sainte B e uve , Nouve aux Lund is , x . 263.

2 Re eve ’

s Royal and Re publican France , i. 126.

F.C.“ X. B

18 SAIN T S IM ON.

have had the patien ce and perseveran ce to write a worklike this every day for fifty years— so dry

,

so meagr e,so con strain ed, and so lite rally matter-of—fact.”Nor again does it seem clear

,as many editors suppose,

that Sain t Simon ’

s“ addition s”to Dang e au

s Memoir swere the basis of his own 3 in deed it may be question edwhether he even thought of ann otatin g Dang e au

s Memoirs till his own were in a fair way of completion . He

tell s u s expressly that it was his readin g the memoirs ofthe last cen tury that first suggested the idea of his writl u g his own 3 that he began his journal in 1694, whenhe was a young l ieuten an t en camped with MarshalLorg e s

s army on the Rhin e. In 1 699,again

,we find

him wr iting to the Abbot of La Trappe,to ask his

advice (as he always did) in a matter of con scien ce.He has been writin g memo i rs, he tells La Trappe, ofwhich “a considerable part is fin ishe d

,

”and inwhich “the

reputation s of thousands of people are compromised 3and he asks for some rul e by which he can speak thetruth without woundin g his con scien ce! What answerwas return ed we have n o means of kn owing 3 but as

Sain t S imon sen t him his accoun t of the Luxemburglawsuit

,

1 La Trappe had the opportun ity,at any rate,

of forming an opin ion as to the ton e and spirit of theremainder.In any case,from that time un til 1723 (n early thirtyyears’

) Sain t Simon con tinued day after day, or rathereven ing after even ing

,secretly taking n otes of all that

passed before him,—even writing down the actual words

of the speeches use d. After some striking scen e atCourt— that after Monseign eur ’

s death,for in stan ce

,

1 Se e p . 35.

THE MEMOIRS. 9

which Sain te Beuve pron oun ces to be un rivalled in hi story— he would sit in his dark cabin et at the back ofhis suite of rooms

,writin g fast and furiously

,without

resting to polish or correct, careless as to whether hissen ten ces were in coheren t or the style con fused

,so long

as the picture i tself stood out boldly from the canvas.

W hat cared he for style”! He own s himself that hen ever regarded his mann er of expression

,so long as he

could explain his mean ing.

I was n ever a student of the Academy. I have not be enable to cure myself of the fault ofwriting rapidly. T o makemy style more exact and agreeable by correcting it

,would be

to recast the whole work, and this labour would pass mystrength, an dwou ld ru n the risk of being unple asing (iwgm t) .To correct well what on e , has written , on e must know howto write well. It will be easily seen that I have n o right topique myself on that quality. I have thought of nothing allalong except exactitude and truth .

For thirty years,as has been said

,Sain t Simon

continued to write daily his impression s of men and

even ts as they passed before hi m,an d then

,when he

finally left the Court in 1723 , he carried with him thisen ormous mass of n otes and memoranda and treatisesand essays ; and these were the rough materials of his

Memoirs,as well as of the n otes and il lustration s copied

byhim in to the blank pages of Dange au’

s j our nal. Forthirteen years he con tin ued this work of revi si on and selection . Then ,

lastly,in 1 740

,he began to make a fair copy

of the whole,

—tran scribing them carefully in a small clearhand

,with many abbreviation s

,but few correction s .

Even thus written closely, they fi l le d three thousandfolio sheets . Following the e xample of Buffon and

20 SAINT S IM ON.

Bossuet,be divided them into n either volumes nor

chapters,but added a margin al summary

,an d a classi

fi e d index of subj ects.

Thus the Memoirs were really the on e engrossing occupatiou of his lifetime

,—not of the few years preceding

his death.

Sain t Simon,with all his talen ts

,was the worst

possible man of busin ess (“ I scarcely kn ow the four

simple rules of arithmetic,

”he told the Regen t,when

he wan ted to make him Min ister of Fin an ce), and hedied heavily in debt. By his will he left his manuscripts to his cousin

,the Bishop of Metz

,as being a

man of pruden ce and discretion,an d an exact inven tory

was made of them accordingly. But the creditorsclaimed them

,and a lawsuit took place between them

and the heirs of the estate,to de cide the right of pos

session ,— the latter wan ting to keep them as heir looms,

an d the former to realise something by their sale. It

ended,however

,in a higher authority in terven ing ;

and all these precious documen ts,after having been

left siX years in charge of M . D e lal e u,a n otary

,were

impounded and carried off to the Foreign Office byorder of the king.

”So far this was an advan tage

,as

it preven ted their being dispersed or sold ! in fact,M .

Basche t thinks their sei zure may have been the result ofa secret agreemen t between Saint Simon ’

s family and theDuke de Choiseul, the Foreign Min ister.It was eviden tly kn own from the first

,that among

these numerous manuscript volumes (about 280 in all),these famous Memoirs might be foun d 3 for, shortly afterthey had been locked up in the Foreign Office , wefind the Abbé de Voisen on commission ed to read them

THE MEMOIRS . 2 1"

and extract some of the more piquan t an ecdotes toamuse Louis XV. and Madame de Pompadou r 3 and

Madame du Deffand wrote in 1771 to Horace Walpolethat she had just read them with in expressible delight

,

and promised to send them to him by the hands of acertain Abbé. But they underwen t a strange adve n

tur e on their way from Chan teloup,and n ever reached

Strawberry Hill. Though still kept prison ers of state,

it seems that they were len t from time to time to certainprivileged persons

,an d copies

,all more or less in correct

,

made from the more in teresting portion s. Voltaire hadseen them

,and in tended to refute them. Duclos used

them for his Secret History of Louis an d Marmon tel (and Anqu e til after him) made large extractsfrom them.

In 1780 a volume was published at “Brussels, pur

porting to be extracts from the journ al of a celebratedduke and man of letters

,

“ better kn own by the excessof his frankn ess than by that of his credu lity,

” Thenappe ared

‘A Gall ery of the An cien t Court 3’and at

last,in 1 788, Sain t Simon

s n ame was boldly placed on

the title-page of some extracts from the Memoirs,bor

rowed or stolen'

by on e Sou lav ie , who seems to havebeen as impuden t an d as un scrupulou s an impostor asLa Be aume ll e . But all this time the preci ous Memoirsthemselves remain ed with the rest of the manu scripts i nthe Foreign Otfice , an d it was n ot till 1 81 9 that the headof the family (a Gen eral Sain t Simon ) obtain ed leavefrom Louis XVIII. to have his an cestor’s jou rn als handedover to him. In 1 830 the first “ authen tic an d completeedition was published

,and it was at the meeting of

the Sorbonn e in the same year that Villemain pron oun ced

22 SAINT S IM ON.

his well-known panegyric on the writer. We are toldthe effect produced on the literary world at Paris bytheir publication was prodigious

,an d Sain te Beuve can

onl y compare it to that cau sed by the “rave rl ey Novels.

It was,he says

,as if a curtain had suddenl y been li fted

from the past cen tury,and had let in a flood of light

upon every corn er of Versailles as it might be seen in

the days of the Great King.

The Memoirs,as we have them now in M. Chéru e l

s

ed ition,leave nothing to be desir ed in the way of com

pl eten e ss and correctn ess,but they are not a ten th part

of what Sain t Sim on actually wrote an d left behindhim. There are still to be found

,buried somewhere

in the catacombs of the Foreign Office on the Quayd

Orsay, no less than‘

two hundred an d sixty-six portfolios or volumes fil l e d with n otes

,letters

,treatises

,and

memoranda,al l in Saint Simon’s handwriting. All these

documen ts had been kept together un til M . Dumon tclassifie d and rearranged the archives of the ForeignOffice in 1848. W here they are n ow

,no on e seems

exactly to kn ow. They appear to be regarded in thelight of an Eleusin ian mystery,

”about Which it is a

sacri lege even to inquire 3 and the question s asked fromtinie to time by some in quisitive man of letters are not

on ly n ot an swered, but produce “an emotion”in the

official mind. When.

Guizot was For e ign Min ister, an

attempt was made towards publishing some of the Statepapers of the Mon archy, and we have the result in Mign et’s work on the Span ish Succession .

" Had he on lyadded to this the publication of Sain t Simon ’

s Paquetd

’Espagne ,

’some further

n ew and curious light might

CHAPT ER II.

SA IN T e ou’s FAM I LY.

LA FERTfi VIDAME,Sain t Simon ’

s family seat,where

the Rouvroys had lived from time immemorial, was afeudal chateau

,built in a square

,and guarded by a moat

and embattled walls . Of the chateau itself not a ston eremains. Not many years after Sain t Simon ’

s death itwas bought by the great capitalist Je an Joseph Laborde

,

who,with al l his good qualities

,had certain ly no an ti

quar ian tastes, for he destroyed the old chateau with itstradition s and association s

,and built in its stead a house

in a more modern style. But though the chateau itselfhas d isappeared

,such an exact inven tory of its con ten ts

has been left among Sain t Simon ’

s papers,that we

kn ow every picture and piece of tapestry in each room 3the chairs covered with brocaded silk 3 the curtain s of

green tq fl'

e z‘as with gold fringe 3 the library of six thou

sand volumes ; an d even the writing-table of cherrywood

,covered with stamped morocco

,

”on which the

famous Memoirs were written ,and the bureau with

seyen drawers,

”where they were probably kept un derlock an d key.

Claude Sain t Simon , father of the Memoir—writer, had

SAINT SIMON’

S FAMILY . 5

been a page in the Court of Louis XIII,and owed his

fortun e to a lucky acciden t. The ki ng,like all the

Bourbon s,was passion ately fon d of hun ting

,and it was

part!of Claude Sain t Simon ’

s duties to bring him his

second horse 3 an d his ingenuity in en ablin g his Majestyto change horses without dismoun ting was his fir st in troduction to the royal favour. On ce started at Cour t, thelittle page of the stables rose by rapid steps. He becameChief Squire

,First Gen tleman of the Bedchamber

,Gran d

Wolf—hun ter,Kn ight of the Order of the Holy Ghost

,

Captain of the Palace -Guard at Sain t Germain s,and

Govern or of the Castle of Blaye. Thr oughout his d escription Saint Simon pain ts his father as the Last ofthe Barons on e in whom some spark of the feudalspirit still burn ed —the hero of a bygon e age and thedevoted servan t of the best and greatest of kings. Weare told that his sagacity and discretion made him manyfriends at Court, and even gain ed for him the confid e n ceof the great Richelieu himself.

When the shades of misfortun e were gathe ring roundthi s Min iste r

,

”says Sain t Simon

,my father was often sud

d e n ly awoke at midn ight by his be d-curtains be ing drawnaside by a vale t with a can dlest ick in his hand

,and there

would be Richelieu stand ing behind him. And the card inalwould then take the candlestick and seat himself at the footof the be d

,crying out that he was lost

,and had come to my

father for advice and assistan ce,repeating some ord e rs he

had re ceived , or some passage of arms that he had ju st hadwith the king.

In fact,it was by Claude Sain t Simon ’

s help thatRichelieu

,on the eve of his d isgrace

,had the long secret

in terview with Lou is,and rehearsed the farce of his

26 SAINT S IMON.

pretended resignation,to be afterwards p ublicly per

formed on the celebrated Day of Dupes ! By Louishimself Sain t Simon was both hon oured and trusted ,and all woul d have gon e well with him (ii we may believehis son ) had he n ot in curre d the enmity of Chavig ny,the Min ister of WVar . Ou some affron t

,real or fan cied

,

from thi s Min ister,he threw up his office at Cour t, and

retir ed to the Castle of Blaye f There he stayed somefour years

,still keep i ng up a corresponden ce with Louis

,

un til summon ed on ce more to Versailles on the occasionof the king’s last illn ess. It was his duty at the fun eralto throw the sword of state upon the coffin as it lay inthe open vault

,and

,says Sain t Simon

,

“he has oftentold me that

,when he threw the sword

,he was .for the

momen t on the poin t of thr owmg himself after it.In that grave lay buried the hero an d idol of the oldduke’s life 3 and the memory of Louis XIII. was alwayskept sacred at the chateau of La Fe rté. Sai nt Simonhimself wore a ring with this king’s mi n i ature se t i n diamonds on it

°

3 there was a picture of him in every roomboth of his town and coru i try houses 3 there was a statueof him in the chapel

,with a lamp kept con stan tly burn ing

before it.

Never,says Saint Simon ,

did my father con sole himself for the death of Louis XIII. ; never d id he speak of him

without tears in his eyes 3 n ever d id he mention him exceptas the king his master n ever d id he fail going to Saint Den ison his behal f, year after year, on the 14th of May, or to offe rto his memory a solemn mass at Blaye when he found himse lf there on that an n iversary. It was a fee l ing of ven eration

,

affectionate remembrance, even tenderness, that he expressedin words when ever he spoke of him ; an d he gloried in dwelling upon his personal exploits and on his private Virtues .

SAINT SIMON’

S FAMILY . 27

Saint Simon ’s accoun t of the heroic part played by

his father in the war of the Fronde has been called inquestion

,with some reason . It is even said to be almost

en tirely pure roman ce ; but we must leave the responsibility of his statemen ts wi th the writer. Accord ing tohis accoun t

,n othing could be n obler or more indepe n d

e n t than the duke’s con duct in those troubled times whichfoll owed Louis XIII.

’s death. He resisted all the tempt

ing offers of Condé 3 he refused the bribes of the Kingof Spain ; he was proof even agai nst the charming elo

qu e n ce of the Duchess de Longuevill e ; he armed 500gentlemen at his own expen se

,and garrison e d Blaye in

the name of the King of Fran ce 3 and when proposalscame for a sur render of the place

,he thr eaten ed to tie a

shot to the heels of the n ext messenger and throw himin to the Gironde

,for as long as he lived

,

”he said,he

would n ever fail the child and Widow of his old master.”In gratitude Mazarin offered him the choice of a marshal’sbaton or the title of prin ce 3 but the old duke, in hispride

,woul d have n either the on e n or the other. He

woul d n ever,he declared

,tarn ish the hon our of his

family by allowin g it to be supposed possible that hisloyalty could be bought or sold.

Some years after this, Claude Sain t Simon happen ed

on e day to look in to Rochefoucaul d’s Memoirs of hisTime

,and there found himself represen ted as having

broken his word to Condé, and holding Blaye for theking

,when he had agreed to surrender it to the Fron d ists .

My father felt so keen ly the atrocity of this calumny thathe seized a pen and wrote on the margin of the volume, ‘Thewri ter has told a li e .

’ Not con ten t with thi s, he then wen tand d iscovered the publisher (for the book was not sold

28 SA IN T S IM ON.

openly on its first appearan ce) , and asked to se e all the copiesof the work

,-

praye d , promised , thre atened , and was so persisten t that he made the man show them. He at on ce took apen and wrote in ‘every copy the same marginal n ote as before.You may imag in e the aston ishment of the bookseller and thesubsequent indignation of M. de Rochefoucauld . There wasa great n oise made in the matter

,but n othing came of it .

The old duke married again in 1 670 —a charmin g wifeand soon afterwards there came a letter from Madame

de Mon tespan,offering to the n ew duchess what was then

supposed a high mark of Court favour, the post of Ladyin -Waiting to the kin g’s mistress. But the duke woul dnot hear of it. He open ed the letter

,and at on ce took

a pe n and politely declin ed the offer,adding

,that at

his age he had taken a wife , not for the Court, but forhimself.’

The writer of the Memoirs was the child of thesecond marriage

,bein g born in 1 675 3 an d he always

,

speaks of his mother,on the few occasion s when he

men tion s her name, i n terms of affection and respect,

although he does n ot think it n e cessary to go in to herfamily history. She was an Aub efin e

,— he says

,very

curtly ; and on e is in clin ed to suspect that the Aubefin e s had not much to boast of in the way of pedigree

,and

certainly could n ot be compared to his father’s family,

the Rouvroys, who traced their descen t from Charlemagn e.But though

,after the first few chapters

,the dowager

duchess disappears from the Memoirs, she seems to haveindirectly exercised a strong influ en ce over her son .

Even when he was fifty years old, and a member of theRegen t’s Coun cil, we find him still deferring to he rau thority, although the question was the marriage of his

SAINT SIMON’

S FAMILY. 29

daughter. The rest of the famil y, in cludin g the younglady herself, were strongly opposed to the match ; yethe tells u s

,My mother thought d ifferen tly

,and she

was accustomed to decide. An d the marriage tookplace as

she wished.

Among other pieces of good advice that his mother gavehim durmg his boyhood was a warn i ng that his future inlife must depend on himself

,for he had n o n ear relatives

and n o friends at Court ! he must n ot, therefore, rest idlyon his oars, and must do s omething and be somebody 3and he says that she succeeded in in spiring him witha

'

great ambition to rise by his own efforts. Meanwhilehe was carefully educated, first by a Je su it at home— a

Father Sanadou, the on ly member of the Order of whomhe speaks with a nythi ng like respect. Then he was sen tto the Academy at Rochefort, where he studied scien ceand philosophy. But he tells u s that he had no tastefor metaphysics ! What delighted him most were thechron icles and memoirs of his own country, and it wastheir perusal that first gave him the idea of writing hisown . My firm resolve to keep them en tirely to myselfappeared (so he says) to make up completely for thein conven ien ces that did not fail to occur to me .

CHAPT ER III.

SAINT SIMON IN THE ARMY.

APPROACHING the mature age of seven teen , Sain t Simongot tired of his books and lesson s

,and— excited by the

example ofh is fellow-pupil,the young Duke of Chartres

,

then settin g out for his first campaign— he induced hisfather to take him to Versailles and presen t him atCourt. Louis received them both very graciously, andat on ce enr olled the young me n in the regimen t kn ownas the Grey Musketeers.

”The followingyoung Sain t Simon se t off to j oin the army in Flan ders

,

with what would seem in these days an immense campequipmen t for a cadet

,— thirty-five horses or sumpter

mules,and two gentlemen in attendan ce

,a tutor and a

squire,charged by his mother with the special care of

his person . Neither of these two guardian s, however,seems to have been of much use to their young master.In the first action

,the tutor lost his hat and wig , while

his horse took the bit in his teeth and bolted Withhim in to the en emy’

s lin es 3 while the squire kept ata pruden t distan ce from the firing, and on ly came up

when it was all over,to congratulate people gen erally on

the brillian t success of the day. I was so surprised

32 SAINT S IM ON.

king’s guards to carry sacks of corn to Luxemburg’scamp

,they not on ly murmured loudly, but on on e occa

s1on threw down their sacks, and flatly refused to liftthem on the horses .

I arrived with my detachmen t of musketeers just as theguard s made the ir refusal, and I loaded my sack be forethei r eyes. Marin (the cavalry brigad ier, and a lieutenan tof the body guard s) saw me at the same mome n t, and , ful lofwrath at the refusal he had j ust me t with, crie d outat the same time pointing me out, and calling my namethat

,since I d id not find this duty be n eath me

,the troope rs

and guardsmen n eed n ot feel it any d ishon ou r or humi l iation to follow my example. This reproof, join ed to thesevere air of Marin, had such an immediate effect

,that

in stantly,without a w ord of reply, the guardsmen fill e d theirsacks as quickly as possible.”

Sain t Simon ’s spir ited conduct was repeated to Lou is,

an d he received in con sequen ce, as he tells u s, many flattering marks of royal favour during this wearisomes iege. Namur at last capitulated, and shortly afterwardsthe campaign itself came to an en d 3 but the exultationof the Fren ch over the fall of the fortress was greatlydamped by the n ews Which had just come of the disastrous se a-fight off Cape La Hogue.Sain t Simon lost his father early in the following

year“He died, he says

,

“ almost before theyhad time to call out that he was ill , —there was no moreoil in the lamp. I heard the sad n ews as I came backfrom the king’s couche r . The n ight was given to thejust sen timen ts of n ature, and early the n ext morn ing Iwen t to find Bon tems (the king

s valet)~—to secure hisinflu en ce in procuring some of the office s held by hisfather.

SAINT SIMON IN THE ARMY. 33

The whole strength of the kin gdomwas now put forth,

and five large armies took the fi e ld at on ce. Louis againassumed the command in person , and join ed his forceswith those of the Duke of Luxemburg o u the Flemishfron tier. The Prin ce of Orange foun d himself hemmedin by two armies, each of them superior to his own

,an d

cut off from all supplies and reinforcemen ts. As he saidafterwards in a letter to a friend

,he was caught in a

trap,and n othing but a miracle coul d have saved him.

But suddenl y,when Luxemburg was congratulating

himself on this rare opportun ity,Louis declared his in

tention of sending his own army off to the Germanfron tier

,an d return ing himself to Versaill es. It was in

vain that the Duke wen t on his kn ees and imploredhim with tears in his eyes to seize this chan ce of ann ihilating his en emy. Louis persisted in his resolution

,and

marched off the n ext day to j oin the ladies. His sold iersmu rmur ed openl y ; and the office rs, high and low

,could

n ot con ceal their disgust and disappoin tmen t at leavingsu ch a promising campaign wi thout drawing their swords.

I chan ced , says Saint Simon , to be going alon e on

duty to M. d e Luxemburg’s headquarters, as I often usedto do

,merely to se e what was going on

,and what was likely

to be the programme the n ext day; I was greatly surprisednot to fin d a soul there, and to hear that every on e was on theking’s side of the camp. I was sitting there pen sive and

stock-still upon my horse, wondering what on e arth thiscould mean

,and debating whether I should return or push

on to the king’s army

,when I saw the Prin ce d e Conti coming

from our camp, followed on ly by a page and a groom with aspare horse. What are you doing there he cried out as hejoined me

,laughing at my surprise ;and he explained that he

was just g oing to wish the king good-bye, and that I had betF.O.

— X. C

34 SAINT S IM ON.

ter go with him to do the same.‘What do you mean by

wishing good—bye I asked . Then he ordered his page andhis groom to follow him at a little d istan ce, and asked me

to tell my lackey to do the same . And the n he told me

al l about the retre at of the king, dying with laughter, and

made tremendous fu n of it all— for he completely truste dm e

,in spite of my youth. I listen ed with al l my ears, and

my i'

nexpressible aston ishment stopped my asking any question s. Chatting together in this man n er, we me t all theworld on their way back, and we j oin ed them .

Thei

n ext day Louis se t off for Namur,where the ladies

were waiting for him,an d from Namur return ed to Ver

saill es . Left to himself,Luxemburg at on ce marched

after the Prince of Orange, and found him en camped ina strong position n ear Ne e rwin d e n .

Sain t Simon gives u s a graphic,though con fused

,

accoun t of this battle— n ext to Malplaquet and Waterloo

,the blood iest ever fought in that part of Europe. It

was the on ly action he was ever engaged in ,and he tell s

u s with pardon able van ity how his own regimen t chargedfive times ; how his colon el and brigadier were killed ;and how a gold button was shot away from his own

doublet. He has left u s a description of the hero of theday— the Duke of Luxemburg —who was, if Marlboroughbe excepted

,the greatest captain pf the cen tury

Nothing could[

b e more exact than the coup d’oei l of

M . d e Luxemburg ; n othmg could be more brillian t,more

carefu lly plann ed , more far-sighted than he showed himselfin pre sen ce of the enemy, or on a day of battle

,coupled

with an audacity, a playfuln ess, an d a sang froid thatallowe d him to se e everything , and to foresee everything inthe midst of the hottest fir e , and of the most imminen tdanger. It was there that he was reall y great. For the

rest he was idleness itself. He rarely walked,unless the re

LUXEMBURG LAW SUIT . 35

was some great n ecessity ; gambling, conversation with hisintimate friend s, and eve ry even ing a supper with a verysmall number (nearly always the same) ; and if he was

en camped n ear any town , care was tak e n that the fair sexshould be agree ably mingle d with the other gue sts . At suchtimes Luxemburg was inaccessible to al l the world

,an d if

any emergen cy occurre d, it was Puysegur (the second in

comman d ) who gave the orders . Such was the life of thisg reat gen eral when with the army, an d such it was alsoat Paris

,when the Court and the great world occupied his

days and pleasure his even ings .

Sain t Simon occupied the in terval between his twocampaign s characteristicall y en ough— in bringing a lawsuit again st the great Marshal whom he has just described. It is quite clear that the details of this question of preceden ce

,which woul d in modern days have

been decided by the Heralds’ College or by the Committe e of Privileges in half an hour

,have a far gr eater

in terest and importan ce in his eye than all the battleseyer fought. Luxemburg had claimed the dorman ttitle of the Duke of Pin ey— a title dating from 1 581

which,if proved

,would give him preceden ce over all

the dukes except on e on the roll of peers . T o sub

stantiate thi s claim,he had (according to Sain t Simon )

ferreted out the daughter and heiress of the last Dukeof Pin ey by his se cond wife

,an d married her

,although

she was “ hideously ugly,like some frightfully fat

fishwoman in her cask 3”and then he had bribed the

real heir s (the children of the fir st wife)— an imbecilepriest and hi s sister who had taken the veil— to waivetheir claims to the title and estates . Lastly, he hadgot himself created Duke of Pin ey by n ew letterspaten t

,dating from 1 662

36 SAINT S IM ON.

All this was monstrous,according to Sain t Simon .

The an cien t title was Virtually extin ct,or

,if n ot extin ct

,

should have d escended to theb

imbe cil e priest shut up inSt Lazare. And so he in duced hi s brother peers to en teron their hopeless crusade again st Luxemburg’s claim ;but

,as he confesses himself

,everything was again st

them from the first. Ju st then Luxemburg was thehero of the hour

,fresh from a Victorious campaign

,the

frien d of royalty,and popul ar with all men of all classes

in a word,the ladies

,the r 1s1ng gen eration ,

all thefashion of Court and town ,

were for him 3 and n o on e on

our side was strong en ough to coun terbalan ce the weightof these grandees

,or even to make any head against

their influ ence 3 and if on e adds to this the pain s he tookbeforehan d to cultivate the goodwill of the chief men

both in Parliamen t an d the Chamber of Peers by mean sof paren ts

,friend s

,mistresses

,confessors

,valets

,promises

,

services,1t will be clear that with a First Presiden t like

Harlay at the head of this faction , we had a busin ess onhand in comparably too strong for u s.

The case was argued and reargu ed before the Parli amen t

,and after various delays and postpon emen ts

,during

which Luxemburg himself died, and his son became thedefendan t

, judgmen t was at last gi ven in favour of thetitle dating from 1 662

,while the decision as to Lux emJ

burg’s claim to the title of 1581 was indefin ite ly postpon ed. Thus things were left pretty much as they werebefore.Sain t Simon ’

s indign ation at this verdict is almostludicrous; By his accoun t, the peers would have wontheir sui t

,in spite of the formidable odds against them

,

had it not been for the vill any of Karlay, the Fir st

CHARACTER or HARLAY . 37

Presiden t (or, as we might say, the Lord Chan cellor),who had sold his influe n ce to the opposite party 3 andthen

,by way of revenge, he pain ts Harlay

s characterfor u s in the blackest colours. After doing unwillingjustice to the Presiden t’s kn owledge of the law and

his profoun d and varied learn ing, he speaks of his

pharisaical austerity and his craft as a politician,

and then he con cludes

He was destitute of real hon our,secretly depraved in

morals,with only a show of hon esty

,without even human ~

ity,— in a word

,a pe rfe ct hypocrite without a fai th

,wi thout

a law,without a God , and without a soul ; a cruel husband ,

a barbarous father, a tyrann ical brother 3 no on e’

s frie nd buthis own ; wicked by nature ; taking delight in in sulting, outraging

,and crushing (others) , an d having n ever

,during all

his l ife,missed a chan ce of doing so .

1

1 Saint Simon says,It is a pity some on e has not mad e aHar le iana

of al l his sayings , which wou ld show the characte r of this cyn ic, and

woul d be amu sing at the same time .

”He has don e

his be st to sup

ply this wan t himse lf and of the many stor ie s he te lls u s of the

cau stic humou r of the First Pr e sid e n t , the following is too good to beomitte d .

“ T he Du che ss of La Fe rte we nt to him [Harlay] to ask

an audience , and , 1lk e e ve ry on e e lse,had a taste of his t empe r . As

she was le aving, she complain e d to he r man of bu sin e ss , and calle dthe First Pre side nt ‘

an old baboon .

He was following he r all the

while,bu t did not say a word . At last she saw him behind he r , bu t

hope d that he had not ove rhe ard , and,without giving any sign of

‘having don e so , he pu t he r in he r carriage .

Shortly afte rward s he r suit came on (be for e Harl ay), and she un e x

p e cte d ly gain e d he r cause . Off she ran to the Fir st Pr e sid ent ’s hou se ,and mad e him al l kinds of acknowle dgme n ts . He —al l humble and

mod e st—mad e he r a d e e p r eve r e nce,and the n looking he r straight in

the face,

Madame,

said he in a loud voice be for e eve rybody, I am

ve ry glad that an old baboon (wn mew ! sing e ) has be e n able to givesome ple asure to an old she -monke y (u ne ve i l le And the n ,

in his humble st mann e r,withou t saying anothe r word , he gave he r

his hand to condu ct he r to he r carr iage . T he Duche ss wou ld havelik e d to have kille d him or d ie d he rse lf.”

38 SAINT S IM ON.

In appearance he was a small man,wiry and vigorous

with a lozenge-shaped face, a long aqui lin e n ose,fin e -speak

ing , piercing eyes that on ly looke d at you askan ce, but which,if fixe d on a clie n t or a mag istrate , were like to make himsink into the ground . He wore a robe that was somewhatshort

,collar and wristbands plaite d like those of a priest

’s,a

brown wig mixed with white,well stuffe d but short

,with a

great cap above it. He stooped,and walked a little be nt

,

with a studied air more humble than modest,an d con tinually

scrape d along the walls to make people give way to him withgreater n oise 3 and atVersailles made his waywith re spectful,and

,as it were, shamefaced bows to the right and l e f

About this time Sain t Simon married a daughter ofi

the Marshal d e Lorges, and to her excellen t qualities ofhead as well as heart he owed

,he says

,the chief happi

n ess of his life. He describes her as . be ing“ fair

,with

a perfect complexion and figur e , an d with a bearing aton ce extremely n oble and modest

, and with a somethingI kn ow not what of maj esty, tempered with an a1r of

Virtue and n atural sweetn ess.

”1 The wedding was celebrate d in the Church of St Roch, and the curious may

still se e in the parish register the signatures of thebride and bridegroom

,—Sain t Simon ’

s in a bold,large

hand,very unl ike his usual small

,n eat writing ; and the

bride’s in a school-gi rl’s copperplate style. There was agrand banquet after the ceremony

,a le vée the n ext

morn ing,

an d in the even ing they were invited to

1 The ‘Me rcur ie Galan t — the 5 Morn ing Post ’

of that day-doe s

justice to the br id e ’

s pe r sonal appe arance , and add s that she had a

be au ty of sou l,su ch as a pe rson of qu ality ought to have

,that will

make he r a fitting match for he r hu sband the duk e — one of the

wise st and most accomplishe d se ign e u rs of the Cou rt . It is n ot

ofte n that Saint Simon ge ts such high complime n ts from contemporary journals.

40 SAINT S IMON.

of his valets,who reluctan tly told him the whole story.

Louis’s anger and mortification were extreme.

This prin ce, outwardly so calm and such a master of hisslightest movements, even when events touched him mostn e arly, succumbe d on this single occasion . As he wasle aving the table at Marly with all the ladies

,and in the

pre sen ce of al l the courtiers,he saw a servan t who

,whil e

clearing away the de ssert, put a biscuit in his pocket. In an

instan t the kin g forgets all his d ign ity, an d with a can e inhis hand which they had just brought him with hi s hat, herushes upon the valet

,who was n ot in the le ast expecting

such an attack,strike s him

,abuses him

,and breaks the can e

upon his shoulders (as a matter of fact it was on ly of rosewood

,and did n ot resist in the least) . And then

,with the

handle in his hand , an d with the air of a man who cann otcon tain himself; and all the time abusing this valet

,who

was by this time a long Way off,he crossed the smalle r salon

and an antechamber,an d en tered Madame d e Maintenon ’

s

room,whe re he remain ed n early an hour

,as h e often did at

Marly after d inn er. As he was leaving her room to pass tohis own

,he saw Pere la Chaise

,and as soon as he perceived

him among the crowd of courtiers My father,’ he said in

a loud voice, I have just beate n a rascal and have brokenmy can e on his back

,but I d o n ot believe that I have

offended God — and then he told the story of the pretendedoffen ce. All who we re pre sent trembled sti ll more at whatthey had just seen and heard .

After the Peace of Ryswick,Sain t Simon ’

s own

regimen t was disbanded with many others ; and aboutthe same time thirty eight brigadiers of cavalry weregazetted at on ce

,but he looked in vain for his own

name among the list. Five younger office rs,who had

probably paid a large sum for their promotion , wereplaced over his head

,and in disgust he threw up his

RET IRES FROM THE ARMY. 41

commission— acting, he tells u s,by the advice of some

of his old er friends . He wrote a civil letter to theking

,making ill—health the excuse for having left the

service. But Louis was ann oyed, as he always was whenany office r sen t in his resign ation . See

,Mon sieur

,

here is an other man who is leaving u s,he remarked to

the Secretary of War,on readin g Sain t Simon ’

s letter 3and it was long, we are told, before he forgot or forgavewhat he regarded as a personal slight. For years Sain tSimon received n o invitation s to Marly—and there wasno sur er sign of royal disfavour .

CHAPT ER IV.

VERSAILLES.

SAINT SIMON does unwilling justice— if indeed he can besaid to do justice at all— to Louis XIV.

’s character. He

tells u s that he had received from God ability en oughto be a good kin g

,an d possibly a sufficie ntly great king,

”1but that he had been corrupted by the mortal poison offlatte ry ; that he was supremely vain and se lfish ; thathis education had been n eglected 3 that history, law,

an d

scien ce were “

sealed books to him 3 and that he dislikedand discouraged anything like superior talen t in others.

Socially (even by Sain t Simon’

s accoun t), Louis wasthe first gen tleman of his day— a king among me n .

Every accomplishmen t seemed to come n aturally to him.

He was a good dan cer,a skil ful tenn is—player

,a bold

rider,and a first-rate marksman .

His figu r e , his carriage, the grace, the beauty, and thegrand bearing which exceeded the beauty, even to the soundof his voice and mode of speaking, and the natural an d ma

je stic grace of his whole person , made him as remarkable,even up to the day of his death

,as the que en bee of the hive

1 Mazar in,who knew Lou is XIV. be tte r than Sain t Simon d id , (l e e

clar e d that he had stu ff e nough in him to make four kings and an

hon e st man .

VERSAILLES. 43

(la roi des abei lles) ; and if he had on ly been born an ordinaryperson , he would have equ ally had the tale nt for fé

tes,for

pleasures, for gallantry, an d for the d istractions of love.Neve r did any on e give with a better g race, and thereby

enhance so largely the value of his gifts . Ne ver did any on e

give such d istinction to his words,his smiles— n ay , to his

very looks . He made every thing precious by making itchoice an d maj e stic

, and to this the rarity and brevi ty of his

words added not a little . If he addresse d any on e,— a ques

tion it might be , or some commonplace remark,— al l the by

standers n oticed the favoured in d ividual ! it was an hon ourabout which on e talke d

,and which always became a sort of

con sideration . It was the same with al l his atten tion s and

d istin ction s, and with the preferen ce s so exactly propor tion edto each pe rs on ’

s merits. Never did he so far forget himselfas to say anything d isobliging of anybody ; an d if he hadto find fault, to reprimand , or to correct (which was se ldomthe case) , it was always with an air of kindness

,rarely with

harshn ess or severity,and n ever with anger.”

Louis wished that Versaill es should absorb the no

bility of Fran ce. All the, great n obles held office s in

the household,which mad e their con stan t presen ce n e ces

sary ; and a town had grown up around the palace,where

each of them had his separate establishmen t. To suchme n the country was regarded as a desert

,to which

n o on e would be ban ished if he coul d help it. Thus,while between Paris an d Versailles there was an endlessstream of coaches an d carriages passing and repassin g,along the highroad between Paris an d Orlean s the traveller wou ld meet n othing but a few peasan ts’ carts, somesold iers on the march

,or a messenger posting towards

the fron tier. “All Fran ce was there,is a common

expression of S ain t Simon ’

s,in referring to some Court

ceremon ial ; and assuredly all the life and splendour of

44 SAINT S IM ON.

the time was to be found at Versailles. At every levéethe king looked right and left of him

,with a glan ce that

n othing could escape,and showed marked disapprobation

of those who did not presen t themselves regul arly. If afavour was asked for any of these absen tees

,Who is

he 2 was the reply. I don ’t kn ow him. He is a man

[ n ever se e . His memory in these cases was n ever atfault. He woul d recogn ise

,says Sain t Simon

,some

ord in ary person whom he had perhaps onl y seen on ce,

after the lapse of twen ty years,and would not on ly

remember his face,but the circumstan ces of their last

interview.

Sain t Simon could n o more have lived away fromVersailles than a man in modern society coul d be awayfrom London in the season 3 and though

,as has been

said,he had too much temper

,and too much hon our

,to

play the courtier himself,

1 Court life had special and irresistibl e attraction s for him. Versailles Was, so to speak

,

his hun ting-ground,— the arena where he watched with

in satiable curiosity the great human drama with all itsvarying scen es —the plots and coun terplots the in

trigu e s and ambition s— the rise and fall of cour tier aftercourtier— the passion s and van ities of this little world

,

and all its medley of tragedy and farce. The study ofcharacter seems to have had an ever-in creasing fascinationfor him

,an d to have con soled him in a measure for his

own isolation among the brillian t thr ong of n obles andprin ces

,most of whom he so cord ially hated and de

spise d . These insects of the Court, as he disdain

1 It was of Antin that the Re gen t Orle ans said , “Voila comme nu

vrai courtie r d e voit etre—san s humeu r e t sans honn e u r .

”If we re

ve rse the proposition , it will exactly apply to Saint Simon .

COURT LIFE . 45

fu lly terms them, had a scientific value in his eyes, forthey coul d be analysed and dissected by the man who

could read their hearts ; their Vices an d their virtuescould be weighed in the balan ce 3 and every word an d

gestur e could be scrutin ised and referred to its originating motive. Accordingly it was in the momen ts of

some supreme agony or crisis,when the most practised

actor was forced to drop his mask for the time beingand show himself for on ce in his real character

,that

Sain t Simon ’

s powers of observation were excited totheir keen est poin t

,an d he then became all eyes and

ears to mark an d n ote the scen e as it passed before him.

It must be con fessed,he says

,that for him who knows

the Court to its inmost corn ers, the first sight of rare spectacl e s of this kind ,1 so interesting in so many d ifferent pointsof view,

gives an extreme satisfaction . Each face recalls toyou the cares, the in trigues, the in ten se labour employed inthe advan cemen t and formation of fortun es by the aid

'

of

cabals 3 the ski ll used to hold on e’s own ground and get r idof others ; the mean s of al l kind s employed to that e nd ; thein timacies more or less advan ced 3 the estrangements, thecoldn esses, the hatreds, the ill turn s, the intrigues, the overtu res

,the d iplomacy, the meann ess, the basen ess of e ach ;

the d iscon certmen t of some whe n half-way on their road,or

in the midst, or at the height of their expectation s 3al l this medley of living objects and of such importan t detailsgive to hi mwho kn ows how to receive it a pleasure which

,

hollow as it may seem,is on e of the greatest that you can

enjoy at Court.”

It may perhaps help to explain the ideas and association s which Sain t Simon attaches to thi s hateful wordcourtier

,

”if we take the character selected by himself,

1 He is spe aking of the famous sce n e at Ve rsaille s afte r Monse ig

ne ur’

s d e ath—se e n . 1 52.

46 SAINT S IMON.

and by Sain te Beuve after him,as their type of the

courtier p ar exce l lence . This was An tin,the onl y l e giti

mate son of Madame d e Mon tespan,an d the half—brother

of the Dukes of Main e and Toulouse. It is clear,even

by Sain t Simon ’

s accoun t,that An tin had been singularly

gifted with almost every men tal an d bodily accomplishmen t that a man can n eed to hold his own in society

,—a

fin e presen ce, charming mann ers, talen t, learn ing, kn owledge of the world

,powers of conversation

,wit and hu

mour ; and, above all, he had what is perhaps the rarestof all social Virtues n ever did he chan ce to speak illof any on e .

” But Sain t Simon woul d have u s believethat An tin

,with all his fascin atin g qualities

, was an

impuden t Gascon,

”—base,false

,an d avaricious— a gam

bler,a cheat

,and

,above all

,a coward. He had turn ed

his back in the day of battle, and had accepted the gross

e st in sults without ven tur ing to retaliate,and that at a

time when courage was the first instin ct of a n obleman ,and when coward ice was a brand on a man ’

s characterthat n othing could e fiace . It was looked upon as d is

graceful,

”says Sain t Simon ,

“ to insul t An tin ,”

-just asit woul d be now to strike a woman .

Still,in spite of his shortcomings

,there can be no

doubt that An tin was the most popular man of the day.

He had con trived to make himself so useful an d agreeable to all parties at Court that he was equall y at homeboth at Meudon and Versaill es. The king liked hislively conversation and his kn owledge of life and character ; an d Mon seign eur always found him good com

pany,and ready to gamble from n ight til l morning. As

an instan ce of the trouble he took to ingratiate himselfwith Madame de Main tenon

,Sain t Simon tells u s that

,

48 SAINT S IMON.

of his portraits. Christian as he was,he could not be

at charity with me n whom he believed to be hypocritesand rascals. On e is charmed

,

”he says,with true

and hon est men 3 on e is irritated again st the scoun drelswho swarm at Court, still more again st those who havedon e us an injury. The Stoic is a fin e and n oble chimera. I don ’t pique myself on impartiality

, and I shoul dvain ly try todo so .

”In fact

,it was a poin t of con scien ce

with him,if he described such men as An tin at all

,to

describe them as he saw them,not as they appeared to

their ign oran t and foolish admir ers,—to strip off the

mask that con cealed their features,and lay bare every

secret corn er of their hearts 3 to pain t them in their truecolours

,not to gloss over their foibles and their Vices ;

to pain t them (ii we may borrow Macaul ay’s il lustra

tion ), as Lely pain ted Cromwell, with all his warts and

wrinkles,or as Rembrandt pain ted hi s burgomaster

,

with every lin e an d shadow traced by t1me upon hisface

,—and n ot . to give u s a gallery of portraits insipid

and unreal,and unl ike the actual men .

There is n o doubt that,in many in stan ces

,Sain t

Simon has over-coloured these portraits ! in deed we may

trust, for the credit of human ity, that the courtiers of

his day were not quite the angels of darkn ess that herepresen ts them,

and that there was more hon our and

hon esty to be found among them than he is wil lingto all ow. But just as Carlyle discovered shams in

almost every phase of modern life, and as Thackerayinven ted sn obs to fill up his forty chapters

,— so

Sain t Simon has made the most of his grand topic forreproof and scorn and denun ciation

,and has selected

the courtier as hi s text for a hundred sermons.

THE KING’

S DAILY LIFE. 49

There are two famous chapters in La Bruyere, wherehe describes the Court and fashion of the day much inthe same bitter and satirical spirit. Like our writer

,

La Bruyere main tain s that the cour tier’s name is legion— an in exhaustible speci es

,embracing all kind s and

d egrees of gilded servitude,from the satellites of

Jupite r,”the most favoured personal friends of royalty

,

to the humbler but not less ambitious parasites,who

hang about the an terooms and galleries on th e chan ceof a passing

'

look or smile from their patron s.

In fact,the courtier’s l ife at Ve rsafll e s was a fain t re

fle ction of the king’s. From the momen t that he open edhis eyes in the morn ing till he closed them at n ight, Louiswas always (so to speak) on parade— in full-dress order.He could not even take his medicin e or eat his broth ifhe was il l

,without an u sher first summon ing the g rand e

entr ée and every detail of his ordinary life was regulated

,as Sain t Simon t e lls u s

,by the most tedious eti

guette. Even his levée was a long and stately ceremony—a kind of drama in five acts 3 and his toilet tookplace in the presen ce of a large audien ce

,when on e

favoured courtier woul d hold the candlestick,an other

woul d take the towel after his Majesty had washedhis hands

,whil e to han d the shir t was a privilege

reserved for a prin ce of the blood ~ royal. Then cameprivate audien ces 3 and shortly afterwards the captain of

the guard threw open the folding doors of the cabin et,

and Louis walked along the gallery that led to thechapel

,bowing right an d left to the lin e of cour tiers as

he passed them.

Mass was then celebrated,and the courtiers gazed with

all their eyes on the king as he remame d on his kn eesD

50 SAINT S IMON.

before the altar. On e cann ot help seeing a sort ofsubordin ation in their worship

,says La Bruyere, for

the people seem to adore the prince,and the prin ce to

adore God.

When Mass was over the king return ed to hi s privateroom

,and his Min isters foll owed him with their port

folios 3 and on four morn in gs of the week he held acabin et coun cil —latterly always in Madame de Main ten on ’

s room. Din n er was served at on e o’clock. Exceptwhen he was with the army, no man un der the rank of

a prin ce of the blood ever din ed with the kin g ! thecour tiers remain ed standing behind his chair ; and evenhis brother, Mon si eur,

”was on ly occasion ally hon oured

with ‘ a seat at the same table. The king had a royalappetite

,and hi s dinn er always consisted of several rich

soups and four or five courses of meat, con cludi ng withdessert, ices, and sweetmeats.

1 If he made me eat halfas much as he eats himself, I should not be longalive

,

”wrote Madame de Main ten on i n 1713.

When dinn er was over, the king en tered his cabin etagain

,fe d his dogs, changed his dress (again in public),

and then wen t down by the private stairs to the marblecourt

,where his coach was waiting. Sometimes

,in stead

of driving, he woul d go out hun ting; though he gave thisup latterly

,or shoot in the park, or drive a four-in -hand

through the forest of Fon tain ebleau ; and we are toldthat no profession al coachman ever handled the rein swith such skil l and gr ace. As he grew old er

,his exercise

1 “ I have often , write s Madame d e B'

avier e , se e n the king e at

fou r plat e s of d iffe r ent soups , a whole phe asant , a partridge , a largeplate

_of salad , two good slice s of ham , a plate of pastry, and the n be

he lpe d more thanonce to fruit and swe e tme ats .

COURT LIFE . 1

gen erally took the form of a promenade round the garden s

,where he woul d feed the carp

,watch the foun tain s

playin g,an d chat with his garden er

,Le N6tre 3 and

often for four or five hours his courtiers had to foll ow hisMajesty in all weathers up and down the long terraces

,

with their heads onl y sheltered by their periwigs 3 but,as the Abbe de Polign ac on ce said

,when Louis hoped

that his purple dress would n ot be spoil ed by a suddenshower It is n othing

,Sire ; the rain of Marly n ever

wets on e . It was on ly at Marly that the kin g ever gavethe welcome order

,Your hats

,gen tlemen

,

”when theyall covered.

Sometimes,in stead of the stately promenade

,there

woul d be a picn ic (féz‘e champ e

tr e ), or a garden-party,

when ten ts were pitched under the trees of Sain t Germain s

,or in on e of the long alleys at Fon tain ebleau ;

or the courtiers rowed in gon dolas along the broad canalat Versailles

,and did n ot return till after sun set.

At Marly the ladies of the "

Cour t always had supper atthe royal table 3 but here again everything was regulatedby the strictest etiquette. On e even ing Madame deTorcy (the Min ister

s wife) happen ed to come in late,and took a seat that was vacan t above the Duchess deDuvas. Louis almost pe trifie d he r with a look of angerand aston ishmen t

,and complain ed to Madame de Main

ten on afterwards that he had n ever seen such in crediblein solen ce on the part of a little bourg eoise . He con

stantly reverted to the subj ect,and did n ot— so Sain t

Simon says —recover his equan imity for thr ee whole days.

After supper the long gallery an d the whole of thatmagn ifi ce n t suite of rooms were lighted up with coun tless chandeliers

,and the splen dour of the scen e can on ly

52 SAINT S IM ON.

be fain tly realised from the pictures left ‘to u s‘

of the

time— the laced ruffle s,the silken coats

,and gold em

broidery worn by the courtiers,and the ladies’ dresses

sparkling (as a writer describes them) like a rich espalierof pearls, gold, j ewels, flowe rs, and fruits. Sometimesthere woul d be a fan cy ball or a masquerade

,when the

maids of hon our represen ted the season s of the year,or

some scen e from mythology 3 or a fair, where the ladieskept stall s and sold curiosities from Chin a and Japan ;or a lottery

,where Lou is distributed j ewels and trinkets

to the winn ers of lucky numbers. In 1 700 there was aball every night for thr ee weeks 3 and Sain t Simon says,On e did not leave till eight o’clock in the morn ing. I

was heartil y glad when Len t came,and remain ed al most

d ead with fatigue for two or three days, and Madame deSain t Simon coul d hardly get over Shrove—Tuesday.

As to the games of chan ce played on ordinary evenings

,the ir n ames are as numerous as those played by

Gargan tua himself. Lan squen et, piquet, ombre, brelan ,basset

,are a few out of the many men tion ed ; and in

Sain t Simon ’

s own coun try-house (as we learn by theinven tory of the furn iture) there were six tables devotedto differen t games in on e room. Some cool -headedplayers lik e Dangeau, who combin ed luck with skill

,

woul d win a hundred thousan d fran cs at basset in te n

days. Others, like An tin , were supposed . to aid fortun eby -occas1onal cheating.

Pray,Mon se ign eur,

’ asked the king on e day of his son ,

is it true that while you were playing an d gain ing heavily,you gave your hat to Antin to hold while you threw yourwinn ings into it

,and that as you turned your head by

chan ce,you surprised An tin pocketing the money Mon

COURT LIFE . 53

seigneur said nothing in reply, but only looked at the kin gand bowed hi s head to sign ify that it was e ven as he had

said . I understand you , Monseign eur,

said the king.

I ask n othing more about it.’ And thereupon they separated .

”1

Certain ly some of the stories told us by Sain t Simone ve al an undercurren t of coarsen ess an d ill -breeding

,

which we should hardly have suspected to have lainhid under the solemn formalities of the most stately Courtin hi story. We hear of the prin cesses borrowing p1pe sand tobacco from the Swiss guards, and hold ing a sortof orgie when the king had retired for the n ight

,or

lettin g off crackers under Mon sieur’s windows at midn ight

,to his great indignation ; we hear of on e great

lady calling an other a win e-sack,and the other replying

that it was better to be a win e - sack than a rag~sack 3

we hear of the Duchess of Berry being carried to beddrunk after a supper-party, and of the Grand Squiregrossly in su ltin g a Grand Duchess at Monseign eur’scard-table.Human natur e n eeds some relief from perpetual con

strain t,and as the gravest kin gs had thei r j esters to,

amuse their idle momen ts, so at Versaill es there wereprofessed buffoon s and butts for ridicule

,ready-made

to en dur e every sort of in sul t and practical j oke,with

out ven tur ing on resistan ce or retaliation . A creatur eof this kind was the Prin cess d ’

Harcourt a sort of

personage,

”says Sain t Simon

,whom it is a good thing

to make kn own , in order to kn ow more thoroughly a

1 Saint Simon’

s au thor ity for this story is the first squ ire , who toldit to him with an air of ravishme nt,”having he ard it himse lf fromone of the vale ts .

54 SAINT S IM ON.

Court which did n ot scruple to receive su ch beings ;and then he describes her “ Tall

,fat

,the colour of

milk-porridge,with thick ugly lips

,an d hair like tow

Dirty and sluttish,always in triguing

,pretend

ing, attemptin g, always quarrelling, she was awhite fury— nay more, she was a Harpy, for she had all

the effron tery,the wickedn ess

,the deceit and violen ce

of on e,as well as its avarice and greedin ess.

Al though n ominally a d évote of Madame de Mainten on ’

s type,this prin cess cheated at cards in the most

barefaced mann er,and stormed and screamed if detected.

She flew in to fits of blind passion on the smallest provocation

,and abused . an d beat her servan ts

,un til on e

stalwart chambermaid retaliated,locked the door

,and

then belaboured her mistress with a broom—han dl e tillshe howled for

mercy. On e cold win ter’s n ight, some ofthe more mischievous courtiers

,headed by Sain t Simon ’

s

model prin ce,the Duke of Burgundy

,got in to her room

and pelted her with snowballs.

This filthy creature in her be d , roused from sleep with astart

, bruised and dren ched with the snow all over he r earsand head

,dishevelled

,screaming at the top of he r voice

, and

wr_1ggling like an eel,without knowing where to hide her

sel f,was a sight that d iverted them al l for more than half

an hour ; so that the nymph floate d in he r be d,while the

water,trickling from it on al l sides

,floode d the whole room.

It was en ough to make on e burst with laughter. The n extday she su lked and was laughe d at more than ever.

It is hardly credible that this brutality shoul d haveoccur red at Versaill es ; yet Sain t Simon d escribes thescen e as if he had himself taken part in it. To halfdrown a defe n celess woman with snow on a win ter’s

56 SAINT S IMON.

Space forbids our dwell ing further on these picturesof the ladies of the Court— still less can we follow Sain tSimon thr ough those laughable adven tures

,

”thoseridiculous situation s

,

”those pleasan t an ecdotes,that

so oft en form the headings of his chapters . Those whomake the search for themselves will be well repaid fortheir trouble. Nothing in Moliere

s comedies is moreludicrous than some of these scen es from Court lifeMadame d e Rupelmonde playing cards in the crowdeddrawing-room at Marly, and gravely ordered to go tobed by the Swiss groom of the chambers 3 the old Madame d e St Herem,

who was so afraid of thun de r thatshe used to get un der he r bed and make all her servan tsget on top of it

,piled on e above the other

,and who had

love made to her in rather too demon strative a fashionby an escaped lun atic she was hideous at eighteen

,

and was then eighty,”says Sain t Simon

,paren thetically) ;

the roman tic love—story of La Coetlogon 3 the troubles ofLa Meill eraye, whose husband, St Ruth, kept her inorder with a cudgel 3 the eccen tricities of Lauzun ; thepranks of Coislin and Courcill on , —all these are someof the bagatelles whi ch Sain t Simon apologises forrecoun ting, but which, as he justly says

, g ive l ife a ndreality to hi s picture of the times.

CHAPT ER V.

PRINCES AND PRINCESSES.

N0 spot of coun try is at on ce so in teresting and so

melan choly as the valley of the Sein e round Paris .

Each hill and Village,as we se e them from the railroad

,

recalls its memories of the past ; each palace and chateau are associated with the reign of the great king ; an d

wherever we tread in this region,a history is ben eath

our feet.”Versailles in its lon ely magn ificen ce 3 the dese rted Trian on s 3 the valley of Port Royal, as desolate asGlen coe itself ; the ruin ed wall s of Sain t Cyr 3Marly, almost buried in the forest

,where on ly a few green mounds

mark the site of Louis’s favourite retreat 3 Sain t Cloud,on ce the home of all delights

,

”n ow a heap of blackened

ruin s 3‘ Sain t Germain s, the most picturesque of all, withthe long terrace along which James II. walked, n ow d is

figure d by a hotel, and the galleries where Hen ry IV. heldhis Cour t, vulgarised by a museum 3 the vast palace of theCondés at Chan tilly gon e for ever

,and their hun ting-lodge

on ly left to its presen t owner 3 Sceaux, so famous for its

fétes and brillian t society,demolished to make room for

a school of agriculture,— turn where we will, there is

the same story of n eglect,or desecration

,or destru ction .

58 SAINT S IM ON.

But,in Saint Simon ’

s time,each of these palaces was

Versaill es on a small er scale. Le N6tre had plann ed thepark

,and laid out the garden s ; Man sard had design ed

the rooms ; Le Brun had pain ted the ceilings ; a royalprin ce held his Court there

,with his own se t of court

ie rs,his parasites

,his lackeys

,his troops of servan ts

and retain ers. There was an endless stream of visitors,

who passed much as they do n ow from on e coun tryhouse to an other

,— great hun ting-parties

,ball s and mas

que rad e s, and gambling protracted to the small hoursof the morn ing. Saint Cloud seems to have been themost popular of all these abodes of royalty. It servedas a half-way house between Paris and Versaill es

,and

was con stan tly fill e d with n obles gomg to or comingfrom the Court . The pleasur es of every kind of game

,

the singular beau ty of the place itself,with a thousan d

carriages standing ready for the legions of sightseers,

the music,the good cheer— all this

,

”says Sain t Simon

,

made of it a palace of delights .

The master of Sain t Cloud was Mon sieur , the king’s

brother,the n oisiest an d liveliest of the Bourbons

short,corpul en t

,without n atur al dign ity, always steeped

in perfumes and bedizen ed with j ewellery,a great talker

,

an d a great glutton,—afi

able and polite,and good—natured

to excess. But, excepting that he had courage and acertain kn owledge of the world

,he was absolutely good

for n othing,—a weak

,suspicious

,meddlesome busybody.

Monsieur’s first wife was Henrietta of England,a

charming an d accomplished prin cess,but she had died

sudden ly in 1 670. Then he had married the daughter ofthe Elector Palatin e

,gen erally kn own as Madame de

Baviere,

”who was as mascul in e in her habits as her hu s

MONSIEUR.

”59

band was efieminate . She was German at heart,an d

n ever really d omesticated herself in her Fren ch home.All her affection s turn ed to her beloved Heid e lbe rg , whereshe woul d rather (she says) have a good plate of sourkrout and smoked sausages than all the delicacies youcould offer her. While Monsieur was hun ting

,or e n

te rtain i ng his friends at Sain t Cloud, Madame was tak1ng long solitary walks, or writing in terminable lettersin a little back room with German palad in s depicted on

the tapestry,or talking with her little German maid

Be ssola.

Saint Simon always speaks respectfully of Madame.Al though she had the figur e and the roughn ess of aSwiss guard

,

”she was true an d hon est— sin cere both in

her likes and dislikes— and these were rare qualitiesat Versaill es . Moreover, she shared his abhorren ce ofMadame d e Main ten on . All the evil

,she says

,

that has ye t been written of this diabolical woman , stil lfalls short of the actual truth. She especially dislikedto se e the young prin cesses waiting upon the greatlady

,handing her the dishes and changing the plates.

Madame looked on in sil en t indignation,and when asked

to help them “ I have n ot been brought up to su chmean services

,she an swered

,and am too old to g ive

myself up to such chil d’

s play.

Madame’s pride suffered a severe blow in 1 692. Theking had determin ed that her son

,then the Duke d e

Chartres and afterwards ‘the Regen t Orlean s,shoul d

marry Mademoiselle de Blois— on e of hi s illegitimatedaughters. Natur all y en ough, Madame

’s strict n otions

of propriety were outraged by the mere thought ofsuch a mésal li

'

ance , but she could n ot help herself.

60 SAIN T S IM ON.

Louis had se t his heart on the marriage 3 n either herhusband n or her son dared to say a word against it ;and Madame had t o give her con sen t, —which she gave

,

says Sain t Simon , with tears in her eyes and fury inher heart.”The same even ing

I found al l the world talking in little groups, and greataston ishment depicted on every face. Madame kept walking up and down the gallery with her favourite maid of

honour— striding along with great steps,he r handkerchi ef

in her hand, talking and gesticulating in a loud tone, andactin g admirably the part of Ceres furiously searching forher daughter Proserpin e, and demand ing her back fromJupite r . Every on e left the ground

cl e ar for her,and only

passed through the gallery on their way to the drawingroom. Mon seign eur and Monsieu r had sat down to lan squ e n e t 3 and n ever was anything so shamefaced and utterlyd iscon certed as Mon sieur’s coun tenan ce and whole appearan ce. His son (the Duke of Chartres) se emed in despair, andthe bride-elect in the greatest sorrow and embarrassmen t .

“At supper the king showed his usual ease of mann er.Madame’s eyes were full of tears, which fell from time totime

,though she dried them now and then

,as she looked

round at every face as if to se e what they thought of itall . Her son also had his eyes very r e d

, and n e ither ofthem could eat anything. I noticed that the king offeredMadame n early al l the d ishes in fron t ofh im

,and that she

refused them all with a rudene ss which did not in the leastd imin ish his air of respect and politeness . It was also muchremarked that after leaving the table

,and when the circle

round his Majesty was d ispersing,the king made a very

marked and low reveren ce to Madame, during which she

performed such a comple te pirouette that the king, as he

raised his head, found n othing but her back towards him,

onl y removed a step n earer the door.

MONSIEUR.

”6 1

The next morn ing Madame was at the levée , and he r

son approached her, as he did every day, to kiss her hand .

Bu t just then Madame gave him such a soun ding box on the

e ar,that i t was heard some paces off

,and

,d e livered as it

was in the presen ce of the whole Court,covere d the un for

tunate prin ce with confusion , and excite d prodigious astoni shme n t in the crowd of lookers—on

,of whom I was on e .

Mon si eur soon disappears from the Memoirs. His

life of gluttony and dissipation had ruin ed his health 3and on e morn ing his con fessor good little Father T revoux

”— told him plain ly that he was not going to bedamn ed on Mon sieur’s accoun t ; that he must change hishabits and take care of himself 3 that he was old, usedup, fat, short-n ecked, and to all appearan ces would d ieof apoplexy, and that very soon . These were terriblewords (says Sain t Simon ) to a prin ce, the most voluptuous and most attached to life that has ever beenkn own 3

”and Mon sieur said his prayers more frequen tly,

grew tm'

ste,and talked less than usual that is to say,

on ly about as much as three or four women .

Shortly afterwards there was a scen e between him

and the kin g at Marly, m which both lost their tempers,and Mon sieur came out from the in terview with his faceso flushe d and inflame d with passion , that some of the

ladies suggested he should be bled at on ce but morefor the sake of saying something than anything else.”

Un fortun ately, however, his surge on was old and not

skili ul with the lan cet,

he had missed fire before.”Mon sieur did n ot wish to be bled by him

,and

,in order

n ot to vex him,would n ot be bled by any on e else.

The consequen ce was that he died of apoplexy the sameeven ing. There was great con sternation both at Marly

62 SAINT S IMON.

and Sain t Cloud, and the usual confusion followed in thehousehold —the women especially

,who had lost the ir

amusemen t and con sideration ,runn ing hither and thither

,

and shrieking with dishevelled hair like so manyBacchan tes .

” The king wept a good deal. Madameshut herself up in her room,

and,

“ in the midst of hergrief

,kept calling out No conven t ! Let no on e speak

of a conven t 1 I will have n othing to do with a conven tThis excellen t pri n cess had n ot lost her reason

,for

she kn ew by the terms of her marriage settlemen t thatwhen she became a widow, she might choose betweena chateau and a convent.”As a matter of fact she

retired to n either on e n or the other,but still lived on

at Sain t Cloud.

At Chan tilly was the palace of the Condés, and herelived Henri de Bourbon

,gen erally kn own as M . l e

Prin ce,the son of the great soldier of the Fronde.

Sa in t Simon gives him a terribly bad character ; allthe n obler qualities of the Grand Condé”seemed tohave been distorted and perverted in his successor

,

an unnatural son ,a cruel father

,a terrible husband

,

a d etestable master, a dangerous n eighbour ; withoutfriendship and without friends

,and in capable of having

any.

His un fortun ate wife suffered terribly from his fits

of passion 3 and although she was herself disgustinglyugly

,virtuous

,and foolish

,this did n ot preven t her

husban d being j ealous of her. He abused her, kickedan d beat her, an d dragged her about with him fromplace to place at all hours of the day and n ight. His

own habits were most eccen tric ! he had always fourdinn ers ready for him at his various coun try-houses

4 SAINT S IMON.

morts that took place on these occasions n early madehi s doctor expire with laughter. At last

,to every on e’s

great relief,in 1709

,M . l e Prin ce died in real earn est.

Not a soul regretted him ; n either servan ts, n or friends,n or children

,n or wife. Madame la Prin cesse— the poor

,

little,ugly

,forsaken woman— did indeed shed some tears

,

but apologised for her i n con sisten cy in doing so.

M . l e Duc,who succeeded to the famil y hon ours

on ly survived his father some eleven mon ths. Like therest of Condé’s descendan ts, he was marvellously short,like a gn ome

,with a mon strous head and a proj ecting

stomach,an d a complexion of a livid yellow. He

had an air so haughty and audacious,that on e coul d

hardly get accustomed to him. Al l the fur'iesseemed to torment him perpetually, and to make him as

terrible as those wil d an imals which appear to be onl ycreated to devour and make war upon the human race.Even his pleasan try took a dangerous turn , and his

guests at Chan till y l iire d in terror of their lives. He

threw a plate at Coun t Fie squ e’

s head for ven turin g tocon tradict him at

"

table 3 and he poison ed San teuil (agood—n atured writer of vars d e soci été) by emptying abox of Span ish snuff into his champagn e - glass tose e what the effect of it woul d be .

”1 It was not long,

adds Sain t Simon,before he was en lighten ed, for the

un fortun ate poet died the same even ing i n horr ibleagony.

1 T his was not the first time that Sante uil had suffe re d from the

high spir its of his fine fr i e nd s at Chantilly . One eve n ing at suppe r,Madame la Du che sse

,affronte d at some r e al or suppose d n e gle ct of

his,boxe d his e ar s , and the n , on his looking angry, thr ew a glass of

wate r in his face,obse rving p le asantly that it was on ly the rain afte r

the thunde r.

MADAME LA DUCHESSE . 65

It is pleasan t to turn from M . le Duc to Madame laDuchesse (a daughter of Louis by Madame de Mon tespan ).Although Sain t Simon both feared and hated her— and

with some reason , as we shall s e e hereafter— he cann othelp admir ing her, and he has d escribed her as thequeen of pleasure and delight, with a figu r eformed by the tenderest loves,

”and with all the charms

and all the dangers of the s iren of the poets 3 lovin gn o on e

,and kn own to love no on e

,yet irresistible even

with those who most hated her 3 yet, with all her attraction s

,cruel

,heartless

,and implacable— a faithless frien d

and a relentless en emy. How she reign ed over thesociety at Meudon , and how she domin eeredMonse ign eur, be told in an other chapter.

CHAPT ER VI.

MADAM E D E MA IN T EN ON.

MADAME DE MAINTENON is still the same femme incom

p r ise that she was in he r own day. N0 two criticsagr ee in their estimate of her life an d character. Wehave two pictures of her so utterly un like

,that they seem

to describe two d ifferen t person s 3 the popular on e , drawnby Voltaire and Sain t Simon

,repre senting he r as utterly

false an d un scrupulous,cruel and bigoted

,a heartless

adven turess— while from the other canvas there smilesupon u s the gracious and be n e fice n t foundress of Sain tCyr , the devoted wife, and the much - enduring and

much—malign ed keeper of the royal con scien ce . Whichof these two portraits is the truer on e

,must be left to

higher authorities to d etermin e 3 but, even taking heras we find her

,on the eviden ce of her own letters

,and

accepting all that her apologists have foun d to say in

her favour,we can on ly con clude

,with Madame da

Deffand,in con ceiving “ a high opin ion of her min d

,

little esteem for her heart,an d n o taste for her person ;

but a thorough belief in her sincerity. Those againwho read Sain t Simon ’

s accoun t of her, must rememberthat

,in he r case

,he is the most partial and prejudiced

MADAME DE MAINT ENON. 6 7

of witnesses. He hated her so in ten sely,that if she

had possessed all the virtues an d all the graces that everfell to the lot of woman

,she would still have been to

him the widow Scarron who had made herself a queen .

He n ever men tion s her n ame without add ing some termof abuse— “

a creole,

”“an old sorceress

,

”an obscure

and artful maid—servan t,

”“ a woman of the streets .

Indeed he proves too much again st his en emy . Hadshe been all that he says she was— a false an d se lfish

in tr iguan te , mean ,narrow-minded

, and thoroughly un

scrupulous, con sisten t onl y in her love of power”

she coul d hardly have been hon oured an d almost idolisedby a prin ce like Louis, with h is strong common—sen seand keen insight in to character. Sain t Simon wouldsay that he was bewitched by this en chan tress . Y e s 3

but would the charm have lasted thirty years ! Duringal l these years we find n othing but the most devotedrespect and attachmen t on on e side

,and the most un

wearied care and solicitude on the other. If Madamede Main ten on was“ n othing better than Becky Sharp on

a grander scale,surely tim e must have found her out.

An adven turess cann ot keep on the mask for ever.Bu t putting her character aside for the presen t

,no

roman ce ever con tain ed in ciden ts so strange as therealities of he r life. The daughter of a broken spendthrift— “

p eu t—e

tr e g enti lhomme,

”says Sain t Simon— born

in a prison on a foreign island 3 so sickly as an infan t,

that she was on ce n early thrown in to the se a for deadon the homeward v oyage 3 then left a penn iless orphan ,

and earn ing her livelihood as a half—starved drudge in a

relative’s household,

—feeding the poultry and measuringout the corn 3 then imprison ed in a conven t, and perse

68 SAINT S IMON.

outed by nun s and priests to change her creed ; afterwards married out of pity by Scarron

,a crippled and

deformed bufi'

oon -rhymester (cu l but in a fewyears le ft a widow in the prime of her beauty

,and

thrown upon the world without mon ey an d withoutposition

,- such was the story

,briefly told of the early

life of Fran coise d’Aubign é, ,afte rwards kn own in history

as Madame de Mainten on .

Sain t Simon hin ts at scandals conn ected with her lifein the days of her widowhood ; indeed he n ames severalof her more favoured admirers

,and the fact of her in ti

mate friendship with Nin on de l ’Enclos certainl y tellsagainst her. 1 But in this poin t her very faults probablysaved her from temptation . She was too cold, too selfish

,trop gauche pour l’amour

,

”as Ninon said

,

1— and

too greedy of reputation,ever to give way to any warmer

feeling than that of sen timen t. She could nurse a sickfriend

,she could sympathise with sorrow,

she could compassion ate suffering

,she coul d devo te herself to children ,

she could write charming letters brimful of tears and

sen sibility, —but she was in capable of love. For theon e absorbing idea of her life was

,that all men shoul d

speak well of her 3 and she se t herself to work to pleaseand fascinate the society in which she found herself atthe 11 1 e l d

Albre t and the Hotel Richelieu,just as she

afte rW z ds m td e it her busin ess first to captivate and

1 M. Fe u ille t de Conche s has in his posse ssion the original of a l e tt e r , written by Ninon to Saint Evremond

,which e nd s thu s ! “ S .

[Scarron] e stoit mon amy ; sa fame m’

a donn é mille plaisirs par sa

conve rsation e t,dans l e tems

, je l’

ai trouvé trop gauche pou r l’amour .

Quant aux d e tails, je n e scay r ie n,mais je lu i ai pr e stay sou ve nt ma

chambre jaune e e lle e t a. Villarse aux —Cau se r ie s d ’

un Cur ie ux, 11 .

MADAME DE MAINTENON. 69

then to in terest and amuse her royal husband. In on e

of her letters she tells u s the secret of her popularityin these days .

“Women liked me,

”she says

,

“ becauseI was pleasan t in company, an d troubled myself moreabout others than myself 3 and me n followed me becauseI had the beauty and the grace of youth. Indeed

,the

taste they had for me was more in the way of a gen eralfriendship than love.” So charming did she make herself

,that her con fessor on ce ordered her to be weari

some in society”by way of penan ce.But all this time

,in spite of her fin e friends and social

distin ction s, she was fighting a hard battle again st poverty.

Scarron’s death had left her with little more than the four

traditional law'

s d’

or which she is said to have broughthim by way of dowry ; and the pen sion which the poethad received from the Governmen t

,was refused to his

widow. She had barely sufficien t mon ey to buy food an dclothing. At last

,in 1664

,came the crisis of her life. She

happen ed to meet Madame de Mon tespan— the reign ingsul tana— at the Hotel d’

Al bre t, and the g r e at lady wasso charmed with her n ew acquain tan ce that she prevail edon Louis to gran t her a pension . Soon afterwards “thewidow Scarron was appoin ted govern ess toMon te span

s

children,secretly born e by her to the king 3 and as a

reward for the un ceasing care an d devotion with whichshe reared them from in fan cy to childhood, she receivedthe estate and title of Mainten on . But in these daysLouis regarded her with little favour. His presen ts toher

.had been made on the express con d ition that he

should n ever se e or ”hear of he r ag ain the creature,”

as he called his futur e w11e,was in sufferable,

”and he

had already given her far more than she deserved . The

70 SAINT S IM ON.

first sign of his prejud ice giving waywas the pleasur e heshowed in read in g some of her letters, givin g an accountof his childr en ’

s health,an d their Visits to various water

ing~

place S 3 and,even on the most trivial subj ects

,few

wr iters (as Sain t Simon is obliged to admit) could ex

press themselves so simply,so pleasan tly

,an d yet so

eloquen tly.

1 Then by d egrees his Majesty found thatthe lady could talk even more pleasan tly than she wrote ;that there was a solid i té about her conversation rarelyfoun d among her frivolous seX 3 that her temper n everVaried ; that her mann ers had an in comparable charm ;

and that her in telligen ce and good sen se soothed and

refreshed him after all he had endured from the moodsand humours of Madame de Mon tespan . An d thus byd egrees she became n ecessary to his comfort and con

ve n ie n ce 3 he resorted to her for assistan ce in his doubtsand d iffi cu ltie s ; she almost took the place of his con

fe ssor 3 she lectured him on the frailties of his past life 3and the two wou ld sit for hours together

,even ing after

even ing,— she talking earn estly an d gravely

,while he

listen ed to her in rapt atten tion .

Other circumstan ces con tributed to in crease her infiu - f

en ce. Louis had passed the prime of life,an d time had

sobered the strong passion s of his youth. Warn ings,

moreover,had come to him in various shapes . His

1 Napol e on r e ad he r l e tte rs at St H e le na, and said of them, T he

style , the grace , the pur ity of the langu age e nchant me . I think I

pr e fe r them to those of Madame d e Sevigne— the y t e ll you mor e(e ll e s cou s d i sen t p lus d e

Madame d e Mainte n on le ft fou rt e en volume s of le tte r s behind he r, ,

and a comple te e d it ion of them is now b e ing e d it e d by M . T heophileLavallee— comple te , that is , as she le ft them 3 bu t she

se ems to havehe rse lf purpose ly d e stroye d many of the most important.

72 SAINT S IMON. e

beautiful as the day to the last hour of her life ; stillcharming all hearers with that graceful play of wit pe culiar to her family

,and kn own as the esp r i t d e M or temar t;

and still occasionally indulgin g in sall ies of that ridiculewhich had formerly so keen an edge

,that the court iers

avoided her wind ows at Versaill es if she was standingin the balcony

,for it was worse (so they said) than

passing under a drawn sword. Like other fair pen iten ts, Mon tespan apparen tly found it eas1er to mortifyher body than to curb her tongue.Althou g h always l n excellen t health

,the fear of death

haun ted her con tinually. She even paid women to sit

up all n ight long in her bedroom,and kept candl es burn

ing at the windows while she slept. But when deathcame upon her at last

,these terrors disappeared

,and she

died with the most perfect resign ation . Shortly beforeshe expired

,An tin

,her on ly legitimate son

,arrived and

asked to se e his mother. With the heartlessn ess thatseems to have been his second nature

,he looked at

her curiously and coldl y for a few momen ts,wished

her farewell,and scarcely waited till she breathed her

last. He gave some direction s about her fun eral,and

then galloped off to hun t with his friend Mon seign eur.Her other children showed a more natural feeling, andmourn ed for her with some sin cerity 3 but (Sain t Simontells u s) it was the poor people in her n eighbourhood, onwhom she had lavished half her fortun e in her latteryears

,who showed the most genu in e sorrow. Madame

de Main ten on shed tears when she heard the n ewste ars of remorse

,Sain t Simon thinks ; but the king,

for whom Mon tespan had sacrifice d her happin ess and

honour,showed such indifferen ce, that even the Duchess

MADAME DE MAINTENON’

S MARRIAGE.

of Burgundy expressed surprise that her death had n ot

affected him more. She has been dead to me,

”he

replied,ever sin ce I bade her farewell years ago .”

Meanwhile fortun e seemed to smile upon Monte span’

s

successful rival . In 1 683 the queen,Maria Theresa

,

died— happy,perhaps

,in bei ng at last released from a

life of sorrow and n eglect. Forced always to ign ore theinfid e l itie s of her husban d

,she had been grateful for the

smallest kindn ess, and especially for the con siderationalways shown her by Madame de Main ten on . I be

lieve,

”said the poor woman

,that God raised her up

to give me back the heart that Madame d e Mon tespanhad robbed me of. Never have I been so well treatedby the king as from the day he first listen ed to her.Not only did she give the Marchion ess a portrait of herself

,se t in diamonds 3 but on her deathbed she drew off

her sign et-ring and put it on Madame d e Main ten on ’

s

hand,thus giving her

,as it were

,a right of succession .

The Marchion ess was then leaving the room,when the

Duke of Rochefoucauld stopped her. This is n ot thetime to leave the king,

”said he 3 you must stay

,for

his Majesty has n eed of you 3 and she stayed accord

That she was actually married to Louis before twoyears had elapsed there can be n o reason able doubt.Voltaire speaks of their marriage as a well -kn own fact ;and Sain t Simon says that Bon tems

,the king’s valet

,

among other marks of confide nce,had been i ntrusted

with the arrangemen t of the midn ight Mass held in thewin ter of 1 685, when the Archbishop of Paris solemn ise d their marriage befor e a few witn esses . Indeed themarriage would have been made public the n ext day had

74 SAIN T S IM ON.

n ot Louvois gon e on his kn ees before Lou is,and im

plor e d him n ot to d isgrace himself in the eyes of Europe.But

,whether ackn owledged or not Sain t Simon does n ot

con ceal his own belief that,in celebrating this marriage

at all,Louis had sealed his own doom.

Thus it was that Provid e n ce pre pare d for the proude stof kings the profoun d e st, the most public

,the most last

ing , and the most unhe ard of humiliation .

that resulted—he r triumph, his en ti re confide n ce in he r , hisrare d e penden ce on her, he r absolute powe r, the public an dun ive rsal adoration paid her by Min isters, gen erals, theroyal family— al l

,in a word

,at he r feet ; e ve rything good

and lucky obtained through he r ,an d everything re fuse d unlessshe aske d it ; m e n

,affairs of state

, patronage, justice, favour,religion—e verything without e xception was in he r han ds,and the king and the state were he r Victims. What kind of

woman she was, this in cre d ible en chan tre ss, and how she

gove rn e d without a break,wi thou t an obstacle , without the

slighte st cloud,for more than thirty whole ye ars— this is the

in comparable spectacle which it con ce rn s u s to retrace, as ithas long si nce con cern ed the whole of Europe.

From this year,1 685, Madame de Main ten on was

Queen of Fran ce in all but the n ame,and n o queen in

history was ever so exclusive or d ifficu lt of access. Herroom at Versailles was a san ctuary to which n on e were

admitted but the royal family, the Min isters of State,

an d a few in timate friends . Sain t Simon himself probably n ever se t foot across the threshold

,and all he

kn ew of its mistress was from some of the more privil e g e d courtiers . In this room Madame de Main ten onremain ed the whole day when she was n ot at Sain t Cyr ,en shrin ed in what she called her “

n iche”—a threecornere d sofa of i e d damask 3 and here she received her

MADAME DE MAINT ENON 75

Visitors, always seated herself, and n ever“

rising even toreceive the Queen of England when she came over fromSain t Germain s to call on her. Occasionally

,when

Lou is had n o work with his Min isters,select d inn ers

,

sometimes followed by music or theatricals , took place inher apartmen t 3 but ord inarily the Min isters would bringtheir portfolios after dinn er, and the king would workfor hours while Madame de Mainten on sat at her em

broidery listen ing to the d iscussion,but n ever volun

teering her advice, kn owing that, as a matter of fact,

it would always be asked soon er or later. Qu e

p ensc-t-eh Votr e Soli d i té Louis would sometimes ask

in a ban tering mann er. She would smile,says Sain t,

Simon,pretend utter ignoran ce

,talk of something else

,

but even tually le d back the conversation to the poin tshe wished to carry, or to the n ame of the person she

W 1she d to favour. But she could n ot always calculateon getting what she asked

,an d sometimes me t with a

rebuff that made her shed tears at the time,and kept

he r on thorn s for days afterward s . Even the mostfavoured Min ister could n ever make certain that hispetition for some particular candidate would n ot meetwith an abrupt refusal.

You do n ot kn ow how the land lies,

said on e of themto a friend . Of twen ty matters that we bring before theking

,we are certain that he will pass n in e te en as we wish 3

bu t we ar e e qual ]y certain that the twe n tie th will be d e cid e dagain st u s. Which of the se twen ty will be decided again stour wish and d e sire is what we can n e ve r tell

,and ve ry often

i t is just that matter in which we are most in t e re sted . Theking reserves this stroke (bisqu e ) to make u s fe e l that he ismaster

,and that it is he who re ign s ; an d if by chan ce some

6 SAINT S IM ON

thing is proposed about which he has a strong opin ion,and

whi ch is su fficie n tly importan t for u s to have an opin ionabout it as well, either on accoun t of the thing itself or forthe desir e we have that it should succeed— it is very ofte nthen

,in the rare even t of i ts happen ing

,that we are certain

to get well scolded (une sor ti e 312m) ; bu t as a matte r of fact,when the scoldin g is over, an d the afiair fallen through, theking— con tent with havi ng shown u s that we are powerless

,

and sorry to have annm e d u s— become s supple,and then

comes the time when we can do all we want.’

As an in stan ce of Madame de Main ten on ’

s power,

Sain t Simon tells u s that even her old servan t Nan on,

who had followed her fortun es from first to last,was

always embraced by the prin cesses, and saluted withprofound bows by the Min isters 3 and when the Duchessd e Lud e wished for the post of Maid of Hon our to theyoung Duchess of Burgun dy, she sen t her maid withtwen ty thousand crown s to Nan on ,

as the simplest wayof gain ing her obj ect

,and the same even ing she was

gazetted to the post. So it is with Courts,”our author

moralises ;“ a Nan on sells the most importan t and

brilli an t office s of state 3 and a rich lady— a Duchess of

n oble birth, without chil dren or ties of any kin d, butfree an d her own mistress— is foolish en ough to sell herself in to slavery at such a price.”

On e memorable scen e is recorded by Sain t Simon as

showing the profoun d respect with which Madame deMain ten on was always treated by the king in public.He would have been a hundred times freer with thequeen

,an d shown far less gallan try .

” The occasionwas the camp at Compiegn e i n 1 698, —on e of thosemagn ifi ce n t displays of mimic warfare in which Louisdelighted . Even Sain t Simon ’

s usual command of lan

CAMP AT COMPIEGNE . 77

guage almost fails him when he tries to describe the fullsplendour of the spectacle so startling

,so en tran cing

,

on e must say so frightfully gorgeous”~ —~the avenu es of

ten ts covered with tapestry and strewn with carpets,the

ranges of kitchen s an d stables,the aqueducts fifty miles

long which brought water for the immen se host,the

roads blocked with endless train s of pack - horses an d

sumpter -mul es,the crowds of camp - followers

,the

musicians and pastry-cooks, the tailors and wig -makers,

the banquets served on gold an d silver plate,to supply

which the n eighbouring forests were ran sacked for gameand ven ison ,

an d the seas for fish ; and then the splendour of the review itself

,when sixty thousand picked

troops exercised,manoeuvred

,and wen t through all the

d etails of a regular campaign under the eyes of Lou isand his Court.

Bu t a spectacle of another sort, that I could paint fort}rye ars hen ce as well as to-day, so strongly d id it impress me

,

was that which, from the summit of this rampart, the kingpresented to all his army and to the innumerable crowd of

spectators of all. kinds in the plain bel ow.

“Madame d e Mainten on sat alon e, in her sedan -chair,

facing the plain and the troops, betwee n its three windowsdrawn up, her porters having re tired to a d istan ce. On

the left pole in fr ont sat the Duche ss of Burgundy,and

on the same side,stand ing in a semicircle, we re Madame

la Duchesse,the Prin cess of Con ti , and all the ladi e s, and

behind them again there were some men . At the rightwindow was the king, standing, an d a little in the rear asemicircle of the most distinguished me n of the Court . T he

king was n early always un covered , and every now and the nstooped to speak to Madame d e Maintenon , and e xplain toher what she saw,

and the reason of each movemen t. Eachtime that he did so she was obliging enough to open the

78 SAINT S IMON.

window four or five in che s,'

bu t n ever half-way,for I took

particular n otice,and I admit that I was more atten tive to

this spectacle than to that of the troops . Some times she

open e d the glasses of her own accord to ask some questionof him

,but ge n erally it was he who

,without waiting for

he r,stooped down to explain to her what was passing 3 and

sometimes; if she did not n otice him ,he tapped at the g lass

to make her open it . He n ever spoke save to her,except

when he gave a few brief ord e rs,or just an swere d the

D uchess of Burgundy , who wanted to make him speak,and

with whom Madame d e Mainten on carrie d on a conversationby sign s without ope n ing the fr on t window, through whichthe young prin ce ss screamed a few words at her

'

now andthen . I carefu llywatched “ the faces of the bystand e rs . Al l

showed an embarrassed,timid

,and ste al thy surprise ; every

on e behind the chair and in the semicircle watched thisscen e more than what was gomg on in the army . The kingoften put his hat on the top of the chair in ord e r to g e t hishead in to speak, and this con tinual e xercise tired his loin svery much. Mon seign eur was on horseback in the plainwith the young prin ce s . It was about five o’clock in the

afternoon , and the we ather was as brillian t as could bedesired .

About the time when the town capitul ate d,Madame de

Maintenon apparently asked permission to go away, for theking called out, ‘The chairmen of Madame ! They cameand took he r away 3 in less

'

than a quarter of an hour afterward s the king retired also, and n early ev e rybody else.Many spoke W ith their eyes and nudged on e another as theywen t off

,or Whispered in their n eighbour

’s ear. Eve ry

body was full of what had taken place on the rampartsbetween the king an d Madame d e Mainten on . Even thesoldiers asked the mean ing of that sedan -chair

, and of theking eve ry mome nt stooping to put his he ad in sid e of it . It

became n e cessary gen tly to sile n ce these que stion s on the partof. the troops . What effe ct this sight had upon foreigners

present, and what the v said of it,may be imagin ed . All over

80 SAINT S IMON.

con sole Louis,who would come back from his day’s

hun ting melan choly and dispirited 3 and how, when theeven in g came

,she was often so fatigued herself that she

could hold out n o longer,an d had to seek refuge in her

bed ; but even then she coul d n ot sleep from sheerwearin ess of m ind and body.

Louis himself n ever spared her,any more than he

spared the other ladies of hi s Court.

I have seen her,

”says Saint Simon

,travel from Marly

or Fontain ebleau so dangerously ill that on e could not tellwhether she would not d i e on the road . Bu t

,whatever her

state might be,the king woul d come to he r room at the

usual hour, atte nded by his su ite,without thought or care.

It has often happen ed that he has thus come in while she

was in the agon ies of a feverish attack . and ordered all thewin dows to be ope n ed

,if he ‘

found them shut,to let in the

air . If he required cards or music, her he adache or any

othe r infirmity was n o hindran ce. She must endure it al lwithout complaint

,and with a hundred candles flar ing in

her eyes .

Then she had other vexation s. Her brother,D

Au

bign e,was a con stan t source of ann oyan ce to her. He

was always in debt and d ifficul tie s,and many of her

letters are addr essed to him urging pruden ce and economy. He was only a captain in the Guards

,but com

plain ed that he ought to have been a marshal at leastHowever

,

’as he said on ce to some on e who wondered

how he could afford to play for such high stakes,

“he

had taken out his baton in mon ey .

” Then he marriedb ad ly

,and things got worse. At last Madame de Main

ten on persuaded him to go in to a kin d of retreat fordecayed gentlemen n ear Sain t Sulpice 3 but D

’Aubign é

found this life so in tolerably du ll that he made his

SAINT CYR . 8 1

escape in to Paris, where he relapsed i nto his old habits .

Final ly, Madame de Main ten on , in despair, pu t him underthe charge of the stupidest priest in Sain t Sulpice

,

who followed him everywhere like a shadow,and made

his life a burden to him . Sain t Simon says D ’

Aubign é

was a good,hon est fell ow

,Very d ifferen t from his sister

,

and that it was the best fun in the world to hear himtalk of the king hi s brother-m-law

,

”and of the “widow

Scarron”of former days .

Sain t Cyr was on ly a few miles from Versaill es,

dangerously n ear,as some people thought

,like a dove

cot n ear a hawk’s n est

,—and in its lectur e—rooms and

garden s Madame de Main ten on would pass whole days,

when she could be spared from Court,playi ng that

“75 18 of Men tor and Minerva

,

”which was her secondnature ; directing, observing, advising, teaching classes,and surrounded by the you ng girls

,whom she e n cour

aged to talk and question her ; telling them stories of

her past life and of the world outside their walls,or

writing tales and conversation s to amu se them. Of

this busy side of. her life she n ever grew wearied.

Nothin g,

she wr ites,

is dearer to me than my

children at Sain t Cyr . I love the whole place,even

to the dust ben eath their feet.”

By way of giving them ease and r efin eme nt of man

n e r,some of the elder girls were taught to act scen es

from “ Cinn a and “Andromache but in the latterpiece (there are four lovers in it) they seem to haveoverdon e their parts

,and Madame de Main tenon writes

in con sequen ce to Racin e ! “ Our girls have just actedAn dromache

,

and have acted it so well that they shalln ever act it again

,or any other of your pieces 3 and she

F.CO—XO

82 SAIN T S IM ON.

requires him to write something moral, serious, and his

torical with n o love in it.

”Racin e obeyed

,and wrote

“ Esther, with which Madame de Main ten on was

charmed,

-not so much by the beauty of the words as

by the scarcely -veil ed all egory which made her thechaste and modest Jewish maiden who triumphs overthe imperious Vashti (Mon tespan ) and the d isgrace dAman (Louvois), an d become s the bride of the greatand ben efice nt Ahasuer us (Louis) . The piece was actedagain and again

,and on on e occasion Madame de Sévign é

was presen t, an d says, The harmony between the music,verses

,hymn s

,and personages of the drama was so per

fe ct as to leave n othin g to be desired . All was simple,

inn ocen t,sublime

,and touching

,and the hymn s were

of a beauty n ot to be listen ed to without tears .

It was to Sain t Cyr that Madame de Mainten on r e

tired,

“ after seeing, as she said,

“ the king die like asain t an d a hero 3

”an d it was here that she found the

rest an d repose she had,by her own accoun t

,longed

for all her life. She lived in the completest retir ement—reading an d writing, frequen tly attending Mass,receiving the v isits of a few friends

, an d almost forgotte n by the world. She was well provided for bythe liberal pen sion allowed her by the Regen t

,

“whichher disin te r e s e e dn e ss had made n ecessary 3

”and

,Sain t

Simon adds,

n o abbess,n o daughter of Fran ce

,was

so absolute, so pun ctually obeyed, so feared,so re

spe cte d, and at the same time so loved, as she was byall immur ed within Sain t Cyr .

”We on ly on ce hear of her retreat being disturbed

,and

that was on the occasion of the Czar’s visit to Paris in1717. When she heard he was coming to se e her

,Madame

MADAME DE MAINT ENON’

S DEAT H. 83

de Mainten on wen t to bed at on ce, as the safest place ofrefuge 3 but she was n ot safe even there. The Czar en teredher room

,and

,with the ruden ess of his n ation

,drew aside

the curtains of her bed and told hi s in terpreter to ask

he r what her sickn ess was. A great age (un e grcmd evz

e i lle se ) was the reply ; and then,after a prolonged

stare, his Majesty withdrew without a word, and she

was left in peace. 1 It is almost the last time that hern ame appears in history. She died at the age of

eighty-three,listen ing to the hymn s of her favourite

pupil s,and was buried in the chapel attached to the

conven t Your house shall n ever fail you ,”she had

on ce written to the Abbess, so long as there shall'

be

a king of Fran ce 3 and‘

up till 1793 her prophecy heldgood. But in that year the storm of the Revolutionbroke upon Sain t Cyr ! the teachers and pupils weredispersed

,the Cloisters desecrated, and the body of the

foundress was torn from its coffin . By the pious careof her relation , the Duke of Ncailles, her remain s wereafterwards restored to their former resting—place, an d asimple slab of black marble may still be seen ,

let in tothe wall of the chapel, with the modest in scription

CY G iT MADAME DE MAINT ENON

1 635 1719 1836.

l

1 This is the ord inary account ; but Saint Simon says, “ The Czarsaid not a word to he r nor she to him.

CHAPT ER VII.

SAINT SIMON’

S LIFE AT COURT .

ENOUGH has been already said to show that Saint Simonwould find himself in troubled waters at Court. In

fact,if we except the two old Dukes of Beauvilliers and

Chevreuse, there was scarcely a n obleman at Versailleswhom he could call his friend . He coii ld n ot d issociate their personal qualities from what he con sid ered theirdegraded position . What good thing could be hoped orlooked for from me n whose highest ambition it was tohold the king’s stirrup when he moun ted his horse

,or

hand him the towel when he had washed his hands !What could be expected from peers of lower degree

,when

the grandest of grand seign eurs— the Duke of Roche foucauld— regarded it as the glory of his life n ever to haveslept for a single n ight away from Versaill es for fortyyears ! The great n ames of history had been tarn ishedin the persons of their degen erate descen dan ts . Theirvery titles had lost their proud sign ificance . Those ofCoun t and Marquis,

”he says,have been dragged in the

dust by the number of these n obodies,without an acre of

land,who have usurped them

,and hen ce they have fallen

away to n othing 3 so much so that even people of d istin ction

,who are Marquis or Coun t, are absurd en ough (if

SAINT e ou’

s MODEST ASPIRAT IONS . 85

they will allow me to say so) to be ann oyed when on e

gives them their title in addressing them .

Besides losing their an cestral prestige, the n obility hadalso lost their political influ en ce 3 in deed they regardedpolitics as ben eath their n otice

,an d on ly fit for the son s

of tradesmen an d lawyers like Colbert and Le Tellier.They had to choose between the desk and the sword

,

says Sain t Simon,

an d they had chosen the latterThey were given up to ign oran ce, to frivolity, to pleasur e

,to foolish extravagan ce

,— of n o u se on earth except

to get killed in battle,and to stagnate all the rest of their

time in the most d eadly idlen ess .

”1 On e day, as Sain tSimon was declaiming in his usual fashion again st thedegradation of his own order, in the presen ce of hisfriends

,the two old dukes

They let me talk on,

’ he says,for some time. At last

the Duke of Beauvi lliers got very r e d,and asked me in a

severe tone,What is it

,then

,you wish for yourself that

would con te n t you 2I will tell you

, sir ,’I an swered

,warmly 3 ‘I should like

to be born of a good old family 3 to have a fin e e state also,

with fin e privilege s attached to it,without dreaming of beingextremely rich. I should be ambitions of being raised to thefirst dign ity of my own part of the coun try 3 I should like

,

be sid e s, some importan t office at Court ; to enjoy all that ;and then— I should be con ten t .’

The two duke s listen ed to m e,looked at on e an other

,

smiled , said n othing in reply, and a momen t afterwards pu rpose ly changed the subject .

1 In the same way De T ocqu e ville consid e rs on e of the proximate

cau se s o f the Fr e nch Revolution to have be e n the u se le ss,id le

,an d

r e stle ss live s passe d by the n oblesse,

”who had r e taine d the ir fe u dal

pr ivile ge s without the ir political powe r .—(Se e his e ssay in the ‘W e st

minste r Review ’

of 1836, and Ancie n Re gime , p .

86 SAINT S IM ON.

The sublime egotism of these aspiration s,and the

frankn ess with which he confid e s them to his friendsand to u s —are highl y characteristic of Sain t Simon .

This person al vein pervades almost every chapter. . Hisown views

,his own ideas

,his own theories — how he

lectured this friend,and how he den oun ced that en emy

—what he thought of theBull Un ig em'

tus,what he wrote

on the train in g of the Dauphin ,what he said on almost

every subject of the day,— all this, while it gives to hisMemoirs an in terest and ind ividuality of their own

,cer

tain ly goes far to justify Marmonte l’

s criticism - thatSaint Simon saw n othing in the n ation but the Nobility 3 n othing in the Nobility but the Dukes and Peers 3and n othing in the Dukes and Peers but HIMSELF.

His lawsuit against Luxemburg 1 was on ly the prelude to a series of attacks upon some of the proudesttitles in the Fren ch peerage. Amongst others

,the

Lorrain es had in curred his deadly enmity by what hecalls their tracasse r i es. The Duke

of Lorrain e hadmarried Mademoiselle

,daughter of Monsieur

,

”theking’s brother

,and had assumed “a ducal coron et

,with

the royal fle ur - de - lys, and had even claimed the titleof “Royal Highn ess”from the people in his duchy.Besides these acts

'

of in solen ce,the ladies of the family

had refused to carry round the alms-plate in the chapel—as if they were of the blood-royal. Then the otherCourt ladies began to think the duty un dign ifie d ; andat last n on e of the duchesses

,in cluding Madame de

Sain t Simon,woul d undertake it. The king expressed

his displeasure at this frivolous dispute,thinkmg , with

some justice , that Sain t Simon was the cause of it all.1 Se e p . 35.

88 SAINT SIM ON.

he always did so,and n ever found any on e

’s advice so

wise,so jud icious, and so useful.

But Sain t Simon n ever wen t as ambassador to Romeafter all. The appoin tmen t was can celled a few daysafter it was ann oun ced— to his wife’s (and possibly tohis own ) great relief 3 and he attributes this blow to hisdign ity to his en emies at Court, and , above all, to thestrange aversion of Madame de Mainten on .

”His veryvir tues

,he declares

,had told again st him in this matter.

Louis was j ealous of a young man reported to be n ot on lya boaste r

,a grumbler

,and full of theories,

”but besides,

to have talen t,learn ing

,capacity

,and application

,

short,to have every quality n ecessary to a statesman

(homme enfin tres p rop r e aux afiaz’

r e s) . Thus, whileme n far inferior ‘to him in tell ectually

,but more adroit

courtiers,were daily receivin g fresh hon our s and ap

pointme n ts,—pen sions

,and govern orships

,and abbeys

,

and prefermen ts of every kind, —Sain t Simon found himself left out in the cold

,unn oticed an d und istinguished.

Nor d id his position improve as time wen t on . In steadof makin g the attempt to swim with the stream

,an d

con ciliate his oppon en ts,he seems to have con tinually

made fresh en emies. Not . con ten t with attacking theLorrain es

,an d other peers

,on question s of preceden ce

,

he embroiled himself with the Meudon cabal”1 (theDauphin ’

s se t) 3 he made two bitter person al en emies inAn tin and the Duke of Main e— the ablest and most popular me n of the rising gen eration— an d he gave greatoffen ce to Loui s by betting five pistoles with some boastful courtier that the fortress of Lille would be taken bythe en emy before it could be relieved by Ve ndfime . As

1 Se e p. 147.

SAINT SIMON RET IRES T o LA FERTE. 89

he confesses, it was a rash and foolish wager,that ought

n ever to have been made 3 an d as the fact of the fortresssurrendering, after a heroic defen ce, in creased the king

s

prejudice again st this young duke, who seemed to be asunpatriotic as he was free of speech

,Sain t Simon soon

paid the penalty for his impruden ce, an d in deed began tofind his position at Court so embarrassing, with en emiesand calumn iators on all sid es of him

,that he determin ed

for a time to leave Versailles altogether, an d , as he says,to breathe a healthier an d more peaceful air at hiscoun try seat.There he was j oin ed by Chamillart, the disgraced

Foreign Min ister,who had been

,like his friend

,attacked

by some of the Dauphin ’

s clique at Meudon,an d who

had been too proud or too hon est to stoop to con ciliatethem. Sain t Simon tells u s how seren ely and cheerfully Chamillart bore his change of fortun e, but n oticesthat he would n ever be alon e for a momen t if he ‘ couldhelp it like a man who fears himself

,and seeks to

fil l the void he feels i n his own heart.After Chamillart had left, Sain t Simon still stayed onat La Fe rté ; in deed he had some idea of settling downthere altog e the r f bu t his wife, with her usual good sen se

,

poin ted out the absurdity of his thu s burying himself inthe coun try

,where he would soon get tired of his books

an d solitary walks. His friend Pon tchartrain (the Chance llor) took the same View, an d it en ded in Sain t Simon

s

return ing to Versail les .

He was greatly struck,on his return

,by the isolated

position of his old f rien d an d comrad e,the Duke of

Orlean s . This prin ce,who had always be e n more or less

out of favour at Court,had lately given mortal offen ce

0 SAINT S IMON.

to two powerful ladies, Madame de Main ten on and the

Prin cess d e s Ursins, by styling them,in an after—dinn er

speech,the She - Captain”and She - Lieuten an t”of

Fran ce. The sting of this j est lay in its eviden t truth,

and both these women determin ed to revenge themselves on the perpetrator of this fatal bon-mot. It

was n ot d iffi cu lt to injur e Orlean s’s reputation,for it was

already sufficien tly had . He was said to have con spiredagain st the Span ish Crown— to have in tended to divorce

(if n ot poison ) his own wife,then marry th e sister

in-law of the late King of Spain,and then imitate the

unnatural conduct of William III. of England,by de

thron ing his n ear relative,the Duke of Anj ou. A storm

of indign ation had broken out. Even Mon seign eur hadbeen roused from h is usual apathy, and had demandedthat Orlean s should be impeached on a charge of con

spiracy and high treason . This proposal was seriouslydebated in the . Cabin et, and the Chan cellor privatelyasked Sain t Simon what would be the proper form of

impeachmen t in such a case. Sain t Simon ,however

,

assured him that the hi gh treason,if committed at all,

was against Spain,n ot Fran ce

,and that the accused

must accordingly be tried by a Span ish, and not by aFren ch

,tribunal.

Sain t Simon n ext resolved to rescu e Orlean s,if

possible,from his degraded and isolated position at

Court, and , as a first step, to break off his liaison witha Madll e . de Sery (afterwards kn own as Madame d ’

Arg en

ton )— the Phyllis, without whom he declared, in somevery indifferen t verses

,life would be in supportable .

To break off this conn ection was a d ifficu lt as wellas a delicate task ; and those sixty pages

,in which

92 SAINT S IM ON.

Orlean s was so profoundly moved,as well he might

be,by this terrible after-d inn er scen e,

”that he soughtan in terview the same even ing with Madame de Mainten on

,who

,to his in ten se sur prise

,told him precisely

what Sai nt Simon had told him,even in the same

phrases and same arrangemen t of sen ten ce s .

”He was

in clin ed to suspect that his friend was in collusionwith “ that woman

,as he called her ; but after all,

as Marshal Be son s,who was presen t at the in terview

observed,there was n othing so very strange in this co

in ciden ce,for truth must be always the same

,whether

it came from the lips of Sain t Simon or of Madame deMain ten on .

Then Orlean s had an audien ce of the king, but Louishad received the poor pri n ce

s expression s of pen iten cewith so cold and stern an air

,that Orlean s return ed

from the in terview in a state of despair,which alarmed

his two friends .

“He thr ew himself on a sofa,and

sometimes stupefie d , sometimes cr uelly agitated,on ly

expressed his feelings by an appalling silen ce,or by a

torren t of sighs,sobs

,and tears

,While we were ourselves

agitated and excited by su ch a Violent paroxysm,and

restrain ed our j oy,and did n ot dare to speak

,an d coul d

with d ifficu lty persuade our selves that this conn ectionhad been so fortun ately broken off. A few days afterwards Madame d ’

Arg enton left the Palais Royal, and wehear

]

the last of her.Sain t Simon n ow thought it would be a good time to

make his own peace if possible with Louis,an d he accord

ingly reques ted a private aud ien ce in that precious halfhour between his Majesty

s toilet and morn ing Mass,when he made what we should now call “

a personal

HIS POSIT ION. 93

explanation . At first Louis listen ed with a haughtyair of atten tion ,

which graduall y soften ed in to a moreopen expression of kin dn ess an d satisfaction ,

”as Sain t

Simon pleaded his cause with his usual fervid eloquen ce 3an d the in terview ended by the king, with a fatherlyair

,

”giving him some good~humoured advice,not to

talk so much, nor to be so keen on question s of rank,

and so to avoid making person al en emies then he d ismissed him with a smiling and gracious bow.

From this time Sain t Simon ’s position at Court seems

to have improved . Previously he had n ot even had aroom at Versailles that he could call his own . Thatwhich he occupied had been len t him by his father—i hlaw

,De Lorges . But now a suite of six rooms was all otted

to b im in the n ew wing n ear the chapel. Each of theserooms had a sort of cabin et at the back ; and on e of

these cabin ets was turn ed in to what he call s his workshop .

”Here were his books and papers ! here in solitude and silen ce he could tran scribe each even ing theevents of the day

,and keep the j ournal on which his

Memoirs were founded. Here,too

,he could discuss

futur e schemes of State policy with his friends Chevreuseor Beauvilliers without fear of in terruption from unwe l

come visitors ; or hold such private in terviews as thathe has described to u s with the king’s confessor.But his active mind was n ever at rest. No soon erhad he extricated Orlean s from his embarrassmen t

,than

we find him busied in con triving a marriage betweenOrlean s’s daughter

,

“Mademoiselle,

”an d the Du e de

Berry— son of Mon seign eur,and grandson ofLouisXIV ,

— a most difficul t task,as these two bran ches of the royal

family were scarcely on speaking“

terms . Moreove r,the

94 SAINT S IM ON.

Meudon faction had other views for Mon seign eur’s son .

But the d ifficu ltie s on ly served to excite Sain t Simon ’

s

en ergies,and he made use of his in timate kn owledge of

the differen t cabals to play on e off against the otherwith con summate skill . He was fortunate en ough tosecure the goodwill of the ladies

,the Je su its

,and above

all of Madame de Main ten on ,and the king’s confessor

,

Pere l e Tellier,whose veto would have stopped the whole

busin ess. Next he had to overcome strong oppositionon the part of Mon se ign eur and “ the Meudon faction

,

who hated the very n ame of an allian ce with the Orlean sbran ch of the Bourbon s

,and who wished that Mon se ig

n e ur’

s son should marry the young daughter of Madamela Du chesse

,

”the head of their own society. At the firsthin t of the marriage projected by Sain t Simon

,Mon

seign eur,mild as he was usually

,exploded with anger.

Furthe rmore , it was n ecessary that Orleans should get theking’s formal con sen t to the match ; and Orleans was as

immovable as a log.

” It was with the greatest d ifli cu ltythat he could be i n duced even to write a letter on thesubj ect 3 and in the en d Sain t Simon had to write it himself

,and Orlean s made a fair copy of it. But, even then ,

Orlean s kept this precious letter in his pocket a wholeweek without daring to deliver it ; and it was on ly byactually pushing him b y the shoulders in to the royalpresen ce that Sain t Simon could induce him to presen t it.But the letter was given

,and the king read it carefully

through twice In a few days he called Mon seign eur,

and told him,with the air of a king and father

,

”thatthemarriage must take place 3 and Mon seign eur “did notdare to gainsay the king

,for the first time in his life.”

He stammered,hesitated

,and at last gave way. Indeed ,

96 SAINT S IM ON.

From the first he was devotedly attached to his wifeand for a little time she seemed to return his affection ;but soon she showed her character in its true light . Shedespised her easy an d gen tle husban d

,ridiculed his

piety,outraged an d in sulted him

,and herself carried

on in trigues that scandalised even the lax morality of

her own time. She was a model of all the Vices,

says Sain t Simon ,excepting avarice

,an d was the more

dangerous as she had art an d talen t to help her out.”

In pride she even surpassed her mother,the Duchess of

Orlean s,whom the duke always called “Madame Lucifer

,

and who smiled with pleasure at the complimen t.”

It is an instan ce,

”says Sain t Simon

,of how in this

world people work with their heads in a sack,and how

human pruden ce an d wisdom are sometimes con foundedby successes which have been reasonably devised

,and

which turn out detestable. We discovered,when

too late,that we had introduced a Fury

,whose on ly

thought was how to ruin those who had settled her inlife

,to i njure her ben efactors

,to make her husband and

her brother—in—law [the Duke of Burgundy] quarrel, andto put herself in the power of her en emies

,merely because

they were also the en emies of her n atural friends .

An addition al source of ann oyan ce to Sain t Simonwas the appoin tmen t of his wife as Lady—in -VVaiting

to this demon in petticoats . It was an hon our t hatthey would both have gladly declin ed

,but they had n o

choice in the matter. Not on ly did the Orlean s familyeagerly desir e it— possibly in the hope that Madame deSain t Simon ’

s good example might influ e nce this “modelof all the Vices”—but Madame de Main ten on and herladies had also se t their hearts on it

,and the kin g him

DUCHESS or BERRY. 97

self approved highl y of the selection . Orlean s had sug

gested that Sain t Simon might refuse,and Louis was

rather disquieted by the thought Your frien d is sometimes a little eccen tric 3 but refuse, oh n o —n ot when helearn s it is my desir e.

A few days afterwards the king summon ed Sain tSimon to his cabin et, and after paying him many com

pl ime n ts,and speaking in the highest terms of his wife

for n o man in the world kn ew how to do this betterwhen he chose

,and above all when he was offering you

some bitter pill that he wished you to swall ow —he

in timated his royal wishes in the matter,an d Sain t

Simon did not ven ture even to hin t at disobedien ce.

The king then smiled again more chee rfully,like a man

who und e rstands you well,and who is relieved at n ot having

me t with the re sistan ce he had expected,and who is con ten twith that sort of liber tywhich he has foun d

,an d whichmakes

him better appreciate the sacr ifice that he fe els has be en un

d e rgon e , wi thou t having his own e ars wound e d by it. At

the same tim e he turn e d his back to the wall,which he had

be en facing before,a little turn ed toward s me

,and in a grave

an d magisterial but elevate d voice, said to the companyMadame la Du chesse d e Sain t Simon i s Lady-in -Waitingto the future Duchesse d e Berry. At on ce there arose achorus of approval at the choice, and of praises of the ladychosen 3 an d the king, without speaking further, passed on

to his cabin et at the back.

It may be n oticed here, as in all his other audien cesrecorded by Sain t Simon

,how thoroughly Louis is

master of the situation ; how even this“

talkative an d

impetuous duke is overawed by the maj esty of thespeaker

,and does n ot give the fain test hin t of dissen t

or disapproval ; how few and well chosen the royalG

98 SAIN T S IM ON.

words are,and how

,as they are spoken

,a stilln ess fil ls

the air (“ a s ilen ce in which you might hear an an t

walk,

”says Sain t Simon in an other passage), followed

by the br ouhaha of the courtiers,the hum of mingled

applause an d curiosity. An d it is i mpossible n ot to bestruck by the kinglin ess of Loui s

,so bien royale

,

as Sain te Beuve says,even in his slightest action s ;

the curious thing being,that the very man who person

ally d isliked the king so inten sely,should throughout his

pages bear unwill ing, or perhaps un con sciou s, testimonyto that commanding an d maj estic deportmen t which

,

more than any other of his kingly qualities, gain ed

him the title of Le Grand Monarque.”

100 SAINT S IM ON.

tion and sacred pictures, was more like an oratory thana boudoir

,and Versailles gen erally took a ton e of gravity

an d sobriety that must have con trasted strangely withthe d issipation of former days . Louis himself observedall the fasts an d festivals of the Church, attended Mass,and received the Sacramen t with the ardour of a n ewconvert 3 and the courtiers foll owed his Majesty to chapel,and watched him at his prayers, with the same regularitythat they atten d ed his l evée or his promenad e. Racin ehas surpassed himself

,

”wrote Madame de Sevigne 3 heloves his God as he used to love his mistresses.

As may be supposed, this outward devotion was oftenthe merest preten ce and those who atten ded Mass

'

the

most regularly were in many in stan ces the most dissolutecourtiers . The profession of a hypocrite

,

”wrote

Moliere,had marvellous advan tages 3 and a more de

testable form of hypocrisy cann ot well be con ceivedthan that impersonate d in Tartuffe

,

”or m Onuphr e ,

on e of the characters of La Bruyere. Sain t Simon tell sus story after story to show how false and hollow thefashion able religion was in reality ! the two ! gay oldladies who relieved their con scien ces by making theirservan ts fast ; Orlean s reading a black-covered volumeat Mass

,with an appearan ce of great devotion

,but whi ch

proved to be Rabelais in stead of a breviary ; Madamede Main ten on ’

s bosom frien d,the Prin cess of Harcourt

,

discovered playing cards when she ought to have beenat Vespers 3 Madame d e Ron cy, who commun icated everyweek

,but had the most evil tongue at Court ; M .

d’

O,who had such an air of san ctityand such austerity

of mann ers that on e was tempted to cut his cloak inpieces from behin d (i . a ,

make phylacteries of it). But

DEVOUT LADIES . 101

n on e of his stories is more characteristic of the time thanthe practical j oke played by Brissac upon these zealousfrequen ters of the royal chapel.

Brissac, Captain of the Guard

,was an hon e st fellow

,

who could n ot endure what was false. He had seen withimpatien ce al l the seats in the chapel lin ed with ladies ateven ing se rvice on Thursdays and Sundays during the

win ter,because they knew the king n eve r missed attending

himself 3 but if they kn ew early en ough that the king wasn ot coming, n ot a soul was to be see n there. Ou the preten ce of read ing their breviaries

,they all had little candle

sticks in fron t of them,so as to l e t their faces be seen and

recogn ised .

“On e even ing,when the king was expected to come to

service,and the usual preliminary prayer had been read , and

the Guard s were at their posts , and the ladies all arrangedin their places , Brissac comes in ,

just as the praye r is over,raises his baton

,and give s his orders in a loud voice Gen tle

me n of the Royal Guard,re t ire and withdraw to your quar

ters ; his Maj esty is n ot coming this eve n ing.

“As soon as the Guard s had obeye d,there was whispering

among the ladies in a l ow tone the little candle s were extingu ishe d 3_and off they all wen t exce pt Madame d e Dang eauand a few others, who remain ed . Brissac had placed ottice rs

at some of the doorways lead ing from the chapel, who orderedthe Guards to take up their

posts again ,as soon as the ladie s

we re far en ough off for there to be no doubt of their d eparture .

Presently the king arrived,and

, greatly aston ished at se eing no ladies in the galle rie s

,he inquired how i t happen ed

the re was n o on e there . As the y we re leaving the chapel,Brissac told him what he had d on e

,an d e xpatiate d on the

piety of the ladies of the Court. The k ing laughe d he artilyat the trick

,and so d id al l those with him . T he sto ry

soon g ot about, and all the lad ies would have like d to havestrangle d Brissac.

102 SAIN T S IM ON.

Again,if the following an ecdote is true

,this mock

devotion was often accompan ied by an ign oran ce worthyof the dark ages of Christian ity. Coun t Grammon t wason e of the greatest wits an d huest gen tlemen of his day.

Be ing se riou sly il l at the ag e of e ighty—four, a year be forehis d e ath

,his wife spoke to him of God . T he utte r forge t

fuln e ss in which he had lived all his life threw him into astrange sort of surprise at the myste ri e s revealed to him . At

last,turn ing to he r —‘Bu t n ow

,Cou n tess,’ he aske d , ‘are

you telling me the ve ry truth 2’ Then, he arin g he r read theLord’

s Prayer,

Coun te ss,

said he again to her,

thisprayer is beau tifu lu Who composed it 2’ He had n ot thele ast particle of any relig ion .

The Jesuits, _by all accoun ts

,seem to have been

respon sible for much of this in con sisten cy between profe ssmn an d practice. With them religion took its mostattractive form,

an d coul d be associated with all thatmade life pleasan t— with W i n e and love, with gay dressesand sumptuous living. Falsehood

,murder

,and adul

te ry were n o longer the deadly sin s that had beensupposed 3 pardon could be obtain ed , an d indulgen cesmight be bought, if recourse was had to a Je su it con

fe ssor . With a Jesuit at hand , the most harden edsinn er had n o occasion to despair says SaintSimon

,they deceive him

,from motives of worldly

policy,up to the brink of

’the tomb,an d conduct him

to it in profoun d peace along a path strewn withflowe rs.

Maste rs of the Court, throu gh their position as con i’

e ssor s

to n early al l the kings an d catholic sovereign s ; maste rs ofalmost every state through their in struction of youth

,their

104 SAIN T S IMON.

This frightful plot,”says Sain t Simon , depopulated aquarte r of the kingdom,

ruin ed its commerce, enfe ebled itin every part

,gave it u p for years to the open and avowed

pillage of the sold iery, au thorised torme nts and pun ishme ntsin which many inn ocent person s of both sexe s d ied in realityby thou sands

,ruin ed a host of people

,tore asunder a world

of families,armed re lation s against relation s, to seize the ir

good s and leave them to di e of hung e r , made our man u fac

tures . pass to strang e rs, an d caused the ir commonwe alths toflou rish an d ove rflow at the expe n se of ours.

”1

Rare la Chaise had been the king’s con fessor for morethan thirty years

,and Sain t Simon speaks warml y of his

gen tle and liberal character. All his infiu en ce— so far

as it could be exercised— seems to have been for good.

He befriend ed Fen elon in his ex ile 3 he did his best toshelter the fugitives of Port Royal ; and he scan dalisedhis orthodox friends by keepin g on his table a copyof a

'

Jan se n ist commen tary on the Gospels,explain ing

that he liked good wherever he foun d it. Feeling theinfirmiti e s of age creeping on him (for he was n ow morethan eighty), the old man had several times petition edto be allowed to give‘ up his duties ; but Louis wouldn ot hear of it, an d to the last Pere la Chaise con tinuedto absolve his royal pen iten t

,though his own memory

had failed,an d his mind wandered . Shortly before his

1 T he se barbar itie s do not se em to have offe nd e d the public Opin ionof the d ay , for we find Madame d e Sevign e wr iting in the ple asante stway possible from he r coun try-hou se in Br ittany ! Oh no , we ar e

not so d u ll he r e . Hanging is our amu seme nt ju st now. T he y haveju st take n twe nty or thirty of the se fe llows, an d ar e going to throwthem o ff .

”And ag ain ,

she says he r son -in -law has “ ju st mad e a

fatigu ing j ourne y to pu r su e an d p un ish the se wr e tche d Hugu e nots ,

who came forth from the ir hole s,and van ishe d like ghosts to avoid

exte rmmation .

PERE T ELLIER. 105

death,he asked the king as a special favour to choose

his successor from among the Jesuits,— hin ting that unless he did so

,

“ a dangerous blow might be struck, andit woul d n ot be for the first time.” Louis, says Sain tSimon

,wan ted to live, and therefore took good care

to choose his n ew con fessor from the Order of Jesus .

He selected Pere Tellier— the very opposite in mind,mann er

,and body

,of the good , easy Pere la Chaise

a kin d of arch-Jesuit, regarded with terror even by hisown brethren

,and with something l ike horror by Sain t

Simon,although from the first Tellier mad e him friendly

advan ces,an d

,as we shall se e , asked his advice and

opin ion as to the celebrated Con stitution .

The first time that Pér e Te llier saw the king in his

cabin et after having be e n pre sen te d to him ,there we re on ly

pre sent Eloin (the vale t) and Fage n (the doctor) in a corn er.Fagon ,

be nt double,and le an ing on his staff

,watched the

in terview closely,as well as the countenan ce of this n ew

personage, with his bowings and scrapin gs and his an swers .

T he king asked him if he was a relation of Messi eurs LeTellier (the Chan cellor an d the Bishop) . T he good Fatherbowed himself to the dust. ‘I

,sire

,

’ an swere d he , ‘a relative of Messieurs Le Tell ier I am very far from being that 3I am a poor peasan t from LowerNorman dy

,where my fathe r

was a farmer.’ Fagon ,who had watched him closely

,so as

n ot to lose a word,twiste d himself up , and made an e ffort

to look at Eloin . Sir,

’said he , pointing to the Je su it, what

a cursed scound rel an d shrugging his shoulders, leant againupon his staff.”

Sain t Simon says he was n ot far wr ong ; indeedPere Tellier

,as Sain t Simon describes him

,is almost

the ideal Je su it of fiction . Harsh, exacting, laborious

106 SAINT S IMON.

“With a heart an d brain of iron,an d an e n emy of all

amu semen t and d issipation ;”false and u n scrupulous, with

his real characte r hid un d e r a thou san d folds, and own ing

n o god bu t the inte re sts of the Ord e r. He wouldhave been a terrible fe l low to have m e t in a d ark lane

,with

his cloudy,false, and sin iste r coun te nan ce

,and his eye s

burn ing with an evil rad ian ce,and squinting in both d ir e c

tion s.

To his ascen dan cy over the mind of Louis Sain t Simonattributes the persecution of the Jan se n ists

,whose doc

trin es seem to have been a milder form of Calvin ism .

Jan se n ’

s Augustinus (which con tain ed the famousFive Proposition s”condemn ed by the Pope) insistedmuch on the e fficacy an d n ecessity of divine grace

,

vouchsafed on ly to a few,an d obtain ed on ly by con tinual

prayer. Gen erally speaking,it was a protest an d reaction

again st the in sin cerity of the religion of the day,an d the

dangerous morality of the Jesu its . Jan sen an d his fol

lowers den oun ced,both in precept and in practice

,the

whole of that gorgeous ritual by which the Church of

Rome seeks to make her creed attractive and imposing.

The music an d the in cen se,the pain tings an d the images

,

the embroidery and the vestmen ts,were all proscribed;

When the Jan sen ist worshipped,the service was to be

in the simplest an d severest style 3'

the Gospel was tobe read in the vulgar tongue

,the Psalms were to be

chan ted,an d hymn s might be sung

,but there was to

be n o “ ritual,

n o High Mass,and n o fr e qhe n t celebra

tion of the Sacramen t. It was by prayer,by solitude

,

by fasti ng,by sufferin g

,by humiliation

,by all that

could mortify both soul and body,that nian could alon e

hope to draw n ear his Maker.

SAIN T S IMON.

Sin ce that is so,

’said the king

,

‘there is no harmin

him. Y ou may take him with you .

This scen e (for on e can call it by n o other name) took placein the morn ing , and the Duke of Orleans told it me afterd inner the same day, almost dying with laughter, word forword

,just as I have written it down . After we had both of

u s laughed heartily at it,we admired the profound learn ing

of a d e vout and religious king.

The story wen t the round of the Court, and every on e

laughed at it,—although

,says Sain t Simon

,some of the

more thoughtful courtiers were more in clin ed to weepthan laugh over such ign oran ce

,coupled with such

bigotry,in the person of his Most Christian Majesty.

”Rightly or wrongly

,Port Royal had been always r e

garded as the headquarters of Jan se n ism,and the Je su its

had determin ed on its d estruction . The story of thesesolitary and illustrious sain ts”(to u se Sain t Simon

s

words) —of Arnauld and ' Le Maistre,of Sain t Cyran

and La Mere Angelique, of Pascal and the famousLetters

,

”in which he appealed to the

.

world again stthe dogmatists of his day— oi the clos ing of the mon

aste ry and the dispersion of the recluses,—all this has

been ful ly told in an other volume of this series.

1

Of Port Royal itself, in 1 701,n othing was left but

a ruin ed chapel and graveyard,and a conven t where

twen ty - two aged n un s still lingered on,whom Louis

himself wou ld will ingly have left alon e to die there mpeace. His surgeon ,

Maréchal,had been deeply im

pressed by the patien ce and piety of these holy women,

and his report had strongly influ e n ce d his master. Butthe terrible Pere Tellier had resolved on their d ispe r

1 Pascal, by Prmc1pa1 T u l loch.

PORT ROYAL. 109

sion . Feel ing their case was hopele ss with the Je sui tsagainst them,

the unfortunate nun s appealed to Rome,

but the Pope on ly respon ded by a bull which orderedthat “ this n est of heresy should be uprooted from its

foundation s,

”and the Cardinal de Noaill e s had n o alter

native but to enforce the papal man date.In the autumn of 1709 Port Royal was surroundedby a body of archers under Arg e nson ,

lieuten an t of thepolice ; the nun s were summon ed to the chapter-house ;the royal commission was read to them,

and then theywere hurr ied in to carriages

,an d each of them carried off

to a d ifi e r e nt conven t. The parting scen e between theseaged sisters, many of them sick and infirm —their tears

,

their misery,their agon ising farewells— moved even the

rough archers of the Guard to pity.

But even this dispers ion of the nun s did n ot satisfythe Jesuits . There still remain ed the graveyard then ecropolis of Jan se n ism — where the ashes of three thousand recluses of Port Royal reposed in what might havebeen thought con secrated ground. It was ordered that thebodies should be exhumed

,and the graveyard ploughed

up, and a gang of workmen were sen t down for the purpose. For two mon ths they con tinued their odious task

,

and their horrible profan ity excited the deepest resen tmen t among the relatives and descendan ts of those whosegraves were thus shamefully violated. After the bodieshad been removed

,the plough was passed over the burial

ground,and the church and cloisters were destroyed so

complete ly that not on e ston e was left upon an other.Inn ocen t XII. had died in 1700— “

a great an d holyPope

,

”says Sain t Simon 3 “ a true pastor and common

father of the Church, su ch as on e rarely sees in Sain t

SAINT S IM ON.

Peter’s chair. He was succeeded by Clemen t XL,as

weak as he was amiable, who gave way to the pressurebrought to bear on him by the Je su its . After variousrefusals and d elays

,he at length published the cele

brate d bull Unig en itus , which con demn ed a hun dred and

on e proposition s con tain ed in Pere Qu e sn il’

s commen taryon the Gospels, which, on its first appearan ce

,some

thirty years previously,had been quoted and admired by

orthodox Catholics .

1 The “ Con stitution,

as the bullwas called, was received both at Rome and in Fran cewith indignation an d alarm by all

,

”says Sain t Simon

,

f

cepting those who were en slaved to the Je su itsthat is to say, by hon est people in every class of life.The card inals protested against it ; many of the bishopsrefused to recogn ise it ; the doctors of the Sorbonn eden oun ced its terms 3 and though the Parliamen t ratifi e dit,as being by order of the king,

”i t was with sullen

murmurs of disapproval. Every on e wondered how thePope coul d have been induced to pass such a sweepingsen ten ce of con demn ation on recogni sed authorities

,and

this is the explan ation that Sain t Simon had fromAmelot

,who had been sen t as a special envby to Rome

on this occasion

He told me that the Pope had tak en a liking to him,and

often spoke to him in confid e n ce, groan ing over the straits

in which he found himself,and over his powerlessness to do

as he ple ased . In on e of the se con versation s the Popeopen ed his he art on his re gret at having ever allowed himselfto publish the Cons titution 3”that it was the king’s lettersthat “

had extracted it from him,and those of Pére Tel lier ;

1 Se e p . 104.

1 12 SAIN T S IM ON.

Tellier found means to reward such of his satellites as

had been most active in procuring this condemn ation of

Jan sen ism,and thereby advan cing the greater glory of

God ,”as well as of their Order. A pension was given

to Le roug e ; Rohan an d Polignac each received a richprefermen t

,and Bissy got a cardinal’s hat. It was even

proposed to establish the In quisition in Fran ce 3 and on e

Je suit (Lallemand ) en larged 0 11 its merits to the Marshald

Estrée s . The Marshal,

says Sain t Simon,

“ let himtalk on a little while, and then ,

the fire moun ting to hisface

,he cut him short by telling him that

,if it was n ot

out of respect for the house where they were (the Abbeyof Sain t Germain du Pré), he woul d have thrown him outof the window.

” Fifteen years afterwards,in 1732,

an other Jesu it (P (111 Halde) made a similar proposal toSain t Simon . I took him up,

”he says, in such a

rough fashion,that all his life afterwards he n ever dared

to speak of it again to me .

The Protestan ts d id n ot escape a second persecution,

any more than the Jansen ists . In 171 2 a n ew edictwas passed against them. Those who would not con

form to the Catholic faith were no longer all owed topractise their simple worship in caves and desert placesas heretofore, bu t were pur sued and apprehended by thepolice and sold iers . The me n were sen t to the galleys 3the women were imprison ed ; and their pastors, if theywere foun d officiating , were hung in chain s by the roadside. The tale of their wrongs and sufferings has beenso often an d so pathetically told

,that“ there is n o n eed

for dwelling upon it here. It is the blackest spot in thehistory of the time

,and Saint Simon ’

s indign an t denunciation of the authors and instigators of this barbarous

PERSECUT ION OF THE HUGUENOT S . 13

policy is onl y a fain t echo of the deep and passionateresen tmen t that it roused both in Paris an d the provin ces . On e has on ly to turn to the caricatures and

pasquinades of the day to find abundan t proofs that inthi s respect he has n ot exaggerated the in tensity of

popular feeling. Whether he is right in ascribing thispolicy

,as he does

,to the sin ister influ e n ce of Madame de

Mainten on,is an other question . After all

,he says

,she

was herself the dupe of her own hypocrisy,

”and a

mere puppet in the hands of the Je su its.

She be l ieved herself the prophete ss who should save thepeople of G od from error , from revolt, an d from impiety.

It was in this belief, with which Bissy 1 in spired her, that sheexcited the king to al l the horrors, all the violen ces, al l theacts of tyranny then practised upon men’

s con sciences,upon

their fortun es and their persons , an d which fil l e d the prison sand dungeons . Bissy suggested and obtained all he wished .

The barbarous measures taken with the Huguenots afterthe revocation of the Edict of Nan tes were on a large scalethe model of those n ow taken with all who would n ot agreeto the ‘Con stitution .

’ Hen ce arose the in numerable artifice sused to in timidate and gain over the bishops

,the schools

,

and the lowe r clergy hence came that vast and ce aselessstorm of lettr es ole cache t

,that struggle with the Parliament

,

that total den ial of publ ic and private j ustice,that open

inquisition and persecution even reaching to simple layme n

— a whole people exiled or shut up in prison s 3 and lastly, theinexhaustible d e vils’broth (p ot cmh air ) , to besmear all whomthe Je su its would

,and that countless throng of

person s of e very age and eve ry se x exposed to the sametrials of faith as those endure d by the Christian s und e r theArian empe rors

,an d, above all, und e r Julian the Apostate.”

1 Bissy succe e d e d Bossu e t as Bishop of Me aux .

FoCo_ Xo H

14 SAINT S IM ON.

It is curious, after readin g this tir ade, to find Sain tSimon in an other passage complacen tly saying that hehad always been on good terms with the J esuits

,and

was looked upon by them as a frien d and supporter oftheir in terests . But the fact is

,that he was himself op

pressed and almost te rrifi e d by the ill imitable power ofthe Jesuits in that age 3 and

,so far as it was possible in

him to play the courtier, he certain ly paid court to whathe felt to be the strongest body in the kingdom. Yet

,

while he was osten sibly Pere T e ll ie r’s excellen t friend,

— whil e he even opposed the proposition of his colleagueNoail l e s to expel the Je su its “ bag and baggage fromFran ce— he has n ot scrupled to describe

,in the strongest

language at his command,the deadly tenden cies of their

doctrin es 3 and at on e of his secret in terviews with PereTell ier

,he plain ly den oun ced some o f the clauses of the

bull Unig eni tus as revolution ary, and dangerous to theve ry existen ce of a monarchy.

This short statemen t of mine exasperated the Je su it, b ecause it hit the right n ail on the head

,in spite of all his

cavilling an d equivocation . Al l the time he avoided sayinganything personal ly offe n sive

,but he fumed with rage

,and

in his furiou s passion ,being n o longe r master of him

self,many things escaped him which I fe el sure he would

afterwards have paid very d e arly to have left in sile n ce. He

told me so much of the extremitie s an d the Violen ce thatwould be used to make the Constitution ’ acce pte d— thingsso en ormous

,so atrocious

,so frightful , -an d all with such

furious passion— that I fe ll in to a ve ritable syn cope. I saw

him face to face be twe e n two can d le s,there being only the

breadth of the table betwe e n u s— (I have describe d el sewherehis horrible countenan ce )— and all at on ce

,stupe fie d both

in sight and hearing, I compre hen ded , while he was spe ak

1 16 SAINT S IM ON.

He tells u s frankly that he was himself m’

docte ne'

that he had n either the time nor in clinationto trouble himself about vexed question s of theology 3that he had put himself in the hands of La Trappe

,

his

spiritual adviser 3 an d that La Trappe had warn ed himthat Janse n ism was a deadly heresy

,— that there was

n either charity,n or peace

,nor truth in its ten ets

,an d

that it was dangerous alike to Church and State.But if he was n ot a

'

Jan sen ist,still less was he a

Jesuit or an Ultramon tan e. He was warmly attachedto the ‘

e Gall ican Church, and thought it had d on e goodservice in defending its liberties again st the “

aggre s

sion s and usurpations of the Court of Rome.” He

recogn ised in the Pope the chief of the Chur ch, thesuccessor of sain t Peter, the first bishop, but very farfrom bei ng infallible

,in wha teve r sense on e takes the

words. In fact,his Vi ew of the papal supremacy is

that of a moderate Catholic but n ot of an Ultramontan e ; an d it is clear that anything like bigotry or in tole rance

,especially in the form of persecution

,was abhor

ren t to his whole n atur e.He passed a week or more every Easter at the monas

te ry of La Trappe, on ly a few miles from his own coun tryhouse. The Abbot had been a d istinguished soldier inthe Fronde

,but had retired from the world (it was said

from disappoin ted love), an d had for some thirty yearsled a life of penan ce and seclusion that seemed to havereached the limits of asceticism. Sain t Simon alwaysspeaks of him with the profoundest ven eration ,

an d his

affection was eviden tly return ed . He loved me as afather

,

”he says,

and I loved him as a son .

80 attached was he to the Abbot of La Trappe, and

LA TRAPPE. 17

so anxious to have some memorial of him,that he got

Rigault to pain t his portrait from memory,and the like

n ess was pron oun ced admirable. The fact of the picturehaving been taken at all was to have been kept a profound secret

,but Rigault coul d not resist the temptation

of making mon ey by pain ting copies of it,and Sain t

Simon had to con fess the trick he had played upon hisconfessor. La Trappe was much vexed

,though he for

gave the cul prit. I hate treason,but I love the traitor

,

was his way of condon ing the offen ce. When he d ied,

Sain t Simon ’

s grief was in ten se These Memoir s,

”hesays

,

“ are too profan e to recall anything here of a lifeso sublimely holy

,and of a death so grand and so

precious in the sight of God. All Europe felthi s loss acutely 3 the Church wept for him ; and eventhe world did him justice.”Next to La Trappe

,Sain t Sim on had more sympathy

perhaps with Fén e lon than with any other prelate of theday

,although he has discovered a strain of worldlin ess

in Fen elon ’

s character which his other biographers havepassed over or 1gnor e d . His piety

,he says

,was “

of

that in sin uating kind which is all things to all me n

his ambition had led him “ to kn ock at all doors,

”and

to pass from the Je su its over to the Jan sen ists ; butbeing too subtle (tr op fin ) for the latter, he had haltedhalf-way with the Sulpician s, and made himself a reputation for his pen etrating gen ius and cou rtly mann ers .

Then Bossuet had taken him up 3 Beauvilliers was fascinate d by him ; he was appoin ted tutor to the youngDuke of Burgun dy

,and all wou ld have gon e well with

him at Cour t had he n ot,in an evil hour for himself,

made Madame Guyon ’

s acquain tan ce. Fen elon , whose

1 18 SA INT S IMON.

imagin ation was easily touched,was charmed with this

young prophetess . Their spir ituality amalgamated,

says Sain t Simon . He in troduced her at Versailles and

Madame de Main ten on herself was among the distin

gu ishe d converts attracted by this n ew phase of mysticism. Delightful little d inn er parties took place

,

When the guests in terchanged spir itual confid e n ce s,and

all with a secrecy and mystery that gave add itionalflavou r to this precious mann a.”Madame Guyon evenmade her way into Sain t Cyr , and the young girls there

(as may be supposed) eagerly welcomed anything thatrelieved the mon otony of their lives ; indeed, they seemto have occasionally dreamed dreams and seen ' Visionswhen they ought to have been engaged in their studiesor household work.

Unfortun ately both for Fen elon and Madame Guyon,

Godet,the Bishop of Chartres— a stern divin e

,who had

little sympathy with en thusiasm in any shape dis

covered the dangerous tenden cies of these n ew doctrines 3and Bossuet

,whom he con sul ted

,took the same view.

Madame de Main ten on was startled and indignan t tofind that she had been led to the verge of a precipice

,

and at on ce repud iated her friends . Madame Guyonwas ban ished from Sain t Cyr, and soon afterwards sen tto the Bastil le.Fen elon

,who to the last regarded this en thusiast as

a persecu ted sain t,wished apparen tly to justify both her

an d himself,if it was possible

,and wrote a book on

the history of mysticism,called Maxims of the Sain ts.

This book,accord ing to Sain t Simon

,was quite

te ll igibl e except to the Masters of Israel ; and thosetheologian s who coul d understand it agreed that it was

120 SAINT S IM ON.

in the un changeabl e affection of his pupil [the Duke of~Burgundy], himself a victim of this cabal. Then in thetwinkling of an eye the pupi l becomes the Dauphin ,

an d in

another mome nt, as on e W ill se e , he is raised to a kind of

viceroyalty (avan t-régn e) . What a change of fortun e for aman of Fenelon’

s ambitious character

Sain t Simon dwells at some length,and in more than

on e passage,upon Fen elon ’

s peaceful and laborious lifein his d iocese

,his charity to the poor

,his visits to the

hospitals,hi s gran d hospitality

,hi s kin dn ess to the

clergy,his urban ity and courtly mann ers ; but he hin ts

that,though occupied by his

_pastoral duties, and thoughdelighting in his books and his fiowe rs —the best com

pan ion s of solitude— he still cast a longing eye to Versaill es

,to his youn g Telemachus

,

”and to the little

band of friends,such as Beauvilli ers and Chevr euse

,who

had n ever forgotten him during the twelve years of his

exile. T hey still corresponded with him incessan tly,

and made him the confidan t of their hopes and schemesfor the future. They received his advice as thoughhis words were the oracles of God.

” They n ever ceased,

as they assured him,

“ to talk of him,to regret him

,to

long for his return,to cling closer an d closer to his

memory, as the Jews clung to Je ru sal em of old,and to

sigh and hope always for his coming again , as that unhappy race still waits for and sighs after the MessiaHow sadly their hopes were dissipated by the suddendeath of the young Dauphin will be told in an otherchapter. Fen elon and his pupil on ly lived to meet on ceagain— when the latter was on his way to j oin the armyin Flan ders in 1708, and his route lay through Cambray.

The prin ce thr ew himself upon Féne lon ’

s n eck,and if

FENELON. 121

words were wan ting, says Sain t Simon , the fire from hislooks

,darting in to the eyes of the archbishop

,supplied

all that the king had forbidden him to say, and was an

eloquen ce that carried away the spectators .

”But this

was the last and on ly in terview between Men tor and

Telemachus.

Fen elon survived the Dauphin some four years,

and,even after so many losses and trials

,this pre

late was still a man of hopes .

” Orleans had declaredthat

,if he became Rege n t

,his first step would be to

recall him from ban ishmen t. But it was too lateFen elon ’

s health,n ever strong

,had been broken by

in cessan t labour,by grief

,an d by disappoin tmen t. I n

171 5 he lost his life - long friend,the Duke of Beau

villiers,and this last blow struck him to the heart. A

few mon ths later he was himself carried to his lastresting—place, dying as he had lived

,

“ a model everpresen t that n on e

[

coul d attain to ; in all things a trueprelate 3 in all things also a grand seign eur

,and in all

things still more— the author of Telemachus .

’ Such ishis epitaph

,as Sain t Simon has written it for u s ; or

,as

we might put it now,the Christian bishop, the perfect

gen tleman,and the accomplished scholar. Taking him

all in all, we may search ecclesiastical history far and

wide before we discover his superior, or even his equal.

CHAPT ER IX.

THE SPANISH SUCCESSION.

SAINT SIMON’

S warmest admirers must admit that hisaccoun t of the great war that convulsed Europe in thelast decade of Louis XIV.

’s reign is partial and un satis

factory,and it is fortun ate

,on every ground

,that we

have not to depend upon his history of the campaignsthat followed the accession of Philip V. to the thron eof Spain . As it happen s

,this period is singularly rich

in con temporary memoirs . We have the despatches of

Marlborough on on e side,and of Ve n déme and Vill ars

on the other ; we have the letters of such masters of thear t of war as Berwick and Prin ce Eugen e 3 and we havethe independen t opin ion of diplomatists like Torcy and

De Noaill e s . When collated with such eviden ce, Sain tSimon is foun d to be as often wrong as right. His prejudices and person al dislikes are shown in his accoun tof almost every battle 3 and while he does full justice tothe talen ts of Marlborough

,and even pays his tribute to

William III. ,the sworn en emy of his coun try, he cann ot

find a good word to say for the gallan t Fren ch sold ierswho were fighting again st long odds, dying of hun ger intheir camps

,and perishing by thousands on the fie lds of

Blenheim and Malplaquet.

24 SAINT S IM ON.

the parties chiefly in terested in Charles’

s death,which

divided the Span ish possession s between Fran ce a nd

A11stria,— Louis

,of course

,getting the lion ’

s share inthe division . Unfortun ately, Charles heard of thelast treaty con cluded at the Hague between Louis and

William III.,and

,exasperated at the thought of his

kingdom being thus d ismembered in his own lifetime,

he drew up a fresh will,by which he left the Whole of

his vast possession s to the Duke of Anjou, the grandsonof Louis XIV.

The excitemen t in Madrid was in ten se when,shortly

afterwards, Charles died, an d it was kn own that he had

made a n ew will,— for public opin ion in Madrid was

d ivided between the-

Bourbon s and the house of Hapsbur g. The Coun cil of State assembled at the palace, andthe an techambers were thronged by n obles

,Span ish

dign itaries,and by foreign ambassadors, each eager to

hear the terms of the will, an d to in form their Court.Among the rest stood Blecour t the Fren ch ambassador

,

and Harrach the Austrian envoy, the latter being postedclose to the door, with an eager and triumphan t air.

“At length the d oor opened and closed again . The Ducd

Abran te s, who was a man with plenty of wit and a dangerons kind of humour, wished to have the pleasure of

announ cing the successor to the thron e, as soon as he hadseenthe coun cil agreed . He found himself surrounded themomen t he showed himself outside. He cast his eye roundhim on all sides, still gravely keeping silen ce. Blécou rt

advan ced . D’Abran te s looked at him very intently

, and

then turn ing his head the other way , seemed as though hewere seekin g for what he had almost in fron t of him

,-an

‘action which surprise d Blécou rt, and made him interpret itas of evil augury fo r Fran ce. Then suddenly making as

THE SPANISH SUCCESSION. 1 25

though he had on ly just perceived the Count d’Harrach for

the first time, D’

Abran te s put on an air of joy, threw himself on his n eck , and said to him in Span ish in a loud ton eSir , it i s with the

'

gr e ate st pleasure and making a pausein order to embrace him better, he we n t ou Y e s

,sir , it is

with extreme joy that for the whole of my l ife’— and then

redoubling his embrace, to give himself an excuse for stopping on ce more, he fin ishe d with and with the gre atestsatisfaction ,

that I separate myself from you , and take myle ave of the most august house of Austria.’ And then hemade hisfiway through the crowd , every on e runn ing afterhim to know the n ame of the real heir. The aston ishmen tand ind ignation of D

l-Iarrach closed his mouth altogether,but showe d themselves through his face .

It was n ot lik ely that Philip V.

’s accession would be

tamely acquiesced in by the members of the Grand All ian ce

,and the emperor declared war at on ce again st

Fran ce 3 but public opin ion was div ided in England, andfor the presen t that coun try made n o sign . But

,in 1701 ,

James II. died at St Germains, and,whether out of

gen erosity or bravado, or to gratify his hatred again stWill iam III.

,Louis publicly recogn ised the heir of the

Stuarts as the King of England. It was a stupidity,

says Sain t Simon ,

“of which a child would not have

been guilty. By this folly he turn ed the English n a

tion in to a person al en emy,and England threw herself

heart and soul in to the war which followed,supplying

,

in proportion to her size,more me n and mon ey than any

other of the allied powers .

Soon after this, Will iam,who had been long in

declin ing health,me t with the acciden t which gave

'

the

last blow to his shattered con stitution . He died bu t

his spirit still con tinued to an imate the Grand Allian ce,

126 SAIN T S IM ON.

and his bosom friend He insius perpetuated it,and in

spired with it all the chiefs of the Republic,their allies

an d gen erals, in such a fashion,that it was scarcely

apparen t that Will iam was n o more.” Fran ce hadagainst her the two greatest gen erals of the ageEugen e of Savoy

,and Marlborough himself

,who

,says

Voltaire,was more of a king than W illiam

,as great a

statesman , and a far greater gen eral.”

Meanwhile,calamities seemed to thicken around

Fran ce. The campaign s that followed 1 702 were asuccession of blunders and disasters

,culmi nating in

the crushing defeat at Blenheim,or Hochstedt

,as the

Fren ch prefer to call it, where Tall ard all owed hisarmy to be cu t in half

,and where me n

,who

had been cooped up within the wall s of the vill age,

laid down their arms without striking a blow. Outof the army of men that had paraded on themorn ing of Blenheim

,scarcely 5000 an swered the

i

muster—roll when Marsm j oin ed Vill eroy a few days afterthe battle.The n ews reached Versailles when it was ablaze withill umin ations in hon our of the birth bf a young prin ce 3but the details on ly tran spired by degrees. That therehad been a great defeat was well kn own ,

but the exten tof the calamity could n ot even be guessed at. Neitherdespatches n or private letters threw any light on then ation al d isaster, for the simple reason that no on e daredto tell the truth. At last

,an office r who had been

taken prison er was dismissed on parole by Marlboroughto bring the n ews to Marly

,

“and

,

”says Sain t Simon ,

on e can imagin e what was the gen eral con stern ation ,when each n oble family (without speaking of others)

128 SAINT S IM ON.

an even more disastrous retreat. Sain t Hilaire waspresen t at the battle, and tells u s how stubbornly theFrench“ Guardsmen held their ground—h ow Ve ndéme

himself seized a pike and charged at the head of his

grenadiers— and how the household brigade fought likelion s to retrieve the day— while fifty battalion s underthe Duke of Burgundy were watching the battle at apruden t distan ce. Sain t Simon tells u s n othing of all

this,but says, that when a retreat was proposed at the

coun cil of war held after the battle,Vendome

,pushed

as he was to extremities, with rage on his face, and furyin his heart,

”taunted the young prin ce with his cowardice,

an en ormous in sult,says Sain t Simon ; but it must

be con fessed that our sympathies are rather with thesoldier who fought than with the pious and pedanticDuke of Burgundy

,who looked on 3 an d Ve ndfime might

have pleaded in excuse of his rough speech,like Hot

spur,that it angered him

To be so pestered with a popinjay.

It is clear that the feeling at Court ran strongly inVe ndfime

s favour, for Sain t Simon complain s that on

his return he was almost worshipped as the hero andtutelary gen ius of Fran ce

,while for Burgundy there was

n othing but cold looks and a disdainful silen ce,even

from his own family. However,if we may trust our

chron icler,Vendéme lost favour as rapidly as he gain ed

it,and

,thanks to the persevering hostility of the young

Duchess of Burgundy, was ban ished from Versailles an dMarly

,and at last from Meu

'don

,

“ a triumph equallygreat in the sight of gods and me n .

Not long afterwards, Lille— the strongest fortress in

THE FALL OF LILLE . 129

Fran ce— succumbed to “Eugen e after a heroic resistan ce,

in whi ch we are told the garrison had been reduced toeat eight hun dred horses,

”and had repell ed assaul t after

assault.

The agitation at Court was extreme, even to indecen cy.

The expectation of a decisive battl e'

e ngrosse d u s all. Thehappy jun ction of the two armies [under Ve ndémc and

Berwick] was regarded as a certain presage of success .

Each delay in crease d our impatien ce ; eve ry on e was re stless and uneasy ; the king e ven demanded n ews from thecourtie rs, and could n ot imagin e what kept the couriersback. The prin ces and the suite of al l the n oblemen and

people of the Court were with the army. Eve ry on e atVe rsailles felt the dange r of their friends an d kin smen ;and the oldest established fami lies saw the ir fortun es in su s

pense. For forty hours prayers were offered eve rywhere 3 theDuchess of Burgundy passe d the n ight in the chapel, whilepeople bel ieve d her in be d , and d istracted he r lad ies by he rvigil s ; an d , fol lowing her example, al l the wives who hadhusbands in the army n ever stirred from the churches.

Games, and even conversation , had ceased . Fear was painte d on every countenan ce and in every speech in a shamefu lmann er. If a horse passed by a little quickly

,every on e

rushed to the windows wi thout kn owing why . Chamil lart’s

rooms were crowded with lackeys,even to the street door

,

for every on e wished to be informed the moment a courierarrived ; and this agon ising suspen se lasted a mon th, unti la battle put an e nd to our un certainty. Paris

,be ing furthe r

from the source of n ews , was still more troubled,an d the

provinces to an even greater exten t. The king had writte n to the bishops to offer up public prayers in terms proportion e d to the danger.”

It would perhaps be going too far to say that Sain tSimon rejo iced in the misfortun es of Fran ce ; but it is certain that he passes very slightly over the Fren ch victories

,

F.C.— X. 1

130 SAINT S IM ON

su ch as Den ain ,Alman za, and Vill a Viciosa

,while he

devotes chapter after chapter to the long story of Fren chdefeats an d disasters . An office r who resignshis com

mission at the beginn ing of a war,as in his case

,is

scarcely in a position to malign and disparage theefforts of me n who are giving their life-blood for theircoun try 3 and it is impossible n ot to feel something likecon tempt

,when we find Sain t Simon dangling about the

ante-rooms at Versaill es, and fu lfill ing his self—imposedmission of spy and reporter

,while battles were bein g

daily lost and won,and while every prin ce and n oble

of military age were taking their share of active serviceon the fron tiers. As he tells u s himself

,there was

scarcely a family about the Court that had not its taleof dead and wounded ; yet their in ten se anxiety forn ews from the seat of war seems to him indecen t 3

he can on ly show his patrioti c in terest in the campaign sby betting on the capture of the most importan t Fren chfortress 3 an d, sitting at home at his ease, he can find no

word of gen erous sympathy for the poor,half-starved

,

half-clothed soldiers,dragged from their homes

,

“ todie like hies

,

”as Louvill e said

,by famin e and sick

n ess,as well as by the sword.

The con tinued disasters in the war,added to the ter

r ibly severe win ter of 1709,induced Louis to make over

tures of peace,and Torcy was sen t on a secret mission to

the Hague. The Fren ch king on ly stipul ated that Philipshould be allowed to keep Naples an d Sicily

,otherwise

he d eclared himself ready to surrender anything and

everything.

“ But,

says St Simon ,

“ his en emies derid e d his misery

,and n egotiated on ly to mock him.

He in sius the Dutch banker in spir ed the allied

1 32‘

SAIN T S IM ON.

the most obstin ate and most murderous battle foughtduring the war. The victors lost more me n than thevanquished , and bivouacked on the held amongdead . The Court had grown soaccustomed to defeats

,

says Sain t Simon , that a battle lost, as Malplaquet was,seemed half a Victory.

” Yet he will all ow Villars n o

credit for his own heroic conduct, or for the good orderof the retreat. We hear little of the terrible privation sendured by the survivors of Malplaquet. “ There wasn o meat or bread 3 the sold iers ate roots and herbs”

is all that Sain t Simon says of the famin e that wasdesolating the camp . Bouffle rs

,we are told

,deserved

half the glory of the campaign,such as it was ; but

Bou ffle rs was n eglected an d d isgraced, and died of « abroken heart

,while Villars received hon ours and rewards

for Victories which had been won by his lieuten an ts .

The n ame which his in vin cible good—luck has acquiredfor him for all futur e time has often d isgu ste d me withhistory

,says Sain t Simon . He was all “fanfar onnad e ,

w ith the magn ificence of a Gascon,and the greedin ess

of a harpy.

But if Sain t Simon is unjust to Vill ars,he is still

more unjust to Ven déme,again st whom his hatred breaks

out when ever he men tion s his n ame. He ascribes halfthe misfortun es in the war to his in dolen ce and in capacity

,and hin ts that even his Victories were won by his

troops,almost in spite of himself. But then Ve ndéme

crossed the arms of Fran ce with the bar—sin ister 3 he wasclosely allied to Mon seigneur’s faction ; he was himselfgiven to win e an d riotous living 3 his home at An et wasMe udon on a grosser scale

,or rather an Abbey of Thele

ma,where all licen ce was permitted ;

“ his Bohemian s,

VENDOME . 133

as Sain t Simon calls his friends, did n othing but dr inkand gamble, and rivalled their patron in ribaldry and

profan ity 3 and as for his brother, the Gran d Prior, weare told that he was a coward

,a liar

,a sharper

,a

scoundr el,an d a robber 3 that he reveren ced n othing

on earth except the “divin e bottle,”an d had been carried

to bed drunk every -n ight for forty years .

Ve n déme’

s life, n o doubt, was scan dalous en ough, andhe had a cyn ical disdain for the proprieties, and even forthe decen cies, of society 3 but of his military talen ts therecan be n o question . Even Eugen e ackn owledged him as

a worthy an tagon ist. He had repaired many of the d isasters both i n Flanders and Italy 3 he would have savedboth Lill e and Turin , had he n ot been hampered by adivided command

,as well as by impracticable orders

from the Court 3 and when,in 1 71 1 , he was summon ed

to take the command in Spain,his name acted like a

charm— Span ish en thusiasm revived,sold iers flocke d to

his standard,an d in a few mon ths he recovered most of

the lost ground in the Pen in sula. It may be added tothis that he was idolised by his own troops

,and that his

white plume was to be seen,like that of his grandfather

,

Henry of Navarr e,in the thickest of the fighting .

Sain t Simon tells u s,with an il l-con cealed air of tri

umph,how miserably Ve n dfime died

,soon after his su c

cesses in Spain . Al ways a great epicure,he had retired

,

with a few atten dan ts,to a l ittle hamlet on the Span ish

coast,and there he gorged himself with fish to such an ex

ten t that he actually died,like on e of our English kings

,

from a surfeit of lampreys .

”Every on e abandon edhim in hi s last momen ts

,and his valets plund ered him

and decamped,takin g with them even the mattress and

1 34 SAINT S IMON.

be d—clothes,and leaving their unfortunate master

,in spite

of his piteous en treaties, to d ie alon e on the bare boards.

As he had deserved so well of Spai n,Phil ip ordered

his body to be taken to the Escurial— the palace and

mausoleum of the Span ish kings— where it was walledup in on e of the outer rooms . When Sain t Simon visitedthe spot some years afterwards, he saw the last restingplace of his old en emy . I gen tly asked the monk incharge

,he says

,when the body was to be carried in to

the inn er room 3 but they avoided satisfying my curiosityindeed they showed some irritation

,an d did not scruple

to let me understand that they did n ot think of movingit at all

,and that

,sin ce they had don e so much for him

as to wall him up there,he might stay there altogether.”

Louis had again made overtures of peace in 1 710,and

sen t two ambassadors to a conferen ce at G e rtruyd e nburg—on e of them being Polign ac

,the most skilful d iplo

matist of the day . As before,the Fren ch king was ready

to make all reasonable con cession s,but the ‘Dutch de

mands were even more in solen t than in the previous year.Louis must dethron e his gran dson

,they in sisted

,by force

of arms,if persuasion failed. But this humiliation was

more than Louis could brook . Sin ce on e must makewar

,

”he said,it shall be against my en emies, not

again st my chil dren 3”and his ambassadors left Holland

,

appealing to God and to Europe again st the sufferingsand bloodshed that must follow from the obstin acy of

He insius an d the ambition of Marlborough.

Sain t Simon moralises,after his own fashion ,

over theign ominy of these abortive n egotiation s

,and on the de

plorabl e calamities of the war that was desolatin g hiscoun try

C H A P T E R X.

THE PROVINCES.

FOR the grands seigneurs, as we have seen,l ife in

these days flowe d on pleasan tly and gracefully en ough 3but there is an other side to this brill ian t picture thereverse of the medal

,

”as Sain t Simon puts it. At the

Court all was luxury and extravagan ce, and this whilefive armies were often in the held at on ce

,an d while

Louis was squandering mill ion s on his p alace and féte s.

It cannot but be asked how this en ormous drain on

the wealth of the coun try was sustain ed,and how was

the exchequer able to support the burden of war and

peace ! It was this question that had battl ed everyMinister of Finan ce sin ce the time of Colbert, —for healon e seems to have realised the simplest axiom of

political econ omy,ign ored by those who succeeded him

in office,that the on ly way of enriching the exchequer

was by developing to their utmost the productive r e

sources of the coun try. It was with this View thatColbert had en couraged manu factures, stimulated com

merce,and d on e his utmost to give confid e n ce to Fren ch

merchan ts,and stability to the public credit of Fren ch

bankers. And in this way he had solved the great

DISTRESS IN THE PROVINCES. 137

problem of fin ance , —he had in creased the revenue without in creasing taxation .

But his successors had n either his gen ius nor his

courage. They wen t back to all the pern icious e xpe

d ien ts of Mazarin to raise mon ey for the war. Everyotii ce and d ign ity in the state

,from a marquisate to a

captain cy,had its price, an d was sold to the highest

bidder.‘

And when these were exhausted, n ew office s

and n ew dign ities were created and put up for au ction .

Sir e,

”said the Min ister of the day to Loui s, when

your Majesty creates a n ew office,God always creates

a fool to buy it.”Then they issued a large amoun tof paper mon ey, and in con sequen ce the cur ren cy wasdepreciated an d prices were enhan ced. Then they taxedevery possible commodity— corn ,

and lin en,and hemp

,

an d si1k 3 they placed custom houses at every crossroad

,an d employed fifty thousand men in cessan tly in

collecting these taxes from the wr etched peasan ts . So

heavy,indeed

,were the taxes upon flu id s of all kinds

(aid es), that while curiosities coul d be brought acrossthe seas from Japan

,and sold for on ly four times their

value in Paris,a bottle of win e from the Fren ch pro

vin ces cost twen ty times its value when it reached theHalles . It took three mon ths and a half for the un

fortunate win e seller to pass his casks through thecoun tless custom-houses that lin ed the highr oads betweenParis and Marseilles . In fact

,both farmers an d v in e

growers found that it n o longer repaid them to cultivatethe soil . An d thus the corn -helds of Languedoc

,the

vin eyards of Anj ou,the orchards of Norman dy

,were

left un till ed 3 and the figs and olives in Proven ce hungrotting on the trees. Fran ce

,from on e e nd to the other

,

138 SAINT S IMON.

looked like a coun try that had been wasted by wa r

'

and

pestil en ce. The peasan ts were s een shivering in ragsand stripped of all that they possessed

,huddled together

upon straw or roaming thr ough the helds,an d flying

from the presen ce of the taX-gatherer. After read ingthe terrible chapters in which Sain t Simon has describedtheir misery

,it is easy to appreciate the 1rony of La

Bruyere’s picture of the same period .

On e sees certain savage an imals,male and female

,

scattered over the country,of a livid hu e

,scorched and

blackened by the sun,bound down to the soil which they

con stantly ran sack and turn over with invin cible obstinacy.

These creatur e s have a sort of articulate voice,and when

they raise themse lves on the ir fe e t,they show a human face,

and,in fact

,they are—me n . At n ight they hide themselves

in their huts,where they live on black bread

,water

,and

roots. They spare other me n the trouble of sowing,and

toiling,and re apin g for a livelihood , and i t is on ly re ason

able that they should n ot wan t the bread which they havesown .

But these poor creatures could n ot even get thisbread. Wheat was heavily taxed , an d was n ot evenallowed to pass from on e provin ce to another 3 the systemof mon opolies”still further raised the price of corn ,

and while the bakers an d Governm en t agen ts were mak

ing fortun es, hun dreds of the wretched peasan ts in theprovin ces were dying of hunger. This distress culmin ~

ated in the win ter of 1709, which was ushered in by afrost of such un usual severity that Sain t Simon tell s u sn ot onl y did the Sein e become a block of solid ice, buteven the se a was frozen on the coasts

,an d carried loaded

waggon s on its surface. Half the olive-trees and vin esin Fran ce were killed by the inten se frost 3 the cattle

140 SAINT S IM ON.

in ten sifie d through thr ee successive reign s,produ ced at

last the Revolution of 1 789 3 and the on ly wonder isthat the people shoul d have suffered so patien tly and

endured so long. But, even in Sain t Simon’s time

, we

have warn ings of the coming storm 3 we are told of ris

ings among the peasan try which had to be suppressed bystrong bodies of troops 3 of serious bread riots in Paris 3of murmurs and execration s heard even un der the windows of Versaill es ; of in sulting placards affix e d to thestatues of the king 3 and of treasonable letters

,some of

which foun d their way to Louis himself,hin ting that

there were still Ravail lacs left in the world,and that

a Brutus might yet be foun d to avenge the wrongs of along—suffering coun try.

Some years before this,

-Vauban,perhaps the pur est

patriot as well as the most skilful engineer in Fran ce,had been profoundly touched by what he had seen ofthe state of the provin ces as he wen t on official j ourn eysfrom on e fortress to an other. The last twen ty years ofhis life had been devoted to a person al inquiry in to thetrade

,production s

,and revenues of the coun try

,and he

had summed up his information in a volume whichreviewed the existing system of taxation

,exposed its

abuses and en ormities, and proposed to abolish themul tifarious customs an d duties

,as well as the host

of offi cials employed in collecting them. In their placeVauban would have had on e grand tax the RoyalTithe —to be levied partly upon land and partly upontrade ; and thus some relief, he thought, woul d be givento the hard-working tillers of the soil

,— a class so de

spised , an d yet so u seful,which has suffered so deeply

,

and is suffering stil l.”

VAUBAN’

S SCHEME. 1

But Vauban’

s scheme,lik e other sweeping measures

of reform,clashed with the “ vested in terests”of the

day. The whole army of collectors— from the con trollergen eral down to the humblest clerk— saw at on ce thatif it were carried in to effect, the hope of their gain swas gon e, and they on e and all Join ed in a strenuousopposition .

This book,”says Saint Simon,

had on e great fau lt.Though it would

,as a matter of fact

,have given to the king

more than he got by the mod e s of taxation in u se up to thattime 3 though it would have saved the pe ople from ruin and

d istress, an d would have enriche d them by allowing them toenjoy, with a very slight exception ,

all that did n ot actuallyen ter the king’s treasury 3— it would have ruined a host ofcapitalists

,of agen ts, and emp loyee of every sort ; it would

have force d them to seek a l ive lihood at their own expe n se,

and n o longer at that of the publ ic, and would have sappedthe foun dation s of those immense fortunes which we haveseen spring up in so short a time. This was what che ckedthe scheme ofVauban .

Chamill art, then Min ister of Fin an ce, gave way to thepressur e put upon him by the privileged classes, and Louishimself was led to believe that Vauban

s scheme was thatof a meddlesome / republican , whose Views were at on cemischievous and treason able . Indeed

,on e sen ten ce in the

book was poin ted out to him as in ten ded to strike at thefirst prin ciples of absolute mon archy. It was unjust

,

Vauban had written , “ that all the body should sufferto put on e of its members at ease.”Accordingly

,when

the Marshal presen ted his work to the king,he was

received ungraciously,an d was told in plain language

that his Views were dangerous and r evolutionary 3 whilethe copies of his book were at on ce impounded by the

142 SAIN T S IM ON.

police. This ingratitude from a monarch whom he hadserved on ly too Well was a deathblow to the old man

,

then in his seven ty fourth year. He withdrew fromCour t in cruel disappointmen t, and a few weeks afterwards died at his coun try-house of a broken heart.In on e sen se Vauban ’

s scheme died with him 3 but itd ied on ly to be revived in a n ew form n ot many yearsafterwards . Desmarets had succeeded Chamillart as

Min ister of Finan ce,an d had exhausted every apparen t

means of raising mon ey, doubling and trebling thecapitation tax

,and in cre asing the taxes on all commod i

ties till they amoun ted to four times their value. At

last,driven to his wits’ end an d

1

(as Sain t Simon putsit) n ot kn owing of what wood to make a crutch to leanupon

,

”Desmarets proposed that the “Royal Tithe”should be levied upon all classes in add ition to theirother burdens

,although when Vauban had proposed it

by way of superseding every other taX,it had been

rej ected as something too mon strous to be put in force.A Commission was appoin ted to se e if it was practicable

,

and they reported in favour of levying it. But,even

then,Louis shrank back with something like horror

from the idea of impos ing this last burden on his sub

je cts. However, to relieve his con scien ce he con sultedPere Tellier, an d that Jesuit, with the easy logic of hisOrder

,assured him that the most learn ed doctors of the

Sorbonn e had un an imously agreed that the property of

the people was really the property of the king,an d that

,

if he confiscate d it, he was, after all, on ly taking backwhat was properly his own .

Accordingly,this tax, “ design ed

,says Sain t Simon

,

by a bureau of cann ibals,was sign ed

,sealed

,and regis

CHAPT ER XI.

M E UD ON AN D M ON S E IG NE UR.

IT is scarcely possible to follow Saint Simon ’s Memoirs

by summers and win ters in the way Thucydides wrotehis history

,for the simple reason that our writer

n ever! troubled himself

“ about chron ological sequ en ce,

but tells his story as the fan cy leads him,without any

regard to method or arrangemen t— perhaps even thinkingthat such mechan ical d etails belonged rather to

1

“ theme n of the quill

,

”whom he hold s in such profound contempt

,than to a g rand se ignenr like himself. It would

be an end less task to keep step with him along his owntrack

,as he wanders , from subj ect to subje ct,

an d fromon e digression to an other

,breaking off from the stirring

in ciden ts of the war to describe some scandal at theCourt, or to give the pedigree of some gen tleman—inwaiting. Al l that can be don e

,if we attempt

'

to followhim at all, is to select the more striking episodes an dcharacters

,an d to disen tangle the scattered threads of

in d ividual histories.

Leaving,therefore

,for a while

,the war an d the pro

vin ces,an d going back to Sain t Simon ’

s person al life atCourt, it may be remembered that he often speaks with

MONSEIGNEUR. 145

mingled fear and aversion of the Meudon cabal.Meudon was Mon seign eur’s coun try-house, and Mon

seign eur”was the n ame by which the Dauphin was

always kn own . He resembled his father,says a wr iter

,

as Vitellius might have resembled Ju l ius Caesar.”He

had the fin e featur es of the Bourbon s,but they were

without expression and bloated by excess ; he had thegran d d eportmen t

,but it was d isfigur e d by his corpu

len ce ; he had the maj estic carriage, but halted in his

walk. Al l the grand social qualities of Louis were vul

garise d in his son . The king woul d play for large sumswith a magn ificen t indifferen ce as to whether he won orlost

,and often paid the gambling debts of his cour tiers .

Mon seign eur also played for high stakes, but alwayswith a greedy anxiety to win what he coul d. The kinghad thrown a halo of roman ce over his amour s

,but

Mon seign eur’s mistress was on e Gboin a great,fat

,

flat-n osed brun ette — who came by the back-stairs,and

had the air'

and appearan ce of a servan t-maid. As tocharacter

,

”says Sain t Simon

,Mon seign eur had n on e.

He was without vice or virtue,without talent or any sort

of knowledge, an d rad ically incapable of acquiring any.

Extreme ly lazy,without imag ination or origin ality, without

r e fin eme nt,without taste

,without d iscernmen t 3 born to be

the prey of a wearin ess which he imparted to others, and tobe a ston e se t rolling haphazard by another’s impulsion ;obstinate an d excessively mean in everything ; e asily pr ejudice d beyond all con ception , and ready to believe everything he saw ; g iven over to the most mischievous hand s,and in capable of e ither e xtricating himse lf or perce iving his

position ; drown ed in his fat and his men tal blindness(ten ebr es) ; so that, without wishing to do wrong, he wouldhave made a pern icious king.

F0 0 0—X0

1 46 SAINT S IMON.

His ign oran ce,even for a Bourbon

,was somethin g

surpr i smg . He kn ew n othin g whatever of any subj ectexcept cookery

,could talk of n othing except his last

boar -hun t,and read n othing except the list of bir ths

and deaths in the Gazette. He n ever took the slightestin terest in politics or affairs of the day. Even whenLill e was besieged

,and

,as we have seen

,the Court was

in a fever of anxiety for n ews from the seat of war,

Mon seign eur wen t out hun ting as usual 3 and on comingback on e aftern oon

,he recited a long list of strange

n ames of places he had passed in the forest to the Prin cessde Con ti. “Dear me ! Mon seign eur

,

”said the lady

,out

of patien ce,what a won derful memory you have ! It

is a thousan d pities you should load it with such trifle s .

He seems to have been in capable of d eep feeling of any

kind,and his heartlessn ess extended even to his own

family. When the Court was plunged in to con stern ation by the sudden d eath of Mon sieur

,

”the king’sbrother

,Mon seign eur d id n ot show the slightest emo!

tion,but rode off to a wild-boar hun t ; an d even when

his old friend an d compan ion,the Prin ce de Con ti

,was

on his deathbed,Mon seign eur drove past his house

,

along on e side of the Quai de Louvre,to the opera

,

while the priests were carrying the Sacramen t to thedying man along the other side

,without even stopping

his carriage.Except on State occasion s

,he rarely wen t to Ver

saill es,if he could help it

,for he was oppressed by the

formality and d ecorum of the Court, and felt the piety ofhis son

,the Duke of Burgun dy

,to be a kin d of r efle ction

on his own life 3 while, like the rest of the royal famil y,he n ever ven tured to open his mouth in the king’s pres

SAIN T S IM ON.

might be found a bril lian t and in congruous n ew societylibertin s

,

”as Louis disdainfully called them

sceptics and freethinkers, wits like La Fare and BussyRabutin

,beauties like Madame de Soubise and the two

Lisl ebonn e s,

soldiers like Ve n dfime an d Luxemburg,

poets and abbés,statesmen and philosophers

,all taking

their part in the famous parvu lo s ,

”of Meudon .

The queen of this society was Madame la Duchesse,

to whose fascination s Sain t Simon is obliged to do un

wil ling justice,much as he both feared an d hated her 3

an d associated with her was a n ame that carried withit a roman tic i n terest

,the Prin ce de Con ti, a n ephew of

the great Condé.

He was the con stan t delight of the world , of the Court,and of the army ; the d ivin ity of the people, the idol of thesold iers

,the hero of the office r s

,the hope of all that was

most d istingu ished in the army,the delight of the Parlia

men t,the d iscriminating frie n d of the savan ts

,and often the

admiration of the Sorbonn e, of lawyers, of astron omers, and

of the profounde st mathematicians . He had talen ts of thefin e st kind—lumin ous

,ju st

,exact

,vast

,exten sive—with an

in fin ite knowle dge of books,—on e who forgo t n othing and

knew by heart all public and private histories and gen ealog ies, their chimeras and their realities.

When he talked,we are told that young and old alike

hung upon his words,that me n forgot th e dinn er-hour

,

an d left the royal circle in the drawing—room at Marly intheir eagern ess to listen . In his younger days Con ti hadburn ed to distinguish himself as a soldier

,an d had shown

that he inherited something of Condé’s spirit,when he

charged at the head of the household troops an d savedthe day at Ne e rwind en . But Louis, according to Sain t

C ONT I. 49

Simon , was jealous of his brillian t talen ts,1 and Con tifound himself at the age of thirty the onl y prin ce of

the blood - royal left without even the command of aregimen t. This n eglect preyed upon his mind, an d , todrown his grief and d isappoin tmen t

,he plunged in to the

wildest dissipation,an d when the coveted opportun ity

of distin ction came at last,it was too late. His health

had been undermined by his ex cesses,and he sank in to

a rapid declin e. The crowds who fill e d the churchesn ight and day offering prayers for his recovery

,an d the

in cessan t stream of Visitors that fil l e d the an te-rooms of

his house in Paris,showed how strong a hold his char

acter had taken on public feeling. There must havebeen something singularly fascmating about this prin ce,when

,in spite of his n otorious profligacy, we find him

spoken of with warm affection by such men as Fen elonand Bossuet

, Chevreuse and Beauvill iers.

Sain t Simon says of Con ti This man,so charming

,

so amiable,so delightful

,loved n otl 1ing 3 he had and

desired friends as on e has an d desires furn iture 3 e vi

d e n tly forgettin g that in an other passage he has spokenof his strong affection for his sister-in -law

,Madame la

Duchesse,— an affection that was almost roman tic in

its con stan cy an d hopelessn ess,and that ceased on ly

with his death. Even when elected King of Poland,he was n ot sorry to give up the barren hon our to theElector of Saxony

,and return to the charmed cir cle

1 W e give Conti’s s tory as Saint Simon has give n it, bu t he doe snot eve n allud e to the scandal of 1686 (mention e d by both Madame

d e Main te non and Madame d e Sevign e), an d which was probably there ason why the king always re gard e d this br illiant pr ince with su ch

spe cial d isfavour . Conti was, if anything, a worse characte r than

Ve ndéme .

150 SAINT S IMON.

at Meudon . It was too much to expect, says Sain tSimon

,that the brill ian cy of a crown shoul d prevail

over the horrors of perpetual ban ishmen t.”

Everything that was evil in Sain t Simon ’

s eye camefrom Meudon . The place was beset with dangers an dpitfalls”and “ infested by d emon s” The brill ian tsociety coll ected there were all so many person al en emiesben t on his destruction . Madame la Duchesse regardedhim with special an imosity. He was at daggers-drawnboth with An tin an d Ve ndéme

,two of the leading

spir i ts in the cabal 3 and some busybody had told Mon

seign eur that Sain t Simon had called him “ a greatimbecile , whom any on e coul d lead by the n ose, and

,so

far as Mon seign eur’s sluggish n ature was capable of strongfeeling

,he showed strong and not un natural in d ignation

on the subject. As the king was n ow seven ty-three,

there seemed every probability that Mon seign eur wouldsucceed him before long 3 an d to Sain t Simon , who kn ewhow completely the Dauphin was in the hands of theclique that made Meudon their headquarters, his prospee ts in the n ext reign were of the gloomiest description .

But an un expected d eliveran ce appeared. Sain t Simonhad gon e down to keep Easter

,as usual

,at his coun try

house,when he heard that Mon seign eur had been sud

d en ly seized with the small-pox,an d was lyin g be tween

life an d death at Meudon . Sain t Simon tell s u s withwhat an ebb an d flow of emotion he heard this n ews

,

and how the man an d the Chr istian struggled withthe man of the world an d the courtie r.” In a tormen tof un certain ty he left La Fe rté an d return ed to Versailles ; and there he heard that Mon se igne ur had so

far recove red,that his friends the fishwomen of Paris

152 SA INT S IM ON.

It was n early mi dn ight when a courier arrived atVersaill es with the n ews of Mon seign eur’s death ; and

Sain t Simon has pain ted for us,as he on ly can pain t

,

the details of the horribly grotesque scen e that en suedwhen the long gallery was ‘

fill e d from e n d to en d withcrowds of half-dressed prin ces an d courtiers roused fromtheir beds ; and he has described for us every posture

,

every attitud e, and every gesture in the scattered groups— each coun tenan ce telling its own hi story

,as he feasted

his eyes on the rich study of human n ature,— unmoved

himself except by a lingering dread that the sick man

might,after all

,have recovered

,and at the same time

heartily ashamed of such an unworthy feelin g. Thevalets

,he says

,coul d n ot con tain their be llowings ,

for they had " lost a master who seemed expresslymade for them 3

”the greatest part of the courtiersthat is

,the fools —dragged out their sighs with their

nails,

and with dry and wandering eyes praised thedeparted prin ce. Some

,again

,remained buried in

thought,and saying n othing 3 others eviden tly relieved ,

but hid in g their happin ess by an assumed air of sadn ess,

but the veil over their face was tran sparen t, and hidnot a single expression .

” The Duke of Burgundy wasstrongly moved, and showed natural sorrow 3 the Duchess,graceful as usual

,had a troubled air of compassion

,

which every on e took for grief,but she found extreme

difficu lty in keeping up appearan ces,

and when herb rother-ih -law [the Duke of Berry] howled— she blewher n ose 3

”the Duchess of Orlean s,whosemajestic coun

tenan ce told n othing 3”her hu sband weeping Violen tly

in a back room,where Sain t Simon found him

,to his

great amazemen t and implored him to dry his eyes at

MONSEIGNEUR’

S DEAT H. 153

on ce,for every on e who saw them red woul d con sider

it a most ill timed comedy. Then there was theMeudon cabal plun ged in to bitter grief at the sud

d e n d own fall of their hopes and schemes,—the Duchess

of Berry in particular showin g horror mingled withdespair pain ted on her face— a kin d of furious grief

,

based not on afi e ction but on in terest. Amidst it all,

Madame,

1 arrayed in full dress,arrived on the scen e

howling , and , not kn owing why or whe refore, flood e d themall with he r tears as she embraced them ,

and made thepalace re -echo again with her cries, and pre se n ted the extraord inary spe ctacle of a prin cess who had put on he r Statedress at midn ight to come and weep and lament among acrowd of women in their n ight -dresses

,almost l ike mas

qu e rade rs .

In the galle ry the re were several tent-be dste ads place dthere for security, in which some of the Swiss guards an d

se rvants slept,and they had be en pu t out as u sual _be for e

the bad n ews came from Meudon . While some of the ladie swere talkin g most earn estly, Madame d e Castrie s,who touche don e of the beds

,felt it move

,and was much te rrifie d . A

moment afterwards the lad ies saw a gre at bare arm sudd e n ]ydraw aside the curtain and d isclose to them a stout hon estSwiss guard between the shee ts

,half awake and utte rly dum

foundere d,and who took a long time to make out the com

pany in which he foun d himself,though he stared in tently

at them all,on e after the other 3 an d at last, n ot thinking

it proper to get up in the midst of such a gran d assemblage ,he buried himself in his b e d and drew the curtain again .

Appare ntly the good fe llowhad gon e to b e d be fore anv

body had heard the n ews,and had slept so profoundly eve r

sin ce as to have on ly just awoke. The sadd e st sights areoften liable to the most absurd contrasts. This sight made

1 Monsie u r’

s widow,

-se e p . 62.

154 SAIN T S IM ON.

all the lad ies n ear the be d laugh,and caused some alarm

to the Duchess of Orlean s and he r friends who had beentalking with her, lest they should have be en ove rheard 3but,on r e fle ction , they we re reassured by the heavy slumberand stupidi ty of

the fellow .

There was little sleep for any on e else on that even tfuln ight

,and Sain t Simon was himself astir again at seven

in themorn ing 3 but, he says, such restlessn ess is sweet,

an d such awaken ings have a pleasan t flavour of theirown.

156 SAINT S IMON.

prin ce a work of His right hand,and he came forth

from this abyss affable, gen tle, human e, moderate, patien t,modest

,humble

,an d austere. He passed indeed from

on e extreme to the other, and his piety an d reserve attimes tried the patien ce of his best friends at Court.He refused to be presen t at a ball given at Marly on

Twelfth Night, because it happen ed to be the Feast ofthe Epiphany as well ; and on ce even Louis

,when

summon ing him to a coun cil of war,said iron ically

,

Come,—that is, un less you prefer going to Vespers.

He lived at this time the life of a recluse,absorbed in

study,“

an d con stantly

r e ading the Blue—books”of hisday

,-long treatises on finan ce

,on commerce

,and on the

in ternal admin istration of Fran ce,prepared for him by

practical statesmen like Chevreuse and Beauvill iers .

It was thr ough the good office s of these veteran politician s that Sain t Simon owed his in troduction to theyoung prin ce. “For many years they n ever lost theopportun ity,

”he says,

of in spi ri ng him with feelingsof friend ship

,esteem

,an d personal regard for me 3 an d

then,with that warmth of affection which was as strong

a feeling with him as his hatred , Sain t Simon made anidol of the young prin ce

,and credited him with being

n othing less than perfection both in head an d heart.As has been seen

,he supported him warmly when

attacked for his conduct during the campaign 0 11

1708 3

he was n ever weary of en larging on hi s talen ts and

capacity to the small circle of d evoted frien ds who had,

like himself,great hopes of Fen elon ’

s pupil 3 and,as

Sain t Simon was n ever happy un less he had a pe n in hishand

,it probably n eeded very little persuasion on the

part of Beauvilliers to induce him to put on paper his

THE DAUPHIN. 157

views on what may be called the whole duty of a prin ce.It is an eloquen t if a somewhat in coheren t essay

,and

begins with a graceful complimen t to Fen elon ,whose

hand “was so singularly formed by heaven to sow the goodseed on a rich soil.”What the Dauphin most require dwas that kn owledge of the world that can n ever begain ed from books or the compan ion ship of “ a troop of

women . He must not carry his studies too far in tolife

,much less waste his time on abstract science

,on

mechan ics,or on frivolous experimen ts . He should leave

such van ities to'

pr ie sts and recluses,and apply himself

instead to the one master—scien ce— that of governmen t—to which all other scien ces are but as stepping—ston es.

He shoul d talk less to his con fessor,and more to the

statesmen and politician s of his day ; he should makefriends with me n of differen t classes

,and learn from

each and all lesson s of real life that would be of morevalue to a future king than all the folios of the Jesuitsor all the learn ing of the Sorbonn e ; and he shouldgather this practical kn owledge from the best me n of

thei r class,

as bees gather the sweetest hon ey fromdifferen t flowe rs. And thus he would become himself

,

as a true prin ce should be , an epitome of the State.”

The Dauphin ’

s character seems to have received afresh impulse after Mon seign eur’s death. He left hisstudy an d his books

,and began to mingle freely in

sodie ty, talking sen sibly an d agreeably,and charming all

alike by hi s polite and gr aceful mann er . He becamea second Prin ce de Con ti ; people open ed their eyes and

ears,and asked on e an other if this was the same man

they had kn own before, and if it was a dream or a

reality.

158 SAINT S IMON.

The king showed him every mark of confid ence 3 theMin isters had orders to take their portfolios to him

,and

acquain t himwith all public busin ess ; an d we are toldthat in their turn they were aston ished

,though n ot

altogether delighted,at the variety and d epth of his

information . As to Sain t Simon,this change was like

the realisation of some delightful dream. Here was aprin ce such as his fan cy had pictured

,impressed like

himself with a sen se of the dign ity of the ducal order,of

the usurpation s of the bourgeoisie and the bastards,

and of the n ecessity of recon structing society on the oldlin es of feudalism. The prin ce and the duke had longin terviews

,in which they d iscussed and arranged the

policy of the future ; but these in terviews were kept aprofoun d secret from all the world . But on e aftern oon

The sitting was a long on e,and after it ended we sorted our

papers . He gave me some of his to pu t in my pocket, and hetook some of m in e . He shut them up in his desk

,and in

stead of putting the rest in his bureau he left them outsid e,

and began to talk with his back to the fir e place—his papersin on e hand and hi s bag in the other. I was stand ing Upn e ar the bureau looking for ce rtain pape rs

,and hol ding some

others in my hand , when al l at on ce the door open ed opposite me and the Dauphin ess ente red .

T he first coup ol’oei l of al l three of u s— for

,thank heaven !

she was alon e— the aston ishmen t painted on our three faces,

have n eve r le ft my memory . This fixe d stare,this statue

like immobility,this silen ce an d embarrassment in al l three

of u s,lasted longer than a slow Pater . The prin cess broke

it first . She said to the prin ce in a Very discomposed voice,

that she d id n ot think he was in such good companysmiling at him and then at me . I had time to smile also

,

and then lower my eyes before the Dauphin an swered .

Sin ce you hnd me so,madame

,

’said he

,smil ing at the

1 60 SAINT S IM ON.

swept away 3 all citizen s were to be equal before thelaw

,and share equally in the burd en s of taxation 3

there was to be a n ew Fran ce an d a n ew people,n ot

worn out with toil and misery,but free

,con ten ted

,and

industrious 3 and above them,tier upon tier

,were to rise

the ranks of the peerage,culmin ating in the DUKES

,

second to royalty alon e,and the most precious jewels

of the crown .

”An d

,as in Plato’s Republic n othing

was n eeded for its fulfilme nt but a prin ce who shouldbe a philosopher as well

,so in Sain t Simon ’

s Utopia allwas to be realised when the Dauphin became a king.

The Duke of Burgundy was to be the second Ezra,

who should restore the temple,and lead back the people

of God after their long captivity.

The young Duchess of Burgundy was far more popularthan her husband. She had brought with her to thejaded Court at Versail les all the freshn ess and spirit ofa young gir l of seventeen ,

and lighted up every corn erof the gloomy palace like sun shin e on a win ter’s day .

Louis himself almost idolised her,and showed her far

more affection than he had ever shown to his own

children . A letter of his addressed to Madame d eMain ten on is still preserved, in which he graphically describes how greatly her first appearan ce haddelighted him 3 and he dwells upon her charms mu chas a veteran train er woul d describe the points of somepromising youn g colt. But her personal beauty was n otso striking as her charming figur e her sweet expression

,an d her graceful carriage. Her walk

,

”says

Sain t Simon,

was that of a goddess over clouds .

The Graces sprang up of themselves at every step she

DUCHESS or BURGUNDY.

1 6 1

took . They adorn ed all her mann ers and her'

simplestwords.

”1Madame de Main ten on un dertook her education

,for

she was hardly twelve years old when she arrived atVersailles, and she was con stan tly with he r and Lou isindeed

,the old king was n ever happy when the young

g irl wa s out of his sight. She would amuse him withher lively stories ; would talk slang (bam gom

'

nag e )in her Italian way 3 caress him,

pin ch him,turn over his

papers,read his letters

,mimic the Min isters almost to

their faces,an d in terrupt the gravest conversation with

some gay remark. On e day Louis was talking toMadame de Mainten on over the chan ces of peace at theaccession of Queen Ann e. My aun t

,

”said the Dauph

ine ss, you must allow t hat the queen s govern betterthan the kings l n Englan d 3 an d do you kn ow why, myaun t !” Then

,skipping about the room all the while

,

she wen t ou under kings it is the womenwho govern

,and the me n under the queen s . The best

of it was,con tinues Sain t Simon

,that both the kin g

an d Madame de Main ten on laughed heartily,an d said

she was right.Nothing can be tenderer or more graceful than Sain tSimon ’

s picture of the young duchess who had won alltheir hearts 3 and he passes l ightly

'

ove r her in d i scretion s,

though on e fl ir tation (in n ocen t en ough on her s ide) hada s trangely tragical end ing. The d isappoin ted loveran Abbe Maulevr ier— grew so fran tically j ealous of his

1 Saint Simon ,con sciou sly or u ncon sciou sly

,is tran slating Pro

pe r tiu s . T hose who wish to se e a mor e mod e rn translation of the se

famou s lin e s shou ld con su lt Sir A . He lps’

s Re almah (i .

F .C.

—X. L

1 62 SAIN T S IM ON.

supposed rival, a young captain in the Guards,that

,

after a hundred foll ies,he wen t raving mad

,thr ew

himself from a Window in his delirium,and was miser

ably dashed to pieces . The young prin cess shed somebitter tears at the time

,an d did n ot recover her usually

gay spirits for weeks afterwards. Yet n either her hu sband n or the king ever guessed the true reason ofMau l e vr ie r

’s death

,and the secret

,if there was on e

,was

faithfully kept by those who kn ew it. Even in thatCourt of scan dal! an d in trigue she had not made an

en emy. Ah,my dear Duke !

”wrote Madame deMain ten on to De Noail le s after her d eath, “who

,in

deed,that ever kn ew her

,could help loving her 2

On e even ing , at Fon tain ebleau, when the ladies and princesses were in the same room as herself and the king aftersupper, she had been talking n on sen se in all kinds of lan

g uages , and said a hundred child ish things to amuse theking

,who d e lighted in them

,when she n oticed the two

prin cesses of Condé and Con ti looking at he r , making sign sto on e an other

,and shrugg ing their should e rs with an air of

con tempt and d isdain . The king rose an d passed in to a backroom to fe ed his dogs, and the Dauphiness then took Madamed e Sain t Simon by on e hand

,and Madame d e Levy by the

other,and poin ted to the two prin ce sse s

,who we re only a

few paces from them .

‘Did you se e ! did you se e !’said

she 3 I kn ow just as well as they do that there is n o com

mon -se n se in what I have just done and said,and that it is

al l wretched stuff still,on e must make a n oise

,and this

sort of thin g amuse s him’

(the king) . Then , al l at once,

lean ing on the ir arms,she be gan to dance an d sing.

‘Ha,

ha l I laugh at it al l ! Ha,ha ! I make fun of them

,and

I shall be their que en,and I have n othing to do w ith them

e ither n ow or ever afte r,and the y W ill have to reckon with

me,and I shall be their que e n ,

’still jumping and skipping

164 SAIN T S IMON.

her sufferings were in ten se, and she gradually loststrength

,as this mysteri ous d isease fasten ed upon her

system. The doctors tried the severe remed ies then111 fashion— opium

,bleed ing

,an d emetics— but without

success . The fever in creased, and,

“ like a devouringfire

,

”says Sain t Simon

,

“ preyed upon he r n ight and

day. She was induced to make her last con fession ,

though she would n ot make it to her own co.

n fessorthe prayers for the dying were said over her 3 the Sacramen t was admin istered ; and soon afterwards she sanki n to ~

a~

stupor from which she n ever rallied .

It was kn own that the Dauphin was sicken ing of thesame terrible fever

,but

,as long as he could stand

,he

could n ot be induced to leave his wife’s bedside. Forthe first few days of her illn ess he bore up again st hissufferings

,but at last his strength gave way, an d he was

carr ie d . to his rooms . at Marly. Saint Simon saw him

there for the last time,an d was te rrifie d at his wild and

haggard looks,an d at the livid marks on his face.

His attendan ts proposed to him ,on ce or twice

,to go to

the king’s room,but he n eithe r move d n or an swered . I

drew near and made him signs to go , an d then proposed it tohim in a low voice . Seeing that he still stayed an d keptsilence

,I ve n ture d to take him by the arm

,to represen t to

him that,soon er or lat e r

,he must se e the king

,—that his

Majesty was expe cting him , and sore ly desired to se e and

embrace him ; and pr e ssing'

him thus,

I took the liberty togently push him ou . He threw on me a look that piercedme to the hear t

,and we n t. I followed him a few paces ,

and tore myse lf away from the Spot to gather breath. I

n e ver saw him again from that mome n t. May i t please G odin His mercy that I may se e him etern ally

,where his good

n ess has doubtle ss place d him

DEAT H OF‘

THE DAUPHIN. 1 65

The king embraced his gran dson “ tenderly,long

,and

man y times, their words being almost choked by tearsand sobs ; and

,i mmed iately after the in terview

,the

prin ce was carried to his bed,and he n ever left it again .

The same deadly fever that had carried off his wife hadn ow attacked the husband . Hé lingered

,as she had

d on e,some fo ur days in great agony

,un til death released

him from his sufferings.

Scarcely a mon th afterward s both his young childrensicken ed of the measles 3 the elder died, and the youngerbrother’s life was on ly saved by most careful nursing.

The little child,who thus escaped

,lived to become after

ward s Louis XV.

Thus,three Dauphin s had died within a year

,an d the

strangely sudden mann er of their deaths revived thosehorrible suspicion s that had hung abou t the Duke of

Orlean s all his life. He was n ow cred ited with bein g awholesale murderer

,in add ition to his other s in s . His

n otorious impiety,his scan dalous life

,an d the hours

passed by him in his laboratory,all served to strengthen

the popul ar belief that he had deliberately poison ed theDauphin

,the Dauphin ess

,an d their young child

,to clear

his own Way to the thron e of Fran ce. Medical eviden ce

,also

,seemed to poin t in the same direction 3 for

the seven doctors who had examin ed the bodies declaredthat some subtle and virulen t poison must have been thecause of d eath

,with the exception of Maréchal

,who was

firm in his opi n ion that it was a by n o mean s un usualcase of typhoid fever. .

After being embalmed an d lying in state,the remain s

of the Dauphin and Dauphin ess were carried to their lastresting-place in the Abbey of St Den is. As the cor teg e

1 66 SA INT S IM ON.

passed by torchlight along the Rue'

st Hon oré in to thebroad square of the Palais Royal

,the crowds who lin ed

the streets gave way to tears and sobs of grief 3 butwhen the face of Orlean s was seen through the windowof his coach

,there was a fur ious uproar

,for his presen ce

in the procession was felt by all to be a sacrilege to thedead. Curses an d execration s were heard«on all side s ;sticks were shaken and ston es were thrown 3 and

,had

not the Swiss Guards thrust back the mob with theirhalberds

,Sain t Simon believes that the Duke woul d

then and there have been torn to pieces.

But,with all his Vi ces

,Philip of Orlean s was n ot a

murderer. He was both soft-hearted an d affection ate,

and was,in his own way, attached to his young cousin ,

though their characters were so utterly un like. Afterthe Dauphin ’

s death he had been found by some of theattendan ts stretch ed upon the ground

,and sobbing as if

his heart would break. But at Court n o on e believedin his inn ocen ce. Rumours of the strangest kind werespread to his discredit. It was said that a monk whohad actually admin istered the poison had been arrestedby the prefect of police 3 that his own wife was to bethe n ext victim

,and that the Duke then in tended to

marry the widow of the King of Spain . He indignan tlydemanded a public trial

,and to be con fron ted with his

accusers,an d d efied the judgmen t of his peers and the

Bastille itself,in sisting that

,in justice to the blood of

Hen ry IV.,Fran ce must be convin ced of his inn ocen ce.

Louis on ly shrugged his shoulders.

“ I can tell you,

”hecoldly answered

,that the on ly accusers you have with

me are your own immorality and frightful laxity of principl e .

”At Court he was shunn ed like a pariah,— no on e

CHAPT ER XIII.

THE LAST DAYS OF LOUIS XIV.

EVEN at this lapse of time there is somethingreading Sain t Simon ’

s accoun t of the last few yearsthe great king’s reign . We feel —as Louis felt himselfthat he has lived too long 3 that it would have been betterfor his fame to have d ied at the height of his glory and

prosperity; than to have seen his coun try impoverishedand exhausted by foreign war 3 to have seen the greatn ames that had made his reign so famous

,on e after the

other disappear from hiStOI‘V ‘

and to have seen his familythrough three gen eration s go down to the grave beforehim. Death had been busy on all sides of him in

these latter years . He had lost his wife,his on ly

brother,his son

,his favourite gran dson ,

an d above allhis grandson ’

s wife,the Duchess of Burgundy

,whose

death had created a void at Versailles whi ch n othingcould fill up .

'

The great palace was like a d esert without her

,an d with her the life an d sun shin e of the Court

seemed to have passed away for ever. It was in vainthat Madame de Main ten on tried every mean s of cheering Louis at this melan choly time. Musical even ings atthe Trian on

,scen es from Moliere’s plays, conversation s

LAST DAYS OF LOUIS XIV. 1 69

with his valets, the last n ew scandal,the last ill -natur ed

jest of Lauzun , the last long story told by Vil leroy,

all the trifle s that had occupied and in terested him had

lost their charm. W hat a pun ishm en t,

”wrote hisweary favourite

,

“ to have to amuse a man who is n o

longer amusable 1”

In some ways the king, though he had passed his seventie th year, stil l kept the vigour an d en ergy of former days .

He would ride and drive for hours in the sn ow and rai n3he would make his periodical j ourn eys from Versaill es toMarly

,an d from Marly to Fon tain ebleau 3 and he woul d

still give audien ces to ambassadors, work wholemorn ingswith his Min iste rs

,an d presid e at coun cils of State. But

when the work of the day was over, the long even in gspassed in Madame de Main ten on ’

s room became morean d more in supportable both to him and to her. Shehad grown deaf an d almost blin d a living skeleton

,

she calls herself— and the two would sit for hours silen t,

forlorn,an d brooding over the memories of the past

,

their solitude on ly broken by the arrival of a Min iste rwith his tale of some fresh d istress in the provin ces 3 byFagon , the doctor, n ow ben t d ouble with age, but withall his former bittern ess of tongue 3 or by Pere Tell ier,the Je suit

,with hi s evil face and hateful in sinuation s .

There seemed to be a. curse upon the house of Bourbon,

for the Duke of Berry— the best and gen tlest of thefamily— died sudden ly at the age of twen ty-eight. His

horse had stumbled while he was out hun ting,an d thrown

him so Violen tly again st the pommel of the saddle, thathe bled to d eath from some in ternal injury. The heirwas n ow the king’s great—grandson ,

a feeble and sicklychild four years of age.

170 SAINT S IM ON.

To add to the old king’s troubles,a n ew cliqu e was

formed to divert the Regen cy and possible chan ce of

succession to the thr on e from the Duke of Orlean s tothe Duke of Main e

,the favourite son of Lou is by

Madame de Mon tespan . From his boyhood Main e hadbeen petted and caressed by Madame de Main ten on ;and when he grew up, hon our s and wealth without en dhad been showered upon this viper on the hearth

,

”as

Sain t Simon calls him . On e Act of Parliamen t hadremoved the bar - smi ste r from his shield

,a second had

g iven him preceden ce of all the dukes in the peerage,

and a third had placed him within the charmed c i rcle ofprin ces of the blood-royal

,and made him capable of su c

ce e ding to the thr on e as if he had been on e of the trueson s of Fran ce.” Some years before his death

,Louis

had made a personal appeal to his son and grandsonto protect ,Main e an d his children

,to whom he had

just extended all the privileges enj oyed by their father ;an d he made the elder of them,

aged te n,colon el of the

Swiss Guards,and the younger

,aged six, Master of the

Artill ery.

When this had been decided by the king— that is tosay, between him and Madame

' d e Mainten on — the pointwas to declare it 3 and thi s, d e claration produced the strangestand most singu lar scene of any that occurred in al l that longreign to any on e who kn ew the king

,an d his in toxication

with the sen se of absolute sovereign ty. Whe n he en te redhis private room at Versailles on Saturday n ight, March1 5th

,after supper

,and had given his customary orders

,he

advan ced gravely in to the an teroom ,place d himsel f in fron t

of his chair withou t sitting down ,slowly passe d his eyes 0

the whole compan y,and said to them

,without addressin g

any on e in particular, that he gave the children of the Duke

172 SAIN T S IM ON .

This - remarkable scen e had taken place while there wasstill every reason able prospect of Louis being succeededby his son or gran dson . But the sudden death of twoDauphin s had con siderably n arrowed the circle of d irectheirs ; an d in the even t of the little child called theDuke of Anjou also dying

,the crown of Fran ce would

have gon e to the Duke of Orlean s . But this last en actmen t of 1710 had made it possible for the Duke of

Main e to step in to the succession 3 an d it was thechan ce of this that fi ll e d up the measure of Sain tSimon ’

s indignation . He declared that for a kin g thusto de

grade the sacred dign ity of his crown by mak ing

the succ ession “ despotically arbitrary,

”and to give to

a bastard the privileges of a crown prin ce,was a

crime and a sacrilege blacker,vaster

,and more terrible

than high”

treason itself.” An d after enumerating n o

less than fifty—seven successive stages by which Louis

had extended the privileges of his n atural childrenafter read in g this

,

”Sain t Simon con cludes,

on e willbe less struck by the imagination of those poets whomade the gian ts pile moun tain upon moun tain to scalethe heaven s .

This may be so ; but what strikes an impartial ohserver most

,after read i ng this violen t invective

,is,that

it was Sain t Simon himself who was pil in g Ossa on

Pelion— or rather,making moun tain s of molehills— in

such a display of exaggerated in d ignation 3 as,after all

,

Louis was on ly exercising the right of adoption,which

has been a recogn ised prerogative of monarchy s in ce thedays of the Roman emperors, —it might almost be said

,

s in ce the time of the patriarchs . Certain ly3 in the caseof the Bourbons

,as in the case of the Stuarts, the king

s

THE K ING’

S W ILL. 173"

natural children seem to have inherited more of the

an cestral spirit than those born in the purple . Main eand his brother Toulouse were as superior in talent toBurgundy and Berry, as Monmouth and Berwick wereto the unfortunate James II . or the still more unfor

tunate “Pretender .But Sain t Simon ’

s ; prejudices will n ot allow toMaine the possession of a single virtue . He was as

false and unscrupulous,we are told

,as Madame de

Maintenon herself,and imposed upon Louis by an

affected piety and simplicity,— “

so little did the kingrealise what a rattlesnake he was cherishing in thebosom of his family .

”Bu t even all that had been

already don e for Main e did not satisfy him or hisfriends

,and some further official san ction was

i

n e e de d

to secure his future sovereign ty. Accordingly,Pere

Tellier and Madame de Maintenon n ever rested,n ight

and day,until by a sort of moral torture they had forced

Louis to ratify with his own signature what Saint Simoncalls an enormous crime .

” They played upon his fears,

of poison,which had haun ted him ever sin ce the Duchess

of Burgundy’

s death,and they made his life m1se rable

to him,until at last he gave way. One morn ing the

Procureur-General and the President of Parliamen t weresummon ed to Versailles

,and the king solemnly handed

them a document “sealed with seven seals .

”It was

(he said with a weary sigh) his will , which he had beeninduced to sign as the price of his repose ; it wouldprobably be se t aside after his death

,like the wills of

his predecessors , but such as it was,they must take it

and guard it safely ! and now he trusted he should beallowed to die in peace .

1 74 SAIN T S IM ON.

The aston ished Min isters took the will, and solemn lydeposited it, with all the security that iron bolts and

doors could give, in a tower of the Palace of Ju sticeat Paris . But though it had been so carefully sealed

,

its con ten ts were gen erally kn own . O rlean s was to benominally Regen t ; but all real authority was to bevested in a coun cil composed of the personal friend sand adheren ts of Main e

,Who was himself to be the

tutor and govern or of the young king.

But in Spite of his prospects of future grandeur,

Main e was by n o mean s easy in his mind. Betweenthe prin ces and the peers

,he felt that he might be

crushed at any momen t. The sword of Dionysiushung by a hair above his head, says Sain t Simon

,

grandiloqu en tly ; and his sen se of in security madehim seek allies on all sides . He first mad e overturesto the coun cillors in the Parliamen t, and then to thedukes

, promi smg great things apparen tly to both, but,if we may believe Sain t S imon , on ly with the in ten tionof embroiling the two parties in a person al quarrel. He

had bribed the First Presiden t,he had cajoled the Par

l iame n t,he had deceived the peers with the false pre

ten ce of taking their side 3 but, after all, his pe rfidy hadbeen found out. He devoted himself to the powersof darkn ess

,an d the very powers of darkn ess would

n ot receive him. Saint Simon had an in terview withhim

,and spoke out his mind (if we may take his own

accoun t) with his customary freedom.

Al l at on ce,looking at him straight be tween the eyes It

is you , sir , who have engaged u s [the d uk e sl in this affair, inspite of ou rselve s 3 it is you who have an swe red for the king,for the First Presiden t

,and for the Parliamen t ; and lastly, it

1 76 SAINT S IM ON .

his position . Even his own wife was supposed tofavour her brother’s (Main e

s) claims W e are losti n a wood , he said to Sain t S imon

,and cann ot take

too much care of ourselves . An d then he tried toforget his anxieties in the d issipation s of Sain t Cloudand the Palais Royal.But

,fortun ately for him,

his friends had more en ergyof character ; and forward among them was his tutor

,

the Abbe Dubois , and,it n eed hardly be said

,Sain t

Simon . They took decisive steps to rall y their partyround them . They secured on their side the greatMarshals of Fran ce

,the peers

,the princes of the blood

,

the Jan sen ists, an d man y of the cler0gy, the Parliamen t,whose members had been slighted by Louis and dupedby Main e

,and lastly

,the household troops —a picked

body of te n thousan d me n— were to be kept i n r e ad i

n ess,in case of a coup d

e’

ta t,that

,like the Praetorian

Guard s of old,they might decide the fate of the empire

with their swords .

Frequen t con feren ces of Orlean s’s friends were held,

and their future poli cy discussed at length . As usual,

Sain t Simon was ready with a model con stitution,much

like the on e he had before proposed to the young Dukeof Burgundy. The Secretaries of State that tyrann yof five kings -were to be abolished

,an d a coun cil of

s 1xty was to take their place 3 the n obility were to berein stated in their an cie n t privileges 3 the whole army of

G overnment official s were to be sen t about their busin ess ; an d as the on ly mean s of extricating the coun tryfrom the enormou s debts con tracted during the late war

,

a national bankruptcy was to be declared at on ce,sin ce

,

in a choice of evils,it was better that the loss should

THE KING’

S ILLNESS . 1 77

fall on the capitalists those voracious an imals thathad preyed upon the Vitals of their coun try.

Their oppon en ts,Sain t Simon thought

,should be

treated with toleration,except that the bastards

should be deprived of their il l-gotten hon ours. As tothe Je su its

,it would be su fficie n t if Pere Tellier was

civn ly dismissed to the college of La Fléche 3 and if

Lallemand and Doucin the fir ebrands of the plot an dmost dangerous scoundrels — were shut up in Vin cenn eswithout pen s

,ink

,or paper. As to Madame de Main

ten on,

“ there was n othing more to be feared from thatfairy of n early eighty 3 her powerful an d fatal wand hadbeen broken

,and she had once more become the wid ow

Scarron .

” Beyond allowing her personal liberty and acompeten ce

,all credit and con sideration should be taken

from her. She had d eserved far worse treatmen t thanthis

,both from the State and the Duke of Orlean s.

At last the even t which both parties had . been so

anxiously expecting came to pass. In the summer of

1 7 15 the king’s health showed sign s of rapid declin e.His appetite

,usually so good

,began to fail him 3 he lost

fle sh ; and it seemed that the diet of strong soups and

spiced meats prescribed by his physician,followed by

a quan tity of fruits an d sweetmeats,had impair ed his

digestive powers. His own courtiers n oticed his changedappearan ce

,and wagers were open ly laid at the Hague

an d at St James’s that he would n ot live an other threeweeks . Still Fag on ,

his physician,persisted that there

was n o real danger.But on the l 0th of August

,as he was walking in the

gardens of Versaill es,he sudden ly staggered

,and had to

be carried in to the palace,and his serious illn ess coul d

M

1 78 SAIN T S IM ON.

n o longer be con cealed. Still he held his coun cil andgave aud ien ce as usual

,although it was n oticed When he

received the Persian ambassador,that he tottered under

the weight of his robes . He even persisted in bein gcarried to hear Mass

,an d was presen t at a con cert in

Madame d e Main ten on ’

s room 3 an d,as he was being

wheeled along on e of the corridors,he me t Madame d e

Sain t Simon,who had been away from Cour t for a fort

n ight,and with his usual courtesy stopped his chair

and spoke to her but she d eclared afterward s that sheshould hardly have recogn ised the king

,so terribly had

his appearan ce changed in the last te n days.

Ou the 24th he d in ed in public for the last time, andwas eviden tly growing weaker. But still he clung tolife. Ou t he Sun day the drums and hautboys wereordered to

I

play as usual under his windows —for it wasthe Feast of Sain t Louis— and his stringed band performed in the ante-chamber during d inn er. But thesame even ing he was seize d with a kin d o f fit

,an d his

mind began to wan der '

and so critical did his stateappear to his doctors that Pere Tellier and the Cardin alde Rohan were hastily summon ed to his room,

and hemade his last con fession and received the last Sacramen t. Immediately afterwards he added

,

a cod icil tohis will.All day the galleries and an te—chambers were fill e d

with a crowd of anxious courtiers, talkin g in low whispers

,an d trying to learn something from the valets and

doctors who passed in cessan tly backwards and forwardsfrom t he room where the king was lying. His own

d ign ity and presen ce of mind n ever left him. Why

180 SA IN T S IMON.

an cien t fairy,who

,n ot con ten t with being queen

,appa

re n tly wished to be immortal as well .”At the time

,

indeed,she made n o reply, but afterward s remarked to

her servan t,Nan on A hu e ren dezvous he has given

me 1 This man has n ever loyed any on e but himself 1An d then she ordered her carriage and drove off toSain t Cyr .

The approachi ng death of the king had emptied thecorridors and galle rie s of Versailles

,and all the courtiers

had thronged the rooms of the Duke of Orlean s. Butsudden ly a rumour came that the king had rallied

,and

back they all rushed at on ce to the royal apartmen ts.

Orlean s was amused at this trait of human nature.My dear duke

,

”he said to Sain t Simon,who came to

se e him in his solitude,

you are the first person I

have seen to-day 3”

and he added,laughingly

,If the

king eats again,we shall se e n obody but ourselves .

The doctors had brought Louis an elixir,said to be

of marvellous e fficacy, which a coun tryman had persuad e d them to give him Sire

,it will restore you to

life.” I n either desire n or hope to live,

”replied theking

,and he drank the potion with indifferen ce for

life or for death,

”he said,

as it shall please God.

The drug, whatever its secret virtues were,seemed to

arrest for a time the progress of the d isease 3 but the reliefwas on ly temporary

,and the gangren e

,which had already

shown itself in his limbs,spre ad upwards

,and gradually

paralysed his system. He was n ow con scious on ly atin tervals

,and it was seen that death must be very n ear.

Y ou can go,”said the con fessor to Madame de Main

te non , who had been hastily summon ed from Sain t Cyr

THE KING’

S DEATH .

you are no longer n ecessary to him 3 an d she ao

cord ingly left Versailles for the last time.1

The king’s calmn ess,in the in tervals when he was

con scious,seemed extraord inary even to his physician s .

W as it,as they suggested , that his malady had deaden ed

all men tal as well as bodily sen sation 3 or was it, as

others supposed, that he had been affil iate d to theOrder of the Jesuits, an d that the plenary ben ediction”he received from them had soothed and tranquill ise d his spirit !The prayers for the dying wer e n ow said over him

,

and he join ed l n the respon ses with a Voi ce still so

strong and clear that it was heard above the voicesof the priests aroun d him. Then

,as his sufferings

grew more terrible,he was heard repeating in cessan tly

to himself ! “Nnno e t eh hor d mor tis— Have pity 0 11

me,O my God ! come to my aid ! hasten to succour

me 1” These were his last audible words. Al l that

n ight he still lingered ou‘

in his last agony,an d it was

n ot till past eight o’clock on the foll owing morn ingthat death at length released him. The Je su it, who hadn ever left his bedside

,placed a crucifix

on his breast 3an office r in attendan ce stopped the palace clock at thefatal momen t 3 a herald thr ew Open the win dows of the

chamber,stepped out upon the balcony

,an d

,in accord

an ce with immemorial custom,thrice proclaimed

,

“Le

1 M. T heophile Lavall e'e — Madame d e Mainte non’

s most ard ent

apologist—wishe s u s to be li eve that she le ft the be d sid e of the k ing,

when almost in the agon ie s of d e ath,

“ for fe ar that the emotion

cau se d by the sight of he r te ars might pr ejudice his he alth”1 —Familled

Aubigné, p . 468.

1 82 SAINT S IM ON.

r oi e st mor t ; an d a fain t respon se came back from afew bystanders in the courtyard below Vi t e Ze roi

Thus,in his seven ty - seven th year, after the most

even tful reign in Fren ch history— a reign of so muchglory and so much obloquy— the great king wen t to hi srest at last. He had survived

,

”says Sain t Simon

“ all hi s son s and gran dson s,except the Kin g of Spain .

Fran ce had n ever seen a reign so long or a king so old.

184 SAINT S IM ON.

of a dying king. Fleury and D ’Agu e sse au eloquen tly

supported him 3 and after a warm discussion,and an

adjournmen t of the meeting, it ended (as Louis had himself foretold) in Orlean s being declared Regen t withfu ll powers by a unan imous vote, while Main e wasstripped of all authority

,and every clause favourable

to his claims found in the will was at on ce se t aside .Even at this very meeting, when the future Governmen t of the kingdom was at stake

,Sain t Simon ’

s smallshrill voice was heard protesting as to the rights of thedukes to remain covered when they addressed the Parl iame n t (afi

'

az’

r e da bonn e t) . It was,

”he d e clar e d

,

“ theirmost peculiar

,most cherished

,and most just prerogative !”

Public affairs during the king’s min ority were to becarried on by seven Coun cils “ answering very muchto our Public Departmen ts

,except that there was on e

of Con scien ce speciall y devoted to Church matters .

Each coun cil con sisted of seven members 3 and abovethem all was that of the Rege n cy

,of which Sain t

Simon was himself a member. But these Coun cilshad a brief existen ce

,and within two ye ars

l

t ime theywere all abolished

,with the except ion of the Regen t’s

select advisers.Even more than either Alcibiades or Buckingham,

theReg en t was all mankind’s epitome. Two oppositen atures seemed to be constan tly struggling in him for

the mastery,and his mother the Prin cess of Bavaria

described this medley of good and evil in a well—kn ownfable Al l the fairies had come to his birth

,an d each

of them had given her son some talen t,so that he

possessed them all. But un luckily they had forgottento invite one old fairy

,who had disappeared for so

THE REGENT . 85

long that no on e had thought of her. She came atlast, lean in g on her little wand, after the others hadeach made her presen t to the child ; an d

, growing moreand more in cen sed at the n eglect

,she avenged herself

by making all the talen ts given by the others absolutelyworthless

,an d though he retain ed them all, n on e of

them helped him in the least d egree.”1l

Sain t Simon,

who had kn own the Regen t from boyhood, thoroughlyconfirms this character of him. He was an ae com

pl ishe d pain ter and musician,yet a drunken supper

party afford ed the pleasan test sights and sound s to him 3he had a taste for scien ce and chemistry

,yet would

waste hours in foolish magical experimen ts ; he hadlearn ing

,eloquen ce

,an d a marvellous memory for facts

and dates, ye t surpassed even his own T ones 2 of the

Palais Royal in ribaldry and profan ity ; he was ami

able,kind—hearted

,and gen erous

, ye t“n either grace n or

justice could be got from him except by workin g on hisfears 3

”he was brave almost to rashn ess in the held,but

was destitute of any moral courage, timid, irresolute, andin curably lazy in all matters except pleasure.Louis kn ew his n ephew’

s character as well as Sain tSimon 3 and on ce

,when Maréchal

,his surgeon

,was

talking of Orlean s’s various accompli shmen ts,and said

that,if the prin ce had to work for his living

,he would

find five or six ways of getting it Y e s,

”said Lou is

,

my n ephew is all you have just said. He is a braggart

1 Macau lay has appl ie d this fable to Lord Byron ’

s characte r in a

we ll-known passage of his Essays .

2 Orle ans himse lf applied this word to his boon compani on s,—me n

who d e se r ve d to be “ brok e n on the whe e l —or,as we might say,

for whom hang ing was too good .

186 SAINT S IM ON.

of imaginary crimes”(“ e’

est nn fanfar on d e s cr imes

I was quite amazed,says Sain t Simon

,at such a gran d

stroke of description coming from the king’s mouth.

Sain t Simon dwells at some length upon the mingledvein of superstition an d scepticism in the character of

Orleans,who was too clever

,he says

,to be an atheist

,

although he pretended to be on e and who,if a dan

g e rous illn ess had attacked him,would have thrown

himself in to the hand s of all the priests and capuchin sin Paris .

” But his great desire was “ to raise the devilan d make him speak

,

”an d for this purpose he would

pass whole n ights in the quarries of Vaugirard , utteringspells and invocation s. On ce while he was in this mooda clairvoyan ce r came to Paris, an d brought with him alittle girl who professed to se e the future in a glass of

water. Orlean s invited them to the Palais Royal, an d

after testing the young girl’s powers of prophecy withvarious question s

,he at last asked her to describe what

would happen at the king’s d eath. (It should be n otedthat he told all this to Sain t Simon in a conversation mu e

years before the king a ctually died. )

She looked in the glass of water,and told him at some

length all she saw. She accurately described the king’sroom at Versailles, and the furn iture in it

,precise ly as it

was whe n he d ied . She gave an exact picture of the kingas he lay in his bed

,an d of e ve rybody stan d ing up close to

the be d“

or in the room— a little child wearing a blue order,

held in the arms of Madame d e Ve ntadour— e and at see ingher the girl utte re d a cry of recogn ition

,for she had se en her

at Mademoiselle d e Sé ry’s. She the n made them recogn ise

Madame d e Mainte non,and the singular fig ur e of Fagon 3

1

1 Pagon,the physician

,was be nt n e arly double with age and rhe u

matism.

188 SAINT S IM ON.

from the obscurity of these two prophecies, the van ity of

this sort of curiosity,the j ust dece it of the devil Which God

allows in order to pun ish the curiosity which He forbidsthe cloud s and darkn e ss which result from it

,in place of

the light and satisfact ion sought for . Orle ans was then along way from be ing Rege n t of the kingdom

,or from e ve n

dreaming of such a thing ! Y e t this it was perhaps thatthis sin gular kind of crown announced to him . Al l thistook place in Paris

,at the house of his mistress

,in presen ce

of their most intimate circle of fri e nds,on the ve ry even ing

be fore the day on which he told m e of i t,and I thought the

story so extraord inary that I have given it a place he re,— not

in the way of approval, but as a simple stateme n t of fact.”

Any Virtuous i nstin cts that Orlean s might have originally possessed had been hopelessly perverted by the fatalin fluen ce of his

itutor Dubois . This man had practised

on the facile n ature of his pupil, an d in stilled in to hisheart an execrable p0 1son . He taught him to dishelieve in the very existen ce of moral pri n ciple 3 to regardv irtue and Vice as mere 'conven tion al fiction s dressed upby priests 3 that hon our in me n an d chastity in women

were chimeras,and had n o real existen ce in any on e

,

except in a few poor slaves of prejudice,”and that in his

n atural heart every man was vile and wicked. Orleansused occasion ally to rally Sain t Simon on his superiorvirtue

,as being an old-fashion ed complain t that he ought

to have got over in his childhood 3 and he certain ly -didhis best to show that he was n ot himself hampered byany such lingering sen timen ts of morality. The moredebauched a man was ,

”we are told

,the more he

est eemed him.

”His most outrageous orgies were pur

pose ly celebrated on the holiest days of the year,and his

most familiar friends were selected from the most profi

THE REGENT ’

S LIFE . 189

cien t graduates in Vice. Their mean origin was rather arecommendation in his eyes

,for he had a thorough con

tempt for n obles of his own rank,

m in fact,he thought

they were,if possible

,more easily bought an d sold than

the rest of mankind 3 and he was disposed to agree withhis mistress

,Madame de Sabran

,who declared that “God

at the creation had taken what was left of the clay,an d

made of it the souls of prmce s and lackeys.

But Orlean s was something more than a man of pleasure. Up till five o

’clock in the day he was the Regen t,and

,as such

,devoted himse lf to public busin ess . He

presided at his coun cil,con sulted with his colleagues,

dictated to his secretaries,received ambassadors 3 at two

o’clock he took his chocolate,for he n ever din ed

,and

then paid visits or en tertain ed visitors up till five . Afterthat hour he con sidered himself absolved from official

cares,and rushed off like an eman cipated schoolboy to

the Luxembourg or Palais Royal,where he amused him

self for the rest of the even ing. I was n ever presen t,

says Sain t Simon,at on e of his suppers . They

were scen es of unbridled licen ce 3 and when the guestswere very dr unk and had made a good deal of n oise

,they

wen t to be d,to begin the same game again the n ext day .

Yet in his wild estmomen ts Orlean s n ever let a State secretescape him

,and the most favoured of his mistresses was

n ever admitted to his confid e n ce . He treated them all,we are told

,just as they deserved to be treated— giving

them little power an d very little mon ey. Whatever theRegen t’s follies might have been

,he was n ot to be too

easily duped by a Main ten on or a Pompadour.On e gen erous act of the Regen t

,in the early days of

his power, deserves to be recorded . He sen t for the list

190 SAINT S IM ON.

of all the le ttr es d e cache t issued during the last re1gnthe number has been computed at something like thirtythousand— wen t carefully through the n ames of thoseimprison ed in the Bastille, an d restored them all to libe rty, excepting such as were charged with treason orgrave offen ces .

Among the poor wretches thus se t free was on e un

happy man who had come from Italy,an en tire stranger

to Fran ce,some thir ty years before

,and who

1

had beenarrested by the police the momen t he se t foot in Paris

,

and thrown in to the Bastille. N0 on e kn ew his offen ce 3n o record of any crime appeared again st him in the prisonbooks ; and the officials themselves believed it was amistake.”

Wh en his liberty was ann ou n ce d to him,he sadly aske d

what he could do with it. He had n ot,he said

,a farthing

in the world— he did n ot kn ow a soul in Paris— n ot e venthe name of a single stree t, nor a person in all Fran ce. His

relation swere probably d e ad , an d his property divid e d among

strangers, during his long absen ce . He did n ot know whathe could do with himself if se t free

,and he begg e d , to be

allowed to remain in the Bastille for the rest of his days,with food and lodging. This favour was gran ted him .

Orlean s would also have recalled the Huguen ots, andrepair ed

,if he could

,some of the mischief caused by

that sign al act of tyrann y which had ban ished themfrom Fran ce. But, strange to say, Sain t Simon stronglyopposed such a measure— though on political

,not on re

l igiou s, grounds . There would be an other League,he

d eclared,and probably an other civil war, if these ex iles

were allowed to return .

The embarrassed state of the finan ce s was the chief

SAIN T S IM ON.

wild and i l lusory a scheme as the South Sea Bubbleitself. Magn ificen t promises were held out to the shareholders unlimited wealth from the gold -min es of

Louisiana, and a mon opoly of Fren ch commerce. Theshares at on ce wen t up to twen ty times their value ;en ormous fortun es were made

'

in a few hours ; papern otes were issued in ceaseless abundan ce 3 and Law’

s

office s,in the n arrow Rue de Quin campoix

,were thr onged

n ight and day by eager speculators . He lived in a stateof siege

,says Sain t Simon

,

“an d saw people clamber

in through his windows from the‘ gard en

,or drop down

the chimn ey into his private room. M en on ly talked ofmillion s.

Sain t Simon himself was sceptical both as to the bankand the company

,an d he refused to take a '

shar e in eitherOn e or the other. Sin ce the days of Midas

,

”he said,

“n o on e before this Scotchman had ever been giftedwith the power of turn ing what he touched in to gold ;and this skilful jugglery

,which put Peter’s mon ey in to

Paul’s pocket,must

,scon e r or later

,e n d i n utter ruin .

”'

It was even as he an ticipat ed . The foolish prodigalityof the Re gent

,and the extravagan t amoun t of paper

mon ey issued by Law,produced their natural couse

qu en ce s . There was a vague su spiécion

,a pan ic

,a ru n

upon the bank ; the Prin ce of Con ti alon e carried off

thr ee waggon—loads of gold,in stead of paper

,i n an after

n oon ! then every on e tried to realise mon ey in place ofhis n otes before the crash came— and then the bubbleburst. In spite of every effort made by the Regen t tobolster up the system,

even going so far as to confiscateall the gold and j ewellery found in private houses, Law

s

n otes were found to be waste paper ; eighty thousand

THE REGENT . 93

families were ruin ed, and , amidst the general distress andcon sternation ,

Law himself escaped from Fran ce.Strangely en ough

,Sain t Simon does n ot blame thi s

adven tu rer. There was n either avarice nor roguery inhis composition ,

he tells us . He was the dupe of hisown Mississippi scheme. He reason ed like an

Englishman—fi not knowing how opposed to the spirit ofcommerce is the frivolity of the Fren ch nation

,their

in experien ce,and their greedin ess to enrich themselves

by on e lucky stroke.”

It may be doubted if Sain t Simon played quite theimportan t part under the Regen cy that he had picturedto himself. He was

,n o doubt

,on e of Orlean s’s oldest

and most trusted friends ; but then Orlean s was keensighted and suspi ci ous to the last degree. He on ly “

laughed at Sain t S imon ’

s warmth and impetuosity ; heridiculed the pre tensions of the dukes 3

”he turn ed off

the most serious question s with some buffoon ery 3 and , ifhe cou ld n ot otherwise escape

,he tr ifle d and temporise'd

,

or made promises that were n ever kept.But

,in spite of many disappoin tmen ts

,Sain t Simon

enj oyed some days of Signal triumph 3 and among themmay be reckon ed that on which the Regen t was at lastpersuaded to take heart of grace

,summon a Bed of

Justice,and “ humble the arrogan ce of the Parli amen t

,

and strip the false plumage from the king’s bastardchildren .

Main e,whose degradation was the special object of

this Bed of Ju stice,seems to have offered a passive

resistan ce 3 but his wife showed more spirit than herhusband

,an d declared she would se t fire to the four

corn ers of the kingdom soon er than give up his rights.

FoCo—Xc

194 SAIN T S IM ON.

She was an imperious,self-wil led

,fan tastic little per

sonag e— small in stature

,like all the Condés, but with

a restless an d volatil e temperamen t. She reign ed atSceaux like a queen of Lill iput, giving endless fe

'

te s an d

en tertainmen ts— n ow acting Athalie,

”and now study

ing astron omy or reading Greek with the learn edMal e zieux .

” She turn ed the n ight in to day,and spen t

her husband’s mon ey in the most reckless fashion .

But he n ever dared say a word,”says Sain t Simon

,

for fear of her going quite mad 3 as it was, she wasmore than half crazed .

For the presen t,however

,she gave up her plea

sur es to search all the old chron icles she could hn dto prove from history that the n atural son s of kingswere as good as prin ces of the blood-royal ; and Madamede Staal tells u s how she found the Duchess half buriedunder a pile of huge folios

,like En celadus u nder

Etn a,

”and how laboriously she examin ed them with

the assistan ce of some distinguished an tiquaries. But,

as her friend observes, these savan ts probably kn ewmore about the customs of the Chaldean s than of theCour t of Versailles, and preceden ts taken from the famil yof Nimrod would scarcely apply to the family of LouisXIV.

But all the an tiquaries l n the world could not haveaverted the in evitable humiliation of Main e. His

en emy,Sain t Simon

,had been working n ight and day,

arranging the details of the Bed of. Justice where thesen ten ce of degradation was to be formally pron oun ced 3an d he tells u s of the rosy thoughts

,the sweet

and un alloyed delight of the prospect.”

At last the fatal day dawn ed,

so immeasurably and

1 96“

SAINT S IM ON.

When the Presid ent ofParliamen t had fin ishe d his remon ~

stran ce s, the Keepe r of the S e als asce n ded the steps to thethrone, and then , without asking further advice, return ed tohis place

,looke d at the Presiden t, and said , The king wi shes

to be obeyed, and to be obeyed at once .

’ This grand speech wasa thunder-stroke that con found e d the presiden ts and council lors in the most won derful way. They all bowed theirheads and it was long befor e the majority raised themagain .

But there was eVen a greater triumph to come . T he

second decree,which placed Main e at the bottom of

the list of d ukes,and deprived him of all his privileges

,

in cluding his office ‘

oi govern or to the king,was read “

and

registered,to the con stern ation of his friends.

The Chief Pre siden t, stunned by the last blow,made sucha surprisingly long face, that I thought his chin had fallenon his kn ees. Bu t al l the while I was myself dyi ng ofjoy . I was so oppressed that

-

I feared I should fain t ! myheart

,dilated to excess

,found no room to heat. The violence

I did myself in orde r to let n othing escape m e was infin ite 3

yet n eve rtheless this torment was delicious. I compare d theye ars and time of my servi tude, —those hateful days whe n ,dragged like a Victim at the whee ls of the Parliamen t, I had'

so many times adorn ed the triumph of the bastards- thosevarious degrees by which they had mounted to this heightabove our heads

,—I compare d them,

I s ay, to this court ofjustice and of arbitration— to this their frightful d isgrace,which

,at the same time

,raised us

,the peers, by the force of

the counter-shock. I thanked and congratulated myself that it was through ME that all this had been done. I

thought of the dazzling splendou r of such a revenge in theprese n ce of the king and so august an assemblage. I was

triumphan t,—I was aveng ing mysel f,—I swam in the delights

of veng e an ce . I enjoyed to the full the accomplishmen t ofthe most ard e n t and most continuous desires ofmy life.

THE C'

Z AR IN PARIS. 197

The. Duke of Main e bore his humiliation with hisusual cooln ess ; but the Duchess was furious when she

heard of it. All that is left me is the disgrace of having marrie d you

,

”she said bitterly to her husband 3 and

when ordered to give. up her rooms at the Tuileries,in

her passion she broke the windows,the chin a

,and every

thing she coul d lay her hands on . Then,to revenge

herself,she engaged in a foolish con spiracy with Spain

to depo se the Regen t. Her letters were in tercepted,

and both she and her husband, with many of theirfr iends

,wer e. arrested . and imprison ed for some mon ths,

un til Orlean s,with his careless good-nature, released and

for gave them all.Paris received an il lustrious Vi sitor in 1717 -the Czar,

Peter the Great. Sain t Simon,who stared at him for

an hour,without takin g his eyes off him

,

”was much

impressed by his commanding presen ce and unmistak

able air of greatn ess,

”although he n otices the curiousspasm that every n ow and then distorted his face and

gave him a wild and terrible look.

”Everything wasdon e by the It ege nt to en tertain hi s imperial guest.Splendid rooms were prepared for him at the Louvre

,

which,however

,the Czar found too splendid for comfort

there was a parade of the household troops ; a hun t atFon tain ebleau ; a Court ball, and a gran d opera, wherethe Czar scandalised the audien ce by call ing for beer,and drinking it in the royal box. He was impatien t ofState ceremon ies

,and liked n othing better than to wander

abou t Paris unattended,talk to the workmen employed

on the revolving bridge,taste the soldiers’ soup at the

Invalides,and drive from on e end of the town to the

other in a hackn ey - coach. If we may believe Sain t

198 SAINT S IM ON.

Simon,he showed himself a true Russian in his taste for

strong liquors . He drank a bottle or two of beer,and

the same quan tity of win e,at d inn er

,and a quart of

brandy afterwards,by way of liqueur.”His suite ate and

drank even more than their master 3 and the chaplain ,

like a worthy son of the Church, con sumed half asmuch again as the rest of the suite; In other respects

,

their filthy habits made them as unwelcome visitors inParis as afterwards at Evelyn ’

s house at Deptford.

After a Visit of six weeks, the Czar left Paris, greatlydelighted with all he had seen

,but much troubled in

mind by the e xcessive luxury of the Court, which heprophesied must

, soon er or later, bring ruin on the

200 SAINT S IMON.

capacity was ni l, it is clear that in this case, as in

other instan ces,he has fail ed to d istinguish between the

moral and in tellectual qualities of the en emy whom hethus mercilessly assails . The abilities of Dubois are asn otorious as his profiigacy. He had con siderable humour

,learn ing

,and kn owledge of men and books 3 a taste

for letters and scien ce 3 great powers of application 3 and

had shown s ingul ar firmn e ss and dexterity in his defeatof Ce llamare

s con spiracy,an d in the n egotiation s which

resulted in the Quadruple Allian ce. But this triumphof diplomacy was an additional crime in Sain t Simon ’

s

eyes. He was himself a Jacobite at heart,and it was

with bitter indignation that he saw the Regen t sacrifice the Stuart cause which Loul s XIV. woul d n evergive up, even - in his heavi est reverses

,whi le the uh

fortunate son of James II. had a price put upon hi s

head,and was forced to seek an asylum in Rome. 1

Sain t Simon fretted and fumed at this English allian ce.Both Dubois an d the Regen t

,he declared

,were “ too

much the humble servan ts of the house of Han over 3but he accounts for their apostasy from the trad ition alpolicy of Fran ce by the “Angloman ia”of the prin ce, andthe heavy annual pen sion paid by the English Cabin etto the Min ister.

“Every ecclesiastic,

says Sain t Simon,who on ce

succeeds in getting a footing in'

t he governmen t of his

coun try—however base his origin— makes it his soleobject in life to become a Cardinal, an d is ready tosacr ifice everything un reservedly to this e nd .

”'

Dubois

1 T he r e ar e two le tte rs pre se rve d among the manuscr ipts in theBritish Mu se um from Jacqu e s , Boy,

”to my cou sin

,the Duke of

Saint Simon ,”date d from Albano in 1721 .

DUBOIS . 20 1

soon began to moun t the steps of this ladder,and on e

morn ing he told the Regen t that he had just had “ apleasan t dream of being Archbishop of Cambray

,

”—these e being then vacan t. Even Orlean s was scandalisedat the proposal

,for

, putting aside the question of his

profligate life, Dubois was n ot even in holy orders .

“Make a scoundrel like you archbishop 1 Where willyou find an other scoundrel who will con secrate you !”Dubois assured him that there wou ld be no d ifficul tyin fact, the man was in the n ext room ! his own chaplain

,the Archbishop of Rheims

,woul d do all that was

n ecessary. The Regen t reluctan tly gave his con sen t,

and Dubois was ordain ed deacon an d priest at the sameservice, an d shortly afterwards he was actuall y con .

se crate d archbishop.

He showed n o false modesty on the occasion 3 and

when on e of his colleagues sn eered at the appoin tmen twith what Sain t Simon calls pathetic malign ity

,

Dubois ju stifi ed himself by the preceden t of Sain t Ambrose, who had been con secrated archbishop even beforehe was baptised. I was so horror-stricken at such profani ty,

”says Saint Simon , that I rushed to the door of

the room,that I might hear no more.”He implored

Orlean s,by all that was most sacred

,not to attend the

con secration ,as it would be a mockery to God and an

in sult to the Church ; and Orlean s faithfully promisedthat n othin g should induce him to be presen t. But thefirst thing Sain t Simon heard the n ext morn ing wasthat the Regen t had se t off in full state

,with his usual

escort,for the church where the con secration was to

take place. On e of his mistresses had persuaded himto change his mind even in that short in terval.

02 SA INT S IM ON.

On ce made archbishop,Dubois began to move heaven

and earth to obtain a card inal’s hat. He en treated,

promised,and bribed in all direction s

,even getting the

Pretender,as well as George I .

,to support his claims.

The Regen t,with his usual in consisten cy

,first declared

he would throw the little impuden t rascal in to thelowest dungeon if he should ven tur e even to think 0 1

such a thing,

”and the n ext day told Torcy to wr ite to

Rome in Dubois’s favour.Fortun ately for the Regen t’s candidate

,the n ew Pope

,

Inn ocen t XIII,happen ed to be a Fren chman (Con ti)

°

and in 172 1 , after expending an in credible sum in bribes,Dubois was at last made happy with the red hat ; but,as he complacently said

,what he valued far more than

the Roman purple was the emp r e ssemen t shown by all

the European sovereign s in procuring it for him.

If we may believe Sain t Simon , Dubois’

s n ew dign ityas a prin ce of the Church made not the least differen cein his mann ers or language.

On e morn ing he could n ot find something he wanted,and

began to rage and swear at his clerks, saying, that if therewere n ot enough of them

,he wou ld engage forty or fifty or

a hundred more, and making the most frightfu l n oise. His

secre tary,Verrier

,listen ed to him tranquilly, and the Car

d in al asked him if it was n ot a horrible thing to be so badlyused

,con sidering the expen se he had been put to ; and then

he fl ew into a fresh fit of passion,and in sisted upon Verrier’s

an swe ring him.

Mon seign eur,

’said Verrier

,take on e more clerk, and

let his only employmen t be to swear and storm for you, andal l will go wel l . You will have much more time for othermatters

,and you will be much better served .

T he Cardinal began to laugh, and was appeased .

204 SAINT . S IMON.

that the re cital. of it caused shouts of. laughter, which com

pl e te ly crushed the poor Conflan s , who made a solemn vowshe would n e ver again se t foot inside this madman ’

s house.

In 1721 , two marriages were arranged to cemen t theall ian ce between Fran ce and Spain . The young kingwas betrothed to the In fan ta (then of the mature ageof three) 3 and the Prin ce of the Asturias, the heir-apparen t of Spain ,

was to marry the Regen t’s daughter,

Mdlle. de Mon tpen sier. A special ambassador was tobe sen t on the occasion , to deman d formally the handof the Infan ta and to sign the marriage con tract ; andSain t Simon easily persuaded O rleans to nominate himfor this importan t mission . His only object! in .

going,

he is careful to add, was to secure the rank of Grandeefor his second son , and possibly the order of the GoldenFleece for the eldest. “ I so thought to do a goodstroke of busin ess for!my family, and to return homein great conten t.”

His j ourn ey,which took him about three weeks

,is

described with his usual humour and vivacity 3 and fromthe momen t he crossed the fron tiers he seems to havegot rid of his care an d discon ten t As I crossed thePyren ees

,he says, I left with Fran ce the ram and bad

weather,and foun d a pur e sky and a charming tempe r.

ature,with scen ery and views changing every moment

As he wen t ou, all seemed flowe rs and fruits.

” Foron ce in his life he found himself appreciated at what hecon sidered his proper value and it is with evidently

gratifie d van ity that he tells u s howhe was féted on

his progress from town to town 3 how he was re ceivedwith enthusiasm by the populace of Madrid

,and almost

stifle d with complimen ts”by the Spani sh grandees 3 how

SAINT SIMON IN SPAIN. (15

he wen t to C ou rt in a State carriage drawn by eighthor ses

,with twen ty five other coaches following his

own ; with what dign ity he advan ced up the long Hallof Mirrors 3 an d with what a stately grace Philip V. an

nounce d his satisfaction at the marr1age ,“u sing such a

marvell ously judicious choice of words and expression s,

that I thought I heard that grand master of ceremon ies,

the late kin g [Louis XIV ], himself addre ssmg me .

Madrid was illuminated,a State ball was given in

hon our of the occasion ,and Sain t Simon

,who seems to

have amused that solemn Court by his Vivacity and

sprightlin ess,received the royal command to dan ce.

He tell s us that,though he had n ot dan ced for thir ty

years and had a heavy coat on ,he bere himself bravely

in min uet and quadrille ; and that he was refreshed,

after his exertion s (like Mr Pepys) by a glass of excellen t n eat win e.”

Their Catholic Majesties “also commanded his attendan c ’e at a royal battue

,where the game in cluded almost

every four-footed creature,from wild-boars to polecats.

Sain t Simon ’

s own con tribution woul d scarcely havebeen a matter of congratul ation to a modern sportsman .

“ I shot a fox,

”he says complacen tly,

“ a li ttlebefore the proper time 3

”by which he xm e ans thatthe Crown -Prin ce

,who was in the same cache

,ought

to have had the chan ce of shootin g the fox first,

for at the battue,as everywhere else, royalty took pre

ce d en ce .

Then he Visited the Escurial,where he showed such

in satiable curi osity,and asked so many embarrassing

questions,that on e of the monks in charge completely

lost his temper.

206 SAINT S IMON.

And so we did the round of the mortuary chamber,talk

ing over an d d iscussing all w e saw. As we passed to thefurther e nd of the room,

the coffin of the unhappy Don Carlosme t our View.

“‘A s for him,

said I,

‘it is well kn own how and whyhe d ied .

At this spee ch the fat monk stammered, and main tained

that he had d ied from natural cause s,and began to declaim

against the stories which he said had been spread about hisdeath. I on ly smiled , and said I allowed it was n ot truethat he had died by having his vein s open ed . These wordscompleted the irritation of the monk

,who began to babble

in a sort of fury. At first I amused myse lf by listen ing insilen ce, and then I remarke d that the king , soon after hisarrival in Spain , had the curiosity to have the cohin of Don

Carlos open ed , and that I had been told by a man who was

present (it was Louville) , the prin ce’s he ad had be en found

between his legs"

,and that his father

,Philip had caused

him to be beheaded in prison in his own presen ce.Very well 1 cried the monk, in a furious passion 3 ap

pare ntly it'

was because Don Carlos had thoroughly deservedhis fate, for Philip II. had permission from the Pope to doit .

’And then he began to extol with al l his might the

marvellous piety and justice of Philip an d the boundlesspower of the Pope, and den oun ced the heresy of the man

who doubted that his Holin ess had n ot the power to ordain ,decide

,and d ispose of al l as he chose.

Such is the fanaticism of countries under the Inquisition,

where learn ing is a crime, and where ignoran ce and superstition are the cardinal Virtues.

~

Although my official character would have protected me

,I d id n ot choose to d ispute

or have a ridiculous scene with this p tfir e of a monk . I

contented myselfwith laughing,and making signs to those

who were with me to keep silen ce. So the monk said all heliked at his leisure

,and wen t 0 11 a long while W ithout being

able to check his passion . Pe rhaps he perceive d by our facesthat we were laughing at him,

though without W ords or

408 SAIN T S IM ON.

However, Cardinal Borgia, with the assistan ce of thechaplain s, at last succeeded in getting through the mar

riag e service 3 and when the ceremony was over,Sain t

Simon was made happy even beyond his utmost hopes .

Both he and his second son were raised to the rank of

Span ish grandees of the first class,an d his eldest son

(the Vida‘

me de Chartres) was invested with the GoldenFleece at a long and stately ceremon ial that delightedhis father’s h eart ; the king himself g i vmg the accolad ewith the sword of the founder and grand - captain of

the Order,Don G on zalo dve Cordova. Then followed

the usual marriage festivities,—banquets, illumination s,

torch—races,and naval combats ; and after a six mon ths’

visit,Sain t Simon left Madrid highl y d elighted both

with Spain and t he Span iard s,and especially pleased at

having so n obly “bran ched his family.

Soon after h is re turn to Versailles a violen t scen e ’

took

place between Cardin al Dubois and Marshal Villeroy,

the young king’s govern or. The Marshal was clearlythe aggressor in this quarrel. Ou some slight provocation he had stormed and threaten ed

,and made such an

uproar,that he was almost dragged out of the room by

Card inal Bissy, who was the on ly witn ess of thi s extraordinary in terview. Dubois himself rushed off at on ceto the Regen t’s cabin et

,and burst in to the room

,where

the prin ce was talking with Sain t Simon , like a whirlwin d

,with his eyes starting from his head

,and scarcely

able to articulate between rage an d fear. He put itplain ly to the Regen t that he must choose on ce for allbetween h imself and Villeroy, for , after what had passed ,they could not both remain at Versailles . Orlean s inthis case did not take long to make up his min d.

—He

DUBOIS PRIME MINISTER. 9

had been provoked more than on ce by the insolen t actsof Vill eroy, an d the very n ext morn ing the Marshal wasarrested, and after exhaling hi s anger, as Sain t Simoncalls it, in his own chateau, he was sen t in to hon ourableban ishmen t as govern or of Lyon s.

Then ceforward Dubois had n othing between himselfand the highest office in the State, and in little more thana week after the disappearan ce of Villeroy he was formallynamed Prime Min ister by the Regen t. This evil dayhad long been foreseen and dreaded by Sain t Simon . )

Soon er or later he had felt certain that Dubois wouldengross the supreme power

,and would be to the R e

gen t what the Mayors of the Palace had been to the“

r ots fhine’

an ts of earlier history ; and he had watchedOrleans drifting hopelessly an d helplessly to this in e v itable end . Orlean s had himself foreseen it

,had d readed

it like Saint Simon,and ye t, in his in curable feeble

n ess,

”could n ot or would n ot make the slightest effort tosave himself. On e morn ing he had been complain ingwith unusual bittern ess of the void he felt in his life

,

of his indifferen ce to the pleasures of win e and love, an dof his wearin ess of State affairs ; an d then Sain t Simonbroke the silen ce he had main tain ed for years as to theRegen t’s private life

,and made the last

,the strongest

,

and perhaps the most eloquen t of all his appeals to thefriend of his boyhood— urging him to dismiss his Tones

and his mistresses,to g iife up his n otorious suppers at the

Palais Royal,to do justice to his natural abilities

,and

above all,n ot to en slave himself to a Prime Min ister.

Orleans listen ed in silen ce and embarrassmen t.

Then he sat u p straight on his chair. Ah, wel l ! said

he,

‘I will go and plan t my cabbages at Villars-Cotterets .

F.C.

— X. O

210 SAIN T S IM ON.

The n he got up and began to walk about the room,and I

W ith him .

Finding himself n e ar the wall,at the corn er of his desk

whe re the re were two chairs (1 still se e where they werestanding) , he drew me by the arm towards on e of

'

them,

while he se t himse lf down upon the other, and then , turn ingcompletely round to face m e

, asked me sharply if I d id n o t

remember to have see n Dubois valet to Saint Lauren t,and

thinking himse lf then on ly too fortunate to be that ; andthen he enumerated al l the d ifferen t ste ps an d stage s of theCardinal’s fortunes up to that very mome n t

,and then he

exclaimed“ ‘And ye t he is n ot conten t. He perse cutes me to get

himself declared Prime Min ister ; and I am pe rfectly ce rtainthat

,e ven when he is that , still he will n ot be content 3 and

what the (lev il can he be after that !’“And then

,al l at on ce

,he an swe red his own qu estion

murmuring to himself—‘Se fatir e D i eu le Per e ,— if he can .

‘Oh, most I 3—‘i t is just the very thing

we may be quite certain he will do . It is for you, sir , who

know him so well,to se e i f you are well advised to make

yourself his footstool for him to step over your he ad .

Oh,I will take good care to stop his doing that

,

’ hean swered ; and then he began to walk about the room againafresh.

The n ext day this conversation was renewed on thesame subject— Sain t Simon being vehemen t and eloquen t,as usu al, again st the very idea of a Prime Min ister, andOrlean s listen ing gloomily and patien tly as before

A long sil e n ce followed my stron g protest. The Duke’

s

he ad , supporte d by his hands , had by deg ree s sunk almost

on his desk . He raise d it at last,look e d at me wi th a

sul len and desponding air, and then lowered his eyes, whichseemed to me full of shame

,and still remained some time

2 12 SAIN T S IMON.

his promotion on my shoulders . Possibly Sain t Simonthought that all was fair in war again st such an adve r

sary ; but his double-dealing and hypocrisy (to u se themildest terms for it) are strangely at varian ce with thefrank outspoken hon esty that he so often claims to bethe distin ctive mark of his character. But it may havebeen

,as M . Chernel su g gests, that he had himself un

con sciously deteriorated in the demoralising atmosphereof the Regen cy.

Cardinal Dubois, however, did not live long to enj oyeither his hon ours or his wealth

,computed at

a-year in our mon ey. In the followin g year (1723) h eunderwen t a pain ful operation

,and died mi serably after

it,—refusin g to receive the Sacramen t

,and gnashing his

teeth at his surgeon s,in the greatest rage and despair

at having to give up his life.”

What a mon ster of fortun e,Sain t Simon goes ou

,

and from what a low origin he sprang,an d how sud

d e n ly and fearfully he was cast down ! Truly to himmight be applied the words of the Psalmist ! I haveseen the wicked man exalted like the cedars of Leban onI passed by, and 10 1 he was gon e, and his place couldnowhere be found.

CHAPT ER XVI.

SAINT SIMON IN RETIREMENT.

SAINT SIMON took n o part in public affairs after thatstrange in terview with the Regen t described in thelast chapter. He felt that his day

,such as it was

,

had gon e by, —that the times were out of j oin t forhim.

‘ Many of his old frien ds were dead ; others wereestranged 3_he was slighted by the younger gen eration 3and '

as fe r Orlean s himself, repugnan ce, he tells u s, beganto bemingled with the pity he felt for this poor prin ce.The disorder that took place at

.

the con secration cf theking in 1722 was a sign to him of still worse things thatwere to follow. Rank and p recedence, he says

,were

utterly disregarded ; the n obil ity were excluded frcimtheir proper dign ities 3 the complete re -establishmen t ofthe bastards was eviden tly n ear at hand. And thu s

,

seeing n othin g but humiliation and ann oyan ce in whatwas passin g round him,

Sain t Simon goes back to thepast, and dwells at some length on the career of his

brother-ih -law,Lauzun

,whose life had been a succession

of marvellous adven tures . He dwells upon it,he says,

for a special reason

2 14 SA INT S IM ON.

Anothe r fee ling has prolong e d my recital. I am drawingn e ar a termI fe ar t o touch, be cause my de sire s can n ot be inharmony with the tru th ! they are arden t, and in con sequ en cebitte rly painful, be cause the othe r se n tim e n t is te rrible

,and

le ave s n ot the le ast room for any possible pal l iat ion . Thete rror of arriving at this te rm has stoppe d me short

,has

arre ste d my hand , has frozen my blood .

It wil l be seen at on ce that I am about to spe ak of thedeath

,and the mann er of the '

death,of the Duke of Orle ans ;

and afte r such a ten der and long attachme n t be twe e n u s

for it laste d al l his life, and wil l last al l my life — the terriblestory of his death has pie rced my he art with t e rror and

sorrow for him . It make s me shudder to my very marrowwith the horr0 1 of the thought that G od

,i n His anger

,

grante d his praye r that he might d ie sudd e nly .

The Regen t’s health had been hopelessly shattered bythe excesses of thirty years ; «and on e morn in g SaintSimon (who rarely saw him i n these latter days) washorr ifie d to se e the change that had come over h1m.

His face was flu she d almost purple , his air was dull andheavy

,and his utteran ce was so thick that he could

scarcely articulate. It was the beginn ing o f the e nd .

A few days afterwards , while Orlean s was talking toon e of his mistresses, he s udden ly fell backwards in an

apoplectic fit,and n ever recovered either his speech . or

con sciousn ess . Before Sain t Simon could reach Versail les the Regen t was dead , and with his death theseMemoirs come to an appropriate con clusion .

Sain t Simon both feared an d d istrusted the Dukeof Bourbon

,who n ow became Prime Min ister ; and of

Cardin al Fleury— the young king’s tutor—who su c~

ce ede d Bourbon ,he s peaks with all his accustomed

bittern ess. This prelate,”he tells u s

,con cealed

2 16 SAINT S IMON.

How busily he was occupied in these years of enforcedretiremen t is shown by the volumin ous manuscripts hehas left behin d him ; and it is clear that he sparedn either time nor labour in his historical researches, consu lting both me n and books

,and (as has been said )

ann otating Dang e au’

s Memoir s,in order to verify his

facts and dates . Among his coun tless portfolios of

essays and treatises there are two of especial in terest.On e is the “Pagne t d

’ 'ep agne ,

”on which M . Drumon t

is n ow at work 3 an d the other bears the whimsical titleof “Cendr es gne j

cn'

vues cl p luse'

e u rs d ep ute

which M . Basche t thinks may possibly turn out to bethe promised con tinuation of his Memoirs up to thedeath of

Cardinal Fleury.

Sain t Simon d ied at the age of eighty in his house atParis

,and was buried— as he had expressly desired— by

the side of his wife in the crypt of the parish churchof La Ferte Vidame. But in 1 794 a party of red Republicans tore the bodies from thei r coffin s

,and threw

them in to a common tren ch outsid e the churchyard ;an d thus, as it were by the irony of fate

,the

'

proud

Duke,who in hi s lifetime had regarded even the bour

g eois as ben eath his n otice,was d estin ed after his death

to share a grave Wi th the vilest of the vile.

END OF SAINT SIMON.