YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

Moliere Collection
Gift of
Walter L. Pforzheimer
Yale 1935, 1938L

MINIATURE PORTRAITS

TRANSLATED BY HAMISH MILES
FROM THE HISTORIETTES OF
TALLEMANT DES r£aTJX
l6l9 - 1692

MINIATURE PORTRAITS BY
GfiDfiON TALLEMANT
SIEVR DES RfiAVX

NEW YORK:
BRENTANO'S PUBLISHERS

Manufactured in
Great Britain

The initial letters employed at the opening of chapters
were designed by Robert Estienne (I)
1 499- 1 550, Imprimeur du Rot

INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The present selection from the Historiettes of Tallemant des Reaux is frankly
designed for those persons who may be pleased to accept Doctor Johnson's appellation
of " the common reader."
The twenty-odd miniature biographies here presented have been chosen rather
to give entertainment to this common reader (we call him usually the " general "
reader nowadays) than to provide material for historical meditations or study.
The methodical student of the politics and morals of France in the seventeenth
century will turn, of course, to the ampler spaces of the original, embellished with
the magnificent critical apparatus of Monmerque'. There he will find that the
full catalogue of Tallemant's portrait-gallery contains the names of nearly five
hundred sitters, and that in his review of his age no fewer than six thousand different
personages are mentioned, with greater or less detail. These examples, however,
may please the taste, and stimulate the curiosity, of many whom the nine substantial
volumes of the complete Historiettes might at first sight appal.
Most general readers are familiar enough with the outlines of French history
during the period which Tallemant des Reaux covers ; it is the France of
Henry of Navarre, Marie de' Medici, Louis XIII, Richelieu, Cinq-Mars, and the
salon of Madame de Rambouillet. A few bare notes at the end of this volume
will serve them as reminders, with dates (which our present biographer seldom
mentions), of the principal characters of the time. But a few words ought first to
be said of Tallemant himself, and of his place among the great French memoir-
writers — for to them he certainly belongs.
Gedeon Tallemant was born at La Rochelle in 1619. His birthplace is
significant, for he came of a Protestant family who had left their ancestral home in
Tournai under persecution nearly sixty years earlier. The Tallemants were pros
perous and well-established bourgeois, a family resting on a sound basis of banking,
commerce, and landed property acquired with the succeeding years. Pierre
Tallemant, the biographer's father, opened a bank of some importance at Bordeaux
about 1623, and eleven years later took up his residence for good in Paris itself.
And for Gedeon, Paris was the natural habitat. He had a passion for society
diversions, verse-making, the amenities of his century in general. There was a
tour, according to custom, in Italy in 1638 (whereof he tells in his Historiette of
the Cardinal de Retz), but once returned to Paris, Gedeon plunged fully into the
life that there lay before him. He read for the law, but was more diligent in the
practice of the social accomplishments ; with verses and letters of gallantry he was
prodigal ; and it ended in his preferring marriage with a charming cousin, who had
a handsome dowry, to the harassing demands of the legal career which his father
sought to force on him. This marriage with Elizabeth de Rambouillet took place
in 1646, the bride being fifteen years of age. V

ivtrnprvucroiir o^pre
Despite his constant social activities, his entertaining, his collecting of books
and furniture and so forth, Gedeon found time, and had the wit, to improve his
finances and his status, for in 165 1 he carried out successful negotiations for
certain fine landed properties in Touraine and Anjou, and before long he was
entitled by letters royal to style himself Sieur des Reaux. This was all to the good.
With a sound social standing, he could certainly pursue his life in Paris with more
freedom and more opportunities. And the great period of his life begins when
he becomes a favoured guest at the H6tel de Rambouillet itself. After this he
seems to come into touch, sooner or later, with almost every side of Parisian society.
M. Magne, the supreme authority on Tallemant, as indeed on much else of this
period, has summarised the extent of his relations in these words : —
" From a tender age he had been the intimate friend of Conrart, as indeed
of all the more noteworthy among the Protestants, and particularly of the
Rohans. Through the advocate Patru he could have light upon the world of
the Palace of Justice, and through d'Ablancourt on that of the pedants, where
d'Aubignac, Menage, Costar were shining. The Academy, into which his
brother Francois and his cousin Paul had entered, had no secrets for him.
Through Bois-Robert, whom he knew particularly well, he could assemble
valuable information concerning Cardinal Richelieu, his kinsmen and his
familiars. At the house of Mme. de Gondran he met the SeVignes, and at
that of his brother-in-law, Antoine de la Sabliere, he met La Fontaine. The
actor Mondory, who was received at Madame de Rambouillet's, enabled him
to penetrate the motley company of the players. . . . Ninon de l'Enclos,
after 1680, admitted him to her philosophising circle, and he was the confidant
of her meditations on the existence of God. Indeed, his own family itself,
extremely numerous, and allied with all the finance of the epoch, holding
important offices in the Royal household or in the Parliament, opened to him
the houses ofthe great bourgeois families, generally closed to the merely curious.
It can be said that there was nobody of any worth, living in the first half of the
sixteenth century, who remained unknown to him."
So it is small wonder that Tallemant's portraits of his time should be so
numerous or so interesting. He was drawing near to forty years of age when he
began to write them. And he must have written with something of the self-
contained energy of Pepys himself, for he cannot have hoped to publish such studies
while he still lived. But he made no secret of his activity, and the world was
not slow to carry its tales and gossip round to him. His manuscript books are
heavily amplified and elaborated, the strata of information accumulating with the
years. He worked simultaneously, as he mentions repeatedly in the Historiettes,
on a history ofthe Regency of Anne of Austria. But this work, if it was ever com
pleted, has not survived.
The Historiettes survived in manuscript, but were not printed until 1833.
vi

i^CjXODuc^oi^r ^cpre
Their appearance was the signal for a furious storm in learned circles, for the seven
teenth century, as presented by such historians as Victor Cousin, had gathered to
itself the legend of an ideal and heroic age, and all its most representative characters
were sacrosanct. In breaks Tallemant ! Kings are shown in alarming undress,
Queens hardly less so, Cardinals become men, and the great courtesans turn rather
plain. . . . Small wonder that the cry of "An imposture ! "was raised, and Cousin
himself, over thirty years later, went to his grave still convinced, it has been said,
that the world had been hoodwinked.
But to return to Tallemant : he had to face a costly law-suit in 1681, respecting
certain rights in an edition which he had prepared of the works of Voiture. In
this he was unsuccessful. But other misfortunes darkened his later years. His
family was involved in a serious financial disaster, and he himself was brought face
to face with the religious troubles of the time. The Protestantism of most of the
Tallemants did not withstand the double pressure of social exigencies and the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes : his own wife had been one of the first to turn
to the Cathohc faith, in 1665. He himself wavered a long time — although his
convictions seem to have been hereditary rather than heartfelt — and yielded finally
to the arguments ofthe Jesuit Father Rapin in 1685. But his daughter Charlotte
refused apostasy, and had to flee to England ; and others of the family were also
exiled or imprisoned. Lonely and somewhat saddened, but still active in mind,
he died in Paris on November 10th, 1692. Hamish Miles.

CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTORY NOTE v
HENRT IF. i
THE DUC DE SULLY . 10
LOUIS XIII . . 16
M. D'ORLEANS (GASTON) 28
FATHER JOSEPH AND THE NUNS OF LOUDUN 34
SAUVAGE 37
MADAME DE RAMBOUILLET 38
MADAME DE MONTAUSIER AND HER DAUGHTER 50
MADAME DE MONTBAZON . 54
MONSIEUR DE MONTBAZON. 58
THE CARDINAL RICHELIEU . 60
MADEMOISELLE DE GOURNAY 101
MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE 106
CARDINAL DE RETZ . . 115
LA FONTAINE ... 123
THE PRESIDENT AND BLAISE PASCAL 125
THE CHEVALIER DE ROQUELAURE 128
MARION DE L'ORME . 131
THE SPIRIT OF MONTMARTRE 134
MADEMOISELLE PAULET 136
FATHER ANDRE . . 140
DANIEL DU MOUSTIER 147
MARGUERITE DE VALOIS 150
NINON DE L'ENCLOS . 153
BOIS-ROBERT . 161
NOTES . . 179
BOOKS TO CONSULT 183

ix

MINIATURE PORTRAITS

THE AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION
1657
I call this colleftion Historiettes, because it is made up of short
memoirs only, with nothing to link one with the others. In a
fashion, I observe the sequence of time, not to make a confusion.
My design is to write down all that I have learnt, and shall learn,
that is pleasing and worthy of note, and I propose to say both good
and ill without hiding the truth, and without using what is to be
found in Histories and Memoirs already printed. This I do
the more freely since I know well that they are not matters to be
put into the light, although perhaps they may none the less be
useful. I give this to my friends who have been asking it of me
for a long while.
For the rest, I shall often relegate matter to the Memoirs
which I propose to compile of the regency of Anne of Austria,
or, more accurately, of the administration of Cardinal Mazarin,
which I shall continue so long as his rule lasts, if I find myself
able to do so. These relegations will be to avoid repeating the
same matter; for instance, where M. de Chamot, who became
the Due de Rohan, enters into negotiations with the Court,
I cannot continue further his Historiette, as from that point the
story is that of the siege of Paris.
Such is my design. I shall start with Henry the Great and
his Court, in order to begin with something illustrious.

XM

N.B. — Footnotes marked [T.] are those of Tallemant ;
the others are those ofthe translator.

HENRY IV

F this prince had been born King
of France, and peaceable to boot,
he would probably have cut no
great figure. He would have
drowned himself in the delights
of the flesh, for never did he
cease, in spite of all obstacles, to
abandon the most pressing business
in the pursuit of his pleasures.
After the battle of Coutras, instead
of following up his advantage, off"
he went to sport with the Comtesse
de Guiche, taking to her the
standards he had captured. During the siege of Amiens,
again, he ran off after Madame de Beaufort, without troubling
his head about the cardinal of Austria, later the Archduke
Albert, who was advancing to attempt a relief of the fortress.
He was not too liberal, nor particularly grateful. He never
had a word of praise for others, and used to boast about himself
like a Gascon. But to make up for that, no prince was ever
known more humane, none who better loved his people; in
nowise did he omit to watch over the good of the realm. And
in several encounters he showed that he had a lively wit and
that he could understand a joke.
But, to go back to his love-affairs: if Sebastien Zamet, as
some have claimed, administered poison to Madame de Beaufort,
he was assuredly doing a great service to Henry IV, for this
worthy prince was on the point of taking the most foolhardy
step that could possibly be taken. Yet he had made up his mind
to it. The late Monsieur le Prince was to have been declared
a bastard. The Comte de Soissons made himself cardinal, and
was given three hundred thousand crowns income in benefices.
The Prince de Conti was then married to a lady too old to bear
children. The Marshal de Biron was to marry the daughter of
Madame d'Estrees, who has since become Madame de Sanzay.
M. d'Estrees had to acknowledge her; she was born in wed-
I a

tMioxitAruite tot^tt^its
lock; but for five or six years M. d'Estrees had not lain with
his wife, who had gone away with the Marquis d'Allegre;
indeed she was killed with him at Issoire, by the inhabitants,
who rebelled and sided with the League. The marquis and
his lover stood firm for the King; they were both stabbed and
thrown from the window.
This Madame d'Estrdes was sprung from the La Bour
daisiere family, a stock more prolific in gallant ladies than any
that ever was in France. (It is said that a certain Mme de la
Bourdaisiere boasted of having lain with Pope Clement VII,
and, at Nice, with the Emperor Charles V when he came into
France, and with Francis I.) As many as twenty-five or twenty-
six can be counted, either nuns or married women, who have all
loved in high places. Whence comes the saying, that the
arms of La Bourdaisiere are a handful of vetches, for it happens
by an amusing chance that in their arms is a hand sowing
vetches.1 Here is the story I have heard from people who knew it for
true, or believed it to be so. A certain widow at Bourges, the
first wife of an attorney or a notary, bought a wretched doublet
at the old clothes market. In the skirt of it she found a paper
on which was written: " In the cellar of such-and-such a house,
six feet beneath the surface, at such-and-such a spot (which was
clearly designated), there is so much gold in some vessels,
etc." The sum was a very great one for the time (this was quite
a century and a half ago). This widow, remarking that the
lieutenant-general of the town was a widower and childless, told
him of the matter, without pointing out the particular house,
and offered to tell him the secret on condition that he married
her. He consented; the treasure was discovered; he kept his
word and married her. His name was Babon. He purchased
La Bourdaisiere. He was, I think, the grandfather of the
Marshal d'Estrees' mother.
Madame d'Estrees had six daughters and two sons, of whom
one is the Marshal d'Estrees, who is still alive to-day. These
six daughters were — Mme de Beaufort, of whom Mme de
Sourdis, also of La Bourdaisiere, took charge, Mme de Villars,
of whom more anon, Mme de Namps, the Comtesse de Sanzay,
the Abbess de Maubuisson, and Mme de Balagny. It was by
the last-named that the late M. d'Epernon had as daughter
the Abbess of Ste Glassine de Metz. The six of them, with their
brother, used to be called the Seven Deadly Sins. Madame
de Neufvic, a lady of wit, and very intimate with Mme
2

Heagir IV
de Bar, composed this epigram on the death of Mme de
Beaufort: J'ai vu passer par ma fenStre,
Les six peches mortels vivants,
Conduits par le bastard d'un prStre,
Qui tout ensemble allaient chantant
Un requiescat in pace
Pour le septiime trepasse.
Henry IV, it is asserted, was not alone in her favours, and
it was for that reason that he did not give M. de Vendome
the name of Alexander, from a fear lest he might be called
Alexander the Great, for M. de Bellegarde was spoken of as
" the Great," and apparently he had passed that way the first.
Ten times the King gave orders for him to be killed, and then
repented of it when he reflected that he had taken her from
M. de Bellegarde; for Henry, seeing him and Mile d'Estrees
dancing together, said: " They must be the servant and the
mistress." One day M. de Praslin, captain of the bodyguard,
later Marshal of France since, the Regency, in order to prevent
the King from marrying Mme de Beaufort, offered him to let
him surprise Bellegarde abed with her. In faft, he had the King
roused one night at Fontainebleau, but when he had to enter
the Duchess' chamber, the King said: " Ah! that would offend
her too much ! " The Marshal de Praslin told this to a gentleman
from whom I have it.
The mistresses of Henry IV made up a wonderful number in
all. But he was, as the phrase went, " no great tree-feller."
Also, he was for ever being cuckolded. They would say, in
jest over this, that the King's second had been slain. Mme de
Verneuil called him once " Captain Will-for-deed." And
another time (for she used to scold him cruelly) she told him
that he was lucky to be King, that except for that he would be
insufferable, and that he stank like carrion. . . .
Nobody, I think, approved the conduct of Henry IV with
the late Queen-Mother on the score of his mistresses; for
Mme de Verneuil was lodged at the Hotel de la Force, so near
the Louvre, and he allowed the court to be to some extent
divided for her; and in that there was certainly neither policy
nor seemliness. This Mme de Verneuil was a daughter of
that M. d'Entragues who married Marie Touchet, daughter of
a baker at Orleans, who had been a mistress of Charles IX.
She was a woman of spirit, but proud, and had but little respect
3

Mioii<A<ru?{e 7>07&%Jicrs
either for the Queen or for the King. In speaking to him of
the Queen, she would refer to her sometimes as " your stout
banker," and when the King asked her once what she would
have done if she had been at the quay of Neuilly when the Queen
sought to drown herself there, she told him, " I would have
cried ' Her Majesty drinks! ' "
At last the King broke with Mme de Verneuil. She flung
herself into a life worthy of Sardanapalus or Vitellius, thinking
of nothing but victuals and stews, and wanting to have her stew-
pot in her chamber. She grew so fat as to be monstrous; but
she always kept her liveliness. Few people visited her. Her
children were taken from her; her daughter was reared along
with the King's lawful daughters.
The late Queen-Mother, for her part, was not very happy
in her life with the King. She nagged at him on every occasion.
One day when he was whipping M. the Dauphin, she said to
him, " Ah! you wouldn't treat your bastards like that! " " As
for my bastards," he answered, " the Dauphin can thrash them
if they play the fool, but he'll have nobody to thrash him."
I have heard it said that he himself thrashed the Dauphin
twice: the first time, for having harboured so great a hatred
for a certain gentleman that, to satisfy himself, he must needs
fire a blank charge from a pistol at this gentleman, to make
pretence of killing him; and the second, on seeing a sparrow's
head that had been crushed. And it was said that, when the
Queen-Mother scolded him, the King replied, " Madame, pray
to God that my life is spared; for he will ill-treat you if I am no
longer here."
There are some who have suspefted the Queen-Mother of
being concerned in his death, and that for this reason the deposi
tion of Ravaillac has never been brought to light. It is quite
certain that, one day when Concini, later the Marshal d'Ancre,
came to greet him at Marceau, the King said: " If I were dead,
that man would be the ruin of my kingdom."
Those who have wanted to know the inmost history of the
death of Henry IV, declare that the interrogation of Ravaillac
was made by the president Jeannin, as a councillor of state (he
had been president of the parliament of Grenoble), and that the
Queen-Mother had selected him as her own man. And it was
said that the Comant woman (who asserted the implication of the
Due d'Epernon and the Marquise de Verneuil in the King's
murder) stuck to her story to the end.
All that has been given out of Ravaillac's declaration is
4

that, seeing that the King was about to undertake a great war,
and that his realm would suffer for it, he had thought to do his
country a great service, by ridding it of a prince who did not
desire to keep it at peace and was not a good Catholic. This
Ravaillac had a red beard, and hair with just a streak of gold in it.
He was an idle kind of fellow, noticeable only because he dressed
in a Flemish rather than a French style. He always dangled
a sword behind him, and was of a melancholy turn, but quite
agreeable in converse.
Henry IV had a quick wit, and he was humane, as I have
said. I shall set down a few instances.
At La Rochelle, a rumour spread among the populace
that a certain chandler possessed some mandragora, for magical
ends; well, this is a common accusation against those who are
doing well in their business. The King, at that time only King
of Navarre, sent someone at midnight to the man's house to ask
to buy a candle. The chandler duly got out of bed and supplied
him with one. "There!" said the King next day, "there's
your mandragora ! This fellow loses no chance of making a deal,
and that's the way to grow rich ! "
Once a gentleman-in-waiting, instead of drinking the trial
draught which is put in the cover of the King's glass, absent-
mindedly drank what was in the glass itself. The King merely
said to him: " So-and-so, you might at least have drunk to my
health: I should have pledged you in return."
He was informed that the late M. de Guise was in love with
Mme de Verneuil, but he was in no way concerned, and said:
" They must be left bread and wenches: so much else has been
taken from them! "
When he came to bestow the chain of office on M. de La
Vieuville, father ofthe one whom we have twice seen as head ofthe
treasury, La Vieuville said to him, as it is usual to do: " Domine,
non sum dignus." " I know quite well," said the King, " I know
quite well; but my nephew asked it of me." This nephew
was M. de Nevers, later Duke of Mantua, to whom La Vieuville,
a plain gentleman, had been chief steward. La Vieuville told
the story himself, from fear perhaps that someone else might,
for he was no fool, and had some reputation for his witty sayings.
They say that La Vieuville, having joked at some brave fellow
of the court, was waited on with a challenge from the latter,
and that the bearer of the summons added that it would be for
six o'clock the next morning. "At six o'clock?" answered
La Vieuville. " I don't rise so early in the morning for my own
5

business; I should be a pretty fool to do so for that of your
friend." The bearer could get nothing more out of him.
Whereupon La Vieuville went off to be the first to tell the story
at the Louvre; and, because the laughers sided with him, the
other was held up to ridicule.
On the occasion of certain taxes being levied from the
bankers: " Ah! " he said, " those who are mulcted will help me
no more! "
He used to banquet with M. de Bellegarde, the Marshal de
Roquelaure, and others, at the house of Zamet, and elsewhere.
(Zamet, asked by a notary for his rank and title, said: "Put
down Lord Eighteen-hundred-thousand Crowns.") When it
came to the marshal, he said to the King that he did not know
where to entertain them, except at the " Three Moors." The
King went there. The other two took one page between them,
and the King one for himself only. " For," said he, " a page
from my chamber will be willing to serve only myself." This
page was M. de Racan, from whom we have such fine poems.
One day he went to the house of the Princess de Conde,
widow of the deformed Prince de Conde. There he found a
lute, on the back of which were these two lines :
Absent de ma diviniti,
Je ne vols rien qui me contente.
He added these : C est fort mal connaitre ma tante,
Elle aime trop rhumanite.
The good lady had been very gallant. She was from
Longueville. One night, before the entry into Paris, he was sleeping very
ill, and could not make resolve to yield his religion. Crillon
said to him: " In Heaven's name, sire, you must be jesting, to
make difficulties over accepting a faith which gives you a crown."
Crillon, none the less, was a good Christian, for praying one day
before a crucifix, he suddenly began crying out: " O Lord!
Had / been there, they would never have crucified Thee! "
Nay, I think he even took his sword in his hand, like Clovis
and his nobles at the sermon of Saint Remigius. This same
Crillon, when he was being shown how to dance, was told, " Now
stoop — now step back." " I'll have none of it," he cried.
" A Crillon never stooped, and never stepped back! " When
6

hsj^t iv
he was an officer of the regiment of guards, he refused to slay
M. de Guise. The younger M. de Guise, being governor of
Provence, had the idea of having a false alarm raised, and came
to him, saying: " The enemy have retaken the town! " But
Crillon did not ruffle a hair. " Forward," he said. " We
must die like men of mettle! " Afterwards, M. de Guise con
fessed that he had played this trick to see if it were true that
"Crillon never knew fear. Crillon replied firmly to him : " Young
man, if I had chanced to show the slightest weakness, I should
have stabbed you dead."
When M. du Perron, at that time Bishop of Evreux, was
instructing the King, he wished to speak to him concerning
Purgatory. " Leave that alone," said the King. " That is
bread for monks."
And this reminds me of a certain physician of M. de Crequy,
who, being at the embassy of his master in Rome, was asked by
someone at the Vatican where the Pope's kitchen might be.
" 'Tis Purgatory," said he, laughing. They wished to bring
him before the Inquisition, but did not dare when they knew
whose servant he was.
Harlequin and his troupe came to Paris about that same
time and went to visit the King. Harlequin was a very lively
fellow, and took his own time about things, so that when His
Majesty rose from his chair, he slipped into it and addressed
the King as if the latter had been Harlequin. " Well, Harle
quin," he said to Henry, " you have come hither with your troupe
for my diversion. I am very glad of it, and I give you my word
for my protection and for a pension of such-and-such." The
King did not dare to disavow these words. " Hold on! " he
answered, "you have been adting my part long enough: let
me play it for myself now! "
This reminds me of a story from England. My Lord
Montagu was dissatisfied with his treatment by King James,
and one day when a Scottish gentleman, whom the King had
several times avoided, came to ask a reward of him, he said to
James: " Sire, you cannot escape again. This man does not
know you at all ; I am of your build ; so I shall feign to be his
sovereign. Do you stand behind me." The Scotsman delivered
his speech, and Montagu made answer: "You must not be
surprised that I have not yet done anything for you. Here is
Montagu, who has rendered me so many services: but I have
done nothing for him! " King James caught the joke, and said:
" Get you away from there! You have played long enough! "
7

Henry IV recognised that to destroy Paris would, as the
phrase goes, be cutting off his nose to spite his face. Wherein
he was wiser than his predecessor, who used to say that Pans
had a swollen head, and that it had best be smashed in. Never
theless, Henry IV wished, in case of need, to have a means of
quitting Paris without being seen, and to this end he had the
gallery of the Louvre built, which is no part of the design of the
edifice; thereby he might reach the Tuileries, which have only
been within the circle of the walls for the past twenty or twenty-
five years. At that time M. de Nevers was having the Hotel
de Nevers constructed. This the King held to be rather too
magnificent to be just over against the Louvre, and talking one
day with M. de Nevers, he pointed to his buildings. " Well,
nephew," he said, " when your house is finished, I shall come to
live with you." This remark of the King's, and also, perhaps, a
scarcity of money, stopped the work short.
One day he discovered numerous grey hairs in his head. " In
truth," he said, " it must be the speeches delivered to me since
my accession that have made me turn white like this."
Seeing his sister, later Mme de Bar, in an abstracted mood,
he said to her: " Well, sister, what are you turning over in your
head that makes you sad ? We have every reason to praise God :
our affairs are surely as prosperous as they could be." " Yes,"
she answered, " according to your count — but not by mine." 2
Once she had a ballet performed wherein the figures of the
dance formed the letters of the King's name. " Well, sire,"
she said to him afterwards, " did you notice how these figures
made up all the letters of Your Majesty's name?" "Ah,
sister," said he, " either you don't write very clearly, or else we
do not read very well: no one noticed what you tell me! "
Talking of the Comte de Soissons, I have heard it said that
when he was escaping from Nantes, led by a laundryman whose
boy he pretended to be, he was on the point of knocking into
M. de Mercceur, who happened to be passing in the street
(for he was always a bad walker). But the laundryman gave
him a sharp cuff, saying: " Mind what you're doing, you clumsy
lout! "
The day that Henry IV entered Paris, he went to see his
aunt, Mme de Montpensier, and asked her for some preserves.
" I think," said she, " you are doing that to mock me. You
imagine we have none left." " No," he answered, " the faft
is, I'm hungry." She had a jar of apricots brought, and taking
some she was going to make trial of them. But he stopped her,

HSD^T IV
saying: " Aunt, you do not think  " " What ? " she replied,
" have I not done enough to be suspect to you? " " You are
in no way suspect, aunt." " Ah," she answered, " one must be
your servant." And, as it turned out, she afterwards did serve
him with great affection.
Brave as he was, it is said that whenever they came to tell
him, " Here are the enemy," he was always seized with a kind
of diarrhoea. But he used to turn it to a joke, and say: " I
must off and do 'em good! " He was a born thief; he could not
prevent himself from taking things that he came across, but he
would restore them. He said that if he had not been King, he
would have been hanged.
As for his person, he had not a very commanding air. Mme
de Simier, who was accustomed to seeing Henry III, said,
when she saw Henry IV, " I have seen the King, but not his
majesty." At Fontainebleau there is a notable memorial of the kind-
heartedness of this prince. In one of the gardens there can be
seen a house, which projects into it and makes a bend. The
truth is that a private person was never willing to sell it to the
King, although he would have paid much more than it was worth.
But the King refused to do him wrong.
When he saw a broken-down house, he used to say: " This
must either belong to me, or the Church! "
1 Vesce, vetch, was at the time used for a woman of hght virtue.
* A play on the word count. Madame's hand had been sought in marriage
by the Comte de Soissons, but Henry always declined to sanction the match.

THE DUC DE SULLY1

T has been said, and there is
support for it, that he came of a
Scottish family named Bethune,
and not of the house of the counts
of Bethune in Flanders. There
was a Scottish archbishop of Glas
gow whom he regarded as a kins
man. He was going to offer
himself to the Guises against the
Comte de Soissons, seeing himself
an ally of the house of Guise
through that of Coucy, sprung, he
said, from the ancient house of
Austria, as if he deemed it a dishonour to be kinsman of the
Emperor and the King of Spain. But King Henry III sent
him word by M. du Maurier, the Huguenot, later ambassador
in Holland, that he would be humiliating him ; that he
would make him see that the house of Guise would be none the
better for having his support; that, having been raised up by
him from nothing, he was showing black ingratitude, to go and
offer himself against a prince ofthe blood to those who had sought
to take his benefaftor's crown and life. M. du Maurier did not
say half of what the King had charged him to say; yet my man
was so downcast that he was pitiable, for, even as he was insolent
in prosperity, so in adversity he was cowardly and feeble-hearted.
He boasted of having caused the governance of Provence to
be given to the late M. de Guise, and M. the Chancellor de
Chiverny protected against that. He blames M. d'O, who
nevertheless had clean hands and, instead of growing rich in his
office as treasurer-general, lived therein on his own wealth.
He passes over M. de Sancy, as if he had not been in charge
of the exchequer at all. M. de Sancy was dismissed in the
following circumstances: at the siege of Amiens, when asked
by the King for advice as to his marriage with Mme de Beaufort,
he said, in presence of M. de Montpensier, that " wench against
wench, he would prefer the daughter of Henry II to that of Mme
d'Estrees, who died in a brothel." Also, he said to Mme de
10

?H£ <DUC TiB SULLT
Beaufort herself, who was telling of a gentleman, a neighbour
of hers, who had put his children under the stove on marrying
the lady by whom he had had them, that " that was very well
for an inheritance of five or six thousand livres income, but that
for a kingdom she would never get to the end of it, and that a
bastard would always be a whoreson." A somewhat rude
speech, in truth; but the King ought to have remembered
that M. de Sancy was a man of mettle and had rendered him great
services. He had, indeed, hired at his own expense the Swiss troops
whom he brought in great numbers to Henry IV. He died
poor, with a proteftion against creditors in his pocket. More
than once it was his lot to be arrested by the bailiffs ; he allowed
them to take him right to the prison gates, and then would
show them his protection, and make game of them.
He had a son who was a page-in-waiting on Henry IV.
Tired of bearing the torch on foot, he found means to have a nag,
but the King got to know and had him whipped. He used
always to swear par la mort ! So he was called Palamort. A
pleasing enough man. Once he came upon Mme de Guemenee
on the Orleans road, on her way to Paris. He was tired of being
on horseback, for it was wretched weather, so he said to her:
" Madame, there are robbers about in the valley of Torfou; I
offer myself as escort." " My thanks to you," she answered.
" Ah, madame," said he, " it will never be said that I abandoned
you in necessity." And as he said it he lowered the step and, not
heeding what she said, installed himself in her coach. One day
at Rome, when M. de Brissac was ambassador there, his lady
was expected to go to see the vine of the Medici; Palamort
placed himself quite naked in a niche where there was no statue,
in a gallery there which is full of them. This man became a
Father of the Oratory; Father Palamort, they called him. In
his chamber he had none but knightly saints, such as St Maurice,
St Martin, and others.
M. de Sancy's other son, who was an ambassador in Turkey,
also became an Oratorian.
Mme de Beaufort was impatient to have M. de Rosny put
in the place of M. de Sancy. He had paid court to her, long
ago. His first employment was the control of passports at the
siege of Amiens, and then he was despatched to collect all the tax
payments due from the colle&ors, which he did with great strict
ness. This quality he used in all his dealings. As he was rather
ignorant of finance, he took with him a certain Angel Cappel,
1 1

Mi3ii<j<rune toi^'i^its
seigneur of Luat, a kind of madman of letters, who long after,
to flatter M. de Sully, caused to be printed a little book entitled
The Confidant, which greatly enraged M. de Lesdiguieres.
Du Luat was put into prison for it, and when they sought to
question him and said, " Will you promise to speak the truth? "
he answered, " I shall be mighty careful not to: here I am, in
trouble for doing just that! " He gave very harmful counsels,
and used to say, amongst other follies, that what France needed
for her restoration was just an almond cream.2 He caused to be
printed a book of his sage opinions, in the frontispiece of which
he was depicted as an Angel, with wings and a bearded chin,
and some verses which said that there was nothing human about
him save his beard.
M. d'Incarville, controller-general of finance, was no thief,
as M. de Sully avers. He was an honourable man and a man
of wealth. The quarrel with Mme de Beaufort when she was
about to become queen scarcely accords with what M. de Sully
tells of the journey from Clermont, when he thrashed the coach
man by his command; she would have had him sent packing very
quickly. Here is what happened on the illness of Mme de Beaufort.
She sent off Puypeiroux posthaste to the King to tell him the
news, and beg him to approve that she should embark to come
and join him at Fontainebleau. She hoped that that would make
him come immediately, and that, for the sake of her children,
he would marry her before she died. And indeed, as soon as
Puypeiroux arrived, the King sent him off again to go and have
the ferry at the Tuileries held in readiness, by which he wanted
to pass over without being seen. Then, all impatient, he
mounted his horse and rode at such speed that he overtook
Puypeiroux, whom he upbraided terribly. Near Juvisy the
King came upon the Chancellor, M. de Bellievre, who acquainted
him with the death of the Duchess. None the less the King
was eager to go on to Paris to see her in death, had not the
Chancellor represented to him that it was an adtion unaccording
with a King's dignity. He allowed these reasonings to persuade
him, and turned back to Fontainebleau.

When the King made M. de Sully the head of his treasury,
the latter, in his grand way, drew up an inventory of his wealth,
12

THE T>UC T>e SULLY
which he gave to His Majesty, vowing that he wished to live solely
on his salary and to profit from the saving of his own income,
which was derived at that time only from his property of Rosny.
But immediately he set about making extensive acquisitions,
and every one laughed at his noble inventory. The King
showed clearly enough what he thought of him, for when M. de
Sully stumbled one day in the courtyard of the Louvre, wishing
to salute the King, who was on a balcony, His Majesty remarked
to the bystanders that they need not be astonished, and that " if
the stoutest fellow of his Swiss guards had taken as much meed
as that gentleman, he'd have tumbled headlong! "

Never was there a more forbidding head of the treasury.
One afternoon he was waited upon at the Arsenal by five or six
of the most eminently-placed gentlemen of the Court, amongst
those who enjoyed the highest favour of the King. They
declared on entering that they were come only to see him. " A
very easy matter," said he, and turned himself back and front
wise to let himself be seen, went into his private room, and shut
the door behind him.
A treasurer of France, Pradel by name, formerly steward
of the old Marshal de Biron, and well known to the King, could
not get satisfa&ion from M. de Sully, who withheld his salary
from him. One day he wanted to have Pradel removed by force
from his presence, but the latter seized a knife from the table,
where a meal was set, and said: " You shall have my life first.
I am in the house of the King, and justice is my due." In the
end, after much stir, Pradel went to find the King, told him the
story, and declared that in the despair to which M. de Sully
had brought him, he would not mind being hanged, provided he
were avenged, and that he would die of hunger anyway. The
King rebuked him sternly, but, despite the complaints of M. de
Sully, Pradel was paid.
An Italian, on his way from the Arsenal, where he had
suffered some rebuffs from the head of the treasury, passed by
the Gr£ve, where some malefactors were being hanged. " Ah,
happy gallows-birds!" he exclaimed. "You've no dealings
with that Rosny! "
He was so much hated that people cut down the elm-trees
which he had caused to be planted along the main roads to adorn
13

MIV(I*A<TU'Re TO'RTRjyflTS
them. " It's a Rosny" they would say. " Let's make a Biron
of it! " s He had proposed to the King, who loved such institu
tions, that private individuals should plant trees alongside the
roads ; and when he saw that this was not successful, he was the
first to laugh at it.
M. de Sully says somewhere in his Memoirs that M. de
Biron, and twelve of the most gallant gentlemen of the Court,
were not able to carry through a ballet which they had under
taken, and that the King had had to order him, Sully, to apply
himself to it. Dancing was one of his weaknesses. Every
evening, until the death of Henry IV, a certain La Roche, valet
to the King, used to play the dances of the day on the lute, and
M. de Sully would dance all alone with some sort of extravagant
hat on his head, which he was used to wear in his private room.
The spectators of this were Duret, later president of Ghevry,
and La Clavelle, later seigneur of Chevigny, who, with a few
women of rather bad name, used to play the fool with him every
day. These persons applauded him, though he was the clumsiest
fellow in the world. He used sometimes to mount on horseback
in the courtyard of the Arsenal, but so gracelessly that every one
laughed at him.
Monsieur le Prince danced a ballet once, and the King com
manded M. de Sully to give an order for payment for this enter
tainment. M. de Sully was furious, and added underneath, in
mockery, " And a like sum for the broiderer." To infuriate
him further, Monsieur le Prince got himself a double payment,
by saying that it was half for the broiderer. He proceeded
with all his followers to M. d'Arbault, treasurer of the ipargne,
and only came away when he had received the money. The King
only laughed, and said that M. de Sully deserved what he'd got.
Sully himself kept the door of the hall with double galleries
which he had caused to be built at the Arsenal for ballets.
In his speech, he was the foulest man in the world. One
day some gentleman or other, very handsome in appearance,
came to dine with him. Mme de Sully, his second wife, who is
still alive, was gazing at him as hard as she could. " Confess,
madame," said he out loud, " confess that you'd be prettily
trapped if our friend turned out to have no  ." He had a
separate staircase built leading to his wife's apartment, and said
to her: " Madame, make them (you know whom I mean) pass
in by that staircase; for if ever I meet someone on mine, I'll
make him jump all the steps of it! "
H

TH€ TfU£ T>£ SULLY
This good man, more than five-and-twenty years after
every one had ceased to wear chains and diamond stars, used to
deck himself out in them every single day, and walked in this
get-up under the covered ways of the Place Royale, which is
near his house. All the passers-by were amused by the sight.
At Sully itself, where he retired towards the end of his days, he
kept fifteen or twenty aged peacocks and seven or eight decayed
old gentlemen who, at the sound of the bell, ranged themselves
in a row to do him reverence when he went for a walk, and then
followed up behind him. He maintained some sort of Swiss
guard. He used to say that there was salvation for a man in any
kind of religion, and wished to be buried in consecrated ground.
1 Most of this I have taken from a manuscript compiled by the late M.
Marbault, formerly Secretary of M. Duplessis-Mornay, on the Memoirs of
M. de Sully, in which he shows the almost complete falsity of these as to matters
bearing on the author. From these writings I have extracted what no one would
dare to publish when they come to be printed. [T.]
2 A play on the word amende, fine or penalty.
3 In allusion to the beheading of the Marshal Charles de Biron at the Bastille,
31st July 1602.

15

LOUIS XIII

HE marriage of Louis XIII took
place when he was still a child.
The King gave his first sign of
affedtion for somebody in the person
of his coachman, Saint-Amour.
Afterwards he showed kindly feel
ing for Haran, the keeper of his
dogs. When he wished to send
someone who could report faith
fully on the person of the Spanish
princess, he used for this mission
his coachman's father, as if it had
been for an inspection of dogs.
The grand prior of Vendome, the Commander de Souvre' et
Montpouillan-la-Force, a youth of wit and courage, but ugly
and red-haired, were sent away one after the other by the Queen-
Mother. At last M. de Luynes came, of whom, as of Desplan
too, we have spoken elsewhere. Nogent-Bautru, captain of the
archers of the gate, was never, properly speaking, a favourite,
but he was in the King's especial regard before Cardinal Richelieu
became his minister. He lined his purse in that post.
The late King did not lack wit, but, as I have said elsewhere,
it inclined to the malicious. He had a hindrance in his speech,
and, being shy, this had the result that he a<ted still less on his
own initiative. He was finely built, danced quite well in ballets,
but never performed anything but ridiculous parts. He sat a
horse well, would have stood fatigue well in case of need, and put
an army into battle well.
M. d'Estambon is a bad stammerer, and the King, seeing
him for the first time, stammered out some question to him.
Naturally, the other answered him in the same way, which
surprised the King, as if M. d'Estambon had wanted to make
a fool of him. It certainly seemed so, and if the King had not
been assured that this gentleman was afflicted with stuttering, he
would perhaps have used him ill.
Cardinal Richelieu, who dreaded lest he should get the title
of " Louis the Stammerer," was delighted at an opportunity pre-
16

LOUIS XIII
senting itself of naming him " Louis the Just." This happened
when Mme de Guemadeux, wife of the governor of Fougeres,
flung herself at his feet, weeping and lamenting, and yet he was
not moved, despite her being of great beauty. At La Rochelle
the name was confirmed to him, by reason of the treatment of the
people of that town. Some have laughingly added the word
" bowman," and said, " Louis, the Just Bowman." One day,
but long afterwards, Nogent was playing tennis or shuttlecock
with the King, and cried out " Yours, Sire! " But the King
missed his stroke, and Nogent cried, " Ah! there's a fine Louis
the Just for you! " The King was not in the least put out by it.
He was somewhat cruel, as are most men of sulky tempera
ment and small courage: for his worthy Majesty was not a man
of valour, although he wished to pass for such. At the siege of
Montauban, he had not the least pity when he saw a number of
Huguenots, of those whom Beaufort had wished to throw into
the town, lying in the moat of the castle where he lodged, most
of them stricken with terrible wounds. These moats were dry ;
they were put into them as into a safe keeping-place, and no one
ever deigned to give them water. Flies were devouring the poor
creatures. But the King found diversion for a long time in
mimicking the grimaces of the dying. The Comte de La
Rocheguyon (a man who could say things in a very pleasing
manner) was in his extremity, and the King sent a gentleman
to find out how he was. " Tell the King," said the Comte,
" that in a little while he will have his diversion. Only a moment
to wait, and I shall be starting my grimaces. Often enough I've
helped him to imitate others; now it will be my turn."
When M. le Grand (Cinq-Mars) was condemned, he said:
" I'd much like to see the grimace he's making at this moment
on that scaffold! "
Sometimes his arguments in council were passable, and it
even seemed that he had the advantage over the Cardinal. But
perhaps the latter had the sense to give him this small satisfaction.
His laxity was his undoing. Pisieux governed for a time, and
then La Vieuville, treasurer-general, was more or less minister
before the full dominion of Richelieu. La Vieuville had a mind
to infuriate every one. He wanted all the ladies who went to
speak to him to dance corantes. When asked for money, he ,
used to start moving his arms as if he were swimming, and say,
"I'm swimming! I'm swimming! I can't touch bottom!"
Scapin went to him once with some request or other, and La
Vieuville, as soon as this fellow appeared, started playing the
17 b

{MI$(I*A<rU'R£ PO'Rf'Rj^irS
zany. Scapin looked at him, and then said: " Sir, you have
played my part: now start to play your own." The King,
with the conceit to treat him as a horse, made him eat some
sweetened hay, and next day made him his treasurer. Which
of the two, think you, deserved the more to feed on grass ? In
the end, when the Marshal d'Ornano placed himself of his own
free will in the Bastille in order to justify himself with regard to
certain accusations made of him, the rumour ran that La Vieu
ville was their true cause. The followers of Monsieur angered
their master, who grumbled so much that La Vieuville got his
dismissal. This happened at Saint-Germain, and when he took
his departure on that day, all the scullions were brought out to
set up a tremendous shindy with their pots and pans, a salvo of
farewell, as they said.
Louis XIII was turned away from the wild parties of
Moulinier and de Justine, two of the chapel musicians; they
did not serve him any too well, and he had the half of their
salaries cut off. But Marais, the royal buffoon, supplied them
with a device to have themselves reinstated. They went with
him to the evening audience and danced a masquerade only
half clothed. The one who had a doublet had no breeches,
the breechless no doublet. " What means this? " said the King.
" Sire," they answered, " it means that those who are on half-
pay are in half-dress likewise." The King laughed at this,
and took them back into favour.
On his journey from Lyons, in a little town called Tournus,
between Chalons and Micon, a certain Franciscan wished to
make the Queen-Mother believe that the King, in passing by,
had made a dumb girl to speak, by touching her, as if she had
had the scrofula. The girl was shown to her, and the good
Father said he had seen it, and after him the whole town said so
too. Father Souffran arranged for a procession and the singing
of chants. The Queen took the good monk, and, joining the
King, said to the latter that he ought to pray to God in thanks
for the grace vouchsafed to him in thus operating through him so
great a miracle. The King said that he knew not what was
meant. " Behold the modesty of this good prince! " cried the
Franciscan. In the end the King declared that it was a piece of
roguery, and wanted to send troops to punish these impostors.
He already loved Mme d'Hautefort, who was still only a maid
of the Queen's. Her companions used to say, " You can't do
anything; the King is a saint." His loves were of a strange
sort. He had none of the attributes of a lover save jealousy.
18

LOUIS XIII
He provided Mme d'Hautefort with horses, dogs, birds, and
the like. He gave her the succession to the lady of the wardrobe,
and she received some gifts. But he was jealous of d'Esgvilly-
Vasse, and he had to be brought to believe that this gentleman
was a kinsman of the fair one. The King wished to know it
from d'Hozier's lips, but the word was passed to d'Hozier,
and he said everything he was wanted to say.
Mme de la Flotte, the widow of one of the MM. du Bellay,
offered herself as governess of the Queen-Mother's daughters,
although the employment was one beneath her station, and
obtained the post by her importunity. She gave her daughter's
daughter, from the age of twelve, to the Queen-Mother: this
was Mme d'Hautefort. She was beautiful. The King fell in
love with her, and the Queen grew jealous, by which the King
was not greatly concerned. The girl, with thoughts of marriage,
or of giving the King some cause of inquietude, permitted
some liberties to be taken with herself. One week he was lost
in her; next week, he almost loathed her. When the Queen-
Mother was arrested at Compiegne, Mme de la Flotte was made
lady of the wardrobe in place of Mme du Fargis, and her grand
daughter is accepted as successor.
On some journey or other the King went to a ball in a small
town. At the end of the ball, a girl named Catin Gau climbed
on a chair to take a candle-end, riot of a wax candle, but of a
common grease dip in a wooden stick. The King said that she
did this with so good a grace that he fell in love with her, and
on leaving he had her given ten thousand crowns for her goodness.
The King afterwards lost his heart to La Fayette. The
Queen and Mme d'Hautefort made league against her, and from
that time they got on together very well. The King turned
back to Mme d'Hautefort again, and the Cardinal caused her
to be sent packing, but that in no way broke her alliance with the
Queen. One day Mme d'Hautefort was holding a letter which
the King desired to see, but she refused to show it. At last he
made an attempt to take it, and she, being on the closest familiarity
with him, placed it in her bosom, saying: " If you want it,
will you take it from in there? " Guess what he did! From
fear of touching this lovely girl's breast, he took up the tongs
from the hearth!
The late King used to begin his cajoling of a girl by saying
to her: " No naughty thoughts! " Once he had written an air
which took his fancy, and sent to ask Bois-Robert to put words to
it for him. Bois-Robert made some verses on the King's love
19

MINJtAWRe TO'Rf'RjA'irS
for Mme d'Hautefort, but the King said to him: " They are
neat enough. But you must take out the word desires, for I
have no sort of desire."

The Queen, according to the journals of the Cardinal,
injured herself by the application of a plaster, before she became
pregnant with the future Louis XIV. The King lay with her
but rarely. " Putting on the bolster," it was called, for ordinarily
the Queen did not use one. When he was informed that the
Queen was with child, he said: " Then that must be from such-
and-such a day." For a bout of weakness, he used to take
some cool drinks and he was bled frequently. This was not
beneficial to his health. But I was forgetting that Hetouard,
his chief physician, has compiled several volumes which begin
from the hour of the King's birth and continue up to the siege
of La Rochelle, wherein you will see nothing but the hours
at which he awoke, breakfasted, spat, relieved himself, etc.

The pains that were taken to amuse the King at hunting
helped greatly to make him difficult. But the chase did not
occupy him so fully that he had not full leisure to grow bored.
At times he would take somebody and say to him: " Let us
stand at this window, and let's be bored, let's be bored ! " Then
he would sink into musing.
One could hardly reckon all the fine occupations which he
learned, apart from those connected with the chase; for he
could make clyster pipes, laces, nets, arquebuses, coins — and M.
d'Angoul&me pleasingly said to him, " Sire, you carry your own
abolition with you! " He was a good maker of preserves, and
a good gardener; he grew green peas which he sent for sale to
the market. Montauron, it is said, bought them at a high price,
for they were the first of the season. Montauron also bought,
for diplomatic reasons, all the Ruel wine of Cardinal Richelieu,
who took pleasure in saying: " I have sold my wine at a hundred
livres the cask."
The King set himself to learn to lard. One would see
George the equerry coming with splendid larding-pins and
20

LOUIS XIII
great loins of veal. And once somebody came to announce
that " His Majesty was larding." Notice how admirably the
words accord, majesty and larding !
I am afraid of forgetting one of his accomplishments. He
could shave well. One day he cut the beards of all his officers,
and left them only a little tuft on the chin. There was a song
made about it: Helas ! ma pauvre barbe,
Qu'est-ce qui ia faite ainsi?
C'est le grand roi Louis
Treizieme de ce nom
Qui toute a ebarbe sa maison, etc.
He composed music, and had a pretty fair understanding
thereof. He made an air for the rondeau on the death of the
Cardinal : II est passe, il a plie bagage, etc.
Miron, master of the audits, was its author.
He painted a little. In a word, he was just as his epitaph
says: He was Endowed with Menial Virtues
Beyond numbering,
And of Those which most Befit a Master
He had None.
His last occupation was making window-frames with M. de
Noyers. But there is one kingly virtue that has been found for
him : if indeed dissimulation is to be held as such. On the eve
of the arrest of MM. de Vendome, he caressed them repeatedly,
and the next day he said to M. de Lian court, " Would you ever
have believed that?" "No, Sire," he answered, "you have
carried out your impersonation too well." He showed that this
reply had not been too agreeable, yet it was plain that he was
asking praise for having dissimulated so skilfully.
He once did something which his brother, M. d'Orleans,
would not have done. Plessis-Besancon was going to lay cer
tain accounts before him, and, being a man who was always
absorbed in whatever he was doing, he spread out his books
on the King's working desk, after unthinkingly placing his hat
on his head. The King said nothing. When he had finished,
he looked everywhere for his hat. " It has been on your head
for a considerable time," remarked the King. M. d'Orleans
21

MIUVItATU'Re TO'RTR^irS
once sent to offer a cushion to a man who, without thinking, had
seated himself in a hall through which His Royal Highness
was strolling.
The King did not like his chief personal attendants to be
gentlemen, for he used to say that he wanted to be able to thrash
them, and he did not think he could thrash a gentleman without
wronging himself. According to this, he did not hold Beringhen
a gentleman. I have said before that he was naturally malicious. He used
to say: " So-and-so is greatly relieved, I think, by my edict
against duelling! " He made mock of those who did not fight,
at the same time issuing edicts against those who did. He had
all the petty pride of a squireen, and used to think that his honour
was being offended when a sergeant entered the palace precincts.
He wanted to have one such beaten who had come to carry out
his duty in the courtyard of Fontainebleau, for some debt.
But a councillor of state who happened to be there said to him :
" But, Sire, it should be known in whose name and by whose
warrant he is doing this." The documents were brought.
" Sire," he was told, "it is in the King's name: these men
are the ministers of your own justice." King Philip II of Spain
ordered that the sergeants should have entry into all the houses
of the great, and thereafter they were respected everywhere.
He has been recognised as miserly in everything. After
the death of the Cardinal, he struck off all the pensions of men
of letters, saying: " We're not going to be troubled with that
any more."
Again, after the Cardinal's death, M. de Schomberg told
him that Corneille was desirous of dedicating to him his tragedy
of Polyeucte. This alarmed him, because Montauron had given
two hundred pistoles to Corneille for Cinna. " Quite unneces
sary," he said. " Ah, Sire," pursued M. de Schomberg, " it
is not an interested offer." " Oh, very well, then," said the
King. " It will give me pleasure." It was to the Queen that
the 'tragedy was dedicated in the end, for meanwhile the King
died. On one occasion at Saint-Germain, he desired to see the
household lists of food. He cut off a milk soup which Mme
la G<_netale Coquet used to eat every morning. True, she
made a pig of herself quite enough without that.
He found on the accounts some biscuits which had been
given to M. de La Vrilliere. At this very moment M. de La
Vrilliere came in. Brusquely, the King said, " From what I
22

LOUIS XIII
can see here, La Vrilliere, you're very fond of biscuits." But,
on the other hand, he had the air of liberality when, reading:
" A pot of jelly for so-and-so, being sick," he exclaimed: " I
could wish it had cost me six times that, and he were not dead! "
He cut off three pairs of slippers from his wardrobe ; and when
M. the Marquis de Rambouillet, who was its grand keeper,
asked him what should be done with twenty pistoles left over
from what had been granted to buy horses for the litters, the
King said to him: " Give them to so-and-so, musketeer, to
whom I owe them. One must begin by paying one's debts."
He stopped the falconers from buying the square pieces from the
kitchen servants, which they did for trifling sums, and made
the latter give them for the birds, without recompensing the
kitchen servants.
He was not humane in feeling. In Picardy once he saw
some oats mown down, although they were still green, and
some peasant-folk gathered round this damage; instead of
complaining of the King's light-horsemen who had just accom
plished this fine exploit, these people prostrated themselves
before him and called down blessings on him. " I am extremely
angry," he said to them, " at the injury done to you there."
" It is nothing, Sire," they answered him, " all is in your keeping.
So long as you yourself flourish, 'tis enough." " A good
people! " said he to his followers. But he did not have anything
given them, nor did he think of having a relief from the taille
tax allowed them.
One of the greatest acts of humanity, I think, that his life
could show, was on one occasion in Lorraine. The peasant
in whose house he was dining, in a village where they were
very comfortably placed before this last war, was so much taken
by a certain soup of partridge and vegetables that he followed
it right to the King's table. " This is a splendid soup," said
the King. " That is certainly the opinion of your host, Sire,"
said the chief serving-man; " he has not once taken his eyes
from off it." " Indeed," said the King. " Then I desire that
he partake of it." So he had it covered again and ordered it to
be served to the man.
The Cardinal, having sent Mme d'Hautefort away, and Mme
La Fayette having retired to a convent, the King announced his
desire of going to the Bois de Vincennes, and on the way he spent
five hours at the house of the Daughters of the Blessed Mary,
where La Fayette was. As he came out, Nogent said to him,
" Sire, you haye just seen the unhappy prisoner? " " I am more
23

MIUiltATU'Re TO'RTR^flTS
of a prisoner than she," answered the King. The Cardinal had
a suspicion of this long conversation, and sent M. de Noyers
thither, to whom M. de Tresmes did not dare to refuse the
door. His Eminence saw clearly that the King must have some
amusement, and cast his eyes, as I have said, on Cinq-Mars,
who was already quite agreeable to the King.
At first, M. de Cinq-Mars set the King carousing. There
was dancing, and much drinking of toasts. But as he was a
spirited youth and fond of his pleasures, he soon grew weary
of a life which he had only taken up unwillingly. Moreover,
La Chesnaye, chief of the personal attendants, who was his spy,
had put him on bad terms with the Cardinal, for La Chesnaye
told the latter a hundred trifles about the King which Cinq-
Mars did not tell at all, and which the Cardinal wished to know
of. Cinq-Mars, having become the chief equerry and Comte
de Dampmartin, had La Chesnaye dismissed, but this also
helped on the hostility between himself and the Cardinal.
We have told how the King loved him to distraction.
Fontrailles used to tell how once at Saint-Germain he entered
very abruptly into M. Ie Grand's chamber; he surprised him
as he was having himself rubbed from head to foot with oil of
jasmine; and, placing himself in bed, Cinq-Mars said to him
in a rather uncertain voice, " That is more cleanly." A moment
after came a knock. It was the King. It would appear, as
the son of the late L'Huillier said on being told this, that he was
anointing himself for contest.
I have been told also that once, during some journey or
other, the King retired to bed about seven o'clock. Immediately
two large dogs leapt on to the bed, tumbled it about completely,
and began kissing His Majesty. He sent M. le Grand to
undress, who returned adorned like a bride. " To bed, to
bed," he said to him impatiently. He was content to chase
the dogs away without having the bed remade, and the mignon
was not in before the King was already kissing his hands. But
he did not find that M. le Grand, whose heart was elsewhere,
responded to his great ardour, for he said to him: " But what
is it, my friend? What is wrong? What do you want?
You're so sad ? De Niest ! 1 Ask him what annoys him : look
you, have you ever seen such favour shown to anyone? " He
had him spied upon to know whether he was going somewhere
under the rose.
M. le Grand had been in love with Marion de L'Orme
24

LOUIS XIII
more than he was then. Once on his way to find her in Brie,
he was mistaken for a thief by some men who were actually
running after some robbers. They tied him to a tree, and, if
he had not been recognised by someone, they would have thrown
him in prison. Mme d'Effiat was afraid lest he should marry
this young woman, and procured legal injunctions. He had
infuriated his mother for some time, for she was miserly, and
he, out of spite, used to change his clothes four times a day,
and went to see her as many times. But she got over this
aversion from the time he came into favour. She might well
love him, for he was the only one who was worth anything. He
had courage. He fought, and fought very well, against Du
Dognon, now Marshal Foucault. He had wit, and his person
was finely fashioned. Her eldest son died mad; he used to
make soles for shoes out of the finest tapestries of Chilly; and
the abbe is a person of very small consequence, though witty
enough. The greatest passion of M. le Grand at that time was for
Chemerault, now Mme de La Baziniere. She was then in a
religious house in Paris. She had been dismissed from the
Queen's household on his account, and in the end sent into
Poiton. One evening at Saint-Germain he met Rumigny and
said to him: " Follow me. I must go away to have converse
with Chemerault. There is a place on the moat where I want
to pass; someone is waiting for me there with two horses."
They went out; but the groom had gone to sleep on the ground
and his two horses had been taken away. M. le Grand was
in despair. They went on into the town to try to obtain other
horses, but they noticed a man following them at a distance.
It was a light horseman, the chief spy kept by the King on M. le
Grand, and when the latter recognised him he summoned him
to come and speak with him. The fellow insisted that they
were going out to fight each other. He protested that they
were nothing of the kind, and in the end the man withdrew.
Whereupon Rumigny advised M. le Grand to give up his plan
and return, for fear of angering the King, to go to bed, and, in a
couple of hours' time, to send to invite some officers of the ward
robe to come and entertain him, because he could not sleep.
In this way, he urged, he would throw doubt for a time on the
credibility of his spies, for they would not fail to tell the King
next morning that he had gone out. M. le Grand accepted
this counsel. Next morning the King greeted him with " Well,
so you have been to Paris?" But he produced his witnesses
25

MiNj<jru'Re TO'RTR^firs
against that, and the spy was confounded. So he had freedom
to make three nocturnal journeys to Paris.
To tell the truth, it was a sad life the King made him lead.
In all probability, the King shunned company, and Paris above
all, because he was ashamed of the calamitous state of the people.
There were hardly any cries of Long live the King ! when he
passed. But he was incapable of putting order into anything.
The only care he had reserved for himself was to purvey for the
companies of the guards' regiment and of the old corps, and
he was more jealous of that than of anything else. It has been
remarked that the King liked everything that M. le Grand hated,
and that M. le Grand hated everything that the King liked.
They agreed in one thing only, and that was in detesting the
Cardinal. I have already told this story elsewhere.

After the death of Cardinal Richelieu, the King manifested
his joy at receiving papers himself. He used to say that he
would never have a favourite to keep. He was more fond, it
seemed, of M. de Noyers than of anyone, and when some work
was spoken of, he would say, if M. de Noyers were not there,
" No, no. Let us wait for the good little fellow." The
other came with his cringing air. He was good at serving
under somebody else. He was, as people used to say, a " clog
Jesuit," for he was one without wearing the habit or living with
them. (The illegitimate daughters of the Queen are called the
" clogs," because clogs are left at the door.) It was he, never
theless, who brought about the dismissal of Father Sirmond,
but to replace him with one who was, so to speak, more of a
Jesuit, for this worthy father is rather too frank, and he writes
only small books: they like one to write large volumes. The
" good little fellow," trusting to the affection ofthe King, found
himself caught, for Cardinal Mazarin and Chavigny gave to
those who approached the King, and although he was always
at Saint-Germain, and they almost always in Paris, they neverthe
less ousted him. He died soon afterwards at Dangu, a house
of his near Pontoise. Already people were scratching at his
door,2 as at that of the Cardinal.
Soon afterwards the late King died himself. He had always
dreaded the Devil, for he did not love God, but had a great fear
of Hell. He had the Dauphin baptized, and Cardinal Mazarin
26

LOUIS XIII
held him as proxy for the Pope. He was impelled by a vision,
twenty years ago, to place his kingdom under the protection of
the Virgin, and in the declaration which he issued concerning it,
there were these words: " To the end that all Our good subjects
may enter into Paradise, for such is Our Will and Pleasure." That
was the conclusion of this noble piece.
In his last illness, he was strangely superstitious. One day
he was told of some pretended saint or other who had a quite
peculiar gift of discovering the bodies of saints, and who used
to say as he walked along, " Search in here: there's a saint's
body in here." Whereupon Nogent exclaimed in his manner
of a bad buffoon, as the Cardinal's journal says: " If I had him
I'd take him with me into Burgundy: he'd find me plenty of
truffles! " The King was furious, and cried: " Out of here,
you rascal!" (One day when Nogent entered the King's
apartment, he said to him, "Ah, Nogent! I am delighted to
see you: I thought you had been exiled.") He died steadfastly
enough, and said, looking over at the tower of Saint-Denis,
which is visible from the new castle of Saint-Germain, where
he was lying sick, " That is where I shall soon be lying." He
said to M. le Prince: " Cousin, I have been thinking that my
cousin, your son, was engaging the enemy, and that he was
gaining the upper hand." It was the battle of Rocroy. He
sent for the Parliament, to make them promise that they would
observe the declaration he had made. It was founded on that
of the Cardinal, wherein he had only made some alteration.
By this declaration, the Queen had an obligatory council, and
had thereon only her own voice, no more than anyone else. He
told them she would ruin everything were they to make her
Regent, like the late Queen-Mother. She threw herself at his
knees. He soon made her rise; he understood her well, and
treated her with contempt.
It was said when Monsieur le Prince died, and had also
shown strength of mind, that there was no longer any honour in
dying well, since these two men had managed to do so. People
went to the funeral of the King as to a wedding, and appeared
before the Queen as at a tourney.
1 His chief personal attendant. [T.]
2 It was customary, says Monmerque, to scratch at a royal door, instead of
knocking ; and flatterers were used to pay this compliment to the powerful.

27

M. D'ORLEANS (GASTON)

S a child, Monsieur d'Orleans
was extremely pretty, and it is told
of him that, seven or eight years
ago, on seeing the King and M.
d'Anjou, he said: "Don't be
astonished by trifles! I was just as
pretty as that! "
But he did something very ridi
culous at Fontainebleau, when he
had a certain gentleman pitched
into the canal for not having shown
him sufficient respect, according to
his way of thinking. There was
much outcry over that; he refused to ask the gentleman's
pardon, even although he was reminded of the example of
Charles IX, who learned once, when king, that a man to whom
he had given a touch of his switch in the heat of the chase, was
a gentleman. " I am no more myself," he said, and gave him
satisfaction. But the other was never willing to appear at Court.
The Queen-Mother wished him to be whipped, and that
made him take the resolution.
M. d'Orleans complained frequently that the only tutors
given him were a Turk and a Corsican: M. de Breves, who
had been so long in Constantinople that he had become quite a
Mussulman, and the Marshal d'Ornano, son of Aphonse of
Corsica. This Marshal had a pleasing scruple: he never dared
touch a woman whose name was Marie, so strong was his devotion
to the Virgin; being in love with Mme de Gravelle, he had her
portrait painted with beams darting from her eyes, and under
neath was the inscription:
And from her eyes there sped effulgent rays.
Gaston was rather wild in his youth, and he has painted the
town red more than once. A good fellow enough, and by no
means lacking in wit. One day, when a great number of
courtiers were with him at his levee, a cherished gold watch
of his was stolen. " We must shut the doors," said somebody,
28

m. vorls^^s (g^srovQ
" and search every one." But Monsieur said, humanely:
" On the contrary, gentlemen: you must all go out, in case the
watch happens to strike and discloses the person who has availed
himself of it." And he made them all leave the room.

The finest thing he ever did in his life was his remaining
faithful to his second wife, Margaret of Lorraine, and never to
have wished to forsake her. She is a poor idiot, but with some
spirit none the less. When they were remarried at Meudon,
after the death of the Cardinal, she wept, because she imagined
she had been in mortal sin till then. She is pretty, but has bad
teeth and holds her head down between her shoulders. True,
she straightens herself up when dancing, and she dances well.
She is the very opposite of her predecessor, who was proud as a
dragon. The King was mightily pleased when he saw that she
had brought forth only a daughter.
At a party where every one was telling some story to make
mock of Cardinal Richelieu, M. de Chavigny also joined in
with a story. With a smile, M. d'Orleans said to him: Et tu
quoque, fili, for it was said that he was the son of the Cardinal,
who in his youth had lain with Mme Bouthillier. It was this
lady who made the fortunes of the house. She caused her
husband to be given a post with the Queen-Mother, and after
wards he became treasurer. She also had her brother-in-law
made coadjutor of Tours.
A word or two of the loves of Monsieur. He was still
quite young when he became a widower, and used to say: " I
am not quite suited to this sort of gallantry nowadays, seeming
to be sickly, being pale, fainting away." Indeed, he has always
been a ruddy fellow. I think he had some small adventures of
gallantry in Flanders, but I have found nothing memorable.
On his return he fell in love with a pretty creature of the Saint-
Paul neighbourhood, Mme Ribaudon by name, and sundry
verses were current about them.
La Ribaudon, quand Monsieur la regarde,
Pere, frere, mari, tout le monde est en garde,
Tout doux, etc. . . .
At that time, he used to play and take meals very frequently
with the ladies of this fair one's neighbourhood. He thought
29

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
very highly of Mme de Ribaudon, but it is not said that he
received any favour of her. Since then she has died, through
lack of care for herself: she was delicate, and wanted to do all
that the most robust do.
After Mme de Ribaudon, Monsieur's love was for a girl of
Tours, Louison Roger by name. She belonged to a leading
family ofthe town. M. de Montbazon, who had property near
Tours and was often there, had previously given her a little
silver plaque; Monsieur presented her with a large one. She
was a pleasing girl, and had lively spirits. One day, as they were
chatting, she cried out: " Oh, bless us! Monsieur's big plaque
has tried to swallow M. de Montbazon's little one! " She took
two years before she would allow Monsieur to speak with her
except in the company of two elderly companions. This intrigue
brought its pleasures, but jealousy was soon mingled with it, for
L'Epinay, a gentleman of Normandy, then the favourite of
Monsieur, was thrown out of favour, as was Louison also.
This L'Epinay, according to what is said, had served his
master so faithfully on this lady's account, that it was believed
that he had triumphed the first. He lived so indiscreetly that
rumours of his ways reached the ears of the King, who did not
fail to rally Monsieur, who up to then had had no doubts, although
he was quite honourably on his guard. The first time he saw
the fair one, he made her confess everything, and L'Epinay,
knowing that, was so imprudent that, instead of writing to her
that he was astounded by her saying the contrary to what she
knew, he wrote to her by the Comte de Brion a letter in which
he begged her to send him a lock of her hair. Louison refused
to receive it, and gave Monsieur warning. He had Brion
searched, and found no trace of the letter, but a search at his
lodging discovered it in the mattress of his bed. La Riviere
said that M. d'Orleans had found in M. de Brion's breeches
a letter from Louison to L'Epinay. He had thoughts of having
him stabbed, and spoke of it to the late King, who was ofthe same
mind, for, besides being by nature rather cruel, he thought
that this example would hold back those who were taking
liberties from telling the story to Mme d'Hautefort. But Car
dinal Richelieu, who was also taken into counsel, prevented it.
The Cardinal did not like the Court to acquire a habit of assas
sinations. Nevertheless, Monsieur had guards set round
Louison's lodging at night, with orders to kill L'Epinay if he
came thither.
I learned from a friend of mine, who had it from the Abbi
3°

{M. WORLEtAXtS (QzJSrON)
de La Riviere, that M. L'Epinay went off to Paris after Monsieur
had dismissed him, and met M. de Brion at Etampes. To the
latter, as to a friend, he gave a letter for Louison, wherein he
said that his disgrace was a grief to him only because it sundered
him from her whom he loved, and that his sole consolation was
the pleasure of kissing the bracelet of her hair which she had
given him. Word was conveyed to Monsieur that M. de Brion
had seen L'Epinay on the way, so, waiting until he had retired,
he entered his chamber and took possession of his breeches, in
which the letter was hidden. This is what finally convinced
him that Louison had been unfaithful to him.
The banished L'Epinay made his way to Holland, where
he found easy access to the Queen of Bohemia's Court. Entering
there with the reputation of a gentleman of fortunate gallantry,
he was received with greater consideration than another would
have been, and, in his ambition to devote himself only to prin
cesses or the mistresses of princes, he is said to have paid his
addresses first to the mother, and afterwards to the Princess
Louise: for Louises were fatal to this youth. This girl, it is
said, became pregnant, and retired when her time was at hand
to Leyden, where no trouble was made about such things.
But the Princess Elizabeth, the eldest daughter, who is a
virtuous young woman, and much fairer to the eye than the
other, could not tolerate her mother, the Queen, eyeing with
favour a man who had so outrageously affronted their family.
She incited her brothers against him, but the Elector was content
with flinging L'Epinay's hat on the ground one day when, on
account of a shower, he had covered himself by the Queen's
command. But the youngest, Philip, who was later killed at the
battle of Rhetel, took this insult more to heart, and one day,
near the fashionable resort at The Hague, he attacked L'Epinay,
who was accompanied by two men, and he himself had no more.
They fought for some time, but were separated by persons who
arrived on the scene. Every one advised L'Epinay to with
draw, but he would never do anything of the kind. At last,
having dined one day with M. de la Tuilerie, the French ambas
sador, he went out with Des Loges, son of M. des Loges. If
anyone had thought that Prince Philip would have dared to
have him assassinated in broad daylight, he would not have
been left unaccompanied, and it was only by chance that M. de
la Vieuville (the present duke), who had also dined at the ambas
sador's, did not go along with him. Well, he was set upon by
eight or ten Englishmen, in Prince Philip's presence. Des
31

Mi$(i<jru%e PORfR^firs
Loges did not put a finger on his sword, and L'Epinay defended
himself alone as best he could. But he was run through by so
many thrusts that the swords met in his body. He made an
effort to escape, but fell; still, on his knees, he put up some
resistance, and then breathed his last.
As for the Princess Louise, she changed her religion and is
Abbess of Maubuisson, where she leads an exemplary life.
Mme de Longueville wrote from The Hague, where she saw
her when on her way to Munster: " I have seen the Princess
Elizabeth, and I do not think anyone envies L'Epinay the
crown of his martyrdom." As for the Queen of Bohemia,
people only think that she was very pleased that her daughter
found some diversion. L'Epinay was welcome at the Court
of the Prince of Orange, who was not displeased that he should
be often in the company of his son. L'Epinay was spirited
and adroit, and would assuredly have made good his fortunes
there. Meanwhile the hapless Louison, seeing that Monsieur
refused to acknowledge the son of whom she was brought to
bed, took religious vows at Tours, at the House of the Daughters
of the Visitation, made over to her friends everything she had
been able to have from her own house and from Monsieur, and
left only twenty thousand livres to her son. With the revenues
from this he was to be maintained until he was acknowledged,
or until he was able to go and lose his life in the wars, if recog
nition were refused him. The boy was seen once to take a
sword in his hand, and someone said to him: " Put that back
in its sheath, you little rogue: that's the surest way of never
being recognised for your father's son! " Monsieur is in no
way brave. (The aged Lambert, governor of Metz, who had
served a long time without receiving so much as a scratch, used
to say laughing: " So-and-so " (I have forgotten the name),
" Monsieur d'Orleans and myself, we have often been at blows,
but never yet been wounded.")
She is still living, and only four years ago Monsieur was
passing through Tours and was desirous to speak with her. His
wife prevented it. Louison sent her Some fruit. Mademoiselle
took a fancy to the little boy, and keeps him with her. But
Monsieur takes good care not to acknowledge him, for, besides
the fact that he believes L'Epinay to be the father, he would
have to provide for him.
He can play the vulgar tricks of a page, but yet is so rankly
vainglorious that in his coach no one is ever allowed to sit with
32

M. T)' ORLEANS (g^fSTO^Q
his head covered, even on a journey. The late King made great
mock of him. He is so restless that he has to be buttoned up
at a run. He wears his hat always like a swashbuckler, is
always whistling, and keeps his hand always in his breeches.
The rest we shall tell in the Memoirs of the Regency.

33

FATHER JOSEPH AND THE
NUNS OF LOUDUN
(HE family name of Father Joseph,
of the Capuchins, was Leclerc.
He was brother to M. du Trem-
blay, whom he made governor of
the Bastille. The Cardinal made
his acquaintance in Poitou, whither
he had been sent by his superiors.
Never was there a man of more
intriguing disposition or of fierier
spirit. His head was always full of
great plans. At one time he did
nothing but preach the Holy War.
M. de Mantoue, M. de Breves, Mme de Rohan, and Father
Joseph used very often to vanquish the whole Turkish dominion
together. Later on he took the house of Austria as his goal,
and worked hard to bring the King of Sweden to enter Germany.
He boasted of being born to lay low the house of Austria. In
point of fact, he was far from being a fool ; he gave great comfort
to the Cardinal, who never took a step without him. In the
early days he used to go about on horseback, and one day Father
Ange Soubini had a stallion, and Father Joseph a mare. The
stallion mounted the mare, and the hoods of the two friars
made the most amusing picture in the world. " An impudent
animal! " said Father Joseph; and thereafter that horse was
always called " Impudent." To avoid such scandals, he was
given a coach. Later, he had a litter and all manner of things : he
was certainly on the way to becoming a cardinal, had he not died.
In a small town of some province or other in France, a
certain courtier went to see a Capuchin. The chiefs of the order
came to entertain him, and asked him news of the King, then of
Cardinal Richelieu. " And now," said the superior, " can you
tell us anything of our good Father Joseph ? "
" He is in the best of health; he is dispensed from all kinds
of austerities." 34

F<ATHE7l JOSEPH <AX(p THE V(U2(S
" Poor man! " said the superior.
" He has high standing: the greatest courtiers visit him
with respect."
" Poor man! " said the superior.
" He has a fine litter when he travels."
"Poor man!"
" A mule for his litter."
"Poor man!"
" When there is something good at the Cardinal's table, it is
sent to him."
"Poor man!"
And so on: to each item the worthy superior ejaculated
" Poor man! " as if the poor man were an object of pity. It is
from this anecdote that Moliere took what he wrote in his Tar-
tuffe, where the husband, infatuated with the bigot, repeats
several times " Poor man! "
People have maintained that the diabolic possession at
Loudun would never have happened but for him, for Grandier,
the cure, and the Capuchins of Loudun disputed as to who should
have the ruling of the nuns who were, or pretended to be, pos
sessed. There was a love affair mixed up with it, and a Capuchin
was killed. The Capuchins, seeing that they were supported by
Father Joseph, pushed out Grandier, and persuaded the nuns,
who were poor, that they would soon find themselves with gold
for the asking. So they were instructed to act their possession
by devils. As for Latin, they hardly knew a word, and it used
to be said that the Loudun devils had only studied a third of their
Latin grammars. Le Couldray Montpensier had two daughters
there whom he took back home; he had them well treated and
well whipped, whereupon the devil instantly fled from them.
Possibly there were some who did not know the secret,
and imagined, either in melancholy or because they were told
so, that they were possessed. They were taught, or the majority
at least, a few words of Latin, and a good many loose words.
Mme d'Aiguillon was there, and MUe de Rambouillet, later
Mme de Montausier. They saw some tumblers' tricks per
formed, which in turn they afterwards had done by their lackeys.
The town, and the innkeepers especially, grew rich over it.
People rushed thither from all parts. Duneau, a Huguenot
physician, and principal of the College of Saumur, was sum
moned. He laughed at it all. It was he who said that a
physician was animal incombustibile propter religionem. Quillet
also was summoned, and when certain nuns of Chinon showed
35

MIVQtAfURE PORTRAITS
a desire to imitate those of Loudun, he composed a satire about
it in Latin verses, on account of which Bautru advised him to
take himself off, and made him over to Marshal d'Estrees,
with whom he served in Rome in his extraordinary embassy.
When the minister of Loudun was challenged to put his
fingers into the mouths of the nuns, in the same way as the priests
placed the fingers with which they hold the host, he replied
that he had no familiarities with the devil, and did not at all
want to play with him. One devil had boasted that he would
carry off the minister in his pulpit on to the tower of Loudun.
But he did no such thing.
This foolish business, or rather this desire of the Capuchins
for vengeance, was the cause of Grandier's being burnt alive,
for Laubardemont, a good courtier, sacrificed him to the credit
of Father Joseph. This Grandier had been a man of gallantry,
and had made enemies for himself in the town, who did him
harm. On one occasion the devil announced: " M. de Lau
bardemont is a cuckold." And Laubardemont, as his custom
was, set down in his account that evening : All of which I declare
to be truth, and duly signed it.
In the end, the whole business vanished into thin air, as
people gradually became disillusioned.

36

SAUVAGE

NE of Monsieur d'Orleans' fol
lowers was Sauvage. He was a
very agreeable fellow, whose god
was his belly. He used to give
admirable imitations of the songs
of the Pont Neuf. When Mon
sieur had gone away to Lorraine,
he was anxious to seek him out,
and, in order to get hold of boots
cheaply, he ordered a pair from
each of ten or twelve different
shoemakers, giving them different hours to call. To each one
he declared that one boot was too tight, and then gave them all
one time at which to bring them back. When they came — they
found nobody!
From Brussels Sauvage used to send gazettes full of inventions
to spike the wheels of Renaudot, whose Gazette de France was
beginning to circulate. The gazette of Sauvage was much
more popular than the other. Moreover, for the sake of diver
sion, he used every day to contrive some imposture or other.
It was he who had engraved the representation of a fish which
he styled the " Adriatic carp," in the body of which had been
found, according to the inscription, I know not how many
muskets, halberds, crosses, etc. This circulated throughout
France. His last imposture was an edict of the parliament of
Grenoble, whereby a certain child was declared legitimate,
although the mother confessed that it was conceived during
her husband's absence, on the grounds that it was done by the
force of imagination, she thinking that he was living with her.
The names were given, and those of the doctors and midwife too.
Plenty of good folk believed it. It was written in the true style
of Grenoble, and the procurator-general of Paris wrote to that
of Grenoble concerning this edict. The parliament there issued
one against the author, whereof the latter only made mock.
In the medical schools the question was debated whether the
force of imagination could suffice to produce a conception.
Sometimes Sauvage concocted also satiric gazettes, as that one
in which he said: " The God of the Charente who appeared to
Balzac has arrived here, as little of a God as ever."
37

MADAME DE RAMBOUILLET

S I have said elsewhere, Mme de
Rambouillet is a daughter of the
late Marquis de Pisani, and of a
lady named Savelli, widow of an
Ursin. Her mother was an able
woman, who took pains to educate
her in the Italian tongue, so that
she might be equally familiar with
that and with French. This lady
was always esteemed at Court,
and was sent by Henry IV with
Mme de Guise, the supervisor of
the Queen's household, to receive
the Queen-Mother at Marseilles. She married her daughter
(who had ten thousand crowns income from her family), before
she was twelve years old, to the Vidame of Le Mans.
Mme de Rambouillet says that at first she looked on her
husband, who was then twice as old as she, as a grown man,
that she regarded herself as a child, and that this has always
remained rooted in her inmost heart and has brought her to
respect him the more deeply. The trials apart, there never
was a man so considerate to his wife. She has admitted to me
that he has always been in love with her, and did not believe
that one could have more spirit than he had. Truth to tell, it
was no great matter for him to be considerate, for she herself
was never one to wish for anything but what was reasonable.
But she vows that if she had been left until she was twenty,
and had she not been obliged to marry, she would have remained
unwed. And I think her fully capable of this resolution, when
I reflect that from the age of twenty she no longer desired to go
to the assemblies at the Louvre, a strange enough circumstance
for one who was young and beautiful and a person of quality.
(At the state entry which was to have been made for the Queen-
Mother when Henry IV had been crowned, Mme de Rambouillet
was one of the beauties who were to take part in the ceremony.)
She used to say that the only pleasure she found there was
watching how people thronged to enter in, and that sometimes
38

M*AT><A{ME <D£ RAMBOUILLET
it came about that she would place herself in a room to amuse
herself with the wretched ordering of such things that prevails
in France. It was not that she had no taste for diversion,
but she preferred it in private.
She has always loved what was beautiful, and was going to
learn Latin, merely that she might read Virgil, when an illness
prevented her. Since then she has thought no more of it, and
has been content with Spanish. She has abilities in all manner
of things. She was herself the architect of the H6tel de Ram
bouillet, which was the house of her father. Dissatisfied with
all the designs made for her (it was in the time of the Marshal
d'Ancre, for then people knew nothing, except to make a hall
at one side, a room at the other, and a staircase in the middle:
moreover, the place was irregular and of quite small dimensions),
she exclaimed one evening, after a long meditation about it,
" Quick ! Paper ! I've found the way of doing what I wanted."
And forthwith she sketched out the plan of it. For she could
draw, of course, and having once seen a house she can work
out its plan with the greatest of ease : whence it came that she
waged war with Voiture because he never retained anything of all
the fine buildings he saw, and this gave rise to the ingenious
jesting which he addressed to her on the castle of Valentino.
The design of Mme de Rambouillet was followed from point
to point. It is from her that people learned to set the staircases
on one side to allow a great suite of rooms, to raise partitions
higher, and to make doors and windows high and wide and
opposite each other. So true is this that the Queen-Mother,
when she had the Luxembourg built, bade the architects go to
see the Hotel de Rambouillet; and they were repaid for their
pains. She was the first who thought of having a room painted
in any colour other than red or tan: whence the name given to
her principal apartment — the " Blue Room."
I have remarked elsewhere that Madame la Princesse and
the Cardinal La Valette were great friends of hers. Indeed,
the Hotel de Rambouillet was, so to speak, the theatre of all
diversions, and the meeting-place of all that was most gallant
at court and all that was finest among the talents of the age.
Well, although Cardinal Richelieu was under the greatest
possible obligation to Cardinal La Vallette, he wished nevertheless
to know all his thoughts as well as he might those of another;
and one day, when M. de Rambouillet was in Spain, he sent
Father Joseph to visit Mme de Rambouillet. Without any
pretence, he brought her to converse of this embassy, and
39

MIUiJ^ITURE PORTRAITS
afterwards told her that, since her husband was employed in a
negotiation of some import, the Cardinal could take the oppor
tunity of doing him some considerable service, but that she should
contribute something on her side, and give His Eminence a
small satisfaction which he desired of her; he pointed out that
a minister could not take too many precautions; in a word,
he declared that the Cardinal was anxious to have information
through her of the intrigues of Madame la Princesse and Cardinal
La Vallette. " Father Joseph," she said to him, " I do not believe these
two persons have any intrigues; but, had they any, I should
not be a fitting person to play the part of spy."
He made a false move: no one in the world was less self-
seeking than she. She declares she knows of no greater pleasure
in the world than sending money to people without their knowing
whence it comes. She goes far beyond those who say that
giving is a King's pleasure : she says it is a pleasure of God.
In telling me this little tale of Father Joseph, she remarked
(for there is no one in the world more upright) that she would
suffer ecclesiastics as gallants even less than other men. " 'Tis
one ofthe reasons," she added, " why I am very glad not to have
stayed in Rome. For, although I was very certain of doing no
ill, yet I was not certain that no ill was said of me; and apparently,
if it had been said of me, malice would have set me with some
cardinal." Never was there a better friend. M. d'Andilly, who liked
to be thought a teacher of friendship, told her one day that he
wished to instruct her fully in this fair science, and gave her
some prolix lessons. But, to cut it short with one stroke, she
said to him: " Far from not doing everything possible for my
friends, if I knew that there were some honourable man in the
farther Indies, I should endeavour, without knowing any more
of him than that, to do for him all that would be to his advantage."
" What! " exclaimed M. d'Andilly. " You know so much as
that! Then I have no more to explain to you."
Mme de Rambouillet is still, at the present day, of a humour
to find diversion in everything. One of her greatest pleasures
was to surprise people. On one occasion she afforded M. de
Cospean, Bishop of Lisieux, a pleasure which he did not expect.
He went to see her at Rambouillet. At the foot of the castle
there lies a very large meadow, in the midst of which, by a freak
of nature, stands a rough circle of large rocks ; between them rise
tall trees, casting a very agreeable shade. (It is the place where
40

MADAME T>E RAMBOUILLET
Rabelais amused himself, according to the talk of the district;
for Cardinal du Bellay, to whom he was attached, and the Ram-
bouillets, as close kinsmen, used often to go and pass the time
at this house, and there is one hollow and smoked rock which
still at the present time is called " Rabelais's stew-pan.") Well,
the Marquise proposed to M. de Lisieux to go for a walk in the
meadow, and being come near enough to these rocks to see
through the leafiness of the trees, he caught sight here and there
of something gleaming. Approaching nearer, he fancied that
he discerned some women clad as nymphs. The Marquise,
at first, pretended to see nothing of what he saw. At last,
coming right up to the rocks, they discovered Mme de Ram
bouillet and all the young girls of the house clad as nymphs;
and, seated on the rocks, they made the most delightful spectacle
in the world. The good gentleman was so charmed by it that
ever since he has never seen the Marquise without talking of
the rocks of Rambouillet.
If her estate had been such as to allow of great spending,
she would certainly have prepared more costly treats. I have
heard her say that the greatest pleasure she could have would
have been to build a fine house at the end of the park at Ram
bouillet, in such secrecy that none of her friends had any inkling
of it (and with a little care this would not be impossible, for the
place is remote enough and the park one of the largest in France,
and a good musket-shot's distance from the castle, which is
itself only an old-fashioned edifice) ; that there she would have
brought her best friends to Rambouillet, and next day, when
strolling in the park, would have suggested going to see a fine
house which one of her neighbours had built some time back;
" and then, after many roundabout ways," she said, " I would
have brought them into my new house, which I would have shown
them without one of my own household appearing, but only
people they had never seen : and in the end I would have begged
them to stay a few days in this delightful place, whose master
was a close. enough friend of mine for him to think naught of it.
And I leave you to imagine," she added, " what their astonish
ment would have been when they learned that all this secrecy
had only been to give them an agreeable surprise! "
She once caught the Comte de Guiche, now Marshal de
Grammont, in a pretty trap. He was still young when he began
frequenting the Hotel de Rambouillet. One evening he was
taking leave of the Marquise, when M. de Chaudebonne, the
most intimate friend of Mme de Rambouillet, and on very
41

MI^JzATURE PORTRAYS
familiar terms with him, said to him : " Don't go, Count. Take
supper here."
"Gracious!" exclaimed the Marquise, "are you joking?
Do you want to make him die of hunger ? "
" 'Tis my lady who is joking," went on Chaudebonne.
" Stay, I beg you."
And stay he did, in the end.
Then, at that moment (for all was concerted), Mile Paulet
arrived, along with Mme de Rambouillet. Supper was served.
But on the table there was nothing but what the count disliked,
for in their talking, they had made him declare all his aversions.
Amongst other things were a milk soup and a fat turkey-cock,
and most admirably did Mile Paulet play her part.
" Never, my lord," she said, " was there such a fine milk
soup: does that helping of yours meet your taste?" And
again: "Lord bless us! This splendid turkey! 'Tis tender
as a woodcock! — But you're not eating the breast pieces I gave
you: you must have something from the little places under the
backbone." And she was all eagerness to serve him, and he, to thank her.
He was covered with confusion, and knew not what to think
of such a poor supper. He crumbled bread between his fingers.
But at last, when every one had been amused by the game,
Mme de Rambouillet called to the major-domo, saying: " Bring
us something else. My lord can find nothing to his taste here."
So then a magnificent supper was served, but not without
much laughter.
Another trick was played on him at Rambouillet. One
evening when he had been eating heavily of mushrooms, they
got hold of his valet, and, obtaining from him all the doublets
ofthe costumes which his master had brought with him, promptly
took them in with needle and thread. In the morning Chaude
bonne went to see him as he was dressing. But when he wanted
to don his doublet, he found it too narrow by four good inches.
" This doublet's very tight," said he to his servant. " Give
me the one I had yesterday."
But he found it no roomier than the other.
" Let's try them all," he said. But all were equally tight
for him. "What is it?" he asked. "Have I swollen out? Can
it be from eating too many mushrooms? "
" That is quite possible," said Chaudebonne. " You ate
a great bellyful of them last evening." And everybody who came
42

<M*sfDAM£ T>E RAMBOUILLET
to see him said the same. And note what the power of imagina
tion can do: he had, as you may imagine, a hue as healthy as the
evening before, but none the less he detected, as it seemed to him,
something livid in his colour.
Just then the bell rang for Mass, for it was a Sunday, and
he was forced to go there in a dressing-gown. Mass over, he
began to grow concerned over this swelling, and said with a
shivering sort of laugh: "A fine end that would be, to die
at one-and-twenty from eating mushrooms! " It was plain
that it was going too far, so Chaudebonne said that meanwhile
an antidote could be had, that he thought a certain receipt
which he remembered should be compounded. He started
writing it at once, and handed it to the count. It read :
Take a pair of good scissors,
and unstitch your doublets.
Well, some time afterwards, as if to avenge the count,
Mile de Rambouillet and M. de Chaudebonne did actually eat
some bad mushrooms, and no one knows what might have hap
pened had not Mme de Rambouillet discovered some theriac
in a cupboard which was searched at hazard.
Mme de Rambouillet has had six children: Mme de
Montausier, the eldest of all; Mme d'Hyeres, the second;
M. de Pisani was afterwards. (There was a well-made boy
who died of the plague at eight years old. His governess
went to see some plague-stricken person, and on coming thence
was foolish enough to kiss this child, and both she and he died
of it. Mme de Rambouillet, Mme de Montausier and Mile
Paulet nursed him to his last breath.) Then came Mme de
Saint-Etienne, then Mme de Pisani. All the daughters are
in religious orders, except the first and the last, who is Mile
de Rambouillet. M. de Pisani came into the world fair, white, and straight,
but he had his spine displaced in infancy without its being known,
and he became so deformed that it was impossible to fashion a
breastplate for him. He was spoilt by this circumstance, even
to the features of his face, and he remained very small, which
seemed the more strange as his father, his mother, and his sisters
are all tall. Time was when they used to say, " the fir-trees of
Rambouillet," because there were I know not how many brothers
of tall stature and none of them ever stout.
But, to make up, M. de Pisani had wit and courage in plenty.
43

MIWJtATURE PORTRAITS
From fear of being made an ecclesiastic, he was never eager in his
studies, and was not even willing to read much in French.
He only began to develop some taste for it when those eight
orations of Cicero were printed in translation, three by M.
d'Ablancourt, and one by M. Patru. These he liked and read
constantly. He reasoned as if he held all the logic of the world
in his head. He had an agile wit, and among women he was
often more welcome than the best shaped figures. In women
and gaming he took pleasure to excess. Once, in order to have
some money, he persuaded his father and mother, who had only
spent one night at Rambouillet in twenty-eight years, that
there was some dead wood in the park which ought to be taken
away. Thus gaining permission, he had six hundred bundles
of the very best wood cut down.
In argument with Monsieur le Prince (they were often in
argument), he said: " Make me a prince of the blood in your
stead, and have all the reasons in the world on your side: I
shall always win over you! " He was eager to follow the prince
in all his campaigns, although he was a terrible figure on horse
back, the Marquis de Pisani. They used to call him the camel
of burden for Monsieur le Prince. In the end he was killed,
at the battle of Nordlingen. He was on the Marshal Gram-
mont's flank, which was broken. The Chevalier de Grammont
called out to him: " Come this way, Pisani, it's the safest! "
But apparently he had no mind to escape in such bad company,
for the chevalier was ill-reputed for his courage, and going
in another direction he met with some Croats, who slew him.
I must tell one pleasing tale of him. Mme de Rambouillet,
whose feelings are extremely fine, used to say that nothing was
more ridiculous than a man in bed, and that a night-cap is a
mighty foolish head-dress. Mme de Montausier had an even
greater dislike for night-caps, but Mile d'Arquenay, now the
abbess of Saint Etienne at Rheims, was the most ardent foe of
this hapless head-gear. One day her brother sent to beg her to
come into his apartment. No sooner there, than all of a sudden
five or six men emerged from an anteroom — all with night
caps; these, indeed, had very white coiffes, for night-caps
without such would have been capable of making the lady die
of terror. She cried out, and sought to flee. " Heavens,
sister! " said he, "think you that I wished to trouble you to
come hither for nothing ? No, no : you will join me in my meal,
I beg." And willy-nilly she had to sit down at table and partake
of the meal served to them by these fellows in night-caps !
44

M^fD^fME T>£ RAMBOUILLET
After this, until the grave wound he received at Montansais
in 1652, the Marquis de Montausier, informed of this aversion,
never wore a night-cap when sleeping with his wife, although
she begged him to use one. From this comes the saying that
the true precieuse has a dread of night-caps.
Voiture and M. de Pisani were close friends. On one
occasion the latter, during a severe frost, said to someone:
" And to think that I have but one shirt! " " Oh, and how do
you manage? " said the other." " Manage! " he answered,
" I just shiver with cold all the time."
There was a stout beggar-man at one gate of the H6tel de
Rambouillet, and one day, as he asked alms of her, Mme de
Rambouillet said to M. de Pisani, " You should give something
to this poor fellow." " Not likely," said he. " I want to borrow
money from him. I've heard that he owns above a thousand
crowns." But let us return to Mme de Rambouillet's pleasure in
surprising people.
She had a large room built with three tall windows, looking
in three directions, on to the garden of the Quinze-Vingts
hospital for the blind, on to the garden of the Hotel de Chev-
reuse, and on to the garden of the Hotel de Rambouillet. This
she had constructed, painted and furnished without its being
noticed by any of the countless persons who were always fre
quenting the house. The workmen had to cross over the
bounding wall to go and work from the other side, for the room
projects into the garden of the hospital. Only one person,
M. Arnould, had the curiosity to climb upon a ladder which
he found leaning against the garden wall, but someone called
out to him when he had only reached the second rung, and then
it passed out of his mind.
So one evening, then, when there was a great assemblage
at the Hotel de Rambouillet, a sound was heard of a sudden
from behind the tapestries, a door opened, and Mile de Ram
bouillet, now Mme de Montausier, in a gorgeous dress, was
visible in a large and most magnificent apartment, marvellously
well lighted. You may imagine every one's surprise. For
all they knew, there was nothing behind the tapestried wall but
the garden of the Quinze-Vingts,1 and now, without their having
the faintest suspicion, they beheld a room, beautiful, well painted,
and of considerable size: it seemed to have been brought thither
by magic! A few days later, M. Chapelain secretly had a scroll of vellum
45

MM(I*ATURE PORTRAITS
attached to it; on it was inscribed that ode in which Zyrphea,
Queen of Angennes, declares that she has made this bower to
shelter Arthenice from the ravaging years: for, as we shall be
showing, Mme de Rambouillet had many infirmities. Would
anyone have believed, after this, that a gentleman could have
been found (and descended, to boot, from no less a one than
Godefroy de Bouillon) who had respect neither for Zyrphea
nor for the great Arthenice, but actually robbed this chamber,
which was called " Zyrphea's Bower," of one of its greatest
beauties? For M. de Chevreuse took it into his head to build
some sort of wardrobe-room, by which the garden window was
blocked. He was reproached for this, but only replied: " 'Tis
true that M. de Rambouillet is a good neighbour of mine, and
that I even owe him my life. But where would he have me put
my clothes? " Note that he had forty rooms already!
After the death of M. de Rambouillet, Mme de Montausier
converted her father's chamber into an apartment both magni
ficent and agreeable. When it was completed, she wished to
dedicate it, and to this end offered a supper there to her mother.
She, her sister Mile de Rambouillet, and Mme de Saint-Etienne,
who was then a religious, waited on her at table, without a single
man (not even M. de Montausier) being allowed to enter. Mme
de Rambouillet herself also did something to her apartment
neither less beautiful nor less finely carried out. And I recall
how the mother and daughter used to be told, when so many
alcoves and oratories were seen, that every year they took some
thing away from the Hotel de Chevreuse to avenge the insult
done to Zyrphea.
It is time now to speak of the infirmities of Mme de Ram
bouillet. She has one which ought to be recorded in detail,
so to speak ; it has made many, who only see things at a distance,
believe that it was nothing but imagination.
When Mme de Rambouillet was thirty-five or thereabouts,
she noticed that the fire heated her blood in a strange manner,
and caused a certain weakness in her. Being fond of warming
herself, she did not altogether cease doing so on this account,
but, on the contrary, when the cold returned, she was anxious
to see whether her weakness would persist. She found that
it was worse. She tried again in the following winter, but could
no longer approach the fire. A few years later the sun brought
on the same troubles in her, but she refused to yield, for no one
ever had greater enjoyment in walking and surveying the delight-
46

MADAME T)E RAMBOUILLET
ful parts of the country-side of Paris. But nevertheless she had
to renounce these pleasures, in sunshine at least, for once,
wishing to go to Saint-Cloud, she had hardly reached the entrance
of the Cours when she fainted, and the blood was visibly seen
boiling in her veins, for she has a skin of great delicacy.
With age her infirmity grew worse. I have seen her stricken
with erysipelas from a stove having been forgetfully left beneath
her bed. So here she is, constrained to remain almost always
indoors, and never to warm herself. Necessity made her borrow
from the Spaniards the device of alcoves, which are so much in
vogue in Paris nowadays. The company go and warm them
selves in the anteroom. In frosty weather she sits in bed with
her legs in a bearskin bag, and she remarks pleasingly, on account
of the great mass of head- gear which she wears in winter-time,
that she becomes deaf on St Martin's Day, and recovers her hear
ing at Easter. During the long and severe cold spells of last
winter, she took the risk of kindling a small fire in a little fire
place which was fitted into her small alcove room. A great
screen was put beside the bed, which, placed further away than
usual, only received from it a very tempered heat. But none
the less that did not last long, for in the end she was affected
by this as well. And this summer, when it was extremely hot,
she thought herself like to die of it, although her house was
very cool.
On her last visit to Rambouillet, before the barricades,
she composed some prayers there for her private use, which
are very well written. She gave them to M. Conrart to have
them copied by Jarry, the man who imitates printed type, and
has the finest handwriting in the world. He caused them to be
copied on vellum, and after having them bound as handsomely
as he could, he presented them to their author. Jarry made a
naive remark about them. " Pray, sir," said he, " leave me
a few of these prayers, for in the Books of Hours which I have
to copy sometimes, there are some so foolish that I am ashamed
to transcribe them."
On that visit to Rambouillet she carried out something
very pretty in the park, but refrained from breaking a word
of it to those who were to see it. I was caught like the rest.
Chavaroche, the steward of the household, formerly tutor of the
Marquis de Pisani, was charged with showing it to me. He
led me in very roundaboutwise to a spot where I heard a loud
noise, like a great waterfall. Now, Ihad always heard it said
that there was only still water in the grounds of Rambouillet, so
47

MIUiJtATURE PORTRAITS
imagine my surprise when I beheld a cascade, a jet and a sheet
of water in the pool into which the cascade fell, then another
basin with a great turmoil of water, and at the end of that a large
square with a jet of extraordinary height and volume, with yet
another expanse leading all this water into the meadowland,
where it disappeared. Add to this, that all I have just described
is in the shade of the most beautiful trees in the world. All this
water came from a great pond in the park, on a higher level than
the rest, and she had had it led by a pipe emerging from the earth
just so that the cascade burst forth from between the branches
of an oak, and the trees behind this had been so cunningly
interlaced that it was impossible to detect the pipe. The
Marquise caused the work to be hurried on with the utmost
diligence, in order to surprise M. de Montausier, who was to go
thither. On the eve of his arrival, when darkness fell, they were
obliged to place lanterns on the branches and light up the work
men with torches; but, over and above the pleasure she had
from the beautiful effect given by all these lights between the
leaves of the trees and in the water of the pools and the great
square basin, she had a rare joy from the astonishment of the
Marquis next day, when so many delights were shown to him.
Mme de Rambouillet has always affected, rather too much,
to have the power of divining certain things. She has described
to me several matters divined or foretold by her. When the
late King was in extremis, people kept on saying: " The King
will die to-day," and then, " The King will die to-morrow."
" No," said she, " he will not die until Ascension Day, as I said
a month ago." On the morning of that day he was said to be
somewhat better, but she maintained that he would die before
the day was out, and in point of fact he did die that evening.
(She also told Madame la Princesse that she would be brought
to bed on Lady Day.) She could not abide the King. He was
singularly displeasing to her, and everything he did seemed to
her against all rules of fitness. Mile de Rambouillet used to
say: " I am always afraid lest my mother's aversion from the
King may prove her undoing."
She divined once, looking out of the window in the country,
that a certain man coming along on horseback was an apothecary.
She sent to ask him, and it turned out to be true.
Mme de Rambouillet is somewhat too fond of paying compli
ments to certain people who are scarcely worth her trouble.
But 'tis a fault that few persons have nowadays, for civility hardly
exists any longer. She is a shade over-delicate in her taste;
48

M^fD^ME T)£ RAMBOUILLET
certain words, in a satire or an epigram, will give her, she says,
unpleasant ideas; and there are some which no one would dare
to pronounce in her presence. This is carried too far, especially
when freedom is the rule. Her husband and she lived rather too
much on ceremony.
Except for a slight trembling of the head, which comes of
her formerly having eaten ambergris to excess, she is not yet dis
pleasing in person.2 She has a fine complexion, and foolish
folk have declared that it was on this account that she would
never come near a fire : as if there were no such things as screens !
She said that what she longed for most for her person, would
be to be able to warm herself to her heart's content. She went
to the country last winter, the weather being neither hot nor cold,
but that was a rare happening, and it was but half a league out of
Paris. An illness turned her lips an ugly colour, and thereafter
she always applied rouge to them. I should have preferred her
to leave them untouched. Otherwise, her mind is as clear and
her memory as sound as if she were but thirty.
It is from her that I have had the greatest and best part
of all I have written, and shall write, in this book. She reads
a whole day long without the slightest distress, and this is her
chief diversion. I find her rather too well persuaded (to say
nothing worse) that the family of the Savellis is the best in the
world. 1 More strictly, it was an enclosure behind the garden. She managed things
so well that she was permitted to plant an alley of sycamores under her windows,
and to sow hay under them. She boasts of being the only person in Paris who
can see, from her window, a field being scythed. [T.j
2 She lived to be seventy-eight years of age, and had nothing repellent about
her. [T.]

49

MADAME DE MONTAUSIER
AND HER DAUGHTER1

HE name of Madame de Montau
sier is Julie Lucine d'Angennes.
Lucine is the name of a saint who
belonged to the Savelli family.
Her mother and grandmother both
bore it, and it was customary in the
family for this name to be added to
that given to the daughters at
baptism. After Helen, there has scarcely
been anyone whose beauty has been
more widely sung. But she was
never a beauty. True, she has still
a commanding figure. In her youth, it is said, she was not too
thin, and had a fine complexion. This being so, I am willing
to believe that, dancing admirably as she does, and always
having wit and grace, she was an extremely lovable person.
Her portraits will give evidence of what I have just said.
She has had lovers of various kinds, Voiture and M. de
Montausier himself the chief ones. Voiture was rather a suitor
by gallantry, more for amusement than anything, and had to put
up with many a rebuff from her. But M. de Montausier
languished with a constancy that lasted more than thirteen years.
The letters of Voiture, his verses, those of M. Arnauld, all
speak constantly of the marvellous spirit of Mile de Rambouillet.
Mile de Bourbon, who was much younger and still but a child,
used to torment her every day to tell her stories, and Mile de
Rambouillet, having exhausted all the tales she had managed to
find, thought then of composing one of her own. Whereupon
she wrote that tale of Zelide and Alcidalis which is several times
mentioned in Voiture's letters. It is said that she invented it
during a sleepless night, and that Voiture undertook to put it into
writing. He did the greater part of it, but I have not yet been
able to see it, as it was taken by some carelessness to Angouleme.
It could scarcely be well written, for Voiture was incapable
5°

MME T>E MO$(T<AUSISR^ cAJ^D HER^ T)<AUQHTER^
of any style other than one of mockery or light-hearted gallantry.
I am assured that there is nothing better so far as invention
goes : and if this is so, and the story falls into my hands, I shall
try to reshape it or fashion it completely afresh.
Three or four years before he married her, M. de Montausier
sent her Julia's Garland. This is one of the most splendid
pieces of gallant courtship that ever was. All its flowers were
illuminated upon vellum, and the verses also written upon
vellum, following each flower, and the whole in that beautiful
script of Jarry I spoke of. The frontispiece of the book is a
garland, in the middle of which is the title :
Julia's Garland,
for
Mademoiselle de Rambouillet,
Julie Lucine d'Angennes.
And on the following page is a Zephyr scattering flowers. The
book is all covered with monograms of Mile de Rambouillet,
and is bound inside the covers as well as out with Levant morocco,
instead of there being only marbled paper inside, as other books
have. Over this there is a covering of frangipani.
Mile de Rambouillet received this offering, and even thanked
all those who had penned verses for her. There was nobody,
even to the Marquis de Rambouillet himself, who had not done
so. A madrigal (of sorts) of her father's is to be found there.
Only Voiture, who did not like a crowd, did not write a madrigal
of some kind. True, he and M. de Montausier never saw
exactly eye to eye, but his silence was not due to that circumstance
only, for on the death of the Marquis de Pisani, his great friend,
he wrote nothing either, although so many people composed
verses thereon.
[M. de Montausier and Mile de Rambouillet were married
in 1645.] Let us say something of their little daughter. This child,
for she is still but eleven years old, has said the most charming
things ever since she was weaned.
One day a fox belonging to M. de Grasse was brought to her
father's. As soon as she saw it, she clasped her necklace tight,
and, being asked why, replied: " For fear the fox will rob me:
they're so clever in ./Esop's fables." 51

MIViJ^TURE PORTRAITS
And a few months later she was told, " Look, here is the fox's
master: what do you think of him? "
" Oh," said she, " he looks to me even cleverer than his fox."
When she was perhaps six years old, M. de Grasse asked
her how long her big doll had been weaned.
" And how long since you were? " she asked, " for you're
scarcely any bigger yourself."
On account of her aunt's smallpox, she was placed in a neigh
bouring house. A lady who saw her there asked her: " And
your dolls, mademoiselle? Did you leave them in that infected
air?" " The big ones, madame," she answered, " I did not take
away; but I brought the little ones with me."
Speaking of dolls, the little Des Reaux child once went to see
her, when she was perhaps seven years old. The former is a
couple of years younger. Mile de Montausier made as if to
treat the other as a mere child, and said to her as she displayed
her dolls to her: " Come, let's put this one to sleep."
" Oh," said the other, " I know what you mean by that."
" No, no," she went on. " They really do sleep, you know."
" Pooh! " replied the other, " I know quite well that dolls
don't sleep a bit."
" Oh, but they do : they really sleep, believe me. It's as
true as true."
" Oh, very well, then," said the little Des Reaux girl, " they
do sleep, if you like." And as she came away, she said : " I won't
go back there: she takes me for a child! "
To a gentleman, a friend of her father's, she said once: " I
don't want you to kiss me in imagination only."
On her repeating often the same story, Mme de Montausier
said to her: " Fi! where did you learn that? "
" Wait a minute," said the child,, " wasn't it from grand
mamma Montausier? " Which turned out to be true.
She used to say that she wanted to write a comedy. " But,
grandmamma," she added, " we must get Corneille to run an
eye through it before we play it."
A certain page of her father's was overfond of the bottle,
and one day got drunk. Next day she was eager to reprimand
him herself. " You see," she said to him, " in all this kind of
thing, I am just like papa: you'll find nothing to choose
between us."
She was bidden " to eat up this soup for my sake."
" I'll take it," said she, " for my own sake, and not for yours."
52

MME DE MODtTzAUSIER^ <ANT) HER^ T>^fUQHTER^
One day she took a little chair and seated herself beside
the bed of Mme de Rambouillet. " Now then, grandmamma,"
she said, " let us have a talk about matters of state, now that I'm
five years old." True, at that time there was very little talk
except about the Fronde.
M. de Nemours, then Archbishop of Rheims, told her that
he wanted to marry her. " Monsieur," said she, " you had
better keep your archbishopric: 'tis worth more than me."
She was only five years old when someone wanted her to
hold an infant at the font. The cure of Saint-Germain refused
to let her, saying that she was not yet seven. " Question her,"
they said to him. Which he did before a hundred persons,
and she answered with great assurance. He accepted her and
praised her very highly.
One day she was lying in bed with Mme de Rambouillet,
and M. de Montausier wanted to touch her. " Stop> papa,"
she said, " gentlemen do not put their hands in grandmamma's
bed." She was the consolation of her poor grandmother when the
latter lived alone in Paris. On the death of M. de Rambouillet,
the child was deeply touched to see her so sad. " Take com
fort, grandmamma," said she, " it is God's will: do you not wish
the will of God to be done ? " Of her own accord she bethought
her of having masses said for him. " Oh! " said her governess,
" if your poor grandfather, who loved you so much, could only
know that! " " Oh, but how should he not know? " she said,
" is he notwith God? "
When barely nine, she read the Feast of Flowers in Cyrus,
and thought she would give a representation of it with the girls
of the house. So, when Mme de Rambouillet was furthest
from having such thoughts in her head, this child, to afford
her some diversion, came with her companions, all in garlands,
and heaped up at her feet a veritable mound of flowers.
It is a pity that she has a cast in her eyes, for her mind is as
straight as could be. Otherwise, she is well made and tall.
Latterly, she has spoilt herself somewhat, in mind and body.
1 Excerpts only from a fairly long Historiette — and chosen chiefly for the sake
of Madame 's little daughter.

53

MADAME DE MONTBAZON

LDEST daughter of the Comte de
Vertus and his countess, Marie de
Bretagne was still very young and
was under religious vows, when
old Montbazon married her. From
this second circumstance he used
always to call her " my little nun."
He wrote a letter about it to the
Queen-Mother, or rather he copied
one, for it was so sensible that
it must have been written by
a cleverer hand than his. The
substance of it was that he knew
well what lot this threatened to a man of his age, but that he hoped
the example given by Her Majesty would always keep her within
the bounds of duty, etc.
She was one of the most beautiful persons one could see,
and a great ornament to the Court. She outdid all others at the
ball, and in the opinion of the Poles, at the marriage of Princess
Marie, she still bore off the palm, although more than thirty-five
years of age. But for my own part, I would not have shared
their opinion: she had a large nose and her mouth was rather
deeply set ; she was a colossus, and even at that date was already
growing too stout, and was too buxom by half, and although her
bosom was white and firm enough, it was no whit the less con
spicuous for that. She had a very white complexion and very
dark hair, and a great majesty of bearing.
In her extreme youth, at the time she appeared at Court,
she used to declare that one was good for nothing at thirty,
and that when she reached that age she wished to be flung into
the river. You may guess whether she lacked admirers. M. de
Chevreuse, son-in-law of M. de Montbazon, was one of the
earliest: on which circumstance there was a song ending thus:
Mais il fait cocu son beau-pbre
Et lui depense tout son bien.
Tout en disant ses patenStres,
II fait ce que lui font les autres.
54

MtADzAME T>£ MOO^TB^ZO^
M. de Montmorency sang the couplets to M. de Chevreuse in
the Court of the King's house: at Saint-Germain, I think it
was. " 'Tis too much! " exclaimed M. de Chevreuse, and drew
his sword. The other did likewise, but the guards did not treat
them as they had the power to do, on account of their position,
and they were mollified. M. d'Orleans loved her, and likewise
the Comte de Soissons. He once made a tale of it to the Prin-
cesse de Guemene', the daughter-in-law of M. de Montbazon
and rival of the duchess. She made him promise, according to
what I have been told, to play a trick on Mme de Guemene^
which was, to make pretence of having just that instant donned
his clothes when some people were coming in. He did so, and
afterwards asked the fair one's pardon for it.
Bassompierre attempted her conquest, but could have nothing
for his pains: why, I know not.
Hocquincourt, now Marshal of France, is among those who
have been most spoken of. When the enemy took Corbie,
there was a rumour abroad that Piccolomini had declared that if
he reached Paris he desired Mme de Montbazon for his booty.
So, to have the laugh against this true son of Picardy, who was
for ever making declarations and who has no common sense,
a written challenge was drawn up from Hocquincourt to the
Imperial general, with the reply. The challenge read as follows :
M. d' Hocquincourt, governor of Peronne, Montdidier
and Roye,
to Piccolomini, lieutenant-general of the armies of the
Emperor in Flanders :
Know that, unable longer to tolerate the cruelties
practised within my regions of governance, I desire to
obtain satisfaction by the effusion of your blood. I have
chosen the spot whereat I wish to see you, sword in hand.
My trumpeter shall lead you thither. Fail not to attend
there, if you are a man of honour, with a blade of four feet
to put an end to our differences.
And the reply:
Monsieur d' Hocquincourt, remain in your governance.
I could wish for my satisfaction that you had been present,
as I have, at eleven battles and three-score and twelve
sieges of cities, so as to see you at a spot where I never
was but with delight, and whence I never returned but
with the advantage. 55

MIU^ItATURE PORTRAITS
But, in the state in which you are, I cannot hazard my
reputation against you without injuring that of my master
who has entrusted me with his armies. I have in my forces
two hundred captains, the very least of whom would deem
it beneath him to come to grips with you.
None the less, if you are obstinate in your purpose,
someone will be found who, in my estimation, will swallow
his self-esteem to that point.
Farewell, Monsieur d'Hocquincourt. Bate not your
vigilance. You know that I am not far from you, and
that I am as apt at surprising a position as at commanding
an army.
This same M. d'Hocquincourt, having gained the aid of a
serving-maid, placed himself under the bed of his fair one.
But by ill-luck old Montbazon happened to be in a pleasant
humour that evening, and came to bed with his wife. But
he had some little spaniels who forthwith sniffed out the gallant,
and forced him to emerge from his hiding-place. For such a
fool as he was, he got out of the embarrassment well enough.
" Indeed, my lord," said he, " I had hidden myself to know
whether you were as good company as they say! "
When he began to win her favour, he told her, in the fashion
of his countrymen, that he had no idea of being the bashful
lover, and that he must make an end at once, or seek his fortune
elsewhere. It is the correct way with a woman who has always
taken money or finery.
Roville was the next who left a good many feathers behind
him, and it has been said that Bonnel Bullion had been accepted
for his money: a satiric verse placed the price at five hundred
crowns. When the Duke of Weimar came here for the first time, he
was talking with the Queen on how he disposed of the booty,
and declared that he left it all to the soldiery and the officers.
" But," said the Queen to him, " suppose you were to take some
fair lady, Mme de Montbazon, for instance? " " Ho, ho! " he
answered with a malicious air, and in his German accent, " that
vould be a vine vench for the cheneral! "
One day she had the present M. de Soubise served up at table
in a bowl: he was a very fine infant, and was called the Comte
de Rochefort. One dared not say for certain that she painted herself, but
one day at the Hotel de Ville, when it was mighty hot weather,
56

MA>D<AME <DE MOO^TB^AZOO^
the Queen noticed something trickling down her face. It is
said, however, that she only put on the white on occasions of
solemnity, and that she removed it as soon as she returned. Her
intrigues and love affairs with M. de Beaufort, and her death,
will he found in my memoirs of the Regency. But I add here
that once, finding herself with child after she had borne enough,
she rushed at a gallop in a coach all over Paris, and said : " There,
I have just broken a child's neck."
There was a certain rhymester and singer, an extravagant
character of the name of d'Enhaut, who fell in love with her.
She was having a tooth pulled one day, when he cried: " O
wretched mortal that I am! All my teeth are in my head, and
one is to be torn from this divinity! " Forthwith he went and
had sixteen of them pulled out !

57

MONSIEUR DE MONTBAZON

F large build, M. de Montbazon,
Hercule de Rohan, was a fine
figure of a man, and in his youth
was very active. He had con
structed a building at Rochefort, a
couple of leagues from Paris, the
most extravagant creation that ever
was; it is a card-castle, with a
multitude of little turrets, lantern-
towers, sentry-boxes and little plat
forms: there is nothing appropriate
in the whole thing except the horns which are to be seen every
where ; they fit the master of the house in more ways than one,
for he was the chief huntsman of France.
In showing this house to people, he used to press the tip of
his finger against his forehead and say: " And here is the man
who built it." There is a portrait in the gallery in which he
appears with his father, who was blind, pointing a finger heaven
wards with a half-line of Virgil's: Disce puer, virtutem. Well,
this puer had the bushiest beard, very nearly, that ever I set eyes
on, and looked a full forty-five years old. Being a very simple
man, and one who said many foolish things, he was saddled,
and the Due d'Uzes also, with everything that was said in the
wrong place. (Of the Due d'Uzes it is affirmed that he was
asked once by the Queen when his wife would be brought to bed,
and answered: " When it may please your Majesty.") He
was so foolish as to go and tell the late King that the Queen
and Mme de Chevreuse were reading the Cabinet Satirique.
" Madame," he said to the Queen, " let me go and find my
wife; she is awaiting me, and as soon as she hears a horse,
she thinks 'tis myself."
He heard that in speaking of Saint Paul the phrase, " this
great vessel of election," was added; whereupon he imagined
that it was a large vessel called the Election, on board which
this apostle journeyed. " I think," said he, " the good ship
Election of Saint Paul must have been a fine vessel indeed."
The old fool, at the age of eighty, fell in love with a girl
58

M03(SI£UR^ T)E MOUiTB^IZOD^
who played with skill upon the lute. She confided the story
to Mme de Montbazon. The good man begged Mile de
Clisson, his wife's sister, to provide a dinner for the damsel
and himself, but declared that, as she had only one kitchen
woman, he would send her his cook with everything necessary.
But all he sent her was one small rabbit, and he brought eleven
people to her board. She knew his ways well, however, and
did not let herself be taken unawares. Mme de Montbazon
retired to bed, and the damsel went, on purpose, to where she
was, on pretence of going to find her bed. He followed her and
sat down. " Come and kiss me," he said. " Come yourself,"
said she. He repeated it, but she was immovable. He broke
into such a fury that he would have thrown her out of the window
if he had had the strength. Within a few years of that, he lost
his head over the daughter of his lodge-keeper at Rochefort,
and the child (she was no more) was constrained to do his will :
but hardly was she in bed before he made her rise again, reproach
ing her for not having said her prayers. The Marshal d'Ornano
would not have anything to do with a virgin, or with a woman
ofthe name of Mary, from the respect he bore towards the Mother
of God. It is said that he asked someone: " I know not what
more I can do to win Mme de Montbazon: suppose I were to
beat her a little? "
The good M. de Montbazon could never enter the Louvre
without asking what o'clock it was. Once he was told " eleven
o'clock," and thereupon he burst out laughing. " He would
have had a fine laugh," said M. de Candale, " if they had told
him it was twelve o'clock! "
On the door of a stable at Rochefort he had this inscription
placed: " On the Twenty-fifth Day of October, in the Year
One Thousand Six Hundred and Thirty-seven, I caused this
Door to be made, for entering into my Stable."
He died five or six years before his wife.

59

THE CARDINAL RICHELIEU

HE father of Cardinal Richelieu
was a gentleman of good standing.
He was the chief provost of the Hotel
and chevalier of the Order, but
he put his household into dire con
fusion. He had three sons and
two daughters, the elder of whom
was married to a gentleman of
Poitou, Vignerot by name, who
was a man dubice nobilitatis ; he
advanced himself at Court, how
ever, and was always seen about
with the great lords; he used to
play with M. de Crequi and M. de Bassompierre. The other
daughter married the Marquis de Brez6, later a marshal of France.
The eldest of the sons was a well-made man, and not lacking in
wit. He was ambitious, and wanted to spend more than he
could. He affected to pass for one of " the seventeen lords,"
as the seventeen most prominent courtiers were then called.
His wife, it is said, on being asked by a tailor in which style
he should fashion a dress for her, replied: " Do it as for the lady
of one of the seventeen lords." But, although he made great
play of lordship, and in fact was of good origins, he did not pass
for a man of quality : and this is a reason why Cardinal Richelieu
had such a concern for his nobility and his birth. This M. de
Richelieu won good standing for himself with Henry IV, who
wanted to know everything, recounting to the King the hap
penings of the Court and the town, for he took special care to
be informed thereupon. He was slain in a duel with the Marquis
de Themines, son ofthe marshal, at Angouleme, when the Queen-
Mother was there, and left no children. The second son was
Cardinal of Lyons, and the third, Cardinal Richelieu.
Their father had had his second son presented with the
bishopric of Lucon (a see of small worth), but he abandoned
this in order to become a Carthusian. The third son, destined
for the Church, stepped into the bishopric in his brother's stead.
When on the benches of the Sorbonne, he was ambitious enough
60

THE C<4%PINAL RIQHELIEU
to take a step without precedent: he dedicated his theses to
King Henry IV, and, although he was very young, he promised
the King in this letter to render him great services if ever he
were employed. It was noticed that he was ever seeking to
advance himself, and that he always sought to have the control of
affairs in his hands. (He went to Rome and was there con
secrated as bishop. The Pope asked him if he were of canonical
age. He answered yes ; and afterwards asked the Pope's absolu
tion for having told him that he was of proper age, when in
reality he was not. " This young man," said the pontiff,
" will be a great rogue.")
The States-General of 1 6 1 4, wherein he was deputy for the
clergy of Poitou, gave him an opening for the winning of a
reputation. He delivered several speeches which were found
admirable; at that time there was little familiarity with these
things. After the death of Henry IV, Barbin, the comptroller of the
treasury, who was a friend of Richelieu's, had him made secretary
of state through the Marshal d'Ancre. A rather spiteful
historian, named Toussaint Le Grain, in his history of the regency
of Marie de Medici, says that my lord of Lucon was the first
person whom the King met in the gallery after the Marshal
d'Ancre had been slain, and that he said to the bishop, " And
so I am delivered from your tyranny, my lord of Lucon! "
And when this was mentioned to Cardinal Richelieu, who had
come to be all-powerful, he thought it worth his while to suppress
this history. He had the copies sought out with great care,
and his search led to every one buying the book, and to people
knowing what otherwise would perhaps never have come to
their ears or eyes.
When the Queen-Mother was relegated to Blois, my lord
of Lucon was relegated to Avignon, that there should be no
communications between them. But when the late M. d'Esper-
non brought the Queen to AngoulSme, my lord of Lucon
appeared on the scene. It was there that he and the Abbe
de Ruccelai, a Florentine, were rivals during ten or twelve days
for the Queen-Mother's favour, and the abbe was on the point
of gaining over the bishop, had not M. d'Espernon, paramount
in that little court, opposed the Queen's inclination with all his
strength. The " folly " of Ponts-de-Ce came next. Baron de Fceneste
makes mock of it pleasantly enough, and the title given to this
fine expedition is good evidence that it was only a fire of straw.
61

MIUiJtATURE PORTRAITS
Bautru, of whom we shall have enough to say later on, and who
had a regiment of foot in the Queen-Mother's service, says
that when the wedding was celebrated between Mile du Pont-de-
Comlay and Combalet, to assure the friendship between MM.
de Luynes and my lord of Lucon, the cannon on the King's
side said " Combalet," and those on the Queen-Mother's said
" Pont-de-Comlay." M. de Luynes, against whom the Jesuit Father Arnoul was
beginning to do a bad turn with the King, died, and Father
Suffren, another Jesuit, confessor to the Queen-Mother, so
terrified the King for the treatment that had been meted out to
the Queen-Mother, that he already fancied the Devil had him
by the collar — for never did anyone love God less or fear Satan
more than did His late Majesty. So these two confessors
brought mother and son back to each other, and by this means
my lord of Lucon became insensibly the head of affairs, and
had the cardinal's hat.
When he had the Marshal d'Ornano arrested at Fontaine
bleau, Monsieur, whose tutor the marshal was, went at ten
o'clock in the evening to vent his wrath in the King's chamber,
frightening him, and telling him that he wished to know on
whose counsel it had been done. The King said it was on his
own counsel. Whereupon Monsieur sought out the chancellor,
Aligre, who answered trembling that it was not he. So back
came Monsieur, and stormed afresh. The King, not knowing
what to tell him, sent for the Cardinal, who said at once, and
with assurance, that it was he who advised the King to have the
Marshal d'Ornano arrested. " You filthy hellhound," said
Monsieur, and with these fine words walked off.
The Cardinal detested Monsieur, and feared lest, with the
poor health of the King, he might wear the crown. So he
planned to win over the Queen and to help her to produce a
dauphin. Towards this end he put her on bad terms with the
King and with the Queen-Mother, without her knowing how this
arose, to such a point that she was sorely ill-treated by one and
then the other. Then, through Mme de Fargis, lady of the ward
robe, he let her know that if she so desired he would soon help
her out of her present misery. The Queen, in no way believing
that it was he who caused her ill-treatment, imagined at first
that his help was proffered from pity for her lot, suffered him to
write to her, and even responded, for she did not think that the
intercourse would lead to anything but a simple piece of gallantry.
62

THE C^KPI^KAL RJ QHE LIEU
The Cardinal now saw a certain advance in his plan, and
proposed to her, through this same Mme du Fargis, that she
should consent to his taking the King's place beside her, pointing
out that if she had no children she would always be despised,
and that, as the King's health could not allow him the prospect
of a long life, she would soon be sent back to Spain. On the
other hand, if she had a son by the Cardinal, and the King were
to die soon, as was a certainty, she would rule along with him,
for his interests and hers would be identical, he being the father
of her child. As for the Queen-Mother, he would remove
her to a distance as soon as he received the favour he asked.
Emphatically, the Queen rejected this proposal; but it was
not desirable to enrage the Cardinal. He did all he could to have
sight of her once in bed, but could not gain his end.
(M. de La Rochefoucauld says that the Cardinal was deeply
in love with the Queen, and in his fury he wanted her repudia
tion, but that Mme d'Aiguillon prevented this. The Queen
was accused of communications with Mirabel, the Spanish
Ambassador, and Seguier, keeper of the seals, not only questioned
her, but even searched her, in a fashion ; for he put his hand into
her gown to see if she had not any letters, at least he looked in
there and almost touched her breast with his hand. In the
despair which he inflicted on her, she had once determined to
take flight for Brussels. The Prince de Marsillac, then a youth
of twenty, later M. de La Rochefoucauld of the Fronde, was to
take her behind him on horseback; Mme d'Hautefort was of the
party; Mme de Chevreuse, already banished to Tours, was to
escape into Spain if she was sent a Book of Hours bound in red —
if she was sent one bound in green, she was to stay where she
was. But the Queen decided not to go off; Mme d'Hautefort,
by accident, or having forgotten what the arrangement was,
sent off the red Hours. This was the cause of Mme de Chev
reuse disguising herself as a man, and going to the Prince de
Marsillac's house. He provided her with an escort of men.
This was also the cause of Marsillac's being imprisoned for some
time. Later, the Cardinal showed him favour and made him an
offer to receive him into the number of his friends. Marsillac
did not dare to accept this without the Queen's consent, which
she did not grant him.)
During this intrigue of the Cardinal, the Queen-Mother
cherished such a jealousy of the Queen that she quarrelled with
him outright. The Queen-Mother was anxious for domination,
and had had the King brought up in such a way that he was
63

MIO^ItATURE PORTRAITS
incapable of performing his duties for himself. (Not once
during the whole regency did she embrace the King.) She
had been afraid lest the Queen should have any mastery over his
mind, and, to prevent this princess from seeking to win her hus
band's affection, she caused to be put by her side Mme de
Chevreuse and Mme de La Vallette, two of the lightest heads to
be found at Court. Princess de Conti had also orders from the
Queen-Mother to keep an eye on all that went on around the
Queen, and she, although an old woman, had still some thoughts
of love in her head, and was pleased that gallantry reigned. It
was she who taught the Queen her coquetry.
There was talk at that time of the marriage of the Queen of
England. Lord Carlisle and Lord Holland, who were sent
here to treat of the match, told Buckingham, the King's favourite,
a man of romantical notions, that France had a Queen both
young and gallant, who would make a fine conquest. There
after there was some communication between them, with Mme
de Chevreuse, to whom Lord Holland told the matter, as go-
between, and the upshot was that when Buckingham arrived for
the Queen of England's wedding, the Queen-regnant was quite
disposed to receive him with favour. Certain gallantries passed,
but what was most bruited was an occasion when, the Court
having gone to Amiens to be so much the nearer to the coast,
Buckingham had the Queen quite alone in a garden: at least,
there was nobody but Mme du Vernet, sister of the late M. de
Luynes, a mistress of the Queen's wardrobe; but she was
cognisant of what was going forward and had removed herself
to a certain distance. The gallant duke used force against the
Queen: her person bore the marks of his broidered garments:
but in vain, for she cried out so often that the lady of the ward
robe, who was turning a deaf ear, was obliged to run to the rescue.
(A few days afterwards, the Queen-regnant having stayed behind
at Amiens, either because she was indisposed or because to accom
pany the Queen of England to the coast would only have been
embarrassing, Buckingham, who had taken his leave of the Queen
like the others, turned back when he had gone three leagues.
Nothing was further from the Queen's thoughts, when suddenly
she saw him kneeling by the head of her bed. He stayed there
awhile, kissed the edge of the sheets, and went away.)
The Cardinal grew suspicious of all the gallantries of Buck
ingham, and prevented him from returning to France as ambas
sador-extraordinary, as had been his plan. Unable to do any
better, he came there with a naval force to attack the lie de R6.
64

THE C^KPI^AL RJ CHE LIEU
On his arrival he captured a gentleman of Saintonge, Saint-
Surin by name, an able and intelligent man, and one who knew
a good deal of the Court. He showed him the greatest civility,
and, disclosed to him his love, brought him into the finest cabin
of his ship. The apartment was heavily gilded, the floor covered
with Persian rugs, and there was a kind of altar on which was
the portrait of the Queen, with several lighted candles. After
wards he restored the gentleman to liberty, on condition that he
went and told the Cardinal that Buckingham would retire and
hand over La Rochelle, agreeing beforehand, in a word, to any
terms whatsoever, provided that a promise were given of his
acceptance as ambassador to France. He gave him instructions
also to speak on his behalf to the Queen. Saint-Surin came to
Paris, and did as he had promised. He spoke to the Cardinal,
who threatened to have his throat cut if he spoke further of these
matters. Later, when the Queen learned of the death of Buck
ingham, she was manifestly affected by the news. At first she
refused to believe a word of it, and kept saying, " I have just
had letters from him."
Apparently the Cardinal already had in his head what I am
now going to recount. On the journey from Lyons, when
the King was so ill, the Queen-Mother beseeched the King, as a
favour, to dismiss the Cardinal. He promised her that he would
get rid of him when the German peace was concluded, but said
he had need of him until then. On his recovery the King
went off to Roanne, the Queen-Mother remaining at Lyons on
account of a pain in her foot. From Roanne the King wrote
to her that she should be restored to health, that he would soon
give her satisfaction, that the German peace was concluded, and
that he was sending the ratification of this.
(As a blind, he made up a council, and appointed Saint-
Chaumont a minister of state, for he did not want any men of
strength on it. Saint-Chaumont imagined that he was thus
honoured on account of his merits, and was vastly pleased.
Meeting Gordes, the captain of the bodyguard, he told him
of his appointment. " Ho, ho! " said Gordes, " you're jesting! "
And laughing uproariously, he went in and said to the King:
" Sire, Saint-Chaumont says that your Majesty has made him a
minister: some fool may believe that! ")
So delighted was the Queen-Mother with this news from
the King that in her excitement she had some bundles of wood
burnt, as it were a bonfire. The Cardinal knew it was she who
had made this fire, and had his suspicions that something was in
65 E

MINJ<ATUR£ PORTRAITS
the air. He pressed the King, who admitted everything, and
the Queen-Mother came to Roanne. The Cardinal approached
her while she was taking communion in church, and made a sign
to Saint-Germain to retire, he, as private chaplain, being near to
her. He adjured her to pardon him. She rebuffed him, but
he said to her: " Madame, I can make much else perish with
myself." From this came the rupture without rhyme or reason
of the Peace of Ratisbon. At Lyons, everybody — all the
cabals, that is to say — was against the Cardinal. On returning,
he had the Marshal de Marillac arrested, and the keeper of the
seals was taken to AngoulSme; M. de Chateauneuf had the keep
ing of the seals. This infuriated the Queen-Mother. The
Cardinal had approaches made to her more than once, and when
the first president of Verdun told her that His Eminence had
wept over this five different times, she answered: " It is no sur
prise to me: he weeps whenever he wants to." Bonneuil, too,
who presented the ambassadors, a man of piety but always in
adoration of the ministry, and commonly called " the pious
courtier," told the Queen-Mother that he had found the Cardinal
so shattered and so altered as to be unrecognisable. She said
that he changed as he wished, and that having appeared gay one
moment, he appeared half-dead the next. However, there was
a reconciliation of some kind. A short time afterwards came the
great cabal of the two queens, of Monsieur and the whole house
of Guise. In despair, the Cardinal wanted to retire, but Cardinal
La Vallette put heart into him again. M. de Rambouillet
won Monsieur, and as the Cardinal was believed to be lost, the
King declared himself for him. This is what was called the
" Day of Dupes." It was on Saint Martin's Day, on the return
from La Rochelle.
Mme du Fargis was dismissed on account of her cabals, and
not on account of her gallantries. She had allied herself with
Vaultier and Beringhen, now master of the small stables. For
some time she remained hidden in the neighbourhood of Paris,
but she was soon discovered, and forced to go further away.
I shall set down here what I know of Vaultier. A certain
Franciscan, Father Crochard, who followed M. de La Roche-
guyon everywhere, had him as a servant, he being a poor lad.
Mme de Guercheville made him a household physician with
the Queen-Mother, with a salary of three hundred livres. Well,
when she was at Angouleme, and when de Lorme had left her
at Aigres, in token of which he used to say, in his manner, that
she had said to him words more bitter 1 than the place they were
66

THE C^KPI^KylL RJCHELIEU
said at, she had need of a physician. None was to be found but
Vaultier, whose praises were sung by someone whom he had
treated with success. He cured her of an erysipelas, and after
wards succeeded so well and ingratiated himself so much with
her, that he was more in her favour than anyone else. Whence
came the Cardinal's great hatred towards him. He was a large,
well-built man, but with heavy shoulders, and had a very import
ant manner. He came from Aries. His mother made a living
by spinning, and it was said that he never helped her.
Cardinal Richelieu, in his feigned design to make one more
reconciliation with the Queen-Mother, sent for Vitray, now the
printer to the clergy, a man of good sense and claiming friendship
with Vaultier. He begged Vitray to exchange messages from
one side to the other. Vitray beseeched him to dispense him
from the duty, saying that often humble associates were sacrificed
to appease great powers. " No," replied the Cardinal. " Have
no fear." " Well," said Vitray, " since you wish me to have
this honour, do not leave me to surmise: tell me things in all
frankness." " Go and tell Vaultier that," added the Cardinal.
There were many comings and goings, and at last the matter
reached the point of the Cardinal telling Vaultier, through
Vitray, that there must be an interview at the house of Vitray
himself, and that, for fear of too much being noticeable, Father
Joseph would go in his place. But Vaultier answered: " It is a
trap. Afterwards the Cardinal will certainly warn the Queen-
Mother of this conversation, and tell her that I have dealings
with him or with his people. I should not be able," he added,
" to prevent the Queen-Mother from going to Compiegne."
Well, the Cardinal could ask nothing better than that Her
Majesty should be so foolish as to go to Compiegne, although he
made pretence of just the opposite, and would have offered every
thing to Vaultier, resolving to go as far even as a cardinal's hat.
For the Queen-Mother desired to rule, and was not content
merely with giving posts and benefices and having as much
money as she wanted. The Princess de Conti, and through her
all the family of Guise and M. de Bellegarde, pressed her without
ceasing to ruin the Cardinal. She went then to Compiegne.
There she was stopped, and Vaultier was ordered to return to
Paris. On the way he was taken and brought to the Bastille.
The Cardinal let Vitray know that he was greatly pleased with
his enterprise, and that he might see his friend as often as he
pleased. " I shall take good care not to," he answered. " He
is one who has had the misfortune to fall into the ill-favour of
67

MID^I^fTURE PORTRAITS
the Prince: I shall serve him enough without visiting him."
The Cardinal told him to go thither freely, and that he had
nothing to fear for himself. So he went. Vaultier said to him :
" I am very low at the moment, but some day I shall be the chief
physician to the King." This actually came about, but not as he
meant, for he thought it would be to the late King, whereas
it has been to a king not then born. We have seen him rich,
with twenty thousand crowns of income, living a rascally life,
and taking money from the sick whom he saw. Latterly he grew
ashamed of this and took no more.
To finish what I know of the Queen-Mother, I shall add that
even at Brussels she could not be safe from the devices of the
Cardinal designed to remove her further away; for she was still
near enough to be constantly making cabals against him. He
gave her to believe that if she broke with the Spaniards, he
would have her come back. So she feigned to go off to Spa,
and two thousand Dutch horse came to take her. It is said
that at this time her only goal was to enjoy the Luxembourg
and the Cours which she had had planted, without interfering
with anything. And so she foolishly left Brussels, where she
was well treated by the Spaniards, who allowed her twelve
thousand crowns a month, which was very handsome payment
for her, and thereafter she did nothing but wander and scrape
along in poverty. Saint-Germain knew nothing of the Queen-
Mother's design. The Cardinal-Infanta was persuaded and
gave him, to live on, a provostship with twelve thousand livres
income ; ' perhaps he wished him to have it to make him write
against the Cardinal. On the death of Cardinal Richelieu,
this man came back to Paris, for he had as much revenue already
from another provostship in Provence, and did not want to enjoy
that in Flanders, so that he could not be accused of having
commerce with the enemy. He lives here with his sister, to
whom he allows a pension of twelve thousand livres. He has
still three thousand livres income from elsewhere, and when he
receives something from his appointments, for he holds I know
not what employment or some pension, he distributes it to the
two daughters of this sister. He will not dispose of his two
provostships, because, he declares, it would be usurping the
rights of those who grant such benefices.
The worthy d'Espernon had been among the stoutest, but
at last he was forced to own he was worsted, and came on horse
back to Montauban to see the Cardinal. " You see," he said
to him, " this poor old man." The Cardinal bore him a grudge
68

THE C^PI^AL RICHELIEU
because he had once said, when someone found him with a
breviary, during the siege of La Rochelle, " Well, we must needs
do other men's duties, since they do ours." And he alarmed
the Cardinal greatly at Bordeaux, for he went to see him with two
hundred gentlemen in his train, and the Cardinal was alone in
bed. The latter never forgave him this. This good man,
when the Cardinal was made generalissimo in Italy, remarked
that the King had retained for himself nothing but the power
of healing scrofula; and when M. d'Effiat was made Marshal
of France, he said to him: " Well, well, M. d'Effiat, and here
you are, a Marshal of France. In my day they only made a very
few — but they were good ones."
The Cardinal, in order to secure the Admiralty and to be
absolute master on sea as well as on land, had it bruited abroad
that several Spanish galleons of the Indies fleet had been lost off
Bayonne, and informed the King accordingly. At the same time
several persons, duly posted for the purpose, remarked to His
Majesty that, through there being nobody responsible for ship
wrecks, all the cargo of these galleons would be lost, and that a
supreme chief of navigation was surely essential; and forth
with they began casting around to see who could best undertake
such duties satisfactorily ; and after a number of names had been
mentioned, they could find none but the Cardinal capable of the
office; and succeeded in inducing the King to mention it to him.
His Majesty proposed it to the Cardinal, who began by saying
that he was already overburdened, that he would sink under
the load, and so had himself warmly beseeched to undertake it.
This office rendered that of Admiral useless and superfluous, and
M. de Montmorency, who was Admiral of the Western Ocean,
was glad to come to an agreement about his office. M. de Guise,
who held that post for the Mediterranean, made more ceremony
of it, and in the end they relieved him of his Admiralty, and of
the governance of Provence as well.
The Cardinal could not stomach any reflection that he was
not sprung of a great house, and nothing was ever so much
present to his mind as that.
The elder Hocquincourt made suit to be named chancellor
of the order; whereupon Richelieu said to him: " Really!
What a great honour! " " But it was that dignity," answered
the other, " which made your father a knight." He was none
the better welcomed at Court for that!
The grand-prior de la Porte noticed that Cardinal Richelieu
did not hold out his hand in his house to the Prince of Piedmont,
69

MIOXJ^ATURE PORTRAITS
later Duke of Savoy, and said out loud: " Who would ever have
thought that the grandson of the advocate would pass by the
grandson of Charles the Fifth? "
At the siege of La Rochelle, M. de la Rochefoucauld, then
the governor of Poitou, received an order to assemble all the
nobility of his province. In four days' time he gathered together
fifteen hundred gentlemen, and said to the King: " Sire, there
is not one of them but is a kinsman of mine." Whereupon
M. d'Estissac, a young relative, said to him: " You've made
a clumsy mistake, kinsman. The Cardinal's nephews are still
only a lot of louts, and you're making your own gallows. Keep
an eye on your governance! " And in the very next month,
the Cardinal had him relieved thereof, and gave the province to a
man who had not so much standing. This was Parabelle.
When the Duke of Weimar came to Paris, the Comte de
Parabelle, a foolish enough fellow, went to see him like any other,
and had the impertinence to ask him why he had given battle
at Nordlingen. The Duke whispered in Marshal de la Meil-
leraye's ear: "Who is this coxcomb with the cordon bleu?"
" He is a foolish kind of creature," said the Marshal. " Pay
no heed to his words." " But why was he given the cordon
bleu, then? " " He was not quite so extravagant at the time! "
The compositions directed against him and printed at Brussels
were also a source of annoyance to him. Such was his anger at
these that it helped not a little in bringing about the declaration
of war against Spain. But this was principally done for the sake
of making himself necessary. The year the enemy captured
Corbie, although there was always a little fund of five hundred
thousand crowns in the keeping of Mauroy, the provincial
officer, the Cardinal was none the less greatly embarrassed.
The worthy Bullion, head of the treasury, went to see him, and
said: "What is wrong, Monseigneur ?" (for by that title the Car
dinal affected to be addressed). " Why do I find you out of
spirits?" His tone was that of a somewhat reproachful old
man, but determined.
"Eh! Have I not cause enough?" said the Cardinal.
" The Spaniards have made their way in; they have captured
towns; the Comte de Soissons has been driven back beyond
the Oise, and we have no army left."
" Another must be raised, Monseigneur."
" And with what, pray? "
"With what? I shall give you the wherewithal to raise
fifty thousand men and a million of gold to fall back upon."
70

THE C^KPIHAL RICHELIEU
The Cardinal embraced him,
Bullion had always six millions in the keeping of Fieubet,
the treasurer of the Epargne, for it was in him that his chief
confidence reposed. Whence came the prodigious fortune of
Lambert,2 Fieubet's financial clerk, for he turned this money to
profit. Anyone to whom he lent fifty thousand livres, when
pressed for repayment by Lambert (as he used expressly to do),
flung him a bag of a thousand francs to have a respite. But the
Cardinal was hardly well informed if he did not know what was
done with the money, or if there was not a reserve fund; but
he wanted to thieve, so he let others thieve, and that is the truth.
At this period he went about Paris without guards, but he
had ball-proof iron in his cloaks, and likewise in the front and back
leatherwork of his coach, and always someone in the lackeys'
place. He regularly took Marshal La Force with him, as being
a favourite with the people. The King went to Chantilly, and
despatched the Marshal de Chatillon to break down the bridges
on the Oise. Montatere, a gentleman who was with de Lian-
court, met the Marshal, and said to him: " And what are we to
do, we on the other side of the river ? It looks as if you were
leaving us to be pillaged."
" You must send," replied the Marshal, " and ask for
guards from M. Picolomini. I shall give you letters: he is a
friend of mine. We used them thus in Flanders, after the
battle of Avein."
M. de Liancourt and M. d'Humieres having learnt this,
joined in with Montatere. The Marshal wrote. Picolomini
sent three guards, and wrote telling the Marshal that if it had
been the Marshal de Breze, he would not have had them. (Pico
lomini was a lover of order: being lodged once in the house
of a gentleman, he safeguarded everything, even to the fruit-trees,
and had a page whipped for going in amongst them over the
wall.) M. de Saint-Simon, knight of the order and the captain
of Chantilly, eager to act the faithful servant, went and told the
King that there was a guard at Montatere, that it was a very high
place, and that from there one could discover when the King
might happen to be ill-guarded, and come over to carry him
off with five hundred horse, for, he declared, there were shallow
passages on the river. The King fell into a fine state of fright !
He began to storm against Montatere, and said he wished his
head could be cut off in three days, and that 'twas he who had
given this fine example to the others. Montatere kept himself
out of sight, although it was really the Marshal de Chatillon
7i

MIUiJ^TURE PORTRAITS
who ought to have been the object of the storm. The King
himself had given ground for the panic that reigned in the
district, for he had had Chantilly emptied of its furnishings,
though it has good moats and is on this side of the river. His
fury lasted a couple of days, after which Sanguin, the chief
butler, served the King with some pears he had had from
Montatere. His Majesty found them excellent, and asked
whence they came.
" Sire," said he, laughing, " if you knew that, you would
perhaps not wish to eat any more. Eat on, eat on, and then I
shall tell you." And afterwards he told him: " It was the man
against whom you were raging so much yesterday who gave
me them to serve to you."
He broke into laughter, and said he would like to have some
cuttings of those trees. In the end M. d'Angouleme made
Montatere's peace, on condition that he would not speak.
And indeed the King said to him: " Montatere, I grant you
pardon: but — no explanations! " And he turned his back on
him. He would have done better, or the Cardinal for him, to
punish those who fled so basely from Paris. For at that time
the Orleans road was thronged with the carriages of people who
imagined that they were unsafe in Paris. Barentin de Charonne
was one such. He should have been made an example, and
condemned to a heavy fine, for he was a rich man and childless.
He cherished the project of making himself a duchy at
Richelieu, and to this end desired to possess Isle-Bouchard,
which belonged to M. de La Tremouille. He was anxious to
make a tricky bargain, so he sent certain spies who said that the
Cardinal would give such-and-such a sum for it. It was a
greater figure than the land was worth, but the Duke believed
it. Then the Cardinal asked whether he was willing to sell to
him. The other answered that he was, and that he would give
him his word. " And I give you my word that I shall buy,"
said the Cardinal. " But we must find out," he added, " how
much it is valued at, for you would not like to put too high a
price on it for me." "Ah! But I had been told you would
give whatever was asked," replied the Duke. But, nevertheless,
he had to resign himself. The forest alone was worth the
hundred thousand crowns the Cardinal gave. (La Tremouille,
indeed, has made even more foolish bargains than this. His
brother-in-law, La Moussaye, has made from the forest of
Quintin, which the Duke sold to him as part of the estate of
72

THE C*#RT>I3iAL RICHELIEU
Quintin, the full five hundred thousand francs which the whole
property cost him. He has parted with a forest together with
its land for less than the value of the timber.)
The Cardinal exchanged the domain of Chinon with the King ;
and, so that he might not have a fine house in the neighbourhood
(and one that was bound to belong to a prince, for it was the
property of Mademoiselle), he obliged M. d'Orleans, as the
latter's guardian, to exchange Champigny against Bois-le-
Vicomte, and to raze the castle to the ground. He was likewise
anxious to raze the chapel which is there, containing the tombs
of MM. de Montpensier. To this end he had represented to
the Pope (for such chapels depend directly from the Pope)
that its ruin was impending. Innocent the Tenth, at that time
a Papal chancery officer of Cardinal Barberin, the legate in
France, was instructed to proceed to an examination on the spot.
He found that the chapel was a magnificent one and in excellent
repair. His report was opposed to the Cardinal. And the
latter did not dare to lay a mine under the chapel and declare it
to be a flame from heaven. This is why, since then, Made
moiselle has desired to return to Champigny, and has returned
thither. Consider the weakness of this man ! He might have made
famous the most obscure corner in all France, but he thought a
large building added to his father's house would magnify his
glory, without reflecting that — apart from all these troubles
with the King's domain and with Champigny — the place was
neither beautiful nor healthy: for with all the advantages which
he supplied there, one does not grow used to it. He made
several obvious faults: the main part of the dwelling is too
small and narrow, though his idea of preserving a part of his
father's house (where one is shown the room in which the Car
dinal was born), and this to make it known that his father had a
house of hewn stone, roofed with slate, in a district where the
peasants' houses are exactly the same. He has also had the
affectation to leave standing, in the corner of his flower-garden,
a fair-sized church, on account of its being the burying-place
of his ancestors. The courtyard is very pleasant and richly
adorned with statuary. Inside, the gilding and the pictures
make up a wonderful decoration, but from the garden side the
front of the house is ridiculous. Fountain-jets have been intro
duced in considerable numbers. The canals are of beautiful
water, made by a little stream, and the moats are as full as they
could be. The park and gardens are beautiful, but the wood
73

MIWJeATURE PORTRAITS
is not, for oak-trees do not thrive so well in marshy soil as do
those great alleys of poplars. He would have made something
much more splendid at Isle-Bouchard.
Neither in the castle nor in the town could a cellar be made.
Some have been dug at the end of the garden. The farm
yard court is beautiful, the town smiling, for it is a toy-like place ;
the church is very pleasing, the houses of the town are of uniform
structure, and all of hewn stone. They have been built by
persons in the treasury or the household or the payment of the
Cardinal. He has not himself had the satisfaction of seeing
Richelieu; he had too many concerns on his hands. In Paris
he amused himself by retaining one room of the Hotel de Ram
bouillet,3 and this freak of fancy likewise spoilt the main part
of the house. In fact, both in town and country, he had a
miserly way of building. It must also be said, as it is true, that
at the beginning he did not have such a large project in view;
everything was done by fits and starts. In order to have the
necessary space, he was anxious to purchase the house where the
sign of the " Three Maidens " hung, and at first he proceeded
gently and by force of reason. But the citizen who owned it was
foolish enough to say that it was a paternal heritage. In the
end the Cardinal grew angry and, by a shameful act of revenge,
had him placed under the tax imposed on the well-to-do.
After which he had the house for the asking.
(He bequeathed the Palais-Cardinal, as his testament will
show, to the Dauphin, for his lodging or that at least of the heir-
presumptive to the crown. When the Court took up its abode
there soon after the death of the late King, the words Palais-
Royal were put up. It was very ridiculous to alter this inscrip
tion. In '47, Mme Aiguillon took her opportunity and made
representation that a wrong was being done to her uncle, and
a promise was given that the name of Palais-Cardinal should be
restored. It was commonly said by the people that the fact was
that the Queen had given it to Cardinal Mazarin.)
This same tax he also had applied to Barentin de Charonne,
in respect of his house of Charonne, who had so often been his
host. Doubtless he well deserved it, for he was very rich; and
he had done a foolish thing to the Cardinal, for he made a great
outcry about a candle-end that had been put against a wall and
had blackened some wretched water-colour painting. You may
be sure that this was not with the Cardinal's consent, for he was
very orderly and never damaged anything. No house was ever
seen better kept and better governed than his. Barentin was
74

THE C^KPI^KAL RJ CHE LIEU
foolish enough to die of affliction over this, so ill-natured and
self-seeking was he. To excuse the Cardinal, it was said that
two or three small breaches of order like that which happened
at Charonne, and the scant civility of these people, who did not
yield him all their house, although it was not too big, dispensed
him from exempting them from the tax; and it was said that he
was afraid of an outcry against him for sparing Barentin when
people of quite a moderate competence were taxed. None the
less, that did not strike most people very favourably.
At Ruel, to speak at once of his edifices, nothing very remark
able will be seen either. But he took pleasure in being near to
Saint-Germain. Father Caussin, the Jesuit, who had succeeded Father
Arnoux, was minded to make a cabal against the Cardinal, with
La Fayette, a lady-in-waiting of the Queen's, with whom the
King was in love, in his fashion. M. de Limoges, the young
woman's uncle, came in with them likewise; Mme de Senecy,
his favoured friend, was expelled, and La Fayette became a
religious. Here is the manner wherein this was discovered:
M. d'Angouleme, then a widower (he is the bastard
of Charles IX), had gone to beg the Cardinal to permit a
certain lady named Ventadour, abbess of  in Lower
Normandy, whom the Cardinal had deprived of her abbey on
account of certain libels she had made- against him, to enter
some religious house in Paris, that she might not be left in the
street. The Cardinal granted him this. On his way back, he was
at the Jesuits' in the Rue Saint-Antoine, where Father Caussin
told him that the King, touched with compassion for his people,
had decided to dismiss Cardinal Richelieu, who was the greatest
scoundrel among men, and that the King had fixed on him to
make cardinal and to put in the other's place. Note what an
excellent man he was taking! Off went M. d'Angouleme,
wondering what was to be done. He decided to speak instantly
to M. de Chavigny. The latter embraced him, and said:
" You bring us hope of life! For six months now no one has
known what was wrong with the King." And forthwith
Chavigny dashed posthaste to Ruel.
Next day M. d'Angouleme betook himself thither, and both
together they went to seek the King. The Cardinal, laughing,
said: " Sire, here is this wretch, this traitor, this scoundrel:
you must put M. d'Angouleme in his place! " And the King
broke into laughter with them, but very half-heartedly, and
said: " I've noticed for some time that poor Father Caussin
75

MIDiJzATURE PORTRAITS
has been growing feeble." The Comte d'Alais got the govern
ance of Provence for this business.
Not long afterwards, when M. d'Angouleme was running
a stag with the King in the forest of Vincennes, the King said
to him: " Sirrah, do you see that keep there? 'Tis no fault of
the Cardinal's that you were not thrown into it." " Odsbody,
Sire," answered the other, " I must have merited that, for he
• wouldn't have advised you that otherwise! "
Father Caussin came by his death in a curious fashion. He
dabbled in astrology, and discovered that he was bound to die
on a certain day. When the day came, with no illness on him,
he took to his bed and died. The Queen-Mother also had great
faith in predictions and was infuriated when she was assured that
the Cardinal would prosper and live long. She believed that
those buzzing bluebottles hear what is said and will repeat it:
when she saw one of them she would never say anything con
fidential. The cabinet undoubtedly gave the Cardinal some trouble,
and he spent a good deal on spies. The King was feeble and
dared do nothing on his own account. On one occasion it was
discovered that he had been bold enough to grant a bishopric,
that of Le Mans, which had fallen vacant through the death of
one Lavardin. The King had word of it before the Cardinal
and said to one of his chaplains, La Ferte" by name, that he gave
it to him. La Fert^ went off to see the Cardinal, and tremblingly
said to him that the King had given him the bishopric of Le Mans
without his having asked it of him. " Oh, indeed! " said the
Cardinal, " the King has given you the bishopric of Le Mans.
That is extremely probable! " The youth thought that it was
going to be taken from him, and some small post given him in
its stead. But the first time that the King saw the Cardinal, he
said to him: " I have given the bishopric of Le Mans to La
Ferte." And the Cardinal, noticing this, had enough respect
for the King not to undo what he had already done.
The first capture made in Flanders was that of Hesdin.
One attack was commanded by La Meilleraye, the other by
Lambert. The latter had a certain engineer who had served
the States and did things in order and as they should be done.
But the former had no idea of patience, had numerous men
killed, and made less progress than the other. He sent for this
engineer to come. " How many days do you ask of me? " he
asked him. " Neither less nor more than for the other attack,
sir," he replied. " It needs so much time to pass the moat."
76

THE C^JRVI^AL RICHELIEU
The attack of Lambert had to be delayed, in order that La
Meilleraye should have the honour of the capture, and be made
Marshal of France in the breach.
It was here that La Meilleraye, in lack of money, proposed
to the Cardinal to appoint four other superintendents of finance
at two hundred thousand livres each. " My good sir," said the
Cardinal, " if someone said to you: ' Look, you have a steward
who is robbing you ; but you are far too great a lord to be robbed
by only one: you should take four more ' — would you listen
to him?" On another occasion he said to the Cardinal that
he knew someone who would give eight hundred thousand livres
for the civil lieutenancy. " Do not mention his name," answered
the Cardinal. " He must be a thief."
Hesdin surrendered a week sooner than it should have done
by reason of a cipher letter being intercepted, in which the
besieged appealed for assistance. It was Rossignol who de
ciphered it, and made out an answer in the same code, in the
name of the Cardinal-Infanta, saying that no help was possible
and advising them to ask for terms. At La Rochelle also,
Rossignol deciphered a letter which gave courage to the Cardinal
and strengthened him in his design.
This Rossignol was a poor youth from Albi, who had a certain
ability in deciphering. The Cardinal kept him as much to
frighten people as for anything else. He amassed a fortune and
is to-day master of the accounts at Poitiers. He practised
devotion to the extent of bodily discipline. In 1653 he received
fourteen thousand crowns for three years' pension. Cardinal
Mazarin believed that he was useful to him for mental calcula
tions, but neither he nor any human head could disentangle
them except by chance. It is said that he never solved any of
them save one. Otherwise, a poor sort of man. He recounted
familiarly to Cardinal Richelieu the honours which had been paid
to him at Albi: " Monseigneur," he said, " they did not dare
approach me. They regarded me as a favourite. But for my
part, I lived amongst them just as in the old days : they were
quite amazed at my civility." The Cardinal shrugged his
shoulders, and said to Desmarest when the other had gone:
" Kindly get any information you can out of him." Whereupon
Desmarest accosted him, and said: " Well, you have given Mon
seigneur a good deal to keep just now." " Heavens! Not at
all! " said Rossignol. " I have not told him the half. But I
have a mind to tell you the whole story." And thereupon he
bragged away as much as anyone could wish. " But then,"
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MIO^I^ATURE PORTRAITS
he added, " I mustn't forget to tell you some of my neat sayings.
There was a judge who was half-afraid to come near me. But
I embraced the good man, and said to him with a laugh : ' Ah !
remember the Albergat ! ' " It was a certain tavern where they
had drunk together.
When the Duke of Lorraine defaulted in the treaty he had
concluded with the King at Saint-Germain, the Cardinal hoped to
console His Majesty with a bag of savings (for nothing consoled
him so much as that), and, being suspicious that ten thousand
pistoles received by the Duke were still in Paris, set the com
missary Coiffier in search of them, and promised him six hundred
as his share. Coiffier by some chance was acquainted with a
Lorrainer who was on good terms with the Duke, and going to
this man's house, he said: " You are going to be arrested on
a certain charge." The Lorrainer confessed that he had this
money. "Oh, well, give it me, and you will be left alone: I give
you my word for that." The Lorrainer gave it. Coiffier took
it to the Cardinal, and the Cardinal to the King. The promised
six hundred pistoles were duly paid.
The Cardinal was a man who kept his word, as will be seen
from the story I am about to tell. There was a certain engineer
named de Meuves, who one day had rashly declared that " all
one had to do was to buy two houses opposite each other in the
Rue Saint-HonorcS, and lay a mine under the street, and set the
spark to it when the Cardinal was passing." Judge for yourself
whether that is very feasible. Well, the Cardinal had wind of
this, and heard also that the man had a secret for breaking iron
with a certain liquid. This alarmed him, and he determined to
get rid of this man.
De Meuves had access to the Arsenal, and the grand master
thereof had hopes of gaining great advantages from this secret,
in the surprising of towns where there are iron grills to give
passage to some stream or other. It happened one evening that
the man had promised someone to go and sleep at Saint-Cloud;
it was late; and he had the idea of going and severing the chain
of a boat with his concoction, and took his lackey with a lighted
torch to be able to pass under the bridges. As it happened,
that was the very night of the fire breaking out on the Pont-au-
Change. A splendid excuse! De Meuves was accused of
having set fire to this bridge, and intentionally.
The Cardinal appointed as chief of his commissioners in
the matter (all councillors at the CMtelet, who are judges of
incendiaries) M. des Cordes, a man whose life deserves to be
78

THE Ct^KPINAL RICHELIEU
written, in order that it could be said, although this incorruptible
judge would not have the say over the others: " He has been
condemned by M. des Cordes." The Cardinal had a mind to
possess the secret, so he sent the clerk of M. des Cordes, de
Niesle" by name (from whom we learn these details), to inquire.
De Niesle" brought him some of the stuff, for a quantity of it
had been discovered at de Meuves' house when he was arrested.
The Cardinal wanted to witness an experiment with it. The
metal bands of a cupboard were rubbed with it, and after quarter
of an hour the boards of the cupboard fell to the ground. Seeing
which, the Cardinal was no longer obstinate in his desire to pos
sess this secret, as he had been: " for," he said, " there would no
longer be any security." Before this he had sent to ask de
Meuves for it, but the latter answered that he would never give
it unless he were promised his life. " I shall not promise him
that," said the Cardinal. " For I should have to keep my
word to him, and I want him to die." And he was duly hanged.
What a pleasing scruple! He did not want to break his
word, and he sent an innocent to his death. A statesman, or
rather a tyrant as he was, deems that a broken promise injures
good fame, while few people will know that this man has been
unjustly done to death.
A certain baron of Languedoc, whose name escapes me,
a kinsman of M. de Cavoye, had once discovered a kind of
hollow ball which was filled with gunpowder and fitted with a
wick which lit itself when the cannon was fired, so bursting in the
earth and doing almost as much damage as a laid mine. His
late Majesty, Louis XIII, had a trial of this made at Versailles,
where an earthwork of half-moon shape was specially constructed.
Saint-Aout, the lieutenant-general of artillery, with intentional
malice, sent bad powder, of which the baron made complaint.
The King was vexed. Saint-Aout came and brought good
powder. The effect was great, and the King presented the baron
to the Cardinal at Ruel. The latter feigned delight, but, as this
discovery took away a great profit on the artillery, by reducing the
establishment to a quarter of the carriages, he managed things
so that orders were given for this baron to retire. Yet nothing
was more serviceable against earthworks.
Ambition drove the Cardinal to a desire to conciliate the
rival religions, and he meditated this for a long while. He had
already corrupted several ministers of religion in Languedoc,
those who were married, with money, those who were not,
with the promise of benefices. He had plans for the holding
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MI^I^fTURE PORTRAITS
of a conference, with those whom he had won over as deputies:
these, joining hands with their opponents, would engage the
rest to do likewise. With this intention in mind, he turned his
eye upon the Abbe de Saint-Cyran, a man of high repute and
probity, to make him leader of the doctors who would dispute
with the ministers. Saint-Cyran replied that he was greatly
honoured in being adjudged worthy to be at the head of so many
able men, but that his conscience obliged him to say that this
was not the way of the Holy Spirit, but rather that of flesh and
blood, and that heretics should be fittingly converted only by the
good examples given them. This remonstrance was not very
tasteful to the Cardinal, and was the true reason for the imprison
ment of Saint-Cyran.
In Languedoc the Cardinal sent to make trial of one of the
ministers of Montpellier, named Le Fauscher, a native of Geneva.
He wanted to win him over on account of his reputation. He
sent him ten thousand francs. The worthy man was exceedingly
surprised. "What! Why am I sent this?" he asked the
bearer. " My lord Cardinal," replied the man, " begs you to
accept this sum as a gift from the King." But Le Fauscher
would not touch it, which brought him into ill-favour with the
Cardinal, and the unhappy minister was for a long time under
interdict, until he had permission to preach in Paris.
I have heard that one of the circumstances that chiefly led
to the reform of the monastic houses, and especially those of
women, was the mad exploit of a certain Mme de Frontenac, a
nun at Poissy, who, not content with carrying on love affairs,
was inspired to dance a ballet with five other nuns and their six
gallants. They went to Saint-Germain, where the King was,
and it was thought at first that the ballet had come from Paris.
But next morning the truth was discovered, and that same day
the six nuns were sent into exile. Before that they had each
their separate lodging and garden, and ate in private if they were
so minded. More than once the Cardinal has had as much luck as skill,
for, after having driven the Comte de Soissons to extremity,
he opposed him with a good chief, it is true, but with a very feeble
army. Lamboy had no trouble in undoing the Marshal de
Chatillon. In strict truth, was it not of at least equal import to
the Cardinal that the grand master should have the glory of the
capture of Aire, as to gain the victory over the Comte ? It has
been believed on this account that he had made certain of having
him slain in the fight. It is only a story: that would have been
80

THE C^PIH^L RICHELIEU
revealed in time. Every one believes that the Comte, trying to
raise his visor with the point of his pistol, killed himself: and if
he had not killed himself where would His Eminence have been ?
The whole of Champagne, of which the Comte was governor,
would have opened its gates to the victors. All the malcontents
would have joined; the King himself would perhaps have been
glad to rid himself of a minister who was costly to him and whom
he feared; for the Cardinal was not like the present one
(Mazarin) : he had true friends, and certain creatures who would
never have failed him.
When the news of the defeat of M. de Chatillon was brought
to him, the Cardinal was thrown into despair for five whole
hours, and only recovered when he was informed of the death
of the Comte. In this fight, the Marquis de Praslin, son of the
marshal, received a hundred blows after his death. It is believed
that he had given his parole to the Comte and then broken it.
He was a royal functionary, but wicked. For a long while he
had practised impiety, and to re-establish his reputation in these
matters he pretended to have seen a vision. But Cardinal
Richelieu made mock of it.
After the Comte's death, M. de Bouillon made a peace on
equal terms with the King. In completing the treaty the
Cardinal said: " There is still one condition to add: that Mme
de Bouillon shall believe that I am her most humble servant."
After which, M. de Bouillon went foolishly to join with M.
d'Orleans and Cinq-Mars. His father had repeatedly advised
him to remain in his small bodyguard, and he entered on an
intrigue when commanding in Piedmont. He was taken at the
head of his army, and his wife was constrained to return Sedan
to save his life. He did not show any great constancy when in
prison. The Comte de Soissons had inserted in his arms the
motto: For the King, against the Cardinal. M. de Bouillon put:
Friend of the King, foe of the Cardinal. M. de Guise had a chair
reversed with a cardinal's hat beneath, and the words: Deposuit
potentem de sede. The Prince of Simmeren, of the palatine house,
was at Sedan when the Comte withdrew thither. Having re
turned from his country when the battle of Sedan was fought, he
naively wrote this letter to the Comte de Soissons: " The rumour
runs here that you have won the battle but have been killed
there. Let me know what there is in it, for I should be greatly
pained by your death." The Comte de Roussi has told me
that he has seen this letter.
The " vision " of de Praslin reminds me of a physician
8l F

MIUtltATURE PORTRAITS
of the Faculty, named Patin. A learned man, he nevertheless
claimed that, having made one of his patients on the point of
death promise to come back and tell him whether there was a
Purgatory, this man did appear to him one morning. But
he said nothing at all, for those who return from the other world
never speak.
The Cardinal was miserly. Not that he did not spend freely,
but he loved wealth. When M. de Crequi was killed by a
cannon explosion in Italy, he went to see his pictures, took all
the best of them at the inventory price, and never paid a penny-
piece of it. He did worse: for Gilliers, M. de Crequi's steward,
having brought him three of his own by his orders, and having
presented one to him which he begged him to accept, the Car
dinal merely said: " I want all three." And he owes for them
still. For fair ladies he paid scarcely any better than he did for
pictures. Marion de l'Orme went twice to him. (I have been
told that once she went there in man's dress, being passed off
as a courier. She tells this herself.) On the first visit, he re
ceived her in a suit of grey satin, with gold and silver broideries,
booted and with plumes. She declares that his pointed beard
and his hair above the ears made the most attractive effect imagin
able. After these two visits he had her presented with one
hundred pistoles, through des Bournais, his personal valet, who
had been the procurer in the episode. She flung them away,
and jeered at the Cardinal.
Several times he was seen wearing face-patches.
On one occasion, he had designs against Princess Marie,
now the Queen of Poland. She had sent to ask audience of
him. He stayed in his bed, she was introduced quite alone,
and the captain of the guard made every one retire. " Mon
sieur," she said, " I have come to  " He interrupted her:
" Madame, I promise you everything. I do not in the least
want to know what it is. But, madame, how admirable you
look! Never better! You must know that I have always had
an especial desire to be of service to you." Saying which he took
her hand. She drew it back and began on her story. But
he started his talk again, and again sought to take her hand.
She rose and left the room.
As for Mme d'Aiguillon and Mme de Chaulnes, we shall
tell that later when we reach the Historiette of the former. The
Cardinal loved women, but he was afraid of the King, who had
a malicious tongue. La Riviere, who died as Bishop of Langres,
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THE C^RJ>I^AL RICHELIEU
used to say that the Cardinal was prone to beat his men, and
that more than once he beat the chancellor Siguier and Bullion.
Once when the latter financial officer refused to sign something
which would have sufficed to furnish his own accusation in law,
the Cardinal took the tongs from the fire and gripped his neck,
saying: " You little skinflint, I'll choke you! " And the other
answered: " Choke away, I'll not prevent you." He let him
go in the end, and next day Bullion, persuaded by his friends,
who remonstrated with him that he was a lost man, signed
everything the Cardinal wished. He was rough to those about
him, and always in bad humour. True, he restrained himself
fairly easily. It is said that he sometimes struck blows at
Cavoie, his captain of guards, and others, in a transport of rage.
Mazarin, it is said, did the same to Noailles when he was his
captain of guards.
The Cardinal's pleasantries were sometimes hearty enough,
but with no great matter behind them. (M. de Chavigny had
thoughts of naming the Hotel de Saint-Paul the Hotel de
Bouteillier, and inscribing thus on the door. Cardinal Richelieu
laughed at this, and said to him: "All the Swiss guards will
want to go and drink there: they'll think it's the Hotel Bottles.")
During the siege of Arras, I happened to write an epistle in
verse to little Quillet, the physician of the Marshal d'Estrees,
who was then at Amiens with the Court, for that fine war of
Parma. The packet was addressed to him care of Bautru,
a friend of Quillet's. But by chance it was taken to Nogent, his
brother, who wished to have the pleasure of opening it, for it had
cost him half a crown and he is the meanest of mortals. Nogent
took the trifle to the Cardinal to let him laugh over it. It
furnished occasion for His Eminence's pleasantry, on account
of there being lines which could be applied to M. de Bullion,
who, like Quillet, was small, fat, rosy, and liked good living. He
rallied Senectere, a courtier of Bullion, and when Senedtere
remonstrated that Quillet's name was on it, he said: "What
matter, whether it is for M. de Bullion or for your friend's
physician? It is for you to make answer." And he put the
letter into his hands. Later he returned it to Quillet, telling
him with a very vexed air, for he was afraid Bullion knew about
it, that he strongly advised his friends never to write, to places
where the Court might be, anything which could apply to more
persons than one. If my father had known that, and afterwards
some ill-fortune had betided his affairs, he would have wanted
to make me believe that my poetry was the cause of it.
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MI^CJA'TURE PORTRAITS
At that time, too, the Cardinal laughingly said to Quillet,
who comes from Chinon : " You see this little fellow here ? He
is a kinsman of Rabelais, and a doctor, like him."
" I have not the honour," said Quillet, " to be a kinsman of
Rabelais." " But you won't deny," went on the Cardinal, " that you
belong to Rabelais' country? "
" No, I admit, Monseigneur, that I belong to his country,"
replied Quillet, " but the country of Rabelais has the honour
to belong to your Eminence."
That was pretty bold speaking, but a certain M. Mulot,
of Paris, whom he had made canon of the Sainte-Chapelle, spoke
to him even more boldly. True, the Cardinal was under a great
obligation to this man, for when he was relegated to Avignon,
Mulot sold all that he had and brought him three or four thou
sand crowns, which he needed badly. But M. Mulot disliked
nothing so much as to be called " Chaplain to His Eminence."
Once the Cardinal, for the sake of diversion, for he often tickled
himself to enjoy a laugh, pretended to have received a letter
addressed: To Monsieur Mulot, Chaplain to His Eminence, and
gave it him. He was vexed to fury, and said out loud that some
fools must have done this.
"Oho!" said the Cardinal. "And what if it had been
myself? "
" And if it were," said Mulot, " it would not have been the
first fool's trick you've played! "
Another time he reproached him for having no belief in God,
and having confessed it to him.
The Cardinal one day had some thorns placed under the
saddle of his horse, and no sooner was poor Mulot in the saddle,
than the horse felt the pricks, and began to rear with such violence
that the good canon thought his neck would be broken. The
Cardinal laughed like a madman. Mulot managed to dismount,
and went over to him ablaze with anger. " You are a wicked
man! " he cried.
" Hush! Hush! " said His Eminence to him. " I'll have
you hanged: you're revealing my confession! "
This same Mulot had a nose that showed clearly that he was
no wine-hater. In fact, he could not prevent himself from
administering a sharp rebuke to all who had inferior liquor.
Sometimes when he had dined with someone who had not
given him good wine to drink, he signed to the servants and
said to them: " Look here, aren't you wrong not to give your
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THE CvfRVINAL RICHELIEU
master a warning, for perhaps he doesn't know it, that he does
himself a great wrong in not having good wine to offer his
friends?" The Cardinal had two little pages, one called Meniguet,
and the other Saint  I've forgotten the name of the saint.
They used to combine wonderfully in making puns extempore.
The Cardinal found diversion in this, and one day, when M. de
Lansac had just come in, His Eminence said: " Meniguet,
give me a pun on M. de Lansac."
" Monseigneur, I shall require a pistole: I can't pun without
that." "What, one pistole?"
" Yes, Monseigneur, I shall need one. And if I don't pun
prettily, I'll submit to a whipping."
So the Cardinal gave him one. The little page put it into
his pouch, and said: " Pistole Lansac ! " *
The Cardinal was so pleased that he gave him ten. He
was often seized with fits of melancholy so extreme that he
would send for Bois-Robert and others with the power of being
diverting, and say to them: " Come, cheer me up, if you know
the secret of it." Then they would each play the fool awhile,
and when he was relieved, he turned to his business again.
For Mme de Rambouillet the Cardinal had a great feeling
of friendship. He discovered that M. de Lizieux, although
having property otherwise, still enjoyed a small estate which
had formerly been given him for life by this lady's father-in-law.
He could not endure this, and in and out of season he wanted to
tell him so. Whenever he saw Mme de Rambouillet, the first
thing he used to say to her was, " Madame, has M. de Lizieux
restored that land? " In the end Mme de Rambouillet had to
go down on her knees to have his assurance that he would speak
no more of it. M. de Lizieux had forgotten whence this land
came to him, or rather, he had forgotten that he had it at all.
There was never a man knew less of his own business than he.
It has been remarked that Cardinal Richelieu punished with
great severity the sedition of the " bare-foots " in Normandy,
because that province has formerly had sovereigns, because it
ranks higher than another province, because it is neighbour to
England, and because it has still, perhaps, a certain inclination
to having a duke.
It has also been remarked that it was a great blunder to
forbid the weighing of pistoles, for there was so much clipping
that they did not weigh more than six livres, and this was ruinous
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MIJQ^TURE PORTRAITS
to the King when he had to take gold out of France. In the
end this opened the Cardinal's eyes. True, he took steps to
check this disorder, for he prohibited them all ofa sudden. Then
it was necessary to strike at the clippers. Montauron delivered
up a throng of them to the King, and had them condemned in
the heaviest sums that he could. There were so many that not
all the rope in the kingdom would have been enough for their
hanging. A few private members of the council who had some
light gold were the cause of this ridiculous edict forbidding tbe
weighing of pistoles. This obliged the coining of louis-d'or
pieces. The Cardinal once delivered an oration to the Parliament
in the presence of the King, and his speech, which was fairly
long, made a considerable stir. The orator was the making of
it, for in truth it was no great thing in itself. There was talk
of having it printed. He asked Cardinal La Valette to assemble
a few men of intelligence. This was at Bautru's. Among
these were M. Godeau, M. Chapelain, M. Gombauld, M.
Guyet, and M. Desmarest, whom Bautru included on his own
authority. The oration was read in full, as the Cardinal desired.
Well, they spent from ten o'clock in the morning till the evening
only in marking the most gross errors. When he knew that
they had been so long in their examination, he drew back and
had no further thoughts of printing. Bautru advised that
he should not be shown the marks that had been made, for there
were too many and he would have been furious. (It was packed
with faults of speech, as much so as his Catechism or the Christian
Instruction. He saw things clearly, but did not lay them out
well. In succinct speech he was admirable and neat.)
Afterwards, he was not so docile. He imagined that he
wrote better prose than anybody else, but it was only of verses
that he really took account. He wrote a catechism which he
had printed, where he says at one place: " It is like someone
undertaking to hear the More of Terence without a commentary."
He must have been a careful student of Terence !
There are still two other books of his. The first is entitled
The Perfection of the Christian. In the preface to this book
he declares that it was written during the troubles at Corbie.
That is ridiculous vanity. Whenever it may have been done
(and it was not likely to have been then, for he had not the
leisure and had plenty of other things on his mind), there was
no need to say it. M. Desmarest, and M. de Chartres (Lescot),
who had been his confessor, have slightly revised this work.
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THE C^KPI^AL RJCHELIEtl
The other is entitled: A Treatise exhibiting the Easiest and
most Assured Method to Convert those who are Separated from
Holy Church. M. de Chartres and the Abbe" de Bourses revised
this one. (Many people have thought that this last work is
from the pen of M. de Chartres, for its style conforms with his,
so far as can be judged by a sample, the approbation which
this prelate placed at the beginning of the book. The Cardinal
had several persons to work on the material, afterwards making
choice, and doing so passably well.) After these two, Mme
d'Aiguillon begged M. Chapelain to recast an Invocation to the
Holy Virgin. He did it. But she changed nothing in it, from
scruples, or from veneration for her uncle.
One thing has greatly surprised me about this man — that
he had never read the Memoirs of Charles IX. Here is a con
vincing proof thereof. Someone having mentioned to him the
Voluntary Servitude of Estienne de La Boetie (this is one of the
treatises in those Memoirs, and one which, in my opinion, is
only a college exercise and has enjoyed an exaggerated fame),
he was desirous of seeing this work. He sent one of his gentle
men all up and down the Rue Saint- Jacques asking for Voluntary
Servitude. But all the booksellers said: " We do not know
what that can be." They did not remember at all that it was
in the Memoirs of Charles IX. In the end, the son of Blaise, a
well-known bookseller, remembered this, and told his father.
So when the gentleman called again, he said to him: " Oh, sir,
there is an amateur who has that book you were asking for:
but it is unbound, and he is asking five pistoles for it." " No
matter," said the gentleman. So the worthy man went out by
the back door and came back with the bundles of pages which
he had unstitched — and got his five pistoles.
As for the Academy (" Psaphon's bird-cage," as Saint-Ger
main agreeably called it), I have nothing to add to what M.
Pelisson has said about it in his History. I shall only remark that
the Cardinal was delighted when the resolution of some difficulty
was referred to him. He was complimentary to the Acade
micians and begged them to send him such things often in the
same way. But was not his avarice in this business ludicrous?
If he had granted Vaugelas enough to live honourably, without
his having other employment than on the Dictionary, this work
would have been completed in his lifetime, and there would have
been no need to appoint commissioners who revised each letter
with him. These commissioners would have to be paid too.
But did that cost him nothing ? Was it from his own purse that
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MI^I^ATURE PORTRAITS
he paid people? That would have been honourable and useful
to France. He neglected also to provide a building for this
luckless Academy of his. I
He was a glutton for praise. I have been assured that
in the author's epistle of a book dedicated to him, he crossed
out the word Hero and substituted Demigod. \
A certain La Peyre, a kind of madman, took it into his hejd
to put in front of a book a great sun, in the middle of which
the Cardinal was represented. From him there darted forth
forty beaming rays, at the tips of which were the names of Ine
forty Academicians. M. the Chancellor, as the best qualified,
had a direct ray. I think that M. Servien, then secretary of state,
had the other; Bautru next, and the others " in the pro rata
of their qualities," to use the phrase of La Vieuville. He
included Cherolles-Bautru, who did not form part of it, instead
of the commissioner Habert. He was a native of the Auvergne,
who composed ridiculous treatises on chronology.
I have already said that the Cardinal cared only for verses.
One day when he was closeted with Desmarest, whom Bautru
had introduced to his circle, he asked him: "Wherein, think1
you, do I take the greatest pleasure?" "In advancing the
happiness of France," answered Desmarest. " Not at all,"
answered the Cardinal. " It is in making verses." He
had an insensate jealousy against The Cid, because his pieced
had not succeeded too well. He wrote only tirades instead
of proper plays. But when he was working he granted audience
to nobody. Moreover, he would brook no revision. On ope
occasion L'Estoile, less complaisant than the others, told him as
gently as possible that a certain line wanted amending. All
that was wrong with it was that it had three syllables too many.
" Come, come, M. de L'Estoile," he said to him, as if it iad
been a question of an edict, " we shall have it passed all
right." He once drafted out a play with all the proper reflections
and gave it to Bois-Robert in presence of Mme d'Aiguillon. Bhe
followed him out when he went, to tell him to find meanfc to
prevent its appearing, for it was the most ludicrous thing imagin
able. Bois-Robert, a few days later, made some indirect mention
in this regard, and the Cardinal, noticing this, said: " Bring a
chair for him, he wants to preach." Afterwards M. Chapjlain
made certain comments on this draft at the Cardinal's request.
They were as softly worded as possible. His Eminence tore
up the piece, then had the scraps pasted together again (all
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THE C^KPI^AL RICHELIEU
this in bed, at night), and at last reconciled himself to saying no
more about it.
His taste was rather defective. He was known to have
more than three performances given of a ridiculous prose play of
La Serre, Thomas More. In one place of this Anne Boleyn is
made to say to King Henry VIII, who offered her his promise
of marriage :
Sire, of these promises maidens take no count.
And in another, moralising over the fragility of human things,
she says to the King that the throne of monarchs is but a thing
of flaws ; to which the King replies :
Ay, flaws that mark the glitt'ring diamond.
Usually he would treat men of letters with great civility.
He was never willing to remain covered because Gombauld
wanted to be bareheaded: putting his hat on the table, he said:
" We shall be a nuisance to each other." None the less, note
the inconsistency: he sat down, and left him standing there
to read a whole comedy through, without considering that the
candle on the table (for it was night) was lower than the reader.
That is a case of obliging and disobliging someone at the same
time. But he has been praised for his ability to oblige graciously
when he had a mind to.
According to La Mesnardiere, he cherished a plan for the
foundation at Paris of a great college with a hundred thousand
livres income, to which he claimed that he would attract the
greatest men of the age. There he would have had a home
for the Academy, which would have been the directing body
of the college. At Narbonne, La Mesnardiere tells, shortly
before his death, he summoned him seven or eight times to dis
cuss the project with him. And so strongly did he hold to this,
in spite of his illness and all the affairs he then had weighing on
his shoulders, that his thoughts were often dwelling on it.
Already, adds La Mesnardiere, he had purchased some college.
He left quite a handsome library, but the avarice of Mme
d'Aiguillon, and the scant care which he took of it, allowed it to
deteriorate considerably. The late Fourrille, when the King
went to lodge at the palace, sought to have the key of this at all
costs. Afterwards there were found seven or eight thousand
livres worth of books missing. That donkey La Serre lodges
there now, and has made there Lord knows what sort of a den.
The Cardinal used to dictate at night when he woke up. For
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MI^JtATURE PORTRAITS
this he was provided with a poor youth from Nogent-le-Rotrou,
named Cheret. This lad pleased the Cardinal, because he
could keep a secret and was industrious. It happened some
years afterwards that a certain man was placed in the Bastille,
and when Laffemas was sent to question him he discovered
amongst his papers four letters from Cheret, in one of which he
said to this prisoner: " I cannot go and find you, for we are
living here in the strangest slavery possible, and we have to deal
with the greatest tyrant that ever was."
Laffemas brought these letters to the Cardinal, who imme
diately summoned Cheret.
" Cheret," he said, " what were your possessions when you
entered my service? "
" Possessions? None at all, Monseigneur."
" Write that down. What have you now? "
" Oh, Monseigneur," said the poor lad, greatly astonished,
" I must think a moment about that."
" Well," said the Cardinal, after a little pause, " have you
thought yet? "
" Yes, Monseigneur. I have so much in this, and such-and-
such in that," and so on.
" Write that down."
When it was written, the Cardinal said: " Is that all? "
" Yes, Monseigneur."
" But you're forgetting," added the Cardinal; " there is an
item of fifty thousand livres."
" Monseigneur, I have not had that money."
" I shall see that you have it. It was I who procured you
that little affair."
Added up, he found himself with one hundred and twenty
thousand crowns of property.
Then the Cardinal showed him these letters of his.
"Look, isn't that your writing? Read it. Come, you're
a rogue. Don't let me ever set eyes on you again."
But Mme d'Aiguillon and the grand-master had him taken
back by the Cardinal. Perhaps he knew things which they
feared he might disclose. Not but what the Cardinal was
terribly feared. For my part, I think that His Eminence, on
this occasion, showed clemency enough. This Cheret is master
of accounts. He had placed one of his brothers with the grand
master, and he, I think, did something also.
It is time to say something of M. le Grand. The Cardinal,
who had not been fortunate with La Fayette, and saw clearly that
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THE C^KPI^HAL RJ CHE LIEU
the King needed some amusement, cast his eyes in the direction
of Cinq-Mars, second son of the late Marshal d'Effiat. He
had noticed that the King had already a certain partiality for this
young man, who was handsome and well-built, and he thought
that Cinq-Mars, being the son of a man who was a creature of
his, would be more submissive to his will than another. For a
year and a half Cinq-Mars evaded the business; he loved his own
pleasures and knew quite well all about the King. But in the
end his fate drew him in. Never did the King love anyone so
warmly: he called him " dear friend." At the siege of Arras,
when Cinq-Mars was there with the Marshal de l'Hospital
leading the convoy, he had to write to the King twice a day.
Indeed, his worthy Majesty once burst into tears when he was
late in letting him have news of himself. The Cardinal wanted
him to report everything, even to trifles. But he was only
willing to tell things which concerned the Cardinal. And their
differences began to break out when M. le Grand laid claim to
enter the council.
It was apparently Fontrailles (a man of good birth from
Languedoc, hunched both behind and in front, extremely ugly
in features, but not foolish-looking, very small and stout) who
chiefly incited Cinq-Mars against His Eminence, for he was
himself angered with the Cardinal. And for this reason : that
one day Fontrailles, Ruvigny and others were at Ruel in the
Cardinal's antechamber, when it was announced that some ambas
sador or other was approaching. The Cardinal came out into
the antechamber, and, finding Fontrailles there, said to him, in
rough mockery: " Stand back, M. de Fontrailles, don't show
yourself too prominently : this ambassador has no taste for
monsters." Fontrailles ground his teeth, and said inwardly: "Ah,
you've just put a knife into my heart : but I shall plant mine
in yours in my turn, or there'll be a reason why not ! "
Afterwards the Cardinal bade him come in, and joked with
him to cover over what he had said. But the other never
forgave it, and it was that word which perhaps founded the great
conspiracy aimed at the Cardinal's ruin.
Before telling of the rest, we must mention Catalonia and
the Roussillon, as it was at Perpignan that the catastrophe
befell. In the beginning the Cardinal made no great matter
of Catalonia, for I think he had never read the Memoirs of the
League, any more than those of Charles IX, and he did not know
that it was across the Pyrenees, and not the Alps, that the
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MINIATURE PORTRAITS
Spaniards would have to be driven from Italy and from the Low
Countries. Perhaps he knew, but he wanted to make the war last
longer. However this may be, La Motte-Houdancourt sent him
by the hands of La Vallee, the King's man in the Catalonian
army, statements in which he showed clearly that he had important
understandings with Aragon and Valencia: the Cardinal,
touching this envoy's hand, said to him: " You may assure
M. de La Motte that in a short time I shall lead the King in
person into Spain." And I think that, the King being weary
of the war, would have been there in good earnest this time. To
this end he had the King make the journey to Perpignan. Dur
ing this siege, the richest men of Saragossa withdrew into
Castille and elsewhere. The Cardinal's plan was to bring the
King to Barcelona with an army of forty thousand men, to send
one of his best generals with some troops into Portugal, and
at the same time to have siege laid to Fuenterrabia ; this last
being taken (for apparently the King of Spain would not have
been able to hold this stake), the army would have passed along
the Pyrenees to unite with that of the King later. There was
only Pampeluna in the whole of Navarre to be besieged. The
King had relish enough for this enterprise, and had ordered La
Vallee to make ready the road of Our Lady of Montserrat. In
fact, eight thousand livres were given out for the purpose, but
the work was accomplished for something over a hundred
thousand francs, for the peasants, knowing that it was for the
King of France, refused to take money.. Collioure was taken
before Perpignan, but this was by the greatest luck in the world.
The castle, which is on the rock, need fear neither cannon nor
mine. But Marshal de La Meilleraye had a mine laid, with
neither rhyme nor reason to it, and this filled up the only well
that they possessed. So they had to yield not to die of thirst.
On the way into Roussillon, the Cardinal learned at Tarascon
that Machault, the master of petitions, had very lightly caused
several grain merchants to be hanged at Narbonne. He wanted
to know the details of this affair. He was told that there was
in the town a certain advocate of Paris of the name of Langlois
(he was called " Swordsmith Langlois," because his father was
of that calling, in order to distinguish from others of the same
name). This advocate had been King's procurator in the district
of Machault. Langlois attended, and, in telling his story of the
matter, always used the word Monsieur. Every one present kept
saying to him under their breath: " Say Monseigneur. Say
Monseigneur." But he went on always saying Monsieur.
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THE WKPI^AL RICHELIEU
The Cardinal laughed hugely at the zeal of all these flatterers,
and listened to Langlois with the greatest attention. When
he came out, the advocate said: " Well, at the Palace we only
speak of Monsieur. I am a Palace man, and I don't know any
other language."
To return to M. le Grand. When Admiral de Breze" had
arrived (this was about Advent in 1641), the Cardinal, anxious to
leave for Perpignan at the end of January, told him that he must
prepare to arm the vessels at Brest, and then pass the strait to
go and lie before Barcelona, in order to prevent help going
to Perpignan. A few days later, Breze entered the King's
apartment. You may imagine that the doorkeeper did not let
him knock twice! The King and M. le Grand were talking at
the bedside. Brez£, without being seen, heard M. le Grand
talking violence against the Cardinal. He withdrew, and turned
it over in his mind. He was not yet twenty-two, and was
afraid of not being believed. He resolved to follow the King
at the hunt as often as he could, and if he found M. le Grand by
himself, he would force him to take sword in hand. Once he
found a favourable moment, but seeing a dog approaching he
thought there would be people following. The next day, the
Cardinal ordered him to set off on the following day. He was
two days in hiding, having work done on his equipage. His
Eminence knew of this, sent for him, and rebuked him severely.
So at last the young man, not knowing what else could be done
now, sought out M. de Noyers, and told him what he had heard
and what he proposed to do. M. de Noyers told him that he
must not yet set off on the morrow. The Cardinal, informed of
the whole story, summoned him, thanked him for his zeal,
and sent him off, after telling him that he would arrange the matter
himself. During the journey the bitterness increased. The Cardinal
was anxious that M. le Grand should be sent away. The King,
just because the Cardinal wished it, refused — not that he still
cared for M. le Grand, as you will shortly see. His Eminence
retired to Narbonne, on the pretext of his illness, leaving Fabert
(a creature of Cardinal La Valette), captain of the guards, but
one towards whom the King showed some favour and to whom
the King had even said one day that he would like to use him to
get rid of the Cardinal. He had been chosen as a man of spirit
and sense. M. de Thou one day sounded Fabert to make him
take the side of M. le Grand. Fabert gave him to understand
that he knew a great many things and begged him to say nothing
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MINJ<ATUR£ PORTRAITS
that he was obliged to expose. " But," said the other, " you
have no recompense. You have bought your company in the
guard." " And you? " answered Fabert. " Have you no shame at
being the follower, as it were, of a youth who has only just ceased
to be a page ? You are in a much worse path than you imagine."
Well, this is how it was discovered that the King no longer
cared for M. le Grand. One day, in the King's presence, it
chanced that the talk ran on fortifications and sieges. For a long
time M. le Grand argued against Fabert, who knew rather
more about it than he. The late King then said to him: " M.
le Grand, you are wrong, you who have never seen anything,
to want to prevail over a man of experience." And immediately
he went on to make a number of remarks to M. le Grand on his
presumption, and then sat down.
In a fury, M. le Grand went and said to him foolishly:
" Your Majesty might well have dispensed with saying to me all
that has been said."
Then the King was completely carried away. M. le Grand
went out, saying under his breath to Fabert as he went: " My
thanks to you, Monsieur Fabert," as if accusing him for all that
had happened. The King wanted to know what it was, but
Fabert would not tell him. " He threatened you perhaps ? "
said the King.
" Sire," said Fabert, " threats are never made in your
presence: and moreover it would not be suffered."
" You must tell all, Monsieur Fabert " (and these are the
King's own words), " for six months the man has turned my
stomach." And he went on: " But to make things appear just
the opposite, and so that people would think that he still went on
entertaining me after every one had retired, he used to stay on
for an hour and a half in the wardrobe-room, reading Ariosto.
The two chief servants of the wardrobe were at his beck and call.
There's no man more sunk in vice, and none so little complaisant.
He's the most ungrateful creature in the world. He has made
me wait sometimes for whole hours on end in my coach, while
he was debauching himself. A kingdom would not be enough
for his extravagance. At this very moment I'm speaking to you,
he has anything up to three hundred pairs of boots! "
(The late King, when making conserves, said: " The soul
of Cinq-Mars was as black as this pot's bottom ! ")
The truth is that M. le Grand was weary of the ridiculous
life that the King led, and even more weary, perhaps, of his
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THE WZPINAL RICHELIEU
caresses. Fabert gave information on all this to the Cardinal.
M. de Chavigny, whom he sent to seek Fabert, could not believe
what he heard. That encouraged the Cardinal, who, seeing that
after this M. le Grand still had a fair face to show, guessed that there
was some great cabal supporting him ; it was this Spanish treaty.
Before setting down my conjectures on the means whereby
he came by it, I shall tell what the resolution of the Cardinal was.
A little before his Narbonne retirement, on pretext of illness,
the Cardinal dictated a declaration, the materials of which have
been burnt. He spoke of withdrawing into Provence, on
account of the Comte d'Alais, and hoped that his friends would
come to join him there. And in fact he did go off, after having
had himself told by the physicians that the sea air was so harmful
to his condition that he would never be cured unless he went
still further away. And instead of going by land, for greater
safety, he embarked on the lake to go to Tarascon, saying that
the rolling of the litter made him ill. When he was about to cross
the Rhone, the story goes that a courier, who had not found him
at Narbonne, arrived with a despatch from Marshal de Breze,
Viceroy of Catalonia, who, in four lines, informed him that a
vessel had been wrecked on the coast and that there had been
found on it the treaty of M. le Grand, or rather the treaty of
M. d'Orleans with Spain, and that he was forwarding it.
That is the story that was sent around. But it is not the
truth, as we shall tell later. Also, there is hardly any likelihood
in what was said there, and those who believed it are folk of easy
faith. The Cardinal (according to Charpentier, his chief
secretary, who is capable of being deceived like anyone else,
and who has told the story of the ship) was extremely surprised,
and bade every one withdraw, Charpentier excepted. " Let me
have a soup brought," he said, " I'm all put out." Charpentier
went to take this at the door of the room, which was then bolted
tight. And then the Cardinal, raising his hands to heaven,
said: " O Lord God, Thou must take good care of this kingdom
and of my person! Read that" (he added, to Charpentier)
" and make copies of it." Immediately he sent a special mes
senger to M. de Chavigny, with orders to come and join him,
wherever he might be. Chavigny found him at Tarascon,
for he thought it advisable to cross the Rhone. Entrusted
with a copy of the treaty, Chavigny went to the King. The
Cardinal had given him careful instructions.
" The King will tell you it is a forgery, but propose to him
to arrest M. le Grand, and that if it turns out to be false, it will
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MINIATURE PORTRAITS
be an easy matter to release him, but that if once the enemy
enters Champagne, it will not be so easy to remedy that."
The King did not fail. He burst into a horrible fury against
M. de Noyers and M. de Chavigny, and said that it was some
malice ofthe Cardinal's, who wanted to ruin M. le Grand. They
had great difficulty in bringing him to reason, but in the end
he had M. le Grand arrested, and then went to Tarascon to have
full light thrown on the matter with the Cardinal.
Well, when Fontrailles saw that the King was closeted so
long with M. de Noyers and M. de Chavigny without M. le
Grand being summoned, he said to him: " Monsieur, it is time
that we retired." But M. le Grand was unwilling. " Well,
for yourself," went on Fontrailles, " you'll still have a fine enough
figure when you have your head taken off above the shoulders.
But really I'm too small for that!" So he escaped in a Capuchin's
habit, as he had done when he went to make the treaty in Spain.
The truth concerning the means taken to get the treaty is not
yet divulged. Fabert has said that the late King had known it,
as did M. de Noyers and M. de Chavigny, and that there were no
others but the Queen, M. d'Orleans, Mazarin and he who knew
it, but that he will take good care not to tell. One day someone
asked M. le Prince by what device this treaty had been discovered,
to which he made a whispered reply. Voiture, who saw this
happen, said to M. de Chavigny: " You make a great fuss over
this precious secret, but M. le Prince has told it to so-and-so."
" M. le Prince does not know it," said Chavigny; and if he were
to know it, he would not dare tell." From which Voiture
conjectured that it came from the Queen, and in proof thereof
it was remarked that after much talk of taking her children away
from her, there was suddenly no more said of this. To this it
will be said that, if things had been so, Mme de Lansac, who
held the place of Mme de Senecey, and was at the same time
governess of the Dauphin, would not have drawn the Queen's
curtain so violently, to insult her, in informing her in a bitter
tone that M. le Grand was arrested. But this is of no import,
for, in order to give a wrong scent, all that was apparently left
to Mme de Lansac, and perhaps she was made to do so on pur
pose. Time will have more to tell us about it all.
At Lyons, the chancellor was insistent to M. le Grand that
the King loved him too dearly to let him be lost, that a little
time in prison would be the worst that could come of it, that His
Majesty would have consideration for his youth; so insistent,
indeed, that poor M. le Grand had faith in him and made full
96

THE C^RPI^HAL RICHELIEU
confession. Afterwards, from fear of the torture held before him,
which they would have applied to him to the point of death, he
held firm.
As for M. de Thou, he had not been in accord with the
Spanish arrangement, but he had always been a fomenter of
troubles. The trace of all his intrigues was found. He was
the most restless of men: M. le Grand used to dub him, " His
Restlessness M. de Thou." When he went out, he was unable
to determine, sometimes for a whole hour, where he would go.
From some ridiculous affectation of generosity, as soon as any
person was fallen into disgrace, he desired his acquaintance,
and went to offer him his services.
M. le Grand was full of spirit. He was in no way shattered
by his great reverse of fortune : on the contrary, he wrote with
great good sense, and even with elegance, to his mother, Mme
d'Effiat. He died with manly courage, but M. de Thou played
the pious hypocrite. He asked continually if there were no
trace of vanity in his humility. He wrote inscriptions for
placing on gifts which he made. In the end he made a pro
digious to-do, and it seemed, with his long talking, that he
wanted to familiarise himself with death. I consider that he
died like a pedant, he who had always lived as a cavalier, for his
cassock counted for naught. The great lords and ladies had
spoilt him, and also the belief of his descent from the counts
of Toul. If you looked into this, you would find that the family
came of humble stock: from a peasant of Athis, I have heard.
The Cardinal, who had towed M. de Thou behind him on
the Rhone, had great difficulty in reaching the Loire. (He went
to the baths at Bourbon-Lancy, but this remedy did him little
good. Pliny tells how two Roman consuls died of furunculosis
which they caught, like the Cardinal, in the Narbonne region
of Gaul. The Cardinal was subject to haemorrhoids, and Juif
had once knowingly cut him with a clumsy hand.) In order not
to incommode him, the walls of houses where he lodged were
broken down, and if it were at a height, a sloping way was made
from the courtyard, and he entered by a window from which
the casement had been removed. Twenty-four men bore him
in relays. Once he had reached the Loire, there was only the
trouble of carrying him from the barge to his dwelling. Mme
d'Aiguillon followed him in a separate barge ; many other people
did likewise, and it was like a small fleet. He was escorted by
two squadrons of cavalry, one on each bank of the river. Care
was taken to make ways for the uniting of waters that were low ;
97 o

MIUiJtATURE PORTRAITS
and for the canal of Briare, which was almost dried up, the locks
there were opened. This fine employment was given to
M. d'Enghien.
When he returned to Paris, he had the capture of Sedan
added to Europa, calling it in the piece " The Cave of Monsters."
This vision had come to him in the design he had for destroying
the monarchy of Spain. It was, as it were, a kind of manifesto.
M. Desmarest wrote the verses for it, and arranged the matter.
The Cardinal, had he been willing to use his vast power
beneficently, might have been a man whose memory would have
been blessed for ever. It is true that the cabinet gave him much
trouble. His death was a great loss, for he was always especially
partial to Paris; and since he had advanced so far it was to be
desired that he should live long enough to lay low the house of
Austria. The grandeur of his own family was his greatest folly.
To show how much he was troubled by the cabinet, it is
enough to tell how Treville caused him some unpleasant hours.
He had learned, perhaps by the testimony of M. le Grand,
that the King, pointing to Treville, had said: " Monsieur le
Grand, here is a man who will rid me of the Cardinal whenever
I choose." Treville was in command ofthe mounted musketeers
whom the King had established so as to be accompanied by them
everywhere, at the chase and elsewhere, and he himself selected
the soldiers for this corps. Sons of M. d'Uzes have been seen
in its ranks. By this means one could pay one's respects.
Treville is a native of Beam, a soldier of fortune. The Car
dinal had won over his cook, and it is said that this woman
had a pension of four hundred livres. The Cardinal refused to
leave in the King's entourage a man in whom His Majesty had
so much confidence, and M. de Chavigny went, on the Cardinal's
behalf, to urge the King to dismiss him. In all humility the
King answered: " But, Monsieur de Chavigny, it must be
remembered that my reputation is impaired, that Treville has
served me well, that he bears signs of it, that he is faithful."
" But, Sire," said M. de Chavigny, " you must also consider
that the Cardinal has served you well, that he is faithful, that
he is necessary to your State, and that you must not put Treville
in the balance against him."
" What! " said the Cardinal, when M. de Chavigny brought
back this report to him. " You did not press the King more
than that ? Did you not tell him that hq, must ? Your head is
turned, M. de Chavigny, your head is turned! "
Chavigny later vowed to him that he had said to the King:
98

the c^KPi^^L RICHELIEU
" Sire, it is essential that you should do it." The Cardinal knew
well with whom he was dealing. The King dreaded the burden,
and what is more, was afraid left the Cardinal, who held almost
every place, should revenge himself on him. In the end, Tre
ville had to be dismissed.
His Eminence believed that he would recover from his sick
ness: all the declarations againft M. d'Orleans bear the mark of
that. He hated him and despised him, and desired to have him
declared incapable of wearing the crown, so that, if the King
should happen to die (and he could not live long), this prince
should have no hand in the government.
There are some who have believed that the Cardinal had
designed to govern the Queen through Cardinal Mazarin,
and that he had had him made Cardinal to this very end. True,
M. de Chavigny was of use in preventing M. de Noyers from
being so. It has been thought that there was already an under
standing between the Queen and Cardinal Richelieu, and that it
dated from the time when he had the Spanish treaty from her.
I have heard it said that the firft time Cardinal Richelieu pre
sented Mazarin to the Queen (it was after the treaty of Cazal),
he said to her: " Madame, you will like him well: he resembles
Buckingham." I know not whether that counted for anything,
but it is thought that the Queen had an inclination towards him
at a distance, and that Cardinal Richelieu had noticed as much,
or that this resemblance gave him room to hope for such an
inclination. When Europa was played, he was not present. He had
witnessed several rehearsals with the costumes which he had made
at his own expense; his arm did not allow him to attend. He
said to his niece, on her return, pointing to Cardinal Mazarin:
" Whilft you were at the play, my niece, I was inftructing a
minifter of state." And it is said that he named him to the late
King, and that on another occasion he said: " I know of only
one man who can take my place, and yet he is a foreigner."
Others think that there is overmuch subtlety in saying what I
have said concerning the project of governing the Queen through
Cardinal Mazarin, and think that his intention was nothing but
that of introducing into affairs a man who, being both a foreigner
and his creature, would attach himself, from gratitude or from
his need for support, to Richelieu's heirs and entourage; but
it is not the firft time that he made a miftake. He took M. de
Chavigny for the greateft wit, and Morand, the magistrate to
the council, for the greateft of lawyers.99

MINJtATURE PORTRAITS
The King only went to see the Cardinal a short time before
he died, and having found his condition bad, he left in high
spirits. The Cardinal had his cautery closed up, because his
arm was becoming too thin : that may well have killed him ; he
lived scarcely any time after that. The cure of Saint-Euftache
came to attend him. It is said that he told him that he had
no enemies but those of the State, and that Mme d'Aiguillon
came in, very much heated, and said to him: " You will not die,
Monsieur, you will not die! A holy maiden, a worthy Car
melite, has had it revealed to her! "
" Come, come, niece! " he answered. " One should laugh
at such talk. One muft believe only in the Gospel."
It has been said that he died in great conftancy. Bois-Robert
says that for the last two years of his life the Cardinal had become
exceedingly scrupulous, and would not suffer the slighteft licence
in speech. He adds that the cure of Saint-Euftache, with whom
he had talked on the matter, had in no way told him that the
Cardinal met death with the conftancy that was so much cele
brated. My lord of Chartres (Lescot) has said several times
that he knew not the leaft sin in His Eminence the Cardinal.
Upon my word ! A man who would believe that must be fit to
believe anything!
1 Bitter = aigres.
2 This Lambert died young and wore himself out so cruelly in amassing wealth
that he never enjoyed a penny of it. He left a hundred thousand livres of income
to his brother.
* The H8tel de Rambouillet of the present day belonged to M. de Pisani. [T.]
4 = Pistole en sac (pistole in pouch !).

IOO

MADEMOISELLE DE GOURNAY

»HIS old maid from Picardy came
of good family. I know not how
she had chanced to come upon
Montaigne, but she boafted herself
his adopted daughter. She knew
verses, and made them, but bad
ones. Malherbe having made mock
of some of her works, she proceeded
in revenge to expose the translation
which he had made of one of the
books of Livy which had been found
at the time, and where he had trans
lated Fecere ver sacrum as they made
the execution of the sacred spring. She had had printed a book
entitled The Shadow ; or, The Gifts of the Lady of Gournay.
In this book there was a chapter of diminutives, such as pot,
potkin, potkinlet. She was asked one day by Boisrobert what
was the reason for this book's title, but she could not tell him.
" I must look in my German cabinet," she said. But after
much searching in all the drawers, she found nothing.
The Comte de Moret, the Chevalier de Bueil and Yvrande
played her many a trick in their time. On one occasion, in
mockery of some verses where she had put " Tit " for " Titus ".
they sent her these :
Tit,fils de Vesp., roi du Rom. heritage,
Des peuples inchretiens qui casserent Carthage,
Prodiguait rarement son amoureux empoix ;
Mais il aimait si fort les filles de science,
Que la Gournay eut eu son auguste semence,
II I'eut mime Titee au -plus fort de ses mois.
It is said that Desmareft was their maker.
They concocted others for her. In one place the word
foutaison occurred. " Jamyn ! " she exclaimed snorting, as her
way was, " that word is not in good use, Lord help us ! But I
should pass it all the same : 'tis true it is rather ugly."
These plagues passed off on her a letter purporting to come
IOI

MLJ^ItATURE PORTRAITS
from King James of England, wherein he asked her for her
biography and portrait. She spent six weeks in composing
her life. Then she had a daub made of herself, and sent off
the whole to England, where nobody knew what it all meant.
They tried to get her to believe that she had said that fornication
was no crime ; and one day, being asked whether pederasty
were not a crime, she answered : " God forbid that I should
condemn what Socrates practised ! " In her sense, pederasty
is commendable. But for a maiden lady that is naughty enough !
Saint-Amant ill-treated her shockingly ; for it is of her
and MaiJlet that he writes in his Le Poete Crotte. Bois-Robert
brought her to Cardinal Richelieu, who made her a compli
mentary speech composed entirely of ancient words which he
had taken from her Shadow. She saw quite well that the
Cardinal was merry. " You laugh at the poor old woman,"
she said to him. " Laugh away, great genius that you are :
for your diversion everybody muft give something." The
Cardinal was taken aback by the old maid's presence of mind,
and asked her pardon, saying to Bois-Robert : " We must do
something for Mile de Gournay. I grant her two hundred
crowns pension." "But there are her servants," said Bois-Robert.
" And who are they? " the Cardinal went on. " Mile Jamyn,"
answered Bois-Robert, "the bastard daughter of Amadis Jamyn,
the page of Ronsard." " I grant her fifty livres a year," said
the Cardinal. " And there is likewise Mme Miaou," added
Bois-Robert, " her cat." " Twenty livres pension for her,"
replied His Eminence, " on condition that she has some clothes."
" But, Your Eminence," said Bois-Robert, "she has had kittens."
And the Cardinal added one piftole more for the kittens.
She was very fond of Bois-Robert and always called him "my
good abbe." And she also feared him, on account of the tales
he told. He used to say that she had a set of false teeth made
of seals' teeth. This she took out when eating, but replaced it
so as to speak more easily, and did so very neatly ; at table,
when others were talking, she used to take out her teeth and
made hafte to put away her portion, and then put them in place
again to have her say.
She was a person of good birth, and had seen something of
fashionable life. She was generous and had some ftrength of
character. However small an obligation, she never forgot it.
On her death she left by will her copy of Ronsard to l'Estoile, as
if she deemed him alone worthy to read it. To Gombauld she
left a map of ancient Greece, worth quite twopence.
1 02

MADEMOISELLE DE gOURJJ^AY
[Note. — The following ftory, closely connected with
the Historiette of Mile de Gournay, is extracted from that
of Honorat de Bueil, Marquis de Racan (i 589-1 670),
the pastoral poet, and friend of Malherbe.]
Never did the force of genius appear so clearly in an author
as it did in Racan, for, apart from his verses, it seems that he has
no common sense. He has the face of a farmer, he stammers,
and he has never been able to pronounce his own name, for, by
ill-fortune, r and c are the two letters which he pronounces the
worst. More than once he has been forced to write his name to
make it understood. For the reft, a good fellow, and without
fineness, being made as I have just told you.
The Chevalier de Bueil and Yvrande, knowing that Racan
intended to go about three o'clock to thank Mile de Gournay,
who had given him her book, had a mind to play him a trick,
and the poor maiden lady likewise. (She, by the way, never
called him anything but " Malherbe's monkey." She gave
Malherbe a copy, too, although she had a deadly hatred for him.)
So off he went there at one o'clock. He knocked. Jamyn
went to announce to Mile de Gournay that a gentleman was
asking for her. She was writing a poem, but she rose, saying:
" A beautiful thought, but it will come back: but this gentleman
perhaps would not come back." He declared that he was Racan,
and she, knowing him only by repute, believed him. She was
moft civil to him in her own way, and thanked him especially
because, being young and handsome, he had not disdained to
come and visit a poor old woman. The Chevalier, who had wit,
told her a number of stories. She was delighted to find his
humour so agreeable, and, noticing that her cat was miaouing,
said to Jamyn: " Make pretty Puss keep quiet, to hear M. de
Racan." No sooner had this visitor gone, than Yvrande arrived.
He found the door ajar, and slipped in, saying: " I enter with
great freedom, mademoiselle, but the illuftrious Mile de Gournay
should not be treated in common fashion."
" A pleasing compliment! " cried the old maid. " Jamyn!
My tablets: I muft note it down! "
" I come to thank you, mademoiselle, for the honour you
have done me by the gift of your book."
" Ah, sir," she answered, " I have not made you the gift:
but I ought to have done so. Jamyn! A copy of my Ombre
for this gentleman." 103

MI$(I<ATURS PORTRAITS
" But I have one, mademoiselle. And to prove it, there is
such-and-such in chapter so-and-so."
And then, he told her that in return he had brought her some
verses of his own. She took them and read.
" Here is something delightful, Jamyn," she said. " Jamyn
can underftand, sir: she is the natural daughter of Amadis
Jamyn, Ronsard's page. This is charming. Here you fnalher-
bize : here you colombize. That is charming. But may I not
know your name ? "
" Mademoiselle, my name is Racan."
" Sir, you are mocking me."
" I, mademoiselle! I, mock the grea^t heroine! I, mock
the adopted daughter of the great Montaigne ! The illuftrious
maid, of whom Lipsius wrote : ' Videamus quid sit paritura ista
virgo'V " Well, well," said she. " The gentleman who has just
gone out muft have been pleased to mock me, or maybe you
yourself are bent on making mock of me. But no matter:
youth can laugh at old age. I am ftill delighted to have wel
comed two gentlemen so handsome and so witty."
Whereupon they separated. And a moment after, enter
the real Racan, all out of breath. He was rather asthmatic,
and the lady had her lodging on the third floor.
" Mademoiselle," he began without ceremony, " excuse me if
I take a seat." He behaved with a very bad grace and ham
mered the while.
" Oh, what a ridiculous face, Jamyn ! " said Mile de Gournay.
" Mademoiselle, wait for a quarter of an hour and I shall
tell you why I have come here, when I have got back my breath.
What the devil brought you to take such a high lodging ? Ah! "
— with gasping breath — " what a height it is! Mademoiselle,
I offer you my thanks for your gift, for your Omble " — so he
pronounced it — " that you gave me: I am very greatly obliged
to you." But the maiden lady gazed at this man with an air of disdain.
" Jamyn," she said, " undeceive this poor gentleman. I
have given copies only to such a one, and such: to M. de Mal
herbe and to M. de Racan."
" But, mademoiselle, I am he."
" Hark at him, Jamyn ! The splendid fellow ! The
other two were at leaft agreeable. But this one is a rascally
buffoon." " Mademoiselle, I am the true Racan."
104

MADEMOISELLE DE gOURJ^Y
" I know not who you may be," she replied, " but you are
the biggest fool of the three."
" 'Sdeath! I allow no trifling with me! "
Rage seized the old lady. Racan, not knowing what to do,
noticed a collection of verses.
" Mademoiselle," he said, " take this book, and I'll say
all my verses to you by heart."
But that gave her no appeasement. " Thieves! Thieves! "
she cried. People came upftairs. Racan slung himself on to
the cord of the ftaircase and managed to slide down by it. The
same day she learned the whole ftory, and was in despair. She
borrowed a coach and went to find him, early the next morning.
Racan was still in bed, asleep. She drew the curtain. He per
ceived her and escaped into a closet. Capitulation was necessary
to bring him out. Afterwards they were the beft friends in the
world, for she asked him pardon a hundred times. Bois-Robert
acts this excellently; the farce they made of it is called " The
Three Racans." And he played them before Racan himself,
who laughed till the tears came, saying: " It's quite tlue, it's
quite tlue ! "

105

MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE

0HE Marshal de Bassompierre came
of a good family, between France
and Luxembourg. Moft of the
places of that region have a German
name as well as a French one:
Betftein is the German name, and
Bassompierre the French.
There is quite a pleasing ftory
told. A certain Count of Ange-
weilier, married to the Countess of
Kinspein, had three daughters,
for whom he found as husbands
three gentlemen of the house of
Croy, Salm and Bassompierre respectively. To each bride he
gave an estate and a fairy pledge. Croy received a goblet and
the lands of Angeweiller; Salm, a ring and the lands of Phin-
ftingue or Feneftrange; and Bassompierre had a spoon and the
lands of Answeiller. There were three abbeys which had the
trust of these three pledges while the children were minors:
Nivelles for Croy, Remenecour for Salm, and Epinal for Bassom
pierre. Whence comes the following tale.
Once upon a time, it is said, this Count of Angeweiller
met a fairy as he was returning from the hunt, lying asleep on
a wooden couch, well fashioned for the time, in a chamber above
the door of the castle of Angeweiller. It was a Monday. Ever
after, for the space of fifteen years, the fairy never failed to come
there every Monday, and the count went there to find her. He
was accustomed to sleep over this doorway when he returned
late from the chase, or when he went off hunting in the early
morning and did not want to wake his wife: for it was at some
diftance from the keep.
At laft the countess noticed that every Monday without
exception he slept in this room, and that he never failed to go to
the hunt on that day, whatever the weather might be like, and
so she wanted to know what could be afoot. So, having had a
false key made, she surprised him abed with a beautiful lady.
Both were asleep. She contented herself with removing the
1 06

MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE
head-dress of this woman from a chair, and having spread it
out on the foot ofthe bed, she went away without making a sound.
The fairy, seeing herself thus discovered, told the count that she
could see him no more, neither there nor elsewhere; and, after
mutual shedding of tears for each other's lot, the fairy told him
that her deftiny forced her to be diftant from him by a hundred
leagues, but that in token of her love she was giving him a goblet,
a spoon and a ring, which he was to give to his three daughters,
and that these objects would bring happiness into the houses
which they would enter, so long as these pledges were kept;
but that if anyone ftole one of them, every disafter would befall
him. This has been manifefted in the house of M. de Pange, a
gentleman of Lorraine, who ftole from the Prince of Salm the
ring, which he had on his finger, one day when he found him
dozing after drinking too freely. This M. de Pange possessed
forty thousand crowns of revenue, he had fine lands, he was
steward of the treasury of the Duke of Lorraine. But, neverthe
less, on his return from Spain, where he accomplished nothing
though staying a long time, and where he muft have spent large
sums (he was there as ambassador to obtain the hand ofa daughter
of King Philip II for his mafter), he found his wife with child
by a Jesuit, and all his wealth melted away. He died of grief,
and three daughters whom he had given in marriage were all
of them abandoned.
The Marquise d'Havre, of the house of Croy, was displaying
the goblet, and let it fall. It broke into several pieces, which
she gathered up and put back into the case, saying: " If I can't
have it whole, I'll at leaft have its pieces." Next day, when the
case was opened, she found the goblet as intact as it was before.
A pretty little tale.
The marshal's father was a great Leaguer, a close friend
of M. de Guise, and a man who saw service. It was under his
roof that the oath of the League was taken among the great
seigneurs. He died suddenly at the beginning of the League.
The marshal had it in his blood to be a lover of women and a pretty
wit, for his father was something of both.
On his arrival at Court (it was after the siege of Amiens)
he fell by ill-luck into the hands of Sigongue, who was of such a
satiric turn. He was an old fox who was steward of the King's
ftables. Seeing the important air of this youth, he wished to
silence him, so, behaving like a newly-arrived provincial fellow,
he blandly begged him to be good enough to present him to His
107

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
Majefty. He went in and, with a laugh, said to the King:
" Sire, here is a gentleman newly arrived from his province,
who is anxious to pay his respects to Your Majefty." Every one
burst out laughing, and the young gentleman was put mightily
out of countenance.
It is said that, whilft he was playing with Henry the Fourth,
the King noticed that there were some half-piftole pieces among
the piftoles. Bassompierre said to him: " Sire, it is Your
Majefty who wanted to make them pass for piftoles." " 'Tis
you! " answered the King. Bassompierre took the whole pile,
put back the piftoles in their place, and then went and threw
the half-piftoles to the pages and lackeys through the window.
Upon this the Queen remarked: " Bassompierre acts the King,
and the King acts Bassompierre." The King was annoyed by
what she said. " She would be very glad if he were King," he
retorted. " She would have a younger husband." Bassom
pierre was handsome and finely made. It seems to me that
Bassompierre deserved scolding much more than did the Queen.
He has been accused of losing a friend rather than a chance
for witticism. He has never had a reputation for courage, but,
nevertheless, at Sables-d'Olonne he acquired some reputation,
paid with his own person, and pointed the way to others, for he
planted himself in the water up to his neck. As for war, he
knew about it as a man who has never heard talk of it. But
he was made Marshal of France none the less; but he wished
M. de Crequy to have precedence: they called each other
brother. Let us say something of his love affairs. It has been said
that he had been somewhat in love with the Queen-Mother.
He was magnificent in his ways, and took the capitainerie of
Monceaux, in order to feast the Court there. The Queen-
Mother said to him one day: " You will be taking a goodly
crowd of whores there." (Such was the language of the time.)
" I'll wager, Madame," said he, " that you will take more
of them than I will."
Once he told her that there were few women who were not
such. " And what of me? " she asked.
" Ah, you, Madame," he answered, " you are the Queen! "
One of his moft celebrated loves was that for Mile d'En-
tragues, the sifter of Mme de Verneuil. For some time he was
honoured by having King Henry the Fourth as a rival. Teftu,
the Chevalier of the night-guard, served His Majefty in this
matter. One day when this man was come to speak with her,
108

MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE
she concealed Bassompierre behind a tapeftry, and said to Teftu,
who reproached her for not being so heartless towards Bassom
pierre as she was towards the King, that she cared not for Bassom
pierre any more than for the other. And as she spoke she tapped
the curtain, at the place where Bassompierre was, with a switch
that she had in her hand. But I think that the King had what
he desired ; for one day the King kissed her, I know not where,
and Mile de Rohan, the deformed sifter ofthe late M. de Rohan,
inftantly penned the following quatrain to Bassompierre:
Bassompierre, on vous avertit,
Aussi bien l' affaire vous touche,
Qu'on vient de baiser une bouche
Dans la ruelle de ce lit.
To which he replied immediately thus :
Bassompierre dit qu'il s'en rit,
Et que I' affaire ne le touche ;
Celle a qui I' on baise la bouche
A mille fois 
" And I shall entruft the rhyme, when it may please you, into
your own fair hands."
Henry the Fourth said one day to Father Cotton, the Jesuit:
" How would you act if you were bedded with Mile
d'Entragues ? "
" I know what I ought to do, Sire," said he, " but I know
not whether I should do it."
" He would do a man's duty," said Bassompierre, " and not
Father Cotton's duty."
Mile d'Entragues had a son by Bassompierre, who was
long known as the Abbe" de Bassompierre, and is now M. de
Xaintes. She claimed an obligation of marriage against him,
and the suit was referred to the parliament of Rouen, where
he won the case. Bertinieres pleaded on his behalf: he was a
man who declared he did not know what it meant to be troubled
at speaking in public, and that nothing was capable of aftonishing
him. The Marshal served him in having the approbation of
the Court for the office of procurator-general to the parliament of
Rouen, and had it given him for twenty thousand crowns. On
her return from Rouen, she was showing off her little boy to
Bautru. " Isn't he pretty? " she asked.
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MINIATURE PORTRAITS
" Yes, he is," said Bautru. " But I find him looking rather
the worse since your journey to Rouen! "
She never ceased to ftyle herself " Mme de Bassompierre,"
as she ftill does. " If she needs a professional name," said
Bassompierre, " she might as well have that as any other."
He was not at that time a marshal. Later he was told that
she did not adopt the title of la Marechale de Bassompierre.
" I dare say not," he said. " After all, she has not had sight
of my baton since the promotion."
When he purchased Chaillot, the Queen-Mother said to him:
" Why have you bought that place: it's a bottle of a house."
" Madame," he said, " I am a German."
" But that isn't being in the country, it's the outskirts of
Paris." " Madame, I am so fond of Paris that I would not like ever
to leave it."
" But it's only fit to take wenches to."
" Madame, I shall take them."
It is thought that he was married to the Princess de Conti.
The cabal of the house of Guise was the cause in the end of his
being in prison, and his tongue too, in some measure, for he
said: " We shall be such fools that we shall capture La Rochelle."
He had a son by the Princess de Conti, who was called La Tour
Bassompierre, and it is thought that he would have acknowledged
him if he'd had the leisure for it. This La Tour was gallant and
well made. In a combat at which he was acting as second, having
to do with a man who for several years had loft the use of his
right arm, but had had time to accustom himself to using his left,
La Tour allowed his own right arm to be bound back and yet
succeeded in vanquishing his opponent. He lodged with the
marshal, but has since died of an illness.
In the course of every year Bassompierre won fifty thousand
crowns in play from M. de Guise. Mme de Guise offered him
a sum of ten thousand crowns a year if he would play no more
with her husband. But he answered like the fteward of Marshal
de Biron: " I should be losing too much."
He was always very, civil and very gallant. One of his
lackeys once noticed a lady crossing the courtyard of the Louvre
with no one to bear the train of her robe: he went out to take it
himself, saying: " It muft never be said that a lackey of the
Marshal de Bassompierre's left a lady in such a plight! " It
was the late Countess de La Suze, and she recounted this to the
Marshal, who at once promoted the lackey to be one of his valets.
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MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE
One could wish that there was always somebody at Court
like him: he did the honours, he received and entertained
foreigners. I said that at Court he was like Bel-Accueil in
the Roman de la Rose. This led to the nickname of Bassompierre
being beftowed everywhere on those of surpassingly healthy
looks. Wherefore a certain courtesan was styled la Bassom
pierre ; and another was so called because of her good-humour.
A youthful chair-bearer in the mountains of Savoy was dubbed
Bassompierre because he had got two girls with child at Geneva.
And talking of this cognomen of Bassompierre, a pleasant adven
ture once befell the Marshal himself on the river Loire. He
was on his way to Nantes, and a lady beseeched a place in his
vessel for herself and her daughter: she was going to Court
to have a pardon sealed on behalf of her son. They were
travelling all night. In the darkness he approached the
daughter, and was ready to enter into the forbidden room,
when suddenly a bargeman began to shout: " Turn the helm,
Bassompierre! "
This took him by surprise, and even, I think, disarranged
his plans. It was only afterwards that he learned that it was
the steersman who was thus named, on account of his being the
moft agreeable bargee on all the river Loire.
A celebrated lady of ample experience used to say that M. de
Guise was the beft measure, M. de Chevreuse the finest cor
pulence, M. de Termes the most sparkling, M. de Bassompierre
the handsomeft and the moft roguish of gallants.
Those I have juft mentioned, along with M. de Crequy and
M. de Gondy, then in charge of the galleys, used often to sup
together, and made great play amongft themselves. But as
soon as it was felt that the one who was the target was becoming
disconcerted, another would be chosen : their followers preferred
not to dine but juft to liften to them.
I have already remarked elsewhere that he never danced well ;
he was not even a particularly good horseman; he had a certain
clumsiness about him, and was not properly loosened in his limbs.
At a ballet of the King's in which he was taking part, someone
foolishly came to inform him, juft as he was dressing to make
his entry, that his mother had died. She was a good woman of
practical ability to whom he owed much. " No, no," he said.
" You're miftaken. She will not be dead until the ballet is
finished." On several occasions he went abroad as ambassador. He
was telling the late King how at Madrid he made his entry
in

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
mounted on the moft beautiful little mule imaginable, which
was sent to him in the King's name.
"Oh! A fine spectacle that muft have been," said the King,
" to see a donkey riding on a mule! "
" Very fine, Sire," said Bassompierre. " It was yourself
whom I was representing."
The Queen-Mother used to say: "I love Paris so well
and Saint-Germain so well that I should like to have one foot in
one and the other in the other."
" Have you considered, Madame," said he, " the advantages
of being at Nanterre ? "
M. de Vendome said to him, on meeting him somewhere,
" You are no doubt one of M. de Guise's faction, for you love
his sifter, Princess de Conti ? "
" That makes no difference to me," he answered. " I have
loved all of your aunts, sir: but I do not like you any the better
for that! "
Speaking of the resemblances that are to be found in every
one to some beast, he said pleasantly that his beaft was the Mar
quis de Themines. M. de La Rochefoucauld, malicious in
jefting, sought to rally de Themines on this, but the latter told
him that he would not suffer from him what he would from M.
de Bassompierre. They almoft fought.
M. de La Rochefoucauld said to him, shortly before his
arrest: " There you are ! Great and greasy and grey! "
" And there you are," he answered, " with your paint and
taint and feint! " (La Rochefoucauld had dyed his beard.)
When he was in the Bastille he made a vow not to shave until
he was out again ; but at the end of a year he had himself clipped.
He had there some sort of love affair with Mme de Gravelle,
who was a prisoner there. This lady had been the mistress of
the Marquis de Rosny, and later, for her intrigues, had been
put under arrest. Cardinal Richelieu had been inhumane
enough to have her put to the torture. After the Marshal's
death, she was foolish enough to take to wearing a widow's cap,
as well as Mme de Bassompierre.
Esprit, the Academician, went to see him in the Bastille.
" Here is someone," said Bassompierre, " who is really lord of
the land whose name he bears." Every one in the Bastille used
to say: " I shall be able to get out of here in such-and-such a
time." " And I," he used to say, " I shall get out when the
governor does."
He was unwilling to leave the prison unless asked by the
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MARSHAL DE BASSOMPIERRE
King, because, he said, he was an officer of the crown, a good
servant of the King, and unworthily treated: " and besides,
I have nothing to live on any longer." His estates were ruined.
The Marquis de Saint-Luc said to him: " Come out once,
and you'll go back sure enough afterwards." On coming out,
he said it seemed to him that Paris was so full that you could
walk from end to end of it on the roofs of coaches, and that he
could find no beards on the men and no manes on the horses.
He was not long in returning to his post of Colonel of the
Swiss guards. Coislin had been killed at Aire, and La Chatre
had succeeded him; but as he was rather partial to the Beaufort
faction, M. de Bassompierre was reinstated, he who had had four
hundred thousand livres out of it. The other had bought it
from Mme de Coislin. La Chatre and his wife, both of them
young, died in misery after that. Bassompierre soon re
established the best table of the Court, and flourished.
It is to him that we owe the fact that the Cours-la-Reine,
opposite the Invalides, ftill exifts, for it was he who would not
reft until it was recovered on the side of the water, and until a
bridge of ftone was built over the town ditch.
Although he was sixty-four, he was still agreeable and of
healthy mien. As a matter of fact he became rather a sorry jester,
for he was ever anxious that his wit should shine, and the fire of
youth was no longer his, and often he did not hit the target.
M. le Prince and his dandies used to jeft over it.
On the outer ftaircase of the Luxembourg a certain lady of
high rank, after complimenting him on his liberty, said to him:
" But you have turned very white, Marshal." " Madame,"
said he, with open grossness, "I'm like the leeks: white on top,
but green enough underneath." To a pretty girl, as consolation,
he said: " Mademoiselle, how I regret my youth when I see
you!" When Marescot returned from Rome, having failed to secure
the choice of M. de Beauvais as cardinal, he arrived with a very
bad cold. " I'm not surprised at that," said Bassompierre.
" He has come back without a hat! "
As he had robuft health, and used to say that he did not yet
know where his own ftomach was, he took no care of himself.
He used to eat great quantities of bad melons and peaches,
which never ripen properly in Paris. Afterwards, he went off to
Tamlay, where there was a wondrous upset : on his return,
he lay sick for ten days in Paris at the house of Mme de Bout-
hillier, who would not let him go until he was completely cured.
113 H

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
Yvelin, the Queen's household physician, who had business in
Paris, pressed him to return. At Provins he died during the
night, in his sleep, and died so comfortably that he was found in
the same position as he was wont to sleep in, with one hand
under the bolfter where his head was, and the knees a little
raised. His ftout and fleshy body was jolted home as far as
Chaillot, where it was found that the vitals were all damaged:
but the fact is that the body had decayed on the roads.

114

CARDINAL DE RETZ

EAN FRANCOIS DE GONDY,
now the Cardinal de Retz, is a
small dark man who can only see
what is very near him, ill made,
ugly, and clumsy-handed at every
thing. When he writes he always
makes great loops; there is not a
ftraight line, and it is all just a
scribble. I have seen for myself
that he is unable to button up his
clothes. On one occasion, at the
hunt, M. de Mercceur had to put
on his spur for him: he was quite
unable to manage it properly himself. Formerly, of all the coins,
he could recognise only the piftole and the quarter-crown. He
was deftined to be Chevalier of Malta, and, being born during a
chapter, he was Chevalier from that day on: which would have
let him be a grand cross of the order very early.
He had two brothers, both older than himself, the present
duke, and the one who was called the Marquis des Ties d'Hyeres :
the former was of fair complexion. M. de Bassompierre used to
say: " Well, as for him, it can't be said that he's of my stock."
I have said elsewhere that the mother was a great prude. This
boy used to say that he wanted to be a cardinal, in order to have
superiority over his brother, and he certainly had ambition,
but died in an unlucky way whilst hunting: having fallen from
his horse, his leg was caught in the stirrup and he was killed by a
kick on the head from the horse. With this boy gone, plans
were changed, and the young Chevalier was destined for the
Church. And so we find him as Abbe of Buzay, an abbey in
Brittany. The cassock became him better than the sword, if
not for his temperament, at leaft for his body. Even as I have
portrayed him, he had none the less nothing ofthe air ofa nincom
poop : there was something of iron in his countenance.
As early as college, the abbot displayed his haughty temper.
He could scarcely tolerate equals, and was often plunged in
quarrels. From this time also he showed his liberal feelings:
JI5

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
having learned once that a certain gentleman, quite unknown to
him, had been arrefted at the CMtelet for a matter of fifty piftoles,
he found means of obtaining this sum and sent it to him.
Leaving here, he took to styling himself the Abbe" de Retz,
finding that the name of Buzay was rather too like buzzard.
It was not yet cuftomary at that time to refrain from using the
name of a benefice; nowadays there is no ecclesiaftic, be he
never so humble, who does not call himself abbe, and those
who are such in reality take the name of their family as well.
He has told me that the ftout Comte de La Rocheguyon wanted
to give him all his property on condition that he would take the
name of Silly,1 but that at the time of his death the relatives
prevented a notary from being brought to him. In telling me
this, he said that if he had been a man of the sword, he would
have greatly loved to cut a fine figure, and that he would have
spent a great deal on clothes. I smiled. For, built as he is,
he would only have been the worse, and I think would, indeed,
have been a fearsome dancer and a fearsome horseman. More
over, he is naturally uncleanly, and especially so at table. He
is also absent-minded. So much so that at table once, as a
practical joke, a partridge's head was put on his plate: he put
it into his mouth without looking at it, and put his teeth into it.
The feathers came out on all sides. He never eats but of the
plate set before him. There is scarcely any man more sober.
He has inclinations towards love, has a fancy for gallantry,
and wants to make a ftir. But his dominant passion is ambition.
His humour is curiously restless and he is tormented almoft
continually by the bile. In his early youth he saw much of his
kinsfolk, and especially of Mme de Lesdiguieres. I think he
was in love with her, as well as with Mme de Guemenee. He
also knew M. d'Ecquevilly, his kinsman, well. This gentleman
had eyesight scarcely better than his, and it is said that once they
looked for each other in a large courtyard for a good quarter of an
hour, without managing to find each other, and that in the end
two gentlemen took them each by the hand to bring them
together. In the family society (of which Mme de Guemenee
was part), one diversion amongft others was setting each other
questions concerning L'Astree," and whoever did not answer
satisfactorily had to pay for each error with a pair of gloves
scented with frangipani. Two or three questions were sent on
a paper to one person, such as "on which hand was Bonlieu,
coming out from the bridge of La Bouteresse?" — and other
like matters, whether of history or of topography. It was
116

CARDINAL DE RETZ
certainly the way to know one's L'Astree well. So many pairs
of gloves were loft on one side and the other that it was found,
when it came to counting up, for marks were scrupulously kept,
that almoft nothing was owed by either side. D'Ecquevilly
resolved on something else. He went to read L'Astree at the
house of M. d'Urfe" himself, and, as he progressed in his reading,
he had himself taken to the spots where each adventure had
happened. Our Abbe" was on bad terms with his cousin, Mme de
Schomberg, for there were two groups, that of the Marechale
and that of Mme de Lesdiguieres, the latter being the ftronger.
At a family assembly, Mme de Lesdiguieres obliged the Abbe
to lead out Mme de Schomberg as partner to dance: she was
quite deformed, had twifted feet, and could only half walk; she
was hated; she was ugly and ill-natured.
About this time a man proposed to the Abbe" to marry I know
not what great heiress of Germany, a Catholic, whose name
I have not been able to find out; he told him that her parents,
being Lutherans, were doing her violence and that her hand
was going to be given to one named Weimar, who was at the
Academy in Paris. He lent his ear to this, and promised the
man one of his two abbeys (for he had two of them) ; the other
was called Quimperlay: they are worth eighteen thousand livres
of income, or thereabouts. I have only been able to ascertain
all this rather imperfectly. He made a journey to Germany,
where he spoke with the girl, and he even fought with this
Weimar, and won, not by skill but by headftrongness, for he is
not less valiant than M. le Prince.
It was not his only duel. He fought on another occasion,
and I think it was with the Comte d'Harcourt. I have heard
him saying that this man said to him: " I'll soon have you on
your back: this is no game for you." " But," he went on,
" he left on a great shoulder-belt of buff leather (I don't think
purposely), without which I'd certainly have wounded him, for I
drove ftraight into it." He told me all this without naming
anybody, and I have never known the origin of their quarrel.
He has also told me of a man at Court (and I learned later
that it was himself) who was once shut up in a room with a lady
of quality whose favours he enjoyed. Hearing a noise, he was
forced to open from fear of being surprised : it was some armed
men who were attacking him. He drove them back from the
door, shut it again, and returned to embrace the fair one as if
they had been in the greateft possible security. " One muft
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MINJATURE PORTRAITS
have little fear for that," he said to me. " This same man,
although he had been told that the husband wished to murder
him, did not cease to go everywhere as he was wont, and without
being otherwise accompanied." If this adventure is likely, I
leave it to be judged. But by it one may judge the temper of
the personage.He fought another duel, with the Abbe" de Praslin, now the
Marquis de Praslin, who married Mile d'Escars, younger sifter
of Mme d'Hautefort. He had the victory. But the Comte
d'Harcourt, who attended Praslin, vanquished the second of the
Abbe" de Retz.
He has always been of a meddling humour. He boafted of
knowing much concerning the designs of the Comte de Soissons,
and that one day he took a packet to the Tuileries to M. de Thou,
who afterwards said to him: " Upon my word, my good Abbd,
you muft surely think me a man of honour to have brought
me that packet: 'tis mighty free-spoken! "
The injury done by Cardinal Richelieu against the elder
Gondy for the office of the galleys, which he caused to be sold
to him in spite of the latter, had outraged the Abb£. But
without that, I wager, our man would not have ceased to be his
enemy. He was too ambitious; he boafted that he and his
father and his brother had been the only persons of ftanding
who never yielded.
When there was a queftion of taking his doctorate at the
Sorbonne, he dedicated his theses to various saints, so as not to be
forced to dedicate them to the ruling powers. He wished to gain
the advantage over the Abbe of Souillac (de la Mothe-Houdan-
court), kinsman of M. de Noyers: he is now M. de Rennes.
The authority of the Cardinal was invoked in the matter, and
plenty of suggestions were offered to the Abbe" de Retz; but he
refused to yield what he had grasped and he spoke with great
pride. It is true that the Sorbonne, in consideration of the
Cardinal Gondy, supported his interests, and, I think, repre
sented to the Cardinal that they could not abandon the nephew
of a prelate to whom they were under such obligations. So he
had the advantage over the other, and thereafter the Cardinal
always called him " the bold little fellow," and said that he had
the face of a gallows-bird. This dispute was the cause of his
parents finding it advisable that he should make a voyage into
Italy. Two of my brothers and myself were planning to go
thither, and we prayed him to approve of our keeping him com
pany. I conversed with him almoft continually during ten
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CARDINAL DE RETZ
months, and as he has as good a memory as anyone, for he knew
by heart everything he had ever learnt, he told me many facts
and stories.
I remarked that the firft work which he wrote, apart from
some sermons, was the Conjuration de Fiesque. That suited his
humour well enough. He had made an epitaph for the Comte
de Soissons, wherein he ftyled him the last of the Heroes.
He could not forgive Don Thaddeo, nephew of the then
reigning Pope Urban, for not having possessed himself of the
ftate of Urbino, which was then reverting to the Church, failing
heirs male. We never passed a place on our journeying but he
would take it by assault or otherwise. He spoke ceaselessly
of his birth. He was warmly embraced at Florence by the Grand
Duke, and lodged with the Chevalier de Gondi, who exercised
the office of secretary of ftate and had been resident in France.
The Chevalier had portraits of the French Gondis in his hall,
for they are not such great seigneurs in Italy as they are in France.
But they are gentlemen none the less : I have seen tokens enough
in Florence : but the queftion is to know whether that is not since
the favour of Albert. Quillet says that the Chevalier de Gondi
gave a laugh one day when he asked him whether the Gondis of
France were actually real Gondis. The Cardinal de Retz says
that he is the only man in France who can furnish his thirty
quarterings. (Villani and Machiavelli make no mention of the
Gondis; M. de Thou says they were sons of a banker.)
Albert, who has made the family fortunes here, was the
son of a Florentine banker who lived at Lyons, named Gondi,
Seigneur du Perron, whose wife, also an Italian, had found a
means of entering the service of Queen Catherine de Medici,
and had had charge of the nourishment of the royal children of
France in their long-clothes. It was said that she had given
a receipt to the Queen for the conception of children, for the
Queen was ten years without bearing any. And this so endeared
her to the Queen that, having attained to the regency, in less
than fifteen years, she advanced this woman's children to such
advantage that whereas, on the day of the King's death, they
had not two thousand livres income between them, Albert, on
the death of Charles IX, was firft gentleman of the chamber
and Marshal of France, with a hundred thousand livres income at
leaft in landed property, and more than eighteen hundred thou
sand in silver and personal property; his brother Pierre de Gondy,
was Bishop of Paris, with thirty or forty thousand livres revenue
in benefices, and personal property to the extent of more than
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MINJATURE PORTRAITS
two hundred thousand crowns ; and M. de La Tour, the youngest
of the three, when he died, was captain of fifty armed men,
chevalier of the order like his eldest brother, and mafter of the
wardrobe; and all three of them were in the privy council.
So much I have learnt from a contemporary, who was well
acquainted with it.
I have heard a ftory which illustrates the good sense of this
Marshal de Retz. Charles IX had a greyhound of which he was
very fond, and he knew that a certain gentleman of Normandy
had an extremely good one. He had it brought, and the gentle
man as well. A hare was ftarted with these two dogs, but the
gentleman's greyhound made a better show than his. Already
somewhat put out by this, the King recalled that this gentleman,
who was doubtless a poor enough courtier, had outftripped
him in the ardour of the chase, and suddenly the King dealt
him a blow with his riding-switch. Next day the Marshal
attended at the King's rising, and was very gloomy. " What
is the matter ? " asked the King.
" The truth of the matter is, Sire, that you have loft the heart
of all your nobility."
" I underftand you," said the King. " I am wrong. I am
no more than a gentleman myself. I want to give him satis
faction." And indeed the King begged him to excuse him, in
front of every one. At that moment news was received of a small
government falling vacant. The Marshal said to the King:
" Sire, you should give it to him." Which the King accordingly
did. The gentleman behaved well in the matter, for he always
let it be underftood that the King had given it to him of his own
free will.
The Cardinal knew that there was a manuscript of M. de
Brantome in the keeping of the MM. du Puy, containing several
volumes in one of which the loves of the Duchesse de Retz, wife
of Albert, were recounted, and many things greatly to this lady's
honour. He would not reft until MM. du Puy allowed him
to efface all that reflected upon his grandmother, and the manu
script is effaced so thoroughly that not a word of it could be
traced. The Gondy who built the Hotel de Conde" and laid out the
Gondy garden at Saint-Cloud was a man of luxurious tastes.
It is said that when he was dining once with some friends of his,
at a diftance of five leagues from Saint-Cloud, he found that there
were no cryftal glasses. He called to one of his men: " Go
and fetch me one from Saint-Cloud — and don't mind killing my
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CARDINAL DE RETZ
horse to do it." The man went. The horse succumbed on
arrival, and the man, while dismounting, broke the glass. This
man fully deserved to die a beggar, as he did.
To return to where we were, at Florence. A young gentle
man who was in his train, for he had four, and the reft in pro
portion, took it into his head to have a taffetas doublet made with
bands that were not hemmed. One day the Grand Duchess
and Mile de Guise happened to pass, and they split their sides
laughing at the sight of this extravagance, for this man was at
the door, and had the appearance of being clad in spider-webs,
so many threads did he have on his arms and body.
The Grand Duchess was one of the moft beauteous persons
in Italy, but she had only a poor fellow for a husband. He
used to wear five or six skull-caps one on top of the other, and
took some off, or put some on, according as his thermometer
indicated. When he lay with her, all the ftate of Tuscany
was in prayer. That did not often happen. I think that in the
end he had an heir.
At Venice, where we went afterwards, the ambassador of
France (it was the president Mallier) lodged him alone with a
personal servant. (The ambassador's lady, by the way, was such
a fool that she used to say " my poft," referring to the embassy.)
The Comte de Laval, brother of M. de La Trimouille, had
retired to Venice. I think that he said, speaking of the Abbe :
" He will not fail to call on me." The Abbe never went near
him, and spoke of him with very little esteem. He said that when
the Comte went to La Rochelle, the townspeople put on his
door : Neither more nor less. Which meant that they cared about
him neither more nor less.
At Rome he had a good lodging, and kept a pretty good table.
There was some talk because he knew more about this than many
cardinals and prelates. He wanted to make us believe that the
conftable Colonne, to whose house he said that of Gondi was
closely allied, had complained ftrongly that he had not seen
him, but that he had not dared, on account of the conftable
being of the Spanish party, for he was conftable of Naples.
He was no less restless at Rome than at Paris, and he made
us make a ridiculous journey in the month of November to see
the alum mines. We set off, as if it had been for some matter
of great import, in a very heavy rain, and the Italians said:
" This man's taking French leave." We were not more than
three months in Rome, and he made us set off at Chriftmas to
return to France. He pretended that a man had sought him out
121

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
in a church and had given him news which obliged him to leave
Italy promptly. (It was the birth of the King, 1638.) Although
I was only eighteen years old I could see that he was beginning
to be short of money, and he would even have been embarrassed
on his arrival, for his letters of credit were delayed, if we had not
given him all that we had to receive. For one thing he deserves
praise: that neither at Rome, nor at Venice, did he see any
women, or else he saw them so secretly that we could find out
nothing about it. He used to say that he did not want to give
anyone a grip on him.
1 Cardinal de Retz's mother was Francoise Marguerite de Silly.
2 The pastoral romance by Honore" d'Urfe.

122

LA FONTAINE

CERTAIN prentice of letters and
maker of verses, La Fontaine by
name, is likewise a great dreamer.
His father, who is the mafter of
the woods and waters of Chateau-
Thierry in Champagne, was at
Paris for a lawsuit, and said to him :
" You might go and do such-
and-such for me: it's urgent! "
La Fontaine went off, and no sooner
was he out of the house than he
forgot what his father had asked
him. He fell in with some com
panions of his, who asked him if he had anything particular to
do. " No," said he, and off he went to the playhouse with them.
Another time, coming from Paris, he tied to the bow of his
saddle a large bag of important papers. It was badly tied,
and fell off. The mail courier passed by, picked up the bag,
and having overtaken La Fontaine asked him whether he had not
loft anything. The youth looked all round : " No," said he, " I
haven't lost anything."
" Here's a bag I have found," said the other.
" Ah! That's my bag! " cried La Fontaine. " It's got all
my wealth there! "
And he carried it all the way home in his arms.
This youth went once and ftole away a little dog from the
house of the wife of the lieutenant-general of Chateau-Thierry,
because it was too good a watch-dog. And when the lady's hus
band was away he hid himself under a table of her room, which
was covered with a cloth. This lady had brought in a friend to
sleep with her. When he perceived that this friend was snoring
he approached the bed, and took the hand of the lady, who was
still awake. By good fortune, she did not cry out, and at the
same time he told her his name. She took that for so great a
sign of love, that, I think, she granted him everything, though
he said that he had somewhat less. He got out before the friend
was awakened, and as in these small towns people are always in
123

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
and out of each other's houses, nothing ftrange was noticed in
his being seen coming out at an early hour from a house which
was more or less public.
Since then, his father found him a wife, and he married out
of complaisance. His wife declares that he dreams so much,
that sometimes he is three weeks without remembering that he is
a husband. She is a coquettish creature, and her conduct has
been irregular for some time. He is in no way concerned by
that. They say to him: " But so-and-so is playing with your
wife." " Ffaith! " says he, " let him do what he can. I care
not two pins. He'll grow tired of her as I've done." This
indifference has infuriated the woman. She pines away with
chagrin. He takes his love where he finds it. A certain
procuress having retired to the town, he gave her lodging, and
one day his wife surprised them. He merely forbore, bowed,
and left.

124

THE PRESIDENT AND
BLAISE PASCAL

RESIDENT PASCAL bore this
title because of his having been
president at Clermont in Auvergne.
He is a man who has had a good
many worthy employments. He
was well-to-do, and a man of
knowledge especially, and had
applied himself to the mathe
matics; but he was more notable
in his children than in himself,
as we shall see from what follows.
When the reduction in interests
was made, he and a certain man of
Bourges, together with an advocate of the council, whose name
I have not been able to ascertain, made a great to-do, and at the
head of four hundred moneyed persons like themselves, greatly
alarmed the keeper ofthe seals, Siguier, and Cornuel. Cardinal
Richelieu had the two others put into the Baftille, but Pascal
concealed himself so well that he could not be discovered, and
was a long time without daring to show himself. In the midft
of all this, the Saintot girls and his daughter, who is now a
religious, played a comedy, of which the latter had written nearly
all the lines, being only twelve years of age at the time.
Cardinal Richelieu at this time had the fanciful idea of having
a performance of Scudery's The Prince Disguised played by
children. Bois-Robert took charge of it. He chose, as you may
guess, this Pascal girl, and took also Socratine, one of the little
Saintots, and little Bertaut, her brother. (She was called
Socratine, by the way, on account of her severity, and is now a
Carmelite nun.) The performance was a success, but the little
Pascal came out of it the beft. As she was being praised, she
asked to come down, and of her own accord, without saying any
thing to anyone, she went and threw herself at the feet of His
Eminence and recited to him, with tears, ten or twelve lines of her
125

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
making, in which she asked for the return of her father. The
Cardinal kissed her several times (for she was a pretty little thing),
praised her for her dutifulness, and said to her: " My pretty one,
write to your father and tell him to come back: I shall help him."
And in truth he did, and kept him ten years in ftewardship for
a half of Normandy, for he had renounced his function in favour
of one of his brothers. They were both natives of the Auvergne.
His daughter wrote other verses. I have some of them.
In the end, at eighteen years of age, she turned to a life of de
votion, and, as I have said, became a nun.
The president Pascal has left a son, Blaise Pascal, who gave
witness from his youth up of his inclination towards the mathe
matics. His father had forbidden him to devote himself to this
science until he had maftered Latin and Greek. This child,
between twelve and thirteen years, read Euclid in secret, and
already worked out some propositions. His father found some of
them one day. He summoned him and said: " What is this ? "
The boy, all trembling, replied: " I only amused myself
with them on holidays."
" And do you really underftand this proposition ? "
" Yes, father."-
" And where have you learnt that? "
" In Euclid. I've read the firft six books of him." (Usually
that is all one reads at firft.)
" When did you read them? "
" The firft one in an afternoon, and the others in less time,
in proportion." You should remember that one is six months before under-
ftanding them well.
Later, this boy invented a wonderful machine for arithmetic.
During the laft years of his father's office, having to work for
him on the accounts of immense sums for the faille taxes, it
occurred to him that by means of certain wheels one could make
all kinds of arithmetical rules work infallibly. He worked
at this, and made the machine, which he thought would surely be
of great service to the community. But it happened that it coft
at the leaft four hundred livres, and that it was so difficult to
make that there was only one artificer, a man at Rouen, who
could make it. Moreover, it was necessary for Pascal to be
with him. It is about fifteen inches long, and about the same
height. The Queen of Poland took away a couple. A few
amateurs had some made. This machine, and the mathematics,
ruined the health of this hapless young Pascal.
126

THE PRESIDENT AND BLAISE PASCAL
His sifter, a nun at the Port-Royal of Paris, made him
familiar with the Jansenifts. He became one himself. It was
he who wrote those beautiful Provincial Letters, which were
admired throughout Europe, and which were put into Latin by
M. Nicole. For a long time nobody knew who was their author.
For my own part, I would never have suspected it, for the mathe
matics and the art of letters scarcely accord very well together.
These people of the Port-Royal gave him the material, and he
made use of it according to his own tafte. We shall have more
to say of it in the Memoirs of the Regency.

127

THE CHEVALIER DE
ROQUELAURE NTOINE, the Chevalier de
Roquelaure, is a kind of madman,
and the greateft blasphemer in the
kingdom as well. It is said that
he has amended a little. At Malta
he was put into a well, where he
was left awhile as a punishment.
With the fleet, the Comte d'Har-
court was on the point of pitching
him overboard with a ball slung
from his feet. But that made him
no whit the better, for, a few
years later, having discovered at
Toulouse some persons as crazy as himself, he said Mass in a
tennis-court, baptized and married dogs, and committed all the
impieties you could imagine.
Juftice was informed of what went on, and men went to the
place, but the blasphemers defended themselves. But in the
end he was captured. A few days later he corrupted his gaoler
with a sum of six hundred piftoles. The gaoler escaped with
him, whereby he came to no good, for the Chevalier took his
money from him, and sent him back as a rascal. They were
pursued, and the Chevalier was recaptured. His elder brother
loft no time, and obtained a quashing of the judgment, or rather a
royal interference to prevent the matter going further. This
saved his life.
So here is the Chevalier at Paris. But inftead of retiring,
or at leaft living quietly, he walked abroad in sight of every one,
never ftirring much from the tavern, and went on leading his
usual life. A few religiously-minded people represented to the
Queen that her regency could never prosper while this sacrilege
was left unpunished. So orders were given, without Cardinal
Mazarin being informed, to the provoft of the lie de Paris to
arreft the Chevalier. Which he did, but not without taking
some of his archers, and at the Chevalier's side, Biran, one of his
128

THE CHEVALIER^DE ROQUELAURE
brothers, a great swordsman, was wounded. He was taken to the
Baftille, where he was kept a good long time. The Cardinal
gave the Marquis assurance that his brother's life was safe, and,
so far as the imprisonment was in queftion, his relatives would
have been delighted for him to be kept there for ever. There
was some murmuring at Court over this severity, and the women
even said aloud that " no man of quality had ever been known
to be arrefted for trifles like that." Mme de Longueville was
among these.
Afterwards he was taken to the Conciergerie, and there
was definite talk of his being brought to trial. At that time
someone remarked to him that he was running a risk, and that
he had God as his opponent; and he answered: " God hasn't so
many friends in parliament as I have." Although there were
plenty of witnesses, an order was nevertheless given that the sworn
information should be fuller againft him; and this was perhaps
done so that he might have time to get the witnesses to escape.
But the Chevalier opined, no doubt, that the sureft way was to
escape himself. The wife of the warden of the prison, Du Mont,
was a great coquette, and the prisoner often paid the cost of a
night's dancing on her behalf. She became infatuated with him.
He consoled himself with her quite pleasantly, won her over, and
in the end she had a hole made by which he escaped, after a
year's imprisonment. It is said that he was playing piquet with
the ftout La Taulade, who was there for his debts, when word
was brought to his ear that the hole was made. He did not wait
to be told twice, but went out saying that he had a word to speak
with someone. La Taulade, tired of waiting for him, went to
see why he was so long. He discovered the hole. The oppor
tunity seemed good to him, and he wanted to follow suit. But
no, he could not manage to get through. The measurements
had not been taken for him!
The day after the Chevalier's escape, there turned up a dozen
witnesses againft him. Perhaps he had had word of this, and
it is apparently this which obliged his lover not to delay longer.
She was arrefted, with her husband, and taken to the Chatelet.
I think there were no proofs againft her. For my own part I
should have pardoned her on account of her generous spirit. For
she had preferred to deprive herself of a man she loved, rather than
see him a prisoner.
He came back a year later, and nothing more was said. He
is a pleasant fellow enough. He calls his brother-in-law cuckold.
One does not heed all he says. It is believed that he was in love
129 1

MINJ^TURE PORTRAITS
with Madame la Princesse, and he told her all that he pleased.
He followed her to Bordeaux, but he did not follow her into
Flanders. He said pleasingly, when M. de Luynes, the Jan-
senift, sent to ask a dispensation to marry his aunt, Mile de Mont
bazon: " People of our religion would not do that." He was
very melancholy, he used to say, because he had been forbidden to
sing Mass. Once he said: " I have juft come from that brothel
of Mme de Roquelaure's." (Meaning the wife of the Marshal.)
She used to say to him: " Chevalier, I'm feeling sad: make me
laugh." One day Romainville, a man of notorious impiety, and a
friend of his, was lying at the point of death, and a Franciscan
came to hear his confession. The Chevalier took up a gun, and,
aiming at the reverend father, said: " Stand back, father, or I'll
kill you. He's lived like a dog, he muft die like a dog! " This
made Romainville laugh so heartily that he got better. None
the less, the Chevalier himself made confession some years later,
and died like a different man, saying that he did not fear any
thing save that he would not have time enough to repent properly.
He had very swollen legs, and said: " I wish to bequeath them to
Laverdens." This was a brother of his, who was very fat.

130

MARION DE L'ORME

F she had wanted to marry, Marion
de l'Orme would have had twenty-
five thousand crowns as her dowry:
her father was a man of property.
But she did not. She was a
beautiful person, and with a fine
bearing, and one who did every
thing with a good grace. She
had not a very lively wit, but she
sang well, and played pleasingly
on the theorbo. Her nose used
to get red sometimes, and for that
she would spend whole mornings
with her feet in water. She was magnificent, extravagant, and
naturally lascivious.
She admitted that she had had a desire for seven or eight
men, but not more. Des Barreaux was the firft; Rouville next
(but he is not very handsome: it was for her that he fought
with La Ferte Senectere); Miossens (to whom she wrote, from
a whim that she had to sleep with him) ; Arnould ; Cinq-Mars ;
M. de Chatillon; and M. de Brissac.
She used to tell how Cardinal Richelieu had once given her
a ring of sixty piftoles value, which came from Mme d'Aiguillon.
" I regarded that," she said, " as a trophy." She went there dis
guised as a page. She was somewhat jealous of Ninon.
Little Quillet, who was on familiar terms with her, said
that hers was the moft beautiful body one could see.
She was thirty-nine when she died, but none the less she was
as fair to look on as ever. Except for the frequency of her being
with child, she would have been beautiful until she was sixty.
Shortly before she fell ill, she took a rather ftrong dose of anti
mony to kill a child in her womb, and it was this which killed
her. She was found to have over twenty thousand crowns worth
of clothes. Gloves never lasted her more than three hours.
She took no money, nothing but finery. Moft frequently the
bargain was ftruck for so many marcs weight of silverware.
Her reckless spending and the disorder of her family affairs
131

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
obliged her to put in pledge the necklace given her by Emery.
Of this large man she used to say, that he was agreeable in
conversation, and clean. He carried through some matters of
business for her, and this necklace was not given outright: it
was in some such way as that. But he did nothing for her
brothers. Housset, now the overseer of the treasury, withdrew this
necklace and then kept it. He was aflame for her, but dared not
incur the expense.
Amelot, the chief president of the taxation tribunal, was
treating with her when she died. A little before, La Ferte
Senectere, taking advantage of the ftate of necessity in which
she was, was minded to take her to Lorraine. But she was
advised to take care not to do this, for he would have put her into
a seraglio. Chevry was always her ftop-gap, when she had no
one better.
When she went to solicit the help of the late president
de Mesmes in having her brother Baye let out of prison, where
he had been put for debts, he said to her: " Ah! mademoiselle,
is it possible that I have lived so long as this without having set
eyes on you? " He conducted her as far as the ftreet door,
handed her into her coach, and saw to her business that same
day. Juft consider how things were with her: another woman
doing as she did would have brought disgrace on her family;
but as one lived with her without loss of respect, after she was
dead, all her kinsfolk were left as they had been, and a good deal
was thought of them out of love for her. She paid almoft all of
their expenses.
She made confession ten times during the illness of which
she died, although she was ill but two or three days: she had
always something new to tell. She was to be seen lying dead on
her bed for twenty-four hours, with a maiden's crown on her head.
In the end the cure of Saint-Gervais said that this was ridiculous.
She had three sifters, all well formed. The youngeft
followed her sifter's way of life, and always will. She is spoilt
by the smallpox, but she does not leave off her accommodating
ways. Mme de la Montagne, the eldeft, was foolish enough to say,
as one does in a proverbial way: " We may be poor, but we are
honeft." Yet M. de Moret all but broke his neck once in climb
ing a rope-ladder to a room on the third floor where she had
given him an assignation. Her other older sifter was married
to Maugeron, who was treasurer of the artillery and lodged at the
132

MARION^DE L'ORME
Arsenal. The grand-mafter of the artillery, now the Marshal
de La Meilleraye, after the death of his wife, became infatuated
with her. It is said that he had lent her some diamond earrings,
and she was going to return them on the following day, when
he begged her to keep them, and afterwards pressed her in such-
wise that, not being able to have anything from her, he gave
her a slap, with the taunt that his money was as good as that of
the Duke de Retz. Scandal had been rife about him. But
the grand-mafter was not content with this. He dismissed her
husband from the Arsenal, and injured the family in every way.

133

THE SPIRIT OF MONTMARTRE

CERTAIN Collet, who lived in
the quarter of Montmartre, was
nicknamed " the spirit of Mont
martre," on account of his gift of
ventriloquy, whereby it seemed
that a spirit was speaking from far
up in the air.
With this voice of his, he has
had Masses said for the release of
souls in Purgatory. He has nearly
made people die of fright, and
has made others fall into a fever.
On one occasion Cardinal Riche
lieu was minded to make game of the Bishop of Lavaur, whom
the Jansenifts have dressed down so thoroughly, and caused this
man to mingle amongft the throng accompanying the Cardinal
to the Tuileries, amongft whom was this Bishop. In the middle
of the long alley he began to call out: "Abra de Raconis!
Abra de Raconis ! " For such was the Bishop's name. Raconis,
hearing his name called, turned his head, but said nothing for the
moment. The voice went on. He began to grow terrified. At laft,
all of a sudden, he cried out: " Monseigneur! I crave pardon
if I seem to lack the respect which I owe to your Eminence,
but for some time I have been holding myself back. There
is a voice in the air: I hear it calling me."
The Cardinal and all the others declared they heard nothing.
Silence was commanded, and the voice said to him: " I am the
soul of your father, who has been suffering long in Purgatory,
and have had permission from God to come and warn you to
change your way of life. Are you not ashamed to be paying
court to the great men of the earth, inftead of being in the
churches ? "
Raconis, paler than death itself, and imagining that the devil
was already at his heels, protefted that he was at Court only
because His Eminence had given him reason to hope that he
could be of some service there, but that  and so on and so forth.
134

THE SPIRJT OF MONTMARTRE
After having furnished some diversion by this means, Raconis
was taken to his lodging, where he almoft died of terror, and it
was more than four days before he could be disabused of his belief.
The Cardinal was somewhat ashamed of it, and, in making him
a bishop, sent him his papal bulls gratis. When he became a
bishop he took a page. He gave his name of Raconis to a hamlet
called Perdreau, near Montfort-L'Amaury. There he made a
good deal of ill-judged expenditure, for his house was not worth
the upkeep, and he handed it over to his nephew without having
paid his debts. One of his fineft qualities was his skill at a kind
of football. He was of gentle birth. He confessed to one of
his friends, during the illness that ended in his death, that his
pain at having been so cruelly handled by those Jansenifts of
Port-Royal was driving him to the grave.
This same Collet played an identical trick, and at the same
place, on M. Mangot, the magiftrate to the council. He put
him on his knees as he did Raconis. Neufvillette had in his
regiment of light horse a trooper who could do this trick, and
used to make the peasants bring their money and their clothes
and everything they had, to wherever suited him, and then went
to collect the booty when they were gone off.

*3S

MADEMOISELLE PAULET

NGELIQUE PAULET was the
daughter of a native of Languedoc
who invented the tax known as the
Paulette, a device which was per
haps the ruin of France. Her
mother was of very humble origins,
and of a family ill-famed for their
love affairs. She used to say that
her father was a gentleman. Her
mother led rather a rakish exiftence.
Mile Paulet had great vivacity, was
pretty, danced well, played upon
the lute, and sang more sweetly
than anyone of her time : the ftory is told that two nightingales
were found dead beside a fountain where she had been singing
all day. But she had hair so golden that it could pass for red.
The father, wishing to profit by the beauty of his daughter,
and the mother, who was a coquette, received all the Court
under their roof. M. de Guise was the firft man whose name
was mentioned with hers. It used to be said that he left a shoe
in coming down out of a window. He said he had always a
vision of the little Paulet before his eyes. M. de Chevreuse
followed, and it was this affair which did her fame the moft harm,
for he had given her jewels to the tune of twenty thousand crowns
in a casket. She entrufted this to one named Descoudrais, from
whom he had it ftolen.
The ballet of the Queen-Mother, of which I have spoken
elsewhere, was performed about this time. In it she sang
those lines of Lingendes which began :
Je suis cet Amphion, etc.
Well, although that would have suited Arion better, she was
none the less mounted on a dolphin, and this gave rise to the
verse : Qui fit le mieux au ballet ?
Cefut la petite Paulet
Montee sur le dauphin,
Qui monta sur elle enfin.
136

MADEMOISELLE PAULET
But the Dauphin made no great success, and his father took his
place. Henry the Fourth, at this ballet, was eager to welcome
the fair singer afterwards. And every one combined to see that
he satisfied his wish. It was to her that he was going on the
day he was killed. It was to take M. de Vendome there. He
wanted to make this prince a gallant: perhaps he had already
noticed that this young gentleman had no tafte for women.
The Chevalier de Guise also was a lover of Mile Paulet's.
M. de Bellegarde, M. de Termes and M. de Montmorency were
also among her adorers. M. de Termes treated his feeling
lightly enough, but in real fact he was deeply in love with her.
His brother was not otherwise, but he would have been angry
had he thought that his brother had had more success with her
than he. This M. de Termes played Mile Paulet an unkind
trick. A youth belonging to Bordeaux, named Pontac, of good
origin and well-to-do, wished to marry her, it is said. Termes
without warning thrashed him with a ftick. He retired to
Bordeaux, and she afterwards refused ever to see a lover who
treated his rivals with such cruelty.
Some time afterwards she separated from her mother, and
withdrew for some days to Chatillon, with an honeft woman
named Mme Du Jardin, with whom she lived in Paris. She had
already taken leave of M. de Montmorency, who was then very
young. He imagined he would be able to enter her house
more easily in the country than in Paris, and set off alone on
horseback to go there. Some charcoal-burners, to a considerable
number, for it was on the road to Chevreuse, where much char
coal is made, saw this well-fashioned youth, quite alone, and were
convinced that he was going to fight. They surrounded him
and made him promise not to pass further. It was so near to
Chatillon that Mile Paulet recognised him, and nearly died of
laughing over the adventure. It seems that, for fear of being
recognised, he preferred to turn back. This Mme Du Jardin,
a woman of piety, retired to Ville-L'EvSque, where she lived
as if she were a nun. This obliged MUe Paulet to take a house
separately. It was at this time that her mother died.
Mme de Rambouillet, who had been drawn towards this girl
from the time of the Queen-Mother's ballet, after having let
a good time go paft for the purging of her reputation, and seeing
that in her retirement no ill had been spoken of her, began to
allow Mile Paulet to see her from time to time. This was at
the requeft of Mme de Clermont-d'Entragues, a woman of high
virtue and a good friend of hers. Mme de Clermont had taken
137

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
the girl so much into her friendship that she would not rest until
Mile Paulet came to lodge with her. Her husband, a very foolish
man otherwise, for a long time thwarted their friendship, either
because he was afraid of the reputation that the girl had had,
or, as seems more likely, for Mme de Clermont is not at all
pretty, because he feared that his wife made gifts to Mile Paulet,
who at that time was going to law againft several persons for
the recovery of her property. It was this friendship which
was moft helpful to Mile Paulet in reftoring her good fame, for
after this Mme de Rambouillet received her as a friend, and this
lady's high virtue purified, as it were, Mile Paulet, who was
afterwards cherished and esteemed by all.
She obtained about twenty thousand crowns of her wealth,
with which she carried out great works of charity. She used to
provide for an aged kinswoman at her own house.
The ardour of her love, her courage, her pride, her lively
eyes, and her too golden hair led to her being given the name
of " the Lioness." One quality of hers which did not betoken
a good judgment was that she used to affect an intolerable prudery.
She sent to the Madelonettes a girl of her household who found
herself with child, and afterwards she "took one so ugly that
the devil himself would have been afraid of her. She did not
write at all well, and sometimes she showed a rather malicious
tongue. She loved and hated with equal violence. It was she
and Mme de Clermont who introduced M. Godeau, later Bishop
of Grasse, to the Hotel de Rambouillet.
One evening she went to the Hotel de Rambouillet disguised
as a paftry hawker. Her basket was one of those Flemish
ones with pink ribbons, her linen dress being all covered with
ribbons and her little flat bonnet in the same style. She played
with the little pastries, and was not recognised until she sang
the song. She did not lack lovers after her conversion, but of none was
any wrong spoken. Voiture said that she had as her devoted
servants a cardinal (for Cardinal La Valette used laughingly
to call her his mistress); a doctor of theology (this was an
impertinent fellow named Dubois); a merchant of the Rue
Aubry-Boucher (one Bodeau, a linen merchant); a commandant
of Malta (the commandant de Sillery); a councillor of the
Court; a poet (Bordier, the royal poet for the ballets, an imperti
nent creature who thought to turn her mad) ; and a town provost
(a certain Saint-Brisson Seguier).
This gentleman of the Rue Aubry-Boucher was a character.
138

MADEMOISELLE PAULET
He was possessed of a great friendship for Mme de Rambouillet,
but that which he cherished for Mile Paulet could be called love.
On the late King's entry on the return from La Rochelle, he
took it into his head, for he was the captain of his quarter, to
put all his soldiers into green uniforms, for this was the colour
of the fair lady. All these "green gallants" of his went and fired
a salvo before the house where she was with Mme de Rambouillet,
Mme de Clermont and others. The Lioness, who took no
pleasure in having the affection of such a person, was blushing
over it for a good hour. But, none the less, she had to overcome
her wrath and go with the others to her gallant's garden in the
Saint-Victor quarter, where he offered them a banquet. His
wife happened to die, and he married again a person whom
he desired excessively because she bore a resemblance to MUe
Paulet. At the age of sixty he went on pilgrimage to Rome.
If the Lioness had ftill been alive when this man's daughter
showed such ill-temper againft Mme de Saint-Etienne, how she
would have devoured her!
But I was forgetting a pretty compliment which Mme de
Rambouillet paid to MUe Paulet the firft time that she visited
Rambouillet. She had her received at the entrance to the town
by all the faireft maidens of the place, and by those of the house
itself, all crowned with flowers and very prettily dressed. One
of them, more conspicuously decked than her companions,
presented her with the keys of the caftle, and when she set foot
on the bridge, two small pieces of artillery on one of the towers
were fired.
MUe de Paulet died in 1651, under Mme de Clermont's
roof, in Gascony, whither she had gone to keep her company.
The Bishop of Grasse (M. Godeau) went there expressly from
Provence to attend at her death-bed. She appeared to be barely
forty, but yet she" was fifty-nine. Every one would have it that
she was older than she was. Which came from her having made
such a ftir very early in life.

139

FATHER ANDRE

i HE Auguftinian Father Andre,
vulgarly known as " Little Father
Andre," belonged to the Boulanger
family of Paris, a good family
connected with the law. He
preached an infinite number of
Lenten and Advent sermons, but
he always preached like a mounte
bank, not because he had the inten
tion of making people laugh, but
because he was by nature a buffoon,
and had even a certain resemblance
in his face to the charlatan Tabarin.
In conversation he spoke juft as he preached.
He made so little endeavour that when he had said some
rascalities, he used to punish himself. But he was born to do
these things, and could not prevent himself. When he was
preaching an Advent sermon in the Saint-Germain parish, the
late Archbishop of Paris, urged by I know not what cabal of
monks of whom he was one of the leaders, sent to fetch him
and kept him in confinement at the Archbishop's palace. The
Bishop of Metz took offence at this, saying that " the Archbishop
had no power to have a religious arrefted who was preaching
in a parish depending from the abbey of Saint-Germain." And
he succeeded in having him released, but on condition that he
would preach more prudently. So he climbed into his pulpit
again, but never in his life was he so hampered : he was so afraid
of saying something that would offend that he said not a word
that was worth anything, and was obliged to make an end rather
abruptly. He was a good religious and had a great following
of all manner of people : by some, for amusement, but by the
reft because he appealed to them. The truth is that he had a
talent for preaching. A number of ftories are told of him, of
which I have collected the best.
He said once that " Saint Chriftopher almost threw the
little Jesus into the ftream, so heavy did he find Him : but you
cannot drown anyone who has been hanged."
140

FATHER^ ANDRE
Preaching Lenten sermons at Saint-Andre-des-Arcs, he
kept complaining that the ladies came to church too late.
" When the servant comes to waken you," he told them,
Goodness gracious,' you say, ' what an agony to rise so early! '
And you argue with your pillow. ' Marie! ' you say to your
chambermaid, ' I'll wager that clock hasn't ftruck yet: you're
always hurrying me so. It isn't so late as you say.' Oh,
if / were there! " he added, " Pd set you ftirring with a ven
geance! "
Speaking of Saint Luke, he said that " he was the Queen-
Mother's painter, and that by a better title than that of Rubens,
who painted the gallery of the Luxembourg: for is he not the
painter of the Queen-Mother of God? "
He was preaching once on the text: I have bought a piece of
ground and I must needs go and see it. " What a fool you are! "
said he, " you ought to go and see it before buying."
On the feaft of the Magdalene, he ftarted to describe the
gallants of Mary Magdalene, and he dressed them in the fashion
of the moment: "Ina word," he said, " they were togged up
like those two great donkeys there in front of my pulpit." And
every one rose in their places to see two fops there, who, for
their part, took good care not to rise. Another day, after
delivering a great harangue againft the dissolute life of this
unfortunate sinner, the Magdalene, he was seized with an idea:
" Down there," he said, " I can see one who is very like the
Magdalene, and now, because she does not mend her ways, I
am going to mark her out and throw my handkerchief at her
head." And as he said the words, he took his handkerchief
and made as if to throw it. At once all the women lowered their
heads. " Ah! " he cried, " I thought there was but one. And
here there turn out to be a hundred and more! "
He used to say that there were " men-Magdalenes " as
well as the female sort. " Our father Saint Auguftine," he
said, " was juft such a one for many a long day." And then,
describing the perfumes of Mary Magdalene, he said: " She
had water. Angel water, think you? No, it was black angel
water, water of the fiend, water of Satan ! "
And that reminds me of a tale told of a preacher of Francis
the First's time. " The Magdalene," he said, " was not juft
an ordinary little light-o'-love, like the ones that might give
themselves to you or me. No, she was a great one like Mme
d'Etampes! " Mme d'Etampes had him forbidden the pulpit.
A few years afterwards, having been reinftated as a preacher,
141

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
he was discoursing on the feaft of the Magdalene, and said:
" My brethren, I once found myself in trouble for making
comparisons. You muft picture the Magdalene to yourselves
as you please. Let us pass over the firft part of her life and
come to the second."
Father Andre once compared women to an apple-tree stand
ing on the highway. " The passers-by grow desirous of these
apples. Some pluck them, others knock them down. And
there are even some who climb up and shake them for you like
the very deuce! " He said to some women hearers: " You
complain of the faft-days. They make you thin, you say?
Wait, wait a moment," he said, and brandished a ftout arm.
" I faft every day, and this is the very least of my members! "
" All women have slanderous tongues," he said. " I'll
wager there is not one who has not. Let her ftand up ! " Then
he paused. " Well," he went on, " you see that not one dares
to rise." An advocate went to make confession to him, and had very
little to tell. As penance he ordered him to go to his afternoon
sermon. The advocate was there. The Gospel of the day was
Dtemonium mutum, etc. " Do you know," said he, " what a
damonium mutum is? I shall tell you. It is an advocate at the
feet of his confessor. At the bar they have plenty to chatter
about, but before a confessor, devil a word can you get out of
them." He had a grudge againft the cure of Saint-Severin, and
turned his discourse on to the keeping of sheep and the need for
good dogs to protect them. " You, my brethren," said he,
addressing the parishioners, " you have a good dog of a cure ! "
To prove how honour resides in him who honours rather
than in him who is honoured, he said: " For example, when
I meet my cousin, the good president Boulanger here, he makes
me a reverence : but the reverence resides in him." In order to
please M. Talon, the advocate-general, who was among his
hearers, he said, speaking of Cicero: " Cicero, my brethren,
was a great advocate-general."
From the Catholic point of view concerning the Eucharift,
he could not have uttered a greater piece of foolishness than that
which he did once in preaching on the Blessed Sacrament:
" Now enough of this," he said. " For the physicians say,
' Omnis saturatio mala, panis autem pessima : all repletion is bad,
but that of bread is worft of all '."
He once began a sermon thus: " Hay of the Pope, hay of
142

FATHER^ ANDRE
the King, hay of the Queen, hay of His Eminence the Cardinal,
hay of you, hay of myself, all flesh is as grass and withereth."
He made the soldiers of Holofernes speak thus, after they
had seen Judith: " Comrades, who is there amongft you,
after seeing such fair women, tam delectas mulieres, who will not
be desirous of burfting the barricade? "
And I have heard him preaching on the Transfiguration:
" This took place," he said, " upon a mountain. I don't know
what it is that mountains have done to God, but when He speaks
with Moses, it is on a mountain : He nowhere showed him more
than His back, and talked to him like a lady in a mask. And
when He gave forth the Law, it was on a mountain again. The
sacrifice of Abraham: a mountain again. The sacrifice of Our
Lord: once again on a mountain. He will do nothing miracu
lous except on these mountains. So the Transfiguration is not
likely to be a matter of a valley."
Seeing people crowded right up on to the altar, when he
entered the pulpit, he said: " Behold the prophecy is accom
plished: super altare vitulos."
He was preaching once in a convent of Carmelites on the
chapel of which a thunderbolt had fallen without one of them
being hurt. " Ah! " said he, " see what a blessing of God is
here! If the thunderbolt had fallen on the kitchen, not one
would have escaped! " There is a saying about " Carmelites
in the kitchen."
Talking of romances he used to say: " It's all in vain my
making ladies leave off reading them: as soon as my back's
turned, their noses are in them."
" Paradise," he said, " is like a town. But it is a town
like La Rochelle: it cannot be taken without block-and-tackle."
Speaking of David, he said that when he entered into Paradise,
the Lord God, seeing him coming from far off, said: " Who is
this?" And then, when he was nearer: "Why! It is My
good servant David! Come along, come along, give Me your
arm! " On the feaft of the Ascension, describing the reception
given to Jesus Christ in Heaven, he said that God said to David:
" Have all the music ready: here is My Son coming! "
Once he invented letters-patent for the King of Nineveh:
We, Ninus, etc., to all the citizens and habitants whatsoever
of our good city of Nineveh, make known by these presents that,
on the counsel given to Us by our right trusty and well-beloved Master
Jonas, that God, etc., hereby have ordained and do ordain that, etc.,
and whereas the aforesaid Master Jonas is the prophet of the afore-
x43 .

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
said God, etc. Ten times there were " the aforesaid Jonas "
and " the aforesaid God."
During Lent one day he compared charity to Jacob's ladder,
and declared that it was not a ladder of oak or of ash, but that
the firft rung was herring, the second cod, and so on, naming all
the meats of Lent, " which," he added, " should be sent to the
convent of the Auguftinians."
Preaching before some nuns who had pressed him to give
them a sermon, he said to them: " Well, here I am! Because
I'm Boulanger, you imagine I always have bread ready baked.
But you do not think how many things I have to do." He began
to recount to them all his occupations. Later, he compared a
girl entering into religion to a ball of wool ready for the spinning.
" A novice," he said, " is like a piece of elder-wood or paper
on which you begin to wind the firft needlefuls; but, however
well it may be done, there is always one little breach that can
never be ftopped."
At Poitiers the Jesuits beseeched him to preach on Saint
Ignatius, and he had a mind to rap them over the knuckles.
He invented a dialogue between God and the saint, who was
asking God for a place for his order. " I know not where to
put you," said the Lord. " All the deserts are already taken up
with Saint Benedict and Saint Bruno. . . ." He carried on a
conversation of all the places occupied by the principal orders.
" Juft put us down," said Ignatius, " where there is something to
take, and leave us to do the reft." On his way out, he said
to a friend of his: " I would only preach here after dinner, for
I knew quite well that otherwise they would have given me very
poor cheer."
Another time, at Paris, he gave some more food for reflection
to the Jesuits, on a similar occasion. " Christianity," he said,
" is like a great salad. The nations are its leaves; the salt,
the vinegar, these are the tribulations and the doctors: vos
estis sal terra ; and the oil, this is the good Jesuit fathers.
Is there anything more soothing than a good Jesuit father?
Go to confession elsewhere^ and the prieft will say to you: ' If
you persift in these ways, you will be damned.' But a Jesuit
will soften everything. And then, however little the spot of oil
that falls upon a dress, it will spread, and before you have noticed
it will make a great mark: and so, put a good Jesuit father in
a province, and very soon 'twill be covered with them." The
Jesuits complained to him in person of what he had said: " I am
extremely sorry, fathers," he said to them. " But I let myself
144

FATHER^ ANDRE
be carried away. I did not know what to say to you. Now
look, in four days' time it is the feaft of our founder, Saint
Auguftine. Come and preach in our church, and say whatever
you choose: I shall not be in the leaft angry."
One day he learned that Mme de La Trimouille was present
at his sermon incognito. He was speaking of the prodigal son,
and set out to provide him with a train which was exactly that of
the Duchess. " He had," said he, " half a dozen splendid
dapple-grey horses, a fine carriage with red velvet and trimmings
of gold, a grand cloth over it, coats of arms in plenty, a crowd of
pages, and a hoft of lackeys in yellow livery with trimmings of
black and white."
He said that Paradise was a great city. " There is a Martyrs*
Street, and a Confessors' Street ; but there's no Virgins' Street :
that is only a little blind alley, and a very narrow one, a very
narrow one! "
" A Catholic," he said once, " does six times more on a piece
of work than a Huguenot. Your Huguenot goes slowly, like
his psalms, Lift up your hearts, and so on. But a Catholic will
sing: Go call my Robinette,
And bid her come to me, etc.,
And as he said this, he made the action of one using a file. The
ftory, as I have heard, comes from Sedan, where Du Moulin
said to a gunsmith who was singing Go call my Robinette, " You
would do better to sing a psalm or two." To which the gunsmith
replied, " But look how faft my file goes when I sing Robinette.
Do you see ? And look how slowly it goes when I sing Lift up
your hearts."
Speaking of Hosanna, he said that the children were up in
a tree: " I cannot tell you its name for the moment, but I will
later on." After his sermon was over, he said: " Brethren, that
tree I was speaking of — it was a sycamore."
"The Gospel," he said once, "is a gentle law. Jesus
Chrift has told us it, and we muft believe it." At that moment
a couple of Jesuits came in. " Wait! " he said. " Here are two
of the companions of Jesus juft come in. Ask them if it is not
true." This calls to my mind a certain Du Four, who, during
the Huguenot wars, came upon some Jesuits on horseback, and
asked them who they were. "We belong," they answered,
" to the regiment of Jesus."
" Yes, I know it, my brave captain," he said. " But it's
145 k

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
infantry. On foot, my fathers, on foot! " And he took their
horses away.
Preaching on the patience of God, he said: " God waits
His time for very long before He ftrikes. He threatens, but He
ftrikes not. It is like the huntsman you see there on that
tapeftry. For perhaps a hundred years he has been pointing his
spear at that ftag. But ftill he does not strike, and perhaps there
are not four finger-breadths between them."
He used to say that no one had ever prayed to God so much
as did Saint Joseph, for the Child Jesus served him as an appren
tice, and so he was for ever saying to Him: " Give me this,
please; now give me that; now bring me that auger, please."
" God wants peace," he said in the time of Cardinal Riche
lieu. "Yes, God wants peace, the King wants it, the Queen
wants it, but the Devil doesn't! "

146

DANIEL DU MOUSTIER

AINTED in crayon, Du
Mouftier's portraits were only
heads, and smaller than life-size.
He knew Italian and Spanish. I
think he was fond of reading, and
had a goodly number of books.
He was a small man, almoft always
with a skullcap on his ears, with
an inborn weakness for women,
foul in his speech, but a good
fellow and a man of worth. He
was lodged in the galleries of the
Louvre as a craftsman of fame,
but it was his manner of living and talking that attracted
people there rather than his works. His working-room was
curious. On the ftaircase there ftood a large pair of horns, and
underneath the inscription : Behold Your Own ! On his books
was written : The Devil fly away with borrowers of books !
There was a writing-tablet on which he had written: The
Tablet of Fools. Father Arnoul, the King's confessor, who was
a pompous Jesuit, asked him once who these fools were. " Look
inside," he said, " you'll find yourself there." Another Jesuit
found that he was included, and having asked why, without telling
who he himself was, received the answer from Du Mouftier, who
was ftorming, for he had no love for the Jesuits: " Because he
said that Henry the Fourth had been nourished on fteel biscuits! "
Talking about books, he used himself to tell of a feat at a book
seller's at the Pont Neuf, which was simply thieving — but there
are many people who think that stealing books is not ftealing,
so long as they do not sell them again afterwards. He spied
for the moment when this bookseller was not in his shop, and
then picked up a certain volume which he had long been looking
for. Moft of those he had, I think, had been given to him.
He knew by heart more than half of two folio volumes of the
two Proteftant ministers, Aubertin and Le Faucher, on the matter
of the Eucharift, and he had painted them, and another as well
named Daille. Du Mouftier was a Catholic only for effect.
He had a small separate room, full of the Postures of Aretino.
H7

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
Moreover, he knew all the bawdy epigrams in the French tongue.
I met a cousin-german of his at Rome, of the same calling,
who also knew a thousand verses of that kind.
For physicians he had no greater love than for the Jesuits.
" The magnificent butchers of Nature," he called them.
Nicolas de Verdun, the president of the parliament, was eager
to see him, and one of his friends offered to bring him. " I'm
not blind and I'm not a child," he said. " I shall go by myself."
He went. The president was giving audience to a great many
persons, but at last he said: " I have a headache," and every one
was asked to withdraw. There was only Du Mouftier left; he
said that he wished to speak to M. the president, who had been
desirous of seeing him. So he came and had himself announced
as Du Mouftier. "You?" said the president. " M. Du
Mouftier? You are a very good-looking man for M. Du
Mouftier." The latter looked round to see if no one could hear
him, and then, going near to M. de Verdun, he said: " I'm
a better-looking man for Du Mouftier than you are for the presi
dent." (He had a crooked mouth.) "Ah!" exclaimed the
president. " Now I recognise that it's really you! " And they
talked together for two hours in the moft familiar way
possible. When he was painting, he used to let his sitters do as they
pleased. Only sometimes would he say: " Turn round." He
made them better looking than they really were, and gave this
excuse: " They are foolish enough to think that they are like
my drawings of them, and pay me all the better."
He had painted M. de Gordes, captain of the body-guards.
This was done at the command of the late King. " Otherwise,"
said Du Mouftier, " I could never have brought myself to do it:
he's far too ugly." He called him " the devil's younger brother."
Once when he was at the house of M. d'Orleans, Du Pleix,
the hiftorian, came, and M. d'Orleans paid him several compli
ments on his hiftory. " There is only this man here," said Du
Pleix, pointing to Du Mouftier, "who is an enemy of mine."
" An enemy of yours! " exclaimed Du Mouftier. " You have
done me no injury, nor any good either. But in very truth, I
could not suffer that you, being a creature of our Queen Margaret,
should tear her in pieces as you do. She is of the royal house
too. If I had credit in France, I would have you chastised. And
then, you are going to aver that formerly in France all men were
perverted, and only married when they had wearied of that."
Under the portrait of Mile de Rohan he had put: The
148

DANJEL DU MOUSTIER^
Princess Gloriette, and under that of the Comte de Harcourt:
The Paragon of Younger Princes. Beneath that of a certain Mme
de la Grilliere, he had written : She has only forgotten to pay.
There is a Flemish painter named Vaillant, of Lille, who works
in crayon like him, and, when he was not paid, used to draw
a sort of grille over their portraits, and say that he was keeping
them in prison until they paid their debts.
The fineft adventure that befell him was when the Cardinal
Barberini, having come as legate to France during the pontificate
of his uncle, had the curiosity to come and see Du Mouftier's
room, and Du Mouftier himself. Innocent the Tenth, then
Monsignor Pamphilio, was at that time datary and the chief
of the legate's suite. He accompanied him to Du Mouftier's,
and, seeing on the table a copy of the History of the Council of Trent
in the superb London edition, said within himself: " Well, it's
a nice thing that a man like this should have such a rare book."
And he took it and put it beneath his cassock, thinking that he had
not been noticed. But the little man, who had one eye on the
look-out, saw quite well what the datary had done, and, in a fury,
said to the legate that " he was extremely obliged for the honour
that His Eminence had done him, but it was shameful that he
should have thieves in his train." And forthwith, seizing
Pamphilio by the shoulders, he threw him out, calling him " the
burgomafter of Sodom," and taking the book from him.
Later, when Pamphilio was made Pope, Du Mouftier was
told that the Pope would excommunicate him and that he would
turn as black as charcoal. " He will give me the greateft
pleasure," said he. " I am too white on the head as it is."
Malherbe said much the same once to M. de Bellegarde. And
the Marshal de Roquelaure before them had the same idea;
Henry the Fourth said one day to him: " But how comes it
that now that I am King of a peaceful France, and have every
thing I could desire, I have no appetite, whilft in Beam, when
I hadn't a cruft to put my teeth into, I had a raging hunger? "
" The fact is," said the Marshal, " that you were then excom
municated: there's nothing like it for giving an appetite."
" But if the Pope had known that," said the King, " he would
excommunicate you." " He would do me a great honour,"
said Roquelaure, "for I am beginning to turn very white,
and I should then be as black as I was in my youth."
On the death of Du Mouftier, the chancellor, at the inftiga-
tion of the Jesuits, had all books againft them which were in his
possession bought up and burned. 149

MARGUERITE DE VALOIS
F Queen Marguerite I shall say
nothing that is not to be found in
her Memoirs, or in those which
M. de Peiresc left to M. Dupuy.
She was beautiful in her youth,
except for her cheeks being some
what pendulous, and her having too
long a face. Never was there any
one with more of a taste for
gallantry. She had a kind of paper
with its margins covered with
trophies of love. This was the
paper she used for her love letters. She spoke phebus x accord
ing to the fashion of the time, but she had a deal of wit.
There is a piece of hers remaining, which she entitled La
Ruelle mal assortie, where can be seen the ftyle of her gallantries.
She used to wear a kind of great hoop under her dress, with
pockets all around it, in each of which she put a box containing
the heart of one of her dead lovers, for she was careful, as each
one came to die, to have his heart embalmed. This hoop hung
every night on a hook, fixed with a padlock, behind the headpiece
of her bed.
She became disguftingly fat, and as this became more pro
nounced, she had her skirts fashioned much longer than they need
be, and her sleeves in proportion. Her head was dressed with
blond hair, of the fairness of tow bleached on grass. She had
turned bald early, and to remedy this she had big fair-headed
footmen who were shorn from time to time. She always kept
some of this hair in her pocket, for fear of being in want of it,
and in order to improve her figure she had herself fitted with
pieces of tin on both sides of her body to widen the span of her
shoulders. There was many a door through" which she could
never pass.
Towards the end of her days she loved a musician named
Villars. This fellow always had to have his breeches turned up
and stockings attached, although nobody wore them thus any
more. He was vulgarly called " King Margot." She had
J5°

MARgUERJTE DE VALOIS
several bastard children, one of whom, it is said, survived and
became a Capuchin. The existence of " King Margot " did not
in the leaft prevent the good Queen from being very devout
and having a wholesome fear of God in her heart, for she used
to have a ftrange number of Masses and vespers said.
Apart from her craziness in love, she was highly reasonable.
She would in no way consent to the dissolution of her marriage
in favour of Mme de Beaufort. She had a lively mind and knew
how to trim her sails to circumstances. She paid a thousand
gentle flatteries to the late Queen-Mother, Marie de Medicis,
and when M. de Souvray and M. de Pluvinel brought the late
King to her, she cried out: " Ah, how beautiful he is! How
fine of build ! Happy indeed is the Chiron who has the rearing
of this Achilles! " Pluvinel, who was scarcely more subtle of
spirit than his horses (he was under-governor and chief of the
great ftables), said to M. de Souvray: " Did I not tell you that
this wicked woman would fling some insult at us?" M. de
Souvray himself was hardly more able a man. There were some
verses made about this time called Visions of the Court, wherein
it was said of him that " he had nothing of Chiron about him,
save the hind-quarters."
Henry the Fourth used sometimes to visit Queen Marguerite
and grumbled because the Queen-Mother did not go forward far
enough to greet her at the firft visit. During her meals she
always had some men of letters to discourse. Pitard, who has
written on morals, was of her household, and she made him talk
quite often.
The late King once conceived the dancing of a ballet of the
old Court, wherein, amongft other persons represented, there was
shown Queen Marguerite with the ridiculous figure she affected
in her laft days. This scheme was not very juftifiable in itself:
there ought at leaft to have been mercy for the daughter of so
many kings.
And talking of ballets: once there was one being danced
at her house, and the Duchesse de Retz begged her to give orders
that only those specially invited should be admitted, so that the
spectacle could be witnessed in comfort. A neighbour of Queen
Marguerite's, MUe Loiseau by name, a pretty woman of very
gallant reputation, was clever enough to find entry. The
moment the Duchesse saw her, she flew in a temper, and went
to beg a favour of the Queen: to wit, that, as punishment of
this woman, she should be allowed to put one single small
queftion to her. The Queen advised her to do nothing of the
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MINIATURE PORTRAITS
kind, and told her that MUe Loiseau s had a beak to peck with
and claws to scratch with. But the Duchesse was obftinate,
and at laft she was given leave. Accordingly MUe Loiseau was
bidden to approach, which she did with a very deliberate air,
and the Duchesse, who was herself of gallant reputation, said
to her: " Mademoiselle, I should like to ask you a queftion —
can you tell me whether birds have horns? " " Yes, madame:
owls 3 have! " The Queen heard this, and burft into laughter,
saying to the Duchesse: "Well! Wouldn't you have done
better to believe me ? "
I have heard one very pleasing tale told of Queen Marguerite.
A Gascon gentleman of the name of Salignac, when she was ftill
young, fell wildly in love with her, but she had no such feeling
for him. One day when he reproached her with her ingratitude,
she said: " Well, as for that, what would you do to show me
your love ? "
" What is there I would not do? " answered he.
" Would you go so far as taking poison? "
" Yes, provided you allowed me to expire at your feet ! "
" Well, you shall," she answered.
A day was fixed, and she caused to be prepared for him a
draught of opening physic. He gulped it down, and she shut
him up in a closet, after vowing to come to him before the poison
took effect. And there she left him for two good hours. . . .
This gentleman, I think, has since been ambassador in Turkey.
1 The name given to a style of euphuistic expression then much in vogue.
* =Bird.
8 Due = horned-owl.

I52

NINON DE L'ENCLOS

HE father of Ninon de l'Enclos
was a follower of M. d'Elbeuf, and
a good player on the lute. She
herself was ftill very small when
her father was obliged to flee
France for having slain Chaban, in
circumstances that might pass for an
assassination, for the other had his
foot ftill in the doorway when
l'Enclos thruft his sword into him.
During his absence the girl
became quite big. She was ftill
only thirteen when, seeing every
one in tears at a sermon on the Passion, she said : " What can
they be thinking of? Qu'importa que muera se ressuscitan ? "
(What matter if I die if one rises again ?) This was a Spanish
song that was current at the time, in praise of the eyes of a fair
lady. Her mother heard of it and saw that she was rewarded
with a sharp reprimand from a Jesuit. She has confessed to me
that since then she saw that religions were nothing but imagina
tion, and nothing was true in all that. As she had lively spirits,
played well upon the lute, and danced admirably, especially the
sarabande, the ladies of the neighbourhood (it was the Marais)
had her often in their company. She never had any great
measure of beauty, but she had always much pleasantness.
Saint-Etienne was the firft who told her fine tales. He had
great liberties in that. The mother thought that he would
marry Ninon, but in the end the matter came to an end, not, it is
said, without her coming into harm's way. Afterwards the
Chevalier de Rare was infatuated with her. It is said that once
when she had been forbidden to speak with him, she saw him
passing along the ftreet, whereupon she ran down to the door
and talked with him. A beggar interrupted them annoyingly,
and she had nothing to give him. But she handed him her
handkerchief, which had lace on it, and said: " Here! Take
this and leave us in peace! "
Nevertheless, Coulon pushed forward his fortune, for he had
^53

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
a mind for her too. I think that he treated with the mother at
Mesnil-Cornuel. Mme Coulon disclosed the whole myftery,
and after this all honest women, or those who so called themselves,
threw Ninon aside and saw her no more. Coulon raised his
mask and openly maintained her, giving her five hundred livres
a month, which, they say, he continued to give her until 1650,
throughout eight or nine years, although there were differences
between them. Aubijoux, some time afterwards, was associated
with Coulon, and also contributed his share.
The first man she fell in love with was the late M. de
Chastillon, who was killed at Charenton. He was then only
d'Andelot. She wrote to him, and gave him an assignation.
He went there. But as he was a faithless fellow, he soon left
her. She deemed this treatment insufferable; although, as you
will see from what follows, she was herself rather of a humour
to leave than to be left; and she made complaint to la Moussaye,
who made peace betwixt them and brought the fugitive back to
her. It has been said that, in order to avenge herself, she had
suffered herself to take a malady wherewith she peppered him
so thoroughly that it was long before he could be reftored:
he had a delicate blood and caught the illness with great ease.
This perhaps saved his life, for if he had not been thus disabled,
he would have been at the battle of Honnecourt and no doubt
would have paid with his life. In succession she had lovers in
plenty, but nevertheless the subsidies of Coulon did not dry up.
Sevigny and Rambouillet have been her lovers, by the quarter.
She had a son by Meret, and one by Miossens.
When Charleval pressed her to accord him the ultimate
favours, she said to him: " Await my caprice, sir! " He was
her first " martyr ": never could he have anything from her, no
more than could Brancas. But what surprised me moft was
the case of the late Moreau, son of the civil lieutenant: he was
most amiable: and she always wanted him for a friend, but he
died without his ever receiving a favour. Her lovers were
distinguished into three classes: the "payers," for whom she
cared scarcely anything, and suffered only until she had gathered
enough to enable her to dispense with them; the " martyrs ";
and the " favourites." She used to say that she liked men of a
fair complexion well, but that they were not such good lovers
as dark men. In 1648 she took a journey to Lyons, some
saying it was juft a whim, others that it was to have herself
secretly treated for some disorder. She said it was her purpose
to retire, and in fact she put herself into a convent. There
*54

NJNONiDE L'ENCLOS
the Cardinal of Lyons fell victim to her pleasing humours, and
committed a number of follies for her sake.
The heart of a certain brother of Perrachon was pierced
through and through by her, and without asking anything of her,
he begged her to permit his visiting her sometimes, and his
giving her a house that could be worth quite eight thousand
crowns. But as he afterwards made claim to things which she
was unwilling to grant him, one fine morning she reftored his
generosities to him, for she was not self-seeking.
On her return she determined that she would yield herself
only to those who gave her pleasure, and told them so, or wrote
it to them. She had Sevigny, though he was married, for three
months or thereabouts, without his spending on her more than a
ring of trifling value. She wrote to him playfully: " I think I
shall love you for three months: for me, that is infinity."
Charleval, having found this youth with her, drew near and
whispered in the fair one's ear: " My dear one, here is somebody
who look like being one of your caprices ! " And after this her
passing lovers were called her caprices, and she would say, for
inftance: " I'm at my twentieth caprice," meaning her twentieth
lover. When she was tired of Sevigny she told him so, and re
placed him with Rambouillet, for another three months. While
her passion lafted no one but he saw her. Other people went to
her house in great numbers, but it was only for conversation
and sometimes for supper, for she had quite a tolerable table
always. Her house was passably furnished, and she had always
a very smart carriage.
Vasse succeeded Rambouillet. She took money from this
one, for he was a very rich man. He did not cease to pay when
his term was over, but like Coulon and Aubijoux he took no
advantages save when the fancy took her.
Fourreau, a ftout fellow, the son of Mme Larcher, acted as
her banker; he had but one talent, and that was an admirable
knowledge of the virtues of meat. She drew notes of credit on
him: M. Fourreau will pay . . . etc. It is believed that he
had hardly anything out of this.
Charleval, a certain M. d'Elbene and Miossens, have mainly
helped to make her an unbeliever. She declares that there is no
harm in what she does, makes profession of having no belief in
anything, boafts that in an illness, when she thought she was
at death's door, she kept her courage conftant, and only received
the sacrament-s out of a sense of propriety. They have made her
assume an air of saying and deciding matters with a philosopher's
*55

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
authority: but her reading is confined to Montaigne, and she
decides everything according to her whim. In her letters there
is a certain fire, but everything in them is very disordered.
She compels the respect of all who frequent her house, and would
not suffer the biggeft wig of all the Court to laugh at anyone,
whoever it might be.
Coulon and she quarrelled, because she left the Marais for
the Saint-Germain quarter, where Aubijoux had his lodging.
The late Moreau, the young son of the civil lieutenant, was then
wildly aflame for her; in her presence he was as if before the
Queen : he paid, but it is not known whether he had her favours
in return. I have heard it said by neighbours that his lackey
always read his master's letter as he went into the lady's house,
and her reply afterwards as he came away. She said one day
to Rambouillet: "Tell me, is so-and-so handsome? For I'm
greatly in need of some relish." She did this quite as an honeft
person, for she was not given to excess and but rarely hazarded
any danger of getting with child.
During the Lent of 1651, some persons of the Court used
to eat meat at her house quite frequently, and by an unlucky
chance a bone was thrown out of the window on to a prieft of
Saint-Sulpice who happened to be passing. This prieft went
and made a great fuss with the cure, and added, as an additional
trifle, that in there two men had been slain, as well as there
being meat consumed quite publicly. The cure laid a complaint
before the bailiff of the abbey of Saint-Germain, who was a rascal.
Ninon, being warned of this, sent M. de Candale and M. de
Mortemar to speak to the bailiff, and he received them with
civility. In the following summer, she found herself during a sermon
beside a certain Mme Paget, wife of a mafter of petitions. This
woman took' great pleasure in chatting with her, and asked M. du
Pin, the treasurer, who was with her, who she might be: " That
is Mme d'Argencour, of Brittany," he told her. " She is bringing
a suit before the courts here." He was making a quip over the
name " Argencour," ' but the lady believed him and said to Ninon :
" You are bringing an action, then, madame? I shall help you
in it. I should be vaftly pleased to help the cause of anyone so
charming as yourself." Ninon bit her lips from fear of laughing.
At this moment Bois-Robert happened to greet her, and Mme
Paget, who was herself a lady of gallantry, said: " How do you
come to know that man? " " Madame," she answered, " I am
a neighbour of his. He lodges in the quarter."
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NJNONiDE L'ENCLOS
Ah! I shall never forgive him for having left our quarter
for someone called Ninon, for a wretch of that sort."
" Ah, madame! " said Ninon, a little confused, " one muft
not believe everything that is said round the town: perhaps she
is an honest girl . Perhaps they could say as much of you and me :
gossip spares nobody."
On the way out, Bois-Robert came up to Mme Paget, and
said: " Well, you have been having a pleasant chat with Ninon."
And so here was the lady in a fury with du Pin, and Ninon as
well. But none the less she had found her so agreeable that du
Pin took the risk of bringing Ninon to the garden of Thevenin,
the oculist, at the Porte de Richelieu, where the persons of the
neighbourhood took their promenade. Mme Paget, who is the
wife of Mme Thevenin's nephew, was there, and she again had
converse with Ninon.
One day when hard words were being said againft Bois-
Robert, in Ninon's presence, over his partiality for handsome
lads: " Indeed," he said, " it is not fitting to talk of these things
in the presence of mademoiselle." " Put that nonsense out of
your head," said she. " I am not such a woman as you may
think." Villarseaux is the laft lover she had. In order to see him
more easily, and to avoid being in Paris (this was in 1652), she
went into the Vexin, to the house ofa gentleman of quality named
Varicarville, who is rich and entertains very well: but he is an
odd character, especially in his foods, for he will eat nothing that
has had life in it, not from physical aversion (like a gentleman of
the Beauce named d'Auteuil, who could never be deceived on
that point, for his ftomach turned at once), but from some turn
of his imagination. He has no great beliefs, any more than she
had. One day they were closeted together for discussion. Thej
were asked what they were doing there. "We are trying," said
she, " to reduce our belief to articles. We have made some
progress, and another time we shall go on with the work in good
earnest." Once during his passion, Villarseaux noticed from his win
dow, for he lodged purposely over againft her, that she had a
candle burning. He sent over to ask whether she was being
bled, but she answered no, and he then concluded that she was
writing to some rival. He was seized with jealousy, and wanted
to go and talk with her. In this wild access, thinking that he
was taking up his hat, he rammed a silver water-jug on to his
head, and with such force that it could only with difficulty be
*57

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
removed from him. She did not give him satisfaction, and he
fell dangerously ill. Whereupon she was so affected that she
cut off all her hair, which was of great beauty, and sent it to
him, to let him see that she would not go out, nor would she even
receive anyone at her house. v This sacrifice cured his sickness.
The fever left him immediately. Learning which, Ninon went
to him, lay down in his bed, and they remained abed together
for eight whole days.
She had two children by Villarseaux. " She is growing old,
and turning conftant," people said. She must have been thirty.
Two years afterwards, a tall and very handsome youth
named Des Mousseaux, hailing from Beauvais, made her
acquaintance at the comedy. He had returned from Sweden,
where the Queen, on account of his handsome appearance, had
made him captain of her guards — later she was obliged to take
the poft from him, on other Frenchmen declaring that he was
not of gentle birth. Before that he had been in Candia, where
he had borne arms for the Venetians. Well, having made her
acquaintance, he went to see her. She was in bed. " Who are
you? " she asked. " You are mighty bold to come to see me
without someone to introduce you."
" I have no name," he said.
" And whence do you come ? "
" I am from Picardy." (She hated Picards.)
" And where were you brought up ? "
" In Candia."
" Lord! what a fellow is here! May you not be a swindler
of some sort ? Pierrot ! Take care I am not robbed. I don't
know who you are. I muft have someone as a reference."
" I can give you Bois-Robert."
" I don't need that, nor do you either."
" Then I can give you Roquelaure," he went on.
" He is too much of a Gascon." (Note that he knew them
only by sight.)
" But when I do have a reference, what would come of it? "
" We should see. You would pass some time here, for I am
fickle-tempered. Pierrot would serve you."
" But I have nothing," he said. " I muft be maintained."
" How much do you want? "
" One piftole a day."
" Come, come," she said, " I'll give you twenty pence."
Then he turned back on what he had said, and gave the name
of Rambouillet, whom he did know. 158

NJNON^DE L'ENCLOS
" Ah, well," said she, " I'll take him as a reference."
Whereupon they separated. Later this youth gave himself to
M. de Noailles.
Villarseaux's intrigue was a source of much chagrin to his
wife. Bois-Robert says that once he went to Villarseaux's, for
he was his hoft in Paris, and there the children's tutor was anxious
to show him how well they were instructed. He asked one of
them: " Quis fuit primus monarcha ? " — " Nembrot." — " Quern
virum habuit Semiramis ? " — " Ninum." Whereupon Mme de
Villarseaux loft her temper against the pedagogue. " Really,"
she said to him, " you might well dispense with teaching them
improprieties like that." And she declared that it was an insult
to her to pronounce that name under her roof!
Villarseaux in 1656 became jealous ofthe Marshal d'Albret,
who, having been unable to effect anything at MUe de Guerchy's,
the famous courtesan, whose house was opposite Ninon's,
crossed the gutter, and made love to Ninon for the second time.
He boafted that he was rid of her for always.
In the Memoirs of the Regency will be told the ftory of the
persecution of poor Ninon by the pietists, and the reft of her
adventures. [Addendum^ It was Mme de Grammont, a mischievous
prude, who was the cause of the Queen-Mother's having her
put into the charge of the Madelonettes. (Her husband the
Marshal used to say of her that she could give a good ftart to
Beelzebub himself.) Mme de Vendome had the execution of
the order. The accusation was that she was fostering impiety
amongft the youth of the Court. Afterwards it was reported
that all the Court gallants wanted to inveft the house of the
Madelonettes, and a guard was sent to patrol it all through
the night. Another time, it was declared that certain noted
cavaliers, from a neighbouring house, had taken the height of the
walls of the convent, etc. So much ftir was caused that she had
to be removed from thence, but only on condition that she passed
a certain time in a convent at Lagny. There so many people
went to see her, that she put a fortune into the pocket of the hoft
at the sign of the " Royal Sword."
In 1 67 1 she took a fancy for a youth of my acquaintance, and
one day when they were in a carriage together, she noticed that
the young man was glancing out at all the women who passed
by. " Ha! " she exclaimed, " you have a mighty roving eye,"
and at the same time she gave him a sound slap. The fact is
r59

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
that she was no longer yoiing, and was grown distrustful of her
own powers.
A certain Abbe who called himself the Abbe" de Pons, a
great hypocrite, who played the man of quality and was nothing
but the son of a provincial hat-maker, served her pretty well. He
was a queer fellow, who from nothing had found for himself a
revenue of six or seven thousand livres. He is the original of
Tartuffe, for one day he declared his passion to her, having
become infatuated with her. In dealing with his plight, he
told her that she muft not be astonished, for even the greatest
saints had not been immune from the troubles of the flesh, that
Saint Paul was a man of affections, and that the Blessed Francis
de Sales had not been able to keep free from them.
And this calls to mind the Comtesse de la Suze, who, in the
laft days of her life, conceived a passion for Jesus. She pictured
Him to herself as a tall youth, dark in complexion and extremely
handsome. Ninon remarked to her that she thought He was
fair. " Not at all, my dear," she answered, " you are wrong
there: I know from my own eyes that He was dark! "
1 Anglice, " Silvercourt."

1 60

BOIS-ROBERT

HE family name of Bois-Robert is
Metel. He is the son of a pro
curator of Rouen (an advocate, he
called his father in one letter).
The father was a Huguenot, and
he himself was one likewise. He
practised at the bar at Rouen.
One day, when he was about to
plead, a procuress of the town
came to warn him that a certain
girl accused him of having two
children by her. He proceeded
with his pleading, and afterwards
went to defend himself, but having had word that the petty
judge, before whom he had been summoned, wanted to have him
arrefted, he made his escape, came to Paris, and attached himself
to Cardinal du Perron, then to Cardinal Richelieu. At firft the
latter had no liking for him, and several times rounded on his
people for not ridding him of this man. " Ah, monsieur," said
Bois-Robert to him, for he was always a cringing fellow, " you
willingly allow the dogs to eat the crumbs that fall from your
table. Am I not worth so much as a dog? "
Bois-Robert, in order to keep himself alive at Court, thought
of an ingenious invention. He asked all the great seigneurs for
their help in forming a library for himself. He took with him a
bookseller, who received what was given, and sold it to him,
averaging a certain sum as his benefice. He confessed later
that he had swindled in this fashion to the extent of five or six
thousand francs. They did not dare to put down the ftory openly
in Francion,1 but it was there set forth as having been a musician
who asked to make a cabinet of all kinds of musical instruments.
He became a canon of Saint Ouen at Rouen, but was im
prudent enough to make mock in some way of the chapter; but
they obliged him to make a kind of formal apology in presence of
all the canons.
Mile de Toucy, now the wife of the Marshal de la Mothe,
fell sick in the abbey of Saint Amand at Rouen, of which her aunt
161 L

MINJ^TURE PORTRAITS
was the abbess. Bois-Robert, as a canon of Notre-Dame,
promised the invalid that the bells of the cathedral church of the
town would not be rung at all on Lady Day. But he could not
have this carried out. So next day he sent some verses on the
subject to MUe de Toucy, wherein he said that MUe de Beuvron
(now Mme d'Arpajon), her rival in beauty, had used her influence
as daughter of the governor of the old palace to prevent the
chapter granting this favour to the lady; she hoped that, this
illness continuing, her charms would diminish. The canons
were foolish enough to lose their tempers againft Bois-Robert:
he was put under interdict; he appealed to the secular court,
and in the end the chapter were told that they were bringing
themselves into ridicule, and the interdict was raised.
He says that about then there was a proposal to play in a
certain quarter of Rouen a tragedy on The Death of Abel. A
woman came to ask that her son should take part, and said that she
would furnish all that was wanted. All the characters were
already caft, but the offer was valuable, and someone had the idea
of giving him the part of Abel's Blood ! He was put into a large
bag of crimson satin, and was rolled from behind the stage, and
he cried: " Vengeance! Vengeance! "
He tells, again, how once he made a journey to Rome, and
having there saluted with a reverence that was almoft proftrate
a certain Cardinal Scaglia, he received no salute in response.
He imagined that the honour of the nation was at ftake, especially
as he had two armed attendants behind him. Accordingly, the
firft time that he met this Cardinal he pulled down his hat
and ftared him ftraight in the face without saluting him. The
Cardinal, in his wrath, sent his men running after him, but he
made his escape into a church. His Eminence excused himself
for the firft occasion on the ground of his poor eyesight, and said,
of the second, quel coglion Thavea vituperato. He had to capitu
late, and he got off with having to salute the Cardinal for the
future very humbly.
At that time there was a certain gentleman of Brittany in
Rome, who was possessed by such a hatred for priests, and
especially for Cardinals, that when he took a coachman it was
always on condition that he would not draw up in front of them.
They all promised this, but they all failed to obey; and he himself
used to relieve himself when the carriage ftopped. The Car
dinals merely laughed, and every one pointed him out. Not
content with this, he sent for the cure of his village, enticing him
with fine promises, and when he had come to Rome, intimidated
162

BOIS-ROBERT
him so much that he forced him into the place of chief of his
armed attendants, with a kind of short cassock that barely reached
his knees. Complaints were made to the ambassador of France,
and he summoned this crazy mafter. " Sir," said he, " the fad
is that I thought I could hardly humiliate the priests more than
by making one of them my armed servant, and since they take
it so, I shall make him the leaft of my men. It has coft me two
hundred crowns to bring him here, and I shall take good care
that the money has not been spent in vain! " In the end they
were forced to get the prieft to make good his escape.
One day when he was ftricken badly with the gout, Boileau
happened to meet his lackey. " How is your mafter ? " he asked
him. " Suffering like one that is damned, sir," he replied.
" Does he swear badly then ? " " Aye, sir," replied the
lackey frankly, " 'tis the only consolation he has in his
pain." Bois-Robert went over to England with M. and Mme de
Chevreuse, on the occasion of the marriage of Madame, the
Princess Henrietta Maria, in order to pick up something. He
fell ill there, and wrote an elegy wherein he spoke of England
as a " barbarous clime." Rashly he showed this to Mme de
Chevreuse, who, as senseless as himself, went and told Lord
Holland and Lord Carlisle that he had composed an elegy, and
then she asked for it to show to them. He answered that he
had not got it, and that when he did have it, she knew quite
well that he ought not to have it. " Ah ! " she said to them, " you
can't guess why it is that he won't give it us. It is because in
it he speaks of England as ' a barbarous clime.' " Lord Carlisle
did not heed this very much, but Lord Holland, who had pre
tensions as a gallant, threw the matter in Bois-Robert's face the
first time he saw him, and even in the presence of Mme de Chev
reuse. Bois-Robert excused himself, saying that any place in
which he had been ill he would call " barbarous," and that in
like circumstances he would have said so ofthe terreftrial paradise.
" But since I have recovered, and your King has been gracious
enough to send me three hundred gold pieces, I find the climate
much more agreeable."
Lord Holland,, hearing these words, exclaimed : "It was well
said! " But the other was infuriated. On the way back, they
accompanied Mme de Chevreuse. A few miles out of London,
as they ascended a hill on the banks of the Thames, every one
had to be on foot on account of the road being very rough.
" Heavens! " cried Bois-Robert, " 'tis a splendid country, my
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MINJATURE PORTRAITS
lady! " " But a ' barbarous clime,' none the less," grumbled
Lord Holland, who had that always gnawing at his heart.
Bois-Robert had purchased four nags for himself. He got
Mme Chevreuse to ask permission of the Duke of Buckingham,
the high admiral, to let them pass into France. Buckingham
could not resift inserting on the passport, after the words " and
four horses," this addition : " to pull him so much the faster out of this
barbarous clime." As Bois-Robert was once reproaching Mme de
Chevreuse for this, she answered him: " But really, it is not the
greateft offence I did you. I once made you mimic Lord Holland
when the King of England and he were concealed behind a
tapeftry." Once Bois-Robert was well installed at Cardinal Richelieu's,
he set himself to serve all whom he could: he is very officious.
He had presented the Cardinal with the Panegyric of Gombauld,
which the Cardinal took, and, having it placed beside his bed,
remarked: " I shall wake up to-night, and shall have it read to
me." It was no purpose of Bois-Robert's, ftill less of Gombauld,
that a certain apothecary lad, who slept in His Eminence's room,
should read this work. So Bois-Robert slipped in quietly, and
took it. When the Cardinal awoke in the night, he could not
find the Panegyric anywhere. He sent to see whether Bois-
Robert was asleep, and was told no. Whereupon Bois-Robert
came down, confessed everything, and added that he had pur
posely not gone to bed. He then read the verses, which delighted
the Cardinal extremely.
When the Academy was founded, Bois-Robert included
therein a good many figure-heads. " Bois-Robert's foundlings "
they were called. By this means he had pensions given them.
He calls himself, in a printed epiftle (I know not which), for his
volume of epiftles is his beft achievement, " the Champion ofthe
Afflicted Muses," and he often sent allowances to these poor
devils of authors, reimbursing himself at leisure.
The Marshal de Vitry, having been put into the Baftille,
sent for Bois-Robert to ask him to dine, provided him with good
cheer, and made him promise to bring certain matters to the
Cardinal's notice. In the evening, Bois-Robert entered His
Eminence's apartment. "Ah, here comes ' le Bois'\ " said the
Cardinal, "here comes ' le Bois'l" (He called him thus on
account of M. de Chateauneuf, who wanted Bois-Robert to
help him with certain ladies of his acquaintance, having granted
him under seal a certain duty on wood coming from Normandy,
although this had been refused a hundred times before.) " Well,
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BOIS-ROBERT
1 le Bois,' what news?" For Bois-Robert used to amuse him
with telling him all the gossip he had heard.
" Monseigneur," said he, " I shall tell you firft that I have
had the beft cheer in the world to-day. You will not guess where.
In the Baftille! In M. de Vitry's room there."
"t Oh, yes! " said the Cardinal.
"And Monseigneur," the other went on, "you could not
believe how learned he has become ! He has proved to me out
of passages from the Fathers, that striking a bishop is not a
crime." " Ah, le Bois ! " pursued the Cardinal. " Are you the King's
censor then ? The King has condemned his action, and desires
him to be punished for it." (Note that M. de Bordeaux was
then on better terms with the Cardinal than ever he was.)
" Come, you are playing at being a minifter. I consider it
insolence." " You are right, Monseigneur. Punish me, ordain what you
will againft me, if ever I speak of matters of ftate again."
And then, to draw him away from this kind of talk, he said :
" But Monseigneur, I have been charged to tell you  "
" But are these ftate affairs ? "
" No, they are not ftate affairs : merely this — that the Marshal
de Vitry will give such-and-such a sum as dowry to his daughter,
and that you should do him the honour of bestowing on her in
marriage whomsoever you may choose."
" Very fine, le Bois ! "
" Monseigneur," said Bois-Robert, so as to turn the con
versation, " you did me the honour of entrufting me with a certain
commission: I have done this, and this." And he told him all
the details of it. " And wait, Monseigneur, I am further
charged to tell you that M. de Vitry has a grown son, well built,
well nourished, whom he offers you to make use of as you please."
" Ah, le Bois ! "
" Monseigneur, my third commission was to  " And he
told him of I know not what order given to him.
" This rogue," said the Cardinal, " will tell me everything
without my managing to be angry with him! "
Citois, the physician to the Cardinal, and Bois-Robert used
to play into each other's hands. Once at Ruel, Bois-Robert
fell into the Cardinal's ill-favour for something about which he
had shown overmuch zeal. His Eminence, tired of the con
versation of someone who had wearied him very much, asked
Citois: "Who is in there?" "There is only poor Bois-
i6S

MINJ^TURE PORTRAITS
Robert," said Citois. " I came upon him in the park. He
was going to throw himself into the lake, and would have, if
I had not prevented him." " Fetch him here," said the Cardinal.
Bois-Robert came, and told him several ftories. They were
better friends than ever. Also, as the History of the Academy
tells, Citois used always to say to the Cardinal: " All my physic
will be of no avail, unless a little of Bois-Robert is included
in it." On one occasion he made the Cardinal take a certain page in
spite of himself. The Cardinal was more fastidious in these
appointments than the King himself, and would only have the
sons of a count or a marquis. A president of the parliament of
Dijon wanted to place his son thus, and had the matter mentioned
by Bois-Robert, but the Cardinal rejected the offer. Bois-Robert,
however, did not cease to write that the lad, as worthy a boy as
could be found, should be sent. He came. Bois-Robert said
to the Cardinal: " Monseigneur, the page you promised me to
take has arrived."
"I? Promised?"
" Yes, Monseigneur."
" I never had a thought of it at all ! "
" Oh, Monseigneur, speak softly. He is there. If he
heard you he would be in despair."
"I? Did I promise you? "
" Yes, Monseigneur. Do you not remember how on such-
and-such a day so-and-so came to pay his respects to you ? "
And in the end he was conftrained, by Bois-Robert's effrontery, to
take the boy.
On the other hand, if he served some handsomely, he did
bad turns to others. Desmareft complains bitterly of his ways.
He declares that when reading to the Cardinal Coftar's Remarks
on the Odes of Godeau and Chapelain, at a passage where the author
compares with the stanzas of these gentlemen ten or twelve lines
from a piece where the Cardinal is praised highly, His Eminence
asked whose these were. Bois-Robert answered that they were
by Marbeuf, whereas they were Desmareft's. He was afraid of
Desmareft, whom Bautru had introduced to the Cardinal's
household, and who, being a man of wide comprehension and
well-ftored mind, was very much what the Cardinal required.
But he was not the sort of man to raise a laugh, and Bois-Robert
always had his proper function left intact. But another time he
did much worse, for, with the malice of a seasoned courtier, he
took it into his head to tell the Cardinal that his guards were
1 66

BOIS-ROBERT
not content with having free admission for themselves to the
comedy, but that they took people there as well. " Aye," said
the Cardinal, who wanted to have the affection of his guards,
"are there complaints of my guards then ? " Bois-Robert retired,
and, passing through the guard-room, he told them that Des
mareft had said this and that againft them. After which the
guards used to joftle Desmareft's valet at the ballets and comedies
of his own mafter, and told him that it was because he belonged
to M. Desmareft. The latter complained to Manse, the
lieutenant of the guards, who asked the men the reason of this.
It was then known that it was all a calumny of Bois-Robert's.
For the Cardinal's diversion, and at the same time to placate
his jealousy againft The Cid, Bois-Robert had a burlesque per
formance of this piece given before him by the lackeys and
scullions. Among other things, at the place where Don Diego
says to his son: Hast thou no heart, Rodrigo ?
Rodrigo had to reply: / have but diamonds !
No one could tell a ftory more amusingly than he, there is no
better comedian in the world. In person, he is handsome. He
says that once, juft as a trial, the Cardinal ordered the actor
Mondory and him to hold forth together on a passionate theme,
and that the Cardinal held that he had excelled the most famous
comedian, perhaps, who ever exifted since Roscius.
None the less he was once disgraced for a long time, and
profited little from his reftoration to favour. This is how I
have heard the ftory told.
A rehearsal was being held, in the small hall, of the great
comedy which the Cardinal was having performed, and Bois-
Robert, who had orders to invite, for its judging, only actors,
actresses and authors, gave admission to the little Saint-Amour
Frerelot, a pretty wench who had once been for a time a member
of Mondory's troupe. Juft as a ftart was being made, M.
d'Orleans entered. They had not dared to refuse him admit
tance, and the Cardinal was furious. This little flibbertigibbet
could not sit still. She pushed up her head-dress, and did every
thing she could to catch the attention of M. d'Orleans. A few
days later the comedy was performed. Bois-Robert and the
Chevalier Desroches had orders for the inviting of the ladies;
167

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
several ladies who were uninvited, and among them some rather
doubtful ones, entered under the titles of the Marquise of
So-and-so, or the Comtesse of Such-and-such. Two gentlemen
who were receiving them at the door, seeing that their names
were on the lift, and that they were properly escorted, passed
them on to two others, who led them to the President Vignier
and M. de Chartres- Valencay, later the Archbishop of Rheims,
who were charged with giving them their places. (The Cardinal
employed priests and bishops for inviting and placing at the
comedy. Later, he gave tickets.)
Well, the King had wind of this, and, being always delighted
to adminifter a pin-prick to His Eminence, said to him, in the
presence of M. d'Orleans: "Well, there were plenty of fine
feathers at your comedy the other day."
" Indeed there were! " exclaimed M. d'Orleans, " for in the
small hall, where I had precious great difficulty in getting in
myself, there was the little Saint-Amour, one of the greateft
strumpets of all Paris! "
The Cardinal was ftupefied. He was furious. He said
nothing, except: "And this is how I am served! " Coming
away, he told his captain of the guards: " Cavoie, the Saint-
Amour girl was at the rehearsal the other day."
" She did not enter by the door I had to keep," he answered.
But inftantly, Palevoisin, a gentleman of Touraine, kinsman of
the Bishop of Nantes, Beauveu, an enemy of Bois-Robert, told
the Cardinal: " Monseigneur, she came in by the door where
I was. But it was M. de Bois-Robert who had her
admitted." Bois-Robert, knowing nothing of all this, was met by the
chancellor, who told him: " His Eminence is in high dudgeon
with you. Keep out of his way." But at the same moment the
Cardinal sent for him. There was no one there but Mme
d'Aiguillon, who had no love for him, and M. de Chavigny,
who liked him well enough. With a frown, the Cardinal
addressed him: " Bois-Robert " (not ' le Bois ' this time!), " on
what grounds did you have a ftrumpet given admittance to the
rehearsal the other day? "
" Monseigneur," he answered, " I know her only as an
actress. I have never set eyes on her except on the ftage,
where Your Eminence pointed her out to me." (Yet he admits
that on that morning she had been to see him to secure an
admission.) " Besides, I know nothing about her: has informa
tion about one's life and morals to be given to be an actress?
168

BOIS-ROBERT
For myself, I think they're all pretty bad, and I don't think
there ever were any otherwise."
" If that is all," said the Cardinal to his niece, " I do not see
that there is any crime."
Bois-Robert wept, and made all the protestations you can
imagine. But the Cardinal, ftill hot with the thought of what
the King had said, said to him: " You have scandalised His
Majefty. Withdraw."
Bois-Robert took to his bed. All the Court and all the kins
men of the Cardinal visited him. The Marshal de Gramont
went to see him several times, and on the laft visit said to him :
" If you could keep silence, I could tell you a secret. But
not a word of it. On Sunday you'll be back in favour. The
Cardinal is to see the King on Saturday, and he will take up your
case with him." Sunday came, and the Abbe" de Beaumont
came to see him. As soon as he saw him, Bois-Robert said:
"Here I am, in favour again! " But the Abbe came up to
him with sighs, and pulling a very long face, for he did not like
him. (He, Grave and Palevoisin were all jealous of Bois-Robert ;
perhaps he had also played tricks on them.) And at laft the
Abbe told him that the King had refused to liften to His
Eminence, and had said to him: " Bois-Robert is a disgrace to
your household." Bois-Robert then had orders to retire,
either to his abbey (it is called Chatillon), or to Rouen, where
he held a canonry. He chose Rouen.
All this trouble, however, came from deeper causes. Cinq-
Mars was desirous of ruining La Chesnaye, who was, as I have
said elsewhere, the Cardinal's spy, and turned for this end to
Bois-Robert. In a private conversation at Saint-Germain he
told Bois-Robert that he had always thought highly of him,
and that his father, Marshal d'Effiat, had always had a liking for
him. But up to the present, said Cinq-Mars, Bois-Robert had
only been feathering nefts for sparrows and swallows, but now
he muft work for some bigger game ; he ought to catch hold of a
big prize ; it was time to be thinking of his fortune, and he begged
him to aid him. " La Chesnaye," he added, " is playing me
false. He has had a long conversation with the Cardinal in
the garden ; and on coming away from that the Cardinal treated
me like a schoolboy. You can easily tell me who has introduced
La Chesnaye to the Cardinal's circle, and who are his friends
in the house: I want to ruin them." And then he was carried
away somewhat, and said that the Cardinal was treating him ill,
and that, by God. . . . And he stopped without saying any
169

MINJ^TURE PORTRAITS
more. Observing this, Bois-Robert could well have wished that
he had had no converse with Cinq-Mars, and after promising
him to find out who were the friends of La Chesnaye, went off to
Mme Lansac, the governess of the Dauphin, and asked her
counsel. She was of opinion that he ought to say a word to
the Cardinal, but he had no mind to do so, saying that it was
only a young man's freak and that he would never have the
determination to injure the Cardinal. Later, Cinq-Mars sought
everywhere for Bois-Robert, but the latter kept out of his way.
He took it into his head that Bois-Robert had played him false, so
he spoke ill of him to the King, and made use of everything that
had ever been said againft Bois-Robert. Whence it came that the
King declared Bois-Robert to be a dishonour to his master's house.
Here is the principal reason on which the King took his
ftand. Bois-Robert once disclosed to the Cardinal that Saint-
Georges, the governor of the Pont-de-l'Arche, was in the habit of
taking a certain toll on each vessel that came up, and that these
vessels were dubbed cardinals. Whereupon Saint-Georges was
dismissed, and, out of revenge, declared that Bois-Robert had
dishonoured his son, who was one of the Cardinal's pages.
Palevoisin had done worse, for he had said the same thing before
fourteen persons in the antechamber. Bois-Robert heard of this,
and told the Marshal de Gramont. " Sir," he said, " let us
have the page here." " He is in bed," they were told. " Make
him get up." And the page, who knew nothing of the calumny
spread by his father, declared that he would give the lie, and
death as well, to anyone who had said such a thing. The Marshal
de Gramont exerted himself so that Bois-Robert contented himself
with Palevoisin saying, in the full wardrobe chamber, that all
who had made such accusations againft Bois-Robert had lied.
Whence came Palevoisin's deteftation of him.
When Bois-Robert was at Rouen, the Marshal de Guiche, on
going thither as lieutenant of the King for Normandy, asked the
Cardinal whether he would object to his seeing Bois-Robert.
" You will give me pleasure," said the Cardinal. Bois-Robert
entertained the Marshal magnificently, and after dinner loft
six-score piftoles to him, for he cannot keep himself from play
and plays like a child.
Afterwards the Cardinal made his journey to Perpignan, and
when he was sick at Narbonne, Citois said to him: " I do not
know what more I can give you, unless it be three drachms of
Bois-Robert after meals." " It is not yet time for that, M.
Citois," answered the Cardinal. 170

BOIS-ROBERT
After the death of Cinq-Mars, every one spoke on Bois-
Robert's behalf. Cardinal Mazarin wrote to him: "You can
go to Paris, if you have business there." Bois-Robert went
thither, and while waiting for His Eminence loft twenty-two
thousand crowns which he had in ready money. When the
Cardinal had arrived, Mazarin wrote to Bois-Robert again:
" Come and ask for me on a certain day, and if I turn out to be
in the Cardinal's room, come and find me." Bois-Robert went.
The Cardinal embraced him, with sobs, for he loved those whom
he believed to be fond of him. Bois-Robert, who saw his mafter
weeping, could not on this occasion, contrary to his wont, mufter
up a single tear. He had the idea of feigning a seizure, and
Cardinal Mazarin, who was anxious to help him, exclaimed:
" Look at the poor man! He's choking. He is so overcome
that he cannot even weep. Sometimes one is suffocated by less
than that. Quick, a surgeon! " And Bois-Robert was bled,
although he was as well as anyone. Three big basins of blood
were drawn. All the people who were envious of him haftened
to embrace him, but the Cardinal died only nineteen days
later. Bois-Robert says that the only good thing that Mazarin
ever did for him was to get three basins of blood out of
him. A few years afterwards, Bois-Robert had a great dispute
with M. de La Vrilliere, the secretary of ftate, who had removed
from the lift of pensions a brother of Bois-Robert's named
d'Ouville, a kind of engineer. Bois-Robert had him beseeched
by every one to reftore his name, and his friends told him: " We
have shaken him a little. Go and see him." Bois-Robert went,
and was received by La Vrilliere, who was rather a churl, with
an oath: " Good God, sir! You will oblige me by ftopping
people from peftering me everywhere about your brother, a
quite undeserving fellow." In telling this ftory Bois-Robert
used to say: " I knew that quite well, he had no need to tell
me, I did not go there to learn that." But what annoyed Bois-
Robert chiefly was that this man had formerly paid court to him :
" Ah, sir," he said to him, " I never thought that ministers
of ftate swore as you do. In very truth, such language would
suit a carter much better than it does you. Come, sir, my
brother will be reftored to the lift despite you and your snarl-
ings! " And forthwith he went to see Cardinal Mazarin, to
whom he declared that he had no claim to make of him save this
one, but that this was a matter of honour. The Cardinal
granted his promise. None the less, in his resentment, Bois-
171

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
Robert composed an amusing satire againft La Vrilliere, whom
he calls Tirsis.
He repeated it to every one. Some remembered one part,
others another. M. de La Vrilliere had word of it, and M. de
Chavigny warned the Abbe" that La Vrilliere was going to go
to the Palais Royal to lay a complaint. Bois-Robert took a ftep
in advance of him with the Marshal de Gramont. They went
together to the Cardinal, who could hardly contain his laughter:
" Monseigneur," said Bois-Robert, " they are not directed againft
M. de La Vrilliere, these verses of mine. I have been reading
the Characters of Theophrastus, and I wished, in pure imitation,
to write the character of a bad minifter." " You see the in-
juftice," said the Marshal. " Fancy accusing poor Bois-Robert
of that! " He was made to repeat the verses in their entirety,
and La Vrilliere came. " Monseigneur," he cried. " He has
besmirched me, he has flung a bottle of ink in my face! "
" Monsieur de La Vrilliere," said the Cardinal, " it is not you at
all: it is the Characters of Theophrastus."
Nevertheless, he did not reftore d'Ouville to the lift. The
Cardinal in the end had him reftored, for Bois-Robert waited
for him every day in his wardrobe room. " Monseigneur," he
said to him, " M. de La Vrilliere says that he will not do it, even
if the Queen commanded him to. After that he muft be ascend
ing the throne."
During this turmoil, the late M. d'Emery maliciously invited
Bois-Robert to dine with him, and put him opposite La Vrilliere,
quizzing the grimaces of his son-in-law the while. Penon, La
Vrilliere's clerk, was slow to deliver the warrant, but Bois-
Robert let him catch sight of four piftoles in his hand. Imme
diately the warrant appeared. Bois-Robert, as soon as he had
it, put back the piftoles in his own pocket. " Ah, my good sir,"
he said, " I think I can't be sober! Money for you! What an
idea! I beg your pardon, I wasn't thinking what I was doing."
" In the end," said Bois-Robert to the Cardinal, to whom
he told the ftory, "my impudence proved to be greater than his."
For three years d'Ouville received his payments, after which La
Vrilliere was again minded to remove him from the lift. But
Bois-Robert had the insolence to inform him that he would print
the satire. And the other dared not do it. " He's only a
rascal," said Bois-Robert, " he ought to have had me thrashed."
And indeed it is always a matter of aftonishment to me that the
Archbishop of Bordeaux should have been beaten on two
but Bois-Robert never once. (After the death of
172

BOIS-ROBERT
Cardinal Richelieu, Bois-Robert was twice set upon with fifts
at Rouen: the firft time by the Abbe" de Turseville, who, like
himself, was a canon of Saint Ouen, and the other time at the
comedy — I know not by whom.)
Once when Bois-Robert went to the Petit-Luxembourg, Mme
Sauvoy, wife of the fteward of Mme d'Aiguillon, said to him
when she saw him: "Ah, M. de Bois-Robert, I have certain
bones to pick with you." (Bois-Robert, to make mock of her,
flung himself forthwith at her feet.) " You are reputed every
where to be impious — an atheift in fact! "
" Ah, madame," he replied, " one muft not believe all that
one hears. Now, I have often been told, I have, that you were
the most brazen of ftrumpets! "
" Come, sir! " she interrupted him. " Come, what are you
saying? "
" Madame," he went on, " I proteft to you that I never be
lieved a word of it." The whole household was delighted to see
the mortification of this insolent woman.
At a performance of one of his pieces, the actors used a
bad word which was not in the text. " Ah! " he cried from the
box where he was seated, " these scoundrels will have me turned
out of the Academy! "
Bois-Robert, always the good courtier, was inspired to com
pose some verses againft the Frondeurs. Never was there any
one so cringing. The coadjutor knew of this, and the firft time
he came to dine with him, said: " M. de Bois-Robert, will you
repeat them to me?" "Very well, sir," said Bois-Robert.
He spat, he blew his nose, and, with an air of absent-mindedness,
he went over to the window. He looked out. Then he turned
to the coadjutor. " Upon my word, sir," said he, "I shall do
nothing of the kind. Your window is far too high up! "
He wanted to write a comedy which he called The Miserly
Father. In certain passages, it was the ftory of the late President
de Bercy and his son, who was formerly a spendthrift, but is now
more avaricious than his father. He pretended that a woman,
who had a beautiful daughter, used to ensnare the youth, on
pretext of bringing suits. There was inserted the meeting of the
president, in a notary's room, with his son, who was seeking
money at high interest. " Ah, spendthrift! it is you ! " cries
the father. "Ah, 'tis you, old usurer!" cries the son. (A
certain Du Boulay once found himself in this predicament at a
notary's with his wife, who was lending out money at high intereft
on securities.) 173

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
He had also incorporated the conversation of Ninon and Mme
de Paget at a sermon, when this lady, who did not know Ninon,
complained to her that Bois-Robert was anxious to leave her
quarter to go to the Saint-Germain quarter, for the sake of some
body or other called Ninon. Ninon answered her: " One
must not believe all that is said, madame. They might be saying
the same sort of thing about you and me."
Bois-Robert, with his usual rashness, went and said here
and there that it was Bercy whom he meant in the play. Bercy,
who is a churlish fellow, was minded to take offence, and made
an outcry inftead of juft laughing at it. Mme Paget likewise
behaved foolishly, following this example. The King wanted
the piece to be performed, and Bois-Robert wished him to ask
for its production in the presence of the president. But he
did not dare have it played. I think that M. de Matignon,
Bercy's brother-in-law, asked this of him, or at leaft gave him to
underftand that he would not find it at all agreeable. The King
wished to know why the play was never given; he said that the
President de Bercy, who had launched so many onslaughts
againft the Fronde, would be offended (this was cajolery), and
in this way had his court paid in his absence. Bercy thanked
Bois-Robert for this.
He was always meeting with adventures on account of his
comedies. In one of them he had put a countess named
" d'Ortie " (nettle), not thinking that there was anyone of that
name. Nevertheless, one fine day he saw a worthy man come
in, who addressed him in a Gascon accent. " Sir," said he,
" my name is d'Ortie." This astonished Bois-Robert. " You
have put a countess of that name into your play." " Sir," said
the Abb£, " I did not do it with any thought of offending you."
" Far from my bearing you any grudge, sir, I am, on the contrary,
obliged to you for having done me a service every time your
piece has been performed. The King has had me summoned,
and he knows my face far better than ever he did before." He
was a lieutenant of the guard, and is now a captain. Bois-Robert
has said since: " If I had thought that, I would have called her
Marquise de la Ronce " (bramble). He was told: " But there is
a Marquise de la Ronce, it would have been worse." His
Cassandra is the beft of his plays.
Bois-Robert, sick of an ancient malady of which he will never
be cured, I mean the courtier's meanness, has demeaned himself
a hundred times to the Cardinal, and then spoken ill of him. He
always goes to visit the Queen. She has a steward named La
174

BOIS-ROBERT
Voliere, who is the moft capricious animal in the wide world,
and took a dislike to the poor Abbe. One day he refused him
admittance. " I shall enter in spite of you," said Bois-Robert,
and, addressing some powerful noblemen who were coming along,
said to them: " Take me in along with you, gentlemen." He
entered, and on the way out, he sneered: " One for you, M. de
la Voliere!" We muft ever be returning to his theatrical pieces, since he
wrote so many of them. He and Scarron and the brother of Cor
neille had all three imitated from the Spanish a play which is
called The Scholar of Salamanca. The version of Corneille was
rather behindhand, but the two others were completed. Mme
de Brancas, whom Bois-Robert told of it, begged the Prince
d'Harcourt to speak to the troupe of actors about it: they are
deeply obliged to him, for he often has them to perform in the
town. They wanted to play Scarron's version the firft. The
Prince threatened them with a thrashing if they affronted Bois-
Robert in this fashion, and he, relating the adventure, said:
" Upon my word, the Prince d'Harcourt took it all very heroi-
comi cally indeed! "
Once the Prince de Conti, during a performance of one of
Bois-Robert's comedies, called out to him from the box where he
was: " Monsieur de Bois-Robert, a mischievous piece! " Bois-
Robert, who was on the ftage, began calling out in a much louder
voice: " Monseigneur, you are embarrassing me with these
praises to my face! "
About that time the religious-minded at Court turned againft
Bois-Robert, and had him exiled as a man who ate meat in Lent,
had no religion, and swore horribly when he gambled, which
was true. But on his return, he could not resift saying that Mme
de Mancini, who had made his peace for him, had only brought
him back so that she could be paid forty piftoles which she had
won off him.
Afterwards he was obliged to say Mass occasionally. Once
at a midnight Mass Mme de Cornuel saw, when it came to the
Dominus vobiscum, that it was Bois-Robert, and remarked to
someone: "There! All my devotion's vanished ! " Next day,
when someone proposed taking her to hear a sermon, she re
plied: " I don't want to go. After finding Bois-Robert saying
the Mass, I dare say I shall find Harlequin in the pulpit. I verily
believe that his chasuble was made from a skirt of Ninon's."
She repented her words, and they made it up between them. In
the course of one year he had eight quarrels, and made eight
175

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
reconciliations: he has no bitterness in him. M. Chapelin said:
" Formerly I used to tremble for him, but nowadays, having
seen him clamber out of so many holes, I fear nothing for him."
When someone was talking to him once about fabulous
genealogies, he said: " For myself, I should like to have a descent
for myself traced back to Metellus, for my name is Metel."
" But," he was asked, " you cannot mean that your ancestor
was Metellus Pius? "
He directed a satire againft d'Olonne, SableVBois-Dauphin,
and Saint-Evremont, who were known as the Coteaux (hill
sides). This name came from that fact that M. du Mans
(Lavardin), who keeps a good table, used to complain bitterly
of the fastidious taftes of these three gentlemen, and declared
that in the whole of France there were only three hillsides whose
wines they approved. This name of CSteaux ftuck to them,
and even spread as a term for those who are too delicate in their
taftes and make a point of drawing over-nice shades in good
cheer. In this satire there were some pleasing things: such
as their remarks that for beauties it was well they should be things
of one day to the next, but not so for cooks. Two of them he
ftung pretty sharply, namely, Sable and Saint-Evremont, as men
who found nothing good, and who never in their lives had given
anyone so much as a glass of water. In time, they won him
round, and made him throw his piece in the fire. I was forgetting
the principal maxim of the CSteaux : it was, never to eat sucking-pig.
To show how little pains he took to hide his uncommon
taftes, he used to say that Ninon wrote to him, speaking of
the kindness shown her by the Madelonettes, where her pious
friends had her put: " I think I shall follow your example, and
begin to harbour some affection for my own sex." Bautru's
porter once adminiftered a sound kick to Bois-Robert's lackey.
The Abbe" was in a transport of rage over this. And people
commented: " Yes, that's much more of an offence to him than
to another. 'Tis not their faces that make these gentry's
fortune." With his wealth — for he has enough to allow him to travel
always in his coach, although he has loft a great deal of it — he
amuses himself with the composing of ftill more comedies, and,
provided these are pleasing to the actors and the booksellers, he
has no cares for aught else. He once cajoled a bookseller's wife
into printing a hundred copies of four Spanish Novelas which he
had turned into bad French. The Comte d'Estrees, second son
of the Marshal, noticed that Bois-Robert used to talk of these
176

BOIS-ROBERT
Novelas as of something of extreme beauty, and took it into his
head to write him a long letter, in which, without giving his own
name, he advised him of all the faults of language in the book.
Bois-Robert imagined that this came from Saint-Evremont,
author of the comedy of The Academy, and answered in a very
sharp tone. Saint-Evremont replied that he desired no con
troversy with him: " not on account of your writing rather bad
plays," he said, " and rather bad -Novelas, but on account of the
perpetual thoughtlessness wherewith God has endowed you, and
which makes the Abbe" de La Victoire say that you muft be judged
as if you were eight." Later Bois-Robert discovered the truth of
the letter's source, and they were reconciled, the Comte and he.
" He has done well," said Bois-Robert; " without that I would
have reviled him."
Lately, at the Palace, he remarked with a laugh to a young
councillor: " I am enchanted when I see France so well coun
selled." The young man was not confused, and said in the same
tone: " And / am enchanted when I see the Church so well
served." In 1659, when the King went to Lyons, Bois-Robert
generously lent three hundred piftoles to the Marquis de Riche
lieu, who had not a pennypiece to make this journey with. Con
trary to his expectation, he was later repaid. The grand-mafter,
knowing of his giving this money, laughed at him. " I am only
doing," answered Bois-Robert, " what you ought to do. For
my own part I shall always remember that he is the nephew of
Cardinal Richelieu."
In 1 66 1, at the time of the death of Cardinal Mazarin, a
man from Nancy made inquiries, at the Palace, of the news
mongers, saying: " I beg you, gentlemen, to tell me whether it
be true, what they tell us at Nancy: that Bois-Robert has turned
Turk, and that the Grand Vizier has given him great revenues,
with beautiful little boys for his pleasure, and that from there he
has written to the atheists at Court, saying: ' As for you, gentle
men, you take pleasure in denying God a hundred times a day.
But I have only denied him once, and find I am getting on very
well.' "
Bois-Robert purchased a house in the country. And
Providence directed that it should be a house of the name of
Villeloison ! 2 He said himself that it was to entail on his
nephews, who are real goslings, but, upon my word, it does not
suit their uncle so ill ! He died a year or two after this charming
acquisition. 177 M

MINJATURE PORTRAITS
He had sold his abbey of Chatillon to Lenet, M. le Prince's
friend. He had frittered away nearly everything, except the
acquisition I have juft mentioned, and a bill for twelve thousand
livres drawn on a man of affairs. He was playing once at the
house of Paget, the mafter of the petitions, and was losing. In
his excitement to have himself as the ftake-holder, he said:
" Don't be afraid of my going bankrupt: here's a note for four
thousand crowns that owes nothing to anyone." Paget took it,
and in its place gave him a written petition, which the other
grasped. When going to bed, Bois-Robert recognised his
blunder, and sent to the man of affairs to give him such informa
tion as was expedient, and, in a pair of ratteen trousers, went
and made the devil of a noise at Paget's, who reftored his note
but refused ever to see him again.
Mme de Chatillon, his neighbour, was the chief cause of his
being brought to make a truly Chriftian end. He said to those
who surrounded him: " Forget the living Bois-Robert, and
think only of Bois-Robert a-dying." When his confessor told
him that God had pardoned greater sinners than he had been,
Bois-Robert said: " Yes, father, there are greater. My Jioft
the Abbe" de Villarceaux " (he had a grudge againft him, because
he had loft money to him) " is no doubt a greater sinner than I.
Yet I do not despair of God's showing mercy towards him."
Mme de Thore" said to him: " Contrition is a grace . . ."
etc., etc. "Ah, madame, I wish you it, with all my heart! "
He was close-fifted to the very end, and desired that his nephew
should wear a coat which he left, inftead of giving it to a needy
valet of his.
He remarked : " I should reft content were I on as good terms
with Our Lord as I was with Cardinal Richelieu."
When he was holding the crucifix, and asking pardon of God,
he exclaimed: " Ah! The devil take that villainous soup I
ate at d'Olonne's. There were onions in it, and that's what
has made me ill." And then he went on: " It was Cardinal
Richelieu who spoiled me. He was of no worth; 'twas he who
turned me aftray." 1 The romance by Charles Sorel, 1622.
2 Which one might Anglicise as Goslington. '

I78

NOTES
Page i. Henry the Fourth. Henry of Navarre, founder of the royal house of
Bourbon, was born at Pau in 1553. As the Prince de Beam, he fought
with the Huguenots under his uncle, the Prince de Conde, and made a
marriage, political rather than heartfelt, with Marguerite de Valois in
1572. _ He was named successor to the throne of France by Henry III,
who died in 1589, but it was not until 1598, after much fighting and a
profession of the Catholic faith (and a famous tag) that he was acknow
ledged King. Divorced from Marguerite, he married Marie de' Medici
in 1600. He was murdered by the fanatical Ravaillac in May, 1610.
Page 10. The Due de Sully. Maximilian de Bdthune, Due de Sully and Baron
de Rosny, was born at Rosny, near Mantes, in 1 559. He attached him
self to Henry of Navarre in 1 575, becoming one of his councillors in 1 580.
It was on his advice that Henry abjured Protestantism, although he
himself remained faithful to the Huguenot doctrines. He became
superintendent of finances in 1599, and was made Due de Sully in 1606.
No one had greater weight with Henry IV than Sully, but his influence
ended with the King's reign. His later years were spent in virtual
retirement and in writing his Memoirs, which appeared between 1634
and 1642. He died in 1641.
Page 16. Louis the Thirteenth. Louis XIII was the son of Henry IV and
Marie de' Medici. He came to his father's throne under his mother's
regency at the age of nine (1610), and married Anne of Austria in 161 5.
Before long his mother was exiled from Court, and for a time the Due de
Luynes was its dominant figure. But during the wars waged against
the Huguenots in 1620, Richelieu won his earliest sovereignty over
Louis, and his is the name which dominates the reign. Louis died in
1643, when his crown passed to his son, Louis XIV.
Page 28. Monsieur d'Orleans. Gaston Jean Baptiste de France, the Due
d'Orleans, was born in 1608, the younger son of Henry IV and Marie
de' Medici. He was lieutenant-governor in 1630, but quarrelled with
Richelieu, and in 1632 made open war on the King, Louis XIII.
Pardoned after his defeat, he was none the less a conspirator once more in
1642, this time in the affair of Cinq-Mars and others, against the great
Cardinal. But he recovered his old position after Louis's death, 1643,
and moved along a path of ingenious inconstancy until his death in 1660.
Page 34. Father Joseph. Francois Leclerc du Tremblay, the Capuchin Father
Joseph, was born in Paris in 1577. He became the special confidant
of Richelieu, and played a very intricate part in the great Cardinal's
manoeuvres and intrigues. " The Gray Eminence " died in 1638.
The affair at Loudun attracted much attention at the time. It was
a case of alleged diabolic possession among the nuns of an Ursuline con-
179

MINIATURE PORTRAITS
vent there during 1632. An examination of the whole story seems to
indicate an outbreak of some form of infectious hysteria — and possibly
it was exploited. But it ended in the burning alive (1634) ofa priest
named Urbain Grandier, who was implicated.
Poge 37- Sauvage. Sauvage's Gazettes survive in isolated specimens, e.g., for
1632. Scarron makes mention of him in some verses of 1642. The
Grenoble imposture took place in February, 1637.
Page 38. Madame de Rambouillet. Catherine de Vivonne, Marquise de Ram
bouillet, was born in 1588, and married in January 1600. She died
in December 1665. Her literary name, " Artbinice," is an anagram of
Catherine. Monsieur de Rambouillet. Charles d'Angennes, Marquis de Ram
bouillet and de Pisani, was born about 1 577, and died, after some years
of blindness, in Paris in February 1652.
Page 50. Madame de Montausier. Julie Lucine d'Angennes, the daughter of
M. and Mme de Rambouillet, was born in 1605, and married the Due
de Montausier (1610-1690) in 1645. She died in 1671.
Their daughter, in whom Tallemant takes such pleasure, was born
in 1646, married the Due d'Uzes in 1664, and died in 1695.
M. de Montausier was supposed to be the original of Alceste in
Moli-re's Le Misanthrope. The compilation of the Garland, Jarry's
masterpiece of calligraphy, was begun about 1632. The original passed,
through the hands of the daughter just mentioned, into the possession
of the Uzes family.
Page 54. Madame de Montbazon. Marie de Bretagne, daughter of Claude de
Bretagne, Comte de Vertus, was born about 1610, and married Hercule
de Rohan, Due de Montbazon, in 1628. She was one ofthe most famous
beauties of her day, and died in April 1657.
Page 58. Monsieur de Montbazon. Hercule de Rohan, Due de Montbazon,
was born in 1567. He served Henry III and then Henry IV, and was
governor of Paris and the He de France under the latter. He died in
Touraine in October 1654.
Page 60. Cardinal Richelieu. Armand Jean du Plessis, Bishop of Lucon, and
Cardinal-Duke de Richelieu, was born at Paris on September 5th, 1585,
and died there on December 4th, 1642.
Page 101. Mademoiselle de Gournay. Marie de Jars, demoiselle de Gournay,
was born in Paris in 1565. The family retired after the death of her
father to a somewhat cramped life at Gournay, in Picardy. She taught
herself Latin and engaged in various and unexpected studies, even, it
was said, in the search for the philosopher's stone. She made Montaigne's
acquaintance in Paris in 1588, after a passionate admiration ofthe Essays.
After his death she spent over a year at the Chateau de Montaigne,
working on a folio edition of the Essays. Thereafter she lived in Paris,
180

NOTES
enjoying the friendship of many distinguished persons. The early days
of the French Academy often saw its members assembled at her house,
and her works had a high reputation in their day. She died in 1645.
Page 106. Bassompierre. Francois de Bassompierre, Marquis d'Harouel, was
born in 1679. He was early favoured by King Henry IV, and, after
serving against the Turks in 1603, became commander of the Swiss
Guards. Louis XIII continued the favour of his father, and made
Bassompierre a marshal of France in 1622. He married Louise, Princess
de Conti. Richelieu imprisoned him in 163 1, and he remained in
captivity until the Cardinal's death, more than eleven years later. He
died in October, 1646, leaving some interesting Memoirs, pubhshed
in 1665.
Page 115. Cardinal de Retz. Jean Francois Paul de Gondi was born at Mont-
mirail in 1614. He became a leader of the Frondeurs in the civil war
of 1649, and was nominated cardinal through the queen-regent. Im
prisoned by Mazarin in 1652, he escaped in 1654 and was for several
years an exile in Italy and the Low Countries. He died in philosophic
retirement in 1679, leaving his remarkable Memoirs, first pubhshed
in 1717.
Page 123. La Fontaine. It should be remembered that when this obviously
incomplete picture of La Fontaine was sketched, the poet had
published nothing but a translation of a play of Terence (1654). He
was born in 1621, and the first six books of the Fables did not appear
until 1668. The rest of these were issued in 1678. He died in 1695.
Page 125. Pascal. Blaise Pascal was born in June, 1623, and at first devoted
himself to mathematical and physical research. After a carriage accident
in 1654 he turned to the religious hfe and entered the Port Royal, the
Jansenist centre. His pseudonymous Provincial Letters appeared in
1656, his even more famous Pensies in 1670, eight years after his death.
His father, Etienne, was bom in 1588, and died in 1651. The
performance before the Cardinal is placed in the year 1639. Blaise
Pascal's calculating machine was granted a royal " privilege " in May,
1649.
Page 128. The Chevalier de Roquelaure. Antoine de Roquelaure was a son, one
of eighteen children, of the Marshal de Roquelaure, the faithful adherent
of Henry IV (1 544-1625). He was thus a brother of Gaston de
Roquelaure, famed for his bons mots (161 5-1683). The blasphemous
Chevalier's incarceration in the Bastille was during the spring of 1646.
He died in Paris, piously, at the end of 1660.
Page 131. Marion de I'Orme. Marion de Lou, demoiselle de I'Orme was bom
about 161 1. Like Ninon, she inspired a whole legend of beauty and
gallantry • it was even maintained that she lived on, unknown, until 1741,
and even later, " still trembling at the names of Richelieu, Buckingham
and Cinq-Mars ! " But as a matter of fact she died quite incontestably
in 1650. l8l

MINJ^TURE PORTRAITS
Page 1 36. Mademoiselle Paulet. Angelique Paulet was bom in 1592. She was
the daughter of Charles Paulet, the inventor of a tax which came to be
known as the Paulette. There is a vivid portraiture of Mile Paulet's
beauty in Mile de Scudery's Grand Cyrus, wherein she figures as Elize,
and in this romance also there is an elaborated version of the story of the
luckless M. Pontac. She died in 165 1.
Page 140. Father Andre". Andre Boulanger was born in Paris in 1582. He
was one of the most renowned " popular " preachers of his generation.
A celebrated comparison of his was that of the four Doctors of the Church
to the four Kings in a pack of cards. He died in 1657.
Page 14.7. Du Moustier. Daniel du Moustier (or Dumoutier) was born in
Paris about 1575. His grandfather was Geoffroy, a miniature painter
in the time of Francis I, and other members of the family were also
painters. Many of Daniel's portraits are extant. He died in Paris in
1646.
Page 1 50. Marguerite de Valois. Daughter of Henry II and Catherine de Valois.
She was born in 1553, and married Henry of Navarre at the age of nine
teen. The marriage was dissolved in 1600 and Marguerite died fifteen
years later. Her Memoirs were first pubhshed in 1648.
Page 153. Ninon de l'Enclos. Anne de l'Enclos was born in November 1620.
The renown of her beauty, her wit and her loves was soon widespread.
She lived on, with something ofthe glory ofa hving legend, until October
1705.
Page 161. Bois-Robert. Francois le Metel, Abbd de Bois-Robert, was born in
1 597. He took orders, after a short legal career, in 1623, and about the
same time was first brought to the notice of Richelieu, who soon adopted
him as an especial favourite and a literary practitioner. He became the
Abbot of Chitillon in 1638. It was by Bois-Robert's suggestion that
Richelieu proceeded to the foundation of the Acadimie Frangaise in
1635, and he was the first occupant of its twenty-sixth fauteuil. He
served Mazarin after his great patron's death, and died himself on March
30th, 1662.

182

BOOKS TO CONSULT
Sir Edmund Gosse's Zaharoff Lecture, "Tallemant des Rc.aux," 1925,
pubhshed by the Oxford University Press, is an admirable short study of Tallemant's
life and literary significance.
The full edition of the Historiettes in nine volumes, edited by A. Monmerque
and P. Paris, was published in Paris 1 8 54-60.
Sainte-Beuve : Tallemant et Bussy, ou le midisant bourgeois et le midisant de
qualiti, in the Causeries du Lundi, 1857.
M. Emile Magne is responsible for most of the discoveries concerning Talle
mant des Reaux. His two books on this subject, elaborate reconstructions of the
life ofthe time, are : La Joyeuse Jeunesse de Tallemant des Riaux, 192 1, and La
Fin TroubUe de Tallemant des Riaux, 1922.

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