Chapter CXXXVI: Letter V

Two days ago every one believed that it was intended to protract M. Fouquet’s affair as much as possible; but now the reverse of this appears to be the case, and the interrogations are hurried over in a most extraordinary manner. This morning the chancellor took his paper and read, as he would an inventory, ten heads of accusation, without giving the accused time to reply. M. Fouquet said, “I do not wish, sir, to prolong the business, but I entreat you to give me time to answer the charges that are brought against me. You question me, and it appears as if you did not wish me to reply; but it is of consequence to me to speak. There are many articles I must explain; and it is but justice that I should answer to all those which are formally alleged against me.” The court was then obliged to attend, contrary to the wishes of the ill-disposed, who could not bear to hear him defend himself so ably. He answered extremely well to every accusation. The trial will now go on, but will be conducted so rapidly that I expect the examination will close this week. I have just been supping at the Hôtel de Nevers; the mistress of the house and I conversed a good deal upon this subject. We are uneasy to a degree, which you only can comprehend, for I have just received your letter; it surpasses even my own feelings upon the subject. You put my modesty to too great a trial in asking me upon what terms I am with you and your dear recluse. It seems to me that I see him and hear him say what you tell me. I am quite piqued that it was not I who metamorphosed Pierrot to Tartuffe;[276] it was so natural that if I had half the wit you ascribe to me, it would have flowed mechanically from my pen.

[276] The Chancellor Seguier’s name was Pierre.

I must relate to you a little anecdote, which is perfectly true, and which can not fail to amuse you. The king has lately employed himself in making verses; Messieurs de Saint Aignan and Dangeau put him in the way of it. He wrote a little madrigal the other day with which he was not much pleased. One morning he said to Marshal de Grammont, “M. le maréchal, read this little madrigal, if you please, and tell me if you ever saw so silly a one; because it is known that I have lately been fond of poetry they bring me all the nonsense that is written.” The marshal having read it, said to the king, “Your majesty is an excellent judge of every thing: this is certainly without exception the most silly and ridiculous madrigal I ever read.” The king laughed, and continued, “Must not the writer be a great fool?” “There is no other name for him,” said the marshal. “O!” said the king, “how delighted I am that you have spoken your sentiments so freely! I am myself the author of it.” “Ah! sire, what treason have I uttered! I entreat your majesty to give it me again. I read it hastily.” “No, M. le maréchal; the first sentiments are always the most natural.” The king was very much entertained at this little frolic; but those about him thought it the most cruel thing that could be done to an old courtier. For myself, I love to make reflections, and I wish the king would reflect in like manner on this adventure, that he might see how far he is from knowing the truth. We are upon the point of experiencing a still more painful instance of royal delusion, in the repurchase of our rents, at an expense that will send us all to the workhouse. The emotion it occasions is great, but the hardship is greater. Do you not think this is undertaking too much at once? The loss of a part of my income is not the point that affects me the most.

Tuesday, December 2.

Our dear unfortunate friend spoke for two hours this morning, but so uncommonly well that several persons could not help expressing their admiration. Among others, M. de Renard said, “This man, it must be owned, is incomparable; he never spoke so well in the parliament; he maintains his self-possession better than he has ever done.” The subject was the six millions, and his own expenses. Nothing could exceed what he said. I shall write to you on Thursday and on Friday; these will be the last days of the examination, and I shall go on to the end.

God grant my last letter may contain the information I so ardently wish. Adieu, my dear sir; desire our recluse (Arnauld) to pray for our poor friend. I heartily embrace you both, and, for modesty’s sake, I include your wife.

IN CONTINUATION.

Tranquillity reigns throughout the family of the unfortunate Fouquet. It is said that M. de Nesmond declared on his death-bed, that his greatest sorrow was that he had not excepted to these two judges; that if he had lived to the end of the trial he would have repaired his fault, and that he prayed God to pardon his error.

M. Fouquet, as I observed before, spoke to-day two complete hours, upon the subject of the six millions; he commanded attention, and performed wonders. Every one was affected in his way. Puissort made gestures of disbelief and disapprobation, that shocked every honest man in court.

When M. Fouquet had done, M. Puissort rose impetuously, and said, “Thank God, it can never be said that he has not had his bellyful of speaking.” What say you to this speech? Was it not worthy of a judge? It is said that the chancellor is very much alarmed at the erysipelas that occasioned the death of M. de Nesmond, fearing there may be a repetition of the judgment in store for himself. If the apprehension could inspire him with the sentiments of a man about to appear before God, it would be something; but it will be said of him, I fear, as of Argante, _e mori come visse_;[277] he died as he lived.

[277] Gerusalemme Liberata, canto 19; the verse runs thus:

Moriva Argante, e tal moria qual visse.

Wednesday, December 3.

I have received your letter; it has proved to me that I have not obliged a person who is ungrateful; nothing can be more kind, nothing more gratifying. I must be wholly exempt from vanity to be insensible to such praises. I assure you, I am delighted at the good opinion you entertain of my heart, and I further assure you, without meaning compliment for compliment, that my esteem for you infinitely surpasses the power of ordinary language to express, and that I experience real pleasure and consolation in being able to inform you of events in which we are both so much interested. I am very glad your dear recluse takes her part in them; I supposed you would make them known also to your incomparable neighbor. You gratify me extremely in telling me that I have made some progress in her heart; there is no one in whose affections I would more gladly establish myself, and when I would indulge in a little gayety, I think of her and her enchanted palace. But I return to business, from which I have been insensibly led, to tell you of the sentiments I entertain for yourself and your amiable friend.

M. Fouquet was upon the sellette again to-day. The Abbé d’Effiat bowed to him, as he passed. In returning his bow, he said to him, with the same enchanting smile we have so often observed, “Sir, I am your very humble servant.” The abbé was so much affected that he could not speak.

As soon as M. Fouquet was in the chamber, the chancellor desired him to be seated. He replied, “Sir, you took advantage, yesterday, of my placing myself upon the sellette: you infer from my doing so that I acknowledge the authority of the court; as that is the case, I beg leave to stand.” The chancellor then told him he might withdraw. M. Fouquet replied, “I do not mean by this to advance any new objection; I only wish to make my protestation, as usual, and, the charge being cited against me, to be permitted to reply.”

This was agreed to. He then seated himself, and the examination respecting the pension of the gabelles was resumed, to which he replied admirably. If this mode continue, the interrogations will be favorable to him. The spirit and firmness he displays are the subject of general conversation at Paris. He has asked one thing of a friend which makes me tremble: he has entreated him to let him know his sentence, whether favorable or otherwise, in some private way, by signal, the instant it is pronounced, that he may have time to reconcile himself to his fate before it be announced to him officially; adding, that if he has half an hour to prepare himself, he shall hear without emotion the worst that can be told him. This has made me weep, and I am certain it will affect you also very painfully.

There were few persons at the examination, on account of the queen’s illness; she was supposed to be dying, but is now somewhat better. Yesterday evening she received the viaticum. It was the most affecting and solemn spectacle that can be imagined, to see the king and the whole court going for the holy sacrament, and conducting it to the palace. It was received with a profusion of lights. The queen made an effort to rise, and took it with a devotion that reduced every one to tears. It was not without difficulty that she had been brought to consent; the king was the only one who could make her listen to reason; to every other person she said that she was very willing to receive the communion, but not the viaticum; it was full two hours before she could be prevailed upon.

The general approbation that is given to M. Fouquet’s answers, is very grating to Petit.[278] It is even thought he will engage Puis*** to feign illness, in order to interrupt the torrent of admiration, and to have time himself to take breath at this, and other instances of his ill success. I am the most obedient servant of the dear recluse, of your lady, and the adorable Amalthée.

[278] Petit is a feigned name, meant either for Le Tellier or
Colbert. With regard to Puis***, as, from the sense of the
expressions, he must be one of the judges against Fouquet, there
is little doubt that Puissort is the person alluded to; and what
is said of him in the preceding Letters must be so understood.

It may further be remarked that the conduct of Colbert and Le
Tellier, in this business, was extremely well characterized by
a criticism of the great Turenne, who interested himself warmly
for Fouquet. To some one who blamed the violence of Colbert, and
praised the moderation of Le Tellier, Turenne replied, “True,
sir; M. Colbert has most desire that he should be hanged, and M.
Le Tellier most fear lest he should not be.”