Chapter LXXXIV: Letter LXXIII: PARIS, Wednesday, January 31, 1680

It is impossible for me to see your hand-writing without emotion. I well know the injury writing does you; and though you say the most affectionate and most amiable things to me possible, I regret exceedingly the purchase of that pleasure at the expense of your lungs; I know you are still far from well. You tell me the weather is extremely mild, and that you do not fatigue yourself, and that you write less than usual: whence, then, proceeds this obstinacy in your disorder? You are dumb on that subject, and Montgobert has the cruelty, though she has the pen in her hand, not to say a single word about it. What is the rest of the world to me, and what pleasure can I receive from the account of all the rejoicings at Aix, when I find you are obliged to go to bed at eight in the evening? “But,” say you, “do you then wish me to sit up late and fatigue myself?” No, my dearest; God forbid I should be capable of forming so depraved a wish; but when you were here, you were not wholly incapable of relishing the sweets of society. I have at length seen M. de Gordes; he told me, with great sincerity, that you were in a very feeble state in the boat, and that you were much better at Aix: but then, with the same simplicity he assures me, that the air of Provence is too keen, too piercing, and too drying, in your present condition. When we are in health, nothing is amiss; but when the lungs are attacked, and we are thin and delicate, like you, we run the risk of putting it out of our power ever to recover. Tell me no more that the delicacy of your lungs draws our ages nearer together. God forbid that the order established by Providence, so agreeable to nature and reason, and at the same time so dear to me, should be deranged with respect to us.

I must resume the article of news, which I always suffer to rest awhile when I get upon the subject of your health. M. de Luxembourg has been two days without eating; he asked for several Jesuits, but has been refused every one of them: he asked to have the Lives of the Saints, and it has been given him; you will see he is at a loss _to which of the Saints he shall devote himself_. He was interrogated for four hours on Friday or Saturday, I can not recollect which; after that his mind appeared much relieved, and he ate some supper. It is thought he would have done better to have made his innocence take the field, and to have left word he would return, when his proper judges[165] should think fit to summon him. He has done a real injury to the dukedom, in acknowledging the chamber; but he was willing to yield a blind obedience to the commands of his majesty. M. de Cessac has followed the example of the countess. Mesdames de Bouillon and De Tingry were interrogated on Monday at the chamber of the arsenal. Their noble families attended them to the gate: there is yet no appearance of blackness in the follies which have been laid to their charge, nor even so much as a shade of gray. Should nothing further be discovered, this is a scandal which might very well have been spared, especially to families of their high quality. Marshal de Villeroy[166] says, these gentlemen and ladies do not believe in God, though they believe in the devil. In reality, a great many ridiculous things are related respecting the private transactions of these abominable women. Madame de la Ferté, who is so properly named, went out of complaisance (to La Voisin’s) with the Countess (de Soissons), but did not go up stairs; M. de Langres accompanied Madame de la Ferté; this is very black; the circumstance has given her a pleasure not often enjoyed by her, which is, to hear it said that she is innocent.[167] The Duchess de Bouillon went to ask La Voisin for a small dose of poison, to kill an old tiresome husband she had, and a nostrum to marry a young man she loved. This young man was M. de Vendôme, who led her by one hand, and M. de Bouillon, her husband, by the other. When a _Mancine_[168] is guilty only of a folly like this, information is given of it; and these witches explain it seriously, and shock all Europe with a mere trifle. The Countess de Soissons asked whether she could not recover a lover who had deserted her? this lover was a great prince; and it is asserted that she declared, unless he returned to her, she would make him repent his ingratitude: that is understood to be the king, and every thing is of importance that has relation to him; but let us look to the sequel; if she has committed any greater crime, she has not mentioned it to these baggages. One of our friends says there is an elder branch of the poison, to which they never refer, as it is not a native of France. What we have here, are younger branches only, without shoes to their feet. La T***[169] gives us to understand there is something of greater consequence behind, as she was schoolmistress to the novices. She says, “I admire the world; it really believes I have had children by M. de Luxembourg.” Alas! God knows whether she has or not; the present prevailing opinion, however, is in favor of the innocence of the persons denounced, and a universal horror for the defamers; to-morrow it may be the reverse. You well know the nature of these general opinions; I shall give you a faithful account of them; it is the only subject of conversation here: indeed there is scarcely an example of such scandal in any court in Christendom. It is said La Voisin put all the infants, whose abortion she had procured, into an oven; and Madame de Coulanges, as you may suppose, when speaking of La T***, says, _it was for her the oven was heating_.

[165] The parliament of Paris.

[166] Nicholas de Neufville, Marshal Duke de Villeroy, father to
the last marshal of that name.

[167] The Amours des Gaules have rendered notorious her
gallantries, which may be called by a term less mild.

[168] Madame de Bouillon, as well as the Countess de Soissons,
was the niece of Cardinal Mazarin. It will be seen that she was
innocent.

[169] Madame de Tingry being named twice in this letter and the
preceding one, is it not probable that she is intended by the
initial T.? She was related to M. de Luxembourg.

I had a long chat yesterday with M. de la Rochefoucault, on a subject we have already discussed. There is nothing to oblige you to write; but he entreats you to believe that what could give him the highest gratification in the world would be to have it in his power to contribute to your changing the place of your residence, should an opportunity offer. I never saw so obliging or so amiable a man.

What I am going to tell you, I have heard from good authority. Madame de Bouillon entered the chamber like a queen, sat down on a chair placed there on purpose for her, and, instead of answering to the first question that was asked her, demanded that what she should say might be taken down in writing; it was, “that her sole reason for coming there was from the respect she bore to the king’s command, and not in obedience to the chamber, whose authority she in nowise acknowledged, as she would not derogate from the privileges of the dukedom.” Every word was written down. When she took off her glove, she discovered a very beautiful hand. Her answers were very sincere; those respecting her age not excepted. “Do you know La Vigoureux?” “No.” “Do you know La Voisin?” “Yes.” “What reason had you to desire the death of your husband?” “Desire the death of my husband! ask him whether he believes a syllable of it. He gave me his hand to the very gate.” “But what was your reason for so often visiting La Voisin?” “Because I wanted to see those Sibyls she promised me I should see; a company which certainly well deserved all this noise and scrutiny.” “Did you not show that woman a bag of money?” She answered, “I did not, and for more reasons than one;” and then with a smiling, and at the same time a disdainful air, “Well, gentlemen, have you done with me?” “Yes, madame.” She rose, and, as she was going out, said loud enough to be heard, “I really could not have believed that men of sense would have asked so many foolish questions.” She was received by all her friends and relations with adoration, she was so pretty, easy, natural, firm, unconcerned, and tranquil.[170]

[170] To render this picture complete, it is necessary to cite
another stroke related by Voltaire. “La Reynie, one of the
presidents of this chamber, was so ill-advised as to ask the
Duchess de Bouillon if she had seen the devil. She replied that
she saw him at that moment; that he was very ugly, and very
dirty, and was disguised as a counselor of state. The questioner
proceeded no further.”

La T*** was by no means so cheerful. M. de Luxembourg is perfectly disconcerted: he is neither a man, nor half a man, nor even a woman, unless it be a foolish woman. “Shut this window; light a fire; give me some chocolate; give me that book; I have abandoned God, and God has abandoned me.” This is the conduct he displayed before Baisemeaux and his commissaries, with a countenance pale as death. With nothing better than this to carry to the Bastille, he had better have gained time, as the king, with infinite goodness, had put into his power to do, till the very moment before he committed himself; but we must of necessity have recourse to Providence, in spite of our efforts to the contrary. It was by no means natural to behave as he has done, weak as he appears to be.[171] I was misinformed: Madame de Meckelbourg has not seen him; and La T***, who came with him from St. Germain, never intended, any more than himself, to give Madame de Meckelbourg the least notice of it, though he had time enough to have done it if he had been so inclined; but La T*** kept every one from seeing him, and watched him so closely, that not a soul came to him but herself. I have been to see this Meckelbourg at the nunnery of the Holy Sacrament, where she has retired. She is in great affliction, and complains loudly of La T***, whom she blames for all her brother’s misfortunes. I made your compliments to her by way of anticipation, and assured her you would be extremely grieved to hear of her ill-fortune. She expressed great regard for you. One might, at this time, do almost what one pleased at Paris, it would not be noticed.

[171] Madame de Sévigné seems to have adopted, at this moment,
the ridiculous reports spread abroad, in regard to M. de
Luxembourg. But is it to be credited that a soul like his
was capable of such weakness as was laid to his charge? And
does it not rather exhibit the common conduct of envy and
malignity, which, in the life-time of men of the first order, are
incessantly endeavoring to tarnish the luster of their reputation?