Chapter LXXXVIII: Letter LXXVII: PARIS, Friday, February 23, 1680

Indeed, my child, this has been a very pretty week for the Grignans; should Providence favor the elder brother in proportion as it has the younger, we might soon expect to see him in a charming situation. In the mean time, I think it no disagreeable thing to have brothers in such favor. The chevalier had scarcely returned thanks for his pension of a thousand crowns, when he was chosen, out of eight or ten persons of quality and merit, to be an attendant upon the dauphin, with a salary of two thousand crowns; so here are appointments to the value of nine thousand livres a year, in the space of three days. He immediately went back to Saint Germain with his second acknowledgments, for it seems he had been appointed in his absence, while he was here in Paris. His personal merit has greatly contributed to this choice. His distinguished reputation, his strict honor and probity, and the regularity of his conduct, have been remarked; and it is the general opinion, that his majesty could not have made a better choice. There are but eight persons named yet, Dangeau, D’Antin, Clermont, Sainte-Maure, Matignon, Chiverni, Florensac, and Grignan.[176] The last is universally approved. Permit me, then, to pay my compliments of congratulation to M. de Grignan, the coadjutor, and yourself.

[176] These were afterward reduced to six, viz., MM. Dangeau,
D’Antin, Saint-Maure, Chiverni, Florensac, and Grignan.

My son sets out to-morrow; he has read the reproaches you make him. Possibly the charms of the court he wishes to leave, and where he has so handsome an establishment, will make him change his opinion. We have prevailed on him not to be in a hurry, but to wait quietly till he meets with the temptation of a greater sum than he gave.

You have given me a specimen of M. de Grignan’s joy by my own, in hearing that you are better. As your complaints are no longer continual, I am in great hopes that, by taking care of yourself, using a milk diet, and giving up writing, you will in the end restore my daughter to me as lovely as ever.

I am charmed with Montgobert’s sincerity. Had she always written me word you were well, I should never have given credit to her. She has managed the whole business to a miracle, and has won my heart by her candor; so natural is it for us to love not to be deceived. May Heaven preserve you, my dear, in this prosperous state! which gives us all such flattering hopes. But to return to the Grignans, for we seem to have forgotten them. Nothing else is talked of here. Nothing but complimenting passes in this house; one has scarcely done when another begins. I have not seen either of them since the chevalier has been made a lady of honor, as M. de Rochefoucault calls it. He will write you all the news much better than I can possibly do. It is supposed that Madame de Soubise will not be one of the traveling party. See how long my letter is growing! Well, I will only mention La Voisin’s affair, and conclude.

She was not burned on Wednesday, as I wrote you word; the sentence was not executed till yesterday. She knew her fate on the Monday, a very extraordinary circumstance! In the evening, she said to those who guarded her, “What! no medianoches!” She ate with them at midnight out of whim, for it was no fast-day, drank plentifully of wine, and sang several drinking songs. On Monday she received the question ordinary and extraordinary. She had now dined, and slept nearly eight hours. She was confronted while under the torture with Mesdames de Dreux and Le Feron, and several more. Her answers have not yet transpired, but every one expects to hear strange things. She supped in the evening, and, lacerated and disjointed as she was, gave a loose to her excess, to the disgust of every one present. They endeavored to make her sensible of her ill conduct, and that she would be much better employed in thinking of God, and singing devout hymns, than such songs; upon which she sang a psalm or two in mockery, and then fell asleep. Wednesday was spent in the like confronting, drinking, and singing; she absolutely refused to let a confessor come near her. In short, on the Thursday, that is, yesterday, they denied her all kinds of food, excepting only a little broth, of which she complained greatly, seeming to be apprehensive that she should not have strength to carry her through the business of the day.

She came from Vincennes to Paris in a coach; she seemed embarrassed, and as if she wished to conceal what she felt. They would have had her confess, but she would not hear of it. At five o’clock she was bound and set on the sledge, dressed in white, with a taper in her hand. She was extremely red in the face, and was seen to push away the confessor and the crucifix with great violence. Madame de Chaulnes, Madame de Sully, the Countess (De Fiesque), myself, and several others, saw her pass by the Hôtel de Sully. When she came to the Church of Notre-Dame, she refused to pronounce the amende-honorable; and at the Grêve, she struggled with all her might to prevent their taking her out of the sledge; she was, however, dragged out by main force, and made to sit down on the pile, to which she was bound by iron chains, and then covered over with straw. She swore prodigiously, and pushed away the straw five or six times: but at length the fire increased, she sunk out of sight, and her ashes are by this time floating in the air. This is the end of Madame Voisin, celebrated for her crimes and her impiety. One of the judges, to whom my son happened to mention his surprise at persons being burned alive in a slow fire, made answer: “My dear sir, there are some indulgences granted to the women in favor of their sex.” “How, pray sir? are they strangled?” “No, sir; they are covered with faggots, and the executioner tears off their heads with iron hooks.” So you see, my child, this is not so dreadful as we have been told it was. How do you find yourself after this little story? It made my blood run cold in my veins.