Memoirs of the court of France, and city of Paris: containing the intrigues of that court, and the characters of the ministers of state, and other officers; together with the occurrences of the town. In two parts. Translated from the French:

MEMOIRS Of the COURT of FRANCE, And of the CITY of PARIS.

PART I.

IT was soon after the Treaty, with the Duke of Savoy, that I came to the French Court. The King found it convenient, to conclude a Peace with that Prince; thereby, to ease himself of so expensive and troublesome a War, as that had prov'd; which he had been obliged to maintain on that side. This great Monarch, who having once put an end to the Civil Wars, which were rais'd in his Kingdom, while he was under age, had been so successful in his Undertakings, that he was look'd on as a Prince whom Providence design'd to raise above all others: found himself on a sudden, in danger of being cast down, from his greatest height of Grandeur; all Europe being united against him; and King William, who is now in Possession of the

Throne of England, having been invited thither, by some of that Kingdom; to deliver them from the Apprehensions they were under, that their Religion, Laws and Privileges, were in danger, from the Measures taken by King James and his Mi|nisters: engaged so many Princes in his Interests by his prudent Conduct, that in a short time, he form'd a very considerable League; and put himself at the Head of so many Forces, that he was in a Condition to put a stop, to his most Christian Majesty's formida|ble Power; under which, every thing had bowed be|fore. So that by a Vi••issitude, frequent enough in Governments, one descended of William of Nassaw, preserv'd the House of Austria from its utter Ruin: The beginnings of which were owing to his illustrious Predecessor. Yet nothing in all this War, created more trouble to the King, than the Duke of Savoy's declaring against him. He had often endeavour'd to take him off from the Confederates, but could not prevail. The Mareshal de Catinat, who commanded his Majesty's Army in Italy; and who is as well qua|lify'd, for Negociations of State, as for the Business of War, was more successful than others had been. He sent the Count de Tesse, Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, to Turin; with Instructions, sui|table to those he had himself received from Court: and that he might be the better heard, his Majesty added so many Troops to his Army, under the Ma|reshal's Command, that he made it much Superiour to the Duke of Savoy's. He had two Reasons for doing this; one was that thereby he might make the Duke sensible of the Mischiefs he was capable of doing him; and the other was, that he might not be afraid of the foreign Troops, which he had call'd to his Assi|stance; who might have offer'd to prescribe to him, if they had been equal to the united Forces of France and Savoy. The advantageous Proposals, that were offer'd to the Duke, made him hearken to an Accom|modation. By one of the Articles of this Treaty,

the Princess of Savoy, was to be given in Marriage to the Duke of Burgundy, so soon as she was full twelve years of Age: Until which time, she was to be edu|cated in France; for as yet she wanted fifteen or six|teen months of it. And the King engaged, to give two Dukes and Peers of France, to remain Hostages in Savoy, till the Marriage should be accomplish'd. The King made choice of the Dukes de Froix and de Choiseul to go there, as the two Hostages; and gave each of them 12000 Livers to defray the ex|pence of their Journey. The Dutchess du Lude, was appointed Lady of Honour, to this Princess. The Dutchess d' Arpajou, expected to have had the Honour of this Charge, because she had it under the Dauphi|ness: And she was so vexed at the Disappointment, that in a short time she fell into an Apoplexy; which oblig'd her to go to the Waters of Bourbon, though the Season in which they are usually taken, was al|ready past: but it's now believ'd, they are good for that Disease at any time of the year; and therefore no regard is had to any particular Season. The King appointed also six Dames du palais, one of which was the Countess de Roucy, who is this Dutchess's Daughter; upon which account, it was thought, that the King's having neglected her self, would not affect her any more: But, as we always prefer our own Interests to that of others, she was much more sen|sible, of the Affront, which she thought was put up|on her self, than of the Honour, which was done to her Daughter. It's but of late, that the Dutchess du Lude, could reasonably hope, to have been so for|tunate, for she was not much in Favour at Court, nor of the number of those Ladies, who are allow'd to go to Marli; and the first time she went there, it cost her 2000 Crowns to the Princess d' Harcourt, who makes money of every thing, and who procur'd her that Favour. She had some Difficulty to furnish the Money, yet she has reason to be well-pleas'd, that she employ'd it that way; for she has thereby had

Opportunities, to act her part so well, that she is got much into the King's Favour, and into the Favour of those, in whom he has the greatest Confidence. After she was nam'd to her Charge, she took Jour|ney, very soon for Pout-Beauvoisin, which sepa|rates France from the Dominions of Savoy; at which Place she was to receive the Princess of Sa|voy. The Countess de Roucy went thither also, with the other five Dames du palais, whom the King had named. The Marquiss de Dangeau (who had better Fortune than the Dutchess d' Arpajou, for he was nam'd Gentleman of Honour to the young Princess, which was the very Charge, he had with the late Dauphiness) went also to meet her, with the other Officers of her Houshold, whom the King had nam'd. The Count de Tesse, who was made her first Master of Horse, as a Reward of the good Services he had done at the Treaty, would have much rather chosen to have been Gentleman of Honour. The King had some time before granted the Marquiss de Dangeau, the great Privilege, of the Order of St. Lazarus; which the Count de Tesse thought, was a sufficient Reward, and that nothing more was design'd for him, but he soon found his mistake: Yet he has no reason to complain of his own Fortune; for he is one of those, whom the Court has us'd with the great|est Kindness; yea, I may add, that he is even over|burthen'd with its Favours: for in a short space of time, he was made Governour of Ypres, Knight of the Holy Ghost, Collonel General of the Dragoons, Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, and first Gentleman of the Horse to the Dutchess of Burgundy. This might seem strange, but that we often see when a Courtier has once got much into Favour, the King is so lavish in bestowing Honours and Preferments upon him, that one would think, he was to keep none in reserve for others.

Some days after this, the Princess of Savoy, took her Journey from Turin for Pont-Beauvoisin, where

her Lady of Honour, waited for her with the King's Coaches. They whom the Duke of Savoy sent along with her, to be her Convoy, took leave of her at that Place. And when she had come as far as Lions, the Dutchess du Lude, made her stay a while there, as well to refresh her after the Fatigue of her Journey, as to satisfie the Curiosity of the People, who were passionately desirous to see her: after which she set forward in her Journey for Fountain-bleau, where the Court was at that time. The King went as far as Montargis to meet her, for he knew what day she was to be there; the Dauphin went along with his Majesty, as did also the Duke and Dutchess of Or|leans; and having lodg'd there that night, they came to Nemours next day to dinner, where the Duke of Burgundy waited for them: They were then within four Leagues of Fountain-bleau, which they easily reach'd before night. The Princess was then but a very Child, yet the King was so taken with her, that he stay'd full four hours in Company with her at Montargis. The Duke and Dutchess of Savoy had taught her so well her Lesson, that she seem'd to have Wit and Sense much above her Age. The Court be|gan now to consider, what Name or Title should be given her, whether they should call her Dutchess of Burgundy, or Princess of Savoy; the King inclined to the first, though she was not to be married for some considerable time: His reason was, that that Title would give her the Precedency of all the Princesses of the Blood, without giving them any reason to com|plain. But the Duke of Savoy requested the King, that she might retain her own Title, till she was married to the Duke of Burgundy. He thought per|haps thereby to find a Precedent for him and his Fa|mily, henceforth to claim Precedency at the French Court; for he knew well enough, that whatever Ti|tle they gave her, she should always take the door of all the Ladies about the Court: And, it seems, he knew, that when one of his Ancestors was in France,

in the time of Henry IV. and disputed for Place with Henry de Bourbon, Prince of Conde, at the door of the King's Antichamber, the King took the Prince by the Hand, and made him enter first; and to mor|tifie the Duke of Savoy yet farther, he told him, that he knew not what he meant, in offering to vie with a Prince who might one day be his Master.

However, the present Duke of Savoy having re|quested the King, that his Daughter's Title might be continued till the Marriage; the King held a Council with his Ministers, that he might know what was fittest to be done on that Occasion: They fell upon a middle-way, which was to call her nei|ther Duthess of Burgundy, nor Princess of Savoy, but only the Princess, without adding any more; and thus she was always called till the day of her Mar|riage: In the mean time, it was ordered, that she should have the Precedency of all the Princesses of the Blood, as being the presumptive Wife of the Duke of Burgundy. The King caus'd her to be enter|tain'd with Diversions suitable to her Age. And Mon|sieur L' abbee de Choisi, finding it was become fashio|nable, to be employ'd in something relating to the young Princess; thought, that he should make his Court wonderfully well, by writing a Narrative of every thing, that had befallen her since she parted from Tarin. When this Book came first abroad, some People got into an Humour, of commending it highly in all Companies, as the finest Piece that had appear'd of a long time: But if they had been ask'd, what they found in it that made them boast so much of it, they had been puzled to tell what it was. The more ingenuous and frank sort of People spake quite otherwise of it, and instead of calling it so fine a Piece, they own'd plainly, that it was good for no|thing. Monsieur L' abbee, who sets up for an inge|nious Writer, was extremely vex'd at this; but all those who are look'd upon as the best Judges, agree|ing in the same Opinion; his Book was by common

consent, condemn'd for waste Paper, to be sent to the Grocers Shops.

Before I proceed farther, I beg leave, to make a short Digression concerning this Author; he lost once fifty Lowis d' ors, at Game with that handsom Lady Madam Fresnoi; and having no ready Money, she trusted him for some time, but at last sent to ask it of him; he sent her instead of her Money, a Copy of some Books he had written; telling her at the same time, that if she long'd for the Money, because with|out it, she had not wherewith to divert her self, at Game, as she had told him, in her Note to him; she might divert her self with those Books, till such time as he could satisfie her with Money. The Lady look'd upon this as a new way of paying Debts; but it tempted her to write Books as well as others, that by her own Compositions, she might satisfie her Cre|ditors, when they ask'd Money of her.

But to return to my Subject. The Duke of Sa|voy was not at all well pleas'd, that his Daughter had only the Title of Princess, without having that of Savoy added to it: But if he could not have his Ambition satisfy'd in this matter, he try'd to have it in another. He caus'd a Latin Inscription to be set up, importing that after he had enlarged the Bounds of his Dominions, and recover'd the Keys of Italy, he had shut up the Temple of Janus. It cannot be said, that there was any manifest Falshood in this Inscrip|tion; yet it was somewhat odd, that he should boast of such mighty Wonders, and in so strange a manner too: For it was never heard before, that the losing of Battels, and a whole Province too, was the way for a Prince to enlarge his Dominions, or to reduce his Enemy to Reason. The Inscription was put above a triumphal Arch, which was erected at Tarin, to set off a Fire-work that was raised there, to testifie the Joy of that Place for the Peace: And it was all he could boast of from the beginning of the War; since he had lost not only his Dutchy, but the Battels of

Staffard and Marsaille into the bargain. Yet the great Number of Enemies, which France had at that time, made his Majesty reckon, that he should be a considerable Gainer, though he should deliver up Savoy to him, and even the Town and Citadel of Pignerol, which were taken by Cardinal Richeleu in Person, if by that Means he could oblige him to a Peace. By this Treaty, the Duke was ••ut into as good Circumstances, as if he himself had gain'd those Battels, and conquer'd a great Province.

The Duke having had the Pleasure to see two Dukes and Peers of France at his Court, resolv'd to revenge himself, and all the Princes of his Blood, of the Affront which Henry IV. put upon their Ancestor; and as that great King, had carrv'd it so high in his own House, as to make a Prince of his own Blood, take place of a Duke of Savoy: So the present Duke would needs carry it so high at his Court, as to make the Prince de Carignan (who is of his Fa|mily, and elder Brother to the Count de Soissons) take place of the two French Dukes, when they came to pay him a Visit at his House. Had the King's great Master of Horse been there, to see a Prince triumph over these two Dukes, he had thought himself sufficiently reveng'd of them; for they were so far from yielding him the place in his own House, that they disputed it with him wheresoever they met him. Perhaps he will not soon forget a Debate he had on this Score, with the Duke de Montausier; who having told him, that he never thought, nor was it ever heard, that a younger Brother, of the Fa|mily of St. Maur, would vie for Precedency with a Prince of a Sovereign House: The Duke de Montau|sier answer'd him saucily, that he would let him know, that both as a younger Brother of the Fami|ly of St. Maur, and as Duke and Peer of France, he would dispute the Precedency with him where ever they should meet. But though perhaps this Duke may have been much in the right upon the one Score,

yet certainly he was not so upon the other; for a younger Brother, of the Family of St. Maur, or of any other House, can never be suppos'd equal to the Son of a Sovereign Prince. And, perhaps, he had not spoke after that manner, but that the Duke of Lorrain was, at that time, dispossed of his Domi|nions; so that he look'd upon the Princes of that House, but as younger Brothers of a good Family. And it was, no doubt, for this very reason, that much about the same time, the Count de Cre|qui Berniulle, enter'd into a Debate with the late Count d' Harcourt, younger Brother to the Duke d' Elbeuf, for he treated him just as if he had been his Equal; and was so very haughty, that when the Mareshals of France (before whom both of them were oblig'd to appear, to give account of their Quarrel) made some Distinction between them, and order'd him to go to the Prince's House, and there to beg Pardon for what had pass'd, his Behaviour to him was the same as before. It's true, he went to Harcourt, where the Prince dwelt at that time; but he caus'd drive his Coach to the very door of the Parlour, where the Mareshals of France had appointed the Count d' Harcourt to receive him: He found him there, with some Gentlemen of their Neighbourhood, for they themselves were near Neigh|bours. The Prince had caused Chairs to be set for them, and had also reserv'd one for the Count de Crequi, while he himself design'd to sit in an El|bow-chair: But so soon as the Count de Crequi (who was always of a great Presence of Mind) perceiv'd, that by this means, he intended to let him under|stand the Difference between a Prince of a sove|reign House, and a Gentleman of a good Family; he skilfully warded off the blow; for after he had made those Compliments to the Prince, which the Mare|shals of France order'd him to do, he went to the Chair that was reserv'd for him; but instead of sit|ting down in it, he put one knee upon the Seat of

it, and took hold of the back of it with his Hands: The Count d' Harcourt, who had Orders prescrib'd him by the Mareshals of France, how to behave him|self on that Occasion, as well as he; and who was obliged not to sit while he was standing, told him, that it would be more for his Conveniency to sit down in the Chair, and that at least, the Gentlemen who were there present, would take their Seats if he had once taken his: The Count d' Crequi answer'd him, that there was no need of Ceremonies among Neighbours as they were, and that he might sit down if he pleas'd; but as for himself, he was well enough as he was: With these words, he ended his Visit; and without giving the Prince time to make use of his Elbow-chair, took leave of him. The Prince was obliged to wait on him to the door of the Parlour; and the Distinction which he design'd to have made between them, turn'd more to his Shame than to his Honour. And he himself said plainly to one of the Gentlemen that was at his House, and in whom he put Confidence, that in his life-time, there was never any thing so mortified him, as the Count de Crequi's Behaviour to him that day. The Mortification, no doubt, was great enough; but he met with one incomparably greater, (if he was sen|sible of it) when the Prince of Condee cudgell'd him at Luxenburg. This Treatment lets us see, that every Man is Master in his own House; and that there is a great Difference between a Prince of the Blood, and any other Prince in France, though of a Sovereign House. However, the Prince of Conde's great Haughtiness was brought low soon after; I mean, when he went out of France, and betook him|self to the Protection of the Spaniards; and took part with them, to the manifest Violation of that Allegiance which he ow'd his own Sovereign. I admire that we have not a full Account of all this, in the History that is written of his Life. It is well enough known, that so soon as he was at Namur, he found Reason to re|pent,

that ever he had left his native Country. The Author of that History, methinks, should have told us all the Journeys he made from that Town to Brussels, and from Brussels to Namur; endeavouring to adjust the Difference about Precedency with the Archduke Leopold, who pretended to take place of him: He should have told us also, all that happen'd in a Debate of the like nature, between his most se|rene Highness, and the Duke of Lorrain. If it had been Cardinal Mazarin's good Pleasure to have made use of this Juncture, to persuade the Prince of Condee to return, he could have easily prevail'd; for he was almost mad, at the Treatment he met with: But that Minister, who thought it a piece of the best Policy he could contrive, to oblige him to quit France, was far from wishing his return thither. These, and a thousand other curious Things, which are wholly left out, deserv'd a place, in the History of that Prince's Life; and it would have been much more becoming an Historian, to have publish'd them, than to have entertain'd us, with so many Trifles and false Sto|ries.

'Tis true, the Author did not well know the Hi|story of that Prince's Life; and he is so ingenuous, as to tell us so much, in the beginning of his Book; but since he acknowledged, that he was unable for such a Performance, why did he undertake it? There is no|thing, in my Opinion, more inexcusable in an Author, than to confess his own Ignorance; for since he ac|knowledges his own Failings, why does he venture to write Books? A pretty Idea indeed, he gives us of his Works! Were it not a thousand times better, he should say nothing of them? And may he not reasonably ex|pect the common Fate of all such Authors; that is, to make himself contemptible, as they always do? When an Author is so silly, as to condemn himself, he must not expect afterwards, that others will deal more gently by him, than he has done by himself.

But to return to my Subject. The Prince de Ca|rignan having (as I have just now said) reveng'd his own Family and that of Lorrain, of the Affronts that had been put upon them; there were many Dukes and Peers of France, who found their own Honour concern'd in the Treatment, which the Dukes of Froix and Choyseul had met with; and therefore they consulted together at private meetings, if they should complain to his Majesty of these two Dukes, for having disgrac'd their Character, in bearing with a thing so un|worthy of their Rank: But the wisest of them, did not think fit to do it; for they thought it more than probable, that before they went from Versailles, they had Instructions given them in Writing, how to be|have themselves at Turin; and therefore they could not hope for Redress, though they should make their Complaint. In the mean time, the more Reasons the Duke of Savoy had to be well satisfied, the more did he caress the two Dukes; his very being an Ita|lian, makes him dissemble naturally. The only thing he had to wish for, to make him compleatly satisfy'd, was, that Monsieur Louvois had been still alive; that he might have seen, with what Art and Skill he could revenge himself of Injuries that were done him; for as it was he, who had first provok'd him to engage in a War against the King, by the Slights he had gi|ven him upon many Occasions: He would, no doubt, have been exceedingly pleas'd, could he but have ask'd him, what was now become of all that Haugh|tiness and Contempt, with which he treated all the Sovereign Princes, whose Power was inferiour to his Majesty's.

This Prince having dealt after this manner by the two Hostages, and having nothing else that could vex them; thought it convenient to send them back to France, without waiting till his Daughter's Marriage should be accomplish'd. The pretence he used was, that he had so much Confidence in his Majesty, that he did not desire any other Security but his Word:

He said also to the two Dukes, that it was only for form sake, that ever he had ask'd Hostages of the King; and that he was now glad of the Opportunity he had, to let all Europe see, that he did not in the least doubt, but that his Majesty would faithfully perform every thing he had promis'd; that therefore they might return into France as soon as they pleas'd: yet they would not adventure to do this till they should receive his Majesty's Orders.

The King has also learn'd to dissemble, not only from the Lessons that Cardinal Mazarin taught him, but also by long Experience in Government, and in the Exercise of a Sovereign Power; which has taught him, that the Art of dissembling is one of the most necessary Qualifications for a King: He first assured the Duke of Savoy of his Thankfulness for his Gene|rosity, and then he order'd the two Dukes to return to France. At the same time, his Majesty sent an Ambassador into that Country; it was the Count de Briord, who belong'd to the Prince of Condee, with|out whose Knowledge he had made an Interest for that Employment; for which his Highness was high|ly offended at him, but dar'd not shew his Resent|ments, for fear of a Reprimand from the King.

The Feast of Christmass was now at hand, and the Dutchess du Lude caused a little Jesus to be made, for a Present to the young Princess, after the custom of Italy. She found it upon her Toilet at her Levee; and the Case into which it was put, being of most ex|quisite and curious Work, with panes of Chrystal, she was altogether charmed with it. But upon New|years Day the King made her a much more magnifi|cent Present; for he gave her an Apron with Jewels to the value of an Hundred thousand Franks in it. The Dauphin gave her another, which had cost him Forty thousand Franks: and these two New-years Gifts were accompanied with a third Present from the King, of all the Jewels that had ever belong'd to his own Queen, and to the late Dauphiness. The

Count de Thoulouse, after the King's Example, gave so magnificent New-years Gifts, that they seem'd too great by much, for a private Person. No doubt, but what he did, was by the King's Allowance; and that even his Majesty advised him to it. But whatever was in that, it was to the Marquis d' Antin (who is his Brother by the Mother's side) that he made those rich Presents; and the whole Business was manag'd thus: The Marquiss d' Antin being gone to dine with his Brother in Law the Marquis de Barbesieux, he found under his Mapkin a Billet which was folded; he knew not what was the Import of it; and the Marquis de Barbesieux (who probably had put it there by his Majesty's Order) having forbidden him to blus••, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••is Lady should not know of it; he told him also, that all the Company would allow him to read it, and that they would refer it to his own Dis|cretion, whether he would tell them what was in it or not; for they would not at all vex him. The Marquis d' Antin arose from the Table, and went to the Window to read it. He found, that in|stead of coming from a Lady, as he at first had ima|gin'd, it was come from the Count de Thoulouse, who took the Liberty to call him a big hoggish Fellow, for he look'd like one that had got enough of Food in his time: But he had no Reason to complain of this Freedom, since as the Contents of the Billet made him see clearly, that it proceeded from true Friendship: For the Count told him, that two years ago, he had re|solved to give him a Pension of Ten thousand Livres a year; and that as it was but just he should have the Benefit of it from that time; so now he gave him notice, that he had not only settled it on him for the time coming, but had also order'd his Treasurer immediately to pay him 20000 Livers for the two past years. The Marquis d' Antin, being come back to the Table, told the Company, that they were not much mistaken, if they thought that this was a Bil|let doux, that at least he himself took it for one;

and he was sure he was in the right of it; and for that he would appeal to the Judgment of those present. He then told them the Contents of it; and so soon as they had heard them, they all own'd, that it was incomparably better than any Billet that could come even from the handsomest Lady. They had all the Reason in the World to think so, since 10000 Livers a year, and 20000 of ready Money is well worth any Mistress; especi|ally now adays, when the World is so chang'd, that whereas formerly the Men sought after the Ladies, these do now seek after the Men; and almost all of them are become effronted to the highest Degree; and carry on their Debauchery so far, that many of them fuddle as if they were to gain no small Ho|nour and Reputation by it: and since the Cordial Liquors came in Fashion, they make use of that Pre|tence, to drink of every thing that pleases their Pal|late, not excepting even Drandy it self, which they drink as if it were sweet Water; by which we may guess how well they relish other Liquors: and seeing their Tast is so viciated, that they love even that which Porters themselves detested not many years ago; it is not very probable, that they'll be at much Pains to re|sist those Temptations, that procure those Pleasures, which are much more natural than the other; and which (in the Opinion of some People) are not al|together so unworthy of the Female Sex. And the Truth is, the Ladies are generally sensible enough of this, and are become so impudent in those lewd Pra|ctices, that one, whom I know very well, and who is none of the least considerable about the Court, know|ing some time ago that her Gallant was to be mar|ried, besought him to call at her House as he return'd from Church. It was the Niece of this Messalina whom he married; and the Niece's Modesty is as great as the Aunts Impudence: However, her Gal|lant not being able to refuse her Desire, was no sooner in her Chamber, but she ask'd another Favour of

him, which was, that he would pass that day a bed with her; that at night her Niece might have nothing but what she had left. The Bridegroom stood in great need of Money, and knowing that she rewarded liberally, granted her Request; while the Friends, who were invited to the Marriage, were searching throughout all the parts of the Neighbourhood to know what was become of him. Yet this is not the only Court Lady of this Stamp. But every one of them were lash'd and expos'd sufficiently, in some Carols and Lampoons that were compos'd and pub|lish'd soon after the Princess came to France. There we had the true and genuine History of every one of them, without the least Disguise. 'Tis true, it is not well done to discover to the World the Faults of other People; yet the exposing of them thus, was useful to persuade many of them to reflect upon their own Conduct, and to be more circumspect in time coming. But the worst thing of those Carols was, that they were so full of gross Immoralities, that ma|ny who had but a small share of Religion detested them. The King (who was never of an Humour to bear with things of that nature, and less now than ever, that he is become devout in good earnest) made a deal of noise about them; and said openly before all the Court, that he had one good Counsel to give the Author of them, which was, that he would make his Escape in time, thereby to prevent the Punishments which he must inevitably undergo, if ever he come to be discover'd: If the Author had follow'd this Counsel, it had been the same thing as to have ac|cus'd himself; and therefore, whoever he was, he put as good a Face on it, as they could do who were sensible of their own Innocence. There is not the least doubt but that he belongs to the Court, and that he is one of those who are best acquainted with it; for no body else could know so well, the History of every one's Life as that Author did; though after all he was mistaken in some things: However, after

many had been suspected, and among the rest, a Lady of very great Quality, because her Genius bends a little that way; it came at last to be generally belie|ved, that the Chevalier de Bouillon was the man, but because there was no certain Proof of it, and that all that was said, was founded only on suspicion, he got no harm by it. The King was not satisfied that he had signified his displeasure against this Au|thor, who had thus signalized himself for an impious Wretch, and perhaps for a Lyar too; (for it is not probable, that all the nasty things that are in those Carolls, can be litterally true) but his Majesty made it known also, that he would not take it well, if any body should sing them. But as there are some things above the Power of Kings, how great soever their Authority may be: So this Order took not much effect: every body sung them as before, except that they were cautious not to do it, in the hearing of those, who they thought would give an Account of it to his Majesty. For we must understand, that there are abundance of spies about the Court; and though some of them are known, as the Marquis de Termes, and some others, yet there are of them who act their parts so cunningly, that there is nothing they are less sus|pected of, than of being what they truly are.

It was not only in these Carolls and Songs, that the Conduct of the Ladies was publickly censur'd: a cer|tain Person, who is well known in the World, for an Im|ployment of a quite other kind, than what he is natu|rally fitted for, resolv'd to censure them also, in the same manner that he has for a long time, censur'd all man|kind. As he sets up for a Jester and maker of Ballads, he made some upon the Accou••rements, which the Ladies now make use of, that they may be ready for an Engagement; he brought them forth in slippers, and quilted Wastcoats; ready to enter the Lifts: and though he nam'd no body, yet, as they who censure others, must not expect many thanks, especially when vicious customs are laid so deep, that it s next to im|possible

to root them out, so his performances were so unacceptable, that as a Reward of his pains, he was soon born down and oppressed with a World of Cen|sures and Reproaches. And that much after the same manner, that he had reproached others; that is, by Ballads and Lampoons: but with this difference, that whereas, in th••se which he had compos'd, he had been so civil, as not to name any body; ••et they dealt so rudely by him, as to name him expresly; and, which was harder upon him, that they might cha|stize him yet farther, they sent Copies of their Lam|poons to his three Best Friends, the Cardinal de Bouillon, the Duke de Chawnes, and the Marchioness de Louvois; whose houses he frequented daily, and who could not easily be without him. They were not well pleas'd, that others should be so unjust, as to calumniate him, who had never calumniated any person, because, as they said he had not nam'd any, in the Songs which he had made: Yet they cannot say, but that since the time, that from being Master of Requests, he had dwindl'd into a Poet of the Pont|neuf; he has fallen foul upon several Persons of Quality, without being so circumspect; and there|fore he must not expect, that all the World will be so favourable to him, as was the Cardinal and his other Friends. And as there was no great injustice in finding fault with what he had done, as to the Ladies; so, many others as well as he were of opi|nion, that they had even done best, to have laid by their sl••ppers and Wastcoats. The thrust he gave in, being thus smartly pareed, and return'd upon him|self, the poor Fellow was forc'd to shut himself up in his little Closet, without daring to peep abroad for some days. But as every man returns soon to his natural Temper, and as the Ladies too did not fail to provoke him anew, not to spare them, as hitherto he had done; we have since had a thou|sand Ballads of his making, where he represents them prettily enough.

If Lewdness was so ordinary at this time among the Women, it was not much less so, among the Men; but especially they were taken, with a very Frenzy and Madness, for which they could make no Apology; for besides the Vice of excessive drink|ing, which many of them were addicted to, rather thro' bad custom, than by natural inclination; they had got into an humour of preferring the Women Play|ers of the Playhouse, and the Opera, to their own Wives, though never so handsome; and their Hus|bands were much to blame for it, if they were not modest and circumspect. And thus for the leavings of a great many other People, they forsook their own Wives, whom they might have enjoy'd all alone; yea, and provoked them too, to become common. For nothing more provokes a Wife to be unfaithful to her Husband, than when he slights her, and prefers other Women to her.

The Lords of the greatest Quality, were not more exempted from this vice, than were others; though they be more obliged than other People, to give good Example, for the higher and greater a Man's Station and Character is, the more is his behaviour exposed to the view of the publick.

There was one of them among the rest, who fell in Love with a Woman of the Opera, which very much vexed his Friends and Relations; but there was one thing encouraged him in his amours, and serv'd to harden him in his shameful and lewd Practi|ces, and that was, that many of the most topping Ladies about the Court, went a purpose to the Opera, that they might see his Mistress, and speak highly to her advantage; for those who enter once into a vi|cious way of living, can applaud Vice, with as little remorse, as others applaud Virtue. Those who were concern'd in this Nobleman, had perceiv'd sometime before, that it was necessary to observe his conduct narrowly: and therefore they put a wise and sober Man to attend him, who might give them an account

of his Behaviour. But as youth has an aversion to People of this sort, and usually considers them, as Pedagogues, whom they cannot bear with; so this young Lord endeavour'd, so soon as he could, to free himself of the bonds, which his friends had put upon him. All the young Gentlemen who made their court to him, confirm'd him as much as they could, in His Resolution; and they call'd his Observer by the name of Caius Garrulus, which sounded not unlike his own name, and they added an Epithite to it, which was somewhat suitable to his Employment. This young Gallant's Father, was extreamly concern'd, when he knew that his Son was so fond of this Actress: He spoke to him of it, as a thing which would ruin his Reputation. And at length he spoke to him, not only as from himself, but as from the King, to whom he knew that he pay'd very much Deference. And that his Counsels might make the greater impression upon his Son's mind, he told him, that they who were fond of that sort of People, met often with sad mis|fortunes; and that his Rank and Quality did not at all secure him against the treachery of a Coquette, and that if he must have a Mistress, he should at least look for one, with whom he could live with greater safety than he could do with her. Notwithstanding all the Deference he had for the King, and the Du|ty he ow'd to his Father, he made no other Answer, but that he would do all that was in his power, to satisfie both of them, but that he found so strong an inclination for that Woman, that he knew not if it was in his power to disengage himself altogether from her, on a sudden. He continued (notwithstanding all this) to visit her, and having told her every word his Father had spoke to him, they agreed that he should not pay her a visit for some days. Caius Garrulus advertised the young Gallants Friends of the visit he had paid, maugre all his Fathers Remonstrances to the contrary; upon which account, his Father spoke once more to him, and told him, that he must be

very incorrigible, in that he had so soon forgot what he had said to him formerly; and that being of so high a birth, as he was he ought at least to have delay'd that visit, for some days, thereby to give some proof of his obedience. He took him to task so seriously, as that the young Beau might have been perswaded, to re|flect as seriously upon his own behaviour: He could not deny, but that he had paid her a visit, but the answer he gave, was, that with all due regard, to the Deference he ow'd him, he thought that he had no just ground to reprove him; That Civility, and good Manners, had obliged him to go and tell her, that he was peremptorily discharg'd to have any more Correspondence with her, and that having once had a kindness for her, he could do no less; for she might have been justly enrag'd against him, had he cast her off, without telling her why. That in the mean time, notwithstanding the great desire he had, to give him full satisfaction in that matter, yet he could not but own, that at the last visit, he had found her more charming than ever; that it troubled him much when he reflected upon his own weakness, but that all he could do in obedience to his Commands, was, to pray to God, for Strength and Resolution to obey them. His Father understood well enough, the meaning of all this, and conceiving no great hopes of him, he left him, being much out of humour, at his answer. It was two or three days before the Son paid another visit to his Mistress, yet he sent Letters to her every hour, and gave her notice, that next day, his Father was to give a splendid Ball, and that she must not fail to be there; but that she should come disguised in such and such a manner, that he might know her by her Garb. This Ball was the finest that had been seen of a long time, and all the Court was pre|sent at it, but this young Lord could not as yet see his Mistress there, which put him out of humour, at a Lady, who would fain have had the same Interest in his affection, that the Actress had, and flattered her

self, with hopes, that if she was successful, his Father and his other Friends, would not find so much fault with it: She began to rally him for being out of Hu|mour, that she might thereby find a way, to bring about her own purposes, but he was not at leisure to give her an answer, for he saw his Mistress come into the Ball that very moment. She was disguised in Man's dress, and he went immediately, and spoke to a young Princess, who was often engag'd in the Dance, that with the first opportunity she would please to take out the young Spark, who was in such and such a dress, pointing to his Mistress. She promis'd to do it, and was as good as her word. Caius Garrulus, who had always an eye upon him, having observ'd, that he look'd much to that side, where the new Masker was, and that immediately af|ter he had spoken to that Princess, he began to suspect what it was he had said to her, yet he would let no body know his Jealousie, till he should be fully assured that he was in the right. And observing this new Masker very narrowly, the more he viewed him, the more was he perswaded that it was his Master's Mistress. By this time there was one came and took out the young Princess to dance, and immediately after, she took out this new Masker, which let Caius Garrulus clearly see that he was not mistaken, for he knew so well by her dancing, that it was she, whom he suspect|ed, that tho' he had not had any other presumptions, that alone was sufficient to confirm him in his suspici|ons. This Masker, who was truly the young Lord's Mis|tress, after she had danced with the young Princess, was so affronted as to take out her Gallants Lady to dance with her. Caius Garrulus could bear no longer with her Impudence, but went and told his Masters Fa|ther, who it was that had taken out his daughter in Law to dance: He had a good mind at first to have caus'd to throw her over the Window, and so had the young Lords Mother. But when they had reriected, that that would make too much noise, both

of them resolved to try calmer methods, for break|ing off this correspondence: they caused to inform him, that she was false to him, and that others conversed familiarly with her; and unless he would give up converse with her, it was not safe for his own Lady to bed with him. But though they endeavoured under hand, to raise all the jealousies imaginable, in his mind, yet he would believe no|thing. After these endeavours, his Father was af|fraid, lest what he would have had his Son to believe, should prove true in good earnest; and therefore he appointed a Woman, to attend his Sons Mistress; and to observe her so narrowly, that it should not be in her power to prove false to his Son.

This young Lord was not the only Person, who was fond of the Women of Opera and Playhouse, con|trary to the duty he ow'd both to himself, and to his Lady; there were many others who after his Exam|ple, did the same thing; and but too many who had done it before him.

But among all those, whose inconsiderateness is the most astonishing, the••e is not one more inexcusable, than a certain Duke, who was old enough, to have given greater Proofs of his prudence; besides that he had married a young Princess, of incomparable Beauty, and who deserv'd beyond all comparison, to have been more esteemed, than all the Mistresses, he could find among that sort of Women. But no consideration would prevail with him, against lewd|ness, and he was not only unfaithful to her, but left her for good and all, and went to keep House with his new Mistress: Before this happened, his Father, who was one of the greatest and richest Lords about the Court; had carried his Son's Lady, to his own Seat, in the Countrey, while her Hus|band was in the Army. Her Mother who lov'd her most tenderly, was loath to part with her, and had much rather she had stay'd with her, but could not

obtain it; Yet her Daughter wrote to her soon after, and besought her to imploy all her interest with the King; that he would please to give orders that she should return, for she was not at all safe, with her Father in Law who had spoken to her of Amours, not|withstanding her relation to him; and that he had spoken so very earnestly, that no time must be lost; if she had any concern for her honour, and the peace of her mind. It is not certain if all this was literally true, or if it was only concerted, between the Mo|ther and the Daughter, to get her brought out of that Countrey, where her Father in Law dwelt, and of which she was wearied, that she might live with her Mother, who longed so much for her company. Whatever was in this, the Lady having spoke of it to his Majesty, obtained an order to the Dukes Fa|ther, to send his Daughter in Law back to Paris. He was enraged against both of them, for the af|front which they had put upon him; and therefore though he ought to have been the first, who should have reproved his Son for conversing with his new Mistress, which now began to appear; yet he was at no great pains, to disswade him from it; he al|ledg'd they had served him a very Scurvy trick, and he was glad to revenge himself by this connivance. But if he thought this a good way to be revenged of them, he had very soon reason to be satisfied with it, for his Son became so passionately in love with this new 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or rather he became such a very Fool, as when he knew that she was big with Child, he left his Wife, and went and lived with her: and his Father having given him no great yearly revenue, when he married him (though he himself had 400000 Livers a Year, besides great Summs of Money in his Coffers, and not one Farthing of Debt,) he found himself so 〈◊〉〈◊〉, because of the two Families he had to provide for, and the charges he had been at in the Camp; that he resolved to do, what People will scarcely believe of one of his quality, that was, to

live without Coach, and without that great number of Pages and Lackeys, that Men of his quality usu|ally have about them, and thus he reduced all his expences for the Winter time, to a very small mat|ter; having only one Lackey for himself, and ano|ther for his Mistress; and these he put in gray Cloaths, that when he took a Hackney to go abroad, neither he nor they might be known; The Women Servants wereas few in number, as the Lackeys, she had only a Chamber-maid and a Nurse, and this last serv'd with both hands, that is, she was Servant of the House, and Nurse at the same time. His Friends could bear no longer with his inconsiderateness, and this disgrace|ful way of living; they spoke to him of it, as a thing that would stain his honour to such a degree, that it would be impossible for him, ever to retrieve it, and that he might not be altogether confounded with shame, as he ought to be for such Practises, they told him that this Woman had certainly bewitched him; that at least they had reason to think so; since it was so unnatural a thing in him, to part with the most lovely Princess in the World, and to keep house with a beggarly Strumpet, whose very Trade and Profession, was enough to make any body disgust her, though she was a Thousand times more charm|ing in her Person than she seem'd to be. All the An|swer he made them was, that they spoke so of her, only because they did not know her: But if they had conversed a little with her, they would soon be of another mind; in this they could not agree with him, and having taken leave of him, without being able to perswade him to alter his measures, they were grieved that he continued so obstinately to dis|grace himself.

When they found this, they caused to speak under|hand to the Woman her self, and threatn'd, that they would have recourse to Royal Authority, to have her shut up in a Convent, or in some Prison, if she would not even perswade the Duke to part with

her. One in her condition could not be well pleased with such a proposal, and it quite confounded her. She knew that those threatnings were not groundless, for she had known a Woman kept in Prison Seven or Eight Years, because she had been Mistress to the Count D'Harcourt, whom we have already spoken of. And therefore being resolved to prevent so great a mischief, she promised to do all that was in her power, to satisfy them; and she was as good as her word, for that very day after she had on set purpose, made a show of melancholy to the Duke; she told him that she could not any longer converse with him, as hitherto she had done; because her conscience re|proached her continually with her guilt, and repre|sented to her every moment, that she only was the cause that he abandoned his Lady the Dutchess; and that every body blamed her for it, as no doubt she deserved to be, insomuch that was there nothing but that one consideration, she was obliged to tell him, that he must resolve to break up with her, since their converse was equally shameful, and sinful to them both. The Duke was surprised at a discourse which he so little expected; but having still the more esteem of her upon this very account; because the two things she made use of as a pretence for this di|vorce, are agreeable to a Lover, that is his own in|terest and the virtue of the Person he loves; he did all he could to make her change her thoughts, but the fears of a Prison made her deaf to all his reasons and to all his caresses; she persisted in her resolution to give over all converse with him, and knowing nothing could more prevail with him to cause him to reflect upon his past conduct, than his own Lady's charming Beauty, which was indeed incomparably above hers, she told him that if she was as beautiful as his Lady, and if his Lady had nothing more charming about her than she had, she would not think it strange that he should forsake her, and live with her; but being obliged to confess, that all the ad|vantage

was upon his Ladies side, she could not suffer any longer, that he should be called a Man of so ill a taste; as to choose the worse, and to forsake the better. He wou'd fain have perswaded her, that only her mo|desty made her speak so of herself, that if his thoughts were asked in that matter, he would soon tell just the contrary, that he was as capable as any other to judge of their Beauties, having conversed so much with her. But his Mistress finding how he an|swered her, and that it was impossible to make him gainsay any thing of all this, she betook herself to her first Argument; that her Conscience would not allow her to converse any longer with him.

The Duke considered all these discourses, as the effect of some secret discontent, that had put her in|to an ill humour; and that he might bring her back to her ordinary Gaiety, he offer'd her some Presents, but she refus'd them generously, and as the most disinteressed Person in the World. In the mean time she gave notice to those who had threatned her, that she was using her utmost endeavours to satisfie them, but if they were desirous that she should suc|ceed, it was needful they should do something upon their parts. They bestirred themselves immediate|ly, knowing that it is best to strike the Iron while it is hot; and they came a purpose to wait on the Duke. He would have resisted all the Batteries, they could have raised against him, had they been alone; but his Mistress treating him with so much Indifference, and like a Woman who was absolutely resolv'd, to abandon her former Vices; he told them that there needed no more Importunities, for he was resolved to give them full satisfaction: But if they would know the true reason, why he resolv'd so; it was because his Mistress had determin'd him in it; she who alone had a more absolute Empire over him, than it was possible for all of them to have, when they were united together; that he chearfully and frankly own'd so much to them, hoping,

that for their parts, they would also acknowledge that she was a much worthier Person than he could express: an evident Proof of which was, that she was fully resolved, to bid adieu to all sorts of Intrigues and Amours; a thing very unusual for Women, af|ter they have once been accustomed to those Pleasures. But for her, he told them, that he had so good an opinion of her, he could be surety for her, she should never return to them, that at least he would comfort himself, with those thoughts of her. His Friends did not trouble themselves, to dispute this matter with him, nor were they such fools as to inform him, how much they had frighted her with their threatnings, they thought it enough, that they had brought him to their own Terms, and it was all one to them, by what means soever it was done; the only thing they desired was, how to bring the matter to an happy Issue, now that it was so well begun. They went to his Ladies Parents, and desi|red, they might concurr with them in reconciling them together. But the Dutchess's Mother, (who after she had once taken back her Daughter to her house, could never resolve to part with her) told them resolutely that she would never consent to it. The Dukes Father gave them much the same An|swer, for he continued to be extreamly angry, at what the young Princess had said of him. But, as Men ordinarily yield sooner to Reason than Women do, he was at last prevail'd with, but upon condi|tion, that when his Daughter in Law should be re|concil'd to her Husband, she should not see her Mother any more. This was to throw Oyl into the Flame, and serv'd only to provoke the Ladies In|dignation, so that she withstood their Reconcile|ment more than ever. The Prince her Husband, was much wiser and more reasonable than she was: He told her that by the Laws both of God and Man; they were oblig'd to contribute their endeavours for reconciling Husband and Wife; even though they

had but small hopes to succeed in it: But that in this case she was much more oblig'd to it, than o|thers were; because it was the Concern of her Son in law, and her Daughter. But for all this, she continued obstinate, and she had such an Ascendant over him, that he us'd to do nothing but what she was pleas'd with, it was at last found necessary to speak to the King of it.

His Majesty was of the Fathers opinion, and thought that in procuring such an Agreement, they ought not to stand upon Punctilios; and therefore order'd the Dutchess to follow her Husbands Ad|vice.

The Condition propos'd by her Son in law's Father, that she should not see her Daughter, was qualified, and she was allow'd to see her sometimes, but not above twice a Week, lest the Dukes Father should take it amiss. It went much against the Ladies Stomach, that they should set bounds to the Kind|ness she had for her Daughter; and therefore she propos'd, that if she was not to see her Daughter but twice a Week; then her Son in law's Father, should not be allow'd to see her at all, and much less that they should live in the same House. They found out also a Medium for this, which was that he might see her, as often as his Son would allow him; and they told the Lady, that her Son in law, was more concerned than she was, that his Father should not see her Daughter; if all was true, that was said of him. After all these things were con|certed, nothing remain'd, but to know, what the Duke would do with his Mistress and his Child; and that he would pitch upon a day for being fully recon|ciled to his Dutchess. As to the first, he promis'd to allow them a Pension, which perhaps he has not been over careful to perform; yet I will not vouch this for a Truth; but because he was then as passio|nately in love with her as ever, I may presume, he was prodigal enough of his Promises, but perhaps, he

has been as sparing in performing them; for Lovers easily forget their Promises, when they are not any more to see the Person, to whom they are made. As to the other matter, he made no difficulty in it; the day was appointed, and there was a new Mar|riage solemniz'd. Before he went to Bed with his Wife, their Parents paid their Compliments to them, as if they had been, but a new married Couple: And their other Friends, after their example, did the same; in fine, they were both together, carried to the Opera, and to other publick places, that those who had heard of their Divorce, might see that the greatest Follies do not last always.

One would think, that such an example as this, might have had, a good Influence, upon those, who werefallen into the same frensy, that is upon those, who made but small account of their Wives, for the sake of these naughty Creatures; but we have not hitherto seen, any good that it hath done to a cer|tain Duke, who though he has not as yet parted with his Wife, as the other did; yet, he lives not in much better Terms with her; one of these un|happy Women of the Playhouse, having by some means engaged his Affections. has so bewitchd him, that of a long time, he has had no Converse with his Wife; and vet she's very young, and which is more, she's a Lady of great Vertue, which is so valuable an Accomplishment, yea, and so singular in this Age, as to deserve that a Husband should esteem it much more than he does.

'Tis true, she is not so great a beauty, as is an Aunt of her Husbands, who yet has not been much more fortunate, though she be a Lady of great Vir|tue, as well as her Neice. This Lady was married to a Person of Honour, and a Man of as good Sen••e as was about the Court, which is another reason why he should have used her well; for the more a Man has of Honour and true Sense, the more will he endeavour to acquit himself of his Duty. But he was so desperately in Love with a young Lady, who

is also of great vertue, and is at this time Superiour of the Maids of St. Marie de Chaliot, that he could not open his eyes, to see how happy he might have been in his own Wife. And he did even much worse, than did the two Dukes I last spoke of, for he did not so much as bed with her, the first Night of the Marriage: And if we will believe the accounts we have at Court, he suffered her to continue always a Maid, though they liv'd a long time together, and though there was never any publick breach between them. His Father, who was also a Man of good Sense, and so far from approving his want of affection to this Lady, that he was extreamly vexed at it, when he perceived it, and told him his thought of it, very freely; and finding the Arguments he made use of, made him nothing the wiser Man, he be thought himself of others, and try'd if perhaps they would be of greater force: He told him, that laying aside the authority of a Father, he would now only advise him as his true Friend, and that all he had to say to him, was, that all the Court look'd upon his Wife, as a very agreeable Lady, and that among them who esteem'd her much, she might perhaps find one whom she would think worthy of her Affection, that the best means how to prevent that, was for him to per|form the duty of a Husband to her, otherwise per|haps another might supply his place. This advice was sound and wholsome, but as this young Gentle|man had shut his Eyes, and would not take notice of his Lady's true worth, so he stopt his Ears at his Father's Reasons, and held on his course, without ever troubling himself, with the thoughts of his future destiny. Yet the Horoscope, which his Father had cast for him, prov'd false, for there was never a Lady at Court, made her self be less talk'd of than she did However, her Husband died, and she kept for a second Husband, that, which is so much valued in a Bride. She was reputed a Widow, but was truly a Maid when she was married the second time

And as if she had been born under the strangest Planet that ever was. 'Tis generally believed that this se|cond Husband, has not as yet made her change her condition. He was one of the handsomest men in France, yet altogether unfit for the Marriage Bed; and therefore his first Wife did not care much to dwell with him, though there was never any publick rupture between them, and though she might have made a very good figure at Court too: But she chose rather to leave him there alone, and to revenge her self of her hard fate, upon the Harts, and other wild Beasts, with whom she made War so long as she liv'd. 'Tis true, that when she was a dying, she made a Will in his Favours, which would seem to import quite other things, than what I have been just now alledging; for it's seld••m that a Wife will be so obliging to a Husband, unless she have first receiv'd of his Favours: But all Women are not of the same humour, and it must be said to the advantage of this Lady, that as to this matter, she was less concern'd, and much more modest, than many others are. Hunting was that which she took greatest Pleasure in, and because her Husband treated her always very kindly, save, in that, which most of other Women think the chief and essential part of a Husband's kindness. It seems she made no great account of it; And she had rather, that her Husband should enjoy her estate, than some of her Relations, whom she did not much esteem. She gave the trust of her Will, to the Duke De Les|deguires, but he being surprised with a sudden Death, when he was least thinking of it, and when he had lived but to half the Age, that by the course of Na|ture he might have done; it created much trouble afterwards to her Husband. Yet this was a sea|sonable relief to him, and he had much need of it, to repair the breaches he had made in his own estate, in the time he had been at Court.

As the Court is the place of the World, where the greatest number of extraordinary things fall out:

so about the same time, that the terms of the Re|conciliation (which I spoke of) were agreed to; There was one thing happened that did not sound well, for one of the principal Actors in it, and it has made People have but an ill Opinion of a Man, whom we now bring upon the Stage.

We must know then, that among other methods which the King had taken, to raise Money, for maintaining the War, he had publish'd an Edict, for the sale of some Governments, within the h••art of the Kingdom; and there was more need of Money, for the purchase of them, than either of Service or Merit. There is a little Town nam'd Rue, lying towards Abbeville in Piccardy, and the late Duke d' Elbeuf, was formerly Governour of it. And his Son the present Duke d' Elbeuf, finding that it would be very convenient for him, that he had the Govern|ment of the same place, resolv'd to purchase it. There was one Monsieur d' Augancourt, a Gentleman of that Country, who was neither rich nor much ta|ken notice of, some 25 Years ago, but has now a good estate, and lives in plenty, because he belong'd to the late Marquis de Louvois, and carry'd his Portofolio, when that Minister went to do busine••s with the King. This Gentleman, I say, design'd also to purchase it; and so soon as he knew that the Duke d' Elbeuf had the same design, he took an odd method, to carry it against him; a method, which any other Man than he, would have been afraid of, but he was for bold Adventures, that he might bring about his Designs, and because he had not been altogether unsuccessful in another business, wherein he was once like to have been quite ruin'd, he hop'd he might succeed well enough in this; especially seeing what Friends or Interests soever, the Duke d Elbeuf could make, he was still much less to be fear'd, than was his former Antagonist the Marquis de Barbesieux. Yea it was not only with him he had contended, but with the whole Family of his Old Master the Mar|quis

de Louvois, whose Memory he endeavour'd to blacken. I shall first give an Account of this Affair, and then I shall return to his business with the Duke d'Elbeufe.

The Marquis de Louvois being dead, this d' Au|gincourt, who had the honour to be known to the King, because he had so very often, carry'd this Mi|nister's Portofolio, to the Door of his Majesties Closet; having asked and obtained a secret audience, told him, that he thought it his Duty to advertise him of one thing, which his Majesty knew nothing of before; which was, that his Majesty had always be|lieved that all the projects which the late Marquis de Louvois had presented to him, were of his own con|trivance, but it was far from being so, and that that Minister had always had recourse to him, when he had any thing to do of Consequence: That it was he who had projected such and such things, and that the Marquis de Louvois was never able of himself, to do any thing to purpose; that his undertakings at Maintenon, were a sufficient proof of this, that at that place he had committed a great many faults, which he had never fallen into, had he but followed his advice, that he was ready to discover these faults and oversights to his Majesty, who, because of his great skill in Fortification, would soon be convinced, that what he said was true. The King who is truly skilful in these things, and perhaps much more so, than many People believe of him, finding that he offer'd to prove to a demonstration all the oversights, which he charg'd his late Minister with, gave him, upon that Account a fuller hearing than otherways he would have done. D' Augincourt having said whatever he thought fit for his own advantage, and the King knowing that in some things he was in the right, though in some also he was mistaken; was so far from telling him, that he did not approve of his ingrati|tude to his Master, to whom he had been obliged of his Estate, that though these were his Sentiments,

yet on the contrary he told him, that he would con|tinue the Pension to him, which he had given him upon the Marquis D' Louvois's recommendation: D' Augincourt, though he was in some measure plea|sed with the Kings bounty, because the cont••nuing of the Pension, was a Proof that his Majesty ap|proved of what he had said, yet he was not altoge|ther satisfied, for he had flattered himself, with the hopes of a much greater reward; and that his Ma|jesty would make use of him, in his secret affairs, of which he pretended to have the Key; and expect|ing that the King would bestow the late Marquis D'Louvois place upon him, he continued as often as he could find occasion, to speak all the ill of him he could think of. 'Tis impo••••••ble for one to behave himself after this manner at Court, but that a Mini|ster shall have notice of it, and the Marquis D'Bar|biseux was soon advertised of it, and he was struck to the very Heart with it; especially when he knew that the King had granted him his Pension; by which he understood that his Majesty believed ma|ny of the things which he had alledged against his Fathers Memory. These thoughts galled him so much, that he resolved to be revenged on him, and meeting with him that very day, as he was going to the Kings Appartments, he was not Master enough of his Passions, for at first sight he gave him very harsh Language as he well deserved, but D' Augincourt who flattered himself, that since the King had heard him so favourably, he would cer|tainly grant him the honour of his Protection, an|swered him with as much insolence, as if he had never been his Fathers domestick. This insolent behaviour raised the Marquis D'Barbiseux's passion to such a height, that he himself forgot the respect he owed to the place he was in; he took him by the Cravate and would have certainly strangled him, had not his Friends put him in mind, that the King would be highly offended at what he was doing. He yeilded

to their reasons and went immediately to the King, and told him, that he came to beg his pardon, for something he had done in a sudden fit of passion; that his Majesty knew how unaccountable D' Augincourts ingratitude was, towards his Father, tho' it was to him he owed all he had; that he had met with him accidentally at the door of the Antichamber; and not being able to command his passion, he had offered some violence to him, of which he humbly ac|knowledged himself guilty, that tho' his passion lasted but a moment, because he had reflected upon it, yet he did not pretend to be excusable upon that account, and therefore he would submit to all the punish|ments, that his Majesty should order for him, only he besought him to consider how natural it was for a Son, to be sensibly t••••ched with every thing that concerned his Fathers Honour. The King having heard him calmly, answered him, that it was good for him that he had so soon reflected upon his fault, and had put a stop to the course of his passion; but that he had done better if he had reflected sooner upon it, so as not to have committed it, that yet he would pardon him upon the account of what a Son ow'd to his Father; but upon condition always, that he should never again fall into the like enormity. The Marquis De Barbiseux acted like a wise man, thus to prevent the other in addressing himself to the King; for scarcely had he done it, when D' Augincourt presented himself before his Majesty, and demanded justice for the ill treatment he had met with from his Minister. The King told him he should have it, but that he would first examine how the matter went; but seeing he had once promised to pardon the Mar|quis D' Barbiseux, all the satisfaction D' Augincourt could ever obtain, was that his Majesty told him, he had given him such a reprimand as was proper, and that he would be wiser in time coming, he told him also, that when one had been a menial Servant to a Man, as he had been to the Marquis D'Louvois,

he ought to behave himself respectfully towards his Children.

D'Augincourt might have learned from this, to have been wiser afterwards, than to contend with one that was above him, yet never thinking that the same accident might befall him, if he fell again into the same Errour; he no sooner formed the design of carrying the Government of Rue against the Duke D'Elbeuf, but he gave in a memoir against him to the King, which contained that this Prince, had been several times guilty of extortioning the People, within the bounds of his Government of Piccardy and Artois, and that his Majesty might give credit to this, he offered to prove it, so soon as he was commanded to do it: the King who knew that this Prince had some good qualities, for which he is deservedly esteemed, was troubled to see him stain'd with so black an ac|cusation, as that of extortion is. Not but that he knew well enough, that accusations are not always true; he had seen abundance of instances in his own time, where the Accusations fell back upon the Heads of the Accusers; as it happened to Courbier and some others. But because this memoir was so conceived, as to have all the appearances of truth, the King knew not well what to say of it, and would not so much as speak of it; but the Duke D'Elbeuf, finding that the Farmers of the Kings revenues, asked much more for the Government of Rue, than it was worth, because D'Augincourt had offered them Money, he had recourse to the King that he might not fall into their Hands.

His Majesty, who remembred what the other had said to his disadvantage, instead of answering him, so obligingly as he used to do, told him only, that he would consider of it. The Duke who knew his Majesties humour, which is to be kind and obliging, even to Persons of far less quality than he concluded presently from this answer, that some person had done him an ill office; He did all he cou'd,

for some days, to discover who it might be, and knowing that D'Augincourt, had an Eye upon the Government of Rue, he was almost perswaded that he was the Man. His Ingratitude to his late Master, was enough to make him entertain these thoughts of him, yet that he might be more assur'd of it, he spoke again to the King, and begg'd to know, if he had as yet considered of his Request, as he had promised to do: His Majesty told him, that he had thought of it, but it could not be granted him, for some Reasons which he was unwilling to tell him. The Duke D'Elbeuf, was yet more surprized at this Answer, than he was at the first, and was more per|swaded than ever, that the King was not well pleased with him, and therefore he supplicated His Majesty, with the greatest Earnestness, that he would be graci|ously pleased to tell him what it was, that he had to lay to his Charge. His Majesty answered him, that he had resolved to conceal it from him, that thereby he might save him the trouble, which the know|ledge of it would certainly give him. But since he was so very earnest to know it, he would tell him plainly, that he had received a Memoir a|gainst him, wherein he was accus'd, of extortion|ing the People who lived under his Jurisdiction. 'Tis true the Duke D'Elbeuf, who is not very rich, and who loves to live great, and therefore had need to make the best advantage of every thing; had us'd his utmost Skill and Industry, in looking narrowly after his Affairs, so that nothing that did of right belong to him, could escape him; but how much soever he look'd after his own Interest, yet he had never been an Extortioner; and he could not endure that he should be unjustly accused of it: And therefore, he requested His Majesty, that In|quiry should be made into it. He told him that he who was but a Young man, had rashly done some things in his time, which his Majesty could not approve of, that he most humbly begg'd pardon

for them, as he had also done, when he was first charged with them; but that he was content to lose his Head, if ever he was in the least guilty of what was now laid to his Charge. The King who was prepossessed with an Opinion, that D'Au|gincourt would never have dared, to have given him the Memoir, if he had not been well assured, that what it contain'd was true; especially since he lived in the Neighbourhood, where he pretended that the Duke had been guilty of the Extortions; answered him, that he would not at all advise him, to search this matter to the bottom, least perhaps it might prove more to his hurt than he expected, and that at least it was probable it would prove so. This answer afflicted him yet more, than any of the former Answers had done; and therefore he continued to solicit His Majesty, that he would be pleased to allow him to justify him|self. The King turned away from him, to speak to another Person of Quality, to whom he had something to say: And the Duke d'Elbeuf going out with an heart full of Sorrow, resolved to em|ploy all his own and his friends Interests, that he might be allowed to clear himself of this Calumny. As he went out of the Antichamber, he found D'Au|gincourt with one of his Friends at the door of the Guard-hall, he took him aside, to speak to him in private. D'Augincourt left his friend alone, and the Duke asked him, if perhaps he was not the Man, who had given the King a certain Memoir, of which his Majesty had been just now speaking to him? D'Augincourt who had so much Impudence as to speak ill of his dead Master, by whose fa|vour it was, that he had acquired all that he was worth; was impudent enough to own in the Dukes face, that he was the very Man; and which was more, he told him that he had promised to the King, to make good every thing that was in that Memoir, and that e're it was long, he would

be as good as his word. The Duke was so wise, as not to do as the Marquis de Barbisieux had done, when he fell into his hands. But instead of that, he contented himself to tell him, that he was satisfied to know, how far his Impudence had carried him, that he might come to be treated as he deserv'd, at another time, and in another place; that he would take notice of him, and at last he threaten'd him, that he would cause him to be cudgelled to death for a Rascal as he was. D'Augincourt went and complain'd to the King, and demanded Justice of him. The King told him, he was ready to do him Justice, but he must first prove what he had alledged against the Duke d'Elbeuf; who expresly denied all that he had charged him with: And if he had calumniated him without ground, then the Duke had much more reason to demand Justice than he had. The Duke re|turn'd to wait upon the King, and requested him to appoint Judges, to enquire into that matter; for if that were not done, his Reputation shou'd be brought into question, and that it was not just, that in prejudice of his Innocence any credit should be given, to such a lying Wretch as D'Augincourt: He told him at the same time, the designs that D'Augincourt had upon the Government of Rue, and that he had taken this method of calumniating him, fearing least other|wise, he should not be able to carry it against him. The King who is extreamly prudent and judicious, began to perceive how the matter stood, as soon as he heard this; and he guess'd, that Jealousie and interest, had made D'Augincourt do what he had done; and therefore he allowed that the Duke should clear himself; and promised to name Judges for that Affair: and which was more, he told him, that if he found D'Augincourt had accused him falsly, he should cause to inflict any Punishment upon him, that the Duke thought fit. But the Judges were not named, for some time

after; insomuch that now, when I am writing these Memoirs; this Affair is not as yet ended.

The young Beaus of the Court; were become so profligate, that many lewd Women, came to be in vogue among them; and among the rest, the Women of the Playhouse and the Opera: But there were some others besides them, who came to be as much esteemed as they were; and especially one Ma|demoiselle Chambonneau, the Daughter of a Gentle|man of Poiton, who finding her self every way fit|ted for Amours, thought it was pity, to bury so good Qualities, in an obscure Country place; and therefore, she came to Paris, where she might set them forth; in the view of the finest City, and of the finest Court in the World. Prince Philip, was one of her first Admirers; but he dy|ing soon after, there were others succeeded him, who were fully equal to him, both for Personal Worth and Quality, so that she was no looser by the Change. But before I say any more of her, I beg leave to give an account of a silly Imper|tinence of the Marshal de Milleraies Lady, who is the most whimsical Woman in the World, as to what concerns Quality.

This Prince had not lived a very Christian Life, at least, so far as appeared to the View of the World: And there was a devout Lady, who soon after his Death, said in a publick Company, where the Marshal's Lady was; that his Salvation was much to be doubted of, considering how irreli|giously he had lived; that many People had been Witnesses of his Debaucheries, but none had ever heard of his Repentance. The Marshal's Lady answered, that she confessed that all that was true; but that God was merciful, especially to a Person of Prince Philip's Quality; and that since God was good to all Mankind, he would be much more so, to such a Man as he was; and when it came to the damning of a Person of so great

Quality, God would think twice upon it before he did it: The Lady to whom she made this Answer, would not let her pass with it, though she knew her weak side, and that she was but a magotty Woman about these things, and therefore she could not hope for much satisfaction, from any thing she could say about them.

But to return to my Subject, Madam Cham|bonneau, being the Widow of a Person of such a Character, and being married to a second Hus|band, who is yet more of it, all the young People of Quality resorted to her House. Her new Hus|band was not at all jealous of her, and allow'd her to see every body. And she got a good num|ber of young Favourites about her, out of which she was sure to make a choice of such Debauchees as were most agreeable to her humour; especially the Count de Donsi, eldest son to the Duke de Nevers, a Man of as odd a Temper as his Father is; and to give his Character in one Word, I need only say, that he has all the Vices of the Manchinies, yea, and surpasses them in two things, that are ex|treamly shameful in any man; but especially in a Person of his Quality. He can scarce speak a word without adding the Name of God to it, and Blasphemes as often as he speaks. And as for Drinking, it would seem that in what place soe|ver he is, Bacchus had set up his Throne, and kept Court there: Yet these are the two great Quali|ties he boasts most of, whereas he ought rather to consider them, as very dangerous Distempers; for in my opinion, he who is become a Slave, to two such disgraceful Vices, may justly look up|on himself, as the most wretched and miserable of all Mortals. Notwithstanding all this, he is so very comely and handsome in his Person, that were he as sound in the Head, as he is well shap'd in the Body, we might easily excuse not only this Mad. Chambonneau, but many others; who after her

Example, should show some Affection for him▪

This Counts Father, (who is sordidly penurious in some things, tho' in others he seems rather to be prodigal) did not allow him so much as one far|thing of Money, which was the reason, that he had neither Servants nor Equipage. Perhaps he would have had him to go to the Market as he did himself; for we must know, that when the humour takes him, he makes no scruple to go thither: And 'tis pretty odd to see a Knight of the Holy Ghost with his blew Ribband, in a Publick Market, asking a Fruit woman, how she sells her Fruit and her Carrots. There was a man came once, and told Monsieur Baville Intendant of Lan|guedoc, that he was seen doing so in the publick Market at Montpellier, but he could not tell his Name, for he that had seen him, did not know him; he sent immediately to all parts of the Town, to know who this Knight of the Holy Ghost might be, that was come thither; and so soon as he knew that it was the Duke de Nevers, he went to pay him a Visit; and that he might engage him to reflect upon his own Conduct, as unwor|thy of his Character; he told him, that he should not have known that he was in that Town, but that it had been told him, that he was seen in the Market, that when he first heard of it, he could not beleive it, till it was confirm'd to him by so many People, that at last he was forced to give credit to it, lest he should seem to be too incre|dulous. The Duke answered him, that he had gone from his Lodgings, with a design to pay him a Visit, but that having thought it too early, and that he would not be up so soon; he had done after the Custom of Italy, which allows Masters to go themselves, and buy whatever they have a mind to eat; that he knew it was not so in France, but that for his part, he never stood upon such small matters, so that he might have the satisfaction to

have nothing upon his Table, but what did relish with him.

But this Man is of a singular humour in other things besides this, especially in his way of House|keeping. For when he is not to have any Strangers at his Table, he gives fifty Sols a day for himself, and as much for his Lady, to the Steward of his House, who must therewith provide victuals for them both; and as to his Servants, he gives Ten Sols for every one of them, so that he is in no great hazard of being cheated; since the Steward can neither augment nor diminish the daily Allow|ance. By this means its only when he entertains Strangers, that any thing beyond ordinary is to be seen in his House, and it's then, that he uses to go himself to the Market, which might be thought a sure Mark of a penurious Humour: Were it not that there is one thing remarkable in his House, that is not to be found elsewhere, and that is, that if a|nother Man have one Cook, and an Under-cook; This Duke has six, or at least four of them; for he has an humour, that he will not suffer that one Cook should meddle but with one thing: So that he, who has the charge of the Roast Meat, never med|dles with the Ragoo's, and he who has the charge of the Ragoo's, meddles not with the more dainty Dishes; and so of the rest.

A Man of so singular an humour as this is, could never allow his Son to live such a Life as he did; he had already quit his House, so as not to lodge in it, and he thought it high time to give a check to his extravagant way of living; he sent to him, and warn'd him not to see Mad. Chambonneau any more, or else he knew what remedies to find for his Distem|per. He was afraid either that he should run him|self into debt, by spending too much with her, or that he should be such a Fool, as to marry her pri|vately, as was reported of him. He had reason to look upon him, as a Man that was capable of any+thing

that was foolish and extravagant, though there had been no other ground for it, but only this, that he had taken upon himself the Title of a Duke, though it did not all belong to him, and which is yet worse, had no ground to hope that ever it should belong to him, for his Father's Patent is not for his Posterity, but only for his own Life time. So that when he comes to die, his Fa|mily has done with that Title; as it happened not long ago to Monsieur Vieuville. By this, we may easily judge of the Father's humour, for he married his Lady, when her Aunt, Madam de Montespan, was in greatest favour with the King, and at her greatest height; yet he neglected to have that Honour ensur'd to his Posterity and Family, tho' it would have cost him nothing to obtain it, if he had but asked it.

However, the Count de Donsi, who had heard, that while his Father was a young Man, he had liv'd much after the same manner, that he did himself now while he was also young; and that he could not justly challenge him, for copying after his example, answered the Gentleman whom his Father had sent to him, that he could not think of leaving Paris, as he would have him do. The Duke procur'd a letter de Cachet from the King, for comitting him to the Bastile.

Mad. Chambonneau went the first and second day after he was taken up, and wandered up and down about the Castle, to try, if perhaps she might see him upon the Terrass, or in the Windows; but she dar'd not adventure to go in, and inquire for him, for they had threatned to put herself in Prison, if she should be found in a disguise, offering to pay him a visit: But she was so much a Coquette, that in two or Three days, she became indifferent, whether she should ever see him again or no; she troubled herself no more about him, but considered him as a dead Man, because he was no more in a con|dition to do her service. Only she thought fit to keep some rules of decency with him, and there|fore

she wrote some Letters to him, and expressed herself as tenderly, as if she had loved him as much as ever, and even imployed Mademoiselle de Sois|sons (who's conduct is not much approved of, by those who are concerned in her Person and Interest) that she might assure him of it. Mademoiselle de Soissons went twice or thrice to the Bastile to deliver her Commission, and it may be she was glad of the opportunities, that she might see him her self. But the Duke de Nevers, (who was jea|lous of her, and to whom the Governour of the Castle, would not refuse any favour, because he ow'd his Fortune to Cardinal Mazarin the Dukes Uncle,) prevailed so far that she was stopt at the Gate, and not suffered to enter, as if it had been by order from his Majesty. This was a notable affront for this Princess; who tho' she was warned of what was to befall her, yet could not believe that the Governour dar'd do such a thing, because she was grand Niece of the same Cardinal, to whom he had been Captain of the Guards.

But as he had learned from him, to make no great account of any sort of People, but of those who were rich and powerful; and she being neither the one nor the other, because of the many Disasters, that had befallen her family, he got soon over those considerations, that so he might gratify the Duke. She might have complained of this to the King, if she durst have spoken to him, but his Majesty was far from having any esteem for her, and he had already caused notice to be given her, that if she did not alter her conduct, he would be obliged to send her orders, that would not at all please her; and therefore she had ra|ther put up the affront, and be silent, than by complaining, to put his Majesty in mind, that she did not live as a Lady of her quality ought to do. Yet the King did not forget her so soon, he remembered her more than ever; now that the

Duke of Burgundy had married the Princess of Savoy. The honour that Mademoiselle de Soissons, had, to be of the same Family that the Princess is of, made him often reflect, how unworthy it was of her Character and Quality to live as she did; and seeing she would not be reclaim'd, by what was said to her, either from the King, or from her Friends, he sent her a Letter de Cachet, to de|part out of the Kingdom.

Her Sister Mademoiselle Carignan got also a se|cret rebuke, though her conduct was not altoge|ther so disorderly as hers was; yet she came to be talked of, as conversing too frequently with a certain Duke, who was married: The King there|fore sent to her, and offered her an Apartment at Versailles; upon condition that she would take a Governess of his naming. She had one already, who was as old a Woman as any I know; and Mademoiselle Carrignan took occasion from this, to excuse her self, for not accepting the honour which his Majesty had designed for her, and she told those who spake to her from his Majesty; that it would occasion the death of her old Go|verness, if she should now put her a way, when she had been so long time with her; that it would look like a Tacite Accusation, that she had not been so careful as she ought to have been of her Education; that in all appearance she could not live long; and that so soon as she was dead, there could be nothing which she would so much re|joyce at, as to make good use of the Favors, which his Majesty was pleased to offer her. Mademoiselle de Carignan, having by this means got her self off, she was very well pleased, that she had thereby shun'd the constraint, under which she should have been, had she liv'd at Versailles. She chose rather to keep her own little Court at the Hotel de Soissons, than to be one of those, who make

up the splendour at the Princesses Court: The good old Woman Madam de St. Martin who is her Governess, was extreamly well pleased, a•• the answer she had made; in the mean time, the Duke was advertised of this, and it was desired of him that he would take care, not to pay her so many visits, as he used to do; lest the King should send her such another order, as he had sent to her Sister.

Mademoiselle Chambonneau was in a great conster|nation, when she heard of Mademoiselle de Soisson's fate; she was affraid, that since the King had dealt so hardly by a Person of her Birth, he might come to deal more severely by her, how small provocation soever, she should give him; she therefore intreated many of the young Beaus that frequented her house, that they should come but seldom thither. But he who had succeeded to Prince Philip having encouraged her, by an Oath that he made to her, that he would preserve her, from all hazards; she soon recall'd those whom so lately she had advised to seek for diversions else|where. But there were two of them, whom she endeavoured all she could, to discourage from coming to her House; because she thought neither of 'em fit for her purpose; the one was the Baillif D'Auvergne, eldest Son of the Count D'Au|vergne; who had already so much offended his Fa|ther, that he had nothing to expect from him. For he had forced him to ingage himself in the order of Malta, and to give up his right of primogeni|ture in Favours of that Brother, who was next to him in age. The other was the Chevalier de Kailus, a younger brother of the Marquis de Kailus, who has married Mademoiselle de Vilette, a Cousin of Madam de Mantenons. This Man had not the same faults that the Baillif de Auvergne had; yet he had as small a share in Mademoiselle Chambonneau's Fa|vors as the other had, though I know not upon

what account it was so. And she endeavoured to set them at variance, that by the one, she might come to get rid of the other; or rather, that she might get rid of them both at the same time. The best means she could think on for this, was, under pretence of Friendship, to make every one of them believe, that the other spake much to his disadvantage; they easily believ'd what she said, for each of them was perswaded, that she loved him dearly; and therefore, thought it im|possible, that she could tell him any thing, that was false. They began then to look a squint up|on one another, but their Resentments were too strong to stop there. They agreed to do one ano|ther Justice, with Sword in hand; and to try, which of them Madm. de Chambonneau should be|long to. They agreed to meet, in the Court of the Abbey of St. Germain, and that the one of them should make, as if he were going into the Church, while the other was coming out of it, that so, it might seem, that they had met only by chance; for they knew, how severe the King was to those, that dar'd to transgress his Edicts; and especially that, which he had made against Duels: they knew, that he could never be prevail'd with, to grant a Pardon to any Man who had been so un|fortunate, as to fall into that Crime.

They met, as they had appointed, and drew their Swords, but were parted before much blood was shed. Yet the one of them wounded the o|ther, and each of them retir'd to a Friends house; and resolved not to come abroad, till they should know first, if it was safe for them to appear; but they had notice very soon, that they should do well to lurk; and that the King was no sooner informed of their fighting, but that he had sent an Order to the Procuror General of the Parliament, to en|quire after that Matter. The Count d' Auvergn went at the same time to Versailles, and said to

the King, that though he came to beg a favour of him, yet it was not at all for his Son, who had now of a long time behav'd himself so unworthi|ly, that he did not concern himself in any thing upon his Account.

But seeing, as the case stood, if he was senten|ced to die, the like Sentence must necessarily pass against the Chevalier de Kailus, who deserv'd much better than his Son did, that his Condition and Circumstances should be regarded; he did therefore, upon his Account, rather than upon his own, supplicate His Majesty to give Orders, that the whole Affair might be well examined; for if there was any credit to be given to those who waited on his Son, he had fought only upon an acciden|tal Rencounter, and without any premeditated de|sign to transgress His Majesty's Laws. It would have been a very extraordinary thing for a Fa|ther, (who what Faults soever his Son hath com|mitted, easily forgets them, when his Life is at Stake,) thus to have expressed himself, in good earnest; but it was fit, the Count should use some Art upon such an Occasion. He knew, that some|times Prudence will oblige a Man to blame those, who he designs should be found innocent; espe|cially, when he is speaking to those whom they are accountable to, for what they have done; and who are offended with them. For as one seldom gains any thing, by opposing a passionate Man, while his Anger is at its height; but upon the other hand brings him soonest to Reason, by seem|ing to go along with him in his Sentiments; so it is with regard to a Prince, who alledges, that such a man has transgressed his Laws; and there|fore deserves to be punished. However, the King having given him as favourable a Reception, as he could have desired; answered him, that both for his Sons sake, and for the sake of the Chevalier de Kailus, he wished that it might be found so,

as he had heard; but that he would be very soon informed of it, for he had already given such strict Orders about it, that it was altogether need|less to give any more.

In the mean time, the King came to be infor|med, that it was upon Madam Chambonneau's Account, that they had come to fight; and that she had industriously set them together by the Ears, by her false Reports: Upon which he sent a Letter de cachet, ordering her to be banish d to Rowan. There were some young Counsellors of that Parliament, who got into a humour of courting her, but she found a great difference between them, and that great croud of Persons of Quality, who used to frequent her House at Paris. And being soon wearied of that Town, she would have lan|guished to death, but that she hoped, that her Friends would employ all their Interests to have her recalled. But as among the vast number of Women, who live as she did, there are but few, who are so fortunate as was Ninon Lendos; that is, there are but few of them, who have the art to engage People to love them, notwithstanding all the Lewdness they can be guilty of; so those who had seen her at Paris, forgot her much soo|ner than she thought of. And at last having lost all her hopes, she was so overwhelmed with grief, that she died soon after.

The Duke de Nevers, who while she was at Rowan, knew his Son's Character better, than to be affraid that he would be at the pains to go thither, (for the Count de Donzi is a Man who can very soon forget both Friends and Mistresses) the Duke de Nevers I say, who had nothing to fear on that score, got an Order to set him at liberty: But it was upon condition, that he should go to Mou|lins, and wait there, till the Duke de Vendome his Cousin, with whom he had made the last Cam|paign, and with whom he resolved that he should

make the next, should be in a readiness to set for|ward for the Camp. In the mean while, Ma|damoiselle de Soissons left Paris, in obedience to the King▪s Commands, and went to her Mother a•• Brussels.

This Lady, who while her Husband was alive had been an Honour to France; as far, as a costly and magnificent way of living can be accounted so; had fallen on a sudden, (if I may so say, from Greatness and Splendor, into Poverty and Misery: having been accused of poysoning her Hus+band; for which she was forced to make her Es+cape into Flanders, without having so much as 24 Hours allowed her, to put her Affairs in order If we may give credit to what she says herself she was altogether innocent of this Crime: And it was her mortal Enemy, the Marquis de Louvois, who had forged that Accusation against her, because she would never be in Friendship with him. But whatever may be in this, 'tis certain, that at Court, she has always been reputed guilty of that Crime. Whether it be, that she has still powerful Ene|mies there, or that the King is convinced, that she is not unjustly accused, I cannot tell; but there is not one, that offers to espouse her Interests. Before that Madamoiselle de Soissons went to that Country, it was reported, that she would go to Avignon, and that Madam de Soissons her Mother, would go and live there also: because she could not live any longer at Brussels, where every thing was so dear. A certain Woman named Vendome, who is well known at Court, not by her Quality, but because she brings thither Sallads for the King and Nobility, which are better than any that comes from another hand; hearing, that this Princess was brought so very low, and remembring her former Splendour that she had often seen; was so touched with Compassion for her, that she sent her as much Money, as one of her small Stock

was able to spare, and 'tis said, that she received it; yea, and that she was very well pleased with it. But this is what I cannot aver for a truth, tho' I have heard it told to some Persons of the greatest Quality, who may have known something of it themselves. But I can scarcely believe, that this Princess, was ever reduc'd to so great Straits, as to accept of so small a Summ as that was; and at least, I wish it may not have been so, after having my self been Witness of the great Pomp she former|ly liv'd in. Yet it was commonly reported at Court, that had not the Lady of a Foreign Prince's Mini|ster, supplyed her with Money, she had not known how to satisfie her Baker and Butcher, who dun'd her continually for the Money she ow'd them.

Whatever was in this, her Family has been in a declining State these Twenty Five Years past, and is very much lower, than it was before that time; and this Princess's Son, who should have raised it up again, having been so low-spirited, as to Marry a Girl, who is unworthy of his Birth, has been obliged to go out of the Kingdom, because he found that he could not live in it with honour. And if it be true, that this Prin|ces Mother, was guilty of what was laid to her charge, we may presume, that all that has befallen her, is the effect of Divine justice, which doth not suffer that Crimes of this nature should continue unpunished.

Madamoiselle de Soissons, was not the only Person whose Conduct the King endeavoured to reform; he took much the same measures with Madam de la Force, who is one of the two Daughters which the late Marquis de Castelmoron had left be|hind him; the other was married to the Marquis de Bricquemau, a Name well know among the French Protestants, as well as that of de la Force. But that Religion being now prohibited, the Marquis de Bricquemau, thought fit to obey the King,

who Commanded all his Subjects to be Roman Ca|tholicks.

Madamoiselle de la Force, had already had many Intrigues, which had made much noise; and a|mong others, those with the Marquis de Nesle, and with the President de Brion's Son. This last had disgraced her yet more than the other; be|cause this President's Son, was but of a very mean extract in comparison of her. For without having recourse to the idle fancies of the Family of la Force, which pretends to be descended of the Kings of England, about which the Genea|logists are not agreed; or to what is pretended, that the name of Nompart which they bear, with that of Caumont, was given them, because one of their Ancestors killed a Dragon, which de|stroyed all that Country, where their chief Pos|sessions and Interests in Land do now lie: I say, that without laying any stress on these things, it is certain that the Family of la Force, is a very Illustrious and a very Antient Family. It has produced two Mareschals of France, the one just after the other; of the first of which, the Father Mainbourg has given us a History, which he has composed after his own fancy, in his Book of Calvinism; but he is so often mistaken in every thing, that he has Written, that a Man must be at pains to compose as many Volumes as he has done, if he would take in hand to discover all his Mistakes. But since we have occasion here, to speak of this Mareschal, who was called James, I shall give a true and genuine account of what befel him, at the Massacre of St. Bartho|lomew, quite different from what is given by that Jesuit.

Charles IX. having formed a design, to catch all the Protestants of France in one Net, and at the same time; made as many of them as he could, espe|cially of the leading Men among them, come to

Court, that he might cause them to be murdered (so to speak) in his own sight; while by his Or|ders, the same was to be done, upon the same day and at the same hour, in all the parts of the Kingdom: It is not my business, to tell here how it was possible, that such a Design could be executed, without being discovered before hand to those against whom it was formed; besides, that though I should make all the plausible Con|jectures imaginable, I could not expect to succeed better, than they have done, who have beat their Brains to tell us their Conjectures about it; and at last I should be forced to confess, as they do, that it was a thing that God had resolved from all Eterni|ty, and that he put a vail before the Eyes of all those who were appointed to suffer, that they might not know the imminent dangers that threatned them. However this be, James's Father being come to Pa|ris, where he was called by the King, and having brought along with him his two Sons, viz. James and his elder Brother; he and they were among the first who were assassinated. James was but Fourteen Years old, but was of a much readier wit, than is usual for Boys of that age, and he seigned himself dead, upon his receiving the first blow; that was the reason why he was left there, and had no more wounds given him; and lying stretched out at full length between his Father and his Brother, who were killed dead, he had also so much presence of mindas to take off a Diamond of great value, which his Father had upon his Finger, and to put it in his Mouth, with an other which he had himself; for he did not doubt, but the People would soon come and strip them, and take every thing that was about them; and he was affraid, that if he should keep nothing for getting his Wound cured, and for main|taining himself in some private place, till the storm were over, he might come to be starved to death. It happened just so as he had guessed would:

all the People about the Louvre, where his Fa|ther was lodged, hearing what had been done, came immediately to make all the advantages they could of the Cloaths of these murdered Protestants. The Master of a Tennis Court, that was in that part of the Town, who knew Monsieur de la Force's Sons, because they had play'd sometimes at the Tennis, which he kept, happened by good luck to come to their House, when he was going a pillaging as well as others: He was so touched with compassion, when he saw them in that condition, that he cry'd out and spoke of it aloud, though he was all alone.

James, who knew him, thought that he might trust himself with him, and tell him, that he was not as yet dead. The Master of the Tennis, being overjoyed to see him yet alive, bid him get up and go along with him; and promised to keep him in his House, and that he should not at all discover him, but that he should be in as great safety with him as ever he had been in his own Father's house; but because he had no Cloak to give him, and that he could not go out, naked as he was, for another had already stript him of his Cloaths; James therefore, desir'd him to go and seek for one to him, and to bring a Lanthorn with him, that he might have the grea|ter Benefit of his kind Offers. The Master of the Tennis, brought him all that he had desired, and a Hat also; and making him go before him, as if he had been his Boy; he brought him to his house, where his Wife asked him, who he was; he told her, that she was not concerned to know that, and that she had nothing to do, but to use him kindly. She judged by this, that he was some Hu|guenot of Note; which she was yet more perswa|ded of, when upon his Finger, she saw the Dia|monds which he had sav'd, and she coveted very much to have them; but not knowing any other way, how to come by them, she began to say to her Husband, that she was very desirous he should

put him out of doors; that she could not suffer him any longer to expose himself, for his sake, to those Inconveniencies that would inevitably befal him, if it should ever come to be known, that he had harboured such a Guest. Her Hus|band, who had been forced to tell her who he was, that the hopes she might have, of being well re|warded one day, might give her satisfaction; en|deavoured to satisfie her with the same hopes. But she had rather have what was present, than what was but to come, and she continued to press him that he would rid himself of this Stranger; telling him, that it seem'd he knew not well what he was doing, when he put himself into so great hazard, without any prospect of ad|vantage. The Tennis-court keeper, finding, that he could not satisfie her with Reason, advertised James of it, that he might choose rather to go else|where, than to expose himself to new Dangers. La Force answered him, that he would soon find a Remedy for that: He knew that this Woman coveted his Diamonds, because she had many times spoken to him of them; he therefore gave her one of them, which procured him peace and quiet for some days. But because, that which he had kept to himself, was the finest of the two, and that he had given her only the least, her wicked hu|mour returned very soon, insomuch that she di|sturbed her Husband with her Importunities, as much as before. He who was a man of much ho|nesty, could not approve of her Behaviour, and reproved her sharply for it. But finding that she persevered in her Covetousness, and that she va|lued her Interest, more than any other thing, he spoke to Monsieur de la Force, that he might have a care, not to make a Present to her of the other Diamond, and he told him, that it would be much better for him, that he should go to one of his Friends houses, and that if he knew any of them

with whom he could trust himself; he would go himself, and ask him if he could be in safety at his house: Monsieur de la Force answered him, that he knew none, but Monsieur de Biron, and he en|treated him to go to his house as from him; and that he knew him to be so generous, that he hoped, he would make no difficulty, ••o shelter him. The Master of the Tennis-court went thither, and ha|ving asked a private Audience of him, he was surprised, and overjoyed at the same time, when he told him, that the young La Force was still alive. Monsieur de Biron desired, that he might come so soon as conveniently he could: he came to his house immediately; and that he might not be discovered, Monsieur de Biron, after he had discoursed a little with him, put him in his Livery as one of his Pages, and sent him to Biron. He was cured of the Wound, he received at the Massacre, and having taken Post, he stay'd in Guyenne, till the Persecution of the Protestants was over. He went afterwards to the War, where he signalized himself so gloriously, that he came to be in greater esteem than any of his Predecessors had ever been. And he came to be so much in favour with Henry the Third, and Henry the Fourth, that he was made Master of the Kings Wardrobe, and Captain of his Life|guards. He afterwards married Monsieur de Biron's Daughter, in gratitude to him, for having shel|ter'd him, when he was in hazard of his Life; and at last he was advanced to the Dignity of Duke, and Peer, and Marshal of France. He died when he was Eighty years of Age, Loaded with Riches and Honour. His Son enjoyed all the same Honours, and having but one Daughter, she was married to Monsieur de Turenne. The Dutchy of la Force fell to the Posterity of James's second Son, who enjoy it at this time.

Madamoiselle de la Force, of whom we are now discoursing, was descended also of the same James, who was her Grandfather; but her way of living being altogether unworthy of the Grandchild of so great a Man, who had lived always like a Man of true Honour and Vertue; the King cau|sed a Complement to be made her, much like to that, which had been made to Madamoiselle de Soissons; he ordered that it should be told her, that there were but two things, of which she might choose one, that was, either to go out of the King|dom, or to go in to a Convent: such an Order as this, was like a Thunderbolt to this young La|dy. But as there is no disputing with the King, she chose the Convent; upon condition always, that His Majesty should give her, wherewith to pay her Board. For though she had many In|trigues in her time, yet she was so much a Beggar, that she had not wherewith to maintain herself: Perhaps, had she been richer, she would not have gone and buried herself alive, within the Walls of a Cloyster; but as Necessity forces many People to do many things, which otherwise they would not incline to; it was impossible for her to take any other course, than what she did. There was one Madam Thaumur, who underwent the same Fate, though she was married, and her Hus|band Captain of the Gallies of Versailles; yet he was so good natured, as never to complain of her Conduct. But the King, who had declared open|ly before all the Court, that he would not suffer any Person, to give ill Example to another, knowing that himself was charitable enough, to comfort an old Suisse for the loss of his Wife, caused her to be shut up among the penitent Maids.

This frighted a great many Women, whose Conduct was nothing better than hers; while all good People approved of his Majesty's Re|solution, for the Reformation of Manners.

He commanded the Archbishop of Paris, that in his Station, he should vigorously pursue the same design as well as he did. That Prelate gave Or|ders to the Clergy of that great City, that every one of them should enquire diligently, within the bounds of his Parish, after those who lived licen|tiously, whether under the pretence of their Great|ness, or under pretence of Clandestine Marriage. His Majesty's Care extended also, farther than this Capital City; for he sent the same Orders to all the Bishops of the Kingdom. The Bishop of Angers had a Man in his Diocess, who was ra|ther rich than of Quality, and who was in one of these two Cases. It was the Count de Serran, who had been Chancellor of Monteur: he lived familiarly with one Madam Racapee; but it was not known how they came to live together, whe|ther they lived in Whoredom, or if there had been a Clandestine Marriage between them; for these sorts of Marriages are much in fashion at this time, insomuch, that we seldom hear of any other. The Bishop went and paid him a visit, as he us'd frequently to do; but after he had dined with him, and with this Lady, who ordered all the Affairs of his house; he told him, that he would not de|lay any longer to acquaint him, with the Reasons that had obliged him to pay him that visit. That His Majesty had commanded him to enquire of him, what was the Relation he was in to that Lady, who had the trust of every thing in his house. For if she served him only for his pleasure, and was not married to him, he must resolve never to see her any more. The Count de Serran knowing that his Wealth, which made him absolute in that Coun|try, could do him no service, in shifting a que|stion that was put to him in the Kings Name; was forced to own, that they were mar|ried together. The Bishop answered him, that his owning of the Marriage was something, and

that he could discourse willingly with him upon the reasons, which he offered him at the same time, for hav|ing so long concealed it; but that all that was not e|nough, for such an Answer, as he must give the King. That if it were only he, who as Bishop of the place, came to enquire after it; he would be|lieve it, upon his word; but since his business was with the King, it was absolutely necessary to shew other Proofs for it. The Count hearing him speak after such a manner, went and searched for the Marriage-contract, which he had made with this Lady, and shewed him at the same time, a Certificate of their Marriage. He asked for no more, and having given an Account of it to the King, it has produ|ced so good an effect, that this Count owns it o|penly in his Family; so that Madam de Racapee, is now considered as his Lady.

About this time, the City of Paris came to have one of its principal Magistrates changed, though this Office be neither ancient nor honourable; I mean the Office of Lieutenant de Police, which was at its first Institution, in the year 1667. bestowed upon Monsieur de la Reinie, who is still alive. For there was never any such Magistrate before that time, and all the parts of that Office were performed by the Lieutenant Civil. But His Majesty considering, that in so great a City as this Metropolis, it was too great a Charge for one Man, to attend particular Affairs, and the more publick Concerns of the City at the same time; he created this new Office in his Favour. 'Tis true, Political Reasons obliged him to institute it, as much as Zeal for Justice did. For the King had found by experience, while he was under age, that this City alone, was capable by its example, to cause an Insurrection throughout the who••e Kingdom. And therefore, he thought fit, to have a Man there, of his own Appointment, in whom he might put con|fidence, who might narrowly observe every thing that was done in the City. He settled Twelve Thou|sand

Franks a year upon this Magistrate; and Mon|sieur de la Reinie, after he had discharged this Office, for at least 25 years, becoming old, and perhaps that he might complement the chief Minister of State, desired him some years ago, that he would give him his Nephew Monsieur de Bignon for his Coadjutor.

As this Office, gives a Man much Authority and Interest at Court, upon which he immediately de|pends; therefore, Monsieur Bignon, who is now In|tendant of Picardy, accepted of it, by the Advice of his Parents and Friends; but being of a Family, that has been always obliging and full of huma|nity, he became soon wearied of it; for he saw, that he could not discharge that Office, unless, he be|came severe and rigorous, and therefore, he made an Interest, to be Intendant of a Province, and ob|tained that of Amie••s. In the mean while, Mon|sieur de Reinie growing now very old, for he is about Eighty years of Age, supplicated anew, that he might be eased of this Burden, and that he might be allowed to sell his Office. The King granted his request, upon condition, that he should resign in favour of Monsieur d' Argenson. This Gentleman is of much better Quality than Monsieur de la Reinie, and falls nothing short of him, as to good sense; be|sides, that he has all necessary Qualities to make himself to be feared, and his very Presence strikes dread, if it doth not create respect. His Father had been the Kings Embassador to the Republick of Venice, and his Ancestors were equally famous for the Gown and for the Sword; but 'tis seldom that a Man grows rich by Embassies, and his Father who is still alive, spent a good part of his own Estate in that Em|ployment; so that his Son had been forced to ac|cept of an Office, that was below him, that is, to be Lieutenant General of Limoges; but his good Fortune having brought him to Court, and having got some Commissions, of which he so acquitted him|self,

that the Court was fully satisfied with what he had done, he thereby opened the way to this Employment we are now speaking of: The Lieu|tenant de Police is answerable to the Parliament of Paris; and therefore Monsieur D' Argenson, some days, after he had entered upon his Office, went and pay'd a visit to the chief President, and begged the honour of his Protection. This Magistrate, who has a grave Aspect and affects to appear graver than he truly is, received him the same way, that he uses to receive all other People, and heard his Complement without so much as moving an Eyebrow: finding that he had done with it, made him no answer but these Three Words, Safety, Cleanness, Light; and im|mediately turned his back upon him. Monsieur D' Argenson would have been more surprised, if he had not known his Character; but having known it of a long time, he returned home, thinking what could be the meaning of these Three Words, and he soon found it out. He understood easily that by the first, he meant, that he should take care of the night Watch, that no Robberies or Murders by Night might be heard of in the City. By the Second, that he should take care, that those who had the charge of clean|sing the Streets, should punctually do their duty; and by the Third, that he should do the same, as to those, who have the charge of the Lan|thorns: These Three parts of this Office, made Monsieur Bignon nauseate it; and there were also some other things in it, that were no less disa|greable to such a Man as he is.

However, his niceness, was much to Monsieur de la Reinie's advantage, for he got Fifty Thou|sand Crowns from Monsieur D' Argenson, for re|signing his place to him; and he would have got much more, had not the King determined the Price. The Lieutenant de Police pays no yearly

Tax to the King for his Office, as all the Offices of Long Robe do, except the Chancellor, the Chief Presi|dent of Parliament; and . . . . . And the King gave Monsieur D'Argenson, a Warrant of Retension for a Hundred Thousand Franks; He enter'd upon the Exercise of it, by declaring War against all those, whether Men or Women, that used to play at Lansquenet; He had express Orders for this, from his Majesty; because he had observed, that in some Years before, that unhappy Game, as well as the other Game of Basset; had ruin'd a great number of the Officers of his Army, who had been forced to quit their Companies, be|cause, they had lost all the Money, with which, they should have raised Recruits.

Monsieur Bignon Counsellor of State, who was the Father of that Gentleman I was just now speaking of; came to die suddenly, about this time, without having any time to prepare himself for another World: He had gone to bed at Night, af|ter having taken his Supper as he used to do, without complaining of any Pain or Sickness; but the next Morning, he was found dead in his Bed. The Office of State which he had enjoyed, would have been very convenient for his Son, who had nothing else to hope for, by his Death; for all his Estate was not sufficient to pay his Debts; But because the King had declared long ago, that he would not at all, make those Offices like He|re••itary ones, to descend from Father to Son, he therefore, thought it his interest to proceed cautiously in this matter, and to take prudent measures, before he should address himself to the King for it. It was easier for him, than it would have been for another Man, to bring about this design; because he was the Nephew of Monsieur de Ponchartrain, who had served the King to very good purpose, ever since the time that he was made Comptrollor-General, in the place o••

Monsieur le Pelletier. There were few, who could have acquitted themselves in so difficult a post, with so much Art and Success, as he has done, at a time, when the publick Affairs were in such a posture, as they have always been in since he was called to it. Tis certainly matter of Wonder and of Amazement at the same time, to see the dif|ference betwixt the way of managing the King's Revenues at this time, and that which was taken under the Ministry of Cardinal Mazarin. For when there was need but of a Million, they were at incredible pains and toil, to contrive a way how to raise it: Those who are acquainted with the History of those times, know, that when Dunkirk was taken in the year 1658. it could not be ran|somed out of the Hands of the English, because we had not Three Millions of Money to give for it; for which Sum we could have recovered it, by vir|tue of a secret Treaty with Cromwell; so that the King was forced to add a Million more to that Sum, when he redeemed it some Years after: Besides, it was needful then, to use all the Political Arts and Pretences imaginable, before that such a Sum could be raised Whereas now, if the King had use for Fifty Millions, he has nothing to do but to speak the word, and he has it, so to speak, in a Quarter of an Hour. However, Monsieur Pontchartrain did not rely so much upon his own Merits, as upon that account to flatter himself with the hopes of obtaining this fa|vour to his Nephew, because of some difficulties which he foresaw must be removed, before he could speak of it to his Majesty: The great difficulty was, that the King had promised to Monsieur de Caumartin, Intendant of the Kings Revenues, the first place that should fall void, among the Counsellors of State: He knew that the King was mindful of his Promises, and that he would not forget them, but for very good Reasons; and therefore, he spake to Monsieur de Cau|martin, and told him, he would oblige him very much,

if he would quit his Pretensions in Favour of his Ne|phew. As every Man loves to oblige a Minister of State, so Monsieur Caumartin, promised not to do any thing, that could put his Majesty in mind of what he had promised him, but the King remembred it himself; so that when Monsieur de Ponchartrain spoke to him for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 B••gnon, he answered, that he was very sorry he could not grant what he asked of him, but there were two Reasons that hindred him from doing it. The one was, that he had resol|ved not to set th••se Offices pass from Father to Son: The ohter was, that he was under a promise to give Monsieur Caumartin, the first of those places that should f••ll 〈◊〉〈◊〉. So Monsieur Caumartin was made Coun|sellor of State, though he was willing to have re|nounced it, at Monsieur de Pontchartrain's desire. The first time that he sat in Council, he pretended to take his Place, as if he had been always there, from the first Day he was named Intendant of the Reve|nues, because these Intendants have a Brief of the Crown. as Counsellors of State; but those whom he would have taken place of, if he had succeeded in his Claim, opposing him in that matter, the Chan|cellor, who was proper Judge in it, determined it in their Favour. Two or Three days before Monsieur de B••gnon's Death, his Brother, who was chief Presi|dent of the great Council, fell sick, when his sickness appeared dangerous, (for he died of it within Six or Seven days after,) no body would tell him, what had befallen his Brother, lest he should become Appre|hensive that he should soon follow him.

But because his Brother had come to see him in the beginning of his Sickness, but could not come af|terwards, (for he was in his Grave) he asked the only Daughter he had, if he had already forgotten him. He had married this Daughter to Monsieur de Verthamont, Master of Requests, who was already one of the Richest Men that wore a Gown, but who came to be much Richer by succeeding him in

his Estate; for this Monsieur Bignon had incompara|bly a greater Estate than his elder Brother: He was worth at least Four Hundred Thousand Crowns; yet his Daughter was nothing the hap|pier for that, for her Husband did not love her at all: either because he thought she had not Beauty enough to deserve that he should love her; or be|cause he was too much inclin••d to We••ching to love a Wife; for it was known that he had Mistress••s, and she was forced to behave herself obligingly to them, and to keep 〈…〉〈…〉 with them, that so she might be often in company with her Hu••band, for she had as much Affection for him, as he had Indifferency for her.

Monsieur de Verthamont's Inclinations to the Fe|male Sex, his been 〈◊〉〈◊〉 enough known, of a long time; though somewhile and he ••ell thereby into such an Inconvent me, as might have discouraged him from 〈…〉〈…〉, for the 〈…〉〈…〉. He was in love with a young Girl, that had so me Brothers, who were Office••s in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. She was, at least of as good a Family as had as, but th•••• was a vast diff|rence betwixt th•• is Fortunes; and the was a•• poor as he was rich: The 〈…〉〈…〉 their Sister to comply with him, 〈…〉〈…〉 take 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Measures as should 〈…〉〈…〉 to give her a Por|tion. Perhaps she 〈…〉〈…〉 though they had not advised her to it; and if we may be|lieve what is repor•••••• of her, she loved him, as much as he loved her. However this Girl having given him an 〈…〉〈…〉 is surprised him with her, and 〈…〉〈…〉 to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hard up|on him, if he would not do them Justice. H•• offer|ed them a considerable Sum of Mercy, i•• they would let him go. He had it not about him, for it was a greater Sum than a Man usually carries in his Pocket; but having given them his No••e, he thought it even best to pay it, without more ado, that his misfortunes might not come to be talked of:

If a certain Knight of the Holy Ghost, who is now at Court, could have thus compounded the matter with his Lady's Brothers, perhaps he had never married her; But these Gentlemen were not for capitulating on such Terms, as the Brothers of the former Girl had done; he was forced against his Will, to yield to their Terms; besides that, it may be, his Note would not have been so well an|swered as was Monsieur de Verthamont▪s.

But that I may not go farther from my Subject; I say, that this Magistrate's Lady, having by some pretence or other, satisfied her Father, when he complained, that his Brother came not to see him; he died, without knowing that he was gone before him, and that he had payed that debt, that all men must necessarily pay. Though his Office was but of a late Creation, yet there were abundance of Candidates for it: for the place of Chief Presi|dent, and especially, of such a famous Society as is the Great Council, is not to be slighted, when there is a fair opportunity of obtaining it. But the King, who has always a great regard to the Chil|dren of his Ministers, when the Offices they have enjoyed, may, without any bad Con••equence be dis|posed of, as if they were hereditary, bestowed it upon Monsieur de Verthamont. For the reason why the Places of Counsellors of State should not be so disposed of, is, that if the King should let them descend to the Children, or to the nearest Kins|men, he should not have, wherewith to reward those who serve him faithfully in the Counsel, and in the other Offices of the Gown. For they serve not for any other end, but that one day they may come to be Counsellors of State; at least, the hopes of this, has been their great motive for some time past; because we see, that the King has chosen Two or Three of that Body to be Chan|cellors of the Kingdom, and therefore, every one strives to recommend himself to his Majesty, by his

diligence in his Service; whether in the Inten|dancies, or in any other Commissions. We may easily be convinced, how much it is for the Kings Interest, to have Persons of this sort about him; and perhaps he should not find them so exact and punctual, in the discharge of their Duty, if it were not, that they have always that recompence in their View, as the fruit of all their Labours.

There were Two other Brothers, died some days after the death of the Two Bignons, and there was one strange thing observed of them; that never any thing happened to the one, but what befel the other at the same time: they were Twins, and so like one another in the Face, that had not the one been a Soldier, and the other a Lawyer, so that their different Garbs made them known, the one would have been often taken for the other. They were both much given to gaming, and if one lost his mo|ney, it was sure the other lost his also, at the same time. When he who went to the Army was wound|ed, the other was wounded also by a fall, or some other Accident. If the one had a Mistress that jilted him, the other met with the same Treat|ment from his. In a word, all the difference that ever was taken notice of, was, that the one con|tinued a Batchelor, much longer than the other; and there was nothing wanting in their whole life, but that one thing, to justifie what is ordinarily said of Children, that are born at the same Birth; That whatever happens to the one, inevitably be|fals the other. But perhaps he who continued a Batchelor so long after the other was married, did so, because he thought his Brother not very happy in his Marriage. There are some Wives, who give no great Encouragement to Men, to ven|ture upon Marriage, especially, when they set up for Wits, and will pass a judgment upon every thing. It is the two Bauquemars of whom I am now

speaking; the one of them, was Marishal de Camp, and Governour of Bergues; the other President of Requests of the Palace. The King gave this Govern|ment to the Count de la Motthe, Nephew of the late Marshal d•• la Motthe H••udanc••ur who was also Mari|shal de Camp. The Count a•• Brion, eldest Son of Monsieur le Grand, and who had the survivance of Master of Horse to the King, fell at this time in|to an Ap••plex••, though he was not at most, but Thirty Five Years of Age: And it was so ex|treme vi••••l••nt, that his Face was dis••orted to that degree, that not only his Mouth stood aw••y, but what was yet more ••mazing, one o•• his Eyes came d••wn int•• the Middle of his Face. His Father and Mother sent him to the Waters of B••urbon, and as he was up••n h••s Journey thithe••, he sell into an••t••er ••it of the same Disease, so that it was beli••ved he was quite gone; yet he recovered of it, as he had do••e of ••he first, and having made out hi•• J••urney, the Waters a••d the n••tural strength of his Youth, r••covered h••m to a ••etter State of Heal••h. The K••••g, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••as al••a••s loved his Fa|t••••••, was ••o goo•• as to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 how glad he was at hi•• R••covery. Bu•• 〈…〉〈…〉 gave Ma••ame la 〈…〉〈…〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••nd m••r•• sensible ••roofs of 〈…〉〈…〉 every body: She had a 〈…〉〈…〉, c••••cerning the Inheritance of 〈…〉〈…〉, which she alleged, 〈…〉〈…〉 King alle••ed the contrary; 〈…〉〈…〉 to be well ••ou••ded, because 〈…〉〈…〉 wh••ch the De••••te 〈…〉〈…〉 the Portion of one of the Sons of 〈…〉〈…〉 F••ance, and re••urned always to the 〈…〉〈…〉 were n••t Heirs ma••e to enjoy it. 〈…〉〈…〉 Madame la grande 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈…〉〈…〉 his fi••st Cousin, was not very rich; 〈…〉〈…〉 gi••e her only Sixty Thou|sa••d 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉〈◊〉; for which reason it is, that she travels only with one Co••ch, which is

not very becoming a Princess of the Blood, and especially a Grand-daughter of Henry IV. the King, I say, considering her Poverty, and that besides, she had some Reasons for her Claim, which seem'd to answer his own Reasons, told her, that if she pleased, he would let her enjoy her Sister's Estate during her Life, upon condition, that she should re|nounce the Property of it. This Princess, who de|sired only to be rich by the Revenue, without troubling her self, with what might happen after her Death, consented very willingly to this Propo|sal. But His Majesty has since that time, had some scruples of Conscience, because he had only given her the Profits of that Estate during her Life, which perhaps belonged to her in Property, and there|fore, he has resigned the Property in her Favour, as he had formerly done the Revenue. This tenderness of Conscience, that will not allow this Prince to do any thing, for which it may reproach him, had made him reflect often, upon many things, that had passed during his Reign, which might be re|presented in other Colours than those were, which had been made use of to perswade him to under|take them. He saw, that his whole Kingdom was in a Flame, and that there was no other way to extinguish it, but by restoring a great number of Places, which his Enemies alleged he had taken only by force of Arms; and because he found it for his own conveniency to have them, without having any other right to them. If he had pleased, he might perhaps not only have let all Europe see the contrary, since he can give good reasons for what he has done; but he could have also main|tain'd his right to those Places ••y his Arms, since in despite of the prodigious Consederacy that has been form'd against him, he has always had the advantage of his Enemies, ever since he first per|ceived their Designs against his Crown.

However, as His Majesty has of a long time been chiefly concerned with his eternal Sal|vation; the care of which, has made many scru|ples arise in his Conscience: So, we admired and were astonished to see, that on a sudden, he had offered to deliver up the Towns of Strasburg and Luxenburg, which were the strongest Barriers of his Kingdom; Nay, he offered also to deliver up many others, which it must be confessed, were ta|ken airly, with Sword in hand, when his Enemies were Witnesses of his Victories, and could no lon|ger resist his Arms, though they were all as|sembled against him; so that it seems just to say, that he had a right to keep them or at least, to demand the Equivalent of them But the King considered, that 〈…〉〈…〉 would break this dreadful Conspiracy, and restore Peace to his People, who groan'd under ••e Burthen of the most cruel War, that ever was raised against any Soveraign, he must part with his own Interests He had sent long ago, the Steu•• de Calli••rs to Holland, to make Pro|posals of Peace. He addressed himself to that Peo|ple, rather than to any others; because he knew that the States, which subsist only by Trade, would hearken sooner, than any of the rest would do, when one spoke to them of putting an end to a War, which troubled them upon all quarters. Be|sides, the Dutch could gain nothing, by the Con|tinuance of it; for they were not like the House of Austria, which flatters it self, that by the Conti|nuance of War, it shall at last recover that su|preme Power, that it once had in the time of Charles the Fifth. There was not one of the All••es, except only this House, who could hope to make any ad|vantage of what was then doing in Europe. In|somuch, that it may be justly said, that all the Princes who were in that Confederacy, had taken up Arms, only for the Interests of the House of Austria; for all the Conquests they could hope

for from the King, must have belonged to it. And though the Princes of the Empire had other Pre|tensions; yet, seeing they find by long experience, that the Emperor makes use of them (if I may be allowed to speak so) only as the Ape made use of the Cat's Foot, to take the Chesnuts out of the Fire; and that he has always known how to make use of the Right of Sequestration (to which he pretends) to his own advantage and their loss, and that at the Peace of Nimiguen, he kept Philipsburg to him|self, though it belonged to the Bishop of Spire: They could therefore easily see, that they exhau|sted themselves only for his sake, and that they could expect no Benefit by it themselves. And though they had run headlong into the Confederacy against his Majesty, when it was propos'd to them; yet, that was only, because of the Fears they were under, from the Greatness of his Power. They con|sidered, that it was their misfortune, to have their Do|minions lying between Two Princes, whom they ought equally to suspect; and that they should do best to declare against him, who seemed to be in the greatest readiness to ruine them, rather than against the other, who was not as yet, in a condition to hurt them. These were the considerations that for|med the Bonds, which united them so firmly with the Emperor; and which became the more indis|soluble, that his Imperial Majesty found a way, how to keep these Princes in a dependance upon him, by making them believe, that the King had violated the Treaties of Munster and Nimiguen, and was a sworn Enemy of the Empire. It was not in His Majesty's Power at that time, to address himself either to them, to inform them of his good Intentions; or to the English, because they had set a Prince upon their Throne, whom His Majesty had not acknowledged as their lawful King; and whom he also considered as the very Soul of the confederacy, that had been form'd against him. It

is true, the Hollanders had a sort of dependance up|on this new King, both because he was their State|holder, and because of a strict Union between him and the chief Men of their Republick. Yet, as His Majesty was resolved to acknowledge this Prince at last for King of England, so he believed, that what Bonds soever might be betwixt him and the Dutch, they would never coldly entertain the Pro|posals, which he cesigned to make them; especially, when they should see, that by removing this one Obstacle, there would be no great difficulty to ob|tain a general Peace: And truly, Monsieur de Cal|lieres needed not to have been at great pains, to make them sensible, what were like to be the ill Consequences of the War, as well for themselves, as for the Princes of the Empire; that he might thereby perswade them, that it was their Interest to concur with His Majesty, in restoring Peace to Europe. They knew their own Interests too well, not to be sensible, that their own Safety, as well as the Safety of many other Potentates consisted in keeping France and Austria in a Ballance, or to speak more properly, in keeping them in equality to one another; seeing they serve as Counter|weights, to all the Princes of Christendom, to save them from falling under the Power, either of the one or the other. For just as in a Ballance, we see, that when one side is much heavier than the other, if a sufficient Weight be put into that other Scale, then both are equal; so has it always been, since these Two Families interfered with one a|nother. All the Princes of Europe, have acted by the same Rule, in assisting the weakest of the Two, and putting a stop to the growing Power of the o|ther. And this Maxim is observed at this time; and has put the Sword in the Hands of so many Potentates, who were formerly in His Majesty's Interests; especially the Hollanders, and the Prin|ces of the Empire, who found no Protection, either

so ready, or so safe, as his was; when they were like to have been subjected to the House of Austria.

However, the Hollanders finding by the Proposals the King made, and his Offers to deliver up so ma|ny Places, that if they could not bring these Two Houses to a just Equality, yet, they should at least make a Peace, upon such Terms, as that they need|ed not be so very much afraid of His Majesty's Power, they gave Monsieur Callieres a very favour|able Reception: yet they would not grant him a Passport, but by allowance from the Prince of Orange. And before they would enter into any Conferences with him, they would first see, if the Powers, he had brought from His Majesty, were in good form. But they could be in no better form, than they were, since they were seal|ed with the Great Seal of France. There was one thing, that much hindred this Treaty, which was, that the Hollanders would do nothing, with|out the Consent of England, and their other Allies. But this was nothing but what Monsieur Callieres expected. For before he came from France, he doubted very much, that he could perswade them to enter into a separate Treaty with the King. Yet, that had been done, at the Treaty of Ni|meguen; where his Majesty's Plenipotentiaries found a way, how to make them jealous of the Prince of Oran••e's Power; so that they made hast to make a separate Peace, which did soon oblige all the other Allies to an Accommodation with the King. But it was not fit at this time, so much as to propose what they were able then to effectuate. The Dutch became sensible of their mistake, and they would take care, not to fall in|to it again. But Callieres, who as I have said, had considered of this before, and who had Or|ders from the King, not at all to acknowledge the Prince of Orange, for King of England, till he should be assured of the Peace; found out an ex|pedient,

for reconciling the Orders he had from the King his Master, with this difficulty which the Dutch made, not to treat without the Con|sent of their Allies. It was, that they should not come to a final Conclusion in any thing, without their Approbation; but if they found reason to agree to any thing, they might communicate it to them; and that convenient measures might be taken afterwards. There was no Inconveniency in following this Advice, and the Dutch were sa|tisfied with it, and by Consent of their Allies too. They demanded, as Preliminaries of this Treaty, the Restitution of Lorrain, and of the Towns of Strasburg and Luxenbourg. Callieres consented in the Kings Name, both to the one and the other; but upon Condition, that Lorrain should be resto|red to the Duke of that Name; upon such Terms, as had been agreed to, at the Treaty of Nimeguen: The President Can••n, who took care of the Duke of Lorrain's Interests in Holland, opposed this; under Pretence, that when his Master engaged in the Confederacy, it was promised, that Peace should never be made, till he had full Satisfaction. He represented to the Confederates, that if his Dominions were not restored to him, but upon the Terms of the Treaty of Nimeguen, he should be so far from reaping any advantage by the Con|federacy, that he should be a loser by it; since he could have made a much better market, had he taken other methods, by which he might have been put in possession of his Dominions before the War; but having thought himself oblig'd to follow his Fathers example, who would not hear of these Conditions, near Twenty Years ago; it was very hard for him, now, after so many Years, to find, that no better Conditions were offered him.

But as great Potentates, who are well pleased to engage those in their interests, who are much infe|riour to them in Power, that they may be the more

successful in their designs; take not much care of their concerns, when they have no more use for them: so the Allies, after having spoke once or twice of this Affair, thought it not worth their while to insist any longer upon it: Mr. President Canon, gave in several Memoirs concerning it, and they told him, that they would take time to consider them, before any thing were concluded. And though the Empe|rours Ministers joyned with him, for obtaining full satisfaction to this Duke; yet neither the one nor the other were able to effectuate any thing. Things being thus far advanced, upon the part of the Dutch; and the English having as strong Inclinations for a Peace as they had, because of the many Prizes that were taken from them at Sea, which had brought their Trade very low; It was agreed upon all Hands, that Plenipotentiaries should be named, for bringing that to perfection, which as yet was only begun; but they had some difficulty to agree upon the Place of the Congress. The Emperour would have had it, in some Town of Germany, and the King would not hear of that proposal: But his Imperial Majesty's great desire was, to Protract time, for he was not very desirous of the Peace; because so long as the War should last, he knew that he was Master of all the Princes of the Empire, who were obliged to obey his absolute Commands; and he was afraid, that if the Peace should be con|cluded, they might come to open their Eyes, and be sensible of their true Interests; and to perceive, that in being so earnest, for the Increase of his Power, they should themselves be the Authors of his Usur|pations upon their own Liberties and Prerogatives. But there was also another thing in his View, in which he consulted his own Interest, when he de|sired, that the Treaty might be in some Town of the Empire; For since the Peace with Savoy, the King was superior in Forces to all the Confede|rates; having sent all the Troops which had serv'd

in that Country, from thence into Germany: And the Emperour was afraid, lest Mentz should be be|sieged; which would have been no difficult En|terprize, had the King thought fit to employ his Forces that way.

But if he could not obtain, that Mentz should be the Place, yet he thought at least, they would be satisfied that Frankfort should be it. And that a Neutrality should be established, for 12 or 14 Leagues round about that Town, so that Mentz should be comprehended in it. But the King being stiff in this matter, and the Dutch having propos'd the Hague, for the Place of Meeting, it was 〈…〉〈…〉 agreed to, that those, whom His Maiesty should name for his Plenipo|tentiaries, should reside at D••lf, which is ••ut One Leagues distant from it; and 〈…〉〈…〉 were to be named by the other Princes, 〈…〉〈…〉 reside at the Hague, and that the Conferences should be kept at the Castle of Rys••wick, which stands in the mid|dle, and is equally distant from these Two Places.

Though the Emperor consented to this, as well as the rest of the Confederates; yet, it was a long time before he sent his 〈…〉〈…〉 thither; which was a Proof, that he loved maner that the War should continue, than that a Peace should be conclu|ded••••s for the King, he made no de••ay to name Mon|sieur Courtin Counsellor of rate his Plenipotentiary; a Man every way capa••le of such an Employment, and who had acqui••ted himself very honourably in many Negotiations of great Importance: But he befought the King to excuse him in this, because he found his Eyes so bad, that it was to be fear'd, he should lose his sight altogether. It vexed the King to think that he m•••••• look out for ano|ther; and he was at pains to examine him, if perhaps there were some secret Reasons, which hindred him from embracing this Employment; but having at lust found, that 〈…〉〈…〉 in good ear|nest; he nam••d in his place, Monsieur de Harlay, the Chancellor's Son-in-law, who is also a Coun|sellor

of State: He gave him Monsieur do Creci for his Colleague, and honoured also Monsieur de Cal|lieres with the same Title of Plenipotentiary. There were great things talk'd of this Man's Con|duct; though I do not see, that there was need of much Art, to do all that he did; for a man has no occasion to show, how well he is qualified for Ne|gotiations of State; unless he have to struggle with great difficulties, which at last he overcomes by his prudent Conduct, and brings the whole af|fair to a happy Issue, for the Interest of the Prince that has imployed him: But this could not be said of Monsieur Callieres, who had made the Confe|derates listen to his Proposals; only by promising in the Kings Name, that he would deliver up to them, a great number of Places, which they could not have been able to retake by force of Arms, in Twenty Years time, though they had been much stronger than they were. Monsieur de Harlay, had been already employed in some secret Negotiations, but had not been successful in them; but he and Monsieur Callieres, had a third Person joyned with them, in the great Affairs they were now to be employed in; who could direct and assist them, when they met with difficulties, that were too hard for them; I mean Monsieur de Creci, who is one of the best qualified Men in France, for Affairs of this nature. He and Monsieur de Harlay took their Journey together, that they might be at the place of the Congress in due time; but they were not very well satisfied with one anothers Compa|ny; Monsieur de Harlay was d••ssatisfied, because Monsieur de Creci's Reputation eclipsed his own; and Monsieur de Creci, because Monsieur de Harlay carried it so high, as if he had undervalued him.

The Dispositions they were both in made them soon give some Proofs, that they were dissatisfied with one another; for being come to L'Isle; there was

one Le Normand, a Farmer-General, who took up|on him to Regale them; He was one of Monsieur de Creci's Friends, upon which account he detain'd them there, a whole day longer, than they inten|ded to have staid: And that they might not blame him, for making them lose so much time, he gave them Flying Coaches, to carry them Ten or Twelve Leagues farther on their Journey; but he put his Friend Monsieur de Creci into the finest Coach, with the finest Horses in it; while Monsieur de Harlay got but a sorry Coach, and Horses with such Col|lars as draught Horses use to have instead of Har|ness. This vexed Monsieur de Harlay very much, who presumed, that if there was any distinction to be made between them, it should have been to his advantage. The Farmer-General, might have per|ceived by his looks, that he did not take it well of him, and he was heard to say behind his Back, that those who from nothing came to possess good Estates, could never learn to behave themselves like Gentlemen. However, he made use of the Coach and Horses, such as they were, but gave not many thanks to him who had provided them.

These Two Plenipotentiaries had met with a number of People, betwixt Paris and L'Isle, who wished them a good Journey, and in the mean time besought them earnestly to put an end to their Miseries, by concluding a happy Peace. They were not at all surprized at this, for before they took their Journey, they knew, how much France need|ed it. And we may easily judge, how much the Treasure of the Kingdom was exhausted, when we consider what Taxes and Subsidies must have been paid to the King, to enable him to resist so many Forces, as had conspired against him. He had no less than 500000 Men under Pay, by Sea and by Lard; which no doubt will appear incredible to Posterity: It was necessary, that People of all Ranks

and Conditions within the Kingdom, should bear their Proportionable share of this Burthen; so that in imposing the Taxes, there was a necessity to do every thing, so to speak, by Weight and Measure, that no man might be oppressed, or obliged to pay more than his Proportion. And this is what the King's Ministers have done, with so much Conduct and Prudence; that though every man is sensible of his own Loss; yet it is nothing, in comparison of what it would have been, if those Affairs had been managed by Persons of less Skill and Art, than they are. However, these Plenipotentiaries saw the same thing in Flanders, that they had seen in France; that is, they saw, that the People there were no less weary of the War, than the French; They likewise besought them, with the greatest Earnestness, to use their utmost Endeavours for succeeding in the Treaty, which they were going to negotiate. At last they came to Delf, where the Houses were become so dear, since the People of that Town knew, that they were to come thi|ther, that they could scarcely be had for Mo|ney.

While these things were a doing, the Procura|tor-General, whom the King had ordered to en|quire into the matter of the Duel, that had been fought between the Bailist d' Auvergne and the Che|valier de Kailus, gave him an Account of the Discovery, he had made in it: But it was not at all to their advantage: He reported, that ac|cording to the Affidav••t's that were made before him it was far from having been an accidental Rencounter, as their Parents had alledged; that never Duel was more clearly proved, and therefore he desired to know, what Orders His Majesty would give about it. His Majesty ordered, that they should be Arraigned, Indited and Tried as Crimi|nals; so that the same Officer, having caused it to be published, through the City by sound of Trum|pet;

as is usual upon such Occasions, the Parliament met, and outlawed them. By His Majesty's Edict against Duels, they ought to have been hang'd in Effigie. But the K••ng consented private|ly to remit something of that Rigour, because of the Kindness he had for their Parents; and they were only condemned to lose their Heads, which was accordingly executed at the Greve, where their Pictures were put up, but were not suffered to be long there: For there were some People took them away about an hour after, that is, in the Twilight of the Evening. These sorts of things, are very or|dinary in France; insomuch, that it's commonly said, that there is not one Great Family in the whole Kingdom, but what the like has happen'd to; and what has had Ladies and Daughters of naughty Lives. And therefore, the Parents of these Two unhappy young Gentlemen, were not much afflicted with the Loss of their Sons; nor were less in favour at Court, than they had been before▪ The Cardinal de Douillon, who is the Bailiff d' Au|vergne's Uncle, made a Jest of what his Nephew had dore; and of what had befallen him. In which his Eminence was not like many other people, who had rather be e••gaged in the most difficult Affair in the World, than ••e accountable for a Duel. And it's certain, that the M••ssicurs de la Frette, could never extricate themselves out of those Troubles, which they brought upon themselves, 34 or 35 Years ago; by quarrelling with the Prince de Cha|lais, as they were coming out of the Palais Royal. They ••••••ght 〈◊〉〈◊〉 against ••our, but though all of them, or at least the greater part of them, were of the first Fa••••lies of the Kingdom; nay, though the P••pe himself interceeded for a Remission to them, yet the King would never grant them one, so that some of them died, making their escape to one part, others to another, and of all those that were engaged in that Duel, I know none alive,

but the elder La Frette, and the Marquis de Flam|marin. It is true, the Marquis d' Autin, the eldest Brother of Monsieur de Mont••••pan, lost his Life in this Quarrel, having been wounded in the Vena cava, so that he died upon the spot. I•• the Count d' Au|vergne was afflicted for the loss of his Eldest Son, he was in some measure comforted, by what the Monks of Cluni did for one of his younger Sons, when he was not thinking of it. The Cardinal de Janson, the King's Ambassador at Rome, had de|sired, that his Majesty might be pleased to recal him, and the Cardinal de Bouillon, had got a Com|mission to succeed him; and he being Abbot of Clu|ni he visited that Abbey, as he was going to Rome. He is always very obliging, and engages all that know him to wish him well. So soon as he told these Monks, that he was going to Rome, and that perhaps, he might never see them any more, they replied, that they should be very sorry, if that should happen, but if it should be the good will of God so to order it, they would at least before they took leave of him, give a Testimony of the deep Sense they had of that Kindness and Concern, which his Eminence had always shown for them: They told him no more of it that day, but on the Morrow, they ordered that a Bell should be toll'd for a meeting of the Chapter, and then they chose Monsieur d' Auvergne, who is the Cardinal's Nephew, for his Coadjutor. They brought this good News to his Eminence, who knew not the cause of their meeting, and they told him at the same time, that since he was going to Rome, and that it belonged to the Pope to confirm their Election, they did not doubt, but he should obtain that favour of his Ho|liness, when ever he thought fit to ask it; and they took leave of him, with this Compliment, for which his Eminence thanked them very heartily. For this is one of the most genteel and most honourable Abbies in France, though it be none of richest. Yet

it has Seven or Eight Thousand Livres of Revenue. But that, for which it is most to be valued, is, that it has Benefices, at it's Gift, to the value of near a Million of Revenue; so that the Abbot of this Place, has many opportunities, to make new Creatures to himself, and to reward those whom he has already.

The Cardinal de Bouillon would fain have carried along with him Monsieur de Coulanges, who is a pleasant sort of a man, and what he says, is ve|ry diverting; he drinks, composes, and sings; and he has good Skill in Sauces and Ragoo's; and in a word, he knows how to spend his time agree|ably, which makes many People desire his Com|pany: He had once stay'd with his Eminence, in his Abbey of Pontoise, where he had always Peo|ple of his own choice, at his Table. He had for|merly travelled to Rome, with Monsieur de Chaulnes▪ and he was as well known there to the Cardinals, as was the Ambassador himself. But he refused Cardinal Bouillon, what he had granted the other; and excused himself, under pretence of some Affairs: Whether, what he pretended, was true, or not, I cannot tell. The Instruction of greatest Impor|tance, which his Eminence carried to Rome, was concerning the Affairs of Poland; where the que|stion was, who should be chosen King of that King|dom: Because John Sobieshi who had possessed that Throne since the Year 1674, died in 1697: He had left many Children by his Queen, whom he had married before he was promoted to the Royal Dig|nity; her Maiden-Name was Francoise de Nation, Daughter of the Marquis d' Arquyen, of whose Family there was once a Mareshal of France, under the Name of Montigny. Her Birth should have united her closely to the French Interests. But Women resent the Affronts or the Refusals they meet with, more highly than others do. She had become an Enemy to the King long ago; because

he would not grant her the favour she desired of him, which was, to make her Father Duke and Peer of France; ever since which time, she has done all was in her power against France, and has not kept those measures, that Prudence and Civility obliged her to; insomuch, that she caused some Inso|lencies to be done to the Marquis de Vitrich the King's Ambassador. The King her Husband, who tho' he was a man not only of as great Valour, as any in the World, but of great experience in War, of which he gave sufficient Proof, at his raising the Siege of Vienna, when the Infidels besieged it, Ann, 1683. yet he was not a man of so much Prudence, in other Actions of his Life. For while he was upon the Throne, he behaved himself rather like a private man, than a Soveraign; his chief care was to hoard up Money, without taking any pains to make Creatures and Friends to himself, and his Children. He never considered, how ne|cessary these were, for placing one of his Posterity upon the Throne, after his Death; or if he did consider this, he has thought, that they could al|ways make themselves Friends, by the Treasures which he should leave them. And therefore, he sold all the Palatinates that came to be void; as well as every other thing, with which the for|mer Kings of Poland used to gratifie the Nobi|lity and Gentry of that Kingdom. These Practices, had alienated the hearts of his Subjects from him, as well those who had bought those Places, as those who expected to have had them in Gift, and with|out Money: So that, his Children were far from having any ground to hope, that they should have the same good fortune that Three several Families, who possessed this Crown successively had formerly had; I mean the Families of Mamcllus, Jagellon and Pala|tin, whose Children, so long as they had any, succeeded to the Throne; so that it did not pass into any other Family, than their own.

However, the King having advice of all this, thought to place a Prince of his own Blood, upon that Throne, who was a Subject, and such a one too, as the Polanders must always have to be their King. For they are a People that soon despite their Prince, unless he be a brave Man, and capable to lead their Armies himself in Person, without which qualifica|tion, he has buy a melancholy Life among them.

The last of the Palatins who enjoyed that Crown, was an Instance of this: And it's known, that this peo|ple, obliged him to apdicate, so soon as they per|ceived that his Conduct did not answer to that of his Ancestors. The Prince whom the King pro|posed, was Francis Lewis de Bourbon Prince of Con|ti; who in this War, which his Majesty had main|tained against the greater part of Europe, has gi|ven such extraordinary Proofs of his Valour and Con|duct; that all the Army said openly, that the very Spirit and Soul of the late Prince of Conde his Un|cle, who was one of the greatest Captains that ever France had, was return'd to this World, and had taken possession of the Prince of Conti's Body, that he might save his King and his Country from the Confederacy that was formed against them. I know that this way of expressing themselves, was altogether extraordinary and new; but as it was impossible for them to express more emphatically, the just E••cem they had for that Prince, as a sin|gularly brave Man; so this way of speaking, passed so currant, and was so often repeated, that his Re|putation for true Courage, is established in forreign Countries, as well as in France. Though this Prince is not rich, yet he sent 200000 Crowns of his own Money into Poland, to gain the Suffrages of those who had already Inclinations for him, on|ly upon the Account of his great Fame. For, as this is the only time of Harvest with the great men of Poland, so a Prince needs never pretend to their

Crown, unless he will sow before hand, that they may reap the Fruits of it. The more that this Prince had of true merit, the more was Sobieski's Widow-Queen, enraged against the King. She entertain'd hopes to have her eldest Son Prince James, chosen to succeed his Father; and for this very end, she had married him to a Sister of the Empress's, and of the Queen of Spain's, that he might have the Emperors Assistance. But all the Assistance in the World, being of no use in that Country, unless it be supported with liberal Donatives, and she being narrow and penurious that way, as her Husband was. The Prince of Conti, would have soon car|ried it against Prince James, had there been no o|ther Competitors for it.

The Queen of Poland finding, that she could hard|ly succeed in her designs for her eldest Son, en|deavoured to perswade Monsieur l' Abbee de Polig|nac, the French Ambassadour, to alter his mea|sures, by offering, that if he would recommend the Duke de Vendome to be chosen King, instead of the Prince of Conti, she would unite her friends with his, upon condition, that the Duke, should marry her so soon as he was chosen. At the same time, she sent two of her Sons to Paris, under pretence of travelling, but her true designs was, that they might be Spies at the French Court; and might see, if the King was in such a Condition to support the Prince of Conti's pretensions, as the Abbee de Polignac pretended. For it was repor|ted in Poland, and almost in all foreign Countries, that France was drained both of Men and Money, and that it was so far from being able for such an undertaking, that it was upon the brink of ruin, unless a peace was speedily con|cluded. The Abbee de Polignac gave the King an account of the Queen of Polands Proposals, but at the same time advised him not to trust her. And assur'd him, that she would rather make her

faction joyn with that of the House of Austria, than with the Prince of Conti's. For she had so far forgotten, that she was a born Subject of France, that she thought of nothing so much, as how to embarass all his Majesty's Projects and Designs; In the mean time, the two Princes, Alexander and Constantine, younger Brothers of Prince James, came into France And that they might make the French Court entertain a better Opinion of their Mother, than i•• did from the Account that the Abbee de Polignac had given of her, they brought along with them, near three Millions of Gold, and put Eight hundred thou|sand Crowns of it into the Town-House i. e. the Bank of Paris. The Queen of Poland designed by this, to let the world see she had not renoun|ced France, as the Abbee de Polignac had insinu|ated: And that she was resolved to settle her two Sons in that Kingdom, in case they could not 〈…〉〈…〉 with Honour. But besides, that this 〈…〉〈…〉 seemed for her interest, she made also 〈…〉〈…〉 strantage by that Gold which she had sent 〈…〉〈…〉 for as to its fineneis, it was much below the standard of the French Coyn, yet it was ta|ken into the Mint as if it had been the finest Gold in the world, for the King stood so much in need of Money, that he was content to take it as it was. When these two Princes were come to Paris, and to the Court, they were soon convinced by the Luxury they saw in both these Places, that the reports which had been industriously spread in Poland, were altogether false. They betook themselves to those diversions that Prin|ces of their Age do usually entertain themselves with: They went to all the Balls that they heard of, and there was one thing besel them that de|serves we should give an Account of it.

Being at one of these Balls, with Five or Six Gentlemen of their Retinue, who were Masked as

well as themselves, there was there one of the Mousquetaires of the Kings Houshold, who had put on the habit of a Counsellor, and was therewith Disguised. He chanced to meet with the young Princes, whom he did not know, and told them very Gravely, that it was to no purpose, that they should put themselves to so much trouble in a business wherein they could not succeed and therefore as their Counsel he would seriously ad|vise them, to agree with their adversary, other|ways, they would be cast in their suit. The two Princes had received letters from Poland, the day before, wherein they had the bad News, that the Queen their Mother despaired of succeeding in her designs; and this News had spread through the Town, so that they never reflected, that this dis|course was said Innocently and without any other design, but that it might suit with the Garb he had then put on; They Imagined on the other hand, that he had spoken with relation to the news they had received, and they were so enra|ged against him, that they thought it not enough, to call him Villain and Rogue, and that he was but an insolent Rascal, to behave, himself with so little respect to them, but they also Bastinad'd him Soundly. The poor Counsellor, finding that he had but a bad cause to plead for himself, began to cry out, What do this to me, a Mousquetaire, to me? as those of the Company of Mousquetaires use to do, when they find, that they have to deal with too strong a party. But the Princes of Poland pulling off their Masks, that it might be known who they were, there was not so much as one Person that would come to the assistance of the poor bastinado'd Mousquetaire. He marched off with the blows he had received, and resolved to complain to the King, from whom he expected more Justice; No doubt he had rea|son to demand it, and would certainly have ob|tained it, if he had had to do with those of hit own

Rank. But the Princes were before-hand with him in complaining to his Majesty. And he had the hard fortune to be sent to prison, so soon as he offered to speak of it. By this treatment, and by what he had before met with, he became sen|sible, that it was not for his Interest, to take up a Trade that he had no skill in; and therefore he resolved never to profess it any more, or if he did, he would never give counsel but to those who as|ked it of him. The one of these Princes was much handsomer than the other. And the King was resolved to give them the blew Ribban, i. e. to make them Knights of the Holy Ghost; This was to do good for evil. For the Queen their Mother, never failed to do all that was in her Power, to traverse his Majesty's Designs. When they gave her Advice of this, she sent an Express to them, and told them, that she was surprized to find, that they had so much as listened to such a Proposal; since they could not but know, that if they accepted of it, they should thereby act direct|ly contrary to the Interests of their Family; that they knew how a•• she was engaged in the Interest of the House of Austria; and that they must follow her Example, in adhering closely to that House. By this it is manifest, that she had altogether forgot|ten her Native Country, ever since she was put to it, to keep up the Splendour of her Childrens Family, by endeavouring to raise her Eldest Son to Royal Dignity. These Princes having received these Orders from their Mother, gave the King thanks for the Honour he had offered to do them, but excused themselves for not accepting of it: They frequented the Balls as formerly, tho' they were sometimes engaged in other Business; as par|ticularly with the Marquis de Coaquin, a Person of Quality in Brittany, who had but a little before, married one of the Marshal de Noaille's Daugh|ters.

This was no ill Match for him, especially, see|ing the Mareshal was so much in favour. The King had given him the Command of his Army in Ca|talonia, though he was not a Man of so much Ex|perience as many others; for except, that he had commanded some Troops, in the time of Peace; be|cause he was first Captain of the Life-guards, all the Preferment he had come to, was to be Aide de Camp to His Majesty. But the King added yet another Honour to this, and made him Mareshal of France, in the Year 1693. though no body could see, that he had done any great things to de|serve such a Preferment. However, whether it be that His Majesty knows Peoples Merits better than others do; or if Fortune, which has favoured him in all his Undertakings, designed to approve of his Choice; this Mareshal gained very soon a conside|rable Battle: He had formerly taken the Towns of Roses and Gironne; and then it was said of him, that though he had not done any thing to deserve the Mareshal's Staff, when he first received it; yet he had afterwards made it appear, that he was worthy of it. His Father who was one of Cardinal Mazarin's Creatures, had been also a Captain of the Life-guards; and it was his Fortune to be rai|sed to that Post when he was least expecting it. It was in the King's Minority, and the Occasion of it was this: The Queen Mother had become jealous of the Count de Termes; who was provi|ded of the same Charge, so that he was forced to remove from the King's Person, at a time when it was his Turn to have waited upon him. When he was dismissed, she ordered that another Cap|tain of the Guards should take his Batton; but they had all promised to one another, to do nothing to the Prejudice of their Fellow-Officer; for which the Count de Charost was banished; and Monsieur de Chandenier, was yet more unfortunate; for the Queen took his Commission from him, and gave

it to the Marshal de Nouailles's Father, so that he was never able to recover it, though he lived a long time after. It was not for want of Time, that he could not succeed; nor was it for want of Conjunctures, that seemed favourable enough for him, for he was of the same Family, that Ma|dam de Morte••pan was of: And since he was not more guilty than the Count de Charost, who was soon recalled from his Banishment, and made Duke and Peer of France; it may be said, that there is nothing in this World, but good or bad Fortune: For this Man was so far from being in a worse condition because of his Disobedience; that he rai|sed his Fortune to such a degree, that he could not desire to raise it higher; while the unfortu|nate Marquis de Chandinier, was quite undone with his Fall.

Tho' it be to the only late Duke de Nouailles, that his Family owes the present Greatness, to which it has arrived; yet it must be confessed, that it is an ancient and honourable Family. I know that the present Madame de Bouillon, when she was striving for the Door with the Dutchess de Nou|ailles, spoke of her and her Family with so much Disdain, that if her Word could have been taken for it, the Family of Nouailles should have been thought a very despicable one: I know also, that she produced some old Papers, by which it was found, that one Anthony de Nouailles, had been Steward of the House, to the Viscount de Turenne; but as Stewards of the House at that time, were usually Gentlemen, and as there are younger Brothers of good Families, who are forced to condescend to meaner things than he did; so that One Instance, ought not to give us any mean Opinion of that Family, which is certainly very noble and very ancient. And it cannot to be said, that the Mar|quis de Coaquin match'd below his Quality; when he married a Daughter of it, though it be true,

that his Family has sometimes made greater Al|liances: For not to go far back, his Mother was Rohan Chabot, and his Grandmother Orleans Lon|gueville. He had a great Estate in Brittany, which his Mother resigned in his favour, as she did al|most every thing she could claim by her Marriage-Contract, and for her Dowry. For this is a La|dy of extraordinary Virtue, and so soon as she had put her Affairs in order, she resolved to re|tire into a Convent, and reserved nothing to her|self, but 10000 Livres per Ann. which was by ve|ry much less than what she had a Right to, if she had exacted so much as she might have done. Her Son was but 18 Years old, when he married Mada|moiselle de Nouailles, but he was as tall a Man as he could expect to be at 25; and his Mother im|portuned him to take a Wife, because he was the only Child his Father had left. This Lady had not been very happy in her Marriage, though she was of an agreeable Complexion, and of a very good Air, yet she had not so much Beauty as to please her Husband; and since she knew by her own Expe|rience, what Disgusts Husbands use to take at their Wives, when they are not altogether agreeable; she ought at least to have chosen an handsome La|dy for her Son, that he might not fall into the same Immoralities, that her Husband had done. But this was what she had thought least of, and she had soon reason to repent of it. For upon the Morrow after the Marriage, when some of her Sons Friends came to pay him their Compliments, upon that Occasion; he could not forbear telling them, that they needed not give themselves that trouble; that his Mother had chosen a Dwarf for him, instead of a Wife: That it seem'd she who was a devout Lady, had made this Choice, be|cause the Duke de Nouailles was devout also. But for his part, he wish'd his Wife more so than either of them; that he might not be troubled with ly|ing

with her: And that he was resolved henceforth to treat her as a Relique; that is, that he should never come near her, but upon Holy Days. From that day he gave such Proofs of his want of Affection to her, that all the Family took notice of it: They all consulted, what was fit to be done in such a Case; that Monsieur de Coaquin, might not engage himself in those lewd Cour••es, that Hus|bands use to betake themselves to, when they come to despise their Wives. The Archbishop of Paris, who is the Mareshal's Brother, was called among the first, to give Advice in this matter: And they all agreed, that because the new mar|ried Lady was pale as Death, which made her the more disagreeable to her Husband, it was there|fore necessary to find out some Expedient, to give her a better Colour, they had recourse to Painting, which is highly esteem'd among the Ladies, who by daubing their Faces with white and red, make themselves look to be of as fine Complexions as they plea••e. But many of the more scrupulous sort of People, were surprised, when they heard, that so good a Man as this Prelate, and so de|vout a Lady as the Dowager of Nouailles, had advised such a thing as that. But though the Archbishop of Paris, and the Dutchess de Nouailles, did not only cause this Lady's Face to be painted with white and red, but also caused Shooes to be made for her, with Heels that were a Quarter of an Ell high, that she might thereby appear so much the 〈◊〉〈◊〉; yet she was as unlovely in the Eyes of her Husband, as she had been before; nay, he thought her the more ugly, upon this very account; insomuch that instead of conversing with her, he entreated his Friends, who spoke to him sometimes of her and of his Father in Law, that if they would oblige him, they would not so much as speak either ill or good of them. In the mean time, he endeavoured to comfort himself, as well

as he could with good cheer, and in the Com|pany of some Ladies, whom he visited, not upon the account of any familiar converse, but that he delighted to vex them, and they were never more out of humour, than when they saw him come into their Company, so that they would gladly have gone out at the Window, to shun any converse with him, if they could have done it.

The Mareshal de Nouailles who has had more than twenty Children by his Lady, though she be not to this time much above forty years, had as yet another daughter to marry, there was a great difference between her and Madam de Coaquin. The one was as agreeable, as the other was deformed; which made one say to the Marquis de Coaquin, that the Mareshal had given him Leah, but had kept Rachel. There was abundance of young Gentlemen who were Suitors to this new Rachel, both because her Father was much in favour at Court; and because she herself was so great a Beauty: The Count d' Estrees (who came to be happier than the rest; for it was he that married her;) was of the number of those who made their Addresses to her. His Ambition carried him to this, as much as any thing else. He considered, that though he was of a Family, which is in the Possession of more Honours, in the Person of his Father and his two Uncles, than any other Family is, yet that was no|thing to him, unless he could attain to the like Ho|nours: For tho' his Fathers elder Brother was Duke and Peer of France, and that his Son had succeeded to him in the same Honours, and though his Fa|ther was Mareshal of France, and his Uncle a Car|dinal, yet he himself had no Place or Rank at Court, and was only considered there, as a Person of Qua|lity, as Ten Thousand others are. So that he saw nothing that could satisfie his Ambition, unless he went aboard of the Fleet, where he would be obliged to signalize himself, because he had the Sur|vivance

of the Office of Vice-Admiral, which his Father was in Possession of: His Uncle the Car|dinal, who had a greater Kindness for him, that for the Duke d' Estrees, though he was his Nephew as well as he, and by his elder Brother too, ad+vised him to this Marriage; and he used his ut+most Endeavours to bring it about, as the only means whereby he might be made a Duke, as his Cousin was. And he was so earnest in this Affair that he sent Word to the Duke de Nouailles, tha•• if he could presume so much upon his favour, a•• to employ him to procure a Dukes Patent to his Nephew, he should marry his Daughter without one Farthing of Portion: And he promised also to make him his Heir, and to make the Inheritance as good as he could. The Duke de Nouailles, who had not much Money to give with his Daughter and who had given no great Portion with Madame de Ceaquin, though he had made a shew of con+tracting for 〈…〉〈…〉 Franks, but it was in Cats are Rats, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈…〉〈…〉 that is, he had given him a Regiment, and some other lesser Preserments; the Duke I say, was not so rich, but that he had 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and sparing of his Money; and he was well 〈…〉〈…〉 with the Proposal, but he was 〈…〉〈…〉 to be ••ond of it. And 〈…〉〈…〉 to him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the 〈…〉〈…〉, had better 〈…〉〈…〉 to that Honour, upon the a•• 〈…〉〈…〉 Fathers great Services 〈…〉〈…〉 had with the King; but 〈…〉〈…〉 to marry his Daugh+ter, 〈…〉〈…〉 he had to 〈…〉〈…〉 was true, he had more 〈…〉〈…〉 others, to carry on such 〈…〉〈…〉 he was Captain of the 〈…〉〈…〉 him an easie Access to the King's Person; but that was not enough for a matter o•• so great Importance, and therefore he ought no

to trust to it so much, but that besides marrying his Daughter, he should take all the same measures he would do, if he were to marry another: But it was very difficult for the Count d' Estrees, to take those measures; because the Mareshal would not give him so much Money, as was necessary to put his Affairs in a good Condition. For want of this, they resolved upon all hands to deal with one Madame de Thoist, a rich Lady; she was the Widow of a Maîere de Comptes, and she had lent a considerable Sum to the Cardinal d' Estrees, and was not payed of it: And besides, she was a Friend of the Duke and Dutchess de Nouailles; and be|cause she had no Children, they told her so often, that she ought to adopt Madamoiselle de Nouailles, for her Daughter, that though they could not pre|vail with her to leave her all her Estate, yet they perswaded her to do something for her. And she offered at last, to give her what the Cardinal d' E|strees owed her. But becau••e they would have more, the matter is put off to this time; for she will not give away all her Estate in her own Life-time; yet she promises, that besides the Sum which the Cardinal owes her, which she is willing to part with presently, she shall also consider this young Lady in her Will; so that she shall be sure of something more at her Death. That which sell out between the Princes of Poland and the Marquis de Coaquin, was not at all for his Advantage; if we may be|lieve what is commonly reported. In the mean time, they took their Journey to return into their own Country; after they had been magnificently regaled, by many Persons that belonged to the Court. Monsieur de Langlee, who is none of the least considerable of them, if we consider nothing but his expensive way of living, was the first who gave them a splendid Entertainment; and acquit|ted himself very handsomly in it. He is now in possession of being the first who regales Strangers of

great Quality upon their arrival: Which made the King say, some time ago, i e. before the arri|val of the two Princes, that Monsieur Langlee see|med to be made for no other end, but to entertain all the strangers that came to Court. But he en|tertains Persons of Quality, who are of the French Nation, as Magnificently, as he does strangers. There is not a Man about the Court that regales our Princes and Princesses so often, as he does, and he has got into a Custom, of providing a Collation for the Dauphin, as often as he comes to the Opera. It is but of late that he was in a condition to ac|quit himself well in such an undertaking, for though his Father who was once but a poor man, and of mean extract, made up some small estate to him, yet it was far from being sufficient for such costly Entertainments. He has raised his Estate by gaming; which has put him in a condition to build so many fine Houses, and by which, he has so great yearly Revenues. And considering the first years of his gaming, and now that he is become rich, it may be said of him, what was once said to the President Belli|evre by one that designed to flatter him. I confess that the beginning of this Discourse would be insipid, but that it is agreeable to the first beginnings of his fortune, and that the last part of it would be im|pertinent, but that it suits with his present Cir|cumstances.

This President, who was the chief Man in the Parliament of Paris, had always some Debate with Cardinal Mazarin, whom he did not much E|steem, and it may be, the Cardinal had as little E|steem for him, and perhaps he was in the right too. However, the Man I just now spoke of, knowing, what Opinion this Chief President had of his Emi|nence; said to him once, whilst they were spea|king of him, that no great Account was to be made of such Men, whose fortunes were volatile, and what show soever they made, yet they were

but like glaring meteors, which disappear'd in a short time. But on the other hand, he said that the Presidents fortune was built upon a rock, and that he must be a Man of very little sense, who did not see a great difference, between the one and the other. We may easily perceive, that the Man who spoke so, was best acquainted with old customs, since he magnified a chief President so much, and undervalued a chief Minister. And at most it is only during a Kings minority, that this way of reasoning will hold good. But now a days, he should be accounted a Mad-man, or one that had returned from the other world, that would speak at such a rate. In a word, if Monsieur de Langlees fortune, might have been compared to a Meteor, while his high spending was ••ounded only upon what he gained at game, yet he has now settled it upon so many fair Buildings, in Paris and in the Country, that we may say, what the Man said to the President, that he had now foun|ded it upon a Rock. Madame la Marquise de Be|thunes, who is the Queen of Polands Sister, gave also a Magnificent Entertainment to the two Princes her Nephews. There were many Persons of Quality, of both Sexes, at this feast, and it en|ded with a splendid Ball. Yet this Marchioness is not at all rich, nay she's very poor to be sister of a Queen; yet it was her own fault, that she had not a better estate. For when her husband was Ambassadour in Poland, the Queen her Sister was resolved to make her rich; But she became jea|lous, that the Queen was in love with her husband, and that it was for his sake, that she made so kind Offers. Her jealousie made her commit a thou|sand follies, which so displeased that Court, that her Husband dying there, all that she brought to France from that Country, was a gift of a hundred thousand Crowns, which the Late King of Poland gave her, upon the Estate of the Late Duke de Longueville.

This Monarch had lent this Money, while he

was but great Mareshal of Poland, and when the Duke de Longueville was aspiring to that Crown. But his Sister the Dutchess de Nemours refused to pay it, as well as all the other sums, which he had borrowed at that time, that he might attain to Royal dignity. She pretended, that her brother was under age, when he borrowed these sums, and therefore, she was not obliged to pay them. This gave occasion to a Law suit, before the Coun|cil, and it appeared intricate and doubtful. For the Law forbids to lend Money to Minors; unless it be manifestly for their advantage, and therefore. So|biesky ought to lose his Money; because the Duke was not of age when he borrowed it. But the Marchioness de Bethunes, as well as the Dukes other Creditors, answered to this, that what might be considered in the case of ordinary Loans, ought not to be considered in such an extraordinary case as this was, when the borrower of the Money, designed to employ it for obtaining a Crown; and that this had been always the Opinion of the Prince of Condee, who while he was alive, was still desi|rous that Monsieur l' Abbee d' Orleans, who was Brother and heir to the deceased Duke de Lon|gueville, should pay punctually the full interest, of all the Money that had been Borrowed upon that Account That it was he, who took care of all the Affairs of the Family of Longueville, because L' Abbe d' Orleans, who was the Duke's elder Brother was but a weak Man, and unfit for Business. That, their Sister the Dutchess de Nemours dared not to have spoken any thing against the payment of those debts, so long as her Brother was alive. But now that he was dead, and that the Prince of Condee, who had always supported the Claim of the Creditors, was dead also; she who loved Cavils and litigious de|bates, had brought them to the Trouble and Ex|pence of a Law Suit. It was first debated before the Parliament of Paris, but at last it was brought before

the Kings Council. Either because the affair was of importance, or that it ought in course of Law to have been carried thither. And it was truly the Kings Interest to take cognisance of it himself, es|pecially at such a Juncture as that was, for it was his concern to gain the Polanders to the Prince of Conti's Interest, and not to give them cause to com|plain, that they were cheated by the Duke de Lon|gueville, who had borrowed Money of Sobiesky, and of several other Persons of Quality among them. Therefore the King Ordered the Marquis de Bar|besieux to consider the case, and to report it fully in his Presence. For the Secretaries of his Majesty's Commands, of which this Marquis is one, are also Counsellors of state, and have the same Com|missions, so that the King may Charge them with all sorts of business, as he can do any of the rest of that number. But after some days, his Majesty considered, that so young a man as the Marquis de Barbesieux, was scarcely capable of an affair of such importance; and that an old and experienced Coun|sellor of state, would be much fitter for it. He therefore took it out of the Marquis's hands, and Committed it to Monsieur de Ribere. But Madame de Nemours's Council had found so many shifts, that this has been put off from time to time, and is not as yet determined. Yet it is believed that she will be cast in it, as she was in another Law-••uit, which she had against the Prince of Conti, before the Requetes du Palais. This case was of yet grea|ter importance than the former; and there were some Circumstances in it, that were very conside|rable, and therefore I shall give a full Account of it.

Monsieur l' Abbe d' Orleans, whom I just now mentioned, having renounced his right of Primo|geniture, in favour of the Comte de St. Paul his younger Brother, who thereafter took the Title of

Duke de Longueville, he was in a short time restored to all his rights, by the Death of that Prince, who like a fool, was the Occasion of his own Death, as he was passing the Rhine. Monsieur l Abbee was wil|ling to have made over the whole Estate to his Uncle the Prince of Condee; but this Prince, who enjoy|ed eighteen hundred thousand Livres of yearly revenue, thought, that he had already more than was sufficient to make him happy, if Riches alone can make us so; and therefore he advised him to give it to his Mother, Madame de Longueville, who had more need of it than he. The Abbee was a man that did every thing he was advised to, especially if the Advice came from a Person of Authority, like the Prince de Condee: so that he agreed, that those who managed his affairs, should draw up his will, and that he should sign it. It was done as the Prince of Condee was pleased to order it, and the Abbee altered not so much as one word in it. By this will he gave over the Principality of Neufchatel in Suitzerland with some other possessions, to his Mother the Dutchess de Longueville during her Life. But af|ter her Death the Prince of Condee had Right to them by the same will, if no new will should be made. But he who had already refused them, was resolved not to make any advantage of the Abbees will for the future, and therefore, he caused his right to be made over to the Prince of Conti, after the Death of the Dutchess. The Prince of Conti, had need of a good Estate, for his Fathers Marriage was disad|vantageous for his Fortune, as well as for his Honour. He had resigned the Abbacy of St. Denis, with many other good benefices, for the sake of a Niece of Cardi|nal Mazarins, who was truely a Virtuous Lady, but her Uncle gave her nothing in Marriage, though he had so pillaged France, that he might have given her a great Estate, without pinching himself in the least. Yet he had promised him Mountains of Gold, as he always used to do, when he had a design to co|zen

any body, but having dealt by her and her Hus|band as he usually did by all those, with whom he had any business, though he might at least have put some difference between him and others, both upon the Account of his Quality, and because his Niece was Married to him. This Prince died very poor for a Person of his Rank. However The Dutchess de Nemours being informed of the Will, which her Brother had made, importuned him so, as that she prevailed with him after the Prince of Condees Death, to make it void; and to make another will, by which he left the whole Inheritance to her. Now this Abbee dying soon after, and the Prince of Conti pretending, that the will which had been made in his favour, ought to prevail against this Last will, the Requetes du Palais were the proper Judges, in the first point of the controversie. The Reasons of his plea, were, that Monsieur l' Abbee d' Orleans was non Compos when he made the Last will, so that it ought to be considered as if such a thing had never been done. If Madame de Nemours had been well advised, she would have said the same of him when he made his first will, and she would have had no difficulty in proving it; so that the first being no better than the second, she should have succeeded by law, to the whole Estate; without any sentence in her favour, because she was his sister. But her Council it seems was as Visionary, as those who live beyond the Alps, who plead for the Popes Infallibility. They maintain'd, that the Testator was sound in his Judgment, when he made the se|cond will, whereby the first was made void. And they had no other way to prove this, but by the Popes Infallibility, who had put him into Priests orders, at the very time, that he made this second will. And they alledged, that it could not be suppo|sed, that the Pope would have ordained him Priest, if he had not been in his right wits. And they thought this so good a Reason, that they could not conceive,

how it could have been answered. So that they neglected all other reasons, and adhered only to this one, to support their Cause. The Prince of Conti desired, he might be allowed to prove, that the Ab|bee was nonCompos when he made his last Will, which he offered to do by Evidences that could not be excepted against. He was allowed to prove it, and he pro|duced his Evidences, upon whose Deposition the whole Cause depended. The Question was, if Mon|sieur l' Abbee d'Orleans was sound in his Judgment, when he made his second Will. But there was no great diffi••ulty to resolve this Question, for there were Evidences that told things of him, that could not have been said of any Man, but one that was fit for a Bedlam. And among other things they de|posed, that when he was going to say Mass, the first time after he was ordained Priest; he stopped when he came near to the Rails, which usually separates the Sanctuary and the Altar from the Neve of the Church, and there he tried if he could jump over the Rails, with his Feet close together. They de|posed al••••, ••hat when he found he was not able to do it, he came back about 20 Pac••••, that he might give himself more Force by running; and in this mann•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 the Holy Sacri|fice unto God Almighty; a••d 〈…〉〈…〉 g••ve a Thou|sand other Proofs of his being a Fool, an Account of which wou'd be too tedious. Madam de Nemour's Council were aston shed, when they heard the Evi|dences depose such things as these, and they wished then, that they had not relied so much upon the Popes Infallibility, and that they had taken better mea|sures, but it was now too late. The Judges pro|ceeded to pronounce a Sentence, by which that Prince, the Abbee, was declared to have been non compos, when he made his second Will.

Although the City of Paris, and all the Court were overjoyed, when they heard that the Prince of Conti, whom they lov'd so dearly had gain'd his

Cause; yet Madame de Nemours appealed to the Grand Chambre, where she is still prosecuting it; but no body doubts, but that the Sentence which was pronounced, will be confirmed by a Decree. Some time before this Sentence was pronounced, Madame de Nemours acted her part very dexte|rously, and like a Lady of good Conduct: She knew, that she had a strong Party to deal with, in her Law-suit; and therefore, as her Brother's Heiress, she had given the Principality of Neufchatel to the Chevalier de Soissons, a Bastard Son of the late Count de Soissons, who was a Prince of the Blood, and her Uncle: For she was the Daughter of one of his Si|sters; who was married to the Duke de Longueville her Father, and after whose Death, he married the Prince of Condee's Sister. Now, when she gave this Principality to this Chevalier, she had obliged him to marry the Marshal de Luxenbourg's Daughter; hoping that the need the Kingdom had of the Services of so great a Captain, in so formidable a War, as it had to maintain against so many Enemies, would give her an Interest with the King, sufficient to balance the Prince of Conti's. But this Marshal died to his Daughter's great Loss, before that the Sen|tence which I have given an account of, was pro|nounced; So that the Hopes vanished, which Ma|dame de Nemours had comforted herself with, when she contrived that Marriage. Though it must be confessed, she took very good measures to bring about her Designs. But there was something in it, that was still worse for the Chevalier de Soissons; for he had resigned a good Abbacy that he might marry a Lady, who was neither rich nor handsome, and he had also taken the Title of Prince of Neuf|••hatel, when he was upon the point of losing the Principality.

Though the gaining of this Cause, was for the Prince of Conti's Advantage, yet it was nothing in comparison of the Crown of Poland; which per|haps

the King had obliged him to think of, more than he would have done, had he followed his own Inclinations: For he was become passionately in love with a Lady of great Quality; Insomuch, that tho' a Crown be so considerable, as that it deserves to be preferred to all other things; yet he seem'd not to to be too much concerned with it, lest he should have been obliged to quit his Mistress. But it was quite otherwise with Madame the Princess of Conti; the thing in the World she wished most was, that her Husband might be a King: Ambition, which is natural to Persons of her Rank and Quality, made her passionately desirous of this; but besides, she hoped, that the Crown of Poland would take off her Husband, from the Affection he had for the o|ther Lady; which yet she durst not complain of, for fear of displeasing him, and for some other Rea|sons that must not be published. However, this Design for the Crown of Poland, met with great Opposition, and as the House of Austria, was mind|ful of its own Concerns in the present Juncture of the Affairs of Europe, that it might by all means procure that Crown to one, who would closely ad|here to its Interests. So the Prince of Conti, was not the only Person, that was in Competition for it, with Prince James. Prince Lewis of Baden, Ge|neral of the Imperial Forces, and whose Merits were not much short of his own, was also one of the Competitors; and King William seemed to fa|vour his Pretentions against Prince James; but this was only a sort of Phantome, which was brought forth upon the Theatre, to frighten the Actors, while his Imperial Majesty had resolved un|der-hand in his Cabinet-council, to cause the Ele|ctor of Saxony to be chosen, who for some Years past, had been closely in his Interests, and comman|ded his Forces in Hungary, This Elector was a man of true Courage, as well as the Prince of Conti and Prince Lewis of Baden; so that the Po|landers

could not refuse him upon that Score: For they are People, who will not have a King, but one that is capable both by Courage and Conduct, to head their Armies in Person, when it comes to fighting. But the great difficulty that they had to remove was, that he was a Lutheran; and this seem'd a very great one, because among the ma|ny Laws, that the Polanders have made, for the Government of their Kingdom, they have establi|shed this, for an unalterable one; that no Man shall be chosen King of Poland, but he who is of the Roman Communion. And therefore, when the Em|peror communicated his Designs to the Elector of Saxony, of advancing him to the Throne of that Kingdom; he insinuated to him at the same time, that there was a necessity for him to change his Religion: At last, whether it was that he had but little Religion, as ordinarily the Great Men of the World have but a small share of it, or if it may be imputed to any other cause, I do not know; but he not only agreed to do what was desired of him, but he also abjured it privately, before the Bishop of Javarin; yet he did not this, till he saw, that there was a Party in Poland formed for him, which was capable to put the Crown on his Head: The Designs of this Party were kept so secret, that Monsieur L' Abbee de Polignac, had not the least notice of them, but continued to believe, that he had no body to grapple with, but Prince James, whom he was not much afraid of, because of his disobli|ging Conduct: And the People were generally of Opinion, that he would follow his Example in too many things. So that Monsieur L' Abbee wrote to the French Court, that he hoped in a short time to bring the whole matter to an happy Issue. The Bishop of Cujavia, whom the whole House of Au|stria did chiefly rely on, for making its Designs effectual; being afraid that he should not be successful, because all the People had so great an

Esteem for the Prince of Conti, and especially the Ladies, who all desired him for their King; thought it best to deal craftily in this matter, and to ma|nage it to the best advantage he could for himself, when he found that he was at the Head of a Fa|ction, that at least might make the French Em|bassadour jealous of him, tho' it was not as yet so strong as his own. He caused it to be told him under-hand, that if he desired that he might not cross his Designs, it was in his Power to hinder him from doing it. That he knew he aspired to be a Cardinal, and that he considered, that the only way how he could attain to that Dignity, was by his being successful in his Negotiations for the Prince of Conti But if he would renounce all Pretentions in his favour, he would joyn Interests and unite Factions with him, by which means the Crown of Poland, would be infallibly secured to that Prince. No good Subject would have refused what this Bi|shop desired, though perhaps no Man would have yielded to it, but with some Reluctancy. But Mon|fieur L'Abbee scorned to hearken to such a Proposal, and did not so much as communicate it to the French Court, but pursued his former Designs; while the Bishop strengthned his Faction, by bringing over into it, the Party that had been for Prince James; for his Mother the Queen of Poland, was so enraged against the French, because they had traversed all her Designs for her Son; that she had rather the Polan|ders should chuse any other Man than the Prince of Conti; so little did she remember the Place of her Birth, or that the King of France had been so instru|mental as he was in the Election of the late King her Husband. Yet among all the Factions that were a|mong the Palatinates, there was one thing in which they all agreed, that what Person soever they should chuse for King, he should purchase their Suffrages with good round Summs of Money; so that the 200000 Crowns, which the Prince of Conti had sent

into that Country, was but as a drop of Oyl in a grea•• Fire; but the King supplied his Indigence, and sent thither at one time and another 4000000 of Crowns. The Elector of Saxony borrowed Money with both Hands, from several Princes; that he might satisfie the covetous Desires of the Polanders; and King William lent him great Sums as well as the Elector of Brandenburg: In the mean while, this Prince made some of his Troops march toward the Confines of the Duke of Saxony's Dominions, that lie nearest to Po|land; as if there had been some Difference between them, and the Elector of Saxony took Occasion from that to carry his own Troops out of Hungary, under pretence to defend his Dominions against the Duke of Brandenburg. But all this marching of Troops on both sides, was only that they might join their Forces together in case of need; that is, in case there should be a double Election, as there was great ap|pearance of it; that so the Duke of Saxony, might make good his Election by Force of Arms.

While these things were doing, the Prince of Con|ti diverted himself the best way he could, as if he had not in the least been concerned in any Business of Importance. He spoke of buying a House at Berci, as the Dukes de Chaulnes and de Gesvres had done; for each of them had one in that Town: The Duke d'Elbeuf who has that in common with many other Persons of Quality, that he does not always speak truth hearing him speak of a particular House, that belonged to one of the Farmers of the King's Reve|nues, whose Name was—with which he said he was very well pleased; offered immediately to deal effectually with the Landlord, and that the Prince should have a good Bargain on't: And that he might believe, that he could perswade the Farmer to do any thing, he told the Prince, that if he pleas'd to sup in that House to morrow night, he would oblige the Master of the House to provide a Supper for him, and then he should have an Opportunity to see the

whole Contrivance, and all the Conveniencies of the House. The Prince of Conti was well pleased with the Proposal; and told him that he was engag'd to be with the Dutchess de Bouillon at that time; but he would rather disengage himself than miss such an Opportunity: So they made an Appointment at that House, to morrow in the Evening. But while the Prince of Conti was at Dinner, the Duke d'Elbeuf sent to tell him, that the Appointment could not be kept, because the Landlord, who was not accusto|med to entertain Princes of the Blood in his House, was con••ounded with the Thoughts of it: as for him|self, he was resolved to take the Advantage of that Disappointment, and that if the Prince was pleased to put off the Appointment till to morrow, he would do himself the honour to entertain him at dinner in the same House, with Seven or Eight of his Friends; such as he should chuse. The Prince of Conti said to the Man who brought him this Message, that he thank'd the Duke d'Elbeuf for it, and that he ac|cepted of it, and would be timely at the House to morrow, that he might have time to take a full View of it and consider it. He invited the Mar|quis de Coastin, the President de Mesmes, Monsieur Caumartin, and some other Persons of Quality, to go along with him; but on the Morrow's morning came another from the Duke to make an Apology, that he could not wait upon him as he had promised, be|cause of some Business of Importance, that had un|expectedly fallen out, and which he was obliged to look after. But there was not so much as one Word of all this true: He did not so much as know the Man to whom the House belonged; he had not given him any Notice of the Appointment, which the Prince and he had made to sup at his House, nor had he any design himself, to entertain him at din|ner in the same House; so that there were as ma|ny Lies as Words, in all that he had said to him upon that Head. The Prince of Conti made a Jest

of all this, with his Friends, without troubling him|self any more about it. There was one Mr. Cha|pelle, who had been formerly one of the Prince's Domesticks, but at this time a Farmer of the Re|venues, hearing one speak of it to Mr. Caumartin; went to his old Master and told him, that though he was far below the Duke d'Elbeuf's Quality, yet he should acquit himself better of his Promise than he had done, in giving him an Entertainment at that very House, provided the Prince would not take it amiss, that he had presumed to invite him to it. The Prince answered, that he was well sa|tisfied with it, and made a new Appointment with his Friends, to be there to morrow in the Evening, and Mr. Chapelle regaled him splendidly. There were at this Entertainment many Persons of Quality, both of Civil and Military Employments; and among the rest there were present those, whom the Prince had invited, when he was to have supped there upon the Duke d'Elbeuf's Invitation. They discoursed about a great many things; and as it was impossible they could forget the Duke, so they took occasion to speak of a Visit, that his Mistress had lately paid to the Archbishop of Paris; because he had made an Ordinance, wherein this Lady found herself con|cerned. There were many Persons who had taken advantage of his Predecessors easie Temper, and had obtained leave of him to have Chappels in their own Houses; and under pretence of hearing Mass in these private Chappels, they came so seldom to Church, that they scarcely heard Mass there, at the Four great Festivals of the Year. Now the Archbishop thought it necessary to remedy this Custom, and for that end he suppressed all those Licenses, that his Predecessors had granted; and ordained, that all those who desired to have the Benefit of them for the time to come, should appear before him, that he might examine the reasons upon which the Licenses had been granted. The Dukes Mistress

had got one of these Licences, and she paid a visit to the Archbishop, and intreated him to confirm what his predecessor had done. But this Prelat, having heard of her Lewdness and Licentious way of Living, which was so publick, that even her son had made no scruple sometime before to say to the King, when he asked him, if he would be ready in a short time, to go to the Army; that he could not be so soon in a readiness to go thither, because his Mother had been more concerned to get ready the Duke d'Elbeufs Equipage, than his. This Prelat I say, who knew all this, and a Thousand other ill things of her; an|swered her coldly, that those who would wo••ship God acceptably, must fi••st know him, and fear him, and that those who did know him and fear him, would always think their pains well bestowed, when they went to Church where the rest of his s••rvants use to serve and worship him; and without saving any more to her, he refused to Grant her requests. The Prince of Conti, and all the Company Commen|ded the Archbishop, for having spoken to her after this manner, for tho it was but a word or two that he had said; yet it was Enough, to make her reflect of her own ill Conduct. The most part of them said also, that the Duke d'Elbeuf was much in the wrong, to deal so unkindly as he did, by his own Lady, for the sake of an old antiquated Whore, who had the Impudence sometimes to boast of the fineness of her Complexion, when it was well enough known, that it was Entirely owing to painting; But there were some, who undertook to justify the Duke, though they could not justify this Lady his Mistress. They pleaded in his behalf, that since he had nothing to Live by, or to support his Character, except his Go|vernment, he could not be much blamed, for ha|ving a Kindness for a Lady, that rewarded him so Liberally as she did; That she was frequently giving him good sums, and therefore he dispensed with her age. That there were several others who would do the

same thing, if they were in his circumstances: and in a word it was an ordinary thing among the young Beaus of the Court.

This was not the only Lady whom they had put on the foot of paying them well. In the mean time, it had been always the fate of King Charles the 2d. who had been mightily in love with this Lady, to have Mistresses who fought only to enrich them|selves at his expence, and with his spoils to enrich others before his face. Another Dutchess, whom this Prince had Lov'd, before this, had used him the very same way as this did, and the Chevalier de Cha|lillon, who is known at present in the world, under the name of Marquis, had continued to render her good service as long as she had wherewithal to re|compence him; and she thought she employ'd her Money very well, because he was handsome and very well shap'd, and besides, he was al|ways ready when she had a Mind for him. For she was a woman that gave no quarter to her Lovers, and pay'd them only in proportion to their services. She had learn'd from a Lady that was her friend, and who had Learned it herself from an old Countess de Vertus, that things ought to be done in this manner, and at least that this was the practise of the old Countess her self, who passed amongst the women of her time for the Cunningest that was among them all. The world indeed had accus'd her of weakness of judgment, but they had done her the greatest in|justice that can be done to a Woman; since so far from being a Fool as was Pretended, she had made it appear by one of the Principal Actions of her Life, that never any Lady had better understanding: for being grown old, and yet the prick of the flesh continuing to torment her, she took the Method that any honest Woman ought to take, which was, to find out a Husband for herself, tho she was quite decrepid. In the mean time, knowing by the ex|perience that she had of the world, that she might come to be deceiv'd, unless she took all the precauti|on

that prudence could possibly suggest, she did two things which shew the greatness of her Judgment. One was, to cast her Eyes on a Man whose figure promised fairly; The other was, to make a bar|gain with him, to oblige him to his good behaviour. This Man was the Chevalier de la Porte, who after the same manner as the Chevalier de Châtillon is now from Chevalier come to be a Comte. He was of a good Family, and tho he was not come of the Dukes of Br••tagne, as her first Husband was, yet she could put him in his place, without being accus••d of making a mean Alliance. So being satisfy'd both of his Person and of his Birth, the Question was only how to se|cure herself against the disgusts, which a Husband usu|ally takes, especially when interest has oblig'd him to take the burthen of an old Carcass, which he never marries but in the view and hope of being quickly rid of it. A Woman of so much knowledg and Experience was not easily to be deceiv'd, and behold too, what Measures she took to avoid it. Af|ter she had express'd the tender Sentiments she had for him, by which he reckon'd himself extremely Honored, because he had nothing, and she was very Rich, then she shewed him a strong box, in which there was Fifty Thousand Crowns of ready Money. Having opened it too, that he might be the more fully assured of what was in it, and having let him look on it as long as was enough to make him in love with it, she told him, that here was, what she in|tended to give him, on Condition that when he was her Husband he should use her kindly. The Cheva|lier de la Porte, who knew as well as any Man alive, how to make Promises; swore to her, Mountains and wonders, to perswade her, that if ever she did him that favour, he had rather dye a Thousand Deaths, than ever to be guilty of Ingratitude. It seems he thought she would trust to his Swearing. But the Countess retaining still her former senti|ments, told him, that tho' she believed him a Man

of Honour and in that Quality that he would keep his word to her, nevertheless that she would take such Precautions with him, that she should have no reason ever to repent of; that a Husband very often laught at the Promises which he made to his Wife; that she had no Mind to be disappointed, and therefore had resolved to tell him once for all, that if he would have her 50 Thousand Crowns, he must merit them by using her obligingly; that the best thing a Husband can do to a Wife is to caress her frequently; that on her part she promised to give him ten Louis d'ors for every time he caressed her, and as often and as far as he erred his performances, he might reckon to be payed accordingly. At this rate, if he caressed her but three times a Night, there was thirty Louis d'ors sure for him in the Morning, but if he pushed his valor further, he might quickly make the strong Box pass from her Closet into his own. This clause and Condition was not very agreeable to the Che|valier, tho on other occasions he had been often at work, without being so well Rewarded. But hav|ing a Passion for this Money, he consented to gain it with the sweat of his Brow. The Lady married him privately, and keeping her word to him every Morning in Proportion to his services, he had quick|ly emptied the strong box, if the Lady's Children had not perceived the intrigue betwixt them. They spoke to her of it, as a thing that made the world talk strangely of her conduct, and the Lady, finding herself straitned in this point, told them at last, that they were unjust to suspect her of Lewdness, that she did nothing but what was Lawful for her to do, that she was Married to the Chevalier, and that she would lye with him as often as ever she plea|sed. Her Children knowing that she had ready Money, and that this was the high way to squander it, endeavoured to get the Marrige annulled, on pretext, that her great Age, for she was at least Se|venty and two, had made her Incapable to know what she was doing. The Affair being brought

before the Judges, the Advocates pleaded on both sides; these for the Children, alledged strongly what they had been told, that the Lady was moap'd and silly, and that the Chevalier had surpriz'd and im|pos'd on her Weakness; but the Advocates on the other side, having utterly run down this Pretext, by producing the Bargain which she had made with the Chevalier, and which she had given him fairly in Writing; the Children had certainly lost their Cause, but the Judges would not suffer the Chevalier, whose Desire to empty the strong Box, had brought him almost on his last Legs already, to go on to kill himself.

They considered likewise, that the Lady by this means, would ruin her Children; for if this Coffer were once emptied, she would sell all that she had, rather than fail to fill it again, in order to enter|tain the good Services, which the Chevalier had not fail'd to perform very constantly. So the Mar|riage was annull'd by Decree of Parliament, who nevertheless appointed the Chevalier to have 20000 Crowns, for the Reward of his Labour.

The King of England's Mistresses us'd him much after the same manner, and made him pay as dear for his Pleasures, as this old Lady paid to the Chevalier; especially she to whom this little History was told, and whom the Marquis de Châtillon did so drain of her Acquisitions, that she is now as poor and miserable as once she was opulent. As for the other, whom the Duke d'Elbeuf frequented, she managed it a little better, though in the mean time she stuck at no Expense or Reward, when he threat|ned to leave her, and go and push his Fortune else|where.

But, let us now pass to some other Subject: We must know then, that she who was Lady of Honour to Madam la Dutchesse, being resolved to retire from Court, her Place which is worth 2000 Crowns of Pension per Ann. was sought for, by a great many

Ladies of Quality; who besides the 2000 Crowns which they had in their View, considered also, that thereby they should have Opportunities to get into His Majesty's Favour; for he desires to have one al|ways about Madam la Dutchesse, who will give him an exact Account of all that she does: And it is of for that reason, that he has appointed these sorts of Ladies of Honour, both for her and the other Princesses of the Blood; and that he himself has settled pensions upon them. And he has a politick design in it, for thereby he keeps both them and their Husbands in their Duty, because they know, that they have one in their House, who takes notice of every thing they do; so that they dare not adventure upon any thing that may in the least displease the King. The Marchioness de la Porte, whose Husband was once Admiral of a Squadron, and Nephew of the Comte de la Porte, whom I spoke of just now, having but a small Estate to live by, thought, that it would be very convenient for her, to have that Post, especially she having been a Wi|dow for several Years. She had several Friends, and among others, the Marquis d' Angeau, who has some Interest at Court, and did his utmost to have carried the Place for her. He was once in a fair way to have succeeded in it, but that it was told the King, that this Lady was not of sufficient Quality for so honourable an Employment; yet no body ad|ventured to speak any thing against her Conduct, for though she be no great Beauty, yet she is of so great Virtue, that she's as much esteemed, as those who are much more beautiful: And the late Monsieur de Croissy, was once afraid, that his Son, who is now Secretary of State, should be so taken with this Lady's true Merit, as to make a secret Marriage with her; and therefore he sent him into Italy, where he made him stay some Years, and did not recal him, till he thought it probable, that his long Absence had cured him of the Wounds, which his Converse with her had given him.

But her Enemies made use of another Argument against her; to which, had she got but a fair hear|ing, she could have so satisfied the King, that no doubt she would have obtained her Desire. But they imposed upon His Majesty, and told him, that there were Two Families of la Porte in France; that the one of them was a good Family, and the other was naught, that she was of the last, and Monsieur de Mazarine was of the first, and if he should pre|fer her to be Lady of Honour to Madame la Dutch|esse, People of the lowest Rank might pretend to Advancement, as well as she. And by this means, they prevailed so far, as that she was excluded, and the Marchioness de l' Angle, was preferred to that Place. Though in the mean time, she could have justly pleaded, that her Husband was of as good a Family as the Marquis de la Porte, for the Marquis was of la Porte de Vesins, and Monsieur de Mazarin was of another la Porte. At least this was said when the Mareshal de la Milleray, who was the Marquis's Father, had made his Fortune under the Ministry of Cardinal Richelien, with whom he was first Cousins. It is true, there were some who then alledged, that his Father the Advocate la Porte, was not descended of the Family de la Porte de Vessins, though he pretended to be of it; and the Mar|quis de Vesins was not well pleased with his Pre|tences, insomuch, that he would have challenged him for taking the Coat of Arms, that belongs to his Family, but that he was so afraid of the Car|dinal's Greatness, that he spoke nothing of it, unless it was to some particular Friends, to whom he would sometimes say, by way of Jest, that those who ad|vised him to enter into a Law-suit, with the Mare|shal upon that account, gave him bad Counsel; that he did not see how it could be pretended, that the Ma|reshal had done him any Dishonour, by entring him|self a Descendant of his Family, that on the contrary, he look'd upon it, as an evidence that the Mareshal con|sidered

his Family, as better than many others, for which he was much obliged to him.

This was not the first time, the King had been imposed upon, on such Occasions. The late Mar|quis de Renel, had some Enemies at Court, who in|sinuated to His Majesty, that he was but of a very late Family, so, that though he was a Person of great Merit, yet the King who has great Considerations for Birth, look'd upon him, as one of those, whom he ought not to advance so soon as others; for there are People, of certain Names and Ranks, who have some Right to hope, that they shall not lan|guish so long as others do, in the meer Expectation of the Favours, which his Majesty uses to bestow upon his Subjects. However, this Marquis having a great Desire to be Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, and thinking, that he ought to have been preferred sooner, he took occasion to speak of it one day to the King, and fairly represented to him, what good Services he had done him. The King gave him a favourable Hearing, as he always uses to do to those, who address to him, though few of them have the Honour to be known to him. But when his Majesty was pleased to answer him, the Marquis was surprised to hear him say, that he was in the wrong to be so impatient, and that he belie|ved, he had done as much for him, as for any Man of his Rank. That every Man ought to do him so much Justice, as not to think he was forgotten or neglected; though Persons of great Quality were preferred to him. That it was true, that Merit ought to be rewarded, wherever it was found, and that he had always had a special Regard to it, ever since he had governed by himself, but that there were certain Families, which he thought fit to prefer to others, for they had been always in possession of the most honourable Offices, and the highest Preferments, both at Court, and in the Ar|my; and that he could not without Injustice, de|prive

their Children of them, unless he found that they had degenerated from the Virtue of their An|cestors. The Marquis soon perceived by this Dis|course, that his Majesty had been possessed with a mean opinion of his Birth: But he was so far from cont adicting what his Majesty had said, in favour of those who had been of honourable Families, that he told him, it was for that very reason, that he thought himself neglected, that though he was not a Duke and Peer, or had not so much as any Office of the Crown, yet he was of as good a Family, as the most part of those, who had been advan|ced to higher Posts: That his Ancestors had had the Honour to do good Services, to his Majesty's Royal Ancestors, and that so long as he followed their Example, he did not see, why he was not capable of any of those Offices, that are designed for Per|sons of the best Quality. If the Marquis was sur|prised at His Majesty's Discourse, the King was no less surprised at his. He had always thought, that the Marquis was one of those upstart Mar|quises, of whom there are so many at Paris, and especially of Citizens, who take upon them this Title, though the Foundations of it were laid only in their Fathers Coffers, or in some Offices of the Gown, which some of their Family has enjoyed. And being desirous to be fully informed in this mat|ter, he asked him, if it was not true, that had been told him, that he was only de la Noblesse Bourgeoise, i. e. one who derived his Pedigree, only from rich Citizens, or from those who had enjoyed Offices of the Long Robe, as was said of the late Arch|bishop o•• Paris. When I speak after this manner, it is in Imitation of the Bishop of Noyon. For that Prel••te, who is the Glory of Prelates, yet not in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in which he ought to be it▪ but only, be|ca••••e he thinks, that no Man is comparable to him, for the Quality of his Ancestors: and speaking one day of the Family of that Archbishop, he said, that it

could not be called an Honourable Family, but only one of the best of those Families, that have been rai|sed by Lawyers, or that had made a Figure among the Citizens of Paris. What he said was true upon the matter, for there is a great difference between a Family that is truly honourable, and such a Fami|ly as he was speaking of; but sometimes, all the Truth should not be told, especially if there is a great man who may take it amiss: for some days after the Chief President of the Parliament, who is descended of the same Family, that the late Archbishop was of, made the Bishop of Noyon sensible of his Folly. The Bishop being come to dine with him, and his Coach|man having carried home his Coach Horses, resol|ving to return with them in the Afternoon; the Chief President, who had been informed of what he had said of his Family, and who is seldom upon the Re|serve with any man, especially, if he have any Quar|rel against him, no sooner saw him, but he gave or|ders to the Steward of his House, not to serve up din|ner, till he was gone. The Bishop staid till the or|dinary time of Dinner was past, and long'd for it, but seeing no appearance of it, he asked the President if that was one of his Fasting Days, he told him plain|ly, that it was not, but that he had given Orders, that no Dinner should be served up, till he was gone, because it would be too great Presumption in him, and a Token that he had forgotten the meanness of his Birth, which was but of the Noblesse Burgeoise, if he should offer to entertain at his Table, so great a Seig|••e••r, and one of such an illustrious Descent, as he was of; to this he added some other Words to the same Purpose; and the Bishop was puzzled what to say to him; but after some dull Apologies, he was for|ced to go home and dine at his own House; yet he would fain have staid dinner with the President, be|cause his Coach Horses were not there; but the Pre|sident chose to let him have the use of his Coach, ra|ther than he should have staid dinner at his House.

But to return to the Marquis de Renel, he said to the King, that he knew no such thing in his Family, as la Noblesse Burgeoise; that every one of his An|cestors, wore a Sword by his Side, and if there were any of the Family that had not done it, it was be|cause he was consecrated to the Church, as was the Cardinal d' Amboise, who had the Honour, to be the first Minister of the Crown. When he spoke of this Cardinal, the King perceived, that he had been imposed upon, by those who had made him believe, that the Marquis was but of a late Family, and of mean Extract. So that, afterwards he did him Justice, and gave him what he had asked.

The Duke de Choiseul, who had discorded with his Lady, was reconciled to her, after his Return from Savoy. She could hardly be prevailed with to live with her Husband, and though she was fully as much to blame, as he was, for the Breach that was betwixt them; yet she pretended, that it was not safe for her to live with him. But the King told her, that she had but one of two Things to chuse, either to cohabit with her Husband, or to go into a Nunnery. The very Thoughts of a Nun|nery, is enough to fright a Lady, especially, when she has any Inclinations to be a Coquette, so that the very speaking of it, was enough to oblige her, to obey his Majesty's Commands. But the King's Care extended farther than to those Ladies, who did not live as they ought to do with their Husbands, he took care also, to curb the Extravagancies of many others, even though they did not belong to the Court, and being informed, that Monsieur l' Ab|bee Lionne, the Son of the late Monsieur Lionne, Minister and Secretary of State, and who enjoyed the Abbacy of Marmoutier, with a great many o|ther rich Benefices, did not behave himself so well, as his Character obliged him to do, he sent him a Letter de Cachett, ordering him to retire into a Seminary. He also appointed one to stay with

him, and to take care, that when any Benefices, that were at his Gift, became vacant, he should neither diminish the Revenues of them, nor be|stow them upon unworthy Persons. Monsieur l' Abbee Roullier, whose Father had made so great an Estate by the Post Office, that he settled all his Children, as if they had been Persons of some Quality, was also sent to the Seminary of Notre Dame de Vertus, with an Order to those that had the Inspection of him, that they should not allow him to correspond with any Person, and that they shou'd oblige him to do Pennance; for all this was necessary, to reduce him to a right sense of his Duty, seeing he had become a Rake, and led such a profligate Life, that he equally disgraced the Character of an Abbee, with which he had been honoured, and that of a Magistrate, with which he was also cloathed; for he was Coun|sellor Clerk of the Parliament of Paris: But he had so little Regard to what became the Dignity of those two Places, that there was not a grea|ter Debauche in all the City. But notwith|standing all the Care his Majesty took, to repress Immoralities, and to oblige all Persons, to live suitably to their Characters; yet the Genera|lity of them, were so far from answering that Design, that there were greater Abuses committed than ever. For where there was one, that was thereby prevai|led upon, to abandon his former vices, there were Thousands, who thought it enough, if they were so far Hypocrites, as to please his Majesty by an out|ward Appearance: so that Hypocrisie began then to come in fashion, and there were never so many Tar|tuffes, or Hypocritical Puritans, as began to appear at that time, among People of all Ranks, especially, among the Courtiers, though one would think, that such a Character, did less become them than any o|thers. For it seems to be peculiar to the Court, that though Dissimulation may be Learned there, better

than in any other Place, yet it is a diffimulation of a quite other kind, than what I am now speaking of. For when a Courtier dissembles, he does it, that he may procure to himself as many Pleasures and Con|veniences, as he can, and to shun Troubles and In|conveniences, and not to be his own Tormentor and Executioner, as the Hypocrites; who makes himself miserable in this world as well as the next, so that it is an ordinary saying, that an Hypocrite is tho De|vils Martyr. Those who had new Opinions to Pub|lish, could not have found a time more Convenient for their Purpose, than this was. There was a cer|tain sect which had lain hid under the Ashes, ever since Molinos had Adventured to broach his wild sen|timents at Rome, and it began now to appear again at Versailles. The Archbishop of Cambray, who was Preceptor to the young Princes of France, and had the reputation of a very devout Man, declared him|self zealous for this Sect: Those who were of it did teach by a subtil kind of reasoning, tho' to speak the truth they did not avow it plainly, that the Body might do all sorts of wickedness while in the mean time, the Soul might be altogether Innocent and unconcerned, as to what the Body did, for if the Intention of the Soul was directed to God and for his Glory, then it was not in the least to be blamed for the ill that the Body did, which is under a strange captivity to the cor|ruption that is in mans nature. There was one Ma|dame Guyon, a Lady of no great Quality, but of so great an Estate, that she had Married her Daughter to the Comte de Vaul, Eldest Son of Monsieur Fouquet, who had already endeavoured to Propagate this abo|minable Doctrin, for which reason she had been sent to Vincennes. But the Archbishop, of Cambray un|dertaking to defend her Publickly, he Published a Book, in which by an abstract way of Reasoning, which no Body was capable to comprehend, he en|deavoured to show, that this Doctrine was not in the least erroneous. He alledged the Writings of St.

Francis de Sales to justifie himself, and pretended, that he taught nothing, but what had been formerly taught by that Holy Man. Every Body was asto|nished at the sight of this Book, and it had never been Printed, if the Author had been obliged to ask a licence for it. But the Bishops have a Privilege to Publish what Books they Please, though their works be not Examined, by those who are Authorised to give Licenses for Printing Books: And this piece was published, before it was known, that he had begun to write it. All the Hypocrites were over|joyed, that a way was found out, for them to gratifie their sensual appetites, while they outward|ly appeared vertuous, which they thought them|selves obliged to do, lest they should lose the Kings Favour. But they were not suffered long to boast of this Imaginary victory: For as soon as this Book appeared, the Archbishop of Paris, The Bishops of Meaux and Chartres, with many other Prelats de|clared against it; and the Bishop of Meaux began im|mediately to write a refutation of it; and besides, he joyned with the Archbishop of Paris and the Bishop of Chartres (both which had a great Interest at Court) to deal earnestly with his Majesty, that the young Princes, the Dauphins Sons, might not be kept any longer, under the Direction of a Prelat, whom they accused of the most horrible Impieties, that had ever appeared in the Church.

The King knew not well what to say to this, because he had always looked upon the Archbishop of Cam|bray, as a Man of good Morals, and of Exempla|ry Piety. And it must be confessed, that there was never any Prelat appeared more zealous for Gods Glory; for he was so far from having ever given any bad Example, that on the Contrary, he had been very useful for the Edification of those, who saw him or conversed with him. However, the Arch|bishop of Paris, and those other two Bishops, gave his Majesty no rest, till they had obtained what they

desired, and what they thought necessary to be done upon such an occasion, and they prevailed with him at last, to order the Archbishop of Cambray, to re|tire to his own Palace, till fa••ther orders. But before he came there, he had occasion to Practise the Do|ctrin which he had undertaken to defend; it is com|monly called Quietism, the meaning of which is, that a Man ought never to be troubled at any thing, that can happen to him: Now the Archbishops Palace had taken fire, by the fault of some Servants whom he kept there, and it had consumed not only all the Buildings, but also all the Furniture of the House, which had been very richly Furnished. Every Body desired to know, how he would take this accident, but he appeared still as firm and unconcerned, as if he had been altogether dis-interrested, Mean while, many Persons of Quality were suspected of the same Errors, that were charged upon him, and among o|thers, the Duke de B••a••villiers and his Brother in Law the Duke de Chevreuse. The first was Gover|nour to the young Princes of France, whose Preceptor the Archbishop of Cambray had been; and the thoughts of this were uneasie to the King, till he was satisfyed in it by the Duke himself; the King discoursed with him a long time in his Closet upon this Subject, upon which he had likewise a long conference with the Duke de Chevreuse; after which it appeared, that his Maiesty was undeceived, both as to the one and the other; yet their Ladies, who had al|ways been of the Number of those, who went to Marli, did not go there to often as they had used to do before that time, which made some People believe, that the King Dissembled a little in his Carriage to them. The Archbishop of Cambray wrote in his own Vindication, and pretended, that all that he had said in that Book, was true and orthodox, and offe|red to submit himself to the Court of Rome, while the Bishop of Meaux accused him of Heresie more than ever. The Abbee de la Trape, who had

some years before, Renounced the Quality of an Abbee that he might compleat his Penance, which he had been long under, in the Quality of a simple Monk, Declared himself also Mr de Cambrays Enemy, without waiting till his Holiness should Pronounce any thing concerning his Book, tho this Archbishop had sent it to Rome, that he might know his thoughts of it. The Abbee wrote two Let|ters upon this Subject, which the Bishop of Meaux caused to be Published, in the beginning of his own Book; he thought by this to strengthen his cause, and that since he had to do with an Archbishop, who was a Man of Learning and had many Friends, he ought not to neglect any thing, that could in the least support him in it. He also sent his Nephew Monsieur l' Abbee Bossuet to Rome, that he might there employ all his Interest to have the Archbishop condemned; at which, many good People were of|fended, for they thought, that when a Man acted only through Zeal, it was not fit to create him so much trouble. Madame Guyon, who by the Interest her Friends had made for her, was set at Liberty, fell into another Enthusiastick Fit, in favour of this Sect. she propagated it every where, and infected the House of St. Cir with it, so that it was found necessary, to put some of the Nuns of that House, into other Con|vents. In a Word, the King took all the Measures, that Prudence could suggest to him, to crush these Errors, before they should do any harm to the Church. While he was at so much pains to pre|vent the ill Consequences of this Debate, there were other debates broke out, in the Churches of Rheims and Roan. The Archbishop of this last City, had made a List of some Books, which he had recom|mended to those of his Diocese, to be made use of, for resolving cases of Conscience; but had not mentioned any of those Books, which the Jesuits think fittest for that purpose: these good Fathers took this so ill, that some of them appeared in Print against him: the Arch|bishop

accused one of their Number as the Author, he pretended to know his Stile, and demanded of the society of Jesuits, that they would do him Justice in punishing this Author. The Fathers denied that he was the Man, and he denied it himself; and they sent him to Paris, that he might withdraw himself from the Effects of the Archbishops anger, who was doing all the mischief he could against him, as well as against all the rest of that Society. He made an exact search after the Printer of the Pamphlet, that had been Published against him, and having kept some of them in Prison for some time, the whole business vanished into smoke for want of evidences. The Schism that broke out in the Church of Rheims, was also Occasioned by a debate between the Archbishop and the Jesuits. These had publickly maintained in the Schools of the Colledge which they have in that City, two things that the Bishop was not Pleased with. The first was, That the Doctrine which Moli|na taught, concerning Grace, had been virtuous in all the attacks, that its Enemies had made against it The Archbishop of Rheims, who is no Molinist, censured these Theses, as full of Falshoods, and published an Edict, declaring that they did not contain the true Doctrine of the Church: he therein also censured some other Passages, which they had cited in another Thesis, and this Edict being conceived in Terms, that they were very much dissatisfied with, they did much the same, that those of Roan had done. They wrote against it, and exposed it. So that the Archbishop, to oblige them to do him Ju|stice, was advised, to cause the Provincial and the Three Rectors of their Houses at Paris, to be cited, that they might declare, if this Pamphlet, which had been Printed in that City had been done by their Order, or without their order. The Author had been more circumspect than to put his Name to it,

and the Bookseller and Printer had concealed their Names: But the Author had said enough, to let the World know, that he had composed it, by Or|der of his Superiours; and it was upon that ac|count, that the Archbishop would oblige the Pro|vincial and the Three Rectors, to make their De|claration. After they had met in a Chapter, up|on this Business, they were so foolish, as to de|clare, that the Pamphlet contained nothing, but what was consonant to Truth; and what they were ready to defend, So that having made this Confession, the Archbishop of Rheims, gave in his Address to the Parliament, desiring, that Judgment might pass against them, and that they might be obliged to make a publick Reparation of the Injury they had done him, in publishing so scandalous things against him. In this Address he said, that if they preten|ded, as it seem'd they did, that they had been inju|red by his Edict; then the Laws and Customs of the Church taught them, that there were but Two ways, by which they could have Redress. The one was, to have made it known to himself, by repre|senting to him, wherein he had injured them: But if they thought, that he would be too partial in his own Cause, and would not retract what he had once done, how unjust soever it might be to them; then the other way was, to have addressed themselves to the Primate. He represents also, that it was not becoming private Men, to expose the Conduct of an Archbishop, by seditious Pamphlets. That such a thing might be of dangerous Consequence, besides, that it was a Breach of Charity. The thing which had given occasion to all this, was capable to have revived the great Dispute concerning Grace, which had made so much noise in the beginning of this Age, and therefore the King thought it ne|cessary to put a stop to this Law-Suit, and told Fa|ther de la Chaise, that it was his Royal Pleasure, that the Society of Jesuites, should give Satisfaction

to the Archbishop of Rheims; and having called the Chief President of the Parliament to Versailles, that he might give him such Orders, as he judged ne|cessary about this Affair. He took up I know not how much time, in discoursing with him of the best Methods, for putting an end to it. The Jesuites, who had made a foolish Step, in justifying every thing that was in the Pamphlet, were very glad, that the King had fallen upon a way, how they might evite the Shame and Disgrace, which would have infallibly come upon them, if the Parliament had proceeded to pronounce a Sentence. They went to the Chief President, and told him, they were ready to obey the King's Orders; the President told them, he was glad, they were come to a Resolu|tion, that was so much for their Interest, as well as reasonable in it self. He concerted the whole matter with them, that they should draw up a Writing, by which they should acknowledge, that they had taken wrong measures, in not addressing to the Archbishop himself, as they ought to have done; that he might have been pleased to have heard them in their own Vindication; and promi|sing that they should take that method for the fu|ture, if ever they should be so unfortunate, as to have occasion to complain of him. And that in this Writing, they should intreat the Archbishop to par|don what was past, and to receive them and their Society again into his favour. The President com|municated this Writing to the King, before it was signed, that he might know how his Majesty was satisfied with it. The Archbishop could not demand any more, so that he was content to put an end to the Debate, provided they should sign that Pa|per. Perhaps they would not haye done it, if the King had not interposed his Authority, but the good learned Fathers, knew better than others did, that Scripture commands us expresly to obey supe|riour Powers; and therefore it was no hard matter

to perswade them to do what the Archbishop had de|manded of them.

About the same time that the Archbishop of Cam|bray's Opinions (of which I have already given some Account) made so much Noise, the Princess d' Har|court, was obliged to go to Normandy, where her Husband's Estate lies, to look after his private Affairs: She had been long at Court, and had always found a way to preserve her Interest in it, in all the Changes that fell out; though there were many others that were fully of as good sense as she, who were not able to do so much. So soon as she was gone from it, it was reported, that it was partly upon her account, that the Archbishop had been cast out of favour. And many were of opinion, that she was a Quietist, and so much the rather, because she retired so often, sometimes into one Convent, sometimes into another. But a Lady, who thought she knew her bet|ter than others did, said to those who were speaking of her, that they were mistaken as to that Princess, and that she was not for creating trouble to herself, by an indiscreet Zeal; and that she could be Surety for her, that till the King, as well as his Ministers be|came Quietists, she should not be one: But if they should declare them••elves once in favour of that Par|ty, she would not then promise for her; for never Lady was more inclined than she, to perform exactly what was enjoined by St. Peter, to obey every Ordi|nance of Man, whether the King as supreme, or those who are in Authority under him. Those who were concerned in this Lady, and had been under some fears, that the Reports of her being Quietist might be true, were well satisfied with this Account of her. Soon after, she returned from Normandy, and was not behind with any Lady at Court, in exclaiming a|gainst Quietism; and spoke upon all occasions, of no less than Fire and Faggot, for those of that Per|swasion.

About this time, the Chief President's Son, was made a Counsellor of State, in the Place of Monsieur Pussort, who at last had paid that Tribute, which all men owe to Nature, after he had been Two or Three Years, without being able to go to the Counsel, of which he was Dean. He was Uncle to the late Mon|sieur Colbert, Minister and Secretary of State, and he was as his Right-hand to him, when he was con|triving ways and means for enriching the King, at his Subject-Cost. For he had laid down some Ma|xims of his own, by which he determined always in favour of the Exchequer. And it was never seen, that he had been so much as in one single Instance, prevailed with, even by the strongest Arguments, to determine otherwise. So that in the Council, he got the Name of Pussort the Fiscal. And when any man was so unhappy, as to have a Law-suit with the King, he had reason to give over his Cause for lost, if it de|pended upon his Vote. But at last, when he found himself at the point of Death, he began to reflect, that he must give an account of all these things; the Thoughts of them, put him under great fears. His Confessor endeavoured to encourage him, by repre|senting to him the Mercies of God, who pardons all the Sins a man has been guilty of, so soon as he comes to repent of them. The Archbishop of Roan, who was his Grand Nephew, and to whom he had left some part of his Estate, as he did to all these, who were within the same degrees of Kindred to him; nay, and to the Marquis de Seignelai's Children too, tho' they were farther removed than the rest. I say, the Archbishop spoke much to the same purpose to him, that the Confessor had done. But the poor man was still afraid, that he did it only as thinking thereby to comply with his Humour. And he was the more confirmed in this, when he observed, that the Arch|bishop, when he had gone into the Withdrawing|room, to bring the Viaticum, chided the Parson of St. Roche, that he had not caused him to be put in

his Bed, instead of exciting him, who was a dying man, to pay that Respect and Veneration to that God, in whose presence he then was. However, in a short time, he was called to give an account of all his Actions, before God's Tribunal; and his Heirs had 500000 Crowns of Estate, which he left them to divide among themselves. And there was not so much as one of them, had any use for his House to dwell in; and therefore they sold it to Monsieur Bertin, Treasurer of the casual Revenues, who is a man of the greatest Curiosity of any in Paris, in the matter of Houshold Furniture. And as those at Court entertain the King, with accounts of every thing that falls out, so it was told his Ma|jesty, that Mr. Bertin had bought the House, and that when he came to dwell in it, it would look quite another thing, than it did while Mr. Pussort was alive. They told him also, that he had the finest Carpets in the World, better than any that were in his Majesties Palace. The King had the Curiosity to go and see them, and he ask'd him, how much they had cost him, and where he had bought them. He answered, that he had paid 200 Crowns for the Piece of them, at the Auction of the Marquis de Segnelai's Furniture. The King said be|fore all the Court, that that Minister had always dealt so by him, so that when any fine thing, was brought from the Indies, he gave him the Re|fuse, and took all the best to himself. And he added, that he had never known a more vain|glorious man, than that Marquis; or one that was so conceited of his own Personage, that his Vanity had made him oftimes fail in point of good Breed|ing, and in the Respect he ow'd him; for without considering that he was speaking to his King, he would have ask'd him sometimes, if he did not think he was well dress'd, and if he had not a good Air. Mr. Bertin finding that the King had a desire for the Carpets, intreated his Majesty to accept of them

from him; the King took them, but would not have them in a Gift; but caused him to be paid the Money that he had given for them. There were Three Ladies who had been Friends of Mr. Pussort, that expected, he would have considered them in his Will: And for that end, had complied for se|veral Years, with all his Humours; they had e|very Night entertained him with Diversions suitable to his own Fancy, and he had never given them so much as a Cup of Water for a reward, except Two Meals that he gave them a Year. The one of them was Marchioness de Merce, who was his Wife's Niece, and the other Two Persons, I shall not name; but they had fully as great a Desire to have their shares of his Money, as she had. But they were quite frustrated in their Hopes, as well as she. There were a great many who made In|terest for his Place of Counsellor of State, as well as for his other Place of Counsellor of the Council of the Royal Revenues, by which he had 18000 Li|vers of Sallary: But the King gave this last to Mon|sieur de Pommere••, and the other to the Chief Pre|sident's Son, as I have already said. He had been Attorney General before; but because he had made no great Figure in that Post, his Father addressed to the King, that he would be pleased to bestow this upon him, and frankly told his Majesty, that his reason was, because his Son was not sufficiently qualified for being Attorney General; that when he purchased that Office for him, he believed that he had been capable of discharging it; but he found, he had been in a mistake, and that therefore he would be glad to have him eased of the Honour of that Bur|then, which he was not capable to bear. This was thought an odd sort of a Compliment, from such a man as the Chief President of the Parliament: And those who heard of it, ask'd one another, if it was necessary, that a man, that was of the Par|liament, should be of greater Parts, than he who

is of the Council, where the nicest Affairs of the Kingdom are treated of. For it could not be said, that it was the want of Memory, or the Art of speaking in publick, that made him incapable of the Office of Attorney General; for while Mon|sieur Talon had been in that Post, he had shown a way how to supply those defects; he had always read his Pleadings, and as it was no shame to i|mitate a man, who as all France confessed, had ac|quitted himself honourably in that Office, therefore they concluded, that certainly his Father knew of something else, that made him incapable of it. However the Father's Merits supplied all the Son's Imperfections; insomuch that the King, not only granted his Request, but another favour also, which he had not ask'd. For he allow'd him to sell the Office of Attorney General to the best Advantage. Upon which, there were a great many offered for it, who were as incapable of it, as the President's Son was; and who had much more Money than Merit. They considered also, that as the Incapa|city of his Son, had been the Cause of his being promoted to be a Counsellor of State; so they might at last come to some Promotion for the same reason. Among the rest, there was a Master of Requests, who was the Son of another Master of Requests, and he concluded, that this was the on|ly way, how he could raise himself, to the greatest Offices of the Council. And therefore he offered Money for it, as others did, and believed, that he ought to have been prefer'd to them, because he excell'd them in the Art of pronouncing ill, and stuttering in his Speech; and had lately married a young Girl, which had made him be much con|sidered. But the Chief President, made an ill step in Politicks; for whereas he ought to have chosen one of the meanest Qualifications, that he might thereby let the World see, that his Son was not the only Person, that was incapable of that Em| Employment:

The Man he bargained with was Monsieur Joli de Fleuri whose Father had been Coun|sellor of the Great Chamber. He got Four Hundred Thousand Franks for it, which was more by 50000 Franks, than is usually given for such an office. Then People began to say of this New Attorney General, that it seemed he had no mind to be Raised to the Office of a Counsellor of State, in that way that the Presidents Son had been Raised to it. For so soon as he was Instal'd in his Office, he made it appear, by his Eloquence and his great Capacity, that he was far above the Ordinary sort of Attorneys.

While these things were a doing among the Law|yers, the Duke de Lausun, who has been so tossed by Fortune, ever since he first appeared upon the stage of the World, was very diligent in a Law suit he had against his Ladies family. When he was near Sixty Years of Age, he had Married a Daughter of the Mareshal de Lorges, who was not above Sixteen. In which he Play'd the Fool as much as when he put in for the Command of the Army in Ireland. For it's Equal|ly ridiculous, for a Man of Sixty to Marry a Girl of Sixteen, and for one that has never had any Com|mand but over his own Domesticks or Day Lobourers, to Command an Army. Yet as good sense would qualifie him for the one much more than for the o|ther, so he managed his Wife in such a way, that he never became one of those Husbands, whose wives make them to be Pointed at in the streets; he gave her as many fine Cloaths as she Pleased, and as much Money as was Needful for her diversions. But it was upon Condition, that she should not keep Com|pany, but with some old Dotards, of whom he was not much affraid. For as to the young Sparks a|bout the Court, she was discharged in any terms to see them, or to admit of any visits from them; For by his own Experience he knew the Frailty of young Ladies. All these Precautions were the more justi|ficable, because if it was in his Power to Secure this

young Lady for himself alone, she was well worth all the Pains he would be at in doing it. And he left nothing undone, that was Necessary for that End. The Governess, whom he appointed to wait upon her, was well Advanced in years; she had once been with Madame de Guise, and he trusted much to her Virtue, she was as seldom from her as was possible for her to be, and it was a rare thing to see this young Lady without her Guardian. She had great ad|vantages secured to her by her Marriage Contract, without which the Mareshal de Lorges would not have given her in Marriage to him. But the Mare|shal and his Lady had not given him any portion with her, yet Fremout, who had ammassed many Milli|ons of Money, by farming the Kings Revenues, which had been his Imployment almost fifty year, supplied the want of a Portion, for in the Marriage Contract he had Engaged to Leave them a Hundred Thou|sand Crowns, after his Death, and when he died sometime after, the Duke de Lausune was surprised, that his Son Mr. D'Onneuil and the Mareshalls Lady who was his Daughter, had renounced all Interest in the Estate, and had brought from Languedoc, a Little Girl of Eleven Years of Age, who called her|self his Relation, and Pleaded she should be his heir|ess by the benefit of his Inventory. His Widow had also Renounced, yet before she did it, she had Con|curred with his Children, to put the best and most Valuable things out of the way. Upon this the Duke found himself under a Necessity, either to Content himself with any Effects that he found still Remaining of the Inheritance, or to Enter into a Law Suit, a|gainst the Widow and her Son. For as to his Father in Law and Mother in Law, he could not ask anything of them; For they had not signed the Grant which his Ladies Grandfather had made, in Prospect of the Marriage. Besides that, they adhered to that Grant, which he had made to themselves, when they were Married together, so that he had not any Reason

Imaginable, to sue them at Law. But he su'd the Mother and the Son, and pretended that they had secret Conveyed out of the way, the Effects of the Estate, and, that they ought to be Ordered to pay him an Hundred Thousand Crowns, in Ready Money, without putting him to the pairs of seeking for Payment, out of such Remains of the Estate, as did still appear. But this was not all he Craved of them, For besides this 100000 Crowns, for which, Fremon had payed Interest so long as he Lived as of a thing that was already acquired, he had pro|mised them, a Hundred Thousand Franks, out of the whole Estate; but his Widdow and her Son had ad|justed matters so, that all that was Remaining of the Estate, after the Debts were Payed, was but at most 100000 Crowns; so that they Designed to have fru|strated the Duke of 100000 Franks, besides that they would have left him in hazard, of being called to an Account, by the King and his Ministers, as or|dinarly all those are, who Marry the Daughters or Grand Daughters of Farmers of his Majesties Reve|nues. Unless the Marriage Portion has been Payed in Ready Money. The Duke de Lausun who had no great Skill to Dispute his Ground in Ireland, chose rather to quit it in time, than to Expose himself to the dangers that Threatned him; if he had Stayed to Dispute it with Sword in hand; thought, he could better understand the Debates of the Pallais; and tho' he had no more Served an Apprentiship in this, than he had done, in the war yet he Armed himself with a strong Resolution to plead to the utmost; rather than Do, what Monsieur d'Onneuil would have obli|ged him to. The case was Brought before the Reque|tes du Palais because of the Quality of the Parties who had the Right of Committimus, for Mr D'Omneuil, was Master of Requests, besides that the Duke was not obliged to appear before any other Court of that kind, unless he had Pleased to do it. He was enra|ged above what can be Expressed, at the Methods

that were taken by Madame de Fremont and Mr. D'Onneuil in which they had engaged the Mareshal de Lorges and his Lady, and therefore he enjoyned the Dutchess, that she should not see either of them: this did very much trouble this Lady as well as her Mother the Mareshals Lady, who Loved her Daugh|ter tenderly, but the Duke told his own Lady, That when he Enjoyned her this, It was not so much for satisfying his own resentment of the Injuries they had done him, as because her Interest was Concern'd in the debate. For he could not expect to Live Long, and after his Death, she could not expect any thing of his Estate, but what was provided to her, by the Marriage Contract, and therefore, It was Necessary, he should use all sorts of Means, for Preserving to her, what she ought to have from him. That if she had nothing, but what they now offered her, the Effects they would give her, would be liable to a Chamber of Justice, whenever it should please the King to erect one, and that they might even make him pay a Tax, by the first Order of Council that should be given in that matter. And that therefore, she ought to make her Mother sensible, that there wa•• not any hopes of a Reconciliation with her, unless she should oblige her Brother and Madame de Fremont to do him Justice. These words made a great Impression upon the Dutchess mind, and as it is Natural for very Body to desire Riches, even to the Prejudice of a near friend, so she observed her Husband•• Commands so Exactly, that she refused to be present at the Ce|remony, when one of her Sisters was to put on the Nuns habit, and to Enter into a Convent at Conflaus, till her Husband told her, that he was satisfyed, she should go thither.

About this time Monsieur de Phelypeaux, the only Son of Monsieur de Pontehartrain Minister and Secre|tary of State Married his Lady. Who was a Daugh|ter of a Sister of his Fathers, who had been Married to the Counte de Roye of the Family of Rochefocant.

He had gone to pay her a Visit, and the Marriage was Concluded, within three Days after. The Bride had but 24000 Livers of Portion, and the King gave her 6000 Livers of Pension, of which she had 4000 before, which the King had granted her, when she Embra|ced the Roman Communion. For her Father had Dyed a Protestant in England, where he rather chose to End his Days, out of his Countrey, and deprived of the Honours which he might have Expected, upon Account of his Birth and Merits, than to Renounce his Religion. The Countess de Roye was also in that Kingdom, and had Carried thither three of her Chil|dren, that she might Educate them in their Fathers Religion; while the Rest of them, which were many, chose Rather to Embrace the Roman Religion. this Lady whom Mr. Phelypeaux Married, was in a Convent at Soissons, when her Marrige was Concluded, And her Relations having sent a Coach for her, and having appointed Changes of fresh Horses by the way, that she might come in all hast, she came to the Countess de Roucy Lodgings, who was her Eldest Brothers Lady; Monsieur de Phelypeaux pay'd her a visit there that very day, and he returned upon the morrow, and dined with her. The Chevalier de Roye, who was this young Ladies Brother, was at dinner with them, and finding that Monsieur de Phylipeaux had caused a great many pieces of Clothe of Gold and Silver to be brought to him, that he might chuse what Pleased him best, he said to the Countess de Rocy that if she did well, she would take him off a Vest of one of the pieces, of that was sold for 20 Louis D'Ors the Ell. Madame de Roucy was not over hasty in doing it, and the young Bride, having Chosen what Pleased her best, The Mercer went home, before the Chevalier de Roye had his de|sire. But after he was gone the Chevalier fell a Jesting with Madame de Roucy and said it was a mean thing in her to have let the Mercer go away, with the Brocado stufs, before she had done what he desired of

her, that it was the least she could have done for the Honour of her Sisters marriage. Monsieur de Pheli|peaux seemed not to take any Notice of what he said, but so soon as he was gone home, he sent Orders to that Mercer, that the next morning he should wait upon the Chevalier de Roy, by the time he had got up, with that piece of Stuff, and that he should let him have as much of it as he desired, the Mer|cer obeyed his Orders, and made his Compliments to the Chevalier, and told him the Commission he had got. The Chevalier finding he might take what he pleased of the whole Piece, took not only as much as would be a Vest, but as much more, as would line him a Coat. The Marriage was solemnized with|in two Days after, and the King gave only 50000 Crowns to Monsieur de Phelypeaux, though he used to make a Present of 200000 Franks, to the Son of one of his Ministers of State, upon Occasion of his Marriage. But he told Monsieur Pontchartrain, that he was not so liberal as he used to be, and that the then Juncture of Affairs was the Cause of it. For the War forced him against his Will, to be a good Husband of his Money, but that the present Loss should be made up to them another time. Monsieur Pontchartrain was a man of too great sense, not to take this Compliment as he ought to do. And be|ing very glad to have a Daughter in Law of so good Quality, he had the Satisfaction to hear every bo|dy approve of the choice he had made for his Son. He certainly quite outdid all that the former Mini|sters of State had done, for raising their Families, and those of whom his Daughter in law was descen|ded, were far more illustrious, than the Families of the Souvrees, or the Alegres, or the Matignons, with whom Tellier, and the Colberts had marched, and the Family of Crussol of which the Marquis de Barbesieux's first Lady was a Daughter, was far short of them, though it was honoured with the Title of Duke and Peer of France. Next morning after this marriage,

there was 500 Loüis d'Ors, put under the young mar|ried Lady's Toilette. Which was but a small Sum for a Lady of her Quality, there being ordinarily a greater Present made, to a Partizans Daughter. But the Evening before, she had got a Present of a little Box, with a great many fine Toys in it, and she found in the Bottom of it, a little Box full of Ear rings and Jewels.

Every Body went and paid Visits to the new mar|ried Couple, and the Dutchess de Lausun, having gone to pay her Compliments, she saw her Mothers Lacqueys in the Antichamber, by which she knew, that she was there. And being unwilling to be found in Company with her, least she should ostend her Husband, she went out of the Room, designing to go home, though she had already caused notice to be given, that she was there. This was told to Ma|dame de Phelypeaux, and to Madame de Pontchartrain, who was then in company with her, and who sent to call back the Dutchess, and went and spoke to her, and brought her into a Closet, and put her in company with her Mother. The Dutchess was once in hopes to have been married to Monsieur Phelypeaux and his Mother Madame de Pontchartrain would have been extremely glad, that she had been her Daugh|ter in Law: But the Duke de Lausun, making his Addresses to her at the same time; the Mareshal de Lorges, who knew that the Duke was worth 100000 Livers a Year, loved rather to see his Daughter a Dutchess, than Daughter in Law to a Mi|nister of State. This had made some Misunderstandings for some time, between Madame de Pontchartrain, and the Mareshal's Lady, but they were reconciled by this Marriage, and she was the first that told the Dutchess, that she ought to live in a better Corre|spondence than she did with her Mother. The Ma|reshal's Lady told her the same, and charged her with Ingratitude, since she knew well enough, how ten|derly she ••ad always loved her. The Dutchess told

her, that if she pleased, she might easily remove the Cause, which she had to complain of her. That she wished for nothing more, than to see her frequent|ly, and to live in good Terms with her, and that it was very unpleasant to her, to be deprived of that Happiness. But she was obliged to obey her Hus|band, and it was in her Mothers Power, to cause Ju|stice to be done him, and then all difficulties would be removed, that besides, if she loved her, as much as she said she did, she would cause ready money to to be paid to the Duke and her, that what they got might be exempted from those after Enquiries, to which the Estates of Farmers of the Kings Revenues are lyable. The Mareshal's Lady having no Incli|nation to do any such thing, or perhaps being afraid that the doing it, might discover all the Effects, which had been conveyed out of the way, that her Mother, Brother and herself, might be secured from such an Enquiry, answered her, that she demanded what was impossible for her to grant: That she could not expect more than what she could have out of her Grandfathers Estate, and that to ask more, was a Proof, that she considered her own Interest, rather than what was reasonable. The Dutchess replied, that notwithstanding all she said, yet the Duke her Husband believed, that he did not demand any thing, but what was reasonable, but since she and her Friends were all of another Opinion, and he was positive in his Resolutions, it was not likely they would soon agree, that for herself, she was extremely vexed at it, because she found herself deprived of all that sweet Converse, she might have with her Parents, without any hopes of a Recon|ciliation, because she knew her Husband to be of such an humour, that it was almost impossible to dissuade him from any thing that he had resolved upon. And he was certainly as headstrong, as a She-Mule, when he had got any thing once in his Head, and instead of being softned, by the Account the Du|chess

gave him of her Mothers Grief, because she and they were not good Friends, he was more in|censed against them, than before. And he not only prosecuted his Law-suit, but petitioned the Coun|cil, that he might be allowed to bring it before other Judges, pretending that he having accused Madame de Fremont and her Son, for having intermeddled with the Estate of the deceased, they ought to plead their Cause before the Court of Aides, and not before the Requetes du Palais, by which we may perceive, that while he endeavoured to secure himself, against an Enquiry, he endeavoured to expose his Lady's Grand mother and her Uncle to one. This enraged them more than ever against him, especially because it was their Interest, that the World should not know, that Monsi••ur Fremont was so rich, as he truly was when he died. For it is a Crime for those who farm the Revenues, to die so rich, and their Heirs are ordi|narily called to account for it. They had a Thou|sand Instances of this in other People, and though they had not had any, yet they had lately had an In••••ance that concerned them nearly, and which no doubt, put them under great Apprehensions.

One who had been a Deputy or Clerk to Mr. Fre|mont, was dissatisfied with him, perhaps because he had n••t considered him in his Will, or it may be, because he had not made any great Fortune, while he was in his Service. However, he came to Monsr. Pentchartrain, and informed him, that he knew a certain place, where his deceased Master had hid 4000000•• of Money, that he himself had assisted in putting it there; so that he spoke nothing, but what he knew to be certainly true. He was so po|sitive in what he had said, that it was impossible for 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Pentchartrain•• o•• to believe him; and there|fore, he sent Orders to the Intendant at Roan, to go to the place, where this Deputy had told him the Money was hid, which was in a Cellar of a Castle, which Fremont had bought in Normandy. This De|p•••••• went ••nither also, by order of the same Mi|nister,

that he might point out the very Place, where it was hid. But when the Intendant had gone thither, and made as exact a Search, as was possible for him, there was nothing found. The Deputy thought to have excused himself, by saying it had been taken away, since the time that he had put it there: But as no Man should think to deal thus by a Minister of State; for they would be every day imposed upon, if those who offered to do it, were not punished for it: He was sent to Prison, and no doubt he deserved it, though he had not been guilty of any thing but of designing to ruin the Family of that Man, by whom he had acquired all the Estate he had; however the Duke de Laus••n, pretending that if it was not in that place; that Madame de Fremont and her Son, had hid her Husband's and his Father's Treasures; yet as he pleaded before the Council, the Case ought to be referred to the Court of Aides; and his rea|sons were, that it belonged to that Court, to take Cognisance of the Estates of Farmers of the King's Revenues, wherein the King himself was concerned directly or indirectly. That in the Case between Madame Fremont, Mr. Onneuil and him, the King's Interest was manifestly ••oncerned, seeing the Que|stion was, if they had concealed the Effects, that had belonged to a man imployed in the King's Revenues. There was scarce any Person of Note or Interest, whether at Court, or in the City, but solicited the one or for the other Party: And though the Mareshal de Lorges and his Lady, seem|ed not to concern themselves in the Business, in which it was thought, that if they would declare themselves, it would be in favour of their Son in law and their Daughter, rather than for Madame de Fremont, and her Son; yet they solicited under-hand for these. They considered, that besides that the Me|mory of the deceased ought to be dear unto them, not only because he was the Father of the Mareshal's

Lady, but because he had been a great Benefactor to them, both before and after their Marriage. They ought therefore, to do all that was in their Power, for saving his Estate from being seized. They thought it was very likely, that though the Stroak could not fall upon themselves, because of the Precautions they had taken, both in their Marriage Contract, and in the Gifts they had afterwards received, yet it might fall upon their Daughter, who instead of having the 100000 Crowns, that Madame de Frem••nt and Mr. d'Onneuil were willing to pay her, she might be in hazard of losing the whole of it.

These Solicitations and under-hand Dealings, how close soever they were kept, yet came to the Duke's Ears, and enraged him to a greater degree, against his Father in law and Mother in law; so that it was ob|served of him, that he took as much pains, to ob|tain what he had desired of the Council, as he did Four or Five Years ago, to shun the Weight of King William of England's Arm. But all the pains he took, turned at last to his Confusion, for he was cast before the Council, and the only thing that the Chancellor said to him that could please him, because of the Hatred he bore to his Ladie's Grandmother and Uncle, was, that when such People as the deceased had been, did marry their Daughters or Grandaughters to Per|sons of Quality, it was the first Step they made, to restore to the Publick, what they had robb'd it of, but by the good leave of that Magistrate, I do not think, that the Name of Restitution, agrees well to such an Action as that. For to restore a thing, is to give it back, after it has been taken, and to give it back to the rightful Owner too; but for a Man to loaden his Children or Grandchildren with Money, and by great Wealth to purchase to them a Blood that cannot mix with theirs, without some sort of Shame, and then to call this Restitution, was an odd way of speaking; and it is the first time I ever heard it call'd so. The Duke de Lau••un,

being cast by the Council, and the Case remitted back to the Requêtes du Palais, their Friends offer'd to mediate for an Agreement between them. They per|swaded the Duke, as well as Madame de Fremont and her Son, to submit the Cause, to the Arbitration of Two Counsellors of State; and having chosen Monsieur de la Reine, and Monsieur de Ribe••re, they told the Duke, that these Two Magistrates, being great Lovers of Justice, would give him as much satisfaction, as the Requêtes du Palais would do, provided he had a just Cause. But having got private Intelligence, that he could not expect great satisfaction from these Two Counsellors of State, and that they had said, that they did not think, that the Widow or Children of a Donor, could be obliged to pay ready money, when the Deceased had not left any, he became so suspicious of them, that he recalled a Blank he had signed, with an Obligation to acknowledge them for Judges. And would prosecute the Matter in all the Forms, before the Requetes du Palais, who laugh'd at his Pretensions, and a merced him in the Expences of the Suit.

If Fre••ont's pretended hidden Treasure mde•• a great noise, and made many People say, that there was never a Par••isan, i. e. one that Farms the King's Revenues saved, since he, who had robb'd the Peo|ple of so much money by his Extortions; had not been at pains to restore any part of what he had robbed; yet there was one of them, that gave some grounds to think, that there are some People of that Employment, who sometimes think of their own Salvation. But I do not know, if it be enough for a man to think upon it, only as he did; for I think if a man be as much concerned in it, as he ought to be, he must join Effects and Deeds to his Thoughts, whatever may be the Result of them. However, this Business made as great noise, as the pretended hidden Treasure did, of which I gave just now an Ac|count. One of these Farmers of the Revenues, (whose

Name I have forgot) died, and left Two Children, behind him, who did not live in great Friendship to|gether; which happens often betwixt Brothers. The Father had in his Will considered the one, much more than the other; with which this last was very ill plea|sed, and resolved to make his Brother uneasie, and threatned to tell Mr. Fonchartrain, of their deceased Father's Management; unless he would let him have an equal share in the Estate. I know not if he was such a Fool to do what he threatned, or if one who had been his Father's Clerk, had done as Mr. Fre|mont's Clerk did. But Mr. Ponchartrain, being in|formed soon after their Father's Death, that there was something found among his Papers, that might turn to the King's Advantage; he sent a Commissary from Paris, to seal up all the Papers, which he had in the place where he died. It was within the Ge|nerality of Alencon; and Mr. de Pommereu's Son, who was Intendant of it, receiving Orders to be present, when the Cabinets, Coffers &c. were to be sealed; the whole Business was done, with all the Precautions, that could possibly be taken, in a matter, wherein they were afraid to be cheated. And the Intendant left a Garrison to continue there, till the Seals should be taken off. This Business fright|ned all the Partisans, who were afraid, their Chil|dren and Goods might be used the same way after their Deaths. But because in the time of so burthen|some a War, the Court had often need of them, it was not thought convenient to discourage them, and therefore a Report was spread among the People, that the reason why the Papers &c. of the deceased were sealed up, was because he had made a Will in favour of the King. When they had observed all the Forms that were usual on such Occasions, so that there was no reason could be given for any farther delay, the Intendant returned from Alencon, to assist at the opening of the Seals, which was done with all the usual Formalities, and in the Inventory of the Papers

which had been left by the Deceased; it was found there were Two Papers, by which the Partisan had declared, that God had given him Grace to examine his Conscience, and that he would not adventure to go into the other World, without restoring what he had taken wrongfully. In the first of these Papers, which clearly appeared to have been first done, tho' it was neither dated or signed; he said, that he had by indirect and unjust methods, gain'd 100000 Crowns, during the time he had been concerned in the Revenues, so that it was his Will, that his Heirs might restore that Sum to the King; as for the other Paper, it was found to have been written after the former, for it contained a Declaration, that after a mature and serious Reflection, upon all the Business he had been concerned in, he found that he had made an un|just Acquisition of 400000 Livers; so that it was his Will, that his Children should restore it to his Majesty, out of his Estate. The Intendant sent Copies of the two Papers to Mr. Pontchartrain, who in such a matter, would not rely upon his own Judgment, which was, that tho' they were not dated or signed, so that they would not signifie any thing between Two private Per|sons; yet it might be otherwise, when the King was concerned in them. He therefore consulted all those, whom he thought capable to determine so nice a Que|stion; some were of one opinion, and some of another. Those who were more for the Forms of Law, than for material Justice, did not think that the Heirs of the deceased could be sued in Law; seeing such Papers were not regarded in any Court of Justice. But on the other hand, those who followed the Maxims of Mr. Pussort the late Dean of the Council, (who, as I have already said, voted always in the King's favour whether his Majesty was Plaintiff or Defendant) made use of his Authority to prove, that the King had good reason to demand the 400000 Livers mentioned in the last of the Two Papers.

Besides this Authority, which they reckoned upon as a Law, that had taken place in the time of a great Minister, who had reformed the State, and had put the King's Affairs into an excellent Condition; by the prodigious Taxes that had been laid upon the Par|tisans; they alleged also, that when a man did ac|knowledge, in a Paper written with his own Hand, that he had unjustly acquired such a Sum of money, that was by a Thousand times a more convincing Proof, than all the other Proofs; that could possibly be had. Mo••sieur Po••chartr••in was much of the same opinion, as the truth is, a man can hardly be of a|nother: Yet there are certain Rules of Law, which must be observed, least the Laws themselves, to which they r••late, should be violated: And therefore he spake nothing either for it, or against it, unless that it was to be wished, that all the Partisans, which had been formerly taxed, had done as this man did; since that would have been an established Rule by which the King might have legally demanded, what they had cheated him of. Because of this Ex|pression, it was thought that he was much of Mr. P••ssort's mind, as to the Partisans; yet it was an Expression no man could find fault with; for besides, that common sense will not allow a man to accuse himself unjustly, he was obliged to say all this, as suitable to his Office: However, all the Effects of the deceased Farmer of the Revenues were seized, so that, though he who had been the Informer in this matter, had not promised to find out 40000000 as Mr. de Fre••ont's Clerk had done, yet the Infor|mation was found to be truer. The great need the King had of money at that time to support the War, was the reason, that this Minister thought it not proper, to neglect such a Business: Though to speak the Truth it was so small a matter, in com|parison of what was needful to the support of that War, that it was no more capable to do it, than it is for a drop of Water to quench a great Flame.

Though the King had been already necessitated to make a great many Edicts, yet he was still obliged to make new ones; and one among the rest, which gave occasion to a witty Ex|pression of the Duke de Ferte's, at least it was reckoned witty, by some little pretenders to Wit; though I confess, I am not of their mind, whether it be that I am but an ill Judg, or that they have been mistaken at that time. This Edict was concerning Coats of Arms belonging to Families. All the People of Quality were striving, who should make the best Projects for bringing in Money to the King; for they knew His Majesty would reward them for it; and most of them had need of some reward, because of the great Expence they were at, in the Army and at Court. The Dutchess of Ro|quelaure was the Author of this Project, and had a good Re|ward for it, and being come to Versailles some days after, with a very rich Petticoat; many of those little Pretenders who were standing round about the Duke de la Ferte, who made them sometimes laugh, desired him to take notice of that rich Petticoat, and to admire it. He said that it was no wonder it was rich and fine, seeing it was strew'd and deck'd with all their Scutcheons. This was the witty Expression that was so much talk'd of: Though I thought there was as little Wit in it, if not less, than in another which he had some days after, upon occasion of the King's going to S. Germain en Laye to pay a Visit to K. James and his Queen. Those who were with the Duke asked him, why the King went so often thither, he said, he did not exactly know what might be his Majesty's Reason, but he guessed, that the General Peace being now upon the point of being concluded; so that K. James could not stay any longer in that Kingdom: The King went to ac|quaint him with the Article of Six Months stay: Every bo|dy was perswaded, that seeing by this Peace, the King was to acknowledge King William for Rightful King of Great Britain; K. James would not stay and see his Ambassadors come to His Majesty's Court, and that therefore he would go to Rome, or at least to Avignon, to conceal his Misfortunes. But as he has learned by the Exercises of Piety and Devotion, which he has practised these many Years past, to take the saddest events as from the hand of God; so it is now found, that the Duke de la F••rte, was out in his guessing, when he thought that this Prince would soon leave S. Germains. Yet K. James resolved not to let the Peace be concluded, without making the Confederates sensible, that the Alliance they had entered into, with K. William, for setting him upon his Throne, might be of dangerous consequence to themselves. He cau|sed a Manifesto to be drawn up, and copies of it to be given to all the Ministers of Princes and States, that were concerned in the Conferences at Reswick. In this Manifesto, he vindica|ted himself from an Imputation, that his Subjects had char|ged

him with; which was, that he had been always so strict|ly in the Kings Interests, that he would never enter into any Treaty, with any other Potentates, for reducing his Power which was become formidable to all Europe. And the Confe|derates themselves, who had often endeavoured to gain him, but could never prevail (whether it was that he was really in his Majesty's Interest, or that he thought it was for his own Interest, not to engage in War against him) made also use of the same pret••xt, when they deserted him. For when he sent some of his Servants to their Courts, (after K. William was entered into England) and desired them, that they would not give any assistance to that Prince, they met with so very cold a reception, that it is impossible to find its Parallel. And the Pope himself did as it were mock at him, so that the Person whom he sent to Rome, brought nothing back, but Beads instead of Summs of Money; tho' he informed his H••liness, that the true Reason of his Misfortunes, was, that he had zeal••usly endeavoured to re-establish the Roman Ca|tholick Religion in his Dominions; but how much soever it was the Pope's Interest to have protected him upon that ac|count: Ye•• his Holiness had his own share in those fears, which the King's great Power gave to all the other Princes of Europe; so that he would not hearken, either to what Religion advised him to, or to what the Ordinary Interest of Popes uses to suggest to them on such occasions. After K. James had published his Manifesto, he met with the same treatment be had met with before; for tho' he clear'd himself, as well as he could, from the accu••ation I have already mentioned; and endeavoured also to make the Consederates sen••••ble, that they might come to fall under as great Misfortunes, as had befallen him, if they should sufter that by the T••eaty of Peace, which was upon the point of being concluded, the Prince of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should be acknowledged King of England: Yet they did not think it convenient, to treat him better than they had done before. So that there being no hopes left him, of being restored to his Throne, unless some great Re|volution should happen in his Country: He intreated the King, that what Treaty soever he should make with his Ene|mies, yet he ••ight never oblige him, to go to any great di|stance from his Court. He thought Prudence obliged him to ask this of his Majesty: For he remembred, how after his Fa|ther's misfortunes, his Brother and he had been forced to de|part out of F••ance, where they thought to have found pro|tection.

The End of the First Part.