Memoirs of Louis XIV, vol 5 | Page 6

probity. She frequently succoured her friends with
money and influence; constantly did them the most important services,
and very faithfully kept the secrets or the money deposits that were
confided to her.
She had been intimate with Madame de Maintenon during the whole of
her residence at Paris; but Madame de Maintenon, although not daring
to disavow this friendship, did not like to hear her spoken about.
She wrote to Ninon with amity from time to time, even until her death;
and Ninon in like manner, when she wanted to serve any friend in
whom she took great interest, wrote to Madame de Maintenon, who did
her what service she required efficaciously and with promptness.
But since Madame de Maintenon came to power, they had only seen
each other two or three times, and then in secret.
Ninon was remarkable for her repartees. One that she made to the last
Marechal de Choiseul is worth repeating. The Marechal was virtue
itself, but not fond of company or blessed with much wit. One day,
after a long visit he had paid her, Ninon gaped, looked at the Marechal,
and cried:
"Oh, my lord! how many virtues you make me detest!"
A line from I know not what play. The laughter at this may be
imagined. L'Enclos lived, long beyond her eightieth year, always
healthy, visited, respected. She gave her last years to God, and her
death was the news of the day. The singularity of this personage has
made me extend my observations upon her.
A short time after the death of Mademoiselle de l'Enclos, a terrible

adventure happened to Courtenvaux, eldest son of M. de Louvois.
Courtenvaux was commander of the Cent-Suisses, fond of obscure
debauches; with a ridiculous voice, miserly, quarrelsome, though
modest and respectful; and in fine a very stupid fellow. The King, more
eager to know all that was passing than most people believed, although
they gave him credit for not a little curiosity in this respect, had
authorised Bontems to engage a number of Swiss in addition to those
posted at the doors, and in the parks and gardens. These attendants had
orders to stroll morning, noon, and night, along the corridors, the
passages, the staircases, even into the private places, and, when it was
fine, in the court-yards and gardens; and in secret to watch people, to
follow them, to notice where they went, to notice who was there, to
listen to all the conversation they could hear, and to make reports of
their discoveries. This was assiduously done at Versailles, at Marly, at
Trianon, at Fontainebleau, and in all the places where the King was.
These new attendants vexed Courtenvaux considerably, for over such
new-comers he had no sort of authority. This season, at Fontainebleau,
a room, which had formerly been occupied by a party of the
Cent-Suisses and of the body-guard, was given up entirely to the new
corps. The room was in a public passage of communication
indispensable to all in the chateau, and in consequence, excellently well
adapted for watching those who passed through it. Courtenvaux, more
than ever vexed by this new arrangement, regarded it as a fresh
encroachment upon his authority, and flew into a violent rage with the
new-comers, and railed at them in good set terms. They allowed him to
fume as he would; they had their orders, and were too wise to be
disturbed by his rage. The King, who heard of all this, sent at once for
Courtenvaux. As soon as he appeared in the cabinet, the King called to
him from the other end of the room, without giving him time to
approach, and in a rage so terrible, and for him so novel, that not only
Courtenvaux, but Princes, Princesses, and everybody in the chamber,
trembled. Menaces that his post should be taken away from him, terms
the most severe and the most unusual, rained upon Courtenvaux, who,
fainting with fright, and ready to sink under the ground, had neither the
time nor the means to prefer a word. The reprimand finished by the
King saying, "Get out." He had scarcely the strength to obey.

The cause of this strange scene was that Courtenvaux, by the fuss he
had made, had drawn the attention of the whole Court to the change
effected by the King, and that, when once seen, its object was clear to
all eyes. The King, who hid his spy system with the greatest care, had
counted upon this change passing unperceived, and was beside himself
with anger when he found it made apparent to everybody by
Courtenvaux's noise. He never regained the King's favour during the
rest of his life; and but for his family he would certainly have been
driven away, and his office taken from him.
Let me speak