Both Luxembourg and Feuquières had superstitious leanings. An aristocratic acquaintance of Luxembourg’s recorded that he had a ‘childish weakness for fortune tellers’45 and he employed a personal astrologer. How far his interest in such matters had extended now became the point at issue.
On 6 October46 Lesage revealed that he had had at least one meeting with Luxembourg and Feuquières. He had been introduced to them on 31 January 1676* at the house of the Marquise de Fontet, a Parisian hostess in whose salon Luxembourg was always welcome. Having been informed that Lesage knew how to perform marvels, the Marquise had invited him to entertain her guests, and Feuquières and Luxembourg – who were both present on that day – had expressed a wish to see what he could do. After the two men had gone upstairs with Lesage he had asked them to write down a list of demands, which could be transmitted to the world of spirits. Lesage had then performed his favourite feat of prestidigitation, convincing the onlookers that what they had written had gone up in flames when in reality he had secreted the paper away for his own purposes. He then took it home with him so he could read it at his leisure.
It was the contents of this paper that now became a matter for dispute. When called upon to give an account of this incident, Luxembourg and Feuquières were both adamant that they had merely set down a few light-hearted questions as an amusing exercise. Lesage’s recollection was very different, for he claimed that on inspecting the document, he had found that the pair had compiled a ruthless set of demands designed to secure their advancement and to ensure that anyone who might stand in their way should be obliterated.
Lesage contended that Feuquières had expressed a wish that an uncle of a woman he wished to marry should die. Luxembourg’s desires had been more extensive, if no less chilling. Besides expressing a wish that he might win victories, which would efface the memory of his failure at Philippsburg,* he had sought the elimination of one of his foremost military rivals, the Maréchal de Créqui. He had also written that he wanted to marry his eldest son to Louvois’s daughter, and had followed this by a demand that his own wife should die and leave him a widower. Such a request on Luxembourg’s part was not utterly incredible in view of the fact that the Duchesse de Luxembourg was described by Primi Visconti as ‘the ugliest person of her day’, while her appearance reminded Saint-Simon of ‘a great vulgar fishwife in a herring barrel’.47 She had been a great heiress and Luxembourg had derived his ducal title through her but he had never showed her much affection. For the most part he had left the Duchesse to live out a ‘sad and twilight existence’ at her chateau in the country, while he amused himself elsewhere. However, it had long been whispered that his sister-in-law, the Princesse de Tingry, was much more to his liking, even though many people considered her to be only marginally less hideous than her sister. There were persistent rumours that Luxembourg’s relations with her had been indecently close and Lesage now encouraged this idea by claiming that Luxembourg had stipulated as one of his requirements that he wanted the Princesse to love him.
After Lesage had tricked Luxembourg and Feuquières into thinking that he had destroyed their list of demands, he took his leave of the two men, promising that the paper would soon be miraculously restored to them. As Lesage left, Luxembourg had given him two pistoles with which to drink his health but, according to Lesage, the Maréchal not only assured him of a larger reward if the paper was returned, but even undertook to pay him as much as 2000 livres once the wishes enumerated there had been fulfilled. Three days later Lesage had sent back the original document, untouched by flame. Luxembourg had supposedly been filled with wonder and perplexity, though Lesage had to admit that despite the fact he had assured the Maréchal that his wishes had been made known to the spirits, Luxembourg had refrained from giving him any more money.
In his statement of 6 October Lesage explained that it had since come to his knowledge that Luxembourg and Feuquières had then turned to other members of the Paris underworld in the hope of furthering their desires. Feuquières had asked la Bosse and la Vigoreux to contrive the death of the person who he feared would impede his marriage and if this man (whose name had unfortunately slipped Lesage’s memory) was still alive it was only because la Bosse and la Vigoreux had failed to gain access to him. Luxembourg had also had recourse to la Bosse because he wished to recover some documents relating to a property transaction. The papers were in the possession of a businessman named Dupin, and Lesage said he had been told that Luxembourg ‘had done several things’ to bring about the death of this man and his partner. Agents acting on Luxembourg’s behalf had arranged for spells to be performed, and had taken hearts transfixed with nails into churches. These agents had recently approached Lesage himself, asking him to aid them, but Luxembourg had not left matters entirely in their hands. Lesage had understood that the Maréchal had personally raised the subject with a Breton gentleman called Chambelan, who did distillations for la Voisin and who had fled Paris just before his ‘good friend’ Magdelaine de La Grange had been tried.
Much of Lesage’s statement had been incoherent and rambling, as well as lacking in verifiable detail, but La Reynie regarded it as a vital breakthrough. He at once informed Louvois and suggested that matters would progress still further if the Minister of War assumed a direct role in the inquiry. Louvois responded promptly to his proposal. On 7 October he visited Lesage at Vincennes and there held out the hope to him that the King would show him mercy, provided he revealed all he knew of any matter relating to poison.48 While surprised that his revelations about Luxembourg had been greeted with such enthusiasm, Lesage recognised that he had been cast a lifeline and eagerly grasped it.
On 8 October Louvois wrote to inform the King of recent developments. Far from suggesting that Lesage’s account deserved to be treated with caution, he placed the worst possible construction on his words. He brushed aside the fact that even if Lesage’s allegations were accepted without reservation, it did not appear that Luxembourg and Feuquières had actually committed crimes, but only that they had had malign intentions. It may be that Louvois’s horror at what he had learned was compounded by his own superstitious nature: the Duchesse d’Orléans would write that Louvois himself believed ‘in sorcerers, in fortune-tellers, the whole lot of them’.49 The fact that Luxembourg had apparently been so intent on securing a union between his son and Louvois’s daughter may also partly have accounted for the virulence of the Minister of War’s reaction for, while others might object that such a match would have constituted a mésalliance for one of Luxembourg’s lineage, Louvois clearly had no difficulty believing that the Maréchal had coveted it so ardently. Nevertheless, even if one grants this, the manner in which Louvois now set out to inflame the King does suggest that he also nourished a bitter animus against both Luxembourg and Feuquières.
In a state of excitement that came close to elation, Louvois informed the King,
All that your Majesty has seen against Monsieur de Luxembourg and Monsieur de Feuquières is nothing in comparison to the [enclosed] declaration [by Lesage] … in which Monsieur de Luxembourg is accused of having asked for the death of his wife, that of Monsieur the Maréchal de Créqui, the marriage of my daughter with his son … and to do enough fine things in war to make your Majesty forget the mistake he made at Philippsburg. Monsieur de Feuquières is depicted there as the wickedest man in the world who sought opportunities to give himself up to the devil, to make a fortune and to ask for poisons with which to poison the uncle or guardian of a girl he wished to marry.50
While the King was digesting all this, Mme Voisin came up with some startling revelations of her own for, like Lesage, she too had been subjected to relentless pressure to divulge more about the well-connected people who had come to her. Having delved into her memory, on 9 and 10 October51 she obliged, excusing her earlier reticence on the grounds that she had hitherto thought it improper ‘to reveal secrets which were confided to her by persons of quality’. Now, however, she felt it incumbent on her to tell everyt
hing she knew about some prominent court figures who had confided to her their ‘evil thoughts’. La Voisin insisted that, far from encouraging these individuals, she had been horrified by their proposals, particularly when she had realised that their malevolence was directed against the King himself.
Casting back about thirteen years in time, la Voisin declared that the Comtesse du Roure had initially been a client of hers but had then been enticed away by Lesage. However, prior to losing her in this way, la Voisin had found out that the Comtesse was on poor terms with her husband, though she found her brother-in-law far more pleasing and was on a ‘close footing’ with him. She had aspired higher than that, however, for she had wanted to acquire ‘influence over the mind of the King’ and she had hoped Lesage could arrange this for her. Such was her determination that she had several times spoken of poisoning Louise de La Vallière.
According to la Voisin, the Comtesse was not unique in contemplating such a step, for the Vicomtesse de Polignac (who, like Mme du Roure, had started with la Voisin before defecting to Lesage) had held similar aims. Like so many others, the Vicomtesse had longed to be rid of her husband but besides this, she had wanted to be loved by the King. With this in mind she, too, had plotted to poison Mlle de La Vallière.
This was electrifying enough, but the shock was still greater when la Voisin named the Comtesse de Soissons as a former client of hers. For many years Madame la Comtesse (as she was known at court) had occupied the highest position in the Queen’s household. She had also been a great favourite of the King, though once he had fallen in love with Louise de La Vallière his affection for her had cooled. La Voisin now recalled that many years earlier (she did not give a date but certainly no later than 1666) the Comtesse de Soissons had paid her a visit. She had been accompanied by the Maréchale de La Ferté and another friend, Mlle Bénigne de Fouilloux, who subsequently had married the Marquis d’Alluye.
La Voisin said that, without telling her who she was, the Comtesse de Soissons had ordered her to read her hand. On doing so, she had seen the Comtesse’s palm was marked by a pronounced ‘solar line’ which, in view of the fact that the King’s personal emblem was the sun, had an obvious significance. La Voisin told her client she could see that she had once been loved by a great prince, whereupon the Comtesse demanded sharply whether there was any chance that that love would reawaken. La Voisin had said that it was possible, but the Comtesse made it plain she would be satisfied with nothing short of a positive response. Fuming that she could not endure looking like a fool, she had declaimed angrily against Louise de La Vallière before demanding that la Voisin supply her with the means of eliminating her. When la Voisin had protested that this would be extremely difficult, the Comtesse had flown into a rage, shouting that it was absolutely imperative that la Voisin should help her. She had then uttered the most ominous words of all, declaring that if she could not obtain satisfaction against Louise, ‘she would carry her vengeance further, and would stop at nothing’. This could be interpreted as a threat on the life of the King himself.
La Voisin said that after this occasion she had never seen the Comtesse de Soissons again. She would indeed have remained unaware of her visitor’s identity had not Mlle de Fouilloux disclosed the Comtesse’s name to her just before leaving. However, while la Voisin was adamant that she had done nothing to further the Comtesse’s ambitions, she could not guarantee that the Comtesse had not persevered in her design with the aid of other less scrupulous persons.
* * *
Attention now switched back to Lesage, who may have hoped that his revelations about Luxembourg and Feuquières would prove sufficient to secure a pardon, but who soon discovered that far more was required of him. La Voisin’s latest evidence suggested that Lesage was still withholding information, and it was made clear to him that this would not be tolerated. On 11 October Louvois instructed La Reynie to remind Lesage that the offer of clemency made to him had been conditional on his full co-operation and that, unless he did better, his trial would take place shortly.52 Faced with this threat, Lesage abandoned his earlier inhibitions.
A month earlier la Voisin had suggested that Lesage had done business with the Duchesse de Vivonne, sister-in-law of Mme de Montespan, and on 14 October Lesage confirmed this. He explained that, having become a client of the divineress Françoise Filastre, Mme de Vivonne had put her name to a pact drawn up by la Filastre, which contained ‘terrifying things’ in some way relating to the King. (He alleged that the Duchesses de Vitry and d’Angoulême had signed the same pact, but since the last named lady was proverbially virtuous, it was deemed inconceivable that this could be so and this part of his evidence was ignored.) Lesage said this had come to his knowledge when the Duchesse de Vivonne had grown anxious that this compromising document had remained in la Filastre’s possession. Desperate to recover it, the Duchesse had gone to Lesage and begged him with tears in her eyes to secure it for her. Lesage had promised he would regain it, though in fact he never managed to do so. Since he had not seen the document, he could not be specific as to its contents, but he said he understood that la Filastre had been promised a payment of 3000 livres if the wishes of those who had signed it were granted.53
A fortnight later Lesage named further members of the aristocracy who had been involved in questionable activities.54 He disclosed that the Comtesse de Soissons’s younger sister, the Duchesse de Bouillon, had come for a consultation with him when he was lodging at la Voisin’s. Following his well-practised routine, Lesage had invited her to put down her desires on paper and had then pretended to destroy what she had written. As usual, however, he had abstracted the paper and, on inspecting it, had discovered that the Duchesse had requested that her husband should die, leaving her free to marry the Duc de Vendôme. Lesage said that since then the Duchesse had sent to him several times, wanting to know whether he could fulfil her desire. On one occasion she had even tempted him with a bagful of coins but Lesage maintained that he was unwilling to commit himself to so hazardous an undertaking and had rejected her offer.
Lesage next identified the Marquis de Cessac as another of his clients. Cessac had been expelled from court in 1671 for cheating during a game of cards, but had been permitted to return three years later. Lesage reported that some years prior to his disgrace, Cessac had asked him to provide him with a secret means of winning at cards, particularly when playing against the King. A little later Cessac had confided that he was in love with his sister-in-law and, since he wanted to marry her, he asked Lesage to devise a way of killing his brother, the Comte de Clermont. Lesage had promised to effect this through magic and to this end had performed a distasteful ritual in Cessac’s presence. He had sent Cessac’s servant to dig up a bone from a nearby cemetery and then uttered incantations while the servant sewed the relic into the sleeve of a shirt. Cessac had promised Lesage that he would pay him 1000 pistoles upon the death of his brother but since Clermont had remained in good health, Lesage had received no more than twenty écus.
Contrary to la Voisin’s assertion, Lesage declared that the Comtesse du Roure had never been one of his customers, but he did not deny that, before going to the galleys, he had had extensive dealings with the Vicomtesse de Polignac. He recollected that when she had first come to him her demands had been quite modest, for she had merely wanted to be assured of the continuing affection of her current admirers, the Comte du Lude, the Vicomte de Larbouste and M. Doradour. In due course, however, she had grown more ambitious. Having learned that la Voisin had offered to procure the King’s affection for the Comtesse du Roure, Mme de Polignac had asked Lesage to do the same for her and she had also wanted him to arrange for the permanent removal of Louise de La Vallière. For good measure she had requested Lesage to make her husband die, as she desired her freedom.
In order to achieve this Lesage had conducted various ceremonies with Mariette, the priest who at that time was his partner. First there had been a recitation of magic formulas from an ancient book of spells; then, at d
ead of night, Mme de Polignac had gone by coach with Mariette and Lesage to the Bois de Boulogne, so that two pigeons’ hearts could be buried. The culminating desecration had come when Lesage had accompanied Mme de Polignac to Saint-Germain, so they could observe the King attend chapel. As mass was performed, Mme de Polignac had murmured incantations specially formulated by Lesage, designed to fill the King with slavish adoration for her.
Lesage contended that in doing all this he had performed a valuable service for, by preoccupying Mme de Polignac with these infantile distractions, he had prevented her from doing things that were truly wicked. He congratulated himself on having persuaded her ‘to quit la Voisin and her wicked poisoning ways’, for by this means he had ensured that no harm had come to Louise de La Vallière. It was understandable, however, that when Lesage’s statement was relayed to the King, he took a less sanguine view of the matter.
* * *
Lesage’s admissions had caused terrible consternation, but Mme Voisin’s capacity to shock was still equal to his. In a fit of vindictiveness she now sought to damage France’s leading writer who, many years before, had incurred her displeasure. On 21 November she made a solemn declaration to the effect that in December 1668 the playwright Jean Racine had poisoned an actress named Thérèse Du Parc, who at that time was his mistress.
In 1653 the twenty-year-old Thérèse Du Parc had come to Paris with Molière’s troupe of actors, after being spotted performing acrobatics in the market square at Lyon. Later that year she had married a comedian in the company with the stage name of Gros René, but she had attracted many other admirers, including the ageing playwright Corneille, whose advances she had rejected. In 1664 she had danced before the King in a skirt split to the thigh, and the sight of her wonderful legs encased in silk stockings had excited much admiring comment. Following the death of her husband in 1667, she had joined Racine’s theatre company at the Hotel de Bourgogne. Despite the fact that some people considered her an indifferent actress she had become the company’s leading lady, appearing in the title role for the first performance of Andromaque. At some point she had also become Racine’s mistress, though he was not the only man to enjoy her favours. In the summer of 1668 there were even unfounded rumours that her aristocratic lover, the Chevalier de Rohan, was contemplating marriage with her. Despite this, when she had died on 11 December 1668, Racine had appeared prostrate with grief, presenting a heart-rending spectacle as he walked behind her coffin.
The Affair of the Poisons: Murder, Infanticide, and Satanism at the Court of Louis XIV Page 28