“In a letter written under the name of M. de la Visclède, to the permanent secretary of the Academy of Pau, in 1776, Voltaire,” says M. Marty-Laveaux, “quotes these verses, and adds: ‘He (La Fontaine) altered the word Cabale when he had been made to realize that the great Colbert was serving the King with great equity, and was not addicted to cabals. But La Fontaine had heard some one make use of the term, and had fully believed that it was the proper word to use.’”
Vous Pavez vu naguère au bord de vos fontaines,
Qui sans craindre du sort les faveurs incertaines,
Plein d’éclat, plein de gloire, adoré des mortels,
Recevait des honneurs qu’on ne doit qu’aux autels.
Hélas! qu’il est déchu de ce bonheur suprême!
Que vous le trouverez différent de lui-même!
Pour lui les plus beaux jours sont de secondes nuits,
Les soucis dévorans, les regrets, les ennuis,
Hôtes infortunés de sa triste demeure,
En des gouffres de maux le plongent à toute heure
Voilà le précipice où l’ont enfin jeté
Les attraits enchanteurs de la prospérité!
Dans les palais des Rois cette plainte est commune;
On n’y connaît que trop les jeux de la fortune,
Ses trompeuses faveurs, ses appas inconstants:
Mais on ne les connaît que quand il n’est plus temps,
Lorsque sur cette mer on vogue à pleines voiles,
Qu’on croit avoir pour soi les vents et les étoiles.
Il est bien malaisé de régler ses désirs;
Le plus sage s’endort sur la foi des zéphirs.
Jamais un favori ne borne sa carrière,
Il ne regarde point ce qu’il laisse en arrière;
Et tout ce vain amour des grandeurs et du bruit
Ne le saurait quitter qu’après l’avoir détruit.
Tant d’exemples fameux que l’histoire en raconte
Ne suffisaient-ils pas sans la perte d’Oronte?
Ah! si ce faux éclat n’eût point fait ses plaisirs,
Si le séjour de Vaux eût borné ses désirs
Qu’il pouvait doucement laisser couler son âge!
Vous n’avez pas chez vous ce brillant équipage,
Cette foule de gens qui s’en vont chaque jour
Saluer à longs flots le soleil de la cour:
Mais la faveur du ciel vous donne en récompense
Du repos, du loisir, de l’ombre et du silence,
Un tranquille sommeil, d’innocents entretiens,
Et jamais à la cour on ne trouve ces biens.
Mais quittons ces pensers, Oronte nous appelle.
Vous, dont il a rendu la demeure si belle,
Nymphes, qui lui devez vos plus charmants appas,
Si le long de vos bords Louis porte ses pas,
Tâchez de l’adoucir, fléchissez son courage;
Il aime ses sujets, il est juste, il est sage;
Du titre de clément, rendez-le ambitieux;
C’est par là que les Rois sont semblables aux dieux.
Du magnanisme Henri qu’il contemple la vie;
Dès qu’il put se venger, il en perdit l’envie.
Inspirez à Louis cette même douceur:
La plus belle victoire est de vaincre son coeur.
Oronte est à présent un objet de clémence;
S’il a cru les conseils d’une aveugle puissance,
Il est assez puni par son sort rigoureux,
Et c’est être innocent que d’être malheureux!
La Fontaine, not satisfied with this poem, addressed an ode to the King on Foucquet’s behalf. But the ode is far from equalling the elegy.
... Oronte seul, ta creature,
Languit dans un profond ennui,
Et les bienfaits de la nature
Ne se répandent plus sur lui.
Tu peux d’un éclat de ta foudre
Achever de le mettre en poudre;
Mais si les dieux à ton pouvoir
Aucunes bornes n’ont prescrites,
Moins ta grandeur a de limites,
Plus ton courroux en doit avoir.
Va-t-en punir l’orgueil du Tibre;
Qu’il se souvienne que ses lois
N’ont jadis rien laissé de libre
Que le courage des Gaulois.
Mais parmi nous sois débonnaire:
A cet empire si sévère
Tu ne te peux accoutumer;
Et ce serait trop te contraindre:
Il se hait de tant vivre après un tel malheur, Et, s’il espère encor, ce n’est qu’en sa douleur, C’est là le seul plaisir qui flatte son courage, Car des autres plaisirs on lui défend l’usage. Voilà, voilà l’effet de cette ambition Qui fait de ses pareils l’unique passion.
Les étrangers te doivent craindre,
Yes sujets te veulent aimer.
These verses refer to the attack made by the Corsicans on the Guard of Alexander VII, who, on the 20th August, 1667, fired on the coach of the Duc de Créqui, the French Ambassador.
L’amour est fils de la clémence,
La clémence est fille des dieux;
Sans elle toute leur puissance
Ne serait qu’un titre odieux.
Parmi les fruits de la victoire,
César environné de gloire
N’en trouva point dont la douceur
A celui-ci pût être égale,
Non pas même aux champs où
Pharsale L’honora du nom de vainqueur.
Laisse-lui donc pour toute grâce
Un bien qui ne lui peut durer,
Après avoir perdu la place
Que ton cœur lui fit espérer.
Accorde-nous les faibles restes
De ses jours tristes et funestes,
Jours qui se passent en soupirs:
Ainsi les tiens filés de soie
Puissent se voir comblés de joie,
Même au delà de tes désirs.
La Fontaine submitted this ode to Foucquet, who sent it back to him with various suggestions. The prisoner requested that the reference to Rome should be suppressed. Doubtless he did not understand it, not having heard in prison of the attack upon the French Ambassador at the Papal Court. He also disapproved of the allusion to the clemency of the victor of Pharsalia. “Cæsar’s example,” he said, “being derived from antiquity would not, I think, be well enough known.” He also noted a passage — which I do not know— “as being too poetical to please the King.” The last suggestion speaks of a true nobility of mind. It refers to the last passage, in which the poet implores the King to grant the life of “Oronte.” Foucquet wrote in the margin: “You sue too humbly for a thing that one ought to despise.”
La Fontaine did not willingly give in on any of these points; to the last suggestion he replied as follows: “The sentiment is worthy of you, Monsignor, and, in truth, he who regards life with such indifference does not deserve to die. Perhaps you have not considered that it is I who am speaking, I who ask for a favour which is dearer to us than to you. There are no terms too humble, too pathetic and too urgent to be employed in such circumstances. When I bring you on to the stage, I shall give you words which are suitable to the greatness of your soul. Meanwhile permit me to tell you that you have too little affection for a life such as yours is.”
It was in the month of November only that a Chamber was instituted by Royal Edict with the object of instituting financial reforms, and of punishing those who had been guilty of maladministration. Foucquet was to appear before this Chamber. It met solemnly in the month of December. The greater part of it was composed of Members of the Parliament, but it also included Members of the Chambre des Comptes, the Cour des Aides, the Grand Council and the Masters of Requests. The magistrates who composed it were, to mention those only who sat in it as finally constituted:
The Chancellor Pierre Seguier, first President of the Parliament of Paris, who presided; Guillaume de La
moignon, deputy president; the President de Nesmond; the President de Pontchartrain; Poncet, Master of Requests; Olivier d’Ormesson, Master of Requests; Voysin, Master of Requests; Besnard de Réze, Master of Requests; Regnard, Catinat, De Brillac, Fayet, Councillors in the Grand Chamber of the Paris Parliament; Massenau, Councillor in the Toulouse Parliament; De la Baulme, of the Grenoble Parliament; Du Verdier, of the Bordeaux Parliament; De la Toison, of the Dijon Parliament; Lecormier de Sainte-Hélène, of the Rouen Parliament; Raphélis de Roquesante, of the Aix Parliament; Hérault, of the Rennes Parliament; Noguès, of the Pau Parliament; Ferriol, of the Metz Parliament; De Moussy, of the Paris Chambre des Comptes; Le-Bossu-le-Jau, of the Paris Chambre des Comptes; Le Féron, of the Cour des Aides; De Baussan, of the Cour des Aides; Cuissotte de Gisaucourt, of the Grand Council; Pussort, of the Grand Council.
It must be recognized that the creation of such a Chamber of Justice was in conformity with the rules of the public law as it then existed. Had not Chalais and Marillac, Cinq-Mars and Thou, been judged by commissions of Masters of Requests and Councillors of the Parliament? And, if our sense of legality is wounded when we behold the accusing Monarch himself choosing the judges of the accused man, we must remember this maxim was then firmly established: “All justice emanates from the King.” By this very circumstance the Chamber of Justice of 1661 was invested with very extensive powers; it became the object of public respect, and of the public hopes, for the poor, deeming it powerful, attributed to it the power of helping the wretched populace, after it had punished those who robbed them.
Such illusions are very natural, and one may wonder whether any government would be possible if unhappy persons did not, from day to day, expect something better on the morrow.
Thus the tribunal constituted by the King was no unrighteous tribunal; yet there was no security in it for the accused. He was apparently ruined. Condemned beforehand by the King and by the people, everything seemed to fail him, but he did not fail himself. After having wrought his own ruin, Foucquet worked out his own salvation, if he may be said to have saved himself when all he saved was his life.
His first act was to protest energetically against the competence of the Chamber; he alleged that, having held office in the Parliament for twenty-five years, he was still entitled to the privileges of its officers, and he recognized no judges except those of that body, of both Chambers united. Having made this reservation, he consented to reply to the questions of the examining magistrates, and his replies bore witness to the scope and vigour of a mind which was always collected. The Chamber, on its side, declared itself competent, and decided that the trial should be conducted as though Foucquet were dumb; that is, that there would be no cross-examination, and no pleading. By this method of procedure the Attorney-General put his questions in writing, and the accused replied in writing. As the documents of the prosecution and of the defence were produced, the recorders prepared summaries for the judges.
It is obvious that in such a case the reporters, who are the necessary intermediaries between the magistrates and the parties to the case, possess considerable influence, and that the issue of the lawsuit depends largely on their intelligence and their morality. Consequently, the King wished to reserve to himself the right of appointing them, although according to tradition, this belonged to the President of the Chamber.
Messieurs Olivier d’Ormesson and Le Cormier de Sainte-Hélène were chosen by the Royal Council, and their names were put before the First President, Guillaume de Lamoignon. This magistrate apologized for being unable to accede to the King’s wish, alleging that M. Olivier d’Ormesson and M. de Sainte-Hélène would be suspected by the accused; at least, he feared so. “This fear,” replied the King, “is only another reason for appointing them.”
Lamoignon — and it did him honour — gave way only upon the King’s formal command.
That was quite enough to make Lamoignon suspected by Foucquet’s enemies. Powerful as they were, he did nothing to reassure them; on the contrary, he saw that the accused was granted the assistance of counsel, and that the forms of procedure were scrupulously observed. When one day Colbert was trying to discover his opinions, Lamoignon made this fine reply: “A judge ought never to declare his opinion save once, and that above the fleurs-de-lys.”
The King, growing more and more suspicious, nominated Chancellor Séguier to preside over the Chamber. Lamoignon, thus driven from his seat, withdrew, but unostentatiously, alleging as his reason that Parliamentary affairs occupied the whole of his time.”
In vain the King and Colbert, alarmed at having themselves dismissed so upright a magistrate, endeavoured to restore him to a position of diminished authority; he was deaf to entreaties, and was content to say to his friends: “Lavavi manus meas; quomodo inquinabo eas?” Old Séguier, who though lacking in nobility of soul possessed brilliant intellectual powers, grew more servile than ever. Feeling that he had not long to live, he promptly accepted dishonour. In this trial his conduct was execrable and his talents did not, on this occasion, succeed in masking his partiality. Great jurisconsult though he was, he did not understand finance, and this stupendous trial was altogether too much for an old man of seventy-four. He was always impatiently complaining of the length of the trial, which, he declared, would outlast him.
With audacity and skill Foucquet held his own against this violent judge. Brought up in chicanery, the accused was acquainted with all the mysteries of procedure. He made innumerable difficulties; sometimes he accused a judge, sometimes he challenged the accuracy of an inventory, sometimes he demanded documents necessary for the defence. In short, he gained time, and this was to gain much. The more protracted the trial, the less he had to fear that its termination would be a capital sentence.
The King was not at all comfortable as to its issue; his activity was unwearying, and he never hesitated to throw his whole weight into the balance. The public prosecutor, Talon, was not an able person; he allowed himself to be defeated by the accused, and was immediately sacrificed. He was replaced by two Masters of Requests, Hotmann and Chamillart. One of the recorders caused the Court a great deal of anxiety; this was the worthy Olivier d’Ormesson. Efforts were made to intimidate him, but in vain; to win him over, but equally in vain. He was punished. His offices of Intendant of Picardy and Soissonnais were taken away from him. Finally, the idea was conceived of enlisting his father, and of trying to induce the old man to corrupt the honesty of his son. Old André would not lend himself to these attempts at corruption; he replied that he was sorry that the King was not satisfied with his son’s behaviour. “My son,” he added, “does what I have always recommended him to do: he fears God, serves the King, and he renders justice without distinction of person.”
The Court and the Minister were, indeed, exceeding all bounds; Séguier, Pussort, Sainte-Hélène and others displayed the most odious partiality. False inventories were drawn up; the official reports of the proceedings were falsified. The King carried off the Court of Justice with him to Fontainebleau, fearing lest it should become independent in his absence. This was going too far; Foucquet grew interesting.
Public opinion, at first hostile to the accused, had almost completely turned in his favour, when, more than three years after his arrest, on the 14thOctober, 1664, the Attorney-General, Chamillart, pronounced his conclusions, which were to the effect that Foucquet, “attainted and convicted of the crime of high treason, and other charges mentioned during the trial,” should be “hanged and strangled until death should follow, on a gallows erected on the Place de la Rue Sainte-Antoine, near the Bastille.”
The trial was generally regarded as being overweighted. Turenne said, in his picturesque manner, that the cord had been made too thick to strangle M. Foucquet. The financiers, always influential, having recovered from their first alarm, tried to save a man who, in his fall, might drag them down with him. For, in so comprehensive an accusation, who was there that was not compromised?
Colbert was now detested; as a result
his enemy appeared less black. As for the Chamber itself, it was divided into two parts, almost of equal strength. On the one hand there were those who, like Séguier and Pussort, wished to please the Court by ruining Foucquet, and on the other those who, like Olivier d’Ormesson, favoured the strict administration of justice, exempt from anger and hatred.
It was on the 14th November, 1664, that Nicolas Foucquet appeared for the first time before the Chamber, which sat in the Arsenal. He wore a citizen’s costume, a suit of black cloth, with a mantle. He excused himself for appearing before the Court without his magistrate’s robe, declaring that he had asked for one in vain. He renewed the protest which he had made previously against the competency of the Chamber, and refused to take the oath. He then took his place on the prisoners’ bench and declared himself ready to reply to the questions which might be put to him.
The accusations made against him may be classified under four heads: payment collected from the tax-farmers; farmerships which he had granted under fictitious names; advances made to the Treasury; and the crime of high treason, projected but not executed, proved by the papers discovered at Saint-Mandé.
Foucquet’s defenie, which disdained petty expedients, was powerful and adroit. He confessed irregularities, but he held that the disorders of the administration in a time of public disturbance were responsible for them. According to him, the payments levied on the tax-farmers were merely the repayment of his advances, and that the imposts which he had appropriated were the same. As for the loans which he had made to the State, they were an absolute necessity. To the insidious and insulting questions of the Chancellor he replied with the greatest adroitness. He was as bold as he was prudent. Only once he lost patience, and replied with an arrogance likely to do him harm. He certainly interested society. Ladies, in order to watch him as he was being reconducted to the Bastille, used to repair, masked, to a house which looked on to the Arsenal. Madame de Sévigné was there. “When I saw him,” she said, “my legs trembled, and my heart beat so loud that I thought I should faint. As he approached us to return to his gaol, M. d’Artagnan nudged him, and called his attention to the fact that we were there. He thereupon saluted us, and assumed that laughing expression which you know so well. I do not think he recognized me, but I confess to you that I felt strangely moved when I saw him enter that little door. If you knew how unhappy one is when one has a heart fashioned as mine is fashioned, I am sure you would take pity on me.”
Complete Works of Anatole France Page 353