



Produced by David Widger





          MEMOIRS OF LOUIS XIV AND HIS COURT AND OF THE REGENCY

                        BY THE DUKE OF SAINT-SIMON




VOLUME 7.




CHAPTER XLVII

The death of D'Avaux, who had formerly been our ambassador in Holland,
occurred in the early part of this year (1709).  D'Avaux was one of the
first to hear of the project of William of Orange upon England, when that
project was still only in embryo, and kept profoundly secret.  He
apprised the King (Louis XIV.) of it, but was laughed at.  Barillon, then
our ambassador in England, was listened to in preference.  He, deceived
by Sunderland and the other perfidious ministers of James II.; assured
our Court that D'Avaux's reports were mere chimeras.  It was not until it
was impossible any longer to doubt that credit was given to them.  The
steps that we then took, instead of disconcerting all the measures of the
conspirators, as we could have done, did not interfere with the working
out of any one of their plans.  All liberty was left, in fact, to William
to carry out his scheme.  The anecdote which explains how this happened
is so curious, that it deserves to be mentioned here.

Louvois, who was then Minister of War, was also superintendent of the
buildings.  The King, who liked building, and who had cast off all his
mistresses, had pulled down the little porcelain Trianon he had made for
Madame de Montespan, and was rebuilding it in the form it still retains.
One day he perceived, for his glance was most searching, that one window
was a trifle narrower than the others.  He showed it to Louvois, in order
that it might be altered, which, as it was not then finished, was easy to
do.  Louvois sustained that the window was all right.  The King insisted
then, and on the morrow also, but Louvois, pigheaded and inflated with
his authority, would not yield.

The next day the King saw Le Notre in the gallery.  Although his trade
was gardens rather than houses, the King did not fail to consult him upon
the latter.  He asked him if he had been to Trianon.  Le Notre replied
that he had not.  The King ordered him to go.  On the morrow he saw Le
Notre again; same question, same answer.  The King comprehended the
reason of this, and a little annoyed, commanded him to be there that
afternoon at a given time.  Le Notre did not dare to disobey this time.
The King arrived, and Louvois being present, they returned to the subject
of the window, which Louvois obstinately said was as broad as the rest.
The King wished Le Notre to measure it, for he knew that, upright and
true, he would openly say what he found.  Louvois, piqued, grew angry.
The King, who was not less so, allowed him to say his say.  Le Notre,
meanwhile, did not stir.  At last, the King made him go, Louvois still
grumbling, and maintaining his assertion with audacity and little
measure.  Le Notre measured the window, and said that the King was right
by several inches.  Louvois still wished to argue, but the King silenced
him, and commanded him to see that the window was altered at once,
contrary to custom abusing him most harshly.

What annoyed Louvois most was, that this scene passed not only before all
the officers of the buildings, but in presence of all who followed the
King in his promenades, nobles, courtiers, officers of the guard, and
others, even all the rolete.  The dressing given to Louvois was smart and
long, mixed with reflections upon the fault of this window, which, not
noticed so soon, might have spoiled all the facade, and compelled it to
be re-built.

Louvois, who was not accustomed to be thus treated, returned home in
fury, and like a man in despair.  His familiars were frightened, and in
their disquietude angled to learn what had happened.  At last he told
them, said he was lost, and that for a few inches the King forgot all his
services, which had led to so many conquests; he declared that henceforth
he would leave the trowel to the King, bring about a war, and so arrange
matters that the King should have good need of him!

He soon kept his word.  He caused a war to grow out of the affair of the
double election of Cologne, of the Prince of Bavaria, and of the Cardinal
of Furstenberg; he confirmed it in carrying the flames into the
Palatinate, and in leaving, as I have said, all liberty to the project
upon England; he put the finishing touch to his work by forcing the Duke
of Savoy into the arms of his enemies, and making him become, by the
position of his country, our enemy, the most