Baroque Explorations: Jean Lemoine

Baroque Explorations

Notes on the Writing Life
Showing posts with label Jean Lemoine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jean Lemoine. Show all posts

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Athénaïs: innocent or guilty?

Yesterday I received a book ordered from France: Madame de Montespan et la Légende des Poisons by Jean Lemoine, a French historian I admire greatly. I inhaled this book, eager to know his thesis — his verdict regarding the guilt or innocence of Athénaïs with respect to dealings in Black Magic, Spanish Fly, infanticide. The plot of The Next Novel hinges on this crucial question: was she guilty?

Lemoine's thesis, at quick glance, seems to be that Athénaïs and a number of others accused by the prisoners of heinous crimes, were personally "encouraged" to embellish their testimonies by the Minister of War, Louvois, who was, in effect, carrying out a private vendetta against his arch-rival, Colbert.

Louvois shows up as a demon with respect to the horrific punishment inflicted on Lauzun. The earliest known record regarding the Man in the Iron Mask is a letter written by Louvois (July 1, 1669). He is also blamed, by some, for the dragonnades, the atrocities suffered by the Huguenots.

Lemoine indicates that part of what fueled Louvois's vendettas was rejection by the aristocracy. Here's a quote from the Net:
For all his ability and power, Louvois was never accepted as the social equal of the commanders who carried out his orders. The great Turenne dismissed Louvois as little better than a valet or clerk. But Louvois was by nature thick-skinned and bull-headed, characteristics he needed to make himself obeyed, although they hardly endeared him to the court.
According to Somerset's book on the Affair of the Poisons, Primi Visconti believed that Louvois's efforts to compile evidence against Olympe was fueled by her mocking him when he fell off his horse out hunting, and her contempt at the suggestion that his daughter marry one of her sons.

According to Hilaire Belloc in her book Louis XIV, Louvois was almost insanely violent, a relentless persecutor who was indifferent to people's suffering. (He was, on the balance, passionate in his devotion to the King. They were close in age, and had known each other since childhood.)

I'm a writer of historical fiction, and I smell a rat, here — a true villian.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Claude des Oeillets: guilty or not?

I have been doing so much research, of late, that I don't post here, because there is too much to say. And so I will start, slowly.

With my last post, on reading Strange Revelations, I was convinced that the heroine of the novel I am working on now, Claude des Oeillets, was guilty of dealing with the witch Madame Voisin (on behalf of her employer, Athénaïs, Madame de Montespan). The testimonies against Claude, recorded in the Bastille Archives, are overwhelming in number and detail. How could so many people be wrong?

Now, having read and reread Jean Lemoine's Les Des Oeillets; une grande comédienne, une maitresse de Louis XIV, I'm not so sure.

Jean Lemoine is one of those wonderfully careful historians that documents every claim. The book is, in fact, made up of documents: leases on houses, money loaned, money paid, last wills and testaments. The stuff of history.

What's telling, to me, is that Madame Voisin insisted, under terrible torture, right up to the day of her execution, that she'd not had any dealings with Athénaïs or Claude, Athénaïs's maid. She had squealed on many, many others at court, most of them high-and-mighty (Athénaïs's sister-in-law was one). There was nothing to be gained in not mentioning Athénaïs or Claude. What would be her motivation? Possibly: to tell the truth?

The accusations poured in from other prisoners after Voisin's execution. What I've learned from Lemoine's work is that Claude was called in by Louvois, the Minister of War, and, horrified by what was being said, insisted on being shown to her accusers. She swore on her life that they would not know her. The "test" was unfortunately mishandled (as noted later by minister Colbert): Claude wasn't shown to the prisoners with other people. The prisoners had been grilled shortly before about Claude. It was easy enough for them to guess who she was.

She insisted on another meeting with Louvois, pleading her case. This was followed up with a letter, in which she offered possible explanations. Louvois, who would have been happy to find any evidence compromising Athénaïs, was ultimately convinced of her innocence ... as was the King and Colbert.

And so: the jury is out. I'm not yet sure. The reason why Claude's guilt or innocence is critical is because it directly implicates Athénaïs — the Shadow Queen of France at that time. I've ordered Jean Lemoine's book on Athénaïs and the Affair of the Poisons. Until then, I remain puzzled, unconvinced either way.
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