Diary of Louise de la Valliere
Mistress to King Louis XIV
February 17, 1662 anno domini
Today the court, myself included, arrived at Monsieur Fouquet's estate at Vaux. Although dinner and lodgings were splendid, I received from Louis rather the impression of displeasure. At the time, I thought the pheasant disagreed with him. Later, however, we took a moonlight stroll through the rose garden, and I discovered the reason for His Highness' discontent. Amazing as it may seem, Louis was embarrassed by M. Fouquet's show of wealth. It seems that the crown is rather low on funds, and in fact now is down to the meager sum of 13 million pistoles. It doesn't matter that much, Louis can always raise taxes.
The ball last week at La Feré was really quite marvelous. Raoul de Bragelonne was there, of course. No matter how I try to avoid them, thoughts of him always seem to find their ways into my mind. Perhaps they will end next season, when he goes to Africa to fight the Saracens. Who am I fooling? No matter what Louis and I have, my heart will always be with Raoul wherever he goes.
June 15, 1662
Events were well today. Le Captaine d'Artagnan stopped by the court at Nantes on his way home from Spain. Can you imagine? The ladies of the court tell me of strange things in Spain; some so ridiculous I cannot even begin to describe them. For example, they speak of a fruit called an orange, which in itself is preposterous. Why name a fruit a color? One might as well call apples "reds" and "yellows," or melons "greens." D'Artagnan, however, confirms this absurd story, saying he has even consumed one of these fruits! I believe that he and the ladies are engaged in a massive hoax, one which I shall soon reveal.
D'Artagnan also brought news of Raoul. He is doing marvelously in Gigelli, at one time fending of three or four Arabs at one time and coming out nearly unscathed. I still feel, however, that his going to the wars was my doing. Athenaïs, her voice filled with venom, hinted at such this afternoon. Luckily, D'Artagnan protected my honor by escorting me to my chambers where I could collapse in peace. No matter what they say about me, I do hope de Bragelonne survives the wars.
July 25, 1662
I awoke sweating last night. I had the most horrid dreams. No matter how I tried, I couldn't fall asleep again until it was nigh dawn. Today a courier came, confirming my inner fear. Two weeks ago, Raoul died by the hands of a heathen Saracen. I am desolate. Louis cannot see why, saying that we have each other and that is enough. It is not enough. He is married to Maria Theresa of Spain, and even if he were not, we could never be wed. He is King Louis XIV, and I am only Louise de la Valliere. Although I suppose I should be satisfied with my lot in life, there is something inside me that needs fulfillment.
August 21, 1662
Raoul's funeral was today. The king forbade me to be present among the mourners. However, after the eulogy was completed my handmaidens and I stole away to visit the gravesite. After praying intensely for forgiveness, I was shocked to see D'Artagnan standing in the shade of a large cypress tree. Coldly, he rebuked me, saying, "The place of the murderess is not upon the grave of her victim." How could he say such things to me! He must know how wretched I felt after hearing the news. Perhaps he has been listening to Athenaïs ramble. A few hours with her would be enough to drive any man out of his right mind and make outlandish accusations. Just at that moment, M. de Saint-Aignan drove up in a carriage, demanding in the king's name that I return to the palace. Wisely, D'Artagnan had slipped away before
St.-Aignan could discover him. I fear for what Louis has in store for me when I return.
November 21, 1666
D'Artagnan came by to visit me today. For an hour or two it felt just like the good old times. We talked (of course) of Porthos' untimely death and Athos' timely one; Aramis' appointment as Ambassador to Spain after the Belle-Isle-en-Mer fiasco and the disgrace of M. Fouquet. Louis so rarely has time to speak to me these days, what with Mlle. Tonnay-Charete on hand. Did you know she is about to become Madame de Montespan in two months? I can scarcely believe Gilbert de Montespan still wishes to wed her after the way she and Louis are carrying on. One would think she is not spoken for, the way she acts. Winter is coming, and so it is within me as well. Maurice de Colbert has proposed marriage to me, and I do not know whether to accept (for le Mme. de Colbert would be well provided for) or decline, believing as I do that I still catch Louis' eye? I shall ask D'Artagnan tomorrow, if he stops by to see me. I don't want to go through the trouble of seeking him out, but he always knows the right thing to do. I only wish Louis would listen to him more.
Mistress to King Louis XIV
February 17, 1662 anno domini
Today the court, myself included, arrived at Monsieur Fouquet's estate at Vaux. Although dinner and lodgings were splendid, I received from Louis rather the impression of displeasure. At the time, I thought the pheasant disagreed with him. Later, however, we took a moonlight stroll through the rose garden, and I discovered the reason for His Highness' discontent. Amazing as it may seem, Louis was embarrassed by M. Fouquet's show of wealth. It seems that the crown is rather low on funds, and in fact now is down to the meager sum of 13 million pistoles. It doesn't matter that much, Louis can always raise taxes.
The ball last week at La Feré was really quite marvelous. Raoul de Bragelonne was there, of course. No matter how I try to avoid them, thoughts of him always seem to find their ways into my mind. Perhaps they will end next season, when he goes to Africa to fight the Saracens. Who am I fooling? No matter what Louis and I have, my heart will always be with Raoul wherever he goes.
June 15, 1662
Events were well today. Le Captaine d'Artagnan stopped by the court at Nantes on his way home from Spain. Can you imagine? The ladies of the court tell me of strange things in Spain; some so ridiculous I cannot even begin to describe them. For example, they speak of a fruit called an orange, which in itself is preposterous. Why name a fruit a color? One might as well call apples "reds" and "yellows," or melons "greens." D'Artagnan, however, confirms this absurd story, saying he has even consumed one of these fruits! I believe that he and the ladies are engaged in a massive hoax, one which I shall soon reveal.
D'Artagnan also brought news of Raoul. He is doing marvelously in Gigelli, at one time fending of three or four Arabs at one time and coming out nearly unscathed. I still feel, however, that his going to the wars was my doing. Athenaïs, her voice filled with venom, hinted at such this afternoon. Luckily, D'Artagnan protected my honor by escorting me to my chambers where I could collapse in peace. No matter what they say about me, I do hope de Bragelonne survives the wars.
July 25, 1662
I awoke sweating last night. I had the most horrid dreams. No matter how I tried, I couldn't fall asleep again until it was nigh dawn. Today a courier came, confirming my inner fear. Two weeks ago, Raoul died by the hands of a heathen Saracen. I am desolate. Louis cannot see why, saying that we have each other and that is enough. It is not enough. He is married to Maria Theresa of Spain, and even if he were not, we could never be wed. He is King Louis XIV, and I am only Louise de la Valliere. Although I suppose I should be satisfied with my lot in life, there is something inside me that needs fulfillment.
August 21, 1662
Raoul's funeral was today. The king forbade me to be present among the mourners. However, after the eulogy was completed my handmaidens and I stole away to visit the gravesite. After praying intensely for forgiveness, I was shocked to see D'Artagnan standing in the shade of a large cypress tree. Coldly, he rebuked me, saying, "The place of the murderess is not upon the grave of her victim." How could he say such things to me! He must know how wretched I felt after hearing the news. Perhaps he has been listening to Athenaïs ramble. A few hours with her would be enough to drive any man out of his right mind and make outlandish accusations. Just at that moment, M. de Saint-Aignan drove up in a carriage, demanding in the king's name that I return to the palace. Wisely, D'Artagnan had slipped away before
St.-Aignan could discover him. I fear for what Louis has in store for me when I return.
November 21, 1666
D'Artagnan came by to visit me today. For an hour or two it felt just like the good old times. We talked (of course) of Porthos' untimely death and Athos' timely one; Aramis' appointment as Ambassador to Spain after the Belle-Isle-en-Mer fiasco and the disgrace of M. Fouquet. Louis so rarely has time to speak to me these days, what with Mlle. Tonnay-Charete on hand. Did you know she is about to become Madame de Montespan in two months? I can scarcely believe Gilbert de Montespan still wishes to wed her after the way she and Louis are carrying on. One would think she is not spoken for, the way she acts. Winter is coming, and so it is within me as well. Maurice de Colbert has proposed marriage to me, and I do not know whether to accept (for le Mme. de Colbert would be well provided for) or decline, believing as I do that I still catch Louis' eye? I shall ask D'Artagnan tomorrow, if he stops by to see me. I don't want to go through the trouble of seeking him out, but he always knows the right thing to do. I only wish Louis would listen to him more.