[The Marquis d’Ancenis, Captain of the Guards, who came early in the morning to arrest the Princess, had supped with her on the preceding evening, when he entered, the.  Duchess cried out to him, “Mon Dieu! what have I done to you, that you should wake me so early?” The chief domestics of the household were taken to the Bastille or to Vincennes; the Prince of Dombes and the Comte d’Eu were carried to Eu.]

She is now said to be quite calm, and, it is added, she plays at cards all day long.  When the play is over, she grows angry again, and falls upon her husband, his children, or her servants, who do not know how to appease her.  She is dreadfully violent, and, it is said, has often beaten her husband.

All the time of her residence at Dijon she was playing the Orlando Furioso:  sometimes she was not treated with the respect due to her rank; sometimes she complains of other things; she will not understand that she is a prisoner, and that she has deserved even a worse fate.  She had flattered herself that when she should reach Chalons-sur-Saone she would enjoy more liberty, and have the whole city for her prison; but when she learnt that she was to be locked up in the citadel, as at Dijon, she would not set out.  Far from repenting her treason, she fancies she has done something very praiseworthy.

Melancholy as I am, my son has made me laugh by telling me what has been found in Madame du Maine’s letters, seized at the Cardinal de Polignac’s.  In one of her letters, this very discreet and virtuous personage writes, “We are going into the country tomorrow; and I shall so arrange the apartments that your chamber shall be next to mine.  Try to manage matters as well as you did the last time, and we shall be very happy.”

The Princess knows very well that her daughter has had an intrigue with the Cardinal, and has endeavoured to break it off.  For this purpose she has convinced her by the Cardinal’s own letters that he is unfaithful to her, and prefers a certain Montauban to her.  This, however, has had no effect.  The Duc du Maine has been informed of everything, and he writes to her sister, “I ought not to be put into prison, but into petticoats, for having suffered myself to be so led by the nose.”

He has resolved never to see his wife again, although he does not yet know of the Duchess’s letter to the Cardinal, nor of the other measures she has taken for the purpose of decorating her husband’s brows.

Madame du Maine will eventually become really crazy, for she is dreadfully troubled with the vapours.  Her mother has entreated my son to let her daughter be brought to her house at Anet, where she will be answerable for her conduct and suffer her to speak with no one.

My son replied, “that if Madame du Maine had only conspired against his life, he would have pardoned her with all his heart; but that, as her offence had been committed against the State, he was obliged, in spite of himself, to keep her in prison.”