I do not know whether it is true that Louvois was poisoned by that old Maintenon, but it is quite certain that he was poisoned, as well as his physician who committed the crime, and who said when he was dying, “I die by poison, but I deserve it, for having poisoned my master, M. de Louvois; and I did this in the hope of becoming the King’s physician, as Madame de Maintenon had promised me.”  I ought to add that some persons pretend to think this story of Doctor Seron is a mere invention.  Old Piety (Maintenon) did not commit this crime without an object; but if she really did poison Louvois, it was because he had opposed her designs and endeavoured to undeceive the King.  Louvois, the better to gain his object, had advised the King not to take her with him to the army.  The King was weak enough to repeat this to her, and this it was that excited her against Louvois.  That the latter was a very bad man, who feared neither heaven nor hell, no man can deny; but it must be confessed that he served his King faithfully.

The Duke de Noailles’ grandfather was one of the ugliest men in the world.  He had one glass eye, and his nose was like an owl’s, his mouth large, his teeth ugly and decayed, his face and head very small, his body long and bent, and he was bitter and ill-tempered.  His name was Gluinel.  Madame de Cornuel one day was reading his grandson’s genealogy, and, when she came to his name, exclaimed, “I always suspected, when I saw the Duc de Noailles, that he came out of the Book of the Lamentations of Jeremiah!”

When James ii. took refuge in France from England, Madame de Cornuel went to Saint-Germain to see him.  Some time afterwards, she was told of the pains our King was taking to procure his restoration to the throne.  Madame de Cornuel shook her head, and said, “I have seen this King James; our monarch’s efforts are all in vain; he is good for nothing but to make poor man’s sauce. (La sauce au pauvre homme.)”

She went to Versailles to see the Court when M. de Torcy and M. de Seignelay, both very young, had just been appointed Ministers.  She saw them, as well as Madame de Maintenon, who had then grown old.  When she returned to Paris, some one asked her what remarkable things she had seen.  “I have seen,” she said, “what I never expected to see there; I have seen love in its tomb and the Ministry in its cradle.”

The elder Margrave of Anspach was smitten with Mademoiselle d’Armagnac, but he would not marry her, and said afterwards that he had never intended to do so, because the familiarities which had passed between her and the Marquis de Villequier (1716) had disgusted him.  The lady’s mother would have liked nothing better than to surprise the Margrave with her daughter in some critical situation:  for this purpose he had sufficient opportunities given him, but he was prudent, and conducted himself with so much modesty, that he avoided the snare.  To tell the truth, I had given him a hint on the subject, for I was too well acquainted with the mother, who is a very bad woman.